Death Before Daylight

by Shannon A. Thompson

  “I know,” I managed to reply, knowing I didn’t have to get through it at all.

  Eric and I were not Linda and Robb. We were descendants with a destiny, one we had to fight for, even if we weren’t fighting together.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I spoke again, but my voice came out in a whisper.

  “Yes, I do.” Crystal grabbed my hand like we were children. “Don’t tell me you forgot.” She beamed, only inches away from my face. “We’re best friends. Lean on me all you want. You don’t have to pretend to be strong in front of me. Just be Jess.”

  Her words were the first to reach me. I cried. But it wasn’t from Crystal’s friendship. It was how white her hair was, how it reminded me of the snowfall on the day I almost lost everything. It was her purple lip ring, how the color told me I would lose my own purple powers. If I were going to fight back, my powers would be red.

  It was only a matter of time before my powers were the same color as Fudicia’s smile, or the blood Darthon had taken out of Eric. It had only been three days since our escape—the same amount of time we had been held captive. Three—the amount of descendants that existed until one of us fell. It was then that I realized why Darthon wanted me to come back. He wasn’t any different from Eric or me. We were just three people who hadn’t asked for anything but a chance to live.

  27

  Eric

  When I returned home, I felt her—Jessica’s heartbeat. Even though I had severed our connection, the feeling hadn’t left my veins. Until now. When it disappeared, I almost fell over. It returned in seconds, and it was the only reason I could stand again.

  My breath stabilized, but I fought the urge to call her to see if something had happened to her. When the Dark didn’t panic, I knew she was fine. It killed my own panic, but I still had things to worry about.

  I stared at Abby’s portrait, placing it in my desk. Her auburn hair was all I could remember now. Her voice was slowly fading. My memories were escaping me, or they were burying inside of me. The feeling was foreign. Perhaps it was what Urte called coping. I didn’t know, because I shut the drawer at the thought of my trainer.

  Jonathon had to have told Urte what I had done. By now, the Dark had to know, including my father, but I hadn’t faced my family yet. I had barely seen them. But I could smell dinner cooking. It was ready, and Mindy was calling my name before I could think of an excuse to stay in my room.

  I walked into the hallway, kept my eyes down, and sat at the table. I might have been able to avoid Jessica at school, but I couldn’t avoid my family. I had to face something, and I would, just like Jonathon had screamed. I lifted my eyes to see my dad staring at me.

  Mindy and Noah were quiet when he spoke. “Your teacher called today.” His fork scraped against his plate. “She said you skipped.”

  “I did.”

  Mindy leaned over to lay a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure he has a reason, dear.”

  “I don’t,” I said.

  Mindy’s hand dropped, mirroring her bottom lip. If I didn’t know better, her red hair frizzed with her confusion. Unlike her son, she knew about the Dark, but we had yet to speak about it. Noah would be told when he was older. That was what my father decided, and he was continuing to dictate everything as he said, “So, come up with one.”

  “I don’t have one,” I repeated, knowing if I tried to tell him the truth, Darthon’s spell would stop me. For once, not bothering to lie would be my only way to signal something was wrong.

  “Eric.” My dad glared. “It’s school. You’re supposed to go.”

  “Do I not have to go?” Noah chirped.

  I stared at my stepbrother, the preteen who was bordering on growing up. He was around the same age I was when I learned about who I was, but he had years to figure out who he was. For once, I envied his pudgy face.

  “Go to school, Noah,” I said. “It’s important.”

  “Which is why you should go,” my dad interrupted.

  “I will,” I snapped. “I’m just adjusting—”

  “To your new schedule?”

  He already knew.

  “Why did you transfer out of your homeroom?” he asked. Even he knew it was the only class I had with Jessica. It was the only time we felt normal. I used to cherish it.

  “I don’t like the teacher,” I mumbled, unable to explain.

  “Ms. Hinkel?” My dad’s eyebrows shot up to his receding hairline. “You’ve never complained about her before.”

