Death Before Daylight (8 page)

Read Death Before Daylight Online

Authors: Shannon A. Thompson

Tags: #dark light fate destiny archetypes, #destined choice unique creatures new paranormal young love, #fantasy romance paranormal, #high school teen romance shifters young adult, #identity chance perspective dual perspective series, #love drama love story romance novel, #new adult trilogy creatures death mystery forever shades

“Slow down,” Jada gave orders like she was
born to do so. “There are more like me—new shades—but I’m the only
one Named after Jess.” It was the only response Jada had given that
relaxed me. “That we know of anyway.”

“Listen,” I said and sighed, “I know you’re
not supposed to say a lot—”

“I’m not supposed to be having this
conversation,” she corrected, “but I’m here, and I want to know
what you want from me.”

Pierce cleared his throat. “You understand
you’re different, right? That you shouldn’t have powers at
all?”

“That I was human?” She nodded. “I’ve known
that.”

“Known?” Pierce repeated.

Jada’s lips pressed together in a thin line,
but it was too late to take back the singular word we had latched
onto.

“You knew about the Dark before you had
powers?” Pierce guessed.

Jada’s gaze moved to the forest like she
could run into it and escape, but her feet dug into the ground like
she was forced to stay. The expression told us everything we needed
to know. She knew before she had powers. Her parents had broken the
Dark’s law.

“This is fantastic.” Pierce straightened up
like it was, indeed, fantastic. “She could have powers because she
knew about the Dark,” he theorized. “It might be a good test to
tell another child of a half-breed and see what happens.”

“We can’t do that,” I snapped.

“What?” Pierce defended. “We’re already
crossing a line. Don’t tell me that’s where you want to follow the
rules.”

“We can’t affect people’s lives like that,” I
said. Telling someone they were born into a paranormal world was
not something I took lightly, especially since the paranormal world
was crumbling.

“For all we know, someone’s already told
their kids,” Pierce continued to argue. “We’d just have to
check—”


Pierce,”
I screamed in my friend’s
head. He even stepped back.
“You can theorize all you want—just
not in front of her.”


Got it, boss.”
In all the chaos,
Pierce found the strength to be humorous.

“My dad didn’t tell me by choice,” Jada’s
defense split between our telepathic communications. “I caught him
once—in his transformation. I thought I lost my mind.” Her rambling
was almost too fast to follow. “But don’t tell anyone. He told me
how much trouble he could get in. I don’t want him to get in
trouble. He’s been in too much trouble before. He almost got killed
by those Light people, and I don’t want to be ostracized—”

“Relax,” Pierce interrupted. “We aren’t going
to tell anyone.”

Jada bit her lip, but her eyes were already
watering. “I really shouldn’t have come.”

“Yes, yes, you should’ve,” Pierce said. “This
is good. This is going to help us. We just need to know who your
dad is.”

Jada pushed her tears back. “I can’t do
that.”

“You don’t have to.” My words fell out of me,
but I wouldn’t let her know the truth.


I know who her dad is,”
I told Pierce
so he wouldn’t keep pressuring her.

Pierce faced me, but I focused on the girl. I
had recognized the unusual length of her hair for a reason. Her
nuances were familiar, just as her story reminded me of the one I
was told a few months ago by the only half-breed I knew. He worked
for the Light until they wanted to use his human daughter in
battle. He killed lights to leave. The scars covered his arms. I
would never forget the marks. I would never forget him.


Luthicer,”
I said.
“He’s her
dad.”

 

 

10

Jessica

 

When I fell out of my transportation, I was
two blocks away from my house. I had aimed for home, but I hadn’t
even gotten close. It was only when I remembered Eric’s training I
figured out what had happened.

“You have to truly want to go where you’re
transporting to, or you’ll end up somewhere else.” He had explained
while setting up blocks in the training room. “It might be easy
when you have a goal, but it’s difficult if you let your emotions
take over. You might end up in school or in a car or somewhere else
you enjoy. You don’t want that to happen. You want to focus.”

I was yards away because I wanted to be yards
away. I wanted to walk. I wanted time to think.

My stomach squeezed when I thought about it.
The Dark hadn’t Named me. They said they would, but no one had
gotten around to it. They didn’t have time. But they had time for
her.

