Seconds Before Sunrise (The Timely Death Trilogy), page 11
“You can get it at your aunt’s house,” I said.
He jittered. “I will.”
I fought a smile from spreading over my lips. My stepbrother was getting taller, and I hadn’t noticed.
“You’ll be in middle school next year, won’t you?” I asked, and he strode over to the car.
“Yeah.” He didn’t seem as excited as a preteen should’ve been. I wondered if he looked like his father − a man that skipped out when Noah was born.
“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Mindy asked.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Shouldn’t be too difficult,” I said, but my father didn’t speak. He was the one to convince them to leave for the week, but it wasn’t out of sincerity. His absence would help disguise his identity since he talked to the Light. I had already told my teachers he had been gone all week.
“We’ll be right down the street,” Mindy continued, but I knew the exaggeration. They’d be on the opposite side of the town − far enough away that I was surprised it was considered part of Hayworth. Apparently, the town stretched further across the wheat fields than I thought.
“George should be back at any minute,” I tried to soothe their concern. I didn’t have a car to get around, but Camille and Urte would be good enough chauffeurs for the week. It wasn’t like I had plans to go anywhere − aside from a meeting with the elders. I still didn’t know what the Light meeting had entailed, but I’d find out. For once, I would miss my father’s presence.
He laid a hand on my shoulder, but he didn’t look at me. “Don’t forget your doctor’s appointment,” he said. “We’ll be back for Thanksgiving.”
The approaching holiday was a reminder that it was already November. I had one month left.
“I know,” I said, wondering if I referred to their trip or my predicament.
“Have a good time.” Mindy winked. “And no girls over.”
Jessica. The idea of having her over was merely a fantasy, but it felt like a possibility despite the fact that she hadn’t come over in weeks.
“I won’t,” I promised, searching for my father’s gaze. He had already turned his back.
My stomach twisted with nerves. Whatever had happened during the meeting was clearly bothering him, and I had less than an hour before I would find out for myself.
“Bye,” Noah said, rushing toward me. Before I knew it, his arms wrapped around my torso in a hug, and then he was running to the car. They got in, and I lifted my hand to wave. Mindy waved back, and they left. They were gone, safe for now.
I stood there until George pulled into the driveway in a car I’d never seen before. I gawked at the rusted can that was his vehicle. When he got out, it rocked from side to side.
“What,” I began, “is that?”
He shoved the keys into my palm before answering. “Yours,” he said. “It was Mindy’s sisters.”
I couldn’t speak.
George shrugged. “It’s why they wanted you to go,” he explained. “But we both know that couldn’t happen.” Not with the meeting taking place. “I picked it up, so you’d have it while they were gone.”
I stared at the old metal key in my palm. It was as weathered as the vehicle, yet it felt better than the Charger I’d been given. It wasn’t a death gift. It was freedom.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
The car looked European by the size, but it had to be impossible considering the condition it was in. The antenna had been stolen, and the mirrors were cracked down the middle. I wasn’t even sure what the color of the car was supposed to be. One door was blue while the others were stained brown with dirt. A pearl paint peeked through.
“They didn’t even stay to tell me,” I said.
“Because that doesn’t matter,” George said, opening the door. It clanked like it would fall off. “Family doesn’t help one another to be praised.”
Family. The word was something I had never expected.
“I’ll have to thank them when they get back,” I said.
George pointed at the driver’s seat. “Are you going to drive or not?” he asked. “It doesn’t go over forty, so you don’t have to worry about crashing at high speeds again.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but my thoughts prevented my laughter.
“Something wrong, Eric?” George asked.
I got into the car before he could read the expression on my face. I couldn’t tell him what I was thinking.
“Let’s go to that meeting.” I turned over the engine as he sat down in the passenger seat. The car vibrated beneath us.
“Is the meeting bothering you?” he asked as I drove the automatic down the driveway.
“No.” That was my last concern. The war was my first. More people would die, and I didn’t know what Mindy and Noah would do if my father died.
I no longer wanted to win solely for Jessica. I wanted to protect my family, too.
…
The meeting wasn’t in the usual spot. On top of that, it was in a house I’d never stepped foot in before. It was smaller than mine, and it was in Jessica’s neighborhood, but being close to her wasn’t the hardest part. It was the identity I was facing.
“Make yourselves at home,” Eu said, but he wasn’t Eu. He was Quin Stephens, and he was the owner of a restaurant in town. His wife, Ida, worked at the hospital. She was Chinese, but I couldn’t recall seeing an Asian woman in the shelter. Even races changed in their supernatural forms. I wondered what else could.
“Please, take a seat,” Ida said, handing me a glass of water.
I followed her instructions and sat down on the nearest chair I could find. A coffee table was placed in the middle of a circle of seats, but imprints on the carpet told me they had moved their furniture around just for the meeting.
“Why didn’t we meet in the shelter?” I blurted out.
Ida placed her tea on the table between us. “The shelter was too risky,” she said in a quiet voice.
