After the End(44)

And the next second his hand is behind my head and he’s eased me down on top of him and we’re kissing . . . kissing like crazy. My whole body’s buzzing, and all I want is to keep pressing my chest against his and lacing my legs through his and winding my fingers through his beautiful curly hair and feeling his lips brush mine for the rest of the night. But I can’t. I can’t do this. I have to . . .

“Stop,” I say, and push myself up onto my hands and knees, perching above him. Miles reaches up for me, yearning written all over his face, but I shake my head. “No,” I say, and pivot so that I’m sitting next to him in the tent.

His expression is a mixture of regret, confusion, and disappointment.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I say.

“No, that’s totally okay,” he says, raising his hands to his forehead and squeezing his eyes closed. We’re both breathing heavily, and my heart is hammering a million miles an hour. I scramble to the mouth of the tent, push through the flap, and then peer in at him once I’m safely out.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

I nod and zip the tent flap up behind me, shutting him in from the night.

I walk over to the fire and flop down in front of it. This is too much. Too much at once. I run my tongue over my burning lips and think of Miles’s mouth on mine, and my body flares with heat.

Miles wasn’t my first kiss. But kissing Kenai was different. He was a friend, and Nome and I had talked him into trying it out. It’s not like we had a large selection of potential kissing partners in our clan. Besides, Kenai was the only boy I could kiss without it meaning anything. It was kind of nice, in a friendly, warm-hug kind of way. But it was nothing like the searing heat of kissing Miles.

Stop thinking about it, I urge myself. I have to stay in control. Miles is nothing more to me than a means to an end. I can’t get attached to him. I ready myself for what I’m about to do.

I cast all thoughts of Miles and his soft mouth and his strong arms out of my mind. There’s no way I can slow my heart rate if I let myself remember the kiss. I think of what I need to ask. This might be my last chance.

If we are being chased, every moment is precious. I need better instructions to find my clan than a general direction of southeast and a desert setting. And I need to know not only how to elude Whit, but if he manages to catch me, how I can fight him. And win.

I unzip the tent flap and look at Miles’s motionless form. The special tea I made has done its work. He is deep asleep and will not awake. I almost falter—this is strictly forbidden. No one would consider Reading another human being without their agreement. I remind myself I am doing this for the good of my clan. For the protection of my people.

I duck down into the tent and sit cross-legged by Miles’s side, taking his hand in mine and cupping my opal in the other. He doesn’t stir and keeps breathing deeply. My heartbeat slows to match his. I do still believe that the Yara exists, I think, summoning all my positive thoughts and funneling them into our joined hands. I shudder as we connect to the Yara. Miles’s eyelids fly open. They are unseeing and stare hollowly at the tent above.

“Miles,” I say. “You are my oracle.”

His head moves slightly as he nods, a thick wave of hair tumbling off his forehead. “Yes, Juneau. I am your oracle.”



UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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34


MILES




“HOLY CRAP, I FEEL LIKE I SLEPT ON A PILE OF rocks,” I say, crawling out of the tent and pressing my thumbs hard against my temples as the sunlight burns my eyes.

“Breakfast,” says Juneau, and shakes a box of Cap’n Crunch at me from where she sits next to the impeccably clean fire pit. I glance around the clearing. Everything’s been packed up, and the trunk of the car is open with our supplies stowed neatly inside.

“Does this mean we’re leaving?”

“Yep,” she confirms, and hand-feeds a piece of cereal to the bird, who stands obediently next to her like the freeloading fleabag he is.

I sit a few feet away and pour myself a mug of orange juice and take a sip. I glance at Juneau, and she looks away. There’s an elephant in the campsite, and it’s called last night’s kiss. But if Juneau’s not going to say anything about it, I’m certainly not going to bring it up. I can’t help looking at her lips, berry red though she’s not wearing any makeup, and I feel a hunger that has nothing to do with my empty stomach.

“No more sleeping on the ground,” I moan, setting my mug down and massaging my forehead. “I don’t care if you insist on being out in nature, we’re staying in a hotel tonight.”