The Soul's Mark: HUNTED (8 page)

“See you around,” Cole called after her, and Amelia gave a quick wave. 
Okay, not a local,
she thought as she retreated.  If he was from around here, he surely would have known about the mark.  She jumped in the car, soaked to the bone.

“Who was that?” Tyler asked, as Amelia fastened her seat belt.

Amelia shrugged.  “He said his name was Cole.  To be honest, I really don’t remember him, but he wanted to return this.”  Amelia pulled the envelope out of her purse and flashed it for the others to see.

“What is it?” Eric asked.  He snatched it from her hands and ripped it open.  “A DVD?”

Amelia grabbed it back and gave him a playful punch.  He chuckled.  “I guess,” she said, looking it over.  It was in a little white sleeve with no labels.  “It’s probably just notes from class or something.  I must have leant it.”  That was the best explanation she could come up with.  It made sense though, since she always burned her notes onto a disk just in case.  Computers were great, but they weren’t reliable, and she had learned firsthand what happens when they crash.

It was still raining steadily when they got home, and it didn’t look like it would let up anytime soon.  Not that she minded the rain.  It was April, and the rainfall had chased off the horrible heat wave from the week before.  After changing out of her drenched clothes, Amelia settled down in the media room to watch a movie.  She settled on a sappy romance and curled up on one of the beanbag chairs.  Still chilled from the rain, she pulled a throw around herself.

She was too restless, annoyed, and frustrated to notice the movie, and before she knew it, her thoughts drifted to Mitchell.  She wanted to be mad and jealous and hurt, but all she could think about was Angelle’s
seduce Mitchell plan.
  Could Tyler be right?  Was Mitchell just holding back and waiting for her to make the first move?  Amelia wished she knew, but she didn’t, and the whole idea of his possible rejection made her stomach flip in somersaults. 

“Did you have a nice time with Eric?” Mitchell asked from the doorway.

For a second, Amelia thought about ignoring him, closing her eyes, and pretending to be asleep.  Instead, she clenched her teeth and glared.  “Enough!  I’ve had more than I can take of this crap between you guys.  Get over it already.  I kissed Eric.  It was like eight months ago, and it was just a stupid kiss.”

She held her breath for a scared moment, feeling the blood rush from her cheeks as she realized what she had actually said.  None of them had really talked about it, and she had never fully admitted the kiss to Mitchell before.  He knew about it.  He had seen it over and over, replaying her memory through the bond, like a slow torture.

He pulled the door shut behind him and crossed the room, taking up the empty beanbag chair beside her.  “I wasn’t trying to fight with you,” Mitchell said, fixing his gaze on the movie.  “I was just asking.”

“Oh,” she responded lamely, totally lost for words.  It was unexpected, but man, did she ever feel stupid at that moment.

After a long, incredibly awkward and painfully silent moment, Mitchell pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, pressing her against his lithe body.  “I love you,” he murmured.  “I love you more than anything in this world.”  He leaned in and kissed her turbulently, with such a need and urgency that it made something in her growl, deep within her gut.  This was nothing like the soft, teasing kisses they usually shared.  The passion ripped through her.  Her body tingled and she tried to get closer, burying her hands in his hair.

The kiss only lasted seconds, but when they came up for air, they were both panting.  Mitchell shifted his hungry gaze away from her and licked his swollen lips.  “I have to go out,” he whispered so quietly, that if it hadn’t been for their bond, she wouldn’t have heard the words.  As it was, she had only felt them, and it felt as if he had kicked her in the ribs, knocking the air out of her.  Was he really going to come in here and kiss her like
that
and then leave?  “You don’t understand,” he said desperately when he felt her reaction.  “It’s not what you think.”

Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it when no sound came out.  She wanted to stand up and move away from him, but her knees felt weak and shaky, and she didn’t trust them to hold her weight.  Not yet anyways.  Her eyes started to burn, and she wanted to cry, but she sucked it back, determined not to let him see how much she was hurting, and she let the anger take her over.  “Then enlighten me because, seriously, the guilt that’s pouring off you doesn’t give me much to believe here.”

