Soul's Mark 02 - Hunted

by Ashley Stoyanoff

  “You know how I told you about the photos and bios we found?”

  “Yeah,” she said apprehensively. She dropped his hand and started to knot together her fingers in her lap, trying not to fiddle or look as agitated as she felt.

  He turned into the parking lot of the nightclub, which was already alive with flashing police cars, officers scurrying about, and yellow tape marking the scene. “Well, yours was labeled as ‘recruit.’” He put the car in park and reached over, caressing her cheek. “I won’t let them touch you,” he said with a turbulent fervor.

  Just as she opened her mouth to grill him with questions, someone tapped on the window and she jumped, smacking her head on the roof. Mitchell squeezed her hand and then opened his door and jumped out of the car to meet the young female officer who, Amelia assumed, must have tapped on the window.

  Amelia had just closed her door when she heard the sharp, high-pitched voice of the officer. “Mr. Lang, I’m sorry to tell you this, but there has been another murder.”

  Amelia’s stomach flipped and flopped like a slinky making its way down a long set of stairs. “Who?” she whispered the question, closing the distance between them.

  The officer looked almost relieved that Amelia had asked and not Mitchell. She focused her grave eyes on Amelia, taking a few steps away from Mitchell, before answering. “Your housekeeper, Mabel. She was just found by her car in the mall parking lot.”

  Amelia couldn’t breathe, and she started to shake. Her head began to spin and the world around her started to blur. No, she screamed silently through the bond to Mitchell. No, they’re wrong. It’s not true.

  She looked at him, eyes pleading with him to confirm she was right. But Mitchell stood frozen. Not moving. Not breathing. Not even blinking. Amelia planted herself right in front of him, but he didn’t look at her; he just kept staring over her head. She reached up and cupped his face, bringing his gaze down to her. He pulled her into a fierce hug, tucking her head under his chin. His thoughts were a scared and muddled mess. Just as quickly as he pulled her into his arms, he pushed her away. And then, he was gone.

  Amelia felt a gust of wind as he took off. She closed her eyes and watched him through the bond. The world around him became distorted and fuzzy and dizzyingly unclear as he ran. It felt like an eternity before he stopped; even though Amelia knew it had probably only been seconds. He froze; an incoherent slew of words and thoughts ran through his mind. Dread and blinding pain hit Amelia so hard that she gasped for breath.

  And then she saw Mabel. She appeared pale with perhaps a touch of gray to her complexion. Her eyes were closed, and she almost looked as if she was taking a peaceful little nap. If Amelia could just ignore the asphalt parking lot and the arrow protruding from her chest, she would have been able to pretend that that was exactly what she was seeing; Mabel sleeping peacefully.

  Mitchell dropped to his knees, and an excruciating howl ripped from his lips as he pulled Mabel into his arms, rocking her softly and wiping the gray strands of hair from her round face.

  Flames ignited along his arms, but he didn’t notice. Mitchell, Amelia screamed, and just as the words flew from her mind, someone hit him, smacking out the fire and pulling him away from Mabel.

  A crowd was gathering. Amelia could hear the buzz of agitation and curiosity all around him. A deafening police siren blasted through the bond, and her eyes snapped open.

  Without thinking, she pulled her phone out of her purse and hit speed dial. It rang once before it was answered, and she didn’t wait for the person on the other end to speak. “Tyler,” she said faintly, feeling cold and alone. “We need to go to the mall. Can you get ready to talk to the public?” Her body temperature had dropped from chilled to freezing. “Mabel’s dead.” Tyler’s only response was a deep gasp.

  Amelia felt Mitchell take a few deep breaths, and she focused back in on him just as he covered Mabel, placing a white cloth over her. A red stain appeared where the cloth draped from the arrow and touched her chest. And then he sent some instructions in a too calm, too controlled order; like a sergeant preparing his troops. She listened to his instructions silently, and once he was finished, she relayed them to Tyler.

  “Ty, have the others call everyone on the street,” Amelia said, conveying the message. “Mitchell wants everyone to report to the house.”

  “Millie,” Tyler started.

  She squeezed her eyes shut again. “Please, come and get me.”

  Once Amelia hung up, things took on a hazy tone, and it was as if she was on autopilot. Before she knew what was happening, Tyler was opening the car door, and she was stepping out of the Jeep.

  Amelia didn’t have time to figure out how exactly she had gotten to the mall parking lot, because Officer McLean was strutting towards her. “Tyler, Amelia,” the officer shouted. “I’m glad you are here. Will you please tell Mr. Lang that this is a crime scene and he cannot just take the body.”

  “I told you,” Mitchell said stiffly from behind him. “This is internal business. You aren’t needed here.” He looked older somehow, as if a brush had swept away his forever-young features, replacing them with a devastatingly sad old man’s.

  Red streaked up Officer McLean’s neck, and he clenched his teeth. “She’s a human. That makes this our business.”

  Were they really going to argue about this? Didn’t they understand what had happened? Amelia was utterly appalled. “The arrow,” she started, but her voice squeaked. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I want to see the arrow.”

