Incipient: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 6)

by Bianca Scardoni

  INCIPIENT

  BIANCA SCARDONI

  THE MARKED BOOK SIX

  COPYRIGHT © 2020 BIANCA SCARDONI

  All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without express written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in an article or book review.

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook and for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-9993874-7-1 (paperback)

  ISBN: 978-1-9993874-6-4 (kindle)

  For everyone who is still on this journey with me.

  This one is for you.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  1. WIDE AWAKE

  2. BAD BLOOD

  3. SIGN OF THE TIMES

  4. READY OR NOT

  5. BLANK SPACE

  6. POISON AND WINE

  7. RETROGRADE

  8. A CASE OF YOU

  9. TRUTH OR DARE

  10. HEARTBREAK WARFARE

  11. IF WE WERE MADE OF WATER

  12. ROLLING IN THE DEEP

  13. RUSSIAN ROULETTE

  14. RUNNING UP THAT HILL

  15. WITH OR WITHOUT YOU

  16. THE A TEAM

  17. YOUNGBLOOD

  18. BETTER NOW

  19. NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY

  20. UNINVITED

  21. LOST ON YOU

  22. NIGHT CRAWLING

  23. KISS ME WHEN I BLEED

  24. DANCING WITH A STRANGER

  25. TALK THAT TALK

  26. STRAIGHT, NO CHASER

  27. THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

  28. WICKED GAME

  29. NOTHING BREAKS LIKE A HEART

  30. LONG WAY FROM HOME

  31. WHITE RABBIT

  32. BABY IN BLUE JEANS

  33. NO ORDINARY LOVE

  34. LAST CHANCE

  35. THE VIOLET HOUR

  36. SEX ON FIRE

  37. DANGEROUS WOMAN

  38. LOVE IS WICKED

  39. RIVER OF DECEIT

  40. HIGHWAY TO HELL

  41. YOU BROKE ME FIRST

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  GLOSSARY

  ANAKIM INDEX

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

  only light can do that.

  1. WIDE AWAKE

  An eerie hush fell over the old, deserted barn as I stared across at the two Horsemen standing before me. Liquid dread filtered into my bloodstream at breakneck speeds, making my head spin as War’s premonition replayed over and over again in my mind’s eye.

  How had we not seen this coming?

  How could we have been so wrong about everything?

  Trace tightened his hand around mine as the angry rain continued to pelt down against the rickety structure, making it tremble under the impact. Or maybe it was me that was trembling? Honestly, I couldn’t tell. It was hard to be sure of anything anymore.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that we had messed this thing up. Royally.

  The Horsemen were never here for us—they were here to stop Lucifer’s seed from ever seeing the light of day. So, how had our lines gotten so crossed that I ended up killing one of the Horsemen and thus stopping them from activating the Power of Four—the one and only chance we had of stopping Lucifer’s offspring from bringing the world to its knees.

  White hot rage perforated my vision as realization set in.

  Pricilla had played me, that’s how. She had manipulated the facts and warped everything to make it suit her agenda, to get me to run straight into the trap she’d so carefully set out for me. And like an idiot, I played right into her hand.

  That lying bitch was going to get what was coming to her. For this. For Dominic. For fucking breathing in my vicinity. I didn’t care if it was going to be the last thing I ever did; Pricilla was going to pay for this. For all of it.

  Trace squeezed my hand again as if to call my attention back to him—to the moment. His blue eyes met mine and then stayed there as if to make sure I was stepping away from that edge I was getting ready to throw myself off of, and then he narrowed his gaze on the Horsemen.

  “Why should we believe any of this?” he asked, obviously being far more skeptical than I was. But that was because he didn’t have all the pieces. Not the way I had them. “If you’re here for Lucifer’s spawn, or whatever you’re calling it, then why not come to us beforehand? Why not reach out to the Order?”

  Famine stepped forward, clutching his bloody abdomen with an angry scowl on his face. “We don’t work for the Order. We had no reason to reach out to any of you. Perhaps you invalids should have reached out to us before—”

  “Who the fuck are you calling invalids?” snapped Trace as he took a step forward, but I quickly yanked him back to my side. We really didn’t need to start a war with these guys unless we needed to, which apparently, we didn’t.

  If what War had shown me was true, then we were all on the same side. A side that was quickly losing ground due to one still-missing Horsemen, and now a dead one.

  “Everyone needs to calm the hell down,” I shrieked frantically as I tried to take in a steadying breath. My head was spinning faster than a merry-go-round and the last thing I wanted to do was yack all over them. We needed to regroup. To get our heads on straight. To figure out our next move. At least that was what I needed to do.

  I was seriously spiraling here.

  “Trace, can we go to your cabin?” I asked, turning to face him. We needed a place that was off the grid and not directly connected to me while I figured out exactly what the hell was going on in this god forsaken town.

