The Soul's Mark: FOUND (3 page)

Angelle shot her a sideways glance.
 
“I think it was on one of your application
forms.”

Weird
, she thought.
 
Amelia was
sure she hadn’t written down anything about food on her applications.
 
But how else would they know?

Angelle ushered her along a hallway that
opened up and was naturally illuminated by a wall of windows.
 
“That’s a balcony, obviously, and this is the
outside lounge.”

Amelia noticed a shiny pear-shaped glass
dome and wiggled her way out of Angelle’s grasp to take a look.
 
“Is that a pool?”

“Sure is.
 
We open the glass in the summer.
 
You were on the swim team at your last school, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Amelia answered.
 
The backyard was huge, lined with more of the
beautiful weeping willows.
 
Colorful flower
beds adorned every corner of the lawn.

“Come on Amelia, there’s still lots to
see.”
 
Angelle took Amelia’s hand again,
towing her away from the view.

“Sorry, I just… I mean… It’s just… wow.”

“I know, right?
 
It’s crazy.
 
This is the foyer,” Angelle said, gesturing to the lofty upper floor and
grand double staircase that cascaded down to the main level.
 
The stately steps were carpeted in a lush
forest green.
 
Above, Amelia observed the
sunlight sparkling through four oblong skylights in the turret ceiling.

Angelle pulled her along towards the
balcony that overlooked the foyer.
 
“This
room is Luke’s.
 
The other two corners
are guest rooms.”
 
She looked over at
Amelia with a twinkle in her eyes.
 
“And
this,” she said, while opening a solid dark wooden door, “is my favorite room.”

“Oh my God,” Amelia gasped as they walked
into a two-story oval library.
 
“I think
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
 
I’ve never
seen so many books in my life!”

All four walls were covered with floor to
ceiling bookshelves, painted in a high-gloss black.
 
Recess lighting along the coffered ceiling
lit up the room in a bright glow and there were three cozy chairs with exposed
legs and velvety upholstery.

“I thought you’d like it.”
 
They went down the spiral staircase in the
center of the room.
 
The smell of ancient
books mixed with new paper wafted around her.
 
There wasn’t an empty shelf in the room.

At the bottom, Angelle pulled her
along.
 
“Wait a minute,” Amelia said,
exasperated.
 
“I want to explore.
 
Slow down.”
 
She just knew she couldn’t wait to check out all the books.
 
So many wonderful books.

“There’s lots of time for that later and I
really want to show you the rest before dinner,” Angelle replied, tugging
Amelia out of the library and back into the lower level of the foyer.
 
She stopped for a second and pointed at a
door.
 
“That’s the study,” she said.
 
“Office,” she waved her hand.
 
“And that horrid room is the dining
room.
 
It’s so King Edward.
 
We never use it.”

“I’m never going to find anything in this
place,” Amelia said, flustered.

“You’ll get used to it,” Angelle replied,
taking Amelia’s hand again and towing her beyond the grand stairs.
 
“Over here is another family room.
 
It’s just like the first one and another
powder room.”
 
She kept walking, speeding
up her pace and Amelia struggled to keep up.
 
“The other stairs,” she pointed to a staircase that looked identical to
the one on the other side of the house. “And this is your room.”
 
Angelle reached out, turned the knob slowly,
and gently pushed the door open.

“This is my room?”
 
Amelia asked breathlessly, looking around the
sleek, fresh room.
 
The beige walls were
offset by rich, mahogany hardwood floors.
 
“It’s big enough to be its own apartment,” Amelia said in wonder, and
took a few steps into the room.
 
In one
corner, a massive bed sat on a raised landing with two steps leading up,
covered in a rich ivory carpet.
 
The bed
was smothered in a plethora of pillows and a down comforter in bold blues,
giving the contemporary styled room a splash of color.

At the bottom of the landing, there was a
seating area with two brown leather chairs by a limestone-surrounded
fireplace.
 
Above the fireplace hung a
large, flat-screen television and the area was brightened by a wall of windows
and French doors leading out onto the terrace, showing off a magnificent view
of the vibrant gardens and pool.

“Awesome, right?
 
And check this out,” Angelle
said, taking Amelia’s hand and dragging her up the steps towards the bed.
 
She swung open a set of double doors
revealing a walk-in closet.
 
“That wall
is for shoes,” she pointed to the left, “and that side is shelving so you don’t
need to clutter up the room with a dresser.”

There was a light
knock at the door and Amelia spun around.
 
Eric, all clean and fresh, stood there in her room.
 
He smiled at her, a radiant smile and her
breath caught in her throat.
 
“Brought your bag.
 
Where do you want me to put it?”
 
His voice sounded strained.

Amelia tried to think
of something to say but nothing would come out.
 
Her brain was clouded by a thick fog.
 
