Death Before Daylight

by Shannon A. Thompson

  I didn’t understand what he was saying. I only stared at him as his expression slipped into one I had never seen before. His bottom lip trembled for a moment, but it froze as if it never had, and then, he was in front of me. His hand grazed my cheek. It was only then that I realized what happened. I had slid to the floor.

  “You’ll be all right,” he said, his touch pulling away from my face. “You’ll be able to handle the truth with my help. We’ll even give you a Name.” A real Name, something the Dark never gave me.

  His words were as warm as my shower had been. They moved over me as if they had cleansed a disease deep inside of me. But I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to feel the Light energy inside of me, but it was there—and it was inviting me to dive deeper.

  I closed my eyes to stare at my memories, to remind myself of Eric by the river, to feel the first kiss we shared, to believe in the Dark and only in the Dark. As the Dark cloud consumed me, the Light popped and strained against my insides. I collected it and forced it out.

  It shattered across the floor, and the marble cracked in half.

  Darthon didn’t flinch. He only sat next to me, placing his hand on my back as I wheezed. I couldn’t even push him away. My energy was gone.

  “It’s only going to hurt you more if you keep fighting it,” he said, knowing exactly what I had done. I rejected the Light energy. “Shades can’t survive in here. The only reason you can is because you’re one of us. Once you accept it, you’ll be better—”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  He moved away, but he didn’t move far. He maneuvered his way in front of me, facing me so that our toes pressed together. It reminded me of how Eric helped me stretch in the training room.

  I stared at his feet like I could pretend I was back in the Dark’s shelter—like I could forget the reality in front of me, like I could force Darthon’s words out of me—and then, I looked at his face.

  It was rounder than I originally thought, but his sharp cheekbones created an illusion of age. He had a widow’s peak and a scar on his brow. When his eyes widened, his face tilted to one side while his smile moved to the other. If Pierce had similarities with his human form, maybe Darthon did, too. Maybe we all did.

  “What are you looking for, Jess?” he asked, but didn’t try to hide his face. He wanted me to see it. But I heard it. He called me Jess. Not Jessie. Not Jessica. Not an assortment of names someone could be called by. He knew me as Jess.

  “You know me,” I said, “outside of all this.”

  His expression didn’t change. It was neutral. “I knew you were the third descendant for a long time,” he admitted, “but even I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our weakness,” he said. “It’s the only thing Eric and I have in common.” His toes pressed harder against mine. “You.”

  “I’m only your weakness because I kill you—”

  “Not entirely.”

  I yanked my feet up and hugged my knees to my chest. Every muscle inside of me burned. I hadn’t eaten, and I had expelled any influence the Light had on me. For once, I felt human and weak, but I wasn’t either one if I had the willpower to believe it.

  “You don’t love me,” I argued what he had insinuated, but his eyebrows shot up.

  “Of course I don’t,” he said, but his face dropped. “But I do desire you.”

  It was his tone. It was the way he looked at me.

  I pulled the Light energy back and leapt up to my feet. The power sparked a flame inside of my veins, and I put my hands in front of me. I wanted to kill him, even though he would come back to life, but he didn’t move.

  He stayed on the ground and looked up at me in the same way a child would. “Prom gave you away.”

  My hands dropped. “Prom?” That was months ago, way before I thought he knew who I was. He had held a knife to my throat. He could’ve taken me then, but Eric convinced him I was an innocent human. Evidently, he hadn’t been entirely convinced.

  “I saw him protect you, and I knew he’d already fallen for you,” Darthon said as he stared at the wall. “I only had to watch you to figure out who he was.” His lip curled. “But that pesky half-breed.” He cursed. “Your memory loss made it tricky.”

  Luthicer. He knew that Luthicer was the one to remove my memories. He knew everything.

  “How long did you know about Eric?” I managed.

  Darthon sneered. “We would’ve known earlier if it weren’t for that fake mother.”

