The Soul's Mark: FOUND (7 page)

Amelia’s feet hurt.
 
Her back ached and her legs and just about
every muscle in her body screamed at her to sit down.
 
She peeked out of the dressing room door and
watched Angelle glide around the store grabbing more clothes for her to try
on.
 
They had been at it all day and this
had to be at least the fifteenth store they had been to.
 
She glanced at the storefront window, through
which the golden rays of the setting sun were entering the room.
 
It would be dark soon and with the way
Angelle was going, Amelia was sure they were not going to stop anytime soon.

I
should have listened to Eric and Luke
, she
huffed.
 
Amelia looked longingly at her
new phone, debating on whether or not she should call in a rescue mission.
 
They had tried to warn her.
 
But really, she had never thought it would be
this nuts
.
 
Angelle didn’t just have a little shopping problem, she was bordering on
an addiction, the kind of addiction that there really should be meetings
for.
 
Her shopping was not a hobby.
 
It was a sickness.

Amelia watched for another second, and then
she shut the door to the dressing room and looked back in the mirror.
 
She had to admit that her friend had a great
sense of style.
 
It had been a long time
since she had been shopping, and even longer since she had clothes that fit
properly.
 
Most of her wardrobe consisted
of hand-me-downs.
 
And even though she
felt a little like a dress up doll and she was exhausted, it was kind of, just
a little bit, fun.

She took off the little black dress that
Angelle had said, correctly, would look fantastic, pulled on her jeans and
hoodie, slung the keepers over her arm and ventured back out to the chaos that
was Angelle.

Amelia had only made it a few steps from
the dressing room when a girl popped up in front of her.
 
“Excuse me.
 
Are you Amelia Caldwell?” she asked, looking nervous.
 
She was a touch taller than Amelia was and
about the same age with short
bleach
blonde hair
pulled up in two spiky little pigtails, accentuating her sharp nose and
cheekbones.

Amelia had just opened her mouth to reply
when Angelle was suddenly there, pushing her back and placing herself right in
between them.
 
“That depends,” Angelle
said, sugar dripping from her voice.
 
“Who’s asking?”

Amelia’s mouth opened then closed stunned
at her friend’s reaction.
 
The girl looked
sweet, wearing baggy corduroy overalls and a long-sleeved white t-shirt.
 
Nothing about her suggested a threat.
 
So what was with Angelle’s protective
demeanor?
 
She recovered from her shock,
stepped out from behind Angelle and gave her a dirty look.
 
“Jeez Angelle, don’t be so rude.”

“It’s okay,” the girl said to Amelia, and
then turned her attention to Angelle. “I’m Erin Truscott, ma’am.”

Ma’am?
Amelia wondered, thrown off by the
formality.
 
Who even says that anymore?
 
And Angelle was not what Amelia thought qualified as a ma’am.
 
She was too young, too pretty, too… well,
really not ma’am material.

Angelle, stuck out her arm and gently, but
firmly pushed Amelia back behind her.
 
“Erin Truscott, hmmm, that
does
sound familiar.”

Erin really didn’t seem to be bothered by
Angelle’s attitude.
 
She was acting as if
this was normal.
 
“I’ve lived in town for
a few years,” she said.

Angelle put her hands on her hips and
raised a questioning eyebrow.
 
“What do
you want with my little sister?”

“Angelle,” Amelia snapped, appalled.
 
She snuck out from behind Angelle and managed
to dodge Angelle’s attempt to stop her.
 
“I’m sorry about my friend.
 
I’m
Amelia.
 
Can I help you with something?”

“Wow, Amelia Caldwell in the flesh,” Erin
said, grinning like a fool.
 
“I can’t
believe I’m actually meeting you.
 
Your
favorite color is purple, you love animals and you’re majoring in mathematics
and specializing in mathematical finance, right?”

“Um, yup,” Amelia said.
 
The cashier came up, took the armload of
clothes from her and went back to the counter.
 
Amelia mouthed a
thank you
and
looked back at Erin, questioningly.
 
How
in the world did she know so much?
 
“Sorry, but have we met before?”

“Nope, you’re kinda a celebrity around here
and I’m in the same program at school.
 
Hey, you’re like a genius, right?
 
Maybe we can study together.
 
I
really suck at math.”
 
Erin rolled her
eyes and put up her hands, showing that she knew exactly how idiotic she
sounded and without taking a breath kept rambling on.
 
“I know, I know… why take it then,
right?”
 
She shrugged.
 
“Didn’t have a choice.
 
It was either take the program or don’t go at
all.
 
Then I would have to do the whole
getting a job and working thing and that really didn’t sound like much fun.”

Amelia gaped and eyeballed Erin in
disbelief.
 
She hadn’t thought it was
possible, but she might have just found someone that could give Angelle a run
for her money in the talking without breathing department.
 
Was every girl in this town super excited and
bubbly?
 
