The Soul's Mark: BROKEN (The Soul's Mark #3) - Page 20/37

At the house, Josh was still in a snit. He drove around back, parking in the carport beside Eric’s Corvette, and he was out of the car, slamming the door before Amelia had even managed to open hers. Without even a backwards glance, he stormed back out to the driveway where the hunters were pulling in.

Cole popped the handle, swinging the door open, and Amelia wiggled off of his lap. She started towards Josh, ready to rip him a new one. Fuming didn’t even begin to touch the rage she was feeling at that very moment, as she watched the hunters gather around him, looking at him expectantly for the next order. He was making a bunch of very vocal hand gestures as he spoke to them, and the way he was trying to take control had her seeing red.

Off to the side, another group was gathering, which Amelia assumed were the humans from the fair. What am I going to do with all these people? she thought, as she watched Tyler walk over to them. His movement was quite abrupt, as if he was forcibly giving his brain a command with each step he took to make the other foot move, and his shoulders were hunched over. Amelia was about to veer over to the newcomers, but then she glanced back at Josh and heat rushed up her neck and burned in her cheeks.

“Amelia, can I speak to you for a minute?” Cole asked from behind her.

Amelia hesitated, stopped, and then with burning reluctance, she turned. “What is it, Cole?” she asked through gritted teeth. Her shoulders ached from tension, and her hands were balled so tightly that her fingernails were biting into her palms.

“That was too easy,” he said, staring off into the trees. “They didn’t put up a fight. They didn’t chase us. It was too easy.” He scrunched his chubby cheeks, and when he looked at her, his sterling silver eyes were hard, cold, and vicious.

“They’re not monsters!” she shouted, and then quickly bit her tongue, hoping no one noticed her outburst, and stomped back to him in three short strides.

“Actually, they are,” he said matter-of-factly, meeting her glare straight on. “I know you saw his soul leave you, Amelia. I saw it, too. Mitchell’s soul isn’t attached to anything. No soul equals no humanity, which kind of makes him a monster.”

Amelia wanted to punch him. She pictured it, her fist was already clenched, and a new rush of steam settled into her cheeks. But she didn’t. Instead, she bit back a bunch of nasty words and hissed furiously, “Do you have a point?”

“The point is that it was too easy to get away.” He arched a brow, which looked completely out of place on his childish face. “Aren’t you wondering why?” He paused, waiting, but Amelia said nothing. He closed his eyes and shook his head in a way that made her feel like a moron. He leaned into her, grabbed her chin, and turned her head in Josh’s direction. “That guy right there,” he extended his finger, pointing at Josh, as if forcing her to look wasn’t enough, “you know the one you are about to rip apart? Well, he’s the only one out of all those people that gives a shit about you. And he’s the only one that would have cared if that monster had actually killed you today. So, you might want to take it easy on him.” Cole dropped his grip on her chin and abruptly walked away, but not before he let out an annoyed and exaggerated huff.

Amelia was stunned silent. It was as if her brain had just stopped working. She turned, watching him with her jaw dropped and her hands on her hips. Her brain was trying to work through everything, but it was hitting walls at every turn. Did Cole completely miss the fact that Josh was the one who got us into this mess?

“It was a vampire!” a deep voice shouted.

Crap! The shout effectively snapped Amelia out of her stupor, and she jogged over to where Josh stood, with the people from the fair crowding around him. She ducked under an arm and then pushed her way to the center.

Josh’s six-foot frame towered over a young man, sixteen or seventeen, and he was a good foot shorter than Josh. He was lean and lanky and, compared to Josh, he looked small and insignificant. Or maybe he looked small and weak because he was so shaken, Amelia wasn’t sure, not that she blamed him though; she had freaked out when she found out vampires were real, too. Beside him, a small bird of a girl cowered and had a death grip on his back jean pocket.

“No it wasn’t,” Josh said. “Like I told you, there was a chemical spill; the fumes are messing with your mind.” He folded his arms over his chest, making himself look even bigger, and Amelia didn’t miss the slight ripples in his skin.

“But … but … I saw the fangs, and … and her neck,” he gasped, pointing to Amelia, “It bit her, the blood! I saw it all!” he said with a shudder in his voice. “If … if that didn’t happen, then why are you trying to force us to stay here?” the boy demanded. His arms flew around in jerky, coiled motions, and his eyes darted around, looking at everything like a frightened and caged wild animal but not staying on one thing long enough to actually see anything.

