The Soul's Mark: FOUND (22 page)

“It was another vampire that killed
me.”
 
Erin stopped just outside the door
of their class and the look she gave Amelia made her want to cry.
 
“Someone Tristan trusted.
 
He thinks that the fewer vampires that know
I’m marked, the safer I’ll be.
 
He’d
freak if he knew I was hanging out with you.”

“Then why are you?”
 
It seemed like a good question, but once it
was out of her lips, Amelia wished that she could take it back.
 
Erin might have hid this from her but it was
for her own protection, Amelia was sure of it.

To her relief, Erin hugged her.
 
“Like I said, you need a friend.”
 
She released her embrace and winked. “Also, I
heard you were smart and I need someone to copy off of.
 
This whole math thing isn’t my forte.”

Amelia laughed, rolled her eyes, and they
snuck into class taking a seat in the back, just as the professor started
talking.
 
Glancing around the room,
Amelia was surprised she had never noticed before, but now as she looked at her
classmates she could tell them apart.
 
There was the group at the front on the right that looked timid and
bunched together.
 
She knew, almost
instinctively, that they were the locals and she was pretty sure they knew
about the vampires.
 
They had been overly
welcoming and had tried the hardest to please her.
 
To her left, in the middle, was Fiona, surrounded
by a bunch of shiny and fake-looking magazine cut out girls—marked or
vampires.
 
Amelia could see glimpses of
exposed marks on some of their necks and realized with a start that Mitchell
must have made them cover them for her benefit. Then there were the
out-of-towners.
 
Those were the ones who
were strictly here for school and knew nothing about the dangers that lurked in
the town.
 
They were the ones that had
spoken to her because of the hype surrounding her, but nothing more.

Amelia never ever thought she would think
it, but school sucked.
 
She could think
of a million different places she would rather be and it was deeply disturbing
that each place involved Mitchell.

He wasn't paying attention to her and it
felt as if it was a deliberate effort to stay as far out of her mind as he
could get.
 
It hurt.
 
It
really
hurt, and she found herself trying to see what he was doing.
 
Amelia let her mind drift.
 
Shutting out the droning
professor, ignoring the students’ muted whispers and extending her mind.

She reached a wall of blinding, shimmering
light, and then she found him.
 
Mitchell
was sitting on her bed, holding a photo, and he was crying.
 
Soft tears slid down his cheeks, and little
droplets wetted the surface of the photo.
 
His thumb glided over the tiny puddles, pushing them off the glossy
page.

She focused on the photo.
 
Who had made him so sad?
 
A rush of anger pierced in and she just knew
that she would kill the person who had hurt him.

It was her.

Mitchell was holding a picture of her.
 
His soft murmurs drifted to her ears, "I
love you, Amelia.
 
I'm so sorry,
love.
 
I'm sorry."
 
He set the photo down and rubbed at his face.

A hand touched her forearm.
 
"You okay?" Erin whispered.

Instantly, Amelia was back in the classroom
just in time to hear the professor announce a pop quiz.
 
It took a moment and a few deep breaths and
then she put on her best cheery smile and nodded.

Erin wasn't convinced.
 
"You're crying."

Amelia hadn't noticed, but as soon as Erin
said it, she could feel her prickling, puffy eyes and her damp cheeks.
 
She kept the smile, wiped at her eyes and
said, "Allergies."

Erin didn't believe her for a minute, but
luckily the TA handed them the test and that kept her from pushing the subject.

Amelia finished the test in twenty-three
minutes.
 
It was a breeze, solely on ring
theory.
 
Thanks to Mitchell, she was sure
she had aced it.
 
She mouthed a silent
washroom
to Erin, who still had a few
questions to answer, shouldered her backpack and went to hand in her completed
test and paper.

She snuck into the washroom just outside
the lecture hall.
 
A few girls, locals
she recognized but whose names escaped her, stopped talking as soon as she
walked in.
 
Amelia had a feeling that she
had been the topic of their gossip.
 
