by R. L. Perez
I shrugged, my cheeks warming. Why was I embarrassed by this? Clearing my throat, I asked, “So . . . since I’m back in the mortal realm, do I need to summon my Teleportation powers the old way?”
Benny shook his head. “Your Reaper magic is still the same. However you traveled last time, do that again.”
I nodded, gripping the crosse tightly in my hands. My vision narrowed, isolating the goal in front of me. Everything else around me faded. It was just me and the goal.
My heart rate slowed. My mind sharpened with focus. Without realizing it, I’d moved. My steps were strong and purposeful. I only saw the goal. Only felt the weight of the ball in my crosse.
Luke’s house, a voice in my head whispered. I visualized the location clearly in my mind, as if it were a normal afternoon and we were lounging on his couch after school.
A small pop jerked me back to reality. Benny and I spun in place. The air whooshed around us. Gravity pressed in on me, squeezing the air out of me.
Then, we landed. It was much less forceful than the last few times. But, then again, I’d traveled much farther. This was just a few miles. And no time travel.
Benny released my hand, staggering forward with a clumsy “oof.” His face was ashen, and he shook his head violently, his eyes dazed.
“You all right?” I asked, slightly proud of the way I’d managed to remain upright. I didn’t even feel nauseous this time.
Benny sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
I looked around, my chest tightening at the familiar sight. The houses were small, mostly single-family homes. Thin pine trees lined the street.
I’d Jumped us to the neighbor’s house, just in case our arrival attracted Luke’s attention.
My stomach twisted with anxiety. For some reason, I was worried Luke wouldn’t want to talk to me. He hadn’t seemed particularly eager to help the Reapers last time I asked. But maybe if Benny and I ambushed him, we could get him to agree.
Benny’s gaze grew distant as he stared in the direction of Luke’s tiny, run-down home. After a moment, Benny said, “I sense three people in the house. One of them is Luke, and he’s undisturbed. I can only assume the other two are family members.”
I nodded. Luke was the oldest. His younger siblings were probably at soccer practice with their dad.
Benny’s eyes cut to me. “He’ll know as soon as we step onto the yard. Are you ready?”
“Ready.”
Together, we strode toward Luke’s house.
20
Cora
My head was throbbing by the time I finally went back to my apartment. I knew it would’ve saved time if I’d just brought my spell notes and books to the office, but some small part of me craved a solace away from the coven. A sanctuary that was just for me.
Even if it was after midnight and I was bone-weary, ready for sleep.
“Cora?”
I stilled, my keys jingling in my hand as a dark shape emerged from the staircase at the apartment complex. My body tensed until I recognized the figure. It was Dex, the vampire.
I relaxed. “Nice to see you again, Dex.”
Dex nodded politely. “And you. Are you well?”
I smiled, amused by the cordial way vampires spoke. It always made me curious about how old they were. They were probably accustomed to propriety and customs from hundreds of years ago. “I am. What can I do for you?”
Dex shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around. Though shadows surrounded us, my instincts told me we were alone. “I have news.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
My heart fluttered with excitement. I stepped closer to him. “Tell me.”
Dex hesitated. “This can’t get back to Hunter. He’s too afraid we’ll be killed for sharing information with you.”
Dread mingled with excitement, building up inside my chest until I couldn’t breathe. “You have my word. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
He nodded absently. “It’s Piper,” he said in a whisper.
I frowned. It took me a moment to conjure the image of the girl with the purple hair. The one who had eventually sided with me in front of the mob after the fire. “What is Piper?”
“Your thief.”
My frown deepened. “Piper’s too young. There’s no way she’s working alone.”
“You’re right. She isn’t. It’s her boss that has Hunter too scared to talk. I don’t know him, but Hunter does. He says all the vampires in the city answer to him. If you want answers, dig up dirt on Piper first.”
I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but before I could, Dex vanished into the shadows. Gaping after him, I shuddered against a sudden chill that gripped me and made my way to my apartment.
Piper was stealing from the coven? Chronologically, it made sense; she’d joined us just before Damien’s death. But . . . she wasn’t a Bloodcaster. I’d seen her magic—it was black.
I trusted Dex’s information. But if Piper was stealing from me . . . then, why? She was powerful, yes, but barely eighteen years old. She seemed so down-to-earth. So solid. Not at all like those untrustworthy weasels who always tried to double-cross me.
She had to have another motive. Maybe her scary boss was blackmailing her. I knew what that was like.
And if her boss was as powerful as Dex said, then he was probably the Bloodcaster I was looking for.
I rubbed my forehead as I entered my place, bolting the door behind me. My body ached with exhaustion, but I still had so much work to do. I hauled out the coven’s Grimoire, which I had acquired soon after Damien’s death, and got to the more pressing matter of identifying the Reapers’ attacker. The old book was full of spells and potions I’d never heard of before. For the first few weeks after I got it, my body itched to test out something new. But the coven responsibilities soon overwhelmed me, and I hadn’t gotten the chance.
After brewing some coffee and drinking a cup or two to get my body buzzed, I sat at the table and started leafing through pages in the Grimoire. At first, I searched under the “demons” section, thinking that whoever their attacker was had to have dark magic. Maybe he was Second or Third Tier. But after scanning the various passages about vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters, I came up empty-handed.
