Come to me, Erin. Tristan’s voice filled her thoughts, and the chain around her heart pulled tighter, urging her forwards. I know you can hear me, his teasing voice called again, and she threw caution to the wind, running out the door at full speed.

Tristan, where are you? Erin asked as she ran. She had never thought she would see him again, and honestly, it scared the hell out of her, but dammit, it also made her stomach flutter and her heart race.

Follow the pull, honey, he answered, his voice doing things to her that she never thought were possible, and just like that, Erin ran faster.

It was energizing. Feeling him again; feeling whole. She ran faster than she ever had before. The wind cut through her tank top and beat against her bare legs. Her pigtails flapped against her cheeks as the pull at her heart urged her forwards. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Erin knew she should turn back. She was pretty sure Tristan would kill her, but the pull wouldn’t let her stop.

Erin let the feeling wash over her. It pushed against her conscious until the only sound that she could hear was Tristan’s voice. She skidded around a corner, coming to a stop in front of her old house, and her breath caught in her throat.

Tristan stood in the doorway, the rising sun washing him in gold. She had forgotten how gorgeous he was. His hair was longer and more tousled than she had remembered, and the black stubble on his chin gave him more of a rugged look. His black on black look still screamed mysterious bad boy.

Her jaw dropped; she felt it, and she couldn’t seem to get it to close. Tristan chuckled, a deep rumble, and in a blink, he was standing in front of her. His warm breath puffed against her face, and her knees went weak. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, holding her against his lean body. “Vampirism suits you,” he breathed, running a finger along her high cheekbone and down her neck, sending tantalizing chills over her skin.

“It’s really you,” she squeaked, lost in his glorious black eyes. “You came back.” Her heart was in her throat, thumping erratically, and all she could do was gawk at him. Every place he touched there was a spark, as if fireworks were igniting along her skin.

Tristan smiled down at her. “Of course I came back.” He leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. Her lips heated, her skin sizzled, and she kissed him back with urgency. Time stopped in that moment as his lips worked over hers. In the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong—dangerous even—but she didn’t care. All she wanted in that very moment was to lose herself within his arms, feel his body pressed against hers, taste his lips …

Suddenly searing pain exploded in her legs, and her knees buckled. Erin’s eyes flew open, and she screamed. Someone grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her back, and the pain spread. It was blistering, as if she was burning alive. The heat spread over every inch of her body. Tristan let go, and she fell to the ground, flailing about and writhing in pain.

“Take her,” he said. “Lock her up with the other one.”

“Tristan,” Erin screamed. “Tristan, make it stop.” Someone grabbed her and hauled her up to her feet. Arms slipped under her armpits and began to drag her away. She had never felt a pain like this. Not even when she was human and Tristan was using the pain through the soulmate bond to control her. She expected to see flames burst up from her skin at any second.

He grinned, and his eyes flashed red. “You haven’t gotten any smarter, I see. Did you really think I’d just let you walk back in after you betrayed me to that …” His lips curled into a sneer, and his skin flushed as red as his eyes. He looked above her, to the thing that was dragging her. “Get her out of my sight, and shut her up.”

Erin hadn’t thought it was possible, but the pain became more intense. It was as if someone was stabbing her with hundreds of burning stakes all at once. The screams ruptured from her lungs like a broken dam, and then the pain took her over; everything grayed and then faded to nothing.

CHAPTER 6

“Could you hurry it up?” Amelia asked for what must have been the millionth time. Josh had been poking around for hours now, and although he was keeping most of the pain at bay, it still hurt like hell. After a close examination of her injuries, Josh had confirmed that Tristan had broken fifteen bones in her body, as well as fractured twice that many.

Josh looked up from her leg and rolled his sterling silver eyes. He smirked and said, “We could just let you heal naturally if you prefer.”

Amelia groaned, long and loud. Josh had been trying to keep the conversation light, and it was starting to drive her crazy. Every time she questioned him about Mitchell, he simply ignored her, refusing to confirm or deny if he was dead, although the sinking feeling in her stomach and the lack of a connection was confirmation enough.

For the first hour or so, all Amelia could do was cry, but then she kind of figured she was allowed, given that she was certain her soulmate was dead, and he was never coming back. Vampires don’t get second chances.

