Kate Evangelista - Reaping Me Softly

“You seem too eager, Janika,” Tomas chided.

“If my willingness to serve can be seen as eagerness, then so be it. I only want what is best for our family.” Janika maintained a level gaze on their master.

Death retreated within himself, into a dark room he reserved within the depths of his mind to think. He reached out for the unenforced Certificate and manifested it before him. His eyes widened at the name printed on it. He considered the complications and possibilities. He summoned the threads of fate—red strings that floated in the darkness, carrying with them scenes of a mortal’s life. Death viewed how each event played out on several strings, all the consequences that could come about according to the decisions he would make. He rarely consulted fate, but occasionally, when a Reaper defied his will, he needed to regain order with minimal disturbance to time, space, and the human realm. He picked the best thread and returned to his consciousness. Tomas and Janika remained where he’d left them.

“I will allow you to go to Georgia, Janika,” Death said. At the young Reaper’s feral grin, he added, “Keep in mind that it is not your territory, so maintain respect as you would demand of any Reaper in your domain. I’m giving you this responsibility to teach you the importance of keeping order among us. Investigate the matter first before you act.”

“You will not be disappointed, Master,” she said then jumped into her portal in a whirl of wind. The hole shrunk, leaving the ceiling in its original state.

“Do you think it’s wise to send Janika? Wouldn’t someone lower be better equipped?” Tomas hid his hands in the pockets of his finely pressed trousers.

The tip of Death’s eyebrow rose. “Are you disagreeing with my decision, Tomas?”

“It’s just…we know Janika’s had it in for Nikolas since he first angered her. There’s a conflict of interest there. I don’t believe she will be fair. In fact, if I were a gambling creature, I would bet on it.”

Death considered his first in command, the air growing frigid around them. Every breath Tomas exhaled swirled like smoke. To his credit, the Reaper of California showed no signs of discomfort at the show of strength by his master. He stood his ground, meeting Death’s gaze head on, lips set in a rigid line.

“I know what I’m doing, Tomas.”

“You’d better,” Tomas said with derision before he evaporated, the icicles that formed on his clothing falling to the floor.

Death studied his cluttered desk, returning the temperature in his office to normal. His crow thanked him for it by flapping its wings then preening itself. He waved a hand and the papers and baubles vanished, leaving the tabletop bare. Snapping his fingers, a shimmering red thread materialized before him. It rose and swayed like a cobra in a basket. It slithered toward Death’s left hand and coiled around his fingers. He questioned himself for a mere instant, cursing Tomas for messing with his head.

ARIANNE GASPED, TAKING IN THE FRESHNESS of mint into her lungs. The screech of tires and loud crash of crumpling metal followed by hissing steam made her flinch. Her heart seemed to beat everywhere at once while she pressed rewind and play on the scene. She had landed the starring role in a dizzying action sequence. It started with counting the pavement cracks, Arianne walking away from her grief. A flash bomb of headlights, followed by a whirl of glittering stars, then being pulled into a sturdy embrace—one she’d only experienced in her dreams lately. She actually felt her eyes pop out of their sockets when she focused on the here and now.

“Niko?” She looked up at him to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in recognition of her voice before he met her gaze. She shivered. Oh, I missed those eyes. “I’m a little fuzzy. What happened? Why are you holding me?”

“You…huh…” He glanced over his shoulder. “I think I did something terrible.”

His uncertainty and fear infected her completely, picking up the pace of blood flowing through her veins. “What are you doing here?”

“Following you.”

“You…” Arianne processed the information, causing a total brain reboot. “You’ve been bringing me home, haven’t you?” He dipped his chin once, affirming the answer to her question. She punched his shoulder. “You jerk! Why did you do that? Why can’t you just let me be?”

“Because I love you.”

He said it so confidently, like it had been set in stone long ago, that she couldn’t quite believe him. “Right. How can that be true when you took Carrie away?” The pipes that had burst inside her when Carrie passed, miraculously still held water in them for her eyes to well up. Fury, her newest ally, aided her in blocking the coming deluge.

“I didn’t take her away, Ari.” Remorse filled Niko’s eyes, and despite herself, Arianne wanted to console him. “I don’t decide who goes or stays. I just escort their souls to be processed.”

“Processed?”

“I guess you can call it judgment or the afterlife. It’s above my pay grade to know what happens to a soul when I bring it to the Crossroads.”

“You didn’t kill her?”

The deliberate head shake confirmed the truth of his words. And his gaze, piercing yet tender, never wavered from her face.

Guilt followed Arianne’s understanding of Niko’s words. “Oh Niko, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to judge you.”

“Yet you did. But you didn’t know.” His hold tightened. “And I should have checked the Certificates before I enforced them.” The question on Arianne’s face had him explaining. “My Master, you know him as Death, signs what is called a Death Certificate. It’s indicated there whose time is up. As a Reaper, I enforce them.”

“That’s what you did with Carrie.”

“Yes.”

Arianne’s gaze traveled beyond Niko’s shoulder. A Honda wrapped around a tree came into view. “Oh God, was that…” She pointed at the car. “Was that supposed to hit me?”

Niko paled. His lower lip trembled.

“And you stopped it?”

He nodded.

Her jaw dropped. “Was I supposed to die?”

“I don’t know. But I feel like the answer to that question is most definitely yes.”

Before Arianne could ask her next question, a neighbor came running to them. “Is everybody okay?”

She took in where she stood. Apparently, while she and Niko had been speaking, half the neighborhood had gathered—men and women in various states of undress—robes and pajama bottoms everywhere. A few kept their distance, observers to the event that cut into the monotony of their lives. Others—emboldened by either courage or morbid curiosity—inched toward the wreck.

“We need to call an ambulance,” Niko said.

“They’re on their way,” said the man as he approached the car along with five others.

Arianne disentangled herself from Niko’s arms to follow, but she kept a hold on his hand, tugging him along. He was a security blanket that could whisk her away if anything earth shattering awaited her.

The man moved cautiously to the driver’s side. Smoke rose up from the car’s hood. He reached in and felt for a pulse on the driver who’d been slumped in the seat. “She’s still alive,” he said. “But I don’t think we should move her until the authorities get here.”

Arianne came closer and her world began to break, spreading around her feet in sharp shards. Goose bumps rose all over her arms and legs. The ever immaculate bob, now matted with blood, stuck to an oh-so-familiar face. A long gash ripped across her forehead. Her lips had turned blue.

Horrified, she folded herself into Niko’s arms. “I shouldn’t have outed her,” she whispered into his chest.