Soul's Mark 02 - Hunted
He kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys onto the small table by the door. He wasn’t sure how much more of this waiting crap he could take or how much longer he would be permitted to hold off the attack. Surely, the others sensed the deaths in his group, and they would probably be here anytime now. And once the elders showed, he would have no hope in hell of getting Megan, or Amelia, for that matter, out alive. Foretelling or not, if the girls wouldn’t join them in this life, they would be executed. They were too dangerous, especially now that they have figured out that the vamps could tap into their magic. Cole shuddered at the thought.
“Cole, is that you?” Stephanie called from the living room. She peeked around the corner. “How’d it go?”
“Fine,” he snapped, annoyed. Without even a sideways glance at her, he went straight for the stairs and bounded up them, taking them two at a time. He knew she would follow, she always did, and he wasn’t surprised that she was right on his heels when he threw open the door to his bedroom.
He tried to ignore her, loosening his tie and tossing his jacket onto the bed. He pretended not to notice when the little mouse of a girl hung his jacket in the closet, but then she stepped over to him and finished removing his tie, and he couldn’t ignore her any longer.
“Where is everyone?” he growled the question at her and instantly regretted it. He knew that she had a crush on him. It wasn’t as if she had ever tried to hide it even when Megan had been around. And she hadn’t done anything but try to help since she was assigned to his team years ago back in the eighth grade.
“Watching the house like you told them to,” Stephanie replied timidly, and she scampered back, dropping her gray eyes to the ground. She started to nervously wind her long mouse-brown hair around her finger.
“Right, good,” Cole said hastily and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. He hated the stiff feel of the suit, constricting and confining, and he was dying to get out of his clothes.
“I’m guessing Megan didn’t willingly follow you?” Stephanie asked, her voice squeaking with nerves, and it made his heart twist. He wasn’t supposed to be the one they feared, and he hated himself for letting Megan get under his skin this much. His Dad had warned him not to get attached. Megan was just a tool. A means to an end. But did he listen? Of course not.
“I gave them two days to come to their senses.” He closed the distance between them, and he reached out to caress her cheek. Stephanie flinched at his touch, and it made him feel sick with disgust. He dropped his hand and sighed. “Megs will call. She always comes back.”
“You still love her, don’t you?” she asked. The heartbreak in her voice was unmistakable, splitting through the air like a warm knife through butter. “That’s why we haven’t killed them yet, isn’t it?”
“I don’t love Megan,” Cole said, turning his back on her and pulled off his shirt.
Stephanie laid a warm and incredibly soft hand on his back, sending a tantalizing shiver over his skin. “Cole, Megs is never going to feel that way about you,” she whispered. “She’s tied to him now.”
“I don’t love her,” he shouted, and then, as if he had no control, as if his body was moving on its own, he grabbed Stephanie, pulled her to him, and pressed his lips to hers.
CHAPTER 25
Time stood still. Mitchell stopped his pacing. Angelle stopped fidgeting. Luke and Lola looked as if they had stopped breathing. Everyone was gawking at Eric, wide-eyed and open jawed. Everyone but Amelia.
Amelia narrowed her eyes. Eric was glaring at her, flashing his fangs in a toothy smile. This version of Eric should have been terrifying, but it wasn’t, and she couldn’t figure out why.
Amelia scrutinized him. Scanning his lax but deadly pose. Taking in his rolling muscles, poised for attack. It wasn’t until she met his eyes that she noticed it. Even with the red tint, there was that familiar glint of mischief hovering around the edges.
He’s setting the stage, Amelia realized with a start, and she almost let a nervous laugh burst out when she clued in. She risked a quick peek over her shoulder at Megan, who gave her a tiny little nod, as she stood up and started towards her.
“You want to just give Megan over to the hunters?” Erin asked incredulously. “That’s your big idea?”
“Yeah,” Eric said. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, and his eyes were slowly changing from slightly tinted to a muddy red. “Megan doesn’t want to be here. She made that pretty clear last night when she was talking in her sleep about that damn hunter, and we all know Millie has been trying to find a reason to leave since she found out what we are.” His lips turned into a terrifying, snarling kind of grin, and he shot a look of pure hatred at Amelia.
