The Soul's Mark: BROKEN

Page 2

Her body rolled, seemingly on its own, smacking against a metal wall with a thud that reverberated around her.
“Cole!” Josh’s voice growled from somewhere nearby, but Amelia couldn’t pull her eyes away from her lifeless looking form on the ground. “Secure them!”
“Amelia, what’s happening?” Megan’s small, scared voice smothered Amelia, suffocating her, and it felt as if she was drowning in the sound. “Are we dead? Did they kill us?”
Amelia couldn’t make her mouth work. She wanted to reassure Megan. She wanted so much to tell her that they were okay, but she just couldn’t. There were no words, no thoughts, nothing that could make this okay.
Cole materialized in Amelia’s line of vision, and he began straightening her legs, and moving her body around until she was lying flat on her back. For a fleeting moment, he was gone, but then he was there again, lying Megan down beside her. He rolled what appeared to be an old wool blanket up and lifted their heads, placing the bundle underneath them as a makeshift pillow. He wrapped them snuggly together in another itchy looking blanket before whispering, “I’m so sorry, Megs.” He bent and brushed his lips against her cheek and then vanished again.
Why would Josh care if we rolled around? Amelia wondered. If we’re dead…
Megan stepped beside her, threading her arm through Amelia’s, which to her utter surprise felt strong, stable, and solid. She narrowed her eyes further, studying their bodies closely. She fixed her eyes on their chests, waiting forever (or at least that’s how it felt) for them to rise and fill with air, but it didn’t come.
“You’ll both be fine,” a lilting voice reassured from behind Amelia. “Sorry about the dramatics, but this is the safest way to talk to you.”
The sound of a familiar voice filled her with an agonizing mix of fear and delight all at once. “Madame Crystal?” Amelia spun around to see the clairvoyant witch, who had helped her—and came close to ruining her life—not so long ago, floating a short distance away from her face. Her knee-length jet-black hair swayed around her as if there was a breeze that only reached her. Tiny laugh lines littered the corners of her almost completely black eyes, which held just a touch of violet around the pupils.
“Hi, Amelia,” she said with a big, gleaming white smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Amelia gaped at her for a moment before she lunged forwards and threw her arms around the psychic, crushing Madame Crystal in a fierce hug. Madame Crystal laughed, a singsong kind of sound, and squeezed her back just as fiercely.
Megan cleared her throat loudly. “Sorry to break up this little reunion, but seriously, I think the whole us being dead thing is a bit more important here.” Her voice squeaked, a high-pitched squeal, on the last word that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
Amelia’s eyes flitted over her lifeless body again, and then she buried her face in Madame Crystal’s shoulder. This can’t be happening, she thought over and over. We can’t be dead. Because if they were dead, then that meant Madame Crystal was dead, and most likely her entire family were dead, and that was something that Amelia couldn’t believe—wouldn’t consider.
“You’re not dead, dear,” Madame Crystal said. She gave Amelia another squeeze and then stepped back, grinning widely. “As I said, this was the safest way to talk to you guys.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped, and her forehead scrunched. Not dead? She opened her mouth to demand an explanation, because seriously, their spirits were floating over their bodies and they looked … dead. Megan made a frustrated sound somewhere between a grunt and a growl, stopping Amelia before she could blurt out her questions. Megan’s lips were a thin line of annoyance, and she glared daggers at Madame Crystal. She drummed her fingers on her hips, and her eyes narrowed to little slits.
“Meg, stop it,” Amelia said, watching her cousin’s reaction. “She’s a psychic and a witch, and she is my friend.” Amelia held the glare until Megan backed down, and then she turned back to Madame Crystal. The psychic was grinning widely. It seemed so out of place and wrong. But the grin sparked Amelia’s curiosity. “How are you doing this?” she asked.
“Magic,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “And with a little help from your mother.” The twinkle fizzled away as if a candle had suddenly been put out, and her face darkened. “There’s someone working with the hunters. He’s manipulating them, working them like puppets.” She raised her hands, her fingers dancing through the air as if she was working the strings of a marionette.
“Who?” Amelia asked. Or maybe the better question was what. The hunters, Cole and Josh specifically, were strong. They had easily squashed her attempts at using magic against them, and the thought that someone, or something, was actually controlling them sent shivers rushing over her skin.
