Invidious

by Bianca Scardoni

  “Hello, angel.” Dominic moved up beside me, falling in line as I walked the edge of the fog-kissed park.

  “Dominic,” I greeted him coolly.

  “Any luck with your search?” he asked, his hands crossed behind his back.

  “What kind of a sick joke is that?”

  “I was referring to the Amulet,” he whispered, craning his head in my direction.

  “Oh.” I released the breath I’d been holding in. “Sorry about that.”

  “I take it you have no good news to share.”

  A grin appeared on my face. “Actually, I do,” I said without meeting his eyes. “I have the Amulet.”

  His eyes snapped to me. “You jest?”

  I shook my head proudly. “Nope.”

  “How did you get it back?”

  “It’s kind of a long story. What matters is, I got it back.” I had no more time to waste. We were on a need to know basis and what he needed to know was I wasn't playing games anymore. “When are we meeting up to figure out how we're doing this?”

  “My schedule is always clear for you, love.”

  “I want Taylor home, Dominic, and I want Engel dead. He needs to be stopped before it’s too late, and I’m doing it with or without you.” I stopped walking and turned to him. “If you want out, now is your chance.”

  The smirk on his smooth face let me know he was up for the challenge—excited even. “Duly noted.”

  “And note this,” I said, jabbing my finger in his chest. “If you turn on me again, in any way, so help me God I'm going to make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.”

  “I have no intentions of crossing enemy lines,” he said, covering my finger with his hand and lowering it. “We're on the same side now, angel. My goal is the same as yours.”

  “And the Amulet?”

  “I would be lying if I said I wouldn't prefer to possess it; however, your lovely hands are a satisfactory second,” he said, turning my hand over as if to inspect the evidence.

  I pulled my hand back. “You better not be lying to me.”

  “I assure you, the only lying I wish to do with you is of the horizontal variety,” he whispered, leaning in as a group of searchers walked by us.

  My cheeks heated up. “In your freaking dreams.”

  “Indeed.” His grin hiked up at the corners as his eyes twinkled with salacious want. “And yours.”

  For God’s sake. “Bye, Dominic.” I turned on my heel and started walking off, but he was right there beside me—moving in tandem as if we’d been tied together by some cursed-from-hell rope.

  “I met with Engel today,” he said without looking down at me. Obviously, he knew that would get my attention.

  I stopped walking again. “You did what?”

  “Simmer down, angel.” His eyes focused on some unknown marker ahead of us. “We have to keep up the facade. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m supposed to be assisting him in the recovery of the Amulet.”

  “Right.” It was becoming impossible to keep up with all the crap, lies, and alibis. “So, what did you find out?”

  “The Amulet, of course, is still top priority. However, he does appear to be quite tickled at the prospect of seeing you again,” he said, glancing down at me. “You seem to have that effect on my kind.”

  “Lucky me,” I said bitterly. I was pretty much a Revenant magnet at this point. I could only imagine my fate once the Cloaking spell was broken and all barriers were removed.

  “He's certainly vested in discovering what you really are. He thinks you could be the one to bring his plans into fruition,” he explained and then licked his lips. “Your blood, that is.”

  A chill ran down my back. I already knew my blood was the key because of what future Trace had told me, but I certainly didn't think Engel would already be looking in my direction.

  “After all, it did appear to be the reason why he was unable to be slayed that night. I, myself, am also rather interested in this anomaly and whether or not it was just a fluke.” He peered down at me, his eyes as dark as a bottomless well. “And I suggest we figure it out before Engel does.”

  “He's not getting within a mile of my blood,” I assured him, fists balled up at my sides as if I had any actual control over the situation. “The only person who needs to know what I am is me.” Not Engel, my uncle, the Council or anyone else for that matter. “I'll figure it out on my own.”

  “And how exactly are you going to do that?” he challenged. “Do you have a secret lab of scientists somewhere that are equipped to test out the immortality component of your blood?”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps Gabriel offered to be your subject?” he asked mockingly. “Is he going to taste your blood and then repeatedly stake himself in the heart—though I’m sure the martyr would revel in the opportunity,” he added under his breath.

  “Don't be ridiculous, Dominic.”

  “Then tell me, love, how pray tell are you going to figure this out on your own?”

  “I haven't ironed out all the details yet.”

  “You don’t say?” he said, feigning surprise.

  I shot him an irritated look as I shifted my weight.

  “If you quit being so stubborn, you may just realize that I’m the answer to your problem. I can help you, angel.”

  “Help me, or help yourself to me?” I crossed my arms over my chest and braved a step forward. “I bet you're just dying to have yourself another bite. Well, you can forget it, pal! It's not going to happen.”

  His mouth twitched into a smile. “I don’t have to bite you to taste your blood, temptress. There are other ways,” he reminded.

  I guess he kind of had a point there. I didn’t bother giving him the satisfaction of saying it out loud, though.

  “We can make this as platonic and scientific as you like.”

  I bit my lip as I mulled it over.

  “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said, his eyes zeroing in on my mouth as though completely intrigued by what I was doing.

