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

by Bianca Scardoni

  With a heavy breath of surrender, he brought the glass to his lips and then tipped his head back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed my blood, his pupils exploding outward as they wiped out any semblance of his moss-green eyes. The glass shattered in his hands as he took a predatory step toward me for more.

  Trace pushed me backward as he stepped in front of me, blocking Gabriel’s view. “Take a breath, man. You don’t want to do anything stupid.”

  Gabriel’s bloody hand was opening and closing beside him as though trying to control whatever primal urge had risen to the surface. “I. Need. A. Minute,” he said, a terrifying growl sounding deep in his chest as he zipped out of the cellar and disappeared, leaving barely a blur of his shadow behind.

  “Well, that went well,” I mumbled bitterly, feeling the sickening ping of guilt in my gut.

  “He’ll be fine,” answered Trace with his back still pressed to my chest and my arms wound tightly around him like a security blanket. It took him a moment to relax his stance and turn around to face me again. “He just needs a minute,” he said softly, repeating Gabriel’s parting words as he rubbed small circles against my lower back.

  “He’s going to need a lot more than that,” I said as the worry and guilt churned in my stomach, evolving into something entirely bigger. “He doesn’t drink human blood, Trace, and definitely not Slayer blood.” I shook my head as a sinking feeling pressed over my heart. “What was I even thinking? What if this completely messes him up? What if he ends up with uncontrollable bloodlust?” Just the thought of hurting Gabriel sent my stomach into a plummeting nosedive.

  “He’s strong, Jemma. He’s been able to resist his bloodlust for years. That kind of self-control doesn’t just disappear because of one taste.”

  I silently prayed he was right, I did, but I couldn’t help but remember what Dominic had said about Slayer blood. It was the filet mignon of meat, the cream of the crop, an elixir of the finest, most decadent blood there was, and it was enough to drive a low-level vampire absolutely mad in the hopes of getting just one taste of it.

  In fact, I’d seen it more times than I could count while I hunted over the summer with Tessa. One whiff of my blood was all they needed to come running like a bunch of brainless moths to a flame. Even Dominic who had years of experience feeding off humans had a hard time controlling himself in the beginning. What kind of chance did Gabriel have when all he’d allowed himself was animal blood, and only enough to get by?

  This was bad. So very bad.

  The longer we waited, the more I began to wonder whether Gabriel was even going to come back, or if he was already halfway to the closest packed joint in town with voracious, bloodlust-filled eyes and no one to answer to?

  Had I unwittingly just doomed this town to not one but two ravenous Huntington brothers…

  18. BETTER NOW

  The minutes ticked by languidly as though they were in no hurry to move this thing along. I, on the other hand, was pacing the cellar like a caged lion—with one foot still shackled since I refused to stand still long enough to let Trace uncuff me. The pain from Dominic’s compulsion was back and while it wasn’t as brutal as it was before Trace had arrived here, it certainly wasn’t as bearable as when I’d been standing with his arms around me.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t stand still, not even to save my own ass from a world of pain.

  “Where is he? It’s been over twenty minutes,” I said without bothering to wait for an answer. “Call Ben again.”

  Trace nodded and pulled out his phone, once again dialing Ben’s number, and once again, it went to voicemail.

  Visions of Ben laying on the floor upstairs with his neck ripped open slammed into my mind.

  “Something’s not right. We need to go up there.”

  “I’m sure he’s just sleeping,” answered Trace as he grabbed my waist to stop me from pacing.

  “No one can sleep that deep,” I said and then gave him a doubtful look.

  “You’d be surprised.” Dropping on bended knee, he pulled out the last key and then worked it into the keyhole before pausing to peer up at me. “If you try to run to him—”

  “I won’t…just…please stay close to me.” As much as Dominic’s compulsion continued to run rampant through my head, it wasn’t all-consuming anymore, so long as Trace was close enough to keep the unrelenting pain at bay.

