Inception (The Marked Book 1)

by Bianca Scardoni

  I held onto his gaze as I walked back over to him, and without thinking twice of it, draped my arms around his neck, pinning him inside a hug. I felt him stiffen beneath my embrace as though I’d just crossed over some invisible line. A line that was meant to keep us safely apart. But I didn’t care. I had no intention of staying on my side anymore.

  “Thank you,” I whispered into his neck, my voice working hard not to crack. “You saved my life.”

  He seemed to hesitate at first, unsure of the connection, though after a few short beats, I felt his hand rise up along my side and gently glide across the small of my back until his arm was wrapped snugly around my waist. And he held me there against him, for a while, my skin humming under the warmth of his soothing touch.

  After cleaning most of the dirt off myself, I swapped my ripped employee shirt for one of the clean spares in the office and returned to the main hall where Trace was waiting to take me home. On any other night, I would have vehemently refused his offer, especially with Nikki standing close enough to witness the gross-infraction, but tonight I didn’t give a damn about it. Tonight, I didn’t give a damn about her. I feared them more than I did her and nothing was going to make me step foot outside this building by myself.

  I sauntered towards Trace who was at the bar going over something with Zane when I caught sight of Dominic walking in at the front. All of the light seemed to rush over to him as though it ached to be beside him as much as I did, and before I knew it, my still-shaky legs were detouring straight for him.

  “Jemma.” He said my name with all the right inflection as he took my hand into his and gently kissed the back of it.

  My heart involuntarily thrummed twice its pace as a result of his lips making contact with my skin. For that small moment, I forgot everything else, and I liked him more because of it.

  “H-Hey, hi,” I said gracelessly.

  A slow moving smile appeared. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

  “You were?” The words fell out of my mouth without any forethought. The kind of forethought that would tell you to stay calm and play it cool, like hot older guys were always hoping to run into you.

  “Yes, I was,” he smirked. “I was hoping I might take you out later. After work.”

  My insides lit up at the thought of it; at the very notion that he wanted to see me—was hoping for it even.

  And then I snapped back to reality.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. He must have remarked the change in my expression.

  “I finished early. There was...an incident.”

  “Oh?” His dark eyes tapered. “What sort of incident?”

  He reached out and moved a strand of hair away from my eyes. Such a simple gesture, yet it completely derailed my focus.

  “I, um, I sort of had a run-in with this creep out back, a little while ago. Some deranged guy.” TMI, dammit.

  When I saw his eyes flare open, I quickly added, “I’m totally fine though, just a little shaken up.”

  “Are you hurt?” he asked and then grazed his hand over the side of my neck as though he were looking for a wound—a seriously specific wound.

  My eyes thinned as I shook my head, “I’m fine.”

  “Come on then, I’ll take you home.”

  “I already have a ride,” I said, still searching his face for clues about what exactly he might know, if anything.

  “I insist,” he said, surrendering nothing.

  Trace appeared beside me. “You ready to go?” He didn’t bother acknowledging Dominic’s presence.

  “I’ll be taking Jemma home tonight,” said Dominic as he reached out and took my hand, gently pulling me closer to him.

  Trace took my other hand and jerked me back beside him. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

  I blinked into him.

  What the hell was he doing? Didn’t he know Dominic? Hadn’t he told me to stay away from him not even a week ago? Why would he warn me about someone he’s never even met before?

  He must have been going off of hear-say, I decided. So apparently introductions were in order.

  “Um, Trace, this is Dominic.” I gestured over to him awkwardly and then went back the other way. “Dominic, this is Trace.”

  Neither one extended their hand.

  “Right. So, anyway,” I turned back to Trace. “You don’t need to drive me home after all. Dominic offered to take me.” As much as I wanted to be around him—felt safer with him near me—the situation had not changed. Trace was unavailable. “It’s probably for the best,” I added, ticking my head towards the back where Nikki was sitting with the rest of our friends.

  His jaw muscle tightened as his eyes moved from me to Dominic. “Excuse us.” The words on their own were polite, but his tone was anything but. He pulled me over to the bar, away from Dominic, though he was still very much in earshot of us.

  “I don’t like this,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d feel better if I took you home myself.”

  “I’ll be fine with Dominic. Besides,” I said, lowering my voice. “Nikki’s sitting right there. I’m not about to piss her off on purpose.”

  He looked back at Dominic with disgust. “What do you even know about him?”

  I shrugged. The truth was, I didn’t know any more about Dominic than I did of Trace, or even Taylor for that matter, but that wasn’t stopping me from talking to either of them. I was new in town, after all, it was to be expected.

  “I think that’s the purpose of getting to know someone,” I pointed out. “So unless there’s something specific you think I should know...” I gave him a couple seconds to answer. When he didn’t, I went on, “I’m not going to have this pointless conversation again.”

  He exhaled loudly, jaw pumping again. “Give me your phone.”

  “My phone?”

  “Yes your phone.”

