A distant look settled on Mitchell’s brow and small creases marred the soft skin around his eyes. “I came back to tell you I was sorry about our fight but you were gone. I thought…” he paused, and Amelia watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a bunch of quick swallows. “I thought you left me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.” He reached out and caressed her cheek, letting his fingers slide down to her neck, lingering on her mark. “But when you weren’t there, I lost it. I don’t know if our family will ever forgive me.” A frantic string of images passed through his mind and his jaw twitched as he fought them away. “Tyler was the one who found Erin. Tristan had left her to die.”
Amelia waited for him to tell her more but when he didn’t, she said gently, “So you changed her. You saved her life.”
“I almost didn’t. I wanted to kill her.” His eyes flared, streaked red and then he blinked, casting it away. He let his arms drop, dangling to his sides and the creases on his brow turned to crevices, deep and sharp.
Amelia waited, afraid to say anything that might shut him down, because, whether she liked it or not, at times Mitchell could be worse than a teenage girl in the mood swing department. Was that a vampire thing or just him? she wondered.
After a few moments, he met her eyes, and his face lit up with excitement. “Amelia, can you help her? Is there a spell or something? You could break it like you did with me.”
“I didn’t…” Amelia started, and then quickly stopped. Didn’t what? She was about to tell him that she hadn’t broken their link but she had. She knew it was time that she stopped lying to him and took the responsibility for her actions.
He must have read it on her face because he said, “It’s okay. I guess I didn’t give you much choice.”
It was at that moment that she knew, no matter what, she had to figure out how to fix what she had done to them. But first, she needed to help Erin. “Help me up, Mitch. I need to see her.”
****
Amelia was absolutely appalled to find out that her castle dream home actually had a dungeon and that dungeon was where Mitchell had locked up Erin.
“You left her in here,” Amelia seethed, glancing around and taking in the barbaric room. She felt as if she had stepped through a time portal and was teleported back to the Middle Ages. The rough and jagged stone walls were caked with what looked like centuries of grime and were splattered with dark spots that she knew, disturbingly, was blood. Thankfully, when she glanced at Mitchell, he looked just as unsettled. “I tried locking her in one of the upstairs rooms, love. She broke out.”
“What was this used for?” Amelia asked, looking over a contraption that hung from the ceiling. She had a frightening thought of someone hanging upside-down, the leather and chains tightening and pulling until limbs ripped off, and she cringed and trembled. Before Mitchell could help add any nightmarish ideas, she tossed up her hands and said, “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
At that moment, she heard Erin’s voice traveling down a dark and dingy corridor. “Millie, finally, you need to get me out of here.” Erin’s call surrounded Amelia, slithering around her like a tangled nest of hissing snakes. The words echoed, bouncing off the walls and it felt as if they were trying to slither into her mind and pull her in. Her goose-pimpled skin prickled as the pimples turned into full-grown bumps. “I know you’re there, Millie,” Erin hissed when Amelia didn’t respond. “I can smell your sweet, sweet blood pumping through your veins.”
Amelia took a step back and jumped a foot off the ground when she bumped into Mitchell. He held her, rubbing small circles onto her back and she fought to catch her breath. “Amelia, it’s not really Erin talking. She’s letting the demon take control. You should know that we had to restrain her as well so she wouldn’t hurt us or herself.”
Amelia opened her mouth, but the only sound that came from her lips was a scared little whimper. She swallowed hard and shook her head even harder hoping the fears would fly out from the force, and then she gave herself a stern mental pep talk. You’re a witch. You have nothing to be scared of. Erin’s your friend and she needs your help. Keep it together, Amelia. You can do this. When she was sure her voice would work, she locked eyes with Mitchell and asked, “What do you mean restrain her?”
“You’ll see. Just promise me you won’t do anything rash. She’s not thinking clearly and you can’t trust her. She’s not the Erin you knew.”
As if he could feel how cold and scared she was, Mitchell sent a warm, bubbly sensation of strength through the link, letting her feed from his power, and then he turned from her and padded his way towards Erin.
