Amelia groaned, long and loud. “Seriously, can’t a girl sleep in peace?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut and snuggling under the blankets. “You suck. Get out.”
“You are so adorable when you first wake up,” Eric laughed.
Amelia opened her eyes and glared at him, catching a glimpse of the faintly lit sky. The sun was just beginning to rise. Eric was grinning like a fool, and she bristled. “What? Is there something in the vampire handbook that says you have to be a smart ass?” She absolutely hated mornings and was not in the mood for laughter just yet.
Eric laughed again, and a glint of wickedness settled over his eyes. He grabbed the covers in a swift motion and flung them across the room. Before Amelia could process what was happening, she was being set down in her closet. “Get dressed,” he said with a wide grin, clearly proud of himself. He flicked on the light and pulled the large double doors shut, giving her privacy to get dressed.
After a few groans and her typical mumbles about how much mornings suck, she pulled on some clothes and dragged her way back out to her room. It was at that moment that it hit her; Mitchell hadn’t stopped Eric from waking her up, and she couldn’t feel the normal tug at her heart pulling her towards him when he was near. Her eyes immediately landed on his cot, which was made, neat and tidy, and obviously had not been slept in. “Where’s Mitch?” she asked, a knot of panic forming in her stomach. What could he possibly be doing to keep him out all night again?
Eric shrugged. “Don’t know. He went out last night with Angelle and …” he paused as his lip curled in disgust, “Fiona. They haven’t come back yet.”
Fiona!
He stayed out all night with Fiona again. Amelia couldn’t believe it, and it made her blood boil. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Amelia knew that. Since she had found out that Fiona was back, Mitchell had been out every night with her.
It had been a week. A long, eternal week of waking up to find he hadn’t come home. But still, she would have much rather heard that the world was ending rather than finding out that he was out all night playing with Fiona. And frankly, Angelle going with them did nothing to ease Amelia’s red-hot rage.
Before she could say anything, he continued, “The others are still sleeping.” He let his last word draw out and emphasized it with a flick of his eyes upwards, signaling that she should keep her building scream of outrage silent.
Amelia bit back the overwhelming anger that surged within her and stomped down the steps right to the French doors. She jammed her feet into her shoes with haste and threw open the doors, deciding not to bother with filling her water bottle, and headed down the stairs into the garden.
Eric knew the routine and kept his mouth shut through the stretches and the first ten minutes of the run, letting Amelia wake up and become slightly more sociable. They took their usual route, down the hill towards the main gates.
Amelia loved running on their street. It was practically like running in the middle of nowhere. The thick tree line blocked the houses that sat behind it, and she could almost pretend they weren’t even there.
The sky was slightly overcast and a cool breeze filled the air, cooling off the crazy heat wave, and making it comfortable for the run. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it started to rain. She could smell it coming. That hot, steamy, fresh scent of the impending rain filled her nose. Even though it was cooler, sweat still trickled down her brow as she ran, and she swatted at it with the back of her hand, brushing it off before it reached her eyes.
Amelia pushed herself hard, feeling the pleasant muscle burn in her legs as she tried to run away from the images of Mitchell and Fiona that seemed to have been imprinted on her mind. What was she going to do? Now that was the question. The question that so far she had no answer to. Could she step back and let Fiona have him? Is that what he wanted? Now that Mitchell had made her fall hopelessly in love with him, was he done? The challenge was gone and now he had lost interest? Maybe he never really loved her. It was an idea that Amelia had thought about over and over during the last few days.
Trying to rid the nagging thoughts of Mitchell’s whereabouts, Amelia had used the free time and buried herself in the preparations for the upcoming town fair. The fair was supposed to be a celebration, a community event for all of Willowberg—humans and vampires. And somehow, even though it had been Tyler’s idea, she had been roped into planning and organizing the whole thing. Booking the bands, organizing venders, finding companies to supply the rides and games, and arranging food stands. The list seemed to be never ending, and the event was coming up quickly.
