Death Before Daylight (22 page)

“As quiet as this place is, the sounds break
into my office.” He pointed at the left wall. “I was just glad it
wasn’t screaming for once.”

“Screaming?”

“Pierce. Urte, too.” Luthicer shrugged. “Your
father practically lived here last week.” He didn’t have to clarify
that it was when Jessica and I were in the Light realm. “The other
half-breeds come here, too. They looked up to her a lot.”

I hadn’t even thought about all the other
lives Camille touched. She was Luthicer’s student, but he had
dozens, and she had helped them just as much.

“She was a remarkable person,” Luthicer
said.

I nodded. “Camille was stronger than anyone
else I knew.” Including me. I remembered every time I had pushed
her away, too many times to count throughout childhood. “I didn’t
deserve her as a guard.”

Luthicer drew in a breath. “Do you know who
chose her to be your guard?”

“No.” My throat hurt, but for once, it wasn’t
from Darthon’s spell. I was still fighting my pain. “But I’m
guessing you do.”

“Do you want to know?”

I stared at my reflection as I nodded.

“Your mother.”

When I turned to the elder, he shifted back.
His elongated nails scratched the floor when he moved, and
goosebumps traveled up my arms as I folded them across my chest. My
voice vibrated against my sternum when I asked, “She did?” I didn’t
have a singular memory of my mother with Camille.

The elder removed his nails from the floor
only to comb his beard. “I had just arrived myself.” His knuckles
went white when he gripped his facial hair. “A part of me wonders
if her parents didn’t abandon her at all.”

My chest tightened. I knew Luthicer’s story.
He left the Light to protect his daughter, but he had killed a
dozen lights in order to do it. If his sleeves hadn’t been long, I
would’ve been able to see his scars. “You killed her parents.”

The skin around Luthicer’s cheeks crinkled.
“I can’t be certain,” he said, “but I was going to tell her when
everything was over.” He only let go of his beard to touch her
stone. “I suppose a lot of things went unsaid.”

“Like what?”

He hung his head. “When she arrived at the
shelter, I was one of the elders who voted for her
abandonment.”

Ostracization. It was rarely performed, but
it did happen. Before I could question why he wanted to decide that
fate for Camille, he continued, “Your mother was the only one to
vote against it.” The side of his face lifted. “Evaline was a very
persuasive person when she wanted to be.”

Evaline. It was her Dark name. She was born
Kimberly Smith, and she was reborn Evaline when she was thirteen at
the Naming. Those two facts were among the only things I knew about
her.

“I don’t remember her very well,” I
confessed, knowing I could count my memories of her on one hand.
The time she showed me the bats was the most prominent one.

“You were kids when she died,” Luthicer said
it without the singular word I expected to hear. Suicide. She shot
herself in the head. Died instantly, according to the autopsy
report. I had a copy stashed in my desk, and now, it rested under
Abby’s portrait. Two of the three women I had lost.

“She took Camille in herself,” he said, but
his voice rose and dropped as his tone shook. “We tried to tell her
not to, but she didn’t believe in abandoning children.”

I huffed. “Aside from me.”

“Maybe she didn’t.”

My mouth snapped open to yell at him, to
scream, to accuse him of crossing a line, but the expression that
clouded his vision halted me. His eyes weren’t light eyes. They
were flickering to brown. His human side was peeking through, and
he laid a hand on his forehead to cover his irises.

“Do you remember the necklace Camille gave
you?” His whisper was only audible due to the marble. It hissed
into an undeniable echo.

He didn’t have to ask me. The elixir in the
willow tree pendant had saved Jessica’s life after Fudicia had
attacked her. “How could I forget?” A chuckle escaped me when I
recalled how I had dropped it during a flight. Luthicer accused me
of breaking the rules. I had hated him back then.

“That jewelry was special,” he said. “That
power was special.”

“I know.” Being able to imbed a spell in
liquid was unique. That was the singular reason Luthicer had caught
us. He knew Camille was the only one who could’ve made it, and he
figured out she would only give it to me. “You nearly terrorized me
because of it.”

Luthicer wasn’t laughing. “Your mother taught
Camille how to do that.”

