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

by Bianca Scardoni

  Another deep chuckle sounded through the room. “Nah, I didn’t pick up any extra abilities.”

  “Then how do you know we’re going to be together? What makes you so sure about it?” I asked, needing to know the full story behind his words. The truth was, this wasn’t the first time Trace had said something like this. It was the exact same thing he used to say to me all those months ago when we were first together.

  It had been easy then to chalk it all up to Morgan sharing her visions with him, but there was no way she was still doing that now with the fragile state Trace was in.

  “Let’s just say I have a gut instinct about it,” he answered offhandedly, giving nothing away as a mischievous grin formed across his perfectly defined lips.

  I gave him a disapproving look. “You’re totally lying to me right now.”

  He laughed again, the sound of it all deep and throaty and completely sexy. The more I heard it, the more my pulse responded to it. “What can I say? I guess you’re not the only one with secrets.”

  My eyes lit up. “So, there is more to it,” I surmised and then pushed forward into his space. “Tell me.”

  He started to shake his head, but I quickly went on before he could finish his objection.

  “Come on, Trace. You say we’re soulmates, but how can that be true if you can’t even be honest with me? Huh?” Yeah, that’s right. I said that. And sure, I wasn’t really one to talk about honesty, but I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to use the soulmate card he held so dearly.

  “Ooh, that’s playing dirty,” he said as he suppressed a smile, the gesture causing both dimples to press in.

  I tried not to fluster as the sight of them. Those damn dimples of his had always been my undoing. “Well, if you were honest with me in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to go there.”

  He thought about it for a second and then flashed a cunning smile. Judging by the look on his face, he’d just come up with an idea that I was most certainly not going to like. “Alright,” he said as he tossed the half-eaten chicken wing back into the plate. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

  “Excuse me?” I tried not to blush, but it sounded so dirty.

  He licked his lips and smiled. “Tell me one of your secrets and I’ll tell you one of mine.”

  “What is this? Truth or dare?” I asked, laughing at the absurdity of it.

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”

  “I was joking,” I pointed out as I leapt off the bed, nearly taking the row of dishes right along with me. “We’re not playing truth or dare.”

  “Why not?” he asked as he stood up then took a looming step toward me. “Are you scared of playing with me?”

  “I’m not scared!” I answered indignantly and with way too much defensiveness. “I just…think it’s stupid.”

  “Suit yourself. It’s no skin off my back,” he said nonchalantly and started to turn, taking all of his juicy secrets right along with him.

  “Wait,” I said and grabbed his arm, thinking. Did I really want to miss out on the chance to learn some of Trace’s most tightly guarded secrets? Doing my best to ignore the electricity buzzing between us, I let go of his arm and asked, “How will I know you’re actually being honest with me?”

  He gazed down at me with another victorious grin on his face and then craned his head as though he were going to tell me a secret right then and there. “I guess we’ll just have to trust each other.”

  Alright, okay, I needed to take a second and think about this. I mean, Trace was actually willing to spill some of his most closely held secrets here—Trace who had always been Fort Knox about everything. Would I really be stupid enough to pass that up out of a fear of playing a stupid kid’s game?

  The more I thought about it, the more it sounded like a damn good deal. I’d be a fool not to take him up on it. Besides, I didn’t have to share anything dangerous with him. I could pick and choose what to tell him. Right? Right.

  “Okay,” I agreed, rubbing my sweaty palms against the front of my pants. “I’m in.”

  “Great. I’ll be right back,” he said and then stalked out of the bedroom.

  “Wait,” I said as I ran into the hallway and then watched as he barreled through it. “Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think?” he said without looking back. “To get the Tequila.”

  Right. Of course. Because mixing alcohol and truth or dare was definitely a great idea.

  9. TRUTH OR DARE

  Less than ten minutes later, Trace and I were sitting across from each other in his bedroom, him on desk chair and me on the edge of his bed with a bottle of Tequila propped up on the night table between us. There was a very vocal and responsible part of me that was screaming how terrible of an idea this was, and that I was asking for trouble by even entertaining it.

  But then there was that other part of me; the part of me that wanted to have some fun, to forget all the horrible things that happened, and in the process, finally be able to dig up some of Trace’s deepest, darkest secrets. And that part of me was a hundred times louder than the other boring bitch.

  Plus, it wasn’t like I had to share anything I wasn’t comfortable sharing, or anything that might trigger a memory. I could pick and choose while using the opportunity to finally get inside Trace Macarthur’s head. Something I never had the opportunity to do, not even when we were dating all those months ago. The more I talked myself into it, the better of an idea it sounded like.

  “I go first,” I decided as Trace set down a shot glass in front of each of us. “Truth or dare?”

  “We need to set the ground rules first,” he said, cutting me a look as he filled up each shot glass.

  “What’s there to set? It’s truth or dare. You pick one and do it. If you chicken out, you take a shot.” Seemed simple enough to me.

  “Is that the way you want to play it?’ he asked, his eyebrow quirked.

  “Well, what did you have in mind?”

  His gleaming blue eyes captured me through the dim bedroom light. “How about we up the stakes a little?”