Amelia reluctantly followed, weaving through the hallways. It seemed as if every few steps they took they ended up at a fork, small corridors leading off every which way. A few times, Amelia could have sworn they had already passed by a cell or a doorway, and she was glad she was not alone. It was like walking through an otherworldly web of torture, and with every turn, she fought the urge to run back the way she had come. She fought her imagination, attempting to reassure herself the whole way that this place was never used. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the idea of feeble humans running in the maze of hallways as their ruthless predators stalked them, playing with them like helpless little mice.
“Millie, hurry up,” Erin howled, breaking through Amelia’s overactive imagination. “Don’t listen to that dumbass boy toy of yours. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m fine. Just get me out of here.”
Mitchell veered to the right, down another dark and moldy smelling passageway before stopping abruptly. Amelia collided into his back and she stumbled. Before she could hit the ground, he steadied her with an unearthly speed and grace.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim, flickering light but when they did, a feeling of sickness overcame her. “My God, Erin,” she cried and rushed forwards. Erin was tied up helplessly in a tiny cell with barely enough room for her small body to fit into. Two chains hung from the ceiling cuffed to her wrists and her ankles were chained to the stone floor. Amelia shook the metal bars but they didn’t budge. She spun around, hands on her hips, and glared at Mitchell. “Mitch, open this cell.”
“I’m not opening it until she can control herself,” Mitchell said, the all too recognizable cold expression on his face. The very expression he used with her any time he was about to fight her on something.
Amelia bristled, ready for the battle. She was just about to throw a tantrum when Erin piped up, “He’s a lunatic, Millie. Please get me out. I’m so hungry,” she said, the last word with a drawn out hiss that sent a chill racing down Amelia’s spine.
“Can you help her, love?” Mitchell asked softly. “Can you do the spell you did with us?”
Amelia glanced back at Erin and deflated. “I don’t know if that will help. What I did… I mean…” she stuttered. “Well, it only blocked your connection. I can still feel everything. For me, it’s almost like nothing has changed. I don’t know how to severe the bond completely.”
“What about just reversing it? Can you block her from seeing him?”
Amelia thought about that for a minute, but the cold, hard reality hit her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispered, reluctant to say it at all. “If I do that then we have no way of knowing where Tristan is or if he’s planning to come back. Right now, we have an advantage. If the link stays then we’ll know every move he makes.”
Amelia stared at Erin, who was now growling and yanking on the chains. “If I can just take away the pull we can let her go. I guess I need to mask her thoughts, too. I wonder,” she paused, scratching at her head. “What if I can make it look like she’s searching for him. Maybe that will be enough to trick him into thinking she’s coming.”
Her mind was swirling as the ideas tumbled forth faster than she could process them. She took a few calming breaths and tried to find a center. Suddenly, as if the knowledge had always been a part of her, what she had to do
became clear.
Amelia took Mitchell’s hand, closed her eyes and focused on the memory of the power—hot tea and honey. The sweet, steamy power sputtered, shining unsteadily. It smoldered, then flashed up again, and blazed. It swirled around her and she let it pull on Mitchell’s strength to feed the firestorm burning deep within.
Mitchell tried to pull his hands away but Amelia held tight using her magic to keep him still. “What are you doing?” he asked unsteadily.
“I need your power, Mitch,” Amelia gasped and fixed her pleading gaze on him. “I need your help.”
For a quick second, Amelia thought he was going to keep fighting her, but then he nodded. “I’m going to pull on your persuasion. I need you to focus and push it to me,” she said.
Amelia drew from Mitchell, feeling his persuasion join with her, strengthening the blazing power that coursed through them both. She drew in a breath and chanted, “Mold a twin and link the bond,” over and over. Erin’s snarls grew more savage and the chains rattled as she tried to break free.
Mitchell grunted and staggered. “You’re taking too much.” His voice was barely audible and his complexion was graying fast.
“Help me,” Amelia wheezed and panted. “Don’t fight it.”
