Reaper Society

Chapter 19: Death, Thy Name is...

"I never could fool you, could I?" Nikki asks me softly, the shimmer of her eyes brightening a degree with the title.

"No." I agree icily, my eyes burning with the prickling warning of tears. "So I guess this is why you abandoned me." I can't help but add bitterly, gesturing around the training room, and doing my best to seem casual about it - even as I start to shake with rage. This is where my mother's been all this time? Not keeping me safe and guiding me like a parent should, but playing Reaper?

And then another figure materializes beside her and I feel something in my chest tighten. My lips press together in a tight line as the man in black reaches up and lowers his hood. He's dressed like Nikki, only where her shapeless cloak is blindingly white, his is an endless black. With the two here, the feeling of familiarity and power they're giving off has my knees locking...and something in my head unlocking.

"Hi, Nia." The man smiles at me warmly, his silvery-gold eyes dancing with good humor and joy. That smile...it's one I've seen in the mirror. I feel my eyes prickling with heat as they fill, blurring my sight for a second. I let out a huff and look up at the ceiling, pressing my lips tighter together to stop them from trembling as my heart starts to ache.

A million things slowly start clicking into place. Moments in my past where I felt like I was being watched. Times when I'd stumble across trouble, only to be a witness to a death. The shadowy forms of those dead rising up out of their bodies and gravitating towards me. Horrifying nights where I'd cry myself to sleep because I'd be so scared of the staring people who kept asking me to 'take them home'.

The foster families never understood. They never knew what was wrong with me. I began acting out when I was in school, trying to stay as far away from the homes I'd been sent to in order to avoid the see-through people who just wouldn't leave me alone. The fights, the vices...nothing helped. Nothing until a man in black visited me. This man. He made them go away, touched my forehead like Blair did the day I died. He made it so I couldn't see the dead anymore, so they'd leave me alone.

And then he made me forget.

Asher's presence behind me helps ease the edge off the bubbling anger and deep pian in me. The runes on my forehead are tingling, not hot or even warm, but buzzing from the inside, like they're bubbling off or something. I feel the two cloaked beings stare at the spot on my forehead with slowly widening eyes. The feeling intensifies, spreading lower to my shoulders and back where Asher is. The soul-stealer leans into me a little, just the tiniest of degrees that the Ancients don't seem to catch since they're too preoccupied by the now no-longer-tingling feeling on my forehead.

But I can feel Asher's breath warming a spot on the back of my head, the light brush of his body against mine, even through the clothes we're both wearing, sends waves of something new through me. It's not sexual though. Not in any way it had been before when he was near. It's suddenly different now, gentle and firm, like a full-body caress. It makes the rage in me go from bubbling to simmering.

"Well, then," Nikki breathes after a moment and turns to share the look with the man beside her. "I think we should bring her into the plan." She tells him. The man in black nods in agreement, reaching up to stroke the sides of his short beard, giving the classic 'thinking-man' expression. I fight not to roll my eyes, a wave of emotional exhaustion has me rocking back on my heels...and right up against Asher's side.

"Nia isn't trained yet." Asher bursts out in a low growl, that oddly melodic quality burning through the normal rasp of his voice. Viv glares at my mentor, all traces of warmth gone in his silvery-gold eyes. "I should go as well, to help guide her as you two have ordered me to." Asher adds, his voicing going back to sex-operator quality. My head whips to stare at him. Both my parents stare at Asher, probably trying to get him to retract his statement, but he doesn't.

"Alright, then." Nikki replies a little stiffly, her eyes moving suspiciously from me to my mentor and slowly back. "We must go greet the rest of those you will be working with. Viv will open a portal to the room once the location is secured." She adds, and literally disappears in the blink of an eye. Viv hesitates, the man who I instinctually know is my father, his own eyes skim over my face and I think he's about to tell me something, but then he too is gone.

My body slumps, shamelessly leaning back into Asher's side as I try to make the thoughts in my head slow a bit. A distractingly warm hand rubs up and down my right arm, tendrils of the familiar pleasure creeping along my skin and further relaxing my tense body. I practically melt against my mentor for a moment, letting this brief moment hold us in something I know won't last.

"So...you knew, didn't you?" I prompt after a second, straightening and rounding on my instructor with a glare I know has no heat behind it. Asher's watching me with his reddish-brown eyes steadily thrumming with the ember-like glow they normally have.

"Yes. They asked me, personally, to mentor you. And when I said no, they ordered me to." He replies calmly, the raspy roughness of his voice oddly soothing. I search his eyes, a little surprised to hear he didn't immediately jump at the chance to please his bosses. My parents.

"You called me a punishment when we first met." I mutter under my breath, the cogs in my head slowly grinding into a slower, processing, motion. Asher says nothing, just watches me, that red glow in his eyes brightening a little. I'm finding it easier to read him, I realize. "You didn't want to be a mentor." I go for the simplest conclusion, tilting my head to consider this, even as he remains silent. "Why did they...I felt like I could...feel them when they came through. Is that normal?" I decide to cut him a break and change the subject. Asher says nothing for a second, then finally lets out a sigh.

"You sensed their auras. It's something a few supernaturals can do, but all Reapers can feel auras because it makes our work easier." He admits and I relax, nodding slowly.

"So I'm not a complete freak, then." I conclude with a tiny smirk.

"No, you are." Asher replies cooly, not a hint of mirth in his voice or eyes as he says it. Just stating it like it's fact. "You're the only direct Descendant of Death in existence at the moment." He explains when all I do is stare at him.

"No, they're Ancients." I say slowly, feeling a chill in my veins, slowly spreading through me as his words hit home.

"Alone, each one is an Ancient. Together, they're Death." Asher explains slowly, watching my face closely, as if he expects me to break from this news. To be honest, I think I just might.

"I'm the daughter of Death." I repeat this newest truth to myself, blinking rapidly as my still-human-thinking mind struggles to grasp this.

I'm not some all-powerful being, though. How could I possibly be related to Death? I died! My nickname is Puppy-Chow for fuck's sake! Someone who's supposed to be the daughter of Death can't have a silly codename like that. I'm nothing special, I don't shoot lasers from my eyes or banish demon-possessed things even half as well as other Reapers. Shouldn't I be able to at least fight better if I were the daughter of Death?

But I can't deny how right the words had felt when they crossed my mind. How sure some part of me was.

I am the daughter of Death.

I feel my knees buckle as the overwhelming thoughts slam into me. Asher doesn't try to stop me as I sit on my knees for a few moments, staring at the dark-matted ground. My head's aching now, the throbbing pressure light but still uncomfortable enough to register as pain. It somehow reassures me. This isn't some nightmare I'm trapped in. No some stupid thing I can wake up from. This is my life. How the fuck is this my life?

Something shifts in the air, the scent of spices filling the air and strong waves of pressure start running along my skin. I look up to my right, seeing a foot-wide whirling thing steadily growing in mid-air.

"Come, Death is summoning us." Asher holds his hand out to me, offering to help me up. I stare at his hand for a second, then push up from the floor, ignoring it, but stepping close to him as the swirling, black smoke turns from a foot wide to a four-by-six-feet rounded arch. Together, my mentor and I walk through the cool-feeling darkness.