Mitchell rubbed at his face, guilt and shame rushing around him, making him feel sick. “I know. Dammit! It’s like everything is spiraling out of control and I can’t think straight.” He took a few calming breaths. “She hates me you know and I don’t blame her. I don’t know how to fix this. Maybe she’d be better off if I didn’t exist.”
“Don’t,” Luke snarled, not missing the hidden message behind Mitchell’s words.
“I have to do something. Neither of us can continue like this. What if I can’t stop myself next time?” Mitchell raised his eyebrows in question. “What happens then? She doesn’t even know what she’s doing. She doesn’t realize that every time she gets mad she’s throwing her power at me. When she throws it at me, I lose control. It’s too strong. It hurts too much. The bond, the feelings, everything. It’s just too much.” Mitchell lifted his shirt to reveal reddened skin covered in welts and blisters.
Luke gasped. “She did that? Shit, it looks like burns.”
Mitchell tugged his shirt back down and shrugged, “It’s not too bad. It’ll heal but one of us is going to kill the other if we keep this up. I have to go.”
Luke sat back down beside Mitchell. “You wouldn’t just be leaving her,” he whispered in a shock-filled voice. “What about Eric? He’s your kid. Are you going to just walk out on him, too?”
“After what just happened, he’ll be glad to get rid of me.”
Luke shook his head in disagreement. “You’re his idol. You know damn well he won’t let you go.” Luke’s eyes drifted down to Mitchell’s chest and then back up, filled with a new intensity. “We’ll help her control it. We can teach her. You need to tell her what she is. She needs to know.”
Mitchell thought about that, wondering if it would make any difference. Amelia hated him. He was sure of it. He could feel sparks of love from her but most of the feelings were blinding hatred. She even hated how sometimes she loved him. He knew he was griping at straws, but maybe if she knew, they could fix it all together. With that thought, he smiled. “I will. Tomorrow, when everyone calms down, I’ll tell her everything.”
CHAPTER 20
It took fourteen minutes and nine seconds for Eric to come back, or wake up. Amelia thought that sounded better, less disturbing, that was for sure. She sat on the cold, hard floor with his head in her lap, her eyes constantly checking the big grandfather clock as it ticked away the seconds.
After the first five minutes, Luke had managed to calm Mitchell down enough to get him out of the room but for some reason, his absence didn’t help. Amelia could still feel him and the distance was unbearable. She had to intensely focus on not running out of the room after him. Why did she have to feel this way? She wished she could understand it, but she just couldn’t. How could two people be tied together like this?
Amelia was so busy trying to forget about Mitchell that when Angelle spoke she flinched, having forgotten that she wasn’t alone. “Mabel, you really should go,” she urged. Angelle was sitting beside Amelia braiding her hair.
The older women looked at Amelia, her brow furrowed and arms crossed. She looked conflicted, Amelia thought, like she wanted to run from the house screaming but was bound by a duty to stay. “I’m not leaving her,” she said. “Amelia needs one of her own on her side through this.” One of her own? Amelia raised a questioning eyebrow, not sure what to say. “A human, Amelia. You need a human on your side.”
Angelle sighed—long and sad—she looked genuinely hurt. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She’s my sister.” She ran her fingers through Amelia’s hair, loosening the braid, and started again.
“Don’t call me your sister,” Amelia murmured. She wanted to move away from Angelle but she didn’t want to disturb Eric. “We’re not sisters. A sister wouldn’t betray me like you did. She wouldn’t stand by and watch me suffer. You let me believe that I was crazy. I told you everything and you let me continue to think that it was a dream. If you really cared about me, really thought of me like a sister, you would have told me the truth.”
Angelle’s hands stilled on her hair, and Amelia risked a glance at her. A small tear slid down Angelle’s cheek, leaving behind a thin, glistening trail. “I wanted to tell you. Please believe me. I really wanted to.”
