Death Before Daylight (12 page)

“Not entirely.”

I yanked my feet up and hugged my knees to my
chest. Every muscle inside of me burned. I hadn’t eaten, and I had
expelled any influence the Light had on me. For once, I felt human
and weak, but I wasn’t either one if I had the willpower to believe
it.

“You don’t love me,” I argued what he had
insinuated, but his eyebrows shot up.

“Of course I don’t,” he said, but his face
dropped. “But I do desire you.”

It was his tone. It was the way he looked at
me.

I pulled the Light energy back and leapt up
to my feet. The power sparked a flame inside of my veins, and I put
my hands in front of me. I wanted to kill him, even though he would
come back to life, but he didn’t move.

He stayed on the ground and looked up at me
in the same way a child would. “Prom gave you away.”

My hands dropped. “Prom?” That was months
ago, way before I thought he knew who I was. He had held a knife to
my throat. He could’ve taken me then, but Eric convinced him I was
an innocent human. Evidently, he hadn’t been entirely
convinced.

“I saw him protect you, and I knew he’d
already fallen for you,” Darthon said as he stared at the wall. “I
only had to watch you to figure out who he was.” His lip curled.
“But that pesky half-breed.” He cursed. “Your memory loss made it
tricky.”

Luthicer. He knew that Luthicer was the one
to remove my memories. He knew everything.

“How long did you know about Eric?” I
managed.

Darthon sneered. “We would’ve known earlier
if it weren’t for that fake mother.”

Ida. The elders had already told me
everything I had missed. The woman had yet to meet me. She was
mourning Eu. His death affected the shelter as much as Camille’s
had. Eric hadn’t attended either of their funerals.

“If she wasn’t there when we declared war—”
His voice drifted off. “We did that for you, by the way. Everyone
in the Light was willing to sacrifice themselves to a war just for
you,” he said it like he was proud. “What did the Dark do? Shun you
with confusion?”

“That was my choice,” I bit back.

“Are you still proud of that choice?”

His question broke me.

I jumped forward, ready to tackle him, but he
shot up and grabbed my arms. I kicked him in the leg, but he didn’t
kick me back. Instead, he twisted my arm behind my back and slammed
me against the wall.

“Don’t fight me here,” he spoke against my
neck. “You’ll only regret it.”

I struggled, trying to escape his grasp, but
he leaned against my back until my face crushed against the wall. I
could barely breathe, but I kept fighting. He shoved his knee into
the back of mine, and my muscles tore. Air hissed out of my
lungs.

“Stop,” he sounded like he was begging. “Just
stop fighting.”

“I won’t.”

And he was gone.

I spun around only to see him standing by the
door. It had reappeared with the table full of food. “You aren’t a
prisoner here, Jess,” he said, opening the door to reveal the
hallway. “Walk around. See it for yourself. You’ll see how much you
belong here.”

I didn’t hesitate. I lunged for the table,
grabbed the nearest knife, and threw it at him. He leapt to the
left, and the blade bounced off the wall, clanking across the
ground.

Darthon didn’t leave or lock me inside like I
thought he would. He walked across the room, picked up the knife,
and placed it on the table—only inches away from me. “Work on your
aim,” he said, disappearing in a beam of light before I could
fathom what I had seen.

Darthon was limping. His arm was red, and
bruises formed around his shoulders in the same places he had hurt
me. My injuries appeared on him. We were connected.

He wasn’t lying.

15

I dreamt of my mother that night. The bats
circled overhead, and she pointed up while kneeling down. Her other
hand was on top of my head, and her fingernails scratched against
my scalp. Her voice shook.

“Even the scariest animals can be beautiful,”
she said. “You’re beautiful.”

“Boys aren’t beautiful, Mom.”

As she took my hand, I didn’t look at her
face. I only stared at her ring, the one that was on Jessica’s
finger now, and then, I woke up.

The Light realm was as dark as that night
was, and for a moment, my dream melted over my reality. I saw the
forest as she walked toward it without me, but the memory
disappeared against the stone walls. I was awake.

I laid a hand on my sternum to make sure my
body was intact. Darthon hadn’t hurt me recently. No one had. But I
could already sense his presence.

