The Angel's Vow: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Series (Bloodcaster Chronicles Book 2)

by R. L. Perez

  I sighed. “I’m trying to access my magic. Just practicing.”

  “I told you, it doesn’t work the same way in this realm.”

  “That’s not exactly helpful.”

  Luke shrugged. “I’m not a Reaper. Otherwise I’d tell you what to do.”

  My brow furrowed. Even Reapers didn’t know what to do. Joey had said it was different for everyone.

  I had to figure it out on my own.

  For the first time, I gazed around, taking in my surroundings. The grass was freshly mowed. The sun hovered high in the sky.

  But there was nothing else around. No crowd. No parking lot. Nothing but a wide expanse of grass.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “This is the bridge between your magic.”

  “What does that mean?” I was getting tired of Luke’s less-than-helpful responses.

  “Think of it as a Venn Diagram. You’ve always had two forms of magic—your Nephilim magic and your warlock magic. This mental place you’re in is the space between them. The space where they overlap.”

  I stared at him. “Are you saying I used Nephilim magic when I time traveled?”

  Luke nodded. “All your magic is a part of you. Your Nephilim magic fueled you in ways you didn’t understand. It powered a portion of your Teleportation powers.”

  My head was reeling. “So . . . so if this place is the bridge between two sides of magic, why can’t I use it now?”

  “You can. This space hasn’t changed. But your magic has. You can’t access it by the thrill of the game anymore. You have to find a new access point.”

  A new trigger.

  “But . . . the only reason I’m here is because of the adrenaline,” I protested.

  Luke smiled and shook his head. “Think again. You’re here because this is your mental bridge. You’re here for a reason.”

  A reason. A biting retort rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I was so sick of being chosen. I was sick of my choices being made for me. Of these greater powers and callings that took hold of my life with no mercy.

  When did I get to decide my fate? My life?

  I sighed. These frustrating thoughts weren’t getting me anywhere. I relaxed my hands at my sides and took a steadying breath.

  With my Nephilim magic, adrenaline had been my trigger. What had changed? My magic, obviously. But what about my magic had changed? Why didn’t the same trigger work?

  Nephilim had different responsibilities than Reapers. Nephilim were free to roam the mortal realm. To make decisions that affected everyone—like Hector had. But Reapers were something . . . beyond. Something otherworldly. Their responsibilities weren’t just to the mortal realm, but to every realm.

  Distance. I needed to find distance. I thought of Ellis’s blank expression and how Mom explained some Reapers lost touch with humanity.

  It was because they distanced themselves from humanity.

  A knot of emotions rose in my chest, but I had to focus on this trail of thought before I lost it. I couldn’t stop. I was so close.

  “Distance,” I whispered. Once again, my gaze roved over the field, but I saw it with new eyes.

  No crowds. No opponents. Luke wasn’t wearing his gear. He was only here as my guide—not my teammate.

  In the heat of the game, when strategy took over, when I had the ball in my crosse, I developed a sort of tunnel vision. I only saw one thing: the goal. The path I had to take.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Distance.

  My mouth felt dry. I raised my crosse and surged forward, staring only at the goal before me. A faceless opponent appeared, but I didn’t look at him.

  I only saw the goal.

  The crosse felt sturdy in my hands. I sucked in deep breaths. Luke shouted my name behind me, but I didn’t listen.

  I lunged, swinging my crosse . . .

  “Vince!” a voice shouted.

  I blinked. Reality slammed into me with full force, making my head throb. Darkness clouded around me, and the smells of the field vanished. Luke was gone.

  Jocelyn sat in front of me, her eyes wide and her face pale. “What happened to you?” she breathed.

  My mouth opened and closed. Something heavy sank in my stomach. It didn’t work.

  “I—I‍—‍” I broke off and swallowed. “What did I do?”

  “You went into this sort of trance. Your eyes rolled back so they were all white. And you—you started twitching.” Fear shone in her eyes. “I was about to run and grab someone for help. I thought you were having a seizure.”

