Page 13 of Illusory

“Why the hell not?” asked Tessa, obviously failing to think the thought all the way through to the end.

“Because he’d set off everyprotectionward in the place.” A nauseating heaviness sank into my stomach like a block of concrete. “They’d immediately be alerted that there’s aRevenantin the building.”

Porting into Temple without the Council’s permission was dangerous enough on its own, but having a vampire do it was a surefire way to get that vampire killed. And I wasn’t in the business of getting anyone I loved killed—especially not Trace.

“Shit,” muttered Tessa, obviously having forgotten that Trace was now among the recently Turned. “Alright. It’s fine. There’s no need to panic. I’m sure Trace isn’t the only Reaper who can port and who we also trust implicitly to do something like this. We just need to come up with a plan B.”

Right. Plan B. Easy-peasy.

The room fell into silence again as we tried to work out a way around the latest glaring roadblock standing in our way.

“Jemma can do it,” said Jaqueline unexpectantly. Her voice was so low, I was sure I hadn’t heard her right.

“Come again?” I asked, gawking at her like the nut she obviously was.

“You’re the only one that can do this without tipping off the wards.”

“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion, Jackie? Because last I checked, I’m not a Reaper,” I pointed out flatly.

“No, but your Alt was able to travel back in time to warn you about what was coming, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, but that still doesn’t make me a Reaper onthisTimeline.”

“You don’t need to be one. You’re Nephilim, Jemma. If you were able to learn the ability in the future, then that means youhavethat ability and can learn it now just as easily. We just need someone to teach you how to use it.”

For some reason, I hadn’t made that connection and suddenly, the air felt as though it had been knocked out of my lungs.

“Get Trace up here right now,” ordered Tessa, like the plan was already set in stone.

Gabriel turned toward the hallway, but I quickly threw out my hands to stop him. I hadn’t even had a chance to process Jaqueline’s words, let alone get on board with it.

“Woah! Hang on a minute! Where are you going?!” I hissed, my eyes bugging out of my head with panic. “Don’t you think we need to think this through first?” I asked, desperate to slow everything down a beat. To stop the room from spinning like a haunted Ferris wheel on crack.

“What’s there to think about?” asked Tessa, her mouth downturned in a frown. “This is a solid plan, Jemma.”

“Except for the part where TracejustTurned five seconds ago…and is also not on speaking terms with me.”

Her frown morphed into an angry scowl. “Well, that’s too fucking bad for him. He’s just going to have to put on his big boy pants and get the hell over it,” she spat as she shot up from her chair and then marched out of the kitchen like a category five hurricane.

A hurricane that was undoubtably headed straight for Trace.

4. IN THE SHADOW OF DOUBT

With the whole of my heart lodged somewhere in the middle of my throat, I flew out of my chair and chased after my sister as she barreled down the hallway like a drill sergeant from hell. The last thing I needed was Tessa inserting her nose into my business with Trace and making him even more angry and distant from me than he already was.

Just the thought of herforcinghim to play nice with me made me want to wither away and die from humiliation.

“Tessa! Stop!” I yelled, running after her as she headed for the basement door with absolutely no intention of slowing down. The closer she got, the louder my heart screamed, ringing between my ears as though a bomb had gone off inside my head. “Would you just give me a minute!” I shrieked, grabbing her by the elbow and then yanking her back before she could turn the door handle.

“A minute for what?” she growled as she spun around to face me. Her expression was all kinds of pursed and puckered, but she somehow still managed to look effortlessly beautiful. “This isn’t the time for idiotic love spats, Jemma. Everything is on the line right now and we need his help.”

“I know that, and I’m sure he’s going to help, but just…just give him a minute to adjust for fuck’s sake!” My voice was unnaturally high on the tail end as though slowly being choked by my own nerves.

She folded her arms and arched her brow at me. “He’s already had several minutes.”

“You know what I mean,” I bit out and then wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Thisjusthappened to him—without his permission or memory. He needs time to sit with it,” Iargued, though truth be told, I wasn’t sure he’d everreallyhave enough time to come to terms with what we’d done to him. And bywe, I meant me and my reckless future self. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I promise I will. Just please, let him have tonight.”

She mulled it over, her gaze flicking back to the basement door as though she were contemplating how quickly she could run it down with me still standing in her way.

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