“You’re awake,” he spoke like he had been
waiting for hours.

“Do you enjoy watching me sleep?” I rolled
over to face him.

He was already grinning. “You look like a
princess.”

His words made me sick, but his movements
were worse. He walked over and knelt inches away from my face. “Can
you sit up?”

“I’d rather not,” I said, but he didn’t give
me a choice.

A bright light burned my skin, and despite my
will to lie on the ground, my body lifted until I leaned against
the wall. My back contorted, and my stomach clenched like my
teeth.

“Good morning,” he said, but the red skin
around his eyes said something else. He hadn’t slept. “I wanted to
have a little chat with you.”

“Why is that not a surprise?”

His smirk melted, but his powers grew, and
the air sizzled. It was hard to breathe, but I forced myself not to
gasp. I didn’t want him to see my pain. I wouldn’t give him the
satisfaction. When I didn’t budge, he hit me across the face and
laughed.

I spit out the blood before wiping my mouth.
It wasn’t even torture anymore. It was as meaningless as a
handshake.

“What’s so great about you anyway?” he
ranted. “You’ve never even killed someone.”

“Most of us don’t rate a person’s worth on
how many murders they’ve committed.” I waited for Darthon to hit me
again, but he didn’t. He only stared at the wall. “I’m guessing
your talk with Jessica didn’t go well.”

Darthon didn’t look over as he pulled the
collar of his shirt down. Four bruises scattered across his
shoulder. “You could say that.”

“She hurt you.” The words escaped me.

“Indirectly.”

My heart lunged into my throat. He had hurt
her. The bruises on him were hers.

“What did you do?” I growled.

His eyes snapped over to me. “You
worried?”

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Jessica could
handle herself. She always could, and I couldn’t lose my mind over
a few bruises. I had to stay in control.

“I could do a lot,” Darthon continued as I
tried to fight my anger, the same emotion Luthicer told me the
Light would use against me. “She’s not as strong here,” he said,
“and I kind of like the pain.”

I snapped and grabbed him. He shoved me back,
and my spine hit the wall. The breath in my lungs pushed out, and I
couldn’t conceal my gasp this time. “Leave her alone,” I
managed.

“Then, be my slave,” he spat.

My violence cooled. “What?”

“You heard me.” It was his deal, the one he
hadn’t explained yet. “Follow my orders, do everything I say, kiss
my toes,” he elaborated. “That sort of thing.”

I stared at the blond boy in front of me, the
exact opposite of my Dark appearance, but I was the only one to
flinch. “You’re sick.”

He smiled like I complimented him. “That’s
why I understand your mother better than you do.”

This time, I hit him. He didn’t see it
coming, and my fist collided with his cheek. His face snapped to
the side, and he leapt up before I could hit him again. His
wild-eyed stare resembled a child’s. He wasn’t even mad. He was
amazed. It was as if no one had hit him before, and he chuckled
like he enjoyed it.

He took the time to rock his jaw back and
forth before he spoke. “Both of you are so violent.”

Both. Like Jessica was as physical as I
was.

“I meant your mother, Welborn,” he ranted as
if he knew my thoughts were always on the third descendant. “Can
you, at least, attempt to stay focused?”

“I don’t care what you know about her.” This
time, I was talking about my mother. She was dead. There was
nothing I could do for her. Jessica, on the other hand, was alive,
and so were hundreds of Dark members who were relying on us. If I
could do something for them, I would. Worrying about the past
wouldn’t help the future.

“Don’t worry about Jess,” he said, sitting
down again. This time, he was further away and definitely out of
reach. “It’s not like I could kill her.”

But he could hurt her. Even if it hurt him,
he was used to pain like I was. Jessica didn’t have as much
training as we did. Not even close.

“You handle physical pain too well,” Darthon
spoke what I was thinking. “Torturing you doesn’t satisfy me.” His
words explained why he had finally stopped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Right when I thought he would threaten to
hurt Jessica, he changed his stance. “I guarantee you don’t handle
emotional pain well,” he said it like he knew me.

“Too bad I’m not emotional.”

Darthon’s eyebrows rose until they
disappeared beneath his bangs. “About your mother? Hannah? Teresa?”
The human names for Abby and Camille sounded strange coming from
him.

