The Soul's Mark: FOUND (23 page)

The morning’s downpour had stopped, except
for a few sprinkles, and a thick fog covered the ground, eerie and
unnerving.
 
Amelia was relieved to see the
sun desperately trying to peek out from behind the clouds and she couldn’t help
but hope that maybe, just maybe, the sun would shine and lift away the
thunderstorm that had settled over her world.

Other than the bright neon lights, the
place looked normal.
 
It was a small
house in an older part of town with a white picket fence and grass green
shutters on the windows.
 
Erin went
first, opening the whitewashed door.
 
A
bell chimed, announcing their arrival, and Amelia followed her in.

"Amelia Caldwell?" Madame
Crystal, Amelia assumed, said.
 
She was
dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, contrary to Amelia’s expectations.
 
She was young, maybe thirty, with long,
knee-length jet-black hair.
 
“I've been
expecting you.
 
I thought you would have
come sooner.”

“If you’re really a psychic wouldn't you
have known that I wouldn't be here until today?”
 
Amelia glanced around the bare room and
noticed the pile of suitcases against the wall.
 
There were three chairs around a rickety card table in the middle of the
room, but otherwise, the house was packed up.
 
“
You going
somewhere?”

“Yes, once I help you, it’ll no longer be
safe for me here, and your message was delayed,” Madame Crystal said and took a
seat at the card table.
 
“You should have
received the rose at the party.
 
How is
your head by the way?”
 
Amelia was
unnerved by the unexplained depth of her knowledge.

“Erin, we should go,” Amelia said.
 
This was nuts.
 
This woman couldn’t help her.
 
“I changed my mind.
 
This is a waste of time.”

"Shut up, Millie,” Erin snapped.
 
“Madame Crystal, the message she got said you
could help her.
 
Can you break the bond?”

“Slow down, Erin," Madame Crystal
laughed.
 
Erin was overly animated, like
always.
 
“I can't break the bond between
souls, but little Amelia can.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Amelia asked.
 
She could feel the
annoyance bubbling up and she took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself.
 
The last thing she wanted was to draw
Mitchell’s attention and after the Fiona thing, which she was sure Jessica
would be telling him about, she knew it was only a matter of time before he
tuned in.

“Look deep inside, Amelia,” Madame Crystal
said.
 
“You have always known you were
different.
 
It's time you learn why.”

“Millie, just sit down and listen to her,”
Erin urged.
 
Amelia couldn’t believe that
she was actually falling for this crap, but the look on Erin’s face showed she
was hanging onto every word.

Madame Crystal’s blue eyes focused on Erin
and she
smiled,
a sad sort of smile.
 
“She is not the only one who needs guidance
today, Erin.
 
Please sit as well.
 
I will start with you.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Erin said, and sat down,
folding her hands in her lap.

Amelia couldn’t believe what she was
seeing.
 
Was Erin really falling for all
this?
 
“Your life line has grown shorter
since the last time we spoke, Erin.
 
The
choice you made today will come at a great cost.
 
Trust the enemy.
 
Your friends are not as they seem.
 
Only your enemy can save you from
yourself."

“I don't understand,” Erin said, and looked
over at Amelia, lost and confused.

“You will when the time comes,” Madame
Crystal continued.
 
“Your friend will
show you the truth and you will know what must be done.
 
Memories can be deceiving, little one.
 
We block what we wish not to see."

A sullen, fearful expression covered Erin’s
face.
 
Amelia couldn’t stand it.
 
She needed to do something, get them out of
there.
 
She marched over to Erin, grabbed
her hand and pulled her off the chair.
 
“Erin, don't listen to her crap.
 
Come on, let’s just go."

"Your parents’ death was not an
accident,” Madame Crystal said softly, and Amelia stopped.
 
“Have you ever wondered why you were not
killed?”

Amelia whirled around, glaring daggers at
the ‘so called’ psychic and yelled, “You don't know anything about my parents!”

Madame Crystal was unfazed by her
outburst.
 
She kept her eyes focused and
the sad smile on her lips.
 
“Oh, but I
do.
 
You were tied to a chair, bound and
gagged and forced to watch while a man stabbed them.
 
He left you to watch as they bled out onto
the floor.
 
Why did he leave you alive?”

Erin’s hand went cold and clammy in her
grip and Amelia shot her a look, making sure she was okay, before she answered,
“He said it wasn’t my time yet.”

“Why not?”

“Shouldn't you already know that?” Amelia
spat.
 
All the painful memories were
suffocating.
 
She had spent years trying
to figure out why he hadn’t just killed her.
 
Terrified that he would come back to finish the job.
 
It had taken years for her to accept that he
was a psychopath.
 
There was no other
explanation.
 
She wanted to leave, get
out of there and never see this woman again but she just couldn’t move.
 
There was some part of her that needed to
hear more.
 
Erin must have noticed
because she pulled Amelia over to the table, pulled out a chair and they both
sat down.

“I do.
 
Your parents were sacrificed in order to bring you to Mitchell.”

"Are you telling me he had something
to do with their deaths?” Amelia asked, but all the fight had left her
voice.
 
It wasn’t possible.
 
He wasn’t there.
 
And there was no way that Amelia would
believe he would do something that horrible, not to her, she was sure of
it.
 
“Mitchell wouldn’t do that.”

