The Soul's Mark: Broken (15 page)

“Yes,” she breathed.  She trusted him with
her life.

“And you love me?” he questioned, and his
voice grew deeper—eager.  He searched her face with confused eyes, and his
bottom lip quivered slightly.

“Always,” she answered.

Mitchell arched a brow, and his sweet smile
vanished.  “Why?”  He seemed so confused, lost, and alone.

Amelia placed a hand on his cheek,
caressing it softly, and brushed away his soft, wavy hair out of his eyes. 
“Because you are mine, and I am yours.”

“So I own you?”

“What?” 
Own me?
  That sounded wrong
and cold and dangerous.  Warning bells were ringing in her brain.  Something
was wrong.  She knew that.  She could feel it, but being in his arms … it just
felt so right, and she felt herself relax further into his embrace.

“You said that you are mine,” he stated
with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I am,” she agreed, because in that moment,
she knew she always would be.  She was his, fully and completely, forever.

He brushed her long curls from her neck,
and lazily ran his fingers along her jaw to her ear and over her collarbone. 
She shuddered with pleasure.  Her skin felt as if it was on fire, sparks
igniting beneath his fingertips.   She closed her eyes; her knees grew weak.

“What have you done to my mark?” Mitchell’s
voice boomed.  Amelia’s eyes flew open.  A pinprick of red flared in the center
of his eyes.  She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until the air
hit her burning lungs.  Confusion, love, anger, and something else that Amelia
couldn’t place passed across his face, and then his fangs snapped down like two
sharp daggers.   He tightened his arm around her waist, and glared furiously at
her.  “You say you are mine, but yet you have removed my name?” he seethed.

“I … I … I am yyyyours,” she stammered,
suddenly all too aware that she had no idea how she had ended up in his arms. 
The nearby screams and pandemonium hit her hard and fast, like steel drums
ringing in her ears.

He lowered his head, and his nostrils
flared.  “Who have you let touch you?” he demanded.  When she didn’t answer, he
yelled, “Who!”

“Let her go, fanger,” Josh spat.

Mitchell laughed.  He locked eyes with
Amelia and said, “Do not struggle.  You will stay right here with me.”  And
then he spun Amelia around, pulling her back against his chest.  “Stay out of
this, hunter,” he snarled at Josh.  “She’s mine.  She said so herself.”

Amelia watched in horror as Josh notched an
arrow on the bowstring and raised the bow, drawing the arrow, and aiming it at
Mitchell.  She couldn’t stop herself from wishing she wasn’t so short, her head
only coming to the base of Mitchell’s neck.  If she was just a few inches
taller … “Josh, don’t hurt him,” she shrieked.

Mitchell’s muscles tightened against her
back, and he pressed his lips against her ear.  His heavy intakes of breath
sounded like she was caught in a wind tunnel.  “It’s him,” he snarled.  “You
let my enemy touch you.  I can smell him in your hair, on your clothes.” He
pressed his nose against her neck, running it down and along her shoulder. 
“His scent is on your skin.”

“Mitchell, I,” Amelia started, but then the
kiss she shared with Josh played across her mind, and her voice caught in her
throat as tears welled up in her eyes.  And just like that, all the fight left
her, and she said, “Yes, I let him touch me.”

Mitchell made a sound somewhere in between
a snarl, a sigh, and a gasp, and it sounded sad and angry and utterly broken. 
And it made her heart break.  She knew it was her imagination.  But part of her
wanted to believe that he was actually sad about it, and she hung onto that as
if it was a lifeboat.  Maybe he could still feel?  Hadn’t Erin shown some of
that in turning Lucy?  Maybe, just maybe, he was still her …

His fangs suddenly ripped into her skin,
with a force she had never felt before.  It burned, and as he drank, she was
certain that he was going to suck every last drop of blood out of her.  She
wondered why she was not fighting and why she was not scared.  A small voice in
her head whispered,
Persuasion. 
And oddly, it didn’t bother her.

Amelia’s knees began to shake, her eyelids
grew heavy, and then she felt cold and disconnected, as if she was teetering on
the edge of a cliff.  “You need to run,” Mitchell growled in her ear, but she
couldn’t move.  “Run before I kill you!”

