Let the Sky Fall (16 page)

Fifty seconds.

A minute.

“Come on, Vane—you can do this!” I shout over the gusts.

Sixteen more seconds pass. Then the winds unravel, fleeing to freedom.

He had the breakthrough.

His body collapses on the bed of palm leaves, and I call his name over and over. He doesn’t stir, but I take his hands the way I did when he was fighting the Northerlies, ignoring the guilt searing my skin as I do.

His eyes remain closed. He doesn’t so much as twitch.

“Breathe, Vane,” I order, squeezing his hands harder. “You promised.”

No reaction.

I shake his arms, trying to rock him awake.
“Breathe!”

Nothing. Even when I pound on his chest with my fists.

My heart jumps into my throat as I watch his lips tinge with blue. I have to do something—anything.

I’ve seen groundlings blow air into each other’s mouths, trying to jump-start the lungs. But I can’t risk forming a bond to Vane. And that might not even work. His lungs aren’t the problem. It’s his mind whisking away, following the alluring call of the winds. Wandering too far from his rightful place.

The blue spreads from his lips, painting his face with a gray pallor.

I grab his shoulders and shake as hard as I can. His head lolls and falls limp.

I can’t just sit here and watch him suffocate. Even if his lungs aren’t the problem—putting air into his body has to help.

I refuse to let myself think about what I’m doing as I lift his chin with shaky hands.

“It’s not a kiss,” I whisper, saying it out loud to stand as testimony. “This is a lifesaving measure. Not a kiss. No bond will form.”

No bond. No bond. No bond.

I will not bond myself to Vane Weston.

No. Bond.

I take a trembling breath—barely able to believe what I’m about to do as I place one hand on each of his cheeks.

“Vane!” I yell. “Vane, wake up.”

Nothing.

Tears burn my eyes as I stare at his blue-gray lips.

Now or never, Audra.

I lean closer, whispering in his ear. “Please don’t leave me, Vane.”

I didn’t plan to say that—but I don’t have time to analyze my word choice. I suck in a huge gulp of air, holding it in my lungs as I part his lips with trembling hands and lean in.

No-bond-no-bond-no-bond-no-bond.

Before I make contact, Vane’s body thrashes with a hacking cough. His forehead crashes against my chin, knocking me backward as he rolls to his side, gasping for breath.

I rub my smarting jaw with one hand and wrap my other arm around myself, trying to calm my shaking. I can’t make sense of any
of the emotions washing over me. All I know is: Vane’s alive.

He wheezes and struggles for a minute before he catches his breath. I sit to the side, feeling too much like I’ve had the world yanked out from under me then shoved back into place to do anything except watch.

I want to tell him how much he scared me. How close he came to leaving me behind—to leaving everyone and everything behind.

How much I’d been ready to risk to save him.

But he doesn’t need to know any of that.

When his color returns and his coughing calms, he sits up, smooths his hair, and meets my eyes. “Told you I’d come back for you.”

CHAPTER 23

VANE

M
y legs move like two soggy noodles as Audra drags me through the grove toward my house. I’ve been tired before. Been beaten up before. Shoot, I survived a tornado—and even though I don’t remember what happened, I remember every ache and pain in the days that followed. But I’ve never experienced anything like this.

I feel empty. Like everything that makes me
me
oozed out my ears, leaving just a shell of Vane.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the pull of the Southerlies. It felt like I was a kid again and my mom was promising everything would be all right if I just did what she said. Her voice sounded different, higher and softer than usual, but the words still coiled around
my mind and heart—and the more I tried to shove them away, the harder they latched on.

I was a goner.

Until Audra’s desperate voice whispered through the wind, begging me not to leave.

I wouldn’t leave her.

In that determination, I found the strength to break free, my head spinning and my body screaming with a thousand different pains as I forced myself back to reality.

But I swear the wind took part of me with it. It definitely stole my warmth. I can’t stop shivering—even though I’m sure it has to be at least a hundred degrees. The noodle legs aren’t cool either. And my head feels like the soccer team used it for practice.