Then, I remembered what Gwen had said—that this enemy seemed to have the powers of a Reaper. Frowning, I turned to the section of the Grimoire about Nephilim. After scanning the pages, I found only a small paragraph about Reapers: Some dark Nephilim possess the power to reap magic from a caster’s soul. This power can only be accessed if a Nephilim pledges a sacred vow, or if a caster brews the appropriate potion.
I stilled. My entire body felt numb with horror. I read the line again: . . . if a caster brews the appropriate potion.
Obviously, it wouldn’t have been as easy as just listing the potion ingredients right there, otherwise anyone could do it. But the fact that the book mentioned a potion at all meant . . .
My heart thundered as I jumped up from the table, rushing into my room to dive through my notebook of potions and their ingredients, handwritten by me over the years. Frantically, I turned pages and pages until I found a potion I hadn’t made in years: a Nephilim elixir.
My breath turned shaky and ragged as I glanced over the ingredients. Then, my blood ran cold.
It called for a white Nephilim feather. And, right next to it, in my own handwriting, I’d added uncertainly: can it be substituted with a dark feather for dark Nephilim powers? The ink was fresher here. I remembered adding this note after I’d met Vince and found out Reapers existed.
A sour taste filled my mouth as I took another shuddering breath. If my theory had been correct, there was a potion that allowed someone to temporarily become a Reaper. All they needed was a bit of my blood.
Or . . . the blood of another Bloodcaster.
This was all connected: the thief, the hidden Bloodcaster, and the powerful demon taking over the Astral Realm. But why? Why would a Bloodcaster want to rob me a
nd steal magic from the Reapers? It didn’t make any sense.
Suddenly, my skin prickled, my instincts screaming at me that something was wrong. I bolted to my feet, my pulse skittering as I looked around the room. The air shifted around me, and I smelled something familiar and foreign. Something flowery mingled with ash and alcohol.
My eyes narrowed. In a flash, my dagger was in my hand as I crept toward the living room.
“Who’s there?” I demanded.
A low chuckle echoed from the kitchen. Blood pounded in my ears as I inched closer. “Do you have any idea how stupid you are for breaking into an assassin’s home?” I snapped.
A shadow emerged from the kitchen before I could step inside. As he drew closer, I made out the features of a tall, wiry man with gray hair and a goatee. His cold, dark eyes surveyed me with interest and curiosity.
I grew rigid, sucking in a breath. There was that smell again. This time, I finally remembered where I’d smelled it before.
The orphanage. The blanket I’d been wrapped in as a baby. I’d kept it for years, often smelling it to try to get a whiff of who my parents were and why they’d abandoned me.
This man smelled like that blanket.
A lump formed in my throat. The man cocked his head and smiled, his face sinister and predatory.
“Of all those fools scrambling to find me,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “I knew you’d be the first.”
I staggered back a step. “Why are you here?”
The man’s eyes glittered as he drew closer. “Really? That’s the first question you ask?”
My nostrils flared. “Get out before I gut you.”
He laughed. “Such fire. Your mother had it too. Even on the day of her death.”
Ice trickled down my chest. The feral look in his gaze told me he wasn’t at all sad about my mother’s death. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d killed her himself.
My head was spinning. I couldn’t process this. Couldn’t think. I had to get out.
No, a small voice in my head whispered. Focus. You’re a killer. You know how to think on your feet.
I had to distract him. At least until the shock wore off. Right now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold my own in a fight. I was too stunned.
Which was probably exactly what he wanted.
“Why’d you kill her?” I lifted my chin. “Did you sacrifice her in a blood ritual?”
The man grinned widely, showing his jagged and stained teeth. “Smart girl. Yes, I did exactly that. You probably know how rare Bloodcasters are. There were so many possibilities. So many experiments . . . I had questions that needed answering.”
I suppressed a shudder at the thought of my mother being subject to experimentation. “Why the Reapers?” I asked. “Why my coven? How are they connected?”
He took a step toward me, and I inched away from him, keeping a solid six feet between us. “Your coven is a means to an end. It’s you I really want.”
A means to an end? Then why—
I froze, suddenly understanding. “You needed cash.”
The man smirked as if pleased I’d figured it out. “I’d already infiltrated my way into your coven. I wasn’t ready to strike yet, and the cash opportunity was right there in front of me.” He shrugged. “I figured, why waste it?”
He’d probably hired Piper to work on the inside. My blood boiled at the thought. “And the Reapers?”
He laughed again. “That should be obvious. Power. Being a Bloodcaster provides me with so much raw, unstoppable magic. It’s unparalleled . . . in this realm. But the Astral Realm? Oh, so many possibilities . . . Enough power to create my own realm. To create a whole new society of casters!”
The hunger in his eyes made me sick to my stomach. This man was cold and calculating. No emotion. No affection. It was as if he completely lacked the ability to care.
He only saw power.
“You want to sacrifice me too,” I whispered.
He grinned. “I just need a tiny bit more power. My associates are duds in that department, I’m afraid.” He winked conspiratorially as if we were sharing grievances together.
