Firelight with Bonus Material Page 15

  One stone reaches me over the others. I close my eyes, absorbing the thread of fresh energy.

  “Which one?” I whisper, opening my eyes, but already suspecting.

  She lifts the amber from the cozy nest of its brethren.

  Of course. My jaw tightens. I knew. Somehow I knew this was the one leaving me.

  I lean in, staring, memorizing, vowing to find it again. Silently, I communicate this, watch the amber pulse with light. Wink and glint as if it hears me and understands.

  I will reclaim you. Someday. When I’m no longer a prisoner of my mother’s whims. If I haven’t faded entirely by then. Wilted to nothing, turned into the phantom she wants me to be. I reach out to stroke its surface. Warm and throbbing. Life infuses me instantly.

  Like she knows it’s feeding me, Mom pulls back, holding the gem just out of reach.

  My skin weeps, contracts. I surge forward, hungry for its feel again.

  “You have to stop this. Let go of the old life.” Mom’s gaze burns into me, and I’m reminded of the way she used to look. Alive, vibrant. Maybe the stones are still singing to some part of her, too. “There’s so much waiting for you here, if you’ll just open yourself to it.”

  “Yeah,” I growl. “Maybe I’ll try out for cheerleading.”

  She angles her head, looks at me sharply. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Yeah. She would love that. And I wish I could. It would almost be easier if I could do that. If I could be like Tamra.

  “I’m not Tamra, Mom! I’m a draki—”

  “No, you’re—”

  “It’s who I am. If you want to kill that part of me, then what you really want is to kill me.” I inhale deeply. “Dad understood that.”

  “And he’s dead. It got him killed.”

  I blink. “What?”

  She turns away, slams the amber back into the lockbox, and I think she’s decided the conversation is over, but then she faces me again, and her face isn’t hers at all. A stranger stares at me, her eyes overly bright, darting wildly like an animal’s emerging from the cover of woods. “He thought he might find another pride to take us in. One that wouldn’t expect that we sacrifice our daughter—”

  “A rival pride?” I demand, hot denial sweeping over me. It’s forbidden to consort with other prides. Ever since the days of the Great War when we practically killed one another off. “Dad wouldn’t do that!” Did he think he could simply find a pride that wouldn’t slaughter him on sight?

  “For you? For us?” She laughs a broken sound. “Oh yes. He would. Your father would go to any length to protect you, Jacinda.” Her eyes turn bleak. “He did.”

  I shake my head, fighting her words. Dad did not die because of me. It can’t be.

  “It’s true,” she says, like she can read my mind, and I know it’s the truth. The terrible, sickening truth. I tremble, hurting so much I can barely breathe. I’m the reason Dad’s dead.

  I suck in air. “And you blame me for that. Why don’t you just say it?”

  Her eyes flash wide before narrowing. “Never. I blame the pride.”

  I move my head side to side slowly, as if underwater. “I want to go back.” I don’t even know anymore if I mean this. I just want to get away from her, from all she’s telling me. It’s too much. I almost tell her about Cassian right then. Something stops me though, keeps the words from tumbling out. “You and Tamra can stay here. Maybe I can visit—”

  She shakes her head fiercely. “Absolutely not. You’re my daughter. You belong with me.”

  “I belong with the pride. With mountains and sky.”

  “I’ll not have you bonded at sixteen!”

  Can’t she see? There’s only trouble, pain, and death, for anyone who tries to leave the pride? “They won’t do that.” Cassian promised. “I won’t let—”

  She laughs then. The wild sound frightens me. “Oh, Jacinda. When are you going to get it? Do I need to spell it out for you?”

  I shake my head, confused, starting to feel like maybe I shouldn’t have believed Cassian so readily. That night outside Chubby’s suddenly feels long ago. Why is it I believed him again? “I already know they want me to bond with Cassian…sooner than—”

  “That’s not the half of it.” She stalks forward, snatches hold of my arm. “Do you want to know what the pride planned for you?”

  Cold dread sweeps over me, deep and awful, but I nod.

