The Soul's Mark: CHANGED (22 page)

The house was quiet as she wound her way through the halls.  She’d expected Luke and Lola to be
back by now, but as she listened, she was sure that they weren’t.  The house felt empty.  She couldn’t help but wonder if all of this could have been avoided if she’d done something sooner.  Would the town have pushed back if Mitchell was still in charge?  Surely, there wouldn’t have been problems with the vamps if he had been.  And if she hadn’t been so focused on keeping Mitchell hidden, Amelia was certain she would have noticed the changes in Angelle, and she would have fought harder to find out what was bugging Tyler so much.

When Amelia reached the kitchen, it turned out that she didn’t have to look for Megan; the kitchen door was ajar and she was sitting on the steps outside.  Amelia heated up a bag of blood and dumped it into a tumbler, before she stepped outside to join her.  Megan didn’t look up as Amelia approached.
“It’s crazy and you are not doing it,” she said.

Amelia sank down onto the steps beside her.  “Have I been projecting everything?”

“Yeah,” Megan said, keeping her head down and shoulders hunched over, “and it’s not happening.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Amelia said.  She knew it was a pointless statement.  It was clear that Megan didn’t think it would be, but it was really all she could think of to say.  They sat there in silence for a long moment before she asked, “How’d it go with
Eric?”

“Fine,” Megan said coolly.  “We’re fine.  He passed out about an hour ago.”  She looked up then, her expression as cool as her t
one.  “You’ll use Eric and me.”

Amelia’s stomach dropped at the idea.  “I can’t.  I won’t risk it.  Not with you guys.”  She glanced down at her tumbler and then took a deep drink.  The thick liquid sloshed into her mouth, cooling the burn in her throat.

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Megan said through her teeth.  “I saw how you’re going to do it.  You projected everything to me.  If you fight me on this, I’ll destroy our bond myself.”

“Megan.”  Amelia turned back to her cousin, giving her an imploring look.  Her stomach was a mess of knots, and her throat began to burn again.  “If it doesn’t work ...”

“Exactly,” she said calmly, stopping Amelia mid-sentence.  “If it doesn’t work and you go all blood thirsty, none of us can stop you.”  Her green eyes darkened, and her face etched with resolve.  “You and Mitch are not an option for this.”

“It’ll be fine,” Amelia repeated, helplessly, pleading with her cousin to change her mind.

“You know what I’ve always thought was a great leadership quality?”  Amelia shook her head, not trusting her voice right then, suddenly feeling as if she’d swallowed a golf ball.  “Knowing when to step back and let others help you.  It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about Mitch.  He knows when to ask for help.  Trust me on this.  You are not an option.  We’ll do it once Cole gets here.”  Megan got up then, and walked away, without so much as a backwards glance, leaving Amelia on the terrace, feeling as if she’d failed them all again.

“Don’t look so scared, kid,” the girl said, as Tyler backed up another step and then cursed under his breath when he felt the solid wall press against his back.  “I know I’m not your first.”  She smirked, a sharp-toothed smirk, eyeing him in a way that made his stomach roll.

Tyler glared at her, determined to fight the fear that was coursing through him.  There was no way he was going to give her the satisfaction.  He shook his head and a bitter laugh fell out.  “No, you’re not.  And for the record, I’m far from scared.  Disgusted.  Pissed off.  Fed up with this shit, is more like it.”

Her smirk grew wider.  “Don’t lie.  I can smell your fear.”  She giggled and took another slow, teasing step towards him.  “Did Mitch not treat you well?”

The room was beginning to feel too small, tight, and airless.  A hum started in his ears.  At first, Tyler thought that it was
the sound of his blood pumping in time with his heart, which was thrashing against his rib cage, but on closer scrutiny, he realized it wasn’t.  It wasn’t actually her he was scared of.  Yeah, she was freaking him out, but not enough to really scare him—yet.  Millie and her fire-like magic scared him.  Mitchell’s hard glare and commanding presence scared him.  The sugary sweet tones that Angelle used when she was pissed off scared the hell out of him.  But what he was feeling right then wasn’t that kind of fear.  The hum felt more like rampant fury.  Hot and fierce; burning away the trickle of terror that had been sliding up and down his spine.