Associates. “How many people are working with you?” I asked. It couldn’t possibly be just Piper in his employ. Dex had mentioned all the vampires in Hinport answered to him. He could have an entire army behind him.
“More than you think. Some of them you’ve already met.” His grin widened. He was enjoying watching me squirm.
This guy was a psychopath.
And I’d had enough of him.
I hurled my dagger at him. A burst of purple light momentarily blinded me, and a loud clatter told me my dagger had fallen to the floor. I lunged, tackling the man. He shoved his weight forward, thrusting me off to pin me down. I slammed my forehead against his. He groaned. I kicked him in the groin, and he groaned again. A weak chuckle burst from his lips.
“They said you were good,” he said in a strained voice. “But not as good as me.”
His mouth opened wide, and purple magic flooded from his mouth as if he were breathing fire. His eyes darkened until there was no white left. Black veins stood out against his skin. The room darkened and quivered.
I struggled to rise, but he held me in place. Long claws protruded from his fingers, embedding into my flesh.
He was transforming into some kind of beast.
My heart plummeted to my stomach. In that moment, I knew I would lose. So, I did the only thing I could do.
I screamed.
21
Vince
When I knocked on the door, Luke’s mom answered. Her face split into a wide grin when she saw me.
“Vince! We haven’t seen you in forever! How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. Is Luke home?”
“I’m here.” Luke appeared behind his mom, his face stony and his eyes guarded as he gazed from me to Benny.
“Can we come in?” I asked.
Luke glanced at his mom. “Give us a minute?”
Her expression stilled, her eyes filling with concern. I wondered how much she knew. Did she know her son possessed magic? Or had he lied to her too?
Slowly, she nodded and backed away from the door. I heard dishes clattering in the kitchen.
Luke stepped onto the porch next to Benny and me and shut the door behind him. Rubbing his arms against the chilly air, he hissed, “You can’t be here.”
“Things are bad, Luke,” I said. “We wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t urgent.”
“I know,” Luke snapped. “When are you gonna get it? My mind is linked to yours. I know everything.”
“Then you know my realm is dying!” I shot back. “Someone is tearing it apart as we speak, siphoning all the magic my people have reaped. We need your help. We need the Timekeepers’ help.”
Luke’s face drained of color, and he staggered back a step. “I—no. Vince, you can’t—”
“Luke, we have no other choice,” I said in a hard voice.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking!” Luke’s voice shook with fear. “The Timekeepers, they—they have no concept of right and wrong. For all we know, they’d side with the guy you’re trying to catch.”
My eyes narrowed as I took in his clenched fists and wide eyes. There was more to it than this. I stepped closer. “This demon, whoever he is, will tear the world apart. Do you want that?”
“Of course not!”
“Then, help us.”
“Vince—”
“Oh, enough already,” Benny snarled. He shoved Luke backward until my friend slammed against the front door. Benny raised his fingers and pressed them to Luke’s temple. Luke inhaled a sharp gasp and then went very still. His body was rigid, like a stiff mannequin in Benny’s grasp. Benny’s eyes closed, his brows furrowing in concentration.
Horror pooled in my stomach. Benny was sifting through Luke’s thoughts. Fishing for information.
“Stop it,” I whispered.
Benny ignored me. In h
is grip, Luke’s body went slack.
I shoved Benny off Luke. “I said stop!”
Benny grunted. Something electric crackled in the air when he broke contact with Luke.
Benny whirled on me, eyes blazing. “This is what we came here for! And he wasn’t cooperating!”
“You can’t just invade his mind like that!” I roared.
“Guys,” Luke groaned. He’d slumped backward against the door, his face ashen and his eyes incoherent. “It doesn’t matter. He knows.”
I blinked, my gaze shifting to Benny. “He knows what?”
Luke shook his head. “Not Benny. Hector.”
I stiffened. My blood ran cold. Hector?
A small pop behind us made me whirl, my heart pounding a warning rhythm in my chest.
Standing in the yard, his hands shoved in his pockets, was Hector, his eyes gleaming. He wore the same green robe I’d once seen on the Timekeepers.
Shock froze my body in place. I couldn’t move.
“Vince,” Hector said pleasantly, striding toward us. “I haven’t seen you in an age.”
My gaze flicked to Benny and Luke. Benny’s face had paled, and wolf fur appeared on his arms and face as if preparing him for battle. Luke closed his eyes, his face clammy.
I positioned myself in front of Luke. If it came down to a fight, he was too weak to defend himself. Finally finding my voice, I said, “What do you want?”
Hector raised an eyebrow, peering around my shoulder at Luke. “There’s no need. I can’t hurt him. We’re colleagues.”
Unease wormed through me. No. He’s lying. He has to be. I’m sure he just stole that robe and is trying to throw me off.
“I said, what do you want,” I growled.
Hector spread his arms, looking offended. “I want to talk. We’re old friends, after all.”
That was an overstatement. Hector was my enemy. He’d banished my mom to be a Reaper so he could take her place as leader of the clan. He’d worked with Damien to put a hit on me because I was stirring up trouble with my warlock powers.