Suddenly a shower of hissing lights, white and gold and blue, rained down over her, and Amelia felt her own magic surge in response to the pulsing power. A figure materialized in between Josh and Mitchell. “Amelia, you really need to learn some control over these two,” a familiar voice lilted.
Amelia blinked, and in that second, the figure gained substance. “Mom?” Amelia gasped, gawking at the woman that was now pinching the ears of both Josh and Mitchell. She blinked and then everything went dark, and she hit the ground.
As soon as Amelia’s head hit the ground, air hit her throat and burned all the way to her lungs. She struggled to her feet, gasping and coughing and gripping onto the wall to push herself up. She blinked furiously, trying to clear the speckles of grays and reds and greens that were distorting her vision, and looked around; the hunters had retreated, and were now pressed against a wall with Cole in front of them. Angelle and Lola were slowly rising, their eyes wide and jaws dropped. Some of the vampires were sliding across the floor towards the hunters, and some were sitting still—motionless and stunned. Everyone was gaping, and the silence was piercing. She couldn’t even hear the intake of a single breath in the crowded hallway.
Amelia’s hands trembled, and sweat beaded up on her upper lip as she followed their gaze, and when her eyes found what she was searching for, a dizzy rush came over her hard and fast, and she stumbled back against the wall.
“Mom?” Her voice was strained, and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then opened them again.
Her mom stood there with a sweet half smile curling her lips. Her cheeks were blushed with a soft rose, and a halo of white light surrounded her, pulsing like a heartbeat. But even with the magical glow, she looked so real. So solid. On her right, she had Mitchell, and on her left, Josh, and the way she was holding onto them by the ears was as if they were two rotten children that she had just caught stealing cookies from the jar.
“Yes, sweetie,” she lilted. “Now if you wouldn’t mind coming over here so we can fix this mess.” She gave a slight tug on Mitchell and Josh’s ears as if to make it clear they were the mess, and they both let out little girl yelps from the pressure.
Amelia backed up, pressing herself firmly against the wall. “But … but …” She squeezed her eyes shut again and then blinked them open. She’s not real. She’s gone. She’s not real, she told herself, but her eyes … Her eyes saw something entirely different. “How?”
“Amelia,” she said with a tone only a mother could use. It was soft and commanding, the kind of tone that made you want to run for hugs and kisses but also made you want to bolt because you knew you were in trouble.
Amelia couldn’t move. She studied her mother, taking in her loving blue-gray eyes and chocolaty brown hair, curling around her shoulders. She looked so tiny and frail standing in between Mitchell and Josh, both of them towering a good foot over her. But she also emitted an air of power and authority, something that Amelia had never seen in her mother. She wore a sunshine yellow summer dress with dainty little flip-flop heels. Her whole ensemble was sweet, demure even, but yet, she commanded the attention of everyone, just by standing in the room. Just moments ago, everyone had been trying to kill each other, but now, with her there, no one moved.
Amelia blinked again, and Mitchell’s eyes caught hers, and the way he was looking at her, as if he could see right into her soul, took her breath away. It was so full of…everything. Pain, loss, hope, frustration, confusion, fear; it was perfect and devastating all at once.
“Amelia, take his hand,” her mother commanded, but when Amelia didn’t move, she began pulling Mitchell and Josh across the narrow space by their ears.
Josh struggled, snapping out of his stupor with a winded breath. He grunted and shouted a bunch of nasty things, but her mother didn’t let go. She gave him a terrifying look that made Amelia quiver, but he still fought, pulling at her hand, and trying to get out of her hold. Her mother sighed, a deep airy sound, and a brilliant blue light washed over Josh and he just … stopped. He stopped moving. He stopped grunting and fighting, and for a moment, Amelia thought he even stopped breathing. Mrs. Caldwell gave his ear a little tug, and she kept gliding towards Amelia, and he followed easily.
When her mother stopped just inches from her, Amelia reached out with her index finger and poked her in the shoulder. “Holy crap,” she breathed, when she felt the flesh beneath her finger. It’s a dream, the idea popped into her head, and suddenly she was certain that she was still passed out. Without thinking, Amelia pinched herself hard. It hurt—really hurt, and she yelped.
