Amelia couldn’t stand it. “She’s right, guys,” she murmured, kicking her toe at the floor. “I can’t …” she started, and then shook her head, “I won’t use black magic. It’s caused enough problems.” She shot an automatic and completely involuntary look between Josh and Cole.
“I’ll use it,” Josh said bitterly, glaring right back at Amelia. She could see what he was thinking, that he was one of the problems caused by the magic, and she averted her eyes, unable to deny it.
“Stop it!” Megan shrieked. “Stop being so selfish.” She vaulted over to Josh and got right in his face. “You’re a murderer! It’s not just your imaginary relationship at stake here! People are dying.”
“Imaginary,” Josh seethed. In a motion so fast, that none of them saw it coming, he stood up and grabbed Megan by the scuff of the neck, holding her off of the ground like a puppy.
Megan didn’t struggle. Instead she laughed. “Wow, you’re more screwed up than I thought. I call you a murderer and all you hear is imaginary.”
Amelia saw red, blazing, crimson red. “Enough!” she shouted, and with her shout, she unleashed a blast of magic, hitting Josh with such force that he dropped Megan and flew into the air a good five feet before hitting the ground with a thud.
Josh whimpered—literally—and he shrunk, curling himself into a ball. Cole smirked and Sally giggled. But Megan was anything but amused. She stomped up to Amelia, her face red and her fists balled, and she snatched the paper from Amelia’s hand.
To Amelia’s surprise, Cole defused the tension quickly and asked, “So do we need to hold hands or something?” He strolled over to Megan and peeked over her shoulder, his eyes moving along the page as he deciphered Amelia’s hasty scribbles.
Tyler finally managed to get the candles lit, and then he plopped down on Amelia’s bed out of the way. Josh was the last one to join the group, and Amelia wasn’t sure whether to be glad or hurt that he made a point not to squeeze in beside her in the circle. Instead, he slid in between Megan and Cole, and the way he held onto Megan, caressing her hand with his thumb, Amelia swore he was trying to make her jealous. It didn’t work.
As soon as he connected the circle, power surged through them like a circuit. A bright light flourished around them in a ring, and the flames on the candles leapt into the air like torches doused in gas.
Amelia took a deep breath, and from memory she said, “Lost souls hear me.” Her voice was a little shaky, and she swallowed hard, drawing in the steamy power to calm her nerves before continuing. “Find your other half and bind together. Through the mark of the soul, let the vampire find a link to humanity, and let them find love through their mate.”
Amelia had expected to see something. More light, that was for sure, but nothing seemed to change. In the vision, Mother Nature had glowed, her aura brightening with the spell. She remembered the feeling of a new surge of power, something stronger—something stable. She looked around the circle, studying everyone’s faces, hoping to find awe or shock or anything to confirm something was happening or had happened.
When Amelia’s eyes landed on Sally, the psychic asked, “Do you feel anything?”
Amelia shook her head from side to side, and then looked at Megan. “You?”
“No. Try again,” Megan said with determination.
Amelia shut her eyes, focusing on the flow of energy, and when she spoke, her voice did not waver. It was strong, laced with command and authority, and to her ears, it did not sound like her own voice. “Lost souls hear me. Find your other half and bind together. Through the mark of the soul, let the vampire find a link to humanity, and let them find love through their mate.”
A pulse, like a heartbeat, touched her skin, and Amelia’s eyes popped open. The flames from the candles jumped, licking at the ceiling, and then went out with a hiss as if they had been doused in water. A current rushed through Amelia, running from her fingertips, and then it rushed at her, hitting her with a burning shock as if she had touched a live wire. She shrieked, and yanked her hands away, breaking the circle.
The air around them hissed and crackled, becoming as thick as butter, and then with a final deafening crack, the pulsing magic vanished.
“Well, that sucked,” Cole said, massaging the hand that had been attached to Amelia’s as if she had stung him.