  Blood pounded in my ears. I still felt like I was on that field, my gaze focusing on the goal. I had felt so certain . . .

  Shaking my head, I flexed my fingers. Energy churned through me, violent and all-consuming. It demanded movement. I couldn’t sit still.

  “I—I have to‍—‍” I quickly stood up, turning away from Jocelyn and toward the exit.

  Gravity shifted around me. Weight pressed in on me, crushing my chest so I couldn’t breathe.

  A small pop echoed in my ears.

  My surroundings tilted. Ash filled the air. Deafening booms rattled the ground. My ears throbbed. My eyes stung from the particles in the air. I coughed, waving a hand in front of my face. An eerie red glow surrounded me, clouding my surroundings. I couldn’t see.

  Gradually, the glow faded, and I made out a figure sitting in front of me. Her head was propped against the wall behind her. Her face and shoulder were covered in blood.

  Ice filled my chest. It was Cora.

  She blinked up at me, her eyes widening. Her expression was dazed and weak. I’d never seen her like this before. The only time she’d been this weak was—

  I froze, slowly gazing around. Demons and casters battled. Explosions of black and blue magic burst in the air like fireworks.

  The Demon War. I’d time traveled. Again.

  My gaze snapped back to Cora. She stared at me, her face pale and her eyes unsteady. I took slow steps toward her, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Vince,” she whispered. Her voice was a low rasp. Darkness stirred in her eyes. As I stared at her, I saw the resignation in her face. The lack of fire and determination I always saw there.

  She was dying. And worse—she wanted to die. The emptiness in her gaze was her decision to give up.

  I wanted to rush and find my Mimic. To bring him back here before Cora gave up completely.

  But something inside me went perfectly still as I watched Cora. I knew my Mimic would return and heal Cora—because it had already happened.

  Now, I was here for a reason too.

  Cora was ready to die. But it wasn’t her time.

  I held her gaze and murmured, “Not yet, Cora.”

  Startled, she blinked at me again. A burst of clarity shone in her eyes.

  The air around me shifted again. I rose to my feet, my pulse thundering inside me as I Jumped again.

  I had no control over this. Gravity claimed me, dragging me downward. Shapes and colors swirled around me, making me sick.

  I slammed into solid ground, coughing and gasping for breath. Someone yelped, and I heard the scraping of furniture.

  The first thing I noticed was the bright light streaming in through the window. Which meant I wasn’t back in the tunnels.

  I’d time traveled again.

  Damn it all. I groaned and struggled to rise, but it was suddenly hard to breathe.

  “Vince?” called a voice.

  I stood, my legs trembling. My black wings were still outstretched behind me as I looked around. I knew this place. I’d been here once before—to say goodbye to Cora before I became a Reaper.

  A hard lump formed in my throat as I focused on the figure before me. Her piercing blue eyes. Her inky black hair, which was a bit shorter than when I’d last seen her. And her face, drained of color as she gaped at me in utter shock.

  “Cora,” I whispered.

  14

  Cora

  I
couldn’t breathe. Once again, here he was in my office, standing there as if it were the most normal thing ever.

  He looked different . . . but the same too. His magnificent black wings were stretched out behind him, almost taking up the whole space in the office. And his face was grim and closed off. Like he’d seen things. Experienced things he had to hide deep inside.

  I knew that feeling well.

  But . . . he didn’t have that long scar on his face. Which meant this Vince lived sometime between now and six months from now.

  “Are you”—I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly too dry to talk—“Is it really you? I mean‍—‍” I stopped again, closing my eyes. How was I supposed to ask if he was my Vince? If he was present-day Vince?

  “It’s me,” Vince said, his voice uncertain as he gazed around the room. Disbelief was etched in his face, and he breathed heavily. Voices echoed in the hallway, and Vince whirled around, his body tense as if expecting a fight.

  I rushed forward and closed the door. When I turned to face him, I sucked in a breath. He smelled the same, but a little different. Mint and soap and . . . the faintest whiff of woodsmoke. It made my head spin, reminding me of our time together last year.

