Incipient: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 6)

by Bianca Scardoni

  “What?” he asked, looking innocently at Trace. “I’m just letting her know she has options.”

  Ben laughed. “Dude. You have no chance. We all know she’s going to ask Trace.”

  My cheeks all but burst into flames. Why was this conversation even happening to me right now? I seriously should have stayed home today.

  “You guys are such plebs. You’re embarrassing the hell out of her,” said Morgan, shooting warning glances all around the table. “She’ll ask whoever she wants to ask when she’s good and ready to ask.”

  Woah. Did Morgan just defend me? Shrinking further into my chair, I gave her a thankful look and avoided making eye contact with everyone else. Seriously, though. Who knew Morgan could be decent?

  “Fine. Sorry, Jem,” said Ben looking genuinely apologetic. “So, what about you Carly. Who you taking to the dance?” he asked, drawing everyone’s attention away from me.

  “I haven’t asked anyone yet.”

  “Well, you can always ask yours truly,” he said as he popped the collar of his dress shirt. “I’m still available.”

  “What a shocker,” she said and rolled her caramel eyes at him.

  Everyone laughed except for Trace. I turned my head in his direction and watched as he picked at his food, his mind a million miles away. He was unusually quiet and looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  I couldn’t help but feel responsible for putting that weight there. No matter what I did or how good my intentions were, he always seemed to get the short end of the stick and it really wasn’t fair.

  Unable to let things continue to deteriorate between us, I decided we needed to clear the air. Right then.

  “Can we talk?” I whispered so that the others couldn’t hear in case he told me to take a hike.

  He looked up and met my eyes. “Like right now?”

  “Right now.”

  And with that, we both stood up and excused ourselves from the table.

  26. STRAIGHT, NO CHASER

  With my heart trapped somewhere between my chest and my throat, I followed Trace out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the art room where we knew we’d have privacy to talk openly. I wasn’t yet sure what I was going to say to him or even if there was anything I could say that would make things better, but I knew I had to try. I couldn’t let things between us slip through the cracks again because of stupid misunderstandings.

  I was already keeping enough from him—though mostly by no choice of my own—and I really didn’t need to add anything unnecessary to that already heavy list.

  Once inside the art room, Trace shut the door behind himself and then leaned his back against it. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, his steely mask firmly in place.

  Squaring my shoulders, I tried not to let his detached countenance defer me. “Look, I know you’re mad at me because you think I’m lying to you, but—”

  “You did lie,” he cut in, his eyes as heavy as my heart felt.

  “O-kay,” I said slowly as I walked back to one of the art tables and then hopped up on it, ready to come clean. “I did lie. But it’s not what you think.”

  “And what is it that I think?” he asked, his probing blue eyes dusting over me in a quick sweep, sizing me up.

  “You think I went to see Dominic.”

  “Didn’t you?” he asked, his veiled expression giving nothing away.

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Then what happened to your neck, Jemma?” he asked patronizingly, as though he knew I was feeding him a bullshit story yet again, except that, for once, I wasn’t.

  “If I tell you, you have to promise me you’re not going to freak out and do something stupid.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Define stupid.”

  “Like getting all cave-man about it.”

  His eyebrows shot up at that.

  “I don’t need your protection and I don’t need you to handle anything for me. You have to promise that you’ll trust me to take care of this the way I see fit.”

  Tension creased his brows. “What is this about, Jemma?” he asked as he pushed off the door and crossed the room toward me. “Tell me what happened.”

  “First promise me,” I demanded, needing his word.

  He exhaled sharply as though I were putting him in an uncomfortable position. Which I sort of was, but I needed to have his word on it. I couldn’t risk Gabriel getting hurt. Not when he was already in such a bad state because of me. “Fine. I promise. What happened to your neck?” he repeated, sharper this time.

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “Gabriel lost control this morning—”

  “Gabriel?” He looked confused for a moment, and then came the anger. “Gabriel did this to you?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as his gaze flicked down to my neck and then back up again.

  “I should have never given him my blood. He wasn’t used to it. He’s only ever had animal blood—never human—and I gave him a cup of Slayer blood.” An actual cup, no less. Not a chalice or something exotic. An actual cup from Ben’s mother’s teacup collection. I ran a hand down my face, trying to wipe away the stupidity of it all. “It’s not his fault, Trace. It’s mine. This whole thing is my fault, but I’m going to fix it.”

  Trace wasn’t saying anything, just staring at me with that unreadable, frosty look on his face.

  “I’m sorry that I lied to you before, but he’s my Handler and my friend and I didn’t want anyone to know.” I studied him for a moment, hoping I could somehow lift his thoughts from his eyes, but as usual, he gave nothing away. “Can you please say something?”

  Breathing out, he closed the remaining gap between us and moved in front of me. His hand lifted to my neck and I flinched away, unsure of what he was going to do with it.

  “I just want to check the wound,” he said, his eyes softer now. “Make sure it’s cleaned properly and healing.”

