Unreap My Heart (The Reaper Series) (31 page)

Not thinking twice about what he had to do Balthazar pinched her chin and opened her mouth. He stuck his tongue in and rubbed the last of the powder he hadn’t swallowed onto hers. She wouldn’t be happy when she found out, but it wasn’t technically a kiss when he did it to save her life. Done transferring the last bit of the powder, Balthazar closed her mouth and massaged her throat so she swallowed. When he felt her do so, he gathered her closer to his still-mending chest and stood up. His legs bore her weight and his.

“Is she…”

Balthazar had forgotten about Ben until the boy couldn’t finish his sentence.

“No,” he said, more to comfort himself than Ben. The relief in the boy’s face was enough for him to keep going. He looked down at Arianne. The lightning had damaged her soul, making it appear like her skin was peeling off. He returned his gaze to Ben and said, “You better keep up.”

Ben nodded once, the same determination Arianne would get showing in his eyes. Balthazar had to grudgingly admit he liked the kid. Before he could grin, another bolt reminded him why they had to get away. Arianne wouldn’t survive another hit. She was barely surviving already.

Balthazar turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction of where the lightning bolts were coming from. He didn’t bother checking if Ben managed to keep up. He weaved in and out of the forest perimeter, using the Blood Trees for cover. If the tightening in his chest meant he’d started having a heart attack the second the lightning bolt struck Arianne, then it was another first Balthazar couldn’t believe he’d had.

Sucking it up against his own painful healing, Balthazar gave Arianne one quick glance and winced. She looked pretty bad—red skin alternated with black, her hair singed, and angry, smoking wounds littered every exposed part of her. Then his gaze landed on the red thread—the tether to her body in the human world. His eyes widened. Again his chest tightened.

Chapter 34

TLC

E
YES
C
LOSED
. Body warm but heavy. The acrid smell of burnt flesh faded. The explosions receded, replaced by voices. A couple of them, speaking in hushed tones. Both familiar, both voices Arianne thought she’d never hear again. She shifted her body as her consciousness surfaced from the darkness she’d plunged into the second everything around her exploded. The last image she had was of Balthazar on his hands and knees after he’d swallowed the pearl thing he’d asked her to help him drink. From the way his face looked, the pearl in that vial couldn’t have tasted good. But the instant it went down his throat, he seemed much better, so maybe the vial’s contents helped heal him.

As she lay on her side, whatever they’d put her on felt springy against her weight. Also, something cocooned her in awesome warmness. She never wanted to open her eyes.

One side dipped. The distinct sound of bedsprings woke her further. A soft hand, unlike the roughness of Balthazar’s, touched her forehead. In surprise, Arianne’s eyes shot open. Similar blue eyes, the same flaming red hair, and the heart-shaped face of her mother stared back, a small smile on her coral lipstick lips.

“Mom?” Arianne said in a scratchy voice. She moved her gaze from the face to the white power suit. Must be a weekday if her mother was dressed for work.

“Good,” she answered in her soft but authoritative tone. “I thought I’d have to drive you to the hospital if your fever didn’t break.”

“Fever?” Arianne heard her mother’s words but they didn’t register properly in her head. What fever?

“Figures you’d get sick on the first day of school,” the second voice chimed in.

Arianne’s heart sputtered. “Carrie?” She tried sitting up. Her mother’s hand pushed her back gently into bed.

“You don’t want your fever to come back, do you?” She stared pointedly at Arianne—a look that dared her to disobey under pain of death.

Her body felt like lead anyway, so she sank back into her bed, sheets pulled up to her chin. She angled her head so she could see around her mother’s body. Her chest ached at the sight of Carrie all ready for school in a summer dress and espadrilles, leaning against the door, her pink backpack at her feet.

“Carrie?” she called her sister’s name again. She had to. Carrie standing there all pink-cheeked and shiny hair seemed so unreal.

“I think she’s delirious, Mom,” Carrie said.

“But the fever’s gone.” Her mother checked again by touching Arianne’s forehead then cheeks. She frowned. “Maybe I should bring you to the hospital just in case.”

Arianne didn’t know what to say. One second she was skirting the Ghoul Woods to get to the Strait of Gwen—dodging nasty lightning bolts—and the next she was opening her eyes to find herself home in bed with her mom checking if she still had a fever and her sister—who her family had just buried—was standing by her door. Weird, freaky—
The Twilight Zone
couldn’t come close to describing the scene playing out in front of her. Maybe if she pinched herself she’d wake up and she’d find herself back with Balthazar and Ben.

About to close her eyes to test her dream theory, Arianne caught the look that passed between her mother and Carrie. She shared that look with her mother right before they took Carrie to the hospital. If they brought her to the emergency room now, she wouldn’t be able to figure out anything.

Thinking fast, she said, “I’m fine, Mom.”

Her mom’s frown shifted to a straight line. “You sure?”

Arianne clutched the sheets to her chin and settled deeper into her bed. “Yeah. I think I’ll just sleep the rest of the day.”

The look on her mother’s face said she wasn’t buying what Arianne was selling. So Arianne looked to Carrie for some help. Carrie rolled her eyes before her lips pulled into a wicked grin.

“I’m gonna be late, Mom,” she said in that patented whiney voice that never failed to get their parents to comply with whatever she wanted.

Their mother glanced back at Carrie then sighed. She turned back to Arianne just as she inhaled to heave a sigh of relief. Arianne held her breath, blinking up at her naturally suspicious mother.

“Make sure you call me if you feel like the fever’s coming back,” she instructed.

Arianne nodded, afraid if she said anything more her mother would change her mind.

“There’s chicken soup in the fridge—”

“Heat it up in the microwave, blah, blah, blah,” Carrie interrupted. “She’s a big girl, Mom. Ari can take care of herself.”