Once her tears had dried up, she realized that she was in a brick room, chained to a hospital style bed. The room had probably been used as a cold storage room at one point in time. There were no windows and no furniture other than the bed, a white plastic lawn chair that Josh sat in, and the large television screen that showed Megan, chained, beaten, and unconscious. In the center of the ceiling was a fixed light bulb with a dirty looking string as a pull cord with no fixture.

After surveying her enclosed surroundings, Amelia had managed to hyperventilate herself to the point of passing out. She had never been good with small spaces, and this was almost like being locked in a closet.

When she finally came to, Josh was still working at mending her bones, and he had given her what he called a ‘magical valium’ to take the edge off and help her mind from thinking that the walls were closing in on her.

Amelia gritted her teeth against the pain as Josh pushed down on her leg, holding the bone in place, while he infused the area with steamy power. She could actually feel the bone piece together under her skin, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“Why are you working with that monster?” Amelia asked, her voice coming out as a growl. She just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of vampire hunters working with a vampire, especially a psychotic one like Tristan. But what she really wanted to know was why. What was he getting out of this little alliance?

She hadn’t expected a response; it wasn’t the first time she had asked the question, but this time Josh shocked her when he grunted, “Common goal.”

That really hadn’t been the answer she had wanted, and she laughed bitterly. “Yeah, you both want to make sure my life is ruined.” Josh put more pressure on her leg, and Amelia let a whimper slip out from the pain. She bit her lip hard, trying to hold in a scream.

“Tristan is helping us find a way to break the bond,” he said hesitantly. He cut her a look as if he was trying to figure out if she was going to freak or not, and when she didn’t, he smiled. “Not just for you, but for everyone. We’re going to break the curse.”

“Why are you letting him screw with your mind?” Amelia spat. He couldn’t really believe that, could he? “Tristan killed my family out of revenge. Can’t you see how psychotic he is?” Tears bit at her eyes as the memory of her parents’ savage death surfaced. She blinked fast, fighting against the brutal images that crowded her mind and the tears that tried to slip from her eyelids.

Josh’s skin rippled and red flushed to his cheeks. “Don’t try and put this on him,” he snarled. He took his hand off of her leg and sat back in the chair. Anger contorted his striking face, his chiseled jaw twitched, and he yelled, “You created us! You’re the one who wanted the curse to end! You chose this, Amelia, so stop trying to put it on someone else.”

“Are you stupid?” The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them. Created them? As in created a bunch of vampire hunters? Maybe he was just as insane as Tristan. She rolled her eyes and laid the sarcasm on thick. “I’m sorry, but I think I’d remember creating a bunch of vampire hunters.”

“Dammit, why can’t you remember!” Josh stood up, knocking the chair over with a clatter.

What was Tristan doing to him? Amelia couldn’t understand how he had such a hold on Josh. She knew this was probably not the best time to provoke him. She was tied to a bed. She still had a few broken bones, and she had no magic, but she couldn’t stop her snarky retort, figuring that if he was going to kill her, he would have already. “You’re delusional.”

Maybe she should have tried just a little bit harder. In a flash, he was leaning over her; a skull with florescent eyes took the place of his normally tanned skin, sexy jaw, and amazing sterling silver eyes. “I can see what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “It is a curse. At one point, you knew that. You believed it.” Boney fingers encased her shoulders, and he shook her forcefully. “Wake up, Amelia. Mitchell is manipulating you. He’s the monster, not me.”

“Josh, you have no skin,” Amelia whispered, in a scared and small voice. She tried not to shudder, but she couldn’t stop it. It raced through her body and with it, goose bumps formed on her skin.

Almost instantaneously, his skin materialized, and he released her. Disgust etched onto his face, and he breathed, “Sorry,” before turning his back to her.

She watched his shoulders rise and fall with deep, regulated breaths as he tried to get himself together. When she noticed that his balled hands had relaxed and the color had returned to his knuckles, she said, “They are not monsters. Eric … Angelle … Erin … they’re my friends, my family.”

“Funny how you didn’t mention him in your little list.” Josh walked over to the chair and sat it upright, and slid into it. “He’s not really your soulmate. This is all a spell, an illusion. But even if he was, would it matter? You loathe him. I can see it in your eyes.”

Amelia let the words hang in the air for a minute. An illusion. Not really your soulmate. You loathe him. Eight months ago, she would have agreed with every word. But did she still believe it? Dammit! Don’t let him get into your head! A voice in the back of her mind scolded. Even if Mitchell is dead, he’s your soulmate! You love him, and he loved you.