  I was intrigued. “I’m listening.”

  “Alright…how about for every turn we refuse, we take a shot and remove a piece of clothing?”

  I gave him a knowing look. “You’re just trying to see me naked.”

  “True,” he said, not even bothering to deny it, “but you can easily keep your clothes on by telling the truth or doing the dare. Otherwise, what’s to stop us from passing on every turn?”

  Hm. He had a point there. “Okay, fine. I’m down to play it your way,” I said, silently vowing to get this man in his boxers before the end of the night. “But I’m still going first. Truth or dare?”

  “Dare,” he answered easily, his rebellious eyes boring into me from across the way.

  Dammit. Okay, so he wasn’t going to let me get the truth out of him that easily. No problem. I could still salvage this. Make it fun. Use the one night I had off in god knows how long to actually do something a normal teenager would do. “I dare you to go eat something from the fridge,” I said and then smiled, mighty pleased with myself.

  “No way. Everything’s rotten in there,” he protested, totally missing the point.

  I waggled my eyebrows. “I know.”

  “So that’s how we’re gonna play this, eh?” His voice was low and filled with challenge.

  A grin spread across my face. “What’s it gonna be, Blue Eyes?”

  He blew out an irritated breath. “Pass.”

  “Bottom’s up. Or should I say, bottom’s off?” I threw my head back and laughed hysterically as though my little play on words was the best thing since sliced bread.

  He gave me a pointed look and then picked up the shot glass and tossed it back. “I would’ve brought the salt, but I figured it was pointless since all the lemons went bad.”

  “I’m hearing a lot of talking but not a lot of undressing.” Splaying my palms on the comforter behind me, I crossed
my legs and waited for my show to begin. Heck, this was his idea. I wasn’t about to feel bad about it.

  He set his glass back on the table and filled it up again. His gaze never wandered from mine as he stood up and moved his hands to his jeans as though he were going to take them off. My heart leapt up into my throat and then quickly dropped back down when he bent down and removed his shoes instead.

  His. Freaking. Shoes. “Seriously?”

  And now it was his turn to laugh. “Truth or dare?”

  “Whatever. Dare.” I wasn’t about to give him any kind of opportunity to fish any secrets out of me. This well of information was dried up and cemented over. Nothing was getting out of it.

  “I dare you to call Mr. Watson and ask him if he can bring you some mustard for your lunch tomorrow.”

  My mouth flopped open. There was no way I was going to call my humanities teacher in the middle of the night and ask him for, well, anything. Ticked off, I leaned forward and grabbed the shot glass from the table before throwing it back. With my eyes fixed on him in the most jarring way I could muster, I stood up and removed my hoody. Unlike Trace the cheater, I wasn’t wearing any stupid shoes.

  He tweaked his eyebrows as though he liked where the game was going.

  “Truth or dare?” I bit out sourly.

  “Dare,” he said and pushed against the back of his armless computer chair, rocking it gently.

  I needed to make this one good—nice and humiliating for him. After a moment of thinking about it, I rubbed my palms together conspiratorially and said, “I dare you to ring your neighbors doorbell and tell him you’re there to pick up his wife for your date.”

  He nearly choked on his laugh and then nodded approvingly. “Nice.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re going to do it?”

  “Not a chance,” he said and reached forward for the shot glass. He promptly tossed it back and then leaned forward to take off his socks.

  I crossed my arms and glared at him. “How many pointless layers of clothing are you wearing exactly?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he answered teasingly, obviously pleased by my annoyance. “Truth or dare?”

  I huffed out a breath of frustration. “Dare.”

  “I dare you to lick the rim of a toilet bowl seat,” he said, grinning like a total idiot. “I’ll even let you pick the bowl.”

  There was obviously no chance in fresh hell that I was going to do that. Without even explaining myself, I swiped up my shot glass and tossed it back.

  Shaking from the burn, I slammed the glass back down on the night table and then stood up. Since I had very minimal options here, I decided to take off my tank top since the only other option I had was my pants and I refused to get down to my underwear in front of Trace. Especially while he was sitting there fully clothed.

  Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up over my head and then tossed it on the floor beside his chair.

  Trace sucked in a sharp breath as his gaze immediately climbed up the length of my body and then stopped on my chest, taking in the mounds under my black satin bra. Judging by the sinful look that was darkening his eyes, he was wholly enjoying what he was seeing.

  Without bothering to cover up, I sat back down on the bed and stared him down. “Truth or dare?”

  He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Dare.”

  “Seriously?” I scoffed at him because this was sooo not going the way I thought this was going to go. “I thought you said we were going to share secrets,” I pointed out without even bothering to hide my disappointment.

  “We are.”

  “Are we? Because so far we’re just taking off our clothes and getting drunk together.”

  “I know.” His dimples deepened as his wolfish grin reached all the way up to his heated eyes.

  “Trace,” I whined.

  “Alright, fine,” he said as he widened his thighs and let his gaze sweep over me again. “Truth.”

  I smiled victoriously. Okay, so it wasn’t an actual victory, but I was taking the win anyway. “How do you know we’re going to end up together?”

