Read Online Vanish by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online Page B

making the poultices and medicines that have kept our kind in good shape for generations. I don’t see them reassigning her just out of spite. Doing so would be a disservice to the pride.
    “Reorganized the meds,” she volunteers, her voice a numbing monotone. “I don’t think anyone’s done that since I left.”
    I nod slowly, gathering my nerve to confess: “I was reassigned.” Hopefully my voice sounds as unaffected as hers. I have to tell her. She’d find out eventually. If not from me, then someone else.
    I wait for the raised eyebrow, the sharp tone that will demand why they did that. Basically, I wait for the protective, vigilant mother she’s always been.
    Instead her voice sounds hollow. “You’re not in the library anymore?”
    “No.” I take a bite and chew quickly, dreading the next words. “I’m with the gutting crew.”
    She looks up. “The gutting crew?”
    “Yeah.” I tear at the verdaberry bread until it’s only crumbs. “They needed some extra hands.”
    “And who reassigned you to the gutting crew?” she asks quietly.
    I give half a shrug, certain this is when she will lose her cool. “Jabel gave me the assignment.”
    Nothing.
    Mom’s quiet for a long moment, staring down at her plate before pushing up from the table and taking her dishes into the kitchen. I cringe as she drops them in the sink with a clatter. Still, I wait. Ready for her to say something, do something. March across the street and light into Jabel, her old friend. I can almost imagine the shouting, hear my mom demanding why her daughter was given such a lowly duty reserved for those training to be part of the pride’s hunting crew.
    That would be familiar. That would be typical.
    Nothing. I strain for a sound and detect the uncorking of a bottle, the faint slosh of wine into a glass.
    After a moment, she reemerges, stops at the table with a glass in hand, the deep green liquid dangerously close to the edge. She stares at me over the rim as she pulls a deep swallow of verda wine.
    “Everything will be okay,” I say because I don’t know what to say to her. She’s not acting like Mom at all. “I screwed up and they have to punish me. It will all blow over.”
    She takes a slow sip, her eyes dull. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” She disappears back into the kitchen again. When she returns it’s with a full bottle of verda wine tucked between her arm and body. My gaze trails her as she walks down the hallway to her bedroom. The door clicks shut after her. A moment passes and I hear the low drone of the television from her room.
    I sit at the table for a moment and glance around. At three empty chairs. I quickly stand, unable to sit there another moment.
    Gathering the dishes, I take them to the sink. The silence in the kitchen is thick, Mom’s television a distant hum. As I wash, my stare drifts up to the kitchen window and I bite back a gasp. A bowl slips from my hand, bounces off the edge of the sink, and shatters on the floor. Still, I don’t move, don’t even look to investigate the searing pain at the side of my foot.
    My gaze fixes unblinking at the far side of Mom’s withered-dead garden. A shape stands in the gloom. The eyes watching me seem to glow, to cut through the evening mist to my house. To me.
    The mist swirls, drifts like smoke from a peat fire around him. It parts to reveal a face—Corbin’s curling smile. He looks smug, pleased with himself as he stands there brazenly.
    My skin snaps, lungs contract and swell, vibrating with warmth as my gaze narrows, reading perfectly into that smile.
    He thinks I’m his for the taking. Tamra and Cassian have each other, and I’m out of favor with the pride—what else should I do but embrace the one draki who looks at me? Who wants me? Right? Wrong .
    Smolder builds in my chest. He probably thinks I’ll fall to my knees before him, grateful for whatever crumb he casts my way, salvation in this new friendless, lightless existence among my own