“I thought the Dark had lost,” I confessed.
Eric never spoke.
“When he let us go, I thought it was because he didn’t want me to die, because he would die,” I voiced the only reason I had come up with. “But I never thought he had control over you. I never thought he continued to torture you—” I took a shaky breath. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“For what?” The two words were the only two he had said since I started speaking, but they weren’t harsh or strained. They were low, a barely audible construction of two syllables.
I searched his face for something, a small indication of anger, but his eyes were half-closed, tiny squints of green beneath his bangs. Eric Welborn was looking at me. He didn’t take his eyes off me once. He never let go of my hand. His heartbeat was the same rhythm as mine, and we breathed together.
“For not being able to save you, or the Dark, or anyone.” My fingers twitched in his grasp, and as I thought of his late mother, I had to drop all eye contact. Our ringed hands had never glowed so brightly. “For doing what I did.”
“Jessica.” My name left his lips. “Jessica, look at me.”
I did.
“None of this is your fault,” he said. “Don’t you dare think that.” He squeezed my hand. “And don’t hide things from me because you’re scared.” A small smile pulled at his lips, but he looked down at our hands. “I am, too.”
I stared at the side of his face as his jaw popped. As familiar as the gesture was, I hadn’t seen it happen so closely. The way his eyes clouded over reminded me of the time we had worked on a science project together. It was the first time he opened up as a human, and it was before either one of us knew who the other actually was. I knew he would talk again when his mouth opened, “I have something I have to tell you, too.”
My breath caught in my throat, so I nodded.
Even though he didn’t look at me, he started speaking, and his confession took over the room.
He had spoken to his father about his mother’s suicide, how she was the bloodline, how she took in Camille, how she had almost killed him, how she had taken her own life instead. He didn’t stop talking until he lifted our hands. “She gave these to me for a reason.” The rings that kept him alive. “I don’t think she ever wanted me to die. I don’t think she wanted anyone to.”
In that moment, I saw Jim Welborn in his son. Their expressions were identical. The twist of their upper lip was unmistakable. They even shared a line on the side of their face, but Eric’s wasn’t a wrinkle yet. It would be one day. I wanted to be there when it was.
“I didn’t know,” I said after a moment of silence.
“There’s a lot we didn’t know,” Eric agreed as he leaned back, “but that’s over now.” His bangs brushed in front of his eyes, but his glare burned through the shadows. “I’m not listening anymore.”
The four words came out in a strangled stutter, and I wondered if it was the illusion, the one Darthon controlled him with. Even though Eric couldn’t control his voice, he was fighting back again. We both had to.
He straightened up, and his face hovered inches away from mine. “Can I kiss you?”
I didn’t think I had to nod, but I did before he let go of my hand. With the freedom, he touched my face, and his touch lingered before he kissed me. It had been weeks, but it felt like months were melting away between us, months that we wouldn’t have if we didn’t live, and I knew why love was always described with eternity. A single minute stretched out for lifetimes.
When he shifted back, I was reminded of our actual timeline. Before I could break away, he pressed something cold into my palm, and our kiss ended.
I glanced down and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Eric had returned my necklace, the one that kept his ring against my sternum, the same one Robb had removed from my collarbone.
I gripped the chain Crystal had gifted me. “I left this at the coffee shop.” But it was in my hand, and Eric was the one to return it. Not Robb. Not Zac. “How did you get it?”
Eric’s face tilted to the side. “You don’t need to ask that.”
Darthon. Eric may not have been able to speak, but he had control of his actions, and Darthon had attacked Eric that night. The necklace had somehow been exchanged. It was undeniable now. Darthon had to be Robb, but my stomach twisted at the reminder that Zac had been present. Both of them had to be involved. Even if I knew Darthon was Robb, I was unable to kill him. Only Eric could. Only Eric could get Darthon’s blood on his hands.
“I get it now,” I said, “why you stopped me from hurting Zac.” I thought back to the day in the parking lot. “Killing isn’t something to take lightly, not for yourself or your enemy.”
“It has to be done—”
“You’ve never even killed anyone, Eric,” I interrupted without realizing what words had left me. A gasp followed, and I covered my mouth like I could take it back, but it was too late.
Eric paled.
“I—” My head dropped to my hands. “I didn’t mean that.”
Eric pulled my hands away from my face. While I expected to meet his glare, I was met with a smile. “You did,” he said, “and you’re right.” He dropped my hands, and they landed on his knee. “I don’t expect it to be easy, and I don’t expect this to be easy for you either.”
He laid a hand on top of my head as he stood up. “You need to take care of yourself right now,” he said it like he was actually saying goodbye. “I can’t do that anymore.”
Before he could transport away, I grabbed the back of his shirt. “You never had to take care of me, Eric.”
When he exhaled, his shoulders fell. “Yes, I did.” I only let go of him because he turned around to face me. He knelt down to my height. “And you took care of me,” he said before kissing me again. This time, it was intense.
He didn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t want to.
