by R. L. Perez
The Angel's Vow
Bloodcaster Chronicles, Book Two
R.L. Perez
Willow Haven Press
THE ANGEL'S VOW
Copyright © 2021 R.L. Perez
All rights reserved.
Published by Willow Haven Press 2021
United States of America
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
Cover Art by Blue Raven Book Covers
www.rlperez.com
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also By R.L. Perez
For Bill and Janet, and the hope you have always inspired in me.
1
Vince
Nausea was the first symptom of losing my Nephilim magic. Followed swiftly by vertigo. The spinning and swaying. The complete lack of balance and gravity.
For days, I lay on what felt like a sturdy cot, surrounded by darkness and shadows. I was so ill I could barely make out where I was. From what I could tell, we were underground. I never saw the sun.
Mom was patient with me. Her steady blue eyes often watched me with an otherworldly insight as if she saw something I couldn’t. It unsettled me.
Or maybe it was just being around her again. It felt surreal. To go from having a dead mother to sharing the same air with her again was almost too much.
Mom sat by me even as I puked my guts out. And when I shivered, she layered quilts on top of me, tucking me in like I was a child again. Every move I made, she was there. It was almost like she was making up for lost time.
When the sickness finally faded, I moaned, “Why is this happening to me?”
Mom stroked the damp hair out of my eyes. “Your body is undergoing a huge change. It’s just adjusting to it.”
“B-but I still have my warlock magic, right?” I asked.
Mom didn’t answer right away, which only made me panic. I searched inward for the familiar crackly presence of my Teleportation abilities, but I felt nothing. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was sick or because I’d lost my magic.
“It's not that simple,” Mom finally said. “Things work . . . differently down here.”
“The Underworld?”
Again, Mom hesitated. I wished she would stop doing that.
“Kind of,” she said, her eyes guarded. “We exist in what’s called the Astral Realm. The space between worlds.”
I merely blinked at her.
“Our magic is now tethered to the Underworld, so we have to stay close. But because we aren’t dead, we can’t exactly live in the Underworld. It would upset the balance between the spirits beyond.”
I gazed at the ceiling as my head spun. My stomach contracted, threatening to heave again. But then the feeling faded. As I squinted, I made out a dark spherical dome built into the ceiling.
“What does that have to do with my warlock magic?” I asked.
“It doesn’t function in the same way here. The forces that power your magic are completely different. Time is different, the air is different, even the food is different. It’s almost like you’re living on a new planet. Your body—and your magic—have to adjust.”
A new planet. Though the idea made my mind quiver, it didn’t seem that far-fetched, given everything I’d seen: time travel, people in two places at once, friends living inside my head . . .
My thoughts soured as I thought of Luke, my best friend. We’d known each other for years, but he’d kept his magic a secret, making me believe he was a clueless mortal.
It didn’t matter. Now that I lived in this weird Astral Realm, I would probably never see him again.
Or Cora.
My stomach tightened for a different reason as I remembered our goodbye kiss. And how desperately I’d wanted to stay with her.
But she had responsibilities to her demon coven. And I had to live here as a Reaper because I’d refused to join the Nephilim. I couldn’t be a part of the clan. Not after Hector’s corruption. Hector had vanished, but the clan leaders would just follow in his footsteps.
Even though all I wanted to do was see Cora, I could never live with myself if I pledged fealty to the corrupt Nephilim clan.
“What exactly does it mean to be a Reaper?” I asked, shifting my gaze to Mom. Thinking of Cora was too painful right now. The wound was still fresh.
Mom pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing. The faint scar above her eyebrow tightened from the motion, and I wondered for the millionth time how she’d gotten it. She was still my mother—she smelled and sounded the same—but so much time had passed, it almost made us strangers.
“I can’t answer everything for you now, Vince,” Mom said. “It’s a lot to take in. One step at a time, okay? For now, let’s digest the fact that you live in another realm and your body needs to adapt.”
I nodded, but something snagged my thoughts. My head turned to face Mom. “You said time is different. What did you mean by that?”
Mom sighed, her eyes sparking with part frustration, part amusement. “Time passes differently here.”
I swallowed. “How differently?”
“I’m not sure. We don’t travel to the mortal realm often. But it’s much slower down here.”
We don’t travel to the mortal realm often. My mouth felt dry as I turned the words over in my head. She hadn’t said we never go there. Just not often.
Which meant I could go back. I could see Cora.
“Vince,” Mom said. The warning in her tone reminded me of the days when she caught me doing something I shouldn’t—like digging into her stash of chocolates in the pantry.
