by R. L. Perez
Before either of them spoke, I stormed out of the room.
I was halfway down the hallway when I collided with Luke.
My friend yelped as we both fell over. Laughing, Luke extended a hand to help me up. When we both stood, and his expression sobered as he no doubt took in the rage etched into my face.
“What—what happened?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it. What’re you doing here?” The edge in my voice made the question sound more like a demand.
Luke cleared his throat. “Benny asked for my help, and I’ve been doing some research. I think I’ve found a way to help you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh?”
“I’ll need to talk to the other Reapers about it, though.”
Something in me deflated. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, uh, that might be a problem. Mom says the Reapers want to flee and find a new home. But I refused. I’m staying.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “What? Can you do that?”
“No idea. But I can’t just run away. I want to fight this asshole and stop him before he destroys everything.”
Luke’s mouth pressed together, forming a thin line. “I may be able to help with that.”
I frowned. “With what?”
“Fighting . . . and fleeing.”
Fifteen minutes later, the Reapers, plus my dad and Luke, crowded in the hotel lobby. A few of Cora’s men stood guard around the exits, and Cora herself leaned casually against the wall across from us, watching intently.
I avoided Mom’s gaze, though I felt her eyes on me.
“You have our attention,” Gwen said, her voice firm and commanding. The coldness in her eyes suggested she had low expectations. “What is this plan of yours?”
Luke exchanged a glance with Benny, who nodded encouragingly. I’d forgotten they were both Thinkers. It was weird to think of them as friends.
Luke licked his lips, wringing his hands together in front of him. I remembered he’d always hated public speaking. He got terrible stage fright.
“Benny and I reached out to our contacts,” Luke said, his voice trembling slightly. “We discovered something interesting about our Telepathic abilities. The strongest Thinkers can create a kind of mental prison. Impenetrable to all forms of magic.” His eyes widened with significance.
“Even Bloodcaster magic?” Cora asked, straightening.
Luke nodded. “Quentin Cox was taking out Second Tier Thinkers because he knew this was a potential threat to his magic.”
“You’re not Second Tier,” Gwen said, her eyes narrowing.
“Luke isn’t,” Benny said, “but I am.”
I started. My heart lurched as I glanced at Cora. She met my gaze and nodded grimly.
Benny is Second Tier. How had I not known this?
Even Gwen looked shocked as she glanced from Benny to Luke.
“We have a few options,” Luke went on, his voice gaining strength. “There’s a binding spell we can use to bind the Reapers’ magic and tether it to a single host—one lone Reaper—to keep the magic protected. Then, we can lock this Reaper in a mental prison to keep Quentin from getting to him. The only catch is, the Thinker has to stay alive. If Quentin finds out who’s housing this Reaper magic and he kills the Thinker, the magic will be released and the Reaper will die.”
I suppressed a shudder as my blood ran cold at the thought.
“You’re suggesting we trap our entire arsenal of magic . . . in the mind of this demon?” Gwen gestured to Benny, who stiffened. The incredulity and scorn on Gwen’s face was enough to make my blood boil.
“If you want to take Quentin down, you’re gonna need to get over your bitchy prejudice real fast,” Cora said, her eyes burning with fury.
Gwen’s lips tightened, and her nostrils flared. Murmurs rippled around the room from Reapers and demons alike.
Before the arguing escalated, Luke jumped in again. “There is . . . another option.”
The crowd fell silent and watched Luke attentively.
Luke swallowed and, for some reason, shot an apologetic glance at me. “Vince’s mind is connected to mine. We’re the only two people in this room with that kind of connection. It would take a powerful spell, but . . . I believe I can keep Vince and the Reaper magic safe in my own mind.”
I stared at him, my body frozen with shock. It took a few seconds for me to register what he was saying.
I hadn’t even reacted when Cora went rigid, her icy gaze on Luke. “Are you suggesting we trap Vince inside your head? Do you even have enough power to do that?”