His fingers curled through my hair, slightly pulling the strands as he kneeled on either side of my legs. My bed creaked as his torso leaned against mine. We laid back, continuing to kiss. We only stopped to breathe, but he didn’t roll off me. His chest pushed against mine as his face pressed into my neck. Every breath he took glided down my skin. He wasn’t even kissing me, but they felt like kisses. They were warm shivers.
I threaded my fingers across the nape of his neck, just to hold him there, and then I felt it. The burn. The Light’s sizzling power was vibrating, and it wasn’t coming from me. It was falling off him. The spell he was under imbedded itself into his neck.
My fingers were cold as I dragged them across his skin, but the electricity moved with me. Eric didn’t react. He just kept breathing. Even he couldn’t feel what I could, but he was a shade, and I wasn’t. Not completely anyway.
“We’re going to have to take care of each other after this,” he said, but his words were already in the past.
“For a long time,” I agreed, knowing how I could take care of him now. I had one thing I had to do first.
I let him go.
When my elbows pushed beneath me, Eric moved off me, and the coldness of my room seeped into my skin. “We’re going to win,” I said, but he stared at my ceiling.
“I wish—” he stopped. “I don’t want to leave.”
I held my breath as his face tilted to the side so he could look at me. He smiled before he sat up, and his smile disappeared before he stood up. “But I have something I have to do.”
“Me, too.”
He spun around. His bottom lip fell open like he was going to question me, but he ran a hand through his hair, and I knew he wouldn’t. Not when he couldn’t tell me what he was going to do. We were at the point where we just had to trust one another.
“Don’t fight without me,” I managed.
“Same goes to you.” His promise wasn’t straightforward, but it lingered in his tone. He walked over to the window, and I expected to see him transport away, but he didn’t. He simply laid his hands on the windo
wsill. “I guess we both had it wrong.”
I stood up. “What do you mean?”
“We thought we were fighting my battle,” he said with his back facing me. “We’re not.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We’re fighting yours.”
His words made my heart pound. “We’re still together.”
“Always.”
“Go.”
He only turned around for a second. “Do you trust me, Jessica?”
“I love you,” I emphasized every word, knowing trust imbedded itself in every one of them. “Do you trust me?”
As he shifted, he blinked, and in one second, his green eyes were blue. “I love you, too.” Eric was Shoman, but both of his sides loved me just as my sides loved him. No matter which one I became.
“Do what you need to,” I said. “Just let me do what I need to.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” As he spoke, a cloud of smoke consumed his place. He was gone, and I was alone.
I only stood when no one else came to check on me. I went straight for my desk, but my calendar caught my attention first. It was Valentine’s Day, and it had nearly passed without my knowledge of it. A part of me wished I had known so I could tell Eric, but we had already told one another what mattered most. We did love one another. I knew that. But I wasn’t sure we would get another chance to see each other again.
I didn’t know what he was doing, but I had to do what I needed to do, and we had to concentrate on ourselves. This time, though, I knew exactly what to concentrate on, and I knew what I had to do to fight back. This time, I could free the Dark, and this time, my words would be the only knife in the room.
I transported away.
47
Eric
School was normal—too normal—and I was half-tempted to unblock Jessica and Jonathon to check on them. We were halfway through the day, and I hadn’t heard a single thing. I hadn’t even seen Zac or Robb, but I did see Linda.
At lunch, she was sitting in her usual spot, her back pressed against the brick wall on the edge of the outside tables. For once, she didn’t look at me when I sat down next to her. She only stared at her nails. They were purple, and as much as I hated to admit it, they reminded me of Camille’s obsession with nail polish.
“Why purple?” I asked.
“Huh?” She glanced over, but her brown eyes didn’t widen. They were heavy, and small bags hung beneath them. She hadn’t slept.
“Your nails,” I said. “Why are they purple?”
She fixated back on them, but her fingers curled into a fist as if she didn’t want me to see them anymore. “Why? You want to borrow my bottle?”
Fudicia was back. Their caustic tones were almost identical, and it was exactly what I wanted. I needed her to be both a human and a light if we were going to talk.
“Did you know she tried to kill herself?”
Linda’s neck whiplashed to face me. This time, her eyes were wide, and her pupils moved as she searched my face. I kept every part of my expression still.
She huffed. “Who told you?”
“Jonathon.” Even he wouldn’t mind the lie.
Linda didn’t speak immediately, but when she did, her tone was soft, “Did you talk to her?”
“Would my answer make a difference?”
“I guess not.”
It was against the rules. We both knew that. But so was hurting Robb, and I had punched him. As far as I was concerned, our rules were over, but the spell still existed. I doubted I would ever be able to speak again, but I could fight, and if Robb wanted to, I knew the Dark had practically surrounded the school. The Light probably had, too. We were on the verge of war, but even the Light wouldn’t choose to fight at a high school. It was my only hope anyway.
“It’s coming to an end, isn’t it?” Linda voiced everything we already knew but had never spoken. She looked at me like I would confirm it, but I kept my face unreadable. “She’s going to figure Robb out.”
“She’s smarter than he thinks.”
