She let him scoop her into his arms, as he swung the door to their bedroom shut, and she rested her head against his chest. “I’m not worried about her, Luke. I’m scared for Mitch. What if she hurts him?”

  Luke carried her over to the cushioned window seat and sat down. He adjusted his hold on her, pulling her between his outstretched legs, and she leaned into him, relaxing her back against his chest.

  “He’d deserve it after all the pain he caused her,” Luke said with a chuckle. It sounded cruel, but Lola knew it wasn’t meant to be. That was one of the things she’d always loved about Luke. He wasn’t a mean person. Never had been. “But she won’t.” He caressed her hair, and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek before he said, “Honey, you have to let her make mistakes. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen. You can’t protect them from each other forever.”

  Lola snuggled deeper into his arms, and gazed blankly out the window. She knew that Mitchell and Amelia would take the bond back at some point; she had just hoped it wouldn’t happen until Mitchell was well enough to become a vampire again. That was it. She had only wanted to prolong the inevitable until they were both equals, and Amelia couldn’t accidentally inflect the pain that could come with the bond. Lola knew Amelia would never forgive herself for that. If nothing else, Amelia had a kind and extremely fragile heart, and hurting Mitchell would throw her over the already slippery edge.

  “Mitchell can handle it,” Luke said, plucking the thoughts out of her mind. “This is not a decision you can make for them, Lola. She needs him.”

  “I think he’s dying,” she whispered. “He can’t die, Luke.” Because I can’t live without him. She sent the last thought silently, unable to voice it out loud. In their long time together, Mitchell had been a father, a brother, a friend. He’d been her rock, her teacher, and at times, he was even her tormentor. He’d filled every role that was needed at any given point in her life when Luke couldn’t. Yes, he could be a jackass, and headstrong, but he could also be kind, and giving. Aside from Luke, Mitchell was her best friend, and she just knew she wouldn’t survive losing him. But it wasn’t just her, their family wouldn’t survive it either; she was certain of it.

  “Maybe you should stay away from them for a bit,” Luke said. She knew it wasn’t a suggestion; she could hear it in his voice and feel it through the bond. He might as well have just said, You will stay away from them, because that’s exactly what he meant.

  She stiffened in his arms. “Amelia’s my child.”

  He sighed, and pulled her closer. “And she’s his soulmate. That trumps child and you know it.”

  “What if she …” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded panicked, and she let the words drift off, despising how weak she felt.

  “She won’t,” Luke said, sternly, but not unkindly. “Amelia would kill herself before him.” He leaned into her, brushing his lips against her ear and whispered, “Lola, you know I’m not asking. Don’t fight me on this.”

  Right then, Lola decided that it absolutely sucked that Luke was not only her soulmate but her maker as well. It wasn’t often that he pulled out the authority card on her, but when he did, everything in her wanted to do exactly what he asked. She was tied to him in every way a vampire could be tied to another, and ninety-nine percent of the time, she wouldn’t trade that for anything. This wasn’t one of those times.

  Lola didn’t know if she believed him, but she really wanted to. God, caring sucked.

  CHAPTER 6

  Eric was giving her a look. It was narrowed eyed, with absolutely no humor in it, and it looked completely foreign on his chiseled face. His leafy-green hair was in its usual perfect mess, and his vibrant green eyes were hard and serious. He sat on the edge of Amelia’s bed, knees spread, elbows resting on his thighs, and hands clasped together. His jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth. Amelia knew he was annoyed at her, but really, she didn’t know what he wanted her to say.

  Megan stood beside him giving Amelia the same kind of look. Her fiery curls were pulled back in a severe ponytail, and she drummed her fingers against her hips as she glared. There were a few dots of dried blood staining Megan’s baby-blue T-shirt, and her jeans had a small rip on the right knee.

  Mitchell started to cough again, and Amelia rushed over to him, propping another pillow behind his head. He was sitting in one of the large brown leather chairs in front of the unlit fireplace, with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a white fleece blanket tucked snuggly around him. “I’m okay, love,” he choked out through a round of hacking coughs, and tried, unsuccessfully, to bat her away.

