Timecaster Chronicles: Timecaster Chronicles

By R.L. Perez

A fall through time. A reckless witch. A war of monsters.

17-year-old witch Desiree Campbell tries to cast a spell to go to Miami for spring break.

But she ends up in Cuba a hundred years in the past.

The year is 1898. The Spanish-American War rages. Demons thrive in the city, preying on humans. Desi is caught between the war of mortals and the war of monsters.

In her efforts to return home, she is hunted by a demon vampire who is desperate to learn the secret to time travel.

Then Desi meets Oliver Gerrick, a handsome American soldier and warlock. He offers to help her fight off demons and find a way home. But the closer Desi gets to Oliver, the more secrets she uncovers . . . and the harder she falls for him.

Dive into the Timecaster Chronicles, and follow Desi's journey from Cuba to the Philippines to New York City as she faces love, death, and the darkest magic imaginable.

Timecaster Chronicles
Book 1: Twisted by Time
Book 2: Devoured by Darkness
Book 3: Bound by Blood

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.L. Perez
• Release date: Apr 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781955035408

Book preview

Timecaster ChroniclesHalf Title

CONTENTS

Twisted by Time

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Devoured by Darkness

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Bound by Blood

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by R.L. Perez

TIMECASTER CHRONICLES

Copyright © 2020 R.L. Perez

All rights reserved.

Published by Willow Haven Press 2020

United States of America

No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

Cover Art by Blue Raven Book Covers

ISBN: 978-1-955035-40-8

www.rlperez.com

TWISTED BY TIME

BOOK ONE

For Alex, the Cuban who stole my heart.

CHAPTER 1

The chill of nightfall tickled my arms as I ran my fingers through José’s shoulder-length, black hair. His eyes closed, and he smiled with lazy contentment.

"How do you keep it so smooth?" I asked.

Ancient Cuban secret.

I snorted.

He means ‘ancient Cuban shampoo,’ Mia drawled from beside me, taking another swig of the liquor we’d passed around. She squinted at José. It doesn’t look that smooth to me. Her speech was slurred, and she swayed into Cameron, who sat next to her.

I eyed her and pressed my lips together. She’s had too much to drink. I forced a laugh. You’re clearly too drunk to see properly. I tried to take the bottle from her hand, but she waved it away from me.

Yeah, Mia, ease up. Don’t overdo it. Cameron snatched the bottle and took a sip. He offered it to me, but I shook my head, wrinkling my nose.

Oh, please, Mia said a little too loudly. With my powers, I’m unstoppable. She burped, and a sharp, musty stench assaulted my nostrils.

My arms and legs itched to move and stretch. I dropped my hand from José’s head and slid off the park bench, bending at the waist and touching my toes.

Uh-oh, she’s doing yoga again, José said with a chuckle.

Cameron set the bottle of liquor on the concrete and ruffled his long, blond curls. Relax, Desi. Mia’s the only one wasted. We can protect her if we need to.

I am relaxed. I feel nothing but Zen right now. I gripped the ends of my flats and glanced along the sidewalk. As dusk fell, the surrounding neighbors disappeared into their homes, and an eerie silence settled around the park. The swings nearby creaked ominously with the brisk spring wind. The small city of North Grove, Wisconsin didn’t see warm weather until almost summer.

I suppressed a shiver. We should really get home soon. I may turn in early. All that Chinese food is making me feel bloated.

José groaned loudly. Desi, you are such a drag.

"Maybe we should go, Cameron said, his brown eyes widening as he glanced around the empty park. There have been a lot of demon attacks lately."

José waved a hand. The four of us are the most powerful witches and warlocks around. Nobody will mess with us.

Irritation prickled through me. I stretched to downward-facing dog, and the pull of my muscles soothed my agitated nerves. Deep breaths washed over me, bringing the sense of peace and tranquility that I longed for.

Tell that to Levarret, Cameron said. Levarret was the strongest known demon lord, and the flux of magical violence in the area was largely due to his growth of power. Oh, and he also killed my parents. Needless to say, I wasn’t fond of him, even if I didn’t care enough to try and stop him.

Not this again, José said in a sleepy voice. Levarret only targets powerful Hunters. We’re nobodies. Why would he send his minions after us? We’re no threats to him.

So first we’re the most powerful witches and warlocks around, and now we’re nobodies who aren’t threats? Cameron snapped.

He might be a little wasted, too, I said in a stage whisper, straightening to smirk at them.

Mia cackled, and José uttered an incoherent noise of protest.

I spun on my toe in a pirouette, transitioning effortlessly into my ballet routine. Though the absence of music made it more difficult to lose myself in the dance, it still soothed me like a massage. My torso twisted, my legs kicked, and I spun and floated like a leaf in the wind. The jeers of my friends floated away into nothingness. It was just me and the dance.

Desiree Campbell, you’d better have an excellent reason for being out this late, a voice chastised in my head, bringing my blissful dance to a grinding halt.

Frack, I muttered.

Feathers ruffled, and a black raven appeared on the sidewalk in front of us. It cocked its head accusingly at me. My Familiar, Kismet.

I’m leaving now, Kismet, I assured her.

Your friends should leave too, Kismet said. It isn’t safe.

Guys, let’s go, I said unenthusiastically. Kiz is here.

The group groaned collectively and shuffled to their feet. Mia stumbled, but Cameron caught her by the shoulders.

Where are their Familiars? Kismet demanded.

How should I know? I said, tucking my brown flyaway curls back behind my ears. Another gust of wind whipped at my face, tousling them wildly again. I dropped my hand, giving up. My unruly curls refused to be tamed. On a good day, they looked perfect and styled with no effort involved. But add wind or humidity, and I was a hot mess.

Kismet tilted her head toward Mia. What’s wrong with her?

Nothing, I said quickly.

Kismet hopped up and down more urgently. She’s drunk! Have you been drinking? Are you insane?

I haven’t been drinking! I shouted.

Be quiet! José complained. Cameron shoved his shoulder.

