Page 2 of Reaper's Quest

I suppressed a sigh. Beauty was often a trap in nature, and no matter how easy I found him to gaze upon, he would always…always…rank high on my avoidance list.

I refocused on the path ahead. “Why are you bothering me?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on your mission success,” he said, regarding my previous task.

The task had consisted of an unwilling-to-depart mark who’d attempted to use magic to stay his death date. His efforts had hindered the effectiveness of my reaper tools and abilities, given I was a worker bee and not a deity.

Even my seasoned parents would have likely found the reap daunting.

Only, aware of what my challenging task presented, I had come prepared with a secret weapon (tool, really) that gave me an edge. One I’d borrowed, unbeknownst to anyone.

A group dashed past us, heading toward the lecture hall. In their haste, they smacked my left side.

I stopped hard with a hiss and rubbed my upper arm and shoulder. Like them, I too should hustle, and yet I indulged Chace in whatever nonsense he was up to.

Why?

Chace’s attention slid to where I massaged my new ache, and he shot the passing group a cold glare. Stared at theirbacksides until they’d moved several yards away. With a heave of his chest, he returned his regard to me and smiled. Something about his expression felt like a trap.

My chest tightened, robbing the easy flow of oxygen from my lungs. “You have yet to tell me why you’rereallybothering me.”

“Is that so?” His delivery, as smooth as a scythe slice through the air, raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

Or maybe it was the twist of his lip, or the way his gaze felt too much like a caress.

“My father has suggested you cheated.” He surveyed our surroundings. No one stood nearby, yet he lowered his voice even more. “You didn’t cheat, did you?”

A tinge of scrutiny rang in the question, but that familiar search for confirmation resonated stronger. As if he wanted some sort of proof to justify his father’s suspicions.

“I don’t need to cheat.” And yet had I?

Ubel Badden, Chace’s father, was the kind of reaper to sow conflict with his words, be they honest or outright lies. Still, the question remained worth considering.

He grinned. “No doubt.”

Without conscious thought, I glanced at my palm and rubbed the new, ugly bruise decorating my skin.The cheat had extracted an unexpected toll, hence the welt. Something I didn’t care for Chace to ever know, lest he use that information against me. Or his father use it against my family.

Could using the tools at my disposalreallybe considered cheating?

I tended to think not, but then my father kept the tool locked in his cabinet…and it definitelywasn’tstandardissue…even if it was created for the purpose of reaping.Reaping with the ease one might imagine a deity possessed.

Still, at day’s end, the job was the reap, by whatever means were necessary. So…

“Nevertheless,” he said, “just because someone doesn’t need to cheat doesn’t mean they didn’t do the deed.”

My uncommitted frown became the only response I gave to combat his statement, and yet he didn’t take the opportunity to walk away.

Isowished he would.

Instead, he offered me a stick of gum.

“Winterfresh,” he said, waving the gum like some sort of white flag declaring a truce between us.

My mouth popped open. “Are you suggesting my breath stinks?”

“Not in the slightest.” He clucked his tongue. “I was simply trying to be friendly.”

“So not your style.” I waved his offer away.“No thanks.”