Read Inception (The Marked Book 1) Online
Authors: Bianca Scardoni
Inception (The Marked Book 1) (28 page)
I awoke sometime later in Trace’s arms. Warm, humming arms that wrapped around my shoulders like a lullaby. I was amazed at how good they felt there. Like they belonged there. Like we were always meant to be this way—or had been this way before—me and him, two hearts beating as one.
“Sleep well?” he asked, voice strained.
How did he know I was up?
Oh, gawd
, had he heard my rambling thoughts again? Panicked, I immediately tried to pull myself away from him.
He tightened his hold on me, keeping me pressed against him. “Careful,” he warned. “I’m injured, remember?” I could hear the smile in his words.
“Sorry,” I frowned, peering up at him under my lashes. “I don’t know how I got over here.”
“I guess you just liked it better on this side.” The deep whisper of his voice sent a molten shiver down my back.
This was bad.
Must. Detach. Now
.
“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” I said, stumbling to find a safe spot to place my hand for liftoff support. “I’m pretty much delirious from the moment I wake up until I have a shot of caffeine or something so, you know, anything I say or
think
until that point should really just be ignored.” I settled for his thigh and gently pushed myself off of his taut (though surprisingly comfortable) body.
His cheek hitched up on one side, revealing his dimple.
“Did Gabriel call?” I asked, discreetly smoothing out my disheveled hair as I tried to change the subject. This was beyond embarrassing.
He pursed his lips, rocking his head side to side.
“What time is it anyway?” I’d noted the sun had already set and figured Gabriel was probably on his way, but I wanted to be sure. The truth was, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take being alone with Trace like this. Apparently I couldn’t keep myself off of him. Even in my sleep.
“Almost ten,” he said, spreading his arm against the back of the couch as he kicked out his legs in front of him. There was something wildly enticing about the way his body untwined.
“Great,” I croaked, hugging myself as I glanced around the room looking for something to distract my eyes with. Coming up empty, I turned back to Trace and found his eyes were still on me, watching me thoughtfully. The butterflies ignited again. “So how about that math test?” I asked out of nowhere.
He cracked a smile but didn’t bother entertaining my idiotic attempt at a conversation. Thank God because I really didn’t want to talk about math, or tests, or anything school-related for that matter. What I really wanted to do was—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A series of hard knocks erupted at the front door causing me to catapult myself off the couch as if I’d been caught doing something naughty. Trace, obviously amused by this, made no attempt to stifle his laughter, even as I speared him with contempt all the way to the front entrance.
He peeked through the window before unlocking the door. “It’s our friendly neighborhood vampire,” he informed and then swung the front door open in a gust.
Gabriel stood on the other side of the threshold wearing his black leather jacket and a worried expression. He looked as though he was working hard to hold it all together.
“Are you alright?” he asked, tipping his head as if to scan my face for injuries or signs of distress.
I stepped outside and gave him a quick hug. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming.” I pulled back and motioned for him to come in.
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head as he glanced over my shoulder to Trace. “He needs to invite me in.”
I turned to Trace expectantly, but he just stood there, stone-faced with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Trace!”
It felt like an eternity before he spoke.
“Come in,” he finally said, though it sounded a lot more like a dare than a welcome.
Two wax candles burned leisurely on the coffee table as the three of us convened in the living room. Gabriel sat firm on the armchair while Trace and I took our previous spots on the sofa with a bundled blanket sandwiched between us, courtesy of me. There was a stretch of awkward silence before Gabriel took the lead and began compiling information about what had gone down today. Unfortunately, we were nowhere closer to figuring out who was behind the attack though Engel and his men were definitely at the top of everyone’s suspect list.
“So if he’s behind this, what’s the plan now that they’ve made Jemma?” asked Trace.
“Tessa reached out to them already,” answered Gabriel. “She let them know she’s interested in dealing. That should put them back on track for now. The next step is to track her tails and see how many men are on her.”
“So they still think Tessa has the Amulet?” verified Trace.