  I took it out from my handbag and handed it over.

  “If anything happens, or you need something…” He looked at me strangely. “A ride or whatever,” he added, tapping the screen in rapid succession. “You have my number.”

  “Okay.” I took the phone back apprehensively.

  He looked over Dominic once more as though sending him some sort of silent warning and then nodded at me before walking off into the kitchen. I immediately saw Nikki jump up from my peripheral and take off running after him.

  Just perfect.

  She must have been gawking at us the entire time, and if she just witnessed him giving me his number, there was no doubt in my mind she was about to go tear him a new one. And, God only knows what she was going to have planned for me.

  The night was still cloaked in a thin layer of dew when we left All Saints. The sky, a rich, dark indigo, was free of any blemishes and gleaming with a million little blinking lights of reassurance. Ironically, it was shaping up to be a picture-perfect night, despite everything that had transpired.

  I followed Dominic alongside the building until he stopped unexpectedly in front of a Matte black Audi R8. He pulled something out of his pocket and pushed a button. The car responded on all fronts.

  “What’s this?” I asked him, surprised, my eyes darting back and forth between him and the wicked ride.

  “This would be my car.” His smile went up a notch as he moved to the passenger side and opened my door. “I thought it appropriate seeing as you don’t enjoy walking very much.”

  “Walking at night,” I quickly corrected, shrinking inward. I knew he would think I was lazy for protesting the walk home the other night.

  “Isn’t that what I said?” he grinned seductively, blurring out the rest of the world with that one little gesture.

  I bit down a smile and climbed into the car.

  The smell of expensive leather mingled in the air with Dominic’s tantalizing cologne—a chocolaty musk—and enveloped me like a luxurious blanket. I barely had a chance to buckle myself in before we were zipping out of the parking lot and tearing down the blacktop road towards the
main boulevard.

  “So tell me more about this incident,” he asked casually as though he were asking about the weather in passing.

  I examined him as he drove.

  “You seem to be quite incident-prone,” he continued when I didn’t answer. “I’m beginning to question your safety.”

  I too was beginning to question my safety. Daily.

  “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “If it’s any consolation, I plan on making use of that whole buddy system from here on out.” That part was the truth. I had no intentions of going anywhere alone at night, ever again. The thought alone made me shudder.

  He stole a glance before returning his eyes to road. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Jemma.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, caught off guard.

  “You put on a brave face, and a beautiful one at that,” he said without averting his eyes from the road. “But I have a feeling you would not have left work in the middle of your shift had the incident been as uneventful as you would like me to believe it was.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “You seem to have a lot of those.”

  A slow spreading grin appeared. “I’m very intuitive.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. He was definitely charming. “Really, it was just a slow night,” I explained, choosing my words carefully. “Plus, Paula the other waitress was there, and they really didn’t need the both of us.”

  “I see.” He shifted in his seat.

  “You know her, right? Paula Dawson?” I asked, curious to see if he’d tell me the truth.

  His cheek pulled up on one side. “I do.”

  “Didn’t you guys date for a while?” I tried feigning nonchalance though my voice hitched up unnaturally at the tail end of the question.

  “Yes, I enjoyed her company on a few occasions, though I’d hardly classify that as dating.”

  “Right. Okay.” I was trying to be tactful with my inquisition, but the questions just seeped from my mouth like verbal diarrhea. “So...what would you classify it as then?”

  “Inconsequential,” he said without missing a beat.

  Both his tone and demeanor were detached, unemotional even. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. On the other hand, I had no reason to doubt that he was being anything but honest with me, however brutal that was for poor Paula.

  I skimmed my neck with my fingertips as I thought it over and noted how incredibly sore I still was. I pulled down the sun visor and stole a peak in the mirror, quickly spotting the sickening color of purple my neck was taking on.

  Perfect. How on earth was I going to explain this one away? I tripped and fell on a vampire?

  And then it hit me. That was the reason Dominic looked at my neck...because it was bruising. Clearly that would have been the logical thing to assume since my neck had just been squeezed to the point of a near larynx dislocation. Jeez, what the heck did I think the reason was going to be anyway?

  I closed the visor and relaxed into my seat a little.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Great,” I lied. I needed to change the subject. “So, there’s this party next Saturday,” I heard myself say. “It’s a house party for some Spring thing.”

  He flashed a crooked grin. “Spring Fling.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “What of it, love?” He was smirking now.

  I was hoping he wouldn’t actually make me say the words but it appeared that he was enjoying watching me squirm way too much to save me from myself. “Well, being that I’m incident-prone and all,” I said, using his word. “I was wondering if maybe, you know, you’d like to come along...with me?”

  The minute the words relayed back to my ears, I winced at them, proving once more I was only a passenger in my own vessel. Desperation, fear, longing—they had all taken the driver’s seat and were apparently asking guys out now. Who was I kidding? I’d probably ask out the entire hockey team if it meant I’d be safe from vampires. At least this option would allow me to spend more time with Dominic.

