Soul's Mark 02 - Hunted

by Ashley Stoyanoff

  It was a great effort to walk down the few steps of the landing to the main level of their bedroom, but she did it and kept on moving towards the bathroom. Between her guilt and grief and the mixed signals she was getting from Mitchell, the bond seemed to have a life of its own, and it felt like she was being pulled back two steps with every step she took. She felt as if she was running a marathon and beads of sweat began to drip down her neck and soak into the collar of her t-shirt.

  “Amelia,” he said hesitantly, and she glanced over her shoulder. He smiled, a sad and lost kind of smile, and murmured, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied robotically, and then she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Amelia was no stranger to loss or the pain that followed, but this time it seemed different. Harder and stronger and consuming. There was something about living with vampires that had corrupted her reality—people die. Somewhere, deep down, she had known Mabel would eventually die. Life ends in death. That was just plain simple logic. But living within a world that did not follow science and math and logic had changed her. Altered her beliefs.

  She searched her reflection in the mirror that hung before her, expecting to see a scared child. Someone who would rather hide underneath the bed than face the seemingly frightening world. But what she saw in its place sent a rolling shiver across her shoulders. What she found instead was a strong woman who had overcome the scars inflicted by years of grief and loss.

  Amelia knew that the change shouldn’t have bothered her. Changing was a good thing, wasn’t it? She squinted at her image trying to pinpoint the true source of her uneasiness, and it hit her like a bolt of lightning. With healing, came new life, which leads to the inevitable—new death. She had been given another chance at life, and this time, she was not scared for herself, instead she was terrified for those who could be taken from her.

  That realization spurred her into action and before long, Amelia was fully dressed in her running gear (gray yoga pants and a baggy, light blue t-shirt), and she left her room and headed for the kitchen in search of her running shoes which she was pretty sure she had kicked off there after her last run.

  Her determination was kicked up to high gear when she entered the room and found her family huddled around the island. Before she could stop it, a flash of Jessica and Justin burning alive filled her mind. Her imagination went into overdrive, and suddenly she could see the jumping flames land on her loved ones: Mitchell, Eric, Angelle, Erin, Luke, and Lola were engulfed in the inferno, while the rest of them could do nothing to stop the spreading flames.

  “That won’t happen, love,” Mitchell said reassuringly, bringing her out of the nightmare. She wanted to believe him, but the reality was it could happen. And the ghostly look he was giving her confirmed that she was right.

  Amelia looked away, unable to bear the truth that was etched on his face, and said, “Eric, you want to come for a run? I’m going to check the spells Megan placed yesterday. Make sure there are no gaps.”

  Amelia wasn’t completely sure, but she thought Eric looked almost relieved with the option to escape. “Meg, do you want to come?” he asked, as he rose from his chair.

  “Actually, I’m going to do some inventory,” Megan said, looking uncomfortable.

  “Of what?” Mitchell questioned a bit too warily for Amelia’s taste, but she bit her tongue and waited.

  The uncomfortable look quickly changed to one of a caged animal, and Megan began to nervously tap her foot on the floor in a broken, jittery rhythm. “Well, I noticed last night that there aren’t many humans in this gated area. Including the three of us here,” she said, gesturing to Amelia and Tyler. “And the twenty-two I counted…well, I think we should make sure we have enough, um, food for everyone since we are on lock down and all.” She shot an apologetic look at the vampires sitting round the table before continuing. “And if it’s okay with you guys, I was thinking that we should probably check all the houses, round up the supplies and start a ration. The vampires with human soulmates have a supply, but the rest of them…I just don’t want to add to the death count is all.”

  Mitchell’s jaw dropped, and Amelia could feel the uneasiness in him. Could Megan really have adjusted this quickly? It seemed unrealistic and really did not help to alleviate any of the suspicious that had begun to claw their way inside his mind.

  Since he didn’t look like he was about to, or even could, speak, Amelia did. “Good thinking, Megan. Erin, you can help her gather the supplies. Tell them you are acting on my authority, and for now, I want you to leave one bag of blood for every vampire in each house. Bring the rest here so we can come up with a ration system.”