Eric pushed himself off the wall and began to stalk towards her. At the same moment, Megan stepped beside Amelia, taking her hand, and instantly, a steamy heat simmered in her belly.
Amelia’s gut twisted, and beads of sweat began to drip down the back of her neck. Maybe she had read the glint wrong. Maybe he was serious. Because the way Eric was staring at her was starting to make her feel as if she was a juicy steak.
Lola tossed her hands up in annoyance and leaped up from the couch. She stepped in between Eric and Amelia as if she was going to keep them from lashing out at each other. “Hold up,” she said, looking at Eric as if he had lost his mind. “Are you suggesting that we give them the girls because they want to leave?”
“Yup,” Eric said, never breaking his burning gaze from Amelia, but thankfully, he stopped moving.
“Mitchell, do something,” Luke said, exasperated. “We don’t have time for this crap.”
Amelia glanced at Mitchell, and the icy look he gave her confirmed everything she needed to know. She sucked a noisy deep breath and said, “Glad you think it’s a good idea, Eric. ‘Cause Meg and I, well, we were planning on going anyways.”
“You want to go?” Angelle asked. She gave her head a shake as if she was sure she hadn’t heard it right, and she was trying to loosen whatever it was that had clogged up her hearing. She looked lost and confused, and she began fidgeting again, crossing her right leg over the left and then uncrossing them, just to do it all over again.
“Want to?” Amelia said, and she fought not to cringe when she heard the tremor in her voice. Megan squeezed a little tighter, and a soft glow began to surround them. Amelia soaked up the energy, cleared her throat, and summoned up her best Fiona impression. “You seriously have to ask that?”
Amelia’s flippant attitude must have been believable, because Angelle blanched and began stuttering, “But…but…you guys…”
“Don’t look so surprised, Angelle. You knew better than anyone else how much I hate it here. How much I hate him.” Amelia narrowed her eyes to little slits and turned up her nose in Mitchell’s direction. “Did you really think I’d just let this chance pass by?”
Amelia held her breath as she waited for a remark, a grunt, a laugh, anything. Except it never came. To her amazement and her distress, Angelle was rendered speechless by her cold and callous words.
“You bitch,” Erin breathed. “You selfish little bitch.”
That hurt and Amelia’s nerve faltered for about half a second until Mitchell spoke up. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said with a freakishly terrifying—but damn was it sexy—grin. He looked over to Eric. “I think we should just get rid of them ourselves. Why let the hunters have all the fun?” He let his fangs slide down lazily as he spoke.
“You’re right,” Eric said. “The blood supply is getting low again, and I figure it’s their fault Mabel’s dead. No point in wasting any easy food.” He locked Megan into his sights and slowly started to stalk towards them.
Amelia didn’t have time to think. Mitchell was moving in on her, and her family looked so stunned and disbelieving that none of them seemed even able to move. She jerked Megan’s hand and started backing away.
When she backed herself into a corner, Mitchell chuckled. “Amelia, I’m
not letting you join them.”
That sound, his deep voice mixed with the smooth chuckle, made her heart jump erratically, and her knees turned into jelly. It called to her, smothered her thoughts with warmth, filled her soul, and in that moment, she hardly noticed his blazing eyes or his razor-sharp teeth. A gentle buzz drifted around her, softly pushing against her limbs, manipulating her body, and as if she had lost all command over her limbs, she released her death grip on Megan’s hand and took a wobbly step towards him.
Someone tugged at her dress. She heard the tear of the fabric, and a frantic scream bounced around her mind begging her to stop, but she couldn’t. The buzzing softened to a sweet musical hum. A tune she had never heard before but yet, it spoke to her, called to her, as if it was a part of her. His song lilted around her, sugary and alluring.
Mitchell smiled and held his hand out to her, and her breath caught in her throat. It was in that moment that Amelia’s brain registered that his eyes were no longer red. They had taken on a milky incandescent hue, and a small voice whispered in her ear, he’s persuading you.
