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

by R. L. Perez

  “Give me a chance,” I begged. “Please. I just want what’s best for the coven.”

  More demons rushed off. But within the crowd, a strong voice shouted, “I’ll be here.”

  It was Piper. Shock flared within me, followed by an unfamiliar emotion: gratitude.

  After Piper’s comment, several others followed. An echo of agreement passed over the crowd, and I exhaled with relief.

  Bright blue and red lights flashed, and the crowd scattered.

  I grabbed Benny’s elbow and tugged him into the shadows. Summoning my magic, I murmured,

  “Magic above and powers that be,

  Conceal us from this enemy.”

  A faint purple glow emanated from my hands before surrounding Benny and me. I gripped his arm tightly, keeping us pressed up against the building, concealed by shadows and my cloaking spell. Benny was stiff, his body tense and his breathing short and ragged.

  I shot a glance at him, then noticed the stain of blood on his shirt. “Liar,” I whispered. “You are so not all right.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he rasped.

  “Let me heal you.”

  “I’m serious, Cora.”

  “So am I. I don’t want you bleeding out on the street.”

  Benny looked at me, his face paler than usual. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead. “How long do we have to stay here?”

  I looked at the two police cars. A fire truck pulled into the parking lot behind them. A few cops surrounded the building. One of them darted off in the opposite direction, no doubt trying to chase down the demons who had fled.

  “I think we’re good now.” I tugged on his arm, dragging him down the alley between two buildings and away from the chaos behind us.

  After taking Benny to my place to give him a healing elixir, I went back to the office building to assess the damage.

  As I feared, all that remained was charred rubble.

  I stared at the smoking husk that once had been the headquarters for our coven, and emotion unexpectedly built in my throat.

  It was just a building. Nothing to be sentimental about.

  But I remembered when Damien had bought this building. It had been a huge step for us. He and I had taken down a corrupt demon coven and started from the ground up. Buying this property had made it official.

  I remembered the gleam in his eye, the proud smirk on his face that I once mocked.

  Now, a new kind of emotion filled my chest. Regret. A deep, raw ache for what had once been. The eagerness that Damien and I shared. Our aligned goals and dreams for the coven.

  When had it all changed?

  The day Damien had ordered the hit on Vince had changed things for me. But for Damien, it must’ve happened before then. Gradually. A little power here and there, mixed with greed and ambition. He’d probably thought he was doing it all for the good of the coven.

  Just like me.

  It was a lie we told ourselves. It was really for our own good. Nobody else mattered.

  My eyes stung. I wanted to blame the ash in the air, but the moisture blurred my vision, and a tear slid down my cheek.

  Killing is all you know how to do. But Damien, he knew us. He cared about us.

  The coven had been right. I didn’t know them or care about them. I hadn’t even bothered to try.

  My whole life had been a battle. Year after year, I struggled to keep myself hidden from the world. To isolate myself from everyone for my own safety.

  That had to end if I wanted to lead these people. Opening up about my magic had been the right idea, but I’d executed it horribly. I’d used it to inspire fear instead of respect.

  I didn’t need these people to fear me. They already did.

  But they didn’t know me. And for me to succeed, that had to change.

  For the next few hours, my body was restless. I itched to hunt. To fight something. And the tighter the ball of energy grew within me, the more I realized this had contributed to the problem.

  I’d been an assassin for so long that I’d depended on it as a form of release. And when I became coven leader, that release had been taken away. I hadn’t found anything to replace it with.

  So, I’d relied on that part of me even when I shouldn’t have.

  I needed a new outlet.

  After briefly returning to my apartment to change, I laced up the running shoes I rarely wore and started sprinting. My feet knew the neighborhood well—all the alleys and shadows that would keep me concealed. But today, I didn’t care who saw me.

  I was certainly no runner. Within a few minutes, my legs started to burn and a stitch formed in my side. But the pain was bracing. Like a splash of cold water. I reveled in it.

  My legs pumped harder. Farther. Sweat poured down my face and neck. My breathing turned sharp and winded. The more I ran, the more tension I released. Push, push, push. Faster, faster, faster. Each breath was a slice in my lungs. The cool air was biting against me, but my body felt burning hot.

  I ran until I couldn’t breathe. Until black spots danced in my vision. Until the cramps in my side and legs were so severe I almost fell over. When I stopped, my legs still felt like they were in motion, carrying me away. I doubled over, clutching at my side and resisting the urge to collapse right there.

  It felt liberating. Exhilarating. The familiar thrill of the chase coursed through me, but it was different this time. There was no threat; no danger. Somehow, I assumed I needed both in order to feel this way.

  I was wrong.

  Like Vince, I found solace in the exercise. In pushing myself and relishing the exertion.

  My chest ached with a new kind of pain, but I welcomed that too. Vince. His hardened expression swam in my mind, and I closed my eyes.

  Dive into the pain, I told myself. This is your release, Cora.

  And so I did.

  I didn’t have time to change or shower before meeting my coven. So, I arrived at the smoking remains of the office building in my tank top and shorts, still covered in sweat. I was sure my face was beet-red and my hair a tangled, sweaty mess. But I didn’t care.

