Death Before Daylight (15 page)

My father waved her away, and she obeyed
because she had to. He held the authority now. Not Darthon.

“You’ll heal faster now than you did from
your car wreck,” he said as she left the room. “We found you before
any humans did.”

I sighed. If humans had found me, I would’ve
been in the hospital for days. Now, I would be fully healed in that
time.

My mind spun, but I drowned out my thoughts
and leaned back, tracing the dark ceiling before I closed my eyes.
I breathed in the scent of the shelter, the thick musk of the earth
we took safety in. I had never noticed the smell until now.
Correction—I had never taken the time to notice it.

“You can tell we are underground,” I
whispered.

My father didn’t respond.

I opened my eyes to make sure he was still
there, and he was, sitting in a chair by my bedside. “I wonder—” I
stopped myself from telling him what I was thinking. What else
hadn’t I noticed? What else had brushed past me during my training
days? Were there other parts I hadn’t smelled, or touched, or felt?
I couldn’t believe I had ever been alive at all.

When my dad finally spoke, he said the last
thing I thought he would say, “It’s going to be hard returning to
your normal life.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his
knees. “It always is after something catastrophic. Take your
time.”

“Catastrophic?” I repeated the word like I
had never heard it before. Was the Light realm catastrophic? It
soaked into me just like my own blood had. But that wasn’t the
worst part.

A memory. A problem. Something that had been
said. A thing that had happened. I wasn’t sure I could remember,
but it lingered like my injuries, pushed against my skull like a
migraine.

I shivered.

“Jess is all right,” my father guessed what I
was thinking.

Jessica.

Her name struck me.

Stay away from Jessica.
It was
Darthon’s deal—his orders—his face was melding right in front of
me, but it tore apart when I breathed her name, “Jessica.” I sat
up, looking around the room for her, but we were alone. “Where is
she? What did Darthon do to her?”

“Relax.” It sounded like an order. “There was
barely a scratch on her.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “She wasn’t
hurt?”

“She was a little delirious when we found
you,” he admitted. “Other than that, she was the same as she was
when you were kidnapped.”

The same. Darthon hadn’t hurt her at all. Not
a single bit. He had kept his word, and now, I had to keep
mine.

It couldn’t be true.

Darthon’s deal had to be a dream, a fluke in
my memories, an illusion brought on by torture. After all, I had
been killed—hadn’t I?—and I was unconscious. I didn’t even know how
long I had been out.

“What day is it?”

“You were gone for three days.” That was
it.

My father’s face twisted into a wrinkled
frown. “We tried so hard—so, so hard—to get you both out, but we
couldn’t even reach you. It was impossible.”

“Dad.” I stopped him. “This isn’t your
fault.”

“We should’ve been able to do something—”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t even do
anything.” Not there. Not in that realm.

“How are you alive?” he asked, but his words
stuttered out.

He knew what I did. Shades died in the Light
realm. Even Camille—a half-breed—succumbed to their power. I
shouldn’t have stood a chance. I knew that when Darthon took
us.

“I—I don’t know.”

Before he could ask another question, a
knocking broke through our conversation. A teenage boy walked in,
and his green eyes locked onto mine. His grin almost broke his
face.

“You’re all right,” Pierce said it like he
would rush across the room, but he leaned against the wall. “You
looked horrible last night.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, you did.” Pierce’s voice cracked, only
calming when he faced my father. “My dad wants to talk to you,
Bracke.”

My father stood up. “Where is he?”

“The meeting room.”

He walked to the exit, only to turn around
and look at me once more. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I know.”

When he spun away, it wasn’t quick enough. I
saw the mist in his eyes, the deepening of his wrinkles as he
fought back his tears. My dad—the man I had only seen cry once—was
about to cry again.

My chest tightened.

“You’ll get to go home tonight,” Pierce said
and broke up my thoughts. “The nurses said you’re healing faster
than any shade they’ve seen before.”

“But—” I gestured to myself. “I’m human.”

