Minutes Before Sunset

by Shannon A. Thompson

9

  Eric

  “What’s that?”

  I gazed past Camille’s necklace and met her violet eyes. The nameless shade had been silent for an hour, but I didn’t mind. She had a lot to take in.

  “My guard made it for me,” I said, shrugging as I tucked it into my black T-shirt.

  She tilted her head, causing her long hair to cascade over her shoulder. “A guard? Like a security guard?”

  “Kind of.” I chuckled, thinking of Camille securing an outlet mall. She’d be too busy shopping to get anything done. “But you don’t have to worry about her,” I said. “She won’t be around tonight.”

  “Her?”

  I looked over, and my eyes flicked over her face—the nameless shade, the only girl I talked to outside the shelter, let alone after Abby’s death. I had to turn away.

  “She was assigned to me years ago,” I said, hoping to distract the conversation away from Camille.

  The girl shifted, pulling at the wet grass. “Does everyone have a guard?”

  I shook my head. “You’re a warrior unless you decide to denounce your title,” I said, leaning forward on my knees. “Then you’re a guard.”

  “So you’re a warrior?” she asked. I nodded, and her expression didn’t budge. “What exactly are you fighting?”

  “A war.”

  Her shoulders rose, and I stood up, offering my hand. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Instead of taking my hand, she frowned. “I thought you were going to teach me, not avoid the subject.”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Not tonight.”

  “Fine.” She grabbed my hand, and I pulled her up. “You don’t have to talk about your war, but you better teach me something,” she said, brushing the dirt off her pants. “I didn’t come out here for nothing.”

  I smirked. “Hanging out with me isn’t good enough?”

  “Not yet.”

  I laughed. “This should be good.”

  She stepped back. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you have no clue what you got yourself into,” I said, mirroring her steps. “I have a lot to teach you, but you have to be ready.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, digging her shoes into the park ground. She beamed. “Teach away, mentor.”

  “Teach?” My cheeks hurt when I smiled. “I’m not teaching you anything yet.”

  Her expression fell. “You’re not?”

  I shook my head and grabbed her arm. I winked. “I’m going to show you.”

  She screamed as her feet left the ground, and we shot into the sky. Her petite hands tightened on my jacket, and I twisted us into circles, shadows spiraling at our flying feet. The air spun around our bodies, winding our clothes with every moment and change in the atmosphere. I hadn’t flown in so long, and I had forgotten how alive I felt when I did.

  “Shoman!” She wriggled against my grasp. “Put me down. Let me go!”

  “If you say so,” I said, dropping her.

  She plummeted, falling from my grasp and through the clouds. Guess she couldn’t fly. In an instant, I shot after her trail of shadows, grabbing her before she even neared the ground. Abruptly, she silenced, and her echoing scream pierced the air. As she hung in my grasp, her purple eyes blinked up at me.

  “What the hell, Shoman?” She gasped as I pulled her up, steadying her against my chest. She dug her nails into me and glared. “I did not mean literally.”

  “I know.” I fought back laughter as she continued to glare. “But I thought you’d be able to.”

  “Be able to what?” She hit my chest. “Fly? Are you crazy?”

  I spread my free arm out and gestured to the world around us. “What do you call this?”

  Her purple eyes strained away, and her gaze flickered over the lit town below us. We could see for miles. The river flowed past the high school, the willow tree swayed in the wind, and the highway stretched on for eternity. There were so many places to go. But I couldn’t go anywhere. I had a battle to win.

  My jaw locked, and I held onto her wrists, slowly pushing her away. She tensed. “What are you doing?”

  I forced a smile. “You can do it too.”

  She shook her head. “Did you not see what just happened?”

  “That was my fault,” I said as I straightened her out in front of me. “I should’ve warned you. Guess I’m a bad mentor.”

  She giggled, her cheeks rosy, but her expression withered when she looked below her. “Will you catch me if I can’t?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” She bit her chapped lip and spoke past it. “I’ll try.”

  I grabbed her hands, holding her up, and concentrated on her energy. She seemed ready. “Whenever you want to,” I said.

  She hesitated, tapping her fingernails against my palms, before she let go. Her body dipped, and I mirrored her, but she remained in the air, gaping. “I’m doing it,” she said, shining. “I’m flying!”

  “You’re flying.” Her accomplishment felt like my own.

  Slowly, she spun around, staring at the ground beneath her. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered, and I tapped her shoulder. She looked up, her eyes met mine, and her cheeks burned red. The shadows faltered, slipping beneath her feet, and she started to drop. She yelped, shocked by the sudden loss of control, and I grabbed her.

  “Don’t,” I emphasized, “lose your concentration.”

  She nodded, and I held her in my arms again. Except, this time she didn’t seem mad about it. She lightly held onto my jacket, relaxing as she stared across Hayworth. Her violet eyes glittered with reflections. “I never realized how pretty Hayworth looked at night,” she said. “It seems bigger up here.”

  I froze, forcing myself to look away from her in order to study my hometown. Flying had always been what I concentrated on. Not the beauty. Why didn’t I look at it that way before? When I looked back at her, she was staring at me.

  “Is something wrong, Shoman?”

  I shrugged, shaking my head. “I’m fine,” I said. I feel strange.

  Without much thought, I laid my arm around her petite shoulders, tracing basic calming spells along her arm. They weren’t hurting her, and they weren’t evil. They were more like comfort food. My mother had always used them to relax me before bed. I loved them, but I hadn’t used them in a long time.

  Her purple eyes wavered, but she smiled, pushing her black hair back. “It’s soothing up here, isn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  “So much better than my real life.”

  My hand tightened around her shoulder. “This is your real life.”

  She held her breath and peered up at me. “It is, isn’t it?” Her tone had dropped. At least she had the right to leave if she wanted to.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked, listening to my words as if I wasn’t the one who spoke them.

  “I don’t see why not,” she said, and I dropped my eyes.

  “How’d your parents separate from the Dark?” Because I want out.

  “I told you,” she said, moving away as she folded her arms. “They don’t know about this.”

  “But—”

  “I’m adopted,” she said, and I inhaled, my lungs burning against the midnight cold.

  “That explains things,” I said, and her lips thinned.

  “It happens.” Without another word, she floated away and spread her arms out. Slowly, she descended to the ground, her black hair flying above her, shadows sparkling behind her. She was a natural. It had taken me two weeks to perfect a landing, and I was the best in my class. She mastered it in minutes.

  What was she?

  My heart slammed into my gut as I followed behind her. My feet met the ground, and I steadied myself, unsure how she could handle herself so well. As natural as she was, it was unnatural for a shade who hadn’t even gone through the Naming.

  “I should be going,” she said, avoiding eye contact. “I ha
ve school in the morning.”

  With my night vision, I stared at my wristwatch. It was two in the morning.

  “Right,” I said. “Me, too.”

  “See you tomorrow then?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “Can’t wait.”