Soul's Mark 3: Broken Read online

  “What do you mean ‘the last time?’” Megan asked, but it came out as more of a challenge than a question. And with a sideways glance, Amelia quickly noticed Megan’s tense and freaked out stance.

  “It’s kind of a long story, Meg, but she helped me block Mitchell’s connection to me when I first met him,” Amelia said dismissively, hoping Megan would relax a bit as she tried to work through what was going on. A thought dawned on her then. “Wait a minute,” Amelia said, as her eyes widened and her heart tightened. “My mother is helping you? You know my mother?”

  “Amelia, focus,” Madame Crystal said, clasping Amelia’s face in her hands, forcing her to pay attention and listen. “The one that is behind all of this is waiting for you. You need to be prepared. Whatever you do, do not harm the hybrids. You need their alliance to save the ones you love.”

  Amelia knew Madame Crystal was talking. She could see her lips moving, she could even hear the soft lilting notes of her voice, but the only thing her brain registered was ‘a little help from your mother.’ It wasn’t often that Amelia was left speechless, but right now, she was. It wasn’t that she didn’t have words she wanted to say. She did. The problem was they were all fighting to get out at once, getting all jumbled up together and lodged in her mouth.

  “They want to kill the ones we love!” Megan shouted, snapping Amelia out of her stupor.

  Madame Crystal let her hands fall from Amelia’s cheeks. She smiled and shrugged, just a small lift of the shoulders. “True, but in time they will see that you all share a common enemy.”

  “I see you still like to talk in stupid riddles,” Amelia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look annoyed, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “I have a message from your mother,” Madame Crystal said, choosing to ignore Amelia’s saucy tone. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look that Amelia thought was far too serious, and for a second, her heart stopped beating. “Your choices from your past lifetimes are coming to a head. It is now time to pick which path of destiny you will follow. Choose wisely, because your choice in this lifetime can end the cycle.”

  “What are you talking about?” Amelia scoffed, and began nervously twisting a long curl of her hair around her finger. “What cycle? What choices?” And why can’t you just speak like a normal person?

  “You already know,” Madame Crystal said, her voice floating through the air as her body began to flicker.

  “Wait! Why does Josh think my destiny is to be with him?” Amelia asked frantically, but the psychic was already gone.

  Megan’s jaw dropped, literally, and Amelia was sure her own expression looked just as stunned. What was all of that supposed to mean? her nagging brain questioned. And what does my mother have to do with this?

  “Was that supposed to be helpful?” Megan asked. “And how are we supposed to get back into…” Megan’s words fell short, and were replaced by a gasping screech.

  Suddenly, Amelia felt as if she was being sucked up by a vacuum. It started slow, a small pull at her toes, and she watched her floating frame stretch towards her body. As soon as her virtual toes touched her real ones, the suction increased, pulling at her from all sides as it tried to make her one with herself.

  The twisting and distortion seemed to last for hours, and when the last pull came, it was jarring enough to snap her spirit back in place. Megan groaned beside her and whispered, “That was so not cool.”

  “Really?” Amelia whispered, shifting slightly so she could see Megan beside her, because honestly, she thought it was awesome, and whatever Madame Crystal had done was now close to the top of her list of witchy things she wanted to learn. Megan rolled her eyes.

  Amelia had been right. The blanket was horribly itchy, and Cole had tucked them together so tightly that she could hardly move. She began squirming around, trying to loosen the blanket, and wiggled her way out of the cocoon of skin-crawling, itchy wool.

  Once she was out, she ripped the blanket off Megan while surveying their situation under the dim fluorescent lighting. They were in some kind of commercial van. There was a small, closed door at the front that led to the cab, and she could hear the muted voices of Cole and Josh from behind it.

  Amelia turned around, looking for anything they could use to get out. It was empty, aside from them, a few blankets, and a small stack of weaponry. She went straight for the weapons, and was sadly disappointed. Arrows with no bows, guns with no bullets.

  “Maybe we could use the arrows like knives?” Megan asked in a hushed tone.

