Death Before Daylight

by Shannon A. Thompson

  He didn’t even flinch. He acted like I hadn’t done anything. “I think studying different cultures would be interesting.” He changed the subject to focus on himself.

  I sighed.

  “I’ve been reading about African history recently,” he continued. “Did you know Pablo Picasso’s paintings were inspired by African sculptures? Modern viewers think he was bizarre, but in reality, he was part of a European movement in his time. He—” Eric stopped.

  My parents’ jaws were hanging open.

  Eric fiddled with his shirt. “I get carried away sometimes.”

  “No, no, it’s okay,” my mother said, taking a moment to eat her food. “We were just—” She looked at my dad, but he didn’t look back at her. He was too focused on Eric. “Surprised.” Her sentence finished with a polite smile. “Most children—I mean, teenagers—don’t study outside of school.”

  Eric glanced at his plate. “I like to read.” It was the only thing he did outside of training. He may not have been interested in school, but he did have interests. It was one of the things I appreciated about him. But even I didn’t know he was reading about Pablo Picasso.

  “Eric also likes classic cars, Dad,” I eased the conversation away from art. “He drives a Charger.”

  “I thought you crashed that.” My dad didn’t hesitate.

  Eric choked on his food and coughed until he took a sip of water. “Yeah,” his voice dropped. “I was being reckless,” he said. “It won’t happen again. I learned my lesson.”

  “I expect you won’t drive like that with my daughter in the car.”

  “Dad,” I interrupted, but Eric laid a hand on my knee, keeping his focus on my dad.

  “Of course not, sir,” he promised. “Your daughter means a lot to me.”

  My dad’s darkened eyes softened. “And what are your intentions?”

  The cliché question I dreaded. I knew he would ask it. I only hoped he wouldn’t. It sounded like something out of a Lifetime movie, a chick flick that I would never watch.

  “We’re just dating,” I clarified, but Eric spoke up at the same time.

  “If I can be honest,” he started, his gaze flickering over to me. “I intend to keep my promise.”

  He didn’t have to say it out loud. He had told my parents he wanted to marry me.

  I almost fell out of my chair.

  My mother practically did. She started to stand up only to force herself to sit back down. The only noise was the tapping of her nails as they moved across the table. My father wasn’t even moving. He hadn’t paled. He just stared.

  Eric cleared his throat and placed his silverware down. “I know it seems serious,” he said. “Because it is,” he added. “But I have good intentions.” His hand squeezed my knee as if he were telling me it was fine. “Jessica reminded me what it means to have good intentions, and that’s no small thing.”

  My father leaned back in his chair. “That’s why you gave her your mother’s ring?”

  Eric nodded.

  “Your mother is…” my dad paused. “Your mother passed, right?”

  Eric tensed. “Yes, sir,” he said. “She died when I was five.”

  “And your father?”

  “He’s alive.”

  My dad shook his head, signaling that wasn’t what he meant. “Does he know you gave away your mother’s ring?”

  “Yes, sir,” Eric said, reaching into his shirt pocket. He revealed a business card, and he slid it over the table to my dad. “My father knows about Jessica and me,” Eric explained. “He says you can call him anytime.”

  A gasp escaped my mother’s mouth, but she covered her face as though hiding it. Eric acted like she was successful anyway.

  “I understand your hesitations,” Eric said, sounding more like an adult than I ever expected him to. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance.” He looked at me, but he spoke to them. “I also understand you don’t have to, and if that’s your decision, I’ll respect it.”

  “Eric.” His name broke out of me in the same way his words broke me. “Why would you say that?”

  “Relax, Jessie,” my dad said before I could continue ranting to Eric telepathically. “It’s okay.” He slid Mr. Welborn’s card into his front pocket. “You’re kids. We don’t need to be so serious.” His tone shifted as he adjusted in his seat. “Just be—safe.”

  My embarrassment moved up my neck and over my face. “Dad—”

  “And enjoy this food.” He lifted his fork, pointing it at the plates. “I would like to see your car up close after dinner, too.”