Mrs. Caldwell laughed, a bird-like sound, high pitched and musical, as Amelia rubbed at her tender arm. “Honey, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me since I died.”
“I was dead the last time, too,” Amelia whispered, and then she threw her arms around her mother’s neck, and squealed, hugging her closely.
Mrs. Caldwell kissed her cheek, and her lips were warm, gentle, and so real that it made Amelia’s heart soar. “Take Mitchell’s hand,” she encouraged, her warm breath puffed against Amelia’s cheek as she spoke. “It’s time to end this.”
Amelia let her arms fall, and when she looked up, she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Both Mitchell and Josh wore identical expressions that were a cross between guilty schoolboy and fury induced madness, and it was definitely the oddest combination Amelia had ever seen. Their ears were red as beets where her mother pinched, and they were both cocked, leaning into her as if they were attempting to relieve some of the pain, which Amelia was certain had to be radiating in their ears.
The giggles died quickly when Amelia let her hand slide down Mitchell’s arm. As she entwined her fingers with his, pinpricks of red colored the center of his baby-blue eyes.
“Behave,” Mrs. Caldwell lilted, letting go of Mitchell’s ear. She leaned into Mitchell, whispering softly in his ear. He took a deep intake of breath and relaxed instantly. She turned her serene smile on Josh, and murmured, “You will not move.” He nodded blankly, and then she let him go as well. Then she wrapped both of her hands around Amelia and Mitchell’s clasped ones, and the soft glow that surrounded her intensified, blinding and shimmering.
Power. Steaming, luminescent power flowed through Amelia’s veins, filling her with a building, delirious heat. It started at her toes, climbing through her body, warming her bones and muscles. Mitchell squeezed her hand, and Amelia was pretty sure he whimpered softly as a moan escaped her lips. A chorus of gasps rang, like wind chimes on a gusty day, one after another, and scuffling sounds of shoes against the hardwood floor echoed in her ears.
“Are you ready?” Mrs. Caldwell asked.
Amelia locked eyes with Mitchell, and in the moment, all the memories they had shared flitted through her mind. Her first dream. How he comforted her the night her parents had died. The first time she physically met him. How he looked like an angel, his aura shining brightly. The first time they kissed. The skin-tingling passion. His mindboggling jealousy and his sweet and encouraging guidance. She wanted it all back. Everything. The good and the bad. She wanted him. Forever. She felt the smile twitch at her lips, and in unison, they breathlessly said, “Yes.”
The air swirled around them, and the fresh scent of just washed laundry filled Amelia’s lungs. “Lost souls hear me,” Mrs. Caldwell cooed, as if she was coaxing a frightened animal out of hiding. “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.”
Power crackled in the air like lightning, and delicate, wispy beams of whites and golds shot from every inch of Amelia’s skin. She gasped. The beams hit Mitchell, and a golden chain began to piece together from his chest, stretching towards her. His thoughts hit her in an incredible mess of confusion, and her skin tingled and heated where he touched.
The zapping crackle of energy increased, and Amelia felt as if she was floating
. She was weightless, swimming in a sea of emotion. Love, blissful and complete, brushed around her like hundreds of soft feathers. It was perfect, radiant, and absolutely awe-inspiring. Oh God, I love you, Amelia, Mitchell’s voice—velvety and warm—filled her mind, and her heart flip flopped in her chest like a fish caught on land.
And then someone screamed.
“No!” Mitchell yelled. His face crumpled, broken and twisted.
An explosion resonated, ringing in Amelia’s ears, and then something pinched at her skin. It started soft, annoying, and then the pinching sensation increased to ripping and tearing, and she couldn’t breathe.
Amelia glanced down. A circle of deep red was growing, seeping into her shirt. Mitchell cupped her face, lifting her head back up. His eyes were frantic, and he was speaking, but Amelia couldn’t understand what he was saying. Thoughts. His thoughts she realized were exploding within her brain, and it was loud. So loud. And then … there was nothing.
