Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Shy and the Hellhounds

I stand outside on the highest tier of the Compound, a five-story, obsidian tower and the headquarters for our branch of the Order. There are four in the United States: Oklahoma, New York, California, South Dakota, and one in every country across the world. Compound sites were chosen based on where the Adamantine Gates once stood. Our capitol is in New York. That’s where Maximum DuPont is dying and where Roth will come into power.

At this height, I can see for miles—over the tops of trees to the horizon, painted blue with sky and gray by the lake. The wind is harsh, and I have to hide my wings just to stand in place. Knifelike pinnacles surround me, descending in a spiral like a dizzying set of mechanical teeth. A wall of the same glossy, black stone cuts through the woods around our fortress, covering ten acres and measuring twenty-six feet high. It’s a smooth, impenetrable shield—a reminder of the Valryn’s violent past.

Usually, I hang out and wait for Jacobi, but I’m still feeling the effects of my conversation with Elite Cain. Something about the appointment as Roth’s guard doesn’t feel right. Maybe I’m just worried about Council being called. Still, any Valryn can guess one thing they’ll discuss: the growing number of lost souls on earth feeding darklings, creating new ones every day. It has been impossible to keep up. There are Valryn in the field, discovering, cataloging, and capturing them to test their skills and figure out how they die.

I spread my arms wide, step off the edge of the roof, and fall until the wind is blocked by the trees and I’m able to shift into my raven form, moving easily between the thick trees surrounding the Compound.

I fly until I find my Jeep in the clearing where I left it after school. As I land, I change into my human form. I peel off my sweat-soaked shirt, toss it into the back of my Jeep, and retrieve a fresh one from my bag. Before I’m clothed, feet thud on the ground behind me. I don’t have to turn to know who’s there—I sensed her following me the moment I left the Compound.

“I’m not sure why you bother driving. It’s not like you need to.”

Unlike me, Natalie prefers to fly everywhere she goes, and she tends to forget that she uses my Jeep as a way to explain how she gets from place to place.

I sigh. “What do you want, Natalie?”

Natalie ignores me. “Unless you think it makes you more human.”

I clench my jaw. She’s trying to pick a fight with me.

“Not in the mood, Nat.” I meet her gaze, and we glare at each other until she relents.

“Jacobi’s been put on probation.”

“What?” Probation means Jacobi is banned from participating in patrol, raids, and stings—basically everything he needs credit for if he’s going to graduate and be placed among ranks as a knight.

“Tonight was the third training he failed this month against you. You knew this was coming. Would it kill you to let him win just one?” For all that she follows the rules, she’s different when it comes to Jacobi.

“Jacobi wouldn’t want that,” I snap. “Besides, how would that help him?”

“He wouldn’t be on probation! Do you want him to rank as a knight?”

“I’m not even going to answer that.” I climb into the driver’s side of my Jeep. “You’re not the only one who cares.”

I don’t look at Natalie as I speak. I start my Jeep and peel out, circling her as I leave. My tires move over the gravel road easily, but I find I can’t release my breath until I hit the even surface of the pavement. Natalie’s voice grates against my eardrums, and I set my teeth tighter.

No matter the situation, Natalie has to appear like she cares more than anyone else. She is pretty much viewed as a saint at school and the Compound, and she likes to maintain that reputation.

I travel about five miles down a narrow two-lane road crowded with overgrown trees before turning off toward my house. The gravel pops beneath my tires, and I come to a slow stop. I live on the outskirts of Rayon. My house is a two-story cottage with wood siding and leaded-glass windows. The roof comes to a point in two places, and my mother keeps the garden against the house manicured so not a single shrub rises above the windowsills. This house and the land belong to my father’s family, and it’s been passed down each generation.

It’s just another thing I don’t want to inherit from my father.

I head inside. Even before the door closes, my mom’s voice reaches me. “Shy, is that you?”

“Hey, Mom!” I call back as I take off my shoes in the entryway. My mom’s as sweet as sugar until you track dirt on her floor. She appears as I start to move into the kitchen. I look nothing like her. She’s Irish through and through: red hair, green eyes, a light dusting of freckles, and an accent as thick as the woods around our house. She’s also one of the best medics in our Compound, but she’s been suspended from duty until further notice for basically being a good person. It’s stupid, and it makes me angry just thinking about it.

I have a feeling that’s another reason Dad’s kept his distance…because he’s embarrassed.