  “For every vampire?” Luke asked, his quizzical eyes searching her face.

  “Yes,” Amelia replied firmly. “I don’t think we should expect their partners to become walking meals. It’s their choice to offer their blood, not ours.”

  Lola narrowed her eyes with contempt. “It sounds to me like you are protecting yourself with this idea of humans not becoming food. If Mabel could…”

  Amelia’s blood began to boil, and she fixed narrowed eyes on Lola. “Well, Mabel can’t!” she spat, cutting her off. “And I’m looking out for all of the humans in this community.” Then she focused on Mitchell. “I’m willing to let anyone in this house take my blood if you will allow it until we come up with a plan.” And then she dropped her head and padded to the door. “We shouldn’t be taking food from the community.” With that, Amelia stuck her feet into her shoes and headed out at a jog around the back of the house towards the brick wall that surrounded the complex.

  Before she reached the wall, she could already see the shimmering, blue-green barrier of energy that encased it. When she reached the wall, she let her hand graze along it, feeling the magic and attempting to decipher the spell that was used. She followed her gut, knowing there was no point in checking for gaps if she didn’t bother to ensure that the spell was actually one of protection.

  Amelia set her senses free. She weaved herself within the power and pulled out the intentions that were used to secure the premises, looking for anything that could be hidden behind the spell that would endanger her friends.

  As she searched, the spell came alive as if it had an individual heartbeat, thumping rhythmically in time with her own. It pulsed with safety and security, and after a few minutes, Amelia was certain that it would do the trick.

  She stood back for a second, scanning up the wall, and noticed that the spell seemed to dome over them, creating an almost invisible ceiling of armor, circling not only the walls but also the sky above them.

  “I’m proud of you, Millie,” Eric said, appearing at her side. “Offering your blood like that…I didn’t think you cared that much.”

  Amelia glanced at him, ready to throw back some snarky comment and joke it off, but when she noticed he was serious, she just shrugged, trying to look like it was really no big deal, and focused back on the wall.

  “Why are we checking the spells?”

  “Mitch thought it was a good idea,” Amelia said distractedly, as she began to move at a slow jog along the wall, scanning for even a pinhole area that could have been missed.

  Eric kept up, glued to her side. “He doesn’t trust her, does he?”

  Amelia stopped and turned to him. “It’s not that. It’s just we don’t know much about her and with everything happening…”

  “She’s your family,” he countered with a scowl. “And I know her. I’d know…” he insisted, shaking his head and rubbing at his face.

  Amelia bit her tongue on the word vomit which threatened to spew out of her mouth. She knew he wasn’t that gullible. She knew how screwed up the feelings could be after the bite, and she knew that he didn’t trust himself right now, let alone Megan. She took in his bloodshot eyes, his flattened hair, his grayish skin and the way his shoulders seemed to be so drooped as if they would soon be dragging on the ground. Something was eating away at him,
and Amelia suspected it was more than the conflicting emotions from the bite.

  “You want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Eric replied, accompanied by a shake of his head, and then he gestured towards the wall. “Can you actually see it or just feel the magic?”

  “Both,” Amelia said with a frustrated huff. She gave him a long inquisitive look, trying to see past his shields, and when she met his eyes, she found what she was looking for. “It’s not your fault,” she said, the words catching at her throat. How could she have not realized that Eric had been the last one of them to see Mabel alive?

  “Yeah, it is,” Eric shouted, balling his fists at his side. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before continuing, “I’m the one who left her. If I hadn’t left, they would have targeted me, and she’d still be alive.” Eric took off at a jog along the wall, and Amelia fell into step with him as they made their way down the slope towards the main gates.

  “You don’t know that,” she said.

  Eric stepped into a sprint, running a few feet in front of her, and no matter how hard she pushed, she could not catch up to him. She was just about to give up when he skidded to a stop about twenty feet from the gates, turned to her and pointed. “Is that Officer McLean?”