“And are you even strong enough to fight off Quentin if he finds you?” Mom asked.
Neither of them asked in disdain or condescension. These were genuine questions.
But Luke flinched all the same. “I don’t know. But it’s either me . . . or Benny. We’re the only two Thinkers who can help you.”
Again, his gaze flicked back to me, and I understood what he was saying. He didn’t want this for me. But he’d already ascertained that the Reapers wouldn’t want to put their magic inside Benny. They didn’t trust him.
But they could trust Luke.
My insides felt hollow. I already knew what the decision would be before Gwen spoke.
“We will use your bond with Vince,” Gwen said to Luke. “Vince will be the vessel for our magic.”
“No,” Mom said, her voice even louder than Gwen’s.
A stunned silence filled the room. Even the demons who didn’t know Mom or Gwen seemed to understand the severity of this situation. Gwen’s mouth tightened, her eyes spearing through Mom, who stepped forward.
Mom lifted her chin. “I will be the vessel.”
My mouth fell open, and confusion and relief warred within me. “Mom—”
“The Reapers will fight,” Mom said, her voice gaining volume. “I will guard our magic while the rest of you stay here to end the threat.” Her eyes shifted to me, softening a bit. “Let Vince live his life. I’ll bind myself to Benny willingly.” She looked at Gwen, her gaze blazing as if daring her to defy this.
Gwen’s nostrils flared, and her eyes were piercing as she stared Mom down. But Mom didn’t shrink away. In that moment, I wondered who had the authority. I’d always assumed it was Gwen, given her legendary exploits as a powerful Nephilim. But Mom had also been clan leader.
It had never really mattered until now.
At long last, Gwen nodded stiffly. “Very well. Cecile will be our vessel.”
30
Cora
After the meeting, there was a flurry of activity and questions. Many demons in my coven demanded to know why we were even helping these Reapers. Honestly, I’d asked myself the same question again and again.
But so much was at stake. If Quentin got more power, he could literally take over the world.
And, of course, there was Vince. I would do anything for him. Even fight a battle I would likely lose.
I extricated myself from the talkative demons who wanted to discuss this new threat with me. I found Vince sitting in the armchair of the lobby, his expression stony.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He huffed a laugh. “No.”
Slowly, I sank into the chair opposite him and leaned forward, meeting his gaze. “Your mom knew what she was doing. It was her choice.”
“There is no choice,” he said bitterly. “Nephilim, Reapers—they’re all the same. Choosing your life for you. Taking away your freedom. It’s all or nothing.”
“You made the choice to become a Reaper.”
His expression soured. “I know. And I’ve regretted it almost every day since.”
The devastation in his face was almost too much for me. I took a deep breath. “I can try to find another way to—”
“There is no other way,” he said glumly. “And we’re out of time.” He ran his hands through his hair. “If they could just see that allying ourselves with other covens—even with just your coven—would give us an advan
tage.” He groaned.
I dropped my hands on my lap. “Stubborn fools.”
“I know.”
Silence fell between us. I shifted a bit in my seat. “What if your mom didn’t have to do this at all? What if we could take Quentin out before Gwen even finishes the binding spell?”
Vince went very still as he watched me. I read the hesitant hope in his eyes, the guarded curiosity. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
“Quentin has no weaknesses,” I said. “The only thing he wants—craves, even—is more power. He wants to sacrifice me to get that power because I’m the only other Bloodcaster he can find.”
“Okay.” Vince’s eyes narrowed slightly. I could tell he didn’t like where this was going.
I took a breath. “I want to lure him out, using myself as bait.”
His head reared back, and he glanced around the lobby as if worried we’d be overheard. “Are you insane?” he hissed, leaning closer to me. “You’ll get yourself killed.”
“Not if I set the trap the right way. And I want you to help me do it.”
He blinked, his face slackening in surprise. “You—you do?”