“What’s your problem with him?” Tyler demanded.  His voice was snarled, twisted, showing all the anger that had been building within him since he’d found out about vampires, and all the anguish he felt since falling in love with one that he could never really have, and would probably never see again.

The girl looked taken aback.  Her cold gaze softened for just a second, before it snapped back into place, frostier than before.  “I have no problem with Mitchell.  Actually, I admire him.”

Tyler scowled.  He didn’t need the heightened senses of a vampire to know she was full of it.  The way she’d reacted when she heard Mitchell’s name was not the kind of reaction one would have at hearing the name of a person they admired.  “Don’t give me that shit,” he spat.  “I know what someone holding a grudge looks like.”  A cold, hateful smile tugged at his lips.  “Wait, let me guess.  Maybe you’re like Fiona.  He slept with you for a few hundred years and dumped your ass.”  He tapped a finger against his chin, thinking, and with a shake of his head, he continued, “No
, that can’t be it.  He’s got better taste.  Oh, I know ...”

Tyler didn’t get a chance to finish.  Something shifted within him, pulling and pushing.  It was a weird sensation that was hot and cold and it sent his stomach into summersaults.  He gasped and clutched at it, certain he was about to throw-up, and then a sugary voice said, “I hope you were not about to touch my soulmate, because really, you should know that that will not be tolerated.”

Tyler looked up and blinked.  Angelle.  He blinked again and his jaw dropped.  She stood in front of him with her back to him.  Her long auburn hair was wind-blown, falling down her back.  He glanced at the door, it was still shut and locked, and then back at her, taking in the curves of her hips and back and shoulders.  He made a sound, one that he didn’t even know he could make.  It came from the back of his throat like a gurgling gasp.  Angelle smiled at him weakly over her shoulder, but he didn’t return it.  He was too busy blinking, looking between her and the door that was still sealed tightly shut.

The sound of a cell phone’s loud and clear ring made him blink again, and he watched in stunned silence as Angelle unclipped the ringing phone from a belt loop on her faded blue jeans.  She glanced at it, smiled, tapped the screen, and brought the phone to her ear.  “Whoa, Mitch, hold up a second.  You’ll never guess who I just found.  Karen.”  She paused for a brief moment and then said, “Yep, that one.”  Another pause, and her complexion paled a little, but her voice held a conflicting dry humor when she said, “Oh really?  Amelia is going to do something crazy?  I don’t believe you.”

What the hell?
The voice in Tyler’s head sounded just as shell-shocked as he felt. 
How did she get in here?  Wait.  Did she call me her soulmate?
  Tyler’s jaw dropped a little further.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl—Karen—start to back away, as if she were about to bolt.  Angelle saw it, too.  In a blink, she was blocking the doorway, wagging a finger back and forth and narrowing her big brown eyes.

Karen froze and then shot him a wild, cagey look.  She was shaking; Tyler could see it in her fingers that hung by her side.  And if he weren’t so confused right then, he probably would have laughed at how quickly his girlfriend could strike fear into someone with that heart-stopping smile of hers and her sugar sweet voice.

“What do you want me to do with Karen?” Angelle asked Mitchell.  She paused and her bottom lip dropped a little into an incredibly sexy pout.  Tyler could almost guess what Mitchell was saying.  Probably something like
Leave the kid alone
or
How many times do I have to tell you
, blah, blah, blah.  “Yeah, I know,” Angelle whined.  “But did I mention she was about to eat Ty?”  She looked over at him, again smiling weakly, but no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t return it.  “Fine.  Fine.  I’ll be home soon,” she practically yelled into the phone, and then focused a suddenly blazing gaze on Karen.  “Where’s Ben?” she growled.

Karen shuddered.  “Leave him out of this,” she whispered, dropping her eyes to the carpet.  “I didn’t touch your soulmate.  I was just going to have a taste and then I would have brought him back to you guys.  I didn’t know he was yours, Angelle.  I thought he was a runaway.  I swear it.”

