Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1) (10 page)

What the hell is he doing?

Shark Teeth dips his head and strikes an arabesque pose I’ve seen in Lucy’s ballet classes, then swirls, flashes his shark teeth once, and poof… He vanishes.

I slump back on the bench and focus on feeding my lungs with air while scanning the now empty station.

The light attached to the train doors blinks as several beeps fill the air to alert that the doors are closing. They slide shut, and the automated voice announces the train’s departure. Inside the train car, eyes observe me, full of curiosity, pity, and irritation. Several heads move from side to side. They probably think I’m crazy.
Maybe I am.

The train pulls away from the station and leaves me glued to my seat, my body a riot of nerves.

And then I see him again, Blond Guy, unharmed. He swaggers towards me, and my heart stops altogether. He flashes me a mischievous smile, dips his head slightly in what I think is acknowledgement—or mocking, then half-shrugs and salutes me with two fingers. I blink, and he’s gone.

I choke on my breath.

It’s not real. It’s NOT real!

Something—a detail I failed to recognise while Blond Guy was having the time of his life terrorizing me flickers in my mind. He was wearing a black trench… just like Grim’s.

I snatch my violin where I abandoned it and dart towards the escalator, casting looks over my shoulder. Stumbling from the moving steps, I rush out into the warm afternoon air, trip on my trembling feet as I round the station, and brace myself on the glass wall next to an overflowing bin. I’d rather breathe the stench from it over and over than replay what I just saw in the underground. I drop the violin and slide down to sit on my heels. Yanking my knees up, I tuck my head inside my arms.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Swallow. Repeat.

Fingers tap my shoulder followed by, “
Entschuldigen Sie.
”

My head hoists itself from my folded arms. The elderly lady takes two steps back, eyes wide, and adjusts the pink and white hat perched on her head. “Young lady, is everything all right?” Her voice is strong, despite her fragile-looking body. I must look deranged.

My head bobs and I mumble, “Thank you.” She says something, but my mind is too preoccupied to keep up. As soon as she shuffles away, I grab my violin from the floor and head for the taxi stand.

W
EDNESDAY MORNING FINDS ME DOZING
in class during the fifteen-minute break. Grim appeared right before dawn to pick me up for collections. Right before his arrival, I tossed around in bed, the incident at the U-Bahn kept me awake for the better part of the night. When I finally slept, it was only to jolt awake two hours later at the presence of Grim in my room.

Now, I need my sleep desperately. And I need to study for my finals.

“You stood me up.” Lea’s voice slaps me back to the present. I groan inwardly, pulling my head up, and blink up at her. Her hands are propped on her hips, her eyes narrowed. Any tiny hope I had that she’d forgotten about my no-show for girl’s day out yesterday wilts and dies. I sigh and rub my eyes, then glance at the clock. I wish the day was over already so I can nap. Behind me, one of my classmates lets out a hyena-like laugh, and I wish the short break would end so the lesson can begin.

“I replied to your message, then waited and waited. Look.” She tugs a few strands of her lustrous, curly hair towards my face. “See, white hairs.” She pushes back her hair, rearranging it.

“I’m so, so sorry, Lea. I got home, did some house chores, lay in bed for a while, and before I knew it, I drifted off.” She stares at me, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. “Please, let me make it up to you.” When I got home last night after the U-Bahn incident, I was shaking and cold. To stop Mom from freaking out, I had an early dinner and blamed the exhaustion on the unusually hot May weather.

“Sure you’re feeling okay?” Lea asks, her voice dropping a notch.

I feel like my body has been tortured by a thousand pins.
“I promise, I am.”

She pulls the chair from her desk and lowers herself into it, crossing her jean-clad legs, then leans across my desk and whispers. “You look super-fab today. Rolf can’t seem to take his eyes off your legs in that pleated skirt.” One thing is for sure; Lea’s chances for taking part in any kind of whispering contest are next to nil. She jabs my arm with her finger. “Look, look, he’s staring.” She uses a singsong voice on the last word.

