Thoughts buzzed around her brain painfully loud, and another pull heaved against her body, dragging her along the floor towards the door.
Suddenly, Amelia couldn’t breathe, and she realized the damper was what had been blocking her bond to Mitchell. She tried to call to him, but neither her voice nor her brain could form the words. He was sifting through her memories so quickly that she couldn’t even pinpoint what he was seeing before he moved on to the next.
Cole’s laugh reverberated through the room, and when Amelia looked up, he was looming above her. She tried to scream, but the only sound she managed was a hiss as the last bit of air escaped her lungs. Her throat swelled shut, her magic dissipated as her panic threatened to take over, and her lungs burned.
“Don’t look so scared, Amelia,” Cole said. “You’re the one that created this whole mess.” He reached a hand out towards her, and for a second, Amelia thought he was going to grab her. She gasped; air hit her lungs hard and fast, and she tried to get up. Golden strands of power rushed at her, weaving together, and forming an arm, as if his hand was growing and being replaced by the magic. Long talon-like claws sprung from its fingers, ready to swipe at her. Amelia jumped back, Mitchell’s thoughts dimmed, and her heart raced. She tried to gather up her energy and launch a counter attack.
The claws sunk into her chest quickly, and a turbulent wave of power slammed into her. It was paralyzing; all Amelia could do was stare wide-eyed at her own wisps of white-blue magic as it seeped from her body, through the hand, and into Cole.
He moaned, and his eyes drooped. “Josh said you were strong, but this is amazing,” Cole murmured. His breathing became heavy, and when his eyes met Amelia’s, she saw something dark, far darker than anything she could have imagined seeing in another person. It was destructive and cold and verging on sadistic.
Amelia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Hot agonizing pain washed over her, her legs gave way, and she fell back down to her knees.
Cole threw his head back and shouted, “Past lives that have gone astray, show us.”
The air rippled like disturbed water, and suddenly Amelia was staring at a disheveled image of herself. Tears streaked the girl’s dirty cheeks, leaving muddy streams down her face. She looked down, falling to her knees, and she screamed, a heartbroken sound, as she buried her face in a thick chest.
“This is where it all started,” Cole said, his voice low and strained. He dug the claw deeper into Amelia’s chest, and the stream of magic that he was pulling from her quickened. She screamed out as a fresh wave of hot pain convulsed through her body.
The girl in the image continued to wail and sob. Amelia struggled to watch herself through her own agony. The girl pulled someone into her arms, and her lips met his in a soft kiss. “I’ll avenge your death, Mitchell. I swear I’ll make this right.”
Cole gasped, and Amelia’s blood ran cold. “No!” he shouted. “He’s not supposed to be part of this.”
Amelia zoned out Cole’s frantic screams, and she focused on the image. There he was. Mitchell. Lying dead in her arms, a chunk of flesh ripped from his neck.
The claw retracted from her chest, and Cole frantically swiped at the smoky image in the room, as if he was trying to brush it away. Amelia pulled herself from the ground; steamy power rushed from her body hitting Cole with such a force that he flew across the room and smacked against the wall. She cinched a thick strand of magic around his throat and held him tight.
The vision of herself caressed Mitchell’s cheek lovingly and then gently laid him down in the grassy field. She rose, and power crackled through the air like an electric current. Tendrils of white light shot from her skin, and thick black smoke wove around them. Her curly locks blew wildly around her face, and her dress whipped about.
“I call upon the spirits to hear my plea. My lover has died at the hand of a demon. In the name of Mother Nature, I call the souls for the entire vampire race. Come to me.”
The wind picked up around her, and dark clouds rolled overhead. Booming thunder shook the sky. “The vampires will suffer the loss of their souls as I suffer the loss of mine,” she hissed, as she scanned the area around her. Suddenly, hundreds of ghostly images floated towards her from all sides of the meadow where she stood, and a twisted smile spread upon her face. She flung her hands wide and said, “I cast you out to wander the earth. I curse thee to suffer and to never be whole again. I curse thee. I curse thee. I curse thee!” she shouted, lifting her hands above her head. Bolts of power shot to the sky, and the ground beneath her trembled and shook.
