The Soul's Mark: BROKEN

Page 11

“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,” Cole 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.
Josh chuckled and patted her hand. “Millie, we are born just like any other person,” he said softly, answering the question she hadn’t been able to ask. “We stop aging once our bodies are fully grown.” He nodded towards Cole and said, “He’s only eighteen.”
“But you said I made you,” she challenged, desperately wanting to disprove what he was trying to say. If they were in fact born, than obviously she hadn’t created them. It was simple logic.
“You did,” Josh said, shattering her logic. “It was your magic that made what I am possible.” He broke his eyes away from her, looking at the ground. “After Mitchell had wiped out all the hunters, you created a new batch, and one was meant specifically to mate with a witch for the sole purpose of making me.” He looked back at her then and shrugged. “Cole just kind of happened.”
Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it, feeling like a fish out of water gasping for air. She realized she didn’t actually know what to say, and clamped her mouth shut because, well, right now, logic seriously wasn’t helping.
“Erin? Oh my God, Erin!” Megan’s scream penetrated Amelia’s ears, jolting her from her thoughts, and she snapped her head to the big screen. Megan’s eyes were wide and round as quarters, and filled with concern, but strangely, there was not an ounce of fear. She struggled, pulling against the bindings that held her standing with her legs and arms spread wide. Erin was huddled in a corner of the cage in a small ball rocking back and forth, her knees tucked under her chin.
Something flickered across the screen, moving so fast that all Amelia saw was a distorted shadow. “What was that?” Cole asked, peering at the screen. Clearly, he had seen something as well. “Someone else is …” And then the figure stepped in front of the camera. “Shit!” His voice shook, and he jumped back. “They found us.”
“Mitchell,” Amelia screamed at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t believe he was here, or there, or wherever Megan was. Seeing Mitchell, knowing he was close, knowing that for sure he was still alive, sparked something in her. Something new, strong, and a bit scary. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat, and a raw energy surged through her body, racing to every nerve ending. Magic curved around her like a coiled snake. She pulled on it, manipulated it, and with a twisting screech of metal, the bindings that held her snapped.
Amelia vaulted off the bed and ran to the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Josh shudder, and his skin rippled. In a blink, it was gone, replaced by a skeleton. “It’s time, Cole,” he growled, his voice raspy and urgent. Josh’s bones clicked against the cement floor as he moved across the room, and before Amelia could reach her escape, cold and boney fingers wrapped around her wrist and lifted her off the ground.
“Josh, let go,” Amelia shrieked. Her struggles only made her swing around as she dangled in the air by her wrist. She launched bolt after bolt of shimmering magic at him, but the blast passed right through, cracking against the wall behind him.
“Stop!” he shouted, letting his skin snap back in place only around his face. His gray eyes met her with an intensity that chilled her to her core. “The curse needs to be broken, and we are out of time. It will be more unpleasant if I have to stay like this.” He made a waving kind of gesture, showing off his skeletal hand, and his voice softened. “My power is stronger when I’m like this, and it will hurt you more. But I will stay this way if you keep attacking me.”
“Go to hell,” she seethed, and launched everything she had right at his face. She wasn’t quick enough. His skin flicked away just in time for the white-blue light to shoot through his opened jaw.
“Do you want Cole to do it?” he yelled, dropping her wrist and wrapping his boney fingers around her shoulders, shaking her violently. “He’ll drain every last drop from you. He doesn’t care if you live through this!”
Amelia couldn’t stop herself from looking at Cole. It was as if her eyes were drawn to him, and she regretted not closing them. Cole’s sneer was sick and twisted, and there was murder in his eyes.
“I’ll try to make it quick,” Josh said, caressing her cheek. Amelia thought that the gesture was meant to be soft and caring, but his fingers were rough and cold, and his touch made her gag.
“Josh, don’t do this,” Amelia begged, the desperation was heavy in her voice, and she swallowed the urge to vomit. She struggled against his hold, but it was useless. She tried to pull on Mitchell’s senses, to gather strength, but she couldn’t grasp onto it.
A hair-raising scream resonated off the walls. Metal cracked and snapped. Amelia and Josh followed the sound and looked at the screen just in time to see Tristan step up behind Mitchell, and in a sifted motion, he grabbed hold of Mitchell’s head and twisted. Mitchell crumpled back against Tristan, and was swiftly dragged away.
Amelia screamed. Logically, she knew that he wasn’t really dead. She had watched Eric come back from a broken neck, but her mind didn’t want to process that. She screamed again and again and again. It was as if the filter from her brain to her lips was broken, and she just couldn’t stop the sound. Her heart broke; it felt as if someone had jammed their hand into her chest and ripped it out, shredding it into pieces.
Suddenly, Amelia was on her knees, and she felt as if she was paralyzed. There was another sobbing scream lodged in her throat, as if she had swallowed a rock that wouldn’t budge. Josh stepped back, and his skin inched back into place. An electric current pulsed from him like a heartbeat, thumping in time with hers. Lights flashed around him in blues, greens, and whites. It looked like the Northern Lights, as if he had harnessed them, letting them loose within the room.