their asses into oblivion.”
“Aren’t any of you the least bit worried about what Death might say to all this?” Lumi asked. “Sidyan here is practically pooping his pants over the repercussions.”
“Oh, you are one mean—” Sidyan tried to reply, narrowing his eyes at her, but Kelara cut him off.
“Yeah, we’re worried. But we’re even more worried about not doing the right thing.”
“Besides, we’re ancient. She won’t blast us to bits when this is all over.” Soul chuckled.
“Says the guy who was most determined to not come here and help,” Kelara replied, almost laughing.
Phantom snapped her fingers, demanding our attention. Her gesture caused Rudolph, Maya, and the other two dozen ghouls to become visible, each of them shaken up by what had just happened. “That being said, we’re all on the same page whether we like it or not. Even the ghouls,” she said, glancing at the quivering creatures. “You all need to relax. No one’s reaping you anytime soon, ghoulies. We need you.”
“I take it we have a plan, then?” I asked, surprised by the meekness in my own tone.
Night gave me a faint nod. “I might have an idea or two.”
The vagueness of that statement should’ve made me feel uneasy, yet I was anything but. For once, it felt like there was a way out of this—not just for Nethissis, but also for everyone else who risked suffering at the hands of the Darklings. We weren’t alone anymore.
And despite how Death might react to our association, I was confident we could pull it off. The Darklings had been playing fast and loose with the balance between life and death for too long. It was time to set the record straight. It was time for us Reapers to reassert ourselves.
I sure as hell had no intention of becoming a Darkling’s bitch ever again.
Nethissis
After a quick outing, Petra returned and prepared a few more messages to send to other Darklings across the continent. I wasn’t privy to their contents, but I assumed it had everything to do with what had happened at her mansion. She kept quiet for the most part, not saying much until Timotheus walked through the door—I’d thought they’d been together until earlier, but it seemed as though they’d parted ways at some point, reuniting here at the house. When he came in, she lit up like a Christmas tree.
“You’re here. Good!” she said.
“What’s going on?” Simmon asked, clearly out of the loop, much like Aganon, Tudyk, and Moore.
“I have to go meet with the Master of Darkness. I’ve been granted an audience,” Petra replied. “In my absence, you will all have things to do, worry not.”
“Whip, I have reinforced security around the house like you asked,” Timotheus said, standing close to the door. “Should the Reaper be foolish enough to try something, we’ll be ready.”
“I doubt it, considering I have his darling little ghost, but a little preparation never hurt anyone.” Petra scowled at me as if I’d just killed her favorite pet or something—that was ridiculous, since her favorite pet was literally looming and drooling all over me. What a Bounty Reaper Atlas must’ve been before she’d destroyed him and reduced him to this. Whenever I looked at the creature, I felt compelled to whisper, “I’m sorry,” hoping he might understand that I knew what he’d once been. “Either way, I trust Atlas will keep her in our possession.”
“Why aren’t we coming with you?” Simmon asked, hands nervously clasped behind his back.
Petra gave him a lazy smile. “Darling, you’re of more use to me here. One of you will go after Kalon once you hear from me. I told you I want him back, his hands cut off and whatnot. The same will go for Ansel. First, however, I must raise the issue of our outing with the Master.”
“What do we do, then? We can’t just sit around here,” Aganon replied. “I should at least go with you, sister. You could fare better with some protection.”
Petra laughed, perhaps a little too hard, doubling over in her mirth. Placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder, she took a moment to regain her composure. I had not seen her like this before, but I understood that this was the real Petra. A calculated lunatic.
“My dearest Aganon… I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself; otherwise, I wouldn’t be a Whip of the Darklings,” she said. A split second later, she slapped him so hard he landed on the floor, blood oozing from his cracked lip. “Perhaps focus more on what