Incarnate: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Saga Book 5)

by Bianca Scardoni

  “Can you guys still hear me?” I tested.

  “Yes, but barely,” replied Gabriel.

  Nodding to myself, I aimed the flashlight forward and started down the underground tunnel. Almost instantly, the cold spot from above evaporated and was replaced with a gentle warmth. As nice as it felt, I knew it only meant that I was getting closer to the book, and that the closer I got, the hotter that heat would become.

  “Can you hear me now?” I asked, feeling like that guy from that cell phone commercial.

  No answer.

  I bite my bottom lip and pressed on. I’d made it all but fifteen steps before the heat really ramped up, making me feel as though I were standing in a sauna. I quickly peeled off my jacket and tied it around my waist, trudging forward again. This time, it only took a few more steps before sweat began pooling between my breasts and at the small of my back.

  The heat was getting hotter faster than I could stand.

  “Fuck, it’s hot,” I whined, and immediately noticed how dry my throat was. It kind of felt like I was breathing in exhaust fumes in the middle of the desert. On a hot summer day. Pausing to catch my breath, I hunched over my knees and drew in a lungful of air. Hot-ass air.

  Bad idea.

  Realizing it was only going to get worse from here, I pushed forward on the balls of my feet and picked up my pace. Unfortunately, I made it all but four more steps before I had to stop again. The heat was unbearable and was making everything stick to me. Peeling off my tank top, I used it to whip my dripping wet face and then tucked my shirt into my back pocket before pressing on.

  That was when I felt it…

  The unmistakable agony of feeling like your insides were locked inside a pressure cooker with no hope of ever getting out. I glanced down at my stinging arms and traced the bright red tracks shooting down my forearm. Horror slammed into me as I realized the tracks were my veins. My blood was reaching unfathomable temperatures.

  Panicked, I began running. Not back to the safety of the above world, or back to the waiting arms of the people I loved, but deeper into the cave. I knew my body was gearing up to shut down on me, to fry me from the inside out, and all of this will have been for nothing. I was running out of time and I had to get that book.

  With my feet pounding against the ground, I pushed through the wall of invisible flames lashing out at my skin, my lungs constricting from the unbearable heat as liquid began to drip from my nose. It was only when I wiped it away with the back of my arm that I realized it was blood. But still, I kept running. Even when my mind screamed at me to turn around—to run back to safety, I knew I had to keep going despite the pain, despite the panic, despite my legs threatening to give out below me. This was our only hope and I had to give it everything I had.

  But everything I had was quickly running out, my energy evaporating as quickly as the water in my body was. And then my wobbly legs bended every which way before crumbling below me, hurling me through the air before hitting the ground on my hands and knees.

  My eyes widened with horror as I looked down at myself; at my arms and chest. Thick red sores covered nearly every inch of my skin as blood oozed from the open wounds. I was burning alive right before my eyes and I couldn’t even cry about it, because crying requiring tears and I didn’t have a single drop of water left in my body.

  All hope abandoned me. This was all going to be for nothing. Because I hadn’t been fast enough. Or strong enough to go any further—to withstand the agonizing pain. I can’t do this…

  I sat back on my knees, winded and gutted and burning from every pore in my body and looked up the chamber that was surely going to be my tomb, and then I gasped.

  I had somehow reached the end of the tunnel. The Sang Noir was suspended at the center of the clearing, thick sooty flames dancing macabrely around it. And while I knew I didn’t have the book yet, seeing it in the flesh ignited something feral inside of me. I wasn’t sure if it was strength or hope or the unwillingness to just roll over and die, but it was enough for me to kick off my feet and cross the remaining distance to the book.

  The flames, both those I could see and those I couldn’t, slammed into my body at every angel, burning my flesh with wounds I was certain would never heal. The smell of burning flesh alone made my stomach wrench.

  So, I did the only thing I knew to do. The only thing I could do. I shut everything off and separated myself from my body completely as though I were just a spectator floating above it, watching the flames as they consumed me. I watched my body barrel forward, reaching my arm through the black flame, the fire eating any and all remnants of flesh, my fingertips curling themselves around the book and then yanking it out from is eternal resting place. I watched, not feeling anything, completely separated from myself as my desiccated body stumbled backward through the air before landing several feet away on the ground in an unceremonious heap.

  And then nothing. No movement.

  Had my body finally succumbed to searing pain? Was this how I was going to go out after everything I’d fought for? Visions or Trace and Dominic twined together in my mind, leaving me breathless and wanting for more—more time. More life. More chances to say all of the things that had been left unsaid. Screw that!

  Our story was not finished.

  Not even almost.

  “Get up!” I screamed at myself as I gaped at my unconscious body, my fingers still wrapped tightly around the book. “Get up or you’re going to die here!”

  The realization sent my consciousness pummeling into my body, and then my eyes snapped open.

  With the heat scraping at the back of my throat, I forced myself back onto my seared feet and ran with everything I had. My body, far beyond bruised and battered, hurled itself through the tunnel, knocking into the sides of the makeshift walls as I ran for the exit. The further I got from the black flames, the more bearable the heat became, but I knew the damage had already been done.