  A few people had already gathered in front of the building, including Benny. I recognized Finn and another warlock named Perry. They stood off to the side, casting dark looks toward Benny. The werewolf looked better than when I left him, but his face was still haggard. He turned when he saw me, his eyes wide as he took in my appearance. Something darkened in his eyes as he drew nearer.

  “What happened?” he demanded. “Are you hurt?”

  I choked out a laugh, still winded from my run. “Hardly. I went . . . running.” The words sounded so forced, so strange coming from my lips.

  Benny noticed. His head reared back, and his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me as if trying to tell if I was kidding.

  I just grinned at him, but that only made him more suspicious.

  “You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  I nodded, feeling freer than I had in days. Part of me wanted to explain it to him, to share this feeling of euphoria with someone. But another part of me wanted to keep it to myself. My own private sanctuary.

  So, I said nothing else to Benny and instead turned to Finn and Perry. They, too, eyed me warily.

  “Perry. Finn.” I nodded at them. “Thank you for coming.”

  Surprise flitted across their faces, and they glanced at each other for a moment. Finn recovered first and nodded stiffly, his jaw rigid. But Perry watched me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable.

  He knew I was different. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, either. I wasn’t the reserved, isolated, intimidating killer they’d seen last night.

  This was a completely different Cora. And it was frightening and exciting all at once.

  A few minutes later, a dozen more demons arrived, including Piper. I made sure to greet each of them by name and offer a smile. Ordinarily, it would feel forced. But after my run, keeping a pleasant expression felt natural.

  Endorphins, probably.
/>   When I was certain no one else was coming, I stood in front of the building where the entrance had once been and cleared my throat loudly. The chatter around me faded, and everyone watched me expectantly. Though some of them glared with hostility, the air felt calmer. More collected. Even Piper watched me with a neutral expression. The venom from earlier had completely vanished from her gaze.

  I drew courage from that before I spoke. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. The coven has been a mess since I took over. And I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t know how to be a leader. In some ways, I still don’t. But I’m willing to improve if you’ll let me.

  “Times are hard. Like I told you before, if you don’t feel comfortable staying in the coven, I won’t judge you for leaving. But unlike before, I promise not to rule by fear and violence. Those of you here with me right now have remained loyal to the coven, and you’ll be rewarded for that.

  “I want this to work. I want to help restore this coven to its former glory. But I can’t do it without you. I need you on my side.

  “One more chance. That’s all I’m asking for. If you leave, that’s fine. But if you give me one more chance, I swear I’ll make this work. We can rebuild this coven together, one step at a time.”

  I fell silent, unsure of how to finish my speech. The words had poured from my mouth on their own, but now that I was done, reality crashed back into me. A wave of uncertainty rose up inside me. I can’t do this, a small voice said in my mind. I can’t.

  “I’ll stand with you,” said a voice. I didn’t need to look up to know it was Benny.

  Though I’d expected his loyalty, I still offered a small smile.

  Then, to my surprise, Piper chimed in, “Me too.”

  Finn, Perry, and the others all murmured their assent. The hostility in their eyes was gone, replaced by a cautious optimism. There was still tangible tension in the air.

  But for now, we were united. And this coven still stood a chance.

  11

  Vince

  I stood in the kitchen of our tiny home in Ravenbrooke. Dad stood in front of me, his eyes kind and full of affection. “You’re not clearing your head,” he said gently.

  “I’m trying!”

  “Vince, don’t get mad. Focus.”

  I gritted my teeth, biting back a growl. How could I focus when I was getting so frustrated?

  Dad sighed, but it wasn’t out of impatience. He watched me with a calm, steady gaze, and for some reason, this only made me angrier.

  “Tell me, when do you feel most calm?” Dad asked.

  I glared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Humor me.”

  I groaned. “When I’m sleeping.”

  “Besides that.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “I don’t know, uh, when I’m watching TV? Or reading?”

  Dad nodded, his eyes contemplative. “Let’s go do that.” He led me from the kitchen and into the living room. Though bills and papers were strewn all over the coffee table, he still sat me down on the sofa and took a seat next to me. As casually as if it were a normal Saturday afternoon, he clicked on the TV. One of our favorite sitcoms was on.

  Dad relaxed against the couch, crossing his arms and lifting his feet on the coffee table. Though I stared hard at him, his gaze remained idly on the TV.

  My nostrils flared, and I glowered, determined to remain upset. But silence fell between us, and I found myself listening to the dialog. Each time the laugh track hit, something within me loosened just a fraction.

  We sat there watching for ten minutes. When I laughed out loud, Dad muttered quietly, “Picture the field, Vince. See it in your mind. Now, go there.”

  I stilled, my body still relaxed on the couch. Focus, a voice inside me said. Focus.

  Keeping my body loose and casual, I slowly closed my eyes and pictured the lacrosse field Dad often took me to. I breathed in and out again. Before realizing what was happening, I was on my feet. I turned in place. A small pop rang in my ears—

  I woke with a jolt, my heart thundering in my chest. My eyes opened, and I imagined I’d find Dad sitting right next to me, his eyes gleaming with pride.

  But no. Dad wasn’t here. I would never see him again.

