Minutes Before Sunset (8 page)

16

“Eric James Welborn.”

My father burst into my room in a cloud of smoke. He hadn’t even bothered to walk down the hallway as a human. He was pissed, and I was in trouble. A lot of trouble.

“My office, now,” he said, and then he was gone.

The blood in my veins froze, and my heart seized.
What was this about?

I shook off my nerves, shifting so rapidly that my skin felt like it was ripping. In seconds, I transported to his office, and gaped at the situation in front of me. Luthicer was standing in the middle of the room, arms folded, and my father, along with Urte, stood by his side.

“What now?” I asked, hoping they hadn’t seen my body tense. “Another test?”

Luthicer’s white hair tingled with electricity. “Where were you last night?”

My muscles stiffened as I locked my legs. I’d spent all night flying with Camille and Pierce, soaring and dodging one another’s powers. I knew we weren’t supposed to be out, let alone using our powers so openly, but we’d done it before and never got caught. Ever.

“I didn’t realize you were my secretary,” I said, locking glares with the half-breed elder.

Luthicer’s lip curled. “Apparently, someone needs to fill that role, since your guard isn’t good enough.”

Camille.
“What’s this about?” I asked, suffocating from fury.
Where was she?

“Why don’t you tell us,” Luthicer said, and I lowered my tone.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

My father stepped between us. “I’d prefer you accuse my son, so he can defend his innocence rather than prolong unnecessary guilt.”

Luthicer’s black eyes turned to slits. “With all due respect, Bracke, I’d prefer to do things my way,” he said. “Your son needs a chance to admit to his deeds first.”

My father ignored him, turning to me. “Have you gone against any of the rules?”

“No.”
Aside from the girl.
“I have nothing to admit to.”

Urte sighed, grabbing his bristled chin. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

My trainer closed his green eyes. “This meeting is pointless, Luthicer,” he said. “Shoman is telling the truth; there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in his face or doubt in his eyes.”

“He could be a good liar,” Luthicer said, running his black eyes over me.

“My son wouldn’t lie to his trainer or me,” my father said, and guilt seeped into my veins.

“I don’t believe him.” Luthicer remained rigid.

“Yet you haven’t even told me what I’m being accused of,” I said, glaring.

Luthicer returned my glower. “Someone was outside the shelter last night, and they used a large amount of power. They risked our safety.”

I froze. He knew that we’d been out, but how?

My father pointed at the half-breed. “My son wouldn’t risk his life so foolishly; he values his descendant responsibilities just as much as the rest of us.”

Luthicer’s face reddened as he spoke, “How could you think your son is so worthy of being the first descendant?” he asked, shoving a finger against my father’s chest. “He isn’t even an adult.”

I grabbed my father’s shoulder and yanked him back, taking his place. “You have no right—”

“I’m an elder,” Luthicer said, his nose twitching. “I have more right than you ever will.”

“Not when I’m the one saving your ungrateful ass on the battlefield.”

“Eric.” My father pushed his way into the fight and shoved us apart. “Don’t speak to Luthicer that way; he’s higher than you.”

“Only because of age,” I spat.

“Which you’ll never reach,” Luthicer retorted as Light energy waved off him. I felt nauseous. “You’ll die before you can ever become an adult.”

My hands tightened into fists.
And you could die right now.

A hand grabbed the nape of my neck, and I knew Urte was holding me back. He was the only one who could sense my actions, even before I did. “Fighting won’t get us anywhere.”

“Eric doesn’t respond to anything else,” Luthicer said, dwelling on my human name, before he faced my father. “And I can see where he gets it from.”

My father tensed, and I half-expected Urte to abandon my side in order to hold my father back. Instead, my father held his ground, and he grumbled, “What’s your point, Luthicer?”

“Shoman needs to take responsibility for his actions—”

“What actions?” I screamed, and Luthicer chucked a piece of metal at me.

In reflex, my fingers snatched it from the air, and I looked down. The dark circle was engraved with a willow tree, and I knew the dark liquid held inside was meant for me.

Camille.
My free hand slapped against my sternum. My necklace was missing.

“I found it by the river,” Luthicer said, folding his long arms.

My father’s eyes lingered on my hand. “Tell me it isn’t yours,” he said, but I couldn’t speak. It must have fallen off in flight.

