Death Before Daylight (31 page)

40

I was only five yards away from the shelter
when I saw him. Darthon was standing by the edge of the river—next
to the railing where I had first met Jessica—but he wasn’t in his
light form. He was Robb, and I was Eric. We were both humans, and I
knew why. The Dark could sense him if he were a light. As Robb, he
wouldn’t even hit their radar.

I froze, but his stare was already on me. He
even knew what direction I would be coming from. He was waiting.
“Eric.”

Every part of me told me to run, but I
didn’t. I stood my ground. The forest was my territory. Not his. He
could take a part of my freewill away, but he wouldn’t take
everything. Not Jessica. Not my place. Not my life. I wouldn’t die
as long as we had our rings on.

“Go ahead and scream,” he said. “Call for
your elders. Call for your guard.”

His words were empty because they were dead.
He had killed Camille, his people had killed Eu, and he was here to
kill me, even though he couldn’t.

“I guess your date didn’t go well,” I
said.

He walked toward me, and right when I thought
he would hit me, he threw something at me. It hit me in the face
before I realized what it was. Jessica’s necklace. The chain that
held her ring no longer hung on her neck.

“Why is she wearing it?” he growled. “I told
you to stay away from her—”

“I have been,” I snapped. As I picked it up
off the ground, my fingers shook. If it wasn’t on her, she had
taken it off. The reason I had almost succumbed to darkness was
clearing. In the human realm, the spell wasn’t as strong. I would
die if she simply took off her ring. Darthon didn’t even have to
try to kill me.

I slid the chain into my pocket. Knowing she
must have put it back on was my only comfort, but my biggest worry
stood right in front of me. Whether Robb had figured it out or not
was still a mystery.

“Take your ring off,” he barked.

“No.”

He punched me, and I stumbled back. Even
though he was a human, he was fast. Just as fast as me. He had
trained in both forms, too.

“Take it off, Welborn.”

I rubbed my face, but I kept stepping back.
He followed me. “I gave you an order.”

“You can’t force me,” I growled.

“I own you.”

“You control my voice,” I said back. “Not my
physical movements.” My hands rose in front of my chest. I would
fight him. Unlike me, he could die, and all I needed was a moment
like this—clouded in darkness, we could both have powers. “You sure
you’re not the one who should be calling your elders?”

He didn’t step toward me. “I came on my
own.”

If he had brought lights with him, the Dark
would’ve sensed it, but I didn’t believe him. There had to be
others waiting nearby. Other humans waiting to transform.

“Where are Linda and Zac?” I asked, but I
didn’t dare search the trees with my eyes. If I didn’t look at him,
he would attack. “You don’t fight alone. Not in this world.”

Robb didn’t argue.

“You can take me back to your realm,” I
suggested. “Go ahead. See if anything changes.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he snapped, “and if I
don’t, I’ll just kill her instead.”

His words were the opposite of what they
should’ve been. He wanted to threaten me when he had told me
everything I needed to know. He still didn’t know the jewelry kept
me alive. He only thought it kept Jessica’s powers tied to the
Dark.

“I felt it,” he said. “She took it off, and I
felt it.” He took a step toward me. “Her powers. They shifted when
it was off. It’s stopping her from coming to me—”

“She’s never going to come to you,” I
interrupted.

When I took a step toward him, he froze. “You
can’t fight me.”

“I can,” I said because I knew he wouldn’t
kill Jessica. “And I will.”

“I gave you orders—”

“And I haven’t broken them yet,” I pointed
out, never dropping my hands. Every part of me wanted to transform,
but the smallest slice of my soul held me back. If I transformed,
he would, and it would be war. The shelter wouldn’t even have time
to prepare. More people would die. I needed to get Darthon alone,
and I needed him to be as far away from the shelter as
possible.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” I suggested.
“Battle this out for good.”

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth
shook. When a breeze passed between us, he actually looked away
from me—toward the woods, toward the place I was sure his comrades
were hiding. “Have you spoken to your father yet?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And I don’t care.”

His face was as red as his jacket. “They lied
to you.”

“People lie for a reason.” In all the years I
thought my dad had hated my existence, I now knew my dad had tried
to protect me, even though he couldn’t. “I stand by their
decisions.”

