The Soul's Mark: FOUND (32 page)

“You’ll see.
 
Just promise me you won’t do anything
rash.
 
She’s not thinking clearly and you
can’t trust her.
 
She’s not the Erin you
knew.”

As if he could feel how cold and scared she
was, Mitchell sent a warm, bubbly sensation of strength through the link,
letting her feed from his power, and then he turned from her and padded his way
towards Erin.

Amelia reluctantly followed, weaving
through the hallways.
 
It seemed as if
every few steps they took they ended up at a fork, small corridors leading off
every which way.
 
A few times, Amelia
could have sworn they had already passed by a cell or a doorway, and she was
glad she was not alone.
 
It was like
walking through an otherworldly web of torture, and with every turn, she fought
the urge to run back the way she had come.
 
She fought her imagination, attempting to reassure herself the whole way
that this place was never used.
 
But no
matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the idea of feeble humans running
in the maze of hallways as their ruthless predators stalked them, playing with
them like helpless little mice.

“Millie, hurry up,” Erin howled, breaking
through Amelia’s overactive imagination.
 
“Don’t listen to that dumbass boy toy of yours.
 
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
 
I’m fine.
 
Just get me out of here.”

Mitchell veered to the right, down another
dark and moldy smelling passageway before stopping abruptly. Amelia collided
into his back and she stumbled.
 
Before
she could hit the ground, he steadied her with an unearthly speed and
grace.
 

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to
the dim, flickering light but when they did, a feeling of sickness overcame
her.
 
“My God, Erin,” she cried and
rushed forwards.
 
Erin was tied up
helplessly in a tiny cell with barely enough room for her small body to fit
into.
 
Two chains hung from the ceiling
cuffed to her wrists and her ankles were chained to the stone floor.
 
Amelia shook the metal bars but they didn’t
budge.
 
She spun around, hands on her
hips, and glared at Mitchell.
 
“Mitch,
open this cell.”

“I’m not opening it until she can control
herself,” Mitchell said, the all too recognizable cold expression on his
face.
 
The very expression he used with
her any time he was about to fight her on something.
 

Amelia bristled, ready for the battle.
 
She was just about to throw a tantrum when
Erin piped up, “He’s a lunatic, Millie.
 
Please get me out.
 
I’m so
hungry,” she said, the last word with a drawn out hiss that sent a chill racing
down Amelia’s spine.

“Can you help her, love?” Mitchell asked
softly.
 
“Can you do the spell you did
with us?”

Amelia glanced back at Erin and
deflated.
 
“I don’t know if that will
help.
 
What I did…
 
I mean…” she stuttered.
 
“Well, it only blocked your connection.
 
I can still feel everything.
 
For me, it’s almost like nothing has
changed.
 
I don’t know how to severe the
bond completely.”

“What about just reversing it?
 
Can you block her from seeing him?”

Amelia thought about that for a minute, but
the cold, hard reality hit her.
 
“I don’t
think that’s a good idea,” she whispered, reluctant to say it at all.
 
“If I do that then we have no way of knowing
where Tristan is or if he’s planning to come back.
 
Right now, we have an advantage.
 
If the link stays then we’ll know every move
he makes.”

Amelia stared at Erin, who was now growling
and yanking on the chains.
 
“If I can
just take away the pull we can let her go.
 
I guess I need to mask her thoughts, too.
 
I wonder,” she paused, scratching at her
head.
 
“What if I can make it look like
she’s searching for him.
 
Maybe that will
be enough to trick him into thinking she’s coming.”

Her mind was swirling as the ideas tumbled
forth faster than she could process them.
 
She took a few calming breaths and tried to find a center.
 
Suddenly, as if the knowledge had always been
a part of her, what she had to do became clear.

Amelia took Mitchell’s hand, closed her
eyes and focused on the memory of the power—hot tea and honey.
 
The sweet, steamy power sputtered, shining
unsteadily.
 
It smoldered, then flashed
up again, and blazed.
 
It swirled around
her and she let it pull on Mitchell’s strength to feed the firestorm burning
deep within.

Mitchell tried to pull his hands away but
Amelia held tight using her magic to keep him still.
 
“What are you doing?” he asked unsteadily.

