Amelia ran over the list again, and then sighed. “How did I get myself into this mess?” she mumbled to herself. “And how do I get out of it?”
“You look conflicted, and you really need a shower,” Luke said, as Amelia rounded the corner and his cell came into view.
“You think?” she replied testily. She shifted the warm bags of blood, cradling them in one arm, and then took one from the top, handing it through the bars to Luke. He snagged it so quickly that Amelia jumped and almost dropped the other one.
The sound Luke made when he bit into the plastic made her gag. It was somewhere between a moan of ecstasy and a purely animalistic snarl, and the sounds just didn’t match. He tore into the bag, the thick, red liquid splashing up onto his face, but he didn’t stop. It was as if the blood was controlling him, as if he couldn’t stop until the last drop was gone. And even then, he licked up every bit, using his finger as a squeegee, sliding it along his cheeks, chin, and forehead, licking up the drops until he had ingested every last bit.
When he finished, he looked at Amelia and gave her that familiar big brother smile he always used with her and said, “I may be wrong, but I’m guessing you saw Mitchell.” Amelia couldn’t answer. She was scared that if she opened her mouth the bile that was trying to escape her throat would spew out, so she nodded, just a small bob of the head. “This is what you made him, you know,” Luke pointed out. His hazel eyes looked just as inquisitive as always, and it sent a chill over her skin. How could he be so different and yet so the same all at once?
“I know,” she sighed in response and wandered down the hall towards Eric who was thankfully curled up in a ball on the cold, hard floor, snoring softly. She thought about waking him, dying to see his grin, but then the image of Luke eating popped into her mind, and she tossed a bag in for him and then scurried away in case he woke up, because her stomach seriously couldn’t handle watching that again.
“You can’t have it both ways, kiddo.”
“What are you talking about, and how do you already know everything?” she snapped, glaring at him. Was he just trying to get under her skin? Was he playing mind games, hoping to distract her? Dammit! Amelia’s conscious screamed in frustration. She needed them right now, and it was her own fault that she couldn’t trust any of them.
Luke tugged on his earlobe. “Enhanced hearing,” he smirked. “I’ve been listening, and yes, I heard you and the hunter last night.”
Amelia felt the blush flaring in her cheeks. “It was nothing, Luke.”
“You can’t lie to me, kiddo.” He chuckled. “I can smell it, and right now you’re starting to sweat, and you have a sharp scent. It’s sweat and guilt, and it’s running off of you like a flood.”
“It was just a kiss! It didn’t mean anything.”
Luke turned serious, the smirk vanished, and his eyes darkened with thought. “Do you want us all to die?” he asked, and then kept talking, not waiting for an answer as if it was a rhetorical question. “I remember that you hated us, but I also remember you loving us.” The way he said it was as if he was reading facts from one of her textbooks. There was no emotion behind the statement. They were simply just words.
“I do love you guys.”
“I remember loving Lola. It’s so weird.” He ran his fingers through his hair roughly. “I remember what it should feel like, but all I can actually feel now is a restless emptiness. It’s crazy, but I want to feel whole.”
“Oh, Luke,” Amelia whispered. She wasn’t sure what to think. She reached her hand between the bars, wanting to touch him, comfort him.
He watched her hand pass through, and his eyes washed red as he stared, fixated on her wrist. “Amelia, don’t come any closer,” he snarled, his fangs sliding into place.
Amelia jumped back, and her heart jumped forwards as if it was trying to beat right out of her chest.
Luke slapped his hand to his mouth, hiding his fangs, and the red vanished from his eyes. “Oh God, you have to fix this.”
“I will,” she promised, although she didn’t have the foggiest idea how.
Luke gave her a weak smile and then he turned his back on her, took a few steps and dropped down on the hard stone bench within his cell. She stood there for a moment, searching for something to say, and hoping that he would look at her because she really didn’t want to leave yet, but he didn’t. Holding in a frustrated sigh, she finally left, making her way through the dark and damp hallways, feeling worse than she had before she had seen him.
