“Works for me,” said Trace without taking his eyes off me.
“Behave, Trace. Please.”
His beautiful heart-shaped lips hiked up into his dimpled cheeks. “Believe me, this is me behaving.”
Dominic grunted, though it sounded more like a growl.
I stepped back from Trace and turned to Dominic to bestow him with some snarky comment, but my comment and smirk quickly evaporated upon sight of him. While his cuts had nearly healed, he was still wiping blood from his face and his shirt. Something about it disheartened me. Seeing him there, standing all alone as he nursed his own wounds, sent a wave of guilt through my abdomen. I felt horrible for all the trouble I’d caused him. First with Engel, and now with Trace.
That was the thanks he got for saving my life.
It just didn’t seem right at all.
“I’m so sorry.” My words fell flat somehow. They just weren’t enough.
Dominic’s hand stilled as he looked back at me. “You never have to apologize to me, angel. Not ever.”
My stomach bottomed out, pulling me deeper into confusion and turmoil.
A breath of silence stretched between us, long enough to make it awkward for all parties involved.
“Come on,” said Trace, placing his hand on my hip. “It’s late. We need to get you somewhere safe for the night.”
I nodded in agreement but I didn’t take my eyes off Dominic.
Throughout my time in the dungeons, I hadn’t been able to think beyond the point of escaping. I certainly didn’t think about what it was going to feel like to walk away from Dominic when it was all over. It hadn’t even occurred to me to wonder. The truth was, I didn’t think I’d be bothered by it, but in that moment, standing in his den and staring at him clean his wounds, I felt…torn.
He nodded to me reassuringly, as if understanding my dilemma. “It’s alright, angel. Take care of your affairs. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My cheeks warmed. Without thinking twice of it, I left Trace’s side and crossed the room to Dominic. He didn’t move a single muscle as I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. His familiar sent of chocolate and liquor immediately eased me into him.
“Thank you. For everything.” Fearlessly, I held him closer than I ever had before. “You saved my life.”
And you mine, he replied to my mind so that only I could hear.
I pulled back and met his gaze, searching his eyes for meaning, for…something. There was so much complexity staring back at me; so much he wanted me to know, and even more that he didn’t. I couldn’t make sense of it.
“We gotta go,” said Trace, behind me now. He slinked his arm around my waist and drew me back to him.
I went easily, but it took every ounce of willpower I had to ignore the mounting unease in my heart. I couldn’t even look back at Dominic to say goodbye out of fear that I might not be able to leave him.
Face to face, heart to heat, Trace wrapped his arms around me once more, enveloping me in a blanket of his perfect love, and just like that, we were gone.
19. RUNAWAY TRAIN
The frigid cold that came from porting through infinite time and space immediately left my body as we sprung up in the Macarthur cabin up north. The heating had been turned all the way down and the room was cold enough to produce smoke stacks out of my nose, but I didn’t feel it at all. Being this close to Trace always incited the kind of heat in me that could melt an ice block and tonight was no different. With his arms still wrapped around my waist, I looked up at him under my lashes and met his eyes. Beautiful, forlorn eyes filled with worry and pain stared back at me helplessly.
My heart sank to my feet and my throat tightened right the hell up.
The weight I’d been carrying around with me had already been too much for me to bear, but standing there in that moment, witnessing the utter agony I’d inflicted on him was enough to nearly kill me where I stood.
“Why don’t you leave the mind-reading to me, Jemma?”
“Huh?” I looked up and met his playful smile.
“Whatever it is you think you’re reading off my face,” he clarified. “It’s not there, and even if it was, it’s not your problem to worry about.”
Something landed in the pit of my stomach, needling it with unease. “It is my problem, Trace.” And it’s all my fault, I thought, but I didn’t say that part out loud.
His eyes ransacked my face as though it held the answers to the universe. “None of that matters anymore. The only thing that matters to me is that we’re together right now. That you’re alive, and you’re safe, and you’re mine.”
I meant to smile at him, but that icky feeling in my stomach intensified, making me feel queasy. All I could think about was all the horrible things that happened in the dungeon. All the things I had yet to tell him.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against my neck.
The suddenness jolted me back. “So, as much as I’m enjoying this, we should probably get a fire started before we freeze to death, huh?” I meant for it to sound light and joking, but it came out strained and completely unnatural.
Trace didn’t seem to notice. If he had, he wasn’t letting on about it.
“I’m not sure I can let go of you right now.” He pulled back, both dimples pressing in. “Or ever again.”
He tightened his hold on me to drive home the point, but the impending implosion was attacking me from everywhere now, armed with everything from our raw feelings to the untold secrets between us.
I swallowed the pasty spit in my mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him and then took a full step back, purposely breaking out of his hold. “Do you have any spare clothes around here?”
His eyebrows knitted together as he lowered his arms to his sides.
Obviously, the emotional turmoil had followed me from Dominic’s. Not to mention, my anxiety was through the freaking roof again. “I’d really like to get out of this disgusting dress. And maybe take a shower.”
