“So you’ve confirmed it then?” a woman’s voice asks. “She is a reaper, then?”
“There is no doubt about it,” Professor Dalmatius says, his smooth baritone calm but confident. “She wielded my scythe effortlessly against those demons, and cut them down like they were nothing.”
“This is impossible,” another voice, a gruff-sounding male, protests. “Are you certain she is a novice, and not a deserter in hiding? You say she cut down those demons like they were nothing…”
I frown. A deserter? What does that mean? Like in the army?
“If she were in hiding, she wouldn’t have shown herself to Mr. Bellator,” Professor Dalmatius points out, still sounding as calm as ever. “You read the boy’s report—she was defending the soul he’d been trying to reap before the demon attacked. Why would a deserter risk her neck for a single soul?”
“There is also the fact that you don’t have any deserters matching her description,” the woman said. “Or am I mistaken, General?”
There is a long silence. “I won’t know until I see her myself.”
“Well you’re in luck,” the woman’s voice says, sounding suddenly amused. “She’s right outside the door.”
I freeze, and am considering the idea of making a run for it when Professor Dalmatius yanks open the door. His dark eyebrows arch at the sight of me. “I should have known you wouldn’t be content to stay put,” he says, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “You’re so inquisitive, just like—”
He breaks off, shaking his head, and waves me inside. “Eavesdropping, are we?” the gruff voice barks before I can ask Professor Dalmatius to elaborate. My attention immediately goes to the voice—it belongs to a boulder of a man, dressed in a set of black robes decorated with various pins and metals and a cloak just like the ones I’d seen the other reapers wearing. His hood is pushed back to reveal a rectangular-shaped head with close-cropped black hair and a scar slashing over one side of his rough-hewn features. “First night at the academy and she’s already insubordinate.”
“Now, now, Taius,” the woman next to him admonishes, seated behind her desk. She has short blonde hair, sharp, almost fey-like features, and is dressed in dark red robes, a stark contrast to the black everyone else wears. “The girl is new, and knows nothing of our ways. Some allowances have to be made.”
She turns to me now, her wide mouth stretching into a genuine smile. “Welcome to Reaper Academy, Addison Blake. I’m Alina Messor, headmistress here. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She holds out a hand, and I grasp it firmly, hoping this woman won’t be able to tell how nervous I am. Power emanates from her, subtle but unmistakable, and the air of effortless authority around her tells me she’s not someone I want to mess with. Her blue eyes study me keenly, and I have a feeling this woman doesn’t miss a trick.
“It’s nice to meet you too, er, Headmistress.” My gaze flicks from her to the burly man standing next to her. He is studying me intently, and my skin prickles uncomfortably beneath the weight of his heavy regard. “And you…”
“This is General Taius.” The headmistress introduces him with a smile. “The two of us have been eager to meet you ever since Mr. Bellator told us about you.”
The general clears his throat. “It’s true, she doesn’t match the description of any of the deserters,” he says. “But there is something familiar about her, something I can’t put my finger on.” He narrows his gaze on me. “Who are your parents, girl?”
“Scott and Meredith Blake,” I say, confusion churning my brain into mush. “But I’m not sure what that has to do with anything?”
Professor Dalmatius places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You are an enigma, Miss Blake,” he says, smiling down at me as I look up at him, and my heart thumps a little. I resist the urge to lean into his touch, but it’s hard—he makes me feel so safe. “Born to human parents, raised in the human world, and yet it’s clear you have reaper powers. It’s only natural that General Taius would question your parentage.”
“And with good reason!” the general harrumphs. “It’s absolutely unheard of for a reaper to be born to human parents. There must be some kind of explanation!”
“And we will find it,” Headmistress Messor says calmly. “I have no doubt a full inquiry will be launched once we meet with the council. But for now, we need to get Miss Blake here settled.”
“Settled?” I blurt the word out as a wave of relief crashes through me. “Does this mean I get to stay?”
The headmistress smiles. “Of course you do. It is obvious that you are a reaper, and based on the reports from both Mr. Bellator and Professor Dalmatius, it is obvious you will be a formidable one once you are properly trained. And speaking of Mr. Bellator—”
The doors open and my jaw drops as the reaper I’d met on that fateful night walks in. Now that he’s no longer waterlogged and half-beaten to death, I’m struck by how good-looking he is. The flames from the fireplace highlight his chestnut hair and his handsome features—straight nose, sharp cheekbones, and full mouth—and butterflies flutter in my stomach as he draws closer, bringing with him the scent of rosewood and leather.
His blue eyes meet mine, and I’m startled by the brief but intense flash of anger in them. What had I done to deserve that look? Hadn’t I saved his sorry ass just a few days ago?
“Headmistress, General, Professor.” He inclines his head to the three authority figures in the room, then clasps his hands behind his back, shoulders tense. I get the distinct sensation that he is waiting for the axe to fall, and my stomach tightens with dread. What is going on?
“Mr. Bellator.” The headmistress’s expression goes flinty for just a moment before she turns to me. “Miss Blake, I believe you are acquainted with Maxon Bellator already. Do you know what he was doing the night you saved his life?”
“Er.” My gaze moves between the two of them, but Mr. Bellator—Maxon—refuses to look at me. “He was there to fight the demon?”
“Not quite.” The headmistress gives Maxon a reproving look. “Mr. Bellator took an unauthorized trip into the human world in a misguided attempt to increase the number of Soul Points his house has. He thought that if he could successfully reap at least one soul on his own that he would be forgiven for the infraction, and allow his house to take the lead in the academy’s annual competition for the Soul Cup. Isn’t that right, Mr. Bellator?”
“Yes, Headmistress,” Maxon says tightly. “But I still think I should have—"
“Been awarded for bringing back that soul?” The headmistress’s eyes flash, and Maxon flinches. “You might have been, if you hadn’t returned half-dead. And from what you told me, if Miss Blake hadn’t intervened, you wouldn’t have come back at all!”
Maxon’s jaw works, and I can tell he is trying very hard to hold his tongue. “Hang on,” I interrupt, suddenly remembering. “You brought Cassandra here, didn’t you? Where is she now?”
Professor Dalmatius chuckles. “Up in the dormitories, waiting for you. I daresay she’s asleep now, or she would have come down to meet you already.”