“Of course it is his,” Luthicer exclaimed. “I’d recognize my student’s work anywhere, and Camille wouldn’t give that to anyone but Eric.”

Urte shook his head. “Camille could’ve dropped it.”

Luthicer laughed. “Why would Camille need a remedy? A little Light power doesn’t affect her,” he said, gloating in my silence. “If you don’t remember, Urte, that’s why she was assigned as Eric’s guard in the first place. She can stand up to either power. Eric cannot.”

“Camille could’ve been delivering it,” my father said, and Luthicer shook his boney finger.

“You’re missing the point, Bracke,” he said. “If she was out delivering it, she wasn’t guarding your son, and his presence is unaccounted for.”

“That’s not Camille’s fault.” I broke through the conversation, but Luthicer wouldn’t silence.

“She’s your guard,” he said. “It’s her fault if you get attacked and she isn’t there to help you.” Suddenly, Luthicer was inches from my face, his Light energy pulsating against my skin. “Do you understand what would happen to us if you died?”

“I won’t die.”

“According to whom?” he asked, tilting his face. “The prophecy? It only promises our kind’s survival if you live up to the battle, let alone make it to the battle.” He paused, and his dark eyes flashed white. “Even you have to know that the Light is searching for you, hoping to kill you before you even get the chance to defend yourself.”

“I can fight, Luthicer.”

He shook his head. “How do you expect to defeat Darthon when you can’t even withstand my powers?” he asked, referring to his previous test. “I’m a half-breed, Shoman. A half-breed! I’m not even close to Darthon’s power level—”

“Darthon’s my age,” I said, relying on facts. “He can’t be much stronger than me.”

“Is that what you’re depending on?” Luthicer’s voice tore against his throat. “Is that the first descendant’s battle plan?”

Even though I was stronger than any shade my age, I’d always be hopeless to the elders. I was still weaker than the Light, and I knew it. Lights could practice their powers all day long, while shades were constricted to night. I had less time to master my strength, and Darthon, undoubtedly, would use time against me.

Luthicer sighed shakily and stepped back, dusting off his shirt. “Now,” he said. “Just tell us who you were with, so we can carry out the necessary punishments.”

I locked eyes with the ground. “I was by myself,” I said.

“Camille’s already in solitary,” Luthicer said, and my heart slammed against my ribs. “Your lies won’t protect her.”

“I’m not lying,” I said. “Your punishments are for nothing.”

Luthicer’s black eyes waved over me, and he opened his mouth, his lip curling, but he turned away. “I’m done here,” he said, lingering in the shadows that grew around him. “I’ll be spending my last living months studying the prophecy; maybe there’s another hero who will prevent our doom.”

With that, he was gone, and Urte slammed his hand against the wall. “Don’t listen to him, Shoman,” he said, panting. “Luthicer is stuck in his own world; he always has been.”

I didn’t respond, and my father’s blue eyes searched mine. “Were you out with Camille and Pierce last night?” he asked, and I sighed.

“I’ve already told you I wasn’t.”

My father looked away, and Urte grabbed his beard. “Did you just lie to us?” he asked, and I gaped at them before Urte hung his head. “They already told us, Shoman. I knew you’d lie to Luthicer to protect them, but—”

“You can’t lie to us,” my father said. “And you can’t be so irresponsible.”

“It was my fault,” I managed, holding my expression steady. “I convinced them to go out last night. I needed a break. I didn’t mean to cause problems.”

My father’s blue eyes glided over every curve of my face, every line and freckle. His forehead wrinkled, exposing a vein. “What kind of father am I to not be able to read my son’s face?”

“A good one,” I said. “You’ve trained me well, and I will prove it to Luthicer.”

He shook his head. “You need to prove it to everyone.”

“So I will,” I said, pocketing my remedy. I’d find another string for it. “I’ll wear my necklace, so I’m safe.”

“You’re safe as long as Camille is with you,” my father said, tearing my recent freedom away. Camille would never leave my side again.

“But I won’t get hurt—”

My father held his hand up. “I don’t want you to speak; I want you to listen,” he said, pacing through his office. “I know this is a hard time for you. With all the stresses—Luthicer, Camille, Mindy, the prophecy—I would rebel too,” he paused and shook his head. “But it’s my job to lead you to success, and, if you fail, it’s because I failed, not you.”