“Are you sure it’s him, Millie?” Eric asked out of the blue as they ran, interrupting her thoughts.
Amelia shot him a sideway glance, thrown by his question. “What are you talking about?” Her mind was so wrapped up trying to figure out what still needed to be done for the fair that even if his question had made sense, she knew it wouldn’t have done any good.
Eric hesitated for a moment, and Amelia could almost see him trying to sort through his thoughts and pick his next words. “Are you sure Mitch is your soulmate?”
Amelia stopped running, and she was sure she was looking at him as if he was crazy. Aside from all the obvious clues, Eric knew that if Mitchell wasn’t her soulmate, his name would have never appeared under her mark after he had bitten her. “Of course he is, Eric. What kind of question is that anyways? You already know he is.”
Eric began kicking at a stone, staring at the ground. “The last two weeks, I’ve been…” he started, but then let his voice fade. He kicked another stone and ran his hand roughly through his hair.
Amelia didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t too often that she got a glimpse of serious Eric, and it always threw her off. She never really knew what to do or say when he was like this, because serious Eric was kind of creepy, intense, and unpredictable. She waited an agonizingly long minute for Eric to say something. But he didn’t.
Little by little Amelia’s brain—which seemed incredibly slow at the moment—began connecting the dots and their conversation from the other night, the night that Fiona had made her return known, came flitting back and she finished his sentence, “Dreaming.”
If Amelia had been freaked out by the silence, it was nothing compared to the bottomless look in Eric’s usually vibrant green eyes when he locked his stare on her. All his hopes, his fears, his self-consciousness shone cavernously through those eyes, it was almost unfathomable. He took a long breath, plastered a fake smile on his lips, and nodded.
“That’s great. Did you tell the others?” She tried to sound ecstatic, but her voice gave her away, trembling slightly.
Eric shook his head. “No.”
“What? Why not?” she asked. She didn’t want to say too much; worried he would stop talking and laugh it off like he usually did.
Eric started to walk slowly, and Amelia fell into step beside him. “It’s complicated.” He veered off the street, strolling towards the small park and plopped down on a wooden bench. He waited for her to sit before continuing. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her.” Amelia gasped, about to say something, but he stopped her. “Just let me get it out, okay?” She nodded, keeping her mouth shut. “I started having the dreams a few weeks after I turned. Her name was Megan, and in every dream, she was scared and always running for her life. They lasted just over two weeks and every day I searched for her. I wanted to find her and help her.” He paused and took a deep, shaky breath. “I could feel how scared she was. She was terrified, Millie. And I couldn’t find her. I had no way to help her.” Eric slumped his shoulders and let out a long sigh. “And then out of the blue, I stopped having the dreams. I couldn’t feel her anymore. And after a few weeks, it was almost as if she never existed.”
Amelia couldn’t hold it in any longer. “But if you are dreaming again, she must have come back,” she said, trying to sound hopeful. “You can try to find her again.”
Eric gave her a weak, hesitant smile. �
�I had forgotten about her until you came along.” Amelia couldn’t help but remember that first meeting. The way he looked at her, so curious, as if he was trying to figure something out. “You just look so much like her. I really thought you were Megan. I wanted you to be her. Everything was the same except for your eyes and hair. She had red hair with bright green eyes and a slew of freckles across her little nose.”
“You thought it was me,” Amelia breathed, not as a question but more of a shocked statement.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Well, I hoped. We’ve always been so close, and you know just as well as I do that we have some kind of connection. Everyone sees it. Mitch has even been worried about it. The way you look at me sometimes. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.”
“Oh, Eric.” Amelia reached out to touch him and then drew back, not really sure that it was a smart thing to do.
“It’s cool.” He gave her a playful shove and another way too fake grin. His eyes glistened, and he scrubbed at them, trying to hide the building tears.
“Does Mitch know?”
