The Soul's Mark: BROKEN

Page 8

She didn’t have time to toss the idea around. Tristan walked over to the television and adjusted the volume. An ear-piercing scream penetrated her head. “There’s something I’d like you to see,” he said with a throaty chuckle.
Amelia couldn’t pull her eyes away from the screen as Cole dragged Erin across the floor. Erin’s screams were agonizing, and there was a red glow surrounding her that resembled jumping flames. Cole unlocked the bird style cage that held Megan and threw Erin in. He laughed, a cruel sound, and the flames dissolved with a brilliant puff of red smoke. The screams faded, replaced by gasping sobs, as Erin collapsed in the cage.
“Do you know what happens to a vampire when they are in pain?” Tristan asked, watching the screen intently. Amelia couldn’t answer. She couldn’t say it out loud. But Tristan obviously could. “It’s really quite entertaining to watch. Erin may try and fight the hunger, and she might succeed for a day, maybe two, but soon she won’t be able to control herself, and with her being so young, she won’t be able to just take a little sip.”
“You can’t do this!” Amelia screamed. She thrashed about uselessly in the bed, trying to break free.
“I’m just taking care of my soulmate, Amelia. I thought you of all people would understand. The poor thing needs blood, so I’m handing her a perfectly good meal on a silver platter.” He grinned and slipped out of the door, calling over his shoulder, “Enjoy the show.” And then the door shut with a loud click.
CHAPTER 7
Sally was definitely eccentric. Mitchell figured that was the nicest way to describe her, although it didn’t really cover the whole of her unique personality quite right. When she had said that there was something he needed to know about Amelia’s past lives, she wasn’t kidding. But the thing was, she hadn’t just recounted the past, which she claimed that Amelia’s mother had shown her, but she had acted it out, toying with magic to paint the scene, and she projected it on the wall as if they had been watching a movie on a large screen in the theater. And she had done it with an oddball kind of smile that clearly showed she wasn’t entirely there, or here, for that matter.
“Does she know?” Mitchell asked, still trying to wrap his head around the farfetched tale. He wasn’t the only one. Luke, Lola, Angelle, Eric, Tyler; they all looked skeptical. Mitchell had always known that Amelia had a complicated past. Her troubles with magic, the way she fought the bond, her acceptance issues. All the signs were there. But this…this was more than complicated.
“Yes, although I don’t think she realizes she does yet,” Sally replied, as that oddball smile spread across her face again. It was almost as if in some sick way she enjoyed watching them all squirm. “But I assure you that the memories are there. She just needs to look for them.” She eyed Mitchell, with a strange intensity, and laughed, clapping her hands together in excitement. “I’m quite pleased at how calm you are. I expected to die the moment I walked through your door.”
Mitchell scrubbed at his face and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. He guessed it was a fair statement, and he figured he probably deserved it, but really, did everyone think he was a loose cannon? Sure, he had made some mistakes where Amelia was concerned, but really, did his mind-set from the last eight months wipe away all the good he had done in the eight hundred years before that? And aside from that, there was no denying that she was a powerful witch. She had already knocked him off balance and paralyzed him. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could kill her, even if he had wanted to. He sighed loudly and said, “The last time Amelia went missing it was someone that I wanted to kill that helped me save her. I figured I should hear you out before ripping out your throat.”
The color drained from the psychic’s face, and she shifted in her seat nervously. It made Mitchell wonder if she really was as strong as she was trying to portray. Could the little show of power have drained her already? The nervousness didn’t last though, and she shrugged. “Like I said before, you’re just a big old teddy bear, and something tells me you don’t actually enjoy killing like most vampires. You’re in touch with Amelia’s humanity, and it’s stronger than any connection I’ve ever seen.” She narrowed her eyes and looked him over, taking her time to study every visible inch of him, and then nodded with a wide smile. “Yes, I can see it.”
Mitchell held her stare for an excruciatingly long minute, and she gave him a look that dared him to deny it. And it was actually a shock to him when he couldn’t.
“How does Megan tie into all of this?” Eric asked, breaking through the awkward moment. He had finally become fed up with the hood of his sweater hitting him in the face and had put it on right. It didn’t really help his disheveled appearance or his testy tones. He was chomping at the bit, and Mitchell was sure that the only thing stopping him from running out the door to track Megan was his firm hand on Eric’s shoulder holding him in the chair.