  I shrugged, hoping he didn’t focus on Ms. Hinkel too much. It would be counterproductive if my dad started suspecting her.

  “So—” Mindy’s preppy voice slid between ours. “Did anything happy happen to anyone today?” She didn’t want us to fight more than we had already been forced to. As far as I understood, she had been a mess when Jessica and I were taken. When I finally came home, she hugged me tighter than she ever had before. Noah made fun of her. He had the same illusion put on him everyone else had. He thought I had gone on a trip with Jessica’s parents. It made me sick.

  “Anything exciting?” she pressed.

  “I didn’t get any homework,” Noah offered.

  Mindy clapped. “That’s great.” Her eyebrows pushed together. “I think.”

  “I transferred out of homeroom successfully,” I said it like it was a good thing. “That was pretty exciting.”

  My dad hit the table. “What has gotten into you?”

  I wanted to scream Darthon’s name, tell him my enemy was controlling me, but all I could tell him were minor facts that didn’t matter. “Someone stole Hannah’s portrait.” I never called Abby by her human name.

  My dad’s face paled.

  “It might have been me,” I added.

  “Isn’t Hannah dead?” Noah asked before Mindy hushed him.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” she offered. “Something nice.”

  “Jess is nice,” Noah said Jessica’s name when I least expected to hear it.

  I stared at the boy, fighting my words as they came out. “We broke up, Noah.”

  My stepbrother dropped his fork, and the clanging was the loudest noise in the room. I glanced at my dad, expecting him to yell again, but he didn’t. His lips were a thin line against his wrinkled face. Mindy was the last person I looked at. Her face was as red as her curls.

  “You’re just fighting, right?” Even she knew I wouldn’t break up with Jessica.

  “No,” I responded. “We broke up. We’re through—done—for good.”

  “Eric—”

  “Well, I’ll be in my room,” I interrupted her before she could question it. Out of all the people to interrogate my actions, I didn’t want to see my human stepmother understanding me more than my shade father.

  I left before any of them could speak again and shut my bedroom door, even though I knew I would have to open it again. If my calculations were correct, my dad would knock in thirty seconds. When he got in, he would put up a silence barrier before he screamed at me like he was a banshee instead of a shade. Noah would remain oblivious, but so would my father. No one would know Darthon was Robb McLain.

  The knocking was ten seconds late.

  “Come right in,” I said and opened the door.

  I was wrong again. My father hadn’t chased me. Noah had.

  He fiddled with his pockets, lingering in the hallway. “Are you sure I can come in?”

  I couldn’t say no. I gestured to my room, and he stepped inside, his brown eyes moving over my walls. Unlike him, I didn’t have decorations up. I kept everything organized. My room was the only thing I ever had control over.

  “You can sit,” I said.

  Noah sat on my bed like I had ordered him to do it, but he looked around like a stranger. He had been in my room before, and a part of me wondered if the illusion had affected parts of him it shouldn’t have. Jessica had gone through the same thing, but she was older. Noah was just a kid.

  I sat on my desk chair. “You okay?�
��

  “Are you?”

  I stared at the preteen, the one I used to fight to keep out of my life, the boy whose dad had ditched him after Mindy’s divorce, the kid who referred to me as his brother. Not stepbrother. And he reminded me of Jonathon when his mother left his family. He had sat in the same place when he told me. That night was the first time we took a flight against the rules, and for the first time, I wished Noah were a shade, so I could take him out, too.

  “I’m okay,” I started, but Noah stopped me.

  “Did you guys really break up?” His hands curled into fists against his khakis, reminding me that Mindy still chose the clothes he wore. “You two seemed good for each other.”

  He was upset, but I didn’t know why, because I hadn’t taken the chance to get to know him. “Things change,” I managed. “It doesn’t mean that it’s a bad thing.”

  Noah glared at the carpet. “That’s what happened to my dad and mom.” The divorce. “I—I don’t think you’re like that.”

