Page 15 of Infernal

And then my brain clicked back on.

“Holy shit!” I said and jumped up from my chair. The abrupt movement sent it screeching back into a filing cabinet.

“Jemma, darling, what’s gotten into you?” asked Peter, eyeing me as though I was batshit crazy.

And I hoped to God I was, because the alternative…the alternative didn’t make a lick of sense.

“What’s gotten intome?” I huffed out a maniacal laugh, and then another one. “I think you should be asking what’s gotten into him!” I cried, pointing an accusatory finger at Trace.

His eyebrows pulled together as a mixture of hurt and confusion coated his expression. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why are you acting like this?”

This had to be a dream. It had to. That or some sick joke that everyone was in on but me. My eyes snapped to Dominic for answers—if anyone would know what was going on, it was Dominic.

Don’t look at me, love, he said to my mind with a minute shake of his head.Try to keep him talking.

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who had to talk to his maybe dead/maybe fine/maybe possessed boyfriend.

Ignoring the painful pressure building in my chest, I turned back to Trace. I needed to get a hold of my damn self and get some answers. You know, assert my dominance and whatnot.

“What the h-hell is going on? What are you d-doing here?” I stuttered as I slowly backed away from him.

That went well.

Pressing my back against the wall, I followed the edges of the room and inched my way back to Dominic’s side. I figured I could be just as dominant from the other side of the room.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” Trace’s eyes bounced between me and Dominic, and I swore I saw hurt flicker through them at the sight of us together. “I work here.”

“Goodness, Jemma. Are you feeling alright?” asked Peter as he rose from his chair. “You seem out of sorts.”

Oh, my God, I was in the freaking twilight zone. Obviously, I’d hit my head a lot harder than I thought.

Paula knocked on the door and then poked her head all the way, her eyes landing on each of us before settling on Peter. “Mr. Macarthur, April needs you at the front.”

“Thank you, Paula. I’ll be right there.”

I shot Paula a get-me-the-hell-out-of-here look, but she seemed to miss the message as her pained eyes landed on me and Dominic. She abruptly left the room, and as soon as she did, I shoved Dominic in the same direction. The only thing I wanted to do was get my butt out of that room and away from Trace…or Lucifer…or whoever the hell he was until I figured out exactly WHO THE HELL HE WAS.

Something was severely wrong here, and honestly, I couldn’t stomach another minute of everyone staring at me like I was crazy. Like last night hadn’t happened. I came here with the intention of talking to Peter—of asking him for his help. I hadn’t braced myself forthis. For Trace being here and acting as if nothing happened.

This was utter insanity.

“Where are you going?” asked Trace, following us as I tripped over Dominic’s foot in my frenzy to run us out the door. “What’s going on, Jemma? Please talk to me.”

Dominic caught me mid-stumble and straightened me out. His eyes remained fixed on the Reaper before us, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched him, his dark eyes narrowing with unspoken suspicion.

“What’s going on?” I repeated his question while trying not to nervous-laugh. “I think I should be asking you that, Trace. Or should I call you Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” His head ticked back a notch. “You’re not making any sense, Jemma. You’re starting to scare me.”

My hands shot up to my temples. My head was pounding like someone planted a drum right between my ears.

Maybe Iwaslosing it?

His gaze snapped to Dominic. “What did you do to her?” he accused, his jaw flexing aggressively.

“I beg your pardon?”

Trace stomped towards Dominic, his eyes glowing and fueled by fire as he grabbed him by the lapels of his trench coat and shook him. “Did you compel her again?”

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