Amelia,
You need to leave this town. Run away and never look back. I have tasted your blood, and I fear the next time we meet, you will not survive it. I know you are probably wondering why I care, but that is a question I cannot answer. All I know is I am drawn to you and that you must fear me.
I will give you a head start, but remember, I am a predator. I will track you and find you. So I beg you, never stop running.
Mitchell Lang
Amelia gasped and read it again. She looked up at Josh, hardly seeing him, and asked, “Where did you get this?”
Josh didn’t answer. Instead, he backed up, moving away from the people who were gathering around them, and Amelia followed, pacing after him. Heat built and flooded her cheeks, and she balled her fists. He went straight for the study, and ushered everyone in.
“He found it on your Jeep,” Tyler said, strolling over to the desk chair and sitting down. He leaned back, propping his feet on the desk and putting his hands behind his head.
“What is it?” Megan asked, once the door was shut and they were out of earshot from all the curious people that had been watching. When Amelia didn’t answer, she pried the page out of her hands and started to read it. When she was finished, she folded it up and said, “We need to help him,” with a matter-of-fact tone.
“No we don’t,” Josh replied, his eyes fogging with an eerie florescent haze.
“They aren’t going to stop, Josh! He can’t stop. I have to help him!” Amelia’s voice was rising, tinting with panic, and emotions swirled through her like a tornado touching down and slashing through her chest. Even without a soul, Mitchell was still trying to help her—protect her.
“You mean kill him,” Josh growled, and then he drew his lips into a thin white line as his jaw twitched.
“No, she means help him.” Tyler noticed Amelia rock on her feet, and he jumped up and rushed to her, putting an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her tightly.
In a motion so quick that Amelia’s eyes couldn’t follow it, Josh grabbed Tyler’s arm, twisted it off of her, and shoved him against the wall, all the while keeping Tyler’s arm pulled tight against his back. “He’s telling you to run away, Amelia, not chase him,” Josh growled. The jealously she saw on his face was seriously creepy, verging on psycho-stalker creepy.
Amelia didn’t have time to react before Tyler hissed, “Dude, she’s not into you.” He spun away from the pressure, pulled his arm free, and then kicked out, knocking Josh back a step. “Accept it. Deal with it. Get over it.”
“Tyler,” Amelia started, but Josh cut her off as if she wasn’t even there.
“The kiss the other night said different.”
“You kissed him?” Megan asked, looking at Amelia as if she was a stranger, and Amelia dropped her head, not able to look at the betrayal that shone in Megan’s eyes.
Tyler shrugged. “She may think about it, might even consider it, but you’re not him, man. You’ll never fill that spot, and even if she tries you out, she’ll get sick of you.”
“She made me for her,” Josh countered, taking a poke at Tyler’s chest.
“Maybe, but even then, she was thinking about him.” Josh’s face fell and his jaw dropped as if he had never really thought about it that way before, but then again, why would he? Tyler closed the short distance to Amelia and wrapped her in a fast hug. “I know you can fix this.”
When Tyler let her go, the tears welled up in Amelia’s eyes. “I will,” she said, and then before the tears could fall, she scurried from the room.
CHAPTER 21
Finding McLean didn’t take long. He had to be the most predictable person Mitchell knew. He’s angry, he goes to the station. Happy, he’s at home. Freaked out, he goes to his sister’s house.
Jillian McLean lived at the hub of Willowberg in an apartment above a twenty-four hour convenience store, and Mitchell wasn’t surprised to find the police cruiser parked in front of the store. As he approached, Mitchell picked up the panicked notes in McLean’s voice, and he chuckled. Predictable. Just like Amelia.
Mitchell had rather hoped that he had been wrong about Amelia. But, of course, he wasn’t. Before looking for McLean, he had passed by his house. He tried to tell himself that he had gone strictly to make sure he knew where the enemy was, but that wasn’t entirely true.
Just as he had predicted, Amelia had gone back to the house. Mitchell had been a bit surprised that he had been able to get so close, but he figured they probably were still working on securing the block.
He knew he should have been excited that the hunters were all together. It would make it easier when he was ready to attack. Except, he wasn’t, and that’s when it really hit him; part of him had wanted Amelia to take them and run. And with that realization, before he could even think about what he was doing, he climbed into her Jeep, dug around in the glove box, and found some paper and a pen and wrote her a note. He stuck it to the windshield, not wanting to get too close to the house, and then he fled before anyone could see him.
As he stood outside of the store, he pushed Amelia from his mind. All he could do now was hope that she would find his note and run. If not, he would have to figure out what to do about her later.
Mitchell went around back, and easily snapped the feeble deadbolt that held the door to the stairs closed, and he started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the top, he threw open the apartment door. A strong scent of bleach washed out, which seemed out of place, as he surveyed the grungy looking apartment. The linoleum tiles were cracking and peeling, and the walls needed a fresh coat of paint.
McLean jumped and spun around, and when his eyes fell on Mitchell, he gasped. His heart raced; Mitchell could hear the thumping and pounding within his chest, and McLean reached for Jillian, pulling her behind him.
Mitchell leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “A little birdie told me that you’ve been working with the hunters,” he said.