  I stared at him for a moment, still hesitant to let him see the extent of the damage, and then finally nodded. I watched quietly as he brought his hand back to my bandaged neck and gently lifted the covering. His jaw hardened into steel as he ducked his head down and examined the gaping gash. I didn’t need a mirror to know what he was seeing. I’d seen the damage earlier when I’d cleaned myself off and rebandaged the wound.

  Where Dominic would have left two puncture holes, Gabriel had nearly torn a hole right through my neck; a very clear indication of his inability to feed without killing. Had it not been for my Amulet, I would not have survived his attack, of that I was sure.

  “What are you going to do about him?” he asked as he recovered my injury and then met my eyes expectantly.

  “I’m going to help him.”

  He didn’t look impressed. “And how do you plan on doing that now that he’s in full bloodlust?”

  That was the million-dollar question. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought that far out yet. “I’m not sure, but I’m open to any suggestions,” I asked nicely, batting my eyelashes to help break the tension.

  His gaze drifted over my shoulder and caught the scant afternoon sunlight. “The way I see it, you have two options,” he said, his eyes returning to mine. “You can put him on a blood fast and then slowly reintegrate animal blood into his system. He’s not going to like it and you’ll probably have to force it on him, but it could work.”

  “That sounds good. Let’s do that one.”

  “Except that you’ll always have the worry that he could fall off the wagon again and maybe next time, he ends up killing someone.”

  My shoulders slumped at his words. “What’s the other option?”

  He blew out a heavy breath, letting me know he didn’t like what he was about to suggest. “You teach him how to feed properly—build up his tolerance and control so that he learns how to handle human blood without going off the walls every time he comes into contact with someone. It’s not ideal, but it might be better for him long term.”

 
; “Long term?” I asked, not following.

  His eyes darkened. “The only thing more dangerous than a Revenant is a Revenant that doesn’t know how to feed.”

  Right. Yikes. A chill spread over me as I thought about it. While neither option sounded like a great time—for me or for Gabriel—I knew I had to do something, and leaving him in this state was not an option.

  The fact of the matter was, if he couldn’t control his bloodlust then he was a risk to everyone around him and that was a surefire way to get the Council involved. After all, Turned Descendants were only permitted to exist contingent on their ability to control themselves, unlike Turned humans who lacked the ability altogether and only became more rabid and animalistic as time went on.

  The more I thought about it, the more obvious my choice became.

  “I can’t risk this happening again,” I said, knowing the risks and dangers full well. “If the Council even suspects he’s a danger, they’ll vanquish him without a second thought. I have to teach him to control his bloodlust.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” he said somberly. “Would you at least do me a favor?”

  “Of course.” It was the least I could do after everything he’d done for me. “Anything.”

  “Can you promise me you’re not going to attempt these teaching sessions by yourself?” He put up his hand to stop me before I could protest. “It doesn’t have to be me, but I hope it will be. I just want to make sure you have someone watching your back in case things go sideways.”

  I thought about it for a moment and then nodded. He just wanted me to be safe and play it smart, and really, I wanted the same thing. “I promise I won’t attempt any kind of rehabilitation measures on my own.” I flashed him a big smile and he responded with his own pearly-white, dimpled grin that melted my heart into soup at the sight of it.

  “So, does this mean you forgive me for lying?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah, I forgive you,” he said, closing the gap between us. “But I do have one more favor to ask you.”

  My knees naturally parted to welcome him into my space.

  “I have to warn you, though. This is very serious.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, my heart picking up its pace. “Let’s hear it.”

  Flattening his palms against the desk on either side of me, he lowered his head, his jaw brushing against my cheek in the most delicious of ways. “Don’t ask Caleb to the dance.”

  Grinning, I bit down on my lip as my body hummed from his proximity. “And why is that?” I asked, though I had no intention of doing any such thing.

  He turned his head slightly, his breath warming the space around my ear as he breathed in the scent of my hair. “Because I think I might die of a jealousy.”

  Inwardly swooning, I turned to look at him, accidently bringing out lips within a feather’s touch of each other. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t want that.”

  “Nor would I.”

  “I don’t suppose you have someone better in mind?”

  “Actually, I do.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and my heart ping-ponged in my chest.

  “Do you think he’s available this close to the dance? I mean, it’s kind of last minute.”

  His gaze returned to mine as he flashed a perfect, dimpled grin. “I’m sure he could make himself available for you.”

  “Trace?” Aching to feel the warmth of his skin against my own, I reached up and touched my hand to his cheek, tracing his dimple with my finger as a gentle charge hummed between us.

  He responded with a deep rumble at the back of his throat as his eyes slipped shut.

  “Would you like to be my date to the dance?”

  A playful smile curled his lips as he said, “I’m actually busy that night, but thanks for asking.”

  “Very funny.” I swatted him against the chest, and he quickly caught my hand and held it there.

  “I’d be your date for the end of the world, Jemma,” he said as he cupped the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his. A delicious growl sounded in his chest as I parted my lips and tasted his tongue.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drew him closer to me, circling my legs around the back of his as I mashed his body to mine.

