Vanish
Page 27

 Sophie Jordan

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Cassian and I eat together in silence, our last meal alone. Then I catch myself and realize all the remaining nights this week will be like this. Him. Me. Alone.
We’ll go our separate ways during the day, performing our duties, socializing, living. But our nights are reserved for each other. My skin shivers, heat crawling deep beneath the skin.
Until, of course, I make my escape.
“Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to see my sister,” I answer truthfully, before I can think that maybe I shouldn’t bring up Tamra.
He nods, scrapes the tines of his fork along his plate. “Maybe I should come with you—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I quickly say.
He nods again, slowly, processing. “Okay.”
I stab a piece of fish on my plate. I don’t need him hanging around when I tell my sister that I plan to run away with Will and want her to come with us.
“For now,” he adds.
I look up, frowning. “What do you mean?”
He continues, “I can’t hide from your sister forever. We have to make things right.”
“You think that can happen?” I ask, staring intently at him. “That you can make things right with Tamra?”
He grimaces, shifts in his chair across from me. “I hope so. She’s your sister and I’m your . . .”
I stare at him, my gaze sharp, cutting. Don’t say it. We’re not that. You’re not my chosen mate.
“We’re family now. All of us.”
I say nothing. Gripping my plate, I rise and enter the kitchen and start on the dishes with feverish intensity.
Cassian joins me. Side by side, I wash and he dries. We work silently, fall into a rhythm. I wince as I think of my parents doing this same thing for years, standing in this very spot. Bonded. Connected.
Only we’re not my parents. Not even close. We don’t laugh and talk. We don’t share stories about our day. I don’t allow that. I feel a certain sadness drifting off him and settling deeply into me, mingling with my own heartache for Will and Mom. And this only makes me madder. I shouldn’t have to feel his emotions. I have enough of my own to cope with.
As we perform our mundane task, I think about tomorrow. When I’ll see Tamra again. When we can talk about how we will leave this world behind forever. A world that steals from you and gives nothing in return.
Chapter 25
I rise early and don’t bother with breakfast. No sound comes from Cassian’s room as I slip from the house. I rush through the township, through streets that are mostly bare, the dawn air thick as chalk dust, still and silent except for my thundering tread and gasping breath.
As I hurry down Main, my spirits lift when Nidia’s cottage comes into view. Then my elation is crushed.
My heart seizes as Corbin steps into my path, appearing out of nowhere. From behind a hedge, I guess. As though he were lying in wait. He grabs my arm and drags me beneath one of the many evergreens lining the lower half of Main. He presses me against the rough bark, trapping me between the massive tree and his body.
“Take your hands off me,” I hiss. My body reacts instantly, instinct kicking in. Fire erupts at my core, smolder eating up my throat. The taste of ash and char coats my mouth.
“Let’s get something straight.”
I don’t listen, don’t care to hear whatever it is he has to say.
Shaking with fury, I glare down at his hands on my arms. Emotion sweeps over me in a hot burn. “You dare touch me? Cassian will kill—”
“Oh, very affecting. I’m impressed. I almost believe you and Cassian are a true couple instead of the charade you’re playing at.”
Cold sweeps through me, dousing my heat. “W-what do you mean?”
Corbin leans in, brushes his nose to my cheek, and inhales sharply. I cringe at the contact and blink once, hard. “I know the truth,” he whispers, his voice a harsh rasp in my ear. “You’re not his. You’ve never been his. You’ve always held yourself from him. Bonding with him hasn’t changed that.”
I open my mouth to deny this, but can’t. I can’t say the words, can’t insist that Cassian and I are in love. Saying those words, with Will in my heart . . . I just can’t. Whether it’s good for me or not. Instead I growl, “Get away from me.”
“I’d see it in your eyes. He’d be a part of you. But you’re the same. Unchanged.”
It’s strange, but I almost hope he’s right.
His eyes glint, flash down at me. “Still untouched.” He smiles then, a cruel twist of his lips. “Which means there’s still a chance for us.”
I snort. “You’re crazy.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Only I know the truth, and soon everyone else will, too. If I have to singlehandedly make them see it. I’ll prove it. And then I’ll be there to do what my cousin is too much of a coward to do.”
I can’t breathe as I stare up into his face. If I didn’t know I needed to get away—far away—this would only confirm it. Corbin is crazy enough to do just what he says.
He inches his head closer . . . like he’s actually going to kiss me. “I’ll still claim you.”
I don’t think. Just react. I part my lips and release the burn that froths at my core, making my skin contract and snap fiercely.
Steam pours from my lips in a thin ribbon. Satisfaction swells inside me as the hot vapor scalds him. He howls, clutching the right side of his face. I seize my opportunity and squeeze out from between him and the tree.
I run the rest of the way to Nidia’s, his shouts chasing after me.
“It’s you and me, Jacinda. I’m going to own you! You can’t run forever!”
I jerk to a hard stop at Nidia’s door and resist the urge to pound the wood with my fist. It’s still early. No sense beating the door as if wild wolves were chasing me.
