The Soul's Mark: BROKEN

Page 5

Tristan was murmuring something that Amelia couldn’t make out. He had one thick black boot planted in the center of Josh’s chest, the other on the ground. From where Amelia stood, she could see his milky glass eyes focused on Cole. “Tristan, please,” she begged, terrified to move.
He just smiled at her, a full toothy smile, and said, “I believe Josh warned you about using magic on us. Her death is on you.”
Cole focused back down at his target. Megan was still out, peacefully sleeping on the ground below him. Josh growled something at Tristan, but Amelia had no clue what it was. Tristan began murmuring to Cole again, and Cole centered the arrow, lining it up squarely on Megan’s chest.
Amelia couldn’t think. Tristan was a good ten feet in front of her, Cole fifteen. She wouldn’t be able to get to either before the arrow found its mark, and she knew that if she tried, they would move faster than her human legs could go. She tried tapping into Mitchell’s senses. She called to Mitchell. She screamed into Megan’s brain. She willed Josh to get up and fight. But it was useless.
Tristan’s purely evil smile widened, and blistering heat rushed through Amelia’s veins in response, pulling her out of panic mode. She summoned her power, and sent out a thread of white-blue light, snapping it like a whip around Tristan’s midsection, and then she yanked.
Tristan lost his balance for a split second, but that was enough for Josh to slip out from under his foot and launch himself at Cole. Amelia kept yanking, pulling the rope of magic as if she was in a tug-of-war match, keeping Tristan slightly off balance.
Cole released the arrow just as Josh tackled him to the ground. Megan shot up, and her blood-curdling scream ripped through the dawning morning like a herd of banshees.
The sound punctured Amelia’s eardrums. Any focus she had rushed away, and the strand of magic that held Tristan dissipated and then vanished. Tristan was on Amelia faster than her mind could comprehend. He raised his arm and swung at her, and then she was flying through the air.
Growls, grunts, and screams echoed around her, and then they were gone. Amelia slammed into the side of the house with a cracking thud. The air rushed from her lungs. Her vision blurred.
Tristan moved in on her, gliding along the ground like a snake. Amelia tried to scramble to her feet, but every inch of her body screamed out with breathtaking pain. He laughed, and Amelia swore she saw three sets of fangs in his toothy smile.
Her heart raced, and her blood ran cold. Tristan bent down, crouching in front of her, and he began speaking to her. She could see his lips moving, but the sound of his voice evaded her ears. Suddenly his hand shot out, and he buried his fingers in the thick of her curls. He yanked her to her feet, holding her by her hair against the cold brick of the house.
Amelia whimpered. She felt it bubbling from her belly, through her lungs, and up her throat. She tried to swallow it. She didn’t want to give Tristan the satisfaction, but she couldn’t do it. It gurgled out of her lips, and his eyes flashed with unmistakable pleasure.
With his free hand, he grabbed Amelia’s chin and turned her head, holding her neck at a close to breaking angle. She could feel her pulse drumming in her throat, and his breath pushing against her skin. His lips were surprisingly, and nauseatingly, soft as they pressed against her neck. They trailed up to her ear, and his voice sent a rolling chill down her spine. “You smell like sweet flowers,” he murmured. And right then, his fangs slid under her skin, and Amelia felt her blood being sucked from her body.
****
Every muscle, every bone, every inch of skin hurt. Her eyes felt swollen, and it hurt to swallow. Amelia forced her eyes open and then squeezed them shut against the bright light that glared from overhead. She tried to cover them, but her hands were stuck beside her.
“Don’t move,” a deep voice urged, and a warm hand threaded through hers. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and you’re pretty broken up.”
“Mitchell?” Amelia croaked, and she tried to open her eyes again. She peeled them apart to little slits, and her heart broke when she saw the face that was looking down at her.
“I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that bloodsucker,” Josh said in a toxic tone.
A swarm of memories filled Amelia. Cole and Josh kidnapping them. Tristan’s beady eyes. Cole shooting Megan. Amelia felt cold and hot and sick. “Where’s Meg?” she demanded, struggling again to move. Hot pain shot through her limbs, stealing her breath. Sweat broke out along her forehead and back.
“Amelia, please don’t struggle. You’ll only make it worse,” Josh urged, and brushed some matted curls from her sweaty forehead. “Megs is alive.”
Amelia glared at him, or at least that’s what she tried to do, but her eyes were so swollen that she wasn’t sure if she succeeded. “Where is she?” she demanded again, her voice catching and shaking on another blast of excruciating pain.
