Death Before Daylight

by Shannon A. Thompson

  “Why’d you hit him anyway?” I couldn’t prevent my next words, not when I thought about Camille. I had barely known her, but she gave her life up for mine. In that sense, she didn’t feel like a stranger at all.

  Jonathon looked away from me as if I were a stranger. “He shut me out.”

  Eric. The shaky telepathy they shared was completely severed, and I recalled my own slicing pain when he shoved me out.

  “Me, too,” I confessed, trying not to obsess over the time at the willow tree, but it consumed me. Eric’s eyes were darker, quieter than usual, just like his voice was, and he winced when he shoved me out. I knew enough about our powers to know he had forced it. When someone wanted to do it, they didn’t wince at all. Whatever Eric’s reasoning was, it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Pierce either.

  Jonathon wove his fingers through his hair as if he could read my thoughts. “He should’ve hit me harder.” He cursed for the umpteenth time. “Camille would kill me for throwing her in his face—”

  “We’re all a little tense,” I interrupted as I laid my hand on Jonathon’s shoulder. “Eric will be fine.”

  “Will he?” Jonathon’s glasses slipped to the bottom of his nose only for him to push them back up. “I can’t—” He practically hit his thigh when he dropped his hands into his lap. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t slap him myself,” I tried to comfort my guard, to protect him from his own actions, but he stared at the floor like he didn’t hear me.

  “I know you’re right,” he said. “Something is wrong with him. Eric would never act that way. He’d never hit me, but he sure as hell wouldn’t run away from fighting me.”

  “He ran so he didn’t have to hit you again.”

  Jonathon shook his head. “He ran because you told him to.” His words crushed me. “Eric would rather fight than run. Even if it were against me, he was born to fight. My dad taught him to fight. He only taught him to run from one person.”

  Darthon. I knew the rules. Eric was taught to run only if he encountered Darthon before the battle. The Marking of Change had already happened. There was no reason to run anymore.

  “You’re right, Jess,” Jonathon emphasized my name. “Something is wrong with him.”

  I wanted to continue to talk to Jonathon about it, but Luthicer entered the room. The dark pits of his eyes moved between us. As he leaned against the wall, he fiddled with his beard, and it seemed to grow from his touch.

  “Urte will be here in twenty.”

  “What?” Jonathon huffed. “No express transport?”

  “Don’t take our powers so lightly.” Luthicer’s voice was as tight as his grip on his beard. “Now, which one of you is going to explain that little fiasco?”

  “It’s my fault,” I started, but Jonathon stood up.

  “Eric broke up with Jess.”

  “Jonathon.” I almost cursed at my guard.

  “What?” He kept his back to me and focused on the half-breed elder. “It’s true.”

  Luthicer looked over Jonathon’s shoulder to meet my eyes. “Is it?”

  I couldn’t deny it any longer. I nodded.

  Luthicer didn’t budge. “You seem extremely calm, Ms. Taylor.”

  “Because I know it isn’t me.” My fingernails curled into my palm. “It isn’t us.”

  “It’s him,” Luthicer agreed, but didn’t elaborate as he walked past Jonathon to take a seat at the nurse’s station. I stared at him, waiting for him to speak, but he only picked up a clipboard to read it.

  “You know something,” I accused.

  Luthicer glanced up. “As an elder, I’m supposed to hold meetings before I talk to warriors such as yourselves, but—” He pointed to the chair Jonathon was near, and Jonathon followed the man’s silent order. He sat down again. Luthicer drew in a long breath before he continued to speak at Jonathon, “I’m not sure I even see you as a warrior anymore.”

  “Well, I’m technically a guard,” Jonathon tried to joke, but Luthicer didn’t laugh. Jonathon’s shoulders slumped. “That’s a little harsh.”

  “Think about that the next time you attack Shoman.”

  Jonathon folded his arms and glared at the wall, but he nodded.

  Luthicer watched the boy with a parental glare, but his brow softened when his attention turned to me. “And I owe you for breaking the fight up.”