  “Maybe,” Amelia agreed, and then her voice quivered as she noticed the silence in her mind. There was no hum, no thoughts, no vibrations. Just deafening silence. “Meg, I can’t feel Mitchell.”

  “He’s fine, Millie,” Megan said in a reassuring tone. She ran her fingers along the metallic wall of the van. Sparks ignited everywhere she touched. “They’ve spelled the vehicle. They’re trying to block the connection. He’s fine.” The conviction in her voice didn’t help as much as Amelia would have liked.

  Tears pricked at her eyelids, and Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. Every breath she took hurt. It was as if the air had sprouted knives as it entered her throat, and they were slicing gashes all the way down to her lungs. Megan touched her shoulder, just a soft, tentative hand, but it was enough, and Amelia shook off all the questions and fears that were flooding through her body and trying to drown her.

  “Let’s try to blast off the door,” Amelia said. She didn’t miss the uncertainty in her own voice, but she tried to ignore it, rolling to her feet and inspecting the back doors of the van. There were no levers to open it from the inside and no windows. She was trapped in a box, and it felt as if the walls were closing in, the air was getting thicker and thicker, and her chest began to squeeze tight.

  “Wait. Who was that woman? And how did she do all that?” Megan looked scared, confused, and small, and Amelia didn’t really know what to say. She didn’t have the answers. She didn’t know, and right now, the only things she could think about were the closing walls and the tight air and …

  “It’s a long story, Meg,” Amelia said, her voice raspy, and she tried to picture herself in a wide-open field with lots of air and no walls. It wasn’t working. The claustrophobia threatened to consume her. “Just help me,” she blurted, ready to start clawing at the walls. “I’ll explain later. We have to get back before she gets there.”

  “Why?” Megan snapped, frustrated. As soon as the question was out of her mouth, her cheeks flared and she quickly rushed on. “Not that I don’t want to go home but…”

  “She won’t be welcome,” Amelia said between gasps of the horribly thick and suffocating air.

  Thankfully, Megan nodded and bit her tongue, but Amelia could clearly see the questions burning in her eyes—questions that she knew she didn’t have answers to. She forced those questions out of her mind, and she called upon her magic. It sparked up, licking at her fingertips like a happy little puppy overjoyed to get attention.

  Megan stepped beside her, releasing a sigh. Amelia grinned. She knew exactly what Megan was feeling—ecstasy. The magic heated their veins, warmed their flesh, and swirled around them in a delirious heart-racing kind of sensation.

  “I’m ready when you are,” Megan breathed, her voice raspy.

  “Be ready to jump as soon as it’s open,” Amelia said. She gathered up every ounce of power she had into the palm of her hand. She pulled her arm back, readying herself to throw the bolt like a baseball. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Megan mimic her motion. “On three,” she said, and Megan nodded her understanding. “One, two, three.”

  They launched their spheres on three, and for a second, it was mind-blowing. The magic raced through the air like fireworks, lighting the dimly lit van in a glorious burst of lights and colors.

  Amelia was tossed back. She smashed her head against the small door at the front of the van with breath-taking force. Wh
ite light shot at her from all directions—blinding and scolding. Megan crashed into her with a shriek.

  The van lurched to a tire squealing stop, and the back doors screeched, as they were ripped open. Shadows emerged from the blinding light and steam that was clouding the van, and then suddenly, a strong set of arms was lifting Amelia, cradling her against a muscular chest.

  She tried to struggle and kick, but it was useless. She glared up into the laughing gray eyes that gazed down at her. “Put me down, Josh.”

  Josh’s grin widened to a cocky looking smile. He hopped down to the ground and set her on her feet outside the smoking van. She stumbled, and dizziness rushed over her in waves of hot and cold. She grabbed onto Josh’s arm out of instinct, trying to keep herself standing. He took a firm hold on her arm, keeping her upright, and then he winked and said, “Look who’s getting all grabby this time.”