He is just so cute,
was the
only thought that was surfacing.

Thankfully, Angelle
came to her rescue.
 
“Oh, just drop it
anywhere, Eric,” she said, waving a hand at him.
 
“And go away.
 
Amelia needs time to get cleaned up before dinner.”

He dropped it at the door,
and vanished down the hallway.
 
With him
gone, Amelia was able to focus her attention back to Angelle and the cloud in
her brain cleared.

Cleaned
up?
Amelia wondered.
 
She realized what Angelle had meant when she
was led through her room and into the attached private bathroom.
 
She took one look in the mirror and was
disgusted by what she saw.
 
Her eye
make-up was smudged, tear lines ran through her foundation, her hair was a
ratty mess and her clothes were all wrinkly.
 
She looked as if she had just crawled out of bed.

“I’ll go find you some clothes while you
freshen up.”
 
Angelle glided around the
room, pulling out towels, shampoo, conditioner and soap.
 
She filled the over sized circular tub with
hot water and added bath salts and bubbles that smelled sweet and almost like
pears, all with a grace and speed that amazed Amelia.

“You don’t have to.
 
I have some clothes in my bag.”

“Nonsense.
 
I have too many anyways,”
Angelle replied, beaming at her.
 
“Like I
said before, I have a little shopping problem.
 
It’ll be good to clear out some of the stuff.
 
Most of it still has the tags on.
 
Someone might as well use them.”

Amelia watched helplessly, wondering why
Angelle was being so nice.
 
She was sure
at any point Angelle would just throw her out the door and laugh at her for
thinking that she actually liked her.
 
That was just the way her world worked.
 
People didn’t actually like her.
 
They just put up with her for the government checks.

The alternative was that Angelle actually
genuinely liked her, but Amelia had trouble believing it.

So here she was, in her new room with a
wonderful new friend.
 
But she felt alone
and scared.
 
Really,
really scared.
 
No one had been
this nice to her in years.
 
Well, no girl
had been.
 
Boys were nice but boys always
had some ulterior motive, didn’t they?
 
Amelia hadn’t planned on saying anything but she couldn’t stop
herself.
 
It just flowed out like in a
mess of word vomit.
 
“Why are you being
so nice to me?” she blurted out, and again she blushed, embarrassed.
 
It wasn’t like her to be so blunt.
 
She was usually so shy and quiet.

“Well, that’s a silly question.
 
Why wouldn’t I be?”

Before Amelia could say anything more,
Angelle disappeared, shutting the door behind her.

With a sigh, Amelia looked over at the
steaming tub filled with bubbles.
 
Her
body ached with tension and the water looked alluring.
 
She stripped off her clothes, enjoying the
sweet aroma of the bath salts and slid into the tub, immersing herself in the
bubbles and warm water.

It was wonderful.
 
The house, Angelle, Eric,
Mabel.
 
Dreams really do come
true, she thought.
 
She could feel her body start to relax as the
warm water soothed her aching muscles.
 
She let the sweet, fruity smells fill her lungs and she lay back dipping
her head under.
 
As the tension floated
away, her jumbled mind seemed to clear.

Amelia let out a soft, contented sigh and
reached for the cloth.
 
She scrubbed the
smeared make-up off her face and shampooed her hair.
 
The shampoo smelled sweet, like a fruit punch.

Finally, after, she didn’t know how long,
but long enough to be all wrinkly like a prune, Amelia got out of the
tub,
wrapped herself in a plush yellow towel and wiped down
the steamy mirror.

When she saw her reflection, Amelia
smiled.
 
She could barely believe that
this was happening.
 
She felt happy and
an odd sense of belonging.
 
A quick
thought crossed her mind, what if the others aren’t as welcoming?
 
But she quickly pushed it away, not wanting
to ruin the peace she felt at that very moment.

Angelle, Amelia assumed, had left a stack
of clothes on the bed and she picked out a pair of black leggings and an ivory
knit turtleneck sweater dress.
 
She put
on some make-up and scrunched mousse in her long, curly hair, leaving it down
to air dry.

Once she was satisfied with her appearance,
she glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed and realized that it was already
4:45.

On her way out of the room, in search for
the kitchen, Amelia noticed another door, slightly open beside the
bathroom.
 
Curious, she reached in and
flipped the light switch.
 
It was an
office.
 
A dark wooden desk sat in front
of a large bay window with a computer.
 
Across from the desk was a bookshelf with all her textbooks.
 
She smiled, excited to have her own little
study place and then, not wanting to be late for dinner because she was sure
Mabel wouldn’t be happy about that, she bolted out of the room in search for
the kitchen.

Amelia found the kitchen, miraculously, on
the first try.
 
But when she came around
the corner, veering through the living room, so preoccupied trying to figure
out if she was going the right way, she walked right smack into another cute
guy.
 
