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.

Chapter Seven

Anora and the Boy Who Sees the Dead

Everything about this morning is a disaster.