Death Before Daylight

by Shannon A. Thompson

  Crystal’s hip cocked to the side. “I want to be supportive, I do,” she continued, “but I think you’re making a mistake. It’s too soon. Way too soon.”

  Any explanation I gave wouldn’t be enough. “It’s not like we’re planning a wedding.” In fact, we hadn’t even discussed it. We were too focused on defeating Darthon. A wedding would have to wait. A future would, too. But the others didn’t see that. They only saw two teenagers, blindly embracing one another in the hallways.

  “Planning one or not, it’s too soon,” Crystal repeated. Even though she lost her memory, she hadn’t lost her ability to be honest. “I’ll give him a chance,” she added, but her voice rose. “Only because of you.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, but Crystal wasn’t listening anymore.

  Her eyes fixed behind me, and she propped herself up on her tiptoes as she waved. “Zac! Hey, we’re over here.”

  His name sent chills down my spine, but I looked his way. The black-haired boy strode across the parking lot, raising one palm to signal he had seen her wave. Among even the slickest cars, he shone. His pressed clothes didn’t look like a student’s wardrobe. In his black jacket and slacks, he could’ve been a teacher.

  “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Crystal whispered out of the side of her mouth.

  I only stared, wondering how she didn’t recall how she obsessed over him. She probably didn’t even know he had kissed her in my driveway before—once, while looking at me.

  “Hey.” His gaze lowered to Crystal. “Shouldn’t you head to the newspaper room?”

  She blinked. “Why?”

  “The desk lady quit,” he said it like she should know.

  “What?” we both screeched, but he nodded as if we had whispered it.

  “What do you mean she quit?” Crystal asked.

  “I don’t know.” Zac shrugged. “She walked out yesterday.”

  “I have to go,” Crystal said, already jogging toward the school. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  I started to follow her, but Zac grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my bicep, and I whipped around to face his grin.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “I thought we could talk.”

  I pulled away. “I’m busy.”

  His grin slipped off his face, but his teeth remained visible, perfectly white. “You remember?”

  My heart slammed into my rib cage. “What do you mean?”

  “Crystal’s acting like she doesn’t know me, and Robb—” He paused. “Well, we know about Robb.” His hand ran through his hair, but every strand fell back in place. “I thought everyone was playing a prank on me, but you—you’re not. You remember me, right?” His rushed voice was as desperate as his widened eyes. It was an expression I hadn’t seen on his face before.

  I stepped back and almost tripped over myself. If he remembered, the Light hadn’t touched him, but they should’ve if they were targeting my friends. I remembered what Luthicer said. If the Light was trying to trick me, they were doing a good job at it. I was as confused as Zac was.

  He stepped toward me. “Jess?”

  “Why do you think I remember?”

  His cheek cocked up into a smile. “Because you hate me.” He pointed over my shoulder. “And so does he.”

  I looked over my shoulder as Eric appeared, walking faster than normal. A scowl consumed his face. His headphones were strung over his shoulders, but he didn’t grab them as he got close enough to speak, “Hey.” His hardened tone was louder than it should’ve been.

  “Morning, Welborn.” Zac folded his arms. “I guess we’re classmates now.”

  Eric’s hand landed on my shoulder. “I guess so.”

  “We’re just talking,” I muttered.

  Zac chuckled over me. “We’re talking about how everyone’s lost their minds.” He didn’t even try to hide it. “Except for you two. You two seem fine.”

  Eric’s fingers dug into my shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure, you don’t,” Zac sang, his voice dropping and rising like a tempting string of notes. “I don’t care if you want to admit to it or not,” he continued, “I know something is up with you two, and I’ll figure it out.”

  Right when I thought he would shift into Darthon himself, he spoke like a human would. He spoke like he didn’t know about the Light or the Dark. He spoke like he hadn’t heard of the descendants or the war. He seemed oblivious, and I didn’t believe a second of it.

  Eric’s grip didn’t loosen. “You might need to get your head checked.” He didn’t believe it either. “You’re starting to sound a little insane.”

  “Whatever,” Zac responded as he walked away, throwing his hand over his shoulder in a half-wave. “Congrats on the engagement,” he called back at us. “I expect an invitation.”

  I shot forward to hit him, but Eric grabbed my arm. “Don’t.”

  “He knows something, Eric,” I said beneath my breath. “He’s not like the others. He’s—”

  “If he were Darthon, he would’ve done something,” Eric said, but his words were quiet. “Wouldn’t he?”

  My attention diverted to Zac. I tried to match his walk with Darthon’s, but everyone was different as a human. Other than their attitudes, I couldn’t see a correlation. I couldn’t see a correlation in anyone.

  My hand curled into a fist. “I don’t know,” I grumbled, “but there’s something not right about that guy.”

  “I don’t like him either,” Eric agreed, “but that doesn’t give us the right to kill him.”

  “I don’t like him.” I said it like it did give me the right. “I don’t like him at all.”

  Zac’s black hair bobbed against the snowy backdrop of our school like an outlined target. If I could transform, I could hit Zac from where he stood yards away, but I couldn’t. In daylight, I was a human.