Air hit Amelia’s lungs in gasping and painful breaths. She collapsed to the floor in a heap, and it shuddered underneath her. She scurried back as fast as she could, trying to put distance between them. Megan pulled her up and cut her a frantic look, her brows lifted in confusion and fear, and Amelia could see the violent shiver that prickled over her cousin’s skin as Eric whispered her name.
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Luke boomed. That’s when Amelia noticed that he was gripping onto Mitchell, and Lola had Eric pinned against the wall. “You can’t kill them!”
Mitchell and Eric both chuckled and exchanged a look. “I should have killed her a long time ago. She’s been nothing but trouble,” Mitchell said nonchalantly, as if he was only talking about the weather.
Amelia’s laugh sounded hollow and empty. “You think you can kill me?” She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest. Her mind whirled around in circles trying to understand what Mitchell was doing. She tried to look into his mind, but each time she made it in, he physically pushed her out, using her own magic against her, before she could get much of a glimpse. It was when she searched his eyes that she got a hint of something that she thought she understood.
Suddenly a phrase swarmed with her thoughts, buzzing around like a nest of bees. The words just came to her almost as if they had always been there, buried deep within her brain. Energy licked over her body in tantalizing, luminous bursts. “Meg, it’s time,” she said.
Megan laced her fingers through Amelia’s fingers. A jolt of raw energy rushed up Amelia’s arm and traced over her body. She closed her eyes and expelled any doubt that lingered with a puffed breath. She let the power soar through her veins, and for a moment, she focused on it, letting everything else, the voices of her friends, the pull of the bond, Mitchell’s mouth-watering scent, disappear.
When she found her center, Amelia opened her eyes and locked them on Mitchell. She let the phrase that was at the tip of her tongue fall from her lips, “The mark will vanish, and we will be free.”
For a second, she thought she saw Mitchell smile, and she was sure he winked at her. Megan squeezed her hand, and she repeated the incantation. “The mark will vanish, and we will be free.”
Searing pain rushed over Amelia’s neck as if boiling water had been poured on her. Megan gasped and staggered beside her. Amelia sucked in a breath and continued to chant, fighting against the pain that tried to suck the words from her lips. Megan’s voice shook as she joined in, and together they channeled their magic, sending out blasts of luminescent energy with each word they spoke.
Mitchell and Eric crumbled to the ground, howls of pain ripped from them as they fell. Angelle screamed and Erin gawked, clearly not sure what was happening or what they should do. Luke and Lola frantically tried to help Mitchell stand, but each time they got him up, he threw them off as another blast of magic hit him, sending him back to his knees.
“Amelia, what are you doing to me?” Mitchell hollered, sweat running from his forehead in streams. But she didn’t stop her chanting, until the last of the searing burns from her neck dissipated into a soft tingle.
“You’ll never be able to control us again,” Megan whispered, dropping Amelia’s hand. Her eyes fell from Eric to the ground.
The only sound in the room was Mitchell’s and Eric’s panting as they trembled on the floor, too weak to stand. Amelia took in the looks of hatred and disbelief from her friends, and her heart twisted. She opened her mouth to explain, but before the words could come out, Tyler stepped in front of her. “I hope they torture you and kill you.” His face was closed, and his eyes burned of hatred. “Get out,” he said and pointed to the door.
When she didn’t move and her eyes began to burn, Mitchell screamed, his words hitting her like a physical slap, “Get out!”
CHAPTER 26
Mitchell couldn’t watch as Amelia bolted from the room with Megan in tow. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. If they left, the hunters would leave. He knew he had to do this for his town, his friends, and above all, his family. However, he also knew that if he watched, he wouldn’t be able to stand by and let her leave; because he knew she was the only family that would ever matter to him.
He could hear Amelia’s whispers as the girls raced through the house, and he could practically see Amelia pulling open the closet, stripping off her tattered dress, and pulling on her favorite jeans and hoodie. By the sounds, he knew Megan was stuffing a bag full of supplies, and he nearly went to help them when he heard Amelia say she couldn’t find her phone.