Your parents would be ashamed of you, Kismet said.

You can lecture me at home, Kiz, I said, tightening my jacket around my chest.

Shut up! José hissed. Something was odd about his voice. It was shrill. Serious. Frightened.

My head snapped up in alarm as a low growl reached my ears. My heart stopped.

A large, dark shape approached from the shadows. It crept forward on giant paws, its claws glistening with blood. A long snout came into view, followed by the keen eyes of a predator.

A werewolf.

It rose on its haunches, back arched and fur standing on end. Its long, sharp fangs were bared and covered in blood. Its eager eyes drifted over each of us as if assessing who would taste better.

My breath caught in my throat. Kismet nervously hopped from one foot to the next. Cameron gasped audibly, but Mia stumbled forward. The idiot.

Come get me, wolf! she jeered.

Mia, don’t! I shouted, my voice shaking.

I can handle it! Mia’s red cheeks pinched with her cocky grin.

The wolf’s large black eyes fixed hungrily on Mia. It bounded forward.

No! I screamed.

I raised my hands and Pushed. My magic slammed into the wolf, and it soared backward several feet. With a yelp, it rolled down the sidewalk.

Get Mia out of here! I yelled at José.

José wrapped his arm around Mia’s waist and spun in place. He and Mia spiraled until they became a blur. Then with a tiny pop they disappeared completely.

I glanced at Cameron. He looked at me with wide eyes, his arms trembling at his side.

Something lodged itself in my throat, like cold fingers gripping and clawing at me from within. I swallowed and held up my hands as the wolf approached, its eyes bloodthirsty and manic.

It leaped toward me, and I Pushed again. It ducked its head and rolled sideways to avoid my magic. I swung my arms around, trying to catch the wolf in my force, but it was smart. It evaded my movements until it stood a few feet away from me. Its foul breath blew in my face, and its fangs glinted in the moonlight.

Why? I growled at it. It’s not a full moon. You can’t Turn me.

The wolf’s mouth stretched wide, as if grinning at me. Terror coursed through me, and my blood ran cold. It didn’t care. It wasn’t here to Turn anyone—just to feast.

A blaze of fire burst next to me, lighting up the park. The wolf flinched away with a whimper. I squinted at Cameron, who held a ball of fire in his hands. He launched it forward into the wolf, which howled in agony as it tumbled away.

Run, Cameron urged.

We sprinted down the sidewalk, away from the danger. Kismet flew above us, her wings flapping wildly. The cold air bit against my lungs as I gasped for breath and pushed my legs farther and faster.

A huge, black shape appeared in front of us. I screamed, and we jerked to a stop in front of the wolf. Smoke rose from its charred wound, and it licked its teeth maliciously.

My blood turned to ice in my veins. How did it get there so quickly?

The wolf barreled forward and swiped a paw. His claws tore through Cameron’s arm. Cameron screamed and fell to the sidewalk.

With a roar of fury I Pushed the wolf into the trunk of a tree. Again. And again. And again. It howled and whimpered until it fell silent.

I dropped my shaking hands, staring at the form of the limp wolf until I was certain it wouldn’t rise. Then I rushed to Cameron’s side. Blood soaked his shirt, and his eyes rolled back.

Kismet, I said urgently.

Kismet appeared beside me and glowed blue. The blue light intensified until the raven disappeared. A tall, blond woman in jeans and a T-shirt appeared in its place. She approached Cameron and covered his wound with her hands. Her eyes closed, and she muttered an incantation that was unfamiliar to me.

A growl echoed behind me. I stiffened, my heart racing in terror. Puffs of cold air blew out of my mouth.

The wolf stumbled forward. Mud, dirt, and blood caked its fur, but here it was. Ready for more.

"Just die!" I shrieked. I threw my arms forward, but it leaped to avoid the assault. It tackled me to the sidewalk. Claws and teeth ripped through my clothes and skin. A deep agony pierced my side, and I screamed.

A blast of blue magic surrounded me, encasing me in a warm glow. The pain in my side throbbed and festered. Kismet’s magic lifted the wolf into the air. Her face distorted with rage, and she twisted her fingers until the wolf spun sickeningly in the air. Then she clenched her fingers into tight fists. With a large boom, the wolf vanished. An ethereal wind rippled through me, and the stench of burning flesh tickled my nostrils.

Silence fell.

Nervous, I glanced around for the wolf, but it was gone.

Pain engulfed me. I swayed as the wound in my side throbbed.

Kiz . . . I muttered, dazed.

Then I collapsed.

A sharp aroma stung my nose until I jerked upright. I winced as my head prickled with pain, but my side felt fine. I glanced down at my bloodied shirt and peeled it off my waist to reveal a smooth stretch of skin. Kismet must’ve healed me.

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind me.

I glanced around and realized I was sitting on the couch in my living room. Kismet—in human form—stood by the couch, holding a jar of angelica, which was undoubtedly used to heal me. She set down the jar and crossed her arms over her chest, her blue eyes flashing with fury.

You’re still in human form? I asked, raising an eyebrow. My eyes darted to the clock and then back to her. You have, what, ten minutes left?

It’s worth it, she hissed. This is important. She dropped her arms. What were you thinking?

Okay, first of all, I interrupted, I wasn’t drinking. And second, I was trying to go home! It wasn’t my fault a werewolf showed up.

You and your friends could have died because you were so careless.

You’re right, I said, stretching my hands palms out as I tried to appease her. But we didn’t.

Desi, you didn’t even know how to banish the wolf! You would’ve played your little game of tag until it ripped you to shreds. Cameron would’ve bled out and died.

I know! I said, my voice rising. We would’ve died without your help. I get it. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. My throat burned. She was right—I royally screwed up. But why didn’t you just banish the wolf the minute it got there?

My job is to teach you, Desi. I thought you could handle it. I was wrong.

I groaned. Well, we can’t all be you, Kiz. All hail the glorified criminal in raven form. I bit my lip. I shouldn’t have said that.

