Unreap My Heart (The Reaper Series) (3 page)

“Since your soul is still attached to your body, you can still feel things like your heartbeat. You’re still alive, but since we left your body at Niko’s house, you don’t have to worry about eating or drinking.”

Arianne met his gaze and dropped her hands to her sides. “Won’t my body need to eat?”

“I left it in a state of suspended animation. Until you return, nothing will happen with your body. It’s almost like you’re in a coma.”

Was that supposed to comfort her? The thin line his lips became worried Arianne. “What happened? I thought I made a bargain with Death?”

“Too many questions, each with answers more complicated than the next.” Tomas stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I just came here to check on you. Now that you look fine—”

“You can’t leave me here without telling me anything,” Arianne interrupted. “Shouldn’t I be back in my body by now?” She left out the blind part. She couldn’t imagine how that would be—not being able to see. It scared her.

Tomas shook his head. “I don’t know all the details yet, so it won’t be easy to answer you.”

“Try.”

“Ari, something happened while my Master was preparing to take your sight and memories.”

“What about Niko? Where is he?”

Tomas snapped his fingers, and they stood in a room with a glowing floor and rows of crystal coffins lining the entire space. Arianne blinked away the nausea of suddenly being transported somewhere else, then her eyes landed on the nearest coffin. Inside milky liquid floated the boy she’d risked everything for. She ran to the coffin and splayed her hands over the top. His black hair spread out like a wild halo, his handsome face young and peaceful. It looked like he simply slept. Arianne swallowed against the sudden prickly lump in her throat.

“Niko.” His name seemed to echo inside the room.

Tomas stood beside her and placed his hand on top of the coffin too. “Death put him here so he could begin his change from Reaper to human before—”

The panic that had been slowly receding returned, constricting her attempts at breathing normally. “What happened, Tomas?”

“Death couldn’t finish what he started with you and Niko because someone betrayed us. Someone hurt the Master enough to disrupt the order in the Crossroads. We can’t leave and no one can come in unless we find who’s done this.”

Arianne shivered at the quiet calm in Tomas’s voice. He sounded so serious. Niko got that way sometimes, too. She returned her gaze to his sleeping face.

“What will happen to him?”

“Niko can stay here for a while and no harm will come to him. But if we don’t figure out how to save Death, I’m afraid of what will happen to Niko…to all of us.”

Arianne’s breath hitched. “You said ‘we.’”

Tomas snapped his fingers again, and they were back in the room Arianne woke up in. Her heart dropped. She didn’t want to leave Niko’s side.

“Take me back there,” she said.

Tomas shook his head. “And what will you do? Standing in that room won’t help him, Ari. I know you’re worried. I’m worried too. But if I don’t restore order to the Crossroads, I’m afraid saving Niko will be the least of our concerns.”

“So we find the traitor.” It sounded simple enough.

Tomas stared at her, his gray eyes turning cold. She knew she sounded like a kid trying to talk like an adult. She swallowed down the urge to argue. The angrier she got the more Tomas would think of her as immature. Yes, he’d lived longer compared to a seventeen-year-old, but she’d been through more than anyone should have to go through. She’d given her dying sister a chance at life by donating a kidney and almost died on the operating table, so now she had the curse of seeing the souls of dead people. Then she’d learned the guy she’d had a crush on since she started high school reaped souls for a living. There was also the torture she’d suffered on a daily basis in school because of Darla’s misguided feelings. She couldn’t just sit around waiting for Tomas to solve the problems at the Crossroads. She had to do something.

Arianne breathed in and out slowly. “Tomas, you said we. I’m already here. You might as well let me help you.”

The old Reaper sighed like he needed a good night’s sleep. “I don’t know if you
can
help. The lockdown doesn’t allow us to do much.”

“Lockdown?”

“The Crossroads is connected to Death. When Death is under attack, he shuts down everything.”

“Oh. Like a base going into a lockdown.” All those videogames Ben made her play helped her visualize it. And from the way Tomas nodded, she’d gotten it right.

“Since we can’t leave and no one can come in, we’re pretty much on our own. For what I need you to do, you need to get out of the Crossroads.”

“That’s it?” Arianne’s voice climbed an octave. “You’re giving up? There has to be another way.”

Tomas froze. He closed his eyes and stood absolutely still. Arianne didn’t dare breathe. She wanted to ask him what had happened, but from the way his eyebrows came together, he didn’t need her disturbing him. Who could be powerful enough to attack Death? He had the power to freakin’ end people’s lives. If Death could get hurt, then the person doing the hurting must be really badass. Arianne didn’t want to think who could possibly be more powerful than Death and how they could possibly stop him or her.

Tomas opened his eyes and breathed in deeply. “Someone’s managed to get into the Crossroads.”

Hope blossomed in her chest, easing her breathing. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Tomas’s frown deflated her hope almost immediately. “Not necessarily. Like I said, no one should be able to get in or out. Whoever caused the lockdown is powerful enough to incapacitate Death, but the lockdown is absolute. Not even the traitor can escape. So anyone who could enter the Crossroads now…”

“Is even scarier than the traitor,” Arianne finished for him.

“There aren’t many beings out there scarier than the Master,” he agreed. “In fact, I can count them on one hand. But a majority wouldn’t even bother to come to the Crossroads. I’m pretty sure the traitor is someone Death knows, because how else could he or she get close enough to hurt him without alarming the Master first?”

That made sense. All those crime procedurals she watched with her father were paying off. Death wouldn’t have his guard up with someone he knew. Whoever caused the lockdown knew Death and vice versa.

“But wait,” she said. “If Death was with us while I was bargaining with him, how could someone hurt him? I mean, we were the only ones in that torture room, right?”