Understanding flared in his eyes. “Yeah. Of course. I think there’s some of my sweats in the bedroom,” he offered, ticking his chin towards the narrow corridor. “Second door on your left.”
“Great. Thanks.” I turned on my heel and bolted from the room. I couldn’t have been more awkward and uncomfortable if I was trying to win a medal for it.
Reaching the bedroom door, I walked in and closed the door behind myself. The solitude and silence immediately assaulted me as I leaned back on the door and pulled in a shallow breath.
Shit! What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I suddenly feeling like this around Trace? All I’d wanted was to see him again and now that I had him, I couldn’t seem to pull it together to save my life. Something felt off with us.
With me…
I couldn’t put my finger on it.
It had to be all the nerves leading up to seeing him again, I decided. They were messing with my head, that’s all. Plus, I had yet to tell him about what happened between Dominic and me, and if I was completely honest with myself, that was a conversation I was hoping to have a week or two after never. And unfortunately, I knew the moment I walked back into that room, I was going to have to produce some answers for him, whether I was ready to re-live the whole thing or not.
I pulled in another jagged breath.
It’s fine though. I could handle this. Seriously, I’ve handled way worse. All I had to do was tell him what happened—like a story. No big deal. Hell, I’ve told plenty of stories in my time, I reminded myself as I lumbered over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. I just needed to breath, that’s all. Just a couple of deep breaths and I’d be ready to go.
Nodding to myself like a crazy person, I shuffled through the neat piles of clothing and wrangling out a sweatshirt and a pair of jogging pants. With my mind on auto-pilot and focused on my breathing, I immediately unzipped the green dress and tossed it into the corner on my way to the connecting bathroom.
I paused in fron
t of the mirror and took a good, hard look at myself. My hair was a hot mess and my face was still bruised, but that wasn’t nearly as off-putting as the thin, silver runes that were running up my arms like the skeletal branches of a dying tree. They looked nothing like the runes that Trace and Ben had on their palms, only further confirming that I wasn’t like them. That I was something else.
The Descendant of Lucifer.
Daughter of Hades.
Bringer of the end of days.
Bile crawled up the back of my throat. I ran to the toilet and dropped hard on my knees. I barely had time to pull my hair back as I spewed the contents of my near-empty stomach into the toilet. Each retch forcing my mind to descend deeper and deeper into that awful place filled with doubt and self-loathing. The place that ran rampant with morbid thoughts of how much better the world would be without me. How much better Trace would be without me.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the noxious thoughts from my brain.
I couldn’t let my fears overpower me. I needed to take control of myself before I spiraled off into something I wouldn’t be able to climb back out of. Straightening out, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and dragged myself to the shower. I turned on the hot water, dropped my undergarments, and then forced myself to step under the steaming water. Everything would be better after the shower. I just had to wash away all the dirt and blood and reminders of what happened, and then everything would go back to normal.
I picked up the soap and started scrubbing. I scrubbed so hard that my skin burned under the running water, but somehow, it made me feel better. Like all the pain I was feeling inside finally had a physical place to go. I let the water run over my raw skin for a little while longer and then I washed and rinsed my hair before turning off the water. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a clean towel from the open cabinet and wrapped it around my body.
See? I told myself. All better.
I forced myself to ignore the runes that were completely visible now that the dirt and blood had been washed away, and I returned to auto-pilot as I dried the rest of my body.
After getting dressed, I found a rubber band in one of the drawers and pulled my hair back it into a tight ponytail. Drawing in one final lungful of air, I flicked off the light and left the bathroom feeling better about myself and whatever would be coming my way.
One step at a time.
One foot in front of the other.
That’s all I had to do to keep going. I grabbed the doorknob and paused as something green caught my attention from the corner of my eye. The emerald dress I’d been wearing.
I walked up to it with the intention of throwing it in the trash can, but the minute my fingers touched the fabric, a million painful memories smashed through the thin wall around my mind and knocked away the fragile grasp I had managed to get on myself earlier. All consciousness and self-control abandoned me as I began pulling and ripping at the fabric, tearing through the dress as though destroying it would erase everything that had happened to me.
It was only when the bedroom door kicked open that I realized I was on the floor sobbing as tattered pieces of the green dress lay scattered around me like confetti.
Trace didn’t say a word. He crossed the room in a second and swooped me off the ground and into his warm arms. I wanted to tell him that I was perfectly fine and that I could walk on my own, but the sobs wouldn’t let up long enough for me to get the words out. I was a total basket-case coming apart at the seams and Trace just landed a front row ticket to the show. Now playing: The Undoing of Jemma Blackburn, featuring the Daughter of Hades herself.
Oh, God. The thought made me sob harder.
He sat us down on the couch, my body cradled on his lap and my face planted firmly against his chest.
“What the hell did he do you to?” he said quietly, his voice as heavy as my heart.
I wanted to pull away and be strong, to put on my big-girl pants and handle it, but I couldn’t seem to find the switch to turn this shit off. The flood gates had opened and right now, not even Lucifer himself could stop me from drowning us in an ocean of my own salty tears.