A war cry ripped from her body, and she fell to her knees; blackness radiated from her skin, thick and oily. One by one, the shadowy souls dispersed, propelling themselves into the sky.
The wind stopped. The sky cleared. The sun shone brightly down on Amelia’s past self, but the darkness that surrounded her remained, engulfing her in a dirty cloud.
“You have abused the power of the first coven, Amelia,” a soft, lilting voice drifted through the air. “You have used the powers of Mother Nature for dark purposes.”
Amelia searched the image for the source of the voice, but there was no one other than her past self and Mitchell’s lifeless body at her feet.
The vision of Amelia didn’t look up when she spoke. “Demons do not deserve souls.” Her voice was cold and demented, and the darkness thickened around her. “I did what had to be done.”
“You have called upon me to use dark magic,” the voice said gently. “And for that I should strip you of your gifts.”
Deep sobs escaped the vision of Amelia, and she crumpled to the ground and curled herself into a small ball, rocking as the tears fell. A bright figure, a woman, drifted towards her. The brilliance of the light shone blinding, and Amelia couldn’t make out more than a woman’s frame. She hovered over herself from the past and said, “Child, loss is a painful part of life, but you need to remember the body may die, but the soul never does. He‘ll always be here. All you need to do is open your heart, and you’ll know how to find him. Look inside yourself.”
Those words shook Amelia violently. She had heard them before. And that voice … So familiar, yet oddly different. Where had she heard this before? The vision began to fade, and her thoughts blurred together. Whose voice was that? Who was helping her? Who was Mother Nature?
The bright glow around Mother Nature intensified, and her voice changed to one of magnificent power as she spoke. “Lost souls hear me. Find your other half and bind together. Through the mark of the soul, let the vampire find a link to humanity, and let them find love through their mate.”
“No,” Amelia’s tortured screams pierced the still meadow. “Mother Nature, please let them suffer as I do. Please,” she begged.
“Through my work here today, you will find love again. When you do, you will understand child.” And then the vision was gone.
A loud thumping at the door pulled Amelia’s eyes away from the place in the air that the vision had been. The wooden door slammed open, and Josh rushed in. His gray eyes hardened as he looked between Amelia and Cole who was still pinned against the wall. He mumbled something incoherent, and then suddenly the shackles snapped around her wrists and her ankles. Her stream of magic evaporated, and Cole fell to the ground. The world around her faded, turning gray, and then drifting darker until the blackness seized her.
CHAPTER 9
His chest hurt. A sharp pain was pushing from the inside, trying to break free from his ribcage. Mitchell glanced down, and rubbed at the spot. A strong pull at his torso knocked him off balance, he stumbled, and then he saw it.
A golden chain. It burst from his chest, linking together and building as it stretched onward, passing through the window and disappearing in the trees. A buzz filled his head, like a swarm of bees, and his breath caught in his throat.
Amelia! he shouted, as the image surfaced in his line of vision, and he saw one of the filthy cross-breeds moving in on her. As soon as he did, he regretted it.
He had meant to warn her, but instead he only managed to distract her, and she fell to her knees.
A hand squeezed his shoulder and began shaking him. “Mitch, what’s happening?” Luke’s voice had a rough edge.
“The bond,” Mitchell gasped, locking eyes with him. “I can see Amelia.”
The golden chain jutted from her ribcage, and another forceful tug pulled at him. Amelia slid across the floor as if someone had gripped onto her upper body and was dragging her.
Mitchell didn’t waste another second. He could feel her trying to speak to him, but the thoughts were coming out as single syllables instead of words. He shuffled through her thoughts and memories until he found her location. “She’s at Tristan’s old house,” he growled. Rage, fear, and hair-raising panic all fought against each other, colliding together within him in a mess of emotion.
“Is Megan with her?” Eric asked frantically.
