When Stars Come Out (When Stars Come Out 1)

“Forgive me, Eurydice. I did not introduce myself,” he places his hand to his chest. “I am Luminary Roth DuPont, the head of the Order.”

I just stare at him. That name means nothing.

“I’m disappointed,” he says. “Savior hasn’t told you about me?”

“Guess he didn’t think you were worth mentioning.”

Roth offers a charming smile and I hate it. “Shy didn’t think you were worth mentioning, either. But I think you and I understand things of value. Things like this.” He holds up my necklace and I go rigid.

My grandfather's coin spins, glinting under the lights. In this sterile room, it's magic. I reach for it, but Roth pulls back, the coin thuds against his chest. A surge of anger rushes through me, that he possesses something so important to me. That he would dare hold it that close to his heart.

“If truth be told, you have nothing to fear from the Order. They think you should be trained and I agree. You are more useful once you reach your potential. It is likely you'll leave here tonight having lost nothing of real value—with the exception of this.”

I watch my coin, not Roth.

“You can’t keep that. I won’t let you,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You won’t let me?” he laughs, raising his brows and then glances at my hand. “What are you going to do? Steal my soul?”

Instinctively, I curl my fingers into fists, but the metal claw digs into my skin, making me flinch.

“You can hardly blame me, Eurydice. I can’t chance you running off again. And while the Order’s under the impression they can appoint a Shadow Knight to patrol, we know you’re not above killing one of us.” Roth stands and starts toward the door with my poppa’s coin. I want to attack him, and I might have had I not been in Valryn custody. Chances are, assaulting the person in charge won’t lead to my freedom, and then I will be stuck here and still not have my coin back.

Roth pauses at the door. “Just remember, Eurydice, the Order may grant you freedom, but you are under my control.”

As soon as he’s gone, I search my cell for a weapon. The bed is bolted to the ground, and solid metal. There is nothing on the walls, and even the small bathroom is empty, the shower doesn’t even have a curtain, and there are no towels. I’m still looking when the door to my cell opens and a Shadow Knight steps through.

It’s Bastian. Shy’s father.

“I’ve come to collect you for the Order,” he says and I stiffen.

“I want my mom,” I say.

“You will see her soon enough,” he replies. “We do not plan to keep you here.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You don’t have to trust us now,” Bastian says. “You can trust us later, when you’re home safe.”

I know I’m not getting out of here without going before the Order, so I relent and leave with Bastian. He walks a step or two behind me, now and then he’ll call out an order—left, turn right here, and then stop when we arrive at a stainless-steel elevator. We ride to the fourteenth floor.

“Where am I?”

“You are at the Compound.” Bastian doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “The fortress of the Valryn.”

If I were in another situation, I might laugh at his use of the word fortress, but in the last few days, I’ve discovered nearly everyone I’ve met is a shape-shifter, the other half are death-speakers, and I’m some sort of modern ferryman. I am in no place to critique vocabulary.

I’m led to a room with a large, oblong table, already crowded with a mix of flesh-and-blood Valryn and holograms. Among them, Roth who makes eye contact with me; his fingers play with a chain at his neck. My poppa’s coin—a reminder of the power he has over me.

Bastian directs me to a seat at the head of the table, my back is to a large, dark window. If that isn’t enough to make me uncomfortable, everyone is looking at me, assessing, wondering if I’m capable of the accusations leveled against me. I study them, too. Some are surprised and others hostile. No one appears friendly, not even the most familiar face among them. When my eyes land on him, I can’t stop myself from blurting, “Mr. Val? You’re Valryn?”

He is reactionless, except for a single raised brow, as if he wants to be amused but his face forgot how.

“Yes, Miss Silby,” he says. “I’m equally surprised you’re the Eurydice.”

My face heats, and for some reason I find myself wanting to prove Mr. Val wrong—but not just him, all of these people.

Roth clears his throat and stands.