Invidious

by Bianca Scardoni

  I felt the heat rush up to my cheeks as he leaned down and brushed his lips against mine.

  Something told me that nothing with Trace would ever feel as mundane and uneventful as normal.

  We spent the rest of the night alone in my room, holding each other as though we didn’t know how to exist without the other, and while we both flirted on the edge of our forever, neither one of us crossed over that line again.

  24. BLOODSPORT

  I spent most of Friday evening training with Gabriel at Temple. Although I could probably think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing on any given Friday night, I knew it was what I needed to be doing. The harder I trained, the better my chances were at facing off against Engel and anything else out there that meant to cause me or the people I loved harm.

  Gabriel seemed to be impressed with how well things were progressing. I could tell that he sensed a shift in my attitude and that I was finally taking my training seriously.

  “Nice takedown,” he said, complimenting me after I kicked his feet out from under him and knocked him to the ground. He was sprawled out on the sparring mat and never looked prouder.

  “Thanks.” I smiled proudly and offered him my hand.

  He took it and hopped back up to his feet quickly, a small smile sprouting on the corner of his mouth. “You’re getting stronger every day, Jemma. It’s only a matter of time now.”

  “Before what?” I asked, retying my ponytail.

  “Before you no longer need me.” He tipped his head once like an exclamation mark to his statement.

  A pang of sadness seeped into my heart at the thought of no longer having this time with Gabriel. He’d become so much more to me than just my temporary Handler. He was my mentor, my friend, someone I could always count on to look out for me—to throw me over their shoulder and carry me home when I’d had too much to drink.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “You will be,” he said with certainty. “This is what you were meant to do. Once the spell is fully broken, you will feel the pull—the call to service.”

  “My uncle doesn’t think they’ll be able to break the spell without the talisman,” I said, watching his expression for any clues as to what he was thinking. “He said something about an ancient ritual.”

  “Invocation.” His olive-colored eyes seemed to dim at the uttering of the word.

  “That bad?”

  “I haven’t witnessed it personally, but I have heard...rumors.”

  “And?” I was certain none of them were good. His hesitation to answer only further confirmed it for me.

  “From what I’ve heard, it’s dangerous and archaic,” he finally said sans emotion. “Frankly, I’m surprised it was even mentioned. Invocation is supposed to be a last resort.”

  “A last resort? Archaic?” My face contorted at his strange choice of words. “What the hell kind of ritual is this?”

  “The only way to invoke your abilities would be to bring you as close to death as possible,” he explained calmly, like he was teaching me how to flip a freakin' pancake. “By removing the safety net entirely.”

  “And how exactly are they going to do that?”

  Gabriel struggled to answer.

  “Think one ravaged beast, one Slayer-to-be and a fight to the death in an arena for our personal enjoyment,” answered Julian as he tossed the magazine he was reading onto the bench.

  My eyes snapped back to Gabriel. “He’s’ joking, right?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “That’s absurd, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.”

  “Human law doesn’t apply to us, Jemma. Not in that way.”

  “They don’t call it an ancient ritual for nothing,” said Julian, smirking. He was getting way to much enjoyment out of this. I bet he was just dying to get himself a front-row seat, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I’d get my head torn off.

  “There’s no way I’m doing that,” I said, deciding to just reject the whole idea in its entirety. “We need to start training harder. My uncle said it’s possible to invoke my abilities on my own so that's what we're going to do,” I informed, deciding to leave out the part where he said that it wasn’t very likely to happen.

  “Yes, it’s possible,” said Gabriel, his steadfast eyes fixed on me. “We’d have to up the threat level significantly.”

  “Maybe we can start training outside of Temple,” I suggested. The only real way to raise the threat level was to put myself in an uncontrolled environment. I knew Gabriel would never hurt me, and that was great for our friendship and all, but it did nothing for scaring my Slayer abilities out of me.

  “The Council would have to approve it first,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair.

  “They’ll never allow that,” sneered Julian, pleased by the rock and hard place I’d just found myself in.

  “Well maybe I’m not going to ask them for their permission.” I turned back to Gabriel, my eyes burning with wild determination. “They’re not the one that has to go into the Arena—I am, so shouldn’t I get to make the call on this? You yourself said the whole thing was archaic.”

  He didn’t say anything but I could see the agreement in his eyes. “It may not have to come to that,” he offered instead, doing his best to keep things on a positive, rule-abiding note. “The Cloak is fading. Your essence is breaking through more and more every day.”

  “My essence?”

  “Your scent. If I can sense you, it’s only a matter of time before you can sense me as well.”

  “Really?” I felt a small ray of hope ignite inside me.

  “It’s slow moving, yes, but it is working.”

  I thought about it. “All the more reason to step-up my training then, right?” Unfortunately for me, I was quickly running out of time and no longer had the luxury of letting things naturally run their course.

  “That does appear to be the best course of action.”

  “So you’ll talk to the Council then? You’ll make them see it our way, right?”

  “I’ll get us an audience with the Magister,” he conceded after a short pause. “We’ll present our request and take it one day at a time.”

