He quickly turned his attention back to the road. “Forgive me for trying to show you a little respect.”
“I’d rather you show me your briefs,” I muttered under my breath, though loud enough for him to hear.
“Boxer briefs,” he corrected.
“My bad.” I pinned him with an irritated look as I tried to keep my frustration in check. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them, I guess my memory is getting a little fuzzy.”
The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Cute.”
“This situation is a lot of things, but cute isn’t one of them!” I bit out, tossing what little grace I had left right out the window. And who could blame me? It’s been weeks since Dominic and I did the deed. Not since he found out that Trace was back from the dead…something he’d tried to tell me during our last visit but that I’d refused to listen to.
Though in my defense, I didn’t realize he was trying to tell me that.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it and all, but I’m not some confused little girl that needs you to make decisions for my future self. I’m well aware that my boyfriend is back from the dead and while it changes a lot, it doesn’t change the fact that I have feelings for you.”
He turned and met my eyes just then and I couldn’t help but notice the sheer surprise in them. Why was he always so shocked whenever I expressed my feelings for him? Did he not believe it was possible for me to care about him? Did he think it was only the bloodbond that was keeping me close to him?
I sure hoped not, because while the bloodbond obviously played a role in my craving of our exchanges, of my anxiety easing when he was close to me—it didn’t fabricate my feelings for him.
What I felt for Dominic had grown slowly and steadily over time, long before the bloodbond even started.
It was real.
I felt it in my heart.
“What I do, or don’t do with you is my business alone, and entirely up to me.” I wet my lips to keep from going all cotton-mouthed and tongue twisted. Something that happened often when I was professing my needs to him. “If you’re not interested in me that way anymore, then that’s one thing. I can accept that. But if you’re just trying to do the ‘right thing’ for me, you’re making the decision for me and frankly, you’re not very good at it.”
He smirked, obviously enjoying my little speech. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Mostly because you’re pissing me off and making me sexually frustrated, and trust me, that’s never a good idea.”
The look on his face—if I had a picture, I’d blow it up and frame it on my wall. It was a mixture of shock, dark intrigue and pure unfiltered amusement. “Well then, my apologies, angel. That was certainly not my intention.”
I nodded smugly. “Try to do better, champ. I’m counting on you.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, really laughed, and the sound of it made everything right in the world again, even if for only a little moment. Either way, I’d gotten my point across to him, though the true test would be later that night, when we were alone together again.
It was nearly midnight by the time we made it to The Player’s Club—the strip club we were supposedly meeting Dominic’s contact in. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy about it. I mean, seriously? What kind of a necromancer arranges a meeting at a boobie bungalow?
“This is so inappropriate,” I grumbled as we made our way to the front entrance.
“Utterly appalling,” he said with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
I smacked him in his side and shook my head at him. “Just remember to keep your tongue in your mouth,” I warned, only half-joking. “You know I’m liable to cut it off.”
“Some credit please, angel. I hardly need to pay for entertainment.”
That was true. He could have his pick of the litter, and that was without his power of compulsion.
Still, I figured it was best to warn him beforehand. Sharing was not my forte, especially when it came to sharing him.
Inside, the place was dark, smoky, and filled with questionable men slobbering over girls who would probably not give them the time of day if it wasn’t for the fact that they were paying for it. Black lacquer tables and red walls made up most of the décor, while the busty waitresses and topless dancers made up the rest.
I immediately dropped my eyes, feeling like a pervert for even being here.
How is this my life? I silently griped.
“Stay close,” said Dominic as he led us through the bar.
His warning was unnecessary. I have no intention of wondering off on my own to get accidently groped.
I followed closely, doing my best not to step on the back of his shoe or smack into him if he stopped suddenly. I noticed some men were snapping their necks to get a look at me, probably wondering if I was the latest fresh meat up from grabs. Dominic noticed too, evidenced by the way he squared his shoulders and pulled me up beside him, side-eyeing every patron we passed as though handing out silent warnings with his eyes.
I was the last person on earth that needed a bodyguard, but in this case, I appreciated the intermediary.
We made our way toward the middle of the room where Dominic paused for a moment before gesturing to the center stage area. My gaze immediately fell on a young man, maybe in his twenties, with stark white hair slicked all the way back and tattoos that covered nearly every inch of his exposed skin.
“Odin,” greeted Dominic as we approached the man at his front row seat.
Odin looked up and flashed a smile. “Dominic, my man. Long time no see. Sit. Drink. Introduce me.”
Dominic pulled out the chair next to him and nodded for me to sit down. “This is Jemma,” he announced as he pulled out another chair for himself and then sat down. “Jemma, meet Odin.”
Odin’s icy grey irises raked over my body, cataloging each one of my assets as if he’d been invited to. I resisted the urge to smack him in the face because, well, he was a necromancer and I needed information from him.
“The Daughter of Hades,” he said, his attention directed at Dominic. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
How the heck did he know who I was? I looked back at Dominic who immediately shook his head as if to clear his name from my suspect list.