  “I just,” I said, suddenly breathless. “I need to know . . . When are you from?”

  Vince blinked and looked at me, his expression dazed. “I have no idea. There’s . . . no way to measure time in the Astral Realm.”

  Astral Realm. So . . . not the Underworld?

  Lilith, I was so confused.

  But he probably was too.

  I cleared my throat and took a step away from him. “What do you remember? How much time do you think has passed?”

  Vince scratched his head, suddenly looking like the inquisitive student at high school again. “Uh, a few months maybe? Weeks? Hard to tell. It hasn’t been very long since . . . well . . .” He grimaced and gestured to his wings behind him.

  A few months. My insides turned numb. This was present-day Vince. This was my Vince.

  Holy Mother of Lilith. He was here.

  “When are you from?” Vince asked.

  I stared at him. “It’s been six months since you left.” My voice was barely more than a whisper.

  He gasped, the sound so faint I wouldn’t have heard it if I weren’t standing so close. His gray eyes grew distant as he concentrated on something I couldn’t see.

  “Why are you here, Vince?” I asked.

  He swallowed. “I—I don’t know.”

  Something hardened in my chest. His face was so lost, so confused . . . It was clear he’d arrived by accident.

  Why did that slash through my gut like a knife wound?

  Because I wanted him to find a way back to me.

  This had been unintentional.

  Vince ran a hand through his hair. It was cut shorter than I remembered, kept closer to his scalp than before when it’d hung just above his eyes. He exhaled through his lips. “And . . . this is the mortal realm?”

  I frowned. “Yeah. Last I checked.”

  He looked at me as if just noticing I was there. “Lilith, Cora. It’s really you.” He swept me into his arms, and I let out a startled yelp. His strong arms encircled me, crushing me against his chest. But it wasn’t unpleasant. His scent enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, burying my face in his shoulder.

  He released me, his eyes filled with fire and longing that made my stomach clench. His thumb grazed my cheek, my jaw, my lips. An involuntary shiver rippled over me, and I closed my eyes.

  “How—how are you?” he murmured.

  I inhaled and looked at him. “F-fine.”

  He smiled, and the sight stole my breath. “Stupid question, I know.” He blinked and looked around. “I—I need to find my dad. Make sure he’s okay.”

  “He’s fine,” I said immediately.

  Vince stilled.

  I waved a hand in the air. “I, uh, check in on him now and then. Though, it’s been a while since our last lunch.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling guilty as I remembered the mile-long to-do list I was drowning in and the responsibilities of the coven. Harvey needed a new Donor, and Wilson had a dispute with his neighbor I had to settle. New building contracts had come in that I needed to look over and sign, and Benny and I still hadn’t tracked down the bastard who was skimming money from us.

  The last time I’d seen José was over a month ago. He’d been more subdued than usual. I could tell the loss of his son was wearing on him. But he was optimistic. Still proud of Vince.

  “He got a job as a legal assistant,” I said. “He found an apartment near Glen Bridge. Nothing too fancy, but it suits him.”

  Emotion stirred in Vince’s eyes. “You—you’re keeping tabs on him?”

  “Yeah. I mean, nothing creepy, just—just to make sure he’s all right. That he’s safe.”

  I couldn’t read Vince’s expression. Was he mad? Had I violated his privacy? Did he want me to leave his dad alone?

  “Just say the word, and I’ll back off,” I said quickly. “I just figured‍—‍”

  He grabbed my waist, drawing me toward him before his lips covered mine. At first, his mouth was firm and urgent, desperate and hungry. Then, his movements slowed and became achingly gentle. Too gentle. I clung to his arms, my hands trembling as his lips searched mine. I leaned into him. His tongue brushed against mine, and a bolt of heat seared through my stomach.

