Vanish (Firelight #2)(39)

Anxiety rips through me. The choppers can see nothing of the pride from their vantage. Which means they might send in their land units to investigate the area more thoroughly.

The beating drone grows louder, closer.

Miram’s eyes bulge. “Are those helicopters?”

I nod. “Yeah. C’mon. We have to go.” I grab her hand and pull her after me.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from the township.” I run, dragging her behind me.

“They can’t see us through the trees. And the mist,” she complains. “We’re out of sight.”

I keep running, pushing harder, not bothering to tell her that where there are choppers, land units aren’t far behind. I know this, have lived it firsthand.

“Jacinda, talk to me!” Panic edges her voice.

I need her calm. Easy and calm and ready to do whatever I tell her. “It’s okay, Miram,” I say. “Just keep moving.”

“I’ve never been this far from the township . . . Shouldn’t we be going toward home? Not away from it?”

“And lead the hunters straight to the pride?” I shake my head. “No.”

This is all I can explain because right then I hear another sound. The rev of motors. The distant buzz growls its way toward us. My chest burns, fire eating up my windpipe.

“Jacinda!” My name explodes from her lips. She wrenches her arm free and stops, glaring at me, rubbing her wrist. “What’s going on!”

She’s too loud. I grab both her arms and give her a small shake, desperate to make my point. “Look, this isn’t random aircraft.” I pause for breath. “They’re hunters. They’re on the mountain looking for us.”

Her eyes grow enormous in her small face, and I realize just how young she is. Only a year younger than I am, but she seems younger. I feel older.

As I stare at Cassian’s sister, it hits me hard. I can’t let anything happen to her. I have to protect her. I don’t let myself ponder why this is. It’s just something I have to do. I have to save her, brat that she is. I have to keep her safe. For him.

“Listen to me,” I command.

And she does. Impossible as it seems, her eyes grow even bigger—more expressive than I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, it’s terror that I read there.

It’s no surprise what happens next. Her pupils thin to vertical slits, shuddering with fear.

“Stop, Miram,” I hiss, shaking her. “Not now.”

“I can’t,” she spits, her speech garbling, altering behind her teeth.

Her draki eyes roll wild with her fear, looking everywhere, all around her, anywhere but at me. Her skin flashes, a shimmery neutral color, like milk-infused coffee. Not that different from the color of her human flesh except for the iridescent glimmer. And I know it’s too late. She’s lost to her instincts.

“Okay, fine,” I snap, digging my fingers into her arms, and shaking her hard, snapping her gaze back to me. “Look at me, Miram. Can you make yourself invisible?”

Instead of answering me, she releases a keening moan.

“Quiet!” Frustration boils up in me at a dark and dangerous simmer. The familiar heat sears through me.

“I don’t do well under pressure,” she whines.

For a moment I want to inflict bodily harm on her.

I glance around, assessing, listening, judging how close the hunters are. The droning buzz of engines sounds closer. I glance at the trees and grimly announce, “Strip.”

“W-what?” she asks, her voice lost to the guttural rumble of draki-speech.

“Strip. We’ll hide in the trees,” I explain, my English starting to fade out, turning into a thick, garbled sound as my vocal cords alter.

I release her and tear off my clothes. My heart feels like lead in my chest, an aching weight. Here I am. Again. Running from hunters.

After a stunned moment, Miram clumsily strips; her wings, clear as glass with latticing cords the color of bone, spring free. Her fear has hold over her, and she’s manifesting without thought, without deliberation, her face transforming, angles sharpening, lengthening.

I lift my chin and inhale, draw air into my seizing lungs. My skin fades, draki skin emerging in a burning rush.

I ball my clothes up with Miram’s and stuff them with my backpack deep into a knot hole, hastily tossing leaves and dirt over them with shaking hands. The toxic taste of fear laces my mouth. No reason to fight it anymore.

Flinging my head back, I release a little moan as my wings push out from between my shoulder blades, the twin gossamer sheets snapping on the air. My toes lift off the ground.

How did this happen? I was supposed to see Will—be in his arms right now. How has everything gone so horribly wrong? Where’s Will? Does he know what’s happening? How could he let his family come up the mountain today? Today of all days?

Grabbing Miram’s hand, I take off, get sucked up into wind and air. Feel the long strands of my hair lift up off my shoulders in a fiery storm.

Miram doesn’t resist. She’s already there, acting on instincts that demand flight, escape. I stop her, yank on her hand to keep her from ascending and soaring past the treetops into the choppers’ line of vision.

Our wings smack the air, stirring leaves and making more noise than I like. I shove her into a tree and follow her in, squeezing between the jabbing branches.