Page 4 of Irreverent (The Marked Saga #7)

The sound of my pulse banging violently between my ears made it impossible for me to hear my own jagged breath as Gabriel curled his fingers around my forearm and held it. There was a brief moment of hesitation, as though he were debating whether or not to back out of this while he still had the chance. And if I was being honest with myself, the same thought had flitted through my own mind, though it was too short-lived to make an impression.

I looked up and watched the remaining moss-green color disappear from his eyes as the familiar, ravenous darkness consumed the entirety of his irises. And this time, he didn’t shut it down.

I sucked in a breath as he drew my wrist up to his mouth and then paused again as he gently brushed his nose against my skin, as if to take in my scent. I couldn’t help but notice that he appeared to be far more in control of himself than he had been the first time we’d bloodshared, which gave me a surge of hope that maybe this wasn’t going to end in a complete and total disaster.

With his hungry gaze downcast and focused on his mark, he lowered his head and then sank his teeth into my flesh, his pointed fangs cutting through the delicate skin there as easy as slicing through warm butter.

I winced against the burning sensation, but only for a fraction of a second before his venom took root and quicky nullified any discomfort I might have felt. Before I could even release the breath I’d been holding, I felt that familiar surge of pleasure quietly washing over me and then through me, erasing anything that might have caused me pain in its wake.

My hand shot out in front of me, landing on the front of his leather jacket. I was sure it had gone there to tap him out—to let him know it was enough, but instead, I felt my fingers twisting into the thick leather material of his jacket, closing a desperate fist around it as I used my hold to jerk him closer to me. To keep him right where he was in case he got it in his head to cut the session short.

Shit. Relax, Jemma. Don’t lose your head, I silently commanded myself, and I knew I needed to listen, but the thought was too weak and ephemeral for me to grab onto. The waves were growing in strength now, threatening to take me under.

I stumbled forward again, using Gabriel’s body to support my own weight. I vaguely heard the sound of his own feet shuffling closer to me as we instinctively erased the gap between us.

My lids fluttered weakly, opening and closing in no particular order as the room began to move out of focus around me. Not that it mattered to me one bit. All I wanted to do was shut my eyes for good and succumb to the waves washing over me. To let them pull me out to sea and drown me in their open arms.

Stay focused, dammit. Remember why you’re doing this!

My eyes flung open, desperate to hold onto some semblance of consciousness and were immediately met with Gabriel’s boundless eyes staring back at me. His dark hair fell low on his forehead, almost reaching his eyes, but I could see his gaze was trained on me, watching me as he fed from me—holding me in a grip I couldn’t break out of.

Another breath caught in my throat as his hand moved to my hip and then wrenched me forward so that we were flush against each other. Somewhere in the peripheral of my mind, I knew the gesture was too much and that we needed to stop, but the waves just kept crashing over me, making it impossible for me to catch my breath.

Black spots emerged in the corners of my eyes, shuttering out the world around me…drawing me further and further away from this moment; from the kitchen where we stood, and the plan that had led us here, as it peacefully dragged me out into the abyss. I was slipping into its depths and every part of me was a willing participant.

“Keep going…don’t…stop,”

I whimpered, my voice sounding far more heated and needy than I intended it to.

Gabriel blinked at my words and then, as if snapping out of a spell, ripped his teeth from my wrist and pushed me back as his own body crashed against the kitchen table. His hands slammed down on either side of him, white knuckling the edge of the table as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head like he was trying to wake himself up.

Dazed and unable to fully focus on him, I stumbled backward on shaky legs, unable to catch my footing before staggering back the other way like some sort of deranged pendulum. Gabriel’s hands shot out to stop me from connecting with his body, his fingers digging painfully into my waist as he forced me to remain at arm’s length.

“Do. Not. Move.”

His warning was a low growl that I instinctively knew to heed.

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and I knew it was because he was warring with the demon inside of him—willing it to retreat back into the dark corner of his being. Powerless to do much else, I stood there and watched dizzily, grateful that one of us had been able to get their wits about but mortified that it had been the blood-lusting vampire and not me. I wasn’t sure what that said about my self-control, but I imagined it wasn’t anything complimentary.

Dropping my head, I closed my eyes and tried to put the flailing pieces of myself back together. I didn’t dare detach myself from the death grip Gabriel had on me. For one, he’d warned me not to move and I knew better than that. I already knew that the slightest movement in the wrong direction could easily draw the beast back out to hunt. Something neither of us wanted. And secondly, I was fairly certain that I would find myself crumbling to my ass without the support of Gabriel’s unyielding hands. The venom from his bite was still very much rioting through my body, and the blood loss far too substantial to do anything other than stand there.