  Ida. The elders had already told me everything I had missed. The woman had yet to meet me. She was mourning Eu. His death affected the shelter as much as Camille’s had. Eric hadn’t attended either of their funerals.

  “If she wasn’t there when we declared war—” His voice drifted off. “We did that for you, by the way. Everyone in the Light was willing to sacrifice themselves to a war just for you,” he said it like he was proud. “What did the Dark do? Shun you with confusion?”

  “That was my choice,” I bit back.

  “Are you still proud of that choice?”

  His question broke me.

  I jumped forward, ready to tackle him, but he shot up and grabbed my arms. I kicked him in the leg, but he didn’t kick me back. Instead, he twisted my arm behind my back and slammed me against the wall.

  “Don’t fight me here,” he spoke against my neck. “You’ll only regret it.”

  I struggled, trying to escape his grasp, but he leaned against my back until my face crushed against the wall. I could barely breathe, but I kept fighting. He shoved his knee into the back of mine, and my muscles tore. Air hissed out of my lungs.

  “Stop,” he sounded like he was begging. “Just stop fighting.”

  “I won’t.”

  And he was gone.

  I spun around only to see him standing by the door. It had reappeared with the table full of food. “You aren’t a prisoner here, Jess,” he said, opening the door to reveal the hallway. “Walk around. See it for yourself. You’ll see how much you belong here.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I lunged for the table, grabbed the nearest knife, and threw it at him. He leapt to the left, and the blade bounced off the wall, clanking across the ground.

  Darthon didn’t leave or lock me inside like I thought he would. He walked across the room, picked up the knife, and placed it on the table—only inches away from me. “Work on your aim,” he said, disappearing in a beam of light before I could fathom what I had seen.

  Darthon was limping. His arm was red, and bruises formed around his shoulders in the same places he had hurt me. My injuries appeared on him. We were connected.

  He wasn’t lying.

  15

  Eric

  I dreamt of my mother that night. The bats circled overhead, and she pointed up while kneeling down. Her other hand was on top of my head, and her fingernails scratched against my scalp. Her voice shook.

  “Even the scariest animals can be beautiful,” she said. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Boys aren’t beautiful, Mom.”

  As she took my hand, I didn’t look at her face. I only stared at her ring, the one that was on Jessica’s finger now, and then, I woke up.

  The Light realm was as dark as that night was, and for a moment, my dream melted over my reality. I saw the forest as she walked toward it without me, but the memory disappeared against the stone walls. I was awake.

  I laid a hand on my sternum to make sure my body was intact. Darthon hadn’t hurt me recently. No one had. But I could already sense his presence.

  “You’re awake,” he spoke like he had been waiting for hours.

  “Do you enjoy watching me sleep?” I rolled over to face him.

  He was already grinning. “You look like a princess.”

  His words made me sick, but his movements were worse. He walked over and knelt inches away from my face. “Can you sit up?”

  “I’d rather not,” I said, but he didn’t give me a choice.

  A
bright light burned my skin, and despite my will to lie on the ground, my body lifted until I leaned against the wall. My back contorted, and my stomach clenched like my teeth.

  “Good morning,” he said, but the red skin around his eyes said something else. He hadn’t slept. “I wanted to have a little chat with you.”

  “Why is that not a surprise?”

  His smirk melted, but his powers grew, and the air sizzled. It was hard to breathe, but I forced myself not to gasp. I didn’t want him to see my pain. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. When I didn’t budge, he hit me across the face and laughed.

  I spit out the blood before wiping my mouth. It wasn’t even torture anymore. It was as meaningless as a handshake.

  “What’s so great about you anyway?” he ranted. “You’ve never even killed someone.”

  “Most of us don’t rate a person’s worth on how many murders they’ve committed.” I waited for Darthon to hit me again, but he didn’t. He only stared at the wall. “I’m guessing your talk with Jessica didn’t go well.”