“All the guilt and anger,” Madame Crystal
said.
 
Erin squeezed Amelia’s hand to
reassure her.
 
“It's black and dangerous,
Amelia.
 
You need to control your
temper.”

“Control my temper?
 
You've got to be kidding me.
 
You sit here and act like you just told me
some wonderful insight to my parents’ death.
 
Am I supposed to be impressed?
 
It
wouldn’t take much to find out how they died or that I was there.
 
It was all over the news.
 
You're just some fake.”
 
Amelia tried to stand up but Erin firmly held
her in place and gave her a pleading look.
 
She didn’t want to hear this.
 
It
was all too close to the truth and Amelia had fought too hard to forget.

 
“Amelia,
I know how hard this must be for you to hear, but we really do not have time
for you to wallow in self-pity.
 
Think
about it.
 
When did the dreams start?”

“The night before they
died.”

“Their death was all part of a plan to get
you with Mitchell.
 
You’re in grave
danger, Amelia.
 
Now that he has found
you, the time is coming for your reunion with the killer.
 
Your only chance to stop it is for you to
accept what you are: a witch.
 
Now that
you are eighteen, you can access your gifts.”

A rush of heat settled into Amelia’s cheeks
and she gritted her teeth.
 
“Are you
completely insane?” she uttered, her rising anger just waiting to erupt.
 
She bolted up from her chair, shoving it back
and letting it clatter to the floor.
 
“There’s no such thing as witches!”
 
Amelia reached out to Erin, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to her
feet.
 
“We’re leaving.”

“I cannot let you do that, Amelia,” Madame
Crystal whispered.

Suddenly, a violent shock surged through
Amelia’s hand, as if she had grabbed hold of an electric fence, and she dropped
her grip on Erin.
 
Out of the corner of
her eye, a glimmer of light drew her attention.
 
Amelia gasped.
 
A halo of bright,
golden light striped out in ribbons from the psychic.
 
Before her eyes, Amelia watched dumbfounded,
as a pistol formed in Madame Crystal’s hand, and she pointed it menacingly at
Erin.

“Neither of you are leaving,” the psychic
hollered, hand trembling around the gun.
 
“You will not survive this if you do not listen to what I must tell
you.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Amelia
shrieked.
 

“I’m sorry, but you need to accept what you
are,” Madame Crystal said, her voice shaky.

“Millie,” Erin whispered, “Just
do
what she says.”
 
Amelia glanced at Erin’s fear-stricken form, the gun just inches away
from her head.
 

Amelia took a deep breath.
 
“Put the gun down,” she said in a deathly
undertone.
 
“I swear if you hurt her I’ll
have every vamp in town after you in a flash.”

Madame Crystal laughed nervously, turned
the gun onto Amelia and pulled the trigger.
 
The world around Amelia seemed to freeze at the metallic click of the
bullet leaving the chamber of the gun.
 
Before she knew what she was doing, a burst of steaming energy settled
in her stomach and in a split second she yelled, “Immobilize!”
 
Erin screamed.
 
Amelia pushed on the hot energy that had
gathered in the pit of her stomach and watched as it shot out in a rainbow of
colors towards the bullet.
 
The air
around the silver bullet pieced together, as if building up a wall, and the
bullet’s velocity slowed, before clattering to the hard wood floor.
 
Amelia dropped to her knees panting.

Madame Crystal sighed in relief and smiled
wide.
 
“I’m sorry to go to this extreme
but we really didn’t have time to use a more conventional method of drawing out
your power.”

“Holy shit,” Erin breathed.

Madame Crystal ignored her and pushed on. “There
is much I need to tell you but we have a lot of work to do first.
 
Mitchell is a good man but he has no control
when it comes to you.
 
His love blinds
him.
 
You need to block him out.
 
You may be able to break the bond later if
you choose but that will take work.
 
For
now, we will need to block his connection.”

Amelia pulled herself off the floor,
snagged the chair that she had knocked over, and plopped down.
 
“I'm not a witch,” she said, but even to her
own ears it didn’t sound believable.
 
She
could feel a sudden burst of energy coursing through her veins.
 
It was comforting, like warm tea with
honey.
 
It reached from her toes to her
fingertips.
 
She had felt it once before,
on her eighteenth birthday, but she had brushed it off, thinking it was just
the flu.

“Millie?” Erin called and gave her shoulder
a little shake.

Amelia didn’t respond
,
she just kept her eyes fixed on Madame Crystal, searching her face for
answers.
 
“We do not have time for you to
get used to this information,” Madame Crystal said.
 
She got up from the table and disappeared
through a doorway, returning a minute later with a small clear bag.
 
She pulled out a white candle, set it on the
table and lit a match.
 
“The white candle
is for purity of mind.”
 
She held the
match to the wick and the candle came to life, flickering in a high flame, and
then settling to a soft and steady glow.
 
Then she pulled out a bundle of dried leaves and set them alight.
 
She blew out the flame and let them
smolder.
 
“We will burn the sage to
cleanse your spirit.
 
Breathe deeply and
let it work.”

Before she knew it, Amelia was breathing
in, deep full breaths of the bittersweet smoke.
 
The herb spoke to her and her body tingled with pleasure.
 
She could feel the light shooting out in
little sparks from her fingertips.
 
“I
can't do this,” she whispered in between a lungful of the cleansing herb.