“They have no reason not to,” answered Gabriel. “The focus is back on her, which is what we want. As long as they believe Tessa’s interested in making a deal with them, it should give them enough incentive to back off of Jemma.”
“
Should
?” Trace and I repeated at the same time.
He nodded, regretful. “There’s no way to know what their next move will be, but at least we know what they’re after. It’s easier to control the outcome this way. Until this thing is over, you’re simply going to have to lay low for a while,” he said, his eyes regretful. “I know this isn’t what you want, but that means certain conditions for you, Jemma.”
“Like what?” I gulped.
“Curfew. School and back. And never alone. I’ll stand watch throughout the night and maybe Trace can keep an eye out during the day when I can’t be there. Tessa was adamant about this, and I must say, I fully agree with her.”
My head was spinning. I needed permanent chaperones now? And Trace of all people? He didn’t want to get close to me, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be involved in vampire business.
“Trace can’t do it,” I said shaking my head. “Maybe we can ask Julian or one of Tessa’s—”
“I’ll do it,” said Trace, speaking over me. His eyes locked in on mine. They looked so determined—almost feral. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”
A slash of heat tore through my body.
“Then it’s settled,” nodded Gabriel, content.
“Great,” agreed Trace.
Apparently, I was the only who thought this had all kinds of bad written all over it.
Trace was outside my house early the next morning under the pretense of driving me to school. It was only after I climbed into his Mustang that he informed me we were actually ditching school and going to his house instead.
I made zero protests.
The rain came down like axes, making it hard to see anything, though I immediately recognized the gated community as Caleb and Carly’s and was surprised to find that Trace lived just a few houses down from them. Where the Owens’ house was all glass and pallor, Trace’s house was the polar opposite; a stunning dark-stone mansion with wood finishing and a decadent porch that wrapped around the house like a ribbon.
Inside, the foyer opened to a vaulted living Room with high beamed ceilings and limestone floors that stretched to what seemed like the ends of the earth. As breathtaking as it was, the chill was unmistakable. The house felt empty—jarringly so. Not of furniture but of something else; of family, of life. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
We left our shoes in the mudroom and went up to the second floor where Trace ushered us into his bedroom. With my back pasted against the door, I scanned the expansive room, taking in the mahogany furniture, the blue walls, the large double bed to the right and matching navy comforter. I noticed a small desk on the adjacent wall-unit and couldn’t help but smile to myself as I tried to imagine Trace sitting there doing his Math homework.
Everything seemed nice, and tidy, and smelled
good
; the remnants of a spicy cologne I already knew and loved.
“You can come in all the way,” he said, pulling out the desk chair like a ligneous invitation. “I don’t bite.”
“I know that.” My heart was beating so fast I thought I might pass out if I got any closer to him. “So what’s the plan for today?” I asked instead, still not budging from the door.
His dimples flickered as he pressed his lips together. He moved to the edge of his bed and slumped down onto it. “I take you to go see your dad. That is what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s what I want.”
Desperately
.
“Okay.” His eyes traveled down the length of my body. “Did you bring a change of clothes or were you planning on seeing him in your Weston uniform?”
“I have other clothes in my bag,” I croaked, my throat already dry as chalk. I hated the way he disrupted my normal bodily functions without even trying.
His eyes climbed back up in no hurry. “You can change in here,” he said and then instantly appeared in front of me, making my heart flutter. Flattening his palm against the door, he leaned into me, reaching. His mouth hovering around my ear, my neck, dizzying me with its nearness.
Every cell in my body stilled. I was afraid to move or speak or God forbid inhale his heavenly scent and truly lose all control over my limbs.
He turned the door knob and tugged the door open behind me, causing me to lurch forward into him. Thigh to thigh, you couldn’t slide a piece of paper between us, we were that close. And holy smokes, I needed an icepack.
He looked down at me for what felt like an eternity, his jaw hard at work as our nearness charged the air around us. I could feel my body humming—vibrating from the heat of his body pressed up against mine. His head tilted towards me, inching closer as though he were going to kiss me, and I held my breath, curious to know if his lips felt as soft as they looked.
