Minutes Before Sunset (26 page)

47

He wasn’t Shoman anymore. He was Eric.

Feet away, men held him against a bed as Luthicer poked and prodded his bleeding body. From the hallway, I could see his brown hair plastered to his hot cheek, his continuously bleeding shoulder, and paling skin. His screams were getting louder and louder. I could barely stand it.

I closed my eyes and shivered beneath my torn dress. I was human, too, but I wasn’t hurt. I didn’t understand.

“Take this,” a boy said as he draped a thick blanket over my shoulders. He was the younger one, with green eyes and black hair, but his arm was wrapped up. He’d gotten injured, too.

“Thanks,” I managed, grasping the cloth as Eric screamed again. I trembled.

“He’ll be okay,” the boy said, and I realized I had been biting my lip.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Darthon’s sword struck him,” he said. “It’s imbedded with poison just like any Light weapon.” He smiled, but I didn’t know why. Poison was serious, wasn’t it? “Luthicer will get him back to normal in a matter of minutes.”

I dug my nails into the cotton blanket, fighting my nausea, and Bracke left Eric’s room, shutting the door behind him. Eric’s screams mellowed, but I knew they were just as loud behind the closed doors.

“Jess?” Bracke gestured his neck toward the nearest room. “Come with me,” he said. “You don’t need to hear this.”

“But—”

The boy sighed and pulled me to my feet. “Follow me,” he said, and he dragged me. I was too exhausted to pull back.

We walked into the room, and Bracke shut the door behind us—adding another barrier between Eric and us. He was the only thing I could concentrate on. “He’ll live, Jess,” Bracke said, and I sat down.

“How’s he doing?” I asked, and the older man took a seat across from me.

“Okay,” he said, and the door cracked open.

Camille—the white-haired woman—slipped inside, and I wondered if she was who I thought she was. Teresa Young. She had to be.

“You asked for me, sir?” she asked, and Bracke nodded.

“Watch after Jess with Pierce,” he said, and I looked at the younger boy, comforted by the knowledge of his name.

The two replied instantaneously, “Yes, sir.”

Bracke’s eyes glanced over me one last time, and he dismissed himself, returning to Eric’s side. I held my breath, watching Camille as she walked across the room. She didn’t sit, and Pierce thumbed his fingers across his leg.

Neither of them spoke, but Camille’s dark eyes glided over me. She opened her mouth, sighed, and closed it again.

“What?” I asked, and she finally pulled a chair in front of me and sat down.

Her gaze flickered over my face. “Jessica, right?”

“Jess,” Pierce corrected, and I jumped, blinking at the green-eyed boy. He knew my nickname, the one everyone called me except Eric.

“How’d you know?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“Hayworth is a small town, Jess.”

I squinted at his facial features, trying to tear them apart, but he was unrecognizable. “I’ve never seen you before,” I said, and he shook his head.

“Shades don’t exactly walk around school like this.”

“Pierce,” Camille hissed, and I knew he’d given away his information.

He threw his hands in the air. “It’s kind of obvious if you ask me,” he said, but Camille’s glare didn’t shift.

I smiled, hoping to defuse the tension. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Pierce.”

He nodded. “Just wish it was under different circumstances.”

My eyes dropped to my lap. Eric. I’d caused the attack, but I felt as if I also saved them. Darthon had been beating them—destroying them—and he could’ve killed Eric if I hadn’t shown up. But Darthon wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t followed Eric in the first place. I didn’t know how to feel about it, but I definitely felt guilty.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and Camille groaned.

“This isn’t your fault,” she said, and I stared, unable to comprehend how her words could be truth. “You didn’t know, and neither did Eric,” she said. “The elders hid everything. Their decisions caused this, and they know it.”

I blinked, and Camille sighed, dropping her head. She grabbed her scalp, stomped her feet, and met my eyes again. “He really didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

“He told me a third descendant didn’t exist,” I said, and Pierce chuckled.

Camille smacked his leg, and he waved his hands in front of him. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just sort of ironic if you ask me.”

“No one asked you,” she said, and I curled my legs beneath me.

“I will,” I said, turning away from Camille to look at Pierce. “What’s going on?”

His shoulders rose, but he didn’t speak.

“Are you explaining this one?” Camille asked, and Pierce shook his head.

“I’d probably screw it up,” he said. “I’m still confused.”

I looked at Camille, and she rolled her eyes. I couldn’t believe how light-hearted they could be when Eric was suffering one room over. I wanted to ask how they could be so calm, but Camille began spewing out information. I bit my lip to prevent speaking.

She explained the prophecy—the entire prophecy—and didn’t hesitate about my part in it. “Eric left you to protect you,” she finished. “Even though his idiocy got him there in the first place.”

I couldn’t speak. Eric Welborn—Shoman—was supposed to love me? He was destined to find me? And I was his weakness?

“He’s kind of lucky,” Pierce said. “I wish I had a girl lined up.”

Camille smacked him again, and his green eyes widened. “What?” he asked. “It’s true.”

“And it came with a price,” she snapped, and I dug my nails into my legs.

“So my existence hurts him?” I asked, and the two quieted.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Camille spoke through her frown, but I knew it was a lie.

It was that bad. We could love each other, but we could die because of it. And the Light. They wanted me, and they could find either one of us if one of our identities were revealed.

“What do they want with me?” I asked, and Camille shook her head, the whiteness of her hair glittering in the room’s dim light.

“It’s referred to as absorbing, but we don’t even know what that means,” she said, leaning forward to lay her cold palm on my arm. “We only know it could alter the ending.”

“So Darthon would win,” I said, and Camille hesitated. She didn’t have to confirm my thoughts. She’d already told me.

