Inception (The Marked Book 1)

by Bianca Scardoni

  I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.

  It seemed that with just a smile and a few blinks of his smoldering eyes, Taylor had been reduced to a blushing heap of mush—fawning over everything from his scent, to his hair, to his car. Of course, Dominic didn’t seem to mind it in the slightest, and may have even been enjoying it, so I just smiled along with them and let her rant go on uninterrupted. As entertaining as they were, it still wasn’t very long before I found my own eyes drifting back towards the kitchen.

  Back to Trace.

  The conversation between us last night had gone from icy to nuclear and then back again in a matter of minutes, and left me agitated long after we left the restaurant. I couldn’t figure out what it was about him that got under my skin so easily.

  Maybe it was that ever-guarded exterior he wore like body armor, or the way he could validate or dismiss me with a minor shift of those piercing, reticent eyes. Or how he always seemed to be there at the most pivotal moments—like when I fainted at work, or when I was attacked behind All Saints. It was peculiar.

  Everything I knew about him amounted to nothing and only left me with more questions. And a longing. A longing for answers, and for something else. Something I couldn’t even name.

  Trace looked up at me just then, meeting my prying eyes with his own blend of curiosity. The connection made my breath hitch, but I kept my eyes locked on him, and his on mine. There was something special about those eyes—

  “Helloooo?” Taylor waved her hand in front of my face.

  “Huh?” My cheeks heated up as I realized her and Dominic were both staring at me, waiting for me to answer a question I hadn’t heard. “I’m sorry, what are we talking about?”

  “We’re inquiring about drinks,” she laughed.

  “What about them?”

  “Whether you’d like one, love,” Dominic whispered into my ear, his cologne filling up my space with its delicious scent.

  I started to turn to face him and felt his lips graze against my cheek. I stopped before making the full rotation, knowing where his lips would end up if I completed it.

  I nodded instead.

  On our way to the kitchen, we landed in the middle of an argument between a red-headed sophomore and her boyfriend (who were both visibly upset and completely blocking the entry), arguing about whether she was flirting with some guy named Toby. Or Tony.

  Judging by their slurred speech and glazed eyes, they were definitely drunk on a lot more than just love.

  Taylor, never one to shy away from...well anything, was quick to wrap her arm around the feuding couple and offer mock consolation as she guided them out of the kitchen. I watched as she tactically inserted a freshman mediator into the car wreck of a scene and then slipped out unnoticed.

  Clearly this wasn’t her first drunken rodeo.

  Seconds later, she was back in the kitchen introducing Dominic to the rest of the girls who promptly swarmed around him, cooing and pawing at him, and (most likely) unintentionally pushing me out of the circle. The whole thing was ridiculous.

  I backed out and headed to the breakfast-table-turned-bar where I poured myself a glass of soda from the sidelines.

  “Hey, Blackburn.”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice in my ear, nearly spilling my drink on myself in the process.

  It was the hockey player slash party host.

  “Hey, Caleb.” I patted down my shirt to make sure I wasn’t soaked in cola. “Great party.”

  “Glad you could make it.” He smiled warmly and took a sip of his own drink. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Yeah, definitely, it’s amazing.” Amazing? Okay, so I was exaggerating a little. There was no law against it.

  I put my cup down and refilled my drink.

  “I saw you at the game yesterday,” he said, bending forward slightly to catch my eye, his chestnut hair and high cheekbones highlighted under the dim overhead lights. “I wanted to talk to you after the game, but you left before I got a chance.”

  “Sorry, I had an early curfew—”

  “Thanks for bringing the lady-bandit,” interrupted Ben, appearing beside Caleb and I, visibly annoyed as he nudged his chin towards Dominic and his adoring fan-girls. “There’s like fifteen girls around him.”

  “No there isn’t.” I stifled a laugh. “There’s probably like five, six tops.” It didn’t matter either way, I was fairly certain that Ben was only concerned about one particular girl from the bunch anyway. Not that he’d admit it.

  “You came with him?” asked Caleb, eying Dominic now.

  “Yeah…I hope that’s okay?” I suddenly felt weirded-out, like maybe it was inappropriate, or presumptuous, to invite him without clearing it with the hosts first.

  “Sure, it’s no problem,” he said smiling. It seemed sincere.

  I looked back at where Trace and Nikki had been standing and found the spot empty. He was gone. Both of them were. Probably together. I didn’t want to care, but I kind of did.

  I turned back to Dominic and found him still backed up against the wall, surrounded by my half-inebriated classmates. He looked over at me and twisted his lips into a smile. A fully kissable, dangerous smile.

  He bent forward and whispered something to the girls and just like that, slipped through the pinning crowd and began walking back over to me, slowly, confidently, far more sure of himself than any other guy at this party.

  “Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” He punctuated his words with a gentle caress of my cheek.

  I shook my head, biting my lower lip.

  A look of torture took hold of his face when his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Simply ravishing.”

  Funny, I was thinking the same thing about him. I could feel my heart rate climbing again.

