5. Raven
Father and I sat in the transport, enfolded in the chill of dark leather and tinted windows. I slouched into my seat, my stomach an endless jumble of knots, and my father looking thirteen degrees past miserable.
The train conductor had refused to make the trip.
I had received the message seconds after the notice had scrolled across my father’s timekeeper.
That’s not concerning at all.
The bloke had pulled out at the last minute, forcing my reaper team to travel by way of automated rail which, due to later scheduling commitments, required an earlier departure.
When Father and I left the penthouse and made our way to the transport, I had mentioned that The Johnsons delivered the task file to Superior Grim, and he’d immediately passed the task on to Chace and me.
Both facts brought a deep frown to my father’s face. He mumbled something about Mortifier, and how the old reaper likely worked at some long-game power play.
Maybe. Chace had suggested his uncle could be seriously hardcore. One of several adjectives my father would likely use, as well. But if Mortifier was executing some long-game power play, would he involve his own nephew in what could become a concerning situation?
Now armed with both information and warnings, I couldn’t stop the roiling in my stomach. Something far larger than a difficult reap situation enveloped this task.
Obsessed with anchoring my emotions, I rubbed my bruised palm nonstop.
Heavy silence and the weight of my impending task hung thick in the air between us for the entirety of the ride to the train station.
I couldn’t escape the thought that Chace and I might have been chosen for some ugly political purpose.
Were we pawns or leverage to be used as blackmail against our families? Was sending us to Veritas an attempt to end the family lines?
Father’s fingers began to drum a steady rhythm on his thigh, and, to the sound, my head pounded a dull, steady beat.
No sooner had the transport pulled to a stop at the station than Mother rushed to our vehicle and leaned in through the open window. “I was concerned you wouldn’t make it.”
Father and I were the last to arrive, but at least I was staying true to my arrive-at-the-last-minute reputation. Plus, I rather doubted the team…and train…would leave without me. Not if some bigger (hidden) plan was at work.
Chace stood huddled with his family, saying their goodbyes—his mother clearly fussing over him—while Mr. Aldine waited, train side, for me and Chace to board. With no departures or arrivals scheduled anytime soon…beyond our own, the rest of the train platform held no activity, no warm bodies.
Before I could fully extract myself from the transport, my mother threw her arms around me and squeezed me bone-crushingly tight. “I believe in you, and if anyone can solve the reaping issue at the royal citadel, you’ll be the one.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I pulled back.
Her black hair shimmered in the morning light, accentuating the red running throughout.
Most reapers had jet-black hair, but some favored touches of gray, and a few hinted deep blue-violet in the full light of day—like Chace’s. However, no others that I knew of shimmered with scarlet like mine, my mother’s, or my grandmother’s.
Or so I’d been told. I’d never actually met my grandmother.
I didn’t know how far back the color introduction went but inheriting that unique trait had always made me feel special.
I roamed my gaze over my mother’s face. Distress featured in the crinkles at the edges of her eyes, the taut pull of her lips, and the pressed wrinkles on her forehead. The line cutting between Father’s eyebrows suggested he felt equally troubled.
I lifted my chin. “How many have attempted this job before me?”
My parents, reapers Scorpeo and Freyja, exchanged a look that said it all. Too many.
Father wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry about what has already been attempted or done. Concentrate your thoughts and efforts on what you can do this time around.”
“All that you need is inside you.” Mother tapped me just below the collarbone. “Bring your natural talents to the task. That’s sure to be a reap changer.”
Because I was the one the entire situation had been waiting for? Highly unlikely.
I did, however, appreciate their efforts to keep everything positive.
A positive mind can achieve almost anything.
Yeah, I didn’t 100 percent buy into that drivel, but better to believe than to dwell on the opposite frame of mind. Especially when, several feet away, the train conductor who had cancelled on us argued with another, his words too loud not to be heard.
“Danger guards the path,” he said, causing my chest to tighten, even as my parents ignored the warning. “I already told you I won’t do it. I’d sooner quit.”
The train whistled, and Mr. Aldine waved us forward. “Time to go. There’s a schedule that must be kept.”
