Reaper Academy: Semester One by Walt Jasmine & Goodwin Emily

Author:Walt, Jasmine & Goodwin, Emily
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dynamo Press
Published: 2019-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

12

“This is where most of the older students come to hang out.” Maxon pulls open the door to the Crooked Shadow Inn and steps aside, letting me in first. The tavern is dimly lit by glowing energy balls trapped inside a variety of glass bottles on the tables.

A large fire crackles in a stone fireplace on the far wall, and chatters ring out among the reapers that fill the establishment. The bartender, an older, redheaded woman wearing a long black dress, looks up and smiles at Maxon.

“Hello, Maxon. It’s been a while. It’s good to see you back, even without…” She trails off and quickly shakes her head. “It’s good to see you, son.” Her eyes sparkle as she greets him, but the sparkle turns shrewd as she looks at me next, giving me an appraising look. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Addison Blake,” Max says. “She’s a new student.”

Her eyebrows wing up. “The human-born reaper? The one Professor Dalmatius found in the human realm?”

“Right.” Maxon’s jaw works, and I can tell he wants to correct her, to tell her that he is the one who’d discovered me. But he doesn’t want to risk her finding out that he is in trouble, so instead he keeps his mouth shut and leads me to a table in the back.

Music quietly plays from a silver box on the bar top, barely audible over the murmur of voices. There are weathered and worn menus on the table, and Maxon slides one in front of me.

I flip my menu over and look at the drinks, which all have strange names. Except for the wine.

“The Rusty Scythe,” he says, and I feel his eyes on me. “That’s what I get.”

“What is it?”

“Whiskey mixed with elderberries and a secret ingredient that I’m pretty sure is a lemon juice concoction.”

“I’ll try that. And the rabbit stew.”

“So, you usually come here on the weekends?” I ask, fiddling with the ties on my cloak and hoping Kaia and Gertrude will walk in and join us. The tension between Maxon and me seems different after our latest spat, and I’m more aware of him physically than ever before. I can still feel the echo of his touch on my wrist, and my lips tingle as I look at him, wondering how it would have felt if he’d actually kissed me.

“Uh, yeah. Well…I used to.” He casts his eyes down, and something crosses his face—something I hadn’t seen before. Sadness?

“Used to?”

“Dorian,” he forces out. “We…we used to always come here together.”

“Oh, your old roommate.” I swallow hard, throat suddenly thick. Maxon had mentioned him when he’d been yelling at me earlier—the death had hit him hard, and he must still be dealing with it. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, and and an awkward silence falls over us. I’m not very good at comforting people when they’re in distress…mostly because I’ve never had close friends to comfort, and not having anyone to rely on myself, I’ve been forced to toughen up and bear my burdens in silence.

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