  I could feel it under my charred flesh as I staggered through each step, struggling to keep upright. I could feel it inside my lungs, hear the wheeze as I tried to pull in air. I could feel it in my eyes and their inability to shed a single tear despite the excruciating pain I was in. My lips, seared in place, could not utter a single word, not even a cry for help.

  The stairs came into view and my legs nearly gave out. But I knew I had to keep going. I had to make it all the way out on my own or risk dying an unbearable death a mere ten feet away from my friends.

  The air rasped in and out of my lungs as I continued to put one foot in front of the other. My fingers were wound tightly around the book, burned into place from the flames. But I had the book. I’d done it, and I was going to see this through to the end.

  Reaching the base of the stairs, I tried to lift my leg to take the first step, but my legs—my flesh—had been burned clear off. I couldn’t bend my limbs, and the pain…the pain of trying to bend my legs in a way they no longer had the ability to move was insurmountably unbearable.

  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to walk up these steps, no matter how much determination I had, so I let myself drop forward onto my hands, my back stiff as a board, my elbows and knees at a perfectly straight angle, and I crawled up each step, never stopping or slowing until I made it to the surface and collapsed.

  “JEMMA!”

  I heard my name being screamed into the strange indigo night, and while I had no idea who had shouted my name, I knew I’d made it and that they could see me now, and I finally closed my eyes.

  30. BREATHLESS

  Somewhere in the peripheral of my awareness, I knew there were people nearby; I could hear the sound of their feet shuffling back and forth while an alarm clock beeped steadily in the background. It occurred to me that I might still be sleeping—possibly even dreaming—which might’ve explained why I couldn’t seem to open my eyes to save my life.

  What I couldn’t explain was that other noise. The one that sounded like an air compressor holding and releasing air in steady beat
s. How was I expected to sleep with that horrendous sound in my ear?

  I couldn’t—and believe me, someone was going to pay for that because if there was one thing I wouldn’t put up with, it was people getting in the way of my sleep.

  Only I couldn’t seem to get any words out. Or breath in.

  My eyes snapped open in a panic.

  There was something wedged in my throat and it was making me gag—no, it was choking me. Instinctively, my hands flew up to my mouth, fumbling around the opening as I tried to pull out whatever the hell had been shoved down there.

  “Oh, shit! Nurse! She’s waking up!” I heard a baritone voice yell. “Get the doctor in here now!”

  Tears sprung to my eyes as I continued to gag, my eyes too weak and blurry to take in the burning florescent lights above head or make out anything around me.

  “Jemma! It’s me Trace. You’re okay, just stay calm,” he said and pulled my hands down to my sides, away from the tube that was choking me. “The doctor’s coming. I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!” he yelled again.

  “Sir, you’re going to need to wait outside,” said a woman, her feet smacking against the floor as she moved to my side. “Sir! Outside! NOW! We need space.”

  Blinking through the tears, I strained to open my eyes just in time to see Trace being pulled away from me. I wanted to tell him not to go—that I was scared. That I wanted him to stay with me, but I couldn’t speak…

  I couldn’t call out for him.

  “Mam, it’s going to be fine. I’m going to remove the breathing tube from your airway.”

  Wait. Did she just say breathing tube?

  After nearly an hour of prodding me with needles and various exams, the doctors finally left my room, giving me a quiet moment to allow everything to sink in. It was only after the breathing tube was removed that I was able to calm down enough to remember everything that had happened. The Veil. The Sang Noir.

  The excruciating agony of being burned alive.

  I looked down at my arms and winced. The charred flesh had healed considerably, but the scars of what happened that night still remained. As hard as it was to look at them, I considered myself lucky to even be alive. Even the nurse had mumbled something about being a medical miracle, and while I’m sure my Descendant blood played a huge role in how quickly I’d healed, I knew the only miracle at play here was the fact that I had the Immortal Amulet around my neck.

  I’d be dead without it. Several times over.

  My hospital room door cracked open as Trace peeked his head inside. A medley of emotions swirled across his face as his gaze landed hard on me. There was so much going on in his eyes, I wasn’t even sure how to start deciphering it.

  “You’re awake,” he said, still standing by the door.

  “I am,” I answered softly, my throat still raspy from being intubated. “Come in.”

  He nodded and then walked toward me, taking a chair from the corner of the room with him and then settling it down on the floor beside my bed.

  “Were you in my room before?” I asked him, making sure I hadn’t dreamed it.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but his eyes were saying something entirely different. “I’ve been here every day since the Veil. Gabriel too. I take the day shift; he takes the night shift.”

  My heart sputtered in my chest at his admission. “You guys didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, we kind of did,” he said, and my mind immediately snapped to Dominic.

  There was so much more I wanted to ask him, to say to him, but I didn’t have it in me to deal with Dominic just yet. It was too big and too much and too confusing.

  “So, what happened with the book?” I croaked out instead, pressing my palm against my throat to help ease the pain. I needed to know what had happened. To make sure it hadn’t all been in vain.

  Trace immediately reached out and took my hand in his. “Gabriel brought it to the Council as soon as you were stabilized.” He gestured to our touching hands, letting me know he could hear my thoughts now.