Jada was beautiful. She was one of those rare
girls that were both petite and curvy, the kind of girl society
pressured us all to be, and she was nice. And scared. As much as I
hated to admit it, her confusion reminded me of myself when I met
Eric for the first time.

He was a dream, translucent, yet whole, and
the way he touched my face was the only way I could believe he was
real. Even now, one year later, I found my hand on the cheek he
touched all those months ago. I had to touch Jada, too. That was
why I grabbed her arm.

She hadn’t been cold like Eric had been. She
was warm, and she sizzled beneath my palm. Her powers tempted me
like sin did. Every desire I had focused on her. I wanted to know
her, to figure out who she was, to harness whatever power she had.
I wanted to rip her apart.

Her name wasn’t even half of it. It was
mostly her powers, and they had reminded me of one thing. The Light
realm. The fire burning. The stone. The red room Camille had died
in.

I hadn’t wanted to leave Camille, because I
didn’t want her to die. The memory of how her skin had flickered
away like pieces of metal was my worst memory, yet I held it close
now. Maybe I didn’t want to leave because of Camille, but maybe
there was more to it. Maybe I didn’t want to leave the Light realm
for another reason altogether. Maybe I wanted to stay for the same
reasons I wanted to keep my hold on Jada. I recognized the Light
power the way I cherished my Dark powers.

They felt the same.

My head screamed, and I grabbed my hair,
wishing I could tear the thoughts out of my mind.

The Light was not the Dark. If it were, I
would’ve wanted the powers when I met Camille for the first time,
the night of prom, but I didn’t. Camille’s powers had nauseated me.
Fudicia’s Light powers had torn me apart. They had burned. The
feeling was torturous. Yet, it felt different now. Something had
changed.

I dipped back into the shadows, letting the
blackness cool my skin, and I sank into the darkness of the night.
I remained there, floating in nothingness, levitating in a pool of
molecules until I fell out.

My knees hit the lawn with such force that
blades of grass waved out in front of me. I stared at the
frostbitten tips, sparkling an iridescent purple beneath the winter
moonlight. A rain of my violet power fell from the cloudless sky,
but it never touched my body. It bounced off me as if it didn’t
belong to me, and it flickered red before soaking into the ground.
The water became yellow when he arrived.

Darthon.

He was standing in front of me. He was on my
front lawn.

I leapt to my feet, tearing my sword out of
my arm, but it flickered like a hologram.

Darthon never took his blade out. He only
smiled.

“What do you want?” I growled, clenching my
fist, begging for my weapon to work, but nothing changed. It even
flickered on and off.

The black pits he called his eyes followed
the hologram’s shaky appearance. “It’ll only work if you want it to
work.” Just like the transportation. “You don’t want to kill
me.”

His entrancing voice broke what little
concentration I had on my sword. It zipped back into my arm,
searing my bones, and breath seethed between my teeth. The only
hope I had was the energy it had put out. Eric would sense it. He
would know I was in trouble. He would come.

Darthon laid out his arms as if he were
asking for a hug. “You’re the one that called me, Jess,” he said.
“If you want to bring Eric into this, fine. Do it.” His voice
dropped. “Go ahead.”

“I already did.” My knees bent, but I didn’t
survey my surroundings like training had taught me to do. This was
the real world. There was no time for looking away from the
target.

“Great.” His grin stretched. “We share the
same goals.”

Eric. Darthon wanted him to come. He wanted
us both. I was right. The Light had always wanted us both.


Don’t come,”
I tried to warn Eric,
but it was too late.

“We’ve got company,” Darthon said it just as
two shadows split the front yard in half.

Pierce appeared, and so did Eric as Shoman,
his sword in full view. But he didn’t last long.

Darthon flicked his hand, and the yellow rain
splattered over us as if a bubble had been placed over our heads.
Pierce smacked against the outside, pounding on the force field as
he screamed. I couldn’t hear him. Shoman, though, was on the
inside, and his sword was gone. He wasn’t even standing. He was on
the ground, screaming, and I could hear him. The screech pierced my
ears.