  He took a step forward, fully breaking the bounds of my personal space, and leaned in close to me like only he knew how to do. I was half expecting him to jam a purse or a cup into my belly when he said, “would you like to get out of here?”

  Something in his eyes was tempting me—daring me, and I was nodding even before my brain had a chance to process the offer, or what exactly I might have been agreeing to.

  “I just need to use the ladies room,” I blurted out and then sashayed around him before he had a chance to respond. I snatched Taylor by the wrist on my way out of the kitchen.

  “What’s up, babe?” she asked as we pushed through the boiling crowd of people.

  We needed a new plan for meeting up tonight being that I was supposed to be sleeping over at her house. And I needed a splash of cold water to help get my wits together.

  “Bathroom?” I asked, and then followed her upstairs to the second floor washroom.

  “Look who it is, Mor.”

  Nikki and Morgan were standing in front of the door with hands on their hips and scowls on their lips as soon as we rounded the corner. Somehow, it didn’t feel like a coincidence.

  “Excuse us,” I said and tried to cut in between them.

  “Actually, you’re not excused,” sneered Nikki as she stepped in front of me and blocked the door. “I think it’s time the two of us had ourselves a little chat.”

  I crossed my arms protectively. I had no idea what she could possibly need to discuss with me (or whether or not she had any more liquor bombs planned) but I had the sneaking suspicion I wasn’t getting out of here until I heard her out.

  “Trace and I are getting back together,” she blurted, smacking her scarlet lips together. “We were together last night. I just thought you should hear it from me first.”

  I held myself as taut as I could and tried not to give away any of the feelings rocketing through me just then—anger, annoyance, disappointment. Jealousy.

  I was unsure how to process any of this, but the last thing I wanted to do was let Nikki know she was getting to me.

  “That’s really great for you,” I offered, my voice noticeably on edge. “And you’re telling me this because...?” />
  “Oh, you don’t know?” she snorted. “You’re even denser than you look, you know that?”

  “Quit giving her a hard time, Nikki.” Taylor squirmed her way in between us. “She’s not after Trace, okay? She’s here with Dominic Huntington so just back off.”

  “Did I ask for your opinion?” snapped Nikki as she shoved her back a step.

  “Hey!” I flung my arm out in front of Taylor. “Leave her out of this,” I warned, forming a barrier between the two of them.

  “Look who’s finally growing a backbone—how very stupid of you,” snarled Nikki, insulting me and provoking me at the same time. “So tell me, Jemma, does Dominic know about your late night dates with Trace? Because I’m sure he’d be interested to hear all about them. I know I was.”

  “What late night date?” I could hear the hurt in Taylor’s voice at the idea that I was keeping secrets from her.

  “There was no late night date,” I said definitively, my eyes never leaving Nikki. “And honestly, I don’t think he would care. He doesn’t strike me as the insecure-raging-bitch type.”

  Morgan’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

  Oh my God! Who gave my mouth permission to say that?

  Nikki took a step into me. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

  The house lights flickered on and off.

  There must have been a storm coming in, though something about the air felt menacing, ominous, like a whispered warning, heeding me to back off. Playing with Nikki was like playing with fire, and I was bound to get burned.

  I so didn’t want to get burned.

  I needed to diffuse this, and fast. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, Nikki. We obviously got off on the wrong foot—”

  “Spare me the bullshit,” she cut in, her lips in a frightening curl. “You pretty much sealed your fate the minute you moved here, and the way I see it, any girl with a death wish as big as yours is free game.”

  I staggered back a step, her strange threat having just sucker punched me in the gut.

  “Whoa!” Taylor raised her arms in the air like a referee. “I think we need to calm down with the homicidal threats and take it down a few notches.”

  “She’s right. C’mon Nikki, let’s just go,” said Morgan nervously, turning for the stairs.

  Nikki didn’t budge. “The best thing you can do, Jemma, is to stay the hell out of my way. You have no idea who you’re dealing with and I promise you, you don’t want to find out.”

  “Oh my God, we get it!” snapped Taylor. “You’re the baddest bitch and Trace is yours. Message received.”

  “It better be. For Jemma’s sake.” She gave us the middle finger salute before turning on her heel and disappearing down the stairs with Morgan in tow.

  I stood there motionless, caught somewhere between shock and anger. “What the hell is her problem?” How could someone have that much venomous hate for me without even knowing me?

  “I know, right?” said Taylor, shaking her head incredulously. “She’s been on mean-girl steroids ever since you moved here. I’ve never seen her this bad.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “Sorry, babe,” she laughed, though her smile was short-lived. “Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s obvious she has it in for you and trying to be nice is only giving her more power. I think it’s time to fight fire with fire and give her a little taste of her own medicine—hair remover in her shampoo maybe?” She ticked her brows mischievously.

  She had a point—not about the hair remover, that was just insane—but about trying to be on good terms with Nikki. It was the equivalent of trying to put out a raging fire by asking it nicely. It was stupid, and pointless, and would only leave me with third degree burns in the end. Or worse.

  Backing down from her time and time again only fueled her inferno and made her bolder and more powerful, and I refused to give her that kind of power over me. I was officially done taking shit from Nikki Parker.