“Shy.” She leans forward to press a kiss to my cheek while simultaneously handing me one of her homemade pizza pockets. Nothing—and I mean nothing—frozen comes into this household. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I say quickly and move past her into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “How was yours?”

She sighs. “Busy, but that will change soon. I hired a new agent today.”

“Oh?” I ask, taking a seat at the table and a big bite of pizza pocket. “Who’s the lucky one?”

By day, Mom’s a real estate agent—the best, they say.

“Her name is Jayne Silby.”

I was only half listening before. Now Mom has my whole attention.

She continues. “She’s new to town. Just moved here with her daughter. She’ll have to get her license, but I think she’ll be a great addition to my team.”

“Silby, huh?” Anora said her mother moved here for a job, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. “I think I met her daughter today at school.”

“Was she nice?”

“Very.” My brows rise as I speak—nice, beautiful, odd…familiar. The muscles in my chest tighten as I recall her eyes—heavy-lidded and a mix of green and brown.

“I’m sure she must be pretty if she looks anything like her mother.” Mom’s statement is saturated with sweetness and a hint of warning. She knows just as well as any Valryn that any affection I might develop for a human is wasted…and dangerous. Then, realizing I’m rubbing the spot on my chest where the ache is greatest, I drop my hand.

“Did her mom say why they moved here?”

“Just that things were complicated back home and they were looking for a fresh start.”

The answer disappoints me, but I can’t really blame them for keeping their business to themselves. It just means I’m going to have to work harder to discover the information I want.

I pop the last bite of pizza pocket into my mouth and move to stand. I have patrol tonight, but I need a shower first.

“Did you see your father at the Compound?”

I pause and turn to face my mom. “How many days has it been since you’ve seen him?”

Mom doesn’t respond, suddenly busy with the dishes. I know the answer; I just want to see if she will admit it.

“It’s three, Mom. He hasn’t been home for three days.”

Dad’s day job is as a petroleum engineer for Malachi Black’s Oil & Gas, and once that shift is over, he goes to the Compound where he carries out a variety of orders issued by Elite Cain. There are times when he’s home at four in the morning, but at least I see him at breakfast. That hasn’t been the case the last few days.

“I’m sure he’s busy. You know this whole thing with Luminary Maximum has him stressed.”

It is stressful for all of us.

“That doesn’t mean he can ignore us.” Well, I’d prefer he ignore me. I might escape some of his scrutiny that way, but I know it hurts Mom, and that’s something I can’t stand.

“Shy—”

“I know…don’t talk about your father like that.” I mimic her voice poorly.

“No…just.” She pauses and takes a breath. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. You don’t know what he does for this family.”

She’s right. I don’t.

But I’ll do anything for Mom. I sigh. “I’ll work on that,” I assure her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying upstairs.

After my shower, it’s close to midnight and time for patrol. I climb onto the roof beneath the starry sky, shifting into my hybrid form. They say the night through human eyes is beautiful, peaceful even. But I’m not human, and when stars come out, so do the dead and those who hunt them.

I’m not complaining. Truth is, I enjoy the chaos after dark. The night is my playground. I just wish I got to experience more of it beyond the borders of Nacoma Knight Academy. I glance at my watch: I have fifteen minutes before I have to be at the school, and though I’m anxious to look for Vera, I’m not in a hurry to be back on campus, which only encourages me to stop by Anora’s house. Besides, the more I learn about her, the more I’ll understand my connection to her.

I spread my wings and take off into the night, telling myself it’s just a routine check. Often, when people move to the area, knights keep a closer watch, as darklings find newer energies more enticing and easier to prey upon.

As I near Anora’s, I shift into my raven form and land in a tree outside her house. She has pushed her bike to the edge of her lawn, one leg swung over as if she’s ready to take off, but she’s not moving. Her fingers flex on the handlebars.

I know exactly when the clock strikes midnight because the streetlights begin to flash and the wind picks up, lifting her hair. Her scent fills me: she’s sweet, like a rose. Finally, the streetlights go out completely, and I guess that’s enough to convince her not to take off, because she unhooks her leg from over the bike and walks it back to the house. Then she scales the lattice and crawls into the middle window on the second floor. The light in her room remains illuminated a few moments longer before it goes out. That’s when a pair of bright red eyes ignite in the darkness around her house, followed by a growl.

