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

by R. L. Perez

  “I should just kill everyone,” I muttered, letting my head drop on the desk. “One of my elixirs is rumored to have the power of an atomic bomb. We could just wipe out the city.”

  Benny offered a wry smile. “More would come. You know that.”

  I did know that. Half our problems were because new demon covens had come to town, hoping to take advantage of an inexperienced leader like me.

  I was a killer. Not a negotiator or a liaison or a politician. The few demons who had sworn loyalty to me were now wishing they hadn’t.

  Except, it seemed, for Benny.

  “You want my advice?” Benny asked, crossing his arms and leveling a hard stare at me.

  I slowly lifted my head to look at him, though all I wanted to do was pass out on the desk. “If I say no, will you leave?”

  Benny ignored me. “You’re the Blade of Hinport. You used to be the most feared person in the city.”

  “I know that,” I snapped.

  “Be that person now, Cora. These demons are walking all over you because they don’t respect you. You need to demand that respect.”

  I frowned. “When I was an assassin, I demanded respect by killing people. Is this your way of encouraging me to go forward with my atomic bomb plan?”

  “You demanded respect by setting an example. After your first few kills, everyone knew who you were and they knew not to cross you.”

  I stared vacantly at the open door behind him. Voices echoed in the hall. Phones rang nonstop. I’d hired several secretaries, but it was never enough.

  These past months of toeing the line between killer and diplomat were exhausting. The problem with sitting on the fence was that the demons didn’t respect me because they didn’t see enough of either side of me.

  Wistfully, I remembered the days when I would walk the streets of Hinport and people would dive out of my way, eager to let me pass freely. They avoided direct eye contact because they didn’t want to challenge me.

  Lilith, those were the days.

  Resolve hardened in my chest, and I stood. My legs ached from being cramped behind a desk for so long, and my fingers were throbbing from papercuts. But a familiar fire surged within me, one that had been smothered for too long.

  I strode past Benny and into the hallway, ignoring people who called out to me or asked me questions. My steps were forceful. Motivated.

  No one would stop me.

  I reached the lobby where Silas, the gray-haired werewolf alpha, sat waiting for me. His large nose looked even bigger with his nostrils flared in irritation. He glanced up when I approached, his yellow eyes gleaming.

  “About time,” he snarled. “You think you can weasel your way out of‍—‍”

  I cut off his words by punching him in the throat. He made a hoarse gurgling sound and stumbled backward so violently he hit the wall and a picture frame shattered. I drew my blade and held it up to his throat, pinning him against the wall. His eyes widened in fear, his breathing sharp and ragged.

  “I made you an offer, you dog,” I spat. “If you want to renegotiate, you talk to Benny. If that’s not good enough for you, then I’ll let my knife do the talking.” I pressed the blade into his neck, and a bead of blood trickled from his skin. “Understood?” I cocked my head at him, narrowing my eyes.

  To his credit, Silas gritted his teeth. His trembling betrayed his fear, but he had the gall to look me in the eye and say, “You’re making a huge mistake. Don’t you know how powerful I am?”

  “To me, you’re just another demon.”

  Silas’s nostrils flared. “I’m the most powerful alpha on the east coast. You think you can threaten me like I’m one of your goons?”

  I leaned forward, baring my teeth at him. “Just because you’re a bigger dog than the others doesn’t mean you get special treatment when negotiating contracts. You work with Benny. His word is as good as mine. If you don’t abide by those terms like everyone else, then you and my blade are gonna get real friendly.”

  Silas’s yellow eyes flashed. “That blade can’t kill me, you little bitch.”

  I grinned. “I know. Killing you instantly would take all the fun out of it.” I pressed the dagger harder, and three narrow lines of blood ran down his neck. Silas hissed in pain. “Shall we?” I asked.

  Silas licked his lips. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “No, I really do.” My eyes widened for emphasis. “Do I need to prove it to you?”