The worst part is the hollowness. I know what Audra meant by “caught between two worlds” now. The wind made parts of me feel freer, fuller, happier than I’ve ever been. Without them I feel lost and empty. I’m glad to be back, though. The sky may call to me, but I want my feet firmly on the ground. Preferably without the Jell-O legs.

Speaking of which—
how
am I going to explain my current condition to my parents? Knowing my mom, she’ll probably worry I’m drunk or high or both. She watches too many news reports on troubled teens.

And it looks like they’ll get to meet Audra, because unless I slither into the house, there’s no way I’m walking in there on my own. Audra’s basically carrying all my weight right now—which is pretty impressive, considering how slender she is.

The sun-bleached walls of my house come into view, and my
stomach tightens. Audra tenses too, so I have a feeling she’s thinking the same thing I am:
What the hell are we going to do now?

She slows to a stop at the edge of the tree line. “I need you to lean on a palm for a second,” she says, already wrapping my arm around a rough trunk. I shift my weight, leaning at an awkward angle, but I manage to stay upright as Audra starts unbuttoning her jacket.

Man, I hope whatever she has under there is thin and lacy.

When she undoes the last of the shiny gold buttons—her jacket reminds me of something an eighties pop star would wear—she slips the heavy coat off her shoulders, revealing a plain black tank and a whole lot of creamy skin. Not the sexy bra I’d been hoping for, but at least it’s tight and cut low. A blue necklace with a silver feather hangs just below the lines of her collarbone, drawing my eyes right where they probably shouldn’t go.

She tosses the jacket in the general direction of her house. “Hopefully this looks close enough to a workout outfit to fool your parents. We’ll tell them we were training and you ran too hard and got leg cramps. That should sufficiently explain your condition.”

I can’t think of anything better, and I’m getting pretty tired from holding myself up, so I let her wrap my arm back around her shoulders. A million lightning bolts zing as my skin meets hers. My shivering vanishes. Without her thick uniform-coat thing, her touch is a thousand times more electric. Not to mention how smooth and soft her bare skin feels against mine.

Note to self: Steal and destroy her jacket as soon as possible.

I try not to trip as we start moving again, but my useless legs refuse to cooperate, and I nearly knock us over. She shifts her weight
in front of me and pulls me back to my feet. Leaving us face to face, her body pressed so tightly against mine I can feel her heartbeat through her thin shirt.

I swear the air around us is seconds away from catching fire.

Audra shuffles me back to her side. “Once we get inside, I’ll lay you down in your room and see myself out. Try not to get up. Eat something. Eat a lot, actually. Your body could use a few more ties to the earth. And stay away from the wind. Close your window tight—turn off your fan. You’re too vulnerable right now.”

“Vulnerable how? Like . . . I could get swept away again if I stand too close to an AC vent?”

“Probably not. But I’m trying to be cautious. I’ve never heard of anyone being as tempted by the wind as you were. Maybe it’s a Westerly thing. Or maybe you’ve been so wind-deprived these last ten years your body doesn’t know how to handle it. Either way, you need to stay grounded, so it’s safer to stay away from temptation.”

The only temptation I’m feeling is to run my hands along the sliver of midriff peeking from the bottom of her tank top. Now,
that
would motivate me to stay grounded.

I’m ready to tell her that, but we’ve reached my house’s ugly blue front door.

“Should I . . . knock?” Audra asks.

I’ve never heard her voice crack before. “Nervous to meet the parents?”

“I just haven’t had a lot of contact with groundlings.”

“You realize they’re going to think you’re my girlfriend, right?”

She pales. “Whatever it takes to protect the truth.”

Does she have to sound like having me for a boyfriend is some exhausting assignment she wants to get rid of?

“It should be unlocked,” I tell her.

She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and pulls the door open.

“I’m home,” I call, loud enough to be heard over the TV. “And don’t freak out—but I kinda wore out my legs, so I needed help inside.”

Before I even finish my sentence, my mom shrieks, “What?” and both her and my dad stampede down the hall. So much for not freaking out. They stop dead when they spot Audra.

Audra turns rigid and stares at the ground.

The awkwardness would be awesome if I weren’t suddenly overwhelmed by nerves of my own.