I exhaled a shaky breath, and Pierce leaned his chair back. “Too bad Shoman’s the only one who can kill that son of a bitch,” he grumbled. “You would’ve solved all of our problems tonight if that wasn’t the case.”

Camille’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And we only learned that tonight.”

“You didn’t know?” I asked, and she played with the ends of her hair.

“No,” she said. “But they did.”

“So they know more than we do,” Pierce added.

“Which isn’t a good thing,” Camille said.

I stared at the floor. It was made from stone. The air was musty and smelled like dirt. I knew we were underground, but I didn’t even know where I was. Were my parents worried about me? I didn’t have my cellphone, but I was afraid to ask them for a phone. I doubted the Dark would be too excited about my adoption.

“Did Shoman ever give you a liquid to drink?” Camille asked, and I looked up at her.

My heart skipped, but I nodded, remembering Fudicia’s attack—something that seemed like child’s play compared to Darthon’s. “It took away my powers,” I said, and Camille leaned on her hand.

“Do you know why he did that?” she asked, and my body tensed as I remembered his words from the night he left me.

“I was poisoned,” I said, staring between the two. “Just like he is now.”

“See?” She grinned and lightly kicked my chair. “He’ll be fine, too.”

“At least no one will get caught in his explosion this time,” Pierce grumbled, and my neck whipped around. I gaped at him.

“He what?”

“That was so unnecessary, Pierce,” Camille said, rubbing her forehead before she explained. “He was poisoned that night, too, but he used his remedy on you.”

“So he took his powers out on me,” Pierce said, but his face lit up. “I was almost killed.”

My jaw dropped, and Camille stood, slapping the side of Pierce’s head. “That’s nothing to be proud of,” she said, rubbing her hands together like she’d hurt herself.

He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal now.”

“And Eric’s current injuries aren’t either,” Camille said, desperately trying to comfort me. She pointed to the door. “He’ll walk through there any minute.”

“He’ll walk out? On his own?” I could barely manage the questions. Everything seemed so unreal—so supernatural—and I had to remind myself that is was. We weren’t human. We never were.

“He wouldn’t heal so quickly if he’d let it attack his bloodstream for a day,” Camille said. “He was unconscious for a while last time.”

I sat up, nearly dropping my blanket. “He was unconscious last time?”

This time, Camille was the one to laugh. “If you’re going to be one of us, Jess,” she began. “I suggest you toughen up.”

Be one of them.
The words finally brought me the comfort I’d desired since moving to Hayworth: I was one of them—a shade—and I reveled in it. I could finally accept what—and who—I was. The third descendant, someone of power, of reason, of capability.

“Thank you,” I said, and Camille started to speak but stopped.

“I think you have a visitor,” she said, winking, and the door opened.

Luthicer and Urte were the first to appear. Eu and Bracke followed them, but the one I cared about most was in their shadows.

Eric’s brown hair was pressed against his forehead, dried to his skin from sweat, and his green eyes were fogged with drowsiness. His clothes were in bits, and his face was scratched, but he managed a smile when he met my eyes.

I leapt up, pushed through the crowd, and I was in his arms again.

He stumbled backward, but gained his footing and chuckled. “Hey,” he whispered, laying a hand on the top of my head.

As much as I hated to admit it, I started to cry. I sobbed, harder than I had in the past few days, and right in front of the ones I wanted to impress. I didn’t even care. All I cared about was Eric’s health, and he was fine—he was alive.

“I’m okay,” he said, and his hand stroked the back of my neck. “You’re okay. Everything is okay now.” He moved his hand to my chin and lifted my face to meet my eyes. He wiped my tears away with his thumb. “It’ll be all right, Jessica.”

I managed a nod before laying my cheek against his chest. My cold tears pressed against his clothes, and I sniffled to catch my breath. Eric’s hold tightened around my torso, and I could see why.

The others were gaping at us, unable to move or speak, and I realized what I hadn’t thought of before. The prophecy said Shoman would love me, but they hadn’t witnessed it. Now they had.

“I think it’s time I introduce Jessica,” Eric said, and a few managed an uncomfortable smile.

“You’re lucky she isn’t dead,” Luthicer muttered, crossing his elongated arms. “You’re lucky you’re both alive.”

“I know,” Eric said. “Thank you for your help, Luthicer. Really.”

The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t speak.

“So now what?” Pierce asked, breaking through the tension. “What’s next?”

“Everyone will have to stay here tonight,” Urte said. “Darthon left, but we don’t know where he is, and it’s too dangerous to leave until we’re sure he’s not coming back.”

I interjected, “But my parents—”

“Think you’re at Crystal’s house,” Eric said, and I stared at him.

“How?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Luthicer said, and I turned in time to witness his grin.

“He’s a half-breed, like Camille,”
Eric spoke to me in silence.
“He can create illusions. Your parents will never know.”

“Eric.” His father’s voice was full of scorn.

“Sorry,” Eric muttered, but he continued to speak to me.

“My father can tell when we’re using telepathy,”
he explained quickly.
“He thinks it’s rude.”

I blinked, trying to process the abundance of information, but it seemed impossible. I’d learned so much, and I’d expected none of it.

“But we have to figure out what to do with—er—Jess,” Eu said, flushing as he used my name. I imagined using someone’s human identity didn’t come naturally within the Dark’s walls.

“We have to do something,” Urte agreed. “She can’t stay here forever—not when the Light could break in at any moment.”

“We can’t even train her here,” Luthicer said. “It’d be risking too much.”

“I can already defend myself,” I said, and the others froze. They weren’t used to my input.

Eric rubbed my arm. “She’s stronger than Darthon; that’s for sure.”