Vanish (Firelight #2)(45)

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he says quickly, as if remembering the danger encroaching all around us, “It doesn’t look too bad.” His voice is a low rasp and I know he’s lying. It looks bad.

With a final jerk of his hand, my wings spill free. Again, agony. Red-hot as fresh blood rushes back into the abused appendages. The sensation makes the edges of my vision gray, my head spin. I open my mouth wide on a silent scream.

This pain is worse than the last time I was hit, the first time hunters pursued me. The pain was intense then, but I healed. Mom treated the wound . . . Mom. Has she left her room? Did she even notice I was gone? The notes won’t be waiting for her.

Will’s anxious eyes flit over me, and then to the surrounding press of trees. “We’ve got to go . . . Jacinda, can you change?”

He’s asking if I can demanifest.

I nod once. The fear is gone—can’t force me to stay a draki any longer. At the moment there is only pain . . . and more pain to come as I force my wings to merge back inside me. Especially the injured wing. But there is no choice. He can’t drive out of here with me sitting in the front seat in full manifest.

I take a deep gulp and clench the edge of the seat with bloody-slick fingers, burying my draki, pushing it back down, hiding it away.

My features relax and loosen, bones decompressing. My wings shudder, quake from their recent abuse. One wing settles back between my shoulder blades with ease. The other one possesses a life of its own, quivering, resisting the demanifest . . . the pain. Tears stream down my cheeks in steaming paths. I arch my neck, fight the scream that bubbles there.

With my draki finally buried, I breathe again, ease my grip on the dash, and crumple back against the seat.

Will tosses a blanket over me. Even though I was trapped in a hot, airless van for a day, I snuggle into the scratchy fabric, glad for the comfort.

“Jacinda, are you okay?”

I try to still the trembling aftershocks, but the harder I resist, the more fiercely the shudders rack me. “Just get me out of here.” The words sound rusty, unnatural.

With a single nod, he’s around the truck and inside the car in a flash. Soon, he’s guiding the vehicle out of the woods, through the thick trees until he reaches a small country road leading somewhere. Anywhere. Away. Nothing else really matters but that.

I slide weakly in the seat, reach out a hand, and brush the sun-warmed glass of the window. The pads of my fingers squeak as they slide against the smooth surface. Miram.

“Where were you?” I manage to choke out in a scratchy voice.

“I couldn’t come. Out of nowhere, Dad scheduled a hunt. Ever since we spotted you, he’s obsessed over that same area. He paired me up with a group that he sent out on the other side of the mountain. I hoped if I didn’t show up you would just head back home. I didn’t think they would move so close to the pride. God, Jacinda, I’m so sorry.”

I nod numbly. “You didn’t know.”

He releases a heavy breath and I know my words do nothing to alleviate his guilt. If I could say more to make him feel better, I would. I just hurt too much.

I lift my legs up on the seat and hug my knees, thinking about the girl I left behind. Thinking about Cassian’s face when he finds out.

“You couldn’t have helped her,” Will says, reading my thoughts. “She wouldn’t leave.”

“I should have forced her.”

“And caused a scene? You could hardly walk yourself. I practically had to carry you.”

This doesn’t comfort me. I lift my head, relishing the cool breeze of air-conditioning on my face.

“Rest now, Jacinda. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word trips through my mind until I feel so dizzy I have to close my eyes. My lids sink, so incredibly heavy. Bursts of color flash against the solid black, but it’s still better than opening my eyes again and facing the world.

Somewhere between thoughts of Miram and safety and the pain plaguing my body, I surrender to sleep.

I wake in a mostly darkened room. A dull orange light hugs one wall. I sit up, wincing at the pull in my back. With the pain comes reality.

“Will?”

“I’m right here.”

I follow the sound of his disembodied voice and locate him. His dark shape unfolds from a chair in the corner.

“Where are we?”

“In a motel. We’re safe.”

I carefully maneuver myself into a sitting position, biting my lips against the ache of my tender back. Still, it’s nothing compared to before. I can at least move without feeling the overwhelming need to scream. “How’d we get here?”

“You were exhausted. You needed rest. On an actual bed. Food, water—”

At the mention of food, my stomach growls.

“I got you to eat a little before you passed out,” he adds. “Do you remember? You consumed a burrito and soda in less than a minute before dropping into bed. You haven’t moved from that spot. Not even when I cleaned and bandaged your back. I was so worried.”

I shake my head. “I can’t remember any of that.”

“You’ve been through a lot.”

I nod. Sleep must have been my body’s way to heal. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Eight, ten hours.”

My entire body tenses. “Ten hours! What time is it?”