He pointed to my arm. An I.V. was in my vein.
“It pumps Dark energy into your bloodstream,” he said. “Only the
latest and greatest by Luthicer.”

The elder I once hated had somehow become a
friend. “That guy is a genius.” But I remembered his daughter,
Jada, and how she came to us the night we left. All my memories
were slowly creeping in with the medicine.

“So, how was it?” Pierce didn’t hold back.
“What was the realm like?”

“I don’t know.” I raised my hand to rub my
head, but I stopped when the I.V. pulled. It stung. “I was
unconscious most of the time.”

“You and Jess both.” Her name. “Neither one
of you will tell me.”

“Where is she?” I asked, fighting the urge to
pull out the medicine so I could check on her myself. “Is she okay?
What did she say?”

“Nothing.” Pierce frowned for the first time
since entering the room. “She’s pretty upset about the whole thing.
Had to fight just to keep her out of here. She wouldn’t even let
the nurses look at her.”

“But she’s okay?” I half-expected them to be
lying. “She’s not hurt at all?”

“Not like you. Just a few scrapes,” Pierce
seconded my father’s story. “But it doesn’t seem right.”

“As long as she’s okay,” I interrupted.

“But why would Darthon hurt you and not touch
her—”

Darthon.

His face formed in my memory. As clear as
Pierce sat in front of me, I saw him. The brown hair and eyes to
match. Robb McLain.

“I know—”
who Darthon is.

The last words didn’t slide off my tongue. I
choked on them. My throat burned where Robb had grabbed me, where
Darthon had placed the illusion on my skin, the one I had agreed
to.

“I know—” I tried to speak again.
Robb
McLain is Darthon. Robb is Darthon. Darthon. I know who he
is.

Not a single word came out.

The illusion was real. I couldn’t tell them.
I couldn’t speak.

“Eric?”

“Jonathon.” I only used his human name to
warn him. “Something—”
isn’t right with me.

There it was again. The burning on my throat,
the spell in my blood. The medicine was acid. I yanked it out.

Pierce leapt up. “Eric—”

“I’m fine,” I stuttered, unable to look at
him as I realized the truth. A lie had escaped me, but the truth
was impossible to explain. Darthon was controlling me.

“Eric?”

Her voice was the only reason I didn’t
panic.

Jessica stood in the doorway. Her curly hair
was pulled back, causing her blue eyes to look wider than usual,
and her cheeks flushed when I met her gaze. She rushed across the
room before I could muster a word.

Unlike the others, she wasn’t afraid of my
injuries. She touched me like she always had, dug her nails against
her palm like I always hated. I grabbed her hand to stop her from
doing it. Her skin was soft.

“Sorry,” she muttered, knowing what she had
done, but her face lit up. “How are you? Are you okay? Have you
eaten yet?”

I laid my palm on her face and dragged my
thumb over her cheekbone. “Stop worrying about me,” I said. “How
are you?”

She bit her lip before she said, “I’m really
happy you’re okay.” She was still worrying about me, still refusing
to listen to me. As much as it bothered me, it reminded me of the
reasons I loved her. And she was right in front of me again.

“I’m fine, if anyone was wondering,” Pierce
spoke up. “Other than being ignored, of course.”

Jessica laughed, and it was the sweetest
sound I had ever heard.

“Shut up, Jonathon,” she spoke through her
giggles, but she wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes. I
wondered if she was crying out of happiness, relief, or fear. I
wanted to know.

“Scorn me for worrying about you two,” Pierce
continued sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m your guard or best
friend or anything like that.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he stuck
his tongue out back. Like children, they giggled. Like an adult, I
watched. But Jessica’s focus was back to me, and I knew she heard
my silence over Pierce’s voice.

“Eric—”

“I’m okay,” I said before she could question
me, and I pulled her against my chest before she could look at my
face and know I had lied. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I whispered
against her forehead before I kissed it. She tensed against me.

I tensed, too, but for a different reason.
Stay away.
I knew Darthon’s first rule.

“
Jessica,”
I spoke to her in silence.
“Can you hear me?”