“I don’t know,” Madame Crystal said with a small shake of her head. “My visions only stretch so far, and he is masking my attempts. It’s like he knows someone is watching.” A small shiver visibly ran through her, and her eyes hardened. “I’ve almost reached Mitchell. I’m going to lead him to you, so be ready. That is, if I can tell him where you are before he kills me for helping you the last time.”
“What do you mean ‘the last time?’” Megan asked, but it came out as more of a challenge than a question. And with a sideways glance, Amelia quickly noticed Megan’s tense and freaked out stance.
“It’s kind of a long story, Meg, but she helped me block Mitchell’s connection to me when I first met him,” Amelia said dismissively, hoping Megan would relax a bit as she tried to work through what was going on. A thought dawned on her then. “Wait a minute,” Amelia said, as her eyes widened and her heart tightened. “My mother is helping you? You know my mother?”
“Amelia, focus,” Madame Crystal said, clasping Amelia’s face in her hands, forcing her to pay attention and listen. “The one that is behind all of this is waiting for you. You need to be prepared. Whatever you do, do not harm the hybrids. You need their alliance to save the ones you love.”
Amelia knew Madame Crystal was talking. She could see her lips moving, she could even hear the soft lilting notes of her voice, but the only thing her brain registered was ‘a little help from your mother.’ It wasn’t often that Amelia was left speechless, but right now, she was. It wasn’t that she didn’t have words she wanted to say. She did. The problem was they were all fighting to get out at once, getting all jumbled up together and lodged in her mouth.
“They want to kill the ones we love!” Megan shouted, snapping Amelia out of her stupor.
Madame Crystal let her hands fall from Amelia’s cheeks. She smiled and shrugged, just a small lift of the shoulders. “True, but in time they will see that you all share a common enemy.”
“I see you still like to talk in stupid riddles,” Amelia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look annoyed, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“I have a message from your mother,” Madame Crystal said, choosing to ignore Amelia’s saucy tone. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look that Amelia thought was far too serious, and for a second, her heart stopped beating. “Your choices from your past lifetimes are coming to a head. It is now time to pick which path of destiny you will follow. Choose wisely, because your choice in this lifetime can end the cycle.”
“What are you talking about?” Amelia scoffed, and began nervously twisting a long curl of her hair around her finger. “What cycle? What choices?” And why can’t you just speak like a normal person?
“You already know,” Madame Crystal said, her voice floating through the air as her body began to flicker.
“Wait! Why does Josh think my destiny is to be with him?” Amelia asked frantically, but the psychic was already gone.
Megan’s jaw dropped, literally, and Amelia was sure her own expression looked just as stunned. What was all of that supposed to mean? her nagging brain questioned. And what does my mother have to do with this?
“Was that supposed to be helpful?” Megan asked. “And how are we supposed to get back into…” Megan’s words fell short, and were replaced by a gasping screech.
Suddenly, Amelia felt as if she was being sucked up by a vacuum. It started slow, a small pull at her toes, and she watched her floating frame stretch towards her body. As soon as her virtual toes touched her real ones, the suction increased, pulling at her from all sides as it tried to make her one with herself.
The twisting and distortion seemed to last for hours, and when the last pull came, it was jarring enough to snap her spirit back in place. Megan groaned beside her and whispered, “That was so not cool.”
“Really?” Amelia whispered, shifting slightly so she could see Megan beside her, because honestly, she thought it was awesome, and whatever Madame Crystal had done was now close to the top of her list of witchy things she wanted to learn. Megan rolled her eyes.
Amelia had been right. The blanket was horribly itchy, and Cole had tucked them together so tightly that she could hardly move. She began squirming around, trying to loosen the blanket, and wiggled her way out of the cocoon of skin-crawling, itchy wool.
Once she was out, she ripped the blanket off Megan while surveying their situation under the dim fluorescent lighting. They were in some kind of commercial van. There was a small, closed door at the front that led to the cab, and she could hear the muted voices of Cole and Josh from behind it.
Amelia turned around, looking for anything they could use to get out. It was empty, aside from them, a few blankets, and a small stack of weaponry. She went straight for the weapons, and was sadly disappointed. Arrows with no bows, guns with no bullets.
“Maybe we could use the arrows like knives?” Megan asked in a hushed tone.
“Maybe,” Amelia agreed, and then her voice quivered as she noticed the silence in her mind. There was no hum, no thoughts, no vibrations. Just deafening silence. “Meg, I can’t feel Mitchell.”