It
was pretty obvious from the way they clamped up and scurried out of the
washroom.

Great.
 
What had she done now?
 
Last week they would have chatted with
her.
 
They would have wanted to know what
she had done on the weekend, how she had liked the party.

Amelia dumped her bag and slammed the stall
door hard, causing it to bang back and nearly smack her in the face.
 
She had just flushed when the washroom door
banged open and a familiar voice called her name.

Fiona.
 
Her voice had a ring to it that signaled authority and status.
 
Amelia held her breath and listened.
 
The last thing she needed was to have another
face off with the Barbie Squad.
 
She just
wasn’t in the mood, not today, not ever.
 
"Did you know the little tramp was all over Eric, too?
 
It wasn't just that trash Tyler."

There was a collective gasp.
 
"Eric, really?”
 
That was Jessica, Amelia was sure of it.
 
“Mitchell’s going to kill them.
 
Does he know?”

"Sure he does,” Fiona said, followed
by a cruel laugh.
 
“It's not like she's
hiding it.
 
He deserves better.
 
Too bad Kandi and Adam didn't finish her off
at the party.
 
He'd be better off without
her."

Go
out there.
 
Stand up for
yourself
,
Amelia’s nagging
conscience urged.
 
She knew Fiona was a
witch but she had never thought her to be that bad.
 
Did she really just say it was too bad that
she hadn’t died?
 
Amelia found herself
holding her breath as they continued.
 
She crouched onto the toilet seat and made herself into a small ball,
hoping they wouldn’t notice she was there.

"So it's true,” Amber gasped.
 
“They came back to town?"

"They did and it's a good thing, too,”
Fiona said.
 
Her voice sounded forced, as
if her lips weren’t moving, Amelia could almost picture her painting on a
devil-red lipstick.
 
“Someone needs to
get rid of her.
 
Mitchell’s a mess.
 
He put out another notice to all the
vampires.
 
We’re supposed to watch out
for her.
 
He's making us her babysitter.
 
And can you believe that he threw me out last
night?"

"He what?"
Jessica and Amber said in unison.
 
Why would she have gone to him anyways?
 
Amelia didn’t know, but a sick feeling was creeping in.

"He threw me out.
 
With Amelia here he won't give me the time of
day.
 
He’s acting like the last hundred
and twenty years didn't happen."

"What are you going to do, Fiona?”
Amber asked.
 
“What if he makes you leave?
 
You're young and, no offence, but you haven't
added much value except for warming his bed."

"I'll figure something out.
 
Amelia won't last.
 
There will be an accident.
 
I guarantee it.
 
Then he'll
come
running back to me."

No.
 
No.
 
No.
 
No.
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
 
Fiona and Mitchell?
 
Not possible.
 
Dammit!
 
Why do I even care?
Maybe she knew Amelia
was there.
 
Maybe Fiona was just talking
to get a reaction from her.
 
But if that
was true, then why, why would she admit that she was planning on an
accident?
 
What kind of accident?
 
Was she really planning on getting rid of
her, just to get Mitchell?
 
What was so
great about him anyways?

"Justin said he's not hunting either,”
Amber said.
 
“He said that Mitchell is
considering banning it because she doesn't like it.
 
And he's drinking the bagged crap.”
 
He is
?
Amelia thought.
 
She hadn’t really
thought about it and had tried not to because the whole blood thing turned her
stomach.
 
“She's not even giving it up
for him but she'll slut around with Eric.
 
I bet she's even letting him bite her."

Amelia heard the door open again.
 
"Yo, Millie.
 
Hurry up," Erin's voice carried,
bouncing off the walls.

"Wrong room, freak," Fiona
snapped.
 
"Get out."

Fiona sounded vicious, and Amelia knew she had
to get out there.
 
She sucked in a
breath, hopped down off the seat and opened the stall.

Amelia had never wished she had a camera as
much as she did at that very moment.
 
All
three girls froze horrified, wearing the same expression as if they had just
seen a ghost.
 
