Page 4 of Reaper's Quest

“Do I need to spell everything out for you? Leave. Me. Alone.”

Chace shouldn’t sit beside me, and he definitely shouldn’t touch me. He knew that as well as I did. We were rivals from enemy families…a simple don’t-cross-the-line situation.

“Ouch.” He slapped his hand to his chest. “You go straight for the jugular, don’t you? I already feel the loss of blood slowing my heart.”

My jaw tightened. “Stop it.”

“As you command.” He dipped his head. “Just pretend like I’m not even here.”

As if I ever could.

After our first introduction seven years ago, he’d become a glaring beacon at the edge of my personal hemisphere. One impossible to ignore.

“Or you could simplynotbe here,” I countered.

Chace pursed his lips and remained silent. He made no motion to switch seats.

Wonderful.

I trained my attention on the front of the room. Absentmindedly rubbed my bruised and aching palm. Too many things already crowded my brain. I didn’t need to deal with him on top of everything else.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with a low growl and tilted my head toward the seat he currently occupied. “Your father wouldn’t approve.”

He shrugged then leaned into our shared armrest. “In case you haven’t noticed, mydadisn’t here. And after the skills you displayed yesterday, I thought it was high time we talked without any accusations ruling the conversation.”

The edges of his mouth lifted. An expression on him I didn’t trust. And yet his emphasis on the word “dad”…hinted at something hostile between them.

“Yeah, I’m going to disagree on that one,” I said.

We had nothing to talk about. He had never shown an interest in me before, outside of rivalry games, and he didn’tneed to find a nontoxic interest in me after an overly glorified reap.

Returning my attention to Superior Grim, I tried to pretend Chace sat anywhere but in the seat beside me. Absolutelynosituation existed where I should find his antics or—I flicked a quick glance his way—hisanythingentertaining or interesting.

Superior Grim scribbled on the board, listing the names of several reapers who’d recently returned from tasks, along with the challenges and successes they had faced. Reviewing their experiences served as a learning opportunity for the rest of the group.

Four names down the list, he scribbled my name:

Raven Gunn.

Target—a hostile departee with magical means.

Challenge—the magical means.

Success—zero extra collateral, apparent easy collection.

I gritted my teeth. With that assortment of chosen words, the inevitable would come next.

“Miss Gunn.” Superior Grim turned toward the room and raised his head to my position. “Could you enlighten us on how you coerced your target to comply with his reaping?”

The worn leather of the armrests crackled beneath my tightened grip.Palpitations whomped in my chest, my eyes popping wide and my blood thrumming as if my heart resided within my too-tight grasp.

The room fell into silence, and I could sense everyone’s attention on me. Surrounding expressions betrayed everything from boredom to humor, but the look on Chace’s face… That one held my attention.

With his eyes partially hooded and the edge of his mouthtipped up, he appeared to be awaiting some brilliant response, only I didn’t have one. I only had tales of rules broken and soul-shattering tactics used.

Regardless, I opened my mouth because I had to say something.

But what?