  “If we hadn’t left when we did, they were going to clip your wings.”

  I jerk my arm free and stumble back, shaking my head…just shaking. No, no, no. Our pride hasn’t performed the barbaric practice in generations. Wing clipping is an ancient form of corporal punishment for draki. To rob a draki of the ability to fly is the ultimate punishment…and extremely painful.

  “They wouldn’t do that to me,” my voice rasps.

  “You’re property, an object to them. A precious commodity for their future. They would do anything to keep you.”

  I see Cassian’s face, remember his earnest expression. He couldn’t have been lying, couldn’t have known this was in store for me. He couldn’t have wanted me to return with him and face that. No way. I don’t believe it. “It’s not true. You would have told me before—”

  “I’m telling you now. They had very specific plans for you, Jacinda. They weren’t willing to take any chances with you. Not after that last stunt you pulled.”

  Now the tears roll down my face, hissing on my steaming cheeks. “You’re just saying this so I won’t go back.” My voice isn’t my own. Hot emotion clenches my throat so that I can hardly breathe.

  “Grow up, Jacinda. You’re not a little girl anymore. It’s the truth. Deep in your bones, you know it. Do you want to go back to that?”

  “Mom,” Tamra says from the doorway. She stares at me in concern. Her smooth brow creases in a way that reminds me of when we were little girls, both so protective of each other. We constantly snuck into each other’s bed at night…just to assure ourselves that the other one was okay.

  With that memory, I don’t feel so terribly alone. Just embarrassed. I dash a hand against my wet cheeks. Tears make me feel weak, small. Two things a draki shouldn’t be.

  Maybe I’m more human than I thought.

  Mom’s voice softens and I jerk as she touches my shoulder. “You can’t go back, Jacinda. Ever. You understand now?”

  Nodding, I lower my head. Let my hair fall into my eyes. So she won’t see the tears. The defeat. Because I know she’s not lying. Everything she said is the truth. I can’t go back to the pride.

  I’m trapped if I stay here. I’m trapped if I return to them. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be free.

  The truth presses down on me. A brutal, cutting pain driving into my shoulder blades.

  I dart past my sister standing in the doorway, nearly tripping in my rush to escape. Numbly, I hear her whispering to Mom. For a second, I wonder if she knows about the wing clipping, too. If she’s known all along. Cassian had to know that his dad and the elders intended to cut my wings. How could he stare me in the face and lie with such sincerity? Did he care nothing for me? For the friendship we once shared?

  I feel foolish and lost…stupid. My certainty that they would never force me to bond too young is ridiculous knowing now that they were willing to cripple me in the worst possible way. They’re capable of anything.

  Hunching over, I clutch my midsection as I shove through the bathroom door. Lunging to the toilet, I empty my stomach, sobbing through the painful shudders, retching over and over again.

  Shaking, broken, I finally stop. Collapse back onto the floor. Weak. Listless. Leaning against the cool wall, I grip my quivering face with both hands and accept that everything I ever knew to be true, everything I ever believed in, doesn’t exist.

  I can never go home. I have no home.

  I don’t know how long I sit on the floor before a knock sounds at the door. From the painful needles prickling my numb back and bottom, I�
�m guessing it’s been a while.

  “Go away,” I call.

  Exhausted from crying, I listen to the sound of my own breath sawing from my lips for several moments.

  Tamra’s voice floats through the wood, so soft and low it takes me a moment to process.

  “It’s not your fault, Jacinda. Don’t beat yourself up. Of course, you trusted them.”

  My head snaps up, stares at the door.

  She knows? She cares?

  I guess I shouldn’t feel surprise. She’s my sister. As different as we are, I never felt she hated me or blamed me for fitting in with the pride when she couldn’t. At her core, she never blamed me for Cassian. For having him without trying. Now if I screwed things up for her here, in Chaparral, she would blame me for that.

  As if she can read my mind, she continues, “The way they treated you…like some kind of monument for the pride. Not real, not anyone they respected or cared about…it was wrong. Cassian was wrong.” She sighs, and I wonder how it is she knows what I need to hear from her right now. “I just want you to know that.” Pause. “I love you, Jacinda.”