Mitchell closed his eyes, surveying the room and looking for any sign of Megan or Erin. He caught sight of the large television and shuddered. Before he could say anything, a hand with long, glowing talon-like claws dug into Amelia’s chest. And then he saw Amelia but not Amelia. It was her, but she was different. Younger. Ragged. She dropped to her knees, burying her face in someone’s chest.
And then he saw the face. His face. “I’m dead,” he whispered, his eyes fixated on the bloody hole in his neck. Amelia, but not Amelia, stood up, and the magic crackled about her.
“I call upon the spirits to hear my plea,” she said, her voice cracking on the words, and another chill ran over Mitchell. “My lover has died at the hand of a demon. In the name of Mother Nature, I call the souls for the entire vampire race. Come to me.”
Mitchell’s eyes snapped open, and he tried to shake the memory away. He could still feel it, playing out behind his eyes, but he fought against it. He didn’t need to see anymore. He knew what would happen next.
Someone slapped him. Hard. Hard enough that his vision faded. Hard enough that his jaw cracked. “Amelia cast the soulmate curse because of me,” he whispered, as if saying it out loud would make his brain realize how absurd it was.
“What?” Angelle asked.
Mitchell looked at Angelle, but all he could see was Amelia. He turned from his family and started weaving through the hallways towards the door. “She is the witch that took away our souls,” Mitchell called over his shoulder.
From Amelia’s memories, he was sure it was just the two hybrids and Tristan guarding them. He knew Tristan would be easy enough to take out, but the hybrids … Amelia had said it was their skin that made them vulnerable. If he was careful, he could sneak up on them, and dispose of them.
“No, not that part,” Angelle said, falling into step beside him. “What did you mean because of you?”
“I think I was her lover,” Mitchell said, relaying the information. He didn’t want to think about it, he couldn’t, because if he did, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to do what he needed to do. “The one from the writings that was killed by a vampire.”
Mitchell threw the front door open and stepped outside. “Dude,” Tyler called. “Wait, what’s your plan? You can’t just barge in. You’ll get them killed.”
Tyler had his keys in his hand and stone cold determination etched on his face. “That’s why you’re not coming.” Then Mitchell glanced at Sally who looked just as determined to help as Tyler. “And neither are you.” They both looked as if they were about to protest, and Mitchell raised his hand to silence them. “Neither of you can sneak in and out undetected, but we can.”
“What about Meg?” Eric asked, and then as an afterthought, he rushed on, “Did you see Erin?” His skin had taken on a greenish tone that almost matched his hair.
Mitchell nodded. “They are alive, if that’s what you’re asking. Tristan locked them up together in a cage. They’re both in rough shape.”
“What?” Tyler asked. “Why?”
“He’s giving Meg to Erin as food,” Eric breathed with realization, filling in the words that Mitchell couldn’t voice out loud.
And then Mitchell, Angelle, Luke, and Lola launched forwards, running at vampire speed. Mitchell heard Sally’s voice float through the air, “Tyler, get in the car. They’ll need help.” But he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, and he kept running.
CHAPTER 10
Amelia’s head hurt. It was a pounding kind of pain, one that radiated through her body with each thumping throb. She opened her eyes, and then squeezed them shut again against the bright light that hung above her.
“Cole, she created us!” Josh yelled. Amelia squealed in alarm from the sudden sound. He must not have noticed though, because he kept on with his tirade. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Created them? Amelia was sure she had heard that wrong. But then, hadn’t Tristan insinuated something along those lines earlier? Or was that yesterday? Whenever it was, it didn’t really matter. What mattered now was that there was a memory, or maybe it was a thought, something, and it was on the cusp of breaking through the throbbing barrier of pain that coated her skull. And it seemed important, possibly even life changing. She knew that if she could just grasp onto it, she could fix everything.
Amelia blinked against the burning light, and her eyes slowly adjusted with every flutter of her lashes. She tried to sit up, but when she moved, she quickly realized that she was tied up again; the metal-like chains around her wrists, which clamped her arms to the bedrails, were warm, infused with pulsing magic.