  I left the party with Dominic shortly after the altercation and drove out to Northern Peak, a lookout near the old Hollow Hills Cemetery. Though I was undoubtedly relieved to be away from Nikki and her madness, I wasn’t particularly inspired by his choice of destinations. In fact, just hearing the word cemetery gave me the willies, though after a little coaxing and a promise that we’d only be near it, and not in it, I eventually agreed to go.

  With the rain finally letting up, we parked at the back of the church and walked on foot the rest of the way. It was just a short march down the gravel path to a small clearing that overlooked the mainland. And he was right, the view was breathtaking. Glowing homes cascaded all the way down the hillside and met at the center of the expansive valley, peppering the town with a web of warm lights for miles in every direction. The bordering, phantom trees on the outskirts held it all together in total isolation, seemingly blacking out the rest of the world around us.

  “It really is beautiful,” I said in awe as we leaned against the dry stone wall and took in the haunting vista.

  “It is,” he agreed, gazing at me as he coiled a loose strand of my hair around his finger and then tucking it behind my ear. His touch sent a ripple down my back.

  “Am I making you nervous?” he asked. His voice was like silk against hungry skin, smooth and seducing in every way.

  Of course I was nervous. How could I not be with that voice in my ears, and those eyes on me, and that tugging smile on his lips? Everything about him stirred my insides.

  “No,” I lied, my heart hammering hard against its cage, threatening to betray my words.

  He raised a skeptical brow and moved in closer as though he were challenging me to resist him. I already knew I’d lose that bet. I flattened my back against the stone wall, steadying myself so I didn’t topple over from the sudden rush.

  “Maybe a little,” I admitted.

  His mouth hinted at a smile as he studied my eyes with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. “You like me,” he accused, seemingly amused by this.

  “No I don’t!” Something about the way he made the claim made me not want to give him the satisfaction.

  He moved in closer until we were nearly touching and placed his arms on the stone wall on either side of me, leaning in. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, whispering into my ear.

  I wasn’t even sure of my name anymore.

  His lips twisted into a satisfied grin. “That’s what I thought,” he said as his eyes drifted out over my head into the darkness behind me, before resting pensively on my face again. “Tell me, Jemma, have you ever been kissed before?”

  My heart was beating wildly now. If he could hear it, if he could feel it racing, he’d know the answer. But since he couldn’t, I’d sooner die than admit I’d never been kissed.

  “Tons of times,” I said and then cringed at my own response.

  “I think you’re lying, angel.”

  I didn’t look up when I answered, “Maybe a little.”

  His hands came up and moved through my hair, pushing the loose strands away from my face, and then slid back down the other way, over the apples of my cheeks. I shivered through each caress, sighing as he cupped my face in his hands.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he informed. “Is that okay?”

  A strange noise bubbled out from my throat, some kind of inaudible mumble. I think it was a yes.

  I looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes and inhaled sharply as his thumb skimmed the surface of my lips, studiously, tauntingly, before his own lips pressed down onto mine.

  I felt the rush from his kiss soar through me like a missile, awakening every cell in my body with its searing emissions. His lips moved over mine hungrily, expertly, and I followed suit as the earth all-but stopped its rotation in honor of my very first kiss. My mind-numbing first kiss.

  An entire lifetime came and went before his lips detached from mine and reemerged just below my ear as he strung an even row of kisses all the way down my neck, r
eaching my collarbone and working their way back up to the top, gently, slowly—deliciously slow.

  And then came the pain.

  The barrage of soft, velvety kisses ceased their torrent, and were replaced with a sharp ache at the hub of my neck. I winced from the pain and tried twisting away from it, but I was immovable. Something was hurting me, and worse, I couldn’t break free from it.

  And then, like a brutal flash of consciousness, the horrifying realization set in that it was him—Dominic.

  He was biting me.

  16. REALITY BITES

  I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears as Dominic Huntington locked me against his chest and growled into me, feeding on me freely and without my permission. I wanted to fight back, to hit him where it hurt and run, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but whimper in his arms.

  Something strange was happening to me.

  An unmistakable feeling of lethargy washed over me, traveling through me—through my bloodstream, pacifying every cell in my body as it moved. And just like that, I was barely fit to stand upright anymore. My legs were weak beneath me, tingling like the rest of my body with synthetic sensations of solace, and serenity, and something else, something horrifying...

  Pleasure.

  It was Dominic. He was doing this to me—immobilizing me with his bite like the tainted venom of a pernicious snake, and all I could do was clasp onto him harder as hot tears burned disgraced tracks down the contours of my face.

  The world was spiraling out of control around me, nauseating me with every rotation as an insidious, deafening, buzzing noise filled up the space in my head, drowning out all other sounds, including my own vitals. This was it. I was either going to black out from the blood loss, or worse, I was going to die because he wasn’t going to stop.

  My lids, too weighty for me to keep open anymore, slipped closed by their own accord, and my arms soon followed suit, dropping heavy to my sides. I was limp now, deadweight in his arms, and then suddenly, I was falling, crumbling to the ground.

  Had he released me?

  Or was I dead?