The Soul's Mark: FOUND
Page 23
“I think she’s starting to remember,” Kandi giggled, clearly enjoying Amelia’s confusion and panic.
“Where’s Erin?” Amelia asked. “What did you do to her? If you hurt her I’ll kill you.” She felt completely discombobulated, dizzy, weak, and heavy. The man laughed and it sounded loud and drawn out. What had he given her? She felt as if she was drifting in and out. A moment of focus and then it was gone.
“Now this brings me back,” he said and leaned in towards her. Close enough that Amelia could smell his sour breath. “You were more worried about your parents than yourself five years ago and now here you’re tied up again and worrying about Erin.”
“Leave her alone,” Amelia said, trying to wiggle out of the ropes again. A pair of firm hands squeezed her shoulders, holding her in place. “Why are you doing this to me? Why now? Why didn’t you just kill me then?” Amelia screamed. She felt hot and cold all at once. Nothing made sense and the damn drugs were playing with her mind. She felt a burst of power, some focus, and then dizzy. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it together. She tried to reach out to Mitchell, but even the link was foggy and she couldn’t see what he was doing. Did he even know she was gone? She yelled out to him, trying to let him back in, but nothing. It was like listening to a static-filled radio station. She was really starting to hate herself for ever listening to that stupid psychic. Madame Crystal, Amelia was certain, had caused more harm than good.
“Did you really think I did this all just for you?” He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his back, and grinned at her. “You are just a means to an end.” He sat there staring at her, black eyes burning a hole in her and then, out of the blue, he shot up cursing, at least she thought it was cursing, in a language Amelia did not understand. His white complexion turned ghostly, and then, he crumpled back onto the chair, leaning over and gasping for breath.
“You okay, Tristan?” Adam asked, patting him on the back.
Tristan? Where had she heard that name before? Come on, Amelia, her inner voice urged. Put it together. You know this. Tristan. Tristan. Oh my God. “Erin belongs to you,” she said in a small, shaky voice, not really to him, more to herself. If Erin was his, then that meant Erin had set this up. She had helped him. Erin had known all along about her parents, about Mitchell, about everything. She hadn’t really been hurt and she had lured Amelia out to her death.
He laughed, not a nice laugh. “Yes, Erin’s mine. Or was.” Tristan stood up slowly and ran his hands through his greasy black hair, and then he shrugged and glanced at Adam and Kandi who were standing by him, waiting anxiously. “Erin’s no longer with us. At least I won’t have to lie to her anymore. Mitchell just killed her.”
“Oh well,” Kandi said with a malicious smile. “I wasn’t a fan of Erin 2.0. But third time’s a charm, right? Maybe you’ll get lucky next time.”
Dead. Did he really just say Erin was dead? And Mitchell… Mitchell killed her? No. He wouldn’t, Amelia tried to convince herself. But she knew, deep down, that if Mitchell thought Erin had hurt her he wouldn’t think twice about killing her. “Why are you doing this?” Amelia asked and realized she was crying when she heard the tears in her voice.
“Don’t cry, Amelia,” Tristan said. He reached out to brush her tears away and before she thought about it, she bit him. She bit hard, almost hard enough to draw blood—but not quite. His eyes flashed and the florescent lighting glistened off his fangs. In a quick, fluid motion, he slapped her. Amelia screamed out in pain. She was sure her cheekbone had cracked from the impact.
Adam and Kandi lunged for him, tackling him down to the ground. Amelia tried to follow them but it was a useless effort. She couldn’t keep up with their speed. They were on the ground, and then they weren’t. They were behind her. The three of them were moving so quickly that when she looked to the sounds of the scuffle they were already across the room. “Tristan, stop,” Adam grunted. Somehow, he had managed to get Tristan into a headlock. “You’ve waited too long for revenge. What’s the point if you kill her before Mitchell gets here?”
Amelia wasn’t entirely sure why, but the thought that this was all for Mitchell enraged her. “Mitchell has nothing to do with this!” she shouted.