  “We can’t hurt him if we don’t know,” Eric reminded me of the Dark and all of their rules. Rules we didn’t normally follow. In this case, Zac’s death would be useless if he were innocent. It would probably make Darthon laugh.

  “As much as I hate to defend the guy, he could be innocent,” Eric said, but he sounded far away.

  “Maybe the Light isn’t only trying to confuse me,” I managed.

  Eric leaned back to catch my eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  It was the way Eric defended Zac, a guy he had hated from the start. It was the fact that the Light hadn’t attacked yet. It was the sudden change in Eric’s demeanor, how he was suddenly willing to follow the rules of the Dark, but it was the reason Eric was holding back that stopped me the most. The Light could absorb me, and if they were waiting for that, they needed Eric to remember the possibility. After all, it was that reason Eric was holding back. It was what stopped him from believing Zac could be Darthon. He was being too careful. He was too willing for the Light to make the first move, out of fear that our first move would hurt me.

  I swallowed my nerves. “Maybe the Light is trying to confuse you, too,” I expressed my thoughts. “Maybe they want both of us.”

  7

  Eric

  The flying target shattered into pieces and dissipated before hitting the floor. After school ended, I had rushed to the training room. I didn’t want to linger in the parking lot only to run into Zac or Robb or anyone associated with Jessica. The morning had been anything but comforting, and the afternoon wasn’t any better. Jessica and I had barely spoken in class, and it took everything in me to ignore Zac at the back of the room. Even then, I could feel his eyes on my back. Maybe Jessica was right. Maybe she wasn’t. Either way, I couldn’t guess, but the paranoia consumed me. The single bit of relief I had rested on Linda, of all people. She was in a different class and lunch period. At least, I didn’t have to deal with her. Now, my relief came through training.

  Even though I had been training for two hours, I didn’t feel tired. My adrenaline grew as if my energy was preparing for a battle I couldn’t sense yet. I was supposed t
o be at Jessica’s house for dinner in thirty minutes, yet my concentration struggled. I was too focused on Darthon—on who he might be and how I would defeat him.

  Another target flew into the air, and I shot at it, only for the training room to buzz. The blue cloud of my Dark powers shook as the room spun into the rocky walls it truly had. The training session was over, but not by my choice. Someone was coming in.

  When the door creaked open, I didn’t bother looking. “About time, Urte.” I hadn’t received instruction for days.

  “Not Urte,” a boy’s voice spoke up.

  I spun around to face Pierce as he shut the door behind him. He leaned over, picked one of the water bottles off the floor, and tossed it to me. I caught it, opened it, and took a drink before I spoke again. “What’s up?” I asked. “You don’t come here often.” Aside from the day before, his appearances were becoming a rarity.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t had time to.”

  “Guard duties?”

  Pierce slumped. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about.”

  “You sound like a girlfriend.”

  A smirk appeared on his face. For a brief moment, he looked like the guy I had grown up with—ready to laugh at a reckless plan we had concocted—but his carefree demeanor disappeared when he folded his arms. “There’s really no other way to say this except bluntly.” As he spoke, my chest tightened. “I know you don’t like how Jess and I have been acting.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I responded too fast. Even I heard how convoluted my voice had become. No one would believe I told the truth, but I didn’t correct myself, even though the images flew through my head—the way she touched him, the way he responded so casually. Even if I didn’t want to admit it, it bothered me. It drove me mad.

  Pierce chuckled like I had confessed telepathically. “I’ve known you my entire life, Shoman.” He didn’t use my human name, even though everyone else had since it had been revealed. “I wouldn’t like it either.”

  “Then, why do it?” The question fell out of me.

  He straightened. “You remember Camille.” Her name sounded far away, like a whisper over the rush of a river. “You remember how easy it was to lean on her, to talk to her, to watch her paint her toes—”

  “What’s the point?” I snapped as my guard’s life flashed in front of me, only as a memory.

  Pierce’s expression dropped. “You know how it is between a guard and a warrior. It’s a tie, a connection,” he explained everything I knew. “You know how a warrior feels, but you don’t know how a guard feels.”

  I stretched my arm over my head, counting out each breath as I measured the stretch. I didn’t speak, but I was listening.

  “It feels different,” he said, but the explanation twisted through my veins. “I’m not even used to it.”

  I dropped my arm. “Do you like her, Jonathon?”

  His jaw hung open before he collected himself, snapping his mouth shut only to open it again. “Not like that,” he said. “Not at all like that,” he promised. “That’s what I came here to clarify.”

  I tried to fight the smile that took over my face, but I couldn’t. I even chuckled. “Okay, man,” I managed. “Thanks.”

  “Glad that’s over with,” he mirrored my laugh. “Want to go for a flight?”

  “I can’t.” I was already picking up my things. “I have dinner, remember?”

  Pierce’s face twisted as he recalled yesterday’s conversation. “Is that today?” He stared at the wall like a calendar hung on it. “Any chance you two can reschedule?”

  “Why?”

  “There’s a new breed of shades coming out.” He didn’t pause long enough for his words to sink in. “A half-breed’s daughter developed powers. Urte’s been working with her all day, and I would have to bet she’s not the only one.”

