The Soul Eaters (The Thin Hex Line Book 1) by Gwyndolyn Russell (100 best novels of all time .txt) 📗

budge. He slipped by the wolf to take a seat in his chair.

“If you think you’re in trouble, you aren’t.” He leaned back.

Its jaws separated before softly closing again. He imagined how uncomfortable it must be to have teeth so large and haphazardly grown in.

Reaper grabbed a few sheets of paper from his desk and skimmed over them.

“Reynolds gave me her notes from your exam.” He said. “She says you’re a marvel.” He almost laughed.

Fenris was quiet, watching him.

“All right, look. I wanted to speak to you because it’s our duty to discover the unknown.” He wasn’t sure if it were just him, or not, but he could see darkness creeping in from the corners of his eyes. In fact, Fenris was turning into a shadow. Only the lights on its body were visible.

“You’re...unknown to us.” If black could get any darker, it certainly was now.

Fenris gave a slow, steady nod.

Reaper found himself at a loss for words. His thoughts blurred. He knew what he wanted to say, to ask, but every time he tried to speak, he could only mutter sounds. It felt like his body was sinking into mud.

He looked down to the papers in his hand, focusing on the words printed. Even those melted away into the shadows. When he looked back up, he could only see those red lights. Breathing upwards across Fenris’ hidden frame. His soul floated from his body. Carried on waves in sync with the lights. He briefly remembered how Jackal described how he focused on the breathing. So, Reaper gave it a shot. Slow deep breaths.

One...Two...Three…

The words finally came to the forefront of his mind. There at the tip of his tongue. Even when the roots of darkness started to wrap around his ankles and wrists, he blurted them out.

“What is a valkyrie?”

Wicked, twisted teeth poked out of the dark. Lit up by the crimson lights. The jaws separated wide enough to swallow his head whole. Reaper’s heart sank like a rock. His bones trembled.

The jaws snapped shut, nearly brushing the tip of his nose. The sound of the clack echoed, rippled through the darkness. The shadows were shoved away by the sound. Light rippling in. The roots pulled Reaper back down and into his body.

He rubbed his eyes, groaning. Hands shook uncontrollably. He thought he was dying. Thought he was being sent into the maw of hell. When he opened his eyes, Fenris was standing there, leaning towards him with a curious tilt to its head. The cracks for eyes shimmered with worry.

One elbow supported all his weight while he dug into a drawer for a glass and a bottle of liquor. It was the only thing he thought could clear the haze from his mind. His heart thumped, threatening to rupture there against his ribs.

Fenris looked itself over before watching him again. He drank from the glass, downing the entire thing and filling it once more. He rubbed his face. Smoothed his hair over his head.

“Are...you doing that…?” Reaper could barely get the words out.

“Do what?” Fenris’ head tilted to the other side.

“Th-that soul...tearing...shadow thing.”

“Fenris understand not.”

He downed half his glass.

His mind was clearing slowly. Warmth flooded his body once more. Funny how alcohol was the cure for most ailments. With a deep breath, Reaper leaned back in his seat. He opened his mouth to speak, but Fenris cut him off.

“Warrior.”

“You’re a warrior?”

“All valkyrie. Fenris strategize.”

He hummed in thought, wanting to push away the strange hallucination. If Fenris could strategize combat, then it must have had a unique way of commanding forces. Strange, Reaper did not expect to hear that from the creature.

“Have you heard of Arena of Warfare?”

“No.”

Reaper tapped a few times on his desk, pulling up the screen. After a few more taps, a hologram popped up so both of them could see. The title screen, with the name rotating in place.

“It’s a war simulation. I use it to stay sharp.” A sip of his drink. “I usually play with Jackal, but he’s gotten too predictable. Want to try it out?”

The valkyrie gave a nod. It had nothing better to do. Perhaps they could each learn something.

FIFTEEN

Ianisse took a swift swing for his face only to be struck in the chin. He hit the floor with a hard thud. Eyes shut tight, he lay there with a contorted face. Sparrow stood over him, her fists still up to fight. She frowned, looking down at him with pity.

Mjolnir let out a big sigh, a claw tapping on his arm. “I told you it’s pointless. He doesn’t have the genetics.”

Sparrow shot a glare at him. “Don’t say that! He can do it if he really puts his mind to it!”

“I don’t think you understand biology.” Mjolnir puffed. “You can have heart in the galaxy, but if you don’t have genetics there’s nothing you can do.”

“If I can do it, then so can he!” She held a fist up to the ardrizi.

“There’s little difference between you and Ruby! You to Ianisse is a drastic difference.” Mjolnir growled, slapping one hand into the palm of his other. “Fleebeeron do not have bones, or muscles. They have no structural support.”

Sparrow’s face twisted up, her heart pounding. She knew what the struggle was. Being a woman among men. She understood the disadvantage. She hated hearing Mjolnir talk like that. To say those things without care for how it would make Ianisse feel. She knew the biology, but she refused to accept it.

“He just needs more time! If he keeps working at it, he’ll get there!”

Ruby shook his head.

“You won’t get through to her,” He whispered to Mjolnir.

Sparrow jumped back over to Ianisse, yelling at him to get back up. Tough love was the only solution.

"It's not right to do that to him." Mjolnir shook his head.

"Well, she knows what it's like to be told you can't do it."

"What do you mean?"

"Women on the front lines is still a sensitive topic, even after four hundred years." Ruby shrugged. "A lot of guys