Amelia laughed, a cold,
humorless laugh, but on the inside, her nerves were shot and she was
petrified.
 
She pushed her shoulders
back, held her chin high and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.
 
She risked a quick glance at Jessica and was
relieved to see the sad look in her eyes.
 
Fiona and Amber were mean girls but Jess was sweet and Amelia really did
like her.
 
"Watch it, Fiona,"
Amelia said coldly.
 
"Accidents do
happen and like your friends said, you have no value to us."

Amelia knew right away that she had gone
too far.
 
Fiona’s eyes flashed and her
fangs slid down, terrifying.
 
"Look
who's got all high and mighty,” she hissed.
 
“News flash Amelia, Mitchell rules this town.
 
Not you.
 
You are nothing."

Erin cleared her throat.
 
The look on her face clearly said she was
struggling to stay strong.
 
Her mark was
still showing and Amelia now knew how important it was for her to stay hidden,
so when she spoke, drawing the attention to herself, Amelia’s whole body went
cold, and she visibly shuttered.
 
"Hey, Fiona, you’re getting pretty careless.
 
Bet you’re wondering how you missed her heart
thumping away.”
 
Fiona’s horrifying eyes
focused back on Amelia and she could see the exact moment that Fiona realized
what Erin was saying.
 
“Isn’t it funny
how the bite changes everything?
 
So if
you didn’t notice her that must mean you want to hurt her.
 
Mitchell probably heard everything you just
said, too.
 
Better run home and pack your
bags.
 
You are so done here."

Without warning, Fiona charged at Amelia,
fangs bared, and for a quick second she thought she was going to die, but just
as quickly, tiny Jessica charged, pinning Fiona against the wall.
 
Erin and Amber screamed.
 
Fiona flailed, kicking and struggling and
Amelia stood still, frozen.
 
“Fiona,”
Jessica
snapped,
her voice low and deadly.
 
“Stop struggling.
 
I have three hundred years on you.
 
You don’t stand a chance.”
 
Fiona thrashed about for another second and
then she went limp, fangs folding back into her gums, and eyes returning back
to a golden hue, which was of little comfort.
 
Jessica kept a firm grip around her neck and glanced over her shoulder
at Amelia.
 
“She will be dealt with,
Amelia.
 
You have my word.”

Amelia nodded, unable to do anything else
and watched as Jessica escorted Fiona out of the washroom, Amber running along
behind them.

Once the door was shut and Erin pulled in a
few shaky breaths, she asked, “You okay?”

"Just fine."

"Good, ‘cause I have something for you
that you probably won’t like.”
 
Erin
handed her a black rose.
 
"Adam
stopped me just as I was coming in.
 
He
said you need to go to Madame Crystal for the answers to your questions.
 
He said that there’s a way out and Madame
Crystal was the only one who could help you.
 
And he said she could tell you what happened to your parents."

Amelia took the rose, twirling it around
and around, head spinning with questions. Holding it was just as bone-chilling
as the look in Fiona’s eyes.
 
"Who's
Madame Crystal?" she asked in a small voice.

“She a quack.
 
Calls
herself a psychic.”

Amelia gave the rose one long, hard look
and then tossed it in the trash.
 
She
sunk down to the floor, resting her head between her knees.
 
“I'm not going to a psychic.”

Erin crouched down in front of her and
waited until Amelia finally looked up.
 
“I think you should, Millie.
 
She
might be able to help.
 
Fiona’s after
you.
 
You keep getting these black roses
and with Mitchell…” she paused to think.
 
“I just think it couldn’t hurt.
 
Maybe she can help.”
 
She
shrugged.
 
“Besides, this could be your
only chance.
 
We’ve got no chaperones and
with what just happened the sooner the better.
 
So get your skinny little butt off the ground and let’s go.”

****

Why
in the world had she agreed to this?
Amelia
wondered as she followed Erin up the steps towards the flashing neon signboard
that read, “Witch and Psychic.”
 
Vampires, fine she could deal with it, but witches and psychics?
 
This was crossing the line.