Vanish (Firelight #2)(34)

“No,” he refutes again with infuriating confidence. “He was your escape. When you stop running, you’ll see it’s me you belong with. I might have doubted it before, but then you kissed me in the tower—”

“That,” I say sharply, “was a mistake. A serious lapse in judgment.”

“Maybe Will’s the mistake.”

I pull back at that.

“Let’s pretend for one moment that you could get your precious Will. That you give up your pride, your family, your life to be with him. You don’t think one day you would wake up and look at him and realize he’s just some hunter with blood on his hands? A hunter with stolen blood in his veins?”

I shake my head. “No! I don’t want to hear this—”

“Because it’s true. You think you can live with that? When the fantasy wears off, when the first thrilling rush of being with him fades . . . you’ll remember just why it is he’s wrong for you.”

“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this. I’m never going to see him again,” I say, my voice shaking at the lie.

He stares at me so intently I fear he detects my deceit. “I just don’t want any misunderstanding between us anymore,” he says firmly.

“I understand the situation perfectly. You and I aren’t going to happen.” I motion toward the door. “You really should go after Tamra. She’s upset.”

“And I’m sorry for that.” He inhales, his broad chest lifting high. “But I’m not sorry about us.”

“There is no us,” I hiss, clenching my hands into fists.

He moves for the door, his stride easy and relaxed. “I can be patient. We have time.” Then he’s gone, the door gaping open after him.

Time is the last thing I have here. Soon, I’ll meet

with Will. And I’ll leave with him. I reach this decision with blinding-bright clarity. Any lingering doubt I have about that is completely gone.

After my shift the following day, I head for Az’s house on the opposite end of the township. I have to see her. I have to make things right before I leave. As much as I can, anyway.

She opens the door for me. With an arched eyebrow, she stares for a long moment before motioning me inside with an elegant flick of her hand.

She soundlessly marches up the stairs to her room, her long blue-streaked hair swishing fluidly down her back. At the bottom of the stairs, I get sidetracked when her mom spots me as she comes out of the kitchen.

“Jacinda!” Sobha pulls me into a hug. I don’t hug her back right away, too surprised. I’d forgotten how nice it felt to have another pride member show me such warmth. “It’s about time you came around. I remember when you were here practically every other night.”

I remember those days, too. After I manifested and Tamra failed to do so, my friendship with Az grew even more. We were inseparable.

“Mom,” Az calls down.

“Oh, I won’t keep you.” She pats me fondly on the shoulder. “Go on up.”

Az’s room is everything I remember. Bright pinks and blues, posters of the ocean. I approach one shot of Carmel beach. As girls we would talk about taking our tours together and going there. Back when I thought the pride would allow me to go. Now I realize that was always unlikely. They valued me too greatly to ever risk losing me, and everyone knew that draki sometimes never returned from their tours.

Still, we dreamed, believing when we were eighteen it would be our time. Our turn. Like so many draki before us, we would venture out and live for a year among humans, learning the ways of the outside world before returning to the pride.

Smiling, I brush a palm against the glossy-cool paper. The beach set against the verdant hillside looks like something out of an Italian travel brochure. Maybe Az would still get to swim beneath those cerulean blue waters in full manifest. Only without me.

I drop down on her bed, plucking a fuzzy heart-shaped pillow from the mound at the top of the bed. I hug it to my chest. “I’ve missed this room.”

She stands at her window, her pose stiff, her thin arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah,” she says crossly. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“I miss you,” I add, determined to get to the point. I don’t have time for much else.

“You have a funny way of showing it. You went off and—”

“I didn’t choose to leave here,” I insert, but she ignores me and keeps talking.

“And fell for some human. You manifested in front of him.” She presses a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe you would put us all in danger like that. The Jacinda I know would never—”

“The Jacinda you know couldn’t stand by and watch him die.” My fingers ache where they clutch the pillow. “Not when I could do something about it. He fell off a cliff, Az. There wasn’t time to think. I just acted.” I stare hard at her, pleading, willing for her to understand.

She studies me for a long moment before asking, “Would you have stayed there? If Cassian hadn’t come for you?” Her voice is no longer angry now, just hurt, and I want to lie. I want to spare her from any pain, but I’ve lied enough lately.

“Yes. I think I would have.”

After a long moment, she shakes her head. With a loud sigh, she drops down beside me and gives me a playful shove. “I hope he was hot at least.”