Page 33 of Reaper
“It does.”
“Fine, both.”
“Stubborn Warrior,” Skuld chides.
“Look, I’ll complete Odin’s assignment,” I tell her. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep Kyra safe from whatever threat is out there. The twins too. And as soon as that’s done, I’m coming back to Valhalla… alone.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Is it something you already know the answer to?” I counter hotly.
“It is. It’s also something I need to hear you say out loud.”
“Go ahead.”
“What do you want, Reaper? Deep down, what would make you happy in your afterlife?”
I think about her question, about how to respond without giving too much away because what would make me happy is impossible. And she knows it. Rather than give her the honesty I know she’ll pluck from my mind anyway, I lie.
“I’m happy to spend my afterlife serving Odin and protecting Valhalla.”
18
Odin
“Idon’t know what you want to hear.”
“I want to hear the truth,” I tell Skuld. “How is our boy holding up?”
The Valkyrie glances from me to my screens and back again. “Like you can’t find out on your own.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t always like to pry.”
“Sir?” she asks, confusion in her expression.
Smiling, I rest a hand on her shoulder and urge her to the opposite side of the room where the wall is lined with file cabinets. What no one can see is that the cabinets are thousands upon thousands deep with files on every single Warrior and Valkyrie to ever set foot in Valhalla. With a wave of my hand, one of the drawers opens, and Skuld gasps.
“Go ahead,” I instruct. “See what’s inside.”
She hesitantly steps forward and takes out the first file. “Craig Binder,” she reads, staring at the label. “What is this?”
“What does it look like?”
“With all due respect, it looks like exactly the opposite of not prying.”
I chuckle. Every Valkyrie thinks that when I first show them this, but like them, she’ll soon change her mind.
“Not everything is as it appears, Skuld. Go ahead, open it.”
She narrows her eyes but does as she’s told. As she skims page after page, her eyes widen. “These are complaints.”
“That’s right. But whose complaints are they?”
“Reaper’s, Sir.”
“Exactly. Despite how it appears, I do care about those who serve me. I heareverythingthey say and think. But I pay close attention to the complaints.”
“Why?”