“I need your power, Mitch,” Amelia gasped
and fixed her pleading gaze on him.
 
“I
need your help.”

For a quick second, Amelia thought he was
going to keep fighting her, but then he nodded.
 
“I’m going to pull on your persuasion.
 
I need you to focus and push it to me,” she said.

Amelia drew from Mitchell, feeling his
persuasion join with her, strengthening the blazing power that coursed through
them both.
 
She drew in a breath and
chanted, “
Mold a twin and link the bond
,”
over and over.
 
Erin’s snarls grew more
savage and the chains rattled as she tried to break free.
  

Mitchell grunted and staggered.
 
“You’re taking too much.”
 
His voice was barely audible and his
complexion was graying fast.
 

“Help me,” Amelia wheezed and panted.
 
“Don’t fight it.”

Amelia could feel the life draining from
him and his struggles to break free became less and less.
 
She heaved on his powers, merging them with
hers and continued the chant.
 

Mitchell struggled for breath and staggered
again.
 
Erin’s sickening laughed filled
her ears.
 
“It’s no use, Millie.
 
You aren’t strong enough,” she hissed.

Amelia continued to chant, “
Mold a twin and link the bond
.”
 
Her knees began to shake and she struggled to
stay upright.
 
She kept her eyes fixed on
Mitchell and suddenly, as if he had a second wind, Mitchell straightened up and
began to chant with her.

“
Mold
a twin and link the bond,”
they chanted, their voices strengthening with
each intonation.

The jingling of the chains and Erin’s
snarls were deafening but they continued to chant in repetition.
  
Amelia focused all her energy and forced
herself to speak clearly, enunciating every syllable.
 
Mitchell squeezed her hands tighter.
 
Erin screamed out, cursing and snarling, the
sound echoing around the cold stone walls.
 
A metallic sound of chains snapping rang out and another bloodcurdling
scream penetrated Amelia’s ears.
 
She
broke the hold on Mitchell and rushed forward just as Erin crumpled to the
ground, whimpering.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Lola said,
in a slightly smug and disbelieving tone.
 
Mitchell gave her a disapproving glare and she snuggled in closer to
Luke, as if she was trying to hide in his arms.
 
Her face was marked with a mix of amazement and fear and she kept a
close eye on Amelia.

The whole gang—new members, Tyler and Erin
included—had gathered in the kitchen, which seemed to be the unspoken meeting
place to hear about the spell Amelia had used on Erin.

“I don’t get it,” Eric said, scratching at
his head.
 
“Are you saying there’s
another Erin running around somewhere?”

Angelle groaned and shot him a look that
clearly said
you’re such a moron
.
 
“She created the illusion of another
Erin.”
 

“So there aren’t two of them?” Eric asked,
perplexed and glanced around the table, as if he was hoping to find someone
else who shared his confusion.

Amelia laughed a pleasant, good-feeling
laugh.
 
It seemed as if every time she
had laughed lately it was out of nervousness, but this laugh was genuine.
 
“Okay, let me try this again,” Amelia said.
 
She had told Eric five times now and he still
wasn’t getting it.
 
“I’ll try to keep it
simple.
 
I used Mitchell’s mind control,
um, talents and mixed it with my witchiness.
 
Using both our strengths, I was able to make an imaginary Erin.
 
I planted fake thoughts in the imaginary
Erin.
 
Then, so Tristan will still think
he has a bond with the real one, I cut the cord,” Amelia gestured using
scissors to snip the cable, “that connected them and attached it to the
imaginary Erin.
 
I left the mind-reading
part intact for Erin so she can still hear his thoughts, but now, Tristan will only
hear and feel the fake ones.”

Eric smacked his hands onto the table.
 
“I knew it.
 
There
are
two Erin’s!”
 
Then he hopped up from his chair and went
over to examine the mouth-watering concoction Mabel was whipping up.

After everyone had a good chuckle at Eric,
Mitchell said, beaming, “You guys should have seen her.
 
She was amazing.”

Erin huffed.
 
“Amazing?
 
Really not that amazing.
 
It was torture.
 
I feel like she cut me in half.”

“I
kinda
did.”
 
Amelia blushed and then cursed
under her breath.
 
Really, after all the
near death experiences she had had since moving to Willowberg, she was still
blushing?
 
