Page 3 of Reaper's Quest

“Your loss.” With a shrug, he popped one in his mouth and chewed.

The aroma of him, his breath, the gum…an aphrodisiac. My stomach dipped. A sensation I didn’t need to experience withhim.

Wrinkling my nose, I leaned away. Glanced around the rotunda.

Why did I allow Chace to continue monopolizing my time, hold me immobile?

“Some have started calling you Ruthless Raven,” he said, his gaze fixed on me.

I attempted to show no physical reaction and focused on the fragile tightrope he’d chosen to walk, conversing withme when the less-than-pleasant peace between our families was already so delicate. My father had eyes everywhere. No doubt I’d hear about this exchange later tonight over dinner.

Chace pressed onward. “Looks like you’ve earned yourself a pretty cool nickname.”

I pulled my lips into a tight line, unglued my feet from their static position, and once more resumed my trek toward the lecture hall.He continued to keep pace and remained close at my side.

Maybe he found the termruthlesscool, but I sure didn’t. The nickname sounded harsh and cold, two things I didn’t care to have associated with my persona. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me to find outhestarted the spread of my new,endearingtitle.

I’d never shown him any other side of myself beyond the professional mask I often wore. He had no way of knowing I wanted to be a gentle guide at an existence’s defining track change.

At the edge of the rotunda, as we skirted around the escalators from the underground levels—the gathering ground for lower death-linked supernaturals such as banshees, cyhyraeths, and bean-nighes?moans and howls from below joined the din within the pavilion.

The Hall of Reaping Requirements and Acquisitions catered to all death-related beings, outside of the death gods themselves. They—the gods—had become more of a myth in recent generations, having stilled their involvement in the transitioning of souls.

But the ability to step back from the workload was likely the reason the gods, or one death god in particular, Thanatos, had created the reapers in thefirst place.

Imagining the God of Death relaxing before a roaring fire, legs stretched out, and a glass of dark liqueur in hand always conjured a silent giggle within my chest.

What did the gods like to do with their free time, anyway?

I hadn’t a clue. But chillin’ twenty-four seven? Highly unlikely.

We wordlessly strode beyond the pavilion to one of the long hallways, and the ten-story ceiling conceded to that of an exaggerated single level. Wall sconces illuminated the pathway, and moving bodies of fellow reapers, young and old, filled the corridor.Their heavy, rushed footfalls beat upon the ground like an army of enthusiastic and uncoordinated drummers.

Steps inside the wood-paneled lecture hall, Chace paused to talk to someone—or a few someones.

Taking the opportunity to distance myself from him, the awkward situation, and the coming fatherly inquisition, I pressed forward, hurrying along the carpeted aisle of stadium seats. All the folding, leather-cushioned, wooden seats curved around a well-lit stage, upon which stood the instructor’s podium.

Spanning both sides of the room, from the stage to the entrance, ginormous sculptures of robed reapers pressed against the wall like sentinels, overseeing the learning attendees. As if the statues’ stony watch would keep us reapers in line in order to learn faster.

Two-thirds of the way down the steps, I claimed a seat four spots into a middle row with barely a minute to spare. I had a talent for showing up to scheduled events at the last free moment. A moment now spent.

Superior Grim entered the room through a door set in thewall at the side of the stage and cleared his throat, calling the session to order. As one of the oldest reapers, rumors claimed he was among the first of the Grims. The highest rank of reapers. The first created under Thanatos.

Chace slid into the chair beside me, sending a tiny jolt of surprise through my system.

I clenched my jaw and suppressed a sigh, the hope I had managed to escape his attention for the day dashed.

Before I realized what he was doing, he had captured thick strands of my hair between his fingers and thumb. My heart leaped into my throat as his grasp slowly glided along my long, black locks shimmering with strands of crimson.

“So soft.”

His barely there murmur left me unsure if I’d heard him correctly. But…

Thank the reaping fates I was already sitting down because an unexpected weakness overcame my limbs. And what wasthatabout? He’d thrown my game off in such a shocking manner.

“Do you mind?” Recoiling, I tossed him a quick sideways glance as he released my hair and dropped his hand into his lap.

Clearly, my exit at the top of the stairs hadn’t been an obvious enough hint for him. And the touching… Yeah…he still suffered from boundary issues.