When Stars Come Out (When Stars Come Out 1)

I should probably ease my grip on the steering wheel because my arm is throbbing, but Natalie’s question sets me on edge.

When I don’t answer, she says, “I didn’t tell Elite Cain.” As if that’ll entice me to spill my guts.

It doesn’t.

But I am surprised.

“You used to talk to me.”

I glance at her. “And you know why I stopped.” Why we all stopped, I want to add, but I also don’t want to be that much of a jerk. Truth is, Nat is judgy. It’s why she didn’t know about Lily’s boyfriend. It’s why we all worry she’ll run and tell Elite Cain when we aren’t following rules. Her determination to become a Commander overrides her wish to have friends.

“I said I was sorry,” she mutters.

“Doesn’t work if you don’t mean it.”

Her frustration is palpable, twisting in the air toward me like a darkling.

“Blake forgave me,” she says through her teeth.

“Because she was about to be sent into exile.”

“Because she knew I didn’t want to turn her in,” Natalie argues. “She was involved with the occult, Shy!”

It was a scandal when it was discovered. Blake was a year older than us and had just entered college when she got tangled up with death-speakers which is the kind of stuff that happens in New York, not in our small, close-knit town. She started practicing the occult—small stuff at first, but it quickly got out of control. One night, she came knocking on my door, one of her death-speaker friends was dying in her arms. Some spell gone wrong. She asked Mom to help him and she saved the kid’s life but she was still suspended because ‘Valryn are not permitted to administer medical attention to humans.’ The only reason Mom wasn’t exiled is because she was technically doing half her job—saving a human soul.

Mom doesn’t blame Nat for what happened. She says the Order would have found out anyway and she’s probably right. And maybe I’m not as mad at Natalie as I am at the Order for turning their back on Blake—someone who needed family and friendship more than the cold shoulder.

“I guess I just never thought Blake was capable of deceit,” Nat says.

Her attitude sets me off.

“There. Right there.” My voice stings the air between us. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not that she was capable of deceit. She was helping a friend.”

“The Order doesn’t see it that way, Shy, and whether you like it or not, we’re sworn to uphold their laws. Blake knew that.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

I turn down a makeshift dirt road and park in a clearing—my usual spot. Natalie and I shift and fly to the Compound. We make our way down white marble halls veined with black, toward Elite Cain’s office, our feet thudding against the cold stone like a drumbeat ticking off the minutes until our deaths.

Cain’s office is cold and hard. The floors are black marble, and where the walls aren’t slate-like in color, they are covered in heavy, black drapes. A glossy black desk sits just before a single, exposed window so crowded with trees, no light seeps through—and there Elite Cain stands, one hand behind his back, the other resting lightly on his desk. My father stands to the side.

Natalie and I come to a stop a few feet before them and salute, though Elite Cane doesn’t lift his eyes to us.

“It appears I’ve caught you two in a web.” Those words make my heart fall right into my stomach. “Shadow Knight Rivera, you failed to inform us that Shadow Knight Savior did not report for patrol last night.”

Well, at least Natalie wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t report my absence.

“Where were you?” My father asks.

Simple question with a not so simple answer. I can either admit I was checking up on Anora, something that doesn’t look good, especially following Lily’s transgressions, death-speaker or not, or admit I was attacked by Hellhounds and seek medical attention. How much more can I get tangled?

“I was attacked by a Hellhound,” I say. For effect—and as evidence—I pull up the sleeve of my suit to show off my wounds.

Silence follows my admission and I feel like I’m standing at the center of a frozen pond, the ice buckling beneath my feet.

“And you didn’t think it was important to report the attack? Or seek medical attention?”

That question doesn’t really require an answer, so I report what I discovered while fighting the hounds.