Waking Dreams (A Soul's Mark Novella) (8 page)

Eric shook his head, trying not to grin at
how adorable she looked right then, and sighed.  He gently pushed her back,
holding her shoulders tightly, and met her eyes.  “I just know, okay?” he said,
his tone pleading with her to accept it.  “Tell me who and why.”

Megan watched him for a long moment,
considering something, Eric assumed, although he didn’t have the slightest idea
as to what.  But then she shrugged, just a small lift of her tiny shoulders and
sighed.  “I don’t know who they are.  They showed up a few weeks ago when this
thing appeared on my neck,” she said with distain.  She swiped her curls away
from her neck and pointed at the soul’s mark inked on her skin.  “They said it
will lead them to a demon.  A vampire.  But that’s impossible.  Vampires are
not real.”  She laughed awkwardly, dropping her eyes from his, and her face
flushed cherry.

“Yes, impossible.”  Eric cracked a one
sided grin and nodded enthusiastically, hoping that it didn’t look fake.  The
grin felt fake, that was for sure.  “If they’re waiting for the vampire, then
why are they chasing you?” he pressed on, desperate for any piece of information
that may help him save her.  And he would save her, even if he died trying. 
Sitting with her, in that tree, right then, felt as if it was the most natural
thing, as if it was something that they had done countless times before.  It
was as if he had always known her, and never known her all at the same time. 
And the thought of losing her before he actually met her, physically laid eyes
upon her, was something that he just could not accept.  Not now.  Not ever.

“They said if they have to kill me to draw
him out they will.”  Megan sighed then, a long and gusty sound.  “I’m losing my
mind,” she muttered under her breath, before bringing her eyes back to him. 
“You seem so real … I’ve never had dreams like this before.”  She reached up,
entwining her fingers with his, which were still on her shoulders.

“It’s quite common to dream up a hero when
your life is in danger,” Eric said, matter-of-factly, all the while wondering
if it was in fact a true statement.  He didn’t wonder for long though, because
she squeezed his hands lightly.  Her skin against his felt like silk, and it
took every bit of restraint he had not to pull her closer.

“Well, hero, how will you save me then?”
she asked teasingly.  Her lips quirked upwards, and her eyes danced.

As Eric watched her smile, so carefree and
happy in this moment, darkness began to simmer in his belly.  It was black as
pitch, swirling around him, eating away at him.  Someone was trying to take
this away from him, and right then he knew that he would kill anyone who tried. 
She was his.  He was as sure of it as he was sure that the grass was green, or
the sky, blue.  She was the air he breathed; he felt it in his bones and with
every beat of his heart.

“Where do you live?” he demanded, a bit too
harshly.

Megan gasped, and he heard her pulse
quicken.  “Eric, what’s wrong with your eyes?” she asked, in a barely audible whisper.

“Where do you live!” he yelled.  Everything
his eyes touched blazed like fire.  He tried to pull it back and tamp down the
rage that was brewing within him, but he couldn’t.  It was as if the anger had
its own life force, burning within him uncontrollably.  His muscles began to
tense, shifting under his skin, and she gripped his hands tighter for support as
she tried to slide away from him.  Looking at her, Eric couldn’t tell if she
was more afraid of him or of plummeting to the ground from the tree branch they
sat on.

“In … in the mountains,” she said, her
voice shaking with fear.  A trembling hand let go of his and pointed behind
him.  “But I’ve been hiding in a cave.”

Hiding in a cave!
a voice in his mind hissed.  That did him in, and he lost the
little bit of control he had left.  His fangs snapped down, tearing through his
gums in a blink.

Megan whimpered, and brought both of her
hands to her mouth.  Her eyes shimmered with terrified tears.  “Oh my God, you
… you … have fangs.”  Her voice was muffled, her hands blocking the sound.  She
tried to move again, sliding backwards towards the thin part of the branch and
further away from him.  It began to sag and crack, and then it snapped.

