The Soul's Mark: CHANGED (2 page)

Mitchell slurped another large spoonful.  “I’m not hiding anything.  I promise.  It’s like you said, suffering strengthens the soul so I’m sucking it up.”

“Good,” Amelia said and smiled, although she wasn’t really convinced.  She was pretty sure that he needed a doctor.  She could smell the sour stench of infection on his skin and on his breath.

She
watched him silently as he finished his soup.  She could see that he was struggling, his hand trembled with every spoonful he brought to his lips, and she didn’t know what to do for him.  If they took him to a doctor, they’d risk exposing his secret, and if they didn’t, he could get worse.  If he hadn’t been a vampire for eight-hundred years, she wouldn’t have worried, but she couldn’t help but wonder what that could have done to his immune system.  She fiddled with the blankets, tucking them around his legs and fluffed the cushions, trying to hide her building concern.

“How’s everyone coping?” he asked
after he swallowed the last bit of soup.  He reached over to the nightstand and set the bowl down.  “I feel like I haven’t seen them in days.”

Amelia looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes.  It was true.  He hadn’t seen most of them in days.  The truth was their family was avoiding him as much as they could.  Seeing him so fragile was hard on all of them. 
Amelia had never really realized how much of a role Mitchell played in keeping them all together.  She’d always been so caught up in fighting with him that she hadn’t noticed he was the glue to their little family.  And without him being well, they were slowly falling apart.

She sighed. 
“They’re good, I think.  Eric and Megan have been pretty busy repairing the damage the hunters left behind.  Ty hasn’t been around much.  He’s been staying at his apartment more.”

Mitchell took her chin in his hand and tilted it up so she had to look at him.  He was quiet for a long moment, his expression hardening as he searched her face
, and for that moment, he almost looked like himself again—almost.  If it wasn’t for that speck of guarded weakness in his eyes …

“
I thought he was okay with what happened,” he said, his tone tight and tinged with doubt.

Tyler had never been okay with t
he whole drinking blood thing; Amelia knew that.  But she had really thought he would have been able to get over Angelle’s attack on him when she’d lost her soul.  And for a day or two, he’d been okay.  They had been close.  Really close.  They hadn’t left each other’s side, but then, seemingly overnight, things had changed.  Amelia almost wished they would argue it out, but they didn’t.  Instead, they just ignored each other.  Drifting apart.

“
I thought so, too.  He was, but I don’t know …” She sighed, a gusty sound.  Mitchell dropped his hand from her chin, and clasped her hand, running his thumb along her palm in soothing circles. “He’s been pretty distant the last few days.  Honestly, I think something else is bothering him, but he won’t talk to me about it.”  And then, wanting to brighten the subject, she grinned and said, “But on the plus side, Erin is doing great.  She has a date tonight.”

Out of everyone, Erin was the one person that Amelia worried about
the most.  Losing a soulmate to the final death couldn’t have been easy, not even one as vile as Tristan.  But Erin … Erin was okay.  Amelia figured she had accepted losing him long before he died, most likely when Amelia had destroyed the bond between them.

“With who?” Mitchell asked, although it came out more like a demand.
  She guessed some things would never change.  Even as a human, Mitchell was still overly protective of his family and after all, Erin was one of his vampire children, or she had been until he had become human.

Amelia smirked
; she couldn’t help it.  She knew it didn’t matter who it was with, Mitchell would find something wrong with the poor guy.  “With Drew.”

Mitchell groaned long and loud
and then he shocked her.  “I guess it could be worse.”

Was that an approval?  Amelia wasn’t completely sure.
  From what Amelia knew of Drew, he’d lost his soulmate a few years ago.  She didn’t know the details, but she did know that his soulmate had been a vampire when she’d died.  “Drew isn’t so bad. He’s better than Tristan, that’s for sure.”  Even though she said it, the statement lacked conviction.  Tristan might have been psychotic and he may have tried to kill them all (Erin included) a few times, but in the end, he had still been Erin’s soulmate, and she had loved him, whether she had wanted to or not.

