Page 1 of Reaper's Quest
1
At the corner of Demise Drive and Mortality Lane, set at the center of an otherworld metropolis painted in the milky mists of an afterlife glow, stood the Hall of Reaping Requirements and Acquisitions—a sleek tower of glimmering darkness to which I reported every day when not on task.
Today was one such day.
I climbed the fifty-two stairs from the street to the main lobby and made my way through the building toward the back auditorium for the morning lecture. Every booted step taken through the lobby and proceeding domed rotunda bounced off the white marble tiles and echoed between the slick sheets of agate lining the walls.
Above, pressed against the impossibly high ceiling of thepavilion, a cloud of flapping black feathers spun—circling crows awaiting their next messenger assignment.
Sometimes—okay, many times—the sensation of the murder of crows’ inky eyes set upon me and prickled across my skin, like they watched me more than any other who crossed beneath their flurry of activity. Did my fellow reapers feel the same?
Halfway across the rotunda, near the God of Death’s center statue, Chace Badden fell into step at my side, a confident swagger in his walk.
“Reaper Gunn,” he said, his delivery a smooth tease I ignored.
Even as my shoulders stiffened at the sight of him?black shirt, two unfastened buttons exposing a hint of skin, and pants snug against his body.
I dipped my gaze below his belt, and a tight breath dragged through my lungs.
Eyes up, Raven. Eyes up.
He snagged my elbow?his touch gentle, casual, as if zero tension existed between us. “Spot something of interest?”
I fought the desire to roll my eyes. Of course he’d shown up today with a megabat-sized chip on his shoulder. An ego, no doubt, inflated by his parents’ never-ending bolstering. And…
A handful of females rushing toward the back hall leading to the auditorium tipped their heads together and, with giggles between them, ogled Chace as they passed.
And that. The way he drew admiring gazes from both females and males alike.
With a gentle tug, he drew me to a stop in the center of the large space. Right beneath the watchful gaze of Thanatos’s towering statue.
“What do you want?” I bit out.
He dipped his head as if about to whisper his response in my ear, his unruly, dark hair draping down his cheek and hiding the inked art currently visible across his jawline and neck.
Did I spy the tail of a snake?
From time to time, I’d noticed edges of the magical design shifting across his skin and coming into view. Those moments were rare; he usually kept the ink well covered, but occasionally I saw a hint of scales or something wrapped in swarthy, stretched leather. I’d never witnessed the tattoo move across the fringes of his face before, though.
The inked tail rattled.
With a jolt, I sucked back a sharp wheeze.
“Scared or surprised?” His words…and breath (crisp winter mint)…washed over me.
I slid my gaze from the reptile tattoo to his strong brow and defining jawline. His dark lashes swept down over his captivating, stormy eyes, like rolling rain clouds stirred with silver flecks.
Reaping gods, why did he have to be so…
Sin and desire breathtakingly enveloped in my rival.
Up until that moment, I had managed to avoid making eye contact, because…ugh. I blinked. When had he stepped insufferably close?
“Boundaries.” I yanked free of his light hold and resumed my forward stride, a fraction faster than before.
Keeping pace at my side, he made no attempt to recapturemy arm, even as his lips lifted in a smirk and his gaze glided over me. “Apologies.”
Despite my apprehension and irritation, I spared him another quick glance and pretended not to notice, or care about, his wavy dark hair, chiseled jaw, or heart-stopping eyes. On occasion, I thought I spied the colors of the sunrise attempting to break through the moody drama of his irises.