“Yesterday you pointed an arrow at her and threatened to kill her, and now you’re going to yell at me for using her magic. Get a grip,” Cole said. Was that a tremor she heard in his voice? Amelia swiveled her head towards the voices.
Josh was pacing in front of the door with his back to her. His fists were balled so tightly they looked like white rocks, and Amelia could almost see the steam rising from his reddened neck. “You’re letting that bloodsucker control you,” he growled.
“I’m not letting anyone control me, and I’m not going to bow to her either.” Yes, it was a tremor, Amelia realized, and it was becoming more defined with every word Cole spoke. He pushed off from the wall he had been leaning on, and placed a shaky hand on Josh’s shoulder. “She’s switched sides, man. The paradise life you’ve been dreaming of isn’t going to happen. She’s too far gone now.”
“I was made for her,” Josh breathed, and his shoulders sagged. “She’ll remember. And if you touch her again, I’ll kill you.” The words should have sounded threatening, but they didn’t. Instead, Josh sounded sad, and disappointed, and his strained voice made Amelia think that he was on the verge of tears.
She guessed his expression didn’t match his tone, because Cole blanched and quickly dropped his hand. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. “Ummm, sorry, I was out of line. I just … I figured she should know she was the witch that set the curse in motion. If she knew, then maybe she’d just break it for us.”
Amelia felt hot and cold and sick. This can’t be happening. It just can’t. None of this was possible. The curse, or the gift, or the … whatever the stupid soulmate bond was, she was certain that she had nothing to do with it. She couldn’t have. Her mind reeled, shifting from past to present with a nauseating quickness that made her head spin and her mouth water. The vision of Mitchell’s stiff and lifeless body lying at her feet made and her stomach heaved.
“She cast the spell because of him,” Josh seethed, his anger rising up again, and his shoulders and back stiffened. “Mitchell was her damn lover! They’ve been chasing after each other for centuries, and now because of you, she knows it.”
No! That’s what Amelia wanted to scream. She even opened her mouth to do it, but the only sound that came out was a choked hiss. How was it even possible that she could have cast the spell? The image of herself from the past floated around her head. She was dark with tendrils of slithering blackness escaping from her skin. And she looked…broken.
“I’m sorry,” Co
le said. His voice quivered loudly, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t know.”
Amelia took a few deep breaths, swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, and cleared her throat dramatically loud. “Hold up, why is he calling you sir?” She knew it was probably the least important thing to ask, but out of everything else, it seemed to also make the least amount of sense. Wasn’t Cole supposed to be the ringleader?
Josh was at Amelia’s side in a flash. His hand laced with hers, and he was giving her one of those looks. It was full of sympathy and caution, and it was overwhelming and seriously confusing.
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb in slow circles. The air grew heavy, and her skin tingled from his touch.
“Let go of my hand,” Amelia spat, fighting against whatever magic he was trying to use on her. She narrowed her eyes and snarled, “Doesn’t it bother you that the only reason I’m giving you the time of day is because of a spell? FYI, I’d rather die than give into it.”
For a quick second, Amelia was sure she saw heartbreak in those gray eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t be certain. He was staring down at her with a cold intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “He calls me sir because I’m older than him by a few hundred years.”
Suddenly, Amelia wished she had never opened her eyes. She figured she should have expected something like this. Things that seemed illogical and absolutely impossible had somehow become her new normal. It really shouldn’t have been a shock that Josh had been around awhile, or that she was the witch that cast the spell, but it was still too much all at once. She wanted to just accept what he was saying. She didn’t want to know anymore than she already did, but she couldn’t stop the question from coming out. “But … but …” she started, stuttering over the words. She swallowed hard, and tried again. “Cole grew up with Meg. How …?” Amelia couldn’t finish the question, because really, she wasn’t even sure what she was trying to ask.
Soul's Mark 3: Broken Page 6