  “You’re the one who held him back—”

  “And you’re the one who got Eric to leave,” Luthicer interrupted. “Don’t discredit your actions. You did well, Jess.”

  My cheeks burned. “I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

  “And no one did.” Luthicer gestured to Jonathon. “Not much anyway.”

  “It was a good punch,” Jonathon said.

  Luthicer ignored him and held the clipboard toward me. “I owe you.” He shook the wood until I grabbed it. “Before you two got here, Eric came in, demanding to see me. Pulled me right out of my office with his yelling.”

  I wondered what job Luthicer had that allowed him to stay in the shelter during the day, but my thoughts were brushed aside when I looked down at the clipboard. A single paper sat on top with Eric’s name etched onto it.

  “He wanted me to check him for spells, illusions brought on by your time in the realm,” he explained as I read over the report.

  Everything was negative. “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s clean,” Luthicer confirmed.

  “Well, that wasn’t very helpful,” Jonathon said.

  Luthicer’s glare silenced him. “Do you ever think of anything but joking around?” When Jonathon didn’t respond, Luthicer sighed. “Although I’m an elder, I don’t have unlimited powers.” He raised his hands as if to expose his chest. “I’m not as magnificent as people think I am.”

  “Magnificent,” Jonathon’s voice was in my head. “Right.”

  “But I do know when someone is talking silently,” Luthicer said and continued to glare at Jonathon. “Really. I taught you better than that.”

  “What are you saying?” I interrupted their bickering.

  Luthicer leaned over to tap Eric’s report. “I’m saying there are other types of illusions—kinds I can’t detect—powers Darthon has above everyone else, even me or a full-breed elder.”

  My heart pounded. “How do we break it?”

  Luthicer’s long lips folded. “If he put an illusion on Eric, I wouldn’t be able to break it.”

  I almost dropped the clipboard. “But you did before.”

  “At the Marking of Change?” Luthicer asked for clarification.

  I nodded, but I also mentioned the time after prom, when Eric had been strapped to a table the night I sacrificed my memory.

  “That was different,” the elder explained. “Those are physical strains of an illusion. There are also sensory illusions—a type that affects the way you see or hear things.”

  The slice of information was just a reminder of how much I hadn’t learned in my first seventeen years of life, before I found the Dark.

  “They’re small but effective,” Luthicer continued as if he knew I needed him to. “They can be powerful under one condition,” he paused as if I could guess. When I remained silent, he finished, “If Eric agreed to it.”

  “Agreed?” My breath squeaked out of me. “He’d never do that.”

  “He wouldn’t be able to say it if he did.”

  “But—”

  “What I’m saying, Ms. Taylor, is this: if he did agree, there’s a reason, and that reason is the key to breaking the illusion down.” Luthicer leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as his eyes dragged over my face. “If you’re not telling us something about the realm, now is the time to do it because Eric can’t.”

  I swallowed. We were separated for the three days we spent there aside from one moment, the single event I had yet to confess. When we got back to the shelter, the nurse wanted to check me, and I had practically attacked her to get her off me
. Her touch felt like a burn, and I knew what the burn was: Dark energy. It was reacting to the energy of the Light in my veins. The powers weren’t complete, but they simmered with the same warmth the knife had when it entered me. To admit to my attempt would be confessing to the truth: I was also a light. I wanted to tell the Dark more than anything, but I was failing to find my words when Eric’s sentence repeated through my memory.

  I don’t like lights.

  Maybe Darthon was right. Maybe they wouldn’t trust me. Maybe they would kill me. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to risk any more than I already had.

  “They tortured him,” I choked out, trying to make a decision in the seconds Luthicer had given me. He was a half-breed, and the Dark loved him, but my situation was different. Too different.

  “That’s all I know,” I finished.

  Luthicer was silent as he continued to stare at me, but he cracked his bottom lip open. “And you?” His voice was a whisper, harsh and dark. “What did they do to you?”