I nodded. “You’re powerful, Vince. More powerful than you realize. And if you can use your time travel ability, it’ll be an easy win for us.”
Vince gaped at me, clearly stunned. The shock and pure disbelief on his face made me want to cry. He thought nothing of himself. No one had ever truly needed his help before.
I resonated with that—I’d been lonely for most of my life—but this was different. Vince thought himself incapable. Incompetent.
I put my hand on his knee, clasping his fingers in mine. “Help me do this, Vince, and it’ll all be over.”
He stared at me for a long moment, a dozen emotions filling his eyes. Hesitation, confusion, fear, surprise, affection, and then . . . resolve.
He nodded. “Tell me the plan.”
Though it would’ve been helpful to march on Quentin with an entire army at my disposal, I kept our operation to just a trusted few of my coven: Benny, Piper, Vince, and Dex, the vampire. Dex had offered to convince Hunter to join, but I refused. For one thing, I didn’t trust Hunter, not when he feared Quentin more than he trusted me. For another, I sincerely doubted Hunter would come. He’d been too afraid to offer me information. He likely would balk at the idea of attacking Quentin directly.
After securing the potions I needed and ensuring my crew was in position, I had Vince Jump me to Quentin’s neighborhood—just a few blocks from where I’d been imprisoned.
Vince gathered me against his chest, and I savored his mint and soap scent, the feel of his muscular arms around me. The world shifted, and with a small pop, we arrived in the suburbs. I suppressed a shudder at the sight of the empty street, the sickening row of identical houses, and the eerie silence that swept over me.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Vince murmured.
I looked up at him. His brows pulled together, his jaw rigid. Fire blazed in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked like that warrior angel I’d seen in my office—the first time I’d seen him as a Reaper.
I leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He grunted in surprise but grasped my waist, pulling me against him. “I’m with you, Vince,” I whispered against his lips. “Always. I’ll fight for you. Kill for you. I’ll slaughter anyone who gets in our way.” I drew away to look up at him, relishing the hot desire stirring in his eyes. Not a whiff of fear of who I was or what I could do.
I loved that about him.
“Remember the plan,” I said breathlessly. “Stay safe.”
He nodded, pushing my hair behind my ear. “You too.”
I touched his cheek, and then with a pop, he vanished, leaving me alone on the darkening street. A gust of wind tousled my hair, and I glanced up at the dark clouds, recognizing the warning of a thunderstorm.
Let it come. Let it rage around me.
I checked my daggers and potion elixirs before striding forward, remembering the street corner where Quentin had almost killed Piper. I didn’t bother masking my steps or cloaking myself. Quentin needed to see me coming.
When I stood in front of his house, which seemed as pleasant and innocent as a docile kitten, I put my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrows. “I want to talk!” I shouted at the house.
A breeze rippled through the leaves on the nearby trees, but the house remained still. I waited, impatience throbbing inside me.
“Hello, Cordelia,” said a quiet voice behind me.
I whirled, my heart thundering, to find Quentin standing on the street next to me. No sound, no indication of how he’d appeared there.
Swallowing down my alarm, I faced him and lifted my chin. “I want to negotiate a truce.”
Quentin’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
I nodded. “I don’t want anyone else getting killed.”
Quentin’s mouth spread in a wide, feral smile that made my blood run cold. “Is that so.”
My instincts screamed at me to run, to get as far away from him as possible. But I shoved them down and said, “Yes.”
I withdrew a vial from my belt and held it up for him to see.
“My shadow elixir. Consider it a sign of good faith.” I tossed it to him, and he caught it easily, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized it.
“What makes you think I can’t make this myself?” he asked.
“I invented it. You can try, but it won’t be the same without my blood.”
His eyes glittered dangerously, and he pocketed the vial. “All right. I’ll listen. Name your terms.”
Keep him talking, Cora, I reminded myself. “I want my coven to stay out of it. No losses or casualties.”
Quentin arched an eyebrow. “Very well.”
