Tears dripped down her cheeks. She knew something had to be done, but what? Where should she start? Should she deal with the fact that vampires are real? Or that soulmates exist? Or that her soulmate is a vampire? Or what about the fact that it is all real and for some reason he bit her and now, because of that bite, they are linked together and she will never be able to do anything again without him knowing? There was no logical way to look at it. No mathematical equation to solve the problems. It was magic. She struggled with that hard, solitary rationalization.
“Wanna talk about it?” Angelle asked. She was rinsing the blood splatters from the sink that Eric had left behind.
“Yes,” Amelia smiled weakly. “But I think I need to talk to him.” Mitchell. He was the only one that could help her now. She knew that. Maybe they could come to some kind of arrangement. She doubted it but she knew she had to try because she couldn’t live like this.
“I’ll go with you,” she said, and Amelia was grateful to have the support.
As they walked in silence to Amelia’s room, Amelia tried to figure out what to say to him. Yes, I love you but I hate you for making me feel this way just didn’t sound right, because, well, she really didn’t want to love him and from tip to toe she loathed herself—not him—for doing it. She wished there was some kind of switch she could just turn off.
Amelia braced herself when they got to her bedroom door. Coaching herself, giving a mental pep talk, not to act like a fool, not to run to him. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t worthy of her love. That was the brain wave that messed up everything. She hadn’t noticed, but Mitchell had been eavesdropping, and he was ready for her the second she walked into the room.
Angelle went first, taking a seat on Amelia’s bed beside Luke, and Amelia trailed along. The talking quickly exploded into a full-blown fight that dragged on for hours. They clashed on everything. It started out about important things, like why he took so long to find her, and why he had bitten her. As their anger increased, it fueled the burning hatred Amelia felt. They argued about what he had done to Eric, about how he had no right to make decisions for her and the hostility continued to build. He told her that she hadn’t actually won a scholarship. He was paying for her education, and the fake scholarship was just part of his master plan to get her to Willowberg.
When they dealt with the important things, they kept right on fighting. He picked on what she was wearing; telling her jogging suits didn’t look good on anyone. She told him his hair looked stupid (it didn’t—Amelia loved his silky, light brown hair.) They even battled about the color of the sky—which now that she thought about it—they both had agreed it was blue but disputed it anyways.
Angelle intervened when Mitchell had revealed, in a very heated way, why there was a curfew. As it turned out, the curfew was only for humans because the vampires, who filled the entire street, used the gated complex as a hunting ground. They brought in humans at night, set them loose, and hunted. Not all of them did, Luke had said, not the ones she lived with, but some still enjoyed the hunt.
“I’ve heard enough,” Amelia said, cutting off Luke’s attempt to justify the animalistic behavior. Her head felt like it would explode from information overload. She needed to be alone. She felt rotten and needed to think. The dried sweat from her run and the morning’s madness had really taken its toll; she craved solitude, and a nice hot bath. “Please,” Amelia started, and when tears stung her eyes, she stopped and scrubbed at them. “I need to be alone. Please… all of you just go away.”
Amelia had expected Mitchell to fight her on it, refuse to leave but when he didn’t, she supposed that he must have been just as beat from all the fighting. The three of them left her without another word.
When the door shut, she flopped down onto her bed, buried her face into her pillow and screamed out all her frustration. It felt unexpectedly good, and Amelia did it again and again and again until her throat was raw. Talking to Mitchell really hadn’t gone how she had hoped and now, she was left with even more questions…she was even more afraid.
Amelia rolled onto her back and stared vacantly at the ceiling. Her brain was fried. Since nothing was making any sense, she decided that soaking in the tub was the best thing. Clear her mind and start again fresh.
She slugged her way across the room and caught sight of her phone blinking on the table. She detoured to see what she had missed.
There was a text message from Erin. It had just come in and she realized she must have missed the tone while screaming into the pillow.
Talked to Ty. U OK?
Amelia wanted to say that no, she really wasn’t okay but she didn’t want to explain that so she answered: Yup. Fine.
Before she could set the phone down it chirped again: Need to C U alone. Can we meet?
Yeah right, Amelia thought. Like she would be able to leave the house. She replied: Not a good time. Family issues.
Amelia waited to see if Erin would respond and a moment later, another message flashed up: Tomoro? Pick u up at 9 for class.
Amelia quickly replied: Ok. C U in am.