My parents walked me across the brick platform, and as we passed Chace’s family, Mr. Badden tossed a scrutinizing glare in my direction then whispered something in Chace’s ear.
Father tugged me snuggly to his side. “Remember what I told you. Don’t trust the Badden boy.”
If he called Chace a boy, he might as well call me a girl, and we were neither. I wanted my parents to recognize that truth. Reapers tended to be overprotective and far too slow to empower. Traits that might have everything to do with our few numbers, relatively speaking.
Mother pressed against my other side, sandwiching me between them. “Be careful, my love. I can’t say much about Chace, but his family is often up to no good.”
So I had heard throughout my entire life. The Badden family was bad and untrustworthy—a group of liars and backstabbers. I got it. Had lived it. And now I would get to spend countless hours working with one. Hurrah.
At least he was easy on the eyes.
Ugh! What was I thinking? I needed to cut those kinds of thoughts out of my head immediately.
If only I could start the day over, stay in bed, and skip the morning reaper assignment. Had I hidden my presence at the back of the room, would Superior Grim still have chosen me? I suspected he would. And if I hadn’t shown up at all, would they have called me at home with the task? Possibly.
Chace pulled away from his family, his expression caught between a grimace and a frown. He didn’t look at me, and he didn’t glance back at his family as he shook his head and boarded the train.
Before I could follow him into the confines of the awaiting car, Father yanked me to a stop on the first step. I swallowed a sigh at his extreme hands-on management of me.
“I slipped the crow caller in your bag,” he whispered, inciting a wiggle of surprise through my veins. “I also added something else, just in case. Keep the added items to yourself. You can’t—”
I raised my finger into the air between us. “I know, Dad. I can’t trust Chace. I got it.”
Enough already.
“Of course you do.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead.
I wanted to ask him what else he’d hidden in my bag, but I knew better than to do so in this place. Not with Badden family members standing nearby.
“I’ll be fine.” The words didn’t reflect how I felt, but I hoped they appeased my father, easing his concern.
Possibly even ignite the spark that would light the flame, intent on becoming the fire of confidence in my belly.
Possibly. Maybe. Hopefully?
I didn’t actually know how I felt, just as I didn’t know what to expect of the task ahead. And if one thing honestly irked me, it was not knowing.
Hoisting my bag over my shoulder, I boarded the train and found a seat several rows past Chace. At least the accommodations were relatively new and clean and the seats comfortably padded. The engine was likely supercharged, too, driving the locomotive at ultra-high speeds.
The train whistled again and lurched forward.
Through the open window at my side, I waved a final goodbye to my parents as they began to slide out of sight.
They got smaller and smaller, and the train picked up speed, moving out of the station.
In no time, the locomotive rolled through the outskirts of the city and beyond, into the open countryside.
I glanced over my shoulder to Chace. He focused on the scene flashing past the window, looking nothing like a guy scheming to out-reap me.
My chest tightened.
Gods and reapers, I hoped this assignment wasn’t somehow my fault, for conveniently succeeding in my magical departee task.
“Ms. Gunn. Mr. Badden.” Mr. Aldine centered himself between us and, rubbing the top of his bald head, dropped into a seat across the aisle. “As you may have noticed, we’re the only ones on this train.”
I actually hadn’t paid attention to the passenger situation of the other cars, but the lack of travelers made sense…given the empty train station, the conductor incident, and our intended destination. Still, I couldn’t help but scan the interior of the train for signs of life. I found none.
“Why?” Chace asked, bringing a smirk to my lips. “Are there not any other stops between here and where we’re going? Or possibly some other crazy souls that want to visit our exotic destination?”
At least I wasn’t the only one left in the dark about far too many things. My current wealth of knowledge regarding the citadel lingered around less-than-helpful, despite what my father had shared.
Chace’s father had probably armed him with a few pearls of knowledge as well. I needed to pull the information out of him, without compromising myself or my family.
I studied him, but when he caught me looking, I hastily redirected my attention.
Mr. Aldine leaned into his knees, folding his hands together.
“The outer regions of the royal citadel have become less than hospitable, so no one ventures into those zones anymore. Much of the lowlands rests beneath a foot or more of water, and the higher elevations are plagued with treacherous windstorms.”