Tomas nodded once. “Death can exist in many planes within the Crossroads. What you saw at the torture room was a reflection of his real self.”

“So…”

“His real self is always in his office signing Death Certificates,” Tomas said. “He has some omnipresence, but only within the Crossroads. He goes where he is needed without sacrificing time in the office. But sometimes he leaves the office to ‘get some fresh air.’ His words, not mine.”

“He was attacked in his office?”

“I think so. That’s why his reflection disappeared before he could finish your bargain.”

Lucky. Arianne didn’t want to seem grateful to whoever had hurt Death, but if that person had been a second later, she’d be blind right now. She remembered her dream and shuddered. Maybe if she helped save Death he would call it even, disregard the bargain, and still give Niko his humanity.

“Who do you think got into the Crossroads if we’re in a lockdown?”

Tomas’s face turned grim. “I’m going to hate to find out.”

Chapter 3

DIY

B
ALTHAZAR
H
URRIED
T
O
T
HE
C
ENTER
of the room where D sat slumped over in his skeleton chair. A thick pool of D’s blood spread like an amoeba from the chair’s legs outward. The rest of D’s crap inside the office seemed untouched, which ruled out a struggle. D must have been in his chair when the large curved dagger sticking out from the center of his chest went in.

Balthazar touched the dagger’s ornately carved handle. Explosive electricity shot through his body for the second time that day. Dammit! This one—more powerful than the first—threw him across the room. D’s robes quivered and expanded like a peacock’s tail behind its master. Balthazar slammed against the far wall outside D’s office and bounced off, face-planting on the hallway floor. Losing his dignity hurt more than the actual impact. He should have checked before reaching for the dagger. D would have removed it himself if he could. Obviously, some sort of energy field protected it. Balthazar cursed himself for being stupid. His scythe—floating beside D’s chair—laughed at him.

“Shut up,” he said through his teeth as he picked himself up. He dusted off his overcoat and marched back into the office, moving along the perimeter of the blood pool to assess the situation. Normally, the sight of his nemesis in pain would have given Balthazar some pleasure. Since he had nothing to do with that pain, he felt cheated.

“Whoever did this had stones of steel,” he said to his scythe. It finally stopped laughing and floated to Balthazar’s side. “Oh, don’t you make up with me now. I’m still pissed at you.”

Like a cat, his scythe rubbed itself against Balthazar’s side and purred. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and opened his hand. The scythe came to his palm. Once he wrapped his fingers around its staff, it sighed in contentment and disappeared. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was powerless against the thing. During his banishment, his scythe became his only company and—dare he even think it—his friend. It kept watch while he slept. It helped him hunt. And most importantly, it had saved his life more times than he cared to count. He owed it. A lot.

Balthazar returned his attention to D. “Who did this to you, bro?”

As if in answer to his question, D groaned. Balthazar leaned closer so he could hear what D mumbled. At least he assumed actual words were coming from D’s lips and not incoherent babble caused by the blood loss. Then, like a flash of lightning, D’s hand shot up and pulled Balthazar by the hair until D forced him to kneel beside the chair.

“I usually ask for dinner first,” Balthazar grumbled. He didn’t struggle against D’s hold, giving the other being a chance to lift his head and stare into his eyes. He fought against the initial pull of D’s androgynous beauty. Lesser beings would be struck dumb by the sight of him, but Balthazar knew how to negate the force of D’s attraction.

D’s eyes, not one color specifically but more like a refraction of light, focused on Balthazar. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips to his chin when he smiled.

“What are you doing here, Balthazar?”

He sounded so feral. So unlike the genteel, almost urbane Death Balthazar knew. Only once before had D sounded like this. A thousand years ago, on the day Balthazar first challenged him for his seat. Before D banished him to the Nethers. Balthazar knew that day well. He’d replayed it in his head over and over since. D must be really hurting to revert to his more primal nature.

“Honey, I’m home.” Balthazar puckered his lips as if to kiss D. He couldn’t help but goad the Master of the Crossroads, since he was obviously in pain.

D pushed him away and grunted. “Now’s not a good time, Balthazar.”

Since Balthazar’s head only tilted when D pushed at him, it spoke volumes of how weak D had become. His shallow breaths and ashen pallor proved Balthazar’s suspicions. He wasn’t weak from the blood loss. Bleeding out wouldn’t kill Death. The dagger must have done more damage than seen on first inspection. Balthazar pushed up to his feet, ignoring the blood clinging to his pants, and crossed his arms. He watched D carefully.

“Are you going to tell me what happened here or should I pry it out of your head?” Balthazar asked like he didn’t relish the task of rummaging through D’s head, but actually, he’d have a lot of fun scrambling some stuff while there. He didn’t have to wait long for D to respond.

“As you can see, I’ve been stabbed.”

“Duh, Sherlock. How could I have missed that?” Balthazar grimaced. “Damn thing threw me across the room.”

“Had to pick your ass up off the floor, didn’t you?” D barked a laugh then groaned. He rested his hands on the armrests of his chair instead of grabbing for his chest, which Balthazar suspected he wanted to do. Since any contact with the dagger meant an electric shock that felt equivalent to sitting on a million electric chairs at full power, he didn’t know what it would do if D attempted to remove it. Probably why he kept his hands out of the way.

“So, are you going to tell me who did this?”

The tic in D’s jaw said more than a lie ever would. Balthazar had known the guy long enough to pick up on his nonverbal cues. He wouldn’t budge on the information. But why?

“Okay, you’re obviously in stubborn mode. I might as well pry it out of you.” He closed his eyes and spread his consciousness to D’s mind. Like the electric shock that threw him out of the room, an unseen force pushed his consciousness back into his own head. Not only that, it used enough force to actually bring Balthazar to his knees, clutching at his head.