Scion's Awakening (Seven Seals Series Book 3)

by Traci Douglass

  Cold shock froze the blood in his veins. “And the Nephilim have this serum now in their possession?”

  “Sounds like it. That would explain all those bodies your friends saw. If what Sam said is true and they’re slipping it into people’s drinks here at their club, no one would know.”

  “What if they planned to take it beyond this club?”

  “A few drops into a community’s water supply and the residents wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  He stared at her, the realization congealing inside him like sludge. This conspiracy went far deeper than anyone in the heavenly realms had suspected. They could have a global crisis on their hands. The Scion would be so busy dealing with the fallout, they’d have little time to protect their Seal hosts. If the Nephilim’s ultimate goal was to start the Apocalypse, this was good beginning.

  Quinn let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around herself. “I swear I never meant for this to happen. I only wanted to help the world, end famine. But I had a bad feeling the minute Sam announced the sale of the lab to Tolbert International. Then those half-breeds arrived and invaded our lab. From the first moment, I knew something was off about them, that they weren’t…human. I did my best to keep Project Replenish hidden from them, but obviously that wasn’t good enough.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “God, talk about an epic fail.”

  “This wasn’t your fault, Quinn. You couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have though. I should’ve foreseen what awful things might be done with my discovery and stopped. But I didn’t. I was too driven, too focused on my career.” She frowned. “Victor was right. All I cared about was my career, my discovery, my legacy. I never stopped to think about the consequences.”

  “No.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. “This isn’t your fault. We’ll find those responsible and put an end to their plans, I promise.”

  Her gaze searched his, her inner struggle apparent. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, lowering her head. “Wyck, these past few days with you have been wonderful. I have to tell you something... and, well, here goes nothing... I—”

  They both tensed, his Scion instincts on high-alert and her Seal’s power surging. Danger approached, the same danger as that first night in the plaza.

  Nephilim.

  Quinn gasped and pointed toward the stairwell leading down from the roof and back into the club. Victor ran out and toward where they stood, and he wasn’t alone. Two half-breeds were in hot pursuit, their pale skin and white suits glowing in the moonlight. They closed in on the scientist, one with a raised syringe in his hand.

  “Oh, God,” Quinn said, voicing his thoughts. “They’ve got the serum.”

  Wyck grabbed her and they raced toward Victor. The Nephilim tackled the scientist and attempted to inject him. Victor fought back as best he could and Wyck increased his speed, pulling Quinn along behind him so he wouldn’t lose her. She’d pulled her knife and held it ready for attack. As they got closer, she pulled free and sprinted ahead.

  Wyck drew his own dagger and attacked, luring one of the half-breeds away while Quinn and Victor dealt with the other. He circled his opponent, wary of the syringe. The Nephilim attacked, but it was difficult to keep his focus with his Scion instincts demanding he protect Quinn at all costs. The sounds of her fight echoed, keeping him on edge.

  The Nephilim swiped at him with the needle, trying to puncture his skin. Wyck avoided the attacks and kept his distance, assessing the situation. The half-breed moved with him, keeping the gap between them steady, and then lunged twice in a row, a smile on his face as if this were a game.

  They both looked for an opening.

  Then his opponent glanced over to where the other fight took place and Wyck seized his chance, bringing his dagger close to his side, then thrusting the blade forward as he reached the Nephilim. The tip of the blade caught his opponent’s left arm, slicing through suit and skin.

  He attacked again, kicking the half-breed in the back and lunging with his dagger again. The Nephilim evaded, slashing at him once more with the needle. Wyck dodged, narrowly missing the syringe. He had no idea of the effects Quinn’s serum might have on an immortal like him, if any.

  The other Nephilim screeched, and someone yelled Wyck’s name. He spotted Quinn kneeling, supporting Victor. His Scion mark seared, his calling impossible to resist. The other half-breed dove toward Quinn and Wyck held out his palm, sending forth a bolt of light. It stuck the Nephilim on the right thigh. His opponent screamed but Wyck didn’t hesitate. Raising his hand skyward, he used all the strength he could spare to call on Divinity.

  Pain exploded in his left arm.

  Wyck stared down at the empty syringe projecting from his bicep, dangling from the needle still embedded in his skin.

  “Take that, Scion scum.” The Nephilim spat as he yanked the syringe from Wyck’s arm.

  An immediate inferno of agony spread through his veins. The white beam from his palm flickered and the other half-breed encased within it began to break free.

  Wyck couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to protect Quinn, protect his Seal. She was his sworn duty, his reason for existence, his heart and soul. He met Quinn’s gaze, fighting the effects of the serum even as it spread through his blood. Sweat broke out across his skin, and he shivered despite his fiery fever.

  Blinking hard, he put all of his remaining strength into trapping the second Nephilim within the light and protecting Quinn. She cried out, her lips moved but he couldn’t hear her. His vision distorted. He had to hold on, had to protect her. He couldn’t fail.

  She grabbed her knife and sliced into the beam of light. The Nephilim didn’t stand a chance. Quinn quickly slit his throat.

  The other Nephilim had vanished.

