The Soul's Mark: BROKEN Page 32


It was another memory that didn’t make sense. Amelia—his pet—wanted him dead. But if that was true, then why had he kept her? The rational part of his brain told him he wouldn’t. He would have killed her and eliminated the threat. But his memories … they told a different story. They showed something that resembled love. But that was ridiculous. He didn’t feel love. He couldn’t. Love was something that left him long ago. It was a distant memory from a time when he was human and he still had a soul.


He felt like he was missing something—something important—but his brain would not let him see it. It was hidden in a dark corner, banished from his grasp. It was in the place he put thoughts that did not coincide with his reality.


Mitchell looked back at the terrified horde of hunters, and then at his vampires, who were circling with an unsure edge.


A familiar face stepped from the crowd, moving slowly with controlled steps to the center of the hallway. He stopped five paces from the huddled mob, scanning the threat with a trained eye, and the way he moved, with stealthy craftiness, stirred another memory from the banished corner of Mitchell’s mind.


The rain pelted down, drenching the ground around them, keeping it slick with muddy patches in the grass. Tyler kept his footing, circling around Mitchell with a nimble grace.


“You sure you want to teach me this?” Tyler asked with a devilish smirk. “You know that I had a thing for Millie, right?”


“Careful now, Angelle could be listening,” Mitchell replied. “And believe me; her punishment would be far worse than mine.”


“I could handle them both,” Tyler leered. He danced back and forth like a boxer in a ring. In each hand, he spun long, wooden stakes through his fingers.


“Tyler,” he said with a laughing warning. “Don’t make me rethink having you in my house.”


“Sweetie, what the hell are you doing?” Tyler asked, snapping Mitchell out of the memory and bringing him back to the cold stone walls and the scent of tangy blood that floated through the air.


Suddenly, Angelle was standing in front of Tyler. Her fangs folded back into her gums, and her crimson gaze faded to brown. She furrowed her brow. “Why have I not tasted you yet?” she whispered.


“Because I’m not a walking fast food joint,” Tyler said with an exasperated sigh, as if they had had this conversation hundreds of times before. He reached out, cupping Angelle’s porcelain cheeks in his palms, and stepped closer to her, pressing his body against hers.


“But you’re my pet.” It was both a statement and a question; her musical voice made it sound magical, alluring, and extremely dangerous.


“Nope, not a pet,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m your boyfriend.” There was something about the way he said it that made Mitchell believe it. There was softness and longing behind the words that couldn’t be acted; it was real and mindboggling.


Mitchell used his senses, tuning into Tyler’s heartbeat, breathing in his confidence. He shut out all the other smells, honing in on Tyler, searching for the telltale signs of a lie. And all that did was fill him with even more infuriating confusion. He took a step, moving out of the shadows and into the doorway, ready to end the little reunion, and then his eyes landed on her. Amelia. And suddenly he couldn’t move.


CHAPTER 28


Amelia watched Tyler with her mouth hanging open, but she wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the hallway froze, gawking. Angelle looked like she was considering, or at least trying, to consider his statement. But then her fangs sharpened, and like a snake, her head darted out, and she sunk her fangs into his neck.


Snarls and erratic giggles erupted as the vampires began to herd the hunters together, encircling them as if they were nothing more than cattle. Amelia let a strand of magic fly, snapping it like a whip around Angelle and yanking her off Tyler, sending her flying into the wall. She opened her mouth to release the order so the hunters could protect themselves, remembering what Cole had said. The words were on the tip of her tongue, and then she caught sight of Erin and then Lucy and then Eric, and suddenly her tongue felt like sandpaper, her throat like itchy cotton, and the words lodged themselves in her throat.


Lola leaned in closely, her breath puffing against Amelia’s ear, as she said, “You may be his pet, but Mitchell has declared your creatures fair game. You can’t stop all of us.”


“Amelia!” Josh shouted, and as if that was the cue the vampires had been waiting for, they attacked with predator-like grace. Lola laughed, watching in delight as the vamps sunk their fangs into the nearest victims, and Amelia jumped back. She tried to force the words out, but they just wouldn’t come. She knew if she said nothing, people, innocent people, would die, but if she gave the order, her family would die. How was she supposed to decide who lived? How had Mitchell made those calls? Her breathing came fast, in short, hard bursts, and her pulse quickened. She felt like a trapped mouse with nowhere to run.


“Amelia, please,” Josh begged, his voice rough as gravel.