Mitchell open
ed his mouth to say something but then closed it.  He scrubbed at his face roughly before looking back up at her, his sky-blue eyes taking her breath away.  “Amelia, I want the bond,” he whispered.  “I miss you.  Even with you sitting here, I feel like we are worlds apart.”

Amelia held his stare.  Her gums throbbed, and everything in her told her to just give in.  She wanted to give in.  She wanted to taste him, and to claim him.  It was ingrained in her blood.  The vampire inside her wanted nothing more than to see her name scrawled across his neck and to have the bond, and him
, at her beck and call.  And it was that very reason why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—give into the need.

“I can’t, Mitch,” she whispered, dropping her eyes.  “I won’t do that to you.”

Suddenly, the door flew open, cracking against the wall.  “Mitchell,” Lola hissed.  Her eyes were blazing crimson and everything about the way she stood in the doorway screamed fury.  “She’s not ready for that and if you keep it up, I’ll keep her away from you.”  Her nostrils flared then, and her complexion turned paper white.  She focused on him with wide, scared eyes and breathed, “You smell like death.”

Lola flew across the room in a heartbeat, and suddenly, she was beside Mitchell.  She ripped the covers off of him and tossed an overabundance of cushions to the floor.  Amelia sat rigid on the edge of the bed, watching her cautiously, as Lola scanned him from head to toe.  She ran her hand along his forehead and cheek, as Mitchell half-heartedly swatted at her, grumbling something completely incomprehensible.

Mitchell started coughing, violently.  His shoulders shook
, and his chest heaved.  Amelia shoved Lola aside and quickly reached behind him, pulling him up to a sitting position, and rubbed his back until the coughing eased up.

“How long has he smelled like this?” Lola growled, glaring at A
melia with barely hidden rage.

Amelia trembled slightly
, completely involuntarily, and before she could stop herself, she hopped off the bed, putting some distance in between them.  She had never seen Lola this mad before.  Everything about her, from her tight and thin lips, to her flexed and twitching muscles, and her crouched, ready stance screamed fury and attack.  Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but when nothing came out, she snapped it shut again.

“How long, Amelia?”
Lola yelled, balling her fists at her sides.

Amelia cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the
plum-sized lump that had formed, and whispered, “Just today.”  She didn’t mean to whisper, but her throat kept closing up under Lola’s completely disappointed and extremely furious glare.  She felt like a little kid who had been caught stealing.

“Lola, stop yelling at her
,” Mitchell said calmly, with more than a little annoyance in his raspy voice.  “I’m fine.”

It was a lie.  Amelia could smell it and she could hear it.  His heart hammered and a different kind of sweat began to bead along the base of his neck.  She followed his gaze, noticing that it was focused on Lola’s chin.  He couldn’t even look he
r in the eyes and say it.

Amelia’s
stomach twisted and her gums throbbed.  If she did it, just gave in and bit him, she wouldn’t have to guess.  He’d be an open book.  She’d know everything.  She’d be able to see how bad this cold was.  She’d be able to feel how much pain he was in, and he’d have access to her magic again.  It could soothe him.  It could help him. 
And you could hurt him,
her conscious reminded her. 
Remember the burning pain the bond had caused.  Remember the hatred it created between you.  Remember.  Remember.

Lola
shifted her glare to him.  “You’re not fine and you damn well know it.” Then she turned to Amelia and paced towards her. Her little floral summer dress brushed at her knees as she moved.  She should have looked sweet with her blond pixie style haircut, and soft features, but right then, she didn’t.  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded.  A pinprick of red flared in the center of her eyes again.  “You can’t keep this stuff a secret, Amelia!”

“I thought it was just the
cold,” Amelia said, taking a large step back.  “I only noticed it a few minutes ago.  I was going to tell you.”  And she was.  She really was going to tell them.  He needed a doctor.  She’d already figured that out, she just hadn’t figured out how to get him to one.