“And she’s a powerful one at that.” Odin’s eyes were back on me now, summing me up as though he could sense my arsenal just from looking at me. “Haven’t felt an aura this strong since the Renaissance.”
“The Renaissance, huh? How old are you exactly?” I asked, my eyebrows slightly bundled together in suspicion. He didn’t look a day over twenty-two, but something told me that number was way off.
“Too old for you, Princess.”
Ew. “I wasn’t propositioning you,” I quickly shot back.
“Not yet,” he said and waggled his eyebrows.
“I’m sitting right here, Odin,” reminded Dominic as he gestured to the waitress to bring him two more of whatever his friend was having.
“My apologies. You know how it is,” said Odin without looking remotely sorry. He relaxed back in his seat and went back to ogling the top-heavy blond on the stage. “So, what can I do for you, old friend?”
Obviously, he wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t waste any time blurting out, “I need to know everything there is to know about raising someone from the dead.”
His gaze snapped back to mine; his eyebrows raised in delight. “You plan on raising someone from the dead, Princess?”
“Yeah, not likely.”
“Then why do you need this information?” He pulled out a cigarette from his pack and rolled it between his thumb and finger. His eyes remained fixed on mine as though he were trying to pull the answer out of them.
“I’m trying to help a friend.”
“A friend,” he repeated slowly, studying me with tempestuous eyes.
“Someone already…you know, brought him back,” I clarified, albeit choppily. “I just want
to make sure he’s going to be okay.”
His unimpressed gaze slid to Dominic and then back to me. “Is he catatonic?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your friend. Is he catatonic?” he repeated, slower this time as though I were daft.
“No,” I answered flatly.
“Is he stumbling around drooling and talking to himself?”
“What? No.”
He blinked lazily. “Then what’s the problem, Princess?”
Was this guy for real? I straightened in my seat. “The problem, Odin, is that he doesn’t remember who the fuck I am or what happened to him and I need to make sure someone isn’t doing this to him on purpose. Simple enough?”
Angel, Dominic chastised, and I silently cursed my stupid tongue.
Odin’s mouth spread into a full, toothy grin as he glanced at Dominic. “I like her.”
Mm-kay, that was not at all the reaction I was expecting after mouthing off to him. Still, my expression remained unmoved as I waited for him to address my very real concerns.
“Alright, so let me get this straight. A necromancer brought your friend back from the dead—”
“A Caster,” I corrected. “I don’t actually know if she was working with a necromancer or not.”
“Okay,” he said, dragging the word out slowly as if to patronize me. “And since your friend doesn’t know you from Adam, you think this Caster purposely blocked his memories?”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“She must be a pretty powerful girl if you think she can pull off something like that.” He put the cigarette between his lips and lit it up.
“She is,” I said as I watched the smoke billow from his mouth. “And she’s also obsessed with him.”
“With your friend,” he verified, tweaking his eyebrows again.
“Exactly.”
“And what is it that you want me to do about it, Princess?”
I glanced at Dominic, hoping he had an eloquent proposal prepared. Judging from the smirk on his face, he didn’t. Not surprising since Dominic generally enjoying throwing me into the lion’s den and then sitting back and watching me fight my way out of it. He was kind of twisted that way.
“I need you to tell me if his missing memories are from the reanimation as she claims, or if it’s from something else she’s doing to him.” I gauged his reaction before adding, “And I need you to tell me how I can make him remember everything without, you know…hurting him.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, slouching back in his chair as his focus returned to the stage. “That’s quite a tall order.”
“Does that mean you can’t help me?”
“I didn’t say that.” He fished a twenty dollar bill out from his pocket and then waved it at the dancer. She immediately lowered herself to her knees and began crawling over to him so that he can slip it into the top of her panties.
My gaze slid back to Dominic to make sure he was keeping his eyes where he was supposed to. He winked at me as he took a sip of his drink.
“Then you can help me?” I asked, my attention back on Odin now.
“I can tell you what you need to know,” he said as he took an insanely long drag of his cigarette and then put it out in the ashtray. “But you aren’t going to like it.”
My heart sank a little, but I kept all signs of it hidden from my face. “Try me.”
“Raising the dead is tricky business, Princess,” he said as he relaxed back in his chair with his drink in hand. “It takes a certain finesse, a certain flare to get it right, and even then, there’s usually consequences. If this friend of yours isn’t a complete vegetable, I’d consider it a job well done.”
I shook my head profusely. “That’s not good enough.” Not even almost.
He leaned in towards me, resting his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he held me with his icy gaze. “What do you think happens to a person’s brain when they die and come back to life?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “The longer they stay dead, the more damage their brain incurs.”
“But this isn’t the same. You’re using magic, or…whatever it is you’re using to bring them back.”
Probably dark forces. Lots and lots of dark forces.
