Minutes Before Sunset (4 page)

“I told you he was weird,” Crystal said as we walked to lunch.

Robb rested his arm on my shoulder. “Your grade is over, Jess.”

“No,” I said, glaring at Eric’s back as he rushed outside. “My grade is going to be perfect, whether he likes it or not.”

After all, my grades needed to be perfect, if I had any chance at finding my biological parents. I didn’t care if Eric Welborn had a rough life or not. His problems weren’t mine, and I wasn’t going to let him impose them on me.

“Good luck with that, Jess,” Crystal said, looping her arm through mine as we walked outside. Strangely, it was nice out, and we sat at the first table we passed. The outdoor lunchroom was squared-in by brick walls. On one side, the front of school teased our desire for freedom, while the other side stretched into a large hill.

The hill was huge, and an enormous willow tree loomed over the side. As the wind blew, branches swayed, sprawling dancing shadows over the dying grass. The tree was remarkable—breathtaking even—but it was secluded, aside from the boy leaning against it.

Crystal rolled her eyes in his direction. “He always sits up there.”

“By himself?” I asked. She nodded, and I bit my lip, unable to look away.

Eric Welborn, with his eyes closed and his headphones on, leaned against the tree as if he were a part of it. His brown hair matted against the bark, melting into the color, and his eyes fluttered as he opened them, staring at the shadows. Even from a distance, I could see his shoulders tense, and I fought the urge to go to him.

For the first time, I actually felt sympathy toward him.

“It looks cold,” I said.
He looks lonely.

“Who cares?” Robb shrugged, barely looking over as a girl appeared from the other side of the hill. Immediately, the two began talking, and I peered at the unfamiliar face.

“Who’s that?” I asked, tapping Crystal’s arm.

Crystal’s dark eyes squinted. “That’s Teresa Young—the girl we told you about.”

“They’re obsessed with one another,” Robb said, pulling his lunch out of his backpack. “I swear they have something going on.”

“They don’t,” Crystal said.

Robb bit into his sandwich. “I bet they do,” he said, singing as he leaned into Crystal. He was just trying to annoy her.

I turned away from my friends and kept my gaze on my homeroom partner. Both Eric and Teresa looked downhill, and then Teresa waved a piece of paper at him. He spoke, and he grabbed his stuff, disappearing down the other side.

He did not just leave me to handle class on my own.

I gripped the table, and Crystal sighed, leaning her entire torso on the table. “Did you guys want to do anything tonight?” she asked. “I’m about to go crazy.”

“Not at my house,” Robb said.

Crystal cringed. “Don’t worry; I wasn’t planning on it.” She turned to me. “My mom should be home late. You guys could come over.”

“Sounds good to me.” Robb’s eyes lit up. “I’m sure I could get away from the ‘rents for a while.”

“Your parents are way too strict,” Crystal said, smacking her gum. Apparently, she didn’t eat lunch.

“That’s exactly why we don’t go to my place,” he said, allowing his gaze to land on me. “You coming?”

I shook my head. “I can’t,” I said, trying to ignore the pressures of my school project. “I have plans.”

Crystal flipped a pen around her fingers, a nervous habit. “With who?”

“Me, of course,” Robb said, winking his brown eyes.

Crystal punched his arm. “You wish,” she said, and I laughed.

“It isn’t with Robb,” I clarified. “I have family stuff I have to figure out.” Like my biological parents.

“I thought you were going to get a head start on your project,” Crystal said. “You know you’ll have to do it all by yourself, right?”

Robb straightened up. “I could help you.”

“It’s okay,” I said, standing up as the return bell rang. “I’ll get Eric to talk to me.”

Crystal laughed but ultimately nodded. “Good luck with that, Jess.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.
I’ll probably need it.

Teresa was lying on my bed, her black hair spilling off the side. She tapped her painted nails against her stomach, and I watched her, unsure of why she dragged me out only to read Mindy’s magazines in my room.

“What’s this about, Camille?”

“A lot.” She sighed and flipped the page. “The elders have me practicing my Light powers.” She cringed. “I’m really uncomfortable with it.”

I frowned. Camille never talked about her Light side. “Why’s it uncomfortable?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, changing her mind as she stared at me upside down. “But there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

I laid my chin on my hands. “So talk about it.”

“Jonathon told me your father forced you to bond with Noah and Mindy last night,” she said, sitting up to catch my eyes. “How’d that go?”

“Okay,” I shrugged, relying on my remarkable lying skills. “I still don’t like them though.”

She lifted her thin, black eyebrows. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

Did she know?
I locked my jaw.
There was no possible way. She couldn’t.

“No.”

Her expression fell, and she shook her head back and forth. “Eric,” she sighed. “Your father told me you went out with Pierce last night, but it’s obvious you didn’t go.”

I tensed. “Did you tell him?”

“No.” She glared and waved her hands in the air. “But why’d you do it? Don’t you know how dangerous it is for you to go out, let alone by yourself?”

She didn’t know about the girl.

“I know, Camille,” I said, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned. “Did you activate anything?”

“You would’ve felt it if I did,” I said, unable to make eye contact. By being the first descendant, I inherited stronger, more reliable powers. My favorite one was my sword, but I could never use it unless I was in a secure room in the shelter. The Light could track it, and they would kill me when they did.

I hadn’t used my descendant powers outside the shelter in years.

“I stayed out of sight last night,” I said, dragging my fingers through my hair. “I promise.”

She widened her blue eyes. “They’d blame me if you got killed.”

“But I didn’t get killed,” I said, grabbing the edge of the bed. “And nothing happened. I was safe. I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
Except talk to a nameless shade.

Camille—in Teresa form—flickered from her emotions. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore,” she said, and I groaned, staring at the ceiling.

“I just need to get out more,” I said. “At home, I’m stuck as a human, and I’m stuck in the prophecy at the shelter.”

“Because you’re the first descendant, Shoman,” Teresa yelled, using my shade name without thinking. “You need to be able to handle it.”

“How can I when I’m protected all the time?” I asked, glaring at my guard. “I can’t even practice my powers without the Light tracking me. I have a year until this battle, and, at this rate, we are going to lose.”

Camille quieted, and I hung my head, shaking it back and forth and regretting my honesty. “In my mind,” I said. “I have a year to live.”

Silence spilt between us, and I lifted my head as my guard laid a hand on my shoulder. She managed a smile. “I’m doing my best to understand you—you’re like a little brother to me—but I don’t want you to get hurt or killed.”

“I know.”

“That being said,” she continued, winking. “If you want a little more freedom, I won’t follow you around as much.”

I shot up. “Are you being serious?”

Her small smile spread into a grin. “I’ll only come when you call me.”

I squinted at her. “But why?”

She shrugged. “If it means winning the Marking of Change, then I don’t have much of a choice,” she said. “But—” She shook her thin finger at me. “You have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said.

Camille held up a necklace with a black tree pendant swinging on the bottom. “There’s a remedy inside this,” she said, twisting the top before pulling down the stump. A dark liquid waved inside the branches.

“It’ll heal any Light spell,” Camille said, closing it. “Luthicer and I made it last night.”

Luthicer was the only half-breed elder in the Dark, and he taught Camille everything she knew. Personally, I hated him. He was a prick—always trying to make me look incompetent as the first descendant. In his opinion, surely, there was a mistake.

I grabbed the pendant from her and stared at the black liquid inside. “What do you want me to do with this?” I asked, and she straightened up, beaming.

“Wear it at all times,” she said, and I nodded instantaneously.

“It’s a deal.”

“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 have 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.”