Invidious

by Bianca Scardoni

  “To talk to him about returning to the Order.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked, stunned to hear that he was even considering returning to the Order, let alone that he actively sought it out after everything he’d said about them. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with them?”

  “I don’t. Not really,” he said with hooded lids.

  “Then what's going on? Why are you doing this?”

  “Why do you think?” he answered gruffly as he tightened his hold on me. “After what happened with Engel? I need to protect you, Jemma. I thought I could do it without the Order, without all their politics and bullshit, but I need their resources.”

  “You don't have to do this. We can find another way.” It was bad enough I was dragging him into this, but making him feel like he had to return to the Order after everything that happened with Linley was more than I was willing to put him through.

  “It's not about that anymore.” He tucked a wavy strand of my hair behind my ear and dropped his voice to a baritone whisper. “I have to do this for you, Jemma. Now more than ever. We need to find out what the Council knows and what they're planning.”

  “But you’re playing right into them, Trace. This is exactly what they wanted to happen,” I reminded him, but he didn’t seem to care about that anymore.

  “It’s different this time,” he assured me. “I’m going in with my eyes wide open. They’re not going to control anything because I’m not doing it for them. I’m doing it for us.”

  He leaned in to kiss me again, to wash the bad away, but I put my hand against his chest and stopped him.

  “Trace, I can't let you—”

  “You're not changing my mind about this, Jemma,” he said adamantly, making it clear I wasn't going to win this battle.

  Trace was going to willingly throw himself down the same rabbit hole that I’d been free-falling through for the last few months, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  There was no telling what kind of secrets and smokescreens he would encounter along the way or how many of them could potentially tear us apart...for good.

  I shook my head, crestfallen. “If you're going to do this, I need you to promise me something.”

  His blue eyes met mine in the dark, piercing me with their willingness to give me anything I could ever ask for.

  “Promise me that whatever you find out, no matter how bad or scary it is, you won’t keep the truth from me. You won’t keep me in the dark. Promise me we'll always fight them together.”

  He watched me for a moment, his jaw muscle pumping as he held me tightly in his arms and considered the weight of my request. “I promise,” he finally said and then leaned in to me again, eager to seal the deal with lips that were clearly made to move against mine.

  The world slipped away from me again, fast and hard, and even though it was only a temporary reprieve from the storm that was churning over my life, it was heaven like this with Trace and I never wanted to fall from its grace.

  39. AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER

  Saturday came draped in an ethereal fog that spread over the town like a gathering of lost souls. There was something in the air, something sinister hissing in the wind, whispering as though it knew the town's secrets and sought to make them known to me.

  I hugged my arms for warmth and pushed the uneasiness away. I couldn't let it sidetrack me. This was Taylor's special day and I was determined to make sure it was perfect in every way.

  We pulled up to the Valentines’ residence that sat on a sprawling acreage not far from Weston Academy, bordering the very same woodlands that our school grounds did. It was a beautiful, Queen Anne-style mansion fit for a real-life princess, right down to the matching turret that overlooked the yard.

  Even though Taylor no longer remembered anything about me or our friendship, I was still beyond happy to be able to attend her party and welcome her back home with the rest of her friends and family. And, it didn't really even matter that it had to be from a distance as Trace’s unnamed plus one.

  A seven-piece orchestra was playing as we walked into the glitzy backyard. The Valentines had clearly spared no expense for their daughter’s welcome home party. It was exactly the kind of bedazzled extravaganza Taylor went apeshit for.

  Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed above the dance floor like a blanket of stars suspended in the air. Lanterns and small spot lights lit up the gardens throughout the yard, making it look like a scene out of a modern day fairy tale. A fairy tale that Taylor deserved every moment of. There was even a full wait staff on hand, dressed in white tuxedo jackets and black pants, and carrying trays filled with tiny appetizers and fancy Hors d'oeuvres I couldn’t pronounce.

  Looping my arm through Trace’s, I scanned the yard in search of familiar faces and the guest of honor. I found the latter planted at the crown of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of attentive admirers, most of which were of the male variety. She looked like an angel in her flowing white dress and loose locks of blond hair. I wanted so bad to run up to her and throw my arms around her, to tell her how happy I was to have her home and how much I missed having her around, but I knew I couldn't do that. I had to keep my distance and stay out of her normal, human life.

  More importantly, I had to keep her out of my abnormal one.

  “You look amazing,” said Trace, taking in the black, mermaid dress that clung to my body like a second skin. He ran his hand down the length of my back, sending waves of electricity shooting every which way. “That dress is...something else on you.”

  I smiled up at him. “It's not too much?”

  I had less than fifteen minutes to shop after my shift at All Saints earlier today and ended up grabbing the first black, formal-looking dress I could find on the rack at some small boutique on Main Street.

  I'd never been to parties like this before and was always doubting my fashion sense when it came to my wardrobe, especially since I didn't have Taylor to set me straight anymore.

  “Too much?” He circled his arms around my waist and pressed me into his thick, muscular frame. “Maybe.”

  “You're supposed to lie and say I look fine!” I said indignantly.