Kismet’s eyes darkened. Don’t you dare. I’m serving my time. I’ve been with you for seventeen years. I practically raised you.

It’s kind of hard to raise a kid when you’re a raven twenty-three hours a day.

That’s not the point, Desi! The point is, you need to trust me and take these magical threats seriously! What would your parents think? I doubt they’d be beaming with pride at the thought of their daughter out drinking when she should be learning to protect herself.

Oh yeah, like they did? I laughed without humor. A lot of good that did them in the end.

Kismet sighed and placed her fingers over her temples. "I’m not saying you have to train to hunt demons like they did, Desi. But you should at least show up for your studies. That’s why I’m here, and once you turn eighteen, you’ll have no one else to train you. You haven’t even mastered Pulling objects with your magic yet. Let me help you."

I rubbed my arms. What’s the point of studying magic if I plan to pursue ballet?

"We’ve been over this. You need to strengthen your abilities first. If ballet is that important to you, you can pursue it later in life, but now is the time to harness your powers because—"

Because in two months, you’ll be gone, I said in a monotone, rolling my eyes. Well, I’ve been on my own for five years now, so what else is new?

Kismet dropped her arms against her legs in exasperation. "I’ve been here your whole life, Desi! You have never been alone."

Something snapped within me, and my nostrils flared. You’ve been here out of obligation, Kismet. Not by choice. The only people here by choice were my parents, and they’re gone. Soon, you will be, too.

Kismet’s angry expression softened, but I tore my gaze away from her. I didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes. I saw it constantly from everyone who found out my parents were dead. Everyone except Cameron, Mia, and José. They didn’t care. They didn’t treat me like a sob story who needed comfort. They were real around me, even if they were slackers who liked too much alcohol.

Just . . . avoid drinking, okay? Kismet said softly. Never put yourself in a position—

—where you aren’t in control of your powers, I finished with a nod. Dad had said that all the time. I know.

Kismet sighed and stepped closer to me. Her warm hand found mine, and she offered a tentative smile. I may have been sentenced to be your Familiar, but it’s impossible to be around you for so many years and not love you, Desi.

I nodded again. A dam burst in my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. I sniffed and cleared my throat. I’ll be more careful next time, I promised. I slipped away and darted into my room before my emotions drowned me.

Hovering near the door, I heard Kismet groan softly. Then a blue glow emanated from the living room, and a flutter of feathers indicated her hour was up.

I leaned my head against the door. Though I could still talk to her, I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth: that I planned to run away from the magical world forever.

CHAPTER 2

A burst of blue light. Mom sobbing. Kismet uttering an incantation.

Desi, wake up! You’re okay. You’re okay. Just wake up! Mom begged.

My eyelids slid open. Pain flared in my head. I looked from my mom’s tear-stained face to Kismet’s panicked expression and blinked, confused. I shifted and realized I was lying on concrete. A streetlamp glowed against the midnight sky, illuminating our street with an ominous mustard-colored tint.

What happened? Kismet asked.

My head throbbed as I tried to sit up. A noise woke me. Someone grabbed me. I tried to scream, but everything went black. Then . . . I woke up here.

Kismet and Mom looked at each other, brows furrowed. No demands? No threats or ransom? Mom asked.

Kismet shrugged, frowning as she glanced back at me. Then her face slackened and drained of color. It’s a diversion.

Mom’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Oh, no . . . Peter!

Before I could say anything, Mom flung open the front door and ran back into the house. Kismet rubbed my shoulders, but I felt only numbness. Confusion. Pain.

Then Mom screamed, and I knew something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

A bleep on my computer woke me. Reality slammed into me as I opened my eyes, my chest rising and falling with rapid, terrified breaths. I shook the recurring nightmare from my mind and wiped the tears off my cheeks. This is real. This is real. I blinked sleepily and shoved my brown curls out of my face. With a groan, I slid out of bed and stumbled to the computer, squinting at the instant message from José.

sexycubano82: hey! you aren’t answering your cell.

I yawned and glanced at my cell phone. José had called three times while I’d slept. I slid out the keyboard and typed my response.

dizzydezzy: out of minutes. call me after 9.

sexycubano82: noooo! I have news. you free?

dizzydezzy: yeah, come on over.

I pulled a sweater over my tank top just before a small pop alerted me to José’s arrival.

José flashed me a cocky grin and slumped comfortably onto my bed.

"So, bella. He ran a hand through his hair. Want to hear my news?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. I’m fine, by the way. So is Cameron.

José waved a hand and blew a raspberry with his lips. I knew you would be.

It should have irritated me more that he hadn’t feared for my life. But I shrugged and looked at him expectantly.

Abuela offered me her beach house for spring break. José’s eager grin stretched across his face.

My eyes widened as I sat next to him on the bed. In Miami?

José nodded. You in? Cameron and Mia are coming too. Their parents bought them plane tickets.

My heart sank. I was barely getting by off the life insurance money from my parents, and Kismet kept nagging me to find a job before I turned eighteen so I could take care of myself. She was technically a convicted felon, so she couldn’t exactly foot the bill for me.

I don’t have the money, I said lamely.

José groaned. Don’t be like that. I can’t go without my girl! He twirled my fingers in his.

Can’t you just take me with you?

José grimaced. Not that far, babe. Other Jumpers probably could, but I haven’t been practicing.

I bit back a remark about his lazy attitude because, well, I was lazy with my magic, too. Instead I forced a smile on my face. You’ll still have a good time without me.

José brought my fingers to his lips. Come on, Desi. You’re an impressive witch. Maybe there’s some magical way for you to get there?

My brows creased as I fixed a flat stare at him. "I’m a Pusher, José. What do you want me to do, Push a bus from here to there?"

José dropped my hand and shrugged. Cameron mentioned something about a Teleportation spell in the Grimoire.

It’s probably really complicated.

Get Kiz to help you.

I snorted. "She’s not likely to help whisk me away to Miami where I’m bound to not practice my magic."

