by R. L. Perez
I found Quentin poised over Benny with his hands pressed against the wolf’s throat. Under his grip, Benny went limp.
I roared with rage and sliced into Quentin’s shoulder, then again into his side. Quentin stiffened and cried out, releasing Benny. Piper slammed her magic into Quentin, knocking him backward. A small pop behind me made me whirl—to find Vince’s Mimic arriving to join us.
This new Vince wasn’t the scarred Vince I’d seen before. In fact, he wore the exact same clothes as my Vince. The two looked identical.
Which meant he’d come from the recent future.
I looked at my Vince, my eyes wide with surprise, and he offered a sly grin.
Together, we surrounded Quentin. He had nowhere to run. Even if he could heal, he couldn’t take us all on at once.
Quentin stood, his eyes wide as he stared at the Vince beside me . . . and then his Mimic on my other side. “Interesting,” he murmured.
I aimed a kick in the center of his chest, sending him flying. Then I pounced again. He couldn’t heal if I stopped his heart. All I needed was one well-timed blow . . .
Purple magic burst against me as Quentin fought back. I grunted against the pain searing through my chest and ducked, avoiding another slice of his magic. I threw myself against his legs, and we both collapsed.
“Dex, now!” I shouted as I pinned Quentin to the ground.
Dex hissed, his fangs long and sharp as he buried them into Quentin’s flesh, right at the base of his throat. Quentin screamed and then went still, his eyes wide and dazed as Dex drank from him. I watched, my knife raised just in case, but the longer Dex drank, the limper Quentin became.
Relief bloomed in my chest. It was over. It had to be.
Suddenly, Vince—both of them—bellowed in agony. They clutched at their heads, their faces contorted with pain.
“Vince,” I whispered, reaching for them. They both fell to their knees, their faces turning white.
Slowly, I faced Quentin, who now wore an insane smile. Though his eyes were clouded and his face had drained of color, he looked at me and winked.
“Dex, stop,” I ordered.
Dex withdrew with a groan, wiping purple blood from his lips. His own eyes gleamed with hunger and awe, and for a moment, I found myself wondering if Bloodcaster blood tasted much different.
Striding forward and trying to ignore Vince’s screams, I grabbed Quentin by the collar. “What are you doing to him?” I wanted to kill him right there, but I had no idea if killing him would stop Vince’s pain.
Quentin laughed, the sound hoarse and feeble. Slowly, the puncture wounds on his throat healed, but I knew the blood loss would linger. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I stole magic from the Astral Realm—the very realm your boyfriend is tethered to. Of course I would use that to my advantage. Now, you get to watch while he dies.”
31
Vince
Agony split through me. A searing ringing burned against my ears until I was sure my eardrums would burst. Beside me, a small pop told me my Mimic had vanished.
Good, I thought. It means he’s safe—I’m safe in the future.
Which also meant I would survive this.
Something powerful coursed through my veins. Something familiar. A knowing. An instinct. What had once been a faint feeling now blazed inside me like a door had been thrown open. Light shone within me, piercing through the pain in my head. The ringing subsided.
All I saw was that brilliant yellow light, brighter than the sun. For one wild moment, I thought the sky had cleared, making way for the sun to break through—but then another crack of thunder split the air. Faint raindrops spattered on my face.
My senses returned, and I made out Cora’s screams. My insides quivered at the sound.
“Please,” Cora begged. “Quentin, stop!”
“I want what you promised me,” Quentin said, staggering to his feet. “Give yourself up, Cordelia, and I’ll spare him.”
I searched within myself, looking for my Reaper magic—but instead, I found a steady stream of gold light flowing within me.
Somehow, I knew what it was: the timeline.
Cora was on her knees in front of Quentin. Tears flowed down her face as she nodded.
She was surrendering to Quentin.
For me.
I lunged. But instead of my magic reaching out, the timeline reached out, and I traveled. I went backward five minutes to when my Mimic had first appeared.
