Amelia scooted back to get a good look at her mother because her mother’s tone clearly conveyed that it would not be a simple everyone is happy decision. “So you’re saying if I stay dead then you guys will come back? We can be a family again?” She tried hard to keep the burning hope out of her voice but she was pretty sure she hadn’t succeeded.
Mrs. Caldwell confirmed Amelia suspicions with her heartbreaking reply. “Yes, dear, but you need to understand that at some point you’ll have to let us go. We were not meant to stay on earth for an eternity. Our path was to help you discover your own.” Mrs. Caldwell held out her hands, “Take my hands. You need to ask the air spirits to show you what you have repressed.” She hesitated for just a moment and then Amelia took her mother’s hands, marveling at how firm and solid they felt. “When you’re ready, I want you to concentrate on the heat that’s pumping in your veins and say: Past lives that have gone astray, show me.”
Amelia took a few deep breaths to stop the tremors that shook her to the bone. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to see whatever her mother had to show her, but she also knew she had to. After a moment of indecision, in a clear and strong voice she barely recognized as her own, Amelia said, “Past lives that have gone astray, show me.”
The air between them shimmered and then turned to a foggy gray. An image formed in the center, like an animated charcoal sketch, cloudy and smudged. A young girl with long curly hair scrunched under a bonnet walked with her head down and shoulders stooped. She stopped at a small door above which hung a crucifix. She hesitated for a moment and glanced back. Until that moment, Amelia hadn’t been certain of whom she was watching but she was now. Staring at her through the murky image was herself, the soul’s mark, clear as day, imprinted on her neck.
“Thou have come to the right place, child,” a voice from behind the door called and the girl from the image, turned back, opened the door and stepped in.
She closed the door behind her and sat down on a small bench style chair, arranging her dress and folding her hands in her lap. Then she looked through a small meshed area in the wall and said, “Father, I am frightened. A man came to me in my dreams.”
“When did he first come?” the priest, Amelia assumed, questioned. She could just barely make out his lips in the cloudy image.
“The night my parents passed,” the girl replied in a shaky voice.
There was a long silence, then a deep sigh. “I have feared you would be taken.” The rustling of clothing filled the air and when the priest continued, he let his voice rise to a holler. “You wear the devil’s mark and the devil hath found you.”
Suddenly, there was a commotion, crunching glass, wood snapping, and voices roaring, accusatorily chanting over and over “Witch!” The door flung open and Amelia screamed.
Then, as if someone had taken a brush, the image was wiped away to gray and another illustration started to form in the center. Smoke billowed around her face and flames licked up a post. The girl in the image was bound to the post and hundreds of spectators stood watching with fervor. The chanting was deafening: “Burn the Witch!”
Amelia watched in horror as the memories kept flashing as vivid as if she was reliving the moment. Her skin sizzled against the heat and the rancid smell of her flesh burning turned her stomach. “Make it stop,” she cried, unable to pull her eyes away. “I don’t want to see anymore.”
The image became more intense, and the face of her past self contorted with detestation. The view shifted to show what she was looking at: Mitchell. He stood motionless, tears smudging down his cheeks. The view shifted again to show herself, flames licking up her neck, touching at her chin. A chain emerged from her heart and Amelia followed the line. The spectators were gone, smudged away, and the chanting had decreased to a whisper. On the other end of the chain was Mitchell. He buckled, and as if the life was sucked of out of him, crumpled to his knees. He let out a cry, snarled and distorted, excruciating and filled with anguish. He watched, powerlessly, as she was consumed by the inferno.
The image blurred and faded. The air shimmered and slowly her mother’s grief-stricken face came into focus. “This was the turning point for you. It was in this lifetime that you put up the wall to shield yourself from your past. It wasn’t until you were so anguished by our deaths that Mitchell was able to break through.” Her mother laughed cheerlessly. “You need to understand, sweetie, our deaths, your father and I… it needed to happen to bring you and Mitchell together.”