A cool, calm remoteness settled upon his face as he realized that Fiona was what was bothering her so much.  “Believe whatever you want, Amelia.  Now you know how I feel.  With Eric and you and your stupid rules, why don’t you break them and see if I’m telling the truth?  Go ahead and look.”

Amelia was about to.  She really wanted to dig in and find something, anything to justify her anger.  But then she got a quick flash of a thought.  He wanted her to break the rule, give him a free pass to confirm his suspicions about her and Eric, and she would be damned if she was going to give him that.  She pulled herself out of his lap and turned her attention back to the television, pretending to watch the movie.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him get up and shuffle back and forth for a few minutes, and then he sighed and left her alone.

CHAPTER 7

Where the hell am I?
Eric wondered as he took in his surroundings.  He turned around slowly, hoping to pick out something he recognized on the dark suburban street.

On each side of him were small cookie-cutter houses, all with the same long driveways and little front gardens.  As he continued to turn, he caught sight of the glowing Willowberg Blood Bank sign at the end of the street, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  He was still in Willowberg.

But how did I get here?
  He didn’t know.  The last thing he remembered, he had been in his room reading up on ghosts, trying to find a way to contact Megan.  He was sure she was dead.  It seemed like this could be the only logical explanation to the strange dreams.  If she wasn’t dead, then he would be able to feel her presence, and he couldn’t.  Not like before.  He had been in bed.  The sun had just started to set and…  “I fell asleep,” he whispered.  His heart jumped with excitement.  “Megan?” he called.  He spun around, frantically scanning the neighborhood.

Nothing.  No Megan.  The street was whisper quiet.  His heart plummeted.  Was it possible that he wasn’t sleeping?  Everything around him seemed so real.  The pavement beneath his feet, the cool night breeze ruffling his hair, the fresh, dewy scent.

It has to be a dream,
he thought as he started down the sidewalk heading towards the blood bank, moving quickly, but keeping his eyes peeled as he moved along the street.  The silence seemed to sink deeper.  He couldn’t even hear the sound of his shoes smacking against the pavement.

Then suddenly out of nowhere a white light flourished in front of him, growing brighter and brighter.  Eric’s heartbeat sped up.  It reminded him of the movies, and he could almost hear someone say,
walk into the light.
  He peered into it, letting his eyes gradually adjust.  In the center, a shadow materialized. 
Megan,
was the first thing that popped into his mind.  Maybe she traveled in the light?  Spirits did that, right?

The shadow moved closer, filling out and taking substance.  Eric blinked.  Standing in front of him was Mitchell, looking straight at him, with such an intensity it was as if he was looking through him.  Eric’s jaw dropped, literally.  Why would he dream of Mitchell?

“Mitchell,” a girl yelled from behind him, and Eric spun around just in time to see Amelia launch herself at him, her face glowing with a huge smile.

Eric didn’t have time to react, and in that second he knew Amelia was going to jump on him, but then, she didn’t.  One second she was flying through the air at him and the next she was passing right through him.

“What’s wrong, love,” Mitchell said.

Eric pivoted around, and he gasped.  “How the hell did you do that?”  he asked, taking a giant step back.  They didn’t even glance at him.

“I can’t believe I found you,” Amelia cried, clinging onto Mitchell for all she was worth.  “I’ve been looking for days.”

Mitchell stroked her fiery red hair and kissed the top of her head.  “I’ve only been out a few hours, Amelia.”

Eric didn’t know what to do.  His throat felt tight and uncomfortable as he watched the intimate moment between his father and Amelia, but he couldn’t seem to turn away.  Why was he dreaming of Amelia and Mitchell?

And then something occurred to him.  Amelia’s hair was brown.  This wasn’t Amelia.  This was…

“Who’s Amelia?”

Eric rocketed up, his feet landing on the floor with a thud and his blankets dropping to his feet.  He kicked them away and ran to his bedroom door.  “Millie,” he hollered, throwing it open and running to the media room next door.  “Millie, where’s Mitch?”

CHAPTER 8

Amelia was working hard to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was the size of an apple, and it seemed to be growing bigger by the second.  She tried to remind herself that she had chosen a horror flick to keep her mind off Mitchell’s rejection, but her bulging eyes and thumping heart didn’t seem to want to remember.