“You can’t come in here,” McLean said. His eyes darted to the side, and Mitchell followed them, spotting his gun lying carelessly on the kitchen counter.
The motion stumped Mitchell for a moment. McLean knew bullets were useless against him, unless … Mitchell smirked, putting it together. The Hunters. “And why’s that?” he asked, keeping his tone even and clueless.
“Because … you … you aren’t invited,” McLean stuttered, and backed up a few steps, pushing his sister along with him.
Mitchell laughed. He couldn’t help it. Humans, he thought. They believe the stupidest things, anything to help them sleep at night, he guessed. “You’ve been watching too many movies, McLean.” He pushed off of the doorframe and strolled in, picking up the gun before taking a seat on a dingy looking leather loveseat.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jillian said with a huff, pushing at her brother. “It’s just Mitchell.”
“Jill,” he hissed, cutting her a clear warning look. He pushed her back behind him, and when he looked back at Mitchell, he visibly shuddered.
“You know, I might have overlooked this little show of rebellion if it was only against me. But my pet,” Mitchell shook his head and made a tsk sound, “now that’s an entirely different game.”
“Mitch,” Jillian chirped, poking her head out from behind her brother’s back. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“You have too much faith in your brother,” Mitchell said. “Didn’t he tell you, that he’s the reason for Mabel’s death? What makes you think he wouldn’t hurt Amelia?” Mitchell wasn’t entirely sure if McLean had had anything to do with Mabel’s death. No one had actually told him, but the theory made sense. McLean was working with the hunters; Mabel had known the killer, or at least one of them. Logically, McLean fitted into the puzzle nicely, and his stuttered response confirmed it.
“I … I … I …” McLean started, and shot Jillian a quick sideways glance.
“He didn’t actually kill her,” Mitchell continued lazily. ?
??But he did lead the hunters right to her, and he was there when she died.” He stretched his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.
“I didn’t know!” McLean cried. “They were only supposed to talk to her.”
“Wait a minute,” Jillian said. She stepped out from behind McLean, and for a split second, she looked fragile, lost, and shocked. It didn’t last. She flushed and yelled, “You knew? You were there?”
“He was,” Mitchell confirmed with a nod, sensing McLean’s quickened heart and noticing the beads of sweat forming on his upper lip.
“Why are you here?” McLean whispered, the question catching in his throat.
“Come on, McLean, you know why I’m here,” Mitchell said, rolling his eyes. “You lost your pet status when you went against me.”
“Pet status?” He looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes flashed with understanding. His eyes darted to the door and then back to Mitchell, as if he was trying to calculate the chances of him making it out. Mitchell guessed that he figured he could make it, because he started to run. But then, his foot caught on the edge of the rug, and he went down, smacking his head against the coffee table as he went.
Mitchell sighed, disappointed. He had kind of been hoping for a bit of a chase, but looking at McLean’s limp body, it clearly wasn’t going to happen. He pushed up from the loveseat and walked the few steps to McLean.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Jillian said, but her tone sounded like she was saying the words out of duty, and the way she was looking at her brother, with hatred and disgust, Mitchell was pretty sure that right now she didn’t really care what happened to him, although she probably would later. She reached out, placing a hand on Mitchell’s forearm. He dropped his gaze to her hand, and when he looked back up, she shuddered away.
“Don’t make me rethink your pet status, Jillian,” he warned, as he gave her a hard look, and she cringed back another step. He bent down, grabbed McLean, and tossed him over his shoulder.
“Are you going to kill him?” she asked. Her voice quivered, and her fear rushed from her skin in tantalizing waves.
“Not yet,” Mitchell replied, and without a backwards glance, he walked out the door.
CHAPTER 22
Sitting amongst the cushions on her bed in a lotus pose, Amelia peered out the window. Darkness was falling quickly and with it, a darkness that this town had long ago forgotten. She could feel it, seeping into her bones, pulling at her core. Vampires killing humans. It had happened before, but not like this. They were quiet about it—careful. But Amelia couldn’t deny what she had seen. The way Erin had openly approached her victims, as if it was okay, normal even. And if Erin was doing it, then what would the rest of them be doing? It was a question that had been playing on Amelia’s mind since last night, and it was one that she really, really, didn’t want the answer to.
Amelia attempted to find a centered and serene state of mind. Turns out, it was a task that was easier said than done. First off, there was just too much noise. Even with the door shut and her music blaring, she could still hear muffled conversations throughout the house. Second, she had never really been a centered, peaceful type of person. And last, she didn’t have the faintest idea as to what she was actually doing.
Well, okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely right. She knew what she wanted to do—contact her mother and figure out what she was supposed to do—but actually doing it…that’s where the big black hole in her brain resided, and it was growing with every passing second. And her increasing, mind-numbing exhaustion and rumbling stomach were certainly not helping.