  Mitchell’s features softened at the sound of her voice and he moved towards her. “I don’t think,” he started, reaching out to touch her, but he closed his mouth when she shot him a challenging look. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was going to stop her from examining the murder weapon.

  Officer McLean looked a bit sick. “I don’t think you should look at the body.”

  Amelia gave him a terrifying look and hardly recognized her own voice as she spoke. “Stop saying that. It’s not a body. It’s Mabel.”

  Without waiting for the officer’s approval, Amelia slid past them over to the sheet that covered Mabel’s lifeless form.

  The air felt cold around her—much colder than the mild April air. It was as if someone had turned on the air conditioning and pointed the frigid breeze at her. Amelia shivered, a chill ran down her spine, and she sucked in a quick breath. With trembling hands and wobbly knees, she bent down and slowly lifted the corner of the sheet.

  Just seeing her face, Amelia again thought about how peaceful Mabel looked. Resting, she told herself again as she continued to inch away the cloth. It seemed to take forever to uncover enough to find the protruding arrow but when she did, Amelia had to fight the building scream that threatened to rip from her.

  She closed her eyes, she’s just sleeping, she’s just sleeping, Amelia reminded herself over and over, hoping to ease some of the horror that lay in front of her. And then after another breath of air, she reached out and gripped the arrow.

  Amelia wasn’t sure why it was important to touch the arrow. It was a gut feeling, and as soon as her fingers touched the cool silver, the soft humming of a song that Amelia knew well filled her ears. She opened her eyes to see Mabel walking towards her, arms loaded with bags. Something slipped from one of the bags and she smiled, bending down to pick it up.

  A shadow fell over Mabel, but Amelia could not identify its source. Mabel’s smile widened. “Thank you. This is just too much for an old woman to carry.”

  Amelia quickly opened the link for Mitchell, pushing the images at him fast and furious.

  “It’s someone she knew,” Mitchell blurted out loud.

  “What?” Tyler and Officer McLean said in unison.

  Amelia kept focused, following the shadow to Mabel’s car and watched as the bags were deposited in the trunk. Mabel turned around and her smile faded. Disappointment and regret flashed across her face, and then Amelia watched as the arrow hit.

  Amelia’s eyes fl
ew open and she gasped.

  “What is going on here?” Officer McLean asked, not sounding as confident as he did when they had first arrived.

  “Like I said,” Mitchell sighed, “this is vampire business.”

  “Dammit,” Tyler yelled, and then quickly checked himself. Amelia had hardly noticed, but the media was gathering in the empty parking lot. He continued in a furious whisper. “What’s wrong with you? Mitch, we are going to need their support on this. You can’t keep everyone safe. You’ve already called our street to the house. What are you going to do? Move the whole town in?”

  “Tyler,” Mitchell said, giving him a warning look. “They are not in danger.”

  “How do you know?” Tyler challenged. “Anyone that knows about you guys is a potential victim.” An icy look formed in his eyes. “Human relations. This is my call.” He turned away with determination, grabbing the officer’s elbow and walking away, filling him in, Amelia assumed.

  The medics pronounced Mabel dead, and Amelia felt strangely calm. She watched as they packaged her up in a bag as if she was expired meat. And then they placed her in the ambulance; the doors closed with a final click.

  Tyler must have told Officer McLean the story, because he was already standing in front of the cameras and reporters that had gathered. “At this time we cannot release much information,” he was saying. “We are actively pursuing leads. I urge you all to remain calm and continue on as normal.”

  “So the killer is still at large?” a blond reporter asked with a squeaky voice.

  “We have a few suspects,” Tyler replied indirectly.

  “Why are Mr. Lang and Ms. Caldwell here?” a male voice asked.

  “How are they involved? Is this case being taken out of the Willowberg Police’s authority?” A short brunette continued with the questions before Tyler could form an answer.

  Tyler glanced at Amelia with a look that clearly said, get in the car, and then to the reporters he replied, “Mr. Lang and Ms. Caldwell are working closely with the Willowberg Police and will aid them in any way they can to bring justice for their beloved housekeeper.”

  There was a hum of whispers and then someone in the crowd said, “You said…but that means…the victim is Mabel.”

  Tyler nodded. “Yes, and please respect their need for privacy at this time while they grieve the loss of a family member.”

  Mitchell put a hand at the small of Amelia’s back and ushered her towards the car. “Mr. Lang, is there anything you can tell us?”

  He stopped to address the question. “Officer McLean will release information once we have it.”

  Mitchell pushed Amelia forwards and opened the car door when they heard someone call out, “Ms. Caldwell.”

  Tyler cut off the questioner. “Ms. Caldwell will not be taking questions at this time. Thank you.” He gestured for her to get in the car, and she climbed in with Mitchell right behind her.

  She watched blankly as Tyler talked to Officer McLean for a few minutes. After a few nods and some very vocal hand gestures, Tyler got in the car and the engine rumbled to life. She had assumed they would have to go to the police station, but changed her mind when Tyler turned towards their house. After that, Amelia didn’t notice much of the drive. She rested her head on Mitchell’s shoulder, and they sat in cold silence.