José sighed and sat up, his dark eyes serious. "Listen, Desi. You need to get away. Abuela says the magical crime rate is way low right now. Levarret is targeting the northern states, which is why it’s so bad in North Grove. No one knows why, but he’s here. Not there. Won’t it be nice to have some non-magic fun and not worry about getting attacked by demons?"

Non-magic fun. That was the best kind. My heart thrummed with excitement. The last time I had some carefree fun was that New Year’s party.

José grinned mischievously. "Our first kiss. That was a big deal, yeah? Not many people get to say their relationship started with a new millennium."

I chuckled. Not many people thought we’d all still be here after the millennium. Crazy mortals.

Crazy, yes. But still so amusing to be around. José stood and paced around my room, running his fingers along the desk I never used. He rubbed two fingers together, and dust particles trickled from his hand. With one eyebrow arched, he looked at me with a smirk, his eyes darting to the desk.

José froze, his hand still poised in the air as his eyes fell to something on the desk. What’s this? He lifted an unopened envelope and waved it at me, his eyebrows raised.

Flames spread along my cheeks, and I bounded to my feet to snatch it from his hands. He easily lifted it above his head, beyond my reach.

Give it back! I laughed and stood on my tiptoes, my hand stretching to grab it.

José gazed up at the envelope, squinting as he tried to read the return address. His eyes widened. This is from the Miami City Ballet! Why haven’t you opened it yet?

I dropped my arms, abandoning my efforts. I don’t know. I picked at my fingernails, avoiding his prying eyes. What if it’s a rejection? My stomach twisted.

I felt José’s eyes still on me, so I forced another grin. "Maybe I was hoping you’d open it for me!" My smile widened and I batted my eyelashes at him, clasping my hands together like a helpless damsel in distress.

José’s eyebrows lowered, his lips pressing together in a long, flat line. After rolling his eyes, he tore open the envelope. My heart raced as I bit my nails, watching his eyes fly back and forth across the paper. The seconds dragged on. My stomach dropped and lifted like a roller coaster.

His eyes widened and his brows flew to his hairline. A huge smile broke across his face. My heart leapt to my throat, and I choked out a gasp, covering my mouth.

You got in! he shouted, dropping the letter to wrap me in a tight hug.

I squealed, then laughed and kissed his cheek. We broke apart and I jumped up and down. I got in! I got in!

"Babe, this is perfect! Now you can come to Miami and just stay with my abuela until the summer program starts."

My smile faltered. Right . . . How do I get to Miami without flying or driving? My body sagged, the excitement ebbing as my heart plummeted to my knees.

José groaned. Don’t be like that. You can find a way, Desi.

I said nothing. When it had been just spring break, that was one thing. But the Miami City Ballet accepted me into their summer intensive program. With any luck, from there I could join the ballet company and travel the world doing what I loved most. How could I not find a way to make my dream come true? To finally escape the magical world forever.

Besides, José and I had talked about dropping out of school and getting our GEDs anyway. I had planned to run away; I just didn’t have the means to do it.

Until now.

I bit my lip. Let me see what I can do. When do you leave?

This afternoon.

Frack. That didn’t give me very much time.

I’ll pop in before I leave, ‘kay? José kissed my cheek again before he spun in place and vanished with a pop.

I stared at the spot of carpet he had occupied only seconds before. How strange it was that my boyfriend had been here, lounging on my bed, and I’d felt…nothing. No heat. No self-consciousness over my too-small shorts and generous curves. I was the type of girl who looked okay from a distance, but if I tilted my chin down or slouched in my chair, the fat rolls emerged in all their glory. As a kid, it had bothered me being among the stick-thin ballerinas. But now I’d embraced it. And though I loved that José didn’t mind, for a while now, I hadn’t cared what he thought about me.

Whatever, I thought, lifting my right leg high in the air. I grasped my big toe and held the position. The pull and strain of my muscles soothed me, and my concerns eased. I’m still young. It’s not like I’m looking for true love right now anyway. Besides, it was better to feel nothing than everything. I learned that the hard way after Mom and Dad died.

I stretched the other leg and grasped my big toe again, breathing deeply. I can do this.

I dropped my foot and slid open the door to my bedroom. In the living room, Kismet’s wings fluttered in her sleep as she perched on her favorite spot—the arm of the couch. Miraculously, José’s and my exclamations hadn’t woken her.

I chewed on my fingernails thoughtfully. I crept downstairs and tiptoed past the sleeping raven until I reached the junk room—or rather, the room full of my parents’ junk that I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of. After another nervous glance in Kismet’s direction, I softly closed the door behind me.

The room reeked of dust and memories. Boxes upon boxes surrounded me, as well as ugly furniture that Mom insisted on keeping for sentimental reasons. I’d made fun of her for it so many times, but in the end, I had the same problem.

I sat cross-legged on the floor and got to work. Careful not to fall down the rabbit hole of Memory Lane, I shoved past scrapbooks, old clothes, CDs and cassettes, movies, and baby toys until I found a box of books. My fingers coated in dust, I dug through the box, past Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, until I finally found it—the Grimoire.

It was a huge, thick, leather-bound book that thrummed with energy as soon as I touched it, vibrating through my fingers to my very bones. I swallowed, my throat dry, as I lifted it from the box. There was no title on the cover, but I knew exactly what it was. Kismet always said I wasn’t ready for the Grimoire, and judging by how my fingers shook from the power emanating from it, I believed her.

I flipped to the table of contents, my heart racing. I scanned past the list of demons: werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and dark casters.

I suppressed a shudder. After performing blood rituals and black magic, a witch or warlock changed from light to dark, which transformed them into a demon. Deep down, I knew that not all demons were bad. Some abided by the law and kept to their own covens. Those who rebelled and actively hunted innocents were the ones who made things a problem.

At long last, I found sections for each type of magic: Thinkers, Seers, Pushers, Jumpers, and Elementals. I quickly flipped to the Jumper section, although it used the fancier term of Teleporters. After several pages, I finally found it—the spell for teleportation and transportation.