“And this isn’t?” I asked, glancing over the photos on the table. They had three daughters, all under the age of thirteen. They hadn’t been Named yet.
“It’s our anniversary,” Eu – Quin − explained as he laid his hands on his wife’s petite shoulders. “It doesn’t look very suspicious that way.”
“Will it just be us?” Urte asked, remaining as George. His son, Jonathon, stood behind him.
The couple nodded. “Luthicer cannot reveal his identity.”
My stomach lurched. “And you can?”
“We offered,” Ida said.
“You see, Eric,” Eu continued. “Ida stepped in as your mother during the meeting.”
I couldn’t move.
“We couldn’t allow Darthon’s parents to realize you only had a father.”
“It was a risk,” George said, aware of the information. He sat next to me, but Jonathon remained standing.
I gazed past them and met Ida’s brown eyes. “Thank you,” I said.
Her expression softened. “I don’t need any praise, Shoman.”
George’s words of family resonated. To her, I was her family’s lives. Risking herself was nothing if it guaranteed her daughters’ survival.
My fingers tightened, but I forced them to relax. I didn’t want to seem unappreciative, but the gesture stung. If my mother hadn’t killed herself, it wouldn’t have been necessary. The small, black box she’d left behind suddenly seemed selfish.
“What were his parents like?” I asked.
“As intense as we expected them to be,” Ida said. “But they didn’t say anything about the third descendant.”
The report unnerved me. “They should’ve.”
“We expected them to,” Ida agreed. “But it seems we’ve over-thought their actions. They want bloodshed − not a strategy to win but a strategy to take out as many people as possible before they lose.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It doesn’t change the decision either way,” Eu spoke up. “We agreed to a battle.”
“How are we supposed to cover up all of the deaths?” I asked. “It’s not the Middle Ages. We can’t blame something like the black plague.”
“You worry about your training, and we will worry about the funerals,” he said.
“Your birthday is the concern,” Ida added.
I tightened my grip on my glass. Condensation dripped between my fingers. “I’ll be healed soon,” I started to argue, but Ida held her palm up.
“The Light can feel it approaching,” she clarified. “Your identity is in more jeopardy than ever before.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “Is it possible they already know?”
They didn’t respond, but instinctually, I felt as if they did.
“December thirteenth.” George’s words lingered. “It falls on a Friday this year.”
“Great.” I muttered. “Friday the 13th. Just what we need.”
“That’s just an old superstition,” he said.
“Some of us call those omens.”
“Enough,” Eu interrupted. “We don’t have time to worry about that. People are already booking hotels near the area.”
I tensed. “Why would they do that?”
“The holidays,” he suggested, but everyone knew it was a lie.
“It’s too early for that.” George was the first to say it aloud.
My hand shook as I placed my cup down. It rattled against the glass, and everyone stared at the swishing water. “They know,” I said. I didn’t know what to do.
George grabbed my arm. “It’s entirely possible that shades and lights who have left are being drawn in by the increasing energies.”
“That means the war is part of the destiny,” Ida agreed. “The prophecy never clarified you two would be the only ones involved − just that Darthon and you would fight.” To the death.
I ignored their comfort. “If they know my identity, they surely know Jessica’s.”
“Then, why not attack her?” Eu pointed out.
“It could be a part of their survival plan,” I said, wondering if I believed in my argument or not. The Light could’ve been tempting us with the belief that they knew, so we would reveal our identities out of desperation.
“It could be a trick,” Ida spoke my thoughts out loud. “We must be careful with our decision.”
I turned to face Jonathon. “Where is Jessica right now?”
He was the only one who remained calm. “At home,” he answered. “The Light hasn’t approached her street since Eric’s car wreck.”
The information was the only comfort I’d had all night.
“We aren’t bringing her memory back,” I decided.
“But your birthday—”
“Let them come to me,” I said, leaping to my feet. I was pacing like my father. “We’ll have to narrow down Darthon’s identity.”
“How?”
I thought of my car wreck. “If he’s like me, he can’t leave this town.”
“We don’t know if that’s why your car wreck occurred,” Eu argued. “It’s a simple theory.”
“We’re left with theories, and they have facts,” George grumbled.
I placed my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from speaking. I had a car. I could test the theory out, but it could result in more injuries that I didn’t have time for. I was about to be healed, and I could fight, even if Darthon showed up at my house. Risking anything was more of a threat than Darthon’s potential knowledge, yet I was contemplating it.
“I’m going home,” I announced.
I had to test my boundaries if I were going to get anywhere at all. No one stopped me, and I left the room, walked down the hallway, and hesitated at the sound of children. Eu’s daughters were playing a board game.
“Eric.”
I turned around to face their father. Quin got within inches of me so he could shut the door. It didn’t prevent me from hearing their loud giggles.
“I didn’t know you had children,” I managed.
“I do.” Quin held the doorknob with whitened fingers. “And it’d be best if you forgot such information.”
I knew what he was really saying − don’t lose focus.