His fists curled as he raised them, and his
shoulders broadened. I half-expected him to transform, but he
didn’t. “I’m not going to lose this, Welborn.”

“You need Jessica to win,” I pointed out,
“and she’s figuring you out on her own, Robb.” I used his name to
emphasize his identity. “She only went out with you to test you
guys.”

It was the last sentence that did it. He shot
forward, and punches were thrown. When he hit me, a pain seethed
down my neck, but my fist landed on his jaw. We stumbled back, only
to move forward again. In seconds, we were on the ground, and a
tangy liquid filled my mouth.

Blood.

I didn’t bother to breathe as I hit his ribs,
and he reacted by kicking my shin. We scrambled against the cold
grass, and dirt flew up as we stood, only to fall again. It was the
fall he took advantage of.

His fingers wrapped through my hair, and he
slammed my face into the ground. His foot was on my back before I
could even fight back. “Why you?” he screamed at the back of my
head. “What’s so great about you?”

My cheek burned as I squirmed beneath
him.

“You’re pathetic.”

Robb had trained more as a human than I had.
I knew that now. My spine stung as he twisted my head. He was
attempting to break my neck, but it didn’t work. I swung my arm up
and held my head in place. Urte had taught me more defense than
anything.

Robb’s breathing was all I could hear as he
tried again. Every part of me hurt.

“You can’t kill me,” I seethed, and blood
escaped my mouth. It mixed with the dirt.

“Go ahead. Transform.” His voice was ear
splitting. “Declare war.”

He wanted the blood to be on my hands.

I squirmed under his foot, unable to gain
control again, but I wouldn’t do what he said. I wouldn’t allow any
more of my people to die, but for once, I didn’t want more of his
people to die either. If Jessica was one of them, if Luthicer and
Camille had been a part of the Light, then I didn’t want anyone to
die. I only wanted Robb to see it, too.

“Why don’t you do it?” He let go of my head,
only to kick me in the back of it. “Do it, Welborn. Just do
it.”

“Why don’t you?” I formed a response before
he slammed his foot into my ribs. I braced for another, but he
didn’t kick me again. The ground shifted as he stepped away.

Thinking it was my only chance to gain
control, I rolled over, but Robb wasn’t in a fighting stance. He
was walking away.

“That’s it?” I called after him as I stumbled
to my feet. Even my knees were weak. “You’re giving up?”

“Far from it,” he said and continued toward
the trees. “You have company.”

Before I could chase him, a beam of
light—brighter than the sun—shot out of him, and he transported
away. Robb used his powers, and his force vibrated through the
trees. The Dark would know he was here, and he wasn’t even trying
to hide it.

That’s when I heard it.

“Eric!” Jessica’s voice.

She was running toward me, but she was too
far away to see what had happened. Darthon wasn’t giving up. He
still wanted her, and he wanted me to know it.

41

Eric was bleeding, and he spat out more blood
when he sat up on the ground. He didn’t even look at me when I
called his name. He simply laid his forearms on his knees and hung
his head between his limbs.

“Eric.” I landed next to him and grabbed his
arm like it would make him see me, but he never moved. “What
happened? Eric?”

When Jonathon screamed for help, his voice
was deeper, and I knew he had shifted into his shade form. Even
over his shouts, I heard Eric grumble, “I’m fine.” He stood up like
he actually was, but limped when he started to walk. Someone had
hurt him, but I didn’t understand how it was possible.

“I was with them,” I ranted as I followed
him. “I was with Zac and Robb. How did he do it?”

Eric stopped walking and finally looked at
me. His right eye was already bruising.

“It was Darthon,” I spoke for him because I
knew he couldn’t. “Wasn’t it?”

Eric never responded. Bracke and Luthicer
were already outside. They hadn’t even bothered to run outside.
They had transported together, and Pierce was next to them.

“What’s going on?” Bracke started to speak
before he really looked at his son, and then, he sucked in a
breath. “Eric—”

“I’m fine,” he repeated his promise, but he
never stopped limping toward the shelter.

“You’re not fine.” Bracke grabbed him, and
Eric didn’t fight it. He stopped walking. “Who did this?”