  “Wait,” I interrupted. “What? A half-breed’s kid doesn’t have powers.”

  “That’s the problem,” Pierce agreed. “She does, and we don’t know why, especially since ours are dwindling.”

  Jessica and I had yet to tell him the truth about our powers. Ours were stronger. I wanted to tell him right then and there, but Jessica wanted to tell him, too. I would have to wait.

  “When did you hear this?” I asked.

  “This morning,” Pierce said it like it was an apology. “I’ve been trying to meet the girl myself, but Urte won’t have it.”

  “Well, that explains where he’s been,” I muttered. “What’s the plan?”

  His grin was too wide for his angular face, a piece of Jonathon poking out from under his shade form. “I found a way to send her a message,” he said. “She’s meeting us at the river.”

  My adrenaline returned. “When?”

  Pierce looked at his wrist as if he had a watch on it, but his wrist was bare. “Well, let’s see,” he drew out his words. “Tonight,” he said. “She’ll be at the river at midnight.”

  8

  Jessica

  “I don’t like it, Jessie,” my mother spoke up first. For once, she had curled her hair and worn something other than sweatpants. Still, she looked like she was asleep somewhere else in the house. “I’ve never even heard you mention going on a date before now.”

  “It does seem soon,” my dad added, his voice deeper than usual. Unlike my mother, he looked focused, ready to meet the boy who gave me a ring.

  “Just give him a chance.” I glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. “He’ll be here soon.” And I wanted to prevent him eavesdropping on their disapproval.

  “Of course we’ll give him a chance, Jessie.” My mother said my name in every sentence she spoke. “It’s just—worrisome. It’s a lot.”

  “And that ring is too much,” my father agreed.

  “It’s not an engagement,” I tried to convince them, but I felt like I was also trying to convince myself. “It’s a promise ring.” It was the only excuse I could come up with, the one I thought would settle their nerves. I was failing.

  “That’s a mighty expensive promise,” my dad muttered.

  “It looks like an engagement ring,” my mother added.

  “It was my mother’s.”

  His voice broke through the conversation before I even sensed him entering the room.

  Eric stood in the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a nice shirt. He almost looked like he had on prom night. I could practically see him beneath the willow tree, pushing the branches away as his eyes met mine. The only difference was, this time, he held a bouquet of flowers.

  “Sorry for letting myself in.” With his free hand, he pointed over his shoulder. “I rang the doorbell and knocked, but no one answered.” He stepped forward and held the bouquet out toward my mother. “These are for you.”

  Her cheeks burned red as she grabbed them. “Oh, um. These are lovely.” She didn’t even bother hiding her glance at my father.

  His eyebrows rose to his receding hairline, and he rubbed his forehead like he could erase his previous expression. “I’ve been meaning to fix that doorbell,” he excused, stepping forward to shake Eric’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, sir,” Eric responded as they shook hands. Afterward, Eric glanced over at me. “You look nice.”

  My stomach twisted. “Thanks,” I managed. “You, too.”

  His shoulders rose as if he had taken his first breath since arriving, but he didn’t speak. The silence in the room was drowning us.

  “I’m going to get water for these,” my mother spoke up, walking to the sink. In seconds, she had a vase filled and the flowers placed inside. “They’ll make for a great centerpiece.” Once they were placed on the table, she waved at the seats, and Eric took the cue.

  He crossed the kitchen and sat down. I sat next to him, and my parents sat on opposite ends. For once, our four-person dining table was full, and we were eating dinner together. Tonight we were having pot roast and salad. Normally, we had what
ever pizza my dad picked up on his way home from work.

  “So, Eric,” my dad started as he filled his plate with food. “Tell us about yourself.”

  Eric hadn’t moved since sitting down. He hadn’t even looked at me. He just smiled at my parents. “I like music and running, but I want to travel when I’m older,” he explained, taking a moment to place salad on his plate. “I think the world has a lot to offer, but I haven’t had many opportunities to see it yet. Jessica’s told me how you all have moved around a lot. That must have been exciting.”

  My mother stared, but my father wasn’t fazed. “Are you planning on going to college after graduation?”

  Graduation. College. I had forgotten. Everything else had consumed me, but Eric nodded. “I’m not sure where yet, though.”

  “It’s getting close, you know,” my dad said. “Jessie filled out a few applications yesterday.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said.

  My father’s eyes landed on me. “I put some in your bedroom.”

  “I’ll get around to it,” I mumbled.

  “She’s a great artist.” Eric’s voice rushed with excitement. “Have you seen her paintings?”

  My hand curled beneath the table. I hadn’t shown my parents anything.

  “An artist?” my mother asked. I could feel her eyes on me. “I didn’t know you painted.”

  “In school,” I clarified, hoping Eric would get the hint.

  When Eric looked at me, he tilted his head to the side. “They’re good.” He didn’t get the hint. “She would do really well in an art school.”

  “An art school?” my dad repeated.

  I hit Eric’s knee under the table. “Don’t,” I said telepathically. “I haven’t told them yet.”