Page 11 of Reaper's Quest

My chest squeezed my internal workings to a stop.

Those who manage to get inside the citadel never return.

Nothing about that statement felt remotely acceptable.

“I’m being sent to my death, aren’t I? Or something worse than death. What’s worse than death?” I spun and walked away from my father, pacing along the room-wide window, my limbs heavy and boneless at my sides. “A living death. That’s what’s worse. Neither dead nor alive.”

“Take a breath and settle down.” Father stepped in front of me and grabbed my shoulders. “Everything we know about the situation is conjecture.”

“Yeah, but…” I clenched my fists. “Isn’t that alone enough to assume the worst?”

He shook his head. “I admit, it doesn’t look good from where we’re standing. It may not look any better when you’re staring up at the citadel’s front gate. But if you are to succeed at the assigned task, you must maintain a level head and grasp the grand picture that is in place. Emotion, such as fear, will only cloud your thoughts and undermine your ability to recognize all the interlocking pieces.”

“So…” I drew the word out. “You’re telling me to be cold and calculating.”

“That’s not what I said.” He frowned and dropped his arms from my shoulders. “But you can’t take any chances with this reap or Chace Badden. I guarantee you, his father is ordering him to cut you zero slack and show no mercy. Badden will want to out-reap you at every turn, on every mark. His family is not in the business to help the departing souls, but to be the absolute best at what we do.”

Not unlike my own family.

My father had pressed his reaping motto upon me many times.

Be the first to reap and the last to reap. The best at every single joint-venture reap. Protect and showcase your superior skills, and let no other tarnish your image.You are a reaper through and through, by birth, by blood, and by ability. Be the reaper to which others aspire.

Simply put, be the absolute best reaper. Period.

In a somewhat matched fashion, my mother sang her praises in a different manner.You, my dear, are death’s guiding hand. A born natural when it comes to transitioning souls. There are few more qualified than you.

My parents meant well, but…

Weren’t Chace’s parents doing the same thing? The rivalry was a never-ending cycle of ugly words, thoughts, and deeds. And at present, I didn’t have the brain capacity to deal with it—any of it.

“Dad.” My voice weaved with skepticism.

“Don’t trust him,” he said, his delivery firm. “Never trust a Badden. Especially that particular Badden.”

I had no doubt the family feud would carry into the Citadel of Veritas on Chace’s and my backs. And Chace might be an A-list jerk, but I had trouble thinking he would seriously endanger me or our task.

Mildly, yes. But seriously, no.

Our discord stood on ugly ground but never leveled up to truly hazardous. Plus, Chace had admitted to having an opposing opinion to that of his father’s. I might have ignored that comment in the lecture hall, but it twisted within me, a gnarly clump of thorns in my craw.

Anyway, we were both adults—our teen years behind us,and we could act as such. Get past comments such as my father’s. Hopefully.

Never trust a Badden. Especially that particular Badden.

Wait… What did he mean by “that particular Badden?”

I wasn’t sure I knew hownotto distrust Chace Badden. But on a scale of one to ten, he could rank worse, and I hoped to hold any distrust somewhere around the mid-line.

He was, after all, my assigned teammate for the task. How effective could our team be without trust between us?

“What’s wrong with Chace in particular?”

“He lives.”

My mouth popped open. What in reaping hell was that supposed to mean?

I fully intended to ask exactly that when he opened his display cabinet. “This reap is going to be dangerous enough as it is. With an untrustworthy Badden at your side, I can’t help but worry for your safe return, much less your life.”