“They’re dead,” I interrupted before he could
continue his hit list. The Dark didn’t concentrate on death. We
were raised to ignore it, to suppress the care for life. If I had
been taught to think about life, I would’ve hesitated to kill
Darthon even more than I already had. It was the single reason I
wouldn’t think about Camille. I wouldn’t. She would be disappointed
if I did.

Darthon allowed the silence to linger like he
could sense my brain moving.

I shoved my thoughts away and snapped again,
“They’re dead.”

“Jess isn’t.”

If a soul could darken, mine did.

Darthon must have seen the evil in my glare
because he grinned, “I thought so.”

“If you kill her, you die,” I reminded
him.

He leaned back on his hands. “If I’m going to
die anyway, I don’t see it as a loss.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Not really.” The light in his eyes
brightened. “We killed Hannah for this. I killed my parents for
this,” he said. “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill Jess if it
came down to it?”

I didn’t even hear his last words. “You—you
killed your parents?”

“They raised me to be a murderer. They had me
kill my first dog.” Darthon lifted his hand to stare at his
fingernails. “They’re proud I practiced on them after that.”

Darthon didn’t just have blood on his hands.
He had his own bloodline on his hands. As blond and bright as his
outward appearance was, he was complete darkness on the inside, and
we were in his realm.

“But—” Darthon’s voice shivered up my spine.
“If I can save her, I will.”

My focus stuck onto his deal, the only way we
could get out. “And you’re going to save her by making me your
slave?”

“Now, we’re talking.” He clapped his hands
together, and his fingers threaded into a grasp. His knuckles were
white. “Once you work for me, I can separate you two.”

“So you can kill me,” I finished.

“Precisely.” He nodded like we were making a
million-dollar business deal. “So, yes, I believe that’s the deal
we want.”

We—like I wanted it, too.

My mouth wouldn’t move. The agreement was too
heavy to say. It was impossible to even ask for clarification.

Darthon’s brow crumbled at my hesitation.
“It’s you or Jess,” he said. “Which do you prefer?”

“We don’t have to die,” I argued. “You
do.”

“She’s one of you, Eric,” he said. “If you
want to achieve balance, what makes you think two shades can live?
Where is the balance in that?” His voice wavered over his stutter.
He never stuttered.

“The balance is between you and me, not her,”
I reminded him.

“And why do you think her bloodline was
created?” he asked. “She’ll take the place of the Light if I die,
and she’ll take the place of the Dark if you die.” Even though he
admitted I didn’t have to die, his words drowned me. “She’s half of
each of us—a new breed—and a part of her will die no matter what we
do.”

Jessica wasn’t a shade. She was a light, too.
She was both without being a half-breed, and her powers were
different because she was different. The signs were right in front
of me, yet I hadn’t seen them. I didn’t want to see them. I hadn’t
seen her from the beginning.

I closed my eyes, fighting the images of
Jessica’s purple rain only for it to be replaced by my mother’s
ring—the one I gave Jessica, the one I made a promise with. “You’re
wrong,” I managed. Darthon couldn’t separate us. He couldn’t.

“I’m not wrong,” he growled, “and that’s
precisely why I’m more equipped to survive with her.”

I opened my eyes as he stood up, signaling
our conversation was nearing the end. “And I’m sure I can get her
to see that when you’re not around.”

He had already told her she was a part of the
Light. He thought my presence was the only thing holding her back,
but he was wrong.

“It’s not about me, Darthon,” I shouted at
his back as he walked away. “She won’t abandon the Dark.”

He spun around on his heel to face me, but
his expression hadn’t budged. “She doesn’t need to abandon the
Dark,” he said, one step ahead of me. “She only needs to abandon
you, and if you truly love her like the ancient ones say you do,
you’ll let her leave you. She’d be better off with me. She’ll
thrive. She’ll take the Dark to new levels, and she’ll govern a new
state with her power, far beyond yours or mine.”

I couldn’t speak. It was as if he had cut my
tongue out and slit my throat. The information had to be lies, but
it was backed up with facts, with memories I didn’t even
understand, with information the Dark never shared.