Amelia picked a daisy and brought it to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent. She plucked the petals lazily, as she basked in the warm sunshine. Sally Crystal sat beside her, running her fingers along all the wild flowers.
The meadow was breathtaking, filled with yellows and purples, and the spring air was sweet and fresh, like tea and honey. The sun beat down, glittering off the dew dampened flowers, making them sparkle and shimmer as if they were encrusted with precious stones.
“When the dust settles with the rising sun, you will need to choose a path,” Sally murmured. “Your past holds the answers. But you must break a branch and set one of them free.” She fixed an unseeing stare on Amelia, and her voice held a frothy and far away tone. “When this is over, Mitchell will hunt Josh, and Josh will hunt Mitchell if you do not break the branch and let one of them go.”
Sally rose, rolling up to her feet in jerky motions as if someone was forcing her limbs to move. She looked down at Amelia with an odd grin, and whispered, “Break a branch.” And then with the same jerky, forced movements, she turned and walked away as she chanted, “Break a branch. Break a branch. Break a branch. Break a branch.”
“How?” Amelia screamed, jumping up. “Tell me how!”
And then suddenly, she was gone, and Amelia was alone.
****
“Mitchell,” Amelia breathed, blinking herself awake. She tried to sit up, and a sharp pain in her side ceased her breath. She clenched at it, her hand feeling gauze and padding. She tried to sit up again, but only managed to prop herself up with her elbows.
“Stay still, kiddo,” Luke said, his voice booming and firm. He put a soft hand on her shoulder, nudging her back down onto the bed. “You were shot. You need to rest.”
Shot! Amelia looked down, examining the blood stained padding that was affixed to her side. Shot? How? Who? She looked up through narrowed eyes, meeting Luke’s concerned ones, and she was about to blurt out a slew of questions when she noticed the sun just starting to peek over the tree line through the window. Sally’s words bombarded her brain, When the dust settles with the rising sun, you will need to choose a path.
“Where is he?” Her stomach twisted in knots as she frantically searched around the room for him. She could feel him. The pull of the bond and the soft hum of his scattered thoughts made her skin tingle. It took her a second to realize she was in Luke’s room instead of her own, and she was about to ask why, but then her eyes found Lola. She hovered nearby, fiddling with the cushions on the bed and, Amelia thought, Lola was trying hard, too hard, not to look at her. Her skin was paler than normal, more gray, and less porcelain.
“He’s with Mother Nature,” Luke said tightly, as he continued to rub her arm gently.
“Mother Nature?” Amelia heard the high-pitched spike in her voice as her panic gripped at her throat.
Luke sighed. “Yes, kiddo, your mother is Mother Nature.”
CHAPTER 29
“I can’t,” Mitchell said again, emerging from the closet with another armload of clothes. He dropped them on the bed and began shoving them in a suitcase. He couldn’t see her, not like this. Since Amelia had arrived, she had been subjected to death, and he was not going to keep putting her through it. If leaving would keep her safe, then he’d do it.
The last twelve hours had been a blur. He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around why McLean would shoot Amelia. Not that he’d ever know the truth. As soon as McLean had shot her, Luke had taken him down.
Mrs. Caldwell had lifted all the spells that surrounded the houses and town with a flick of a finger when Amelia began to fall. Mitchell figured that was a good thing, because he hadn’t stopped to think before he had scooped her up into his arms and raced from the house with her limp body.
In the hospital, Mitchell had sat with her as the doctors patched her up. The bullet had passed through the fleshy area on her right side. The doctor had said that she was lucky that he had been standing in front of her, blocking most of her body and stopping the shooter from gaining a good aim. But all Mitchell heard was, it’s your fault she was a target.
Once Amelia was stable, Mitchell had brought her home, against his better judgment. It had been Mrs. Caldwell’s forceful encouragement that made him take her from the hospital, and it had also been her that had placed Amelia under Luke’s care, claiming that they had some things to discuss.