“I don’t believe that,” Amelia whispered. “I need you, Mommy.”
Mrs. Caldwell smoothed away the shiny trail of tears spilling down Amelia’s face. “You’ve been given not only one, but two miracles. You can do so much good with these gifts. The witch who cast the soulmate curse had never anticipated that one of her own would be implicated. She acted in haste, not thinking of all the possibilities. But you’re not powerless to him. You’re stronger than you think. You, my sweet child, are his equal. Together you can help others. With your magic and his clout in the vampire world, you can stop all the pain and suffering. You can change the curse to a glorious gift for all those who it has befallen. You can right the wrongs of our ancestors.”
“Work together?” Amelia shook her head, and a new sting came to her eyes. “Mom… he hates me. He doesn’t want me.”
“Oh, Amelia,” Mrs. Caldwell said and made a tsk sound. “You know that’s not true.”
Amelia almost giggled. Even in death, her mother knew when she was lying. She racked her brain for something, anything to say that would sound believable. “Well, he wants to hate me and he doesn’t want to be with me anyways. He said he was going to kill himself so he wouldn’t have to be with me.”
Mrs. Caldwell raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “He said that, did he?”
Amelia huffed. “No. He thinks I don’t want him.” She would never understand how her mother always knew what she was really feeling. She guessed it was another thing in life that could be chalked up as magic. That thought shocked her though, because just yesterday she would have chalked it up to a mother’s intuition, but today magic seemed right on the mark.
“I see.” A small smile appeared on Mrs. Caldwell’s lips and her eyes sparkled. “I know this has been hard for you. But you need to ask yourself, do you love him?”
“More than anything, but Mom…” Passion rushed through her veins and Amelia jumped up, pacing back and forth. She clenched her fists into little white balls. “We fight. We fight like crazy. We can’t even be in the same room without wanting to kill each other.”
Mrs. Caldwell laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’re both very stubborn. Let me guess, he keeps making all the decisions for you and you don’t like that.”
“Exactly…” Amelia said under her breath. “He’s just so… so… infuriating!” She loosened her hands and plopped back down into her mother’s lap. “He thinks he knows best. He acts like he’s some kind of king or something.” Mrs. Caldwell laughed again. “Stop it, Mom. This is serious.”
“True love is never easy and if my memories serve me correctly, he was a king in his human life. Come to think of it, I believe he still is a king of sorts amongst his kind. Mitchell has been on this earth for a very long time.” She brushed her fingers under Amelia’s chin and tilted her head up to meet her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s possible that he really does know what’s best for you? He just may not always say it in the best way. You need to be patient with him, dear. After he watched you die, it changed him. Imagine what he must have felt. All the strength of a vampire and he could do nothing to help you. And it’s been a long time since he’s had to deal with someone so young. You know that feeling you get when he’s around?”
A rush of emotion filled Amelia as she tried to find the words to explain how it felt. Her heart fluttered and a pleasant light-headedness swallowed her up, the way it always did at the thought of Mitchell. “Yeah, like I’m being pulled to him. It’s like there is
no one else in the world when he’s there.” She knew that was right, it wasn’t even an approximation of her true feelings, but the words escaped her. Her love was ineffable.
Her mother seemed to understand and smiled. “Well picture that times ten and that’s what he’s feeling. As a vampire, he has heightened emotions. And dealing with teenage girls is not easy for anyone, especially someone as hot-headed as you.” She brushed a tear from Amelia’s cheek. “To be honest, I kind of feel sorry for him. You’ve always been a handful and so impulsive. I know you try to think logically like your father but when there’s no logic you let your emotions run wild.” Then she got serious. “The world needs you, Amelia. Mitchell needs you.” Mrs. Caldwell waved her hand delicately across the fluffy cotton. “Look,” she said, and pointed below.
Amelia glanced down and saw herself, motionless in her bed, Mitchell sitting beside her holding her hand and caressing her cheek. “How long have I been gone?” Hadn’t she just seen herself in the grungy basement crumpled on the floor and covered in blood?
