The Soul's Mark: HUNTED

Page 10

Amelia tried to change the subject several times. She had really hoped to get some ideas for the few remaining empty booths. The fair was only two weeks away and there was still so much to plan and organize, but it was useless. Angelle had a one-track mind, and no matter what Amelia tried, Angelle was so excited with her new scheme that there was just no veering from the topic.
When they had all finished up, Angelle was still building the seduce Mitchell plan. Tyler paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. It was raining when they got outside, and the four of them rushed towards the car.
“Millie,” a deep baritone called, and she glanced over her shoulder at the customer who had exited the diner behind them. He was waving at her and sauntering in her direction. He looked vaguely familiar. Amelia thought he was cute in a young man kind of way. He was a bit chubby as if he was still carrying some baby fat, and he had a bit of stubble on his chin, which looked slightly out of place. His gray eyes sparkled like shiny sterling silver.
“Hey,” Amelia replied, stopping and turning around. She racked her brain, trying to place a name to the face, but she was drawing a blank.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, quickly closing the distance between them with three long strides. He flashed a chubby cheeked grin and started fishing around in his messenger bag. “I was gonna drop this off for you later, but since you’re here...” He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “Sorry it’s so late. I know you’ve been waiting for me to return it.”
“No problem,” Amelia said, trying not to stare as she took the envelope. Clearly, he knew her, not that that really helped. Everyone who knew Mitchell knew who she was. Maybe he’s from school? She wasn’t sure, but that seemed like a safe guess.
“Millie, hurry up,” Eric shouted, and then she heard the car door slam and the engine rumble to life.
The rain was picking up from a drizzle and was quickly soaking through her shirt. “It was great seeing you again, um,” she stammered, taking a step backwards towards the car.
“Cole,” he said with a wink. Amelia gave him an awkward little wave and was about to jog to the car when he asked, “When did you get that tattoo?”
“What tattoo?” she asked, dumbstruck.
“On your neck.” He pointed and Amelia couldn’t be sure, but was that a sneer marring his cute face? “You’ll probably regret putting his name on you like that.”
She narrowed her eyes, sifting through her memory. She searched and searched, hoping to pull up anything, anything at all that she knew about this guy, but nothing was coming to mind. “Look, I’ve got to go, but thanks,” she said, stuffing the envelope in her purse. Talk about awkward, she thought as she spun around and jogged off to the car.
“See you around,” Cole called after her, and Amelia gave a quick wave. Okay, not a local, she thought as she retreated. If he was from around here, he surely would have known about the mark. She jumped in the car, soaked to the bone.
“Who was that?” Tyler asked, as Amelia fastened her seat belt.
Amelia shrugged. “He said his name was Cole. To be honest, I really don’t remember him, but he wanted to return this.” Amelia pulled the envelope out of her purse and flashed it for the others to see.
“What is it?” Eric asked. He snatched it from her hands and ripped it open. “A DVD?”
Amelia grabbed it back and gave him a playful punch. He chuckled. “I guess,” she said, looking it over. It was in a little white sleeve with no labels. “It’s probably just notes from class or something. I must have leant it.” That was the best explanation she could come up with. It made sense though, since she always burned her notes onto a disk just in case. Computers were great, but they weren’t reliable, and she had learned firsthand what happens when they crash.
It was still raining steadily when they got home, and it didn’t look like it would let up anytime soon. Not that she minded the rain. It was April, and the rainfall had chased off the horrible heat wave from the week before. After changing out of her drenched clothes, Amelia settled down in the media room to watch a movie. She settled on a sappy romance and curled up on one of the beanbag chairs. Still chilled from the rain, she pulled a throw around herself.
She was too restless, annoyed, and frustrated to notice the movie, and before she knew it, her thoughts drifted to Mitchell. She wanted to be mad and jealous and hurt, but all she could think about was Angelle’s seduce Mitchell plan. Could Tyler be right? Was Mitchell just holding back and waiting for her to make the first move? Amelia wished she knew, but she didn’t, and the whole idea of his possible rejection made her stomach flip in somersaults.
“Did you have a nice time with Eric?” Mitchell asked from the doorway.
For a second, Amelia thought about ignoring him, closing her eyes, and pretending to be asleep. Instead, she clenched her teeth and glared. “Enough! I’ve had more than I can take of this crap between you guys. Get over it already. I kissed Eric. It was like eight months ago, and it was just a stupid kiss.”