Jeez,
is this the attack of gorgeous people?
she
thought
as she looked up at him and mumbled a quick apology.

He smiled down at her, a smile that
reminded her of a father looking down at his little girl.
 
She knew he could not be more than
twenty-five, but there was something impossibly wise and mature in his
eyes.
 
“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, ruffling
her hair.
 
“I’m Luke.”

“Hi,” she replied, gawking at him.

“You’re just time for dinner,” he said and
walked over to the rounded end of the island.
 
He draped his jacket on the back of the chair and took a seat beside
Angelle.
 
Luke was big, bulky, and at
least three inches taller than Angelle and Eric.
 
His face was warm looking, with thoughtful
hazel eyes and short, spiky brown hair.
 
He wore a dark gray-collared shirt with the top few buttons undone,
showing the top of his hard muscle-lined chest, and a light blue tie loosened
at the neck.

“You can sit,” he said, in a deep and
booming voice, with a touch of an accent that Amelia just couldn’t seem to
place.
 
It was a watery mix with a hint
of Irish and something else, Italian maybe.
 
“I promise we don’t bite.”
 
He
chuckled, a velvety sound, and gestured to the empty chair beside Eric.

Mabel started setting steaming plates of
pasta and garlic bread in front of each of them.
 
Once they each had a heaping plate, she
returned to the sink and worked silently on the dishes.
 
Amelia had been wondering if she would join
them, but she guessed not.
 
Maybe she
eats afterwards?
 
Not sure how this whole
housekeeper thing worked, she filed the question at the back of her mind for
later.

“I see you found the clothes I left.
 
I hope everything fit okay,” Angelle said.

“They’re wonderful, thank you,” Amelia
said, feeling a blush creep up the back of her neck.
 
She didn’t usually embarrass this easily and
she wondered what that was about.
 
It surely
wasn’t the first time someone had given her clothes.
 
Since she had arrived though, she had been
blushing at every little thing.
 
Maybe it
was because they were all just so kind and, well, who was she trying to kid,
really, really good looking.

Eric dug in, slurping up the creamy
noodles.
 
Sitting close, she was
tantalized by the scent of his musky cologne.
 
Amelia had never spent much time noticing boys before.
 
They had always been just an unneeded
distraction from what was really important, an education.
 
But somehow he had gotten under her skin and
was quickly turning her mind to mush.

“So, Angelle tells me that you are quite a
math wiz,” Luke said, and then took a bite of the crunchy garlic bread.

Amelia gave her head a little shake,
realizing that he was talking to her.
 
“Um, I get by I guess,” Amelia stuttered, twirling some pasta onto her
fork.

“Don’t be so modest, Amelia,” Angelle said,
shooting a dazzling smile across the table.
 
“She designed an accounting program last year for her grade twelve
credit,” she said to Luke.
 
“You two
should sit down some time.
 
She could
probably teach you a few things.”

Luke chuckled and gave a thoughtful look to
Amelia.
 
“Yes, I think that would be a
great idea if you’re willing?”

“I guess I could.”
 
Amelia took a small bite of the pasta she had
finally managed to wrap around her fork.
 
The flavor of creamy, cheesy sauce exploded in
her mouth and she realized that she was starving and shoveled more in.
 
“This is so good,” Amelia said between bites.

The food was so good that Amelia managed to
forget Eric and the others while she continued to stuff herself.
 
It had been ages since she had an actual
home-cooked meal and the flavors were magnificent.
 
No doubt, Mabel had made everything from
scratch.
 
You just couldn’t make
something that great from a can.

Amelia was so distracted by the food that
when Eric reached over and yanked the top of her turtleneck down, she didn’t
pull away.
 
“Why did you bother getting a
tattoo if you’re just gonna cover it up?” he asked.

“It’s not a tattoo,” Amelia snapped, her
sense coming back to her.
 
She pulled away,
fixing her top to cover her birthmark and placed a secure hand over it.
 
“It’s a birthmark and I cover it up because I
hate talking about it.”
 
Eric snickered,
trying to hold in his laughter and Amelia shot him a dirty look.
 
“What’s so funny?” she asked, her voice
coming out more annoyed then she had meant it to sound.

“Sorry,” Eric said, breaking out in
laughter.
 
“It’s just that you were born
with the alchemy symbol for soul and you think it’s just some birthmark?
 
Damn girl, I thought you were supposed to be
like a genius or something.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a genius but I’m smart
enough to know it’s just a birthmark.”
 
Soul
, Amelia thought.
 
It
means soul?
 
She had never really
thought about it meaning something before.
 
She always assumed that it was just some weird
birthmark, a figure eight with a solid line passing behind the bottom
circle.
 