Amelia could feel the life draining from him and his struggles to break free became less and less. She heaved on his powers, merging them with hers and continued the chant.
Mitchell struggled for breath and staggered again. Erin’s sickening laughed filled her ears. “It’s no use, Millie. You aren’t strong enough,” she hissed.
Amelia continued to chant, “Mold a twin and link the bond.” Her knees began to shake and she struggled to stay upright. She kept her eyes fixed on Mitchell and suddenly, as if he had a second wind, Mitchell straightened up and began to chant with her.
“Mold a twin and link the bond,” they chanted, their voices strengthening with each intonation.
The jingling of the chains and Erin’s snarls were deafening but they continued to chant in repetition. Amelia focused all her energy and forced herself to speak clearly, enunciating every syllable. Mitchell squeezed her hands tighter. Erin screamed out, cursing and snarling, the sound echoing around the cold stone walls. A metallic sound of chains snapping rang out and another bloodcurdling scream penetrated Amelia’s ears. She broke the hold on Mitchell and rushed forward just as Erin crumpled to the ground, whimpering.
CHAPTER 30
“I can’t believe that worked,” Lola said, in a slightly smug and disbelieving tone. Mitchell gave her a disapproving glare and she snuggled in closer to Luke, as if she was trying to hide in his arms. Her face was marked with a mix of amazement and fear and she kept a close eye on Amelia.
The whole gang—new members, Tyler and Erin included—had gathered in the kitchen, which seemed to be the unspoken meeting place to hear about the spell Amelia had used on Erin.
“I don’t get it,” Eric said, scratching at his head. “Are you saying there’s another Erin running around somewhere?”
Angelle groaned and shot him a look that clearly said you’re such a moron. “She created the illusion of another Erin.”
“So there aren’t two of them?” Eric asked, perplexed and glanced around the table, as if he was hoping to find someone else who shared his confusion.
Amelia laughed a pleasant, good-feeling laugh. It seemed as if every time she had laughed lately it was out of nervousness, but this laugh was genuine. “Okay, let me try this again,” Amelia said. She had told Eric five times now and he still wasn’t getting it. “I’ll try to keep it simple. I used Mitchell’s mind control, um, talents and mixed it with my witchiness. Using both our strengths, I was able to make an imaginary Erin. I planted fake thoughts in the imaginary Erin. Then, so Tristan will still think he has a bond with the real one, I cut the cord,” Amelia gestured using scissors to snip the cable, “that connected them and attached it to the imaginary Erin. I left the mind-reading part intact for Erin so she can still hear his thoughts, but now, Tristan will only hear and feel the fake ones.”
Eric smacked his hands onto the table. “I knew it. There are two Erin’s!” Then he hopped up from his chair and went over to examine the mouth-watering concoction Mabel was whipping up.
After everyone had a good chuckle at Eric, Mitchell said, beaming, “You guys should have seen her. She was amazing.”
Erin huffed. “Amazing? Really not that amazing. It was torture. I feel like she cut me in half.”
“I kinda did.” Amelia blushed and then cursed under her breath. Really, after all the near death experiences she had had since moving to Willowberg, she was still blushing? She glanced at Mitchell. He was looking at her with so much love that it made the blush turn beet red.
“Dude. What the hell happened to you?” Eric interrupted her moment. “Weren’t you all death to Mitch two days ago?”
“Did you just call me ‘dude’?” Amelia laughed. She couldn’t help but marvel at how much everything had changed. Eric was leaning against the counter in the exact same place, giving her the exact same breathtaking smile he had on the first day she had arrived and it was barely fazing her now. He was still hot—Amelia had to admit it—but next to Mitchell, well, Eric just did not compare.
“Eric.” Mabel smacked him on the head with a wooden spoon. The room erupted in laughter and she had to shout to be heard. “Get off my counter and sit down.” She then waited for the laughter to die down before asking, “Who wants food?” Amelia, Angelle, Eric and Tyler promptly raised their hands.
“Bacon and eggs,” Angelle chirped her request.
