Page 53 of Illusory (The Marked Saga #8)

The basement lights flickered riotously above my head as I sailed down the staircase and caught up with Tessa, gaping as she casually dragged our mother’s lifeless body into the makeshift prison cell. Like it was a completely normal thing to be doing at any point in one’s life. Pausing at the center of the cramped space, she dropped Jaqueline’s arms and then stared down at her, catching her breath as she assessed our mother.

“What in the…how did…where…?”

Tessa looked up at me and rolled her eyes. “Pick a question, Jemma.”

“Okay—what in the actual fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she shot back, holding her arms out as though the whole thing were self-explanatory.

I glanced from her to our incapacitated mother and then back again. “It looks like you’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “She’s the one who was holed out in some rathole hive on a blood bender with a bunch of ferals. If anyone lost their mind, it’s her ,” she said, pointing to our unconscious mother, who looked as though she were fast asleep. Albeit extremely pale and slightly decrepit, but asleep, nonetheless. “Trust me, I’m doing her a favor. She needs to sober the hell up.”

“A blood bender?” I whispered, my breath catching as the guys slowly trickled into the basement to witness our latest Mother-Daughter reunion.

“Ah, another resident for the Blackburn reformatory,” remarked Dominic as he casually inspected my mother. He took a sip of his drink, barely flinching a muscle at the scene, as though this was a completely normal thing to be happening. “Nice to see your hard work being put to such good use, angel.”

“Yeah, apparently, we’re all going to get a turn in Cell Block B ,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Why would she do this, Tess? This is so out of character for her.”

Granted, Jaqueline wasn’t the model mother by any stretch of the imagination, but she always ran a tight ship and maintained excellent control over herself. Disappearing for days on end on a blood bender just didn’t seem like something she’d do.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask her when she comes to.” Tessa grabbed Jaqueline’s arm and turned her around so that she was lying with her head towards the bars. “Alright. Clear out.”

With my arms still crossed tightly over my chest, I trailed behind Dominic out of the cramped cage and joined Trace and Gabriel, who were standing a few feet away, observing from a safe distance.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were thinking.

Tessa shut the cell door and locked it, slipping the key into her back pocket. Kneeling, she reached through the bars and wrapped her hand around the wooden stake protruding from our mother’s chest. “You might want to find something else to do,” she warned, adjusting her grip as she scooted in closer. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Like hell . “I want to hear what she has to say for herself.”

Tessa met my eyes over her shoulder, her hand still gripping the stake. “She isn’t going to have anything coherent to say until she’s over the bloodlust. The less people we have staring at her, the easier it’ll be to calm her down and get her back to normal.”

I wasn’t particularly interested in making things easier for Jaqueline, and I was about to tell Tessa as much—until I remembered Trace’s bloodlust during those first few days, and how impossible it was to communicate with him. If this was anything like that, Jaqueline wouldn’t be saying anything coherent for a while. The sooner we sobered her up, the sooner we could get answers.

“Fine, but you’d better call me as soon as she’s straight.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” she said with a curt nod. “Now go.”

* * *

Even though it didn’t feel right leaving Tessa to deal with the impending bloodlust-fueled wrath of our mother, I knew my sister was safe with Jackie behind the spelled bars and with Gabriel watching out for her every step of the way. He would be the voice of reason when needed, and he would have my sister’s back no matter what.

And considering that I wanted to ring Jackie’s neck with my bare hands, I probably wasn’t the best person to handle the job of sobering her up. Better to let calmer heads prevail, lest I take her head right off her neck.

“What a fitting end to my birthday,” I mused, snorting at the irony as I pulled a plate of reheated mac and cheese from the microwave, ready to eat my feelings away.

Clearly, my Cinderella birthday had come to an end, as evidenced by the beautiful pink gown already hanging in my closet. Not wanting it to get ruined, I decided it was probably best to change out of it and get back into my jeans—just in case all hell broke loose with Jaqueline.

“Hey, at least she showed up,” offered Trace as he watched me flick my fork around the plate, waiting for it to cool down enough to stuff into my mouth.

“Right.” I deadpanned. “Because Tessa dragging her incapacitated body back here definitely constitutes as ‘showing up’ for me.”

Trace grimaced but didn’t argue that point. Because how could he?

“I’m sure she has a good reason for her absence,” offered Dominic, pulling out the container of iced tea and pouring me a glass. “Best to let her sober up and explain herself.”

“Oh, I intend to,” I admitted quietly, mostly to myself. “Though I really don’t think there’s anything she could say that would make me hate her less right now.”

As much as I’d kept Jaqueline at arm’s length, forcing myself not to let her into my heart for fear she’d hurt me again, somewhere along the way, she’d slipped in—just a little—and I couldn’t help but feel the sting of disappointment from her latest letdown.

“Her shortcomings are not a reflection of you or what you deserve, angel.” He studied my face, the intensity in his eyes making my pulse race. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“I guess so,” I agreed half-heartedly, “but it still feels that way.” I took a bite of the mac and cheese, savoring the creamy, cheesy goodness that briefly distracted me from the bitter disappointment I felt towards my mother.