Instead of pushing against my chest, she
pulled herself away, so she could see me. “Of course I can.”

“
I have to tell you—”

My brain singed when I tried to tell her who
Darthon was. I grabbed my scalp.

“Eric.” Her nails were against my arm. “Eric,
are you okay? What happened? Did I hurt you?” She moved away again,
and I was cold.

I shook my head. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“What is it, man?” Pierce spoke up. “What’s
going on?”

I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. Not
a single sound.

I felt myself pale.

Jessica said my name again.

“Do you have a pen?” I asked.

Pierce leaned over to the nurse’s station and
grabbed one without question. “Want some paper, too?”

I glared at him.

He chuckled like our lives weren’t at stake.
“Here.” He handed me both.

I gripped the pen, but it froze in my
fingers. I couldn’t even write it down. I dropped it.

“What is going on?” Jessica’s high-pitched
voice rose. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell them. The
only thing that happened was the burning in my throat, the touch of
Darthon’s fingers on my neck. He was controlling me, and I had
agreed to it. There was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t
warn Jessica or confess to Pierce, and I definitely couldn’t fight
it. I didn’t have free will anymore—not until I broke the
illusion—and that meant one thing.

I had to break up with Jessica.

20

“Eric’s acting weird,” I spoke to Jonathon
after art class. Eric had avoided me all morning, but he also
avoided Jonathon. He hadn’t spoken to anyone that I knew of, but he
couldn’t avoid me in homeroom.

Jonathon scratched the paint off his
fingernails. “You two went through a lot.” When I didn’t respond,
Jonathon adjusted his glasses. “Just give him time.”

Time—it was the last thing we had, but Eric
was acting as if it existed. After he woke up at the shelter, he
paced the room like his father often did, and then, he left. He
didn’t even say goodbye. Jonathon was the only reason I didn’t
follow. My guard took me home instead, and he kept repeating how
Eric needed time. It reminded me of how much time Jonathon had with
Eric. They had known one another since birth. I had only been
around for one year—a year that felt much longer than it should
have.

“Just stay focused,” Jonathon said before I
could walk away.
“Darthon could come back.”

“
I know.”
He didn’t have to remind me.
“I’ll see you after school.”

Jonathon nodded, and with that, he was gone,
off to his other courses with the crowd of students he disappeared
into. I joined the crowd and walked into my homeroom, knowing Eric
wouldn’t arrive until the bell rang.

Crystal was the first one to approach me.
“Welcome back.” It didn’t sound welcoming at all.

I laid my bag on my table. “Hey.”

Eric’s seat was empty until Crystal sat in
it. “How was your trip?”

“It was okay,” I said, waiting for the
interrogation to continue.

Crystal had the right to be upset. She was my
best friend, and I hadn’t told her anything. It wasn’t like I
could, but she didn’t know that. I would’ve been upset with her,
too.

She folded her arms, but a smile finally
broke her lips. “Tell me about it at lunch?”

“Sure.”

When she got up and left, I knew Eric was
behind me. I could feel his heartbeat in my veins. Even though we
were back from the realm, the sensation hadn’t left, but it was
different now, stronger and pounding. Like he was scared.

I watched as he took his seat, and I didn’t
stop when I sat next to him. He refused to make eye contact with
me, and if I tried to catch his eyes, he focused on his bandages.
He had three—one wrapped around his torso, and two circled his
wrists—but I could only see one that encased his hand. His long
sleeves hid the rest. They would be off before tonight.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“Class is going to start,” he said, just as
Ms. Hinkel came in and demanded our attention.

Homeroom passed, and when the bell rang, he
gathered his things without talking to me. Sweat collected on his
brow. His heartbeat increased.

I grabbed his arm before he could walk away.
“What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” His sunken eyes made him look asleep,
like he was stuck in a dreamland far away from me.

“You’ve been quiet all morning.” I walked by
his side as he headed for the lunchroom. “Are you tired?”

He didn’t respond.

“Do you have a headache?” I searched his face
for any sign of response, but his expression was stoic. “If it’s
from your concussion, you should relax—”