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Her smile disappears. For half a second, neither of us move then she turns and runs.

The Reaper wakes.

I give her ten seconds. Not because she asked, because I know exactly how fast she is.

One.

Her boots pound against the dirt.

Two.

Her heartbeat fills my head.

Three.

She laughs.

Four.

Corn snaps against her clothes.

Five.

My blood heats.

Six.

She glances over her shoulder.

Seven.

I step into the field.

Eight.

Her heart jumps.

Nine.

I lower my head.

Ten.

I run.

Fuck, I forgot what this feels like.

And it isn’t the Hunt.

It’s her.

It’s the way everything else disappears until there’s nothing left but the sound of her moving through the corn and the pull dragging me after her.

For the first time in centuries, I’m not chasing because I’m the Reaper.

I’m chasing because she’s Sage.

Her heartbeat guides me through the corn.