  Darthon didn’t look over as he pulled the collar of his shirt down. Four bruises scattered across his shoulder. “You could say that.”

  “She hurt you.” The words escaped me.

  “Indirectly.”

  My heart lunged into my throat. He had hurt her. The bruises on him were hers.

  “What did you do?” I growled.

  His eyes snapped over to me. “You worried?”

  I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Jessica could handle herself. She always could, and I couldn’t lose my mind over a few bruises. I had to stay in control.

  “I could do a lot,” Darthon continued as I tried to fight my anger, the same emotion Luthicer told me the Light would use against me. “She’s not as strong here,” he said, “and I kind of like the pain.”

  I snapped and grabbed him. He shoved me back, and my spine hit the wall. The breath in my lungs pushed out, and I couldn’t conceal my gasp this time. “Leave her alone,” I managed.

  “Then, be my slave,” he spat.

  My violence cooled. “What?”

  “You heard me.” It was his deal, the one he hadn’t explained yet. “Follow my orders, do everything I say, kiss my toes,” he elaborated. “That sort of thing.”

  I stared at the blond boy in front of me, the exact opposite of my Dark appearance, but I was the only one to flinch. “You’re sick.”

  He smiled like I complimented him. “That’s why I understand your mother better than you do.”

  This time, I hit him. He didn’t see it coming, and my fist collided with his cheek. His face snapped to the side, and he leapt up before I could hit him again. His wild-eyed stare resembled a child’s. He wasn’t even mad. He was amazed. It was as if no one had hit him before, and he chuckled like he enjoyed it.

  He took the time to rock his jaw back and forth before he spoke. “Both of you are so violent.”

  Both. Like Jessica was as physical as I was.

  “I meant your mother, Welborn,” he ranted as if he knew my thoughts were always on the third descendant. “Can you, at least, attempt to stay focused?”

  “I don’t care what you know about her.” This time, I was talking about my mother. She was dead. There was nothing I could do for her. Jessica, on the other hand, was alive, and so were hundreds of Dark members who were relying on us. If I could do something for them, I would. Worrying about the past wouldn’t help the future.

  “Don’t worry about Jess,” he said, sitting down again. This time, he was further away and definitely out of reach. “It’s not like I could kill her.”

  But he could hurt her. Even if it hurt him, he was used to pain like I was. Jessica didn’t have as much training as we did. Not even close.

  “You handle physical pain too well,” Darthon spoke what I was thinking. “Torturing you doesn’t satisfy me.” His words explained why he had finally stopped.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Right when I thought he would threaten to hurt Jessica, he changed his stance. “I guarantee you don’t handle emotional pain well,” he said it like he knew me.

  “Too bad I’m not emotional.”

  Darthon’s eyebrows rose until they disappeared beneath his bangs. “About your mother? Hannah? Teresa?” The human names for Abby and Camille sounded strange coming from him.

  “They’re dead,” I interrupted before he could continue his hit list. The Dark didn’t concentrate on death. We were raised to ignore it, to suppress the care for life. If I had been taught to think about life, I would’ve hesitated to kill Darthon even more than I already had. It was the single reason I wouldn’t think about Camille. I wouldn’t. She would be disappointed if I did.

  Darthon allowed the silence to linger like he could sense my brain moving.

  I shoved my thoughts away and snapped again, “They’re dead.”

  “Jess isn’t.”

  If a soul could darken, mine did.

  Darthon must have seen the evil in my glare because he grinned, “I thought so.”

  “If you kill her, you die,” I reminded him.

  He leaned back on his hands. “If I’m going to die anyway, I don’t see it as a loss.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Not really.” The light in his eyes brightened. “We killed Hannah for this. I killed my parents for this,” he said. “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill Jess if it came down to it?”

  I didn’t even hear his last words. “You—you killed your parents?”