The presence of the timeline inside me was firm and powerful. It fueled me as I fought alongside myself and the others against Quentin. My presence here closed the loop I’d created. Just like before, there were two Vinces fighting—but this time, I was the second one.
Together, we surrounded Quentin. Then Dex drank from him. When Quentin lashed out with his powers from the Astral Realm, I knew what I had to do.
I crouched over and howled in agony, pretending to be consumed by the power of Quentin’s Reaper magic. But the timeline had healed me . . . somehow. I felt nothing but calm.
No shrill ringing. No splitting pain in my head. Whatever side effects had crippled me before, whatever symptoms I’d endured being in the wrong realm, they were gone. It felt like I was an entirely new person.
It felt so freeing.
Pretending to stagger, I teetered forward until I was just behind Quentin. Then, I pressed a hand to his shoulder.
The timeline within me swelled, sensing something that shouldn’t be there. Something that needed to be fixed.
The others were too preoccupied with my Mimic’s screaming to notice me. Even Quentin, still lying there in front of Dex, focused all of his energy on the other Vince. No one paid me any attention.
I closed my eyes, pinpointing the source, the malady I felt the urge to correct. I found a huge, red presence within Quentin. The Reaper magic.
Come to me, I ordered. Slowly. Carefully.
Red magic seeped from Quentin, one drop at a time.
And I inhaled all of it. It swelled within me like a living thing, and I felt enlarged. Like my body was expanding to make room for it.
So much power dwelled inside me. My Reaper magic, my Teleportation abilities, the timeline, and now this—the reservoir of magic Quentin had stolen from the Astral Realm. I took several deep breaths, crying out in false pain every now and then to avoid arousing suspicion.
The transition was so slow that Quentin didn’t notice. No one noticed as the last of the Reaper magic drained from Quentin’s body.
When I finished, I spun in place with a pop and arrived right where I’d left. Right as Cora was nodding at her father, giving herself over to him.
“You want to try that again, Quentin?” I challenged.
Cora blinked and stared at me, her eyes wide. Quentin cocked his head at me, his eyes narrowing.
I raised my arms. “Go ahead. Kill me.”
“Vince—” Cora cried.
Quentin only laughed. “You’ve got balls. I can respect that. But it’ll be the death of you.” His stare intensified, and I felt magic prickling along my skin.
But nothing happened.
Quentin’s head reared back, his mouth falling open. His eyes went vacant, and I knew he was searching within himself for what wasn’t there—the magic I’d stolen from him.
“You—you—”Quentin stepped toward me, his eyes full of rage.
Cora was on her feet again, a dagger in each hand as she blocked Quentin’s path to me. “Take another step,” she said through clenched teeth.
Benny twitched, and a growl built in his throat as he slowly climbed onto all fours. Behind me, Piper edged closer, though I felt her hesitation. She feared Quentin.
I couldn’t blame her.
Quentin looked uncertain as we surrounded him and drew closer. Then, his eyes fell on me with sudden realization. “You’re Cecile’s son.”
I stiffened, my entire body going still. How does he know that?
Quentin grinned. “The son of a powerful
Nephilim queen . . . and my daughter’s lover.” His gaze shifted to Cora, and a disturbing hunger glinted in his eyes.
Cora looked at me, the blood draining from her face. And I saw what she saw: leverage. Weakness.
If Quentin had me, he could coerce her into doing anything. We’d just seen it happen. Cora would’ve sacrificed herself to save me.
Quentin chuckled. Then, a burst of purple magic filled the air, concealing him from view. Cora slashed her hand through the fog, clearing the way so we could reach Quentin—
But when the air cleared, he was gone.
“Dammit!” Cora roared, flinging her knives to the ground. “How—how does he keep vanishing like that?” She whirled, her eyes ablaze as she stared at Piper, who stood a good five feet away from us. “And what the hell are you doing over there?”
Piper’s mouth opened and closed, her face pale and her lower lip quivering. “I—I’m sorry.”
But my mind snagged on something Quentin had said. You’re Cecile’s son.
He’d known my mother.
“Cora,” I said urgently. “We need to get back to the coven. Now.”
