Inception (The Marked Book 1) (27 page)

“No more messing around!” I ordered.

He nodded solemnly as though he had every intention of obeying my orders. After a brief pause, he craned his head to me, filling up the air with his all-consuming presence. “You know, you’re nothing like what I expected.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” he said, wetting his lips. “Something else. You’re…
different
.”

Different
? I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean
I’m
different
?”

He seemed amused by my outrage.   

“You’re the one who’s different from one day to the next!” I shot back unable to hide my indignity. Frankly, it was a little hard to take coming from
him
. I’d yet to meet a moodier guy than Trace Macarthur.

The whites of his eyes flashed. “I meant it as a compliment.”

“Oh.” My cheeks reddened. “So did I.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I just meant that you’re difficult to read sometimes. Some days it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me, or at least that’s what you tell me. And then other times, I think…I don’t know, something else. It’s hard to keep up.”

He lowered his head. “I know.”

“So why are you like this with me?” I pushed, unsatisfied with his response. “Why do you talk to me and sit next to me and offer to take me to see my dad after you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me?”

“Can’t people change their minds?”

“I guess they can,” I shrugged, struggling to keep my hands from shaking as I needled another stitch into his side. “It just seemed like there was something more behind it.”

“There was.”

“And now?” I looked up at him wanting to read him like a book; to know him and all of his secrets.

“And now I’m having a hard time remembering what it was.” There was something incredibly moving about the way he looked at me, about the way he let me see him—
really
see him. Even if it was only for a moment.

“So then...” I paused, swallowing the mounting butterflies. “What does this mean exactly?”

“Does it have to
mean
anything? Can’t I just sit next to you if I want to sit next to you?” He reached forward and gently moved a strand of hair away from my eyes.

My heart pounded in my chest as I tried not to get lost in those spellbinding pools of blue.

“Am I distracting you again?” he smiled.

Unable to deny it out loud and keep a straight face, I rolled my eyes at him in an effort to appear flippant. I heard him chuckle softly, but I didn’t meet his eyes this time.

“So how about you tell me who you think is behind this? Would be nice to know why I took a knife to the stomach.”

“I’m not sure,” I started, unsure of where to go with it.

“But you have a theory.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think it might have to do with my sister, Tessa.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched me—studied me. “What makes you think that?”

“She’s in trouble,” I explained, eyes lowered. “I can’t tell you much about it because I don’t really know the details myself. Just that there’s these Revs after her, dangerous ones, and since we met up last night, I just thought it might be related—”

“Tessa was in town?” he cut in, his interest peaked.

“Yeah, not for long though. She came to see me—to warn me about what was going on.”

He nodded, taking it in. “So you’re thinking these Rev’s followed her last night and saw you with her? That they’re trying to use you to get to her now?”

“Maybe.” I tried to read his expression, but he gave nothing away. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Rev’s don’t usually go through all this trouble. They must really want something from her.”

I swallowed hard, afraid to think of what they would do to me if they found out
I
was the one who had the Amulet now and not her. I was way out of my league with this—

“The Amulet?” Trace’s dark brows pulled together as he covered my hand with his, stopping my movements. “What do you mean you have the Amulet?”

Shit
. I yanked my hand back. “Dammit, Trace!”

“Jemma—”

“You have no right to eavesdrop on my private thoughts!” I shouted, fumbling to come up with a plausible diversion. “You’re...you’re misconstruing everything I’m thinking!”

“I’m not misconstruing anything,” he asserted. “I heard you, Jemma. You said you had the Amulet. What Amulet? The one my sister was looking for? The Immortal Amulet?”

Double shit
. I had no idea what to do or how to answer him. Tessa didn’t prepare me for this. She didn’t tell me what to do if I accidentally blew my cover telepathically announcing my possession of the Amulet to someone who could read minds. She just didn’t prepare me for any of this!

God, it was all her fault!

“Answer me!”

“Look,” I said, deciding to do the only thing I knew how to do—lie. “I don’t know anything about a
moral
Amulet, so whatever you think you heard, you’re wrong.”

“You’re lying.” His eyes burned holes into my soul. “You’re lying to me and you’re not even doing a good job of it.”

“You’re the liar! You’re the one who lied about everything, about who you were, about—”

“Don’t try to turn this around on me.” He tipped forward, his stance both authoritative and intimidating all at once. “Linley died for that Amulet. Do you have any idea what she went through trying to get it?” His eyes glistened with a blinding rage. “What I went through trying to find it for her?”

“I...” I dropped my eyes. I couldn’t bear to look at him like this, to face him and lie to him again. I felt as though my heart were splintering into a million little pieces.

