“Do you know what happens to children that cross their makers?” Mitchell asked, his voice deathly calm, masking the blinding pain which radiated through his body. “They get put down.” But what Mitchell didn’t say was that he was partly glad that Tristan was back. The idea of having his child back, hunting together … It was exactly what he wanted.
Tristan laughed and then grabbed the spike that was lodged in Mitchell’s stomach, ripping it out and jamming it into his leg. Mitchell held in the scream and kept his face hard, and unreadable.
“Funny,” Tristan said. “Because that was my plan for you. To kill you slowly.” He twisted the spike in Mitchell’s leg until a cry of pain fell out. “You deserve to die. You’re weak.” Mitchell snarled, and Tristan chuckled. “It’s time you remember what you are.”
“I know what I am, you fool,” Mitchell said through the biting pain, forging his voice to sound cold and even. He looked past Tristan, trying to focus on something, anything other than the pain. That’s when he realized where they were, the old dilapidated railway station. Clearly, it was still Tristan’s favorite place to inflict pain. No one came down here anymore, and the area around it had been fenced off long ago. I should have torn it down years ago, he thought in frustration.
“The bond clouded your judgment,” Tristan countered with disgust, promptly drawing Mitchell’s attention back to him. “It made you weak. You were supposed to help me. You were supposed to teach me. But instead, you banished me for killing my soulmate.” He sneered and let the word hang in the air. “We were made to kill,” he yelled, eyes blazing and shimmering with tears at the same time. He looked lost, confused, evil, and perfectly sadistic all at once. “Now that that pesky spell is broken …” he paused, searching Mitchell’s face with contemplation, and his lips slowly twisted into a grin, “I think you’ll be more fun alive.”
Amelia’s smile flitted across Mitchell’s mind. Soulmate. The word seemed so foreign, so wrong, but yet, so real. He remembered loving her lips. They were soft, sweet, and warm. But the memory was like a movie. He saw it, watched it, but the pounding heart did not come, his skin did not tingle with the thought of her kiss. The only thing he felt was hunger. Searing hunger.
“I tasted her. Did you know that?” Tristan said with a grin.
Mitchell didn’t need to ask who; he knew. Amelia. He growled and snapped out with his teeth at Tristan’s neck. “She’s mine.” The words were snarled, and his building rage veiled the pain.
“She was delicious. I understand why you wanted to keep her as a pet.” He licked his lips and flashed his fangs. “And that aura. So full with pulsing magic. It’s intoxicating.”
She’s a pet? Mitchell thought about it. It sounded right. Like something he would do. He had always liked to have fresh, warm blood on hand. But it also felt wrong. Unreal. She’s your soulmate, his annoying conscious shouted. He had made love to her; the memory was etched in his mind, burned in his vision. He was sure that he had loved her. He had told her so over and over. And had she loved him? Yes. She did. He licked his lips. That love would make her easier to bend and break.
But the idea of him loving her seemed ridiculous. Completely and utterly ludicrous. Amelia was his. He had claimed her. But love… He loved her blood. His eyes washed crimson. He had tasted the blood, smelled it, and he needed it now.
He looked at his hand, noticing the spike protruding from it and another in his bicep pinning him to the wall. He looked back at Tristan, clenched his jaw, and counted backwards from three. He focused, masking his face in a void of emotion or thought, and with a swift yank, Mitchell pulled his arm free, and one of the railroad spikes ripped a hole in the palm of his hand.
Tristan hadn’t seen it coming. Mitchell ripped a spike from his leg, and with perfect aim, he launched it. It sank into Tristan’s neck, dead center, and he snarled. With his hand free, it only took Mitchell seconds to pull the other seven spikes from his body, and with each one he removed, Tristan found another one embedded in his skin.
Tristan collapsed, growling and shriveling in pain on the ground, and Mitchell laughed. His fangs sharpened, and he watched the hole in his hand close before looking down at his protégé. “You’ve ruined my favorite shirt,” Mitchell said. His voice was void of emotion, and to his ears, it sounded wonderful and strong and dangerous. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, flexing his fingers over each button, and his lips curled upwards.
