“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.
The room, if it could be called that, didn’t have walls. It had a cobblestone floor, but nothing else. Not even a door. And despite not having a light source, he could see as if the space had lit lamps scattered everywhere.
While he awaited his fate, Niko attempted to contact Sickleton.
Silence, like a frigid lover, greeted him.
He couldn’t tell if Sickleton ignored him or if something blocked his attempts to communicate telepathically. Eventually, his thoughts wondered to Arianne. Worry for her safety alternated with remorse at having deceived her. He never planned to live beyond Janika’s attack. And now, if he could only find a way out, his first order of business would be to find and protect Arianne.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, Niko attempted to struggle against his restraints, escape foremost on his mind. He gritted his teeth as he left most of his back skin on the board to further examine the cuffs on his wrists. They didn’t seem to have a locking mechanism, just a solid band of metal. He’d tried to teleport without any success. Whatever blocked him from communicating with others seemed to have bound his powers as well. He didn’t go into the Fade, so he must have some residual energy left.
“I do hate seeing you this way,” Death said as he materialized into the room, gliding to a stop a meter away from Niko. His robes flowed around him like the fabric had a life of its own.
“I assume you sent Janika as the first enforcer?” Niko didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but he couldn’t help himself. Disrespecting his master meant pain. Lots of it.
“I didn’t think you’d go that far, to be honest.” Death snapped his fingers, and Niko’s seared flesh healed instantaneously.
Niko breathed a great sigh, like he’d taken a sip of cold water after returning from the desert. “Thank you, Master.”
“Do not thank me, child.” Death sighed as if he wanted to be elsewhere. “You have defied my orders. Why?”
“I can’t bear to see her die,” he said without thinking about the consequences.
“I don’t take kindly to insubordination.”
“I love her, Master.”
Despite the knot on his brow, Death still looked devastating. “What does love have to do with it?”
“Everything.”
Death’s eyes widened. “I thought she’d make you a good consort for this life. I thought it would do you good to have a lover. Hell, I even thought it was romantic.” He massaged his forehead. “But I didn’t expect you to defy me. For a
Niko swallowed. “Then why are you keeping me alive?”
“Because I wanted to find out if you’d see reason. Reconsider the importance of your duties. Know that Reapers who’ve taken on consorts had to reap those souls too.”
“Better kill me then.” Niko met his master’s pleading stare with a serious one of his own. “I will not enforce that Certificate on Arianne.”
“Then you have forced me to take more drastic measures.” Death glanced behind him and Travis popped into the room with a long table filled from one end to the other with sharp objects and various torture paraphernalia. Knives so sharp, the edges of their blades gleamed. Corkscrews of varying sizes. Hammers with spikes. Nails. Pikes. Scissors.
As Travis picked up a silver spike the length of his arm, Niko imagined the first time Arianne had smiled at him.
Chapter 24
ARIANNE HAD TO BLINK SEVERAL TIMES before she believed she’d been returned to her room. What convinced her were the contents of her desk that had been left untouched for nearly a month—her notes from school scattered about on its surface and pens half in and half out of their tipped over holder. Those picture frames holding painful memories rested face down.
Her window remained shut tight, keeping in the musty smell the space had developed. The drapes sported a coat of light dust. Her sheets: old and wrinkled. Discarded clothes littered the carpeted floor. Her closet doors were left open showcasing clean clothes that were undecided if they wanted to stay on their hangers or not. The periwinkle-painted walls enclosed a time capsule of sorts—neglected and forgotten. It looked more abandoned than lived in.
The last place she wanted to be was in her room.
She could pull out her hair for what Niko did. His selfishness knew no bounds. But instead of losing herself to panic for his safety, she hopped off her bed and kicked a corner of it. He’d tricked her, only planning to have her there with him until the very end. She saw it in his eyes as he shielded them with heavy lids: death.
“Idiot!” she said through her teeth. She opened and closed her hands, her palms moist. Worry and fear and frustration had her heading for the door and down the stairs. She’d barely made it to the front door when her father spoke.
“Ari? You’re back?” His voice still sounded heartsick.
Arianne took a slow breath in and out and turned to face her father. He sat at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of milk. “Where’s Mom?”
“Asleep.”
The way he said it made Arianne’s heart ache. She knew her mother had been spending more time in bed than out of it since the funeral. An orange bottle containing tiny pills stood vigil on her bedside table, next to a glass of water always half empty. Arianne had brought her mother soup some days, but the disheveled mess hidden beneath a mound of sheets and pillows looked less and less like the woman she once was proud to call “Mother.”
“And you?” Arianne’s voice broke.
He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Where are you off to? It’s the middle of the night.”
Unzipping and zipping the hoodie she wore, Arianne focused her gaze on her scuffed sneakers. “I need to go see Ben.”
“Ari.”
“Sorry, Dad.” She quivered. “I just need to go.”
Without waiting for her father to respond, Arianne opened the door behind her and backed out of the house. She hated feeling uncertainty, especially where her parents were concerned. She had a sinking suspicion this would be the last time she’d see her father.
He personified the image of a tired and hunched over man with bags under his eyes and hair slowly surrendering to gray. It wasn’t what Arianne wanted, but she was running out of time.
Arianne swung her leg over Ben’s windowsill and slid into his room. “Ben! You have to wake…” Her words