When she made it to her room, Amelia figured that Luke had been right, and she probably really did need a shower, especially since she couldn’t remember the last time she had actually had one. Before shutting herself in her room, she grabbed a handful of power bars and scarfed them down.
It was in the shower that she had started to think—really think. There was something about the hot water, the curling steam, and the pear-scented shampoo that helped clear the fog from her brain.
So far, she had been listening to Madame Crystal. Amelia realized that she hadn’t tried to fix the bond because the psychic said she didn’t have the power. That’s when Amelia remembered the last time she had blindly listened to Madame Crystal. Even though she had been helpful—kind of—Madame Crystal had also caused a huge mess with her visions and spells, and Amelia had to admit that she really hadn’t been all that right in her assumptions when it came to Amelia’s powers.
Now, wearing clean clothes and with wet hair, she sat on her bed in lotus ready to dive in and figure out a way to fix the bond. Amelia was certain her plan was fail proof. Watch the memory of her past, write down the spell Mother Nature had used, and fix the bond—simple.
She had replayed the memory over and over. The first few times all she could see was Mitchell. She had searched every inch of him. His hair had been longer, curlier, darker brown. His skin was tanned and bronzed from hours of working in the sun. But other than those few differences, it was Mitchell. His sculpted jaw line, chiseled muscles. His lips, so full and soft. And Amelia was certain that if his eyes had been open, they would be that wonderful cerulean, just like a clear summer sky.
Once she finally wrapped her head around the idea that it really was Mitchell and that she had loved him before, other things started to come into focus. After watching the scene for the fifteenth time, Amelia had managed to jot down the spell Mother Nature had used. She had been about to try it, figuring that it couldn’t hurt, and had just summoned up her power, when Josh found her.
“Holy crap, this is your bedroom?” he said, as he opened the door and then shut it behind him. He had changed and showered as well, Amelia noticed, and she also didn’t miss the fact that he was wearing one of Mitchell’s green and gray striped button-down shirts. And on closer scrutiny, she was also pretty sure the blue jeans were Mitchell’s as well.
“Go away, Josh,” Amelia said, trying not to notice how well he fit into Mitchell’s clothes. The jeans hugged him perfectly, and she was pretty sure he left his shirt unbuttoned on purpose.
He didn’t go away. Instead, he padded over to her, taking his time climbing the few steps to her, with a lazy grin spread on his face. “I had an idea,” he said, plopping down beside her. “What if we don’t fix the bond at all?”
Amelia took in a deep calming breath and closed her eyes, trying to pretend that she was focusing, but really, she just couldn’t look at his delicious chest any longer. He’s a hottie, she thought. As soon as the thought surfaced, Mitchell’s accusations came flooding back, and it made her feel all kinds of guilt. “Josh, I don’t have time for your crap,” she said hastily.
“Just hear me out, okay?” He slid closer to her, mussing up the comforter. Amelia looked at him and opened her mouth to tell him to go, but he stopped her before she could get it out. “You could just give the vamps back their souls. You took them away in the first place. Why not just break your original curse?”
His words left her speechless. Amelia let the idea bounce around her bra
in, and when he put his hand on her knee, rubbing small circles on the inside of her thigh, she didn’t pull away, hardly even noticing it. She was too busy trying figure out why she hadn’t even thought about just giving them their souls back. An image of the slithering darkness and the wildly dark power came back to her and she shivered.
“You don’t have to be with him,” Josh murmured. “You could get out of all of this and just move on. We could move on.”
Amelia didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. All she could see was the black energy consuming her, and corrupting her mind. Josh must have taken her silence as a yes, because suddenly, Amelia was on her back, with Josh on top of her. He laced his hands with hers, pinning them down just above her head, and he was smiling, peering down at her through hooded eyes. And then he lowered his head, closing the distance between them. His eyes were smoldering, and his lips looked so warm and inviting. Amelia’s skin felt as if it was on fire. And he smelled so good. So sweet that all she could think of was licking him, and kissing him, and …
“What the hell are you doing, Millie?” Tyler yelled.