I frowned. Weren’t those the same thing?

My fingers hovered over the ingredients. Most of them were available in our collection, but I would have to ask Mia for some of the more complex ones. Her mother was a healer and had access to all kinds of herbs.

I scanned the conditions for the spell, and my heart sank. This spell requires a significant amount of power. It can only be performed during a magical surge, such as a magical event or when a magical being collects power.

I blinked and looked up from the text, my brow furrowing. A magical event? My knowledge of my own magic was limited enough, let alone my knowledge of the calendar of witchy holidays. I vaguely remembered various celebrations of solstices and equinoxes—some I’d tried to scrub from my memory as they involved a rather embarrassing memory of me dancing naked under the full moon.

What are you doing? Kismet’s voice rang in my head.

I yelped and dropped the book with a loud thunk. I turned my head at the light tapping on the door. I groaned and stood, my legs numb from sitting in a cramped space for so long. I opened the door to find the raven cocking her head at me. I was surprised her wings weren’t crossed.

The Grimoire? Kismet’s voice was quiet but dangerous. What are you doing with that?

My heart racing, I said quickly, I realized you’re right. I don’t know how to defend myself. So—so I was trying to find the spell to banish demons. For my own protection.

Kismet stared at me unblinkingly. Not for the first time, I longed for her human form where at least body language was my ally in the conversation. Under her scrutinous raven gaze, I was powerless. I clenched my fingers into fists to keep from fidgeting.

Why didn’t you just ask me? Her voice was gentle and curious.

You were sleeping.

I could almost hear her eye roll. And why didn’t you wait for me to wake up?

I—I was still kind of ashamed. And embarrassed. After what happened last night. I dropped my gaze for effect.

Kismet sighed. She fluttered to my side until she perched on top of the Grimoire. I will teach you. But you aren’t—

—ready for the Grimoire. I know, I know.

So, let’s practice.

I blinked at her. What—here? Now?

You were certainly impatient enough to hunt for the Grimoire while I slept. Yes, now.

Was she calling my bluff? Did she know? I narrowed my eyes at her. Pressing my lips together, I stretched my legs, which still ached, and relaxed my arms at my side.

You’re used to using the power in your hands and arms when you Push, Kismet said. But you need to use your whole body to banish.

Okay, I said slowly. So what does that mean?

You need to access the magic flowing through your whole body instead of just part of it. The spell requires a lot of power, and using just your hands won’t be enough.

I wiggled my fingers. Electricity hummed through them, but I was used to that. I closed my eyes, searching inward for the same power, but I only felt it in my fingers.

Relax. Don’t try so hard. Let it flow through you naturally. Don’t force it.

Though Kismet’s voice was soft and patient, irritation prickled through me. I swallowed back an angry retort and exhaled, long and slow. My legs itched to dance, but instead I focused on breathing. Three deep breaths coursed through me, washing away the tension in my mind and body. More relaxed now, I wiggled my fingers again. Energy sparked from my fingertips and flowed to my palm and up my forearm, racing through my body like a current.

I gasped and opened my eyes. In an instant, the power vanished like I’d turned off a light switch.

Kismet cocked her head at me again. Well done.

I smiled. Uh, thanks. But I don’t feel like I did anything.

Maybe not. But you accessed it. It’s there. All you need to do is practice.

Kismet hopped off the Grimoire and glided to the doorway. Come on. You need to eat.

I glanced longingly at the Grimoire and sighed before closing the door behind me.

CHAPTER 3

It only took me a few minutes of research to find the date of the spring equinox: March 20th. Perfect. That was the first day of spring break.

After making my excuses to Kismet, I dropped by Mia’s house in the afternoon to pick up some ingredients for the spell. I gave the bag of items a wide berth as I walked back home, trying to breathe through my mouth to avoid smelling the foul stench emanating from it. After Mia had told me her mother mostly used the ingredients for exorcisms, I’d stopped asking questions.

When I arrived home, I hastily slid the bag of ingredients into my school backpack and zipped it up before Kismet noticed. After my journey, I wouldn’t need the backpack anymore anyway.

José popped over briefly for a quick goodbye kiss, and I assured him I would join him in Miami. He left me with a photo of his abuela’s house so I would have a clear target when I cast the spell. He didn’t seem nervous at all that I was about to cast a powerful spell for the first time. But, that was José. He never worried about me. Or anyone but himself, really.

Thanks to a magically uneventful day, Kismet was able to spend her human hour the way she liked—going for a run, casting a few spells, and devouring a whole pizza. I knew her routine well.

A few minutes after the pizzas arrived, Kismet returned from her run, her forehead covered in sweat but her eyes alight with energy. I didn’t know what it was like to be a bird for twenty-three hours of the day, but it probably felt good to sprint on longer legs for a while.

Kismet inhaled three slices of pizza before she slowed down and looked at me cheerfully. Good day? she asked between mouthfuls.

I nodded. Nice, lazy Sunday. I paused. Too lazy, really. It’d be nice to find things to do.

Kismet raised an eyebrow. Like drinking with your friends?

I rolled my eyes. "No, I mean magical things. You were right. I need more magic in my life. It will help ground me."

Kismet scrutinized me, and I held perfectly still as if being sniffed by a wild animal. Then she smiled. That’s a great idea.

I picked at the peeling paint on the table, avoiding her gaze. So, uh, what do you know about the spring equinox coming up?

Kismet swallowed a bite and looked at the ceiling in thought. Just that it’s a big deal this year. Ordinarily it’s a hot spot for the magical community, but this year it’s even more so because it’s a millennial year.

What does that have to do with anything?

Millennia are powerful. It’s why they only occur every thousand years.

What about, like, decades? Or centuries? Are they powerful too?

Kismet shrugged. The longer the span, the more power involved. Rarity is a power in itself. So yes, each passage of time holds a portion of power, but none so much as a millennium. She narrowed her eyes. Where is this coming from?