My eyes snapped back to her. “What?”
“You’re thinking too much right now. You need to relax.”
My racing heart made me feel nauseous again, so I changed the subject. “Where’s Jocelyn?”
“She’s fine. She’s sick, like you. Unlike you, she’s actually resting like she’s supposed to.” Mom widened her eyes meaningfully.
I exhaled, my
head throbbing as I fixed my gaze on the strange spherical ceiling again. I wished Jocelyn were here. She had recently become a Reaper, like me. It would’ve been a relief to talk to someone who understood how confusing and disorienting this all was. Having Mom here was a comfort and I wouldn’t trade it for anything . . . but it was overwhelming. She was so different. And she knew so much more than I did.
I didn’t know how to act around her. How to think. Having her here made me circle through dozens of questions about where she’d been. If she could go to the mortal realm, why hadn’t she come to see Dad and me? Why couldn’t we go back to the mortal realm permanently? What powers did a Reaper actually have?
I squashed these questions down as the ache in my head intensified. I closed my eyes, grimacing against the pain.
Mom pressed a cool washcloth against my forehead. “Maybe you need a distraction. Tell me about your life. Tell me about . . . about your dad.” Her voice cracked, and I opened my eyes to look at her. Her eyes were tight, but her face remained composed. I could tell she was in pain, but she was trying to mask it.
As I watched her, I wondered how long she’d been dying to ask me about Dad. How many hours had she sat with me while I’d been sick? She hadn’t said a word about him.
But I saw the curiosity and desperation sparkling in her eyes. She needed to know.
“He’s—he’s good,” I said in a strained voice. “Well, sort of. Actually, I . . . I don’t know how he is.” My heart twisted. I’d never been away from my dad before. We’d always been together.
Now, he was on his own. No job. No magic. No one to protect him.
My throat felt tight, and I couldn’t speak.
Mom pressed her hand against mine. “It’s okay, Vince.”
I shook my head. “No, it isn’t. Maybe—maybe I should’ve stayed with him. If I’d pledged, maybe we could’ve fixed things with the clan, and—” I stopped, realizing how pitiful my words sounded. There was no fixing what Hector had done. He’d wanted to isolate our Nephilim clan from the world in order to “preserve” our light magic from being tainted by others.
I couldn’t live in a place like that. And neither could Dad.
“He doesn’t blame you,” Mom said quietly. “I know that much. He trusts your decisions, Vince. He trusts you.”
My eyes fixed on her. Anguish swirled in her expression. She knew exactly how it felt to be torn away from her family.
“Why didn’t you come back?” I whispered.
Mom blinked. “What?”
I hadn’t meant to ask it. The words just spilled out before I could stop them. But now that I’d said it, the question burned within me. I had to know. “You said you don’t go to the mortal realm often. But—but you do sometimes?”
Mom stared at me, her gaze so distant I felt like she was looking right through me. “When Reapers—when we travel to other realms, our magic calls us back here. The separation is . . . excruciating.”
“And you didn’t think the pain was worth it.” My words sounded bitter.
Mom’s eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. “Vince, no. It isn’t that. I’ve only been to the mortal realm twice since I became a Reaper. And each time was dire. I only travel there for extreme magical emergencies. If I’d been delayed in any way, the repercussions would’ve been devastating. I—I couldn’t allow myself to be selfish like that when lives were at stake.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and she swallowed. “I tried, though.” Her voice broke, and her face crumpled as tears streamed down her face. “I tried using my Nephilim powers the first time I went back. I tried getting back to you. It—it didn’t work. And I was in so much pain that someone had to come fetch me and bring me back. I couldn’t get back on my own.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Vince. I never wanted to abandon you.”
The tightness in my chest loosened at the sight of her grief-stricken face. I couldn’t be angry with her. None of this was her fault.
It was Hector’s. And instead of tracking him down, I was stuck here.
My nostrils flared, and with the blazing anger inside me came another onslaught of nausea. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, waiting for it to pass. In a tight voice, I asked, “What . . . repercussions?” When Mom frowned at me, I added, “You said . . . devastating repercussions.”
“Oh.” She hesitated. “It’s Reaper responsibilities. You’ll learn soon enough.”
Her constant hedging only made me more nervous. I was almost certain I would feel better if she just told me instead of making me fret about it.
“How many Reapers are there?” I asked. Surely, she could answer that question.
“Oh, hundreds. But we don’t all stay in the same place. Some are here in the Astral Realm. Others are in the Underworld as Soul Reapers.”
“Soul Reapers?” My brow furrowed.