  Amelia couldn’t come up with a clever comeback, so instead, she just glared at him, and he laughed. Cole emerged from the cloud of smoky steam with Megan in tow, who was growling something unintelligible while struggling to get out of his grip.

  “Megs, you blew up my van,” Cole yelled, as he swung her around to face him. “Do you really hate me this much? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Megan spat in his face. “No, you’ll just kill my soulmate.”

  In a lightning fast motion, Cole raised his hand as if he was going to strike Megan. Amelia didn’t think, she just reacted, conjuring her energy, and launching everything she had at him. It hit him square on, and he stumbled back; unfortunately, he held Megan so firmly that she stumbled with him.

  Josh spun on Amelia, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pinned her against a tree at the side of the road. “Do that again, and I’ll keep you subdued. Is that what you want?” he asked with a lethal undertone that made her bones quiver.

  “He was going to hit her,” Amelia said meekly, averting her eyes to the ground. His skin was beginning to shudder and change, and her body trembled even more. This close to him, it was hard to hide the nerves that were jumping all over her skin, and her knees began to shake.

  Josh took a long and loud breath. He dropped a hand from her shoulder and tipped her chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re going to freak out and attack him.”

  “You keep me safe?” Amelia asked, stunned. The idea was ludicrous. It broke through her fear, and she couldn’t hold in the snarky tone that coated her next words. “News flash, you’re the one that’s putting me in danger.”

  “I’m trying to save you!” he shouted, shaking her as if he thought it would knock some sense into her.

  The motion only fueled Amelia’s anger. “You kidnapped me!”

  He narrowed his eyes, and another shudder rushed over his skin. His voice was barely audible when he spoke, and it held a nerve-racking intensity. “I have orders to bring you in. Not her. You. So if you want her to make it, you’d better not do anything like that again.”

  Amelia opened her mouth to blurt out a bunch of questions, but he quickly clamped his hand over it, silencing her. He called over his shoulder for Cole to follow. Cole nodded and scooped Megan, who was clawing frantically at his feet, up from the ground, and placed a hand on her forehead. Then, just like that, she went out cold. Cole slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Josh gave Amelia a long warning look and then began dragging her through the trees.

  Josh was the leader. Amelia was dragged along behind him for a good twenty minutes, and the whole way she hoped that Mitchell was watching and tracking her movements, because, well, her brain had turned to mush, and she couldn’t figure out how she was going to get out of this mess. Somehow, Cole managed to keep Megan out as he carried her, keeping up with Josh.

  As soon as they had stepped out of the van, the hum of Mitchell’s thoughts had surfaced in her mind, and with every moment that passed, they got stronger. She continued to call to him, but so far, she had received no response. It felt as if she was trying to call through a force field that deteriorated the sound of her voice before it could reach him.

  When they stepped into a well-lit backyard, Amelia blinked against the light. As her eyes adjusted from the dark forest, her blood ran cold. She dug her feet into the ground and yanked on Josh’s wrists with all her might until he stopped. She was sure her eyes were wide with panic when Josh turned to her. “I can’t go in there,” Amelia said with a tremor in her voice.

  Josh’s hard expression softened, and he loosened up on her arm by a small fraction. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Who gave you orders?” Amelia asked. She didn’t need to, she already knew, but something in her needed to hear that her suspicion was correct. All of a sudden, things were starting to make sense. Someone’s manipulating them, Madame Crystal had said, and right at that moment, Amelia knew exactly who that someone was.

  “He’s a friend of yours,” Josh answered, his eyes clouding in confusion, and a small v-shaped frown began to form between his eyes.

  “Who, Josh?” Amelia pleaded, and tried to pry his fingers from her arm, but he wouldn’t let go.

  “Have you forgotten me already?” Amelia froze at the sound of his voice. She tried to puff out her chest and glare at him, but she must have looked as small and scared as she felt, because he just laughed.

  CHAPTER 3

  The sun was just starting to rise, and the sky was turning a Caribbean blue with small flares of light piercing through the willow branches as it made its way over the treetops.