Amelia didn’t want to care. She didn’t want to believe it and she didn’t want to accept that there was any excuse that would convince her, but she asked anyways. “Why didn’t you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You’ve got to give me something here,” Amelia pleaded. She looked back down at Eric’s lifeless form, ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheek. “Give me a reason to believe you.” Because, despite what her brain was saying, she really did want to believe Angelle.
Angelle stayed quiet for a moment, and the idea that she wasn’t going to explain stung. Amelia really wanted to believe that Angelle was her friend, that she had some kind of rationale for hiding Mitchell from her.
Another silent minute passed and Amelia glanced at her. As their eyes met, the words suddenly came out of Angelle in a rush. “Mitchell is the oldest. That makes him the strongest. I can’t fight him. None of us can. We wouldn’t stand a chance. But it’s more than that. He’s a good man, Amelia. He has done so much for me. For all of us. So when he asked me to wait to tell you, I did. I owe him my life and all he wanted was for you to get a chance to settle in, make some friends, get used to us before we told you. He thought it would make it easier for you.” When Angelle finished she went back to braiding Amelia’s hair distractedly. “If I thought for a second that you were in danger I would’ve stepped in.” She uttered the last words with such fervor that Amelia knew it was true.
“But you already let the worst happen, my dear,” Mabel said, reminding them she was still there. “Have you forgotten about Derek? About all the pain and heartbreak that was caused by your actions. The very same actions Mitchell has taken?”
“Who’s Derek?” Amelia asked.
Angelle ignored her, and suddenly the braid went from loose to pinching tight. She was just about to ask again, when Angelle hissed, “This is nothing like Derek, Mabel, and you know it. Amelia loves him. She doesn’t want to admit it yet but she does and he would do anything for her.”
“He’s letting the devil take control of him,” Mabel said. Amelia was thunderstruck. Sweet-tempered, motherly Mabel was glaring so hard at Angelle it made Amelia nearly cringe. Angelle’s braid was so tight now that it felt like her hair was being ripped out, and the lump on her head was not making it any easier to stay still, but her desire to know more made her resist the urge to jerk away. “He can’t be trusted with her,” Mabel continued. “Not yet. And she needs someone to look after her. Someone who will stand up to him, not cower behind a magazine while he’s choking her.”
“Does she look hurt to you?” Angelle shouted. “Are there any bruises on her neck? Your family has been with him for seven centuries and you have been with him for sixty-one years now. Has he ever threatened you? Or put himself before anyone human or vampire?”
“This is different,” Mabel said relentlessly. Amelia had never thought of Mabel as a stubborn woman before, but she was now. “Remember how you felt, Angelle. She doesn’t just hold his soul, she is his core. The connection between them is stronger than I have ever seen, even stronger than Luke and Lola. A connection like that can be dangerous. It plays with their minds. There is a fine line between love and hate and Mitchell is not used to anyone outright defying him. And our little Amelia is a strong one.” She looked over at Amelia, pride illuminating her round features. “The light shines bright in her. If she keeps fighting him, and I’m sure she will, he may lose control. All it takes is a second and they will both regret it.”
That’s when Eric stirred. The conversation between the women stopped abruptly as his neck straightened, snapping and popping, and his eyelids twitched. “Mabel, grab some blood,” Angelle ordered. She dropped Amelia’s hair and pushed her back. “S
orry sweetie, but he’s gonna be hungry and I don’t want him to make a mistake.”
Mabel tossed a bag of blood to Angelle and then pulled Amelia back further. Why? Amelia was sure that he wouldn’t hurt her. Not Eric. She watched with a mix of fascination and horror as Eric sprung back to life. One second, his eyelids were fluttering and the next he was on his feet, snarling savagely. Angelle held him easily with one hand; arms locked behind his back and held the bag of blood in front of him, dangling it like a T-bone in front of a dog. Like an animal, he tore into it, sucking and slurping. It was bloodcurdling and nauseating and if Amelia hadn’t been so petrified, she almost certainly would have lost her cookies.
Halfway through the bag Angelle released his arms while he continued to devour the thick, red liquid. His eyes slowly turned from fiery red back to their beautiful, vibrant green and his skin took on a light pink flush.