As much as I wanted to believe what Dominic had said, it was hard to shake the feeling that somehow, I just wasn’t important enough for Jaqueline to prioritize.

That I didn’t matter enough for her to care.

“You matter, Jemma.” Trace shifted closer, his hand resting on mine in a comforting gesture. “You matter to me . To both of us. No matter what happens with your mom or anyone else, you’ll always matter to us.”

Warmth spread through my chest at his words, but I tried not to let myself drown in it. It was a nice sentiment and all, but feelings changed, and people left all the time—mothers and fathers included. He may have felt that way now, but no one could know what the future held.

“I just thought maybe this time would be different, you know? That maybe she’d actually stick around and be an actual mom for once.”

“I hate to say it, angel, but I think that ship has sailed,” said Dominic regretfully. “She made the choice to stay away from you to protect you a long time ago. She never had the chance to mother you and as difficult as that may be to accept, I don’t think she has the capacity to start doing it nearly two decades later.”

I sighed and took another bite of mac and cheese, letting the warm, comforting flavors melt away the bitter aftertaste his words left in my mouth. I knew he was right. I knew that ship had sailed long ago and that after so many years apart, Jaqueline probably didn’t even know how to be a mother to me.

I knew that but it still didn’t stop me from wishing that it could be different. That she’d want to have that kind of relationship with me and maybe, after all this time, she’d want to get to know me.

I set down my fork, the mac and cheese suddenly feeling heavy in my stomach. “I know it’s stupid, but I guess I just thought that maybe this could be our chance, you know? To start over and try again.” I shook my head, feeling foolish for even entertaining the idea. “But you’re right. Too much time has passed. We can’t go back and redo the last eighteen years.”

“No, you cannot,” agreed Dominic, “but you could build something new with her. Something different. It may not look like what you imagined, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be good in its own way.”

Dominic’s words settled over me, offering a small glimmer of hope amidst the latest mountain of disappointment. Maybe he was right. Maybe Jaqueline and I could find a way to connect, even if it wasn’t in the traditional mother-daughter sense. “So what you’re saying is I need to lower my expectations when it comes to Jaqueline.”

“No. Not lower. Adjust,” he corrected.

“Right.” I took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Adjust.”

Feeling a little less hopeless, I went back to eating and finally finished my mac and cheese mostly in silence as the guys chatted idly beside me. As much as I wanted to stay in the moment and enjoy the peaceful calm with the two people I loved more than anything else in this world, I couldn’t help but worry about what tomorrow would bring.

Jaqueline had been gone for days without even so much as a phone call to let us know that she was alive. I had no idea what she could possibly say that would make that okay, but I promised myself that I’d at least hear her out.

As I set the empty plate in the sink, Trace’s arms wrapped around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “I’m sorry your birthday didn’t turn out the way you hoped,” he murmured, his breath flitting against my ear and making my stomach feel as though I were diving off a cliff with no parachute.

I turned in his arms so that I was facing him, my back pressed against the counter. “Don’t be sorry. It was better than I hoped. Better than anything I could’ve ever wished for.”

“Really?” His dimples deepened as he studied my face, his eyes shifting between mine.

“Really,” I said, meaning it with everything that I was. “What you and Dominic did for me tonight, I’ll never ever forget it.”

He smiled, satisfaction pulling at the corners of his lips. “I hope you know I’d do anything to make you happy.” My gaze drifted to Dominic, still leaning against the kitchen island, watching us, and I knew that Trace meant every word of it. The fact that the three of us were standing together in the room right then was proof of that.

“I know,” I said, meeting Trace’s eyes again and breathing him in like he was the oxygen to my lungs. I knew there was still a whole lot of dark days ahead of me, and that my future was probably bleaker than an eviction notice taped to the door in the middle of February, but somehow, when I was with them, it didn’t feel quite as grim and insurmountable as it was. “I am happy, maybe for the first time in my life, and I know it’s because of you,” I admitted, not wanting to encourage him, but unable to deny the truth.

The words barely left my mouth before his lips were on mine, pressing me back against the counter and leaving not even a sliver of space between our bodies as he claimed my mouth in a desperate kiss that was full of unspoken words and pent-up desire. It was everything I’d been craving and everything I knew I wasn’t supposed to have.

Conscious thought fell by the wayside as my fingers reflexively weaved into the strands of his soft hair and I kissed him back, parting my lips for him as though I were a mere mortal at the altar of my god. Tingles sparked across my skin as his tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine, making my body feel weightless and warm all over.

Trace pulled back suddenly, breaking off the kiss as he glanced at the clock on the stove. “It’s still your birthday for another forty-five minutes,” he pointed out, his voice thick with desire and something else. Something dangerous. Something that made my thighs squeeze together.

“It is,” I agreed, laughing nervously as I met Dominic’s gaze briefly. “And?”

“And we should celebrate.” Trace’s dimples pressed in as he wet his lips.