She hoped not, because living
with one, not that she would change it for the world, was more than enough.

“Erin,” Angelle interrupted, “Did you
really come in here to talk about school?”

“No ma’am,” she answered and the animation
on her face was replaced by the original nervousness.
 
“Sorry.
 
I was shopping,” Erin held up a blouse to prove she really was, “and
this girl came in when you guys were in the dressing room.
 
She was young and sorta sick looking, like
really pale and grayish.
 
She shoved this
at me.”
 
Erin handed a single long
stemmed rose to Amelia.
 
“She asked me to
give it to you with a message.”

“What message?” Angelle asked, impatience
tinting her tone.

“She said tell Amelia we’ve been waiting
for you.
 
I tried to tell her to do it
herself but she vanished before I could.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amelia
asked, twirling the rose between her fingers, inhaling deeply the sweet
fragrance.
 
At first glance she had
thought it was deep red, but on closer scrutiny, she realized that the large
velvety bloom was black as night.

“Not sure,” Erin shrugged.
 
“Like I said, she just vanished.
 
Never got a chance to ask.”

“Thank you, Erin,” Angelle said.
 
“Was that all?”

“Yes ma’am.
 
Sorry to bother you guys.
 
Maybe
I’ll see you at school, Amelia.”
 
Erin
turned to walk away.
 
But there was
something she had said that caught Amelia’s attention.
 
A girl with pale, grayish
skin.
 
Could it be?
 
The kid from this morning?
 
And if it was, why a black rose?
 
And why was she waiting for her?
 
Waiting for what?

“Hey wait a minute,” Amelia called after
her.
 
“You said it was a girl that looked
really pale.
 
Was she young, maybe eleven
or twelve with white-blonde straggly looking hair and really creepy looking?”

“Yeah, why?”
Erin asked, curiosity creeping up in her eyes.
 
“You know her?”

“Millie,” Angelle said, shoving another
stack of clothes at Amelia. “You’ve got to try this stuff on.”

Amelia sighed, loud and gusty and looked at
the heavy stack that had been dumped in her arms.
 
She smiled at Erin apologetically.
 
“I have to get back to the torture.
 
Thanks for the message.”

Erin nodded and darted out of the store,
leaving Amelia with more questions than answers.
 
Why couldn’t she just leave it alone?
 
Accept the rose and chalk it up to a nice
welcome to town kind of thing.
 
But who would
give a black rose as a welcome?
 
Black
never meant welcome.

Amelia caught Angelle before she could add
to the pile, grabbed her hand and towed her into the dressing room.
 
When they were in and the door was securely
closed, she dumped her burden onto the floor and shoved the rose in Angelle’s
face.
 
“What is this about?
 
What did that message mean?
 
Why did Erin say I’m like a celebrity?
 
How does she know my favorite color?
 
And what is your problem?”
 
The questions just poured out in a stream of
frustration; out of the top weirdest days ever, this one was sailing right on
past and kept sky rocketing upwards.

Angelle grinned.
 
“Of course everyone’s gonna know who you
are.
 
Mr. Lang owns half this town and in
case you missed it, you did just move into his house.
 
That’s pretty big news around here.
 
Now hurry up and try this stuff on.
 
We still have a few more stores to hit.”
 
She gave Amelia one of her overly bright
smiles, snagged the rose and zipped off over to the racks and started rummaging
through the clothes again.

Amelia stood there, watching Angelle
flutter around and listening to the chatter of the other shoppers, and all of a
sudden she wanted to cry.
 
It seemed
silly because everyone had been so nice to her.

She rubbed at her eyes, took a deep breath,
and closed the dressing room door to try on more clothes.

The clicking of the calculator was a
soothing sound as Mitchell punched in some figures, and it helped to ease some
of the tension that had built up in him during the last twenty-four hours.
 

This was what he needed.
 
To bury himself in work.
 
Keep his mind occupied.
 
Stay at the office.
 
And away from Amelia.
 

“Amelia,” he breathed and rubbed at his
face.
 
Staying away was torture and he
was sure that the pain it caused in his heart was worse than dying.

Mitchell sighed and forced himself back to
work.
 
He knew if he kept thinking about
her, he would drive himself crazy and that wouldn’t do either of them any
good.
 

In no time, he was back at it, buried in
the mound of work before him.
 
The
tension was slowly easing away and he was starting to feel normal, at
peace.
 

The peace was short lived.
 
Suddenly, his office door swung open,
cracking against the wall.
 
“
Yo
, pops, you work too much,” Eric said, that stupid half
grin spread across his face.
 
His green
punk style hair was sticking up every which way and he was wearing a gray
tracksuit.

Mitchell groaned, annoyed at the disruption
and leaned back in his chair.
 
“What are
you doing here, Eric?”
 
And what were
they thinking sending him?
 
He assumed
they probably figured he wouldn’t hurt Eric, but Mitchell wasn’t so sure.
 