  Did they find what they were looking for? I asked silently, grateful to be giving my vocal cords a break.

  “Not yet.” His jaw muscle popped, and I knew bad news was coming. “They’re still trying to translate the text. It’s not written in any language they recognize.”

  And the Horsemen? I asked wearily. Any news on them?

  “Nothing in days,” he answered and then squeezed my hand as if to lessen the blow.

  Days? I gaped at him. How long have I been in the hospital?

  He opened his mouth to answer me and then reconsidered. Now wasn’t the time to play with me.

  “Trace! How long?!” I snapped out loud, my voice raw and panicked.

  His shoulders sank a little when he finally answered, “Two Weeks.”

  Dammit! I grabbed the blanket and tried to throw it off me but Trace immediately stilled my hand.

  “Woah, what the hell are you doing?” he asked as if I’d just tossed all my marbles onto the floor.

  “What does it look like? I need to get out of here. Right now,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice to a whisper as I pushed onto my knuckles and sat myself up.

  “You’re not serious,” he scolded, his eyes narrowed and furious as though I’d just personally insulted him. “You almost died. Do you even get that?”

  Like that was anything new. That was literally THE story of my life.

  “And?” I barked as I grabbed an IV tube and yanked it out of my arm. The machine immediately started wailing. “I’m not going to just lay here like an invalid while the Horsemen continue to gain ground.”

  “Jemma—”

  The door crashed open just as I swung my feet over the bed. A herd of nurses and doctors came barreling into the room as though I’d just coded blue right there in my bed. Which, according to the monitors I’d been hooked up to, I was.

  Shit.

  “Get back in your bed right now or we will restrain you!” ordered the heftier nurse with the take-no-shit attitude.

  The minute I saw her face, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. At least not in this state and not without some very specialized help.

  “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave now. Visiting hours are over.” When he didn’t move right away, she quickly added, “Or do we need to call security?”

  Trace nodded despondently and then backed away from my bed, his shoulders hunched with worry as he walked towards the door as the two nurses prepped my arm for a needle.

  “Call Gabriel!” I yelled to him as the hefty one jammed the syringe into my arm. Almost immediately, my eyes felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds each.

  He nodded and then left the room, closing the door behind himself almost as quickly as my eyes slipped shut.

  I roused from my sleep sometime later to the feel of cool knuckles grazing across my cheeks. My eyes fluttered open, my heart beating wildly, knowing with every cell in my body that it was Dominic even before I saw him. And for the tiniest sliver of a second, I’d forgotten everything that had happened with him before I’d gone into the Veil, and I was happy again. I was safe and calm and loved, and then reality swopped in to throat-punched the farce into oblivion.

  “Hello, angel.” His smooth voice was as sweet as honey, but his dark eyes were shallow and void of all the things that used to be there when he looked at me.

  My heart jackhammered in my chest as I smacked his hand away and pushed back into the pillow. “Don’t touch me,” I warned, my voice still raw and raspy from all the trauma.

  Even in my scrambled state, I knew he wasn’t my Dominic anymore, no matter how comforting his touch felt. It was a lie, just like the rest of him—his gentle touch, that crooked smile, even the soothing lilt to his voice. None of it was real. He was just an illusion now made up of nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

  “Is that any way to greet your boyfriend?” he asked, his eyebrows pulling together in a frown that only further contra
dicted the smirk on his lips. His expression was all wrong and I hated his face for it.

  “You’re not my boyfriend. You’re nothing to me.” The words quivered out of me pitifully because I didn’t have enough fire in me to say it with any real conviction. I was too sedated to be fearless. Too heartbroken to be lethal.

  His smile grew wider. “You always were a terrible liar.”

  “Get the hell out of my room.” I wanted so bad to jump out of the bed and run until my legs gave out, but I knew I wouldn’t make it very far if I did. My eyes were far too heavy and my head much too muddled from the sedative I’d been given. “Gabriel’s going to be here any minute.”

  He chuckled softly as he pulled up the chair Trace had been sitting on earlier and dropped it beside my bed. With his menacing eyes still attacking me with their shadows, he sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. “I’m not worried about my brother. I have these little visits of ours down to a science.”

  I swallowed the terrible knot in my throat as I realized this wasn’t his first visit.

  “Don’t look so surprised, angel,” he chided me, reading my thoughts as though I’d inked them across my face. “How else do you think you healed so quickly?”

  I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t speak. Angry tears stung the corners of my eyes as I glared at the condescending look on his face. He wanted me to know he’d been here while I was unconscious. That he could access me whenever he wanted and that there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  Not yet anyway.

  A knowing smirk pulled the edge of his lip up. “In any event, it’s nice to finally see your eyes again,” he went on casually like this conversation between us was completely normal and consensual. “You had me quite worried.”

  I scoffed disbelievingly. “Unless your master allowed you turn your emotions back on, I highly doubt that.”

  “Touché.” He pushed forward in his chair, bringing himself dangerously close to my personal space. “But actually, I was worried I was going to have to find myself another toy to play with. And I must say, I rather do enjoy playing with you.” He ran a lean finger along my forearm, slow and daunting, but I quickly slapped it away.