Eric reached out a hand to grab her, but he
wasn’t fast enough.  Megan screamed, a bloodcurdling scream, and her arms
flapped wildly about her. “I’m coming to find you,” he yelled, as she fell.  He
focused on sending her back, mentally pushing the image of her away, and just
before her body hit the ground, she vanished from sight.

That didn’t turn out so well,
Eric thought miserably, as he looked at the broken tree branch
lying below him.  Scaring her hadn’t really been part of the plan, and it
definitely wasn’t something she needed right now.

Eric let out a deep sigh.  In the back of
his mind, he could hear Megan calling him, begging him to come back to her, and
for a moment, he thought about doing just that.  She whispered apologies. 
Urging him to believe that she was not scared, even calling him her hero.  His
heart twisted and thumped erratically.  A flash of her neck flitted across his
vision.  Her soft ivory skin tinted pink as the blood moved underneath the odd
marking inked upon her skin.  It resembled a figure eight, with a solid line
passing through the center of the bottom loop.  The outline of it burned brightly,
illuminating and glowing in his mind, as if his brain was forcing him to see
it.  The glow beat in time with her heartbeat, pulsing out towards him.  She
called to him again.  Just his name floating around his head, and then all of a
sudden, she was gone.  Her scent, her smile, the mark … all of it faded into a
small and distant memory.

He shifted his weight on the branch,
looking behind him, and as he did, he cringed.  Maybe he should have been more
specific with his questions.  All he could see were rolling mountains
stretching out as far as his eyes would reach.

Eric sat there staring, feeling utterly
defeated, for a long moment.  He was pretty sure that even at top speed it
would take him close to a day to reach the bottom of the first mountain.  His
throat was on fire, he was starving—again—and Megan was in the mountains being
hunted because of him.  For the first time since the day he had found out what
he had become, Eric wished Mitchell had never saved him, and he had died in the
field, alone.

****

Starvation was a bitter companion.  Since
becoming a vampire, Eric had never gone this long without blood, and as the
hours passed, his mind began to play tricks on him.  With every turn he made,
he witnessed Megan’s death, each time a more brutal death than the last.

Everything he saw was washed in a permanent
crimson haze, and his fangs would not retreat no matter what he tried.  But
still he pressed forwards.

After his initial desperate defeat, Eric
had noticed something.  It was small, and he almost missed it, but it was
there.  A soft pull around his heart, like a wire tightening and humming,
pulling him blindly towards the mountains, and the closer he got, and the more
frightened Megan became, the stronger it was.

For the first night in weeks, the seemingly
endless snow had finally stopped falling.  The inky black sky was alive with a
blanket of stars, and the moon shone brightly, casting a silver glow upon the
snowy ground.

Eric was closing in on the first mountain,
the base of it finally coming into sight.  He pushed himself a bit harder,
trying to run faster.  He kept Megan’s smile at the forefront of his mind,
pushing away all other thoughts.  It was her smile that kept him moving.  The
coy curve of her lips, as if she had a secret that she was inviting him to
share—only him.  He wondered what she would think when she realized that he was
more than just a dream.  Would she welcome him?  Would she feel the same
insistent pull to be near him as he did to her?

Suddenly, the only thing Eric could smell
was blood.  The sounds of nature were drowned out by a rhythmic pulse, thumping
in a slow and even beat, pushing the steaming, mouthwatering liquid through a
waiting vein.

His throat burned, and his teeth throbbed. 
The scent overtook him, clogging his other senses, and robbing him of his restraint. 
Before he knew it, he zoned in on it, and his course shifted, veering to the
right.  Something inside him, deep within his belly growled.  He needed food. 
And he needed it now.