With an exasperated frown, Arianne’s mother planted a kiss on her forehead then rubbed away the lipstick mark she’d left behind with her thumb. It freaked Arianne out how normal everyone was acting.

Seriously, all this had to be a dream.

No matter how fantastical being in the Underverse seemed right now, being there was Arianne’s reality, not Carrie being alive and her mother worrying over her being sick. She couldn’t let herself hope for it or she’d fall apart. Sure, at some point, Arianne wished to go home, wished everything that had happened so far never had, but for that wish to actually come true shouldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be. Her chest ached thinking about it.

“Anything you want for dinner?”

Her mother’s question brought Arianne back to the strange present she currently found herself in. She forced herself to focus. Not particularly hungry for anything, she said the first thing that popped into her head.

“Pizza.”

“Extra cheese,” Carrie piped in. She slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Come on, Mom. Don’t wanna be late.”

Her mother gave Arianne one last assessing glance before she pushed off the bed and flattened out the unwrinkled front of her pants. Her mother never wrinkled—at least the dream got that right.

Yup, totally a dream.

Arianne decided that unless she had more proof which told her otherwise she’d keep thinking of it as a dream.

“Leave the door open,” she said when her mother’s hand closed around the knob. Her mother complied then left.

Carrie waited a beat then mouthed, “You owe me.”

Arianne mouthed a “thank you” back then stuck her tongue out at her sister. She missed Carrie so much it hurt.

Seeing her healthy hurt even worse because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Carrie that way. Her last memory of her sister involved a hospital room and a dialysis machine. Arianne took a deep breath to dissipate some of the pain lodged at the center of her chest.

Carrie stuck her tongue out too before she sprinted after their mother. Arianne waited. The front door opened then shut. The deadbolt slid into place. Then car doors opened then closed. An engine started. Arianne counted to twenty after she heard her mother’s car pull away. She waited an extra ten seconds. No other sound followed. Her father must have left for work before everyone else.

Arianne finally breathed the sigh of relief she’d been holding in. She didn’t know how she could deal with seeing her dad. When her mother spent most nights with Carrie at the hospital, she and her dad had become a team, battening down the hatches while they weathered the storm. If she saw her dad now, she might not want to leave.

Once enough time without anyone else making a peep inside the house passed, Arianne sat up and pushed aside her comforter and blanket. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up.

On her feet, she wobbled. The blood rush to her head doubled her vision. She padded her way to the bathroom then to the sink. After splashing water on her face, which didn’t help end the dream—because pinching was just crazy—Arianne grabbed a towel and dried off.

Leaving the towel by the sink, Arianne stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was still a mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Saying she looked like crap would be a lie because she looked worse than crap right now. She gathered her hair into a ponytail then left the bathroom to change.

After leaving her pajamas on the floor and slipping into jeans and a T-shirt, Arianne stepped out of her room. She considered making her bed but didn’t see the point. Although, for a dream, everything sure seemed way too realistic. She rushed down the stairs and padded to the kitchen. Maybe the chicken soup her mother promised would help.

“Hey, you.”

Arianne whirled around to come face to face with Niko. The grin on his handsome face sent a familiar shiver down her spine. Her belly quivered like jelly. Without thinking twice about it, she ran into his arms and held on. She inhaled his fresh minty scent, burying her fingers into his black as midnight hair. Then—just as he gathered her closer—a thought made her pull back. She stared into his eyes—a rainy night couldn’t compare to their darkness.

“You’re not some Angel’s tear hallucination, are you?” she blurted out.

Niko tilted his head to the side and stared back at her for a second before he said, “How’d you know about Angel’s tears?”

“So you’re still the Reaper of Georgia?”

“Last time I checked.” His hands on her hips tightened. “Ari, what’s the matter? You’re acting weird.”

Blinking several times, Arianne had to remind herself about the dream. This couldn’t be real. Yeah, a dream. A really awesome one, but a dream nonetheless. She forced herself to step away from Niko’s arms and dropped her gaze.

“You’re not real,” she said, more for herself than to hurt him in any way.

“Ari, what are you saying?” Niko reached for her.

Arianne moved away from his touch even if she wanted to drown in it. “The last time I saw you, you were in a crystal coffin surrounded by milky water.”

“Can you hear yourself right now?”

“Yeah.” She backed up until her lower back hit the kitchen table. “All this isn’t real. Carrie’s dead. My mom’s a mess. My dad’s barely holding it together. Ben’s dead too. And I have to find the Redeemer before it’s too late.” She glanced at her finger. The ring wasn’t there. Why would it be in a dream?

“I skipped morning assembly to check on you.” Niko stopped his advance, a confused frown on his sexy lips. A lock of his hair fell over his wrinkled forehead. “Should you be out of bed?”

“I’m fine.” Arianne voice shook. She didn’t feel fine. What was she saying? Maybe this—being in the kitchen with Niko—was reality and the rest of it was the dream. Arianne’s heart twisted. She rubbed her forehead when a dizzy spell sent her leaning against the kitchen table until she practically sat on top of it.

“Ari.”

“No!” She held up her hand. “I have to figure this out. All of this isn’t making any sense right now. I should be with Balthazar and Ben.”

“Ben’s in school.”

Her head whipped up. She narrowed her gaze at Niko, who’d since stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “What? What do you mean Ben’s in school?”

He shrugged. “Coach called him in for morning practice.”

“Ben hates morning practice.” Arianne pushed away from the table, able to think straight again. The dizzy spell still made her feel off balance, but she managed to stay on both feet.

“Tell me about it. But he’s a pretty good basketball player.”

Arianne’s heartbeat kicked up. “Baseball.”

“What?”

She stepped closer, staring into Niko’s face, searching for the truth. “Ben plays baseball, not basketball.”