Page 35 of Irreverent (The Marked Saga #7)

I spent the rest of the day curled up next to Trace, sleeping. Even though he wasn’t awake or even remotely responsive to me, I felt better just being next to him and hoped that somehow, wherever he was in his mind, that he could feel me beside him too, and that it made him feel better knowing I was still there with him.

That I wasn’t giving up on him.

Our soulmate bond continued to hum between us whenever I was near him, but I couldn’t help but notice that it had weakened considerably over the last couple of weeks. It almost felt as though we were walking away from each other, putting more and more distance between our physical bodies, yet we were still as close as ever. I wasn’t sure what that meant but the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach told me it wasn’t anything good.

If anything, it only further convinced me that I had made the right decision to barter myself in exchange for bringing Trace back to me, and so long as that bond kept humming, there was still time to make this right.

To my surprise, the sun had long set by the time I roused from the bed and stumbled out of the guest room. After a quick search of the house, I realized I was alone and that everyone had apparently already gone out for the night. Tessa was undoubtedly back at Temple pouring through more grimoires and scripture while Jaqueline was probably out stalking her next meal, though I had no idea where Gabriel had disappeared to.

Feeling a slight hunger pang in my stomach, I grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the counter and then made my way toward the basement door. My pulse sped up as I stopped in front of the archway and contemplated going downstairs again. Truthfully, I hadn’t intended on paying Dominic another visit today. In fact, I had intended on just the opposite, but somehow, my feet were moving themselves down each step before I even had a chance to make the decision.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away for long,”

drawled Dominic, knowing it was me even before I rounded the corner and stepped into view.

I briefly wondered how he had sensed my presence without our bloodbond? Knowing my luck, it wasn’t enough that I was cursed to Hell, I was probably also some abnormally heavy walker that he could hear coming from a mile away. Or maybe he just sensed my Luciferian blood the way demons sensed Nikki’s baby.

“Keep telling yourself that,”

I shot back, unwilling to give him even an inch of victory. “I’m only here to check if the fridge needs restocking,” I lied, still not throwing a single glance his way as I walked straight to the fridge and then peered inside. Pretending to inventory its contents, I took a bite of my apple and then shut the door.

“Well?”

I turned and looked at him, my heart staling in my chest as I met those dark boundless eyes of his. He was standing with his back against the wall and one foot kicked up behind himself, looking as alluring and enigmatic as he had been the day I met him, even despite being shackled up like an animal. “Well what?”

An easy smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Does it need restocking?”

I shook my head. Unfortunately, that did nothing to help clear the fog swirling around in my brain. “N-no. Not yet.”

“Ah. Crisis averted then.”

He slipped his hands into his front pockets, the chains jangling noisily from the movement as he inspected me further. “Will you be joining me for another chat this evening?”

“That depends,”

I said as I took another bite from my apple, my mouth suddenly feeling arid as fuck.

“On?”

“On what you have to say.”

He considered it. “I’m feeling very generous this evening.”

I leveled him with a look, trying to gauge whether he was being sincere with me or if he was just taking me for another ride. I soaked in the dark glint in his eyes and then that permanent fixture of a smirk across his plush lips. I could tell he was trying to play it cool—appear aloof, nonchalant, like it didn’t matter to him whether I stayed or not—but there was something more hiding behind his eyes. There was a definite air of desperation, of loneliness, as though he had a sudden burning need to escape the solitude of being left alone in the basement for hours upon hours.

Well, shit. Was he starting to crack under the pressure? Was my plan actually maybe working for once?

Damn straight it was!

I crossed the room to the cell door and unlocked it, my eyes never leaving his as he watched me with that same dangerously inviting gleam in his eyes. Taking another bite, I moved to my usual spot across from him—just close enough to get a perfect view of him, but not close enough for him to touch me.

His gaze slid down my frame, soaking in the sights like I was his own private dancer before coming up the other way, stopping briefly on my chest and then climbing back up to meet my eyes.

I finished chewing the piece of apple in my mouth and swallowed. “Enjoy the view?”

“Immensely,”

he said as his features darkened. “Did you omit your bra for my benefit?”

I huffed out a dry laugh, not even bothering to cover up even though I knew I was wearing nothing but a thin camisole on top. “I bet you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?”

He tilted his head in contemplation. “I’d like it much more from this side of the line,”

he said and then surged forward, moving like an indistinguishable blur as he yanked against the chains and came to a dead stop just inches away from me.

My heart had all but jammed itself into my throat as I dove backwards, slamming against the steel bars and dropping my half-eaten apple in the process. My gaze dropped to the marker plastered on the ground as I silently thanked every god known to man that the spelled chains had held.

“Or that side,”

he continued evenly. “If you’d have me.”

My teeth gnashed together as I pushed forward and rammed both my hands into his chest, sending him smashing back against the concrete wall on the other side of the cell. “Do that again and I won’t feed you for a week.”

He snarled at me. “If you’re referring to Gabriel’s icebox of horrors, you’ll be doing me a favor,”

he bit out, referring to the mini fridge packed with donor blood. “Frankly, temptress, you’re going to have to do much better than that if you intend to glean any information from me.”

