“Jacinda!” I look up. Will jumps over a fallen hunter and grabs me by both arms, giving me a small shake. “Are you okay?”
I snap from my daze and look away from all the fallen hunters. The odor of charred flesh still chokes me. Okay? No. I’m not okay. Tamra’s eyes close and her head rolls almost drunkenly on her shoulders.
I catch movement to my left and spin, ready to release my fire again even though I’m stunned at the damage I wreaked. Despite what that hunter would have gladly done to Tamra, to me, I’m shaken that I could have killed him.
But it’s no hunter standing there. It’s Deghan, watching us with bemusement in his slate eyes. He scans us, his attention lingering on my sister. Tamra takes an unsteady step and he’s there, catching her when her legs give out from under her. He lifts her up against his chest. She closes her eyes and presses fingers to her temples as though her head pains her.
His gaze locks with mine. I give a single nod, accepting that he’s got her. He’ll keep her safe.
My gaze sweeps through the mist, measuring each of the fallen hunters, lingering on the one with smoking burns on his arms. I motion to him, knowing that without treatment, left here unconscious, he might not survive.
Cassian is there again, Miram close to his side. He shakes his head at me. “We have to go. There are probably others, waiting for them to report in.”
“I won’t leave him to die.”
“He would have killed us—”
“I don’t care!” I look at Will and see he’s staring at the smoking body, too. Will’s eyes look distant, oddly glazed … and I can’t help thinking if he’s wondering about his family. That his father or Xander could be lying there. That I could have burned any of them had they been the ones to track us. That it could still happen. Is he sickened at what I did? As sickened as I am …
Will’s lips barely move when he speaks. “We can’t leave him to die here.” Relief washes through me that he’s with me in this.
Cassian snorts, his dark eyes flashing annoyance. “Of course you would say that.”
“Why don’t we call nine-one-one?” Tamra offers, blinking as though fighting to regain control of herself. She motions for Deghan to set her down. He carefully releases her, one hand still on her arm in case she should lose her balance again. “Leave an anonymous tip. An ambulance will come.”
Will and I share a look. I nod. “Okay.”
“Good,” Cassian declares. “Now let’s get moving.”
My chest tightens. I massage there, right in the center, as if I can rub out the feeling. Useless. I doubt it will ever go away. That I’ll ever feel normal again. Normal for me, anyway.
I may have killed a man. Knowing I did it to save my sister doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Suddenly I’m not sure what I should do anymore. What’s right. What’s wrong. Every direction I look, I see pain. I send a sidelong glance to Will. His features are intense, like something carved from stone.
With a grim nod, I follow, plunging back into the woods. But I don’t feel relief. I don’t feel free. My chest feels heavy, weighed down … with every step, every mile, that burden only gets heavier. This journey feels … endless.
When we reach the van we stop, our breaths ragged, but I think it’s more from the emotion and tumult of everything that just happened than from our actual sprint.
Will’s face is stoic, his square jaw locked as he opens the door for us and stands there, blocking us from getting inside. “Before we go anywhere we need to talk, get a few things straight.”
I nod. The rules of the game have changed.
Tamra glances around us uneasily as if more hunters might appear. The trees climb to the sky, blocking out the afternoon sun and shrouding us in long shadows.
Will arches an eyebrow at me. I nod dully. He’s right, of course. It’s on me to explain. I’m the one that figured out about the homing device in Miram.
“The hunters are going to track us again.” I swallow and cut my gaze to Miram, amending, “You. They’re going to find you again.” I look at Deghan, wondering if he knows what I’m talking about and just hasn’t bothered to tell us. “And you, too. Wherever you go, they’ll track you. Both of you. You can’t lose them.”
“How’d this happen?” Cassian demands, his eyes brightly feral, pupils quivering with emotion as he grapples with the knowledge that his sister isn’t free. Not yet.
“The enkros plant tracking devices in the heads of their captives.” I reflexively brush my fingers over my own pale patch of flesh hiding in my hair. I nod in the direction of Miram. “That’s how the hunters were led straight to her.”