“Am I right to assume you do not feel anything different other than a little crispy on the fingers?” Sally asked, and Amelia nodded, annoyed. “What are we missing?” she continued, thoughtfully, releasing her hold on Megan. “You are the Mother’s blood, so theoretically you, actually, you both, can wield her magic.” She bent down, picked up the pack of matches, and began relighting the candles.
“Did anything else stand out in the vision?” Tyler questioned, watching them all with a mix of fear and awe. He shifted awkwardly on the bed, and inched back a bit.
“Only Mitchell,” Amelia said, letting his name float out of her lips with a longing sigh.
“Obviously, she’s not strong enough,” Josh said, his cold eyes avoiding Amelia. “It takes less power to break a spell than it does to cast it. The groundwork was already there, all I had to do was find it. We need to break the original curse.” He let his eyes land on her then and said, “I will not let any more of my people die because of you.” There was something else hidden under his words, something cold and sinister, that reminded Amelia of when he pointed an arrow at her heart, and she was certain there was an underlying threat in his statement.
“Are all you immortals this petty?” Amelia hissed. “You realize that it’s not normal to threaten a person just because that person doesn’t want you, right? Jeez, between your and Mitchell’s mood swings, I’m surprised I’m not dead already. I’m sorry I made you. I’m even sorrier that I let you kiss me. But I can’t change that! And acting like a two year old isn’t going to fix it.” The words just flew out of her, without caution or care, and after they were said, she felt … better—clearer.
If her words had any impact on Josh, Amelia didn’t know. He was a mask of indifference, blank and emotionless.
“Millie, can you show us?” Megan whispered, her eyes filled with grief.
Josh shrugged, as if to say whatever, and he took a seat in one of the chairs. One by one, Sally and Cole did the same, and Megan curled up beside Tyler on the bed, all waiting to watch what had happened all those lifetimes ago. Once they were all seated and ready, Amelia evoked the spell, displaying her past for everyone to see.
Amelia couldn’t say how many times she had played it over and over. She had lost count after the ninth time. They picked it apart, fast-forwarding, rewinding, pausing, watching as the slithering blackness entwined with her aura, and the bright light of Mother Nature washed over her grief stricken features.
After a while, they had ruled out the curse that Amelia had used to condemn the vampires and began focusing solely on Mother Nature. They memorized her hand gestures, watched her aura brighten and dim and then become blinding. As they watched, Amelia found herself wondering who the woman was, but it was impossible to tell. Her aura was brilliant, shooting out like rays from the sun, masking her face and hiding her features.
Amelia was just about to rewind again to the point where Mother Nature appeared, when Cole blurted, “Millie, the light, it’s coming from you and Mitchell, not from her, look.” He jumped up and rushed over to the chalky image that floated in the center of the room and pointed. And right then, in that frame, Amelia couldn’t see the blackness that had surrounded her. Brilliant light was coming from Mitchell and herself, like party streamers, shooting out into the sky and weaving within and around each other.
Amelia backed it up a frame, and her aura was so dark and cloudy that she could barely make out her own face. She began to play it slowly, frame by frame, and a chorus of gasps rang out as they watched the darkness disappear, and then when the spell ended, it draped back over her like a thick blanket.
“Oh my God, she used you guys as an anchor,”
Sally gasped, smacking her hand to her mouth. “Soulmates,” she murmured, and Amelia could almost see the wheels turning and the smoke coming out of her ears as she tried to put it all together, and then her eyes widened, she dropped her hand, and she blurted, “You need your soulmate!”
“Eric,” Megan said with feverish excitement. “We can use Eric and me to anchor the spell.”
CHAPTER 25
“I think I might keep her,” Eric said, as he fiddled with the lock on the cell door. “She’s hot and who knows, a witch could come in handy.”
Eric bent the hairpin that he had managed to snag from Megan’s hair to a ninety-degree angle and jammed it back into the lock. Who would have thought that the lesson on picking locks Mitchell had tried to give him (which he had promptly ignored) would have ever come in handy? At the time, Eric had thought it was a waste. He was a vampire for Pete’s sake. He had super human strength. Never had he imagined that he would need to know how to pick a lock when he could just bend the bars or break the door. What had his father been thinking when he built cells that a vampire could not break out of?
