Kate Evangelista - Reaping Me Softly

BATTLE ZONE

NIKO COULDN’T HOLD JANIKA in place any longer. Not that he needed to be reminded of his impending death by letting her go. He concentrated on funneling as much energy from the souls in his basement as he dared for what he planned. He severed the hold he had on her. She laughed like a maniac, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were as black as a moonless night with a yellow slit running down the middle where the pupil should be. Niko knew the moment he let go he’d be in trouble. He willingly made that choice.

“You actually thought you could hold me?” She continued to laugh—a cackle that reminded him of a bird in pain.

The advantage Niko had of significantly reducing Janika’s powers because they battled in his domain dwindled. He wondered if adding lightning and thunder in the background as a counterpoint to her laughter would annoy her the way the sound of her voice scratched at his eardrums. It would certainly drown her out. But as tempting as pissing Janika off was, he couldn’t afford to waste any of his energy.

Master, the souls, Sickleton spoke in Niko’s mind. The Caretaker had been in contact with him upon entering the In Between.

He’d asked Sickleton to send the minions out to enforce as many Certificates as they possibly could and bring the souls into his basement. He needed the insurance. The energy they provided him now was invaluable. He gambled his life on slowing Janika down. His own death meant nothing as long as he could buy Arianne some time. She’d die, he knew that much. But at least she could spend her final moments with her family and friends. His sacrifice seemed so small compared to what she had given him.

I am aware, Niko winced at the effort of multitasking. Is she safe?

Yes. Arianne has made it to her room, according to Rome and Paris.

Niko suppressed a sigh of relief from the fear that Janika would notice what he’d been doing. She’d begun her advance again, scythe slashing inches from the ground. He jumped away each time. The staff of his scythe served as a shield for the debris that Janika hurled at him in conjunction with her attack.

Good, he continued his conversation with Sickleton. I thought I sent her somewhere else by accident.

I must say that I disagree with what you are about to do, Master.

It is not for you to care, Sickleton. Niko summoned another thunderbolt and aimed it at Janika. He panted, attempting to regain his elusive breaths. I can’t allow Janika to get to her.

What about the other enforcers Death will send after her? When you die here, who will protect her?

He blocked Janika’s roundhouse kick using the blade of his scythe and countered with a punch to her solar plexus. She doubled back. I can’t focus on that right now, Caretaker.

Sickleton’s presence in his mind receded. Niko ignored the guilt that pretzeled his gut and returned his attention to siphoning energy from the souls and keeping Janika occupied. His heart fell when he realized what he suddenly faced.

Janika stopped fighting. She’d released her scythe. It floated in front of her, a guardian to its master. She spread her arms wide and tilted her face up. Her lips moved rapidly, murmuring in a language that sent chills like an army of spiders down Niko’s spine.

He swallowed and redoubled his efforts at infusing residual energy into his body. At seventy-five percent capacity, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed more. According to his calculations, he needed a hundred and fifty—enough for an overload. The wound Janika had inflicted in his abdomen had healed, but it still left him weaker that he should have felt. He suspected poison, injected through her nails. She wasn’t above playing dirty.

The clouds parted like the Red Sea and beams of light streamed down, igniting the blood lake. A rending, like paper being shredded, pierced Niko’s ears. In seconds, the minion Janika summoned would appear. The top five had enough power to create creatures of unimaginable strength. Ones they used for protection and combat. Niko had attempted to birth one of his own once, but the act of summoning alone had drained him to the point of fading. His weakness frustrated him, but he had to put away his thoughts of inadequacy. He had bigger things to deal with—especially if the monstrosity Janika had created made it all the way into his In Between.

The tips of armored feet had begun to show at the center of the rip Janika had made in the sky. Niko’s heart pumped so hard, it hurt. He severed his link with the souls and clamped his hands together. Not enough. He hadn’t reached his target goal, but it would have to do. If only to damage her enough that she would have to take the time to heal herself. He gathered the energy between his palms and parted them as the sphere he’d created expanded.

Janika opened her eyes, her summoning halted. The descent of her minion ceased. “Nikolas!” she screeched. “How dare you try that on me?”

“Only because I think you’re special.” Niko sneered.

“Don’t be a fool!”

A vortex opened within the ball of energy he accumulated. It sucked in everything in its path, including Janika. Despite her efforts to stand her ground, the force pulling her forward triumphed. She screamed when she finally lost her footing, grabbing at her scythe, but it was too late. The hole swallowed her like quicksand.

An explosion occurred, engulfing Niko in searing light and blinding heat.

Sizzling pain woke Niko from the deepest slumber he’d ever experienced. He gasped like a swimmer surfacing from the water. His heart stuttered then restarted with such ferocity, it tripled his current agony. The scent of burning meat choked him. His vision blurred. The tears that escaped his ducts carved a path down his face like acid on skin.

“I’ve seen burnt meat look better than you do right now,” someone with a heavy Texan drawl said.

Niko made the mistake of swallowing. The knives lining his throat rubbed against each other. He’d rather have a femur shattered with a hammer. He croaked his response.

“What was that?” The tall Reaper bent over Niko, shielding him from the too hot sun.

“Trah…viiss.” His voice came out hoarse, his breathing labored. A prominent gurgle bubbled from his lungs, like he drowned from the inside. “I’m…stt…ill…” He made the mistake of swallowing again. A keening cry left his lips.

“Barely.” Travis squeezed Niko’s shoulder, producing a sickening squelch, like a rag being rung dry.

Niko’s vision tunneled, the feeling of fainting edging closer.

Travis pulled his hand away as if he’d been bitten. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking there.”

“Jah…nee…kah?”

“Worse than you, brother.”

“Goh…ood.” He sighed and closed his eyes.

The next time Niko regained consciousness, he found himself strapped to a board by his wrists and ankles. His makeshift bed floated vertically several inches off the ground. He looked up, but the ceiling seemed an endless black void. He only ached now, even if he still smelled like a grill after the steaks had been removed. From what he could see of himself, most of his body, from his arms and chest, down to the flesh exposed by his tattered jeans, had between second and third degree burns. His back felt molded to the wood supporting him, like the skin had grafted itself onto its surface. Why he wasn’t delirious with pain escaped his considerable reasoning skills. Someone had left him shirtless and barefoot. Not that he needed clothes in his current situation.