  I know, I almost say.

  The shadow of her feet beneath the door disappears. I bite my lip until the coppery tang of blood runs over my teeth. Slowly, I stand and leave the bathroom.

  21

  That night it rains for the first time since I’ve been here.

  I’d started to think that I might never again see it or taste it on my skin. That I had moved to some forgotten corner of the world without rain, without lush greens. Where the earth whispers no song.

  But tonight the sky breaks open—weeps copious tears. On the day Mom reveals the final ugly truth she hid from me. It’s appropriate. Fitting somehow that rain should fall.

  With droplets licking at the windows, I think about Will stuck with his awful family. A prisoner like me. I trace my chapped lips, feel him there with the brush of my parched fingertips.

  Idly, I wonder what it would have felt like if Cassian had kissed me. Another draki. Would my draki have responded to him? Would the kiss have held the same magic? Could he have kissed me and still lied to my face? Would he have stood by and watched as they clipped my wings?

  I roll onto my side. Listen hard. Listen like I’ve never heard rain before. My skin savors the thrumming sound. Its gentle beat on the pebbled path outside. Its pinging on the metallic roof of the garden shed.

  I smile a little. Feel hope in the soft, steady pattern that fills the silence of night. Exhilaration. Anticipation. The same way I felt when Will’s lips touched mine.

  Dad wouldn’t want me to blame myself for his death, and he wouldn’t want me to give up. I love my mother, but she’s wrong. My draki is too much a part of who I am. I can’t go back to the pride. And I can’t stay here, avoiding Will, waiting for Cassian to show up.

  There has to be another way.

  Dad would want me to fight, to find a way to keep my draki alive. He died trying to find another option for us. He made a choice. And it wasn’t to bury us within the mortal world. Even if he didn’t succeed, he believed it was possible.

  His voice floats through my head, almost as though he sits beside me: Find a new pride, Jacinda.

  My fingers curl, flex open, and shut against the edge of my comforter. That’s it—the answer. What I need to do.

  I may not know the exact location of any other prides, but I know someone who does. I can question Will. And I saw the map with my own eyes. If I could just study it a little longer, I could memorize the precise spots.

  It’s something. A start.

  Whether I can get the information out of Will and get into that room again without raising his suspicions is another matter. Clearly, I’ll have to spend more time with him….

  A chill rasps the back of my neck as I contemplate how I might do that without making him wonder at my sudden change of heart.

  A bird calls outside. The sound is bewildered, desperate. A yippy ka-kaa-ka-kaa. And I wonder at the stupid creature. Picture it sitting on its branch as the rain beats down on its frail, slight body. Wonder why it doesn’t take shelter. Seek cover. Hide. Why it doesn’t know any better. Maybe it’s lost, like me—out of its element. Maybe it can’t go home. Maybe it has no home.

  My contented smile melts away. I shiver at a sudden cold in the room. Pull the bedspread higher, up to my chin, and try to get warm.

  Rolling into as tight a ball as possible, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the sound.

  I feel Mom kiss my cheek, brush the hair back off my forehead like she used to do when I was little. The room is dark. Not morning yet. The barest light spills in from the kitchen.

  She must have come home after her shift to pick up her things. The amber. My heart seizes with the memory.

  I inhale, detect the nutty musk of coffee in the air. She’ll need it to help her stay awake on the drive. Wherever she’s going can’t be close and she’s been up all night.

  “Be good,” she whispers just like I’m six again. She would say that every day when Tamra and I walked out the door for school. “I love you.” Yeah, she said that, too.

  Through slit eyes, I watch her shadow move to Tamra, asleep in her bed. Hear Mom’s lips pat her cheek. Another hushed good-bye.

  Then she’s gone from the room. Gone to sell our family’s legacy. A piece of my soul I may never get back.