“Hmmm,” Luke mumbled distractedly. He sat in the corner of his cell staring at the ceiling, constantly rubbing at his chin in what Eric thought of as the beard stroking contemplation look, except Luke didn’t have any facial hair. Eric tried to picture Luke with a beard, or even a goatee, and couldn’t. He was too neat and tidy, his hair always kept clipped close and gelled with that walked into the wall front flip, and his clothes were always pressed. Nope, Eric thought, facial hair was out of the question.
“But then again, maybe I’ll just eat her,” he continued. “She was tasty.” He wiggled the pin around in the hole uselessly and scrunched his brow, thinking that x-ray vision would come in handy right now, and for a second he wondered why, out of all the crazy powers they had, x-ray vision wasn’t one of them. If he could see through the lock, maybe he could figure out where to stick the damn pin.
“Shut up, Eric,” Luke snarled. He had been getting testier with every passing second since Megan had shown up to chat last night, and Eric couldn’t help but egg him on. It wasn’t as if he got many chances, being the youngest and all. But with Luke locked up in a separate cell, it was the perfect time, and he couldn’t pass it up.
“What?” he asked, forging innocent stupidity into his voice. “I have to weigh out all the options. She was pretty fun, you know, in bed.” He wiggled his brow suggestively at Luke who, of course, rolled his eyes in response. “But I guess I could always find someone else to help in that department.”
“I’m starving,” Luke snapped. “And I’m sick of this bagged crap.” He kicked at the empty plastic bag at his feet, and his eyes washed red. “I need to get out of here. I need to hunt.”
“Me, too,” Eric agreed. He gave up on the lock and plopped down on the stone bench. “Oh, I’ve got it,” he said with a quick snap of his fingers. “Maybe I should keep her as a toy. I could hunt her, catch her, take a little blood, and then play with her.”
There was something about the idea that made his stomach turn. Eric could remember drinking from her, and he certainly remembered holding her silky, naked body against his own, but it didn’t seem real, more like a dream than anything else. When he thought about her, really thought about her, he could swear his heart began to beat faster. Maybe, that should have bothered him.
It’s her blood.
The idea of blood usually made his heart jump around like a jackhammer. The problem was that he knew it wasn’t the blood that was making him want her. It was something else entirely, and he didn’t understand it. It was her long and flowing red ringlets, and her shimmering emerald eyes. Her voice, soft and sweet. He could remember smiling when she was near, and he knew that at one time he thought he would have done anything to just hear the musical notes of her laugh.
Eric’s throat burned, and his frustration grew. It doesn’t make sense! He wanted to scream it out, but he bit his tongue on the words. Why the hell would he care about something as stupid as the sound of her voice or the way her hair fell over her shoulders in perfect spirals? He focused on the memory, spinning it around in his mind, looking for anything that would make sense, and as he scanned his memory of her, he saw it. It was just a small shimmer of golden light, and when he looked closer, he saw tiny rings, like a chain, protruding from her chest. He followed it, watching it stretch out in his mind’s eye, and when he saw what was on the other end of the chain, his blood boiled.
“That witch!” Eric snarled. “She’s using magic on me! She planted the memories.” That’s why he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had given a crap about her. She was messing with him. Trying to make him look like a fool. Finally! Something is making sense! his brain howled as it pieced together all the memories he had about Megan. And every single one had that chain linking them together.
It’s the chain from the soulmate bond, a small voice, so small that it was like a mouse’s whisper in his head, told him. But he shook it off. The soulmate bond didn’t make sense either. Soulmates were not real, not for vampires. Eric knew damn well that he had lost his soul when he was changed. And no soul meant no soulmate, which, of course, made a bond impossible. His brain tried to reason with him, but he blocked it out. The emptiness he had been feeling was suddenly making sense. It had nothing to do with the witch’s charm; he was hungry, and he was certain if he could just feed, the emptiness would vanish.
“Mitchell’s here,” Luke said. He stood up abruptly and paced the few steps to his cell door.