I released a long, slow breath and covered my face with my hands. I don’t know, Kiz, I said, my voice muffled. I just—I feel like I’m floundering. That wolf attack was a wake-up call for me. I need to get out of this—this bubble. This haze. I need some clarity. In my defense, it wasn’t a lie. But the bubble was magic and demons and memories of my parents. That was what I needed to escape from.

Kismet’s blue eyes softened, and she set her napkin down and reached for my hand. Her fingers pressed into mine, and comfort washed over me.

If you want to go to the spring equinox celebration, I’d be happy to go with you, she said quietly.

I swallowed and dropped my gaze to my fingers. Actually, José’s abuela invited me to stay with her. They’re leaving early tomorrow morning and offered me a ride.

Kismet’s brows pinched. That’s a long drive. I should come with you.

I shook my head. The magical crime rate is practically nonexistent in Miami. Plus, his abuela is a powerful witch. We’ll be fine.

Kismet swallowed. What about school?

I froze, staring intently at the edge of the table. She knows. She knows I’m going to drop out and stay in Miami. What do you mean? I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.

I mean, don’t you have a huge project due after spring break?

I exhaled slowly as relief spread through me. Right. Yeah, José’s going to help me with it.

Kismet chewed thoughtfully as she stared at me. "All right. But if you ever get lost, look for the nearest clocktower."

I blinked, my eyebrows creasing in confusion. What?

Kismet dropped her hand on the table, her eyes widening in exasperation. "Frack, Desi, you would die without me."

I smirked at her usage of my favorite curse word.

Kismet cleared her throat and laid her hands flat on the table for emphasis. Think of it as a police precinct. You’re in a strange area and you don’t know anyone. Cast a spell at the face of the clocktower—any spell. You can even Push the face and that’ll do. Witches and warlocks constantly monitor clocktowers for any magic and respond within minutes. How do you not know this?

I shrugged. I remember Mom mentioning clocktowers years ago, but I wasn’t paying attention. Besides, I’ve never needed it—I’ve never gotten lost before. With my parents so busy hunting demons, we hadn’t exactly taken many family vacations. I’d been in North Grove my whole life.

Promise me you’ll be safe.

I nodded. Of course.

Anxiety and guilt plagued me all evening. Although I tried sleeping for a few hours, my mind wouldn’t be silenced. So when the alarm chirped from my phone at two in the morning, I sat up slowly, sifting through a tornado of thoughts and fears to find the resolve to cast the spell.

I scrawled a short note to Kismet and left it on my bed. It read: Used teleportation spell to travel to Miami. So sorry.

As I reread it, I internally cringed. So inadequate, I thought. But I would beg Kismet’s forgiveness later.

Remembering Mia’s warning about the dangers of her mother’s ingredients, I snuck the cauldron and bag of ingredients to the small balcony in the back. The last thing I wanted was to set the apartment on fire.

I compiled the easiest components first, squinting at my chicken scratch handwriting on my notepad—I hadn’t wanted to try sneaking the Grimoire out of the junk room in case Kismet could somehow sense its power.

My hands shook as I dumped the bloodroot, jimsonweed, nightshade, nux oil, and cypress into the cauldron. Using a meat tenderizer, I crushed everything together to form a foul-smelling sticky paste. Then I peered in the bag at the ingredients from Mia. Holding my breath, I overturned the jars of newt’s eye, bat guano, mandrake root, and pig’s feet. I winced and tried not to look too hard at the animal body parts.

I checked my phone. 2:32. According to my research, the exact equinox was at 2:35. My breaths shaky, I held the notepad in one hand and José’s picture in the other. His abuela stood in front of a small but beautiful beach house. She seemed to be no older than a teenager, and she stood next to a handsome couple, undoubtedly her parents. It seemed the house had been in the Bardales family for at least a few generations. On the back, someone had written their names in an untidy script: Luis y Carmen Bardales y su hija Gloria.

I swallowed. My lower lip trembled. My eyes closed for a moment as my very bones shivered with anticipation and fear. Then I opened my eyes and read the spell:

"Ancient powers, I summon thee,

To gather winds and carry me.

Hasten my journey through time and space,

And bring me to my desired place."

I waited, my heart frozen with fear. My fingers crushed the notepad, and I resisted the urge to bite my nails.

The cauldron rattled. A deep humming noise consumed me. Fierce winds billowed around me, tousling my curls in front of my eyes. Startled, I dropped the photograph and notepad and shoved the hair out of my face.

The cauldron’s rattling intensified until a small funnel cloud formed within, swirling the ingredients into a sickening tornado. Thunder roared overhead, and a flash of lightning elicited a startled shriek from my lips.

More flashes of lightning. It grew closer and closer until I swore the next bolt would electrify me.

White light consumed me. Thunder blasted in my ears and into my skull. I couldn’t see or hear anything. Wind tore at my skin and hair and clothes until I was so dizzy I knew I would fall.

I screamed, but my voice was lost in the storm.

CHAPTER 4

I collapsed. Grass and dirt broke my fall. Smoke met my nostrils, and heat warmed my back. Was it daytime in Miami?

A cacophony of sounds assaulted me. Shouts. Gunshots. Explosions. A deafening boom rumbled the ground around me, and my ears throbbed from the sound.

I jumped to my feet, my arms and legs shaking. Slowly, I climbed up a huge, grassy hill toward the sounds of chaos. When I reached the top, my jaw dropped.

I stood in front of a huge crowd of people, and the air was thick with smoke. My ears still rang from the noise, and several men shoved past me in a hurry. They were dressed as old-time militiamen with dark blue uniforms, tall brown boots, and old-fashioned hats. Most of them held long guns, and one bore an American flag.

Okay . . . a reenactment maybe? I wondered in bewilderment.

In the distance, more hills surrounded the crowd, and the afternoon sun beat down on me. The thick humidity in the air suffocated me, expanding my already frizzy hair and clogging my air passages. I sucked in a breath, but the moisture in the air was so thick it felt like breathing through a straw.

