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“I don’t know. I was thinking of a scythe on my leg? That should fit.”
“Keep it up, and you won’t have a free inch of skin left.”
I nodded, ignoring her last comment. I wanted to keep my tattoos in places that were rarely exposed. My arms, neck, and chest would remain untouched, for sure. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. It might not have been true, but it was soothing to think that it could be.
I waved at Gloria and stepped out into the scorching sun. Crassus, my fay bodyguard, was waiting for me on the sidewalk. He never talked to me, never even looked directly at me, so I’d learned to ignore him a long time ago. At first, I was careful what I said and did around him, but when I realized his only job was to make sure I didn’t see GC and Paz, I started treating him like an ornament. “Fays are expensive soldiers,” Corri had told me at some point. “Not even your father can pay Crassus to do more than one or two jobs at a time. I think his task is to keep you away from your boyfriends and tell on you if you meet them. If your father wants him to do more than that, like… I don’t know, spy on you all the time and report back everything you say in his presence, he’d have to pay him more.” So, there was no point in hiding my desire to get rid of Morningstar around Crassus. He didn’t care. That certainly made my life easier, because most days, that was the only thing on my mind, and the only subject of conversation between me and my pixie.
Gloria’s tattoo shop was on a quaint street in Amsterdam, in a neighborhood where only supernaturals lived. Paz’s mom had recommended her to me. When I’d last seen her son, I only had the underboob tattoo. I wondered what my boyfriends were going to say when they realized my one tattoo had turned into at least five more. Not that I cared. My body, my rules.
“Do you think I’m turning into a bitch, Corri?”
The pixie’s brown eyes grew so wide they almost popped out of her head. She smacked her forehead with her tiny hand.
“Oh no! Why would you say that, Mistress? Never! You just got a tattoo of me on your back. And I’m just a pixie.”
I laughed. “You’re my friend.” She shook her little head, and I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I feel like I’ve changed so much this summer. Like I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what people think.”
“What do you care about, then?”
“One thing and one thing only. Retiring my father.”
She gulped. “Killing him.”
I laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Sure. That.” Except I knew I couldn’t do it. Not that I didn’t want to, but the only time he’d challenged me to a scythe fight, he’d beaten my ass. “I knew Scylla Charon isn’t teaching you squat in PE,” he’d said. “You know how to use your scythe for reaping, but you’re a terrible fighter.” And then he made a note in the notebook he’d dedicated to revolutionizing the Academy. He was probably going to make Professor Charon teach us how to fight, which sounded absolutely stupid to me. Why would a Grim Reaper need to know how to fight and kill with her scythe?! I knew why I had to, but generally speaking, it was stupid. Just to retire the old Grim Reapers? Morningstar actively working on teaching the students – on teaching me – how to kill didn’t make any sense at all. He baffled me.
Corri trembled. “I don’t like this, Mistress. Too dangerous.”
I motioned for her to come sit on my shoulder. “Someone has to do it. Not someone. Me. I’m the only one who can do it. The prophecy says so.” My scythe started throbbing in my hand, the blade glowing scarlet. I sighed. “Here we go again…” I teleported us both to where I was called to reap. Crassus was right behind me.
* * *
Year three, semester one. Grim Reaper Academy.
I materialized in a cloud of black smoke at the tall, iron wrought gates, and looked up at the gothic building. I smiled when I remembered this exact day, this exact time, one year before. GC and Paz had been waiting for me after a whole summer of texting and video chatting. They’d taken turns lifting me up, kissing me… and then they’d fought over me, like silly children. No one was waiting for me now. I hadn’t told them when I’d come because I didn’t want them to meet me. They’d only get themselves in trouble. Valentine Morningstar was already at the Academy, in his new office, playing Headmaster. I’d reaped until the very night before the first day of school. I knew that if I’d come earlier, the temptation would’ve been too strong, and I didn’t want to get my guys in trouble before the year started. Because I knew I was going to get them in trouble, eventually. I had no idea what my father had decided for the whole Academy, but I knew what he’d decided for me: that I was supposed to be single until I graduated, focus on my studies, and if I was a good, obedient daughter and became a Grim Reaper, then he’d find me a worthy match. Probably an angel, or something. Some boring seraph. What bugged him most wasn’t that I was dating, but that I was dating a demon and a false god.
“Ready?” Corri asked in an excited whisper.
“Mhm. Let’s do this.”
I stepped through the gates, walked down the corridor that led to the inner courtyard, pushed the doors open, and stepped into the warm light of the setting sun. There weren’t many students outside, but the ones who happened to lounge and catch up around the stone tables over drinks, snacks, and boardgames, looked up and went silent.
“Mila Morningstar is in the house,” I mumbled sarcastically. They were all looking at me like I was the eighth wonder of the world. Big eyes and pursed lips. They cou
ldn’t wait for me to move the fuck faster and get inside, so they could gossip behind my back.
“Mistress, they’re behaving like they know something…”
“Of course they fucking know something. Valentine probably bragged about sending me to reap all summer.”
As I crossed the courtyard, I saw Pandora, Kitty, and Sheba leaning against a wall, passing a cigarette around. Pandora waved at me. I furrowed my brows and nodded. Klaus popped out of nowhere and threw his arms around me.
“Girl, you’re finally here! What took you so long?”
I hugged him back. “I’ve been volunteering all summer, haven’t you heard?”
He held me at arm’s length and studied me closely. Once he was satisfied, he gave me the biggest grin he could muster. “There’s no volunteering when it comes to reaping. You’ll get paid, you’ll see. Of course I heard. Your dear father has made sure the whole school knows what a kickass reaper you are. If nothing else, he’s proud of you, and it shows.”
I rolled my eyes. “He still thinks he can get me in his corner.”
