Page 38 of Incipient

I frowned at that, mostly because he was right. We couldn’t stay like this all night.

“Not that I mind this,” he went on, his eyes meeting mine again, a hint of flirtation in them now. “But one of us is going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later.”

I laughed again and then beamed up at him, feeling grateful that he was here to take my mind off the horrible predicament I was in. “Thank you for coming,” I said, my heart pattering in my chest as I met those soulful, ever-haunted eyes of his. “I don’t think I would’ve survived the hour if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’ll always come for you, Jemma,” he said, the admission a quiet whisper between the two of us. “Always.”

My heart reacted to his words, as though it wanted to reach out and trap the promise within its walls. He was saying that now, but would he always feel that way? Would he still mean it once he found out the truth about what happened?

“Maybe one day you’ll even trust me enough to call me first,” he mused.

My stomach sank at his words, at the hurt that was seeping into his expression. “I didn’tnotcall you because I don’t trust you, Trace. It was never about trust.” I pressed my lips together and looked away because I really couldn’t explain it more than that.

He ducked down to catch my gaze again. “Do you, though? Trust me?”

“With my life,” I answered automatically, not even bothering to think about it.

He stared back at me, long enough for me to grow self-conscious under his thoughtful gaze, and then he nodded, satisfied with my answer. “How’s your head feeling?” he asked as he brought his hand back up to my face, stroking my cheek gently.

“It hurts, but it’s bearable now.” I smiled at him as the charge between us vibrated from under his palm.

There was no doubt it was better with Trace here. Without him, I was certain I wouldn’t have lasted another twenty minutes, let alone the rest of the night. As awesome as that was, we still weren’t any closer to getting me out of this compromising situation than when we’d started, and we couldn’t exactly stand here in Ben’s cellar for the rest of our lives.

Something needed to give.

“What if it doesn’t stop soon? What if there’s no way to stop it on its own?” I asked, fear gripping my insides and twisted them like a knife. “What if the only way to stop it is to…obey?”

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he thought about it. “Do you think you can handle it if I take my hand away?”

“Why?” I croaked out, not wanting to test it out.

“It’ll just be a minute, I promise,” he said as he slowly withdrew his hand from my face, watching for any signs of distress, before he lowered it into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

I watched nervously as he opened his contacts list and sifted through the names, wondering what he was up to.

“We’re going to need some reinforcements,” he said pointedly and then met my eyes. “I’m calling Gabriel.”

16. THE A TEAM

After a brief phone call with Gabriel and a slightly longer and more detailed conversation with Ben, Gabriel arrived at Ben’s house twenty minutes later,invitationand all, and then joined us downstairs in the cellar. Frankly, between all the eye-candy standing around me and the plethora of chains and cuffs, it was starting to look like a kinky scene from some BDSM book. Sadly, I was in no condition to appreciate the irony of it.

Gabriel came to a screeching halt as his heavy gaze landed on mine. “Dammit, Jemma.”

“This is not my fault. What else was I supposed to do?” I defended against his unspoken accusation. He of all people should’ve understood how impossible it was to withstand the power of compulsion.

“You do realize you can’t justwaitthis thing out, right? The compulsion will not just disappear because some time has gone by,” he lectured, clearly not impressed with my handling of the situation.

Also, that wasexactlywhat I didn’t want to hear. Leave it to Gabriel, the bringer of all bad news, to hit me with the bad news right when I needed it the least.

“What the hell am I supposed to do then?” I cried out, trying hard to keep the anguish from my voice. “I can’t just walk into the lion’s pit and hand my throat over to him, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Clearly.” He crossed his arms over his chest and thought about it, the apprehension pinching his brows together. “We need to vanquish him.”

“Agreed,” said Trace, his shoulder pressed against the concrete walls and his arms still wrapped snugly around my waist, keeping the agony at bay.

“No!” I snapped, shaking my head as a rush of panic hit me. “That’s not an option, Gabriel, and you know it. Come up with something else,” I demanded through gritted teeth.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered something under his breath and then looked up to meet my eyes again. “There is something else that may work, but it’s unproven and I’m reluctant to even attempt it.”

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