I whirled around, trying to find a way out of this massive crowd pressing in on me. Several soldiers paused to look at me in bewilderment before bustling past me.

A series of deafening explosions rocked the ground beneath me. I yelped and covered my ears as thunderous blasts rattled my eardrums and shook the earth. Once again, I fell, my heart roaring and my stomach quivering. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from the booming cannon fire.

I covered my head with my hands, hoping to appear as small as possible. Blast after blast hit the earth, spraying dirt and debris everywhere. Flecks of dirt and rubble hit my head.

It’s just a reenactment, right? I told myself uncertainly. They’ll stop soon.

And they did. At least, they stopped firing the cannons. But more men shouted, and the gunfire continued. The sounds hammered against my eardrums until a sharp ringing blared in my ears.

Another intense blast exploded in the air, sending me flying. I toppled backward into another soldier, and we collapsed to the ground in a heap. The man swore under his breath, scrambling to his feet and snatching his hat from the ground. He had short cropped blond hair and looked younger than I expected, maybe a few years older than me. He surveyed me with wide, green eyes. Dirt and dust covered his face and uniform. His face drained of color when he saw me lying on the ground like an idiot.

I—uh— He ran a hair through his hair and looked around as if I was a child who had run away from her mother. What are you doing here, miss?

His voice sounded muffled to my ears, and I squinted at him. With a grunt, I tried to rise, and the man extended a hand to help me up. When I stood next to him, my mouth fell open as I realized how tall he was. I almost had to crane my neck to look into his eyes.

I’m . . . not sure, I said honestly, looking around in confusion. What is all this? I had to shout to hear my own voice.

More gunshots burst in the air, and I ducked my head with a petrified squeak.

"It’s the battle, the man said loudly, his brows crinkling. He looked me up and down, his eyes widening like I was insane. You shouldn’t be here. He touched my shoulder, turning me away from the chaos and pointing down the hill. In the distance, a small cluster of buildings shone against the sun. Head down that way and take shelter in the city."

My mouth opened and closed as I followed his gaze. But I—

I turned to speak to the soldier, but he had already dived back into the battle. I blinked, flinching when another explosion shook the ground. The soldiers around me continued their march through the fray, firing guns and shouting. Just beyond the soldiers were trenches, which were lined by what looked like giant bags of sand.

They’re really going all out, I thought, my wide eyes drinking in the chaos around me. I’ve never heard of a reenactment like this. This can’t be real, right?

I didn’t want to stick around to find out.

I took several trembling deep breaths and sprinted down the hill. A stitch formed in my side as my legs pushed and pushed. Blasts and explosions rang out from behind me, but I didn’t look back.

The hill descended, and I lost my footing. I tumbled and rolled through grass, weeds, and dirt, my limbs flailing.

When I finally stopped rolling, I coughed and wheezed, spitting grass out of my mouth. So graceful, Desi. I wiped the dirt from my jeans as best I could, but it was impossible to improve my appearance. I officially looked like a homeless woman.

I groaned and tucked my curls behind my ears. My fingers caught a few twigs from my hair. I discarded them and climbed to my feet. My legs ached, but I pressed forward, walking toward the collection of huge, towering buildings in the distance.

As the buildings drew nearer, my feet felt more and more like they would fall off. Heat enveloped me. My forehead and neck were covered in a lovely sheen of sweat that transformed my dirt stains to mud. I wiped my brow and my hand came back even muddier than before. My curls were plastered to the back of my neck from the sweat and humidity. Mosquitoes buzzed around me, and I impatiently waved my hand to ward them off.

Get help. Find a phone. Call José. I can get through this. Even if I was an exhausted mess, it would still be worth it. The spell took me thousands of miles away in just a few seconds. I could bear to walk a mile or two. My feet shuffled forward obediently, but my steps were slow and sluggish. I felt like a zombie stumbling ineptly as my body decayed.

Just before the buildings were two large, white tents with people popping in and out. I frowned and squinted, trying to make out what was going on inside. I paused as a few women entered, each wearing a giant white sash in the shape of an X that made me think of old-fashioned nurses. The outfit was even complete with a small white cap on the head.

As the white door flaps peeled open, I caught a glimpse of several cots with bloodied soldiers lying on them. My eyes widened. There is something really bizarre about this reenactment thing.

I glanced at the second tent as a nurse exited, clutching a handkerchief to her face. Inside the tent, I caught a glimpse of yellow-faced soldiers, some hunched over and vomiting, just before the flaps lowered, obscuring everything from view.

My heart stopped, and my stomach churned in revulsion. What the frack is going on here? My feet urged me forward, away from these creepy tents and whatever weird cult or fandom this was. Someone clearly took their history textbooks way too seriously.

At long last, I approached the buildings, and my jaw dropped. Impressive monuments and edifices towered above me, some adorned with domes and elegant archways, others with grand pillars and iron balconies. Many of them looked to be several hundred years old.

Dazed, I stumbled forward, craning my neck to drink in the view. The grandeur slowly tapered off to smaller, more modest buildings. But even so, most of them were made of the old and sturdy concrete that reminded me of an ancient, preserved town near my neighborhood that was full of historical monuments.

Did I somehow Teleport to Europe? I wondered in bewilderment. This wasn’t exactly the hub of beaches and bars I was expecting.

A buzz of soft voices reached my ears. I shuffled forward eagerly and found a group of people muttering anxiously together near a large, extravagant building that looked like some kind of church. My eyes raked over them. They were all women, some of them holding toddlers and babies. Some women wore long, flowy skirts, and others wore the same nurse’s uniform I’d seen earlier.

My brows furrowed as I stared from woman to woman. I squinted, trying to make out what they were saying, but I couldn’t understand a word.

My eyes widened. They weren’t speaking English.

A petite woman with black hair pulled back in rounded braids approached me. Her eyes glanced over my outfit and bedraggled appearance, and her lips pulled down in concern.