Josh pulled his eyes away from Amelia, and looked at the door. “Get out!” he growled.
Amelia sucked in a breath, and blinked, and all at once, she noticed Josh’s weight and his body pressing against hers. Her magic simmered in her belly, steaming like a fresh pot of coffee, and then it flared, boiling over and shooting from her skin in a blast of blinding light.
And then, Josh wasn’t pressed against her anymore.
There was a crack and a thud, and Amelia bolted up, landing on the rug. Josh was sprawled out on the hardwood floor across the room, and Tyler rushed over to her. “You okay?” he asked, his eyes checking her from head to toe.
“Fine,” Amelia said, and glared at Josh, who was pulling himself off the floor.
The concern vanished from Tyler’s face, and it was replaced by a disgusted glare. “Good, because Madame Crystal is mumbling about the television,” he said, stopping Amelia before she could lash out at Josh, or explain that she was innocent and that this wasn’t what it looked like. “She says you need to come now.”
Josh eyed Tyler with barely hidden hatred, but then he smirked, and his eyes danced and sparkled as if he knew a secret. Amelia stiffened and wanted to slap the smirk from his face. He must have noticed, because he chuckled and then abruptly turned away, and headed out of the room.
“I’d be happy to put him in with Luke,” Tyler said, glaring daggers at Josh’s back.
“Nice idea, but he’d just lose his skin,” Amelia said, and then she made her way out of the room to find Madame Crystal.
They found her in the main floor living room. Megan was perched in a wingback chair with a clueless expression that Amelia was sure mirrored her own, and Cole stood behind her, his face an expressionless mask. Josh was already there, leaning against the back wall with his arms folded over his chest and the television remote in hand. His forehead was creased in a frown, and he nodded towards the couch where Madame Crystal was sitting with the kind of grin and vacant eyes that in a normal place would most likely land her in a straight jacket and a padded room. And she was filthy. Dirt streaked across her face, and her long black hair no longer shone with health. It was knotted together and hung down her back. She patted the cushion and said, “It’s started.”
“What’s started?” Amelia asked, as she sat down beside the psychic, taking her cold and clammy hand within her own, noticing the tears in Madame Crystal’s charcoal gray suit, and the stains on her blouse. Pungent power flared around her in spurts, as if a connection was fading in and out.
“Now, Josh,” Madame Crystal said, her voice vacant and expressionless. “It’s on channel five.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged as he lifted the remote and changed the channel. Before the picture was fully visible, a silky female voice drifted through the speakers. “An increase in murders is spreading throughout the state. Police are speculating that it is gang related, and they are working around the clock to find any solid leads.”
“Now eight,” Madame Crystal said.
Josh did what she said, switching the channel, and a new voice boomed out. “The death toll is piling up.”
“And twenty-three.” A manic glee tinted her voice, but her eyes remained hollow, her expression void. The only thing that told Amelia that she was to some extent present was the tight, close to bone-cracking, grip that Madame Crystal kept on her hand.
Amelia’s heart was pounding as he flicked the station. “Thirty-one dead.” It felt as if he had turned up the volume, and Amelia yanked her hand away from Madame Crystal and clasped her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the voices.
“Try forty-two,” Madame Crystal said, robotically, as if she wasn’t actually hearing the television, but hearing something else entirely.
“We get it!” Megan shouted. Before Josh could change the station again, she jumped up, fished the cord out from behind the television stand, and yanked, ripping the plug from the wall.
“It’s happening everywhere,” Cole said, stunned. Clearly, he hadn’t thought about what could be happening outside of Willowberg, but then Amelia was pretty sure none of them had. He fixed wide and scared eyes on Amelia. “You’ve got to fix this.”
How? a voice in her head shouted. Just tell me how! She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath, because really, she knew freaking out wasn’t going to help. She blinked a few times and then focused on the psychic. “Madame Crystal, have you had any luck with the spirits yet?” Amelia asked, trying to keep the desperate hope out of her voice.
