Minutes Before Sunset (3 page)

She stood exactly where I saw her last—by the river. Her purple eyes widened as she dragged her fingers through the shadows, dissolving into smoke before reforming again. At first, she frowned, but then she smiled as she found a fluid motion in the darkness. 

I leaned against a tree and threw my senses out, letting her know I was near. She froze, and I stepped out, raising my hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, and she squinted.

“How do I know that?”

“You don’t,” I said.

She bit her lip, and the air filled with nervous electricity. She had no control. “How’d you know I was here?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Lucky guess,” I said. “I haven’t seen you anywhere else, so I figured this was my best bet.”

She leaned her back against the guardrail, folding her arms. “Why would you want to see me again?”

I gaped at her. How could she not know? I’d never seen her in our shelter, and that was against our ways. She was breaking our basic laws, and I wanted to know why before I turned her in.

“I want answers,” I said, and her face tilted.

“I thought I was the one who wanted answers.”

“About?”

“What is this?” she asked, raising her hands and waving the shadows around. Her voice was high, and her cheeks flushed as she rambled. “What the hell am I?”

My gut fell. She didn’t know—but how? That was impossible. Every shade was raised from birth with basic knowledge, and, looking at her age, she should’ve already had her powers and the prophecy memorized. This had to be a joke.

“What do you mean?” I asked, stepping forward, and she pointed at my feet.

“Stay there,” she said. She didn’t want me any closer than I had to be.

“Okay,” I said, holding my stance as I looked over her face. Her lips were bitten, and her eyes were red from tears. When she used her powers, her fingers shook, and she held them close to her body afterwards. She was scared.

“Is this a dream?” she asked, her voice trembling. “It’s happened before, but it was a dream, just a dream—”

I shook my head. “You’re not dreaming,” I said, unable to comprehend how she could be so oblivious. She had no clue what she was.

She turned away. I could hear her breath shift, shaking in the wind. Her shoulders hunched, and her face twisted.

“I can help you,” I said, hoping she’d let me approach.

Her purple eyes looked me up and down, and then she dropped her head. “Are you like me?” she asked, and I nodded, mirroring her staggered movements. Her eyes widened. “You are like me.”

“You’re a shade,” I said, searching her face. “Do you know what that is?” She shook her head, and I stepped forward. “Can we talk like civilized people?”

“Are we people?” she asked, and I chuckled. “It’s not funny,” she said, glaring, and I stifled my laugh.

“You’re right,” I said, stepping toward her again. She tensed, and I stopped, but then she waved me forward. Her violet eyes watched my every move until I leaned against the guardrail a yard away. She still needed her space.

I breathed in the frigid air and shoved my hands into my pockets. “You don’t know anything, do you?” I asked, meeting her eyes, but her expression was blank.

“Am I supposed to?” she asked, fiddling with her clothes, like she wasn’t used to them changing during the transformation. “I only learned this was real last night—when I saw you.”

My jaw dropped. “Last night?” My voice strained against my throat. “You’re supposed to know about this your entire life.”

“What?” she whispered, her breath stolen by the wind. “This has only been happening since—”

“Since what?”

She shook head, and I stepped in front of her, trying to meet her eyes. “Every shade is raised in the Dark and by the Dark with their mentors and their parents,” I said, hoping to spark a memory. Maybe she’d been separated or attacked by the Light. But she didn’t respond.

I ran a hand through my hair. “We’re given our powers at the Naming, and we’re waiting for the prophecy.” She blinked, and I fought the urge to shake her. “You have no clue what I’m talking about?”

She tilted her head and squinted. “You think?”

This was not good. If she was a shade, she was a part of the community. If she didn’t know the information she needed to, she wouldn’t understand the difference between the Light and the Dark, the lights and the shades. She would be easily influenced. She had no idea what kind of trouble she could be in.

“Who’s your mentor?” I asked.

“I don’t have one—”

“You have to,” I said, shaking my head. “Somebody—anybody must know you’re a shade.”