If he couldn’t trust
himself with Amelia…

Pain flashed across Eric’s face.
 
“Do I need a reason to visit you?” he asked,
unsure of himself.

Shit,
Mitchell thought, annoyed, confused and all-round pissed off at
himself
.
 
“Of course
you don’t need a reason,” he said, desperately trying to sound welcoming.
 
He got up from his desk and gestured towards
the empty chairs in the corner.
 
“What’s
on your mind?”

Eric plopped down, stretching his legs out
and crossed them at the ankles.
 
He was
still so young and carefree.
 
Mitchell
wondered if Eric would ever be able to take his place.
 
Not that Eric knew yet, but that had been
Mitchell’s plan and Eric still had a long way to go before he was ready.

“What’s going on with you?
 
Angelle told me you lost it on her last
night.”

“It’s about time you guys learn your
place,” Mitchell said sternly, and instantly regretted it.
 

Eric’s face seemed to crumple at his harsh
words and his shoulders slouched.
 
“Dude,
did you really just say that?
 
What the
hell?”

Mitchell sighed, long and loud.
 
“You shouldn’t be here, Eric.
 
I…”

“Why are you doing this?” Eric asked.
 
His looked so desperate, so unsure of himself
that it pulled at Mitchell’s heart.
 
Eric
looked up to him, Mitchell knew that and dammit, he wasn’t setting the best
example for his child.
 
“She’s your
soulmate
.
 
Why are
you hiding from her?”

“It’s complicated.
 
You wouldn’t understand.”

“Fine,” Eric threw up his hands.
 
“You want to sit here and hide, then
fine.
 
But she’s really special and if
you wait too long something might happen.
 
Whatever it is, it pours from her and it is…” Eric licked his lips and a
dreamy look clouded his face.
 
“It’s
going to attract the others and if you don’t claim her soon you might not get a
chance to.”

“Eric, I know you think that I should be
there but I just can’t," Mitchell said carefully. “And to be honest, it
doesn’t really matter if I’m there or not.
 
They won’t touch her and I won’t bite her.” He spoke with so much
passion, that it almost seemed like he meant it.
  
He wanted to mean it but…No, he did mean
it.
 
And until he was sure that he could
trust himself, he would stay away.
  
“She
needs time.
 
I can’t push this on
her.
 
I won’t.”

“Dude, she’s broken.
 
What she needs is love.
 
Not time.
 
She needs a family.
 
She needs
friends,” Eric persisted.

Mitchell opened his mouth to speak but then
stopped. He couldn’t explain it all.
 
He
didn’t even understand it himself.
 
The
connection between them was already stronger than he had ever imagined and he
wasn’t even in the same house as her.
 
If
he couldn’t keep his emotions in check with his family, how the hell would he
be able to do it with Amelia?
 
He knew he
would never forgive himself if he let things get out of control.
 
It would only take a second and they would
both regret it.
 
He loved her too much to
let that happen.
 

Eric glared at him in disbelief, got up
from his chair and headed for the door.
 
At the doorway he turned back to face Mitchell.
 
“By the way, there was an incident this
morning.”

A cold sweat broke out along Mitchell’s
brow and his stomach clenched.
 
“What do
you mean an incident?” he asked, barely a whisper.
 
Something had happened to her.
 
It all made sense. That’s why they sent
Eric.
 

Eric must have noticed his panic.
 
“Chill out.
 
It’s not what you think,” he blurted out.
 
“Millie went for a run at like 5:00 this
morning and she claimed she ran into a little girl.
 
It sounded like
Kandi
.”

“But she’s okay?” Mitchell asked, holding
his breath.
 
It couldn’t have been
Kandi
.
 
They wouldn’t
think of coming back here.
 
Not after the
last time.
 

“Yup, Officer McLean found Amelia and
brought her home.
 
I had to make up some
stupid story about the curfew and break-ins.”
 
Eric’s expression turned serious and Mitchell held his breath.
 
“Dad, come home.
 
Please.
 
If you won’t do it for her, do it for me.
 
I can’t stay away from her and I need your
help.”

Mitchell felt like he had been slapped in
the face.
 
Eric hadn’t called him “Dad”
for over a hundred years now and the term of endearment pulled on every single
heartstring he had.
 
But even though he
wanted to cave in, he forced himself to stay strong on this, knowing he would
be no help to them by coming home.
 
And
maybe this could teach Eric some much-needed restraint.
 
Yes,
this is a good thing
, he told himself.
 
“I know you won’t touch her, Eric,” Mitchell said, encouragingly.
 
“Have a little more faith in yourself.”

Mitchell thought Eric was going to argue
with him, but then that goofy grin spread across his face again and he ran his
fingers through his hair, making the leafy green strands even more
disheveled.
 
“Sure, you’re probably
right.”
 
And then he slipped out the
doorway.