“Look at you, breaking all your own rules again.”
The edge of his mouth curved up slightly.
It was no secret that Trace wanted to spend as little time with me as possible for reasons that were still unclear to me. The funny thing is, between work, school, our circle of friends, and the fact that he was increasingly finding reasons to come talk to me, we probably spent more time together than anyone else in our group.
“What are you in here for?” he asked, tapping his thumb against the desk as he openly examined me.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Started a gang, beat up a few kids from Easton. You?”
“Same.”
I laughed, thinking it probably wasn’t that far from the truth.
He shifted his attention to the other two guys sitting in detention with us. The dark-haired one was scribbling something down in his notebook, possibly sketching, and the other one had his earphones on and was bobbing his head back and forth listening to his music.
“Heard you’re going to the dance with Caleb.” His voice was quiet now, almost as though he were working hard to subdue it.
“As friends,” I clarified. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to specify that part.
He leaned in towards me. “Does he know that?”
“Of course he does.”
His eyebrows dipped with doubt.
“I mean, I think he does. Why? Did he say something?”
“Not really.” He pushed back in his chair, rocking on its hind legs. “He just likes to get under my skin.”
“Under your skin?”
“Yeah.”
“Meaning?” There was a strange undertone I couldn’t ignore. It sounded a lot like jealousy.
“Nothing. Forget it.” He shrugged it off but I couldn’t help but notice the tension in his jaw.
“O-kay.” I dropped it, sensing he wasn’t going to elaborate. Plus, I had more important things to ask him. “So, um, who are you going to the dance with?” I asked choppily. My attempt at sounding casual was a miserable failure.
“I’m not.”
“You’re not going?”
“Nope.” He cocked his head to the side and watched me.
“Why not? I mean, isn’t this thing supposed to be sort of a big deal around here?”
“You’re spending too much time with Taylor.”
I laughed outright because that was exactly who I’d gotten my intel from. Serves me right.
“Besides,” he continued, glancing down at my lips. “The girl I wanted to take is already going with someone else.”
My insides pinched.
Even though my instincts were to assume he was referring to Nikki, I couldn’t stop myself from replaying all the things Taylor said to me the other day. That he looked at me in a special way; that he liked me. I felt the knots in my stomach tighten as my silent hope ignited.
“That’s too bad.”
His eyes flickered down to my mouth again, this time lingering on them as though he were trying to memorize their shape. “It’s probably for the best.”
“Yeah.” My voice was a disappointed whisper. “Probably.”
He dragged his eyes back up to mine. “I’ve been thinking about that trip we talked about the other day.”
Trip? What trip?
“I decided to take you.”
My eyes swelled. Oh my God, he was talking about time traveling—to see my dad. “But what about the um…obstacles?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
“And the…risks?”
“I’ve weighed them out.”
“Are you for real?”
His magnetic dimples flashed as he nodded.
“When?”
“I was thinking Friday night,” he said, working his jaw.
I shot him an irritated look. “Very funny. Friday night is the dance.”
He leaned in close again, this time throwing off my concentration with the comely scent of his cologne. “I know.”
“Why Friday?”
“Why not Friday?”
“Are you trying to stop me from going to the dance with Caleb?” I asked, only half-serious.
“Maybe,” he said, still leaning in close to me. “Or maybe I’m just available that night.” He licked his lips like an invitation.
I pulled back, not wanting to lose complete focus. Again. “Is that really the only time we can do this?”
Wait a minute. Why was I arguing? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see my father again. Who cares about the stupid dance? Crap. Taylor cares, I reminded myself. I didn’t know how well she was going to take it when I told her—
“How about tomorrow?” he asked, letting me off the hook before I could concede. I couldn’t help but notice the discontent in his expression. Or was it sadness?
I didn’t have time to decode it.
“Tomorrow’s good,” I nodded. I couldn’t believe this was going to happen. I was going to see my dad again! What would I say to him? What would I wear? The excitement sizzled through every cell in my being. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”
The school parking lot looked eerily empty—deserted, grayed out from the overcast of swollen clouds. The wind picked up speed as I scanned the lot for Henry, whom I was sure I’d mentioned my after school detention to, but there was no sign of him anywhere. The only cars left were Trace’s blue Mustang on the far left, and an old rusty van about twenty feet out.
Weird, I thought, as I searched my bag for my cell phone.
“Hey, excuse me, miss.” A young woman with pixie blond hair hopped out of the van and started towards me. “We’re kind of lost,” she laughed, scratching the side of her face as she bounced a quick glance at the parked van. “Do you think you could point us in the right direction?”
I adjusted my schoolbag. “It depends where you’re trying to go. I’m still kind of new in town myself.”
“We’re trying to get to this place called, uh—” She turned back to the van. “Babe, what’s it called again?”
A dark haired man with a serious five o’clock shadow slithered from around the side of the van. “Place is called All Saints,” he answered, taking a drag of his cigarette. It sounded as though he had some kind of accent. Or throat cancer.