Urgency flowed through my veins, gripping me tightly and making me impatient as I took turns Jumping back to the coven with Cora, Benny, and Piper. Dex insisted on walking on foot, even as rain poured from the clouds above. But I got the impression he enjoyed it. After all, he couldn’t often walk around in the daytime. Perhaps being out here—even in the pouring rain—was a relief for him.
But as I Jumped back again and again, not trusting myself to Jump everyone at once, all I could think about was Mom.
You’re Cecile’s son.
Mom had offered herself up as the vessel. For me. She’d known having my choice taken away would kill me. So she’d done it herself.
When would I wake up and stop letting people take the fall for me? My selfishness, my closed-mindedness, made me sick. How could I have been so blind?
I’d been so concerned with my own life—my freedom to make choices and live the way I wanted to—that I didn’t bother thinking about other people. Jocelyn had chosen to become a Reaper because of me. Dad had given up his life of magic because of me. Cora had exposed her coven to Quentin because of me.
It was time for me to do the same. To sacrifice for others. To make that choice for myself.
Benny was the last one for me to Jump. When we arrived, I burst into the hotel lobby and climbed the stairs two at a time, desperate to get to Mom’s room and ensure she was all right.
She didn’t answer when I pounded furiously on the door. But with my frantic knocking, another door down the hall opened, and Gwen peered out, her eyes narrowing. When she saw me, her face slackened.
“In here.” She jerked her head to invite me in.
I obeyed, entering Gwen’s room to find Jocelyn, Mom, and Gwen hovering over a bowl of potion ingredients. A small gold amulet in the shape of an angel wing rested inside the bowl. It was already emitting an eerie red glow.
“Is everyone all right?” I panted, clutching at a stitch in my side from racing up all those stairs.
Mom’s brow furrowed as she looked me over. “Yes, we’re fine. What happened, Vince?”
I dropped my head and sucked in several deep breaths. The Reapers didn’t know what Cora and I had just attempted. They didn’t know we’d almost ruined everything.
“Quentin Cox knows you,” I said, meeting my mom’s gaze. “He identified me as your son.”
Mom’s face paled, and she exchanged a glance with Gwen, who stared at me, her expression severe. “How do you know this?”
“I just saw him. We almost had him, but—”
“Of all the idiotic things,” Gwen hissed, stepping toward me, her fingers curling into fists. “When will you learn—”
“I know!” I shouted over her, but my eyes remained on my mom. “You can yell at me later. But I need to know, Mom: how do you know Quentin?”
The room fell silent. All of us stared at Mom expectantly. I held my breath as her expression turned grim.
“Years ago, I knew a Second Tier dark warlock,” Mom said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He threatened the clan. We dispatched armies to intercept him, but he got away each time.” She took a breath. “The more he evaded us, the stronger he became. He rallied forces alongside him. Light covens turned on us, fearing the power he possessed.”
Gwen suddenly gasped. “The Demon War.”
My heart lurched, and my eyes snapped to Gwen. “Are you—are you saying Quentin started the Demon War?” My voice was hushed.
Mom nodded slowly. “Well, not directly. But he put everything in place for it. Everything we needed to be defeated.”
“And Hector?”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t know how much he knew. Or who he was working with. He aligned himself with some demons, but it’s possible he didn’t know Quentin.”
Like hell he didn’t. Hector had connections everywhere. He had to know Quentin. Or at least know of him.
“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Gwen snapped.
“I didn’t think it was important,” Mom said, her voice rising. “And I didn’t even know it was the same person until recently.”
“If he had enough power and foresight to start the Demon War . . .” Jocelyn said in a whisper.
“Then he’s a lot stronger and smarter than we feared,” Gwen said.
I looked at Mom. Her gaze locked onto me, her face stricken with terror. Like Cora, Mom knew what Quentin would do. He would use me against them. And after Mom offered herself to be the Reapers’ vessel in my place, I knew she would do anything to protect me.