“Almost a full day,” Mrs. Caldwell replied. “Time passes differently here. You need to decide before it’s too late to go back.”
“How am I supposed to do that, Mom?” Amelia yelled. “If I go back then I’m basically signing away your life. If I stay, then you and Dad can come back.”
“We’re ready to rest,” Mrs. Caldwell said quietly, as if she was scared to push too hard. It made Amelia think about Eric and the ticking time bomb. Did everyone think she was on the verge of exploding? A small giggle tried to escape but she repressed it. “We’ve both lived long full lives and it’s time for us to move on.” Her eyes twinkled as if she was inviting Amelia to share a secret and her voice took on a magical, fairy tale kind of tone. “And remember, you’re a witch. You have a connection with the spirits. We’ll always be here for you. All you need to do is call.”
Amelia was completely and utterly speechless. How was she supposed to believe that they didn’t want to come back? How was she supposed to be able to call her parents? It made no sense. If it was possible, why hadn’t her mother come before? Amelia couldn’t even begin to count how many times she had wished to see her parents.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve. I can see it so clearly, all your hopes and dreams. All the hard stuff‘s over. All you have to do now is look forward to the good stuff.” Mrs. Caldwell smothered Amelia in a hug and kissed her cheek. “Amelia, you have so much good to share with the world. Your friend Erin needs you. She’s suffering, and you can ease that pain.”
“I understand,” Amelia said, eyes wide as she gazed at her mother. Would this be the last time they would see each other? She knew, almost instinctually, she had to go back. Her mother was right. She had a chance to do good, to help people and to be happy. She tried to think of something epic to say. How many people got a chance at a second goodbye? But she was drawing a blank, only uttering, “I know what I have to do, I just don’t know how to say goodbye to you.”
“It’s never goodbye. Not for you, sweetie. The body may die but the soul never does. We‘ll always be here. All you need to do is open your heart and you’ll know how to find us. Look inside yourself.”
“Mom, you sound just like that ridiculous psychic.” Amelia tossed up her hands, exasperated. She knew she was stalling. She didn’t want the moment to end, but she couldn’t help it and she raged on. “Madame Crystal said I’d know how to let Mitch back in and I can’t figure that out. How am I supposed to find you or help Erin if I can’t even repair the bond with Mitch?”
“Open your heart. All the answers are there just waiting for you to find them.” She gave Amelia another big hug and a wise, all knowing kind of smile. “It’s time to go back. Always remember, I love you my sweet, sweet child.”
CHAPTER 29
The sunlight glittered through the windows like ribbons of gold, twirling and weaving, casting the room in a glory of light. For a quick second, Amelia’s heart stopped. Had something gone wrong? She was almost certain she was dead, because she had never envisioned such splendor in such a simple thing as the sunlight before. Surely that meant that her time was over, she had taken too long to decide and the spirits had done it for her.
Then she saw Mitchell. He sat beside her bed, staring blankly out the window, a single tear streaming down his cheek winding like a river. When the sunlight touched it, it sparkled like the shiny flecks of a diamond. His aura shone brightly—lemon yellow—and mixed with the sunbeams he looked indisputably angelic.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened and his pain, his worries, his fears, everything came crashing into Amelia. She gasped, instantaneously realizing that he thought she was never coming back. He was sure he had lost her and that pain, the idea of losing him was more than she could bear.
When she gasped, Mitchell swiveled to meet her gaze. Hastily, he rubbed at his face and gave her a weak smile.
“You’re here,” Amelia croaked.
Pain and disappointment flashed in his eyes, and she knew he had misunderstood. “Sorry…” Mitchell said—hollow and empty. “I’ll go.” He hesitated for a moment, looking her over and then stood up.