“It was Darthon,” I said.

“Jess,” Eric spoke my name like it was a
curse. “Jessica.” His voice softened. “Wait until we’re
inside.”

It was then that I felt it. The air was hot.
The trees were shaking. Everything reeked of fire. Darthon had been
here—briefly, but here. Everyone else must have sensed it, too,
because Bracke wrapped his arm around Eric’s torso, and he helped
his son walk to the shelter. Everyone else rushed ahead of
them.

“Lock the place down,” Luthicer barked as we
entered, and a group of shades scattered.

“You can do that?” Pierce asked.

Luthicer shot him a glare, but the moment was
clear. The shelter had security that was beyond what we had
previously believed. Within minutes, the ground was shaking, and
Bracke sat Eric on a bench as if he couldn’t hold them both up
during it.

“Looks like we’ll have an earthquake on the
news tomorrow,” Pierce muttered.

Even in the darkest times, my guard joked,
but his face didn’t cock his usual grin. His expression was one I
had seen on Urte. The squinting eyes gave away Pierce’s true
feelings. If we had rushed, we might have been able to prevent it.
We might have been able to help Eric. He had been in trouble all
along.

Eric stretched his arm in front of him like
he had simply been training, but his face was swelling. Even when
he winced, his cheek moved unnaturally. He only became a shade when
his father put up a silence barrier. All of his injuries began to
melt away, but not as quickly as they usually did. His jaw even
made a noise, but he rocked it like it was nothing. His blue eyes
were burning.

“What happened?” Bracke repeated, but his
voice hadn’t calmed. It shook with his fingertips, and small
shadows spiraled out of his skin. Apparently, Eric inherited his
emotions from his father. “Is it true? Was it Darthon?”

Eric opened his mouth, but only a squeak came
out. He shook his head.

Darthon still controlled his speech.

“It was Darthon,” Luthicer agreed with me.
“We all felt it.”

“But not until we were outside,” Bracke
argued. “We should’ve sensed it before—”

“Unless he was human,” I interrupted, keeping
my eyes on Eric.

He looked up at me as if to confirm it.
Eric—all along—knew who Darthon was. He knew if Darthon was Zac or
Robb, or someone else entirely. He knew everything, and he couldn’t
tell us.

“That’s impossible,” Bracke said, but his
tone was quiet. “Right?”

Eric didn’t respond.

Before anyone saw the elder move, Bracke
grabbed Eric’s shoulders. “Why wouldn’t you kill him if you know?
Why wouldn’t you tell—”

Luthicer pulled Eric’s father back.
“Don’t.”

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son,” Bracke
argued, inches from Luthicer’s face.

Luthicer never looked away from Bracke. “You
won’t have a son if you keep acting like that.”

Bracke’s chest caved in as if the man had
slapped him, but I tore my eyes away from the two men. I only
looked at Eric, who had yet to move, yet to speak, yet to explain.
He couldn’t tell us anything.

It was Pierce that changed everything.
“There’s going to be another war, Shoman,” he said, calling Eric
the name I hadn’t heard anyone use in weeks, the name of the first
descendant. “You can’t stop that. It has to happen again.”

Shoman disappeared back into Eric almost as
quickly as he had shifted before. He cringed as his angular face
shifted and squinted as his black hair sprang up into brown waves.
Shifting quickly was painful. Everyone knew it, but Eric did it
anyway. He wasn’t even completely healed. His lip was bleeding.

“I’ll handle it,” he finally spoke, and all
of the tension in the room dissipated.

Pierce was right. Eric hadn’t shifted for one
reason. He knew Darthon, and they would’ve fought, but Eric knew it
would’ve declared war. He knew people would die, and he knew he
couldn’t die, and—now—I did too. The elders, for once, were the
oblivious ones.

“Darthon was here,” I spoke to Bracke and
Luthicer. “He’s either Zac or Robb.”

“We aren’t sure,” Pierce agreed, “but we are
sure it’s one of them.”

Eric was on his feet like he could stop us
from speaking, but he hung back because it was too late.

Bracke’s gaze flickered from his son to
Pierce to me. “I thought you were going out with friends.”