My breath caught itself.

“Your mother taught Camille more than I did,”
he continued, “and if I had to bet, she had enchanted more pieces
than just a necklace.” His fingers flicked over, but it was enough.
He was pointing to my ring. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had
it, you know.”

I searched my memories, but nothing came.

“Your mother gave you hers the night she
died.”

My hand stretched out in front of me, but I
couldn’t picture it in my hands as a child. I only remembered the
night she showed me the bats, and the memory was clouded by the
time I took Jessica to see them.

“She always wanted you to have them,” he
said. “Your father only held them for you until you were old
enough.”

The elders knew about the rings just like
they had known about the prophecy. It was the singular rule the
prophecy had proven to be true. My love for the third descendant,
for Jessica, was unbreakable.

“Maybe waiting was a mistake,” he
finished.

The sapphires had once glowed, but now they
were dim, even in the candlelight. My ring seemed to be an ordinary
jewel—nothing more than a family heirloom—but every person I knew
appeared to be human until they transformed. My necklace had been
ordinary until it wasn’t. Everything around me was special. My ring
wasn’t an exception to the rule.

“Maybe that jewelry,” Luthicer said and
hesitated. “Maybe it’s the only reason you are alive.”

I leapt to my feet, and Luthicer mirrored me.
It was only then that I realized I was in a fighting stance. My
body had taken over. Luthicer’s sleeves had fallen when he raised
his arms, and his white scars radiated in the darkness. I dropped
my hands, and so did he.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered as my mind raced. The
information was overwhelming.

Luthicer’s breath was loud as it expelled
from his lungs, but he calmed down as he rolled his sleeves down.
When he leaned forward, he used the cloth to clean Camille’s grave.
I had left smudges where I had hit it.

His eyes met mine in the clean reflection.
“You died in the Light realm, didn’t you?”

I stepped back. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He spun around, his
height towering over me. “Shades cannot live there, and half-breeds
only can when Darthon allows it.” That was why Camille had probably
died. “But you didn’t die. Not entirely.”

I did die. I succumbed to darkness over and
over again. They melded together, and they brought my breath back
every moment after. Darthon hadn’t been able to kill me, but he
thought it was Jessica who was protecting me. That was why he
wanted to separate us. But it was the ring.

It was my mother.

But it was more than that. It was the
connection Darthon wanted to sever. If Luthicer was right—if the
jewelry had kept me alive—then, Jessica’s ring was a part of the
spell. That meant one thing. If she wasn’t wearing her ring,
Darthon could kill me.

When I started to leave, Luthicer grabbed my
arm. “I know you didn’t know your mother, but she loved you very
much.” His nails dug into my bicep, and I knew he thought I was
focused on my mother’s death instead of my life. “And I think you
need to talk to your father about it.”

Darthon had thought the same thing.

I pulled away from Luthicer’s grasp. “I’m not
sure how to talk to him.”

“Just talk,” he said, like it was a simple
thing. “Parents are supposed to be there for that sort of
thing.”

I whipped around to face him. “Are you there
for Jada?”

His eyes widened, and then softened in
seconds. “So, you figured it out.”

“Wasn’t that hard to guess.” Jada was his
daughter. “Where’s her mother?”

“We divorced when Jada was born,” he
explained. “Much like Urte’s situation.”

I tried to picture the elders as young men,
the years of marriages, births, divorces, and deaths I had missed.
But nothing came.

“It isn’t an easy thing,” he spoke, “letting
someone you love go.”

“Are you talking about yourself or me?”

“Love is like coping, Eric.” For once,
Luthicer smiled. “It’s a daily adventure, and some days are easier
than others, but,” he paused, “there’s always another day to do it
again.”

He began to leave, but I was the one to stop
our separation this time. “She took off her ring.”

Since I couldn’t talk to her, I needed
someone else to tell her to put it back on. I wanted Luthicer to do
it, but he laughed. “Even I thought you would have noticed the
necklace.”

“Necklace?”

He pointed to his neck. “It’s new.” He had to
say Jessica’s name for me to understand what I had missed. “I
imagine she has something hanging from it.”

