Read Promise: Caulborn #2 for Free Online Page B

situation with a cold, clinical eye. The truth of the matter though, was that panic was rapidly setting in as my vision began to darken. My Glimpse kicked on. Another gift from my father, the Glimpse lets me see moments of a person’s or item’s past. I saw myself as a boy, being given the deluxe Commander Courageous action figure for my eighth birthday. “Wow, Dad,” I heard eight-year-old me say, “It’s from the time when he internalized his power and didn’t need the Anisa Amulet anymore.” I felt the sheer joy at receiving the toy all over again; it was a warm feeling.
    The Glimpse flickered, and I saw a moment from one of the first dates Petra and I went on; we were running through the back alleys of Boston with a gargoyle on our tail. Her hand found mine, and together we ran through the darkness.
    A part of my rapidly fading consciousness was confused by this Glimpse. Then I understood. This wasn’t a Glimpse. This was my life flashing before my eyes.
    The vision shifted, and I saw myself lying facedown on the sand in a desert that existed in a dimension outside time. A man wearing only a pair of faded blue jeans stood over me, monologuing about how telekinesis was most useful as a killing tool, because it could be used to stop a victim’s heart. That man, known as the Mentem, had nearly killed me that day by crushing my heart with his mind.
    That tiny part of my mind that could still think clearly latched onto that memory. With the tattered remains of my willpower, I closed my eyes and used my telekinesis to strike down on my own chest, forcing my heart to pump a few times. With a little more blood going to my brain, I was able to gently reach inside my chest and telekinetically pump my heart directly. It got the idea and took off on its own again.
    I stayed on the ground for a minute, panting, letting the feeling come back to my arms and legs. Then I lurched to my feet, grabbed onto a street lamp for support, and blasted the closest ghost with a telekinetic lance. That’s the great thing about telekinesis; it can affect incorporeal creatures. The ghost sailed through the air and phased through the side of a building.
    The remaining ghost, obviously confused by my unexpected recovery, stood there and blinked its glowing blue eyes at me twice. I snarled and lashed out telekinetically, driving the ghost down into the ground like a nail into a board. My breathing was still ragged and stars danced in my vision, but now I was ready for a fight. The one I’d just put through the wall appeared by my side and bounced off of a shield I’d raised. I sent lances of force through it, impaling it. A spray of crackling ectoplasm gushed from its back, splattering the sidewalk with electric blue goo.
    The ghost flickered a few times and then vanished. You can’t actually kill a ghost. At best, I’d be able to do enough damage to its ectoplasmic form that it’d be forced to disperse. I wasn’t sure how much damage that was, or if I had enough power to do that. I checked my faith reserves. Gods are like engines that run on faith, Each time I draw on my followers’ faith, I can fire off a telekinetic or pyrokinetic burst. I was about three-quarters full. That should be more than enough to—
    A hand snaked up through the pavement from beneath my feet and latched onto my ankle. An electric buzzing crackled through my leg as I jolted and convulsed, collapsing to the ground in a graceless heap. My head bounced off the ground and the world swam. The ghost straddled me, drove its hands into my sternum, and kept them there. Its fingers wriggled like worms in my chest. It didn’t hurt as much as I expected, though it did hurt. This was more of a distracting buzz: not enough to kill me on its own, but enough to keep me from focusing my telekinetic energy on regulating my spasming heart or blasting the ghost off my chest.
    I couldn’t even call for help. The best I could manage was a pathetic gurgling noise. My vision was