I rest one hand against the door, the other to my heart, gathering my breath. When the door pulls opens, I stop just short of falling forward.
Tamra stands there, her red-rimmed eyes inscrutable, but I know she’s hurting as much as I am.
“Let’s run away,” I blurt. Just like that. No easing in, no working up to it.
Holding my breath, I wait and hope I’m not off base to think she’ll even consider the risky venture. That she’ll even want to surrender her newfound status with the pride. It feels like forever as I wait for her to answer me, to speak, to say anything.
“How soon can we leave?”
I release a ragged breath, almost weep from the relief—and then I realize the tricky part is still left. I have to explain Will.
I glance over my shoulder, making sure Corbin is gone, and then I turn around and glance pointedly inside the house. Tamra quickly motions me in and leads me to her room—what was once Nidia’s spare room. The bedroom doesn’t bear her mark yet. She’s transferred very little from her old room at our house into it. Even Nidia’s sewing table still occupies one side.
I sit on the unmade bed, the covers a wild tangle beneath me.
She closes the door softly. “So how are we going to do this?”
I brace myself and meet her gaze and say the one word that should explain it all. “Will.”
She stares at me for several moments and then asks in a surprisingly even voice. “Have you been seeing him?”
I nod.
“The day Miram and you . . .” Her voice fades. Sucking in a breath, she asks what I’ve been dreading, “Were you meeting Will then?”
Again, I nod. She sighs, and the sound is tired.
“I left you and Mom notes, but Miram took them, and she followed me. Then the hunters came. . . .”
She shakes her head.
“Are you very angry?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m so tired. Tired of being mad. I just want to leave here. Find Mom and never come back.” The pain in her voice makes me feel even worse. Because I put it there. At least partly. And because I can’t promise her peace. At least not yet.
“There’s something I have to do before we can find Mom. I was hoping you would help me.” With her particular talent, Tamra’s assistance could be the difference between life and death.
Wariness fills her smoky gaze. “What?”
“I’m going to rescue Miram.” And then I’d be square with the pride. With Cassian. With myself.
Her eyes widen. “Miram? But isn’t she with the enkros?”
I nod. “But they won’t have killed her yet. I don’t think. Not for a while. They’ll want to do some”—I shy from the foulness of the word experimenting and substitute—“observing.”
“So you think you can just march into wherever they have her and ask nicely for them to hand her over?”
I angle my head and say slowly, “No, but I think I can bust her out. With Will’s help. And yours. I owe her that.” And Cassian, I can’t help thinking.
“You owe her? Miram? She’s never been anything but a jerk.”
“She never would have been taken if I hadn’t been out there waiting for Will.”
Tamra digests this, looking me over appraisingly.
“Look,” I say, “let’s just make it to their stronghold, check it out . . . and then we’ll see.” I bite my lip, hoping she can’t read my thoughts. That once I have the enkros stronghold in sight, I’m going in. No way I’m backing out. I’m getting Miram free . . . and I just might do a little damage in the process. My blood warms at this, and I feel stronger, fortified. The idea of taking the entire operation down gives me a decided rush.
“All right,” she agrees, but the hesitation is there, clear in her voice, reminding me of every time I dragged her into a scheme that she didn’t really want to do.
“Mom left a note,” I say, happy to give her some bit of good news.
Her eyes brighten. “Where? What did it say?”
“I destroyed it. Didn’t want anyone to find it, but it said ‘Remember the palm tree.’”
“‘Remember the palm tree’? What’s that mean?”
Disappointment stabs me. Tamra doesn’t remember either. “I don’t know, but she obviously thought it would mean something to us. I’m sure we can figure it out.”
“Yeah.” She nods, and her voice sounds stronger, less miserable, and I’m so vastly relieved Mom left a clue, a life raft in a turbulent sea. Something, anything, to hang on to. Tamra’s steady gaze rests on me. “When do we go?”
“Will is supposed to meet me in three days.”
“Three days,” she murmurs, looking disappointed. “And then we have to find Miram and bring her back here before searching for Mom? We’re really going to keep Mom hanging like that? For a girl we don’t even like?”
“Well, we don’t know what Mom’s note means yet. We don’t know where to go. And Mom would know we might not get to slip away soon. She won’t give up on us.”
Tamra’s gaze narrows on me. “So you’re supposed to live with Cassian for three more days?” Her accusing voice claws through me. Like this is something I’ve done deliberately. Something I want. It’s the first time she’s mentioned Cassian. It’s more than awkward talking about the boy she’s obsessed over for her whole life—who happens to be bonded to me now.
My mind flashes to the cold press of those cutters on my wings. The memory echoes through me and I can taste the fear like I’m there again. Up on that block. Has she forgotten that?
One side of her mouth curls as she adds, “That should be cozy.”
“It’s not . . .” I wet my lips. “It’s not like that.”
Her stare penetrates and I pluck at the edge of a twisted sheet, thinking I need to choose my words carefully. I can read the question in her eyes. What is it like then?