Софи Джордан - Firelight

Big words. I feel like such a fake. Because despite my vow to forget him, I haven’t. I remember everything about him. I feel his absence. Like the loss of shaded skies, mists, and pulsing earth.

He cannot possibly be all that I remember, all that I crave to see again. Even as I know it’s wrong. Even as I know that I must avoid him.

Walking into study hall, my steps falter when I spot Xander and Angus in the back of the room. Cold prickles down my neck.

They’re back.

Immediately, I search for Will. See him nowhere.

My treacherous heart sinks. Xander watches me, his tar black eyes impenetrable. He sends me a hello nod. Angus talks to the girls at the table beside them, his big crushing hands moving the air. He doesn’t notice me.

Only one desperate thought echoes through my mind. No Will. No Will.

I sink onto my stool. Face forward. Catherine hasn’t made it to study hall yet. She has a long trek from the art building.

I rub my hands over my jeans. Everyone begins lining up at the front of the room, eager for a pass, looking for escape. I feel Xander’s stare on my back and consider joining them in line.

He’s just returned from the hunt. Does draki blood, purple and iridescent, stain his hands?

Does he, like a bloodhound, have a nose for prey? For draki? For me? That would explain the avid way he watches me.

The warning bell rings its ear-bleeding screech. I’ve grown accustomed to the sound.

Hardly jerk where I sit. Bleakness swirls through me. I blink once, hard, squeezing my eyes tight. I don’t want to get used to any of this.

“Hey, Jacinda. Want to go to the library with me and Mike?” Nathan pauses near my table, an easy grin on his boyish, rounded features.

“Thanks, but no. I’m going to study here with Catherine.”

Shrugging, Nathan and his friend step into the pass line, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have joined them. If I still should.

Then my thoughts of escape grind to a stop. That much-missed vibration ignites in my chest, spreads to my core. My skin snaps alive. My head turns, eyes searching, honing in on Will as he walks into the room.

Everything about him is brighter than I remember.

The gold streaks in his brown hair. The gleam of his hazel eyes. His height. The breadth of his shoulders. He makes every other boy look small. Young and silly.

Suddenly, the days without a glimpse of him feel like forever. I have waited too long for this moment. To see him again. For my lungs to tighten. For my heart to pound and swell against my rib cage.

To feel my draki stir.

His gaze lands on me, the hazel eyes bright and hungry in a way that makes my skin flare hotly. But his eyes aren’t the only ones I feel. Behind me, Xander’s stare sinks deep.

Will approaches my table, and I forget about everyone else. I forget that I’m supposed to stay away from him. This near to Will, I even forget whatever vague fear Xander feeds in me. I only want Will to stop, to say something, work his magic on my withering soul. I need that. He’s almost to my table now. My lungs expand, smolder. Steam wells up in my throat. It feels wonderful. It feels like life.

My tightening skin heats, flashes a brief shimmer of red-gold. I clasp my arm, my fingers tight and hurtful. As if the press of my hand can stop me from manifesting in a room full of humans.

He’s so close now I can see the shards of green, gold, and brown in his eyes. One more stride and he’s even with my table.

I hold my hot breath. Search him for some sign…

He looks away from me then, over my head to where his cousins sit. Something passes over his face, a ripple that washes clean the rapt intensity. With a bored expression, he walks past me where I tremble on my stool.

His cold rejection steals my breath. The heat leaves me in a slow sizzle of air out my nose. The blaze in my lungs dies, fades to embers.

Nothing. Not a word?

I think of the last time I saw him—his warm attention. I think of the note he left me. It doesn’t make sense. My hands shake. I press them together, squeeze them tightly. I shouldn’t feel so shattered. I’d decided to avoid him after all. To end it before it ever really began.

The bell rings just as Catherine slides in next to me, those bright eyes of hers luminous beneath the room’s harsh fluorescent glare.

“Hey,” she says, breathless from her long hike from the art building. “What’s up?” She glances over her shoulder and continues mildly, “I see that they’re back. Oh…and here he comes.”

I watch from the corner of my eye as Will passes our table, subtly dropping a note next to Catherine’s elbow.

Her lips twist into a smile. “I’m guessing that’s for you.”

I glare at the paper, resist seizing it. “I don’t want it. Tear it up.”

She looks at me in surprise. “Are you serious?”

I snatch up the note, tear it into small pieces as Will collects his pass from Mr. Henke.

When he turns to leave the room, our eyes meet for the barest moment. His gaze slides over the tiny pile of shredded paper. A shutter falls over his eyes, like clouds descending on a forest, and my chest tightens.

“Oookay.” Catherine looks from the torn pile of paper to me. “That was dramatic. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Unable to speak, I shake my head, crack open my chemistry book, and stare blindly at the page, telling myself that I’m glad he ignored me. I needed this to remember the vow I made to myself to stay away from him. I’m even glad I ripped up his note. Glad he saw the shredded little pile.

Tonight. Now more than ever, I have to fly, have to give it another try. I have only myself to rely on, and I’m enough. I have to believe that. It’s always been true before.

Later that night, I slide out from beneath the covers and locate my shoes at the foot of the bed. I was careful to mark where I left them, not wanting to fumble in the dark and risk waking Tamra.

This late, the room is dark. No outside light slips through the blinds. Tamra’s side of the room is tomb black. Hopefully, the night outside is just as dark. With clouds. Clouds and dark night. The perfect cover.

Hooking my fingers inside the heels of my shoes, I ease out of the bedroom, wincing when the floor creaks beneath my weight. I hold my breath and speed tiptoe through the house, not even exhaling until I’m safely outside.

Mrs. Hennessey’s lights are off—luckily her yappy little dog doesn’t break into barking at the gate’s soft clink.

At the street, I squat on the curb and slip my socks and shoes on, looking to the sky as I tie my laces. Full moon and cloudless. Unfortunate, that. But not enough for me to change my mind.

On my feet, I set out, walking toward the golf course I’d visited before, telling myself that tonight would be different. I’d manifest easily, lift high, swim on the air like I used to do…like I’m born to do. I cover the five miles in good time. The course lifts up like a shock of green undulating sea ahead, an abrupt change from the desert and rock everywhere else.

With a stealthy look around, I cross into a world of pulsing, verdant green. The closest thing I’ve seen to vegetation since I left the mountains. Except for the heat, the dryness that makes my hair crackle and skin itch, I could almost pretend that the desert has vanished.

Slipping off my shoes and socks, I step onto the green, enjoying the cushion of grass under my feet. I pass a sand trap. A strategically placed set of boulders. Ahead, a pond shines like glass. My pace lengthens as I stride to a small copse of trees. I shed my clothes, and dry heat hugs my body.

Sighing, I lift my face and inhale the thin, baked air, bringing it inside me, letting it fill my lungs. I stretch out my arms, willing the manifest….