  All the longing and restlessness that had built up in my chest after all these months was finally unleashed. An explosion of desire coursed through me, fierce and unyielding. I grabbed Vince’s collar and pulled him closer. My arms wound around him, and my fingers clutched at the back of his neck. The intensity of our kiss was so powerful that we staggered. My back slammed against the wall. The force only further inflamed me, and I gasped before his lips were on mine again. His hips ground into me, pinning me to the wall. Though there was no space between us, I wanted him closer.

  My fingers fumbled with the buckle of his jeans. A low groan built in his throat, and he grabbed my wrists, stopping me.

  I looked up at him, panting. His eyes were dark with need, his lips swollen and pink from our make-out session.

  I wanted to ask why he’d stopped me. Surely, he could feel this, this agonizing need building between us, uncontrollable and urgent. But the conflict in his face told me there was so much more than just our own feral desires.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed, my face burning. “This probably isn’t the best time for . . . I’m sorry.” I ran a hand across my forehead, trying to control my pulse and the desperate heat between my legs.

  Lilith, it had been a long time.

  “Cora, it’s‍—‍” Vince made a frustrated noise and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” He sighed. “I do. More than anything. But I don’t know why I’m here.”

  I forced myself to meet his gaze, to search his eyes. In his face, I saw confusion, doubt, and fear . . . and it sobered me. I had to remind myself this wasn’t some conjugal visit. He hadn’t meant to be here.

  He hadn’t meant to see me. It had just happened.

  I swallowed. “Where were you trying to go?”

  “I wasn’t trying to go anywhere. I was trying to access my Reaper magic.”

  A hoarse laugh bubbled in my throat, and I gestured to his wings. “Looks like it worked.”

  He shook his head. “It’s different from before. I had some kind of control the last time. But now, with this new magic, it feels like it’s controlling me. It’s terrifying.”

  I stared at him as memories stirred within me. Memories of when I first accessed my magic. First tested out potions from my blood.

  I knew the feeling of being overwhelmed by your own magic.

  “I don’t need an anchor this time,” Vince said.

  My eyes widened. That was big news. “So . . . you can just time travel anywhere? Anytime?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Nodding, I
dropped my gaze, unsure of what to say.

  “Cora.”

  I blinked and looked up at him. His gaze had softened. His eyes were so tender that warmth automatically filled my chest. Raising his hand, he trailed his thumb along my cheek, down to my chin, and finally to my lower lip. He gently pried my lips apart, and my heart fluttered madly.

  “For weeks, all I wanted was to find you,” he whispered. “I tried so hard to leave. To get back to you. To keep my promise.” He took a breath. “My magic works differently down there. It’s—it’s hard to explain.” Frustration stirred in his eyes once more.

  I placed my hands on his shoulders and forced him to meet my gaze. “Talk to me. We worked through this before, when you first time traveled. We can work through it again.”

  Half his mouth quirked up into a soft smile, which I returned.

  Suddenly, he winced, hissing in pain. Ducking his head, he let out a strangled growl. His hand raised to his forehead, and his arms were trembling.

  “What is it? What’s happening?” I touched his shoulders, his face, trying to figure out what was wrong. His face contorted in agony, the veins and tendons standing out on his neck.

  I had to do something. I remembered the vision of Vince’s face covered in blood as the black shadow consumed him. The image was burned into my memory, and my insides quivered with terror.

  In desperation, I summoned my magic and whispered,

  “Magic above and powers that be,

  Heal this man and set him free.

  Release him from the pain within,

  And free his mind from the prison therein.”

  My hands glowed purple, and Vince stiffened, his back arching and his eyes flying wide open. He sucked in a rattling breath as if he’d been holding it in. Then, his body slowly relaxed as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Color returned to his face, and he looked at me in shock.

  “You okay?” I whispered, my heart still thundering.

  “I—I’m not sure. My body, my mind . . . I couldn’t breathe. It’s like I wasn’t here. For a few seconds, I was . . . somewhere else.” His eyes darkened, and once again, he was that distant, closed-off dark angel. He wasn’t the kind, innocent Vince I’d first met.