Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Shy and the Council

Natalie and I spend the next few days searching for Vera and staking out Anora’s house, only to find it more boring than patrolling Nacoma Knight. Natalie was beyond pissed that I risked discovery by changing to my human form while Anora was stargazing. But the strange connection between us compelled me to talk to her in the same way that it draws me to her whenever we’re at school. I should be worried about what it means and be more mistrustful of her, but I’m not. Natalie thinks I’m a fool and Anora is putting on a show.

“She doesn’t want to draw attention to herself,” Natalie argues.

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“I know she’s not who she says she is.”

“You can’t keep saying that without substantial evidence.”

And we have none. The hellhounds have camped outside her house, but they don’t do anything but sleep—something I make sure to include in my reports to Elite Cain at the end of every patrol. Whatever they’re doing with Anora, she doesn’t seem to be actively causing it.

“I have evidence.” Natalie tries to repress a smile, and I hate that she has something to be smug about. “Your girlfriend’s going by her middle name. According to her forwarded mail, her first name is Lyra.”

I should have known Natalie would take the liberty of investigating Anora on her own. She’s hoping to prove me wrong and beat me to uncovering some earth-shattering truth about the new girl.

“First, she’s not my girlfriend. Second, you went through her mail? Isn’t that a federal offense?”

Natalie shrugs. “Only if you open it.”

“A lot of people go by their middle name, Nat. It doesn’t mean anything.” Her eyes narrow. “Besides, you’re supposed to be looking for evidence she’s practicing the occult.”

“It’s not just her name, Shy. The school she claims to come from has no record of her enrollment. You don’t find that strange?”

Sure, I find it strange, and I’m curious as hell about the truth, and while lying about where you’re from is weird, it doesn’t actually break our laws.

“No matter what reason Anora has for being here, it’s not our concern unless she starts practicing the occult.”

Whatever she is, she’s human and has lived a human life. She could be running from other problems. I haven’t seen a man at her house throughout our week of surveillance, which tells me her dad probably isn’t in the picture, and if she and her mother are running from him, I doubt she wants him to find her easily.

* * *

Back at school, I have every intention of keeping my distance from Anora for the week, especially since Natalie has become increasingly clingy. I can’t turn a corner without her appearing out of thin air. I don’t expect to think about or regret my decision, and yet I discover the longer I go without talking to Anora, the more pressure builds, like someone’s stacking stones on my chest. At first, a glance or a smile relieves the tension over my heart, and sitting next to her in class keeps it at bay until patrol, but after one day of avoidance, I’m ready to worship the ground she walks on if it’ll make this feeling go away.

So I find reasons to talk to her. I ask her for notes from the day I missed art and arrange to meet her in the library to pick them up. When I find her, she’s sitting in one of the large bay windows in Covington. She has a book in her hands, but she’s not reading it. She’s looking out the window. I stare at her like a creep, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve been here before, admiring her from a distance. I like the way her long hair spills down her back, the way her graceful fingers curl around the edges of her book. I wonder how soft her hands are, how it would feel to hold them—to have them on me.

I shake those thoughts from my head, and I approach.

“Hey,” I say.

She looks up at me and smiles, offering a breathless, “Hey.”

It makes my chest feel lighter, and I think I could spend my whole life making her smile.

“What are you reading?” I ask, nodding to the book in her hands.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, closing it and moving her hands over the title.

I reach for the book anyway, brushing my fingers over her skin. She is soft, and a surge of electricity sparks between us. She draws her hands away. I try not to let that disappoint me and instead focus on the book.

I hold it up, reading the title aloud. “A Simple Guide to Astrophysics?” The last word comes out as a question because I’m surprised. I look at Anora, then at the book, then at the pile by her feet. They are all books about space. “First the telescope, and now this. Are you into space?”

She blushes. “Yeah, actually. I want to be an astronomer.”

“That’s so cool.”

She laughs and smiles again. “Thanks.”

Yeah, I think I’ll do just about anything for her smile. We stare at each other for a moment, and then she clears her throat. “Um, you wanted notes, right?”

“Yeah.”

She stands and starts gathering her books.

“Are you checking all these out?” I ask.

She surveys the pile. “Maybe just two. We have a lot of English homework this week.”

I smirk and walk with her to the copier.

“So back in Chicago…did you have a boyfriend?” After I ask the question, I feel the change in the air between us, and it’s not good. This isn’t the subject to bring up.

“I did,” she says, not looking at me. Making copies just became super interesting. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling really freaking awkward now. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Once the copies are made, she holds them out to me, and I try to apologize, but before I can get the words out, she says, “I’ll see you.”

