Angelle was right. He had never imagined the pull would be this strong. It was as if someone was grabbing hold of him and trying to drag him towards her. A constant yanking that at times, threw him off balance. If it was this strong now, this confusing, what would happen after he bit her and solidified the bond? Would he have any control left? No, he told himself firmly. He wouldn’t do it. No matter what, he wouldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t take away her choices. He wouldn’t cause the pain.
He shook himself and took a deep breath. If Luke could do it, he knew he could. He was older, stronger, more experienced. He had to keep it together for her sake, if not for his own sanity. But it was taking everything in him to stay away from her.
Angelle sat back down, crossing her legs. She could sense his inner-conflict and her eyes relaxed. “Mitch, there’s something else,” she said softly. “She different. I don’t know what it is but there’s something about her. We all feel it. It’s as if some sort of power is pulsating from her. And when she gets mad...”
“Why the hell was she mad?” Mitchell snapped, cutting her off and trying to ignore the wistful look settling in her eyes. “She’s only been there a few hours.” The rage built up inside him, burning hot. Couldn’t they just take one simple order? All he had asked was to make Amelia comfortable. Let her get to know them.
“Eric talked about the mark.” She held up her hands, gesturing for him to stay put and he clenched his jaw. “Before you freak, he only mentioned soulmates and dreams. She doesn’t know what we are yet and she thinks it’s just a birthmark.” Angelle palled and averted her eyes to the floor. “There’s some kind of connection between her and Eric,” she murmured. “I thought it was just her but at dinner I saw it in him, too. He’s attracted to her. Maybe it’s the power that’s pouring off her. It’s almost like a drug.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mitchell said, glad his voice didn’t waver. It was better if they didn’t know, at least not until he was sure. She’d be safer that way.
Angelle huffed and shook her head. “I’m telling you, you can’t wait. You need to come home. Let her know that you’re real.”
“Not yet,” he said firmly. “She’s not ready.”
“What happened last time? What are you so scared of?”
Mitchell opened his mouth to tell her. Maybe it would be better to get it out, tell someone, anyone. The memory was etched in his brain. The flames, the chanting, and the hatred that blazed in her eyes. But if he said it out loud, confirmed what she was, then...
“Stay out of it,” he growled as fiercely as he could.
Angelle popped up from her chair and tossed her arms up. “I’m just trying to help you.”
“She’s not stable enough to handle it all at once, Angelle.” Mitchell met her eyes square on, pleading. “Too much has happened and if she remembers...”
“Remembers what?” she pushed, and he cursed under his breath, knowing Angelle wouldn’t rest until she figured it out.
“Just please, trust me on this one.”
Angelle rolled her eyes. “Fine, but when it all blows up in your face just remember I told you so.” And in a flash, she was gone.
Mitchell sat down resting his head in his hands. She has power, he thought, the confirmation making him feel sick. He had hoped that for her sake he had been wrong. The bond had always only been between vampires and humans. But God only knows what a bond between a vampire and someone…someone like Amelia could unleash. An overwhelming rush of doubt suddenly passed through him. What if it was a mistake to bring her here? Ever since the curse, his race had never seen eye to eye with hers. What if being soulmates wasn’t enough?
A soft sneeze floated through the air, and a familiar scent, the sweet floral fragrance of her blood filled his nose. Amelia. She was here, but how? He hadn’t called her soul to him.
Mitchell followed the mouth-watering scent. It was intoxicating, filling his mind and body. As he moved along the hallway, the pull become more insistent and his heart hammered in his chest with anticipation.
When his eyes found her, perching on a chair, his heart stopped beating for just a moment. She was perfection. Everything from her small frame, to her unruly curls was flawless and she was his.
CHAPTER 5
When she opened her eyes, Amelia found herself in an office. The sun glittered in through the windows and gently warmed her face. She brought her hand up to her eyes to block the glare. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed what a mess the room was. Papers and files scattered everywhere, on the floor, on the table, across the desk.
Even though it was a new location, she had still expected to see Mitchell sitting at the big oak desk. But she was alone.
The smell of leather, mixed with Mitchell’s sweet, tangy scent, tickled her nose and she sneezed.