  Conflict warred in his eyes. I read the venom and hatred swirling in his gaze, but it mingled with genuine fear. “N-no.” He swallowed. “No. I understand perfectly.”

  I smiled and withdrew, then turned to face the crowd that had gathered to watch. “Anyone else want to challenge me?” I asked, spreading my arms wide. A few drops of Silas’s blood flicked from the motion, and several people flinched. I glanced at each person, but no one met my gaze.

  Just like old times.

  I dropped my arms. “Perfect. I’ll be in my office. If anyone enters without permission, I’m slitting their throat.”

  I stormed back down the hallway, and people darted out of my way, eager to avoid a run-in with my trusty dagger. Benny’s eyes glinted, his face lifting with a smirk, but I ignored him as I returned to my office and slammed the door shut.

  It didn’t solve my paperwork problem, but it got my blood pumping again. And that was all I needed.

  3

  Vince

  My vision blurred, but I forced myself to remain upright as I said, “What do you mean by stolen magical aura?”

  The gray-haired woman looked from Mom to me and back again. “You haven’t explained it to him yet?” The severity of the woman’s expression and the authority in her tone made me stiffen.

  Who had authority over Mom? She’d been the leader of our clan.

  “He’s been sick,” Mom said defensively, but the argument sounded weak.

  “I’m fine,” I snapped. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  Both women bristled at my outburst. The older woman’s nostrils flared, and Mom’s eyes turned steely.

  “He can’t come,” the older woman muttered.

  “The hell I can’t!” I surged forward. Fire burned in my veins, sending a bolt of clarity in my mind. Energy crackled around me as I approached the woman, dwarfing her by at least a foot. “Go ahead. Try and stop me.” I thought of Cora, always fearless in the face of those who challenged her. I lifted my chin, trying to channel that same energy and courage.

  “Vince‍—‍” Mom said.

  “If you leave me here, I’ll just try to follow,” I said loudly. “I’m sick of being coddled. I need to know what’s going on here.”

  “You don’t give orders around here,” the older woman said curtly.

  My eyes narrowed. “And who are you?”

  The woman blinked and looked at Mom again. “Have you told him anything?”

  Mom’s mouth opened wordlessly, then closed, her expression a grimace.

  I gaped at her. Mom was speechless?

  Who was this woman?

  The gray-haired woman drew in a breath, her cold eyes fixed on mine. “I’m Gwendolyn Peters.”

  My brow furrowed. Gwen Peters was a legend among the Nephilim. A powerful leader and liaison between covens.

  Until she’d been killed by a demon coven thirty years ago. Someone had ordered a hit on her, and many demons had eagerly taken the challenge.

  I shook my head. “Gwen Peters died.”

  The woman’s jaw went rigid. “Another deception. Like your mother, I was stripped of my powers and banished here.”

  I squinted at her. She did vaguely resemble the picture of Gwen Peters, but it was hard to tell because of the wrinkles and gray hair. “You—you age here?”

  “I told you time passes differently,” Mom whispered.

  I swallowed. Nephilim usually didn’t age. It’s why Hector and the rest of the officials looked no older than thirty-five, though they were hundreds of yea
rs old.

  A knot formed in my throat. This meant Mom would get old in this realm. She could eventually die of old age.

  My eyes felt warm. Another scream filled the air, and we all jumped.

  Gwen cleared her throat. “We don’t have time for this.” She briskly walked to the open door. “Are you coming?”

  I stood there, speechless, until I realized she was talking to me. “Yes.” I joined Mom, and together, we followed Gwen out of the room. The giant metal door creaked shut behind us.

  We emerged in a wide tunnel with various paths that were sure to get me lost. Lanterns hung on the tunnel walls, guiding our way. It looked like a giant sewer—but cleaner. Though, if the walls were metal, I supposed it was more of a bunker than a sewer. The walls were curved and spherical like the ceiling. A damp, musty smell tickled my nose. With each step, a ripple of pain quivered through my head. I gritted my teeth, trying to focus on following Gwen. She turned down different paths in the tunnel, winding this way and that as if purposefully trying to confuse me.