She glanced at Mitchell.
 
He was looking at her with so much love that
it made the blush turn beet red.

“Dude.
 
What the hell happened to
you?”
 
Eric interrupted her moment.
 
“Weren’t you all death to Mitch two days
ago?”

“Did you just call me ‘dude’?”
 
Amelia laughed.
 
She couldn’t help but marvel at how much
everything had changed.
 
Eric was leaning
against the counter in the exact same place, giving her the exact same
breathtaking smile he had on the first day she had arrived and it was barely
fazing her now.
 
He was still hot—Amelia
had to admit it—but next to Mitchell, well, Eric just did not compare.

“Eric.” Mabel smacked him on the head with
a wooden spoon.
 
The room erupted in
laughter and she had to shout to be heard. “Get off my counter and sit
down.”
 
She then waited for the laughter
to die down before asking, “Who wants food?”
 
Amelia, Angelle, Eric and Tyler promptly raised their hands.

“Bacon and eggs,” Angelle chirped her
request.

“I make killer scrambled eggs,” Eric
said.
 
Unimpressed, Mabel gave him
another whack with the spoon.
 
“What?” he
asked, attempting to look
innocent.

“You’re not helping, so get over there and
plant your butt on a chair,” Mabel raised the spoon as if she was going to
smack him again.
 
Eric chuckled, put up
his hands in surrender, and slid into a chair.

Mitchell draped his arm around Amelia’s
shoulder and she settled back in her chair.
 
Blissful warmth spread through her as she looked around at all her
friends chatting easily and she let herself enjoy the feeling for a moment.

Yesterday she wouldn’t have believed it,
but it looked like everything was working out.
 
Even Tyler looked happy—maybe a bit too happy—Amelia noticed.
 
She watched as Tyler and Angelle stole
fleeting glances at each other.

Amelia wanted to probe at them, see if a
new romance was in the air—she was pretty sure there was—but in the end, she
bit her tongue on the questions and asked,
 
“How did Tristan get away?”

“That was my fault,” Tyler said
bashfully.
 
“I tried to stake him when he
was choking you and I kinda missed his heart.”
 
He grinned.
 
“Seriously, not as
easy as the movies make it
look
.
 
He dropped you and took off.”

Even Amelia couldn’t help but laugh with
the rest of them.
 
Tyler looked so
bewildered.
 
It was as if he hadn’t
imagined that his heroic attempt to save her wouldn’t work.
 
She laughed until her sides hurt and tears
came to her eyes.
 
When she finally
caught her breath she asked, “What about Adam?”

Her question silenced the laughter, and
Luke’s thoughtful hazel eyes focused on her.
 
“We really don’t
know,
kiddo.
 
He snuck out when we were trying to keep
Tristan from Tyler after the little…” he picked up a fork and mimicked a staking
motion over his heart, “
incident
.”
 
Then he gave Erin a hard stare.
 
“I don’t think you should go anywhere by
yourself for now, given the whole Kandi thing.”

The room went eerily silent and Amelia
couldn’t help but think they were giving Kandi a moment of silence.
 
She hadn’t been a fan of Kandi’s but she let
herself wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was Tristan’s company that made her
such a monster.
 
With that, she said a
silent prayer for her soul to find Adam.

“Hey, Millie,” Tyler said, breaking the silence.
 
“Can you use your witch skills to zap me a
passing grade?
 
‘Cause with all this crap
I missed a few papers and a test.”

Amelia groaned.
 
The last thing she wanted to think about was
school.
 
Never in her life had she missed
so many classes.
 
“I don’t even want to
think about how behind I am.”

The frying bacon smelled wonderful.
 
Usually Amelia hated the greasy smell, but
today it made her mouth water in anticipation.
 
The conversation spiraled on, chatting easily as if nothing had happened
and Amelia was ecstatic at how easily Erin and Tyler blended with her
family.
 
Mabel served breakfast and, to
Amelia’s surprise, she joined them.

Mabel was just about to work on the mess
when she stopped, plates balancing in her hands.
 
She looked Amelia over, head to toe and
raised a questioning eyebrow.
 
“You seem
different.
 
What happened to you?”

Different,
Amelia thought.
 
Wow, that is an understatement.
 