“Mitchell has everything to do with this,” Tristan snarled. “Everything that has happened to you, to your parents, it’s all because of Mitchell.” Adam let him go and Tristan slithered across the floor like a snake. “Your loyalty to them is disgusting, Amelia. They’ve all hurt you. Mitchell, Erin, Angelle. They knew all about you. But you’re still trying to protect them. It’s pathetic. Get a backbone.”
How could he talk about Erin as if she was just some piece of junk? Amelia couldn’t wrap her head around it. They were bonded, or had been. “What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t have to lie to Erin anymore?” Amelia played the story Erin had told her over and over in her mind, and the pieces just seemed to click together, like a jigsaw puzzle. Erin had said she had been killed by a vampire and Tristan, Amelia was certain, was that vampire.
“Finally.” Tristan clapped his hands in excitement. “I thought you were never going to ask the right question.” He seemed to have calmed down, but he was still pacing the room restlessly. His fangs were still flashing and his eyes still blazing. “Erin and you might have been good friends in another life time. You guys are so much alike. So inquisitive and so loyal. Her loyalty is what killed her twice and yours will be the reason for your death.” His tone became softer, almost caring as he spoke of Erin. Amelia knew she had to keep him talking about her. Maybe it would stall him, give her some time to get out of this mess. The flickers of raw power were coming to her in bursts now and Amelia was pretty sure the drugs were starting to wear off. She just needed more time. Tristan sat back down in front of her and his lips started to curve upwards.
“You killed her,” Amelia said, and Kandi and Adam laughed. They were standing behind Tristan watching her like a hawk. “Erin thought it was a friend but it was you.”
Tristan’s smile grew wilder and his eyes blazed brighter. “I knew you were a smart one. It was an accident,” he shrugged. “Mitchell’s fault.”
Another burst of warmth sparked in the pit of Amelia’s stomach. She focused on it, pulled it together in a ball of fire and just as she gathered it, it smoldered away, as if a bucket of water had been dumped on it. A flash of white-hot rage hit her, for a moment, Amelia thought it was her own anger, but it faded in and out, hot then warm. She closed her eyes tightly, focusing on the feeling and she saw Mitchell’s contorted, grief-stricken face and then it was gone.
Amelia glared at Tristan. “So you blamed her death on Mitchell. You told her it was him,” she said, gauging his reaction. An instant replay of Madame Crystal’s advice to Erin flashed through her mind, “Memories are not always as they seem.” His eyes blazed brighter and she knew instinctively she was on the right path. “Why?”
Amelia caught a movement from the corner of her eyes just as Kandi yanked on her hair, bending her neck almost to a breaking point. “He’s taking too long,” she said in a whiny voice. “The bond is strong with them. I can smell it. Let’s just kill her know. He’ll suffer just as much.”
Amelia kept her eyes focused on Tristan and for a minute he looked like he was considering it. The thought passed clearly across his face and she was sure this was the end. Was that a bad thing? She wasn’t sure it was. It would stop her suffering. It would set Mitchell free and if she was gone, he wouldn’t have to go on with his stupid suicide mission. She was pretty sure Tristan didn’t know that she had blocked their bond, so if he killed her, maybe Mitchell wouldn’t even feel it.
Adam noticed that Tristan was considering the idea and he was suddenly untying her wrists, kissing and licking the inside skin over her veins. Kandi’s tongue darted out, licking her neck, dry and prickly, like a cat’s tongue. Amelia quivered and bile rose up her throat. Think about something else. Focus on happy thoughts, a voice in her head coaxed. B
ut it was no use. The only thing that crossed her mind was that Mitchell didn’t know how much she really loved him.
The pinprick of fangs pressed into her wrist. Amelia closed her eyes, held her breath and shouted as loudly as she could through the bond, I love you, Mitchell.
CHAPTER 28
“Tristan,” a familiar, but somehow too bitter, voice rang through the room. “You’ve always underestimated me. I think it has to be your biggest weakness.” Amelia thought she was just hearing things and she kept her eyes closed. The voice sounded so much like Erin’s, but it couldn’t be. Erin was always animated, bubbly. Never cold. And she was dead.