  And that was the way I intended to keep it.

  He nodded and then unlocked the final chain before straightening to his full height. Picking up my hand, the two of us barreled out of the cellar and straight through the basement, pausing only when we got to the bottom of the stairs. Trace took the lead as I trailed closely behind him with our hands interlocked like our lives depended on it.

  Our footsteps were careful and quiet, unsure of what we were going to find upstairs once we opened that basement door, but my heart was the polar opposite, pounding so loudly in my chest that I could hear it between my ears.

  Upon reaching the top and final step, Trace signaled with his finger for me to stay quiet as he slowly turned the handle and cracked the door open.

  Do you see anything? I asked in my mind.

  Trace shook his head and then stepped into the house. I followed him inside, half expecting to see blood smeared all over the walls and floors. So far so good, I thought but I knew we had plenty of house left to cover.

  We walked stealthily from the corridor to the main kitchen, then to the dining area and finally to the living room where we found Ben laying on the couch. His arm was hanging over the edge as though he were unconscious. I shrieked and immediately tried to run to his side, but Trace quickly yanked me back.

  The look in his eyes told me we needed to be careful in case Gabriel was still in the house.

  A million gruesome images flashed through my mind as we tiptoed our way to Ben. Another funeral. Another buried friend. More blood on my hands. When would it ever end?

  “What is she doing out of the cellar?” The gritty sound of Gabriel’s voice from over my shoulder made me scream over Ben as though someone were murdering us.

  “What is it? Who’s there? What’s going on?!” bellowed Ben as he jumped up from the couch still half-asleep as he attempted to wipe away the semi-dried drool from his cheek.

  I folded over, bracing my hands on my knees for support as I caught my breath, relieved that Ben was not dead and had only been sleeping. My relief was short lived though as I whirled around and faced Gabriel.

  “What the hell did you do?” I accused, my finger pointed at him as my eyes ran up and down his body, looking for signs of a bloody massacre. Everything seemed more or less in order, apart from his hair which looked slightly disheveled.

  “I beg your pardon?” asked Gabriel, his eyes jumping from me to Trace and then back again.

  Trace squeezed my hand in an attempt to calm my inner neurosis right the hell down. “What she means to say is, what happened to you? She was worried.”

  “I apologize,” he said, dropping his eyes briefly. “That was far more difficult than I’d anticipated. I needed to… get away for a few minutes to bring myself back to reality.” Gabriel squared his shoulders though I could see the anguish and disdain in his eyes. It was written all over his face.

  “You didn’t…do anything stupid, did you?” I asked, because, well I had to ask.

  He shook his head. “No. Of course not. I made sure to keep myself very far from people.”

  Of course, he did. Because he was Gabriel. Gabriel would never hurt anyone, especially not an innocent—intentional or otherwise. I don’t know why I ever doubted him in the first place.

  Relief poured over me like the healing rain. “Are you okay now?” I asked, genuinely concerned for my friend.

  He nodded. “Yes. I think I’ve managed to get it under control.”

  More relief. He was going to be just fine.

  “Great, so can we get on with phase two now?” asked Trace, looking as though he were ready to get
this entire day over and done with.

  “Yes. I’m ready when you are,” answered Gabriel, his eyes fixed on me now.

  “And I’m super pumped for you all,” said Ben through a yawn as he plopped back onto the sofa. “I don’t know what phase two is but can you do it in the kitchen? My mother will murder me in my sleep if you get blood on her wool carpet.”

  “Right. Going now,” I called out as we shuffled toward his kitchen. “And again, I’m really sorry about all this. I’m going to make it up to you!”

  Either Ben hadn’t heard me, or he’d already drifted back to sleep.

  Upon entering the gorgeous Victorian space, I let go of Trace’s hand and walked over to Gabriel as he stood beside the wooden kitchen table. Without the shackles on, the urge to turn on my heel and make a run for the door was still right there in the back of my mind, but luckily Trace was staying close enough to calm the itch I refused to scratch.