She held her breath for a scared moment, feeling the blood rush from her cheeks as she realized what she had actually said. None of them had really talked about it, and she had never fully admitted the kiss to Mitchell before. He knew about it. He had seen it over and over, replaying her memory through the bond, like a slow torture.
He pulled the door shut behind him and crossed the room, taking up the empty beanbag chair beside her. “I wasn’t trying to fight with you,” Mitchell said, fixing his gaze on the movie. “I was just asking.”
“Oh,” she responded lamely, totally lost for words. It was unexpected, but man, did she ever feel stupid at that moment.
After a long, incredibly awkward and painfully silent moment, Mitchell pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, pressing her against his lithe body. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you more than anything in this world.” He leaned in and kissed her turbulently, with such a need and urgency that it made something in her growl, deep within her gut. This was nothing like the soft, teasing kisses they usually shared. The passion ripped through her. Her body tingled and she tried to get closer, burying her hands in his hair.
The kiss only lasted seconds, but when they came up for air, they were both panting. Mitchell shifted his hungry gaze away from her and licked his swollen lips. “I have to go out,” he whispered so quietly, that if it hadn’t been for their bond, she wouldn’t have heard the words. As it was, she had only felt them, and it felt as if he had kicked her in the ribs, knocking the air out of her. Was he really going to come in here and kiss her like that and then leave? “You don’t understand,” he said desperately when he felt her reaction. “It’s not what you think.”
Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it when no sound came out. She wanted to stand up and move away from him, but her knees felt weak and shaky, and she didn’t trust them to hold her weight. Not yet anyways. Her eyes started to burn, and she wanted to cry, but she sucked it back, determined not to let him see how much she was hurting, and she let the anger take her over. “Then enlighten me because, seriously, the guilt that’s pouring off you doesn’t give me much to believe here.”
A cool, calm remoteness settled upon his face as he realized that Fiona was what was bothering her so much. “Believe whatever you want, Amelia. Now you know how I feel. With Eric and you and your stupid rules, why don’t you break them and see if I’m telling the truth? Go ahead and look.”
Amelia was about to. She really wanted to dig in and find something, anything to justify her anger. But then she got a quick flash of a thought. He wanted her to break the rule, give him a free pass to confirm his suspicions about her and Eric, and she would be damned if she was going to give him that. She pulled herself out of his lap and turned her attention back to the television, pretending to watch the movie.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him get up and shuffle back and forth for a few minutes, and then he sighed and left her alone.
CHAPTER 7
Where the hell am I? Eric wondered as he took in his surroundings. He turned around slowly, hoping to pick out something he recognized on the dark suburban street.
On each side of him were small cookie-cutter houses, all with the same long driveways and little front gardens. As he continued to turn, he caught sight of the glowing Willowberg Blood Bank sign at the end of the street, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was still in Willowberg.
But how did I get here? He didn’t know. The last thing he remembered, he had been in his room reading up on ghosts, trying to find a way to contact Megan. He was sure she was dead. It seemed like this could be the only logical explanation to the strange dreams. If she wasn’t dead, then he would be able to feel her presence, and he couldn’t. Not like before. He had been in bed. The sun had just started to set and… “I fell asleep,” he whispered. His heart jumped with excitement. “Megan?” he called. He spun around, frantically scanning the neighborhood.
Nothing. No Megan. The street was whisper quiet. His heart plummeted. Was it possible that he wasn’t sleeping? Everything around him seemed so real. The pavement beneath his feet, the cool night breeze ruffling his hair, the fresh, dewy scent.
It has to be a dream, he thought as he started down the sidewalk heading towards the blood bank, moving quickly, but keeping his eyes peeled as he moved along the street. The silence seemed to sink deeper. He couldn’t even hear the sound of his shoes smacking against the pavement.
Then suddenly out of nowhere a white light flourished in front of him, growing brighter and brighter. Eric’s heartbeat sped up. It reminded him of the movies, and he could almost hear someone say, walk into the light. He peered into it, letting his eyes gradually adjust. In the center, a shadow materialized. Megan, was the first thing that popped into his mind. Maybe she traveled in the light? Spirits did that, right?
The shadow moved closer, filling out and taking substance. Eric blinked. Standing in front of him was Mitchell, looking straight at him, with such an intensity it was as if he was looking through him. Eric’s jaw dropped, literally. Why would he dream of Mitchell?