“You’re pretty far,” I noted. “You’ll need to get back on the throughway and head east towards town.”
“Is that right?” She scratched her neck again and leaned in closer. Her blotchy skin looked as though it could use a generous helping of foundation. “You mind jotting it down for us on our map over there? Bobby’s not too good with directions.”
I looked back at Bobby who offered a slight smile.
Something about them seemed...off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Sure, I guess,” I said without moving. “But I should probably go get my friend. He’s lived here much longer than me and can probably give you better directions.”
“You wouldn’t mind? That would really help us out.”
“It’s no problem,” I smiled and stepped back. Giving them one final look over, I turned and headed back towards the student entrance. Something inside me was telling me to make a run for it but I chose to ignore it, fearful of what I would look like to them if I did.
Besides, it was daytime. They obviously weren’t Revenants so what was I so worried about anyway?
Before I could answer myself, I felt something crash against the back of my head, knocking me to the ground on all fours. A strange taste entered the back of my throat—metallic in nature—nauseating me with its flavor. Stunned, I rolled onto my backside and looked up at the woman as she tossed a fat rock to the side. What the hell just happened? Did she hit me with that? I felt disoriented, tired, like I could sleep for a hundred years and still never be rested enough.
She bent over me, snatching my arms up with her wet, clammy hands. “Grab her legs,” she yelled, and Bobby did.
Suddenly I was suspended in the air being carried away towards the van. The van. Oh God, they
were going to throw me in there. Kidnap me; hurt me; do heaven knows what to me.
I started kicking and thrashing my legs, bucking relentlessly until they could no longer contain my body. Bobby dropped my legs first and ran back to the van as I fought to free my hands. He reemerged from the side door yielding something, but it was only when he stepped out of the shadows that I caught sight of the knife.
“Help!” My frenetic scream exploded in the air like a gunshot. “Someone, please help me!”
“Don’t just stand there,” yelled the blond, struggling to maintain control. “Help me get her in the van, you idiot!”
Bobby ran back to us at full speed, his eyes wild with intention. “Get up!” he ordered, pointing the knife at me.
As soon as he was close enough, I slammed my foot into his knee cap, eliciting a loud pop that caused him to stagger back from the impact. He cursed out in pain, and for the slimmest of seconds, I felt the fervor of hope burn through me at the possibility of having broken his knee, but the lunatic never went down. Was he even human?
He thrust the knife at me again, this time aiming for the side of my leg, but he failed to stick the landing. I kicked the knife out of his hands as the blond snatched up my arms again and began dragging me across the concrete.
“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to free myself from her grasp as my back scraped against the rocky terrain. “HELP!”
“Knock her out, Bobby! Shut her the hell up!”
I kicked my legs out as soon as he came near me, this time aiming for the other knee.
“You want me to cut you, bitch? I’ll cut you,” he warned, flailing the blade in my direction. And then suddenly, he was gone, soaring backwards through the air like a bag of trash.
I looked up and found Trace standing in his place, sublime fury infiltrating every curve of his spectacular face. In an instant, he was perched over me like the statue of an Adonis, freeing me from Blondie as he sent her sailing several feet across the parking lot. But there was no time to thank him, to pray at his alter. Within seconds, she was back on her feet, coming at us again.
“Trace, behind you!” I warned as I watched Bobby rush him from the other side, his knife outstretched.
Trace turned at the last moment and grunted as Bobby made contact with his torso. I couldn’t tell if he’d been punched or stabbed. Panicked, I began crawling towards him but was yanked back by my hair before I could reach them.
Blondie had but one goal and that was to drag me back to that van, with or without Bobby’s help. Fingers entwined in my hair, she dragged me mercilessly as I kicked the air in vain.
“Get off me, you psycho!” I roared through furious tears. All I wanted to do was claw her eyes out with my bare hands. And in that moment, I was sure I could do it if given the chance.
“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” she snarled, ripping at my hair as she dragged me without mercy.
I felt a swell of fire tear through my body. It was fear and rage and panic merging into one big melting pot that had finally hit its boiling point.
I reached back for her arm and used it as a crutch to pull myself back up to my feet. Her hands came out at me again, flailing and desperate, but they never made contact with my body. I was in control now and I wasn’t even sure how I was doing it. With one stabbing look in her hollow eyes, I swung my fist into her face, hitting her square in the jaw. Before her eyes could steady themselves or register the impact, I swung again, knocking her out cold in one final strike.
I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to do it but I felt powerful in that moment, proud even.
Adrenalin coursing through me, I spun around and spotted Trace and Bobby still warring several feet away. Blood stains dotted both their shirts, but I couldn’t tell whose blood it was. Panic over took me at the thought of it being Trace’s, of him being hurt because of me—to save me.
Without thinking, I catapulted myself onto Bobby’s back and began pounding the side of his head with my fist. It was exactly the momentum Trace needed to gain the upper hand. In the blink of an eye, he had snatched the knife from Bobby and turned his weapon against him. But Bobby wasn’t giving up that easy.