“I doubt my parents even know.”

“It runs in blood,” I said. “They’re shades.”

“No,” she said, her purple eyes burning into me. “They’re not.”

“They have to be—”

“They’re not like me,” she screamed, and I stepped backward, lifting my hands in front of me. I didn’t need her shouting at me; my ears were sensitive enough.

“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll figure this out.”

She raised her thin brow. “But this is normal?” she asked, staring at her foggy hands again. “These powers?”

I nodded. “They’re normal for shades, not humans.”

Her eyes widened, and her powers rose around her. “I’m not human?”

“Yes, you are,” I lied swiftly, calming her down. She couldn’t control her powers or emotions. I had to watch what I told her. “Shades are human, just in different forms.”

“And you?” she asked, her eyes fluttering over me. “You’re one of these shades?”

I nodded again, my black hair brushing against my forehead. “I’m Shoman.”

What the hell? My entire body froze. I never gave out my name. The prophecy already did—telling the naming of the first and second descendant: Shoman and Darthon. I can’t believe I just told her that. I wasn’t supposed to give it away so easily. Actually, I wasn’t supposed to give it away at all.

She smiled, completely unfazed by my information, and spoke, “My name is—”

“Don’t tell me,” I interrupted. “I can’t know your real name. Your identity is everything.”

She frowned. “Shoman isn’t your real name?”

“Of course not,” I said, bewildered by her reaction. She knew nothing of the prophecy. “I was Named—and you should’ve been too.”

She smirked. “By a prophecy?” she asked, fighting a fit of giggles. “This has to be a dream.”

I touched her arm, and she whipped around automatically, latching her nails into my wrist. I winced, and she glared, her powers vibrating through my blood. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I said, cringing, and she threw my arm away.

“Then don’t touch me,” she said, stepping backward, and I glared back at her.

“I was trying to make a point,” I said, laying my hand out. She stared at my palm. “Go ahead; touch it.”

“Why?” she asked, and I groaned.

“Just do it.”

She bit her lip, stepped forward, and, slowly, she laid her shaky hand on mine. I exhaled, concentrating. Soon, my power flowed through her veins. I could feel it—her—and all her fear, panic, and rage. She truly was oblivious. In turn, I exposed myself to her—showing the serious honesty I felt. If she was an abandoned shade, she was in danger, and she needed my protection.

She yanked her hand back and hugged herself, shaking her head. “What was that?”

“Proof you’re not dreaming,” I said. “You can’t deny touch.”

“I can deny anything I want,” she said, and I shook my head.

“Not this.” I leaned over and caught her gaze. “You need to trust me, or you could end up dead; do you understand that?”

Her face twisted. “No one’s going to kill me for hanging out by a river at night.”

“A light will,” I said, knowing how dangerous it was to be a shade, let alone an abandoned one. Her kind was in the middle of war, and she had no idea she was a target.

She paled. “There are more of us?”

“Lights are nothing like us. They’re our enemies.” I strained through the conversation. “But, yes, there is a whole community of shades—”

She lit up. “Can I meet them?”

“No.”
Because they’ll kill you for being an intruder.
“Not yet.”

Her chest sunk beneath her black sweater. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” I promised, grabbing her hand and allowing the energy to flow between us. She was electrifying—more powerful than any other shade I knew—yet she was naïve, and her lack of knowledge made her dangerous. How could she be so strong?

She gaped at our touch but didn’t move away. “I don’t know how I can learn without meeting others.”

“Because you don’t need them,” I said, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You have me. I’ll be your mentor.”

One week passed without much change. In homeroom, I tapped my pencil against the black lab desk and waited for lunchtime. After that, I’d go home and train, but today I only wanted to sit outside in the warming weather. Last week it had snowed, yet it felt like spring outside today. Midwest weather was completely unpredictable and probably the most change I got on a day-to-day basis.