I searched his eyes, momentarily lost in his words. Is that what he thought this was about? That I had dragged him here and chained him up in my basement to get information out of him? Did it not even occur to him that I was doing this because I loved him—because I wanted to find a way to save him from himself?

Maybe it was better that he didn’t know that. Something told me it would only make the demon inside of him hold on tighter.

His dark eyes thinned ever so slightly. “That is what you want, is it not?”

I nodded, but barely.

He assessed me for a beat before pulling back his suspicion. “Perhaps we ought to make a deal then.”

“A deal?”

“A trade if you will.”

He smirked. “You give me something I want, and in return, I’ll give you something you want.” His dark eyes flared with heat at the proposition.

“And what is it that you want?”

I asked, feeling a prickle of fear scratch its way down the back of my neck.

“I’ll give you one hint. It doesn’t come from that icebox.”

Neither one of us broke eye contact. I already knew what he was talking about.

“You want my blood.”

A ball of barbwire unfurled along my insides. “Sorry, but I’m not going to just let you feed from me. I’m not stupid. You’ll snap my neck the first chance you get.”

“That is true.”

He laughed as though the idea had momentarily entertained him. “There are other ways, of course. While not as enticing as that pulsing vein currently throbbing on the side of your neck, a tumbler might still do the trick.”

“A tumbler, huh?”

I thought about it. He must have been damn near starving to come up with a deal like that. Answering all my questions in exchange for a few sips of my blood. From a glass no less. It was a done deal. “Alright, but you need to talk first. If you tell me something worthwhile, I’ll give you some of my blood in return.”

A shadow settled over his face. “Am I to simply trust that you’ll hold up your end of the deal?”

he asked, as though the idea were utterly absurd.

I shrugged. “Looks like you don’t really have a choice here.”

***

After fetching a glass tumbler and steak knife from the kitchen, I returned to the basement with both items in hand and my stomach in a noose-like knot. Despite my ever-present anxiety, I needed to do this. For Trace. So, I pushed the fear away, squared my shoulders like a boss-bitch and rejoined Dominic in his cell.

There was a tiny, barely audible voice in the back of my mind that was telling me to tread carefully—that I was but a lamb in the lion’s den, but I batted the irritating sound away as I sat down across from him and met his hungry eyes.

I remembered that look well, feeling it with every part of my body as my memories flooded me. I had loved that look—lived for that look. But this wasn’t about that. Not tonight anyway.

“What do you know about Trace?”

I asked, jumping right to the point before I could further distract myself as I set the knife and glass on the floor in front of me and met his eyes.

He was seated on the concrete floor with his back against the wall again. His knees were bent before him, and his forearms were resting atop them.

“I know his days are numbered,”

he answered without a lick of emotion.

A surge of panic shot up the back of my throat. It tasted a hell of a lot like bile. “Why? What makes you say that?”

“Simply put? His memories are tied to the witch.”

“How?” I tested.

He barely had to think about it. “A talisman most likely.”

Okay, so he appeared to be telling me the truth being that I’d already crossed that bridge moments before Nikki burned it to the ground. If he was being honest about that, maybe this little deal of ours was actually going to pay off for once.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,”

I said as I picked up the knife and pressed it against my forearm, dragging the blade aimlessly, scraping the surface but not with enough pressure to break the skin. “What happens to him if she breaks the talisman?”

His eyes darkened into two onyx stones as he trailed the movement. “If she breaks it, you can kiss Romeo as you know him goodbye.”

His gaze snapped back up to meet mine. “He may have cheated death, but that spell is the only thing preserving his life and when that is no more, death will come back for him. As it does for all of us.”

More bile rose to the surface. Did that mean that Trace was slowly dying? Was that the reason our bond was growing weaker and weaker? I couldn’t even bring myself to ask the question, afraid I might throw up if I tried to utter those words.

“What can I do to stop this…to stop death from taking him?”

Dominic kicked out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “It seems my memory is fogging up again.”

I glared at him, angry sparks of heat lapping at my skin.

“Of course, I’d be more inclined to remember if I had…”

His attention shot down to my wrist where the blade had come to a full stop. “A taste.”

Oh right. I’d forgotten about the whole give and take bit. Rushing to get it over with, I nicked my vein with the tip of the blade and drew out a steady plume of blood. His fangs immediately clicked out as his ravenous eyes blackened into night. Holding my wrist above the tumbler, I let the blood pour out from me and then squeezed my hand into a fist in an effort to get it out faster.

His gaze remained transfixed on the glass as my blood slowly trickled into it, filling it up to about half an inch or so high. Just enough to tease his lips with.

“You were saying?”

“There’s only ever been one way to cheat death, angel,”

he said, dragging his eyes back up to meet mine.

I slid the glass to the other side of the marker. “And what way is that?”

He prowled forward and picked up the glass, swirling the thick red blood around as he stared at it as though ensnared in its beauty. When his eyes had their fill, he brought the tumbler to his lips and tipped his head back, swallowing it down in one large gulp. And I watched him, of course, everlastingly fascinated with every single part that made him.

He produced a crooked smile, flashing his red-stained fang before sliding his tongue over the tip of it and said, “You’re looking at it, angel.”