Unexpectedly, Amelia’s neck swung up like a slingshot and Kandi’s lips were gone. She opened her eyes just in time to see Tristan hurl himself at her and Adam dropped her wrist. From behind, she heard the dry snap of bones breaking and Tristan leapt over her. He wasn’t lunging at her, Amelia realized, and gulped down a scream. He was going for whatever was behind her. She swiveled her head around to see Erin rip Kandi’s head clean off, blood spraying, splattering in a line across Amelia’s face, and the sound—wet and meaty—of flesh tearing made everyone freeze, like marbleized statues.
“I never liked her,” Erin (but not Erin) smirked, Kandi’s head dangling from her hands, her lifeless body at Erin’s feet. She shot a look at Adam and tossed the head to him, as if she was pitching a ball.
Amelia was incredulous. Little, harmless Erin. All the cuts and blood gone. It was impossible. Erin had looked almost dead, a pulpy, meaty mess, dangling in front of her room from a rope, but now… now her sharp features were smoother, lustrous and flawless. Her tan was gone. Her eyes were radiant rubies. Amelia was so taken aback at what she was seeing that she didn’t notice that Adam was coming out of his haze until Erin said, “Yo, Mitch, um, little help here would be nice.”
Adam was closing in on Erin, like a lion stalking its prey. Tristan stood still, gaping, and Amelia bolted into action, struggling to untie her legs. She had just managed to get the ropes off and pull together a surge of white-hot iridescent light, a display of radiant colors like a rainbow flashing in her line of vision, when Tristan grabbed her by the neck and smashed her hard against a wall, effectively extinguishing her concentration.
Amelia heard grunting to her left. She struggled to see what was happening but she couldn’t move. Tristan held her tightly and lifted her a few inches off the ground. She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes felt as if they would pop out of the sockets from the pressure and her face started to throb. “I’m really going to enjoy this,” he growled.
“Put her down!” Mitchell barked, from somewhere in the room, out of sight. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“Sure it does, old friend,” Tristan said, keeping his scorching gaze fixed on Amelia. Stars flashed in front of her eyes and she struggled, trying to get a breath. “If I kill her then I’ll kill part of you. It’s wonderful how this soulmate crap works.” Amelia was sure her face was turning blue and she wasn’t sure how much longer she had. Her lungs felt as if they were about to burst, and he tightened his grip on her neck, crushing her air pipe further. “It took you long enough to find her. I had thought killing her parents would have been enough to draw you out but I guess it all worked out in the end.”
“I’ll kill you,” Mitchell growled.
“Kind of the point,” Tristan chuckled. “I kill her. You kill me. All the problems solved. I won’t have to live like this anymore and I get my revenge. It’s the perfect plan. I’ve been dreaming of this day for fifty-three years.”
“I know the truth, Tristan.” Amelia was pretty sure it was Erin speaking but everything was starting to sound distorted and the world around her was taking on a grayish tone. “Funny how your manipulation just disappeared once I changed. I know you planted my memories of Mitchell killing me. You can’t blame him anymore.”
“Shut up, Erin,” Tristan spat. He loosened his grip around Amelia’s neck and she sucked in a ragged breath. He shifted his gaze for a quick second to Erin and Amelia noticed a glazy look in his eyes.
“I will not shut up,” Erin said, sounding desperate, and then Tristan’s grip constricted again around Amelia’s throat. “You need to stop this. Mitchell saved you. You would’ve died if he hadn’t changed you. It’s not your fault. And, hey,” Erin paused, and Amelia could just imagine her snarky look and striking a pose. “I came back. It doesn’t need to end like this. Stop blaming yourself. You were new. You lost control. It’s not your fault.”
Tristan uttered something, but to Amelia it just sounding like mere fuzz. She could barely make out Tristan’s form standing in front of her and she could no longer feel Mitchell, not even a trace of the chain that connected them. She felt cold, as if a gusty burst of a winter’s storm engulfed her, and her vision was murky, full of shadows. Then, everything around her went dark and she was falling, tumbling in a pit of wretched darkness.
****
“Amelia, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Caldwell said. “You shouldn’t be here.” Her airy and soothing voice wrapped around Amelia, easing her fears.