“Much more complicated than normal Reapers. But don’t worry, you don’t have to deal with that.”
“I thought you said only dead people could live in the Underworld.”
“Soul Reapers are dead.”
What the hell? My head was spinning again. “What determines where the Reapers go? Why am I here instead of the Underworld?”
“The strength of your Nephilim powers determines where you go. If you’re here in the Astral Realm, it’s because your magic pulled you here. This is where it’s been summoned.”
For some reason, a chill swept up my spine at her words. “Summoned by whom?”
“Not who—what. This realm has a life force of its own. Like I said before, magic works differently down here. It’s almost like it’s alive. It must be nurtured in order to grow and thrive. When we travel to other realms, our magic turns to a sickness because it knows it doesn’t belong there. If you’re here, it means your magic is most compatible with this realm.”
“Is it?” I choked out a laugh. “Because my vomiting might say otherwise.”
Mom offered a wry smile. “It’s normal, I promise. It’s just the shock of being in a new environment.”
I grunted as I finally tried sitting up. My head still pulsed with agony, but my nausea was gone. I exhaled in relief. Mom pressed a hand to my shoulder, her brows knitting together.
“I’m fine,” I said. Blinking away the fogginess in my brain, I squinted at my surroundings. It wasn’t just the ceiling that was spherical—it was the entire room. It looked like we were inside a giant metal ball. “What is this place?”
“Tunnels,” Mom said with a smile.
“Where did they come from?” I gazed at the perfectly sculpted walls that gleamed from the few lanterns surrounding us. Another cot sat opposite mine, which my mom was sitting on. Had she slept here with me? The thought made me feel warm and uneasy all at once.
“The tunnels have been here for ages as a go-between for the different realms. We speculate the first Reapers built them for protection.”
My eyes widened. “Protection from what?” What else lived in this realm besides us?
Mom’s mouth clamped shut, her eyes guarded again. She’d shut down. I knew she wouldn’t say any more.
I opened my mouth to insist she tell me, to say I wasn’t a child who needed to be coddled, when a shrill scream echoed from outside the tunnel. The sound rang against my ears, making my skin crawl.
I stiffened. “What was that?”
Mom immediately stood and strode toward the door. Before she got to it, it swung open, and a woman with gray hair and pale blue eyes rushed in. Her inky black wings fanned out behind her, and dark feathers floated in her wake. For a moment, I was struck by the magnificence of her wings. I still wasn’t used to seeing dark wings.
“What happened?” Mom asked, her tone ringing with authority.
“We’ve got another one,” the woman said breathlessly. “You need to come quick.”
Mom glanced at me.
“Another what?” I demanded, rising to my feet. My legs wobbled, but, thankfully, I didn’t fall over. I pressed a hand again
st the cool metal wall to steady myself. “Mom, just tell me. What the hell’s going on?”
Mom bristled—whether from me swearing or the way I challenged her, I couldn’t tell. She lifted her chin, her eyes glinting. “Another magical aura has been stolen.”
2
Cora
I really just wanted to kill someone. Life had been so much simpler when that was my only goal.
Instead, I sat behind a desk with a stack of papers so high I could barely see over it. I was drowning in bills and notices and contracts. So many papers I felt like my eyes were bleeding. When I closed them, I just saw printed words blurring together.
Kill me now.
The door to my office opened. Ordinarily I would welcome the distraction, but these days, I feared it would mean something else needed my attention.
I wanted to sleep. I wanted to hunt. I hadn’t killed someone in months, and it was making me restless.
Rubbing my eyes, I groaned, “What now?”
“Silas is here to see you,” Benny hedged. I’d known it was him even before hearing his voice. He was the only one who had the gall to enter without knocking.
“Again?” I dropped my arms on the desk with a loud thump.
Benny shrugged. “He wants to renegotiate the coven’s contract with his pack. He thinks you’re trying to cheat him.”
I gritted my teeth, my fingers curling into fists. “I’m not. That’s all we have to offer.”
“I know. But he doesn’t believe that.”
I sighed. “Can’t you talk to him? Werewolf to werewolf?”
“I tried. He won’t answer to me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you think I do nothing here?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
“I am trying to fend off the wolves for you, Cora. Both literally and figuratively. But with a new coven leader, it’s like a drop of blood in shark-infested waters. They’re circling. Waiting for you to screw up.”
And I already had. Plenty of times. Riots happened every other night in Hinport. Coven leaders made offers I rejected, and they retaliated by killing one of my men. We were one gunshot away from a civil war. And I’d only been coven leader for six months.