  Amelia reached his side and followed his outstretched finger. Her eyes landed on Officer McLean and Joe in the middle of the open gate pushing the police cruiser backwards onto the street. “What are they doing?”

  Eric snorted and rolled his eyes. “That’s a dumb question. They’re pushing a car.”

  It was Amelia’s turn to roll her eyes, and she did it with such exaggeration, she was sure she would have made Angelle proud. It was really too bad that Eric missed it. But, by the time she had finished her eye roll, he was already at the gates and had moved the car back out and onto the street.

  Amelia sighed and started towards them when the real question struck her. Why was Officer McLean here? Like a shot, dread coursed through her veins and blasts of cold and hot rushed over her.

  When Amelia reached the gate, Eric had his head under the hood of the police car hollering for Officer McLean to give the key a try. The starter grinded a few times, trying to turn over, and then the engine caught and sputtered to life.

  “What’s happened?” Amelia asked, shifting her gaze between Eric as he slammed the hood down and Officer McLean who was squinting at the open gate.

  “Don’t know,” Officer McLean said, scratching his head, and then he shrugged. “The motor stalled.”

  Amelia glanced at the police car briefly, baffled by the answer for a second before she clued in. “Sorry, I meant, why are you here? Has something else happened?”

  “No, Ma’am,” he replied, smoothing out his wrinkled trousers and then straightening the brassy nameplate on his jacket. “Just wanted to give you guys an update.” He looked rumpled. If Amelia had to guess, she would presume that he most likely hadn’t slept since the bodies were found, and the telltale signs of exhaustion were creeping their way across his face.

  “Come on up to the house,” Amelia said cautiously. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up. Officer McLean looked…tired, but there was something more beneath the raccoon encircled eyes that Amelia just couldn’t put her finger on. Fear? It would make sense with a serial killer on the loose. Especially since he was the captain of the police force and all, but still, Amelia was sure that wasn’t it. “I’m sure Mitchell would like to hear it.”

  Officer McLean jumped back at the mention of Mitchell’s name, and he pulled the car door open abruptly. “Probably shouldn’t. Lots to do at the station,” he said with haste. He caught himself and tried to compose himself as Amelia and Eric gaped at him.

  Officer McLean had always been close with Mitchell. In Amelia’s opinion, she would have said that McLean actually idolized him, almost to the point of a sick hero-worship. She quickly chalked his reaction up to lack of sleep and tension, because really, McLean would never, could never, fear Mitchell.

  He cleared his throat and swiped the back of his arm across his forehead, before climbing inside the car. He shut the door and lowered the window, poking his head out. “Nothing has changed. We haven’t found anything suspicious and no real evidence that could link anyone to the murders.”

  With a staggeringly quick move, Eric was at the window leaning in, his arm resting against the top of the frame. “So there’s nothing new,” Eric said. “And you drove here instead of calling because…?” Clearly, he hadn’t missed whatever it was that Amelia had picked up on, and she still wasn’t sure what it was that was making her feel so uncomfortable.

  Officer McLean seemed to have recovered completely as Eric questioned him, the earlier signs of uneasiness appeared to have dissolved, leaving in its place a tired middle-aged man. He sighed loudly. “I was going to try to get Mr. Lang to put you guys on a lock down; seal up the gates, keep everyone together. But,” he nodded towards Joe, who was secured in his booth at the gate, “Joe tells me he already did it.”

  Amelia glanced at the portly guard who had a cagey look in his eyes, and he nodded in confirmation with just a quick jerk of the head. She was relieved to see that Megan had ensured the spell reached his post, since he was the first means of access to her guarded world behind the gates. She glanced back at the car just as Officer McLean shifted it into reverse and slowly started to back up, making a sharp turn, as he maneuvered his car around on the road in a three-point turn. “I’ll call next time,” he grunted and then sped down the road.

  “Huh,” Amelia grunted, watching the car as it turned out of sight.

  “Probably just stress,” Eric offered, confirming he had noticed the strange behavior of one of their closest allies in town.