When he had sucked the bag bone-dry, Eric pitched it into the sink and rolled his neck. The room echoed with a pair of stomach-churning cracks, like the snap of celery sticks. “Dammit,” he said and rubbed his face. “I hate it when that happens. Where the hell is he?”
No one answered him, so Amelia searched the link—stunned at how normal it felt—to find Mitchell. “In my room,” she answered. Eric looked mad. She guessed he had a right to be; Mitchell had broken his neck but even though he was justified, she felt an insistent urge to defend Mitchell. “He’s with Luke. He’s sorry,” she stuttered, hoping that may help.
“Like hell he is!” Eric yelled at her. “He’s probably wishing I was dead. You probably wouldn’t care much either,” he spat at Amelia with so much hostility that she came close to bolting. She shuddered uncontrollably, mustering all her will to force herself to stay put and not reveal her fright.
“You know that’s not true, Eric.” Angelle put a hand on his shoulder. “Amelia sat here holding you the whole time. But you went too far with her. You know it. Seriously, what were you thinking getting in between them? Did you really think he was just going to let you stop him and walk away with her?”
“At least he tried to stop it,” Mabel snapped.
Angelle rolled her eyes and huffed. “He wasn’t going to hurt her,” she sounded exasperated and defeated.
“She wasn’t breathing,” Eric countered.
Amelia watched the three of them yell at each other. She knew it was tacky, but she smiled inwardly. This was all for her. They cared. All of them. They were at each other's throats about what they thought was best for her. Then it hit her; they were fighting about her and that just wasn’t okay. “Um, guys, I’m fine,” she said, a bit louder than she had hoped, and she felt her neck burn with a creeping blush. “I think Angelle’s right. I really don’t think Mitch wanted to hurt me.”
“Amelia you really need to take this seriously,” Mabel cautioned, giving a stern look. “Mitchell’s a vampire. He’s a killer and you are pushing him over the edge whether you mean to or not.”
As if he knew they were talking about him, Amelia felt Mitchell tune in. She knew right away, with an overwhelming surge of wildness, that Angelle was right. With the way things were going, it could get nasty between Mitchell and Mabel. “Mabel, thank you for your concern, it’s really touching but I’m fine and I need to deal with this on my own. I think you need to leave. Take some time off.”
“She’s right,” Eric said. “If Amelia hadn’t gotten in the way you might not have been so lucky.”
“He’s ashamed of the way he acted and I think he’s scared for you.” Amelia added because Mabel looked determined to stay. “He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you, Mabel.” She wondered if that was actually true and then quickly dismissed the thought, not wanting to consider that Mitchell could be so monstrous.
Luckily, Mabel didn’t notice her hesitation, and she visibly deflated. She bobbed her head in agreement. “You call me, dear. Call me every two hours. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come back.”
In no time, Amelia had Mabel safely in her car and when she drove away, Amelia felt as if a colossal burden had been lifted from her shoulders. One less person to worry about.
After some coaxing, Eric went to take a shower and get his head together. He wasn’t himself yet, not that Amelia blamed him. He had just, in a sense, died.
With Eric taken care of, Amelia made a cup of instant coffee and plopped down at the island. Too much was happening. Too many feelings. Too many changes. She couldn’t help but feel like she was getting the short end of the stick again. Someone else was choosing her path and she was powerless to change it.
Tears dripped down her cheeks. She knew something had to be done, but what? Where should she start? Should she deal with the fact that vampires are real? Or that soulmates exist? Or that her soulmate is a vampire? Or what about the fact that it is all real and for some reason he bit her and now, because of that bite, they are linked together and she will never be able to do anything again without him knowing? There was no logical way to look at it. No mathematical equation to solve the problems. It was magic. She struggled with that hard, solitary rationalization.
“Wanna talk about it?” Angelle asked. She was rinsing the blood splatters from the sink that Eric had left behind.