  “You can drive it if you want,” Eric said. He never offered his keys to anyone. Not even Pierce.

  “See, dear?” my dad lightened up as he faced my mother. “I told you Jessie could pick a good one.”

  My mother laughed, her giggle bouncing more than usual. “I guess you’re right,” she said, taking a moment to eat her pot roast. “Thanks for coming over, Eric.”

  “Thanks for having me over,” he said, removing his hand from my leg. “And thanks for letting me be honest,” he said to me.

  “You could’ve warned me,” I retorted, focusing on my plate. I hadn’t even touched my food, and I couldn’t tear my eyes off the smirk on the side of Eric’s lips.

  “Warn you?” he spoke back. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  ***

  “I cannot believe you,” I spoke to Eric as my father revved the Charger’s engine. Once the car pulled away from the curb and took off, I found myself leaning against Eric’s arm. His eyes followed the black car as it sped down the neighborhood street.

  “What?” Eric’s tone was as childish as his toothy grin. “I think they like me.”

  “Don’t get cocky.”

  “I’ll try to keep myself in check.” Eric’s arm rested across my shoulders.

  The sun was setting, but even in winter, the orange glow drifted across his tanned skin. If he were a shade, the light would’ve looked like shimmering water on his pale complexion, but I would never see him as a shade during sunset. We always had to wait until darkness fell. Unless he was being reckless.

  “Why didn’t you ask them?” I spoke up.

  “Ask them what?”

  When it came down to Eric giving me his mother’s ring, he had found my biological parents—their grave—and he had spoken to them. But he hadn’t even met my parents, the ones who had adopted me shortly after I was born. The question had been rattling inside of me for weeks, but I only recently found the words.

  “Why did you ask my biological parents for permission, but not them?” I reworded my question.

  Eric’s arm moved away from me, but he faced me. His green gaze was a forest of protective trees with the same feel that surrounded the shelter. “I should’ve, Jessica, and I know that,” he started, “but I didn’t think we’d tell them we were even dating for a while.”

  The explanation he had given me in the training room echoed inside of me. Even our peaceful moments were outlined in chaos. He didn’t want to start his relationship with my family during a war.

  “I wasn’t going to tell them the truth tonight either,” he said, “but I don’t want to lie to them any more than we have to.”

  They wouldn’t know I was a shade, not now, and possibly ever. That part of my life wouldn’t include them. I understood that. But Mindy knew, and she was human. Eric’s reality was crashing with mine.

  “How is Mindy dealing with it?” I asked.

  Eric’s palm landed on my head. “She’s—learning,” he said, “and your parents will, too.”

  “What?”

  His eyes widened. “You didn’t want to tell them?”

  I hadn’t even considered it a possibility. My expression must have told him that because he kissed my forehead.

  “In time,” he started, “this will be as normal as everything else.”

  My fingers curled against his shirt as the Charger’s headlights flickered toward us. My father was returning.


  “It’s getting dark,” Eric whispered against my hair.

  “Are you going out with Jonathon?” I asked.

  Eric’s arm twitched next to mine. “I meant to tell you,” he said. “We’re supposed to meet him by the river at midnight.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a new shade,” he explained as we watched the car park against the curb. “She wants to meet us.”

  “A new shade?” I asked. My father was getting out of the car.

  “We’ll have to talk later,” Eric muttered, raising his hand in a wave. “Can you be there?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great,” he said, suddenly raising his voice into a shout, “How was it, Mr. Taylor?”

  “That is some ride you have.” My dad tossed the keys across the front lawn.

  The silver was a silhouette against the sky, but Eric caught them without even looking up. “You can drive it anytime.”

  “Oh, that was enough for me,” my dad said, walking over to stand next to us. “Thanks for coming over.” He had said the phrase one hundred times since dinner.

  Eric nodded. “Dinner was great, but I should get going.” He gestured to the clouds. “It’s getting late, and we have school in the morning.”