  “He’s run off of his feet,” Joe said. “This misses had tea with his wife this morning. He hasn’t been home since yesterday. She said he’s working like a dog to find the bastards before they can get their hands on Mr. Lang.” Creases littered his brow as he frowned. “It’d be a real tragedy for this town if anything happened to him. He scares the hell out of me,” he said with a chuckle. “But he’s one heck of a boss and well, most of us consider him and you ma’am, family.”

  Amelia was stunned silent at the intensity behind Joe’s words. She had always been fond of him and knew that he was one of those loyal dogs, the kind that would stick around until death, but to actually hear it was something else. More shocking was that there was more behind his words than loyalty. They also confirmed that he knew what was happening. Someone had told him.

  Before Amelia fully wrapped her head around the idea, Eric stated bluntly, “You know the truth.”

  “Yes, Mr. Carter. Mr. Lang himself came down. He was waiting here when my shift started.” A wide grin spread across his face. “Stupid vamp wanted me to go home. Tried to bribe me with doubling my annual salary. But the way I see it, you guys need me. I’m your first line of defense. Not gonna back away when my family needs me. Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Not me. I’m not made that way.”

  Amelia didn’t know what to say. It always floored her when one of the locals spoke about Mitchell as if he was one of them. They loved him, which for some, like McLean, came close to hero-worship. Tears of gratification sprung to her eyes and before she knew it, she was hugging the guard, a wet circle forming on his shoulder.

  “Now, now. None of that, Miss. I’ll be just fine. Don’t you fret.” He patted her head awkwardly and put a stiff arm around her, obviously not used to or comfortable with a crying woman. “Your cousin fixed up my booth. Said no one will be able to touch me.”

  Amelia sniffed and pulled herself together, dropping her hold on him and wiping away the tears. “You’re an amazing man, Joe,” she said in a choked voice. “We’re lucky to have you on our side.”

  Joe gave her a warm smile and then headed to his ‘office’, swinging the gated door shut behind him. Amelia watched as he picked up a book of crossword puzzles and a
pen, and flipped through to the puzzle he had been working on. Eric slung an arm around her shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Millie, and I doubt we’d get him to leave anyway. He’s worked here since he was sixteen.”

  Amelia stood there searching for any weakness in the armor that surrounded Joe and was glad to see that it looked like Megan had added an extra layer. A glossy shield, the same shield that Amelia had used against Eric, was covering the defense barrier. While she was checking, she racked her brain, trying to find a reason to make him leave, but then the cold hard reality hit her. Behind the shield was probably the safest place for him. The hunters surely knew about him. He really was the front lines and sending him home would most certainly result in his death. She would have to make arrangements for Franny, Joe’s wife, to be moved here as well. With her new mission in mind, she shrugged off Eric’s arm and started at a slow jog, scanning the magical armor as she went.

  Back at the house, Amelia and Eric found everyone cramped up in the study, which in Amelia’s opinion looked as if it had been converted into a war room. On the left, there were a slew of pictures and maps covering the wall. The desk had been pushed up against the center wall, her easel propped on it, displaying an oversized map of the town. Mitchell stood next to it, a pointer in hand, her family sitting in a semi-circle, all eyes focused on him.

  “As you can see, they’ve pegged us all, the marked humans included,” he said, pointing to the left of the room where the wall of pictures hung. “What we don’t know is why they haven’t attacked outright. In the past, hunters would always hit and clean out a town’s vampire population in a single night and be gone by morning. We have something they’re scared of.”

  “Or something they want,” Angelle offered, glancing at Amelia as she took a seat beside her. Eric followed Amelia into the room and sat down next to Megan.

  Mitchell’s sergeant-like demeanor faltered for just a second at Angelle’s comment, and Amelia knew he had the same concerns, but he recovered quickly and shook his head, addressing everyone as he spoke. “If it was just something they wanted, they would have already attacked, killed everyone and taken her.” And then he nodded to Amelia. “Is everything in order?”