  “Are you asking me out on a date?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “No.” I felt my cheeks warm. “I’m pretty sure I never said date, I mean...did I? I was just thinking we could—”

  “We definitely could.” He cut in with a smirk before I could further embarrass myself. “I’m looking forward to it, angel.”

  13. FRIDAY NIGHT LIES

  The days following the attack blurred into one another like one long, tangled dream that obliterated any residual semblance of security I might have had left. I found myself hiding in an uncomplicated routine of sorts as I shuffled back and forth between work, school, and home. Long, dragging days broken up only by the finer moments when I’d get to see Dominic.

  I had decided not to tell my uncle about the attack last week out of fear that he would use it as another excuse to push the whole Slayer thing down my throat. I had already told him emphatically that I had no intention of going down that road, and my feelings on that had not changed—attack, or no attack.

  But it appeared that even adamant refusal was not enough to deter my uncle from his mission. Where other men might have laid the issue to rest, my uncle instead continued to offer his reassurance that I would have as much time as I needed to come to terms with all of this. As though time were the problem here. Clearly he was unable to cope with rejection.

  Not only was he not dropping the subject of Bloodsuckers and Slayers, but as chance would have it, he was also after a little bit of my blood himself. It was all I could do to stop from leering at him like his neck had spewed two heads overnight when he sat across the table from me at breakfast and casually asked me to provide him with a sample of blood. So he could run some tests. Like it was a completely normal request.

  When I asked him why, he hesitated to explain himself, and only stated that he wanted to be sure my bloodlines weren’t damaged, and that I was in fact a Slayer.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, feeling as though this was coming out of left field. “What about everything you told me last week—about the Angels, and us being Descendants of them? Was all of that a lie?”

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted the answer to be.

  “Of course not.”

  “So why do you need to test my blood?”

  “Because of the Cloaking Spell,” he said, peeling off his glasses and setting them down on the table. “We need to run some tests to make sure nothing’s been permanently altered before we even attempt to lift the Cloak. Should you allow us, of course.”

  “Altered? Is that even a possibility?” I asked, stupidly. If he wanted to test my blood to see if it had been altered, obviously, altering was a possibility.

  His regretful eyes confirmed what I had already figured.

  “Okay. So how long until we can actually undo the spell?”

  “Well it’s not quite that simple. As I explained before, spells cannot be undone.”

  “Then how are we going to remove the Cloak?”

  “Our best recourse right now is to find the talisman. The Caster who created the Cloak most likely tied the spell to one. If the talisman is found and destroyed, then so is the spell.”

  “Oh.” Interesting. “Like a magical kill switch?”

  “Precisely.”

  Friday night, Taylor arrived at my house in her pristine-white convertible Beetle shortly after nightfall. Her wavy blond locks were pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she was sporting a denim mini with a black and purple letterman jacket. She could have easily stood in as one of the official Bulldog cheerleaders (or Ice Girls as they prefer to be called), and no one would have been the wiser.

  We took our time heading across town. Perhaps a little too much because by the time we arrived, the school parking lot at Easton Prep looked like a patchwork quilt of shimmering metal. I’d never seen so many cars crammed together in one place before, except maybe at a concert once. Tay
lor didn’t seem to bat a lash as she jumped in behind a stream of other cars that began parking in messy rows right there on the grass as though it were a perfectly appropriate alternative.

  According to Taylor, the Weston Bulldogs and Easton Wildcats were longtime rivals, and so it really wasn’t surprising that a game between the two would draw out this many people. Especially a game where the widely known star forward was making his first post-injury appearance back on the ice.

  I followed Taylor into the arena as we made our way down the grandstands of what appeared to be the visitors side, and sat down in the lower mid-section next to Ben who had saved a couple of seats for us. Nikki, Morgan and Hannah were there too, though I noted it was Morgan who was sitting next to Trace, and not Nikki. Apparently, they were still on the outs since the incident at All Saints.

  As per usual, Nikki didn’t waste a chance to show her hatred for me with a flaming scowl as she barked out something along the lines of, “Who the bleep invited her?”

  I resisted the urge to chuck my cell phone at her head though I could practically feel my palms itching for it. I turned to Taylor instead. “Where’s Carly?” I asked upon noticing her absence from the group.

  “On the ice,” she ticked her chin to the rink where the Ice Girls were skating. “She’s a Bulldog.”

  “We all are,” leaned in Hannah. “But after Nikki got put on suspension, we decided to strike in support of her.”

  “Oh, that’s...” so freaking stupid. “Nice.”

  Taylor gave me a crafty side look that let me know she wasn’t part of that debacle. She rarely ever was.

  “We’re petitioning the administration for a hearing,” continued Hannah. Her eyes glistened as she stared out onto the ice longingly. “Hopefully we can all be back out there soon.”

  Something told me she wouldn’t be the one to make that call. In fact, something told me Hannah rarely ever made decisions about what she would or wouldn’t be doing.