  My dad tapped my arm. “Responsible, too.”

  “Yeah,” I began, staring at Eric. “Responsible.”

  Eric didn’t bother hiding his grin. “See you later,” he said and started walking to his car, not even bothering to kiss me goodbye. Not in front of my dad. Not when we would see each other in a few hours.

  “Have a good night,” I called after him.

  He waved over his shoulder. “You, too.”

  “See you in a few.”

  9

  Eric

  Fifteen minutes before midnight, I arrived. My body pulled out of the shadows, and I formed right in front of Pierce and Jessica. Her hand was on his arm, but she dropped it when I arrived. I had to remember the conversation Pierce and I had. Guards were close to their warrior shades. It was a connection. Not a romance.

  “About time,” Pierce said it like I was late instead of early.

  I scratched the back of my head. “How long have you guys been here?”

  “Two minutes,” Jessica said.

  “She’s been here for two minutes,” Pierce clarified. “I’ve been here for thirty.”

  “Well, you did say midnight,” I pointed out.

  “Midnight is when she arrives,” Pierce argued. “I thought we had to explain things to Jess.”

  “And I’m waiting for that explanation,” she said, and as if she had given an order, Pierce explained everything.

  A new breed of shades had appeared—or a new breed of lights. She was a half-breed’s daughter. We didn’t know how it was possible, and we definitely didn’t know who she was. But if we could figure it out, we might be able to understand why our powers were shifting.

  “Isn’t that the elders’ job?” Jessica asked, sweetly naïve.

  Pierce and I laughed in unison. “The elders aren’t exactly good at their job,” I said, ready to hear what else Pierce had to say, but he didn’t elaborate.

  “We’ve been meaning to tell you what’s going on, too,” Jessica spoke to her guard.

  His shoulders rose, and a silence barrier streamed out from him as if anyone could be listening from the shadowy forest behind us. We had as much privacy as we were going to get. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Our powers are stronger,” Jessica explained, sharing how her powers had worked in the middle of the morning. “And then, we sensed him.”

  “Him, being?” Pierce didn’t want to believe it any more than we did.

  “Darthon,” Jessica confirmed, “but he left when we got there.”

  Pierce looked at me. “And you left her there?”

  “Don’t judge me.” I lifted my hands. “You’re the guard, and I didn’t see you anywhere.”

  “That’s because I was busy trying to meet the new shade,” he retorted, and his expression twisted. “She’s here.”

  He didn’t have to say it. We had sensed her energy. It was wavering in pieces, an odd combination of sparks of the Light and shadows of the Dark. She didn’t feel like a half-breed. She was something else entirely—and she was walking on the sidewalk. Like a human.

  From a distance, I could make out how tiny she was. She was shorter than anyone else I knew, but her curves were dramatic. I didn’t realize she was our age until she was only a yard away. Even then, I doubted she looked anything like she did as a human. If she did, we didn’t know her.

  Her hair was as long as Luthicer’s, stretching to her waist, but it was pitch black. Two strands in the back were white, but she had severed them off, leaving stubs to spike out above her head like a second set of ears. But that wasn’t what caught my attention the most. Her eyes did. They were like Pierce’s—electric green—but tan swirls confiscated the edges of her irises. Her pale skin contrasted against them, and her lips did the same, as white as the moon.

  She stopped and looked us over like she had seen us a million times. The sight of shades was nothing new to her. “I’m assuming one of you gave me this.” She raised a ripped piece of paper. Her voice was as harsh as her glare, the sound of scraping glass. “You do realize you could get me in a lot of trouble, right?” She knew the Dark’s rules, too.

  “I gave you that.” Pierce laid a hand on his chest. “I’m Urte’s son.”

  “I’m assuming Urte doesn’t know about this,” she said.

  Pierce opened his mouth, but I stepped in front of him. “I don’t know what the elders told you,” I started, “but their rules aren’t everything, and you have the right to know us.”

