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The door opened, startling the supervisor awake, and she looked up at the time. “Why are you late?”

Reaper set the slip down on the teacher’s desk. “At least I’m here.” Of all the empty seats, she took the one directly in front of me. There was no room to breathe.

The supervisor squinted her eyes at Reaper before reading her book again, her eyelids heavy with each page she turned. Reaper waited for the supervisor to drift off into her nap again before turning around in her seat.

“What do you want?” I snapped in a low voice.

“I’m bored,” she whined, tilting her head.

I leaned over my desk, closer to her. “You’re annoying.”

She reached her hand towards my hair and played with it, curling it in her fingers. “It’s soft.”

I looked down to her lips, probably softer, then back up to her eyes, teasing me. “Don’t touch me. ”

“I already am.” She let out a light laugh.

“You know,” I whispered. “As much as I like playing with you, all you have to do is ask.”

“Would you say yes?” she whispered.

“Hm…” I leaned back in my seat with a smirk. “Maybe.” Absolutely not. I took out my container, popping a pill in my mouth.

“What’s that for?” she asked me.

“Helps me tolerate you,” I replied coldly.

“You two!” the supervisor snapped at us. “One of you move to the other side of the classroom.”

Reaper didn't hesitate to stand up to move to the desk the supervisor pointed at. She took out a small compact mirror and her lipstick, reapplying it. I couldn’t help my stare as she ran it across her lips, staining it a dark red again.

The colour of blood. I locked eyes with her through the mirror and a light laugh escaped her before she put it away.

Shit, she caught me.

We weren’t allowed to do anything in detention unless it was schoolwork. I was doing maths first, the easiest subject for me. I didn’t have to use my brain as much–they were just numbers.

“Miss Vicary,” the supervisor called.

I turned towards Reaper, who had her head down in her arms, asleep.

The supervisor called her name again and when she didn’t move or answer, the teacher stood up, frustrated. “Sleeping is not allowed in detention, Miss Vicary.” She tapped her shoulder, but Reaper barely stirred. “Miss Vicary.”

Reaper lifted her head up, her brows furrowed and eyes squinted. “What?”

“You are not to sleep in detention.”

Reaper rubbed at her eyes and muttered. “Gods. ”

I felt a shift in the air and the supervisor stood frozen when she met her eyes. “Didn’t you need to use the bathroom?” Reaper asked her in a low voice.

The supervisor slowly nodded, her eyes wide and glazed over. “Yeah… Actually… I do…” She turned, robotically, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Reaper set her head back down and fell right back to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how to process that whole thing.

The supervisor didn’t come back until the end of detention, allowing us to leave. I followed behind Reaper to get out of the school.

“Stop stalking me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. There’s only one working exit at this hour,” I muttered.

Even though this school had the smallest number of students, the school wasted no expense on the building. It took about fifteen minutes to walk from one side of the building to the other and that wasn't counting the large space outside that was fenced off with large stone walls.

I never noticed it before, but Reaper had a slight limp when she walked. Was it recent or permanent? Finally, we exited the school, Leo and Sterling waiting for Reaper on their motorbikes.

After her first day being bombarded by the media, the twins started picking her up after school.

A few Kokkino clansmen stood guard throughout the street to prevent any of the media from even seeing the entrance.

This, of course, started rumours around school that she was involved with the clans, but no one knew she was the Grim Reaper.

They just assumed she had a relative in it.

Who would ever believe a young, small girl that looks like her would be involved in such violent acts?

“Silias isn’t happy you got detention,” Leo said in a low voice.

“He better get used to it,” she replied.

“Come on, Cel…” Then Leo muttered something to her I couldn’t hear .

“Vulture.” Sterling stopped me from getting past them. “I can’t imagine you’re in the debate club, so I assume you also got detention.”

I didn’t respond.

“Was it Cel’s fault?” The way he said it made me uncomfortable, as if he expected it to be her. She must get into trouble often. I looked at Reaper, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Unrelated.” I put my hands in my pockets. As much as I hated lying, I hated snitches more.

He nodded. “Let’s go. Cel, ride with Leo.”

She glanced at me before putting on a helmet and hopping on the back of Leo’s bike. They started up their bikes and rode away.

***

Hidden above Stygian clan territory, I crouched in the corner on a beam behind a pillar, listening to the conversation below.