“Nope, not one single bit, and please, call me Sally,” she said happily, and then she gave Amelia a gleaming white smile. “Maybe you should try contacting your mother.”
Amelia’s shoulders dropped. “Yeah, maybe,” she said. What was it about seeking help from her dead mother that creeped her out so much? Duh, it’s the dead part, her brain confirmed, with snarky sarcasm.
A hand fell on Amelia’s shoulder, and she blinked herself out of her thoughts and turned. Josh—badass vampire hunter and immortal—stood behind her with an expression that was anything but happy. “You’re thinking the world is ending, aren’t you?” he asked softly.
“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Amelia responded, curtly, narrowing her eyes. Maybe she was becoming harder, less susceptible to the pain and emptiness that death brought, but she couldn’t believe the people died and I’m so sad act Josh was attempting to convey. And come to think of it, it was his fault that Mabel, Fiona, Jess, Doug, Justin, and Amber were all dead. Had he killed them, or did he just give the order? It had become more than clear to her over the last two days that there was more to him than she had originally thought. He had been sweet—sort of—but he was also more than capable of being vicious. Which one was real? Amelia didn’t know, but the other side, the mean and soulless side, was more believable. It seemed more … natural, more him.
Josh scrunched his forehead. “Do you really think that little of me?”
“Let’s see,” Amelia said, holding out her hand and ticking things off as she spoke. “You threatened to kill me. You tried to kill my family, and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that you actually did kill some of them.” She paused, watching his face closely for any sign of guilt, but if he felt it, it didn’t show. His face was like a blank slate, and after another hard examination, she went on. “You kidnapped me. You used my power to break the bond that I didn’t want broken. Oh, and we might as well add your latest trick to the list. You used your magic to try and take advantage of me. Yup, I think I do.”
“You don’t really mean that.” He moved around the couch, taking a stand in front of her. He reached out a hand, and looked as if he was about to tuck her hair behind her ear, and she jerked away. If she had, or even still did feel something for him, she was now one hundred percent sure that it was nothing more than a sense of obligation, and she
was certainly not going to let him think anything different, at least not anymore. Right now she was thinking of sticking with the I was scared and alone excuse for even considering him, or maybe the I kind of made you so I thought I should see if it would work explanation, but either way she looked at it, neither of them sounded like a good reason for her weak moment.
“Yeah, actually I do,” she said. She stood up and moved around him, careful not to touch him, and started out of the room when her phone hummed, vibrating in her pocket. She fished it out, tapping the screen without even looking at it, and then she pulled it to her ear. “Hello?” she said absently, her brain desperately trying to work through the new developments.
“Thank God,” breathed the voice on the other end of the phone. It was silent for a second, and then a frantic slew of words blasted through the speaker. “Amelia, what’s happening? My mark’s gone. All of our marks are gone, and Greg hasn’t been home since last night. He freaked out and just took off, and I can’t feel him. I’m scared he’s dead, and my mark is gone and … and … and …” A sob and hard, erratic breathing pounded through the line.
“Zooey, sweetie, take a breath,” Amelia said, trying to keep her voice even and strong, although she was pretty sure she didn’t succeed. Guilt was rushing in like a flash storm, pouring down on her, and soaking her to the bone. She should have told them—prepared them. But she hadn’t. Hell, she hadn’t even personally stopped at their houses yesterday. McLean had.
“That’s the problem. I can’t breathe. He’s gone, Amelia. He’s just gone. He won’t answer his phone.” Her voice was spiking to a high-pitched squeal, and the words were spewing out over the top of each other in a dizzying rush. “I can’t find him anywhere and McLean told us not to leave the house and we’re all trapped inside and what if those hunters killed him? And Mitchell won’t answer the phone or Eric or Luke or any of them. And Erin took Lucy and she didn’t look right and she wouldn’t talk to me and she was all cagey and freaky and not Erin.”