  CHAPTER 13

  The drive back to the house was the worst drive Mitchell had ever taken. Amelia gripped his hand and murmured words that he thought were supposed to make him feel better, but they didn’t. He was the so-called leader. He was supposed to protect them. And he had failed miserably. There was no comfort that could ease his guilt. And there was nothing that would bring Mabel back.

  He had spent the last week in denial. He deeply wanted to believe that the room they had found filled with weapons and plans was just a hoax. He hadn’t been able to find any other sign of the hunters, and honestly, he had never imagined that anyone, hunter or not, would be foolish enough to attack his town. There was too much security, too many vampires. Two weeks ago, he would have sworn anyone stupid enough to do it had a death wish. But it was that idea of false security that had led to this.

  Tyler turned onto the driveway and slowed down to a crawl. Every light in the house was on, splashing the gray stone clad castle with a soft, welcoming glow. Mitchell almost laughed at the mockery, because there was nothing welcoming at all about the house. Not anymore. As they approached, his heightened sense picked up on the rising panic within.

  Tyler parked the Jeep in the carport and turned it off. No one jumped to get out, and Mitchell stared through the kitchen window, watching vampires and human soulmates mill about, tossing questions and accusations at Luke.

  “What’s the plan?” Amelia asked, bringing him back to the car. The way she looked at him made his stomach sink. It was the kind of look that said he knew what to do and he would fix this. It was also the look that he was sure he would get from everyone else and it terrified him. He wasn’t even sure what he would say to everyone. How was he supposed to reassure them when he was on the verge of freaking out himself?

  He looked back at the house, not able to look at the confidence that filled her face, and said, “I don’t know.” Without waiting for another word from her, he pulled the lever on the door—it clicked open—and with a deep breath, he braced himself for the pandemonium he was about to meet as he took the few steps into the house. Amelia and Tyler trailed along behind him.

  As Mitchell took the last step over the threshold and into the kitchen, the buzzing noise of too many people talking at once stopped, and they all came to a standstill and stared at him. Tyler went straight for Angelle, who was an emotional mess. Amelia joined Mitchell’s side, clutching his hand and offering her unspoken support. It was that gesture that broke the uptight peace that had fallen over the room, and suddenly the humans and vampires spoke at once, shouting out questions and demanding answers.

  “Is it true?”

  “Vampire hunters in Willowberg?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You promised we’d be safe here.”

  “We all need to leave.”

  The questions were flying at him so fast that he couldn’t address any of them before the next one was flung out. He wasn’t even sure who was demanding what. They were all talking over each other and pushing in around him. “Please, you all need to stay calm,” Mitchell said, but his voice sounded small and unsure and it really did not sound like his own. He looked over the crowd, feeling insignificant amongst the massive numbers. When had his community grown this much? He couldn’t remember the last time he had needed to have everyone in the same place, but now that they were all here, dread filled him. How was he supposed to protect all of them? He did a quick count, coming up with forty-six vampires and twenty-two human soulmates. So many people, so many counting on him; it was staggering.

  “Vampires and humans are dead. How can you expect…” someone yelled, but Mitchell couldn’t pinpoint exactly who was speaking before he was cut off.

  “Silence,” Amelia bellowed, pushing her way into the center of the room, pulling Mitchell along with her. “Panicking will not help anything.”

  Mitchell was blown over for an instant by the raw authority in her voice and then he pulled on Amelia’s strength and quickly tried to use it and get himself together. “The hunters are being careful. They’ve only attacked outside of the gates for a reason. They’re scared,” Mitchell said, and he was shocked at the conviction in his voice as he spoke, but it seemed to be working so he kept right on going. “They’re scared to face us all together, so right now the safest place for everyone is to stay together behind the gates.”

  “But we’re sitting ducks here,” Jeff, one of the older vampires in town, protested.

  “No we aren’t.” Mitchell spun around to find the speaker was Megan. She held his eyes for a second and then stepped up beside Amelia.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jeff growled at Megan, looking her
up and down as if she was a piece of food and nothing more.

  “Do not…” Mitchell started but let the words run out when a brilliant golden glimmer of light caught the corner of his eye. He spun, fixing his focus on Megan, who had conjured a ball of what looked like white lightning in the palm of her hand. Fear and trepidation filled his core and suddenly he came to the realization that they knew nothing about this girl who claimed to be related to Amelia. All these thoughts happened in under a second, and before he came to the conclusion that Megan could actually be a threat, the energy died off, and Megan held her chin high, glaring across the crowded room.

  “I’m Megan Caldwell,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, drumming her fingers and narrowing her bright green eyes. “And I suggest you watch your tone with me since I’m the witch who spent all day putting up protection shields around this gated area you guys live in.”

  “Megan is my cousin,” Amelia cut in, impeding anyone else from trying to declare their objections. “She is from my coven and she is marked for Eric.” Amelia swiped the hair from Megan’s neck and turned her head to give a clear view of the mark and Eric’s name. Once everyone got a good look, she went on and said, “She is part of this house, and she will be treated as my equal.”