“You should have got
ten me immediately,” Lola snapped.  “Don’t you get how serious this is?  He hasn’t been ill in over eight-hundred years.  How do you think his body will handle it?”

Amelia blinked.  What was she supposed
to say?  If Lola was so bloody worried then why hadn’t she been to see Mitchell in four days?  Or was it five?  Amelia was the only one trying to take care of him, and really, in her defense, it wasn’t an easy task.  All she wanted to do was bite him.  It was as if they had all forgotten what it was like to be a vampire living with a human soulmate.  She had to be careful with everything she did around him.  Between her magic and her new strength and the constant, relentless urge to bite him … well, it was hard to cope, and none of them were helping.

“Lola, that’s enough
,” Mitchell said, through another round of hacking coughs.  His face was flushed and glistened with a sheet of sweat from the fever.  He clutched at his chest with one hand, rubbing it as the coughing eased, and gestured with the other for Amelia to come to him, but she didn’t.  Her fangs were starting to poke through her gums, just a little, and right then, she didn’t want to get too close.

“Mitchell, she’
s my child so back the hell off,” Lola snarled, shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder.  Lola was vibrating, her arms shaking and her fists clenched.  Her eyes washed red, and her fangs snapped down.

Amelia saw it
happen as if it was in slow motion, although she knew that it was only her vampire senses kicking in.  Mitchell tumbled out of bed, and planted himself nose to nose with Lola.  Lola raised a hand, most likely to push him back in bed; she even touched his shoulder, and it was that touch that made Amelia lose it. 
No one touched her soulmate!
  Not even Lola.

Amelia’s
fangs slid into place, a scarlet haze clouded her vision, and she lunged at Lola.  Magic surged through her veins, steaming and sparking, mixing with her vampiric powers.  Flares of crimson light shot from her in every direction, exploding in uncontrolled bursts from her skin.

Lola noticed
Amelia a second too late.  Her eyes widened and Amelia caught the scent of fear washing off her, thick as smoke.  She grabbed Lola’s hand, wrenching it off Mitchell’s shoulder, and as she did, she sent out a blast of magic from the palm of her hand, searing Lola’s skin.

Lola screamed and yanked her
charred arm out of Amelia’s grasp, cradling it to her chest.  Her eyes went vacant for a moment.  She was calling Luke; Amelia was sure of it, but frankly, she didn’t care.  She glanced at Mitchell, making sure he was okay.  He held her gaze for a long moment before he said, “Amelia, you need to calm down.”

Amelia ignored him and focused her blazing gaze on Lola. 
“Don’t you ever touch him again,” she hissed, her tone was acidic.  She felt like a coiled snake, her muscles jumping under her skin, tightening and loosening, just ready to attack.  An arm wove around her waist then, and Mitchell’s fever-hot chest pressed against her back.

“Amelia,” he br
eathed against her cheek. His hot breath puffed against her face, and tickled the fine hairs on her skin, soothingly.  He didn’t say anything else.  Just her name.  His velvety voice surrounded her and his touch comforted her, like a fleece blanket on a cold winter night.  She closed her eyes and leaned into him, letting the feel of his skin pressed against hers envelope her body in a steady stream of sparks.  Her skin tingled, and her raging emotions began to calm.

“I would never hurt him, Amelia,”
Lola said.  Reluctantly, Amelia opened her eyes and let her fangs fold back into her gums.  The last of her magic sputtered away, and Lola took a few steps towards Amelia and caressed her cheek, her eyes imploring Amelia to believe her.  “You know that.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Luke’s booming voice drew
Amelia’s attention.  “I hear you’ve tried to burn my soulmate again.”

Luke was
smiling, and his quizzical hazel eyes held humor.  He walked into the bedroom, and took a seat in one of the marshmallowy brown leather chairs.  He was in jeans and a faded blue T-shirt, and he looked completely at ease as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.  He looked the three of them over, all standing together, Mitchell at Amelia’s back, Lola at her front, and he frowned for a second, but it didn’t last.