  Amelia ignored his attempts to push her aside and finished fluffing up the pillows. Once she was done, she stepped back and rolled her eyes at him dramatically. He wasn’t okay. Far from okay, but she was going to fix him. She was sure of it. Mitchell was the one thing she knew she could take care of, and she would. No matter what. Hopefully.

  Certain he was comfortable, Amelia focused back on Eric. “So the vamps are trying to take back their soulmates?” she asked. She felt a slow smile spread on her lips as she tried to stifle her bubbling laugh. “And the soulmates are what? Rebelling? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  Amelia knew that she should be upset about this. She shouldn’t be smiling. She knew that. She’d always hated the pain of the bond, and the way the vamps in the community had used it to force their soulmates into submission. And in all honesty, she had been the one who had told the human soulmates to stand up for themselves.

  But now it was … different. She was on the other side, and although she wouldn’t say it out loud, she’d been tempted more than once over the last two weeks to bite Mitchell and force him to listen to her. Even as a human, he was still the same Mitchell—sort of. Possessive, overly protective, and he always thought he knew what was best. And as a vampire, Amelia found it even more annoying. If the soulmates were in fact pushing back, was it really so wrong for the vamps to try and gain control again?

  Yes! a voice in her mind shouted, but her fangs began to poke through and her gums throbbed anyway.

  For about the millionth time, Amelia was kind of glad that she hadn’t done it yet, and that Mitchell couldn’t hear her thoughts. She felt disgusted and thrilled and wrong. She knew none of this was okay. She knew the pain of the bond was not okay and that using it was horrible. Part of her was even proud that the humans were sticking up for themselves, but a small, teeny tiny part of her understood what the vamps were doing, and that part of her craved having that kind of control over Mitchell. And she was really, really glad that he couldn’t see that thought. She could already picture the disapproval, and the lecture, and the stern look he’d give her if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “Millie, you need to take this seriously,” Eric said, cutting her another stern glare, which looked extremely wrong on him. “This morning we found Greg dead, with a stake through his heart. His soulmate told us that she was standing up for herself like you told her to.”

  Amelia’s jaw dropped—literally. She felt it sagging, and she couldn’t make her lips close. So much for Willowberg returning to normal, she thought to herself. Mitchell clasped her hand, and squeezed it tightly. She knew he was trying to give her support, but it didn’t help. Her brain raced as she attempted to imagine how Greg could be killed by his soulmate, or how his soulmate could actually do it. Amelia had almost killed Mitchell before, but she knew without a doubt, that she would have never been able to actually do it. The bond wouldn’t have let her. She was tied to him, mind, body, and soul. If he died, part of her—the best part of her—would die right along with him. And if she couldn’t do it, then how the hell had one of the others managed to?

  “How?” Amelia blurted. “How in the hell did one of the humans kill their soulmate?” Anger sparked through her, and her magic flared in response, licking at her fingertips. Her eyes tingled as a crimson haze washed over them, and her gums throbbed from the pressure of her fangs as they tried to snap dow
n.

  “Amelia,” Mitchell said, and tugged on her hand a little. She let him pull her onto his lap, and didn’t fight when his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against his clammy, hot chest.

  Fire raced across her skin in a delirious rush of sparks as his fingertips ran along her neck and down her arms, in a soothing, slow trail. Even without the bond, he could still make her body hum and burn. Her magic sputtered away, dissolving into the air, and she sucked in a long, deep breath.

  Eric cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “The vamps aren’t used to them fighting back,” he said, ruining the perfect moment. “I’m guessing he didn’t expect her to actually do it.”

  “They think Mitch has turned his back on them,” Megan added. “We’ve told them all that you guys went on vacation and that you needed a break after the hunters, but I don’t think they believe you’re coming back.”

  Amelia sighed, and wiggled around on Mitchell’s lap, getting comfortable. Of course, they wouldn’t believe it. It hadn’t even been a full two months since they had returned from their last vacation and after the mess the hunters left behind, anyone who knew Mitchell would know that he wouldn’t just up and leave on a little getaway.