Heat surges up my cheeks. I’m not sure I want see his face. When I woke up in the morning, I found the tulips in a vase on the computer desk in my room with a note from Rolf. Mom told me he brought the flowers up—which was a huge surprise. Mom and Dad rarely allow him in my room. Hope I wasn’t snoring, talking in my sleep, or drooling. Ugh! I sneak a peek over my shoulder. His eyes walk every inch of me, from my curly obnoxious hair to my heeled feet. His eyes are darker than three nights combined. He winks, but doesn’t break his conversation with Reiner. I shiver. Probably no drool. I smile at him and turn to face Lea, who’s smiling slyly at me.

“So let’s hang out at Copa Cagrana tomorrow after school for a few hours,” I say, cutting whatever remark is bubbling on her tongue. My face has heated enough for one day. Anymore and I’ll explode.

She grins. “Or you could come with me to the exhibition at Belvedere Palace. I have an assignment to complete on Gustav Klimt’s work.”

I shake my head. “I’m on babysitting duty today. Mom and Dad have a date.” I smile, knowing I look all dreamy, but I can’t stop myself.

“Things seem to be looking up at your place.”

“You have no idea.” I laugh.

“Fine. Tomorrow then. Copa Cagrana. Are we still on for Saturday?”

I nod.

“Good. Oh, I need help with bio and studying for my finals.”

I smack my forehead and scoot away from my chair. “Yikes, I forgot. I’ll be right back.” I snatch my rucksack and dig inside for the music sheets I’ve been working on.

“What’re you looking for?”

I pull out the folder and skim through to check if everything is there. “I meant to take these to Herr Schuster on Monday.”

“Another of his ‘niece’s music composing problems’?” I stop and swing around. I raise an eyebrow at her air-quoting. Lea’s the most wary person I’ve ever met. “Why can’t he just refer his niece to you? Would be easier if she came to you for clarification or whatever.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just a few corrections.” No need to tell her I composed the whole thing. As usual, she’d rant about how I’m too nice for my own good. “His niece was having problems with how some notes weren’t coming together. I promised to work on it over the holiday.”

Lea shakes her head, unfolds her legs, and stands up. “His sixteen-year-old niece has had problems catching up every month for the last what… year? That’s how long you’ve been solving notes problems for her. You take your niceness too far, my friend. You should at least charge Herr Schuster for it.”

“That’s like charging my grandfather. Besides, I’m planning on adding him as my reference in my Conservatory application. It’s a win-win thing as far as I can see.”

She grunts in disgust and pulls her seat to where Reiner and Rolf are slouched in their seats, conversing. “He isn’t your grandfather. And you need that money if you ever dream of getting that violin you keep ogling.”

I grin. “I have my tutoring class for that.”

Lea shakes her head. “You need a cure, Ana. You think with your heart too much.”

I frown, my hands propped on my hips, and tilt my head to one side. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

“Your heart needs a break every now and then. You need to try it sometime.”

I roll my eyes. “Be back in a few.” I have seven minutes before break’s over. Enough to rush to the teacher’s lounge and back. I dash out of class, the
tap tap
of my heels echoing in the empty hallways.

Probably it’d be better if I taught his niece. I’ve literally been tutoring her through the music sheets Schuster gives me anyway. Wouldn’t hurt to meet her face to face. Maybe I could suggest this to him.

As I round the corner, I catch a glimpse of Herr Schulz and Frau Ivasec. Bulldog and Golden Retriever. They seem to be arguing. Frau Ivasec stretches on her tiptoes, nose to nose with Herr Schulz, whose eyes are narrowed at her, lips curled in a snarl. Oh, definitely juicy. At least I’ll have some gossip for lunch break.

I take a few steps back, and lean on the wall, listening. How many times has Schulz snapped and glared at me, and practically everyone else he comes in contact with? I’m torn between where my excitement lies: seeing a woman as tiny as Ivasec face him bravely, or sharing this titbit with Lea.

