Page 7 of Reaper's Quest

His refusal to drop the subject bordered on irritating, and I wanted to punch him for continuing the line of questioning. If word of this exchange or my use of the object got back to my father, my family would bury me ten feet underground before?—

“Miss Gunn.” Superior Grim’s voice boomed over the room. “Mr. Badden. Do you have anything you’d like to share with the group?”

My body jerked forward. My words trapped in my throat; I shook my head.

“Nope,” Chace said with a sense of ease and relaxed into the curve of his seat. “Don’t think so.”

Anticipation filled the room, everyone’s attention bouncing back and forth between me, Chace, and Superior Grim.

Screech.Scraaaaape.

The side door to the stage opened wide, and two reapers wearing black suits stepped into the room. They looked like old-school door-to-door human salesmen, complete with a name tag pressed to each of their chests.

The distance between us left the names scribbled on the tags illegible. But I didn’t need to read them. I knew exactly who they were—a unique division of reapers known as The Johnsons, simply because every name tag saidHello my name is Mr. Johnson.

I sometimes wondered if the stickered name started as a joke, only to have it become their designation. I once asked my parents, but neither of them knew the answer.

As The Johnsons stepped onto the stage, a nervous energy rippled over the auditorium, and every noise and spoken word dropped to a whisper.

The two reapers handed Superior Grim a semi-thick folder and said something too low for anyone beyond the podium to hear.

A strong expression of contemplation clung to Superior Grim. He glanced over a note attached to the file, then over the attending reapers in the room, his focus pausing on me and Chace for a brief moment, before returning his attention to the new arrivals.

He crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash, then gave The Johnsons a curt nod. Without further exchange, they left the room.

Superior Grim flipped open the folder and thumbed through the pages.

Chace slumped in his seat. “The Johnsons have no business being here. Though, their boss is a serious hardhead with little respect for the chain of command.”

Chace would know, given said boss was his uncle. If one asked my father’s opinion, the boss, Chace’s uncle, was more than a hardhead. Mortifier was conniving and manipulative.

“Like you?” I countered, attempting to quell the tension in my gut with humor.

“Funny.” Chace faked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

I flinched back from his forced expression as a realization slapped me upside the head. He might actually know how The Johnsons got their name. Of course, I had no intention of asking him. Now or later.

His expression dropped with a groan that seemed to runthe course of his entire body. “They primarily deal in the extraordinary. Wonder what they were doing here.”

My gut double and triple knotted. Not just because The Johnsons had visited our reaper division, but because, for the first time ever in my awareness of the Gunn-Badden family relationship, Chace appeared to bejustChace, and I wasjustRaven.

No snarky comments waiting to drop. No traps about to be sprung. Merely two seemingly unsettled, low-level reapers.

Although short-lived, less than a heartbeat, the moment became part of our shared history.

Superior Grim closed the folder with a heavy flop and tapped his splayed fingers upon the file. His gaze rose to the surrounding class.“Case file for the Royal Citadel of Veritas has been allocated to us.”

I wanted to ask someone, anyone, what and where Veritas was, but only Chace sat near enough, so I held my question silent. Although… Interested in whether he showed any signs of recognition at the citadel’s mention, I casually turned my head and side-eyed him.

He closed his eyes, fanning dark lashes across his cheeks, and shook his head. I couldn’t tell if his reaction came from the mention of Veritas or to my sneaked peek.

Superior Grim zeroed in on me and Chace once more. “Miss Gunn, Mr. Badden. Since the two of you find yourselves above the need to listen in class, you’ve earned yourselves this special assignment. It’s bound to take more than a day. Possibly more than a week. Be sure to pack a bag.”

“What the hell?” Chace muttered under his breath.

My mouth dropped open. On the scales of disconcerting,any assignment that could take up to a week eclipsed the multiple twofers I had worried about.

Knowing better than to make a fuss regarding any task given, I clamped my mouth shut.