Firelight (18 page)

“What did you want me to do? The pride was our home,” I reminded.

Her nostrils flare, pain burning bright in her eyes. “Your home. Never mine. I was always the in-truder, stuck watching Cassian fawn over you. Everyone loved you. Wanted to be your friend, your boyfriend, your everything—”

“I never asked for that. Never asked for Cassian to—”

“No, but you got it. You got him. And not because of you. Not because he loved you.” She shakes her head. “You know, I could have lived with that, with the two of you together…if he really loved you.”

She utters this like it’s the greatest impossibility. A joke. I lift my face as if there’s a breeze in the sucking heat that might give me some relief.

No relief. She continues, “But it’s not who you are that lures people in. It’s what. Firstborn wins the prize. Everything. Everyone. Even Dad. You two had your little members-only club.” She inhales deeply through her nose.

“Are you trying to be cruel?” I snap. “I can’t change any of that. I couldn’t then. I can’t now.”

She doesn’t speak for a long moment. When she finally does, her voice is softer. “Can’t you learn to like it just a little, Jacinda?” Some of the spark fades from her amber eyes, and while I see that she resents me—she doesn’t hate me. At least she doesn’t want to.

I shake my head, not to signify no, but rather that I don’t know how to answer. I know she doesn’t want to hear the truth, that she won’t like it. She doesn’t want to hear that I have been trying. For me, it’s not a matter of choosing to like it here or not. It’s not something I can control. What does it matter anyway? I won’t be here much longer. Of course, I can’t tell her that.

We climb into the car then. Tamra in the front seat. Me, in the back.

“Hey! How was school?” Mom asks.

Tamra says nothing. Neither do I. The air is thick, strained. Mom looks between us as she works her way out of the parking lot. “That bad.”

Tamra grunts.

I wait, holding my breath to see if she will say anything about the pep rally. About me and Will.

Moments crawl by and nothing. I sigh softly, relieved. Guess she wants to stay here that badly. Or maybe she regrets her outburst. She’s the queen of bottling up her emotions. Knowing her, she’s regretting letting it spill out.

I wonder if she would speak up if she knew the truth. Knew who Will really was. Would it matter then? Probably not. For once she’s too focused on herself and getting what she wants. And I can’t blame her for that. Because she’s right. It’s never been about Tamra before. And I always felt bad about that. Then and now.

But not bad enough to give up on myself. Not bad enough to embrace the ghost my draki will become if I stay here and do nothing. And it’s easy to justify. Because my leaving will set her free.

Tamra and Mom. A sad realization. To know the ones you love will be better off without you around.

“Jacinda?” Mom prods.

“Great,” I lie. “I had a great day.”

Because that’s all either one of them wants me to say.

Firelight

20

We’re almost home when Mom makes her big announcement.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

I’m stunned for a moment, actually thinking she might mean we all will be leaving tomorrow. Then I remember. She’s going to sell a gem. The glowing amber. Frozen fire.

I lean forward to look at her, straining to see for myself if she’s serious.

How can she do it? How can she pretend she’s not taking away a piece of me, tearing off a bit of my heart and selling it to someone who thinks it’s just a chunk of rock? Valuable, but lifeless. Dead.

“First thing tomorrow morning. You’ll have to take the bus. I plan to be back in time to pick you up Friday afternoon. I’ve told Mrs. Hennessey already and she’ll check in on both you guys.”

A feeling starts in my belly, a twisting dread…the same way I felt years ago when Severin arrived at our door to tell us Dad was missing.

“Mrs. Hennessey?” Tamra wrinkles her nose. Since she doesn’t ask why Mom’s leaving, clearly she already knows. And doesn’t care. Only I care. Only I feel sick at the thought….

“Where are you going?” I demand, needing to know. Like it will somehow matter. Like maybe, someday, I can find the stone and save it from being lost into perpetuity.

Mom is silent.

“Where are you going to sell it?” I press.

“This is so great,” Tamra says, digging for something in her backpack and asking with an idleness that sets my teeth on edge, “Can we move? But stay in the same school zone, of course. Oh, and how about cell phones? I think we’re the only two in the entire school who don’t—”

“Settle down, Tam. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Mom pats her knee. “This is just to ease some of the strain. We’re not moving yet. This should help buy you girls some new clothes…cheer supplies if you make the squad. And maybe I can ease up on my shifts. Stay home a couple nights. I miss my girls. Maybe”—she slides us both a warm look, her eyes bright, shining with promise—“maybe I’ll even see about getting you two a car.”

Tam squeals. Flies across the seat to strangle Mom in a hug as she drives.

A car? A family gem for a car? A hunk of machinery that will last maybe a decade? Hardly a fair trade. I stare out the window, too outraged. Hot emotion thickens my throat, moving me beyond speech.

The car will be for Tamra, of course. Tam wasn’t kidding before about me not driving. I can’t. The world would be safer with a toddler behind the wheel.

Blinking burning eyes, I watch the yards fly past. All rock and strategically arranged boulders. Cacti, sleeping bougainvillea, and desert sage. Flowing ribbons of heat dance above the sun-bleached asphalt.

“I need you girls to promise to behave, check in with Mrs. Hennessey. Let her know if you need anything. I’ll call every day.”

“Yes! Anything!” The seat springs protest my sister’s bouncing.

“Jacinda?” Mom says my name from the front seat. Like she’s waiting. Expecting something from me.

It’s no use arguing with her. Her mind is made up. But so is mine. Something has to give. Break loose. And it’s going to be me.

They’re too happy here, settled, well on their way to making the life they’ve always wanted. They don’t want to leave. And I can’t stay.

“Whatever,” I choke out—vague enough to satisfy her, I hope. For a moment I feel winded, like the air has been punched from my chest.

Once Dad took us to an amusement park in Oregon. One of those brief getaway vacations from the pride Mom always made a point to plan. Back when Tamra and I were simply sisters whose chief complaint with each other revolved around sharing toys. Before I ever manifested. I plummeted twenty stories on a drop ride. Totally helpless to gravity. Unable to fly, to save myself…

I feel that same helpless terror now. Because nothing I say will divert Mom off her present course.

Nothing will make her realize what she’s doing to me.

I’m falling.

And this time, nothing will save me. No mechanical device will work its wonder and jerk me back at the last minute.

But she does realize, a small voice whispers through me. That’s why she’s doing it. That’s why she brought you here. She wants me to hit ground.

Later that night, I find Mom packing in her room. She’s dressed for work, planning to leave after her shift ends. The stainless steel box sits on her bed, near her half-packed duffel. Alarm stabs my heart at the sight of it. “You’re not selling them all?” I demand.

She looks up, folding a shirt. “No.” She resumes packing, her movements measured, slow.

I nod, relieved, inch toward the lockbox. My palms tingle, itching to open it. “Can I see it?”

She sighs. “Don’t do this to yourself, Jacinda. Just forget about it.”

“I can’t.” I touch the lid, stroke it. My throat aches. “Just show me. One last time.”

She shakes her head. “You’re determined to make this hard on yourself.”

“Show me.”

She digs in her pocket, her movements angry, her voice a low mutter as she brandishes the key. Unlocking the box, she flings back the lid.

I suck in a breath at the instant glow of color.

Lilting voices surround me. Whisper-soft, they embrace me, remind me of my true nature, slowly fading from this world. But not as fast as Mom thinks. Not with Will around. He’s probably the only reason my draki still lives. In this desert, without gems, without him, I’m doomed. Like Will’s kiss, the stones reach my core…resuscitate me. My skin snaps. Trembles.

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.