So that’s what I did.

Minutes passed as we remained cemented in our place, neither one of us moving or saying a word as we both tried to regain a steady grasp on reality. After a moment or so, I opened my eyes and chanced a peek at him, assessing the damage.

His eyes were still squeezed shut, but his hard grip on my waist had softened. I held my breath and waited for his eyes to open and then finally breathed a sigh of relief when I was met with those kind, olive-green eyes. His inner demon had retreated to its cage, leaving just the kind sentient being I knew and loved in its place.

“Well, that was…intense,”

I whispered hoarsely.

He gave a slight nod and then withdrew his hands from my waist before pushing them through his hair. No matter how many times he combed his fingers through it, though, his locks always fell right back into place.

Feeling unsteady on my own legs, I dropped back into my chair as the room continued to gently spin around me.

“I’m sorry,”

he said, shaking his head as he took me in. Whatever it was he was seeing, he didn’t like it.

“Sorry for what? Everything went perfect.”

“Perfect?”

He spat the word out like vomit. “You’re as white as a ghost and can barely keep your eyes focused on me,” he said, sounding as despondent as he looked.

“But you didn’t kill me.”

I shrugged. Yay.

He openly glared at me as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I took too much.”

“But I’m fine.”

His frown deepened. “Do you have any idea how close you came to—”

He cut himself off as though he couldn’t bear to say the words. “It took everything I had to stop myself, Jemma.”

“But you did, and we’re both fine,”

I repeated, my voice turning sympathetic. “This is how it always goes, Gabriel. Even with Dominic. It’s nothing that a little Revenant blood won’t fix.” Which brought us to the next part of our session. “Please, just trust me for once. I’ll be all better in a couple of minutes,” I insisted and then nodded to his wrist expectantly.

His nostrils flared as his gaze travelled from my eyes to his wrist and then back again. Uncertainty danced in his eyes like a shadow, as though he were debating whether it was too late to back out of this thing altogether, and then, as if deciding that it was, he brought his wrist to his mouth and pierced his flesh.

Two red beads blossomed against his pale skin, and my mouth instantly watered. Before I could feel the shame of it or question what the hell was wrong with me, I reached forward and grabbed a hold of his wrist, guiding it to my lips like it was the air to my suffocating lungs before covering it with the whole of my mouth.

My eyes slipped shut as I drew his medicinal blood into my mouth, feeling myself become more alive with each swallow. Its otherworldly power washed through my thirsty veins, healing my soul, body and mind like an enchanted elixir made entirely of magic. In truth, I only needed a little bit to feel whole again, to replenish what had been taken, but like a Revenant’s bite, it never seemed to be enough.

Digging my fingernails into his skin, I sucked down harder, greedily drinking from him as though he were my secret fountain of youth. A low rumbling growl sounded from deep in his chest as he tried to unlatch his wrist from my mouth, but it only made me clamp down harder.

“That’s enough, Jemma,”

he said, his voice strained and hoarse as he tried to pull his arm back again, this time with more urgency and force than before. And still, I refused to let go. Even as he jerked his arm all the way back, the abrupt movement only served to pull me up from my chair and yank me forward into his chest right along with it.

As embarrassing as my display was, it paled in comparison to my need to have just a little bit more. Just enough to hold me over until—

“JEMMA!”

he roared as he ripped his wrist from my mouth and pushed me back with his other arm, keeping the bleeding one over his head and out of my reach like I was some rabid dog with a taste for blood.

Enraged, I slammed back into him, my own frenzied hands reaching up to a grab hold of his wrist again, but it only made him stand up taller while pressing his forearm down harder against my chest. After a couple more failed attempts, I finally gave up and stammered backward, my knees banging into the chair behind me and causing it to screech against the tile. I peered up at Gabriel and immediately felt my cheeks redden.

His arm was still suspended in the air, as though he’d forgotten to lower it, and he was watching me with a mixture of bewilderment and fear in his eyes, as though he’d just come upon a strange creature in the wild that had never been seen before. Leave it to Gabriel to be so dramatic.

My own heart pounded excitably against my rib cage as the rest of my body tingled from the inside out. But it wasn’t from fear or weakness or panic. No. It was from adrenaline. The kind that comes when it’s a life-or-death situation and you need to step up to the plate and win it. My entire body was buzzing with it.

When I glanced back up at Gabriel, he was still staring at me in shock, his eyes narrowed and exploratory, as though trying to make sense of me. Frankly, it was getting on my nerves.

“Can you stop staring at me like I’m some freak. I got carried away. It’s not the end of the—”

“It’s not that,”

he cut in, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s…your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

I repeated sounded bored. “What about them?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They’re…glowing.”