Off to one corner were two big leather chairs and a small oval table. Amelia padded her way over, deciding to sit while she waited. There was a newspaper beside the chair on the table and she was just about to pick it up when she noticed a slight movement out of the corner of her eye.
She looked up to find Mitchell standing in the doorway. Little butterflies flew happily around her stomach as she took him in. His sweet smile sent sparks and chills racing through her body.
“Hello, love,” he said, in a deep, sexy English accent. “I didn’t expect to see you so early.”
Amelia could feel herself getting lost in his soft, dreamy, sky blue eyes. Her face felt hot and her heart fluttered erratically in her chest.
His soft chuckle snapped her back to reality. “Hey Mitch,” she said, hoping she sounded cool and calm. “What’s with the suit and the office?”
Mitchell strolled across the room, loosening his gray and pink striped tie on the way and taking off his jacket. An involuntary sigh slipped from her lips as she admired his strong jaw and cheekbones.
“This is where I work,” he smirked.
“Huh…” she breathed. Work? She didn’t remember that ever coming up in the dreams before. But she decided it made sense. He was supposed to be a creation of her imagination and this was definitely the kind of office she would want her dream guy to have. Top floor, corner office. It showed he was important.
Mitchell scooped her up in his arms and sat down with her on his lap. She snuggled in closer, resting her head against his lithe chest, loving the feeling of his strong, chiseled arms around her. Mitchell tilted her chin up and their eyes met.
And then, suddenly, he kissed her.
His lips were soft at first, warm and moist and tasted sweet. He kissed her chastely for a second. But in no time, the kiss became urgent, demanding and a surge of passion ripped through her. He buried his hands in the thick of her hair, pulling her closer to him and she found herself doing the same. Her body ignited as if fireworks were exploding within her and she tried to pull him closer. She opened her mouth under his and felt his tongue brush against hers. He groaned a throaty sound that vibrated through her, shooting sparks from head to toe.
Amelia didn’t know who pulled away first but the kiss ended just as quickly as it started. She was trembling and her breath was coming in ragged bursts. When she looked at him, she thought the expression he wore looked almost… pained. And his eyes, they seemed brighter, and were there streaks of red? She blinked, sure it was just a glare, and when she opened her eyes again the glare was gone and he looked just as stunning as ever.
“I’ve missed you, love,” he whispered and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
Amelia was about to tell him that she had missed him too, but an image of Eric flashed in front of her eyes and her nagging conscious screamed: He’s not even real!
Guilt poured over her, like hot lava, but she couldn’t help but remember Eric’s soft lips on her hand and then on her cheek. It had been real. She could be with someone who was real. And that would be normal. She wanted to be normal, and this, this was far from normal.
Her chest hurt. It felt as if her heart had dropped to her toes, chipping and breaking into millions of pieces on its way. Was she ready to let Mitchell go? Could she let him go? Was Eric worth it? Amelia reluctantly slipped off his lap. She was shaking and cold.
Part of her had expected Mitchell to stop her. But he didn’t. He let Amelia leave his embrace and she could feel his eyes burning on her back as she took a few steps and sat in the chair across from him. When she was seated, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, watching her and waiting.
Amelia took a deep shaky breath. “Mitch…” she said, glad that her voice sounded strong. “We need to talk.”
Little creases indented his forehead and the corners of his mouth tilted downwards. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen today? Were your new roommates unkind to you?”
She shook her head and looked away. “They were wonderful,” she said, dreamily and then huffed a gusty sound. “Absolutely perfect.”
Mitchell laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Well, it kinda is,” she admitted and stood up. Her knees felt like Jell-O and she realized that maybe standing wasn’t such a great idea and plopped back down on the chair before she continued. “It made me realize something.”
“And what did you realize?” he questioned, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands dangling.
“Um…” she fumbled, realizing that she really didn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone that you don’t want to dream of them anymore? “That it’s time to let you go.”
Amelia could see the wheels turning as he processed what she had said. It was a bit intimidating, not that he actually meant it to be but he was the kind of person you could actually see thinking. Even so, Amelia was relieved when she saw his face light up, as if he had discovered what he was looking for. “You still think this is just a dream,” he murmured, bemused.
His statement left her confused. “Of course it’s just a dream, Mitch,” she muttered, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, twisting it around her finger. “And I met someone today. And I, um... I like him.”