“Strong walls,” Josh answered. “Keeps the fumes out.”

“You can’t hold us here!” the boy yelled. “There’s no way we are staying with these… these beasts running wild!” He grabbed his girl’s hand, and spun around, most likely looking for a new escape route. Amelia had never seen anyone deflate as quickly as he did when his eyes locked with her stare.

“Actually, yes, we can,” Amelia said. She smiled, trying to appear reassuring and unthreatening. “The town is under quarantine.”

The smile didn’t work. “Don’t lie to me.” He inched back, pushing the girl behind him. “I saw that … that thing bite you. And you had light shooting from your skin.” His voice trembled, and he took another step back. And the way he looked at her, it was as if Mitchell wasn’t the only monster. She was also something to be feared.

But the only thing Amelia’s brain would understand were his words, Light shooting from her skin. That statement crushed any small bit of hope she had. She had been holding onto the idea that Mitchell had stopped. That he had let her go because he wanted to. She hadn’t even considered that she might have stopped him.

Amelia blinked back burning tears and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but no one bit me,” she said. She was aiming for strong, but even she heard the tremor in her voice. “Maybe you should go lay down. Get some rest.”

“I know what I saw,” he countered. “I’m not staying here, and neither is my girl. None of us are!”

All around them, the agitated crowed began to mutter and murmur their agreement amongst themselves. “Please,” Amelia started. She didn’t know what else to say. It was just all too much. The people. The vampires. The hunters. Everything was falling apart and crushing her, and she suddenly felt as if she was lying beneath a bunch of boulders, with more burying her as every second passed.

Cole pushed through the buzzing crowd and cut her off. “No, Millie, he’s right. We can’t keep them if they want to go.” He smiled a surprisingly gentle smile at the boy, and went to step forwards.

“Cole, what are you doing?” Amelia whispered, grabbing his arm, as panic gripped at her chest.

Cole shrugged off her hand and winked at her. “If you’ll just come with me first, I need you to sign a waiver before you go. You know, to confirm that you know the risks and won’t hold us liable for any injuries that I am sure you will incur by venturing out on your own.” He waved his hand, gesturing for the boy to follow, and Amelia caught the now familiar smell of cotton candy and gumdrops. The boy licked his lips, and the girl peeked around his back, peering at Cole, and they both followed without another word. The rest of the crowd fell silent, looking just as dazed, and in no time, they all fell into step behind him. “Works every time,” Cole said with a chuckle and another wink at Amelia, and then he led them into the house.

CHAPTER 17

Tristan was like the perfect little devil, whispering in his ear. He could make the simplest comments sound demented and thrilling all at once, and Mitchell couldn’t lie, it was wonderfully sinful and picture perfect, even if the kid was starting to grate on his nerves, just a little bit.

After he had let Amelia and her friends flee, Mitchell had rounded up his troops and took them back to town. He had thought about following her, but he knew he didn’t need to. She would go back to his house, he was certain of it. If there was one thing he knew about Amelia, it was that she was a scared little child, and she would run to the one place she felt safe, a place where she could hide.

So he decided to give her the illusion of safe. He had meant what he said; he wanted to have some fun with her, and right now, his fun was just beginning. He’d sit back for a bit and let them sweat. He hadn’t missed how many of those hunters looked at her with daggers, and he also hadn’t missed how many were born leaders. They would be at each other’s throats in no time, and that’s when he would strike.

They retreated back to the hole that Tristan called his house. It was small and dirty, and none of the furniture matched, but for now, Mitchell figured it would do, at least until he was ready to take back what was his.

“McLean worked with the hunters,” Tristan said casually, as he lounged on an ugly green and brown striped chair with his feet propped up on a scratched up coffee table. “He wanted you dead. I think that overrules pet status, don’t you?”

“How do you know this?” Angelle asked with a sugary tone. She sat across from him matching his lax pose, but Mitchell knew that voice. It was the voice she used just before she attacked. The calm before the storm, yep … that was Angelle, and Mitchell had to work at stifling his groan. Would they ever stop this pointless bickering?

“Because, I was there,” Tristan said, brushing Angelle off just like a brother would brush off an annoying sibling.

“Exactly,” Angelle said. “You were there. You helped them.” She made a great show of rolling her big brown eyes. “Mitch, just kill him already,” she said, and then, a sunny smile popped up on her lips, and she let her fangs slide into place. “Or better yet, let me do it.” She let her legs fall to the floor with a lazy grace and began to stand.