  If by one day at a time, he meant that we were doing this with or without them, then I was totally on board. I wasn’t entirely sure Gabriel would be willing to step out of line when it came to Council orders, but one thing I knew for sure, I wasn’t stepping foot in that arena.

  I would do this myself if I had to.

  All I needed was one feral Revenant and someone to back me up in case things went really, really wrong. Trace was a scratch right off the bat. He was too invested in me to ever let a hair on my head be moved. Knowing this, I would instantly feel at ease with him watching over me, which would do nothing for raising my personal threat level.

  That only left one person...

  Dominic.

  Somehow it always came back to Dominic. After all, he was the obvious choice. Firstly, he didn’t care about me—not in any real way anyway. He was strong, available, and twisted enough to agree to it. Heck, he’d probably even get a kick out of watching me fall to my knees at the mercy of some untamed Rev.

  All I needed was a little incentive to win him over, a little something to make it worthwhile for him. And I had just the right thing pumping through my veins. Only question was, would I be willing to give it to him?

  25. THE PLAN

  Trace picked me up later that evening after Gabriel and I finished training, and together we headed over to Dominic’s for round two of our experiment. My uncle Karl had no problem letting me stay out late on account of it not being a school night, though I’m sure it had more to do with the fact that I was with Trace. We’d left him under the false pretense that Trace was taking me out for a late-night dinner and movie. Frankly, he seemed rather ecstatic about the whole idea. I still couldn’t figure out why he and Peter Macarthur seemed so adamant on me and Trace spending time together, but I knew something ha
d to be up with that.

  Of course, there was the obvious reason: they hoped that it would tempt Trace to rejoin the Order and take his rightful place as my Keeper. But was that all there was to it? Something told me I was only scratching the surface when it came to the secrets my uncle and Trace’s father were keeping.

  “Care for a drink, love?” asked Dominic as Trace stepped out of the room to take a phone call. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

  I looked down at his assortment of dark liquor and shook my head. I could still taste the vomit at the back of my throat from the last time I “took the edge off”.

  A crooked grin danced across his lips as though I’d done something cute or amusing to him. “You really should learn to loosen up, angel.”

  “I think I’m loose enough.” I cringed at my own poor choice of words as Dominic chuckled softly. “I meant that I don’t need to be relaxed. In fact, I need to be exactly the opposite of relaxed.”

  “You ought not to take life so seriously.” He walked over to the sofa and took a seat next to the raging fire. “It’s not like any of us are going to make it out alive. Well, unless you're immortal like me, that is.”

  “Deep,” I said, flopping down into the chair across from him. My wooden stake dug into the back of my leg, prompting me to spring back up. I pulled out the stake from my back pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table.

  “I see your training is progressing delightfully,” he said, picking up my weapon and examining it. “You know they mean business when they give you your very own stick,” he said mockingly, his silky voice laced with contempt.

  “Yeah, and I know how to use it too,” I warned him. Even though my aim still wasn’t perfect, it had significantly improved over the course of my training and I was fairly certain I could hit my mark on the first shot. Second at the most. “Now I just need to figure out how to carry the stupid thing. It keeps cutting into my leg every time I sit down,” I added, irritated by the inconvenience. I’d come dangerously close to tearing myself a new one on more than one occasion.

  He got up and casually strode over to the bookshelf. Opening a small box, he pulled out a narrow leather case with a strap attached and threw it over to me.

  “What is it?”

  “A sheath,” he said plainly as I fumbled with it in my hands. “It goes around your ankle, love.”

  “I knew that.” I turned it right-side up and then smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  Sitting back down on the sofa, he crossed his leg and watched as I pulled up my pant leg up and angled the holster against my calf.

  “I met with Engel again this evening,” he informed, his eyes still fixed on my exposed leg.

  My eyes cut to him.

  “I attempted to syphon some information from him,” he continued and then licked his lips, “about that temptress bloodline of yours.”

  “And?”

  “I'd say things have taken a turn for the worse.” His dark eyes met mine lazily. “He was asking a lot more questions, and offering a lot less answers.”

  “What kind of questions?” I asked, quirking a brow at him.

  “About your habits, your friends, places you frequent. He seems rather preoccupied with you—with discovering what you really are.” He spoke evenly, like he was discussing the menu at a restaurant and not my goddamned life. “My guess is, he already knows something but he hasn't put all the pieces together yet. Either way, it's not particularly looking good for you, angel.”

  That noose-like chokehold was back with a vengeance.

  “What about the Amulet? Do you think he’s planning on going back on our deal? The Amulet for Taylor?” Not that I had any intention of following through with it, but it would certainly make it harder for us to guess his next move if he had his own plans in mind.

  “I can’t say for sure, though he certainly appears to have shifted gears.”

  “We can't leave anything to chance.” I tightened the strap on my sheath and then lowered my pant leg. “We need to make the first move—catch him off guard.”

  “Like an ambush?” verified Dominic as he sipped his drink.