The four leaders sat around the circular table, while their seconds and inner circle stood behind them, against the wall.

This wasn’t the first time I’d infiltrated one of their meetings, but it was the first time I’d seen Reaper join.

There were four Stygian clans, five really, but the fifth one didn't have a proper structure. Kokkino, Hriso, Mov, Prassino, and Galazio.

Galazio were, simply put, corrupt officers of the law who pledged their loyalty to Stygians.

They had a tattoo of the Stygian symbol inked in blue, hidden somewhere on their body so no one could see it.

Only the leaders of the Stygian clans knew who was a part of the clan as Galazio didn't have a leader and were only called upon when needed.

The meeting had already begun when I got inside. They were always spoken in Stygian and thankfully, I knew the language, having learnt it from Ender.

“…It must be time for Stygians to take back what's theirs.”

“Let me remind you, Silias.” Paxon's eyes glowed a bright red. “You are not a true Stygian. You do not get to make these large and dramatic decisions for us. ”

One of the four original surviving Demons from the Reckoning, Paxon was the leader of the Prassino clan.

They worked with computers and oversaw the monitoring of Stygians for threats and distributing messages between clans.

The Stygian symbol was tattooed behind their ear on their neck in green and all wore the same green leather bracelet.

“It is a bit soon,” Ignatius said, his head resting on the table, boredly playing with the straw in his drink.

The leader of the Hriso clan and was another surviving Demon from the Reckoning.

The politician puppet masters were the smallest Stygian clan.

They worked in politics, attempting to change the laws and the way people saw Stygians.

And they were the only clan without a tattoo signifying their clan, instead they used a simple gold ring on their middle finger.

“Soon?” Silias raised a brow. “Seventy years is soon?”

Silias led the Kokkino clan, in charge of the protection and security of Stygians. The tattoo behind their ear on their neck was red ink and were always seen wearing red on their heads, like hats, headbands, or hair ties.

Florica shook her head. “When will you two ever decide to finally fight back? The young ones are on edge. They want to fight.”

Currently led by Florica, Mov clan was the largest of the Stygian clans.

The previous leader, Zuriel, was a Demon, and she was his 'lover' or at least the person he trusted most to be loyal to his legacy.

Originally, they were to supply Stygians with items they needed, whether it be food or weapons.

Though, now they involve themselves in trafficking of weapons, humans, and drugs, simply for the money rather than the survival.

They had their tattoo inked in purple and wore purple shoes or coats.

“Perhaps your children want to fight, but Ignatius and I have seen firsthand what war does,” Paxon said. “It's nothing but blood, and our numbers are still small. ”

“No,” Silias argued. “Our numbers are fine, we are currently in control of the city—”

“With undisciplined clansmen that do what they want,” Paxon said. “And we are just barely in control. The Etherian clans are powerful too, and if we were to do anything, we would only add Angels into this fight.”

“Angels,” Silias spat. “They don't care about Soulesity anymore. If they did, do you think they would allow murders and suicides to happen every five minutes?” The statistics were rough estimates, but that was anyone's best guess. In all honesty, the numbers were probably higher.

Ignatius sat up, shaking his head. “You may have fought a number of people in your time, Silias, but Angels are a different breed. They are fast giants that can fly and if you tell them you're Stygian, they won't hesitate to slice your head off.”

“Then what? You want to stay in hiding forever?” Silias snarled.

“The young ones are strong,” Florica assured.

“The Angels are stronger,” Paxon argued.

“Ever since they killed every female Demon we have had to force ourselves to mix our blood with humans and our powers water down every generation and with every child.

The ones who absolutely do not stand a chance against them are Zuriel's children and humans who claim to be Stygian.”

“What is it then? What are you waiting for?” Silias urged.

Paxon exchanged a look with Ignatius. “Ignatius and I…” he started in a low voice. “We've been looking for Phobus.”

“Phobus?” Silias let out a loud laugh. “The God who did nothing but watch as your friends and family were slaughtered during the Reckoning?”

“That is not true!”

“You cannot laugh at what you did not experience, Silias.” Ignatius said in a calm tone. “Phobus may not have stood by us the entire time, but if he had, we could have won. ”

“And why didn't he?” Florica's eyes narrowed. “Because he doesn't care about any of you.”