  “Fine doesn't even begin to describe how you look, Jemma.” He craned his head towards my ear and breathed me in. “You're dangerous in that dress.”

  I arched a brow at him as I sprouted a smile. “Dangerous, huh?”

  “It's taking everything I have not to rip that dress off of you right now,” he whispered huskily, brushing his lips below my ear. “The only thing stopping me is the thought of anyone else getting to see what's under there.”

  My eyes widened at his confession. “Trace!”

  “I guess I can always just lie and say you look fine,” he continued nonchalantly, “pretend I’m not dying to finish what we started the other night.”

  Steamy flashes of our last bedroom session took over my subconscious, heating my cheeks and body simultaneously.

  “We really should fix that,” I agreed.

  “I plan on it,” he said, pulling back. His eyes were filled with love and lust and smoldering fire.

  It was impossible not to get swept up in the inferno. “When?” I whispered, anticipation swirling deep in my belly.

  “Tonight. After Taylor's party.”

  This was news to me. Good news, obviously. I suddenly had the urge to cut the night short and head home.

  “Don't tempt me,” he warned, pushing my hair over my shoulder and then dropping a kiss at the base of my neck, near my exposed collarbone.

  I shivered from the contact as a feverish heat skirted over my skin. Hot and cold; I wasn't even sure how that was possible, but I wasn't surprised with Trace. He had a way of inducing feelings in me that I’d never felt before. Just the thought of giving myself to him fully made my entire body ignite.

  “Thank you for tonight by the way,” I said, running my hands along the lapel of his black tuxedo jacket. “For the Barrier and everyth
ing else you did so that I could be here.”

  After everything that happened yesterday, I’d realized that it would be too dangerous for me to attend Taylor's party. I could have unwittingly led the Dark Legion and a whole lot of other trouble right to her doorstep. When Trace had seen how heartbroken I was over not being able to go, he came up with the idea of asking Caleb to put up a magical fence around Taylor's entire property, ensuring that Taylor and her guests would be safe and that anything unclean, undead, or otherwise Dark Legion related, would be blocked out.

  The fact that he didn't think twice about putting his beef with Caleb aside for the sake of making this possible for me only made my feelings for him stronger.

  “Maybe Caleb can keep the Barrier up for a while,” I suggested. “Make sure nothing can get to her.”

  “How long do you want him to keep it up?”

  “I don't know, as long as possible.”

  “That can be arranged,” he said and then looked at me as though trying to figure something out.

  “I’m not always going to be around to look after her,” I explained, glancing across the yard at her and then back at him. “Promise me you'll do it when I can't.”

  “Don't talk like that,” he said, his eyes darkening at my words. “You're not going anywhere. I won't allow it—”

  “Everything's secure on my end,” interrupted Caleb, walking up to us with a champagne glass in his hand and a lopsided grin on his lips. “Nothing's getting through that firewall,” he added cockily and then threw back a sip of his drink.

  “Mostly thanks to me,” said Nikki as she stepped out from behind Caleb and joined our private little party.

  “Thanks, man.” Trace put his fist out, and Caleb bumped it. And, just like that, they were friends again.

  “What about me?” asked Nikki, her eyes plastered on Trace like a love-sick puppy begging for attention.

  “Thank you too,” he said, tipping his head to her.

  “Anything for a friend. Taylor means so much to all of us,” she said, sounding like the phony bitch that she was.

  “Since when do you give a crap about Taylor?”

  “Since always, Jemma.” She shook her head at me and then clicked her tongue. “You'd know that if you actually took a minute to get to know me.”

  “I've already taken several minutes, Nikki, and I didn't like what I saw. But thanks.”

  “I'm sorry you feel that way.”

  “I'm sure you are,” I scoffed and then turned to Trace. “You're not buying this, are you?” She was really pulling out all the stops tonight, undoubtedly for his benefit.

  He frowned.

  “There's nothing to buy. Everyone knows that there's nothing I wouldn't do for someone I cared about,” she went on, her words stained with dark undertones that sounded a lot like a warning.

  “I'll make sure to remember that.”

  “You really should, Jemma.” There was a smile on her lips, but her eyes...her eyes glowered at me with venom.

  “Hey, Pratt,” said Caleb, nodding over to Ben, who was making his way up to us.

  “What's up, gentlemen. Ladies,” he greeted everyone jovially. He'd been in an infinitely better mood since the night we brought Taylor back home. Clearly, it wasn't a coincidence.

  “Did you run the perimeter?” asked Trace.

  “Yup. Everything's clear.”

  “Told you,” said Caleb smugly. “Nothing's getting through that thing. That's some of my best work right there.”

  “I thought your dad was out of town?” said Ben to Trace suddenly, gesturing over to the sprawling white tent that housed dozens of white tables and matching bistro chairs.

  We all turned at the same time.

  I quickly spotted Peter Macarthur standing by the bar, having a drink with some other guy.

  “Isn't that your uncle, Jem?” asked Ben, ticking his chin at the whispering duo.

  I looked a little closer at the man standing beside Trace's dad and immediately noticed the patch of white hair along his ears. “I think so,” I answered and then looked at Trace for confirmation.

  He responded with a slight nod.