Will watches me intently, missing nothing—including the way I rub at my head. They’d come so close to putting their mark on me—inside me.
“Did they do it to you?” Cassian asks.
I shake my head, dropping my hand. “No. You stopped them right before they could do it.”
“You were lucky,” Deghan says in his rumbling draki speech.
“And you?” Cassian’s head whips in his direction. “You were there a long time. They implanted you with the chip, too.”
“They could never get close enough to me to do it.” He glances down at his steel-colored flesh. “Anyone who did …” His voice fades, but I understand.
“They never knocked you out with one of their tranq guns?” Cassian asks.
“When they tried, they couldn’t break my skin.” He taps himself. “Good as armor.”
Suddenly, I have a good idea of why he survived so long with them—why he lived when all the others in his pride perished. They could never touch him.
Cassian drags his hands through his hair and paces a short invisible line, pausing only to stare in misery at his sister a few feet away, gazing off into the thick press of trees. She has to have heard what we’ve said, but she shows no reaction. She hasn’t stopped shaking since she found herself surrounded by hunters. Since she learned what’s inside her. She’ll never be free until we figure out a way to remove it. I’d probably be shaking, too. My fingers move to that shaved spot on my head again. Maybe worse. I might be clawing that thing out myself.
“What do we do?” Cassian swings around to look at each of us. This is the moment when I could—should—say, What do you mean we?
I say nothing. Only think agonizing, gnawing thoughts. I’m supposed to be leaving, walking away from all of this. I did what I promised and got Miram out of the stronghold. This should be the end of it.
I feel Will’s stare on the side of my face and know that’s what he’s thinking, too. That we’re supposed to be free of the pride. Right now. Freedom is close, almost ours—if I’ll only take it.
Cassian’s gaze cuts into me, and worse than that penetrating stare are the waves of absolute helplessness rushing from him to me like a raging, swollen river. His need and desperation mingle with my own emotions … overcome them, drown them until they’re just a whispery echo. I can’t ignore them. I can’t ignore him.
He shakes his head again. “We can’t go digging around in her head to get this … thing out of her. We could kill her doing that.”
I nod slowly. “I know. You have to take her home, talk to the others.” As much as I distrust Severin and many of the elders, they’ve been around longer than any of us. They know things. Especially Nidia. Maybe they’ve faced something like this before. “Maybe Nidia or one of the verda will know what to do,” I suggest.
I can’t think of a better solution. It’s not like we can admit Miram to a local hospital and ask them to remove the implant. I gnaw on the edge of my thumb. My mom would have had ideas, I’m sure. She could have removed the chip without killing the patient.
This only reminds me that she’s gone. That they banished her. I bite down a little harder on the salty edge of my thumb, welcoming the stab of pain. I can’t think about that betrayal right now. It will only make me angry and cloud my thoughts, and I need a cool head right now.
“You want to take her ho
me?” Tamra leans closer to Deghan, and I wonder if she’s conscious of the action. “Back to the pride where the hunters can follow? How is that smart?”
“Not directly to the township. Miram can hide somewhere nearby … on the mountain,” I say, thinking fast. “If hunters track her to that area, it’s not that great of a risk. They already know draki are in the vicinity.”
I’m referring to Will’s family, of course.
Will stares at me, his gaze unreadable, and I wonder what he’s thinking. At least with Cassian I know his emotions. That’s what happens when you experience each and every feeling together. And then, just as suddenly as I have this thought, I feel bad for comparing the two of them. For wishing my relationship with Will to be anything like what I have with Cassian. Will and I are real. What Cassian and I have is a manipulation, a result of bonding. Nothing more.
Cassian nods. “Yes. That will work.” He approaches his sister and squeezes her shoulder tenderly. She looks up at him, finally showing that she’s paying attention. “You’ll be fine, Miram. We’ll go home … we’re going to fix this.”