  I released my lip and narrowed my eyes at him. I'd seen that look in his eyes before—right before he bit me.

  “Are you even capable of having a conversation with me without thinking about food?”

  “Food is the very last thing on my mind.” His lazy, lopsided grin let me know where his mind had gone

  “I’m not sure which one is worse.”

  “They’re both equally good, angel.”

  My cheeks burned as the blood rushed up to my face.

  “You’re welcome to take me up on it anytime. And my offer to help you is still withstanding, of course.”

  “Right.” I shook away the distraction. “I need to think about it,” I said and then quickly corrected myself, “about your offer to help me figure things out! Not the other thing. Obviously.” I blushed again.

  “Yes, obviously,” he reiterated, a knowing smirk on his lips. “The choice is yours, angel, though I do hope you make the right one. You ought to know the truth about yourself,” he said as he glanced over my shoulder and scowled. “I'm more than willing to help you.”

  “Help her with what?”

  I jumped at the sound of the unexpected voice. Covering my racing heart, I spun around to find Gabriel walking towards us, dressed in his usual dark jeans, black leather jacket, and signature frown.

  Shit. “Gabriel! Hey. Wow. Where did you come from?” I asked, hoping my inquiry would derail his own questions.

  His mouth tightened into a line. “What's going on?” he asked, his face draped in suspicion.

  “We were just talking about the search perimeters. Dominic offered to split up the area,” I said, flinging my arm out as if a demonstration would help solidify the lie.

  Gabriel's stare turned to ice as he focused in on his half-brother. “What the hell are you up to now, Dominic?”

  “Whatever do you mean, brother?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” answered Gabriel, his voice as cool, calm, and collected as
he always appeared to be.

  “I'm not up to anything. I’m simply lending a hand.”

  He bounced his eyes back and forth between the two of us as though we'd just been caught with our hands in the proverbial cookie jar. “What are you doing out here with him?”

  “Nothing,” I said, my tone unnaturally high. “He’s just helping me.”

  Gabriel scoffed. “We both know Dominic doesn’t help anyone but himself.” He bore his worried eyes into me. “You can't trust him, Jemma. You know this.”

  “Apparently, she can,” answered Dominic with a smirk on his lips. He was obviously working hard to provoke his brother, and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. “Apparently, you’re the one she doesn’t trust.”

  Gabriel’s jaw muscles tightened; his hands clenched by his side. He looked like a dormant volcano that could blow at any minute.

  “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” I said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t listen to him.”

  He looked at me and frowned. “I don't know what he's filling your head with, but you know better than this. He’s a liar. It’s what he is—what he’s always been.”

  “I know,” I said under my breath.

  “Is he threatening you?”

  “No, of course not. We’re just trying to find Taylor.”

  “There. You heard it from her own lovely mouth,” said Dominic smugly from the sidelines. “Now run along, brother.”

  “Would you seriously just shut up?” I snapped, turning back to Dominic. He was making this a hundred times worse than it had to be, and I wanted to kick him for it.

  Gabriel snagged my hand and drew me away from where Dominic was standing, though he was definitely still in earshot of us. “What's going on, Jemma?” His olive-green eyes were etched with concern. “You can tell me. You don't have to be afraid of him.”

  “I'm not afraid of him, Gabriel.” Surprisingly, my voice didn't falter when I said it. “Nothing is going on, I promise. You worry too much. Everything is fine.”

  I could tell he didn't believe me, and although it broke my heart to lie to Gabriel, I knew that telling him would only lead to Tessa's involvement in this, and I couldn't have that. She wouldn't listen to reason; she wouldn't listen to me. I was her little sister after all—what did I know?

  I couldn't take the risk; not when Taylor's life was at stake. Not when my own life was on the line.

  This is the way it had to be.

  18. GRUDGE MATCH

  Trace avoided me at school the next day for most of the morning. At least that's how it felt. By the time the lunch bell rolled around, I was determined to confront him about his sudden change in demeanor towards me. Unfortunately, Nikki had beat me to the punch and was already at his locker, eating up all his time and personal space with her big mouth and designer perfume I could smell halfway down the hall.

  She obviously never heard of the whole “less is more” thing.

  For a split second, I had the urge to walk over to her and tell her all about it, but I quickly retracted my cat-claws knowing I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night to handle twelve rounds with Nikki Parker.

  Before either of them saw me, I spun on my heel and headed back the other way towards the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was already sitting down at the usual table.

  “Hey, Blackburn,” smiled Caleb, his arm strung over the chair beside him. “I saved you a seat.”

  “Thanks,” I said, plopping down in the chair with my paper brown lunch bag in hand. Having completely lost my appetite, I didn’t bother opening it.

  “What’s up, Jem?” said Ben, who was sitting on the other side of the table with Hannah and Carly. There was a somberness in his voice lately, a sadness in his eyes that was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t help but think it had everything to do with missing Taylor. Not even Carly (who was working hard to liven up his mood by talking to him about some new Sci-Fi show on TV) had any luck turning around his gloomy disposition.

  And, as per usual, Morgan didn’t even bother looking up from her phone.