“Sorry,” Tristan grunted through the snarls. “It had to be done. You had to remember who you were and what you are.”
Mitchell let his shirt fall to the floor, cast a quick glance at Tristan, and smiled. “You’re lucky that you’re my blood,” he said before turning to the door. “If you weren’t, I’d kill you.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find my pet,” Mitchell called over his shoulder. “I’m famished.”
CHAPTER 13
Amelia slept, but not well. It was the kind of sleep she imagined people meant when they said they slept like the dead, the body stiff and unmoving, but the soul restless. She guessed it wasn’t far from the truth. Her soul, or at least half of it, was restless, unattached, and wandering.
She woke to find Josh curled up beside her, thankfully in his own sleeping bag. He was snoring softly, and he looked … young, fragile, nothing like the monster she had thought him to be. Was that because he was sleeping and vulnerable, or was it because she now knew the truth about his existence? Amelia didn’t know, but what she did know was that she did not like the way her heart softened when she looked at him. Wasn’t it just a couple days ago that he had kidnapped her, tied her up, and used her magic to break the bond that she had never wanted broken?
Madame Crystal and Megan were huddled in a corner holding hands, their eyes closed. A glow of bright, white energy surrounded them, and their soft murmurs filled the room with a warming power.
Cole was slumped against the wall, sleeping on his feet, and Tyler still slept in front of the passageway to Luke and Eric. Amelia wiggled her way out of her sleeping bag, trying not to wake Josh, and padded over to him. As soon as she touched his bow, Cole’s eyes snapped open, and a manic look passed across his face but vanished as soon as he recognized her. “Go lay down,” she whispered.
To Amelia’s surprise, he let her take his bow, and he curled into a sleeping bag without a single protest. Once he was out, Amelia grabbed her phone from the bench, and groaned when she noticed that is was only 3:15 in the afternoon; she had only slept four hours. Before she could consider crawling back into the sleeping bag—because, well, that’s exactly what she wanted to do—she went to join the witches.
“You should have woken me,” Amelia whispered, breaking their concentration, and the current of electric magic receded.
Megan gave her a dirty look. “I tried,” she said, her voice cold as a stormy winter night. “You just kept tossing and turning and mumbling. You wouldn’t wake up.” She narrowed her eyes and sneered. “You didn’t stop until Josh lay down next to you.”
That hurt. Really hurt. It felt as if Megan had stabbed her through the heart with a jagged, dull knife and then twisted. And the look that Megan was giving her was just as bad. “Have you found him?” Amelia asked, rushing over the words hastily, which only made Megan’s stare grow colder.
“No, not yet,” Madame Crystal replied with a shake of her head, oblivious to the suffocating tension. “We’ve been trying to contact the spirits for guidance, but it seems as if they have put us on hold.”
Amelia plopped down on the ground beside them. She huffed. The way the psychic said it, it was as if she was trying to call the cable or phone company. How could they be put on hold? The idea was completely ridiculous. And she was about to say as much, but when she looked at Madame Crystal, Amelia could clearly see that she was dead serious.
“Amelia? Is that you, kiddo?” Luke’s voice boomed from down the hallway. Metal rattled and clanked. “Come on, kiddo. Let me out of here.”
?
??Have you guys fed them?” Amelia asked in an attempt to block out Luke’s voice. He may sound like Luke, but he wasn’t. Not anymore. Eric had made that clear last night.
“They’re not pets, Amelia,” Josh said sharply. Amelia couldn’t miss his twisted sneer as he got out of bed and paced towards her. “They’re monsters.”
“Of course they’re not pets,” Amelia said, forcing herself to stay calm and hide the spurt of anger that rushed through her veins at Josh’s use of the word monsters to describe her friends. “They’re my family.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Eric chimed, his voice filled with musical laughter. “Megan generously offered herself.”
All eyes turned to Megan, and she fidgeted uncomfortably under their stares. “What?” she asked sheepishly, and then she glared at Amelia. “He was hungry, and I’m not going to abandon my soulmate the way you have. He’s still in there, and it’s not as if he forgot who I am. He’s just confused.”