She nods and leans into him. He puts an arm around her shoulder and strokes a hand over her sandy brown hair, petting her like she’s a child. And I realize that she pretty much is. Older than Lia, but not tougher. At the thought of Lia I wince. Could a hunter already have caught her? What about the rest of the freed draki? Roc and the others? Were they already captured? Or worse?
I exhale a heavy breath. I can’t worry about them, too. We have our own problem to deal with. Miram in Cassian’s arms fills me with such desolation … It’s impossible to remain unaffected. To not care. Especially with Cassian’s emotions bombarding me. Rage. Defeat. Fear and sorrow.
“All right. We can’t stay here.” Will’s voice jars me back to reality. I tear my gaze from Cassian and Miram. His expression is so knowing, and I flush guiltily, my skin prickling hotly. I hate that I have this bond with Cassian that forever links us. That it’s something Will and I can never have. If I have this bond with anyone, it should be Will. But that’s not possible. It never was.
“Let’s get moving.”
We all pile in again. I ride up front with Will this time. It’s a relief not to face the others, especially Miram. There’s too much pain and regret when I look at her and think about what the enkros did. She’s still a captive even if she’s with us.
We bump along the rutted road, dirt billowing around us as we head back to the highway. Will reaches across the space separating us and takes my hand. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My fingers tighten around his hand and squeeze hard, needing him so much it’s a physical pang in my chest. The fear of losing him has always nipped at me, a growling beast snapping at my heels. But now it coats my mouth in a sour, metallic film. And I know why.
I’m considering helping Cassian and Miram return to the pride. And I might lose him if I do.
15
Will and I say nothing. It’s as though we know once we start talking, things will be said that will change everything. Change us. The dreams we had for ourselves aren’t as close to coming true as we thought. He has to know that. Sense that. For now, silence is my only comfort.
Although in that quiet, my mind circles back to the terrible thing I’ve done, to the possibility that I killed someone. We did stop to place a call to 911, but the awful feelings still nag at me. A tightness builds inside me that makes every breath an agonizing struggle for air. Words are beyond me. But even without words, my thoughts are loud inside my head. And I have plenty more to consider. There’s the matter of Miram. As long as she’s with us, as long as the homing device stays inside her … I shake my head. We’ll never be safe. It’s a situation I can’t ignore. I can’t let them all go on their merry way back to the pride as if this weren’t a problem.
We travel over an hour before Will slows the van. I blink like I’m waking from a dream as he pulls over at one of those mega travel centers that boasts multiple restaurants and showers. It’s practically a small city. The prospect of clean hair and fresh clothes perks me up a bit. Will parks at the far edge of the lot where there aren’t any other vehicles.
I join Will as he opens the back door. Everyone looks drained, slumped low, adrenaline long spent. Cassian clutches his side as though his ribs still pain him. He probably hurt himself again in the mad dash to rescue his sister. Tamra twists a matted lock of hair between her fingers.
“Anyone want a shower?” I ask, forcing a ring of cheerfulness into my voice.
Tamra is the quickest. Grabbing our bags, she hops down, equally delighted. Cassian follows. Miram doesn’t move.
“Miram,” I say gently, looking at her where she huddles in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest, her expression uncertain, like she isn’t sure if she can come or not. And who can blame her? “Would you like to wash up, too? You can wear some of our clothes.”
She doesn’t respond.
Cassian prompts her. “Miram?”
She gives a small jerk and then nods once, scooting toward the van door. “Yeah. Thanks,” she whispers, dropping down. Cassian drapes an arm around her and pulls her close. She forces a watery smile and snuggles into the shelter of his body. His face fixes in a cringe, but he doesn’t complain or remind her of his injuries.
Tamra lingers at the door, peering back in at Deghan. He sits with his wrists propped on his knees. “You going to be okay?” she asks.
I pat her shoulder and stifle a sigh. “C’mon. I’m pretty sure he can handle himself, Tamra.”