“What happened?” my dad asks, gesturing to my rather pathetic, slumped position.

“I got shin splints pretty bad, so Audra had to help me in. I must have pushed myself too hard while we ran.”

My dad laughs—one of those huge belly laughs you’d expect to come from some six-foot-five guy with a beer gut, not a five-foot-nine skinny guy who wears preppy golf shirts every day. “That’s what you get for showing off.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

My mom snaps out of her Audra-staring stupor. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve really been introduced. I’m Carrie.”

She extends a hand for Audra to shake. Audra trips over my feet as she moves to take it.

“We should probably let him lie down,” she says when she recovers. Her cheeks are bright pink. “Which way to his room?”

I have to give her credit. Acting like she doesn’t know exactly which room is mine is a nice touch.

“Oh, um, I don’t know—Jack, maybe you should take him,” my mom says, biting her lip like she’s worried we might feel the uncontrollable urge to rip each other’s clothes off the second we get near a bed.

My dad laughs, runs a hand over the shiny part of his head—he proudly rocks the cul-de-sac of hair curving around his bald spot—and says, “Relax, Carrie.” He points down the hall. “It’s that way.”

“Thank you.” Audra flashes her half smile and drags me away.

“It’s the door on the left,” my mom adds, hot on our heels, determined to play chaperone every step of the way.

“I can lead her to my own bedroom,” I mutter.

Audra ignores us, kicking my half-closed door open and leading me to the unmade bed. She plops me down—not as gently as I’d like—and helps me lift my legs up, all while my mom “supervises” from the doorway.

Sheesh, one hot girl walks into the house and all trust vanishes.

“You okay?” Audra asks as I attempt to scoot into a more comfortable position. Mostly I just flail.

“Yeah.”

I want to say more, but my dad’s joined my mom at my bedroom door, and while he doesn’t have her look of nervous terror, he looks like when he’s watching the Discovery Channel.

Aren’t the mating habits of teenagers fascinating, honey?

I sigh.

“So, tell me again how this happened,” my mom says, adding to the awkwardness.

Her tone’s light—but I know she’s really saying, “I don’t believe your story. Let me pick holes in it.”

Audra answers before I can send her any sort of warning about the dangerous ground we’re on. “I’m teaching Vane to run faster. But I guess I pushed him too hard in the heat, because his legs cramped and he passed out.”

I think that sounds reasonable enough. It doesn’t satisfy my mom, though.

“Are you on the cross-country team?” She smiles when Audra nods. “Me too—when I was your age. What’s your best event?”

Uh-oh.

I try to think of something so I can jump in and answer for Audra, but for the life of me I can’t think of a single track event. Aren’t they all just . . . running?

But Audra doesn’t even blink as she says, “I’m equally good at them all.”

“She is,” I say. “She’s amazing.”

That comes out a bit gooier than I mean it to, and my cheeks burn. My whole head practically bursts into flames when I notice my parents. My mom’s grinning her
my little boy is growing up
smile and my dad looks like he wants to pat me on the back and call me “slugger.”

Parents: perfecting ways to humiliate their children since the dawn of time.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” my mom whispers, her voice thick.

If she starts crying, I’m going to smother myself with my pillow.

Audra steps forward, offering a sturdy hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Vane talks about you guys all the time.”

My parents beam and I can’t help grinning. She sure knows how to charm the parental units.

“I wish I could say the same,” my mom says, shooting me a glare. “He told us he had a date, but you’re the first girl he’s brought home. He must really like you.”

“Mom,” I complain, ready to bean her with my pillow. Or maybe the bedside lamp. Especially when Audra blushes bright red.

“Well,” my dad jumps in, “thank you for bringing him home. And thank you for getting him outside. The only exercise Vane gets these days is with his thumbs on those video game controllers.”

“Dad,” I whine.

“I have no doubt you’ll whip him into shape in no time,” he adds, ignoring me.

“I certainly hope so,” Audra says quietly.

I’m sure my parents don’t catch the way her shoulders slump, or the hint of doubt that snuck into her tone. My eyes dart to the window. Watching for the storm.