By the time they had gotten back, Angelle had gotten rid of all the humans that had been dozing in the media room. With the help of a little persuasion, she had handed them all checks and thanked them for putting on a wonderful fair, and they had left. Unfortunately, the hunters hadn’t been that easy to get rid of. They were still milling about the house, on edge, and waiting for Amelia to wake up.
“Yes, you can,” Mrs. Caldwell, or Mother Nature, said. That was another thing that Mitchell just couldn’t wrap his head around. Mother Nature—the first witch—was Amelia’s actual mother. She was air and water and fire and earth all mixed together. She was the creator and the destructor, and Amelia, his sweet, innocent Amelia, was her child.
“No, I can’t,” he said with more determination than he felt, as he continued to shove things in his suitcase. “Look at what her life has become. How many more times will she almost die?” Biting tears flooded his eyes, and he scrubbed at them. “I can’t do this to her anymore.”
Mrs. Caldwell climbed the steps on the landing and perched on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs at the knees. She had Amelia’s smile, Mitchell noticed. The soft upwards curve that was always a bit higher on the right than the left. “There’s another option,” she said.
“There’s no other option. She’d be better off without me.” Saying it out loud twisted at his heart, and the emptiness grew within him. But he knew it was true.
Creases littered her face as she frowned. “Do you really think that’s what she wants?”
Probably not. That’s what he wanted to say. He huffed, biting back the truth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m no good for her.” He hated to think it, but maybe Josh was better for her—safer.
“Mitchell, you are just as stubborn as she is.” She laughed, a soft musical sound. “Don’t you see? You are the reason this started. You are what she has been missing. You are what she needs.”
“Not like this.” He let his fangs slide down, and his eyes flared red to emphasis his point. “I won’t hurt her anymore. I don’t deserve her.” He turned abruptly, and padded back to the closet looking for the other suitcase.
“You don’t have to stay like this,” she lilted when he emerged, and set the bag on the bed.
“What?” he snapped, annoyed that the woman wouldn’t leave it alone, and he fixed the coldest glare he could muster up on her. Couldn’t she see how hard this was? Didn’t she know how much he wanted to stay? He was leaving for Amelia. Not for himself, but for her. She deserved better than this, better than he did.
There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and she placed a hand on his forearm, not at all scared of the flecks of c
rimson that he was certain were in his eyes. “Mitchell, I’m the first witch.”
He dropped down on the bed, sitting on the edge beside her, and he was sure all the hope that was igniting inside him was clear on his face. He tried to douse it, but it burst inside him, and steamy warmth leaped through his body. “What are you saying?”
She smiled a little. “I can make you human.”
“What?” He shook his head and picked at his ears, certain he didn’t hear her right.
She laughed. “I can make you human again, if that’s what you want.”
“Yes!” he said without thought. “Yes, do it.”
She laughed again, and her smile grew. “Don’t you want to think about it? You’ll be giving up this life and …”
“There’s nothing to think about,” he said, cutting her off. All the possibilities flooded his mind. They could have children, grow old together. They could have a life. A real life. Together. And he knew that he would give up anything and everything he had, for another chance to be with her.
CHAPTER 30
Amelia thought her head was going to explode. So many things were trying to click into place all at once. The familiar voice. The memory of her past. The magic. The threat to strip her magic. She had known it all along and yet, she hadn’t. My mother is Mother Nature. And she was with Mitchell now. Right now. Downstairs. In her house. It was just too much. It should have been comforting to know her mother was here and not dead, but it wasn’t. It made Amelia’s hands sweat and her legs shake.
Break a branch, the words clouded Amelia’s brain. Taunting her. Dangling in front of her just out of reach. It hit her then, and swift clarity washed away her clattered thoughts. She sat up, and the pain in her side stole her breath, but she didn’t let it stop her as she franticly ripped at the blankets, trying to get out of bed. “Where’s Josh?” she shrieked.
“He’s downstairs with the rest of the hunters,” Lola said. She rushed around the bed and began untangling the blankets that were wrapped tightly around Amelia’s legs. “Millie, you can’t go down there. Lay back down.”