Suddenly, the floor beneath her shuddered as if it was about to give way, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.  Before she fully stood up, a frantic and rumpled looking Eric was charging in.  “Millie, where’s Mitch?” he yelled, eyes crimson and sharp, glistening fangs extended.

Amelia cast an involuntary terrified look at him.  “I’m…I’m not sure,” she stammered and retreated back a few paces.

“Well find him,” Eric growled.  The look he gave her was savage, and he advanced on her like a stealthy jungle cat, stalking its unsuspecting prey.  “Find him now!”

Eric smashed his fist against the wall; it vibrated from the force of his blow, and Amelia scampered back further, suddenly feeling like a trapped and frantic little mouse.

Amelia hesitated for a few seconds, feeling the building energy course through her veins.  Her heart was racing, and her whole body shook, but the last thing she wanted to do was attack him.  Something was wrong.  He wasn’t thinking and she was absolutely sure he would not, under any circumstances, hurt her.  It wasn’t until Eric leapt at her that she realized he had completely lost his mind.  In a split second, she tossed up a shield, and he crashed into it, bouncing back across the room.

He was back up in seconds and growled.  The manic look in his eyes intensified as he stalked towards her.

“Eric, what’s wrong with you?” she screeched, as he started to pound against the shield.  It sagged and strained against his blows.  Beads of sweat trickled over Amelia’s brow as she fought against the attack, desperately trying to keep the shield in place.  Her knees trembled with exertion, and she panted for air.

“Where is he?” Eric yelled, and his eyes burned brighter.

Suddenly, Luke crashed into the room, tackling Eric to the floor.  Amelia collapsed onto the ground gasping for air, and the shield crumbled around her.

She heard a loud clatter and swiveled around.  Through the debris of wood and white powder, she saw Luke and Eric sprawled out on the floor in Eric’s room, a massive hole in the drywall where they had crashed through.  Before she could move, they were both back up on their feet, circling each other and snarling like beasts.

“Do you have a death wish?” Luke growled, as they continued to dance around each other.

Eric snarled and then made his first move, but Luke saw his attack coming and sidestepped just before Eric’s fist could connect.  Eric lost his footing and stumbled.  Luke took advantage of this, and in a flash, he had Eric in a headlock.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Luke demanded, tightening his grip around Eric’s neck.

Eric stopped struggling.  “I need to find Mitchell,” he said in a shaky, unsure voice.  “And she won’t help me,” he continued, glaring at Amelia.

“Eric,” Amelia started in a soft voice, trying to be as unthreatening as possible.  She got up and started to move forward on shaky legs.

Luke cut her off and fixed his blazing eyes on her.  “Call him and stop being so damn stubborn,” he said ruthlessly.  Amelia didn’t know what to do, and she froze, jaw dropped, and gawked.  “I said call him!”

She didn’t have to be told again.  Not that she really had to be told the first time, but man, they were terrifying and, well, she had frozen.  She focused on Mitchell, picturing his blue smiling eyes and his velvety voice. 
Mitchell, can you come home?
she sent the shaky thought through the link.

He responded immediately. 
I’m in the driveway.

Amelia cleared her throat and edged towards the door.  “He’s, um, in the driveway,” she said hesitantly.  “Can I…”

A gust of wind cut her off and she jumped.  Eric was gone.  “Can you explain to me why Eric, of all people, just attacked you?” Luke asked, his probing eyes scanning every inch of her.  He folded his arms over his chest, blocking the door and waiting for an answer.

“I don’t have a clue,” Amelia replied, sounding as dumbstruck as she felt.  “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”  She attempted a smile, but she was sure it fell flat.

Luke sighed and gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her.  He gestured towards the door.  “Well, come on, kiddo.  Let’s go see what this is all about.”  Amelia took a step forward and was stopped by Luke’s tight grip on her shoulder.  He leaned in and whispered a firm warning in her ear. “You know Mitchell will rip him apart if he finds out about this, right?”

Unable to make her voice work, Amelia nodded.  After an agonizingly long second, Luke released his grip and ruffled her hair.  “You sure know how to drive those two crazy, kiddo.”