“You have no idea what I’d be willing to live through for you, Jemma.” His sapphire eyes flared as something primal flashed through them. “I’ll walk into Hell with you just to be able to stand beside you.”
Sweet baby Reapers.
I fought back tears as my emotions started to overwhelm me. I couldn’t let him destroy himself. I couldn’t allow my want for him—my want for us—to cloud over the storm that was coming for him.
“I know you would, Trace,” I said without the faintest mark of doubt in my heart. “And that’s exactly the problem, because I’m not willing to let you do that.” My words lingered in the air between us, pulling us down like gravity.
I had to find a way stop this thing with Trace and I had to do it before my mind became too consumed with Dominic to care one iota about Trace’s pain and suffering. I needed to find the strength to push him away while I still loved him...before it was too late and I obliterated every last piece of his beautiful heart.
Oh God, the room was closing in on me again, trapping me inside a box I couldn’t exist in.
“I can’t do this, Trace. I don’t want this. This isn’t what I want.” My throat tightened into a noose-like knot as the words rambled out of me.
“Jemma—”
“Take me back to Dominic’s.” I jumped up to my feet and paced the small space between us as I tried to fill my lungs with enough air to breathe properly. This wasn’t going to end well for us—it wasn’t going to end well for him. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.”
He stood up and took a slow, cautious step towards me. “Just take a deep breath, okay? You’re panicking.”
“Hell-yeah I’m panicking,” I said, gasping for morsels of air.
“I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Oh God, oh no. I suddenly felt it in my belly; the words that had been sitting there like a lump of coal were moving upward to the surface, pushing through me as they bumbled out of my mouth without my permission. “I need Dominic! I need him! Take me back to him right now! Please,” I begged.
He flinched as though I slapped him across the face.
I wanted to back-peddle, to take back the words, but nothing came out. I just stared at him, shaking my head as if silently answering a question that no one asked.
“I know you don’t mean that,” he said and took another careful step towards me. His voice a husky whisper in my ears. “It’s just the bloodbond talking. You have to fight it, Jemma. Don’t stop fighting it.”
“I can’t.” My hands were shaking now, trembling as though I were going through withdrawals again. The only thing I wanted to do right then was run back to Dominic and throw myself down at his feet—to beg him to make the ache go away.
Trace closed the remaining gap between us. “Look at me, Jemma,” he said, cupping my cheeks with his strong hands as he pulled up my face. “I swear to God I’m going to find a way to break the bond, but you need to keep fighting it until I do. You can’t give in, do you hear me?”
I shook my head again, trying to wiggle free.
“I love you, Jemma! Stay with me,” he pleaded. “Fight it!”
His words reverberated through my brain as though looking for something to latch on to—as though looking for the remnants of the love I once had for him. It was still there of course, sequestered in some dark corner as an uncontrollable force continued to lay down brick after brick around it.
If only my feelings for him had disappeared when the bloodbond formed. It would be so much easier to give up and walk away from him if I didn’t care about him. But that wasn’t the case. Not by a long shot.
He was still my forever dream and I loved him with the realest, most sacred part of my heart.
“That’s it, just keep breathing,” he whispered softly as my breathing gradually returned to normal.
The room, which had been too small and unforgiving, stopped feeling as though it were closing in on me, and my trembling hands steadied themselves out.
Unfortunately, I was still left with the bitter taste of the words I had spewed out at him.
“I don’t care about that,” he answered, still holding my face.
“I’m so—”
He pressed his finger against my mouth to silence me, his eyes examining and searching with purpose.
When he was certain that I wasn’t going to apologize again, his finger moved from my mouth as his thumb lightly traced the shape of my lips. There was a hunger in his eyes, a look of starvation as he gazed down at my mouth, and it matched my own perfectly. Dipping his head, he brought his mouth to mine and gently caressed my lips with his.
I never thought it was possible for something to feel so right, yet entirely wrong, and at the same exact time. But that’s exactly what I was feeling. Everything inside me was warring against itself.
“Trace…I don’t think we should,” I whispered against his mouth, my hands flattened against his ripped stomach. I still had no idea how strong the bloodbond was going to get and whether or not resisting it would truly prove to be my downfall. And frankly, after the panic attack I just had, I wasn’t interested in testing out that theory tonight.
“Please don’t push me away,” he pleaded, resting his forehead against mine. “I need you right now.” He slinked his arms around my waist and kissed me again. It was a gentle kiss—tender and soft, but it still incited a rush of heat through my body that made my knees feel like jelly.
All the bad fell away from me as his hands slipped under my sweater and then glided up my back, leaving trails of fire where his hands had been. Whatever restraint I had left snapped like a rubber band as I sank deeper into the kiss.
Without taking his mouth off mine, he grabbed my hips and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around him as though I were feather light. Our bodies molded together as he walked us blindly down the hall to his bedroom. My heart was pounding so hard, I feared I was nearing cardiac arrest territory.
“Don’t worry,” he said against my mouth as he kicked the door open behind me. “I’ll bring you back, Jemma. I’ll always be here to bring you back.”