What the…

A massive doglike creature moves out of the shadow. Skin and matted fur cover parts of the dog, yet in places, bone and muscle peek through. The stench coming off the animal is horrific—decay.

It’s a hellhound, a creation of Charon’s once used to guard the gates into Spirit, normally not a threat, and yet this hound growls at me, bowing low as if to pounce. It can probably sense how much I hate it. I don’t like dogs in any form.

I fly from the tree and away from Anora’s house. The hound follows, howling and slinging slobber as it chases me down the road. Once I’ve left the last house behind me and am surrounded by trees, I shift into my hybrid form and land on the ground, widening my stance. The hound halts before me. His back looks bent, and his hips are narrow, as if he’s been run over.

“You’re an ugly bastard.”

The hound howls, blowing sticky, rotting breath in my face. I choke on the stench and unsheathe the blades on my back. “That”—I jump into the air and come down on top of the hellhound—“was rude.”

My blade sinks easily into the demonic dog, and the howl that escapes the creature’s mouth is more like the whistle of a freight train. He starts to move and shake his head vigorously, trying to throw me off and get the blades out. I pull my knives free and jump off, landing in the middle of the road. The hound tries to run, stumbles, and falls, finally halting some distance from me, dead.

I let out a breath, relieved the creature wasn’t harder to destroy, but then something inside it starts to move. A sick feeling settles in my stomach as the body of the hound explodes and several smaller but equally terrifying hounds emerge. There are five in total. They all turn and growl at me, baring razor-sharp teeth.

“Dammit.”

I’m pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.

The hounds attack all at once. I slash at the creature closest to me and then jump into the air, hovering over the others as they snap at me. I land behind them and strike, charging at the pack. I manage to hit the hound on my left and the one in front of me with my blades, but the third grabs my right arm, his teeth sinking deep into my skin. The pain is cruel. I drop the blade and rip my arm away, jamming my second blade through the dog’s eye. It yelps but only springs back into formation with the other four, unharmed hounds.

This is not how I was taught to defeat a hellhound. In practice, we are made to fight holograms, which are programmed to act just like the real thing. Hellhounds are all but indestructible unless you skewer their brain, or so I thought.

They crouch low and bare their teeth, growling in unison and collectively smelling like a pit of dead bodies.

Sometimes my job is the worst.

I tighten my grip on my blade and pull a small scythe-like weapon from the holster on my thigh, wincing at the shot of pain that bolts up my arm. The hounds inch toward me. I mimic their stance, bending my legs, preparing to jump before they attack.

Then the hounds halt and go quiet, and their ears perk, listening to something I can’t hear. After a moment, they turn their heads up to the sky and howl. The sound pierces me, like an arrow through smoke, and I pray to Charon they aren’t summoning more of their kind.

Suddenly, the hounds bolt, moving together in a pack down the street, and while I’d prefer to be rid of them, I can’t let them cause havoc. Most importantly, I need to figure out where they came from, but the hounds are fast, teasing like will-o-the-wisps, disappearing into the tree line. I fly overhead and drop, wingless, below the branches in an attempt to follow, but the hounds are out of my sight. The only indication that they’re still running is the sound of breaking branches.

I follow the tracks until they disappear—not into a hole or a lake or anything, just until they vanish into thin air. I halt, breathless, tangled in the tree limbs.

“Dammit!” I hit the tree with my fist. “Ah!” Pain fires up my arm, and I sink against the trunk. My heart throbs in my chest, causing the rest of my body to vibrate painfully.

I sit for a while, attempting to gain control and make sense of what happened. I don’t think a Valryn has ever reported a hellhound attack. I should have been more careful, but I had no reason to suspect the hellhound would chase me—or multiply or not die. We are both Charon’s creations; surely it could sense that.

I should jump at the chance to turn this information over to the Order. It’s not my job to question the whys. This could aid in my placement as a commander or even an elite. And yet something about the incident and their presence at Anora’s house keeps me from getting out my phone and making the call.

I swallow hard and rub the spot on my chest where my skin is pinched and uncomfortable. My arm screams in protest. If I could reach in and rip out the hold Anora has on me, I would, but I don’t have anything to grasp, no thread that might lead me to the answer of who she is, and until I figure it out, until Council is over, I’m going to keep this whole ordeal to myself. I just have to treat this wound before it becomes infected. I wonder if Mom has any medical supplies lying around from before she was suspended.

Like her, I’m choosing the rules I want to obey.