“That includes Piper.”
His eyes flashed, and his jaw went rigid. He inhaled deeply through his nose. “And . . . what do you offer in return?”
“I offer myself. Go ahead and sacrifice me, Quentin. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Quentin cocked his head, scrutinizing me. I held perfectly still as if he were a lethal predator.
At long last, he whispered, “No.”
I frowned. “No what?”
“No, you wouldn’t just come here out of the blue and offer yourself up. You’re a fighter. You always have been.”
I stepped toward him, gritting my teeth. “You don’t know me. You may have heard stories about me, the Blade of Hinport, but things are different now. There are people I care about, and I have a responsibility to my coven. So don’t you dare presume this decision was made lightly. That I wouldn’t do this for my people.”
The words were the truth. I loved Vince—I loved my city, my coven—enough to make this sacrifice if it should come to it.
Quentin watched me, his dark eyes cold and calculating. Though my insides churned with anxiety and fear, I remained perfectly still, holding his gaze.
“Take it or leave it, Quentin,” I said. “If you don’t give me your word, I’m walking. I need to know my people will be safe.”
“Only my word?” he asked.
I shook my head. “A blood contract.”
Something unreadable flashed in his eyes. “You would sign a blood contract with me?”
Hell no. But I nodded.
Quentin inhaled deeply—and then shuddered. A ragged groan burst from him, and he sank to his knees. He looked around, his eyes wild, until he stared at me in accusation. “What—what have you done to me?”
I lifted my chin. “It wasn’t a shadow elixir I gave you. It was poisoned—set to activate with the absence of my body heat.” My eyes shifted to the pocket he’d put the vial in. It had only taken a few minutes for my blood in the elixir to activate my spell, sensing that I was no longer in close range.
“Impressive,” Quentin rasped.
I offered a cold smile. Then, I shouted, “Now!”
In a flash, my friends appeared: Benny, in wolf form, Pi
per, with black magic pooling from her hands, Vince, his dark wings spread behind him, and Dex, with his fangs extended and his red eyes gleaming.
Quentin clutched his side but managed a weak laugh. “An ambush. A trap. Oh, well done, Cordelia. I couldn’t have taught you better myself.”
I stiffened, bristling at the pride in his voice. Hatred boiled through me at the thought of doing something he approved of. Above us, thunder rumbled, promising the storm I’d known was coming.
I drew my dagger, and Quentin’s smile widened. “Are you going to kill me?” He choked out another laugh. “I’d be honored to become another one of your victims.”
I stepped toward him, brandishing my blade. “You can’t talk your way out of this, Quentin.”
I slashed the blade through his throat.
Purple blood gushed from the wound. Quentin gurgled, spitting up more blood, his teeth stained with it. I watched the liquid run down his neck, pooling onto his clothes and the ground.
Until . . . the blood stopped.
The purple fluid receded back into his body, and the wound sealed itself, leaving nothing behind but smooth skin.
Cold horror chilled my body, and I staggered back a step, numb with shock. “What—”
“You aren’t the only one with tricks up your sleeve,” Quentin said, rising to his feet. His face was ashen, and he swayed slightly—indicating my poison still worked. “You think I wouldn’t take a healing elixir before meeting you? Although, I must commend you for your ingenuity. How did you concoct a potion to withstand the effects of healing?”
I took several deep breaths, trying to calm the raging panic within me. How long does it take for a healing elixir to wear off? I mentally calculated, trying to remember.
Benny growled and lunged for Quentin, tackling him to the ground. Piper and Vince followed, their magic mingling to form a swirl of black and red that consumed Quentin entirely.
A high-pitched whine pierced the air, and my heart jolted. Benny.
Something inside me snapped into action, and I dived into the fray. Thick magic filled the air, making it hard to breathe. I sliced a hand through the air. Purple magic glowed, and a narrow beam of light shone through the red and black haze, lighting my way.