We collapsed onto the bed together, our bodies entwined like lace. Trace repositioned himself between my legs and I hungrily squeezed my thighs against his hips, welcoming him back home. Our desire was palpable, overwhelming, and it scared the crap out of me. My mind sputtered out warnings, heeding me to slow down and think this through beyond tonight, but my body was aching for him in a way I could no longer control.
I knew this was going to wreck me, completely undo me, and I wasn’t even sure I cared anymore.
Trace hesitated, retreating slightly, but I quickly locked my arms around his neck and held him against me. He had a habit of getting into my head and letting my anxieties stop him from taking the next step—from pushing us over the edge, and all I wanted to do tonight was dive into the open air.
His lips moved down to my neck, peppering the sensitive spot below my ear with molten kisses that made my legs shake. I felt his hands near my waist again and I held my breath as he grabbed the hem of my sweater and slowly brought it up. He stopped just below my chest. Always cautious.
Always careful.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice deep and grainy and filled with need.
I didn’t trust myself not to tremble when I spoke, so I didn’t. I nodded my head up and down and then bit my lip as he pulled my sweater up over my head, tossing it behind us on the floor somewhere in the dark.
He gazed down at me for the longest moment of my life and I swore my heart came to a complete stop in my chest before exploding into overdrive.
“You’re so beautiful, Jemma.” His dimples popped as he licked his lips. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
God, the way he was looking at me—I could spend the rest of my life searching and I’d never find another moment where I felt more beautiful and more alive than I did just then.
He lowered his mouth to mine and gentl
y parted my lips with his. Sparks crackled around me, inside of me, shooting off electricity like a nuclear power plant as his tongue slipped inside my mouth again. I arched back, and then into him, hungry for more of him as his mouth and tongue moved on to explore the unchartered parts of my body. He touched me like he wanted to memorize me, to devour me wholly. And God, I wished he would.
He pressed himself against me, letting me feel all of him, and I gasped as he quickly slid back up and covered my mouth with his. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of this before I unraveled into a million pieces.
“Do you want me to slow down?” he asked, breathing heavy against my lips.
“No. Keep going,” I pleaded, panting just as wildly as he was. I didn’t want him to stop—not now and not ever.
“Then I won’t,” he promised as a sexy smile curved his mouth, setting off both dimples at the same time.
And lord knew, I lived and breathed for those dimples. I tried to reach out and touch them, to kiss them, but his lips had other plans.
Sliding away again, his hands caressed my skin as his mouth trailed a row of steamy hot kisses down my bare abdomen, stopping just below my belly button. My breathing hitched as he untied the string to my jogging pants and then looked back up at me as he wet his lips, his fingers touching me experimentally—asking my permission to continue.
I was about to give it to him when his gaze shifted away from me and locked onto something just over my left shoulder. “What the—”
“What?” I turned my face to the side, but I didn’t see anything. “What is it?” I asked growing nervous as I followed his eyes over my shoulder. My entire body froze.
Holy paranormal activity!
Every single piece of furniture in the room was suspended in the air, hovering at least two feet off the ground as though the force of gravity had disappeared from the room. Everything, including the bed we were making out on.
“Oh my God!” I shrieked, covering up my chest as Trace drew back from me.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice a firm whisper.
Slowly, he stepped down from the bed and straightened himself out. With his brows furrowed, he did a slow spin, taking in the strange scene around us.
“What is this? What’s going on?” I asked him, hating the fact that I wasn’t in his arms, now more than ever.
“I’m not sure. Give me your hand,” he said as he reached out to help me get down from the floating bed.
Taking his hand, I slowly lifted myself into a sitting position as I kept my free arm across my chest. The minute I was sitting, all of the furniture in the room dropped to the ground with a thud, scaring the crap out of me. Trace had already yanked me forward into his arms before I could feel the impact of the bed crashing down against the floor.
My eyes bugged out of my head as my heart thumped against my ribcage. “Did that really just happen?”
“I think so,” he said, apparently not trusting his eyes either.
“What was that?”
“I’m not sure.” He was shaking his head, his arm still looped tightly around my waist. “I think…”
“You think what? What is it?”
He looked down at me, his stormy eyes nervously searching my face. “I think it might have been you.”
“Me what?” I blinked up at him, confused.
“I think you…somehow…suspended the furniture.” His brows creased as though he were troubled by his own words. His eyes roamed the room again as though scouring it for evidence. “Everything dropped as soon as you sat up.”
“And what exactly did I suspend it with what, Trace? My magic breast?”
He cracked a smile. “They are pretty magical.”
I smacked him on the chest. “Be serious!”
“I don’t know, Jemma. With your mind, with magic. I’m not sure,” he said and furrowed his brows again.
“I think you’re drunker than I thought.” I said and unlatched myself from his hold. “And I’m not sleeping in here. There’s something wrong with this room.”
“I don’t think it’s the r—”
I held my hand up to silence him. “Not tonight, Trace. Tonight, it’s the room.”