When Linda nodded, her blonde hair blew into her face. It was one of the reasons I couldn’t see her expression, but the other reason was she faced away from me. I followed her gaze to the willow tree, and I wondered what memories she possessed from the Marking of Change. I knew who the Dark had lost, but the Light had just as many members die. Whether or not she had been close to any of them was beyond me, but I knew one life that had to matter to her.
“You don’t have to die,” I said.
Her back lifted as half of a chuckle escaped her. “Guards protect their warriors to the death,” she said it like the Light had taught her how to die. “That’s the point of having a guard, isn’t it?” Her eyes darkened. “Even Camille knew that.”
I ignored her words. “You don’t have to guard him anymore,” I said, knowing that we needed her help to defeat Darthon. In the end, he could take us back to the realm. In the end, we would need a light, but I hoped Linda needed the Dark in the same way we needed her: for survival. “You can be on our side.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but they opened as she brushed her hair back. “I can’t.”
“We have lights on our side already. Luthicer—”
“He’s a traitor,” she interrupted, “and a half-breed.”
“And half-breeds matter to us. My own guard was one.” Camille’s memory would never leave me. “Zac is one,” I spoke his name, even though it was difficult to. Unlike Linda, I never had the opportunity to understand his involvement. “Don’t you care about your brother?”
Linda’s face hardened, but it was in that expression that I saw myself. It was one I held whenever I didn’t want someone to read me. If she did care, she didn’t want me to know. “Zac would gladly die for Robb.”
“Would Robb die for him?”
Linda’s cheeks flushed. “What are you getting at, Welborn?” Her gaze became a glare. “You can’t mess with me.”
“I’m not trying to.” Even I wasn’t sure if it was a lie. “I’m trying to help you two.”
“And in turn, we help you,” she spat. “Right?”
She knew what I ultimately wanted, and I wasn’t about to hide it. “It’s a way we can all survive.”
“Except Robb.”
I nodded.
She leapt to her feet. “Forget it.”
I grabbed her hand. “The Dark will take lights,” my words rushed out of me. “Jessica is going to take over anyway. Help her now, and she’ll help you more in the future—”
She yanked her hand out of my grasp. “Jess?” Her tone was tight. “She’ll never accept her powers.”
“She will.”
“She didn’t.”
“You tried to force her,” I argued as I stood up, but I kept my distance by leaning against the brick wall.
Linda’s eyes moved to my hands and arms—as if she were waiting for an attack—and she stepped back before looking at my face again. “She tried to kill herself instead of joining us.”
“And then, you really wouldn’t have a single leader.” Robb would’ve been dead, too. “That’s how your Light half will die. Jessica is your only hope.”
Linda stopped moving away.
I shoved my hands in my pockets to assure her I wouldn’t attack. “Don’t you see that Jessica has to live, no matter what?” I chose my words carefully. “Whether I die or Darthon dies, she has to take over the other side, and she will. She’s prepared for it.”
Linda huffed. “So, let her take over the Dark.”
“I can’t do that.”
Her right eyebrow lifted. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t believe Darthon will let the Dark live,” my confession escaped me. “I don’t think he’ll let Jessica live.”
“She has to—”
“Not after I’m dead,” I interrupted. “I know how the rules change. I’ve seen it happen.” When the prophecy failed, everything changed. We even had Jada. New shades meant a new beginning, and it had already started
a long time ago. “Her life won’t be connected to his anymore. He’ll be able to kill her without dying himself.” There would be no need for the weaknesses to exist. “He’ll kill her for power.”
I expected Linda to argue, to pale, or react with shock, but her frown was frozen. She already knew what I had been thinking all along. Darthon didn’t want balance. He never did.
I knew it when I heard how he treated Jessica in the Light realm. Her life didn’t matter to him, not beyond keeping himself alive. Once I was dead, she would be his next target.
“The sects should’ve never fought for themselves,” I continued when she was silent. “We should’ve been fighting for one another this entire time, and I can’t take back the past, but I can fight for the future, and—”
“Shut up, Welborn.”
My mouth snapped shut.
“Seriously. You’re a walking headache.” Her fingers rubbed her forehead. “The Dark won’t let the Light live either.”
“That’s not true.”
“What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?”
The rebel inside of me always ignored the rules. “The Dark proved they won’t destroy the Light,” I spoke anyway.
Her sneer crinkled her nose. “How?”
“Jessica’s alive, isn’t she?” Even Linda knew the Dark was aware of both of Jessica’s sides, but I hoped Linda was oblivious about Ida. “What has the Light done to prove they’ll keep the Dark alive?”
“Why should I care about the Dark?”
“I’m not asking you to,” I said. “I’m asking you to care about your own life.”
Linda’s head didn’t move, but her eyes met mine from the corners. Her upper lip twitched.
“I care about your life,” I said, knowing it was true. As little as I knew her, she had helped me. She had taken the pain of the illusion off me, and by doing that, she had protected my relationship with Jessica. Even if she didn’t admit it, she had to have cared about me to do any of it. When she started caring was the question, but if I had to guess, it was during our time in the Light realm—it happened when she was watching Darthon treat Jessica the way he had. Fighting for someone so cavalier had to be impossible, but Linda never responded.
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