I rushed over, falling down next to him as
the Light energy prickled against my arms. Darthon had us trapped
in a room full of his energy, the same energy that hurt shades, the
energy that was torturing Shoman. Not me.

“Eric,” I tried to get his attention, but his
eyelids squeezed shut. His screams didn’t stop. He never stopped
squirming. Pierce never stopped pounding on the walls. I never felt
a thing.

I looked up at Pierce, and my guard’s green
eyes met mine. His pupils widened, his hair wild, his expression
dropped with every millisecond. Burnt flesh curled off his
knuckles. The blackness behind him began to open up, and I knew the
elders were coming. Everyone was coming, and I stood, knowing I
would have to face Darthon until they did.

“You don’t have to worry,” Darthon said
before I could speak to him. “You won’t be the dead one.”

A bright light shattered from the ground,
filling the bubble, and it blanketed us in a fire I had only felt a
few times. It was the fire in Jada’s veins. It was the burning
sensation of my desires. It was the Light realm.

“You’re coming with me.” Darthon’s voice was
all I heard. “Both of you.”

 

 

11

Eric

 

The floor was hard, uneven and cold. My
shoulder dug into the ground, and my skin grated against the
concrete. When my eyes opened, I expected a flood of light, but
murky shadows met me. In the corner, a single candle flickered, and
a miniscule wave of illumination darted across my jeans.

I was human.

“About time.” The voice was the only sound in
the small room, but it didn’t echo like it should’ve. It came and
disappeared like it had never existed at all.

My neck stung as I arched my back, trying to
find the source. It didn’t take me long. He was sitting right next
to me—except he was in a chair, and I was on the floor.

Darthon.

His blond hair was the brightest part of the
room, but he was untouched by the candlelight. His dark eyes sucked
it all in like a black hole, and his grin showed how much he
enjoyed it.

“I’ve watched you die four times now,” he
continued to speak, “and each time, you wake right back up.”

Only then did my memories return. I was with
Jada when Pierce and I sensed Darthon. We transported to Jessica,
and it was over. We were taken to the Light realm, and I couldn’t
handle it as Shoman. Shades died in the Light realm, but so did
humans. I had already lost consciousness a dozen times. I expected
to die. I even waited for it. But I kept waking back up. This
wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was my
first time seeing Darthon.

“Humans can’t exist here,” he continued,
standing from his chair only to kneel down next to me. He reached
down, twisted his fingers through my hair, and yanked my head up
off the ground. “So, tell me how you can.” His hot breath skimmed
my cheek.

I couldn’t answer, because I didn’t know. He
was right. I should’ve been dead a long time ago. I shouldn’t have
existed. But I did. Shoman was obsolete in the Light realm, but
Eric Welborn remained. My only hope resided in how our powers had
shifted.

“Where’s Jessica?” I managed, ignoring his
question.

When he removed his grip, my cheek slammed
against the floor.

“Jessica,” he repeated her name like it was a
dirty thing. “She’s alive,” he said. “No thanks to you—her
hero.”

Of course she was alive. If she weren’t,
Darthon would be dead, too. The question wasn’t about her life. It
was about her location because she wasn’t with me. I had no clue
where she was, or how alive she was. She might have even been in
the same state as I was.

“She’s the one who called me, you know,”
Darthon’s words halted my thoughts as his hand rose, and glitter
rain fell from his palm. Aside from the golden coloring, it looked
exactly like the power Jessica used—the only power I didn’t
recognize, the only power I didn’t have control of.

When the rain disappeared, Darthon’s face
appeared in front of mine. “I just didn’t take her as the type to
call on two men at once.”

I reached up to choke him, to grab
him—anything—but he disappeared only to reappear on the other side
of my torso. He kicked my face, and my jaw cracked. My neck
sizzled. My spine was melting.

But a scream didn’t escape me. Not this time.
I had been expecting it.

His knees popped as he kneeled down again.
“You’re used to pain, aren’t you, Welborn?”

“I’ve had training,” I spat, removing my
mental state from my body. I had felt this pain too many times to
count—thanks to Urte’s torture machine. I would have to thank his
foresight if I ever saw him again.

“Look how much good that’s done you,” he
mocked, but he focused too much on his words.

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