“No.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re here. Is everyone okay? Erin? Is Erin okay?” Amelia tried to sit up and when she couldn’t make it, Mitchell helped, propping pillows behind her. He fidgeted, fluffing them up, rearranging the mounds of cushions, smoothing out the sheets. With the way he was avoiding looking at her, it was obvious that something was horribly wrong. Glints of Erin surfaced in his thoughts, but as quickly as they flashed up he pushed them down. A rock hard lump formed in Amelia’s throat and she swallowed hard, fighting against the tears that threatened. “Mitch… please… please. You have to tell me they’re fine.”
“They’re alive,” Mitchell said. He tried to keep his tone light and if not for their emotional link, she may have believed him. But as it was, she could feel that he was hiding something from her, something that she was sure she didn’t really want to know.
“But…?” Amelia asked. Panic tinged her voice and she imagined the ghastly fates of her friends—her family.
Mitchell sighed and his expression took on a hard and closed air. “Don’t worry, love. You need rest.”
“Stop trying to hide things from me and tell me what happened!” she shouted, and smacked her fits onto the bed.
“Amelia…” he pleaded, fighting the anger that flickered in his eyes at her outburst.
The all too familiar fury started bubbling up in both of them, his mixing with hers, creating a thunderstorm of rage. Amelia clenched her fists and focused hard on keeping an even tone before she spoke. She took a deep breath and locked her eyes with his. “Listen closely, Mitch, because I’m only going to say this once. If you want it to work between us, you need to stop trying to make all the damn decisions. You think you’re protecting me, I get it, but you’re not. I’m not trying to say it’ll be easy. So don’t kid yourself into thinking it will be. We’re both stubborn and frankly,” she smirked, “I know that I’m always right and you’re always wrong. It’ll be a lot of work, but if you’re willing to try, so am I.”
Amelia couldn’t help but smile. For just a second, strong, closed Mitchell looked lost and confused. He gave his head a thorough shake and his lips curved the slightest little bit. “Did you just say you want to try?” His brilliant eyes shone blue like a clear summer’s sky and a sudden surge of bliss wrapped around her like a cozy fleece blanket.
Amelia took a moment to enjoy the love and devotion that poured off of him, soaking it up like a dry sponge. She tried to send the same feelings to him, wanting him to feel what she felt but as she gathered them up and pushed she hit a wall—the wall that she had placed between them. Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated with herself for ruining the magic between them, and then forced it out of her mind, because, she knew that was the least of her worries right now. She fixed her stare on him. “That’s what I said.
Now tell me, what’s wrong.” She crossed her arms. When he didn’t answer she yelled, “I’m serious, Mitch. Tell me!”
Mitchell sighed again. This time long and drawn out, the air slowly pushing from his lips; he was stalling, Amelia was sure of it. He shuffled awkwardly around the bed tucking her in like a sausage and then, when she could hardly breathe from the tight blankets, he said, “Erin’s not doing well. Tristan got away and he’s been calling to her through the bond. I had to lock her up so she wouldn’t run after him.”
Calling her? He still had control? A knot twisted in her stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Amelia let her gaze wander the room, allowing her self-pity to get the best of her. All she wanted was to come back from the—almost—dead, see Mitchell, fall in love again and live happily ever after. “I don’t get it,” she said through clenched teeth. Then she felt ashamed. It wasn’t like her to put herself first, and it just didn’t feel right. And Amelia had to admit that she was the one who asked about her friends, so she knew she needed to suck it up and put her life on hold—again—to help them. “I thought with her being a vampire he wouldn’t have that kind of control.”
Mitchell ran a finger along her cheek. “They’re still bonded, love. She still feels the pull and it’s not something that’s easy to fight. It’s kind of like us. Even though you have shut me out, I can still feel your presence. I can still feel that pull, like you’re tugging a rope that’s attached to my heart.” He plopped back down in the chair and rubbed at his face, as if he was trying to banish away his pained expression.
It was a great feat, but Amelia managed to ignore his heartbreaking look and pushed on. She needed to know what had happened if she would have any chance at helping her friend. She dug into her memories, trying to piece together the drug-hazed conversation she had had with Tristan. “Tristan said you killed her. He thought she was dead. What happened?”
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