And then Amelia was running.

Her legs trembled with every step, and she
stumbled and fell to her knees.  Wind whipped around her.  Gold and white and
blue lines flashed on all sides with dizzying swirls.  The air crackled with
electricity, and a silky voice began to chant with a rhythmic beat.  “Shield
this town and keep all who are here within.  Shield this town and keep all who
are here within.” And then another voice joined and another and another, and
the energy increased, pressing on her from all sides.  “Shield this town and
keep all who are here within.”

“Stop,” Amelia yelled, as she struggled to
get to her feet.  “You can’t lock these people in here!”

A hand clasped around her forearm and yanked
her to her feet.  “You should have kept running,” Mitchell said with heart
wrenching pain in his voice.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”  Those words held so
much confusion that Amelia couldn’t help but look at him.

Mitchell’s arm ignited in flames, and he
roared out in pain.  He dropped his grip on her, and shoved her away from the
fire, as if he was trying to protect her.  Someone picked her up, and she
screamed.  Suddenly Erin was there, throwing Mitchell to the ground and
stomping out the fire.

“Josh, get her out of here!” Mitchell
hollered.  “Take the hunters and run!”

Mitchell threw Erin off of him and pulled
himself to his feet as the last of the flames died out.  Those damn hunters had
been a thorn in his side for hundreds of years and frankly, he was done with
it—done with them.  This time they had gone too far, especially that one who
had his paws all over Amelia.  He knew he was being a hypocrite; he had just
told the fool to take her and run, but seeing him grope her was more than he could
take.  From the sides he noticed his people moving in.  “Let them go,” he said
with unbridled anger.  His heart squeezed as he watched Josh help Amelia into a
Jeep, his hand lingering far too long on her thighs.

“You are no fun,” Angelle whined, stomping
her feet on the ground.  “You should have killed her.”

“Angelle, how many times do I have to tell
you?  We don’t kill the pets,” Mitchell said distractedly, scanning his
numbers.  His eyes settled on a small girl, a child really.  She was petite,
with sharp features and dirty blond hair, and she clung to one of his children.

“But …” Angelle whined.  Engines rumbled to
life in the distance, and the mob of hunters filed out onto the road, keeping
the straggling humans in the center as they ran.

“No,” Mitchell said, raising a hand to
silence her.  “I want to have some fun with them.  And with her.”  He narrowed
his eyes, watching the Jeep race from the parking lot, and for just a second,
he wondered why none of the hunters had attacked.  Surely his small numbers
were no match for that horde.  Could Amelia have ordered them not to?  If she
did, why?  It wasn’t until he had threatened her life that one of them finally
acted.  Why was nothing making any sense?

Angelle squealed in delight and clapped her
hands, drawing Mitchell’s attention away from the cars and back to the child.

“What’s your name?” he asked sharply,
stepping in front of the girl.  She squealed and scurried behind Erin.

“She’s mine,” Erin said, kicking at the
ground and avoiding his eyes.  “It’s Lucy.”

“Hum.”  Mitchell rubbed his chin as he
tried to place the child, and when he did, he smiled.  She was one of Amelia’s
rescuees.  He quickly wiped the smile away and grabbed Erin’s chin, forcing her
to look at him.  “And you changed her without consulting me because …?”

“I had a weak moment, sir,” she replied
meekly.  “I didn’t want her to die.”

Mitchell sighed and shook his head in
disappointment.  “You kill people, child.  You are a vampire.  That is what we
do.”  His hand jumped out, snagging Lucy’s wrist and pulling her out from
behind Erin.  “You cannot save them all, and you are too young for the
responsibilities of a maker.”

Lucy whimpered and tried to cower away, but
Mitchell held her tightly, and when he looked at her, all he could see was Amelia. 
Her smile.  Her lips.  He could hear her laughter and her heartbeat.  He could
see the hunter’s hands running along her body.  And he couldn’t understand why
that image threatened to rip out his heart.

“Mitch, please,” Erin begged.  She grabbed
his arm and tried to pry his fingers from the child’s wrist.  “I’ll take care
of her.  I promise.  You won’t even know she is here.”