  My skin sizzled with electricity as he slid his hand under the hem of my skirt, stroking my leg and then gripping my hip with his fingers. It was all I could do not to moan into his mouth.

  Heat and need pooled low in my belly and I clutched onto him harder, wishing the classroom and the school and the entire world would just disappear around us.

  “Just say the word,” he murmured, speaking against my lips as my body reached a fever pitch.

  My mind was racing, my body starving for more—for more of him, for more of this, and for more of us. I couldn’t think straight anymore. Not when he was kissing me the way he was or touching me like I was the last living thing on earth. The only thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t want this to stop…

  “Word,” I whispered, my body humming with so much energy, I thought I might burst at the seams.

  He fisted his hand into my hair and tipped my head back, deepening the kiss as a cold breeze swept around us. Within seconds, the classroom melted away as the artic chill intensified, and then we were gone, whisked away through time and space before materializing back in his bedroom, my back pressed firmly against his mattress and his body covering mine like my favorite blanket.

  Somewhere in the deepest trenches of my mind, a little voice was calling for me to heed the road ahead of me, to take caution against the fallout that would inevitably come. But I was sick and tired of listening to that voice, and so I pushed the whiney bitch so far into my subconscious that she’d need a rescue team just to find her way out again.

  And then I let myself go.

  27. THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

  A gentle rain rapped against the windows as I reached up and wrapped my arms around Trace’s neck. He was nestled between my legs, his chest perched against my own, his lips on mine with my legs still tangled around the back of his, and yet we were still so far from where I wanted to be.

  No matter how many times we had made our way up this mountain, we had always stopped just before we reached the peak, but this time, come hell or high water, I was determined to fly.

  Sliding my hands between us, I unbuttoned my white blouse as he continued to kiss me, each touch of his lips more tender and softer than the last. He’d slowed the pace down considerably, as though he wanted to savor every second of this moment, make it last, but it only made my heart race faster and my need for him deepen.

  Without breaking off the kiss, he moved his hand from my hair to my breast, running his fingers over the satin fabric of my bra and then down the middle of my abdomen, his feather soft touch sending a wave of tantalizing goosebumps all over my body. I whimpered against his mouth as he gingerly continued further down, stopping only when he reached the hem of my pleaded skirt. With the least amount of effort, he pulled the button loose causing my wraparound skirt to slide off my hips and fall to the bed on either side of me.

  A deep, feral need gathered in the pit of my belly as he teasingly brushed his fingertips against my underwear like a promise of what was to come, and then pulled away from me.

  Biting down the urge to cry out in protest, I watched as he sat back on his legs and looked down at me. His eyes ravishing my body like it was the road to his salvation. Wetting his lips, he loosened his tie and then slowly unbuttoned his own shirt before tossing both garments to the floor beside us. Swells of heat coasted over my skin as I took in the towering Adonis before me. Every muscle had been worked tediously and carved to absolute perfection. Every flawless edge more defined and sharper than the last.

  Pushing up on my elbows, I clumsily shucked off my blouse and blazer and then whipped them somewhere across the room. He smiled, his pristine blue eyes almost glowing against his black slicked back hair and olive skin.

  My body felt feverish just lookin
g at him.

  With the worst case of grabby hands ever, I reached forward and clutched the top of his pants, using them to pull him back down to me. His lips found mine easily, our tongues once again entwined as he rested his weight against my body.

  Seconds turned to minutes and then I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by or how long we’d been kissing. My lips felt swollen against his and my body was pulsating for more. More of him. More of this. More of everything.

  “Take them off,” I hissed as I tugged at the waist band of his pants, my voice filled with so much raw need that I barely recognized it as my own.

  He pulled back just enough to look me in my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  I didn’t hesitate when I answered, “I’m sure.” I was so beyond sure, I needed a new word for it.

  His eyes dropped to my mouth as he slowly wet his bottom lip and then reached over to the nightstand. Without venturing to far, he pushed the play button on his iPod deck and then slid the top drawer open. Low tempo music filled the room as he fumbled in the drawer and then pulled out something that sounded like a candy wrapper.

  Uh, that can’t be right. This was hardly the time for candy. Or was it…?

  Curious, I rolled my head to the side to get a better look and noticed he had taken out a condom, and suddenly my heartbeat was firing off in my ears. Even though I wasn’t a virgin anymore, Dominic and I had never used condoms for the simple fact that Revenants couldn’t reproduce, nor did they get sick or transmit human infections.

  It always felt very consequent-free with him, almost as though we were just practicing and not actually playing for keeps. This, though, this felt like the real deal.

  “We can stop if you want to,” said Trace, obviously having heard my inner plight.

  We could, and I knew that. Trace would understand and he’d be the gentleman he always was if I asked him to slow it down and keep it at second base, or even to stop completely and go back to school like nothing happened at all.

  I knew that, but…

  “I don’t…want to stop,” I whispered, my cheeks blushing as I looked up and met his eyes.