She pushed the thought back,
deciding she would have to look it up later.
 
“Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course sweetie,” Angelle chirped,
giving Eric a disapproving glare that he promptly ignored.

“You know, it’s the same mark from this
book I read,” Eric continued.
 
“Luke,
what was that book?
 
Something
about dreams, right?”

“I think it was,” Luke said
thoughtfully.
 
“And
about soulmates.”

The humor left Eric’s face, replaced with a
pensive look, the same one Luke was giving her, and Amelia thought it just
looked wrong on him.
 
“Are you having any
weird dreams?
 
Like reoccurring dreams of
the same person?”

Amelia froze for just a second, feeling a
cold sweat break out on her forehead.
 
He
couldn’t know, could he?
 
She took a bite
to give herself time to think of what, or how, to answer that.
 
Well,
actually, yes, I do dream of the same person almost every night.
 
You
see, after my parents were murdered, I went a bit nuts and I made up this dream
guy to be my friend because dealing with real people just kinda sucked.
 
His name is Mitchell and well, after five
years of these dreams I kinda fell hopelessly in love with him.
 
But it has nothing to do with a book or
soulmates.
 
I’m just a crazy freak.

Yeah, that would be taken well.
 
They would laugh and throw her out or worse,
put her in a straightjacket and lock her in a padded room somewhere.
 
She swallowed a quick gulp of pop to stall a
bit longer and then instead of telling them the crazy truth, Amelia said dryly,
“No I haven’t been having any dreams.”
 
She did her best dramatic eye roll.
 
“At least not ones that I remember and please tell me you don’t believe
all that crap about
soulmates
because, seriously, no
such thing.
 
They were just made up as a
marketing scheme for Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re a really bad liar, you know,” Luke
said in a light voice, but his face looked tense with a forced smile.
 
“I don’t remember much of the story but the
book really is interesting.
 
Maybe you
should give it a read.”

Wow.
 
Am I really that bad at lying?
Amelia wondered, speechless.

“Seriously, Millie,” Eric said.
 
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange
that your birthmark actually means something?”

“That’s enough, Eric.
 
Stop scaring the poor girl,” Angelle said, her
voice dripping with syrup.
 
“And Luke, I
expected this from Eric but you should know better.
 
We will chat about this later.”

“I was just saying she should read it,”
Luke said.
 
“It’s all very interesting
and I am surprised you have never looked up the symbol, Amelia.”

Angelle’s
smile brightened to a blinding level and when she spoke the sugar
gushed from her voice.
 
“I said that’s
enough.”
 
She focused her gaze on both
boys and Amelia watched in amazement as they both visibly shuddered under her
stare.
 
Weird
, Amelia thought, watching the three with curiosity.
 
They held the stare, unblinking, and it was
obvious that some silent conversation was taking place that she was not privy
to.
 
After a moment, Eric and Luke both
muttered an apology to Angelle and Eric reached for the ketchup and slathered
his food in it.

“That’s so gross,” Luke said,
disgusted.
 
“You’re ruining it.”

“Ketchup makes everything good,” Eric
laughed.
 
“You’re missing out.”

They finished up the pasta and Mabel served
a home baked apple pie for dessert.
 
The
sweet crumble, warm apples and cinnamon were like a piece of heaven melting in
her mouth.
 
Amelia swallowed it down in
three large bites.

When they all finished, Mabel promptly cleared
the plates and left the kitchen without a word.
 
Amelia thought for sure she would never be able to get used to
this.
 
Having someone wait on her just
seemed so wrong.

She felt pleasantly full and
exhausted.
 
The bus
ride, the house, her new roommates.
 
It overwhelmed her in a delirious whirl of contentment and
uncertainty.
 
An involuntary yawn escaped
and Amelia brought her hand to her mouth, suddenly afraid that they would think
she was being rude.
 
Her eyes felt heavy
and it was getting hard to keep them open.

Luke reached under the table and pulled out
two shiny wrapped gifts, setting them on the table.
 
“We’re glad you’re finally here, kiddo,” he
said with a warm smile.
 
He pushed the
glittering presents towards her.
 
“These
are for you.”

Amelia opened then closed her mouth, not
knowing what to say.
 
She wanted to
cry.
 
She wanted to laugh.
 
She wanted to run out of the room and hide.
 
They had bought her presents?
 
Presents just for her?
 
It seemed like such a touching gesture and,
sort of, really scary.
 
It dawned on her
that maybe they felt sorry for her.
 
Why
else would they buy her things?
 
They
probably thought she was some poor little homeless girl.
 
She flushed with embarrassment.
 
“You guys didn’t have to do this,” Amelia
said in a small voice.
 
“Really.
 
You don’t
have to pretend to like me.
 
I’ve had
enough charity to last a lifetime.
 
I
don’t need yours.”