What has he done to break through the woman’s usual calm posture?

I fight the giggles bubbling in my throat. Such a rush.
Calm down, Ana, or you’ll excite yourself right into heart failure.

I take my advice and regulate my breathing, then peek around the corner. Frau Ivasec is pointing her index finger at Schulz, lips moving so fast she looks like she is having a mouth seizure. I focus my hearing.

“Keep your vigilance. Everything is working accordingly,” Schulz says.

“Vigilance my foot! Just because he appointed you doesn’t mean you will mess around with my charge. Take care of yours, and I’ll take care of mine.”

Herr Schulz’s glare is so intense Frau Ivasec should be smoking where she stands, but she doesn’t even flinch. I’m in awe. “Vala, you are not in a position to tell me what to do. You, my lady, are just the Keeper. Nothing more.”

A what? And did he just call her Vala?

Before I have time to mull this over, they launch into an argument, each speaking over the other. I frown. The words bursting out of their lips like bullets are…

What language are they speaking?

I must have leaned too far because I lose my balance and tumble . I manage to right myself before hitting the floor. My head jerks in their direction. I wish it hadn’t. My heart rattles in my chest, my mind racing a marathon in search of an excuse. The full force of their combined, shocked glares sear me.

With Schuster’s music sheet tucked under my arm, I straighten and wipe my hands on my skirt. No use pretending I wasn’t caught. Talk about horrible sneaking skills. Private investigator is definitely out of my list of careers.

I clench my jaw, stiffen my spine, and scurry past them, my heels tapping in nervous uniformity. My skull throbs at the heat directed to it.

“Fräulein Tei.” I cringe. Schulz’s voice is like a thousand whiplashes on my skin, with salt poured on it. I hitch my gaze from the floor and face him—them. Ouch. “Anyone ever mentioned how rude it is to poke your nose in other people’s business?”

“I’m sorry. I was on the way to see Herr Schuster. I didn’t know you and Frau Ivasec were here.” Phew. I got the words out without turning to ashes.

Herr Schulz’s chest inflates as he takes a deep breath. It deflates. He takes a step back and, with a mocking gentlemanly gesture, motions for me to pass. I sneak a glance at Frau Ivasec. She’s smiling as if nothing is wrong. I scamper past them, feeling the pressure of their gazes all the way to the teacher’s lounge. Outside, I inhale and knock once. Without waiting for a response, I dash inside and close the door behind me, then sag back on it.

Why do I let him scare me so much?

“Frau Tei, I see you completed my niece’s assignment,” Schuster says, smiling the same peaceful smile I’ve seen on his face the last four years.

I nod, trying to shake off the weird encounter in the hallway. What were the two talking about?

Schuster pushes his spectacles up his nose, takes the folder, and slides the first sheet out. His eyes widen for a split second before zipping up to me and then back to the paper. “You wrote this? How?” He pulls out the second and third sheet.

Does it matter?
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Yes. I combined my own notes with others from a… another musical sheet.”

He rubs his forehead, eyes back on the papers in his other hand. The fingers holding the folder tremble slightly. He peels his eyes from the music and stares at me. His eyes seem greener and more alive. The corners of his mouth tug as if fighting a smile. He clears his throat again. “I know it is none of my business, but I’m curious. What you composed in this folder is nothing short of… unique. I know this because, although I’m not an expert and it’s been years since I sat in a classroom to teach music, I have enough experience to recognize first-class work when I see it. May I ask about the other music sheet?”

Ookayy.
I wonder why he doesn’t teach his niece if he has a background in music. I decide to play along. “Sure. It’s a book actually, a gift.” I can’t stop the smile pulling on my lips.

Last year on my seventeenth birthday, Lea invited Rolf for my party in Lea’s restaurant. Said she’d had enough watching Rolf and me “looking longingly at each other” and someone had to do something before we died of yearning. When I opened his gift wrapped in sparkly pink paper, I was floored to see the ballads book—specifically for violin.