  Gabriel’s gaze darted from me to Trace and then back again. “Same as last time?” he asked, a hint of nervousness still riding his voice.

  I responded with a quick nod of my head and then watched as his fangs clicked out. Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he bit down against the thin skin and pierced two small holes with his teeth before extending his wrist to me. My heart leapt up into my throat as my body readied itself for the thing it wanted most these days. The thing it craved.

  Vampire blood.

  Two plumes of red bloomed against his pale skin as I wrapped my fingers around his hand and pulled his wrist toward my mouth. The sound of Trace’s feet shuffling behind me barely registered as I closed my mouth around the wound and sucked. The throbbing, scratching pain inside my skull immediately began to ease as I swallowed my first mouth full. Excitement at the prospect of a cure from this horrible nightmare thrummed over my skin and I bit down harder.

  The longer I drank from him, the more alive I felt inside. It was as though something magical was emanating through my pores, as though my lungs were breathing air for the first time. Every swallow made me feel stronger; made my heartbeat louder; made my ears hear better. And the pain. The pain was dissipating into nothingness…

  “I think that’s more than enough,” said Trace from somewhere over my shoulder.

  “Just give her another minute,” gritted Gabriel, my savior—my angel of mercy. His voice sounded off, like it was working hard not to quiver and shake. Like he was enjoying it almost as much as I was.

  Gabriel plopped back onto the edge of the table, taking me with him as the wood protested from his sudden weight. I moved with him willingly, refusing to tear my mouth away from this magical fountain of life. With one hand still wrapped around his wrist, my fingernails dug into his flesh as my other hand moved to his chest, fisting his t-shirt as I tried to pull him closer to me.

  A quiet rumble sounded at the back of Gabriel’s throat as his own hand came up to my waist and drew me toward his body. It was barely noticeable to the naked eye, but I felt every touch and movement between us as though an invisible band had suddenly strung up between us.

  “Okay, that’s enough!” shouted Trace as he knocked Gabriel’s hand away and then plucked me off him.

  Gabriel winced as my teeth scraped his skin, desperate to hold on, before Trace dragged me to the other side of the kitchen and tucked me in against him. As disappointed as I was, I couldn’t even be mad. I felt like I was floating two feet off the ground; like my blood had just been infused with some kind of magic tonic that made my body defy the basic laws of physics.

  And the pain from the compulsion? Gone.

  “Oh, my god, it worked!” I said as I pulled in a cleansing breath and then met Gabriel’s eyes.

  My heart jumped against my ribcage as I noted his chest rising and falling quickly and his white-knuckle grip on the edge of the table he was still leaning on.

  “Shit. I took too much,” I realized aloud, wanting to kick myself for having no restraint when it came to Revenant blood. Why did I always do this? What the hell was wrong with me anyway? “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I didn’t mean to,” I said as I rushed over to his side, kneeling before him to get a better look at his face.

  “You needed it more than I did,” he said and tried for a smile. “I’ll be better soon. No harm done.”

  Typical Gabriel, always so gracious and giving. Even with the blood in his own damn veins.

  “Get me a knife,” I called back to Trace, knowing that I could at least make this a little better on him.

  “No!” said Gabriel and Trace at the same time.

  I rolled my eyes at their dramatics. “I wasn’t going to bleed myself dry,” I said and then met Gabriel’s eyes. “Just a little bit to help you feel better. I really don’t mind.”

  Gabriel shook his head, albeit weakly. “We can’t risk creating another bloodbond.”

  “It doesn’t work that fast,” I pointed out, remembering how slow and steady it had been with Dominic. “But I get what you’re saying. I nodded, knowing it wasn’t worth the risk, but still feeling horrible about leaving him in this state.

  “He’ll be fine, Jemma. I’m sure he has, you know, food or whatever at his place.” Trace stepped behind me and gently pulled me back into a standing position. “We should go.”