  Wyck silently thanked Divinity for her safety, drowning beneath the dark waves washing over him. His dagger slipped from his hand and clattered to the rooftop.

  He collapsed, losing his fight to remain conscious. He didn’t feel the impact, didn’t feel anything in the endless black surrounding him except warmth and peace.

  Then a voice called to him.

  He heard it not with his ears but with his heart.

  Wyck sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t leave her.

  My Quinn. He tried to stand, but couldn’t.

  Strong hands pinned his shoulders and he fought against his restraints. He had to move. Quinn needed him. She was hurting and afraid. He must go to her.

  His arms flailed. There was a crash and a curse then the restraining hands were back. Strength surged through him, fueled by pure Scion fury to get to his Seal, to protect its host, protect Quinn.

  “Please keep still!” Her voice sweet to his ears. “Can’t you give him something to knock him out?”

  “I’m a little busy trying to counteract your serum!” Victor.

  Hands pressed on Wyck’s shoulders again but now he quieted. His senses slowly returned to order, and he mentally checked himself over. His left arm burned from the injection. He remembered it all now. He’d tried to protect Quinn and the Nephilim had seized his opportunity to kill him.

  Except he wasn’t dead.

  Wyck opened his eyes but the world remained black. Pain coursed through his body with each movement, making him nauseous. He swallowed down the bile and tried to sit up.

  “Stop, please,” Quinn whispered, cupping his cheek.

  He relaxed, lacking the strength to fight anyway.

  “Dark.” The word croaked out of his dry throat.

  “I know. Don’t worry.” Quinn stroked his jaw, her touch soft and tender, soothing his pain. “You’ll be fine soon. You were supposed to stay asleep.”

  He’d been out cold, but not because of the serum, apparently.

  She pressed her cool hand to his forehead.

  “Heard you,” he muttered and fought to stay conscious.

  “You did?” She leaned in, until her warm fragrance surrounded him—roses and cinnam
on and clean woman—and her warm breath fanned his face. Her damp cheek touched his and stayed there. He didn’t want to make her cry. He would survive anything, for her. “Sleep a little bit longer. Pleasant dreams.”

  Quinn kissed his cheek and darkness swept over him again.

  He wanted to stay with her, but the pull was too strong.

  This time was different though. Instead of endless black, a beautiful green valley stretched before him, hills rolling toward a sparkling river and the clumps of trees. Bright sunlight shown from a cerulean sky stretching forever into the distance. He took it all in, such a peaceful place. Wyck wasn’t sure how long he was there. Time lost meaning. He stretched out on the grass, staring up at the sky.

  A red kite flew overhead. Majestic and beautiful as it cut through the warm air. Calling again. He stretched his hand upward, as though he could touch it from so far away.

  He smiled. For the first time in eternity he felt tranquil.

  The sun warmed his skin and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, a plain white exam room had replaced the beautiful valley.

  “Thank God, you’re awake.” Quinn leaned over him, her fingertips brushing over his brow. “How are you feeling?”

  He mentally checked his body. His arm was sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

  “Fine.” Wyck frowned down at himself. His blazer and shirt were gone, but his jeans remained. He stared at his left arm. Bandages covered his bicep.

  Quinn lightly touched his stomach, placing her palm over his Scion’s mark. Her fingers shook. “I thought I’d lost you. But Victor was able to filter your blood and remove the serum. I bandaged your arm. I’m so sorry, Wyck.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. He placed his hand over hers.

  “Do you hate me?” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she closed her eyes. His heart ached at the pain etched into her lovely features.

  “Never, Quinn. Why would you think such a thing?” He squeezed her hand. She kept her eyes closed, as though she couldn’t face him.

  “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I only wanted to help.” She sobbed and Wyck pulled her down to him then, tucking her head beneath his chin and ignoring the bright spark of pain through his left arm from the movement. He didn’t care. Quinn sobbed and he stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. She pulled back, lashes wet with the tears, and he cupped her cheek.

  “Quinn.” Wyck brushed her tears away with his thumb. “I know never meant for any of this to happen. You battled the Nephilim as fiercely as I did. You have a good heart. You’re a good person. None of this matters. Nothing matters except you.”

  She gave him a shaky smile and he kissed her.

  His beautiful Quinn.

  He was falling in love with her.

  8

  Quinn helped Wyck off the hospital bed in the small exam room at the lab. He rested his butt on the bed and she held his arm, afraid it was too soon and he’d hurt himself. She’d never imagined the effects her serum might have on an immortal. It hadn’t killed Wyck, but it hand’t done him any favors either—ripping through his tissues and tearing his cells apart. She owed Victor a huge debt for acting quickly and filtering Wyck’s blood to remove the serum. If he’d not been there…

  She shuddered, shoving those awful thoughts away. He had been there, though, thanks to Sam. In the end, it had been Victor’s expertise in hematology that had saved her Wyck.

  He’d mentioned hearing her while he’d been unconscious, but it had to have been a hallucination. She hadn’t said a word to him the whole time Victor had worked She’d been too frightened.

  “Don’t be scared,” Wyck whispered, stroking her cheek. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “But I almost lost you.”

  He gave her a small, strained smile. “Never.”

