Twisted by Time (Timecaster Chronicles, Book 1) by R.L. Perez

Author:R.L. Perez [Perez, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Willow Haven Press
Published: 2020-07-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

RAMÓN LED US DOWN THE narrow street, and Oliver and I followed in silence. Dozens of concrete shops and buildings were crammed on top of and next to each other, some with iron balconies and others with faded signs that creaked with the mild wind in the air. We passed an abandoned wagon that looked like it belonged to some peddler—with trinkets, charms, and other colorful souvenir-looking knickknacks.

Gradually, the fire within me subsided, and my heart rate returned to normal. I’d been so silly and idiotic. Soldiers were attacking the city. People were dying right now. And all I’d been thinking about was if Oliver had been about to kiss me.

I’m such a moron. A stupid, selfish moron.

We approached the familiar strip of rusty, dilapidated buildings and drew closer to the enchanted red door. More gunfire exploded around us, and I realized how real this was. Once we passed through the door, we wouldn’t be safe from the siege. We would be stepping from one battle into another.

Ramón turned to face us. “You should cast a protection charm first.”

Reluctantly, I looked at Oliver. His eyes still burned with desire, but his expression sobered.

“Can you do this one?” he asked. “I’m a little drained from the last few.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. Sure.”

Unease spread through me. I mentally searched through my memories of spells, but it had been so long that I came up empty. I rubbed my nose.

“I’m a little out of practice,” I muttered, my cheeks burning again.

Oliver nodded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Protective magic,” he said, “linger near . . .”

“Right,” I said quickly, taking a deep breath. I flexed my fingers, and the familiar magical energy spread through me.

“Take my hands,” Oliver instructed. “Otherwise the spell won’t know I’m included.”

I scowled at him. His eyes danced with laughter, but his large hands were outstretched before me, waiting.

Ramón cleared his throat impatiently.

I sighed and snatched Oliver’s hands, trying to ignore how my skin burned against his firm, calloused palms.

Eyes closed, I said,

“Protective magic, linger near,

And . . . keep us safe from danger here.”

A deep blue glow engulfed our entwined hands and surrounded us like a giant bubble. Then, slowly, it faded, but my arms and legs still tingled.

“Thank you,” Oliver said quietly.

I dropped his hands quickly and avoided his gaze. “No problem.”

Ramón nodded, obviously satisfied, and stepped through the red door. It rippled like water, and he vanished. Oliver and I followed behind him.

A cacophonous array of sounds assaulted us. Explosions. Gunfire. Screams. Moans. The pure terror in the air smothered me the minute I entered the mortal realm. I couldn’t believe how muffled everything had been. Despite the booming gunfire I’d heard, it was nothing compared to this.

Hurried figures darted past us, some sporting bloody injuries, some covered in soot. A woman huddled in the corner of two buildings, clutching her two children and sobbing. Spanish soldiers darted down the street, shouting something I couldn’t understand.

My throat closed. I couldn’t breathe.

My own sobs echoed in my head.

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