Her pale cheeks pink up, and she nods. Will shuts the van door, and we all walk together to the facility, guys and girls parting when we reach the showering area. I let Tamra and Miram go first. There are enough showers, but with Miram acting as a giant homing device for hunters … well, someone should stand guard.
Miram emerges with a towel around her. Her uncertainty returns when she sees me. I smile encouragingly, hoping to reassure her. Her expression eases, softens. I hand her some clothes and wait while she changes. She resurfaces in the fresh clothes, rubbing her hair dry with the towel.
“You can go ahead.” She gestures to the shower stall.
“That’s okay.” Tamra’s still showering. I can’t leave her alone yet.
“Oh.” She nods as my reason for staying sinks in. Squaring off in front of the mirror, she lifts my hairbrush to begin untangling her hair and stops, the brush hovering midair, directly above her head. I understand at once, following her gaze to where it’s fixed—to the incision behind her ear.
I gently remove the brush from her clenched fingers. “Here. Let me.” She stares at me, looking almost startled to see me.
I begin brushing. The fine sandy-colored strands untangle easily. I look over the top of her head, meeting her eyes as she watches me in the mirror. It’s silent, save for the distant noise of showers.
I start at the sound of her voice. “I should have gone with you.”
I pause for a moment, then resume brushing. “What do you mean?”
“When you tried to get me to leave with you and Will … I should have gone. I was just so used to not liking you. I didn’t want to follow you.”
“It’s okay.” What else can I say? It’s over and done.
“None of this would be happening if I had gone with you. I’m sorry. For everything, Jacinda.”
I shrug, trying to act like it’s nothing. “Then we never would have found Deghan. Some good came of it. He’d still be a prisoner in there. All those other draki would still be captives.” True, all the draki had implants, and are most likely going to be captured again, but they at least have a chance now. Just like Miram does. And I don’t want her focusing on the negatives.
“I guess I should care about them,” she says, looking at her scrubbed-fresh face in the mirror. Impossibly young, innocent. “But I just wish none of it had ever happened. I wish I were home. With Dad. Aunt Jabel.”
I finish with her hair, unsure what
to say to that. Not sure there is anything to say.
Tamra joins us then, already dressed. “Your turn,” she says.
“Great. I’ll be fast. Why don’t you two go get some food and I’ll meet you back at the van?”
Tamra nods and gathers up her things. I shower quickly, even though I would love nothing more than to stand under the warm spray for an hour and let it ease all the tension from my body.
I meet up with Will on the way back from the shower. He’s carrying a brown paper bag.
“Get anything good?”
“Oh yeah.” He smiles. Now that he’s freshly showered and shaved, his clean soapy scent fills my nose. “C’mon. I’ll show you.” Taking my hand, he pulls me off the asphalt parking lot to one of the many picnic tables dotting the grass.
We sit on top of a splintery-wood table and he fumbles inside the brown bag. I try to get a glimpse, but he shakes a finger at me and twists his body so I can’t see inside it.
He looks over his shoulder. “Ready?”
I grin and bounce my knees. “Yes! Show me.”
He whips around. “Ta-da!”
I stare down uncomprehendingly at the box in his hands. “What is it?”
He looks from me to the box in amazement. “What is it?” he echoes. “You don’t know?”
I read the print on the box. “Cracker Jack?”
He nods excitedly.
I examine the box. Caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts. “So … junk food?”
He looks appalled. “Not just any junk food. It’s like the first junk food ever.” He rips open the box and shakes some of the sticky popcorn into my palm, then his. “This was my mom’s favorite.”
He tosses the snack into his mouth and chews. I watch for a moment, enjoying the sight of him, the way his eyes crinkle in pleasure. I relish just sitting here. With him. “You don’t talk about her that much.”
“I was so young when she died. I wish I could remember her more clearly,” he says matter-of-factly as he shakes some more Cracker Jack into his hand. “At night, in my bed, I try to run through all the memories of her I do have, almost like I’m exercising them, you know?” He looks at me. “Keeping them fresh and in shape before they fade away completely.”
Hidden: A Firelight Novel Page 11