“I make killer scrambled eggs,” Eric said. Unimpressed, Mabel gave him another whack with the spoon. “What?” he asked, attempting to look innocent.
“You’re not helping, so get over there and plant your butt on a chair,” Mabel raised the spoon as if she was going to smack him again. Eric chuckled, put up his hands in surrender, and slid into a chair.
Mitchell draped his arm around Amelia’s shoulder and she settled back in her chair. Blissful warmth spread through her as she looked around at all her friends chatting easily and she let herself enjoy the feeling for a moment.
Yesterday she wouldn’t have believed it, but it looked like everything was working out. Even Tyler looked happy—maybe a bit too happy—Amelia noticed. She watched as Tyler and Angelle stole fleeting glances at each other.
Amelia wanted to probe at them, see if a new romance was in the air—she was pretty sure there was—but in the end, she bit her tongue on the questions and asked, “How did Tristan get away?”
“That was my fault,” Tyler said bashfully. “I tried to stake him when he was choking you and I kinda missed his heart.” He grinned. “Seriously, not as easy as the movies make it look. He dropped you and took off.”
Even Amelia couldn’t help but laugh with the rest of them. Tyler looked so bewildered. It was as if he hadn’t imagined that his heroic attempt to save her wouldn’t work. She laughed until her sides hurt and tears came to her eyes. When she finally caught her breath she asked, “What about Adam?”
Her question silenced the laughter, and Luke’s thoughtful hazel eyes focused on her. “We really don’t know, kiddo. He snuck out when we were trying to keep Tristan from Tyler after the little…” he picked up a fork and mimicked a staking motion over his heart, “incident.” Then he gave Erin a hard stare. “I don’t think you should go anywhere by yourself for now, given the whole Kandi thing.”
The room went eerily silent and Amelia couldn’t help but think they were giving Kandi a moment of silence. She hadn’t been a fan of Kandi’s but she let herself wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was Tristan’s company that made her such a monster. With that, she said a silent prayer for her soul to find Adam.
“Hey, Millie,” Tyler said, breaking the silence. “Can you use your witch skills to zap me a passing grade? ‘Cause with all this crap I missed a few papers and a test.”
Amelia groaned. The last thing
she wanted to think about was school. Never in her life had she missed so many classes. “I don’t even want to think about how behind I am.”
The frying bacon smelled wonderful. Usually Amelia hated the greasy smell, but today it made her mouth water in anticipation. The conversation spiraled on, chatting easily as if nothing had happened and Amelia was ecstatic at how easily Erin and Tyler blended with her family. Mabel served breakfast and, to Amelia’s surprise, she joined them.
Mabel was just about to work on the mess when she stopped, plates balancing in her hands. She looked Amelia over, head to toe and raised a questioning eyebrow. “You seem different. What happened to you?”
Different, Amelia thought. Wow, that is an understatement. She busied herself, sweeping crumbs off the table and dusting them onto her plate while she tried to think of how to answer that. Of course, she seemed different. Who wouldn’t after all this? A bunch of excuses popped to her mind but in the end, she settled on telling the truth. “I saw my Mom and my past.”
Amelia locked eyes with Mitchell and she was sure she heard a few gasps from around the table, but she ignored them. A replay of her burning flashed through both their minds. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt his shame. Again, she wished she could fix the link, reassure him somehow, but for the life of her, she just didn’t know how.
“What past?” Tyler asked and Amelia forced her eyes away from Mitchell.
She was about to explain when Angelle came to her rescue. “I’ll fill you in some other time,” she said, and Amelia assumed Mitchell must have confided in her.
Amelia mouthed a thank you and then she got up from the table. She didn’t want them all to see her cry again and she knew the tears weren’t far off. “I need a shower,” she said and pushed in her chair. Everyone, even Lola, looked taken aback at her abrupt departure but she didn’t really care. She smiled—what she hoped was a convincing happy smile—at Mitchell. “I won’t be long.” He smiled back, sad and distant but nodded so she turned and headed for her room.
The Soul's Mark: FOUND Page 25