Mitchell considered it for a moment.  If he
left the child in Erin’s care, most likely she would become his
responsibility.  He knew Erin wasn’t ready to teach, and really, what kind of
teacher would she be if her first victim ended up as one of them.  Clearly, he
had a lot to show Erin as it was.  But the idea of adding to his numbers won in
the end, or was it that the kid reminded him of Amelia?  He took a deep,
calming breath, released the child, and turned to his people.  “Did any of you
notice something different about the humans?”

His question was answered with a bunch of
blank faces.  He was about to enlighten the crowd, but then to his surprise,
Lucy squeaked, “Only that I don’t know any of them.”

“Yes, Lucy,” he said and smiled at her. 
Maybe she wouldn’t be as much trouble as he had thought.  “And do you know what
that means?” he asked.

“That they are not pets?” she answered
hesitantly, as if it was a question, and he chuckled.

“That’s right.”  Mitchell ruffled her hair,
and she grinned like a child who had just won a prize.  “And those cross-breeds
have trapped them, and us, within the town limits.”

“But they are with the hunters,” Erin
pointed out.

Exactly!
Mitchell wanted to yell it out.  He may not want to hurt Amelia, but he had no
issue with attacking her creations.  He filed a mental note to thank the
psychic for showing him the truth, even if he didn’t entirely understand why
she had.  He looked at Erin, and gave her a rolling hand gesture as he said,
“And the hunters are not …”

“Pets,” Tristan answered.  He shoved
Angelle over as he joined the front line of the group that had gathered around
Mitchell.

“Why aren’t you dead yet?” Angelle snarled
like a jealous sibling, shoving Tristan back.  She hadn’t liked him from day
one, and at times Mitchell swore she forgot that he hadn’t actually changed
her, only taken her under his wing, but anyone that watched the way they bickered
would mistake them as brother and sister.

“I was in a charitable mood,” Mitchell
answered, before Tristan could say something that would most likely result in a
fight.

“Mitch, Amelia took Luke and Eric,” Lola
said, stopping Angelle before she could disagree with his decision.

“Did she now?” Mitchell glanced back at the
road.  Why would she take two vampires when she had all those hunters?  Life
had been so much easier when he could hear the witch’s thoughts—less confusion
that was for sure.

“Why can’t I feel him anymore?  Is he
dead?” Her voice quivered, and she looked completely lost without her sidekick
glued to her hip.

“You can’t feel him because the witch has
finally released us.  She has broken the bond.  We are free.”  He said it with
conviction, but it felt wrong.  There was something pulling at his conscious; his
heart sank a little bit, and right then, Mitchell wasn’t entirely sure that he
wanted to be free … At least not free from her.

“Let go, Josh,” Amelia screamed.  “Put me down!” 
She kicked and clawed, digging her nails into his flesh, but he wouldn’t put
her down.  Amelia summoned her power and let it surge through her, sending out
wild blasts of energy.  Suddenly Josh’s skin was gone, and she was being
carried by bones.  He ran to the Jeep, pulled open the door, and tossed her in.

“Cole, hold her still!” he yelled, as he
held her firmly in place; his skeletal hands were hard and cold, pressing
against her thighs.  Cole jumped into the Jeep, pulled Amelia onto his lap, and
pinned her arms to her side.  She swiveled and bent forwards within his grasp
and bit one of his restraining arms hard.  Hard enough that she tasted blood,
and he yelped.  His skin shuddered, melting within her teeth, and then, it was
gone.  She could feel his sharp ribs digging into her back as he held her
tightly.

“Let me go.  He’s burning.  I have to help
him,” Amelia screamed, tossing and turning her body as she fought to get out of
Cole’s grip.  The door slammed, and within a second, Josh was in the driver’s
seat, turning the key, and then peeling out of the parking lot.

“Is it still bleeding?” Josh yelled over
Amelia’s awful, grief-stricken screams.  Even to her own ears, they sounded
raw, full of angst and sorrow, but she couldn’t stop.  They just kept falling
from her lips, in an incomprehensible slew of demands, and no matter how hard
she tried, she couldn’t get the image of Mitchell, with flames racing along his
skin, out of her mind.