“Dude,” Eric groaned, annoyed that Luke had interrupted his revelation. “What the hell are you mumbling about?”
“Shhhh,” Luke hissed, holding his index finger to his lips. He tilted his head, slightly to the left, and whispered, “I hear them. He’s here.”
Eric closed his eyes and stretched his hearing. “The sewers?” he asked, as his eyes fluttered open, and he searched the floor, certain he had picked up a sound under his feet. He spotted a drainage grate about ten feet down the dimly lit hallway. It jiggled, lifted, and then scratched along the stone floor as it slid to the side.
CHAPTER 26
Megan squealed, clapping her hands, and began to jump up and down. Her face lit up, and she threw her arms around Amelia’s waist, spinning her in circles.
“Seriously?” Tyler asked, laughing. “All we need is Eric?” He said it mockingly, as if he couldn’t believe that Eric was the answer, but he also looked so … happy. It was as if just knowing that they were close to fixing the bond had lifted years off of his face, and it made Amelia feel all kinds of guilty and a little sick that she hadn’t figured it out days ago.
Megan gave him a playful smack, snagged Amelia’s hand, and began dragging her from the room at a flat out run. As she passed Josh, Amelia noticed the firm grip Cole had on his shoulder, and she felt his glare burning a line up and down her back. But she didn’t care. All she cared about in that moment was how close she was to getting Mitchell back. She could figure out the Josh problem later.
Amelia and Megan bounded down the hallway, with the others right on their heels. As they veered left into the foyer, Sally said, “Souls never stray far from a body that is at unrest,” through wheezing breaths as she struggled to keep up. “Mitchell’s soul must have been hovering nearby, and Mother Nature used it.” There was a magical fairy-tale tone to her voice, as if she was in awe and inspired by the spell, and honestly, so was Amelia. The idea gave her hope, like a sunburst within her chest. Bright and deliriously warm hope. “She must have pulled upon your souls to create the bond, using your already established connection as soulmates.”
“But he’s not dead now,” Josh said, easily keeping pace with the witches. His voice was lifeless and callous; his face, closed and blank, and it sent a bunch of small shivers through Amelia. Something had shifted in him, something cold and unnerving, and Amelia was pretty sure it was her fault. Had she been too harsh? At the time, she hadn’t really thought so.
He had needed to know that it was all a mistake and he needed to focus on what was important, not obsess about something that was never going to happen. Everything she had said to him was true. She should never have created them, never kissed him, never led him to believe that there could possibly be a chance between them. But now, she was kind of wishing she had bitten her tongue, at least until she had gotten Mitchell back. Does that make me a tease? she wondered. Probably. Did she care? Not really. Would she later? Definitely.
“Theoretically, he is dead and tormented,” Sally said through huffs and puffs. “His soul will hover.”
They veered left, and as they passed the kitchen, Amelia silently cursed the house for being so big. She pushed a bit harder, the burn in her muscles soothing her jumping nerves. This has to work. This has to work. This has to work, she told herself over and over, as she ran.
A ticking sound somewhere in between a grandfather clock and the ting of water on a tin roof caught Amelia’s attention. It was loud and quiet all at once, as if the sound was an echo, bouncing back and forth. “What is that?” Amelia asked, stopping dead, and then turning in circles, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. That’s when she noticed how quiet the house was. There was no chatter, no scuffling footsteps. Nothing, except the ticking.
“I don’t hear …” Megan started, but stopped as a ringing metallic thud sounded and then another and another and another.
Amelia’s heart jumped to her throat. What now? she wanted to scream. She started forwards again, and as she moved, a feeling of wrongness washed over her. It was hot and cold and spine tingling and just plain wrong. She strained her ears and glanced up at the ceiling. Even with thirty hunters missing—that’s what her brain wanted to believe, they were just missing—there were still twenty-nine roaming the house, and the humans upstairs, even charmed, had still giggled and chatted. Amelia cut left into the hallway that led to the dungeon, and her eyes fell on Officer McLean resting against the iron door.