Ben turned to his side and propped his head up with his fist. “And you’re okay that he’s not human?”
“Does it matter?” She kept staring at the stars.
“He might be dangerous.”
“Not to me.”
“How sure are you?”
“Ninety percent.”
“I don’t like those odds.” He resettled onto his back. “But I won’t stop you.”
Arianne sat up to stare down at him. “You won’t?”
“Are you happy with him?”
“Deliriously. I never thought he’d show interest in me. And his kisses—”
“Whoa!” Ben held up his hand. “Again with the too-much-information. As long as you’re happy, I’m down with him being with you. But if he hurts you, I don’t care if he’s not human, I will go all
Arianne giggled. “I bet you will.”
“Thank you for being cool about Carrie and me.”
The contentment in his voice melted away any other concerns Arianne might have about their relationship. “Carrie deserves to be happy. And you are that for her, so I can’t complain.”
He looked her in the eye. “What are you going to do about Darla? Judging from her face and how fast she ran out of the memorial, she’s not over you.”
She groaned. “I should have known she’d be there. She’d already warned me in the library the other day.”
“She’s going to give Niko hell come Monday, you know that, right?”
“I’m dreading it.”
Chapter 17
DEATH HID HIS BEAUTY beneath the shadow of his massive cowl, Like his personal cave carved out of a pristine mountainside. He’d craved a distraction from work—a need that prompted him to leave the privacy of his office to make his rounds in the different dimensions that made up his domain, which everyone affectionately termed Crossroads, the place where souls met their fate. Death’s domain had no real name. It just
He’d visited the nursery first, filled with Caretakers tending to the Reapers reborn. He stood behind the protective glass wall that separated the babes from other parts of his domain. The room had evolved through the years. Now, it resembled a hospital nursery. He smiled at the infants, fed residual energy mixed with milk from bottles.
“Ah, to be young,” he exhaled. He thought of Janika and wished none of the babes snug in their cradles grew into someone like her. He had enough troubles.
Having had enough cute for one day, Death moved toward the processing plant. Whisps bobbed out of his way like buoys in the ocean. Minions of every shape and size, carrying reports from their respective makers, stepped aside and bowed. He stopped to chat with several Reapers from different parts of the world who’d completed escorting their charges. Death reminded some of an upcoming meeting and exchanged idle conversation with others. When he’d reached the plant—a massive steel warehouse—some time later, he spotted the Reaper he’d been eager to have a word with.
“It’s always good to see you, Nikolas,” he greeted, taking up a position beside the Reaper of Georgia as he led his souls into one of the processing chambers. A minion in Armani used a scanning gun to register each soul before he or she entered the room.
“Master.” Nikolas nodded once. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He’d moved out of the line of souls and dematerialized his scythe as a sign of respect.
“Come.” Death motioned to one corner of the plant. “We wouldn’t want to get in the way.”
Nikolas followed with his hands shoved inside his pants pockets. His features betrayed no emotion.
Death placed a hand on the young Reaper’s shoulder. “How are you, my boy?”
“Better.”
“And with Tomas watching you?”
“I don’t mind.”
“You don’t have to be so formal with me, Nikolas.” Death pursed his lips. “We’re not in a meeting or at my office. We just happened to bump into each other. Can’t I show my concern?”
“Of course, Master.” Nikolas softened his expression. “I was actually going to ask Tomas for some advice. But since, as you said, we’ve already run into one another—”
“I heard you had a run in with Janika,” Death interrupted him.
“Did she really threaten you?” Niko asked.
“Not in so many words. I think she just wants more attention. Greedy little girl.”
“I think she’s dangerous, Master.”
“You all are.” Death shrugged a shoulder. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. She won’t bother you again.”
Nikolas inclined his head in appreciation.
“How can I help you today?” Death asked gently. He smiled, even though he knew Nikolas couldn’t see the gesture through the gloom of his cowl.
The young Reaper appeared to consider his next words. His eyebrows bonded together, and Death imagined Nikolas rubbing his chin, even if the boy didn’t. But nonetheless, it tickled Death to see the image in his mind’s eye. He would have chuckled if the boy didn’t look so serious.
“If I were to have a human over in my domain…” he began, a grim note lacing every word. “What would happen?”
“Humans are not designed to withstand the energies that ebb and flow within our domains.” Death made a sweeping motion that encompassed the line of souls waiting to be processed. “A human entering a Reaper’s domain would be sucked drier than a car battery with the headlights left on.”
“I had no idea.”
“That’s because you’ve never asked before. In all the lives you’ve lived, Nikolas, this is the first time I’m hearing you considering bringing a human into your domain.” Death edged closer. “You’re changing, my child.”
Disbelief replaced Nikolas’s previous serious demeanor. “Master, I—”
“No, no. Please.” He held up a hand covered by the voluminous sleeve of his robe. “It’s all right to have humans over to your domain. I believe it’s part of maintaining our pretense of blending in. I’m surprised you hadn’t done it sooner.”
“So, I can have friends over,” Nikolas said, more surprised than curious. “But how do I prevent my domain from as you say ‘sucking them dry’?”
Death laughed, which had everyone in the plant staring in his direction. When he’d regained his composure, he waved. “Carry on.”
And like nothing had happened, work resumed.
“Nikolas—” Death draped an arm over the boy’s shoulder “—all you have to do is issue a formal invitation to anyone entering your domain. In that way, the energies residing there wouldn’t attack the intruder.”
“An invitation? Like in writing?”
“A verbal invite would suffice. Walk with me.” Death steered Nikolas out of the plant. “Think of it as giving someone the alarm codes to your house.”
“It’s really that simple?” Nikolas’s jaw dropped.
“Everything in life is simple, son. It only becomes complicated when you make it so.”
Death summoned Tomas after Nikolas left giddy—like a child during recess that had been given chocolate