Eric shook his head, just a short swing. “I never really talked about it with anyone. It was just too hard at first and then none of it felt real.” He scrunched his face, deep in thought. “There’s something different this time. The dreams are like a broken connection. I can see her face. And her lips move, but there is no sound. When I reach out to touch her, my hand just passes right through. It’s like she’s a ghost.”
“Do you think she’s…” Amelia couldn’t finish the sentence. She just couldn’t. And she was glad she didn’t have to. Eric understood.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
Amelia waited for him to elaborate, wiping sweat from her forehead. But he only stared at her, and she just couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him as hard as she could. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured against his chest, and he bent down, kissing the top of her head.
Amelia? Mitchell's voice hummed through her brain, bringing her back to the here and now, and she jumped away from Eric, untangling herself from the embrace. Amelia, is everything okay? It feels like you’re crying.
Eric’s shirt was damp from where her head had rested on his chest, and her eyes felt dry and puffy. They exchanged a thoughtful glance.
Amelia, please. Talk to me. Mitchell sounded so desperate that it almost broke her heart.
Eric huffed. “Can’t he just screw off?” And then he jumped up and took off at a slow jog.
Amelia gawked after him, floored at his outburst. It took her a second to pull herself together, and then she sent Mitchell a rushed thought, Not now. I’m kind of dealing with something.
Eric? Mitchell sounded mad. What a surprise. Sometimes she swore he only had two personalities; mad and furious.
She wanted to tell him off, but in the end, she swallowed it. Yes, but don’t jump to any crazy conclusions. I’ll talk to you later, Amelia sent hurriedly and took off at a sprint after Eric, pushing Mitchell as far out of her mind as she could.
By the time they finished their three-mile run, Eric was almost back to normal. He was laughing, joking and that sparkle, although a bit dimmer than usual, was creeping back into his eyes.
Amelia stopped on the front lawn to do a few stretches, when a forceful tug threw her off balance. Eric caught her before she hit the ground. “I guess he’s home,” she sighed. Eric’s face dropped.
Mitchell was suddenly standing in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. “Where have you been?” he asked, his voice tinged with annoyance. He was still wearing the same jeans and snug blue t-shirt from the previous night, looking wrinkled and rumpled.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Amelia shot back. She turned to Eric and said, “You want to go out for breakfast? I still have a few empty booths to fill up at the fair and could use some ideas.”
Eric grinned. “Sounds good. Meet you at the car in twenty minutes.” He walked past Mitchell as if he wasn’t there and headed into the house.
“You’re not going,” Mitchell whispered, refusing to meet her eyes.
“And why is that?” Amelia finished her last stretch and walked around the side of the house to her bedroom doors, Mitchell trailing along behind her. He was sending off an unmistakable vibe. Annoyance with a splash of jealousy palpitated from him.
Amelia walked through the French doors and headed towards the en suite bathroom for a shower. Mitchell placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she could shut the door. “Because I said so?” he asked hopefully. He spun her around and gave her a set of sad puppy-dog eyes.
Amelia laughed. She wasn’t about to fall for those eyes. “When are you going to learn that I don’t really care what you said?”
Mitchell rolled his eyes. “You’re only doing this to get back at me. You’re letting your jealousy over Fiona get the better of you.”
At the mention of her name, Amelia felt as if she was suddenly caught in a wind tunnel; her hair whipped around her face, and sparks flickered from her fingertips just itching to be set free. A storm gathered around her, looming over her, and Mitchell’s anger at her reaction intensified it.
“This has nothing to do with jealousy, you big jerk,” Amelia said in a lethal tone. “You really aren’t that amazing.”
That kicked Mitchell’s anger up a notch, and Amelia laughed on the inside. She knew it was petty to egg him on like this, but hey, she was pretty sure he deserved it.
“You’re overreacting, love.” He tried to sound soft, but he had an edge of anger in his tone.
“I am not, and don’t call me that,” Amelia raged on. “Figure out what’s more important, Mitch.”