Staring at the clock, I felt like fifth hour would never end. It was the beginning of second semester, and the teacher was already changing all her rules and lab partners. Personally, I enjoyed the lab system that she had: work alone and work quiet. Then, she started watching
Dr. Phil
, believed children’s communication skills were dying, and felt the need to force us all to become the best
of friends.

How adorable.

To get us to bond, she assigned a partner project—with a science theme, of course—and it had to be completed in a month. No exceptions. Ms. Hinkel passed out an array of notebooks, full of rules, and then she called out the groups’ names.

“Christina Hutchins and Robb McLain, Lab 5,” Ms. Hinkel said, and a thin girl with thick, white hair stood up in protest.

“My name is Crystal,” she said between smacks of her gum.

She changed her name before she even got into first grade. I remembered, because she hated the fact that her mother named her without permission, even though Crystal couldn’t talk. I could talk when the Dark named me Shoman, and I still had no say. I envied Crystal’s abilities to fight, but her stubbornness caused a lot of disciplinary trouble.

She and Robb stared at the station only a few feet away from me, and Ms. Hinkel moved on to the other students. No one was allowed to move from their seats until the teacher finished.

“Annie Lockman and Justin Paul, Lab 8,” she said, causing a boy behind me to jump out of his much-needed sleep. He had started to snore, and his breath on my back was definitely not appreciated.

“Jessica Taylor and Eric Welborn,” she droned on, and I didn’t bother looking for my lab partner.

She was the new girl, and I already knew what she looked like. She had thick, curly brown hair, light blue eyes, and she was always trailing after Robb or Crystal. Instead of staring, I concentrated on my hearing and opened it up to the room. I could hear everything—texting, breathing, gum chewing. The little noises were the ones that bothered me, which was why I used music to drown it all out.

Crystal was easy to signal out. She was always chewing on her gum, and she smacked it as she tapped my partner’s shoulder. “That sucks, Jess,” she whispered, and Jessica’s hairspray crinkled as she turned her head.

“Why?” Jessica Taylor—or Jess—had a higher voice than I expected. “He looks nice.”

Robb laughed. “He’s not.”

Crystal hummed in agreement. “He’s a freak.”

Jessica gulped. “He doesn’t seem like one—”

“That’s because you don’t know him,” Crystal said, explaining the truth. She and Robb had been my best friends since birth, except I hadn’t talked to them since freshman year—not since the accident.

“Now he only talks to Teresa Young,” Robb finished, and Jessica turned her face, looking around the room.

“Who’s Teresa?” she asked, and I felt her eyes on my back. I looked the other way. I didn’t want them thinking I was eavesdropping, but, then again, I was halfway across the room.

“Some family friend,” Robb said. “She’s always around him; it’s weird.”

“Maybe they’re dating,” Jess said, and I cringed, fighting the urge to shake my head.
Gross.

Crystal laughed hysterically, covering her mouth to smother the sound. “They’re definitely not dating. I already looked into it for a possible rumor piece, and there’s no way.”

“Then why would he only talk to her?” Jess asked, and Crystal inhaled, her breath whizzing past her lip piercing.

“She’s been stuck on him since his mother died,” she said.

Robb huffed. “Both of them lived with me for a while after, but we were just kids.”

“What happened?” Jess asked, dropping her voice.

Crystal’s nails ran along the lab desk. “Have you heard of Hayworth Park?” Jessica didn’t respond, and Crystal sighed. “Of course not.”

I heard her shift in her chair, and I knew the group was staring at me again. “His mother committed suicide there, and his father bought the land afterward,” Crystal explained. “He shut the whole thing down; he won’t let anybody in.”

Jessica gasped, and I couldn’t help but turn around. Her blue eyes met mine, and she turned away, completely scarlet. “Why?” she asked, not specifying whether she was asking about my mother’s suicide or my father’s actions.

“Because he wants us to be miserable like him?” Crystal guessed, choosing which way the conversation would go. “Who knows? He’s crazy.”