  I was just about to ask how much farther we’d be walking when another scream pierced the air—and this one was much closer. My ears throbbed, and my skin prickled. This was no ordinary human scream.

  This was something otherworldly.

  A magical aura has been stolen. What did that mean?

  We stopped in front of a door that thrummed with power. I stilled, staring wide-eyed at the door. Energy pulsed under my skin in response to the magic waiting on the other side.

  Mom grasped my shoulder. “Stay close to me,” she murmured.

  I swallowed and nodded.

  Gwen pushed open the door with a loud creak. A burst of magic exploded around me, clouding around my face like a mist. I sucked in a breath, my head spinning.

  Low voices echoed around me. Mom took my hand and guided me forward, and I clung to her like a lifeline. My vision was foggy, but the voices around me persisted. Who were they talking to?

  After a moment, I realized they weren’t talking—they were chanting a spell.

  Another strangled scream tore at my eardrums. It was raw and anguished.

  Gradually, my vision cleared, and I made out a wide circle of Reapers surrounding a girl lying on a slab of concrete. I squinted. No, not a girl.

  A spirit.

  She was completely transparent. I could see the concrete through her body as if she could pass right through it. She writhed and struggled as the Reapers continued their chant, their dark wings billowing behind them from the magic in the air.

  Mom ushered me to the corner of the room and whispered, “Stay here.” Then, she followed Gwen to the circle of Reapers. Mom’s wings sprang out as easily as if she’d lifted her arm. She and Gwen inserted themselves into the circle, clasping hands with the other Reapers and joining in their chanting.

  I sucked in sharp breaths, leaning against the cold wall for support. The magic still clouded around me, fogging up my mind. I could barely think straight. I shut my eyes, screwing up my face in concentration.

  Focus, I told myself. You can overcome this. Just listen. I inhaled shakily, counting my breaths.

  After five breaths, I could make out the words the Reapers were chanting.

  “Souls of the dead, restore her essence. Souls of the dead, restore her essence.”

  They repeated the same sentence over and over. The words sent a chill sweeping through me. Energy quivered within me, tickling the muscles in my back. In a burst of power, my wings exploded behind me. Dark feathers tickled my face. I sucked in a breath, my eyes wide. It felt as if something heavy had been lifted from my chest. And now I could breathe.

  I glanced over my shoulder. My heart lurched at the sight of black wings behind me.

  I was so accustomed to white wings.

  Another scream filled the room, this one weaker than before. The girl on the concrete arched backward, her mouth tearing open and her face taut with agony. When her body relaxed against the concrete, she didn’t move again.

  The chanting stopped.

  Something in the air went eerily still, and the magic surrounding me vanished. Everything was frozen.

  Then, the Reapers dropped their hands and backed away from the girl. Each face was filled with regret and disappointment.

  My mouth felt dry. Had the girl died? The thought sounded silly, since I was fairly certain she was already dead.

  Mom’s eyes met mine, and her face slackened in shock. A mixture of emotions filled her face, but she quickly composed herself. Her eyes roved over my wings, spread out behind me, and pride glinted in her expression.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  Gwen leaned forward, whispering something to the other Reapers. A few of them nodded and approached the girl on the concrete. In an instant, the girl vanished, and a mist pooled from the center of the concrete, swirling in the air. Moisture brushed against my face as the mist rose higher and higher until it vanished completely.

  My heart sank to my stomach. Something told me the mist was the girl’s spirit.

  And it was gone now. Leaving nothing behind.

  Mom appeared by my side. Her piercing eyes questioned mine. “Are you all right?”

  I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Each inhale was a rasp. “I—I feel . . .”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  But she didn’t know. I didn’t even know what I felt. It was like my body responded to the magic here without my permission. Like it knew more than I did about what was going on.