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”
The storm grew around Amelia, and her face clouded with blinding anger. “Where were you last night?”
Mitchell didn’t respond. Guilt poured from him, and it gave Amelia another jolt to fuel her.
Suddenly the doors to their bedroom flung open. “Mitchell and Amelia, enough!” Mabel shouted. “Your fighting has to stop now.”
Mitchell focused his increasing anger on Mabel. “Do not speak to me like that,” he snarled.
“You’re acting like a child,” she countered, not in the least thrown off by his outburst. She stomped over to Amelia and cupped her face in her hands. “Take a deep breath, child. He is not worth your anger.”
Amelia locked eyes with Mabel, breathing deeply and pushing the anger aside. “I’m sorry, Mabel,” Amelia said. “You’re right.”
Mabel held onto her for another moment, making sure Amelia was under control and then nodded, dropping her hands. “Now, you go have a shower. Eric’s waiting for you.”
CHAPTER 6
By the time Amelia had taken a shower and finished getting dressed, Mitchell had locked himself up in the study off the library. Supposedly, he had business to attend to, but Amelia was pretty sure he was just avoiding her. It seemed obvious since he wasn’t even using their private office. And come to think of it, she was almost positive that no one had used the study since she had moved in.
Angelle and Tyler decided to tag along for breakfast, and although Eric seemed irritated by the company, the others seemed oblivious to it. They ended up at Basket of Beans, the only diner in town that served an all-day breakfast. Amelia loved the cozy little place, which had a down-home country feel. Picnic table-style booths lined the walls, and plaid ruffled curtains hung on the windows.
Amelia sipped her coffee, which tasted slightly burnt, as she flipped through the menu trying to decide what she wanted.
“So what’s up with you and Mitch?” Angelle asked nonchalantly, keeping her eyes peeled on the menu as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.
Amelia didn’t answer right away, and she was tempted to pretend that she hadn’t heard the question. What was she supposed to say? Where should she start? And seriously, she was pretty sure Angelle already knew that Mit
chell had been staying out all night for the past week, given that she had been tagging along with him on his little excursions with Fiona. Deciding she really didn’t want to dive in and talk about her Mitchell problems, she smiled sweetly and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then she shifted her gaze to Tyler and said, “Have you decided what you’re having? I kind of want pancakes, but eggs also sound good. I love dipping my toast in the yolk.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Angelle cut in before Tyler had a chance to answer. “Talk to us, sweetie,” she cooed, reaching across the table and squeezing Amelia’s hand. “What’s going on with you two?”
Amelia yanked her hand away in disgust. Why did everyone always have to butt in? “Nothing’s going on, Angelle, so drop it.”
Eric chuckled. “I’m getting the pancakes.” He closed the menu and placed it to the side. “I’ll share if you want to get the eggs, but I want your bacon.” Amelia was so relieved he changed the subject that she wanted to hug him.
Unfortunately, Angelle didn’t take the hint. “We all saw the cot,” she whispered. “I had no idea. I thought…” she waved a hand dismissively. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. You need to step up your game, especially with Barbie bitch here. You can’t let her sink her nasty ass claws into him.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and asked, “So what exactly did you guys do on your vacation?”
Amelia’s eyes widened and a blush settled onto her cheeks as she watched Tyler squirm a little, trying to pretend he wasn’t listening to the conversation. “Angelle, not now,” she said. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about this in front of the boys. Angelle’s eyes were alight, waiting for all the juicy details, and Amelia looked at Eric for help, but he just shrugged and mouthed I tried. She sighed and shut her menu. Why couldn’t her friends be oblivious? Did they really have to notice everything? And frankly, this was the last thing she wanted to discuss. “Really, it’s so not the most important thing right now. Did you completely miss the fact that he’s been letting them hunt?” She made a point of looking at the boys as she said it, hoping Angelle would take the hint.
Soul's Mark 02 - Hunted Page 5