His eyes met mine and softened as understanding set in. “Okay.”
He knew that I knew there was something going on with me, something I unleashed when I’d invoked, but not tonight there wasn’t. Tonight, I was just a normal girl with a beautiful boy and everything was right in the world.
I lifted up on my toes and kissed his soft lips. “Should we continue this in the other room?” I whispered, trying my best to sound seductive, to lure him back into me.
He glanced back at the bed and then the dresser that had been floating about not even two minutes ago and he clenched his jaw. “I think we should call it a night. It’s late and you need to get some rest.”
“But I’m not tired,” I said, lifting on my toes again to entice another kiss from him.
He didn’t take the bait. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.” He kissed the top of my head and then started to turn.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to me. “Do you want me to join you?”
Honestly, I had no idea where that came from or what kind of voodoo had gotten into me.
There was a flicker of heat in his eyes but he quickly shuttered it as his gaze traveled over my head again. “A cold shower,” he clarified and then kissed my forehead before stalking off.
Disappointment settled in my gut.
“One of these days you’re going to have to finish what you started,” I called after him, but he had already closed the door.
23. IMPLOSION
I dreamt of Dominic that night—short blond curls and wayward fangs at every turn of my unconsciousness. What were once nightmares filled with torment had now become something else. Something illicit and inviting. I stirred awake in the bed next to Trace, sweat dotting my forehead as an uncomfortable heat needled through me.
Trace had mentioned that the longer I stayed away from Dominic, the stronger the pull would be. And he was right. Only it wasn’t a pull anymore. It was more. An urge. An unrelenting craving for something my body had grown use to receiving. I needed it—him—and I couldn’t seem to shake it no matter how hard I tried.
I quietly climbed out of the bed and tiptoed out of the guestroom and down the hallway to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, I turned on the water and let it run cold before splashing my face with it and then filling up the glass. My hand tremored as I brought the glass to my lips.
This is so not good.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet since the last time I’d made physical contact with Dominic and already I was starting to lose it. I mean, my mind was still all there—I could reason through it well enough. But inside, my emotions were stirring, twisting into a funnel that was ransacking my body from the inside out.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it together before everything came spilling out.
“What are you doing up?” asked Trace from the hallway. He leaned his shoulder into the entrance wall.
“I couldn’t sleep.” I decided to leave out the part about how I couldn’t stop having illicit dreams about Dominic. He really didn’t need to hear that part.
“Your hand is shaking,” he said, ticking his chin to my trembling hand and then pushing off the wall. He walked up to me and picked up my hand, trying to soothe me.
I didn’t want him reading my thoughts so I quickly pulled my hand back. “It’s nothing, don’t worry.”
“Jemma—”
“Were you serious about finding an antidote for the bond?” I asked him, my voice cracking as I spoke the words I’d been too afraid to think of. “Because if this is another pipedream, I don’t want to waste my time hoping for it.”
“I’m not stopping until I find a way to break it.” He caressed my cheek with the back of his knuckles.
I turned my cheek into his touch.
>
“But you said the bond is permanent…that I sealed it.”
“Yeah, but so is Lucifer’s tomb,” he reminded, his eyes flaring with nefarious ideas. “If that can be busted open than so can this. We just gotta find something or someone powerful enough to break it.”
“Like the Sisters of Roderick.”
“Exactly.”
“And what if that doesn’t work?”
“Then I dust him and the bond dies with him.” He already had this all worked out in his mind from the moment I told him about the bond.
Panic shot up through my body. “You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because, Trace! You can’t kill Dominic. I can’t…let you do that,” I warned him, but he didn’t falter.
“It’s just the bloodbond messing with you head. You’ll get over it,” he said, stroking my cheek again.
“No I won’t!” I knocked his hand away as anger trilled through my veins. “It’s not just the bloodbond. It’s not! Stop saying that! He’s…he’s my friend, Trace. He saved my life. I won’t let you kill him.”
“Jemma—”
“No!” I quickly cut him off not wanting to hear any more of his reasoning. “Besides, how do you know that killing him won’t kill me? We’re bonded, remember? What if the link goes both ways? What if it goes beyond death?”
“You have the Amulet, Jemma. You can’t die.”
“And what if I do? What if the bond’s magic outweighs the Amulet’s magic? Are you’re willing to risk that? Are you willing to risk me?” I shot back, furious at him.
He flexed his jaw muscles. His eyes hardened as though he hadn’t thought about it that way. After a short pause, he said, “Look, I’m not saying I’m going to do anything tonight. We’ll look for the sisters and we’ll try to find another way to do this.”
“And then? What if we don’t find another way?”
“I’m getting you back one way or another, Jemma. You do the math.”
The urge to go to Dominic—to run to him—had become overbearing by morning. My palms were sweaty and my breath was short. It was as though I were losing my ability to function properly without him, and Trace was right there to witness the whole thing, further cementing his need for a backup plan.
Iniquitous: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 3) Page 16