  “I’m not,” I said it before I could stop myself.

  Noah’s brown eyes were glistening when he finally looked up at me.

  I swallowed my nerves. “Look, Noah,” I paused. “Jessica and I are teenagers. Teenagers break up—”

  “Not you two.” He shook his head. “You look at Jess like Jim looks at mom.” His face flushed as he finished his rant, “If you leave her, Jim will leave mom.”

  “That isn’t going to happen, Noah.”

  My stepbrother wiped his nose. “I like it here.”

  “I know.” I moved across the room to sit on the bed next to him. “You’re never going to have to leave here.” I brought my hand up to lay it on his head, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. “You’re my brother, okay?”

  Noah glanced up, but our eyes only met for a minute. He wrapped his arms around my torso before he tore himself away. When he leapt from the bed, a grin broke his lips. “If you tell anyone I cried, I’ll tell everyone you have a nightlight.”

  A chuckled escaped me. “Fair deal.”

  He nodded, but the beam left his face when my dad entered the room. The door had been open the entire time. I didn’t even know how long he had been standing there.

  “Noah,” he said. “Can I talk to Eric alone?”

  He glanced at me like he was willing to fight my dad if I wanted him to. “Get out of here,” I said, and he did.

  My father shut the door, and a silence barrier was up just as I had predicted, but he didn’t scream when he spoke. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I can’t—”

  “What happened between Jess and you?”

  “Nothing.” For once, the truth came out without a fight. “We broke up. That’s it.”

  “What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” His voice rose and dropped like he was fighting himself, not me. “Eric, as much as I hate to admit this as your father, I know how much you love Jess—”

  “I—I—” I couldn’t say I didn’t love her. Not again. Once was enough. All I could manage was four words. “The prophecy is wrong.”

  He glowered. “The prophecy might be cryptic, but it was never wrong.”

  “Then, Darthon would be dead.”

  “Stop dwelling on that,” he snapped. “The prophecy is not wrong about your feelings for Jess. I witnessed it myself. Don’t tell me I imagined it.”

  “You might have.”

  He pointed to my hands. “Then, why are you wearing your ring?”

  I stared at the jewelry my late mother left behind, the single gift she had given me, but it hardly seemed like a gift now. It was a reminder of what Darthon had told me about my bloodline. If I were going to ask my dad about it, this was the time to, but I opened my mouth only to shut it again.

  My mother’s death was one I had to face, but I wanted to deal with Camille’s first. She had raised me more than anyone. She deserved the attention. I would have to ask my father after I visited Camille’s grave. I only hoped I had enough time to do both.

  “I guess I am wearing it,” I muttered.

  “You guess?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Are you going to take it off?”

  I shook my head.

  My father groaned, and my bedroom door squeaked as he leaned against it. “This is why Jonathon and you fought, huh?”

  I cringed. “Urte told you, then.”

  “Of course.”

  “If it means anything, Jonathon punched me first.”

  “And you punched him back,” he pointed out.

  “I only did it to defend myself.” I couldn’t tell him about Camille. I cursed instead. “Jonathon is an idiot.”

  “Right now, Eric, I don’t think you have the right to call anyone an idiot.” His words were harsh because they were true. “Why’d you break up with Jess?”

  Because I’m under Darthon’s control. The words were so easy to think but impossible to say. My neck felt like it was on fire. I had to grab it to calm down. I already had a plan in place, one I had thought over carefully, one I had obsessed over since I dumped Jessica, but taking action was another thing entirely.

  “Her death causes Darthon’s,” I struggled to start.

  “Is that what this is about?”

  “It’s true.”

  “So, what if it is?”

  I despised how calm his voice was. I yearned for him to yell at me. I missed how he was when I was a kid, when my mom had died, when he blamed me for everything.

  “You know it’s true?” I pressed, considering my plan.

  I listened to my father’s breath as he hesitated. “We believe it is.”