“Look at me, Jemma.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to lie to you, Trace.”

“Then don’t.”

I pressed my lips together, forcing the silence.

“Alright.” He leaned back, the body armor that had begun to dissolve seemed as though it were shifting back into place, closing him off from the rest of the world again—from me. “Just tell me one thing then,” he said, defeated. “Was it the Council? Were they the ones who gave you the Amulet?”

I didn’t know what to do. If I answered his question, I would be admitting to him that I did in fact have the Amulet. Then again, he pretty much already knew that.

“Please, Jemma.” A tired breath escaped, jagged and slow. “I need to know if they gave you the Amulet.”

“Why does that matter?” I wondered, buying myself time.

“Because it does,” he said, heated. “It matters if they knew where it was and lied to me about it...if they knew all along and let my sister die anyway. It matters to
me
.”

Suddenly it made sense why he left the Order. Why he had such animosity towards them. He
blamed
them. He thought they knew how to save Linley and refused to do it. That they fed her to the Revs without so much as a second thought.

I shook my head in response.  

“No it didn’t come from them or no you won’t answer me?” The muscles in his jaw popped as he watched me squirm under his penetrating stare.

He looked so angry with me, so disappointed. It was damn near intolerable. After everything we’d gone through, after all the times he came to my rescue, I couldn’t bear to sit here and lie to him. Not about this. Not about something this important to him.

“The Council doesn’t know anything about it,” I said, meeting his disparaged eyes. “They weren't the ones who gave it to me. Tessa was.”

33. ATONEMENT

Silence wrapped itself around us like the familiar embrace of an old friend. Neither one of us spoke, though in the dim light of the cabin, I thought I saw something telling flicker through his eyes. Something vulnerable—grateful—and I found myself wanting to reach forward to touch him. To swipe away the ebony strand of hair from his eyes. But I didn’t dare move.

He broke the ice first. “Do you think you can finish this for me?” He motioned to his partial stitches.

I nodded and scooted in closer.

“Are you wearin
g
it now?” he asked when I started up again, his baritone voice barely above a whisper. “Is that why you don’t have a scratch on you?”

“Tessa said it has some sort of protective power.”

“How long?”

I wasn’t sure if he wanted to know how long I’ve been wearing it or how long my sister’s had it—

“Both,” he answered before I could ask the question aloud.

“Less than a day for me. Three months for Tessa.”

I went on to tell him about Engel and his men; about how Tessa’s been on the run from them for the last few months and wanted out of whatever mess she was in. He listened intently as I relayed what little information I had and filled him in on Tessa and Gabriel’s plan.

“And what about you?” he asked casually. “Where are you going to be when this ambush goes down?”

“As far away as possible,” I said, finishing up the last stitch.

“Good,” he answered absentmindedly.

“
Good
?”

“You have no business being there. You’re not even almost ready for that.”

“How would you know?” I fired back. He was right, but that was beside the point. “When was the last time you saw me train? That’s right,
never
. And wasn’t I holding my own today? Didn’t I knock out Blondie all by myself?”

“Yeah you did.” He smirked as though he were enjoying the memory. “But they were Runners, Jemma. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever. Fine.” I couldn’t argue the point. “It’s not like I want to run off and battle a bunch of vampires anyway. Home is exactly where I want to be when all of this goes down.” I only wished Tessa and Gabriel could be there, too. That we all could be safe from the darkness that haunted us like a plague.

“No desire to battle vampires?” His tone was marred in disbelief. “That’s a joke, right? Because you won’t have much of a choice once they break the spell.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not the only one that can’t sense them. They can’t sense you either. It’s a two way street. Once you remove the Cloak, they’ll be drawn to you again. You’ll be fighting them whether you want to or not.” He stared at me intensely before his expression softened with what looked like pity. “They didn’t tell you that part, did they?”

There was that feeling of dread again. “No, they didn’t.” I definitely would have remembered hearing something like that.

“Why am I not surprised,” muttered Trace.

I couldn’t help but wonder what this all meant for me. Would they be able to sense me the same way I was going to sense them? And what did he mean when he said they’d be drawn to me? Would there be a pull? A connection? Would they seek me out in a crowd of people?

“It’s not too late you know.”

“To do what?” I asked rhetorically. “Keep the only defense I have against them suppressed? I’m not even sure that’s a possibility anymore,” I sighed, frustrated by my lack of information and control over the situation. “And besides, where would that leave me? If I break the spell, at least I’ll see them coming, right? I’ll have a fighting chance.”