  “Of course.” He nodded and then made a face. “They’re going to have to leave their horses here though.”

  “We don’t travel without our steeds,” informed War, all high and mighty.

  “Well, you’re going to need to make an exception,” I answered unsympathetically. “Your buddy there is bleeding out and needs to have his wounds looked at and I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to tell the Council.” Not to mention, I needed to speak to the mother-to-be directly. To see her growing belly with my own damn eyes. As far as I was concerned, none of this was fact until I confirmed it for myself.

  With an irritated groan at the back of his throat, War turned on his heel and headed to the back of the barn to tie up their horses as Trace turned to me with worry etched into his features.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his baritone voice low. “They could be lying to us.”

  “They could be,” I acknowledged and then shook my head, “but I don’t think they are. Besides, if they are lying, the last thing I want to do is lose track of them.”

  Trace nodded as War circled back to us.

  His dark eyes were as hard as stone. “We have to wait for Death to join us.”

  For a second, I thought he was speaking figuratively and looked at him as such, and then I remembered the fourth horsemen. “Right. Well, we can wait, but I don’t think your brother-from-another-mother is going to fair very well,” I said, gesturing over to the blood-soaked Famine.

  He thought about it for a moment. “How far is this cabin you speak of?”

  “It’s just a skip and hop through time and space.”

  His stony eyes twitched with confusion.


  “Trace is a Reaper,” I clarified. “He can port us there.”

  His gaze darted to Trace as if to inspect his capacity to properly transport us anywhere. Appearing satisfied with his inspection, he offered a curt nod and then crossed his arms over his massive chest.

  Trace quickly reached out and squeezed my hand and then tried to steady Famine with his other hand around his upper arm. Famine shucked Trace’s touch off and speared him with a look that said, ‘touch me again and I’ll make sure you die a slow, agonizing death’.

  “We have to all be touching in order for him to port us there,” I said, reaching my own free hand out to War.

  The two horsemen exchanged glances as if silently speaking to each other and then conceded.

  Within seconds, that familiar icy air wrapped itself around my body like a frozen blanket as Trace moved us through the magnanimous maze of time and space. Before I could even shudder from the cold, we were already materializing in his father’s old cabin.

  The horsemen immediately severed the connection to us, but Trace and I continued to hold hands as we acclimated to the new space and temperature.

  “Nice parlor trick,” muttered Famine through clenched teeth. “Now can one of you do something about this hemorrhaging cavity in my stomach?”

  Trace let go of my hand and rushed off to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit as I took in the horsemen before me, trying desperately to make sense of the mess I’d gotten myself into.

  How the hell was I going to fix this one?

  I needed time to think. Time to come up with a plan. Time to—

  “We don’t have any more time,” answered War, his tone flat.

  My surprised gaze shot up to his and then tapered. Just great. Yet another ease-dropper in the midst. I should have seen that one coming. “Well, we’re going to have to make some time. I need to figure out our next move.”

  “What is there to figure out?” asked War, looking genuinely perplexed by the notion. “The objective has not changed.”

  “Are you sure? Because your foursome sure has,” I pointed out with a quick gesture around the room which was clearly lacking half their horsemen pack. “Besides, Lucifer’s kid hasn’t even been born yet. There’s obviously not much you can do until that happens, right?”

  War and Famine exchanges glances, but neither one confirmed my summary.

  I narrowed my eyes and stepped forward. “You are waiting for the kid to be born, aren’t you?”

  “That was the intention,” answered War, thick arms bundled across his colossal chest.

  “Was? As in, it isn’t anymore?” Nausea rolled through my stomach as I waited for him to clarify.

  “Without the Power of Four, we may not be able to stop it once it’s out of utero,” answered War as though we were discussing something as mundane as a leaky faucet. “We will not take that risk.”

  “So, what are you saying? You’re going to kill it before it’s even born? How can you do that without killing the mother?” I asked as Trace walked back into the room, his pace slowing as he took in the tail-end of our conversation.

  “Most likely, we cannot,” replied Famine as he ran a bloodied hand through his muddled strands of hair. “Though that is of no concern to us.”

  “Well, it’s a concern to me,” I quickly fired back. I may not have liked Nikki very much, if at all really, but this was too much even for me. I wasn’t about to climb on board of a plan that involved killing a pregnant girl. “Besides, you don’t even know if the baby’s going to be evil.”

  War snorted, though it came out more like a growl. “It’s of Lucifer’s blood.”

  I immediately bristled. “So am I.”

  War’s eyes flickered over me. “It has been prophesized.”

  “Prophesies change all the time. You can’t know until you actually know.” Wait. Did that even make sense?

  “Hardly,” replied War, doing that mind reading thing again that pissed me right the hell off.

  I glared at him. “Look, we’re not doing anything rash until I get a chance to speak to…the girl—the mother. Maybe we can convince her to hand over the baby to the Council. They can run tests and see if the—”

  War all but laughed in my face. “She will never hand over her flesh and blood. She is already bonded with it. She will protect it with her life.”