  “No shadow today?” asked Caleb, glancing over my shoulder as though searching for something.

  “Huh?”

  “That six-foot something half-blood that’s been following you around everywhere lately.” There was more than a hint of irritation in his voice.

  “Last I saw him, he was with Nikki at his locker.”

  “Figures,” he said, looking downright aggravated now.

  “They’re just working on something together.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince more, myself or Caleb.

  “I bet they are.”

  I gave him a warning look. I didn’t need him fanning the flames in my head any more than they already were.

  “Are you coming to the game tonight?” he asked, plucking a french fry from the top of his plate. “Brand new tendy just came up from Whistler. It’s gonna be a gongshow.”

  I laughed. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means you need to start coming to my games,” he said, tweaking his eyebrows. “Seriously, you should be there. We’re dedicating the whole thing to Taylor.”

  Ben stopped listening mid-sentence and looked up at me. I could see the loss in his eyes; the concern for Taylor. It was as though he knew her life was sitting in the palm of my hands, and worse, he didn't think I had a chance in hell of bringing her home alive.

  I looked back at Caleb and shook my head. “I have a family thing tonight. I don't think I can get out of it.”

  The truth was, I was going to see Dominic. After tossing and turning in my bed for most of the night, I had decided that Dominic was right. I needed to know exactly what my blood was capable of doing and the effect it had on Revenants. And I needed to figure it out before Engel did. Living in the dark corners of denial with self-inflicted blinders on was no longer an option for me. And I didn't want it to be one.

  “That sucks,” he said, looking down in disappointment. His head bounced back up a moment later. “You're coming to my party on Saturday though, right?”

  Trace appeared at the table just as I was about to answer Caleb. His dark hair was brushed back from his face, and his shoulders were high and wide, like he was coming up on enemy territory. There was no smile on his lips but they looked beautiful and inviting just the same.

  “I, um” —was apparently extremely distracted by said lips—I turned back to Caleb, blank-faced. “What was the question again?”

  “He wants to know if you’re going to his party,” answered Trace, eyeing the two of us before taking a seat next to me.

  “Right.” I looked at Caleb again and shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably. I mean, I think so,” I offered, though at this point, I had no idea if I’d even still be alive by Saturday.

  Caleb’s gaze veered to Trace, who was slumped back in his chair with his feet kicked out in front him and his eyes pinned straight ahead, glaring at some unknown marker.

  “How about you?” asked Caleb. “You coming Saturday?”

  “Nah, man. I’m busy.” Trace didn’t bother making eye contact with him when he answered.

  “Yeah. Busy doing what?” Caleb’s tone was noticeably more aggressive. He lifted his chin a little as though he wanted to add some height to his frame. “Or should I say who?”

  This was quickly going nowhere good.

  Trace turned slowly, his beautiful eyes cold and hard and damn-near unrecognizable. “Don’t worry about it, jockstrap. I’ll handle my business. You handle yours.”

  “Your business?” challenged Caleb and then leaned in like he wanted to drop a secret. “Are you talking about Nikki? Or is this Jemma’s week?”

  The chair screeched back across the floor as Trace jumped up to his feet. “You got something you want to say to me?”

  “I thought I just did,” said Caleb, knocking his own chair back as he stood up to join Trace.

  “Stop it, both of you!” I popped up with my arms
spread out on each side, and consequently, landed myself square in the middle of their standstill. “I thought you were friends.”

  “Obviously not,” spat Caleb.

  “Yeah, because if you were, you wouldn’t be trying to snake in on my girlfriend behind my back.”

  “Which girlfriend are we talking about again?”

  Trace’s fist snapped out so fast I barely had time to register the movement. Caleb was on the floor, dazed from the hit, but only for a second before he bounced back to his feet and rushed Trace like a linebacker.

  “Stop it!” I yelled, but it was too late. They were already ripping into each other in front of half the school population.

  Ben quickly slid across the table and threw himself in the middle of the scrap. His shoes screeched against the floor as he ducked and dodged while trying to separate the two of them.

  I heard someone yell out to call the principal but they were quickly shot down with a roar of boos from the crowd.

  “Relax, dude. Relax!” grunted Ben as he struggled to stay in between them. It took everything he had to push them apart and he was quickly losing ground.

  “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” chanted the crowd.

  “Jemma, get him out of here!” ordered Ben as he hung onto each of them by the collar of their shirts.

  I rushed up and grabbed Trace’s arm, pulling him backwards towards me with all my might as Ben pushed Caleb in the opposite direction. The cafeteria erupted in a fit of disappointment as the afternoon entertainment came to an abrupt end.

  “We’ll finish this later,” threatened Caleb over the noise.

  Trace’s dimples appeared on both sides. “I’m looking forward to it, jockstrap.”

  The biting wind slashed through my hair, whipping it around my cheeks and neck as I followed Trace outside. The ground was still wet from this afternoon’s rain, the clouds still gray and swollen with angry tears. A clap of thunder exploded in the distance, but I barely registered the sound. I was far too preoccupied keeping up with the raging Reaper in front of me.