The beep of an incoming text message sounded, and Mitchell could hear Megan whisper to Amelia that the meeting was set. “Mitchell, you can’t let them leave,” Luke said. He stuck out his hand and helped him from the floor.
“Yes, I can,” Mitchell replied, letting Luke pull him up, and then he took a seat on the couch, burying his face in his hands. The squawk of rubber drifted through the house as Amelia and Megan rushed to the kitchen. Keys jingled as she pulled them from the hook. The fridge opened, and then shut. Paper fluttered, and Mitchell was sure he heard the click of a magnet before the door slammed.
A breeze ruffled his hair, and in a flash, he was on his feet and blocking the doorway from the living room. Angelle, Luke, and Lola crashed into his chest. “We will not stop them,” he growled and shoved the three of them back forcefully. Luke tried to push him out of the way, but Mitchell easily grabbed onto his arm, twisting it to a near breaking point. “Don’t push me, Luke. I’m twice your age.”
“You’re going to get us killed,” Lola pleaded as she uselessly tried to pry open Mitchell’s clamped fingers.
“No, he’s not,” Eric said calmly. “He’s saving us.”
The Jeep rumbled to life, and Mitchell clenched his jaw when he heard the gears grind in protest. She should have taken one of the automatics, he thought, annoyed that she wasn’t thinking, and then he quickly shook away the pointless thought, knowing it was a stupid thing to even consider. Did it really matter what car she took as long as she was gone?
“How could you just let her walk out like that?” Angelle asked meekly. “Why didn’t you stop her?” She cowered from his glare and slapped her hand to her mouth.
An overflow of guilt and shame squeezed his heart. He wanted to tell them the truth so badly that it physically hurt. He glanced at Eric and saw the same feelings written all over his face. It was the feeling deep in his bones that spurred him forwards to keep up the charade, and he huffed, dropped Luke’s arm, which was close to black from the force of his grip, and said, “She broke the bond. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Don’t give us that shit,” Lola spat, her tone filled with venom and contempt. “We’ve all been watching you guys practice. We know what you’re capable of doing. Both of you could have stopped them.” She glared so fiercely at Eric that he slid back behind Mitchell.
“B
ack off, Lola,” Mitchell warned, although the command that usually toned his voice was not as strong as he had wanted.
“You deserved it,” Erin said, and if the other looks of hatred that Mitchell had received had upset him, hers devastated him. It was raw and passionate and lethal. “You used your persuasion on her. You were going to kill her. They deserve better than you guys.”
Mitchell swallowed hard, fighting against the ripping feel in his chest that threatened his strength and determination. “Erin,” he started, but she wouldn’t hear it.
Erin’s face screwed up with rage, and she shouted, “I wish you had let me die.” And with a burst of wind, she was gone.
“Mitchell, we need to go after them,” Angelle urged. She grabbed a phone from the coffee table. “I’ll call Joe. He won’t let them leave.”
“Enough!” In a lightning-fast move, he took the phone and threw it. It hit the wall, and then it hit the floor and shattered into hundreds of little pieces. “If you don’t like my decisions, then leave. This is my house, my town. You’ll respect that or you’ll get the hell out!”
Angelle whimpered and skipped back. “But it’s their magic that has kept us safe this far. If they join the hunters, we’re as good as dead.”
Mitchell needed to calm down; he knew it. The burning in the back of his throat wasn’t helping. It only managed to spike his temper up to a blazing fury. He wasn’t sure exactly what Amelia had done, but whatever it was, it had drained him. He bit his tongue, swallowed his anger, and went to the kitchen.
They didn’t say anything when he left, but he heard the soft pat of footsteps behind him. Mitchell went straight for the stainless steel fridge, trying to ignore the pulling at his core and the tingling in his limbs that attempted to convince his brain that he needed to run after Amelia. He grabbed a bag of blood and bit into it, not bothering to warm it up or pour it into a glass.