Angelle cut Tyler a look, and arched a brow as if she wanted him to confirm it.  At first, he didn’t think he could.  He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something, anything, but when nothing came out, he snapped it back shut.  His tongue felt swollen, his throat, scratchy and dry.  He opened his mouth again, and this time, managed to blurt in a rough tone, “She’s telling the truth.  She didn’t touch me.”  He took a step towards Angelle, his brow furrowing, and asked, “How did you get in here?”

“Ty, honey, listen,” Angelle cooed, her eyes softening.  “I need you to get in your car and start driving home.  Mitch needs our help.”

“Angelle ...” he started, ready to protest, looking between her and Karen, not sure about what to say or do.

“Tyler,” Angelle said, cutting him off.  Her voice was sickly sweet and her eyes flared with warning.  “Get in your car and go home.”

For about half a second he thought about telling her off and demanding answers.  He was sick of this shit.  All of it.  He wanted answers.  No.  He needed answers.  But then, Angelle’s smile brightened further and she stepped clear of the door and without another word of protest, he did exactly what she’d asked: he left.

Tyler’s resolution to leave lasted as long as it took for him to get into the car and start it up.  He even managed to put the car in drive, but when he tried to peel his foot from the brake pedal, jolting shocks shot up his spine.  Did she really call him her soulmate?  Damn, was any of this real?  Sitting in the idling car, Tyler could almost pretend as if he’d never gotten out.

The problem with that, though, was that no matter how hard he tried to persuade his brain that none of it had just happened, he couldn’t.  He’d seen too much messed up crap in the last nine months for his mind to even consider that Angelle hadn’t appeared out of thin air right in front of him claiming to be his.

He gritted his teeth, staring at the room he’d just left.  His eyes strained as he watched and waited for Angelle to come out, and debated on whether to go back in or not.

“I told you to start driving,” Angelle whispered in his ear.  “Damn, Ty, this seriously isn’t the time to stop listening to me.”

Tyler jumped, his head smashing against the roof.  He swiveled in his seat, the car jerking forwards as his foot lifted from the brake.  “How are you doing this!” he yelled, slamming his foot down, and stopping the car from rolling out onto the street.

Angelle sat in the passenger seat grinning.  Her big brown eyes shimmered in the moonlight that streamed in from the windshield, but it wasn’t just her eyes, everything about her seemed to glow with excitement.

“Well, um, Tyler …
” She puffed out a breath, wiggling in her seat.  Her grin started to fade a little and as it did, she blurted, “You’re kind of my soulmate and I’m not really here.  I’m a couple miles out of town with Erin and Lucy.  Please start driving and pick us up.  I’ll explain everything, but we need to get back home.”

Tyler gawked at her for a long moment before he nodded and lifted his foot from the brake. 
Damn right, she was going to explain everything,
he thought, as he steered the car onto the road.  And it was at that moment that he decided he seriously needed his head checked, because really, what sane person would just nod and start driving?

Amelia despised being yelled at.  She figured most people probably felt the same.  It wasn’t a pleasant thing to sit through.  It took a whole lot of energy to fight down the little voice inside her head and not tell Lola to shut up.  But Amelia had to admit, she wasn’t really listening to the shrill notes of Lola’s voice.  Not anymore.  She’d effectively managed to block Lola out as soon as her voice rose to the current high-pitched, ear-splitting level.

Night had fallen over Willowberg no matter how many times Amelia had tried to wish it from happening, and even though she’d turned on practically every light in the house, she still felt as if the inky blackness from outside was trying to seep in and wrap itself around her.  The bright pot-lights in the living room were harsh enough to keep the night at bay, but just beyond the French doors, she could still see the black void, pressing against them.

Amelia stared at the unlit fireplace, not really seeing it.  The hours kept slipping past as they waited for Tyler and Angelle.  Why Mitchell was so set on waiting was lost on Amelia, but she was trying to respect his wishes, and she was going to, even if it felt like slow torture doing it.  She suddenly had a new appreciation for what he had gone through while she was human.  It was a gut twisting kind of feeling, knowing that she could force him to do what she wanted, especially when all she could think about was doing just that.  But if she was sure of anything, it was that they needed to work together, because even though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she was starting to believe that he was right.  This was a test, and her mother had made it very clear that they were stronger—better—together.