  The light in the kitchen disappears. Snuffs out like a doused match. The front door lock clicks into place behind her. I resist jumping to my feet, running out the door, grabbing her, stopping her, throwing myself in her path and begging her to see me, love that part of me she could never love inside herself.

  Tamra rustles in the bed opposite me, settling back to sleep and peaceful oblivion.

  Then, quiet. A funereal hush. Only I’m awake. Aware.

  My heart bleeding.

  22

  We hurry out the door and rush along the pebbled path circling the pool. Without Mom here to push and prod us, we’re running late. Again.

  Last night on the phone, she promised to be home in time to pick us up from school today. I’m glad at least we won’t have to take the bus anymore. I hate the smell, the choking exhaust that finds its way inside.

  Mrs. Hennessey’s television blares from her house and I see the blinds snap apart. A red chipped fingernail holds down a slat. Checking on us while Mom’s been gone has failed to significantly alter her normal routine of spying. Now she just has an excuse.

  Tamra speed-walks in front of me. She’s always eager to get to school, but today especially. Today, she tries out for the squad.

  I’ll be there after school. Watching and clapping. Showing my support. Even as I plot to leave it all behind. An unpleasant lump rises in my chest. Maybe even leave her behind.

  When the time comes, I hope she and Mom will join me with the new pride, but I know it’s more likely that I will do it on my own. Regardless, it’s a chance I have to take. Just like the chance I’m taking in leaving…in locating a pride that will accept me and not cut me down before I have time to explain myself to them.

  Walking through the side gate, I sip from a travel mug. Mom doesn’t usually let us have coffee, but then, she’s not here.

  Tamra jerks to a halt in front of me. Her Pop-Tart tumbles to the ground, only one bite missing. I collide into her, hissing as hot coffee dribbles over my fingers.

  “What are you—”

  “Jacinda.” She bites out my name like she does when I do something really annoying. Filch the carefully buttered roll from her plate. Steal the drink off the counter that she just poured for herself. Replace her matched socks for one of my mismatched pairs.

  The tiny hairs on my nape prickle. I follow her gaze to the street. A black Land Rover waits at the curb. Motor rumbling. The driver door swings opens and Will steps out. Approaches slowly, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

  I freeze. He’s been gone the last few days—another hunt, I’m sure—delaying my plans
to pump him for information. He steps onto the sidewalk and rocks on the balls of his feet. He looks beautiful standing there, and a familiar ache starts in my chest as I wonder how I can love and fear the sight of someone with the same intensity.

  I don’t move. My chest starts to hurt.

  “Breathe,” Tamra commands quietly beside me.

  Right. I inhale through my nostrils. That eases the ache a bit. But there’s still the hot vibrations starting at my core, the need to purr welling up inside me.

  “What are you…” The pathetic whisper of my voice fades.

  Tamra drops back beside me. Our shoulders brush. I shoot her a look. She’s glaring at me like I have something to do with Will standing on our curb.

  In the distance, the bus approaches. The roar of its choking engine growls louder. Any moment it will round the corner of our street.

  I shake my head at her. She says my name again. Stretches it out like a long hissing wind. “Jacinda.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I deny.

  Will speaks at last. “I thought you might like a ride to school.”

  We gawk at him.

  “Both of you,” he quickly adds, lifting one hand out of his pocket and motioning to each of us. Tamra and I exchange glances.

  The bus turns the corner.

  “Does this normally work for you?” I try for boredom, diffidence, but my voice is all wrong. Rings with something like anger.

  He looks confused. “What?”

  “Show up uninvited on a girl’s lawn—smile sweet and expect her to jump in the front seat with you?”

  “Easy,” Tamra whispers, and I wonder if it’s because she’s afraid I’ll lose my temper and manifest in front of him or because she actually wants me to get somewhere with the guy she warned me to stay away from. But why would she want that? So I’ll fit in and like it here?

  He nods, ducks his head. Looks sweetly—disgustingly—humble. Like he can read my mind, he says, “Only once before.” His lips curve in a slow, conspiratorial smile. I can’t help it. I blush madly and my face tightens in that dangerous way as I recall the night I first hopped in his car.