She busied herself, sweeping crumbs off the
table and dusting them onto her plate while she tried to think of how to answer
that.
 
Of course, she seemed
different.
 
Who wouldn’t after all
this?
 
A bunch of excuses popped to her
mind but in the end, she settled on telling the truth.
 
“I saw my Mom and my past.”
 

Amelia locked eyes with Mitchell and she
was sure she heard a few gasps from around the table, but she ignored
them.
 
A replay of her burning flashed
through both their minds. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt his shame.
 
Again, she wished she could fix the link,
reassure him somehow, but for the life of her, she just didn’t know how.

“What past?” Tyler asked and Amelia forced
her eyes away from Mitchell.

She was about to explain when Angelle came
to her rescue.
 
“I’ll fill you in some
other time,” she said, and Amelia assumed Mitchell must have confided in her.

Amelia mouthed a
thank you
and then she got up from the table.
 
She didn’t want them all to see her cry again
and she knew the tears weren’t far off.
 
“I need a shower,” she said and pushed in her chair.
 
Everyone, even Lola, looked taken aback at
her abrupt departure but she didn’t really care.
 
She smiled—what she hoped was a convincing
happy smile—at Mitchell.
 
“I won’t be
long.”
 
He smiled back, sad and distant
but nodded so she turned and headed for her room.

“Amelia,” Lola said, just before she left
the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder.
 
“It doesn’t completely suck that you’re not dead.”

Unsure of what to say, Amelia just nodded,
and left the room.

****

Amelia let the steamy water cascade over
her as she cried.
 
She cried for her
parents, she cried for Erin, she cried over her mistakes with Mitchell, she
even cried for Kandi’s death.
 
She cried
for what felt like hours before the tears stopped falling.

Had she made the right choice?
 
She really wasn’t sure and she wished—truly
wished—that she could have had both, her parents and Mitchell.

Amelia pushed that idea out of her head,
swallowed hard and turned off the shower.
 
She dried off, wrapped the fluffy bath towel around her and wiped down
the steam-covered mirror.
 
She took a good
hard look at herself, noticing for the first time the shimmering glow that
surrounded her.
 
For a second she didn’t
know what it was but then it hit her: it was her—her magic—and she smiled.

She splashed some cold water on her face,
brushed her hair and tied it up, and brushed her teeth.
 
After spending way too much time on her
make-up, she ventured out into her room to get dressed.

As she was digging through her closet to
find the perfect outfit, she couldn’t help but wonder why she still felt so
miserable.
 
Everything had worked
out.
 
Her friends were fine, she was
alive.
 
So why did she still want to curl
up in a little ball and hide from the world?
 
Amelia gave up on finding something to wear, threw on a housecoat and
padded her way out onto the terrace for fresh air, hoping it would help clear
her mind.

The night was crisp and refreshing, and she
inhaled two deep, invigorating breaths.
 
Looking up at the velvety night sky, the stars sparkling like jewels,
she searched for Cassiopeia, her favorite constellation.
 
If only she could be like the great queen of
the past, Amelia was sure Cassiopeia would have known what to do.

That’s when she heard the soft splash of
water.
 
She glanced over at the pool and
saw Mitchell leaping out and then gracefully diving back into the water.

Amelia laughed hollowly, suddenly
understanding why she still felt so empty.
 
Mitchell.
 
Everything seemed to be
boiling down to Mitchell and the broken bond.
 
Last week she would never have believed it, but now she missed him.
Missed the bond that she had fought so hard against.

She racked her brain, wondering why the
bond was still broken.
 
She had accepted
him.
 
She loved him.
 
Then it dawned on her and just as Madame
Crystal and her mother had said, “Look inside yourself and you will know how to
bring him back.”

Amelia rushed back into her room.
 
She picked out a pink and blue striped bikini
and squirmed her way into it.
 
Then she
rushed outside.
 
The cold night air
prickled her skin into goose pimples and she snuck into the pear-shaped dome
that covered the pool.

As Mitchell swam lazy laps, Amelia took a
moment to admire him.
 
His muscular form
took on a silver tone in the glistening moonlight and her breath caught in her
throat.
 
Her heart started pumping,
erratic little beats.
 
It fluttered
around wildly, jumping into her throat.