Iniquitous (The Marked #3)(81)

“It felt so strong. I was sure it was her,” I said, sort of to myself.

Trace closed the lid and then turned to his right. There was another coffin right behind us, parallel to the one I’d stopped beside. Without saying anything, he stalked over to it, unlatched the lock, and then yanked it open.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head as I took in the unaged woman damned to eternal rest before me. She looked just like Tessa with the same dark hair and raised alabaster cheekbones, and I knew it was her.

Jaqueline Morningstar…

My mother.





36. THE TIES THAT BIND


“Is it her?” asked Trace before bothering to turn around and notice my horrified expression.

He’d never met my mother before so he didn’t exactly know what she was supposed to look like. Then again, neither had I, though I’d seen pictures of her before. Even if she wasn’t a near replica of my sister, the image of her face had already been burned into my mind since childhood. I’d know her anywhere.

“It’s her.”

“I didn’t expect her to be so young.”

I was thinking the same thing. She couldn’t have been much older than Tessa which meant she had to have been in her early twenties when she Turned.

“Are you okay…with all this?”

“With seeing my long-lost mother laying lifeless in a coffin? No,” I said and steeled myself. “But I’ll get over it.”

Eventually.

He kissed the top of my forehead and then looked down at me, regret swirling deep in his sapphire eyes. “I hate to make this any worse, but I’m going to have to take her out of there.”

“I know. Just do what you have to do,” I said, my eyes never straying from my mother’s lifeless body.

He caressed my cheek gently and then turned back to the gilded casket. Reaching inside, he slipped one arm under her neck and one under the fold of her knees and then lifted her out of the box and into his arms.

Stepping back, I watched. I watched and nothing more. I refused to feel anything about it. I remained calm and detached and focused on what we were here to do. I had to. It was the only way I could make it through to the end of this with my mind still in once piece.

Without meeting Trace’s eyes, I stepped around to his back and wrapped my arms around his lower waist. I didn’t want to see my mother’s body in his arms. I didn’t want to see any of it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed down the grief.



Trace ported us back to the Manor where Dominic, Gabriel and Arianna were all waiting for us in the den. Their chatter fell silent and captivated faces stared back at us as we re-appeared in the middle of the room with my mother’s body in Trace’s arms. A clap of thunder rattled the house as the room slowly solidified around us. The looming storm from earlier had finally touched down just in time to welcome us home.

Hugging my arms for warmth, I stepped away from Trace and hurried to the fireplace where Dominic was standing with his arm over the mantel and a drink in his hand. I needed the heat of the fire to warm my body; the nearness of his body to calm my chaotic soul. Unconsciously, I shifted and swayed closer to him until my arm was touching his.

His gaze dropped to our touching body parts, and then back to my face, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t say anything and then his gaze returned to Trace as he and Gabriel carefully laid my mother down on the sofa.

“She...” Gabriel shook his head, awestruck by what he was seeing. “She looks just like Tessa.”

Trace craned his head to get a better look at her and then nodded. “She has Jemma’s mouth though.”

The room grew silent as everyone stared down at my mother’s lifeless body, appraising her features. This whole thing was disturbing and making me wholly uncomfortable.

“Can everyone stop gawking at her!” I snapped, glaring at each of them. “We didn’t bring her back here for an impromptu viewing so how about we stop staring at her and start getting this over and done with,” I said and then turned to Arianna, my patience teetering along the edge of a cliff. “What is the next step?”

She played with a ring around her finger. “We reanimate her and siphon her blood.”

“Great.” I uncrossed my arms and walked towards the sofa where my mother lay in wait. Her once-alabaster skin was lined with fissures and looked to be a sickly shade much closer to gray. “Get me something to store her blood in.”

“With all due respect, angel,” interrupted Dominic as he crossed the room to where I stood and then took a sip of his drink. “I really don’t think you’re the right person for this job.”

“This job is my mother,” I answered tartly.

“And that’s precisely why someone else should do it. You’re emotionally invested.”

“Do I look emotional to you right now?”

“He’s right,” agreed Gabriel, placing a friendly hand on my shoulder. “On the off chance that what your uncle said about her was true, she must be incapacitated immediately afterwards. There can be no hesitation.”

“Then I won’t hesitate.” I looked back at Trace, hoping for some kind of allegiance, but there was none to be found.

“It’s not worth the risk,” he said and then shook his head softly—with pity. “Besides, you shouldn’t have to see this.”