  Her hand lowered as her multicolored gaze darted over me. “I came, didn’t I?” As she went to put the paper in her pocket, her hand flickered in and out of the shadows, and she lost her grasp. The paper fluttered to the ground, and I picked it up before she could.

  “You’ll get used to it,” I said, knowing she didn’t have a grasp on her powers. Newbies never did. Not unless they were Jessica.

  “I’m not exactly supposed to transform. Not until they figure out what’s going on,” she revealed a set of rules the elders had given her. “Is that what this is about? Do you guys know what’s going on?”

  I cringed. “No—”

  She started to walk away, but Jessica grabbed the girl’s arm. “Wait,” she said. “We just want to talk to you.” Jessica dropped her hold. “We might be able to figure it out.”

  “Isn’t that the elders’ job?” the girl asked exactly what Jessica did.

  “We don’t like waiting on them,” Jessica explained, “and I bet you don’t want to either.”

  The new shade folded her petite arms. “They sure like to take their time.”

  “How long have you known about this?” Pierce asked.

  The girl faced him. “A while, but I’d rather not get into specifics,” she said. “I don’t enjoy opening up to just any stranger in the middle of the night.”

  “At least she has attitude,” Pierce spoke to me. “She’ll make for a good comrade.”

  “Worry about that later,” I responded.

  “What do you know?” I asked, trying to find common ground.

  Her lips pushed to the side. “How about you tell me what you know first?”

  Jessica took the lead. “Do you know who the descendants are?”

  Her odd eyes squinted. “They explained the prophecy to me,” she said, “but it doesn’t sound like that worked out.”

  I flinched. “I’m Shoman.”

  The girl’s neck whipped around, and her bottom lip hung open. “You,” she said, pointing at me. “You’re the first descendant?”

  Jessica nodded. “And I’m the third.”

  “And I’m just the guard,” Pierce explained, “so you can trust us to handle it if the elders find out we spoke.”

  She didn’t calm like I expected
her to. She stepped back, and the white parts of her hair wavered as her energy grew. I recognized the emotion. She was panicking.

  “You—you guys can’t be the descendants. Like, the descendants,” she stuttered, but we kept nodding. “That would mean—” Her eyes focused on Jess. “You’re Jess? Jess Taylor?”

  Jessica flinched. “Yeah,” she said, but her nails dug into her palm. “I guess I can’t be mad they told you.” Everyone else knew anyway.

  “And that makes you,” she pointed at me, but she didn’t get a chance to finish.

  “I’m Eric,” I said, hoping she would explain who she was, even though she knew the rules. Never give up your identity. Ever. Jessica and I had lost that opportunity.

  “Eric Welborn,” she added my last name, looking between Jessica and me. Her hands went up to her face. “This is too weird.”

  Jessica voiced it before I could, “So, you know us?”

  The girl’s hands dropped as she attempted to steady her shaky expression. “Yeah,” she revealed. “I know you. I mean, I know you who are. I’ve seen you at school.”

  She went to Hayworth. We knew that much.

  “This is weird,” she said, turning away from Jessica like she could forget her. She only focused on Pierce. “Who are you, then?”

  He raised his hands in front of him. “I’m the mystery.”

  “Right,” she said. “Me, too.” She wasn’t about to tell us who she was in her human life. “But they Named me Jada, so I guess you can call me that.”

  Jessica squeaked, but when I looked over at her, she was smiling. “Nice to meet you, Jada.”

  Jada nodded, but she kept her distance. “I suppose Darthon isn’t going to be at this meet-and-greet.”

  “No,” I sounded harsher than I wanted to. “He’s an enemy, not a friend, and if you ever see him, you run.”

  The girl stroked her hair in the same way Luthicer touched his ever-changing beard. “Do you know who he is?”

  “No.”

  Jada didn’t respond this time. Jessica did. She laid her hand on my arm, but didn’t look at me when she said, “I’m going to go.”