  “Wow, you just went right for it, eh?” He ran his hand along his jawline and then pushed back against his chair again. “My mother’s a Seer,” he answered coolly, and my eyes immediately doubled in size. “Not a fullblood, but enough to pass some of it down to me.”

  Tension coiled up my spine as I processed that.

  “So, does that mean you can like—” I swallowed past the dryness in my throat as this brand-new information sank all the way in. “See the future?”

  A wry smile stretched across his face. “That sounds like another question,” he pointed out, letting me know he wasn’t going to make it that easy for me to extract all his secrets. Fucker! “Truth or dare, Jemma?”

  Liking where this was going, I figured it was only fair that I threw him a bone, too. “Truth.”

  His easy smile widened, deepening his dimples as he pinned me under that smoldering gaze of his. “Were you in love with me before my accident?”

  A burst of air rushed out of me as I sat there stunned. I knew he wasn’t going to make it easy for me, but I really wasn’t expecting a full-blown grenade to the face right off the bat. I mean, I kind of thought he would ease into it, you know, get to know each other first.

  Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, I toggled back and forth between my options. I could either skip the question altogether, which would both tip him off anyway and land me sitting in my bra and underwear, or I could admit what he probably already knew anyway.

  Doing my best not to shrink away from his stare, I answered his question. “Yeah…I was in love with you.”

  “Was…” he repeated quietly, his probing eyes all but liquifying me under their weight. “As in, you’re not anymore?”

  “That’s another question,” I reminded him, because two could certainly play that game.

  He dipped his head in a nod, but there was something dangerous brewing in his eyes now. Intrigue. Determination. Like he’d spotted his mission and was gunning straight for it.

  A crash of thunder exploded outside the windows, making the lamp flicker on the desk behind him.

  Enjoying the charge in the air, I wet my lips and asked, “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” he said, eyeing me with purpose, as if to let me know he expected me to follow suit again.

  “Are you able to see the future?” I asked with bated breath.

  He filled up both shot glasses and my shoulders sagged, assuming he was going to dodge my question. “Not everything and not always. It comes and goes, usually just bits and pieces, but enough to know it’s a vision.”

  “Wow.” Mindlessly, I scooped my hair up and pulled it to one side of my neck. Trace watched, his eyes bouncing below my neckline before returning to my eyes. “And you saw us together? Like, what? Married or something?”

  “My turn,” he said, making it clear he wasn’t going to be giving me any freebies. “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” I answered fervently, wanting to keep this part of the game going. This was, after all, the purpose of agreeing to play it in the first place.

  He leaned forward on his knees and pinned me under his fierce gaze. “Are you still in love with me?”

  My pulse exploded in my neck, throbbing so wildly that I was sure he could see it.

  I had no idea how I was going to answer this question without calling open season on myself. Of course, I was still in love with him. You don’t just stop loving a person because they died. Sometimes, you don’t even stop loving a person when you fall in love with someone else—something I once thought impossible until it happened to me.

  But this truth…it was too much to speak aloud. Too much to explain. Too difficult to revisit. I didn’t have the words to speak my truth to him nor was I confident that he was ready to hear it.

  Deciding to take the cowardly way out, I leaned forward and picked up the shot glass.

/>   Trace winced as though my refusal to answer the question physically hurt him. But it was better this way. Better that he didn’t know why I was choosing not to answer. As far as he knew, it could have gone either way. I could be refusing because I did in fact love him and was too scared to tell him so, or because I didn’t love him, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying as much to his face. Hopefully, he was hanging onto the latter one.

  For both of our sakes.

  I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans as Trace’s melancholy gaze flicked up to my waistline. Strobes of hunger lit up his eyes as I dragged the zipper down and then pushed my jeans down over my hips.

  Sinking back in his chair, he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth as he fixed his gaze on me like I was some long-buried treasure chest about to be cracked wide open. Feeling emboldened, I shimmied the rest of the way out of my jeans as he ran his hand along his jaw again and cursed, his eyes all but lapping up every inch of my skin.

  “Truth or dare?” I asked as I sat back down, crossed my legs and smiled. At least he wasn’t thinking about my answer to his last question anymore.

  His eyes climbed up from my bare legs to my eyes, but the transition looked painful, like it took an enormous amount of effort to tear his eyes away. He cleared his throat and examined me for a moment before saying, “Dare.” There was a shiny new plan brewing in his eyes and it looked positively wicked.

  I tapped my finger on my chin and thought about it for a moment. I needed to throw him a hardball if for no other reason than to make sure he removed a proper piece of clothing so that I wasn’t the only sitting in my underpants anymore. “I dare you videotape yourself humping the table like a dog and then post it on your social media.” I grinned stupidly because there was no way in hell he was going to do that.

  He picked up his phone from the night table and stood up just as my jaw unhinged.

  “WHAT?! You have got to be kidding me. There’s no way you’re doing that,” I shrieked incredulously.

  “Correct.” Winking playfully, he tossed his phone back onto the table, picked up the shot glass and downed it.