Page 118 of Inception

Two wax candles burned leisurely on the coffee table as the three of us convened in the living room. Gabriel sat firm on the armchair while Trace and I took our previous spots on the sofa with a bundled blanket sandwiched between us, courtesy of me. There was a stretch of awkward silence before Gabriel took the lead and began compiling information about what had gone down today. Unfortunately, we were nowhere closer to figuring out who was behind the attack though Engel and his men were definitely at the top of everyone’s suspect list.

“So if he’s behind this, what’s the plan now that they’ve made Jemma?” asked Trace.

“Tessa reached out to them already,” answered Gabriel. “She let them know she’s interested in dealing. That should put them back on track for now. The next step is to track her tails and see how many men are on her.”

“So they still think Tessa has the Amulet?” verified Trace.

“They have no reason not to,” answered Gabriel. “The focus is back on her, which is what we want. As long as they believe Tessa’s interested in making a deal with them, it should give them enough incentive to back off of Jemma.”

“Should?” Trace and I repeated at the same time.

He nodded, regretful. “There’s no way to know what their next move will be, but at least we know what they’re after. It’s easier to control the outcome this way. Until this thing is over, you’re simply going to have to lay low for a while,” he said, his eyes regretful. “I know this isn’t what you want, but that means certain conditions for you, Jemma.”

“Like what?” I gulped.

“Curfew. School and back. And never alone. I’ll stand watch throughout the night and maybe Trace can keep an eye out during the day when I can’t be there. Tessa was adamant about this, and I must say, I fully agree with her.”

My head was spinning. I needed permanent chaperones now? And Trace of all people? He didn’t want to get close to me, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be involved in vampire business.

“Trace can’t do it,” I said shaking my head. “Maybe we can ask Julian or one of Tessa’s—”

“I’ll do it,” said Trace, speaking over me. His eyes locked in on mine. They looked so determined—almost feral. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”

A slash of heat tore through my body.

“Then it’s settled,” nodded Gabriel, content.

“Great,” agreed Trace.

Apparently, I was the only who thought this had all kinds of bad written all over it.

35. BACK TO THE PAST

Trace was outside my house early the next morning under the pretense of driving me to school. It was only after I climbed into his Mustang that he informed me we were actually ditching school and going to his house instead.

I made zero protests.

The rain came down like axes, making it hard to see anything, though I immediately recognized the gated community as Caleb and Carly’s and was surprised to find that Trace lived just a few houses down from them. Where the Owens’ house was all glass and pallor, Trace’s house was the polar opposite; a stunning dark-stone mansion with wood finishing and a decadent porch that wrapped around the house like a ribbon.

Inside, the foyer opened to a vaulted living Room with high beamed ceilings and limestone floors that stretched to what seemed like the ends of the earth. As breathtaking as it was, the chill was unmistakable. The house felt empty—jarringly so. Not of furniture but of something else; of family, of life. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

We left our shoes in the mudroom and went up to the second floor where Trace ushered us into his bedroom. With my back pasted against the door, I scanned the expansive room, taking in the mahogany furniture, the blue walls, the large double bed to the right and matching navy comforter. I noticed a small desk on the adjacent wall-unit and couldn’t help but smile to myself as I tried to imagine Trace sitting there doing his Math homework.

Everything seemed nice, and tidy, and smelledgood; the remnants of a spicy cologne I already knew and loved.

“You can come in all the way,” he said, pulling out the desk chair like a ligneous invitation. “I don’t bite.”

“I know that.” My heart was beating so fast I thought I might pass out if I got any closer to him. “So what’s the plan for today?” I asked instead, still not budging from the door.

His dimples flickered as he pressed his lips together. He moved to the edge of his bed and slumped down onto it. “I take you to go see your dad. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s what I want.”Desperately.

“Okay.” His eyes traveled down the length of my body. “Did you bring a change of clothes or were you planning on seeing him in your Weston uniform?”

“I have other clothes in my bag,” I croaked, my throat already dry as chalk. I hated the way he disrupted my normal bodily functions without even trying.

His eyes climbed back up in no hurry. “You can change in here,” he said and then instantly appeared in front of me, making my heart flutter. Flattening his palm against the door, he leaned into me, reaching. His mouth hovering around my ear, my neck, dizzying me with its nearness.

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