  “How long has this been going on?” Mitchell asked. His voice was tight, and he held onto Amelia a little tighter, as his body stiffened and his muscles coiled beneath her.

  “Since the bonds were fixed,” Eric said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and Megan placed a hand on his shoulder. He sighed and whispered, “Mitch, I killed one of the vamps, too. Jeff. This morning.”

  “You did what?” Amelia asked, certain that she hadn’t heard him right, because she seriously couldn’t believe that Eric would kill one of their own.

  Eric scrubbed at his face roughly, before fixing his hard glare back on Amelia. “Meg and I have been using magic to deal with them. They’re all using the bond and Jeff was … he was going to drain her. I couldn’t pull him off. They’re all older than I am. All stronger than I am. I just …” He shook his head, as if he was trying to banish the memory from his mind, and Megan sat beside him, rubbing his back in slow circles. After a moment, he glanced back up at Amelia, and she had to fight the urge to gasp at the torment she saw in his eyes. He cleared his throat and said, “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill Jeff. I was just trying to scare him. But it’s as if the vamps just don’t care anymore. They’re looking at their soulmates like a piece of meat, and that’s it. Even Kyra and Jake were going at it today. Jake didn’t care that he was killing her. If we hadn’t shown up, I’m sure one of them would be dead now. And the humans in town, they’re pushing back, too. Without Ty, they’re not donating.”

  “Well, get Tyler on it then,” Mitchell snapped. “Where the hell is he?” His body temperature spiked. Amelia felt the burning flush of rage radiating onto her back, and he started to cough again—just a little. She tried to get up, but he tightened his hold and said, “Stay put,” firmly in her ear.

  Amelia stopped moving instantly, not because he could actually hold her there, but because touching him, being close to him, made everything a bit easier to handle. The soothing contact of their skin kept her emotions in check and her magic at bay, and she was certain that if she actually moved with the turmoil that was brewing in her belly, she’d fry them all. She could feel it smoldering and almost see the bright embers of her magic crackling and sparking, just waiting to ignite.

  “He’s leaving, Mitch,” Eric said helplessly and scrubbed at his face. “He’s packing up his apartment and he’s going.”

  “We need to know how you deal with this crap,” Megan growled, as she got up and made her way down the three steps of the raised landing. Her eyes were cold, hard, calculating, focusing on Mitchell, and her magic flared, a glistening layer of white-blue light coating her skin. Amelia could smell her anger, hot and thick in the air.

  “Megan,” Amelia said, with a lethal warning in her voice, watching Megan closely as she moved closer to them.

  “They’re scared of me,” Mitchell said simply, before Amelia could say anything further. The comment made everyone, even Amelia, shift to look at him as if he were crazy. “What?” he said with a shrug and a chuckle. “I didn’t really do anything. I gave them rules; they followed them. They were too scared not to.”

  Suddenly, Amelia couldn’t take it anymore. Vampires being killed by their soulmates. Humans refusing to donate blood. The hatred etched on Megan’s face. The lost and helpless look in Eric’s eyes. Tyler leaving. “Where’s Lola?” she asked. The vamps may not be scared of Eric, but Lola and Angelle and Luke … She jumped off of Mitchell’s lap, and paced towards the door.

  “She’s busy,” Mitchell said, brushing off her question, in a way that made her feel like he was telling her to sit down and be quiet while the grown-ups talk.

  Amelia spun back around. “Dammit, Mitch, where is she?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she shouted, “Lola!”

  Her heart pounded in her chest, relentlessly hard, and she clenched her teeth. She knew Mitchell was only blowing her off in an attempt to keep her calm. And she instantly felt a little sick for snapping at him. He was trying to help her; she got that. But seriously, it was times like this that she swore he knew nothing about her. Since when did blowing her off ever keep her calm?

  Not even a second after she shouted, the door swung open and Luke strode into the room. He was relaxed, as always, and wore an easy smile. Amelia gritted her teeth and said, “Luke, where is she?”

  He walked right up to her, unfazed by the fury that she was sure was blazing in her eyes, and he ruffled her hair. “She’s busy,” he said, his eyes bright and quizzical. “You get me instead.”