  My mind was a mass of confusion. But the magic within me was at peace. It baffled me.

  A small smile lit Mom’s face. “Your magic has awakened.”

  I nodded numbly. “Yeah.” I stared at the concrete. Slowly, the Reapers filed out of the room, leaving Mom and me standing alone.

  I looked at her. “What was that?”

  Mom hesitated before answering. “A spirit who had passed on. Her magic was ripped from her before she died. When she arrived here, she was suffering from the loss. We couldn’t save her.”

  My brow furrowed. “Save her from . . . what?”

  “Extinction.”

  I shook my head, not comprehending.

  “A soul is tethered to magic. They are bonded. When a soul is on the brink of death, it hovers between realms, and its link to magic is fragile. If that magic is forcibly removed, some souls do not recover from the trauma. The girl’s spirit couldn’t exist without her magic. So, it disintegrated. Her essence returned to the magic in the air around us.”

  My heart turned to cold stone in my chest. It sounded like a fairy tale adults told their children about what happened when people died. Returning to the magic in the air was just a kind way of saying she ceased to exist.

  She died a permanent death and would never return. Never live again.

  It all felt very final. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever believed in heaven and hell, but in this moment, I realized I always believed in something beyond death. An afterlife. Death was never it.

  “How did it happen?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

  “We don’t know. It’s only just started recently. Souls have started arriving without their magic. Someone is robbing them. A brutal theft.” Mom’s face hardened with fury. “Whoever is doing this knows exactly when to strike.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Magic is most potent just before death. It’s like a magical aura knows it needs to bond with its host in order to make the transition to death easier. Whoever is stealing magic knows this—and they are striking at the perfect time. They’re siphoning the magic to gain more power, and the souls are suffering for it.”

  A chill raced down my spine. Someone is stealing magic from the dead. “Who has the power to do that kind of thing?”

  Mom offered a wry smile. “Someone like us.”

  I stilled. “You think it was another Reaper?”

  Mom shook her head. “No. Reapers are bound by the vows we swore when we first came here. It
couldn’t be a Reaper. But someone like us—someone with the power to travel to different realms—could have done this. This wasn’t the work of a mere demon. It has to be someone who is familiar with other worlds.”

  Bound by the vows we swore. I licked my lips, suddenly feeling uneasy. “What vow?”

  Mom blinked. “What?”

  “You said you swore a vow.”

  “Oh, yes. Before Reapers can begin working, they must swear a vow to ensure they don’t abuse their powers.”

  Sickness swirled in my stomach. I was reminded of the Ceremonial Rite in my Nephilim clan where we had to pledge fealty to the clan—and forswear all other forms of magic.

  Had I just left one prison to enter another? Would the Reapers try to squash my warlock magic too?

  Mom seemed to read the terror in my face. “It isn’t like that, Vince. It’s not like a pledge. A vow is a promise to uphold the law. It doesn’t limit your magic at all, just what you do with it.”

  That still didn’t sound much better.

  Mom sighed in exasperation. “The vow keeps you from harming souls, Vince. It protects them from the very thief we’re trying to find. As a Reaper, you’re given an enormous power that could be abused by the wrong people. The vow just preserves the sanctity of our duty.”

  I was suddenly very wary of what this “duty” entailed. “What duty is that?”

  “We reap magic. When a soul arrives from the other side, we reap their magic from their soul so both can co-exist in harmony.”

  I frowned. “How is that different from stealing magic from a soul?”

  “The soul is willing when we separate them from their magic. And it only happens after death. Whoever is stealing magic is doing it just before the caster dies.”

  “But you said a soul is bonded to their magic . . .”

  Mom nodded. “Yes. We still allow the magic to live with the soul. But they are no longer confined to one body. The magic can return to the air but still flow with the person’s soul. It’s no longer restricted to one host.”

  When I gave her a perplexed expression, she chuckled.