“But—”

I got the hand again. “The Marking of Change is inevitable, and to expect a seventeen-year-old to fulfill such a destiny is treachery in itself,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Know that you’re my son, Eric, but don’t forget that you’re Shoman as well.”

“And which one comes first?” I asked.

He sighed. “I think you know that answer.”

“Shoman?” I guessed, rage suffocating my leftover energy.

Urte and my father were silent.

“Of course he’s most important,” I said, stomping toward the door. I shifted and fell into my human form, yanking the door open.

Urte grabbed my shoulder. “Our lives depend on that prophecy, and our future depends on you. I wish there was another way, Eric—I really wish there was—but there isn’t.”

“You better hope Luthicer proves you wrong,” I said, shrugging past him and out the door. I didn’t want to come back. I wouldn’t.

17

My powers sizzled as if blood could boil. Shadows clung to my arms and legs, and blue sparks escaped my curled fist. I punched a tree, and the bark broke my skin. The injury healed before I even pulled away, shaking my hand.

“Shoman!” The nameless shade leapt back.

I’d met her in the forest, even though the elders were probably watching me. It didn’t matter.
They’d taken my chances of freedom away. I wouldn’t be able to see her anymore, and she’d get caught eventually. We both would.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked, and I shrugged her off.

“We have to stop this,” I said, and her worried expression crumbled into a glare.

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard me,” I said. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Why not?” She jumped next to me and grabbed my arm. “What happened?”

My jaw rocked back and forth.
Could I tell her?
It wasn’t as if I could lose anymore. They’d even taken Camille away from me. She was my guard, and she was in solitary because of me. I knew what solitary entailed. Your powers were stripped, and you were left to insanity. A shade—not even a light—couldn’t handle being completely human for very long. It was too unnatural.

“Something happened,” I said, feeling the words as they slowly fell off my lips. “And it wasn’t good.”

“Did the elders test you again?”

“The elders,” I growled, desperately trying to control my anger. “I despise them—all of them.”

“Let’s walk,” she said, and I nodded, stomping by her side as she moved through the trees. We wouldn’t be flying tonight, and, at this rate, we’d never fly again.

In silence, we walked through the forest, curling past the darkness, and strolled along the river. The full moon reflected off the trickling water, and I gazed at the nature that had become home to me. The shelter was no longer comforting and home definitely wasn’t, yet the place we met every night soothed my rage. My emotions—that weren’t allowed to exist—were alive again here.

“They don’t think I’m good enough to fight,” I said.

“But you are.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, stringing out her words. “But if you’re this stressed out, why don’t you become a guard?”

Because I don’t have a choice.
“I can’t.”

“Why?”

I groaned, falling backward to sit. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Make it that simple,” she said, slowly sitting next to me. “Explain it to me.” She laid her hand on my knee, and I stared at her petite fingers. They seemed so familiar—then again, we’d been seeing one another for weeks now. She was familiar. She was my friend.

“I can’t.”

She tapped her nails along my knee. “When you started training me, you told me I couldn’t be afraid—of anything,” she said. “Yet you’re afraid to speak.”

My neck nearly snapped as I turned to stare at her. She smiled, but the ends of her lips twitched. She was nervous. “You’ll have to tell me eventually,” she said, and I shook my head.

“I won’t ever get the chance.”

Her hand returned to her lap, and her shaky fingertips fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Why do you keep saying that?” she whispered.

My shoulders tensed. “Because it’s the truth.”

“I can help—”

“You’re weaker than me,” I grumbled, unsure of my words. She was more powerful than any shade I’d ever met; she only needed to control it. “How do you expect to help?”

“With your training—”

“My training is nothing compared to theirs,” I said, ignoring her timid tone. “Everything we’ve done is useless; don’t you see that?”

Her face scrunched up, and her eyes became glossy with unshed tears. “You’re just being mean now,” she said. She shook her head and her black hair matted to her face as tears slipped over her eyelashes. “You said I could meet the Dark. You said I could be somebody.”

I reached out to touch her, but she moved away. My chest sunk, and I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I lied.”

She blinked, barely meeting my eyes. “About what?”

“You,” I said, knowing I had to admit to my faults. “But mainly them—they don’t accept outsiders; they kill them.”

Her tears ceased. “What?”

My jaw ached. “They’ll figure you were abandoned for a reason,” I said, sickened by the ways of my kind. “They wouldn’t even give you a chance to explain.”

