Reaper Society

Chapter 20: The Offer

We step through and are suddenly in another room. I look around the room, immediately seeing Asher and I are the last to arrive. There are five others in her aside from Death. Fuck that's weird to even think. I feel my eyes linger over my parents, Death, feeling their combined...auras...radiating from them and over me. I can't help but wonder if they're doing it on purpose, trying to seem strong an powerful in front of the other four Reapers in the room.

"I'm going to have to discipline you if you keep looking at them like that." Asher murmurs in my ear softly, so quietly that it's more like a whisper.

It doesn't make the sexiness of his voice any less potent - in fact - I can feel my whole body react to the lulling rasp of it as the sound seems to reverberate though my bones. My mouth pops open to reply, but my brain's not working anymore, instead flashing me gutter-thoughts about what his version of 'discipline' might include. I think I have a temporary moment of insanity where I can't even breathe, and then my mind comes back to reality and I turn to glare at my mentor.

Asher's smirking down at me, way too close for my body not to react, but the whiplash of my emotional response has returned with renewed vigor and I manage to maintain a firm control over my body. For the most part. I can't control things like my breathing or heart rate, but make sure my expression is a firm scowl.

"Do you have any more surprises for us, or is this it?" A man asks from the other side of the room. He's not dressed like any Reaper I've seen before, wearing a dark-wash hoodie and pants. There's not a visible tattoo on him, but a sort of arrogance in his voice and eyes. I immediately don't like him. He reminds me of the kinds of preppy asses from my high school years that flaunted their privilege.

"No, this is everyone for now." Nikki/mother replies calmly and gestures towards the table. "Let's all have a seat and begin discussing the plan as it stands." Death takes the two chairs in front of them, the three women - two Reapers and an old woman - sitting beside Viv while the other two take the chairs next to Nikki. I silently thank them, relieved I don't have to be anywhere near them at the moment, and settle into the chair next to the old woman while Asher takes the remaining seat next to me.

Suddenly, a dark orb pops into existence in the middle of the round table. It's one of the largest and most creepy things I've ever seen, filled with dark smoke that seems to be moving on its own within. Things start dancing in the shadows of it. Images. Under the table, I feel Asher place a hand on my thigh, nearly making me jump up from my chair in surprise. As it is, I barely restrain the urge to smack his hand away as my mother speaks.

"So, this is the plan," Nikki begins and explains 'the plan'. I stare at the sphere as it follows along with the narrative she's giving, my headache coming back with a vengeance...until Asher starts stroking my thigh. It should be more sexual than it feels, but the gentle pressure and movement of his hand seems to keep the majority of my headache from destroying what's left of my sanity.

Eventually, I can't ignore the pleasurable tingles his touch brings, and grab his hand as it climbs up my thigh. Nikki and Viv are taking turns explaining something, but I'm not really listening anymore, having lost them when they started talking about 'casting'. Everyone else seems completely focused on their explanation, except for my mentor. Asher's now playing with my fingers, tracing hot lines into my palm and all but massaging the muscles of my scarred-up hands. And, fuck, it feels amazing.

Prickles of feeling sting along my nerve endings, followed quickly by pleasure in the most confusingly erotic way. As soon as the flickering images fall away from the smoky sphere, Asher disentangles his hand from mine, leaving residual tingles dancing along my skin. I instinctively flex it, frowning as I realize it feels almost...normal. I curl it closed, then open, over and over until the shock wears off.