  Eric knew. He knew I was one of the lights, but he obviously hadn’t told anyone. Not yet. The fact that he didn’t tell them told me that my hesitation was correct. The Dark had lied to us, but they had especially lied to Eric. He didn’t trust them, and I knew I shouldn’t either. Not until I could figure it out. Not until I could figure out what Eric was thinking. Even if he left me, we were a team, and our connection was the only thing I trusted to get us through it.

  We had hope left.

  “Jess?”

  Luthicer was still in front of me, but he had to repeat my name for me to realize it.

  “They left me alone,” I lied.

  Luthicer’s chest rose as he took in a breath. “Okay, then,” he said as he stood up. “If we learn anything else, I’ll let you two know.”

  “Thank you,” I managed, hoping to have a chance to talk to Jonathon before Urte came. In my mind, Jonathon was always a part of the team. Even if he hurt Eric, I trusted him, too. Somehow, in some way, I would tell him.

  “Oh, and Jonathon,” Luthicer spoke up as he left the room. “Your dad is here.”

  “Fantastic.”

  When Jonathon stood up to leave, I grabbed his arm. “Wait—”

  “I should go, Jess,” he said it without looking at me. “I’ve done enough damage for the day.”

  My grip dropped from his arm. “Can you talk later?”

  “It’d be better if we waited for the meeting.” Jonathon moved away, but he flashed a grin. “You’re a strong person, Jess. Thanks for helping me.”

  I bit my lip, but I nodded before he left me alone to my thoughts.

  25

  Eric

  “I need to change my schedule,” I spoke before I realized who I was speaking to.

  The blonde behind the counter smiled when I finally met her brown eyes.

  I gripped the counter. “Linda.” She had to be Fudicia. Her or Crystal. Either way, they were both guilty.

  Linda tapped her nails across the keyboard, but her smile never faltered. Apparently, in her transfer to our school, she had signed up to be an office student, a duty offered only to seniors. It was just my luck she was the one I had to speak to if I wanted to switch homerooms and get away from Jessica.

  I stared at the girl who had dated Robb for as long as I could remember, and I tried to place Fudicia’s face on her. Linda’s was soft, her cheeks as round as her eyes. But her lipstick was as red as Fudicia’s lips were. For once, I could see the light in the human, the innocent version of the sadistic woman who had killed my first girlfriend.

  “What class do you want to switch?” Linda spoke as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  “Homeroom.”

  She peered up at me. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  Her hand flicked up as she placed a form on the counter separating us. “I need a parent’s signature.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I leaned over the counter and snatched the pen right off of her ear. A gasp escaped her as I scratched my father’s name on the form and threw both the pen and the form back at her. “There you go,” I spat. “A parent’s signature.”

  “I can’t accept that,” she said as her eyes darted down the paper. “Mr. Welborn.”

  “Don’t bullshit me right now.”

  Her thin eyebrows rose. “You are so lucky I’m not a real secretary.” Her words didn’t make sense until she picked up her pen and checked the approval box. She was letting me transfer.

  I lost my breath.

  “There’s only one class open,” she continued as she glanced at her computer screen. “You won’t be in the same lunch.”

  “Even better,” I muttered. “Are we done here?”

  “Not yet.” She stood from her desk only to lean against the countertop. She stuck her hand out toward me. “I’m Linda, by the way.”

  I stared at her palm, forcing myself not to hit her. The teachers would see Eric hit Linda, not Shoman hit Fudicia, the murderer. “I know who you are.”

  Her attempted handshake curled up. “I know.” She didn’t even deny it. “Maybe we should eat lunch sometime.” Her voice was like liquid, lucid and smooth. It was the same tone she used when I first met her as Fudicia, tied up in the shelter after she had killed more shades. How much blood she had shed was beyond me, but a drop was enough.

  When I didn’t respond, she stepped back to put gum in her mouth, breaking one of the rules our teachers enforced like it was a drug. “You should be in homeroom right now.”