“But I can explain—”

“You haven’t even explained it to me,” I pointed out, and she opened her mouth, but I stopped her. “And I don’t want you to. It won’t make a difference now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand this.”

“You don’t want to,” I said. “Trust me.”

Her lips thinned into a white line. “Fine,” she said, jumping to her feet. I mirrored her, but she stomped away, turning around abruptly. She walked back as I conjured up words, but she lifted her hand and smacked my face.

My neck twisted, and my cheek burned. Her coarse breathing filled my ears, and I turned back, stunned. “What the hell was that for?” I asked, my voice wavering.

“You’re like everyone else,” she said, pressing her finger against my chest. “I’m trying to help you, and all you do is blow me off like I’m nothing.”

  I grabbed her hand, and she tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. “You aren’t nothing,” I said. “You’re the only one who’s helped me—”

“Yet you gave up on me!” Her face flushed, and she squirmed beneath my grasp. I wasn’t even holding her that hard; she could get away if she wanted to. “I thought I finally had someone I could count on,” she said, dropping her face as she stilled. “You’re not the only one going through a hard time right now, Shoman; you never are. Why can’t you understand that?”

My fingers loosened, but hers spread over my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“I didn’t even know what I was until I met you,” she said. “You told me I was okay; you helped me realize who I was again—what I was—and now I’m trying to repay you, and you won’t let me.”

Her words pummeled my stomach, and my eyes squeezed shut as I bent my face away. She was right, yet I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t even stand up to her. I had pushed her away, just like everybody else, and she didn’t deserve it. No one had.

“I should go,” she said as her body heat dissipated. She stepped away. “I won’t be back, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

I won’t be back.
Her words shuddered through me as she turned to go. Her footsteps along the ground felt like I’d fallen in the river and begun to drown.
No.
I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

I raced behind her, but she quickened her speed. “Don’t go,” I said, leaping in front of her.

“Why not?” she spat.

“Because you would’ve been gone by now if you really wanted to,” I said, knowing she could transport away and avoid my radar. After all, she’d done it before. “And I don’t want you to,” I added.

Her arms folded across her chest, and she dropped her gaze. “I wasn’t the one ending it,” she said.

“I know.” I laid my hands on her small shoulders and bent down to catch her purple eyes. “And I’m sorry,” I said, knowing she could feel my hands shake. “I really am.”

Her lips quivered. “How do I know you mean it?”

“Trust me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can anymore, Shoman.”

My chest fell. “Then I’ll earn it again,” I promised.

The words flew out of me in a way they never had before. They were uncontrollable and desperate, yet I didn’t regret them. The emotions had taken over, and I knew why I was thrown off guard. For once, I was speaking the truth.

Her hand raised, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. They sparkled against her white skin. “You have an entire community, Shoman,” she said, unable to speak loudly. “You don’t need me—”

“I do,” I said, and she stared. “I need you more than anything; you’re the only one who’s been here for me.” My throat tightened. “And you’re the only one I’ve wanted to be there for in a long time. I do need you.”

I didn’t care about the elders or the danger they said I was in. I didn’t want to let her go. I couldn’t let her go.

“Please,” I said. “Try to understand that.”

“I do, Shoman,” she said, and her hand touched mine. My heartbeat slowed. “I feel your pain, even when we’re not together; I feel everything you go through.” Her fingertips swayed over my cold skin. “I don’t know why, but I’m always worried about you.” She bit her lip and sighed. “You told me never to lose my concentration—and I haven’t—but it’s nearly impossible not to when I’m around you.”

“But—”

She slapped her hand over my mouth, but she smiled. “I’m not an elder, and I may not be a great shade, but I know you’re capable, and the Dark is ignorant if they think otherwise,” she said. “I don’t know everything about your situation, but I believe in you, Shoman—even if I don’t want to.” She smirked, and a half-laugh escaped her. “I only want you to believe in me too.”

I froze as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into an embrace. She smelled like the sky. “Let me help you,” she whispered against my neck. “Let me be here for you like you are for me.”

“You already are here for me,” I said, slowly hugging her against my thundering heart. Could she feel it? I couldn’t feel anything else.

I didn’t know what it was that I felt, but I knew one thing. She felt—right—and the only thing I wanted was to feel right for her.