“See you,” I say, but I don’t think she hears me.

Throughout the rest of the week, I continue to find reasons to talk to her. Stupid reasons. I ask her for pencils or paper or how far she’s gotten on A Simple Guide to Astrophysics—that question gets a smile. Each interaction eases the tension in my chest. The release is intoxicating.

On Friday, I jog up to her during practice just to ask if she’s coming to the game. When she says yes, I smile bigger than I mean to. It’s probably the best thing that will come out of today, since I’m not really looking forward to picking Roth up at four, but I’ll do it to sit in on Council, even if it means missing half the game.

As I turn to head back to the field, I find Natalie glaring at me.

“Look alive, Savior!”

Unlike Anora on her first day, I’m not fast enough to stop the ball from hitting me square in the face. Blood gushes from my nose.

“That’s what you get for daydreaming. Off the field!” Coach Roberts orders.

I don’t argue. I need an excuse to leave practice early anyway, though I’d have preferred something less bloody and painful.

I’m going to be in so much trouble with Coach.

I go to the bathroom and turn on the faucet, watching blood swirl down the sink as I clean my face and try to stop my nose from bleeding before changing and heading to my Jeep. I hope to slip away unnoticed, but Jacobi calls out.

“Shy!”

I keep walking, pretending I don’t hear him, but after a few minutes, Jacobi jogs up beside me.

“Where are you going, man?”

“I’ve gotta pick up a lockbox for Mom before the game. I promised.”

“You know Coach is looking for you?”

“Yeah, not surprising.”

I’m not sticking around to get yelled at right now. When Jacobi realizes I’m not turning around, he says, “Need some company?”

“Might be best if you stay behind, explain my absence.”

“And let Coach blame me for not keeping you in the locker room? I’ll pass.”

He continues to walk with me, and I hate that I’m going to have to find a way to ditch my best friend.

“Look, Jacobi.” I stop and turn toward him, cutting off his path. “You’re second-string quarterback. One of us has to be here.”

His smile falters a little. “Sounds like whatever you’re leaving for is more than just a lockbox pickup.”

“I’ll be back. I just might need you to start for me.”

“Shy.” Jacobi hesitates. “I can’t—”

“Jacobi.” I clasp his shoulder. “You’re good enough to be quarterback…”

“I’m your backup, Shy. I’m nowhere near as good as you. I know it, you know it, they know it.”

Jacobi’s confidence in his skills is just one reason I’ve kept my appointment as Roth’s glorified gofer a secret from my friends. They’d see it as an honor. I’ve made the mistake of telling them about assignments and scores before. I used to think complaining about them was a way of showing them I’m not as high on the pedestal as they think, but I was wrong. The assignment as Roth’s guard—even though it’s a hoax—will be seen as just another example of favoritism and my complaints about why I don’t want to do it, arrogant.

“Look, don’t psych yourself out. I might be back in time. This is all precautionary. Just in case I get held up.”

“Getting that lockbox, you mean?” Jacobi asks with a raised brow.

I smile. Jacobi knows I’m lying. He takes a step back but grins, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“All right, but if Coach gives me hell, you’re doing my math homework for a week.”

I’ll do his math homework for a whole month to work off the guilt I feel. Jacobi turns on his heels and heads back to the locker room.

It takes about twenty minutes to get to the airport from Nacoma Knight Academy. I roll up in the passenger pickup lane and park, reaching for my phone. Several messages populate my screen, all from Natalie.

Are you still at the field house?

Where are you?

Hello?

I can tell when she’s talked to Jacobi because I get Why didn’t you tell me you were running an errand for your mom? As if I have to answer to her for every move.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and another message pops up in the queue: Are you ignoring me?

I debate whether I should answer, but she’ll just see that as an invitation to talk, and I don’t really want to be bothered right now, so I close out the messages and start a new one for Roth.

Here. Door 3.

I hit Send and wait.

And wait.

Swarms of people come and go with no sign of Roth.

Finally, I start another text. I said I was here.

Just as I hit Send, there’s a tap on my window. I look up to find Roth standing outside my passenger door, a coffee in hand.

Somehow, knowing what kept him in the airport just makes me hate him more.

He hasn’t changed much, except for a new haircut—short on the sides and long on top. Otherwise, he still resembles the same cheating douchebag I met a few years ago. He’s tall and muscular. He takes pride in his physique. I wish I could say it is all for show, but it’s not—Roth is a warrior, far more of a soldier than his father ever was. That’s about all I respect him for, but he’s somehow managed to weasel his way into the hearts of most elites and every female shadow knight. He lays charm on thick—it’s his gift.