“Every witch is only as strong as their coven,” Sally said, giving Eric an encouraging look. “Megan is Amelia’s backbone. Without Megan, she will not be victorious in this lifetime.”
“And you’re sure that we need the cross-breeds?” Luke questioned.
“I’m certain,” Sally said with a nod to herself, as if confirming her own statement, and then she turned her darkened eyes back on Mitchell. “Mitchell, you need to know that if Amelia lives through this, it may not be for you. If you stand in her way, the path will inevitably lead to your final death.”
“I understand,” he said with conviction. He was done controlling her, not that he had ever really been able to in the first place. Amelia was a free spirit and headstrong. But he’d be flat out lying if he tried to say that he’d be okay with her picking the other path that dangled before her. He’d rather die, but he knew he wouldn’t stand in her way either. If she picked him, it would be because he had earned it, not because he made her. He guessed that he really was getting the chance to prove to her that he wasn’t a big jerk just as he had promised he would. It just sucked that proving it might mean stepping back and watching her leave or even letting her kill him. Could past lives really change a person that much? He wasn’t sure, but he really, really hoped they couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine the Amelia of today actually killing him, at least not now after everything they had been through together.
The psychic flicked her long hair out of the way, put her elbows on the island, and rested her chin in the palms of her hands. A frown spread over her forehead, creating a v-shaped crease between her eyes. “But will you make the same mistakes again?”
“No,” he said firmly. And he knew he wouldn’t. You don’t live eight hundred years by making the same mistakes over and over.
Eric blanched and pushed up with force, trying to stand, but Mitchell kept him in place. When he realized his struggle was useless, he stopped moving and asked nervously, “And me?”
Sally looked at Eric and smiled, just a small curve of the lips. “Megan only lives for you in this life,” she said. “If she is changed, her other paths will cease to exist.”
“Can you see them now?” Lola asked bluntly, and sneered. “Are you sure they are still alive?” Her voice dripped with contempt, as if she personally blamed Amelia and Megan for their current predicament.
Luke shot Lola a look that Mitchell had never seen him use on her before. It was hard, cold, and disapproving; it was the look that Mitchell had been receiving for the last few months. “Have some tact, Lola,” he seethed. “Our family is in danger. Don’t act like you don’t care.”
This is bad, a voice in Mitchell’s head chanted over and over, as he watched Lola squirm under Luke’s stare and mumble a weak apology. Lola was outspoken. She always had been, and Luke always humored her. It was just her way of dealing with stress. But for Luke to reprimand her publicly … it could only mean one thing. He was about to crack. And a cracked Luke was not something any of them needed or wanted to see right now.
Sally picked up on the tension that had fallen upon them and reached across the table, patting Lola’s arm. “They are for now. The figure behind this is playing with them. I don’t think he’s ready to end this.”
Mitchell forced himself to take a long breath. His fear was hot, and a sickening shiver skidded around his stomach. Playing with them. He didn’t want to think about what that could mean, because when he did, his imagination ran wild with grisly images of torture. He let out the breath slowly. “Why can’t we feel them?” Mitchell asked.
“Because someone is tapping into Amelia’s energy stream,” Sally said happily, with a dreamy look in her eyes. She sat back in her chair and let out a longing sigh. “They’re using the girls’ power to mask their connections to you two. It’s really amazing. Those cross-breeds must have a lot of kick to them. Handling magic from the Caldwell coven is not easily done. The power tends to have a mind of its own.”
Mitchell swallowed the snarl that tried to escape at the thought of someone else using Amelia’s magic against her. His shoulders tensed, the muscles under his skin rolled, and it took every bit of will power he had to stay seated and probe the psychic for more information. “And you cannot see who is doing all this?”
“No, not clearly, but I can see that his motives revolve around you,” she said to Mitchell.
He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Of course it does.” The movement was a mistake. As soon as his hand left Eric’s shoulder, he shot up out of his chair. Mitchell had to wrestle him back to his chair.
“Eric, you can’t just rush out there. If you make a wrong move, it could get them killed,” Luke said, as his eyes narrowed and his lips formed a thin line. “We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with here.”
Mitchell guessed that the old saying held some truth; karma really was a bitch. There was a tug-of-war going on inside him. One side wanted to start a war and mindlessly kill anyone or anything that stood in his way of finding Amelia, but the sensible side was fighting for him to stand down, listen to logic, and most importantly, to not make a move until he knew what he was dealing with.