Tyler grabbed her, and yanked her off the floor. “Do you have a death wish? He could have killed you!”
Amelia gasped. She hadn’t noticed Tyler wake up. The stress was getting to him. It was as if a murky coating of anguish and anger had covered him from head to toe. His eyes shone with murder, and Amelia felt the blood rush from her cheeks.
“He won’t,” Megan said. She snatched her arm away from Tyler and dropped her eyes to the ground, shuffling back and forth.
“I never thought you were that stupid, Megs,” Cole said groggily. He propped himself up on his elbows.
“Meg, they’re right,” Amelia said, and she scooted closer to her cousin.
Megan scuttled back, sliding across the floor on her butt. “Oh what, now you’re siding with the enemy?” she spat, and her skin flushed red.
Amelia sighed, and angry, frustrated tears stung her eyes. “I’m not siding with anyone, but what would you have done if Eric hadn’t stopped? What if he killed you? I can’t lose you, too.”
Josh crouched in front of Amelia. He reached out, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “We’re your family,” he said with a soft passion. “And right now, we have to be worried about the ones that are on the loose. The ones that are most likely randomly killing innocent people in town right this minute.”
Amelia grabbed her cell phone and tapped on the calendar. How was it already Thursday? a voice in her head questioned. She quickly ran over the last few days in her head, praying that maybe, just maybe, her phone was off by a day or two, but of course, it wasn’t. Her stomach clenched, her ears rang, and suddenly she felt lightheaded. A cold sweat broke out over Amelia’s back and on her forehead. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “The fair.”
Velvety laughter echoed off the rough and jagged stone walls. It was a warm sound, soft and silky, but to Amelia it sounded like the manic laughter of a serial killer. The bars that held Eric and Luke rattled deafeningly loud.
Amelia’s head spun. The fair. Mitchell had decided to have it at a park on the outskirts of town. It seemed like the perfect place. It had a huge grassy field and offered tons of room for all the rides and games. But now the location made Amelia feel sick. It was just inside the town limits, but far enough away that the vendors could be there right now and no one in town would even know it.
And then another thought came to her. What if the townspeople didn’t stay inside? Over half the town was supposed be there helping to set up. They were walking into a death trap. Everyone in one place. But then, even if the townspeople followed the orders and stayed home, the vendors didn’t have a clue. They didn’t even know about vampires, let alone know that the town was full of them. Her breathing picked up, coming out heavy and hard. Could she trust Josh and Cole? Would they help? Their team had killed innocent people before. She needed a plan, an idea … anything.
Amelia was jerked from her troubled thoughts by the sudden silence. The rattling stopped, and the laughter ended. The silence became so thick and heavy and loud that it felt as if someone was screaming in her ear. Then there was a whispered grunt followed by two muted thuds one right after another. The scuffling sound of footsteps. Amelia’s heart jumped into her throat. The bars didn’t hold, her conscious shrieked. She locked wide and panicked eyes with Megan and Madame Crystal, and right away, her magic flared. The three of them moved quickly, barricading the entryway, creating a human blockade. When Amelia saw the first figure round the corner, she summoned a ball of gleaming power into the palm of her hand.
“It’s just me,” Josh said, as he stepped into the dim light and caught sight of them. Amelia hadn’t even noticed him leave the room, and with a quick glance around, it was clear that the others hadn’t either.
“What did you do?” Amelia breathed horrified. Her brain jumped to the worst possible scenario when Cole stepped beside Josh and brandished a smug grin. Amelia swiveled, raising her arm and pulling it back, ready to throw the magic like a baseball. If I just command them to keep their skin … She felt her lips curve up, and manic laughter bubbled up in her throat.
Josh blanched and raised his arms in surrender. “They’ll be fine,” he stammered, nervously, and by the way he was looking at her, with a cagey apprehension, Amelia was certain that he could see the murder that she felt bubbling up inside her. “We just, um, put them to sleep. I couldn’t think with all the noise.”
