***
The elders created the shelter after my mother died. I was five years old when my father bought Hayworth Park and closed it to the public. In six months, it was converted into an underground safe house, and, naturally, the forest protected it. At first, the shelter was made up of two offices, a nursing room, and one training room. Since then, it had grown remarkably, and I couldn’t even guess where it ended.
Without a word, I walked through the dim hallways, avoiding the thirteen-year-olds as they ran around in their Naming excitement. Blue, white, and green sparkles littered the floor. Boys snapped their fingers, testing out their powers before they settled, while girls modeled the silver crowns they received. It was exhausting.
“Shoman.” I felt a small tug on my shirt as I met eyes with a young boy. He reflected the average shade: dark hair, light eyes, and pale skin. “I passed.”
I patted his head. “What’s your Dark name?”
“Brenthan,” he said, grinning behind his long bangs. “You have to teach me everything you know.”
I chuckled and knelt down. “It takes time, Brenthan.”
An older boy ran up to us, and he glared at his younger brother. Both of the boys shared dark hair and green eyes, and they acted in the same manner. “The elders are waiting for you,” he said, pushing Brenthan toward the short hallway behind us.
Brenthan already received his basic powers, but he still needed to vow to the Dark. Only then would he learn about the prophecy. He would learn who I was, who my family was, and what would come in the near future. For them, it was an exciting promise for a magnificent future. For me, it was a death sentence.
“I’ll be back,” Brenthan said, his ceremony robe dragging behind him as he bolted away.
Pierce turned to me and bowed his head. We were the same age. We went through the Naming together, and his father, Urte, was my father’s guard. Pierce’s family supported mine after my mother’s death and my accident two years ago. He was my best friend—my only friend outside the Dark—yet he was expected to bow to me. I was the first descendent, and he was merely a shade.
“Those kids, eh?” Pierce grinned. “They get so excited for something that seems so natural now.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” I said, watching supportive parents follow their children around. My father hadn’t shown up to mine.
“I only hope Brenthan realizes this isn’t all fun and games,” Pierce said, his eyes focused on the elders’ door. “I don’t want him to make my mistakes.”
“We all do, and we all get through it. Controlling power is a learning process,” I said, sighing. “Don’t worry about Brenthan. He’s a smart kid.”
With a trace of a smile, Pierce agreed. “Wanna get out of here? I can’t stand it any longer.”
My insides tingled at the idea of flying through the cold night air. Images of swerving between trees and clouds engulfed me. Our little town actually looked important from the sky, all lit up and alive.
But the girl. Our rules directed I inform an elder of any unnatural or unsuspected appearance, yet I hadn’t even told my guard. She was a secret, and I wanted her to remain that way. Didn’t I?
“Getting out sounds great,” I said, ignoring the fact that I’d already defied the Naming by leaving.
“Shoman!” My father’s telepathic scream tore through me. “Get home now.”
I cringed at Pierce, and he whistled low. “Bracke?” he asked, referring to my father’s Dark name.
I nodded. “I’ll have to take a flight with you later,” I said as I dissolved, transporting.
My father’s office was golden, and the lit room was filled with the same musky cologne he wore for the past decade. He stood by the bookshelf, and his weary, brown eyes shifted over my shade appearance. “I’d prefer you change when you’re home,” he said, and I fell out of myself.
My black hair lightened to brown, and my crystal blue eyes dimmed to a mossy green. I lost height, and my facial features shifted. Even my clothes had changed. Suddenly, I was human again, and Eric Welborn was my identity. It didn’t matter how many times I watched the unnatural transformation in the mirror; I’d never get used to it.
I slouched in the nearest chair as he returned to his desk and said, “You missed the ceremony.”
“You always do,” I said, knowing he’d locked himself in his office since the day I was Named. Even the leader of the Dark was unsure of his prophetic son.
My father sighed, shifting his thin hair onto one side of his head. “I wish you would have gone, Shoman.”
“Eric,” I corrected. After all, we were at home now—our human home—and my human side had the right to hate who I was expected to be.
My father glanced over the leather book in his hands. “Eric,” he began. “Where were you tonight? Camille told me you disappeared when the ceremony was about to begin.”
She was the one who disappeared. My jaw locked. We left the shelter together, but I couldn’t rat on my guard. But that girl. Who was she? How had she gotten there?
“Eric?” My father tapped his desk. “Can you at least pretend to listen to me?”
I shrugged. “I was thinking about Pierce,” I lied—one of my only talents—and kicked my feet up on his desk. “His little brother was Named this year.”
My father grinned. “He was?”
“Do you even talk to your guard anymore?” I asked, thinking of Urte.
My father’s face fell, and his brow furrowed as he sat down. “I’m glad that you could calm Jonathon down.”
Jonathon Stone was Pierce’s human form. We knew each other’s identities and went to high school together, but we rarely talked to maintain that secret. In fact, I rarely talked to anybody at school. I was kind of a loner. Who was I kidding? I was a loner.
“Actually,” I began, leaning forward as I considered my words. “I didn’t get a chance to calm Jonathon down. I promised him a flight soon—”
Light flooded my father’s brown eyes. “You guys should go tomorrow night.”
I raised a practiced brow. “Tomorrow?” I asked, already knowing my next move. “But Camille isn’t available.”
With his hand, my father waved the idea away. “You can go one night without a guard. It’ll do you some good.”
I agreed quickly and stood. “Thanks, Pops,” I said, knowing I had no intentions of seeing Jonathon on my one night of freedom.
Minutes Before Sunset Page 3