My stomach clenched at his words, at the sultry look in his eyes. “We just…we already did,” I reminded him as Dominic hopped up to take a seat on the kitchen island, a devious smile curling his mouth as though we were about to put on a show for him in the middle of the kitchen.

Which we definitely were not .

“I have one more thing I want to give you,” he said, his pupils filling up the whole of his irises until nothing but starlight remained. “Will you let me?” he asked, his baritone voice practically rumbling through my bones.

“Okay,” I whispered breathlessly, not even sure what I was agreeing to. Biting down on my lip, my breath hitched as his fingers trailed down from my waist to the hem of my jeans. Flicking open the top button, I caught his wrist and stilled his hand before he could do anything else.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, half panic-stricken, half fascinated.

“I’m giving you my present,” he stated simply, as if it were plain to see.

My stomach somersaulted as Trace slowly lowered himself to his knees, his heated gaze never leaving mine. His hands slid around my hips to grab my ass, pulling me flush against his face. I gasped as he nuzzled against the apex of my thighs, showing me what he intended to do—what he wanted.

“Trace,” I squeaked, my voice tight with nerves and adrenaline. Getting carried away in the morning while bloodsharing was one thing, but this...there would be no coming back after this. Suddenly the implications were impossible to carry. “I think we should call it a night.” My eyes darted to Dominic, who was watching us with rapt attention, his dark gaze smoldering like coal on a fire.

“Why would we do that?” asked Trace distractedly as he nipped at me through my jeans.

Goddammit . “Because we can’t do this. It’s not right.”

“Says who?” he murmured as he popped the second button on my jeans, his breath fanning against my exposed stomach as he looked up at me under his thick, dark lashes. “No one has to know but us.”

Well …I bit my lip, warring with myself for an embarrassingly long moment. Maybe we could just — no . No. This was crazy. Wrong .

My heart pounded wildly in my chest as my eyes flicked back to Dominic again, searching for some allegiance. For some help. He just sat there, casually perched on the kitchen island, and if the small smirk playing on his sinfully sculpted lips was any indication of his stance, there would be no words of reason coming from him.

Still, I knew this wasn’t right. It was dangerous and reckless, and it needed to stop right then and there, regardless of the way Trace was looking up at me, or the way his hands on my body was making my skin feel like it was on fire.

“This isn’t…we shouldn’t,” I mumbled weakly, my fingers threading into his hair as he lowered my zipper—slowly as if to give me ample time to stop him.

I’d meant to push him away then, to put an end to this madness before it even got started, but somehow, my hands hadn’t received the memo and instead appeared to be marveling at how silky soft his hair felt.

Trace hooked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and panties and then tugged them halfway down my thighs. Cool air kissed my overheated flesh, making me shiver. “Let me make you feel good.”

The rational part of my brain screamed that we shouldn’t be doing this here, where anyone could walk in at any moment. That we shouldn’t be doing this anywhere , but the ache between my thighs had nearly drowned that part out entirely. I wanted his mouth—no. I needed his mouth on me.

My skin buzzed as I watched him kiss a trail up my inner thigh, eviscerating the very last remnants of my resolve. Gripping my hips, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss above my center before his tongue darted out to taste me.

“Oh god,” I whimpered, my fingers fisting into his hair as my legs jerked against the constraints of my jeans.

Trace groaned in response and then licked a long, slow stripe up my center, sending sparks of heat shooting through me. My hips bucked up to meet his mouth, and his grip on my hips tightened, holding me in place as he continued swirling and flicking his tongue against me.

“Trace, please ,” I moaned, not even sure what I was begging him for. For my sense to come back? For more? For him to never stop? He hummed against my heat in response, the vibrations making me bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out for more.

Tension coiled deep in my belly as I looked up and locked gazes with Dominic, his dark eyes blazing as he watched us from across the room. My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his stare, at the way he studied every shudder and moan that Trace was pulling from me. The intense, hungry way he watched me only heightened the haze that was taking over my existence. I couldn’t look away from him, not even when Trace slid his finger inside me and then sucked me between his lips.

There were no more thoughts of tomorrow or consequences or why this was a horrible idea. Only the moment and Dominic’s eyes on me and the feel of Trace’s tongue licking at me as his finger stroked that sweet spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

Liquid warmth pooled in my center as my head flopped back against the cabinet. My lips parted on a scream that was abruptly cut off by a hand pressing down over my mouth. My eyes popped open to Dominic standing over me with a finger pressed over his lips in a shushing gesture as Trace climbed up from his knees and straightened.

What in the actual fuck ?

Before I could growl out my frustration at the both of them for their horrible bedside manner, my human ears finally caught up to their vampire ones.

Footsteps.

Shit .

Someone was coming.

I didn’t have a chance to panic. With Dominic’s hand still pressed against my mouth, he pulled me off the counter and then shoved me into Trace’s arm.

Trace’s hand quickly replaced Dominic’s as he clutched me to his chest from behind and then ported us out of the kitchen, leaving Dominic standing there, smirking at me in our wake.