I stared at the man. “You didn’t notice that
on your own.”

“Someone might have tipped me off.”

Who it could’ve been was beyond me, but that
didn’t matter. Jessica was still wearing the ring, and that meant
our connection wasn’t severed like I thought it had been. Darthon
couldn’t kill me. Not as long as my mother’s spell worked.

“That reminds me of others things I heard,”
he said and began to walk toward the exit. “Abby’s portrait.”

“I’ll return it.”

“Keep it.” He lingered at the entrance, but I
couldn’t see his face. He was a silhouette against the bright
hallway. Only his white hair glowed. “Remember how many people
we’ve lost for this, Eric,” he said. “Don’t become the next
memorial.”

30

It only took two hours to pack my clothes.
The Dark promised to get the rest, and my parents had gone out to
dinner while I collected my things. Luthicer would meet them when
they came home. He would put an illusion on them and remove it when
the danger was over—whenever that happened. No one could estimate a
timeline. I even packed my summer clothes, but I hadn’t expected
Bracke to pick me up.

We didn’t speak until we walked through four
corridors of the shelter. “Here’s your room.” He used his shoulder
to open the door, and the wood creaked as if it hadn’t been used
since the place was built.

While he lugged in two of my duffel bags, I
stood in the doorway. The room was larger than I was expecting, but
it was also colder. The square space held a desk, wardrobe, and
bed. A queen mattress rested on a black frame, and the headboard
was decorated with ivy etchings. But only one thing caught my full
attention. A painting easel sat by the desk. Pierce. He must have
brought it. I shoved it out of my mind to ask Bracke the one
question on my mind since arriving.

“Where’s his room?” I didn’t have to clarify
who I was talking about.

“The other side.” Bracke placed my bags on my
bed.

“How far away is the other side?”

“Far.”

I leaned against the wall to prevent myself
from stepping into the hallway. Despite all the time I trained in
the shelter, it was bigger than I realized. It probably took up
half of Hayworth’s underground, and I imagined the Dark had shades
in the city council that allowed it to happen. The entire town held
secrets.

“I know you don’t like this, Jess, and I’m
sorry.” My bed creaked when Bracke sat down on the mattress. “This
is my fault, and I hope you don’t hate me for it.” He laid his
forearms on his knees. “I already think of you as a daughter.” His
words made me bite my lip. “Perhaps that’s why I’m selfish when it
comes down to protecting you both.”

My gaze moved over the man who had once been
so cold about Eric. When I met him, he questioned why I would even
want to work with his son. I hadn’t understood their circumstances
then, but I did now. Eric’s father wasn’t cold at all. He was the
opposite. He was protective.

When I didn’t speak, Bracke stood up. “I made
sure your parents get the best treatment possible—”

“Did you know my parents?” I interrupted
before he could consider leaving.

Bracke’s eyes widened. “Your biological
ones?”

I nodded.

He leaned against the bedposts. “You must
know by now—”

“They were in the Light,” I confirmed without
telling him Fudicia’s parents had been the murderers.

Bracke’s brow furrowed. “But we were the ones
to save you that day.”

It was everything I suspected, but hearing it
out loud was different. My back slid against the wall as I sat on
the floor next to the bags I had carried. “I want to know
everything.”

“Originally, we thought they were attacking
our own,” he said without hesitation. The elders meant it when they
agreed to tell us the truth now. “When we realized they were
attacking lights.” He sighed. “We figured out who you were.”

“How?” As a baby, I wouldn’t have had a Name.
“You wouldn’t have known until Shoman was Named—”

“Instincts,” he interrupted. “We think the
mothers knew when the children were born.” His expression twisted.
“When Eric was born, we reminded Kim it wasn’t for certain.” Kim
was Eric’s mother. “But that wasn’t enough for her.”

It wasn’t enough for my parents either. I
knew that was why they ran. It was also the reason they were
killed. But I didn’t have a reason for the Dark’s final
decision.

“Why didn’t you keep me?” I asked.

Bracke’s wrinkles stiffened into hard lines.
“My wife,” he paused. “She—she struggled. A lot.” He didn’t have to
remind me of her death.