I swallowed and turned to Gwen. “Let me be the vessel. I made a target of myself by seeking out Quentin. Now he knows me, and he’ll try to use me as leverage. For Mom and for Cora. I can’t let that happen.”
Silence fell in the room. Jocelyn stiffened, her eyes wide. Mom closed her eyes, her expression filled with regret.
But Gwen stared me down, as if waiting for me to change my mind. “Are you certain?” she asked slowly.
I nodded.
“Can your Thinker friend handle this?”
I nodded again, feeling confident that even if Luke wasn’t as powerful as Benny, our bond certainly was.
Gwen sighed. “Very well.”
“No,” Mom said, stepping forward, her eyes pleading as she looked at me. “Vince, please.”
“Quentin likes toying with his enemies,” I said. “He’ll lure you out. Play games with you. He enjoys tormenting people, Mom.” I closed my eyes as anger and fear clawed at my insides. “I can’t let him do that to you. Or to Cora. I can’t let him use me to torture you.”
“You have no idea what you’re giving up. We don’t even know how long you’ll be trapped in there. It could be years.”
“I’ve made a mess of things since I got here,” I said in a broken voice. “Most of this is my fault, anyway. Let me fix this.”
Mom shook her head. “Quentin was attacking our realm even before you became a Reaper.”
“But I made it worse,” I said. I took her hands in both of mine. “Please let me do this. Let me make this choice for you. For all of you.” I looked at Jocelyn, trying to convey the apology and regret in my gaze. Her eyes softened, and she pressed her lips together.
A deep thrumming pulsed in the room. The bowl of potion ingredients rattled. Every pair of eyes moved to stare at the bowl as the red glow intensified and then slowly faded.
Gwen was the first to break the silence. “It’s done.” Her voice was soft and hushed. “Any Reaper who touches this will be drained of their magic.” Her eyes shifted to me. “If Vince wears this, he will hold all of the Reaper magic.”
Something churned inside me as if coming to life, reaching for the amulet. I took a step forward. “And if I touch it?”
“It will take your Reaper magic too.”
I swallowed. That presence still stirred in my chest. And w
ith a jolt, I realized what it was: Quentin’s magic that he’d stolen from our realm. It still lived inside me.
I’d completely forgotten.
My eyes watered from the intensity buzzing within me. My body lurched forward of its own accord until my fingers curled around the cold amulet.
“Vince, no—” Mom shouted.
Too late.
As soon as I touched it, I breathed deeply as if my lungs had been cut off until now. As if I’d never breathed before. The power inside me seeped out, funneling into the amulet. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting—but it certainly wasn’t relief.
I thought I’d feel empty. But instead, I felt free. Unrestrained. Like a weight had been removed from my chest.
I took several deep breaths, blinking tears from my eyes as I gazed around the room. It wasn’t until I noticed Mom’s face, slack with shock and hurt, that I realized I was smiling.
“Vince—” Gwen said weakly. I’d never heard her sound like that.
I blinked at her. “What?” Then, I looked down and found my entire body glowed red. I yelped and staggered backward in shock. As I watched, the redness receded until I was no longer glowing.
My breathing turned sharp. “What—what was that?”
“Where did you get that much magic?” Mom whispered.
“From Quentin.”
“How?” Gwen demanded, the sharpness returning to her voice.
My mouth opened and closed. I wasn’t sure how much to say. Something inside me warned me not to utter the truth about the timeline living inside me. That they wouldn’t understand.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I just touched him, and . . . the power came into me.”
“You reaped,” Gwen said, her eyes wide.
A stunned silence rippled over the room. Even Jocelyn’s face had turned white, though she looked almost as confused as I felt.
“How?” I asked, my voice barely a croak. “I—I don’t even know how!”
“Most Reapers train for weeks before they can fully access their abilities,” Mom said quietly. Her eyes were full of awe and . . . pride. But also sorrow.
Because I’d just given it all up. Whatever potential I showed as a Reaper had been sucked into that amulet. And the blissful freedom I felt inside me roared at the thought of being tethered to the red magic again. Of being restrained.