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

“He’s fine, Millie,” Megan said in a reassuring tone. She ran her fingers along the metallic wall of the van. Sparks ignited everywhere she touched. “They’ve spelled the vehicle. They’re trying to block the connection. He’s fine.” The conviction in her voice didn’t help as much as Amelia would have liked.

Tears pricked at her eyelids, and Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. Every breath she took hurt. It was as if the air had sprouted knives as it entered her throat, and they were slicing gashes all the way down to her lungs. Megan touched her shoulder, just a soft, tentative hand, but it was enough, and Amelia shook off all the questions and fears that were flooding through her body and trying to drown her.

“Let’s try to blast off the door,” Amelia said. She didn’t miss the uncertainty in her own voice, but she tried to ignore it, rolling to her feet and inspecting the back doors of the van. There were no levers to open it from the inside and no windows. She was trapped in a box, and it felt as if the walls were closing in, the air was getting thicker and thicker, and her chest began to squeeze tight.

“Wait. Who was that woman? And how did she do all that?” Megan looked scared, confused, and small, and Amelia didn’t really know what to say. She didn’t have the answers. She didn’t know, and right now, the only things she could think about were the closing walls and the tight air and …

“It’s a long story, Meg,” Amelia said, her voice raspy, and she tried to picture herself in a wide-open field with lots of air and no walls. It wasn’t working. The claustrophobia threatened to consume her. “Just help me,” she blurted, ready to start clawing at the walls. “I’ll explain later. We have to get back before she gets there.”

“Why?” Megan snapped, frustrated. As soon as the question was out of her mouth, her cheeks flared and she quickly rushed on. “Not that I don’t want to go home but…”

“She won’t be welcome,” Amelia said between gasps of the horribly thick and suffocating air.

Thankfully, Megan nodded and bit her tongue, but Amelia could clearly see the questions burning in her eyes—questions that she knew she didn’t have answers to. She forced those questions out of her mind, and she called upon her magic. It sparked up, licking at her fingertips like a happy little puppy overjoyed to get attention.

Megan stepped beside her, releasing a sigh. Amelia grinned. She knew exactly what Megan was feeling—ecstasy. The magic heated their veins, warmed their flesh, and swirled around them in a delirious heart-racing kind of sensation.

“I’m ready when you are,” Megan breathed, her voice raspy.

“Be ready to jump as soon as it’s open,” Amelia said. She gathered up every ounce of power she had into the palm of her hand. She pulled her arm back, readying herself to throw the bolt like a baseball. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Megan mimic her motion. “On three,” she said, and Megan nodded her understanding. “One, two, three.”

They launched their spheres on three, and for a second, it was mind-blowing. The magic raced through the air like fireworks, lighting the dimly lit van in a glorious burst of lights and colors.

Amelia was tossed back. She smashed her head against the small door at the front of the van with breath-taking force. White light shot at her from all directions—blinding and scolding. Megan crashed into her with a shriek.

The van lurched to a tire squealing stop, and the back doors screeched, as they were ripped open. Shadows emerged from the blinding light and steam that was clouding the van, and then suddenly, a strong set of arms was lifting Amelia, cradling her against a muscular chest.

She tried to struggle and kick, but it was useless. She glared up into the laughing gray eyes that gazed down at her. “Put me down, Josh.”

Josh’s grin widened to a cocky looking smile. He hopped down to the ground and set her on her feet outside the smoking van. She stumbled, and dizziness rushed over her in waves of hot and cold. She grabbed onto Josh’s arm out of instinct, trying to keep herself standing. He took a firm hold on her arm, keeping her upright, and then he winked and said, “Look who’s getting all grabby this time.”

Amelia couldn’t come up with a clever comeback, so instead, she just glared at him, and he laughed. Cole emerged from the cloud of smoky steam with Megan in tow, who was growling something unintelligible while struggling to get out of his grip.

“Megs, you blew up my van,” Cole yelled, as he swung her around to face him. “Do you really hate me this much? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Megan spat in his face. “No, you’ll just kill my soulmate.”

In a lightning fast motion, Cole raised his hand as if he was going to strike Megan. Amelia didn’t think, she just reacted, conjuring her energy, and launching everything she had at him. It hit him square on, and he stumbled back; unfortunately, he held Megan so firmly that she stumbled with him.