“Well, if it isn’t Shy the Savior.” He holds up his coffee. “Hope you don’t mind—I didn’t think you’d want anything.”

I start my Jeep and put the car into gear, biting back a comment about his selfishness. “We’re going to be late.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s Roth’s fault; I’m the one who will get in trouble.

Before he shuts the door, I start moving, a tiny act of defiance. I’m hoping to shorten the drive to town as much as possible. I glance at Roth from the corner of my eye and find him staring down at his phone, a smile cracking across his face.

“You have a girlfriend yet, Savior?” he asks and takes a sip of coffee.

I clench my jaw, trying not to think about Anora, and don’t respond.

“I take that as a no.”

“Didn’t realize you were so interested in my love life.”

“I just think you might be a little nicer if you had one.”

“So you don’t have a girlfriend either?”

“Commitment isn’t my thing.”

“It’s unfortunate you were born Valryn, then.”

Roth laughs. “That’s the cleverest thing you’ve ever said, Savior.”

“If you’re going to be luminary, shouldn’t you be loyal to the Order?”

“Not if they’re not loyal to me.”

I stare at him, not sure what to make of his statement, but I have questions—what exactly is his idea of loyalty?

“If you stare at me any longer, I’ll have to assume you’ve fallen in love, Savior.”

I focus on the road again. Silence ensues, and for a while, all I hear is Roth sipping coffee. It makes me want to punch him in the face. I flex my fingers around my steering wheel.

“You know, as much as I like watching you work, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

My thoughts exactly.

“I’m more than happy to pass off this assignment.”

“Except that would ruin any chance you might have at ranking as a shadow knight.”

I roll my eyes.

“Has it occurred to you to question why you were chosen to guard me? A knight-in-training?”

“If you think I’m underqualified, you should have said something instead of wasting my time.”

He scoffs. “Like you have anything else to do.”

“Yeah, actually. I have a life outside the Compound.”

“Oh really? Tell me how that’s working for you.”

He knows perfectly well how it is working for me. I decide it’s best if I don’t respond.

Council isn’t held at the Compound. It’s held at a creepy-ass mansion that sits on a hill at the end of Frontage Street. We call it Temple. It was once the home of a wealthy Valryn named Nacoma Knight, our school’s namesake. A lot of people in town aren’t too fond of the place, say they feel they’re being watched…and, well, they are. The mansion’s a little more inconspicuous than an obsidian tower. It’s used to house members of the Order from all over the world, sort of like a hotel.

On Council, clusters of ravens swarm overhead like storm clouds. People claim it’s a sign of bad luck. When I was younger, we used to dare human kids to jump the fence and touch the door. They were almost always escorted off the property by men-in-black types, and we were almost always ratted out and made to dust the library, but it was worth it to see the looks on their faces.

I stop at the gate, enter a four-digit code, and pull around to the back, parking alongside a row of sleek, black SUVs—Roth and I aren’t the only Valryn who prefer wheels over wings.

We exit the Jeep and shift. From this point on, I have to remember my etiquette training—keep one step behind your superior at all times…unless there’s a door to open.

Freaking annoying.

Inside, Roth and I are escorted upstairs, where a set of double doors open into a room with several elites crowded around an oblong table. Behind them is a wall of windows that overlook a lake at the back of the mansion. I recognize most of them—including my math teacher, Mr. Val—and several of the shadow knights who circle the table. Their wings are exposed, weapons gleaming. I’m the only knight-in-training. Everyone else has been ranked, given a specialty—techs, medics, weapons, tracking, commands. I can tell because of the colors of their threads and how they decorate their uniforms.

As we enter, everyone in the room stands and salutes. That’s when I realize Roth and I are the last to arrive. I follow everyone’s example, though it causes me physical pain, and salute Roth, falling into rank on the opposite side of the room next to my father. And although he tries to catch my gaze, I avoid it.

“Successor Roth,” Elite Cain says. “We are so sorry to hear of your father’s ailing health.”

Roth offers a curt nod, and his jaw tightens. It’s the first time I’ve seen Roth react to his father’s decline, and I get the sense this might be harder on him than I thought.

Roth moves to the middle of the table but does not sit.

“Shall we begin?” he asks, scanning the room, and I recognize his training kicking into gear. He’s assessing, deciding who’s a threat and who’s not. That move sets me on edge. “I’ve called this meeting to discuss the Order’s efforts to locate the Eurydice.”