  Luke and Eric had taken off to wake the others, but Mitchell stood still, staring at the droplet of blood on the stone walkway. He knew it was irrational, but he was terrified that if he moved, he would never find the spot again. Or maybe it was that he was scared stiff that if he moved, he’d find more spots just like this. One little drop of blood was no big deal. She was hurt, yes, but alive. But if there were more …

  The tap of heels on the stone walkway drew his eyes away from Amelia’s blood. “Hi, Mitchell, I’m Madame Crystal, but you can call me Sally,” a woman said, and she extended her hand to him. She didn’t even hesitate with him, shaking his hand with a firm grip, even though he could feel his fangs bulging out from under his lips, and he knew his eyes were blazing. He was completely flabbergasted, and the action, not to mention this unwelcome visitor appearing out of nowhere, threw him off guard and left him speechless as he studied her. She was a rather thin looking woman in her mid-thirties, an average height, dressed in a tailored coal-black pantsuit with a soft pink blouse underneath. Other than her silky, extraordinarily long black hair, she was average, nothing remarkable really, well, except that she clearly had no preservation instincts.

  The image of Amelia unleashing her magic on him for the first time leaped into his mind, and suddenly the name clicked. He caught his breath on a growl.

  Again, the woman was unfazed. She looked him straight on and said, “Let’s go inside, I need to speak to you about Amelia.”

  He stared at her with what he was sure were utterly blank eyes, and when he didn’t move, she shoved him towards the house. Hard. Surprisingly hard, and Mitchell stumbled back a step.

  Mitchell caught his balance, and his skin heated in a mix of rage and stupefying confusion, and for a moment, he just stared at her. He gritted his teeth and tried to process how this little thing could have knocked him off balance.

  The dumb moment passed. He was about to grab the woman by her collar, when Erin yelped, “Mitchell,” and skidded onto the porch. “Mitchell, wait! I need to tell you something.”

  The woman took one look at Erin and then moved on, up the steps, and through the door, as if she owned the place.

  Mitchell sent Erin a quick, commanding look. “Get the others. Now!”

  Erin hesitated, looking between him and Madame Crystal’s back. “It was my fault she met Millie,” she said in a rush, and then she turned and ran back into the house.

  Mitchell took a few brea
ths, rolled his shoulders, and tried unsuccessfully to calm down. He looked back down at the blood, his only clue that Amelia hadn’t just up and left him, and his stomach lurched with anxiety. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to move, find her and Megan before …

  He searched the bond again, but still, all he could feel was the peaceful hum of a sleeping brain. He tried again to pinpoint her location, taking deep calming breaths and focusing with every ounce of concentration he had, but with every second, it shifted, bounced, changed. One second it felt as if she was standing beside him; the next, she seemed miles away.

  Torn, confused, and outright desperate, he marched up the steps and went to find the witch that had almost gotten Amelia killed with her spells.

  He found her in the kitchen, filling a kettle with water. He watched speechless as she plugged it in, and then went about pulling out mugs, milk, sugar, and tea bags. Without even looking through the cupboards, she seemed to know exactly where everything was.

  “What do you know about Amelia?” he asked, when he finally found his voice.

  “She’s alive and well,” the witch said, and gestured towards the island for him to take a seat.

  Mitchell didn’t move. “Where is she?” he demanded, although his voice was weak, and the confusion he felt was evident. “What have you done to her?”

  The witch smiled, and the air in the room suddenly became thick, stale, and crushingly heavy. “I’m not scared of you.” Her voice held a laughter that was almost musical.

  The air became thicker, pressing against him from all sides, and the crackle of magic was deafening, ringing through his ears. She locked dark eyes with him challengingly, as if she was daring him to make a move, and in that moment, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even blink. Her smile widened then, and just like that, the air around him regulated, and he sucked in a burning breath.

  “You probably should be,” Mitchell said in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, except, right now he wasn’t so sure if that was true. Clearly, this … this … whatever she was, could protect herself. Her magic was lethal. Even now, he could still feel it in the air coiled like a snake ready to strike.