Incipient A Dark Paranormal Romance - Bianca Scardoni Page 0,47
was bad. So very bad.
The longer we waited, the more I began to wonder whether Gabriel was even going to come back, or if he was already halfway to the closest packed joint in town with voracious, bloodlust-filled eyes and no one to answer to?
Had I unwittingly just doomed this town to not one but two ravenous Huntington brothers…
18. BETTER NOW
The minutes ticked by languidly as though they were in no hurry to move this thing along. I, on the other hand, was pacing the cellar like a caged lion—with one foot still shackled since I refused to stand still long enough to let Trace uncuff me. The pain from Dominic’s compulsion was back and while it wasn’t as brutal as it was before Trace had arrived here, it certainly wasn’t as bearable as when I’d been standing with his arms around me.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t stand still, not even to save my own ass from a world of pain.
“Where is he? It’s been over twenty minutes,” I said without bothering to wait for an answer. “Call Ben again.”
Trace nodded and pulled out his phone, once again dialing Ben’s number, and once again, it went to voicemail.
Visions of Ben laying on the floor upstairs with his neck ripped open slammed into my mind.
“Something’s not right. We need to go up there.”
“I’m sure he’s just sleeping,” answered Trace as he grabbed my waist to stop me from pacing.
“No one can sleep that deep,” I said and then gave him a doubtful look.
“You’d be surprised.” Dropping on bended knee, he pulled out the last key and then worked it into the keyhole before pausing to peer up at me. “If you try to run to him—”
“I won’t…just…please stay close to me.” As much as Dominic’s compulsion continued to run rampant through my head, it wasn’t all-consuming anymore, so long as Trace was close enough to keep the unrelenting pain at bay.
And that was the way I intended to keep it.
He nodded and then unlocked the final chain before straightening to his full height. Picking up my hand, the two of us barreled out of the cellar and straight through the basement, pausing only when we got to the bottom of the stairs. Trace took the lead as I trailed closely behind him with our hands interlocked like our lives depended on it.
Our footsteps were careful and quiet, unsure of what we were going to find upstairs once we opened that basement door, but my heart was the polar opposite, pounding so loudly in my chest that I could hear it between my ears.
Upon reaching the top and final step, Trace signaled with his finger for me to stay quiet as he slowly turned the handle and cracked the door open.
Do you see anything? I asked in my mind.
Trace shook his head and then stepped into the house. I followed him inside, half expecting to see blood smeared all over the walls and floors. So far so good, I thought but I knew we had plenty of house left to cover.
We walked stealthily from the corridor to the main kitchen, then to the dining area and finally to the living room where we found Ben laying on the couch. His arm was hanging over the edge as though he were unconscious. I shrieked and immediately tried to run to his side, but Trace quickly yanked me back.
The look in his eyes told me we needed to be careful in case Gabriel was still in the house.
A million gruesome images flashed through my mind as we tiptoed our way to Ben. Another funeral. Another buried friend. More blood on my hands. When would it ever end?
“What is she doing out of the cellar?” The gritty sound of Gabriel’s voice from over my shoulder made me scream over Ben as though someone were murdering us.
“What is it? Who’s there? What’s going on?!” bellowed Ben as he jumped up from the couch still half-asleep as he attempted to wipe away the semi-dried drool from his cheek.
I folded over, bracing my hands on my knees for support as I caught my breath, relieved that Ben was not dead and had only been sleeping. My relief was short lived though as I whirled around and faced Gabriel.
“What the hell did you do?” I accused, my finger pointed at him as my eyes ran up and down his body, looking for signs of a bloody massacre. Everything seemed more or less in order, apart from his hair which looked slightly