As he raced towards the waiting vein, his
mind tried to rationalize the persistent hunger that raged through him.  Being
a vampire had its perks.  Immortality, strength, speed, mind control; all of it
was a bit unbelievable, and delightfully thrilling.  And Eric knew that all of their
gifts centered on human blood.  Without it, they would not be able to access
the power they could wield.  And without that power, he would never find her. 
Yes,
Eric thought,
I’m hunting for Megan.
  He knew the thought was
ridiculous, and that hunting was taking him away from his mission, but he
couldn’t stop.

Eric broke through the trees, and his eyes
landed on a tiny whitewashed cottage, nestled in between two towering oaks at
the base of the mountain.  It was surrounded by a white picket fence, and it
almost looked like a dollhouse against the trees.

He stopped, backing up a few steps, and slinked
behind the tree line for cover, his eyes scanning for the humans that he could
smell.

At first, Eric almost missed them in the
dark.  But something shifted, something brown, fabric, and his eyes zoned in on
them.  Three men, all wearing dark cloaks.

Eric snarled; the sound echoed off the
mountain.  It was them.  The ones chasing her.  Adrenaline surged through him
like a live wire, and he sprung forwards without thought.  He made quick work
of the first two, on them and snapping their necks in less than a second.  Eric
spun to the third one, his face masked by the hood of the cloak, and he stalked
towards him.

The man didn’t move.  He didn’t draw the
bow that he had dangling in his hand; he didn’t even flinch when Eric pounced
on him.  Eric grabbed the itchy fabric around the man’s throat and pushed the
hood from his head.

The man locked challenging eyes with Eric,
but he did not flinch.  “More are here, and more will come,” the man said with
a throaty chuckle.  Eric snarled.  All he saw was this man chasing Megan. 
Whether he had been or not, it didn’t matter.  Eric bared his fangs and sunk
his teeth into the man’s neck.

“Eric, stop!” Megan’s voice shrieked,
rupturing in his ears.

Eric dropped the man abruptly at the sound
of Megan’s voice and spun around.  The man fell at his feet with a thud,
groaning softly on the ground.

When Eric spotted Megan, standing less than
ten feet away from him, she trembled visibly.  She was wearing a long gown of
silky white, the bottom blending into the snowy landscape between them.  Her
heart was erratic, jumping quickly, and then stopping, only to jump again.

“They said that I am marked by the devil,”
Megan said.  “That he has claimed my soul.”  She rolled her shoulders back, and
held her chin high, but she wasn’t fooling Eric.  Her fear was evident.  Her
eyes darted around wildly, her fingers fidgeted with the seams of her dress,
and the smell of it wafted around her.

Eric chuckled. 
The devil. 
It
sounded about right.  Forgetting the man on the ground, he stepped over him,
and in a blink, he stood in front of his red haired goddess.

“Are you the devil?” she asked, her voice
shaking with small tremors, although she kept her shoulders straight as she
tried to hide her fear of him.

I found her!
a voice in his head shouted. 
I found her. 
Eric cocked his head to the
side as he gazed into her sad eyes.  She watched him expectantly, waiting, and
he grinned.  “Do I look like the devil?”  His heart was pounding in his throat.

“Yes,” she said.  She gathered up the bottom
of her dress, and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom. Eric watched her
curiously, as she gathered the fabric in her hand like a washcloth and began
wiping his face.  When she was finished, the white fabric was stained scarlet. 
She gave him a small, shaky smile, dropped the cloth, and then she turned from
him and walked to the house.  She opened the little picket fence, and without a
backwards glance, she marched up the porch steps and vanished inside.

Eric went after the girl who held his soul
and heart in the palm of her hand, helpless to do anything else.  When he
entered the house, warmth washed over him.  A welcoming fire flickered in the
hearth of the one room cabin, and Megan stood beside it, staring out the window
and into the night.  She didn’t look at him when he entered the room.  “I think
they will kill me soon,” she murmured, as he closed the door.

“Hush now.” Eric closed the space between
them in four large steps and gathered her in his arms.  “Do not speak of such
things.”

Megan rested her head on his chest, hugging
him closely.  “I’m not afraid, Eric.”