In that moment, time stood still. Amelia looked up and met Josh’s yellow-green eyes. His skin was gone; in its place stood a skeleton, and that should have been disturbing, but it really wasn’t. Not compared to the vicious looks and hateful glares that clouded the faces of the hunters. An idea began to form, shifting and molding itself from a spark to a plan, and suddenly, Amelia grinned. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said to Lola, magic licking at her fingertips. She let out a deep breath and yelled, “Josh, Cole, I order you to protect your people. Do not kill.” And just like that, the world around her began to move again.


The vamps looked at her, tilting their heads to the side like birds of prey. In that moment of distraction, Josh and Cole pushed through the center of the herd, golden sparks shivering from their bones like smoldering embers. Amelia shot forwards, and with a flick of the wrist, a shimmering plume of white light blossomed in the air. She pushed it, draping it around the hunters, caging them within the magic.


“Push them back and hold them,” Amelia shouted over her shoulder.


The air crackled with power, and blinding red tinted light flared all around her. Agonized screams ruptured, reverberating off the walls, and one by one, the vampires began to drop to the ground, with what resembled flames spreading over their flesh.


“Millie, make it stop,” Angelle shrieked as she fell to her knees. “Please make it stop.”


Amelia felt sick. Her stomach rolled and clenched, and for a second, she could have sworn she could smell the pungent odor of charring flesh. Her shield began to waver, and she opened her mouth to yell at them to stop, when Josh barked, “It’s an illusion, Millie. Get them out of here.”


“You saw me do it to Erin,” Cole snapped, eyeing her with seriously disturbing fluorescent eyes that bobbed around the sockets of his skull.


With a stiff nod, she said, “Keep them down.” And then she started manipulating her magic, shoving the hunters back.


“I told you to run.” Amelia looked. Mitchell. He looked … angelic standing just inside the door of the dungeon, and out of the line of magic that crackled and flared through the hallway, watching with cold and calculating, ice blue eyes. Even without the bond, she was drawn to him. It was like a spark; an electric current ran from her to him, binding and blending them together, uniting them as one, as they were always meant to be. And all she wanted to do was run to him.


He let his gaze sweep the room. He smiled, and it was the most complicated smile Amelia had ever seen. It was full of wonder, anger, relief, and apprehension. It was genuine and down to earth, and right then, Mitchell looked exactly like someone she could imagine kissing.


And just like that, she did. It was heart racing and passionate and deliriously sensual, and her brain tried to take it further but, of course, it was just like Mitchell to ruin her daydream. “I told you to run,” he said again; his voice consumed her. It was deep and rumbled, but at the same time, soft as silk, and her heart jumped, beating erratically in her chest.


“And I told you I wasn’t leaving you,” she whispered, repeating the words he had once said to her not so long ago. They locked eyes for a long moment, and in that moment, it was just them—alone. The screams, gone; the people melted away.


“Please fix this,” he said with a deep sigh. He dropped his head, his messy curls bouncing with the movement, and looked at the floor. “I think I miss you.”


Amelia wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but whatever it was, it definitely was not that. She dropped her shield and stepped towards him, and she was certain she saw awe and wonder flash across his face.


But then it changed.


Mitchell’s eyes hardened and flared, and he licked his lips. He started to move, stalking towards her. “You should have hid,” he whispered, as he closed the distance between them.


Amelia saw a flash of motion to her side—Josh. He grabbed a bow, notched the arrow, and she was about to scream at him not to do it, but then he aimed it at her, and her voice caught in her throat.


Suddenly a shower of hissing lights, white and gold and blue, rained down over her, and Amelia felt her own magic surge in response to the pulsing power. A figure materialized in between Josh and Mitchell. “Amelia, you really need to learn some control over these two,” a familiar voice lilted.


Amelia blinked, and in that second, the figure gained substance. “Mom?” Amelia gasped, gawking at the woman that was now pinching the ears of both Josh and Mitchell. She blinked and then everything went dark, and she hit the ground.


As soon as Amelia’s head hit the ground, air hit her throat and burned all the way to her lungs. She struggled to her feet, gasping and coughing and gripping onto the wall to push herself up. She blinked furiously, trying to clear the speckles of grays and reds and greens that were distorting her vision, and looked around; the hunters had retreated, and were now pressed against a wall with Cole in front of them. Angelle and Lola were slowly rising, their eyes wide and jaws dropped. Some of the vampires were sliding across the floor towards the hunters, and some were sitting still—motionless and stunned. Everyone was gaping, and the silence was piercing. She couldn’t even hear the intake of a single breath in the crowded hallway.