  “You said you heard me.” Quinn hesitated. “When you were out. What did you hear?”

  Her question sounded ridiculous, and she felt embarrassed to even ask. Still, when he rested his hand over her heart, she needed to know, needed to feel his hands on her, warm and caressing, to make her feel alive and safe again.

  “You called me back.” He took her hand and held it over his heart as well. “Here. This is where I heard you, Quinn. My heart to yours, my Scion’s power to your Seal’s. Through our connection.”

  A shiver danced through her nerve endings. It was true.

  When he’d been dying, she hadn’t been able to find her voice. She’d confessed everything to him in the silence of her heart. That she needed him, that she couldn’t live without him.

  That she loved him.

  He kissed her again, soft and gentle, bringing more tears to her eyes. She’d almost lost him. She didn’t want that to happen ever again, not for any reason.

  He hissed and broke away, his hand pressed to his left arm. “Let me take care of this first.”

  Wyck peeled away the bandages then flexed his fingers over the raised red bump where the needle had penetrated his skin. Light filtered from between his fingers as he healed himself.

  “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Scion’s have hyperactive immune systems. Usually this happens without any effort on my part, but the serum weakened me, so I need to use a bit more power.” He closed his eyes, his expression growing more and more determined. The light brightened to the point where Quinn shielded her eyes. Wyck grunted and flopped back against the thin mattress, his breath ragged and his jaw tense. “I can’t heal completely yet. Still too weak.”

  She reached out to touch the glowing mark on his abdomen, tracing over the swirling lines. His eyes slowly opened again, the gold flecks in his irises swirling.

  Quinn raised a brow. Considering what he’d just been through, she doubted he was up for that sort of activity either, but when she went to take her hand away, Wyck grabbed it, holding it over his mark. She traced the lines of it again then dipped lower, her fingertips grazing the waistband of his jeans.

  His gaze held hers as she unbuttoned then unzipped his fly. The air in the room thickened, the only sounds their mingled breaths as she battled her rising desire. Now really wasn’t the time and this certainly wasn’t the place. Victor was just in the next room. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop.

  She reached inside his jeans and skimmed her fingers along the length of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. Wyck’s gaze held hers as he brought her other hand, the one resting over his heart, to his lips. He kissed each fingert then her palm, continuing on to her wrist and forearm, pulling her closer and closer.

  “Wyck.” He flashed her a wicked smile and her cheeks heated. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, we definitely should. You only seem to say my name like that when you want me.”

  Eyes closed, she couldn’t help remembering another time, hours earlier, when she’d screamed his name as he’d crumpled to the ground, unconscious. She’d been terrified, as if her whole world had fallen apart.

  “Hey?” Wyck cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch, seeking comfort. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. He was here. Alive. Well. Unharmed. More tears welled.

  “Quinn.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  She drew back and met his gaze. His gorgeous eyes held such honesty and tenderness. “I know.”

  Leaning forwards, Quinn kissed him. She sighed, and he took things deeper, his tongue tangling with hers. He was flesh and blood, no longer in pain or dying. He was back with her, where he belonged.

  He kissed along her jaw, nipping occasionally. By the time he reached her throat she felt on fire, thoughts of them together, naked and writhing, pushing aside her doubts and fears. She wanted to shed her inhibitions and embrace her desire, just like those people at Sam’s club.

  Wyck buried his face in her neck, his fingers digging into her sides, the roughness thrilling her. Quinn tilted her head to one side, her stiff nipples brushing against his chest, aching for his atte
ntion.

  A noise in the other room made her freeze. She tensed, her heart pounding.

  “I’ve got it,” he whispered below her ear.

  He waved a hand toward the door and the lock clicked into place. Victor would wonder what was going on, but Quinn didn’t care. Wyck’s kisses chased her worries away until all she could focus on was the delicious feel of him.

  “Tell me what you thought earlier...at the club,” he said, the husky sound in his tone making her tremble. Memories resurfaced, watching those dancers and imagining doing the same things with Wyck. He nibbled on her earlobe, his breath warm on her skin. “Better yet, show me…”

  Hell yes. Quinn kissed him, pouring all her passion into it. It still wasn’t enough. A wildfire ignited inside her, threatening to consume her if she didn’t more of him, all of him. “I want to dance like that…” She swept her tongue over his lower lip. “I want to do all of that…with you.”

  “Quinn” He rolled her beneath him, grinding his hips against hers. She moaned, running her hands over his strong arms, his broad shoulders, then buried her fingers in his silky blond hair. She wanted to feel him. Skin on skin.

  Wyck made fast work of her clothes, tossing them on the floor as he removed them. Her fingers shook with urgent need as she tease him again through the material of his underwear. He muttered something she didn’t quite catch, but it sounded dark and menacing, and a lot like swearing.

  More thunder rolled.

  Quinn gasped at the first stroke of his tongue between her thighs. He slipped his fingers into her warm, slick folds, tasting her again. She shivered as he licked her, teasing her clit with his talented tongue. Each flick sent another bolt of desire through her, notching the heat within her higher. She dug her fingers into his scalp, holding him close. He eased first one, then two fingers inside her, preparing her.