Josh spun on Amelia, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pinned her against a tree at the side of the road. “Do that again, and I’ll keep you subdued. Is that what you want?” he asked with a lethal undertone that made her bones quiver.

“He was going to hit her,” Amelia said meekly, averting her eyes to the ground. His skin was beginning to shudder and change, and her body trembled even more. This close to him, it was hard to hide the nerves that were jumping all over her skin, and her knees began to shake.

Josh took a long and loud breath. He dropped a hand from her shoulder and tipped her chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re going to freak out and attack him.”

“You keep me safe?” Amelia asked, stunned. The idea was ludicrous. It broke through her fear, and she couldn’t hold in the snarky tone that coated her next words. “News flash, you’re the one that’s putting me in danger.”

“I’m trying to save you!” he shouted, shaking her as if he thought it would knock some sense into her.

The motion only fueled Amelia’s anger. “You kidnapped me!”

He narrowed his eyes, and another shudder rushed over his skin. His voice was barely audible when he spoke, and it held a nerve-racking intensity. “I have orders to bring you in. Not her. You. So if you want her to make it, you’d better not do anything like that again.”

Amelia opened her mouth to blurt out a bunch of questions, but he quickly clamped his hand over it, silencing her. He called over his shoulder for Cole to follow. Cole nodded and scooped Megan, who was clawing frantically at his feet, up from the ground, and placed a hand on her forehead. Then, just like that, she went out cold. Cole slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Josh gave Amelia a long warning look and then began dragging her through the trees.

Josh was the leader. Amelia was dragged along behind him for a good twenty minutes, and the whole way she hoped that Mitchell was watching and tracking her movements, because, well, her brain had turned to mush, and she couldn’t figure out how she was going to get out of this mess. Somehow, Cole managed to keep Megan out as he carried her, keeping up with Josh.

As soon as they had stepped out of the van, the hum of Mitchell’s thoughts had surfaced in her mind, and with every moment that passed, they got stronger. She continued to call to him, but so far, she had received no response. It felt as if she was trying to call through a force field that deteriorated the sound of her voice before it could reach him.

When they stepped into a well-lit backyard, Amelia blinked against the light. As her eyes adjusted from the dark forest, her blood ran cold. She dug her feet into the ground and yanked on Josh’s wrists with all her might until he stopped. She was sure her eyes were wide with panic when Josh turned to her. “I can’t go in there,” Amelia said with a tremor in her voice.

Josh’s hard expression softened, and he loosened up on her arm by a small fraction. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Who gave you orders?” Amelia asked. She didn’t need to, she already knew, but something in her needed to hear that her suspicion was correct. All of a sudden, things were starting to make sense. Someone’s manipulating them, Madame Crystal had said, and right at that moment, Amelia knew exactly who that someone was.

“He’s a friend of yours,” Josh answered, his eyes clouding in confusion, and a small v-shaped frown began to form between his eyes.

“Who, Josh?” Amelia pleaded, and tried to pry his fingers from her arm, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Have you forgotten me already?” Amelia froze at the sound of his voice. She tried to puff out her chest and glare at him, but she must have looked as small and scared as she felt, because he just laughed.

CHAPTER 3

The sun was just starting to rise, and the sky was turning a Caribbean blue with small flares of light piercing through the willow branches as it made its way over the treetops.

Luke and Eric had taken off to wake the others, but Mitchell stood still, staring at the droplet of blood on the stone walkway. He knew it was irrational, but he was terrified that if he moved, he would never find the spot again. Or maybe it was that he was scared stiff that if he moved, he’d find more spots just like this. One little drop of blood was no big deal. She was hurt, yes, but alive. But if there were more …

The tap of heels on the stone walkway drew his eyes away from Amelia’s blood. “Hi, Mitchell, I’m Madame Crystal, but you can call me Sally,” a woman said, and she extended her hand to him. She didn’t even hesitate with him, shaking his hand with a firm grip, even though he could feel his fangs bulging out from under his lips, and he knew his eyes were blazing. He was completely flabbergasted, and the action, not to mention this unwelcome visitor appearing out of nowhere, threw him off guard and left him speechless as he studied her. She was a rather thin looking woman in her mid-thirties, an average height, dressed in a tailored coal-black pantsuit with a soft pink blouse underneath. Other than her silky, extraordinarily long black hair, she was average, nothing remarkable really, well, except that she clearly had no preservation instincts.



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