“Yes,” Amelia smiled weakly. “But I think I need to talk to him.” Mitchell. He was the only one that could help her now. She knew that. Maybe they could come to some kind of arrangement. She doubted it but she knew she had to try because she couldn’t live like this.
“I’ll go with you,” she said, and Amelia was grateful to have the support.
As they walked in silence to Amelia’s room, Amelia tried to figure out what to say to him. Yes, I love you but I hate you for making me feel this way just didn’t sound right, because, well, she really didn’t want to love him and from tip to toe she loathed herself—not him—for doing it. She wished there was some kind of switch she could just turn off.
Amelia braced herself when they got to her bedroom door. Coaching herself, giving a mental pep talk, not to act like a fool, not to run to him. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t worthy of her love. That was the brain wave that messed up everything. She hadn’t noticed, but Mitchell had been eavesdropping, and he was ready for her the second she walked into the room.
Angelle went first, taking a seat on Amelia’s bed beside Luke, and Amelia trailed along. The talking quickly exploded into a full-blown fight that dragged on for hours. They clashed on everything. It started out about important things, like why he took so long to find her, and why he had bitten her. As their anger increased, it fueled the burning hatred Amelia felt. They argued about what he had done to Eric, about how he had no right to make decisions for her and the hostility continued to build. He told her that she hadn’t actually won a scholarship. He was paying for her education, and the fake scholarship was just part of his master plan to get her to Willowberg.
When they dealt with the important things, they kept right on fighting. He picked on what she was wearing; telling her jogging suits didn’t look good on anyone. She told him his hair looked stupid (it didn’t—Amelia loved his silky, light brown hair.) They even battled about the color of the sky—which now that she thought about it—they both had agreed it was blue but disputed it anyways.
Angelle intervened when Mitchell had revealed, in a very heated way, why there was a curfew. As it turned out, the curfew was only for humans because the vampires, who filled the entire street, used the gated complex as a hunting ground. They brought in humans at night, set them loose, and hunted. Not all of them did, Luke had said, not the ones she lived with, but some still enjoyed the hunt.
“I’ve heard enough,” Amelia said, cutting off Luke’s attempt to justify the animalistic behavior. Her head felt like it would explode from information overload. She needed to be alone. She felt rotten and needed to think. The dried sweat from her run and the morning’s madness had really taken its toll; she craved solitude, and a nice hot bath. “Please,” Amelia sta
rted, and when tears stung her eyes, she stopped and scrubbed at them. “I need to be alone. Please… all of you just go away.”
Amelia had expected Mitchell to fight her on it, refuse to leave but when he didn’t, she supposed that he must have been just as beat from all the fighting. The three of them left her without another word.
When the door shut, she flopped down onto her bed, buried her face into her pillow and screamed out all her frustration. It felt unexpectedly good, and Amelia did it again and again and again until her throat was raw. Talking to Mitchell really hadn’t gone how she had hoped and now, she was left with even more questions…she was even more afraid.
Amelia rolled onto her back and stared vacantly at the ceiling. Her brain was fried. Since nothing was making any sense, she decided that soaking in the tub was the best thing. Clear her mind and start again fresh.
She slugged her way across the room and caught sight of her phone blinking on the table. She detoured to see what she had missed.
There was a text message from Erin. It had just come in and she realized she must have missed the tone while screaming into the pillow.
Talked to Ty. U OK?
Amelia wanted to say that no, she really wasn’t okay but she didn’t want to explain that so she answered: Yup. Fine.
Before she could set the phone down it chirped again: Need to C U alone. Can we meet?
Yeah right, Amelia thought. Like she would be able to leave the house. She replied: Not a good time. Family issues.
Amelia waited to see if Erin would respond and a moment later, another message flashed up: Tomoro? Pick u up at 9 for class.
Amelia quickly replied: Ok. C U in am.
Mitchell couldn’t object to that, right? She had to go to school so what did it matter if one of her friends picked her up? She called Joe at the gate and let him know, then she poured a scorching hot bath, letting the heat and steam soothe away her worries, if only for a moment…
The Soul's Mark: FOUND Page 16