“But what does his father have to do with him?” Jess asked, and I gripped my legs beneath the table. No one had asked that before
.
Instead, they looped us together, and I didn’t stand a chance.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Crystal said, allowing her words to linger. “But Eric doesn’t have the best track record with sanity either.”

Robb’s chair scraped against the tile floor as he pushed it against Jess’ desk. “When we were freshman, Eric was dating this girl—Hannah Blake—right?” he began, and my entire body froze.
No one talked about it. Not even me.

“Well,” Robb continued. “She was in a car wreck with him and died. He walked away scot free.”

“And,” Crystal added. “The accident happened under suspicious circumstances.”

Jess held her breath and whispered, “What kind of suspicious circumstances?”

“Hell if I know,” Crystal said, hitting the desk. “Suspicious is enough for me.”

“It should be for you too, Jess,” Robb said, and Ms. Hinkel cleared her throat, glaring in their direction.

“Are you all done or should I wait?”

They apologized, and I zoned out as all the students rushed to their new lab assignments. I didn’t need to move. I was already in my spot.

The chair next to me scraped back, and Jess sat down, tossing her bag onto the table. Her cheeks were red, and I could practically hear her nervous heart beating. “Hi,” she said, turning briefly toward me to smile. “I’m Jess.”

She offered her hand for a handshake, and I pushed my chair against the wall. “I heard your name when Ms. Hinkel assigned you,” I said, opening the chemistry book left on my desk from the previous period. I was not interested in small talk.

“Right,” Jess said, letting her hand fall into her lap. She had small hands. “So, Eric—”

“Call me Welborn.”
Even though you stood up for me, I am not your friend.

She nodded, raising her brow. “If that’ll make things easier for you, Welborn, then fine.”

I fought a grin. At least she had attitude.

She adjusted her chair, and my eyes shot to the class clock. “So, Welborn—”

Ring. Ring.

Lunchtime. Right on time.

I rushed out of the classroom to the outside lunchroom as quickly as I could. I did not need to talk to Jessica Taylor. She’d give up trying soon enough. Everyone did.

I climbed up the hill and leaned against the willow tree, placing my hands behind my head as I listened to the leaves brush against one another. The warming weather glided across my skin, and birds were actually outside today. It’d only be a few more months until school ended and summer came. Normally, I’d look forward to the prolonged freedom that came with summer, but this time I’d be too busy training to have any free time.

I peered down at the outside cafeteria. Students were everywhere, yet I didn’t see my new lab partner. Maybe I was a little harsh
.
I fiddled with my headphones and put them on, but kept the music off. She hadn’t associated my dad’s madness with me—but, then again, she had pried into my life, and I didn’t like that.
And she wasn’t the nameless shade.

I thought about the night before. The girl was so innocent, so oblivious to everything, and she was afraid. I would have to be careful around her. I needed her to trust me, not to turn against me, and if she really was abandoned, she needed my help.

The idea of being raised outside the Dark community intrigued me. If I had been separated from the Dark, the prophecy would be different. I wouldn’t be Shoman. I would be Eric. Just Eric. And no one could tell me what I was expected to do.

“Shoman
.
”
Camille’s voice dimmed my thoughts, and my eyes popped open.
“Turn around.”

I took off my headphones and spun my torso toward the valley. A girl with short black hair waved as she trudged up the hill toward me. “Teresa?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s a nice way of saying hi,” she said, leaning against the willow with her arms crossed. She laughed lightly, and her eyes darted across the valley, staring over the entire town. Willow Tree Mountain, even though it was a hill, was the tallest point in Hayworth.

“Nice view,” I said. “Do you remember watching the fireworks up here?”

“The willow tree was smaller then,” she said, running her hand across the bark. “It was healthier, too.”

“It’s almost been twelve years,” I said.

“I know.” She pushed off the tree and pointed at the nearest street. “We have to go.”

“But—”
Was I seriously arguing?
“I still have school left.”

She waved a piece of pink and yellow paper. “I already got you a pass.”

“I can’t argue that,” I said, grabbing my bag and taking the pass. “Let’s get out of here.”