And more importantly, I’ll know who to stay away from and which direction to run. It was the lesser of two evils and we both knew it, but then why was he looking at me that way? Like it mattered to him. Like
I
mattered to him.

“What’s it to you anyway?” I challenged. “If I didn’t know any better, I might actually think you cared about me.” It was only when I said the words aloud that I realized I wanted them to be true. I wanted him to care about me
that
way.

The muscles in his jaw started working again. “It’s a good thing you know better then,” he said without meeting my eyes.

Yeah, good thing
, I sighed. At least he stopped acting like I was the Black Plague. It was a step in the right direction.

I opened the first aid kit and pulled out some antibiotic ointment and non-stick bandages to dress the stitches with. “So? How do they look?”

He tilted his head to the side and examined my work. “Not bad actually,” he remarked, genuine surprise in his tone. “Looks like the scar won’t be that bad either.”

“It’s kind of cool if you think about it.”

“What is?”

“You know, that you’ll always have something to remember me by every time you look down at it.”

Something in his expression changed—darkened.

“You know, in case you forget me when I’m gone,” I added, kicking the joke like a dead horse.

“I wouldn’t forget you,” he said under his breath.

“Because of all the grief I’ve caused you.” No doubt.

“No.” His jaw set in a hard line. “Because you’re not really the kind of girl a guy can forget, Jemma.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but it did strange fuzzy things to my insides.

After finishing up his bandages, Trace put his shirt back on and headed outside to check the area and make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, though he seemed fairly certain we’d be safe here. At least for now. While he was gone, I pulled out my cell phone and checked for service again in the hopes that I could reach Henry and find out exactly what happened to him today. Unfortunately, my bars kept flicking in and out every twenty seconds making the task a lot harder than need be.

“Who are you calling now?” asked Trace when he returned a few minutes later. He looked annoyed as he locked the door behind him and began closing all the curtains.

The room darkened with each swoosh.

“I’m trying to reach Henry,” I said, my eyes following him around the room. “He was supposed to pick me up after detention but he never showed up. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“That’s my fault,” he said and then flopped down on the sofa beside me, draping his arm around the back. “I saw him waiting for you after school and told him I’d give you a lift.”

I stared at him, surprised that he volunteered himself.

“I was going that way anyway,” he muttered with a tinge of defensiveness.

“Thanks, I guess. What about work? Aren’t they going to be worried that we didn't show up?”

“I took care of it already.” His hard eyes moved to me, softening as he looked me over. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat or drink?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I could handle any food right now. My stomach’s still in knots,” I said, hugging my arms for warmth. I swear it felt as though I’d developed a permanent case of the chills ever since I moved to this godforsaken town.

He pulled the throw blanket from the armrest and tossed it over to me.

I thanked him and spread the blanket around myself. “You want to share?” I asked, offering him a corner.

He shook his head and sunk deeper into the couch. His eyes quickly slid shut as though he were trying to shut out the world around him. As though they were the gatekeepers to a place he didn’t want me entering.

Seconds turned to minutes.

I really didn’t want to watch him sleep and yet I couldn’t look away. He looked so peaceful like this. Vulnerable. Not at all like the powerful, guarded being I knew him to be. The kind of being who could make dreams come true and open up doors to worlds I never even knew existed. Like this, he was just another boy. Just a beautiful sleeping boy.

“What?” He quirked an eye open, catching me.

“Nothing,” I shook my head nervously, hoping he didn’t suspect I’d been watching him this whole time. I pulled my knees up to my chest. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Both his eyes were open now, studying me like a treasure map.

“About tomorrow.” I shrugged because it wasn’t a
complete
lie. “You’re still taking me to see my dad, right? You didn’t change your mind or anything?”

“Why would I change my mind?”

“I don’t know…with everything that’s happened today, I was worried you’d think it wasn’t the right time.”

“Actually, we’ll probably be safer in the
past
.”

His strange words resonated as reality set in.

The past was going to come alive tomorrow. It would no longer be just a string of fleeting thoughts and movie reels buried in my gallows of my subconscious. It was a place I could go to. A place I could sink my feet into. A physical reality he was going to make happen for me. I was excited and petrified all at the same time.

“How will it feel seeing him again?” I wondered, knowing he’d been in my shoes before and could provide insight.

“Bittersweet.” His eyes met mine in the dark.

“Bittersweet,” I repeated, trying to accost myself to it, to wrap my mind around the sentiment.

He must have noticed the strange expression on my face because he reached over and took my hand into his.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, lacing our fingers together. “It’ll be okay.”

And in that moment, I really believed him.