  “We can’t just leave him like this. There’s no way he can drive in this condition.”

  Trace furrowed his brows as he looked him over and then nodded. “I’ll port you home. Show me your place,” he said and then touched Gabriel’s shoulder. He immediately yanked his hand back as if he’d just been burned by him and then fixed him with a weird look. “Jemma get your stuff ready. I’ll be back in two minutes.” And with that, he touched Gabriel again and the two of them disappeared from the kitchen.

  I let out a noisy sigh and then walked back out to the living room in search of Ben. He was passed out on the plush, luxurious couch with an old episode of Unsolved Mysteries playing on the television. Craning my head to get a better view, I noted how sweet and peaceful he looked when he slept and then grabbed the throw blanket from the headrest and spread it over him.

  Poor guy. He’d taken such a beating when we’d lost Taylor. It was so obvious to anyone with eyes that he had been madly in love with her. I imagined he carried a heart full of blame around with him every day of his life. Blame for not telling her how he really felt. Blame for not being able to save her when it mattered most.

  I wasn’t the only who had lost my way that faithful night. He’d lost everything too.

  “You ready to go?” asked Trace from the entrance, his voice startling me as I stared at Ben, probably looking like some kind of weirdo freak that liked to watch people sleep.

  I turned and met those fiercely loving eyes of his, and all of my worry disappeared. “I’m ready,” I said as I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. And with that, we were gone.

  19. NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY

  We materialized back in Trace’s scantily lit bedroom with my arms still wrapped snuggly around his waist and my cheek resting comfortably against his chest. It felt so good to finally be out of pain, and with our soulmate bond trilling steadily between, it was as close to perfect as I’d gotten in months.

  “Thank you for everything you did tonight,” I said, still pressed up against him and in no hurry to move away.

  “You know I’d do anything for you, Jemma.” His arms encircled me with their warmth as his fingers traced little circles against the small of my back.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I needed to pull away from him. To put that wall back up and that space between us, but I couldn’t seem to dig up the will to do it. And after the night I’d just went through, I figured I deserved some good vibrations. At least for a little while longer.

  “Good vibrations?” Trace chuckled, the sound of it deep and rumbly against my ear.

  My cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. I slowly pulled away from his chest and squinted up at him. His eyes were filled with amu
sement and his dimples were digging in and out of his cheeks as he tried to stifle his laugh.

  “I thought I told you to stop listening in?” I said, trying to take the heat off myself.

  “It’s not my fault,” he said and took a step back, smirking. “I was born this way.”

  I smacked him in the chest and buried my own smile. Freaking goofball.

  “You hungry?” he asked as he turned on the desk lamp.

  “Starving.” I sat down on the edge of his bed and flopped backward, sprawling both arms out as I closed my eyes. It was nice to have just a moment of peace without any worry or pain. Of course, I knew it was as fleeting as the wind, but I was enjoying it while it lasted.

  With happy thoughts and contentedness swirling around in my brain, the room fell silent. I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by before I realized Trace had stopped talking and shuffling around the room. I peeked out from the corner of my eye and found him leaning against his desk, staring at me. His arms were crossed, and his expression was unreadable, but he looked every bit the Adonis that he always was.

  “What are you staring at?” Feeling self-conscious, I perked up on the bed and gave myself a quick once over for any blaring anomalies. Everything seemed in order.

  “You,” he answered without missing a beat.

  The room temperature seemed to be climbing again. “Do I have something on my face?” I asked as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and then wiped under my eyes, hoping to god I didn’t have mascara dripping down my face or blood smeared under my lip, because I was totally that kind of girl.

  He smirked. “No.”

  “Then why are you staring at me like that?” I asked, half laughing, half flustered.

  “Because you’re gorgeous and it’s hard not to stare at you,” he answered plainly, though the intensity in his eyes made my heart miss an entire beat.