Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1) by Cecilia Robert Read Free Book Online Page A

Heat prickles up my face, realising he’d just plucked my thoughts. I shift on my feet, thinking of the short leash I’ll be on before the months are up.
    I swallow, and straighten to my full height. Thirteen months is not a long time. “What are my tasks?” Somehow I have an idea what his answer will be, but the urge to get a confirmation is strong.
    Grim tilts his head slightly, probably deciding to humour me with an answer. “Accompanying me for soul collections.”
    I mull the words. “Novice and Soul Collector… Don’t they do just about the same thing?”
    “No.” Grim folds his hands behind his back. “As a Novice, you are exempted from other responsibilities. A Soul Collector collects souls and ensures the soul’s safe passage to the other side. A Novice, on the other hand, learns the art of soul collection.” He pauses then says, “Now, what kind of mentor would I be if I wouldn’t grant your wish?”
    My upper body hurls forwards, and I gulp for breath. He’s granting my wish? A part of me still hopes he’s changed his mind about the four souls.
    Someone yells my name. I’d know that voice even in my dreams: the voice that usually sends my blood bubbling in delight now chills it with dreaded anticipation. I spin around to see Rolf push off the wall next to the entrance, hurrying towards us. Didn’t he leave with Lea and Reiner? I swivel back to face Grim, my eyes wide. His gaze slides over my shoulder and back at me, less bothered by the fact that Rolf is hurtling our way at an indecent speed.
    “I—I can’t explain who you are. I’m not ready to. Please.”
    He studies me through slit eyes. Behind me Rolf’s footfalls chomp the ground, closing the distance. Grim sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as if I just asked him to give up on the dessert he’s been waiting for the whole evening.
    “All right, Novice.” His baritone voice reflects boredom. “Your wish for a normal life is granted. For now. In the meantime, prepare yourself. Expect me anytime. Remember, the souls.” He turns to walk away.
    As if I’d forget.
    “Grim,” I say quickly, my ears trained on Rolf’s footfalls closing in.
    Grim halts mid-step and twists around to face me. “Ernest. It would please me very much if you called me Ernest.”
    “Ernest,” I say quietly. “Thank you. For everything.”
    Grim gives me his regal-pirate nod, turns, and saunters off in the direction of the school building, whistling an eerie tune that makes my skin crawl. He halts to talk to Rolf, scowling. What is he saying to him? Rolf nods, then shakes his head. Grim saunters off.
    I wipe my palms on my shorts, and when I look up, Rolf is in front of me, eyebrows pulled down. His hands close around my arms, and I breathe out, relieved by his touch, his strength. At the same time, I tense, desperate to pull away. Unable to hold his gaze, afraid he’ll see how shaken I am, I drop my gaze to my feet.
    “What’s wrong, Ana?” He seems to be trying very hard to control his voice, leash the panic that is barely restraining itself where his hands grip my arms.
    My heart whispers that I should tell him everything. My mind scolds me, reminding me my life isn’t normal. Not anymore.
    Rolf’s fingers touch my face, moving tentatively over my cheek, and tilting my chin up. “Look at me, Engel . Please.”
    He ducks his head, meeting my gaze. “You okay?” His hands skim my shoulders, squeezing as they glide down my arms and engulf my hands in a warm, comfortingly familiar grip.
    I nod, then swallow. “I’m fine, Ro. A bit too hot, but fine.” I’m surprised my mind is able to assemble not one but two sentences. I smile, hoping to reassure him.
    “What did Schulz say to you? You look dazed.” His hands, as if restless, eager to make sure I won’t collapse on the grass, run up and down my arms. They stop at different intervals to squeeze me lightly. I shiver, leaning into his touch.
    “Nothing much, just—wait, what did you say?” I