I nearly choked on my own saliva. “They’re what now?”

Lowering his arm, he pushed off the table and took a careful step toward me, still staring at me with that same puzzled look in his eyes. “Has this ever happened with Dominic?”

“Has what happened? What the hell are you talking about?”

I snapped and then bolted out of the kitchen, making a beeline for the downstairs powder room. I had no idea what he was talking about, but by the way he had been gaping at me, it didn’t appear to be good or natural in the least.

Flicking the light switch on, I grabbed the bathroom counter and leaned all the way toward the mirror to get a good, hard look at myself and then gasped at my reflection. Glowing gray eyes stared back at me like two translucent, freaky-ass orbs of light.

“I take it this hasn’t happened before,”

said Gabriel, startling me as he appeared behind me.

“No! My eyes have never glowed before, Gabriel. Why the hell are my eyes glowing?!”

He shook his head as he watched me through the mirror. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”

I could see the worry carving itself across his features and it only made the anxiety inside me bolster.

I was spiraling out and I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Why does this stuff always have to happen to me? Floating furniture, time freezing, glowing eyes! Can I be any more of a mutant?”

I cried as I leaned toward the mirror again. The translucent glow seemed to be fading some, but not fast enough to erase the panic storming through my body.

“How long have these things been going on?”

he asked, his eyebrows bundled together in curiosity.

“I don’t know. Pretty much since I moved here,”

I said and then startled at the sound of my phone ringing. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone and checked the lock screen. Morgan Sinclair.

Why the hell was Morgan calling me at midnight? I wondered and then paled as my stomach twisted with dread. What if it was about Trace? Had something horrible happened? Had she had some sort of vision about him?

“Jemma, we need to talk about—”

“Hang on, I have to get this,”

I said and then accepted the call. “Morgan? What is it? What’s going on?” I asked in a frantic rush. A hundred different scenarios involving Trace coming apart at the seams had already cycled through my brain before I even answered the phone.

“Hey. Listen, I’m sorry for calling so late—”

“It’s fine. What’s going on? Is Trace okay?”

“He’s still with Ben,”

she answered, more or less dodging my very direct question. Then again, if something bad had happened, she probably would have just come out and said it. “I actually need to talk to you. Can I come over?”

Confusion followed by crushing panic hit me like an open-handed slap across the face. “Why? What’s this about?”

There was a brief stint of silence on the other end, which only made my anxiety intensify. “I had a vision earlier tonight,”

she finally answered. “Well, more like a message.”

“A message?”

I baulked as the word sounded back to me. “From who?”

“Look, I’d rather not have this conversation over the phone. Can I come over or not?”

My stomach coiled itself into a knot. Something told me she wasn’t coming over here to share good news with me and definitely not at this time of night. The thought alone made me shudder.

“Jemma?”

she snapped impatiently.

“Yeah. You can come over,”

I finally answered, dejected.

“Good because I’m outside your door,”

she said and then hung up the phone just as the doorbell rang.

“What’s going on?”

asked Gabriel as I slipped my phone into my pocket and turned on the faucet.

“Morgan Sinclair is here,”

I said as I cupped my hands under the running water and then splashed it against my face. “She said she had some kind of vision about Trace. Like a message or something.”

He nodded, as though what I had just said to him was completely normal. As though everyone’s high school classmates rang their doorbell in the middle of the night with visions from the great beyond.

“I should probably let myself out and give you two a chance to—”

“Do you have to?”

I cut in before he could finish excusing himself.

“Do I have to what?”

“Leave,”

I clarified and immediately felt my cheeks warm. “I mean, it’s fine if you have other things to do or whatever. I guess I was kind of hoping you’d stay. Or not.” The heat spread down to my chest then. “I mean, we should probably do another session tonight anyway, don’t you think? I figure the more we do this, the faster it will go, right? But it’s totally up to you.” I had no idea why I was rambling on like a nervous buffoon, but there I was.

“Hellooo?”

Morgan’s sing-song voice echoed through the hallway. Apparently, she’d already let herself in.

I looked back at Gabriel with pleading eyes, hoping I wasn’t going to have to go into another rant.

“I can stay if you want me to,”

he said with a tip of his head.

“Thank you.”

I smiled, grateful that he’d put me out of my misery. Pushing up on my toes, I dropped a chaste kiss on his check and then rushed out of the bathroom to meet Morgan.

Whatever it was she came to tell me, I knew it had to be important being that she came all this way in the middle of the night just to tell me. I only hoped I would be able to handle whatever the bad news was, because if my past was to be any indicator of what was to come, it was undoubtedly going to be bad news.

It always fucking was.