“The consequences are the same, Princess. We use magic to build a wall around the brain, to quarantine the necrotic tissue and keep it from infesting the rest of his brain. Those walls around his memory are there for a reason—so he doesn’t fall apart at the seams, so to speak”
“So, are you saying she’s not the one doing this to him? The Caster I mean?” I quickly added, my hope slowly trickling away like a leaky faucet. Come on, Odin. Give me something.
“It’s unlikely, but not impossible,” he said and polished off the rest of whatever it was he was drinking. “If anything, she may be strengthening the walls by making him forget certain triggers, which in my professional opinion is a good thing.”
A good thing my ass! Nikki doesn’t do anything unless it’s for her own direct benefit. “You don’t know this girl. You don’t know the lengths she would go to keep him under her thumb.”
“That very well may be, but it doesn’t change the facts, Princess.”
“And if she is doing this to him on purpose? If she’s making him forget me? How do I break her spell?”
“The same way you break any spell. You find the Talisman it’s tied to and eviscerate it, but I strongly advise against that.” His gray eyes darkened into boundless pools of warning. “The best thing you can do for you friend is to keep those walls up as if his life depended on it. Because, trust me, Princess, it does.”
My throat constricted as though I were being strangled from the inside out.
This was not what I wanted to hear. In fact, this was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to hear. I’d come here with the intention of backing up all my suspicions and then using that information to take Nikki down. Instead, I was getting served with a rotten piece of reality and it tasted like shit.
In my spiral into the abyss, something occurred to me just then. Something Trace had said to me earlier at school. “What if he’s already remembering on his own? What if he’s having dreams about people he’s not supposed to remember?”
That had to be a good thing, right? A light at the end of the pitch-black tunnel…
Dominic immediately caught the meaning behind my question and pinned me under his inquisitive stare, but I forced myself to ignore it, turning back my attention to the necromancer instead.
“Then that means it’s already started,” answered Odin, his voice low and foreboding. “The best you can do now is pray those walls don’t come crashing down on him or you might as well kiss your friend as you know him goodbye.”
Well then.
Fuck.
Me.
9. PROMISES TO KEEP
The sky cracked with dry lightning as we pulled up to the Huntington Manor later that night. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning and I was exhausted and completely deflated.
I’d been so sure that Nikki was responsible for Trace’s memory loss and couldn’t wait to tear down the pretty little playhouse she’d built for herself. But everything was up in the air now. She very well may have had a hand in his missing memories of those last few months, but it also may be the only thing keeping him sane right now.
Odin had made the consequences clear and there was no getting around them. If the walls came down, the best outcome for Trace would be falling into a vegetative state. The alternatives to that was going completely insane or worse, trapped inside his own mind as he relieved his gruesome end, over and over again.
My stomach sunk like a submarine treading water.
There was no way in a hell storm that I’d ever let that happen to Trace; even if that meant I’d have to give him up to Nikki. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to do that—how to ever be okay with losing him to her. She didn’t even almost deserve him, and frankly, just the thought of them together made my stomach revolt with anguish.<
br />
“You haven’t eaten a thing all night.” Dominic was leaning against the doorway of the den, watching me as I stared at the rain running down the glass window.
“I’m not hungry.”
A few moments passed before he spoke again.
“Tell me how to make it better, angel.” His voice was small and audibly pained. It was no secret that he’d long since allowed the connection between us—between our emotions—to run freely, and that meant not only did he know when I was hurting, but he felt the hurt too.
I shook my head in despair. “You can’t make this better.”
Nobody could. Trace was walking the thinnest of tight ropes and any wrong movement—even a slight twitch in the wrong direction—could send him tumbling into oblivion.
How the hell could anyone make that better?
After another long pause, he said, “You never mentioned he was remembering you.”
I knew the question was coming. Frankly, I was surprised he didn’t bring it up on the way back home. Then again, he probably knew that I needed to be left alone; to just curl up into a ball and disappear inside myself.
“Was that omitted on purpose?” he asked, and while his tone was calm and causal, I could feel the unsettlement behind his words.
“I didn’t know what it meant and I…” I trailed off, suddenly feeling as though a bone had lodged itself in my trachea. “I wasn’t sure if I should talk to you about it,” I admitted.
“Why not?” His voice smooth and even, as though what I’d just said had absolutely no effect on him, even though I knew that it did.
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. Talking about him with you makes me feel like I’m hurting you.” I dropped my head at my admission. “And I really don’t want to hurt you.”
Another long, drawn out pause.
“I’m a grown man, angel.” I could hear his shoes shuffling against the wood floor, but he remained at a distance. “You don’t have to protect my feelings.”
“I know I don’t,” I agreed, though only half-heartedly. “But it’s not something I can help anymore.”
Because I had feelings for Dominic. Real, deep seeded feelings that had started long before Trace took his last breath, and they continued to grow throughout the summer, and while Trace was back now, alive and breathing, that didn’t mean my feelings for Dominic had magically disappeared.
Incarnate: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Saga Book 5) Page 8