"Dead bangers!" someone yelled from the academy gardens.

The Misten Reaper Academy was home to over three thousand boarding students—three thousand Reapers. All Ivy League–worthy, polished, steel eyed, and sharp.

The academy itself had stood since before Misten was even a town. In its early days, it was located within a great forest. It rose with huge columns of stone and iron, sparkling spires, and great lead-lined windows. Around them, humans hurried down the footpath, completely oblivious to the monster of a building beside them—and the monsters filing off the bus.

Outside, the academy had defined boundaries. As huge as it was, it was nestled deep within a large flat piece of estate land. Manicured shrubs and trees and pearl-lined paths paved the green block, and gardens and butterfly houses dotted the corners, while stone training arenas circled the academy walls.

Inside, however, the academy was endless—a constant maze of ever-changing halls and staircases. The elder Reapers claimed the building was alive, and that if you mistreated it, its magic halls would make you disappear forever.

Necromancy was so profoundly banned inside school grounds that the plaque outside the gates practically screamed.

W A R N I N G

THIS SCHOOL DOES NOT TOLERATE THE FOLLOWING:

1. Any use of necromantic magic once within the gates.

2. Raising of the dead.

3. Speak of raising of the dead.

4. Threats of raising the dead.

5. Rumors of raising the dead.

6. The use of any necromantic gifts.

7. Chewing gum.

Not only was the practice of necromancy itself banned, but any second gifts that a Necromancer inherited were banned as well. Reapers, unlike Necromancers, didn't inherit gifts—they were Reapers and that was all there was to it.

The Laheys had been homeschooled on all things necromantic due to their family's Reaper transition. By the age of two, the Lahey children were able to control their powers, whereas before they would accidentally raise dead birds and mice when upset. Once they became aware of their abilities, the girls were asked to search through the gardens of Ebony Manor to find something dead.

Alice had found a beetle, Lilith a small bird, Chasity a snake, Eris a baby raccoon, and Nyx a butterfly. The creatures were each placed in their own separate jars and set on shelves in their bedrooms where, once a fortnight, the girls would raise them and release the buildup of their necromantic power. After a day or two, their mothers would make them siphon their excess life, and the creatures would be corpses again until their next resurrection.

At home, they were just Necromancers who took Reaper classes. At the academy, they were second-best Reapers—things that needed to be watched. Even as they walked the halls, there were always eyes on them. Someone was always stationed nearby. They were only guests here, and they knew it.

And so, out of spite they always found ways to get sent to the headmaster's office. Eris might secretly resurrect a hive of bees, sending them flying through the halls. Alice might singe someone's hands or hair. Lilith's invisible friends would sometimes follow her to school—Fred and George Weasley tripping people in the halls, Gandalf refusing to let people pass through classroom doors.

"You know," Lilith whispered during first period, using her brush to paint the long black feathers of a bird on canvas, "I really don't know what the point of this class is."

Beside her, Alice nodded, watching the other students paint in silence. "I honestly don't understand how I'm meant to give a shit about this class when I have a battle exam next."

Nyx watched Lilith painting, staring at the flicks of Lilith's brush as she shaped the wing of a bird.

"You okay?" Lilith asked.

Nyx looked at the brush in her hand then at her own blank canvas. She faked a smile. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Shhh," someone hissed.

Lilith frowned. "Oh, just that you haven't done anything . . . I thought you liked this class?"

"Sorry." Nyx blinked. "What'd you say?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lilith asked again. "You're not still thinking about what happened this morning, are you? You know it's just one of her dreams."

Lilith painted a white oval, mixing with the black of the bird to create a light gray.

"What? Of course I'm not," Nyx lied, still fixated on Lilith's painting.

"Okay, good," Lilith said. "I don't want you to think it's your fault or anything." She painted a thin white line that stretched to the bird's mouth.

Nyx's face felt hot. "What are you painting?"

Lilith looked at her. "Oh, lately I've been seeing this big, black raven around the house. Poor thing looks like it's lost an eye. And last night I had a dream about a raven—I'm not sure if it's the same one—flying off with a locket like this." She pointed to the gray oval.

A silver has gone missing. "So, you've seen that bird?"

Lilith nodded. "Yeah, I don't know if it's sick or has a broken foot or something, it's always hanging around. You've seen it too?" she asked, highlighting the edges of the locket with bright white.

Nyx swallowed. "Um, yeah. A few times. It likes to sit outside my window at night."

Madame Lorel, seated at the front of the class, sighed and set down her newspaper. "Who is talking?" she asked.

A girl behind them cleared her throat. "It's Nyx and

Lilith Lahey, madame."

Madame then picked up her paper again. "That's all right, girls, just keep it quiet."

Lilith smiled to herself and continued painting. The girl huffed in annoyance.

"Why does she always do that?" said a voice from the row behind them. "If it had been any of us, we would have been screamed at in front of the entire class. I'm so over her favoriting them."

Alice scoffed, not turning from her canvas. "It's favoring, Alicia. Jesus. Are you sure you're even smart enough for this class?"

Alicia continued, "One day, they're going to find out about this bullshit and hopefully kick your ugly ass out of school."

Another girl piped up. "Honestly, I don't know why they're even letting these things come to the academy."

"Yeah, like, do you guys even know the Reaper's Oath?" Alicia laughed.

Nyx swung around and faced them. All three were pale, with light, strawberry-blond hair. Alicia sat in the middle, smiling. "You know what—"

Lilith grabbed the corner of Nyx's jacket and swung her back around. "Calm down," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"You know what?" Alicia laughed. "You're lucky someone was ever stupid enough to give your family a chance here. They should have just killed you like the rest. Save our school looking like a joke."

"Don't listen to her," Lilith whispered.

"No," Alicia said. "You should know. No one wants you here. This is what everyone thinks of you. Your family is vile."

A fizzing sound quietly filled the air.

"It's actually embarrassing seeing you come here every day. Embarrassing for you. Embarrassing for our school. And while you're at it . . . what is that noise? Jessie, can you hear that?"

The noise grew suddenly louder, and a sudden bang reverberated throughout the room. Alicia and her friends screamed, chairs scraping backward as they stood. Nyx swung back around and saw the burst paint cans, aluminum canisters sizzling, boiling paint splattered all over.

Alicia held her face, screaming, as red-hot paint ran down her cheeks. Half of the class ran out of the room.

Nyx looked at Alice. She simply stared at her canvas. Hood off.

—

"For how long?" Eris asked, speaking around a mouthful of peanut butter.

Nyx sighed, leaning forward. "A day."

Alice sat next to her, silent. Lilith watched her from across the lunch table, seated next to Eris. The younger girls sat on the grass nearby, engrossed in their own conversation. They had all been suspended for a day and taken out to the front of the school to wait for Maura to pick them up.

"Dibs not mopping the house tomorrow, then," Eris said, followed by six more dib-nots.

"Lilith, you were the last one." Hunting laughed, pointing.

Lilith shrugged. "I have friends who love cleaning. Those animals from the Snow White movie."

Watching Lilith, Nyx couldn't stop thinking about her painting. A raven. A necklace. The silver necklace was in her jeans pocket at that moment—she was paranoid about someone finding it in her backpack.

The wind beat against Nyx's ears. She scoured the school grounds, searching for a boy in a black coat coming to hunt her down and take back what was his. Bird wings beat overhead, louder than they should have been. She looked up.

And saw a flash of black in the branches above.