  “And you don’t want to kill her?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Never?”

  “Never, Eric.”

  It was everything I needed to hear. “Then, you should know why I left her.”

  My dad waited, and in his silence, I wondered how much Jessica would hate me when she found out what I would say.

  “She’s one of them, Dad.” I couldn’t stop my next move any longer. I had to fight back. “Jessica is a light, too.”

  28

  Jessica

  The meeting was called shortly after midnight, but I waited for Pierce to come to my house. He had to reach me over my phone, and for once, I had the ringtone on. It only took him fifteen minutes to arrive, but it took us thirty minutes to get to the shelter. We walked in complete silence. Meetings were never a good thing, and when we arrived, all of the faces confirmed my hesitations.

  The remaining elders—Bracke, Urte, and Luthicer—were present, and Eric stood against the wall. The only face that surprised me was Jada’s. She stood in the far corner. I didn’t have a chance to say anything, though. Before I could, Urte announced, “Everyone’s here.”

  “Great.” Bracke sat at the head of the table. His blue eyes and black hair mirrored Eric’s as Shoman. Everyone was transformed like we were facing a battle instead of holding a discussion. “Shut the door, Eu.”

  Luthicer cleared his throat. “Bracke—”

  Eu was dead. In all of the commotion, the leader of the Dark had somehow forgotten. He was more like Eric than I realized.

  “Right.” Bracke cursed. “Urte.”

  Pierce’s father had already closed the door before the order came, and he lingered near his son in a way I hadn’t seen him do before. The other father-son duo—Shoman and Bracke—couldn’t have been further apart. In fact, Shoman was closer to me, and I couldn’t help but stare. Somehow, his shade appearance seemed different, like Eric was peeking through his own skin.

  “I’ve asked you all to come here to discuss an important change, but I would like to clarify one thing first—a rule above all other rules.” Bracke’s voice tore my concentration away from Shoman. “Nothing we speak about today leaves this room.”

  My guard chuckled. “That’s very Fight Club of you, Bracke.”

  “Pierce.” This time, the warning came from Urte instea
d of Luthicer. Pierce’s jokes were no longer welcome, and by the silence of everyone else, I didn’t feel welcome either.

  I swallowed before I asked, “What’s this about?”

  “You should know more than anyone else.” Bracke leaned his elbows on the table, and for a minute, I remembered how Darthon had looked sitting across from me. “Isn’t there something you want to tell us?”

  My heart skipped. “No.”

  “About the Light realm?” His eyes said it all. I recognized the look only because Eric had the same one. This was my last chance.

  I glanced over the room, skipping from face to face until I landed on Jada. Her white and black hair exposed her as a new breed of shades, but it mainly reminded me of how she, a brand-new member, had a name, and I didn’t. I was always going to be Jess. Shoman even called me that now. Darthon was the only one to offer me a Name, but my identity was in the Dark. Although my enemy had tried to tear it apart, I held it close to my heart—the same one I had tried to stab.

  I fought the urge to touch my scar.

  “Jess?”

  My name was spoken by Luthicer, the only man in the room who had eyes like Darthon.

  I bit my lip, unable to tell them anything yet. My pain was mine. Protecting the Dark was the only thing that mattered. My other half, the part the Light claimed, didn’t matter until the Dark was safe. I would find a way to save myself after.

  “I have nothing to say,” I managed.

  Bracke brought his fingertips up to the bridge of his nose, as if he were adjusting glasses that were no longer there. “Is it true that you’re also a light?”

  My neck snapped as I looked at Shoman. He was the only person who could’ve told. “Eric.”

  He focused on the ground.

  “Look at me,” I demanded.

  “This isn’t about me, Jess,” he emphasized my name, but his eyes didn’t rise. I could only see the blue eyes in his father’s face.

  “Shoman told me,” Bracke confirmed, placing emphasis on the first descendant’s name in the same way Eric had focused on my nickname instead of my full one. “We wanted to confirm it with you first.”