Seconds turned into minutes and the minutes blended into the wee hours of the night. Trace never moved an inch, nor did he say anything. He just held me in his arms and let me cry until I didn’t have any more tears to cry. Even after the tears had stopped, I remained there with my cheek resting against his chest—unable to face him. I could only imagine what he was thinking, what he was seeing when he looked at me.
I was beyond mortified.
“There’s no reason to be,” he whispered into my hair, his chin resting on the top of my head.
I pulled back a little and looked up at him. His electric-blue eyes glowed like two orbs, even in the dim light of the cabin. They were unearthly and staring down at me so intensely, that it jolted me upright.
He didn’t let me get very far from him though.
“Talk to me, Jemma,” he said, tightening his hold around my waist. “Tell me what happened to you.”
An agonizing stretch of silence passed between us before I finally nodded. Not because I wanted to talk about it, but because I knew I had to.
Time was up.
I owed him the truth and he’d waited long enough—much longer than I would have waited. It was time to lay my cards on the table and let chips go down in flames as they may.
20. BREAKING THE BOY
Nested safely in the comfort of his arms, I readied myself for the hardest story I was ever going to have to tell. I wanted him to know everything so that there wasn’t even a whisper of a secret between us, and so I had to start from the beginning.
“They were there the night of Taylor’s party—Engel and his men,” I began as an icy claw racked its nails down my back. “They were waiting for me just outside the woods. He knew I would be there. He’d made sure of it.”
“I don’t get it. How did he get past the Barrier?” He shook his head, trying to understand how this has gone so terribly wrong when we’d taken so many precautions. “That thing was fool proof.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t double-crossing-witch proof.”
He stared back at me blank-faced.
“Nikki took it down for him, Trace. She set me up.”
His head jerked back. “Nikki? She’s the one who helped us put it up. She wouldn’t—”
“She did,” I cut in, my voice cold and unforgiving. “I saw her do it.”
He swallowed hard as though trying to digest the information.
“She only helped us put it up to make you think she was on our side—to make herself look good in your eyes, knowing I wasn’t going to make it out of that party to tell you any different. She isn’t who you think she is, Trace. I don’t think she ever was.” I let him sit with that for a minute. To really let it sink in, once and for all.
He needed to know the truth about her; about everything.
“She had some kind of deal with Engel, which meant that Barrier was coming down one way or the other.” I laughed darkly, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “If I hadn’t followed her into the woods, who knows what would’ve happened. She probably would’ve let them all into the party. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her.”
He cursed under his breath, his eyes hooded under dark lashes. “We were all just sitting ducks.” His eyes glazed over as though envisioning this alternate version. “I knew she hated you, but I never thought she’d do anything like this.”
That made two of us. “Trust me, she’s not going to get another chance.”
His eyes locked onto mine and he tipped his head knowingly. We didn’t need to say anymore. It was understood. Nikki was going to get her comeuppance.
“So what happened after that? Do you go with him willingly?” he asked, probably assuming as much since the Revenants never ended up crashing the party.
“No,” I shook my head. “Unfortunately, Nikki and Engel weren’t the only ones out for my blood that night.” I wen
t on to tell him about the masked lunatic that attacked me from behind while me and Nikki were arguing. “She watched him cut my throat open and she just stood there and did nothing. Even when I begged her to help me,” I added, my tone surprisingly even given the topic.
His eyebrows drew together as his fingers grazed my neck. He was looking for a wound, but he wasn’t going to find one. That scar had already disappeared into my skin long ago, leaving no trace of its existence except for in my haunted memories.
“She wasn’t in on that part though,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as my insides trembled under his touch. “At least I don’t think so. He came from inside the party, before the Barrier came down. Before Engel showed up.”
His eyes were pinned on my neck, his fingers entirely preoccupied with the soft skin below my ear.
“I never saw his face,” I went on. “But I’m pretty sure the Order sent him.”
His hand stilled as he met my eyes again. “I knew it,” he said tersely, shaking his head in disgust. “I knew they had something to do with it.”
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for the Amulet.” I picked up the enchanted red stone and rolled it between my fingers. “Thank God they didn’t know about it.”
His features fell as realization set in. “Then they know about your blood.”
“It looks that way,” I nodded regretfully.
A colorful array of expletives shot out of his mouth.
“Come on,” I said, pressing my palm against his chest to calm him. “We knew they’d find out the truth eventually. It just happened a little sooner than we thought.” I wasn’t sure where my sudden composure came from, but it felt good to finally have some. Probably because the whole ordeal with the Order didn’t scare me nearly as much as having to tell him the rest of the story did. I hadn’t even gotten to the bad part yet…
“Then tell me,” he said as he picked up my chin and nodded for me to continue. “I can handle it.”
I went on to tell him everything that happened after the moment Nikki handed my lifeless body to Engel. I told him that I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, or where they’d taken me, but when I finally did…come back, I’d woken up alone in some kind of dungeon-like prison cell. I told him about the horrid conditions down there, about how no one came down to see me for days… “I thought I would starve to death before I ever got to see another living soul.”
Iniquitous: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 3) Page 13