  “Exactly.” I sat back in my chair and thought it over. “I don’t want him to see us coming. It has to be before Friday, otherwise he’ll be ready for us. We’ll be playing right into whatever he might have planned.” I glanced over my shoulder at the entrance to make sure Trace wasn’t heading back our way.

  Dominic’s eyes followed mine. “I think it’s about time we involve the Reaper. I’d venture that he isn’t good for much, but we could certainly use a few extra bodies on our side.”

  Bodies.

  That was exactly what I was afraid of. There was no way I was going to allow Trace to go to his death trying to protect me—to save me. I could only expunge one life-threat at a time and this wasn’t Trace’s day. Even though I had my suspicions about the validity of Morgan’s vision, not to mention her intentions, I still wasn’t sure what to believe and I wasn’t willing to bet Trace’s life on an uncertainty. “I don’t want him involved,” I said firmly.

  “That’s not your decision to make,” said a deep, edgy voice from the entrance way.

  My eyes snapped up to Trace. He was leaning with his shoulder against the wall and a displeased expression on his exquisitely chiseled face.

  “I don’t need you to protect me, Jemma. I’m supposed to protect you.”

  “Well I’m not the one that has the death omen looming over my head,” I countered. “You shouldn’t be there, Trace. It’s too dangerous, and probably suicide. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you knowing it was all my fault.”

  “And if something happens to you instead?” He plodded across the room with purpose. “Do you think I want to live with myself knowing I wasn’t there to protect you?”

  “You’re both making me ill,” interceded Dominic, grimacing at the both of us.

  “This isn’t going anywhere.” I rubbed my temples for relief from the migraine that was beginning to set in.

  “That’s because you’re too busy secretly trying to protect each other rather than working together. You’re going to get yourselves killed, and probably me in the process,” he added dryly. “Stick to the plan, play your role smartly, and each of us will come out of this with what we want.”

  “Yeah, and what is it that we want?” verified Trace, eyeing Dominic suspiciously.

  “The Amulet. The blond. And Engel dead, of course.”

  Trace didn’t appear to be entirely convinced that Dominic’s intentions were pure, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I wasn’t entirely sure of it either.

  “So what is the plan?” I asked him, deciding to get a feel for where his head was before making any outright accusations. “How are we doing this?”

  His stare darkened as the diabolic wheels in his mind began to churn. “It’s fairly simple in theory. You and I go after Engel, Romeo finds the girl and ports her out of there, and when it’s all done and over with, we meet up for milk and cookies to celebrate.”

  “Where are they keeping her?” asked Trace, ignoring Dominic’s blithe comment.

  “She’s on the premises though I’m unsure of her exact whereabouts,” he said casually as though it hardly affected our plan.

  “Then we’re going to need a tracker.”

  “Is that like a GPS?” I asked dimly.

  “Less technical, more biological,” answered Trace. “Someone who can hunt her down by her scent.” He ticked his chin in Dominic’s direction. “A shifter.”

  “Like Ben,” I said and then thought of something. “Does he know what’s going on?”

  Trace shook his head. “You know how he feels about Taylor. He would’ve tried to do something stupid if I told him.”

  “Maybe it’s time to clue him in,” I suggested. “He probably knows her scent better than anyone else, and he’s a Shifter.”

  Trace nodded once. “I’ll get him in.”

  “G
ood. And while we’re on the topic of fragrances,” I began, a troubling thought having just occurred to me, “what about mine? If we’re going to ambush them, won’t they sense me coming? Gabriel said the Cloak is fading.”

  “Yes, I did notice that as well.” Dominic smiled as though he were catching a whiff of it now.

  I waited for him to catch up.

  The smile quickly dropped off. “It would certainly pose a problem if they caught your scent beforehand.”

  “Right. So, what do we do about it?”

  He took a slow sip of his drink, his expression unwavering. “I may have to make the first strike alone.”

  “That’s too dangerous. We don’t know how many of his men will be with him.”

  His grin reappeared. “I can take care of myself, love. You needn’t worry about me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Dominic.” I pinned him under a hard glare. “I need you to help me take him down, and obviously, you can’t do that if you’re dead—or deader than you already are.”

  “Charming.” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa and settled in. “You could, of course, infuse me with your blood. It may give me the necessary edge to withstand the initial onslaught.”

  I nodded at his quick thinking. With the Amulet around my neck, and my blood in his veins, we’d pretty much be unbeatable. I was really starting to like our odds. “So, Ben tracks Taylor, Trace ports them out, and Dominic and I go after Engel.”

  “We’ll meet beforehand to get our affairs in order. Make sure you come armed. You’ll need more than that one stick, love,” he said, ticking his chin to my ankle and then turning to Trace. “And a whole lot of Cinderdust.”

  “Already on it,” said Trace as he pulled out his phone and padded out the room.

  “Call me crazy but I think this just might work,” I affirmed, and surprisingly, my voice didn’t waver when I said it.

  Dominic leaned back, looking satisfied with himself. After a brief stint of silence, he looked across at me pointedly. “You know, love, you’d miss me if I were gone,” he cautioned, though it sounded more like a threat than a warning.