  What the heck was my uncle even doing here? I mean, okay, so tons of other parents and Hollow residents were here tonight, celebrating Taylor's return, but still. Something wasn't sitting well about it. Plus, why didn't he mention it to me? Then again, I had (sort of) been evading him lately...but still!

  Trace leaned in closer. “I'm sure it's nothing,” he whispered reassuringly, making sure the others didn't overhear.

  None of our friends knew anything about my bloodlines or the fact that the Dark Legion was hunting me down, and I wanted to keep it that way. The fewer people that knew about the secret that could potentially end my life, the better. Especially people like Nikki, who would undoubtedly hand-deliver me to the Dark Legion herself.

  I pushed away all my ailing thoughts and smiled back up at Trace, fully intent on enjoying the rest of my night with him, and whatever else may follow. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

  “Trace, can I talk to you for a minute?” asked Nikki, purposely interrupting our moment.

  My eyes glazed over with hate—hatred for her and her conniving underhanded ways. Hatred for the way Trace's name sounded when it passed between her scowling lips.

  “It's important,” she quickly added.

  I hated that she was even here with us, and that she was going to be here with him long after I was gone.

  “Jemma?” Trace looked down at me to get my okay.

  Mostly though, I hated that she was probably going to live the life I'd always dreamed of having with him—the life I was supposed to have with him. Chances were, Trace and I weren't ever going to get our happily ever after, and letting Nikki know that she was getting to me would only make her step up her efforts.

  “Come find me when you're done,” I told him and lifted onto my toes to pull a quick kiss from his lips.

  Without looking back, I walked off towards the dance floor, taking in all the smiling faces as I listened to the haunting classical piece being played by the orchestra. Everyone was having a good time, it seemed, and none more so than Taylor. She had the most contagious, beautiful smile plastered across her pink-glossed lips, and it made my heart cheer knowing that I helped put it there.

  My eyes continued to circle the grounds, noting all the guests and their chosen company, until they settled on my uncle and Trace's dad, who had now moved to a table near the back of the tent. Keeping my distance, I watched their interactions, looking for clues as to the subject of their hushed conversation. Stopping at the bar, I asked the bartender for a soda while continuing my recon as inconspicuously as possible.

  Uncle Karl appeared to be heated. Leaning forward, his eyebrows were rutted together and his forehead was creased. I noted his hands jerking back and forth as though he were angrily trying to get his point across. Whatever it was they were discussing, it didn't appear to be pleasant.

  I picked up my drink and casually strolled in their direction, hoping I might get close enough to eavesdrop on them.

  “Hi.”

  Shit. I turned slowly at the sound of Taylor's bubbly voice as I tried to prepare myself to face her. I was completely caught off guard and had no idea what to say to her. “Uh...Hi.”

  Wow, genius, Jemma.

  “I know we haven't like, formally met at school or anything, but I just wanted to thank you for coming to my party.” Her smile was big and warm, letting me know she was being nothing but genuine. “You and Trace are totally cute-sauce together.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling back at her without even meaning to. “And thank you for, you know, having me.”

  “For sure.” She tilted her head to the side and stared back at me with a strange look in her eyes.

  “What?” I said, fighting off the urge to check my teeth on the back of the silverware. “Do I have something on my face?”

&nb
sp; “No, no. You look great, it's just...” She continued staring. “You just seem really familiar. Have we met before? Like out of school or something?”

  “Um, nope. I don't think so.”

  “Weird,” she said, sort of to herself. “I feel like I...I don't know.” She shook her head and laughed at herself. “I think I just had a little too much champagne tonight. That open bar just wouldn't stop calling me.”

  I couldn't help but laugh. God, did I miss her.

  “So, yeah. I just wanted to say hi and all that...hopefully I didn't completely weird you out,” she laughed again but there was definitely a nervous pitch to it this time. “I'm not usually this awkward. I swear it.”

  “Not awkward at all,” I assured her. “It was really nice to talk to you, Tay. Ler,” I quickly added, catching my mistake.

  “Yeah, you too,” she said, laughing—probably at the strange stutter she now thinks I have. “See you around, Jemma.” She waved me off as she spun on her heels and headed back towards the dance floor and her waiting band of admirers.

  I stood there for a few seconds too long, watching her go with my hand still hanging in the air like I was some kind of human stop sign. Snapping out of my daze, my eyes quickly darted back to the tent.

  The table was empty.

  “Shit.”

  “Language, Jemma.” My uncle walked up beside me, holding a cigar between his index and middle finger. “It's a lovely night for people watching, is it not?”

  I looked over at him as he stared into the tent. Was he referring to the fact that I was trying to spy on him earlier? Had they seen me? “Yeah, sure. I guess so.”

  “You'd be amazed at the things one can learn by watching.”

  I felt a strange chill run down my back, making the hairs on my arms tremble. “I'll have to try that sometime.”

  He looked down at me for a moment and then pulled in a puff of his cigar. A cloud of smoke billowed out of his mouth and floated up to greet the night's sky. “The Council would like to meet with you tomorrow. Perhaps you can stop by my office before work, and we can go together.”

  “Meet with me?” The hairs were now standing straight up. “About what?”