  Famine winced as Trace applied antiseptic to the wound.

  I shook my head at War. “You don’t know that.”

  “No. It is you who doesn’t know, or simply doesn’t want to know. I have already seen what is to be.”

  If this was true, why the hell hadn’t the Sang Noir mentioned any of it? What good was Angelic scripture if it left out all of the important parts? Then again, we hadn’t exactly finished translating it…

  War perked up suddenly. “Do you mean to say you have the book in your possession?”

  “Seriously? Stop doing that.”

  “Not possible,” he answered unapologetically. “Do you?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Do I what?”

  “Have the book,” he growled. “Is it in your possession?”

  “No, it is not,” I answered stiffly and then crossed my arms, leaving out the part about how I wouldn’t share it with him even if I did. Grumpy arsehole.

  “I will require access to that book at once.”

  I blinked at him. “Yeah. Good luck with that. The Council has it under lock and key.

  “Then they must accommodate me.” He gazed at me distastefully. “Or are they also so eager to serve Lucifer?”

  “Eager to serve Lucif—?” I glared at him like the maniac he was. “Just because I don’t want to murder a mother and her unborn child based on your word alone doesn’t automatically mean I’m batting for Lucifer. Everything is not white or black here. There are shades of gray in between.”

  “Not where I come from. Where I come from, there is good and there is evil—the righteous and the wicked.”

  My eyes rolled all the way back into my head. I clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere with the all-knowing, stubborn rider, and honestly, he was starting to give me a migraine. I knew he wasn’t going to budge an inch on this, but neither was I. I refused to even entertain a mother-and-unborn-child murdering plot let alone be complicit in it. Not until I was absolutely sure there was no other way around it. And even then…

  Needing this entire conversation to go away, I met his gaze and sighed. “Look, you can’t do anything until your third rider arrives anyway, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “So, how about you just sit tight and relax here for a bit. Maybe watch some television and acquaint yourself with modern living and all the joys of it.”

  He looked at me as though I had just sprouted an eyeball on my forehead.

  Good enough, I thought as I turned to Trace. “Can you stay here with them until I get back?”

  “Where are you going?” Trace and War’s voices overlapped each other.

  “I’m going to talk to the Council.” It wasn’t a lie per se, because I did intend to meet with William, the Senior Magister, but not until I paid Nikki Parker a visit first. I needed to see her belly; hear it from her mouth first-hand.

  “I should come with you,” replied Trace, that all-too-familiar worry skewing his beautiful face.

  I shook my head. “I need you to stay with them—especially him,” I added, gesturing to the injured Famine. “I just need you to port me to my car.”

  “Us,” corrected War. “I will be accompanying you.”

  I started to shake my head, but he quickly interjected. “That wasn’t a request.” His jaw was set into a firm line and his eyes were stone-cold with determination.

  I paused to think about it for a moment and then nodded. I knew I wasn’t going to change his mind, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Whatever. Pretty sure the Council’s going to want to have a word with you anyway. Might as well save me the extra trip.”


  2. BAD BLOOD

  The cold wind whistled past my ears as we materialized in the wooded area behind Temple. War immediately took in the landscape around us, as though trying to acclimate himself to a world he’s never physically visited as Trace continued holding my hand and then squeezing it gently to call my attention back to him.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I looked up at him and forced a smile.

  His blue eyes glimmered with a mixture of apprehension and sadness and for the faintest of seconds, it pained my heart to look at them. “Call me as soon as you leave Temple. I’m serious, Jemma.”

  It took every ounce of restraint I had to not reach up and touch his face. To kiss away all that hurt and worry he had running rampant through his eyes. “I will. Stop worrying about me, you’re going to give yourself gray hair.”

  Trace cracked a smile as the humming in my body intensified, making me sway a little from the sudden rush. The vibration between us had always been palpable and ever present, but lately, it seemed to be getting stronger. Harder to ignore. It was very confusing to say the least.

  He squeezed my hand once more and then let go of it before stepping away from me. With a quick wink, he silently dissipated back into nothingness and I instantly felt the loss.

  I pulled in a deep breath as though needing to adjust to breathing again without him. Turning back to War, I remarked his bare chest and medieval looking armor and made a face. “Wait here while I get my car.”

  “I already told you. I’m going wherever you’re going.”

  “Not like that you aren’t,” I said, pointing my finger at his ridiculous outfit. “In case you haven’t already noticed, people don’t dress like that around here.” Or around anywhere for that matter.

  He looked down at himself briefly and then before I could even squeeze out another blink, his skin rippled and shimmered as an entirely different outfit than the one he’d showed up in materialized on his body. One that looked remarkably similar to what Trace had been wearing: a pair of jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, though his looked as though it were about to rip wide open over his muscles if he so much as flexed the wrong way.