  I picked up my bag. “While you’re at it, you can mark me as absent.”

  I started for the door, but she called after me, “Would you mind straightening out Hannah Blake’s memorial?”

  Abby. My palm coated with sweat as I grabbed the doorknob.

  Linda giggled behind me. “Someone might have knocked into it this morning,” she continued. “I was just about to do it, but since you’re leaving—”

  “Fuck off, Fudicia.” The curse escaped me as I left the room.

  My body was on fire before the door slammed behind me. I didn’t do as she said. I didn’t straighten out Abby’s memorial. I grabbed it instead, plucking it off the wall to take it with me. Fudicia wouldn’t get the satisfaction of torturing me, but I would get the satisfaction of knowing she would have to explain it to the office. The attention was another way I could signal to the Dark that something was wrong. I hadn’t talked about Abby since she died, let alone touched her memorial, but if she were watching, I knew she would laugh.

  Abby was like that. She always laughed, and I found myself laughing for the first time as I left the school with her photo in my hands.

  Even the dead could help me more than the living Dark could, and there were two more deaths I had to confront before I could cause another. I knew that the second Jonathon threw Camille’s death in my face. It was the only way I could fight back. I would kill Darthon. I just had to resolve the past first.

  26

  Jessica

  His seat was empty. That was the first thing I noticed when homeroom began. Eric wasn’t in class, and there wasn’t a single sign he was coming. My attempt to talk to him about how I was a light and a shade was put off again. I would have to wait. But the second thing I noticed took over my worry.

  Our teacher never asked me to move away from Robb or Crystal. Even though I wasn’t supposed to sit at their table, Ms. Hinkel didn’t question it. She never even looked at me—unlike the rest of the class. Their eyes had been on me since I arrived at Hayworth High.

  Everyone knew. The rumor was too loud to ignore, even when it was whispered. Eric had broken up with me, and I was the desperate girl who hadn’t taken off his ring yet. I stared at it until class ended.

  “Here.” Crystal’s voice caught my attention before I realized what she had done. A silver necklace sat on the lunch table in front of me. When I looked at her, she forced a small smile. “So you can hide it.”

  She was giving me a necklace to keep
his ring on.

  I pushed the necklace back. “I don’t want to hide it—”

  She picked the chain up, grabbed my hand, and forced the jewelry into my palm. “You don’t want to listen to the rumors either,” she pointed out. “Don’t give them a reason to talk.”

  The silver burned against my palm, but my heart leapt. She was right. I took off the ring only to string it around the necklace. Crystal helped me clip it on, blocking the view of anyone who was watching. The ring pounded against my sternum as I put it inside my sweater.

  Crystal plopped down next to me and kicked her feet up on the table. “You okay?”

  I stared at the willow tree, half-expecting Eric to be there, even though I knew he wouldn’t be. “Where’d he go?” If anyone knew, Crystal would.

  “You don’t want to know—”

  “I do.”

  Crystal fiddled with the ends of her hair. “He transferred out, Jess.”

  “What?”

  “That’s why Ms. Hinkel didn’t make you move,” she explained. “She’s probably trying to figure out where she’s going to put you.”

  I waved away her secondary information. “How do you know he transferred out?” I couldn’t bring myself to say Eric’s name.

  When she bit her lip, her lip ring sparkled. It was purple today. “Linda told me about it this morning,” she explained. “She works in the office now. Handled his paperwork herself.”

  Eric wasn’t going to come to class ever again. He was distancing himself. Even I couldn’t deny it.

  “I didn’t know Linda and you were so close,” I muttered.

  “She’s my boyfriend’s sister.” Zac was Crystal’s boyfriend now. “What do you expect? She’s going through a hard time, needed a girl to talk to—”

  I stopped her. “Hard time?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Crystal straightened up. “Robb dumped her.”

  I huffed. “What’s new about that?” All the drama seemed so mundane now.

  “True.” Crystal laughed. “But it’s hard for her.” She leaned against me. “You’ll both get through it.”