She scoops two big spoonfuls on my plate and hers, then goes for the bacon. I pour myself coffee and do my best not to be obvious as I look around.
“Everyone is staring at me,” I whisper, tipping my head toward Kaia. There’s something about her that I like, something I can’t quite put my finger on other than she slightly reminds me of Cassandra.
“Well you can’t blame them,” Kaia says with a shrug. “We don’t usually get new reapers as old as you.”
“And definitely not ones who used to be human.” Blaze smirks at me. “You’re a mini-celebrity around here, you know. The last human to ever be turned into a reaper was born over a thousand years ago, and it was rumored that the Angel of Death sought him out personally.”
I nearly choke on my eggs. “Wait…the Angel of Death is real?”
Blaze and Kaia laugh. “Who do you think we’re working for? Angel of Death…Hades…Anubis…he goes by many names. It’ll be our job to take the souls to him so he can direct them to where they need to go. It’s our job to bring them to the afterlife, but not to determine which way they go from there. We don’t get to pass judgment, though their fate was determined before they died.” Blaze flashes a brilliant smile. “How’s that for a crash history course?”
“You’ll be properly schooled on reaper history,” Max says, filling his plate with some sort of breakfast casserole. “Starting with Reaper History 101. I’m sure you’ll get the book today to read cover to cover so you can suffer like the rest of us. The writing is dry in that one.”
I take another bite of food and just happen to look up right as Professor Dal walks into the mess hall. He’s wearing a black cloak again, but today the lining is silver. It shimmers when he walks as the fabric catches the sunlight.
“He’s the Demonology professor, right?” I ask Kaia, hoping she’ll tell me more about what kind of teacher he is.
She follows my gaze. “Yeah. He’s like crazy smart and holds the academy record for most demons killed.”
“But he doesn’t hunt them anymore, right? That’s what he told me the night I…I died.” I shake my head. “That sounds so weird to say.”
“It does,” Kaia agrees. “And right, he retired from hunting to teach, which is perfect for us.” She smiles. “We’ve been learning from the best.”
“Less talking, more eating,” Maxon says brusquely. “They’re really strict about the schedule here.”
A hush falls over our table as we eat, and the hum of voices quiets down throughout the entire room as the others do the same.
“After breakfast you go right to your classes,” Kaia tells me as she pushes her empty plate away. “There’s a fifteen-minute break, but some of the classes are so far away it takes the whole ten minutes to get there. Depending on what you have, you’ll want to bring your books.”
“Gotcha.” I eat one last piece of bacon. I’m properly stuffed, and shouldn’t be hungry for hours. I always enjoyed eating a big breakfast but it was a luxury I couldn’t usually afford. The idea that I can eat like this whenever I want is almost enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Once we’re done, Maxon takes me to Headmistress Messor’s office. The door is ajar a few inches, and Maxon is about to reach for it when it opens and someone steps out.
“Good morning, Mr. Bellator,” Professor Dal greets us with a smile. He has on pinstriped navy-blue pants and a light pink dress shirt with a navy vest over top.Stylish.“And Miss Blake. I take it your first night here went smoothly?”
“As smooth as it could go,” I reply. “I’m excited to start my classes and begin training.”
His eyes twinkle. “I am eager to see what you can do.” He sweeps his hand out at Headmistress Messor’s office. “Are you two waiting?”
“Yes,” Maxon answers for me.
“Well by all means, don’t let me stop you.” He steps aside to let us through, and winks at me. “I’ll see you two in class shortly.”
* * *
The first timeI stepped into the headmistress’s office, I was so overwhelmed by what was happening that I failed to notice the details of the room. This time, as I walk in, I allow myself to take in the space, and I’m struck by how different it is from what I’d envisioned. Instead of stone floors and dark wooden paneling on the walls, the hardwood floors are light oak, and the walls are gray with white wainscoting. Everything is still formal, but it’s girly and pretty, and the space is bright and airy, welcoming instead of forbidding.
“Please have a seat,” the headmistress says, sweeping her hand out at two chairs in front of her desk. Max and I both stride forward, taking a seat. The chairs are comfortable, but I perch on the edge rather than allow myself to sink in, still feeling anxious.
“How are you settling in?” she asks me.
“Good…I think?” I fight the urge to fidget in my seat at the expectant look on her face. “It’s just…this place is so different from what I’m used to. But I think I’m catching on quickly. And I have made a few friends.”
“Very good.” The headmistress smiles, then her sharp gaze moves to Maxon. “And you? Have your wounds healed? You took a bad lashing less than a week ago.”
Maxon clenches his jaw. “I’m fine.”
The headmistress raises an eyebrow. “You’re lucky, is what you are. If Miss Blake here hadn’t intervened, you could have very well gotten yourself killed.”