He dipped me sideways just far enough so I’d loosen my grip on him and then launched me off his back.
I hit the concrete and bounced.
Within seconds, Trace and Bobby were back in position, ramming into each other again like two raging bulls. Their fists flying through the air, erupting against bone and muscle. I couldn’t bear to sit back and watch, to risk his safety.
I stammered back to my feet and rushed Bobby again, this time tearing and clawing away at his face, at his eyes, doing whatever I had to do to win this fight. To end it. But I didn’t have enough strength left inside me to make any kind of dent. He bent forward and tossed me off his back again, landing me hard against Trace’s body. Both of us went down in a tangle of limbs.
“Stay down,” he ordered, rolling me off his person before jumping back up to his feet.
Winded, I tried to get back up too but didn’t fair nearly as well as Trace did. I was just too tired, too dizzy. Everything was spinning out of control again.
I heard grunting and brash words, though they sounded as though they were coming from a distance—from some far away, long-since forgotten space in time.
And then blackness.
“Jemma? Jemma, open your eyes.”
I blinked several times before focusing in on the most stunning blue eyes I’d ever seen—pristine blue eyes ringed in rich, dark sapphires. Only one man could boast such beauty, such perfection. Somewhere in the hazy recess of my mind, I knew I could spend forever looking in those eyes and still never tire of their resplendent beauty.
“Are you okay?”
“What happened?” I asked, noting the thick gray clouds blooming behind Trace’s head. A part of me hoped, prayed, that it was all just a bad dream. But I knew better.
“We have to go—now. Can you walk?”
I held onto his arm as he pulled me up off the floor and immediately spotted the unconscious blond.
“Where’s the other one?” I looked around and found Bobby splayed out on the concrete, not too far from where we’d been fighting. He was down and bloodied, but still alive.
“We need to get out of here before they wake up. My car’s over there,” said Trace, ticking his head at his parked Mustang.
“Shouldn’t we call someone? The police or something?” I asked, confused. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was here.
“For what? They can’t help us.” He stepped forward and snaked my hand into his, the urgency evident in his eyes. “We’re on our own, Jemma.”
I tossed one more glance in Blondie and Bobby’s direction and gave in, knowing he was right. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I followed dizzily as he led us fast across the parking lot towards his car. Tiny droplets of rain began falling over us, baptizing us with their touch as a mass of angry skies spread out above like a necrotic carpet.
“Drive,” he said, tossing me the keys.
“I can’t! I don’t know how to drive stick. I don’t even have my license!” My voice was several octaves too high.
“Shit.” He bent forward slightly, clutching his side in pain. There was blood all over the place. His blood.
“Oh my God, you’re hurt!”
“Give me the keys,” he ordered, holding up a bloodied hand.
I tossed them back and climbed into the passenger seat.
Within seconds, we were tearing down the back roads heading fast towards the woodlands. This wasn’t the way back to town, I knew that, but I didn’t say anything. I trusted him to get us to safety. Wherever that may be.
I looked down at his side and cringed. His crisp white shirt was saturated with crimson blood stains.
“You’re bleeding out,” I rasped through burgeoning tears.
“It’s just a cut,” he said as he put pressure on the wound in-between shifting gears. He turned off
the main road and began crisscrossing through trees and brushes as we made our way deeper into the forest.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried, shaking my head as I tried to make sense of out what just happened.
“Why? You didn’t do it.”
“But it happened because of me. You were just trying to help me and now you’re hurt. Because of me!” I was practically hysterical and it really wasn’t helping the situation.
“I’m fine, just calm down,” he said, as though it were even remotely a possibility.
“I don’t even know who they were...or what they were.” I flashed back to my bone crushing blow to his knee and cringed. “Were they even human?”
“Yeah, they were human,” he said. “More or less.”
My eyes narrowed. “What kind of answer is that?”
“They’re Runners, Jemma. Bottom-feeders under the control of Revenants. Half the time they’re so doped up they don’t even know their own names.” His face twisted in agony as he glanced down at his wound.
My bottom lip dropped. “So you’re saying they’re humans sent by somebody...by a Revenant? That they’re under their influence?”
“Exactly.”
“But who? Who would do this?”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head and looked at me, worry etched in his eyes. “Have you made any enemies lately?”
I could think of half a dozen people off the top of my head. Nikki and her minions, Dominic, my attacker from All Saints, Engel...my list of enemies was growing bigger by the day.
“It could be anyone,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “God, I’m not safe no matter where I go, am I?”
“We’re Anakim,” he blinked tiredly. “We’re never safe.”
His words thrummed in my ears like a gong. “What do you think they wanted?”
“I thought that was pretty obvious.” He pumped his jaw muscle without looking at me. “They wanted you.”
“For what?”
He shook his head. “It looked like they were trying to bring you somewhere…probably back to the Rev that gave the order,” he said, slowing down to park behind a throng of evergreens.
“Is there any way we can find out who’s behind this?”
“It’s going to be hard.”
Inception (The Marked Book 1) Page 26