  “They raised me to be a murderer. They had me kill my first dog.” Darthon lifted his hand to stare at his fingernails. “They’re proud I practiced on them after that.”

  Darthon didn’t just have blood on his hands. He had his own bloodline on his hands. As blond and bright as his outward appearance was, he was complete darkness on the inside, and we were in his realm.

  “But—” Darthon’s voice shivered up my spine. “If I can save her, I will.”

  My focus stuck onto his deal, the only way we could get out. “And you’re going to save her by making me your slave?”

  “Now, we’re talking.” He clapped his hands together, and his fingers threaded into a grasp. His knuckles were white. “Once you work for me, I can separate you two.”

  “So you can kill me,” I finished.

  “Precisely.” He nodded like we were making a million-dollar business deal. “So, yes, I believe that’s the deal we want.”

  We—like I wanted it, too.

  My mouth wouldn’t move. The agreement was too heavy to say. It was impossible to even ask for clarification.

  Darthon’s brow crumbled at my hesitation. “It’s you or Jess,” he said. “Which do you prefer?”

  “We don’t have to die,” I argued. “You do.”

  “She’s one of you, Eric,” he said. “If you want to achieve balance, what makes you think two shades can live? Where is the balance in that?” His voice wavered over his stutter. He never stuttered.

  “The balance is between you and me, not her,” I reminded him.

  “And why do you think her bloodline was created?” he asked. “She’ll take the place of the Light if I die, and she’ll take the place of the Dark if you die.” Even though he admitted I didn’t have to die, his words drowned me. “She’s half of each of us—a new breed—and a part of her will die no matter what we do.”

  Jessica wasn’t a shade. She was a light, too. She was both without being a half-breed, and her powers were different because she was different. The signs were right in front of me, yet I hadn’t seen them. I didn’t want to see them. I hadn’t seen her from the beginning.

  I closed my eyes, fighting the images of Jessica’s purple rain only for it to be replaced by my mother’s ring—the one I gave Jessica, the one I made a promise with. “You’re wrong,” I managed. Darthon couldn’t separate us. He couldn’t.

  “I’m not wrong,” he growled, “and that’s precisely why I’m more e
quipped to survive with her.”

  I opened my eyes as he stood up, signaling our conversation was nearing the end. “And I’m sure I can get her to see that when you’re not around.”

  He had already told her she was a part of the Light. He thought my presence was the only thing holding her back, but he was wrong.

  “It’s not about me, Darthon,” I shouted at his back as he walked away. “She won’t abandon the Dark.”

  He spun around on his heel to face me, but his expression hadn’t budged. “She doesn’t need to abandon the Dark,” he said, one step ahead of me. “She only needs to abandon you, and if you truly love her like the ancient ones say you do, you’ll let her leave you. She’d be better off with me. She’ll thrive. She’ll take the Dark to new levels, and she’ll govern a new state with her power, far beyond yours or mine.”

  I couldn’t speak. It was as if he had cut my tongue out and slit my throat. The information had to be lies, but it was backed up with facts, with memories I didn’t even understand, with information the Dark never shared.

  “You have one day to think this over,” he said. “I’ll be back to make that deal.” Whatever that entailed. “And then, you can enjoy a few weeks of life before I come to kill you.”

  “How gracious of you.”

  He stepped away, but his expression was stoic. “Just think it over.”

  16

  Jessica

  I picked up the knife Darthon discarded and took it with me as I walked around. As far as I could tell, the realm was empty, but I didn’t trust it. I never would. Even though my heart was warm, I cooled it with my thoughts.

  Darthon wanted me to be in the Light, and he wanted me to govern a new Dark—after Eric was dead. The fact that Darthon believed I would even consider it proved how insane he was. I wouldn’t let Eric die. I would get him out. I only had to find him first.

  The hallways shifted as I walked down them. When I opened one door, the red carpet curved into a new direction, revealing a room I hadn’t seen before. It was a maze of madness, but I relied on my instincts.