Josh had stayed clear of her since she had read the note. Not that she minded; she was glad to get rid of his pesky shadow looming over her all the time. The only thing he had managed to do since breaking the bond was add more doubts to her mind. Part of her wanted to send him and the hunters away, but another part was terrified of what they might do if she did. She didn’t know if she should try to fix the bond, or try to give the vampires their souls back, or maybe try and do both. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help but consider this as a way out. Except, even with all her complaints, she wasn’t sure if she wanted a way out. She tried to imagine a life without Mitchell, and she just couldn’t. And each time she tried, a consuming feeling of wrongness settled into her belly.
Amelia wiggled around on her bed, trying to get comfortable. She glanced at the clock again, 7:56, and she sighed. She had been sitting there for just over two hours and still hadn’t made an ounce of progress. Wasn’t lotus supposed to be relaxing? Clearly not, because her legs were tingling and starting to fall asleep.
There was a soft tap at the door before it slid open, and Megan popped her head into the room. For a second, Amelia was overwhelmingly glad for the disruption, at least she was until the rest of Megan came through the door, and then Amelia’s stomach dropped. Megan looked tired, really tired, and her skin had taken on a grayish tone. She had changed, Amelia noticed, and right now, she looked like she was being swallowed up by one of Eric’s gray tracksuits. The hoodie was long enough to be a dress, falling below her knees, and she had the baggy pants rolled up to the ankles so she wouldn’t trip. Megan hugged her arms around her stomach, pulling the fabric closer to her skin, and she tucked in her chin, burying her nose in the neck of the sweater.
Tyler snuck in behind her, shutting the door tightly, and then padded over to Amelia and plopped down on the bed. He laid back, draping his arm over his eyes, and then let out a long, gusty sigh.
“What do you want us to do?” Megan asked, her voice muffled in the folds of material. She walked over to one of the big marshmallowy leather chairs and collapsed in it, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Amelia glanced out the window, trying to come up with something that was remotely productive. The inky sky was clear, dotted with sparkling stars.
You want to talk about the fair? About Mitchell? The note? Megan asked, after a moment’s silence. The sudden intrusion in her brain made her jump. Tyler groaned, and then rolled over, snoring softly.
Amelia sighed, untangled her legs, and eased herself off the bed, trying not to wake him. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, switching to spoken words, wanting to say it out loud, as if hearing it with her own ears would ease the doubts that had been sprouting up like wild flowers. She made her way over to Megan, curling up across from her in the chair.
“Millie, he let you go,” Megan whispered, as if she wasn’t entirely sure that it was the truth.
Amelia didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Yes, Mitchell had let her go, but why? Why did he tell her to run? She wanted to think it was because a small part of him still cared, but the bigger part of her thought he wanted to hunt her, and she had made it too easy for him.
“He also bit me.” The bitterness Amelia caught in her voice sent shivers over her skin and made the hair on her arms stand up with goose bumps.
“But he stopped?” Megan said, as if it was a question, and Amelia figured it probably was, but she couldn’t say for sure if Mitchell had in fact stopped, or if she had stopped him. She knew she had thought about using magic, but if she had actually used it, she didn’t know.
When Amelia didn’t answer, Megan went on and said, “I don’t blame you for kissing Josh.” She locked sad and tired eyes with Amelia. “I went down to see Eric after you fed him.” The shame was audible in her timbre, but it was unnecessary. Megan was playing it safe, making sure there was less temptation for both of them, and honestly, Amelia wished she had her strength. She had caved to Mitchell the moment she laid eyes on him. “He remembers the bond, you know. He remembers what it’s supposed to feel like.”
“Megan, you need to stay away from him. He’s messing with your head.” She tried to sound like she knew what she was talking about, but all her words did was add more doubt in both of their minds.
“I don’t think he is, Millie,” she said, befuddled, and she paused for t
hought. “It’s not like breaking the bond wiped out their memories of us. It’s as if it just flipped a switch to their emotions, as if they were turned off. But he remembers. And he’s confused. He doesn’t understand why he would have ever cared about me. It’s like he can’t understand what that feeling means.”
Amelia wanted to tell her about the confusion she had seen in Mitchell’s eyes and about what Luke had said. She wanted to agree. She desperately wanted to believe it all, but she couldn’t form the words. She didn’t want to raise their hopes, because the reality was, even though they were confused now, it may not last. She knew better than anyone did that when something doesn’t make sense for long enough, people tend to push it aside, forget about it, or begin to hate that very same thing that they had been trying to find an answer for.
It was Megan’s deep, wispy breathing that pulled Amelia away from her thoughts. She sighed and then got up, snagged a throw off of her bed and draped it over Megan, before climbing back on her bed, careful not to wake Tyler who was sound asleep on her bed, and twisted her legs back into lotus.
That night, Amelia dreamed.
The air was silky and fresh and warm. A soft spring breeze brushed through her hair, fanning out her curls like coiled streamers. Amelia looked out over a meadow of lush green grass and glowing daisies. Waiting. Waiting for what, she didn’t know. But she knew she was waiting. Expectantly. Longingly. Her heart throbbed and her skin tingled as she scanned the golden soaked horizon.
In the distance, a figure stepped out from the trees. Amelia raised her hand, shielding her eyes from the winking sun, and her heart took off like a bird startled from its nest. The figure waved an excited, big wave and began to run to her, bounding through the field of flowers.