  Instead, Mom’s pale face loomed over me. She softly shook my shoulders, and I faintly registered she’d been trying to wake me.

  Disappointment and grief flooded my chest. I turned away from her, feeling like a petulant child.

  But I didn’t care. Right now, her face was the last one I wanted to see. I longed to dive back into the memory of Dad teaching me how to Jump for the first time. I’d been ten years old. The memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. I just wanted to go back. To be with him, even if our home was a dump and the clan treated us like dirt.

  “It’s time, Vince,” Mom murmured, jolting me from my anguished thoughts.

  My heart stopped for a full beat.

  It’s time.

  Time to swear in. Time to plunge my life onto another path I didn’t want. Away from the people I loved.

  Time to resign myself to living in this realm forever.

  I wanted to scream. To throw things. To grab my mother by the shoulders and knock some sense into her. How could everyone here be so insane?

  “Vince,” Mom said again. A hint of impatience touched her tone.

  I slowly turned to face her. When I met her gaze, uncertainty stirred in her eyes, followed by raw emotion and vulnerability.

  She was nervous for me. And in her eyes, I saw the devastation from the distance that had grown between us.

  This wasn’t her fault. And I had agreed to swear in.

  That had been before my failed Jump. I’d been so sure I could leave.

  But Luke had been right. I had to accept this choice I’d made.

  With a heavy sigh, I sat up, my body stiff and my mind still reeling from the vivid dream. A hard lump formed in my throat. For the millionth time, I wished my dad were here. He always emphasized that this was my life. My choice. And I should always make those choices regardless of how he felt about it.

  Make your choices, Vince, Dad had said. But face the consequences too. Every choice has repercussions you don’t always know about. Face them like a man, head-on.

  I swallowed and inhaled a shaky breath. Over Mom’s shoulder, I saw Jocelyn. Her hair was a wet curtain down her back as she slid on a light jacket. I assumed she’d just showered. Her movements were shaky, and when she turned, her eyes caught mine.

  Her lips quivered, but her chin lifted. Determination gleamed in her eyes. She nodded at me.

  I nodded back.

  After I’d dressed, Mom led me and Jocelyn past the dining hall. At first, the tunnel seemed unfamiliar. But once we arrived in the small room with a slab of concrete in the middle, I realized I’d been here before—when that girl’s spirit had vanished into nothingness after her magic had been stolen.

  The memory sent a ripple of emotions coursing through me, but guilt was at the forefront. Guilt over my own childish resistance. My petty desire to have the life I wanted.

  Meanwhile, souls were falling into extinction, never to be seen again. The elusive magic thief was still cutting away these auras.

  While I’d been whining about going home, the souls were suffering. Souls who needed my help.

  I squared my shoulders, my resolve hardening within me. I remembered Luke’s words: Stop seeing a prison and start seeing possibilities.

  Perhaps I was here for a reason. Perhaps I could make a difference.

  Cool fingers slid against mine. I started, turning to find Jocelyn right next to me, offering a hesitant smile. I swallowed and squeezed her hand.

  Her presence comforted me. I wasn’t alone in this. It reminded me of the Ceremonial Rite when we’d made the same choice together.

  “Which of you will go first?” a strong voice rang out. I looked around and found Gwen Peters standing in front of the circle of Reapers, her co
ld blue eyes shifting between me and Jocelyn.

  “I will,” I said at once. Jocelyn looked surprised, but I nodded before stepping forward. In a way, I felt responsible for Jocelyn being here. Though I knew she’d made the choice, I didn’t think she would’ve if I hadn’t done the same.

  “Lie on the altar.” Gwen gestured to the slab of concrete in the middle.

  I stared at it. Altar. As in . . . for sacrifices? My stomach churned at the thought.

  The circle of Reapers watched me expectantly. I took a deep breath and strode forward before carefully reclining against the rock. The cold stone pressed into my back and made me shiver. I stared at the dome-shaped ceiling, trying to ignore the goosebumps springing along my arms.

  Footsteps shuffled around me. I wanted to glance around to see, but my vision was limited. The Reapers surrounded me, their black wings rippling against each other. I searched for Jocelyn’s familiar flame of hair but couldn’t find her.

  My eyes settled on Mom. She watched me with a blank expression. I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped to find in her face—pride? Uncertainty?—but it wasn’t that. Her empty gaze only reminded me of Reapers like Ellis.

  My future.

  No, I told myself, closing my eyes. I will make a new life here. And I will find a way to save myself. To save others.

  I was not defined by this—being a Nephilim or a Jumper. I was Vince Delgado.

  And here, in front of all these Reapers, I silently made my own vow to never lose sight of who I was.

  “Join hands,” Gwen’s voice rang out.

  I kept my eyes closed as the Reapers murmured around me, their voices echoing at one ethereal voice.

  “Black wings and powers from the otherworld,

  Hear and welcome us into the fold,

  This Reaper who pledges to serve and work,

  To care for souls and never shirk,

  To only use his powers for good,

  And to help every soul he should.”

  A ripple of magic sparked in the air. My skin prickled, and I suppressed a shiver.

  “Repeat after me, Vince,” Mom said softly.