45
Jessica
I felt every single molecule of mine reform, pulling and burning and twisting until I was whole again. I gasped as the light faded, and my vision returned. I was no longer in the grassy brush watching Shoman fight. Instead, I was standing in a golden office, filled with books, paperwork, and a man—one I’d seen before.
Eric’s father leapt from his chair, and his glasses fell from his face. “Camille—”
“Eric’s in trouble, sir,” she said, letting go of my arm.
My skin was burned where she’d touched me.
“And I wouldn’t have helped this girl if he hadn’t ordered me to, but—”
Eric’s father replaced his glasses with shaky hands. “Jess?” His brown eyes were slits. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Mr. Welborn,” I squeaked, and Camille’s jaw dropped.
“You know her?”
“She’s Eric’s—uh—”
“Forget it,” Camille said. “We have to get the others. Eric’s in trouble.”
Mr. Welborn looked between us. “What kind of trouble?”
“I’m not sure,” Camille said. “He’s fighting a light.”
“He’s fighting Darthon,” I corrected, and Camille gaped at me.
“You can’t be—”
“The third descendant,” Mr. Welborn said, and I threw my hands in the air.
“What does that even mean?” I shouted before I realized I even had the energy to raise my voice. Darthon had said it too, but Shoman told me that didn’t exist. He lied.
“He never told you?” Mr. Welborn asked, and I shook my head.
“I don’t think that matters right now,” I said.
Camille nodded, grabbing my arm—again. “Let’s go.”
Before I could protest, my body ripped apart and reformed. I thought I was going to puke. I hunched over, catching my breath, and a man’s hand landed on my back. “It’s hard the first few times,” he said, and my head spun.
At first, I thought I was looking at Shoman, but I wasn’t. The speaker was an older man, with the same thick black hair and striking blues eyes. Eric’s father. Of course he was a shade, too. It was genetic.
“If you guys are so capable of transporting, why didn’t Shoman just transport us both out?” I managed to speak through my nausea and confusion.
Camille’s face fell when I looked up. “He can’t when there’s a light around.”
I understood now. She was a half-breed. She could’ve saved him instead of me, but she hadn’t. She listened to Shoman.
“We’re in the shelter,” Camille said, forcing me to sit on the floor. “You’re safe here.”
As she spoke, a thick black smoke clouded the air, and four men fell out. One was my age—tall, strong, and overly buff—but the other three were older.
“Bracke,” a man with green eyes and a short black beard spoke first. “What’s happened? Why is there a human here?”
I glared back. “I’m not entirely human.”
A white-haired man—a mirror image of Camille—allowed his eyes to trace over me. “The third descendant.”
“We’ve gone over this,” I said. “I think we need to concentrate on Eric.”
Everyone gasped, and Camille kneeled by my side. “How do you know his name?”
“I figured it out,” I said, leaping to my feet. “So can we go help him now?”
“He’s fighting Darthon,” Bracke—Eric’s father—said, and the four men spun toward him.
“But The Marking of Change is eight months away.”
“I know.”
“I’ll go after him,” the green-eyed man said, and the boy my age took his side.
“We both will.” They were obviously related.
Bracke waved, and the two men turned to Camille. Her dark eyes lit up white. “He’s in the forest,” she said, and they were gone.
I coughed as their fog disappeared, and the shortest man stepped forward. “How could this happen?”
“I don’t know, Eu,” Bracke said, shaking his head. “But I’ll go too.”
“You know you cannot,” he said. “It’s too risky.”
“He’s my son,” he said, and then Bracke was gone.
Only Camille, the half-breed man, and the shortest man remained, and all of them looked at me. “I’m going, too,” I said, trying to activate my powers, but Camille suffocated the air with Light energy. My entire body burned.
“Don’t,” she said, smiling quickly. “There’s a reason why Shoman protected you. We’ll explain later.”
The half-breed elder nodded. “You have to stay here—uh—”
“Jess,” I said, and the others tensed, unsure of how to take my name. Identity was everything, but it seemed I never had one.
“Luthicer,” he introduced himself. “Does Darthon know who you are?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“He definitely didn’t think I was this third descendant.”
Luthicer flinched. “You don’t even know what you are,” he said.
“Eric never told her,” Camille whispered, and Luthicer’s brow rose.
“He’s protecting her.”
“I am right here,” I said, crossing my arms, and Luthicer acknowledged me.
“That’s an unfortunate thing, Jess,” he said, opening the nearest door. “You need to stay in here; it’s a safety room. Eu will protect you—”
“I’m tired of being protected!”
“You don’t have a choice,” Luthicer said, reaching out to grab me, but I pulled away.
“Promise that Eric will survive,” I said, and he hesitated. Even I knew he couldn’t promise something out of his control, but I wanted to hear it.
“I promise.”
“Then I’ll stay,” I said, storming into the room.
The others didn’t move, but I pulled the door shut. I breathed, and they dissipated, leaving Eu outside my room. But I could transport now that Camille was gone. And they couldn’t stop me from saving Eric, too.