Page 15 of Reaper's Quest

“Two months?” A crushing pressure squeezed my chest. “You expect this task to take two months?”

“It’s just a precaution.” She grabbed my hand, her touch cold against my skin, and fiddled with my electronicwristband. “And now your timer is set to remind you to take your pills each morning.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not feeling the emotion behind the word. “You do know I am no longer a child, right?”

Her eyes crinkled with anguish. For the now, for the memories of what once was, I didn’t know. She hadn’t been much of a mother to me since…

“I know, dear,” she continued. “You’re so grown up. I used to worry?—”

She sucked back a harsh breath.

She used to worry I would never see a year past five. I’d heard about my condition countless times through the years, and she still had difficulty talking about my poor health and subsequent recovery. I remembered little from that time.

Ubel placed his hand on my shoulder, the weight and clench feeling every bit like a bear trap. “We expect you, with your superior skill, to finish the task in half that time.”

A full month, then?

I glanced from them to the awaiting rail and Aldine lingering near the train entrance.

Never had I been more acutely aware of the endless secrets my family kept. Secrets I now suspected involved my intended destination. And secrets that might lead me straight into the underworld or save me from the reaping hell known as the Citadel of Veritas.

My sperm donor resumed talking again. More useless drivel about the Gunn family. All the while, Bacia shoved a journal and a bundle of additional pills into my hold, murmuring words about self-care.

I held my face calm, as if listening intently, but in truth, Iinternally hummed a tune to drown out all the surrounding, unwanted clamor. Mainly, myfather?a term I used loosely.

The male might consider himself a clever reaping genius, but I was (unfortunately) my father’s son with a bonus. In addition to Ubel’s many aspects, I had Bacia’s gifts as well. I would not be blinded by arrogance, and somehow—some reaping how—I would uncover the truths Ubel had kept buried for far too long.

Starting with whatever secrets involved the upcoming hellish task.

Several feet away, the train conductor bellowed and shoved his verbal sparing partner. My attention snapped to the scene as everyone on the train platform stilled and stared. Face flushed and words heated, the conductor threw something to the ground.

“I won’t do it,” he said, his words seething with irritation. “You can’t make me go anywhere near that place. I’ll quit before I do so.”

5

Father and I sat in the transport, enfolded in the chill of dark leather and tinted windows. I slouched into my seat, my stomach an endless jumble of knots, and my father looking thirteen degrees past miserable.

The train conductor had refused to make the trip.

I had received the message seconds after the notice had scrolled across my father’s timekeeper.

That’s not concerning at all.

The bloke had pulled out at the last minute, forcing my reaper team to travel by way of automated rail which, due to later scheduling commitments, required an earlier departure.

When Father and I left the penthouse and made our way to the transport, I had mentioned that The Johnsons deliveredthe task file to Superior Grim, and he’dimmediatelypassed the task on to Chace and me.

Both facts brought a deep frown to my father’s face. He mumbled something about Mortifier, and how the old reaper likely worked at some long-game power play.

Maybe. Chace had suggested his uncle could be seriously hardcore. One of several adjectives my father would likely use, as well. But if Mortifierwasexecuting some long-game power play, would he involve his own nephew in what could become a concerning situation?

Now armed with both information and warnings, I couldn’t stop the roiling in my stomach. Something far larger than a difficult reap situation enveloped this task.

Obsessed with anchoring my emotions, I rubbed my bruised palm nonstop.

Heavy silence and the weight of my impending task hung thick in the air between us for the entirety of the ride to the train station.

I couldn’t escape the thought that Chace and I might have been chosen for some ugly political purpose.