Tyler squeezed through the girls and took off down the hallway. The cell doors clanked and grinded, and seconds later, his voice bounced back to them. “They’re fine.”
Amelia hadn’t realized it, but she had been holding her breath. As soon as Tyler said they were fine, the air whooshed out of her lungs, and she pulled back the power, sucking it back into her core as if she had turned on a vacuum. Josh moved towards Amelia with small and cautious steps. But Cole didn’t think caution was necessary. He groaned loudly and pushed past him.
Megan let out a cry of rage and fury. It was a garbled sound from the back of her throat, and she rushed at Cole. She let her magic drop, and when she reached Cole, she wailed on him with frenzied strikes. Amelia’s jaw dropped, and Madame Crystal gasped. Cole just stood there, stiff as marble, and let her beat on him.
And she did.
Megan smacked and clawed and punched and kicked. And she kept going until she couldn’t lift her arms, and her legs trembled. A deep sob escaped from somewhere deep within her, and she began to shake. She wobbled on her feet as the deep gut-twisting sobs fell.
Cole watched her for a moment. He frowned, and deep crevasses formed between his eyes. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Grief struck his features. And then he did something none of them were expecting. He pulled Megan into his arms and let her cry.
“It’s going to be okay, Meg,” Amelia said, trying to sound sure and encouraging, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak and unsure. “I’ll fix this. We’ll get them back.”
Megan sniffled and pulled away from Cole, and quickly got herself together. She fixed a deadly glare on him and said, “If you touch Eric again, I’ll find a way to kill you, and if I can’t, I will make you suffer.” Then she turned to Amelia, determination etched on her face, and said, “What’s the plan?”
Amelia didn’t hesitate with her reply. “We go to the fair.”
As far as plans went, it wasn’t much of one. Amelia knew that, but it was all she had. And when everyone agreed, she figured it was worth a shot. If she was right about the vendors, then somehow, they needed to get everyone off the streets and to a safe location, and she knew she couldn’t do it alone, so she promptly pushed her worries about working with the hunters aside. At least until she figured out a way to talk to the spirits and get the vampires their souls back.
Josh and Cole ventured out of the dungeon first to make sure it was safe. As soon as they left, Amelia fired off a quick text to Officer McLean. He promptly replied, confirming her fears. The officers had been patrolling the streets, making sure no one was wandering around, and they hadn’t bothered wi
th the edge of town since there were no houses out that way. She was in the middle of a frantic reply, telling him to send a team out right away, when Cole called down the steps, “Um, Amelia, can you come up here, like now? We’ve got a little problem.”
It took everything Amelia had not to collapse and burst into a flood of tears. And Cole’s tense stance and nervous shifting at the top of the stairs did not help one single bit. How many more problems could she handle? Had this been how Mitchell felt? He always seemed to handle the disasters in stride, and she suddenly found herself wishing he was here.
But he wasn’t.
Tears prickled her eyes as the image of Tristan breaking his neck and dragging him away flooded her memory. That was when she realized that he might never be here, with her, again. For all Amelia knew, Tristan had already killed him. She knew damn well that that had been his ultimate goal.
“Millie?” Tyler said. “You want me to go and check it out?”
Amelia blinked fast, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. She tried for a smile, but by the look of concern that marred Tyler’s face, she knew her smile was not convincing. She opened her mouth to reassure him, but her voice caught in her throat so she just shook her head back and forth, and headed for the stairs.
When she reached the top, Cole tossed his head to the side, gesturing for her to follow, and then he started down the hallway. When they reached the foyer, Josh was pacing back and forth in front of the door. He was frazzled. It was impossible to miss. His hair was a disaster, sticking out every which way as if he had been running his hands through it without rest. His skin had a grayish tone, it was flickering in and out, and he was muttering to himself.
“Josh?” Amelia said, drawing his attention. She couldn’t even think of anything that could have gotten him so spooked.
Josh stepped towards the window, dragging his feet as if he was trying to stall, and then with a drawn out sigh, he parted the curtains and stepped back, giving Amelia a clear view. “It might be a little harder to just subdue the bloodsuckers,” he said.