  Amelia didn’t know what to think. Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked up at him, and his smile widened. Lola was never too busy. Not for her. Not anymore. Realization dawned on her slowly. “You’re playing into his stupid idea, aren’t you? You want me to bite him so you’re keeping her away.” She spun around, narrowing her eyes at Mitchell. “What’s wrong with you? You’re freakin’ dying and you want me to do something that will hurt you!”

  Her blood pressure was rising, and her heartbeat, erratic. Mitchell extended a hand to her, beckoning her back to him so he could help calm the panic that was swirling around in her brain, but she didn’t move.

  “What do you mean he’s dying?” Megan asked. Her voice was whisper soft, so soft that Amelia wasn’t sure if Megan was using their link or if she had actually said the words.

  “Use Eric’s senses; you can smell it,” Luke said, confirming that she’d said it out loud.

  Amelia watched as Megan closed her eyes. The bright and clean white-blue light of Megan’s magic wove out through the air, and when the strands connected with Eric, they blazed fire-red—the same red that Amelia’s magic now glowed since she had become a vampire. Megan took in breath after breath, and the blood rushed from her face, turning her complexion pasty and a little green. Her eyes popped open, and she fixed her gaze on Mitchell. “Oh, my God.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Mitchell couldn’t sleep. Aside from the constant coughing every time he laid his head down on the pillow, his brain wouldn’t turn off. He could see what needed to be done and it terrified him. Amelia had to bite him to strengthen the bond. Sure, he’d been asking Amelia to do it, and for the most part, he wanted her to bond them together fully, but it still freaked him out, just a little.

  He hated feeling so weak. Mitchell couldn’t remember the last time he had actually feared dying. But right now, he did. He wasn’t ready to leave this lifetime, but more importantly, he knew Amelia wasn’t ready for him to go.

  It had been a long day. One of the longest he could remember. Once Megan realized how sick he was, the girls had taken off to the library with all of Amelia’s journals in hand, determined to find a way to fix him.

  His sweet little Amelia had grown up so much. And he was so proud of her. He really was.
It just kind of sucked that she still had such a long way to go, and Mitchell really didn’t know if he’d be around long enough to help her get there.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to leave. Start a family. Be happy. And get away from all this death and danger. All he had wanted was to give her a new life and a fresh start.

  But Mitchell knew what all of this was now. A test. A test of their strength, of them together, but most of all, it was a test of her worth. He’d known all along that becoming human had been too easy. There was always a catch to magic. Always. But what he didn’t know was what the end result was supposed to be. What was the point of this test?

  Mitchell had played the conversation that Amelia had had with her mother, after she had first arrived in Willowberg, over and over in his mind, and he was no closer to the answers now, then he had been nine months ago when it had happened. He’d figured that her mother had been up to something then, but now that he knew she was Mother Nature, he was sure of it. He was also sure that Mother Nature had been hinting at something. The spirits rarely gave a person a second chance at the same lifetime. There was something Amelia was meant to do in this life. And he was pretty sure he knew what it was; he just didn’t understand why.

  So many things just didn’t add up. Amelia had cast the soul curse fifteen hundred years ago, but Mother Nature had said she had only been her mother for a little over twelve hundred years. Mitchell knew it was possible that Amelia hadn’t been put back into the life cycle for a few hundred years, but what he didn’t get was why her parents had changed. Witches always had the same families. So why had Mother Nature taken on the role as Amelia’s mother?

  After the girls had left to try and figure out a way to fix him, Eric had confessed that he’d taken not one, but two vampire lives in the last week. With Luke, they had spent hours discussing the situation, but came up with little that would help. They considered separating the vampires and soulmates, but they knew that that wouldn’t do any good. Separating them wouldn’t stop the bond, and most likely, it would only intensify the vampires’ need to use the pain in order to get their soulmates back. Neither of them had any insight on what was happening with Tyler and Angelle, and by the time Amelia came back, exhausted and desperately needing sleep, they were no closer to a solution then they had been before she left.