Mitchell couldn’t object to that, right? She had to go to school so what did it matter if one of her friends picked her up? She called Joe at the gate and let him know, then she poured a scorching hot bath, letting the heat and steam soothe away her worries, if only for a moment…
The peace didn’t last long enough. By 4:00, Amelia was starving. She thought about ignoring it but her stomach felt like it was eating itself so she headed for the kitchen. She regretted it as soon as she got there. Mitchell was standing on the terrace with his arms around another girl, kissing her—on the cheek—but that didn’t matter, he was still kissing her.
White-hot fury overtook Amelia, every muscle in her body went rigid and she gritted her teeth. Her fists were clasped so tightly that her fingernails cut into her palms but she couldn’t seem to loosen them. What the hell did he think he was doing? A voice in her head hollered. And who the hell was the tramp he was all over? Mitchell knew she was there. He knew she was fuming and he was enjoying it. Amelia could hear the silent rumblings of his chuckle vibrating through her mind and it was infuriating.
The girl, whoever she was, noticed Amelia glaring and pushed him away. She came over to Amelia. “I’m Lola.” What a tramp, Amelia huffed silently. She was shorter than Amelia was, maybe by an inch, and she had the same perfect figure and flawless skin that all the vampires seemed to have. Her pixie cut blonde hair had a little fringe at the front and it looked great with her cute oval face. She was dressed stylishly—not like Angelle, more toned down—in a basic black knee length, pencil skirt, a black fitted long sleeved t-shirt and a colorful rainbow-striped scarf arranged around her neck.
Lola must have spotted Amelia’s fury—she was sure it was impossible to miss—she tilted her neck to give Amelia a full view of her mark. It was the same marking she had, the alchemy symbol for soul, but the name Luke Price was scrawled along the bottom. “You don’t need to be threatened,” she said, letting Amelia take a good long look before smiling back at her. “I belong to Luke.”
Surprisingly, that didn’t help and Amelia was disgusted with the jealousy—green-eyed and nasty—that was pulsing through her. She didn’t want Mitch. She didn’t want anything to do with him but she also knew she didn’t want anyone else to have him.
Luke chuckled. “Maybe she’ll come around sooner than we thought.” He gave Mitchell a congratulatory whack on the back.
Amelia bristled, ashamed and cheesed off with her reaction. “Don’t hold your breath,” she nearly yelled. Luke and Mitchell doubled up. She gave Lola another glare and said, “Welcome home,” then went to the fridge, swung it open and gaped. It had been emptied of food except for a single shelf; the rest was heaped up with bags of blood labeled with the Willowberg Blood Bank logo.
“Get used to it,” Mitchell said coolly. “We drink blood and I don’t see the point in hiding it from you anymore.”
“Whatever. Doesn’t bother me.” Amelia knew that was a worthless statement. He knew it was bothering her. It was revolting. Blood in the fridge? Did they have to flaunt it around her? Amelia took out a box of strawberries and went to the sink to rinse them.
“Why don’t you guys take my things upstairs,” Lola said. “I’d like to get to know her.”
Wow. That was the last thing Amelia wanted. To get to know the tramp that was all over Mitchell. Damn this crazy jealousy, she thought. She didn’t like it, not one bit. “Maybe some other time,” Amelia said, dumping the clean berries into a bowl. “Kinda busy right now.”
Amelia knew Mitchell was pissed off at her before he snapped. Maybe there is something good about the bond, she thought, laughing silently to herself.
“Amelia,” Mitchell growled.
Amelia put on her best innocent little girl smile, glad she had put on clean jeans and a low cut white tank. She glanced demurely at him, batting her eyes. “What? I have a paper to write.”
“That’s okay,” Lola said, cutting off Mitchell before he could get a word in. “I’m sure we’ll have tons of time later. Come on, Luke.” She smiled sweetly at Amelia, which Amelia thought looked unnatural and fake. Then Lola turned. Her knee high leather boots clicking as she floated across the marbled floor.
Luke looked torn. He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and said, “Sorry but someone needs to stay with them.”
Lola stopped, and spun around. Her brown eyes flared. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m sure he can handle her.”
“That’s the problem.” Luke shuffled from one foot to the other, looking anywhere but at Lola. “He’s not handling her very nicely right now and she’s…” he glanced at Amelia apologetically, “not making it easy.”
It was at that moment that Amelia knew that she had just made her first enemy. The look Lola shot her made her quiver right down to the bones. The trembles rushed up her spine and prickled through her fingers all the way to her toes. The stare felt like it would never end. When it did, Lola left, leaving Luke to stare after her like a lovesick puppy.