Señorita, ¿está bien? she asked.

I blinked. My limited understanding of Spanish prompted me to nod. Sí. I shook my head. Uh, no . . . No. I need help. Uh, ¿hablas inglés?

The woman’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. No, no hablamos inglés aquí. Solo los soldados.

My mouth opened, and I stammered, Uh . . . No comprendo. Do you have a cell phone? I extended my pinky and thumb and held it to my head like a phone.

The woman cocked her head at me, her brown eyes confused. Lo siento, señorita. No sé qué es eso. She paused, and worry creased her eyes. She touched my arm. ¿Qué viste allá arriba? ¿Están ganando los americanos?

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I grimaced apologetically. I’m sorry, I don’t understand. No comprendo.

The woman nodded with a weak smile and patted my hand, as if to assure me it was all right. But her eyes were still wide with worry.

I bit my lip. Why was she so worried if it was only a reenactment? I looked at the women’s clothes one more time and realized they were part of it. Perhaps she was just playing a role.

As I looked from woman to woman, the fear and anxiety on their faces seemed much more real to me than just part of a role.

I muttered a quick thanks to the woman and sidestepped the crowd to walk farther into the town. A few heads turned to look at me quizzically, but most of the women continued to watch the hill I had just fallen down.

The town seemed eerily empty and quiet, save for a few groups of soldiers stationed outside the bigger buildings. These men wore light blue uniforms and white hats that were slightly different than the ones the Americans wore. The soldiers scowled at me as I passed, and I avoided eye contact. A few heads poked out of windows nearby to stare at me, but no one uttered a word.

I swallowed, my throat dry and my stomach growling. A small market came into view, but as soon as I approached, I knew it was a useless idea. The stands were empty of any food. But a stack of newspapers rested next to the empty carts, and I hurried toward it, snatching the copy on top. The newspaper was called La Lucha and most of it was in Spanish. I growled in frustration until my eyes caught the date.

1 de julio de 1898.

What? I whispered in disbelief.

I scanned the front page and found the words Cuba, España, and Estados Unidos de America.

Cuba? I muttered, feverishly flipping through newspaper pages until my eyes widened. An article in English!

My eyes flew through the article, and my jaw hit the ground. The newspaper fell from my shaking hands.

I was in Cuba. In 1898. In the middle of a war between the United States and Spain.

No, I whispered, my vision darkening. No, this can’t be happening.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

I wheezed, my breaths ripping through me like I was made of paper.

Don’t panic.

My chest rattled as I gasped, but no air came. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

I choked, my lungs desperate for air. Black spots appeared in front of my eyes.

Distant cannonfire rang out, breaking through my hysterical fog. I inhaled, and that same burnt smell from earlier tickled my nose. I inhaled again, deeply, and my panic subsided. I blinked, suddenly finding myself on the ground, surrounded by empty crates. Had I fainted?

Breathe. Breathe.

My legs wobbling, I carefully rose to my feet and looked around, squinting against the blinding sun.

I didn’t know anything about the Spanish-American War. The newspaper said Santiago de Cuba at the top, so I assumed that was the city I was in.

I thought of the soldiers on the hill, and my mouth fell open. Those had been real soldiers? I had almost been shot?

My breaths intensified again, but I shut my eyes. No! Calm down. Think.

As if on autopilot, my right leg kicked up and I grasped the dirty end of my shoe, pinching my toes. I inhaled deeply, feeling the stretch in my leg. My eyes closed and I held the pose for a full minute. Then I dropped my foot and stretched the other leg, all the while counting my breaths. Fifteen . . . Sixteen . . . Seventeen . . .

My heartbeat calmed to an easy, soothing rhythm. I exhaled, long and slow and released my foot.

I’m in Cuba, I whispered, a hundred years in the past, surrounded by people who don’t speak English. I mentally cursed myself for not forcing José to teach me more Spanish.

I folded the newspaper and pocketed it. Three deep, calming breaths washed over me, calming me once more.

What would Kismet tell me to do? I asked myself. I drummed my fingers against the denim of my jeans as I contemplated. I have magic, but I can only Push things. My eyes widened, and my heart slammed against my chest in realization. A clocktower!

Determination pulsed through me in waves of renewed energy, and I strode out of the small market and back to the more enormous and intimidating buildings. I gazed up at each one, hoping to see some kind of giant clock face on any of them. They seemed like the most likely candidates since they were the grandest buildings. The sun beat down on me, and within minutes, I was covered in sweat again. Exhaustion, dehydration, and hunger tugged at my worn body, and my purposeful steps faded to a sluggish trudge.

At long last, I approached some kind of courthouse with mighty pillars like the ones at the Parthenon. A flag fluttered faintly in the wind outside the courthouse. I glanced up at it, and my heart stopped.

There! Behind the flag was an unmistakable clock face. My eyes trailed down, following the tower to see where it rested. A few blocks behind the courthouse.

Okay, I said, trying to rouse my limbs with another healthy dose of determination and adrenaline, but I was spent. I exhaled, my cheeks puffing out from the breath, and strode onward.

I stumbled up the wide, dirt road between the courthouse and other downtown buildings, glancing up at the flag every now and then to get my bearings. When the flag disappeared behind other buildings, I stopped, uncertain. But in the end, I knew I had to continue on no matter what.

Within a few minutes, I finally approached the clocktower. Its pearly white granite glinted in the sunlight. A large window with red shutters rested near the clock face. The tip of the narrow monument was decorated with ornate red tiles and a small square balcony with a flag rippling in the wind.

The clock face indicated it was almost noon. I stretched out my arms and took a deep breath. Angling my fingers toward the clock face, I Pushed.

Feeble magical vibes tickled my arms but did nothing else. I was too weak.

I dropped my arms in frustration and took several more deep breaths. Calming my racing heart, I aimed my hands again, closed my eyes, and Pushed.

Something large and metallic groaned. I opened my eyes and found I’d Pushed one of the clock hands backward.

My arms