Something happened then that Amelia didn’t understand. Josh’s eyes widened, and a look of disbelief mixed with paranoid fear flitted across his face. He clamped his lips shut, biting on them as if he was fighting against the urge to answer her. He trembled, but not in the losing skin kind of way. Amelia thought it was more like he was trembling to keep his lips from moving, as if the effort in doing so was a strain on his body. He paled and squeezed her hand a bit tighter, and then, with a long and gusty sigh, he pointed across the room. Amelia followed his outstretched finger, and her eyes landed on a large television screen fixed to a gray cement wall in front of her.
“No,” she gasped, and tears sprung to her eyes as she took in the cage that held Megan’s beaten form. Her eyes were closed, and blue welts dotted every inch of her skin. Her arms were stretched out, and her wrists were secured to the cage with thick, gold chains; her ankles were chained as well. Blood dripped from puncture wounds on both of her wrists.
Amelia jerked up, and a loud crack resonated around her, mixing in with her own agonizing scream. Her eyes shot to the pain, and she almost threw up when she saw the bone protruding from her forearm.
“Amelia, please don’t move,” Josh begged, and his voice cracked in agony. Golden light washed over her, and the pain receded. That’s when she noticed the glowing chains that surrounded her wrists. The same chains that were holding Megan. They shimmered with magic. Josh must have noticed her staring at them, because he said, “It’s for your own safety.” He fixed his eyes on the ground and whispered, “So you can’t hurt yourself with your magic.”
His words made no sense. But then nothing was making sense. How was she still alive? How was Megan’s heart still beating? That’s when she noticed the silence. The missing buzz of thoughts. The lack of pulling at her heart. I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that bloodsucker, Josh’s words replayed in her mind. Her throat felt tight, and the pain in her chest was unbearable. “Did you kill him?” she asked with a voice as utterly empty as she felt.
Josh didn’t answer. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her as if he couldn’t understand what she was asking. Amelia’s white-hot rage spiked, and all she could see was red. She fought against the restraints, ignored the snapping and cracking of her bones. Her blood boiled, masking the pain she would certainly feel later. She summoned her magic, gathered it together in the pit of her stomach, and sent out a blast. It formed at her chest, peeking out, and then with a puff, the white glowing ball dispersed into thin air.
Amelia tried again. She could feel the magic coursing through her veins. She pushed on it, expelling it from her body, and just like before, it vanished as soon as it hit the air.
Confusion hit her first, and then pain. Her breath was coming hard and fast, and a scream ripped from her throat. And then she smelled it. Cotton candy, honey suckle, and gumdrops. Before she could try to fight it, her breathing regulated, her pain melted away, and her thoughts fogged together.
“Amelia.” Josh’s voice made her skin sizzle. “I don’t want to have to force you to accept this, but I will if you make me.”
Amelia sighed, inhaling the sweet scent. She smiled at him. His yellow-green eyes shone brightly, and she giggled. “Can you keep your skin on?” she asked, and then she giggled again.
“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he said. He bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead, and then he murmured, “Now stay still. I’m going to try to mend your bones.”
CHAPTER 5
Erin tiptoed down the grand staircase, hugging the wall closely. She stretched her senses, listened for any movement close by, and held her breath until she picked up the voices of her family. She picked out each one, and by the sound of it, they were still all gathered in the kitchen planning out the rescue mission with Madame Crystal. But now, Erin was positive it was too late. She was certain Amelia was already dead.
She had snuck away from the meeting when the first squeeze around her heart had come. Her family hadn’t noticed her leave the room, and they hadn’t noticed when the pull around her chest made her crash to the floor on her way out of the kitchen. Their focus was on the psychic, and their thoughts on Amelia and Megan.
During the past several months, Erin had spent hours upon hours studying the journals with Amelia, helping her hone in on her powers. And right now, the knowledge that she had picked up was resurfacing and filling her with heartbreak. She knew that there were only a few ways to break a spell. The first and easiest way was for the witch that cast it to lift it. Other than that, there were only two other ways. One was for another witch to break it using the same magic that cast it, and the other was for the original witch to die the final death. The last option was the one Erin feared the most. The one where Amelia was dead and never coming back.
Erin wanted to believe that Amelia wasn’t dead, but it was the only thing that made sense. She was from the first coven. It would be next to impossible for another witch to tap into that kind of power and break the spell that Amelia had cast to change her bond with Tristan. And that spell was definitely broken. She could feel him, hear him … Tristan was a part of her again.