It was the main reason the Dark insisted on keeping fellow shades’ identities a secret. If we knew, especially from a young age, we’d treat one another differently. We might even reveal ourselves. It was the only rule I was positive we shared with the Light. It was risky, even for them. Identity was a delicate process to create, but simple to destroy.
“Thank your wife again for her help,” I said, knowing it’d be the last time I mentioned Ida to him. I walked away, but he grabbed my jacket.
“Don’t make any rash decisions, Eric,” he said.
I pulled back. “Who said I was going to?”
His upper lip twitched. “You forget that I grew up with your father,” he said. “I can recognize that expression, even under the darkest circumstances.”
I looked over Eu’s face as Quin Stephens. He was thinner and taller. His nose protruded over his mouth, and he was much younger than I had always suspected. He was another man I didn’t know − but he knew me, and that was enough for me to agree.
“I’ll think it over,” I promised, ending our conversation in a place I hadn’t anticipated − rationally.
Jessica
“We’re going tomorrow,” Crystal announced, flopping down on her bed. Her face was practically in my lap.
“Going where?” Robb mumbled, flipping through his math homework. A calculator dangled off his leg.
Crystal swiped the technology away from him. “The bar,” she said, demanding his attention. “You guys should’ve saved enough money up by now.”
“I have,” Robb said, glancing at me.
“I could borrow some from my parents—”
“Too risky,” Crystal said. “Why would you borrow money for a sleepover at my house?”
“I’m—I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I didn’t think it through.”
“No worries.” She waved me away. “I’ll cover you.”
Robb shut his textbook with a loud thump. “You’re really set on this outing, aren’t you?”
She stuck her bottom lip out. For once, she didn’t have her piercing in or her makeup on. She looked three years younger. “I thought you guys wanted to.”
“Sure,” Robb said, but his words didn’t match his tone. Crystal looked like she was about to hit him, but she stopped when his phone rang.
He jumped, yanking it from his pocket, and stared at the screen. He didn’t move, and Crystal leaned over to see the name.
“What does Zac want?” she asked.
Robb pulled it away from her eyes. “I’ll be back,” he said, answering his phone as he left Crystal’s bedroom. His voice drifted down the hallway.
Crystal slouched against the wall. “Why wouldn’t he answer it in front of us?” she complained.
“I don’t know,” I said, snatching my coat off of Crystal’s chair.
She sat up. “What are you doing?”
“Going outside,” I responded. I had to ask Robb why Zac had his car two days ago, and the opportunity to do it in private was diminishing.
“Jess.” Crystal sounded hurt. I knew she was worried about Zac. “He’s on the phone.”
“I know.” I finished buttoning my coat. “But I have to ask him something.”
I dashed after Robb and prayed Crystal wouldn’t follow. I made it to the front door without her calling after me and sighed as I laid my hand on the door handle. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I didn’t want Robb to hear me.
I cracked the door open and slipped through. The cold air smacked me, and I inhaled with careful precision. I didn’t want to make any more noises than I needed to.
Tiptoeing across the driveway, I heard Robb’s voice from behind the garage. “I can’t tomorrow,” he spoke into his phone. “I’m going out with Crystal.” He paused. “No one else is going.”
I clutched my jacket, wondering why he lied about me.
“We’ll talk when I get home,” he continued, and I used his talking to my advantage. I stepped closer. “About ten,” he said.
I could hear Zac’s deep voice on the other end. “Okay. See you then,” he said.
Robb’s phone beeped. He hung up just as I smelt it.
I leapt out, unable to stop myself, and Robb spun around with his mouth hanging open. A cigarette dangled from his bottom lip.
“You smoke?” I asked.
His shoulders dropped. “It’s disgusting, I know,” he sighed, his back against the garage. “And, no. I just—” He stopped speaking when I stepped closer. He looked awkward with a cigarette in his mouth, like he wasn’t even breathing it in.
“How’d you even get those?”
“I’m eighteen, Jess,” he said, pulling the tobacco stick from his mouth. He held it between his fingers as the cold wind blew by, lighting up the end. “Can I ask you something?”
“Um—sure,” I managed, unsure of how the situation had changed. I was supposed to be the one asking questions, not him.
“Why have you stopped arguing with Crystal?”
A squeaking noise escaped my lungs, and his lips twisted as he put the cigarette back in his mouth. It bounced as he talked, “Don’t get me wrong, Jess, but last semester, you made it pretty clear you don’t drink. Ever.”
“I’ve had a drink before,” I argued.
Robb took a drag, and he squinted. “Taking a sip from your mother’s wine glass doesn’t count.”
Heat rushed over my cheeks, and he leaned forward, skimming my face with his knuckle. His hand smelt like smoke. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered.
I dropped my face to avoid his touch, but his hand lingered in the air. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground. It bounced past our feet in a trail of smoke, sizzling out quicker than I expected it to.
“I don’t think you should come tomorrow,” Robb said.
My neck popped when I looked up. “Why?”
His sigh was a visual fog in the chilly weather. “Mixing alcohol and emotions is never a good combination.”
I crossed my arms, contradicting my words, “I’m not emotional.”