Amelia snuggled her head into her mother’s lap and she smiled. Her mother always smelled like just-washed laundry, fresh and soft. “I just had the craziest nightmare, Mom. It was horrible. You and Dad were dead and I was a witch and there were vampires.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mrs. Caldwell said, and played with Amelia’s hair, braiding it and then loosening it to braid again. She sounded sad, and a bit agitated, and very, very distant.
Amelia sat up and looked her mother over. She was wearing her favorite white flannel nightgown. “Mommy, are you okay?” Amelia asked. Mrs. Caldwell was frowning, and Amelia couldn’t remember ever seeing that before. Her mother never frowned. She always said it caused too many wrinkles. “Oh my sweet, sweet child,” Mrs. Caldwell cooed, and rested a hand on Amelia’s cheek. “You were not dreaming. You are a witch, Mitchell is a vampire, and your father and I are…”
“No! No, no, no,” Amelia screamed, cutting Mrs. Caldwell off. “Where’s Daddy? I want to see Daddy.” Frantically, she scanned the room for her father and she gasped. Just a moment ago, she had been sure she was in her parents’ room cuddled up on their bed, but the image was fading, and now she found herself sitting on a fluffy ball of… cotton candy? Amelia hesitantly let her fingers drift across the soft and silky surface. She peeked over the edge and saw her body, covered in blood, lying on the cold, hard floor, and glanced back at her mother. “Am I dead?” she asked in a small, unsure voice and then pinched herself as hard as she could and winced when it hurt.
“In a way, yes, but not really,” Mrs. Caldwell murmured, pushing a loose curl out of Amelia’s eyes. “At least not yet. You are in limbo. The air spirits warned me that you were not coping well and sent me to help you.”
“Air spirits?” Amelia asked lamely, totally befuddled, and a little scared.
“Yes, sweetie. That’s the element our family is closest to. You can think of them like your guardian angels.” Mrs. Caldwell opened her arms and Amelia went for the hug. She kissed the top of Amelia’s head and smoothed back her hair. “I’ve been watching you over the last weeks. I’m so sorry this has been so hard for you.”
As if she was hit by a tidal wave, the reality of what had happened in Amelia’s short life was absolutely crushing and with the comfort of her mother’s arms, she cried. Deep heart-wrenching sobs emerged so quickly that Amelia could hardly catch a breath and her mother held her, rocking her gently. “All this time you knew,” Amelia choked out through the sobs and pushed back slightly, just enough to meet her mother’s eyes. “You knew about Mitchell. You knew I was a witch. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mrs. Caldwell brushed the tears from Amelia’s cheeks. “The gift doesn’t manifest until you turn eighteen, and I’ve learnt over the years not to tell you too soon. You’ve never taken the news about vampires or witches very well.”
“How long have you been my mother?”
Suddenly, Amelia felt an overpowering rush of euphoria; excitement bubbled up and she could feel the eager expression stretching across her face. “So you and Daddy will come back? We’ll be a family again?”
“That’s up to you.” Little creases littered Mrs. Caldwell’s brow and her lips tilted downwards. “Our purpose over the last eight hundred years was to reunite you with Mitchell. He’s your true family, dear.”
“No. This can’t be real. I’m still having a nightmare.” Amelia fiddled with her hair, wrapping a long curl around her finger so tight that it throbbed from lack of circulation. For a moment she let her mind wander and she thought about just how odd that was. If she was dead, or sort of dead, why could she feel her pulse? Amelia gave her head a little shake, glared at her mother and said, “If you’re telling the truth then why don’t I remember the past?”
Mrs. Caldwell smiled. “Oh, sweetie. If you only knew how many times you’ve asked me that. Not everyone remembers their past lives. But with your gifts, you can access it if you want to. I can show you how. It will help you make the choice that is laid out for you.”
A choice? How many more choices would she have to make? The last few really hadn’t turned out so well, obviously; she was kind of, sort of, dead. Maybe, just maybe—not that she would ever tell him—Amelia was starting to think that Mitchell biting her and taking that one thing from her wasn’t such a bad thing after all. “What choice?” Amelia asked, discouraged.
“You can still go back to him, if you want.” Almost in unison, her inner voices screamed yes and no. “The spirits will give you another chance at this life. Or, if you so choose, you can wait until the next lifetime and, with your father and I, we will help you find him again.”