He stopped abruptly and steeled his gaze. Before I could assemble another thought, his arm dropped from the door, freeing me from his cage. It was over before it even began.
I slid away gingerly and watched as he exited the room in silence.
Needing a moment to catch my breath, I staggered to the chair and sat down. I couldn’t figure out how he caused my entire body to go haywire with nothing more than his proximity. I swore to myself that the next time he broke into my personal space like that, or played those damn hot-and-cold games with me, I would give him a real piece of my mind. Or something. Who did he think he was anyway?
I quickly changed into a pair of skinny jeans and my favorite V-neck tee before letting him back into his room. My arms were crossed and my guard was up. Though, they both faltered as soon as I noted the unnerving look on his face.
“There’s a couple of things we need to talk about before we do this,” he said as he walked over to his dresser. He picked up his silver watch and swapped it with the one he was wearing.
I sat back down in the chair and rubbed my palms against my jeans. “Let’s hear it.”
“There’s a reason the Council doesn’t let us travel back without their consent,” he said, taking a seat on his bed just across the way from me. He leaned forward on his elbows. “The temptation to change things can be...overwhelming.”
I could understand that—heck, it was one of the reasons I wanted to go back—but I stayed silent, hands folded in my lap like a good little girl.
“The problem is that even the smallest change can open up a
Ripple
.” He gave me a meaningful look. “And believe me when I say, you don’t want that to happen.”
“Why not?” I wasn’t even sure what it was.
He paused before answering. “Say you go back to the day your father died and you decide to warn him about what’s going to happen—”
Sounded like a perfect plan.
“—you’d inadvertently be setting off a
butterfly effect
. Chances are he’ll accept that Death is coming regardless of your warning because he’s Anakim, but before he goes, maybe this time he prepares his final wishes for you. Maybe he decides that you should go stay with a distant cousin or an old friend. Maybe you never end up coming to Hollow Hills and you never meet me—we never make the trip. How do you then get back to the present now that you’ve erased it?” His eyes were sharp, focused. “That’s a Ripple. Even a small Ripple could destroy everything.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I need to hear you promise me you won’t do anything stupid. That you’ll leave the past exactly as you found it because as far as your dad’s concerned, it’s just another day. Can you handle that?”
I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to see my father and not warn him about the attack—about what was going to happen.
“Jemma?”
I had no other options. My hands were tied. “I promise,” I said, tasting the bitterness the words left in my mouth.
He rose from the bed and walked over to me. “If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to talk to him. We can keep our distance.” He held out his hand and I took it easily. “I’ll still take you to see him.”
“I need to be able to talk to him…to
hug
him.” My eyes welled up at the thought of being able to feel my father’s embrace again after so many months. Something I never even allowed myself to dream of.
“I understand.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb grazing my cheek as he wiped away a lone tear that had fallen.
The gesture made my knees and heart tremble.
“When you’re ready to go, just start thinking about the day you want to go back to,” he instructed, soothing me with the deep whisper of his voice.
“Any day I want?”
“Any day.” His dimples pressed in as he hedged a smile. “Just make sure it’s not too far in the past if you plan on talking to him. And make sure the
Jemma
from the past isn’t around either,” he added, deepening his smile as though he would have enjoyed the doppelganger run-in.
“Got it.” I rubbed my palms against my jeans. “And then what happens?”
“And then I put my arms around you and read your thoughts. I need to
see
the place in order to get us there so I’ll have to lift the memories from your mind.”
“Okay.”
He took my hand and pulled me in closer to him.
As soon as his arms were wrapped around me, I shut my eyes and began sifting through my memories, searching for a good day to revisit—the perfect day—and settled on the morning of my dad’s very last birthday. I remembered it as if it were yesterday. Our house, the molten sun shining, the bear hug I gave him before leaving to catch my bus. Every moment was still vivid in my mind, and it was Trace’s for the taking.
The cold quickly flooded my body like an arctic blast, and with that, we were in Hollow Hills no more.