The Soul's Mark: CHANGED by Ashley Stoyanoff
She’d be lying if she tried to say that she had always believed there was hope for Mitchell. Truthfully, she had thought that he was a lost cause until just a few weeks ago. She’d never truly believed that he cared for Amelia, or for anyone but himself, but he’d proved her wrong. Mitchell had more than proved that he could be Amelia’s backbone, her support, and maybe most importantly, her partner. Yes, Mitchell was the perfect match for Amelia.
She focused on Lola for a moment. Sweet, sweet Lola. The poor girl looked totally distraught, pressed against Mitchell’s side, but then, being separated from a child could do that to a vampire. But it wouldn’t be long now before Lola figured it out, too. Without Amelia clouding Lola’s brain, she was certain Lola would see it.
She flipped to another scene, focusing in on Angelle and Tyler. Out of all of them, it was Angelle that surprised her most. Really, she had thought that the girl would have noticed the difference in her core by now.
It had been quite a shock when she had found Tyler whole. It wasn’t often that she ran across a human with both halves of their soul. But then, Tyler had never been meant for a vampire. His soul was a bit brighter than most, a bit fuller. And with a little digging after she had returned to the spirits, she had found that he had been meant for a witch, one that would never be put back into the cycle of life.
She probably shouldn’t have meddled, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. One last good deed before she turned the rest of her power over to its rightful owner. Angelle deserved another shot, and Tyler … he had obviously loved her beforehand. She only wished they’d open their eyes, and see each other. Really see each other, before he left on his ridiculous mission. She knew without a doubt that Amelia and Mitchell would need them both—they’d need all of their family—to succeed in this lifetime.
A burst of fire flared in front of her, and a strong gust of wind whipped around, tousling her hair, and blowing it into her eyes. Mother Nature glanced up from the pond, and smiled a soft kind of smile, as she tucked her hair behind her ears and watched the spirits gather in front of her. The stone ledge began to crumble to her right, bits of rock and dust floated into the air, piecing together as they made their way to the crackling flame. A stream of water rose from the pond, filling in and fleshing out, and the air rushed in a mini tornado.
The elements danced around each other for a moment, and then, with an audible groan, they blended together, taking on their favorite form as one unit.
Mother Nature pursed her lips and she felt the tightness in her forehead as deep frown lines creased between her eyes. The spirits laughed, a musical and playful sound, and she glared at them, not finding any humor in it. She swore they chose this form to mock her, and remind her of her failures over the past twelve-hundred years.
“Interfering again?” the spirits asked. Their voices were like a perfect melody, high and low. Even as they merged together as one unit, she could still hear all four tones as they spoke.
“After all this time, you still can’t get her eyes right,” Mother Nature said with a shake of her head, ignoring their question. “Her eyes are more gray than blue.” She scanned the body over; everything else was perfect; the chocolaty brown curls, the slim figure, even the nose was an exact replica of Amelia’s. But those eyes … they were Mitchell’s sky-blue eyes.
The spirits laughed, and smiled widely at her before looking down into the pond that they hovered above in mid-air. “Tell us, how did the man that was meant for the last Mother Nature end up the soulmate of a vampire?” When they glanced back at her, all the playfulness was gone, replaced by a furious looking storm that brewed in their eyes.
“Don’t give me that look,” Mother Nature said, waving a dismissive hand. “The last Mother Nature’s soul will never be put back into the life cycle, and neither will Angelle’s soulmate. There’s no harm in sharing some happiness.”
“This is what you call happy?” they shouted, pointing down at the image of a tear stricken Angelle, watching Tyler continue to pack his bags.
Mother Nature drew in her magic, pulling it from the pond and removing the scene before them. “It will come,” she said through tight lips. “Have a little faith in me.” She rose from her perch, and forced a smile as she asked, “Why are you here?”
“Mitchell’s time is running out, and so is yours,” they said happily, as if this was good news.
“Just a few more days,” Mother Nature said. She forced her smile wider, refusing to let them see any trace of the nerves she felt clawing at her stomach. She’d never been meant to hold this power for twelve-hundred years, and she was ready to let it go, but she knew if Amelia couldn’t prove herself, it would be passed to someone else. Someone less deserving. It was a punishment. Mother Nature understood that. Amelia should have been ready lifetimes ago. And it had been her job to get Amelia to that point. But just because she understood that they were being punished, it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“It’s already been a few days since the last time you asked,” they reminded her, and laughed again.
“And now I’m asking for a few more. Mitchell sees it. Amelia just needs to see it, too. They’re close.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded desperate, and she hated it. She rushed on quickly, attempting to cover up her distress. “They are the intended pair. They will restore the balance between our kind and the vampires. And now that she is one of each …”
The spirits raised their hand, silencing her. “Three more days, and not a second longer. If they are unable to fix it in this life, we will put him back into the cycle when she is ready.”
“Give them a week,” she pleaded, as their body began to melt, and separate, dissolving back into their individual elements. “She’ll never be ready without him.”
“Three days,” the spirits said in unison, and then they disappeared into the air.
CHAPTER 10
Amelia woke up with renewed vigor and determination to fix Mitchell and figure out a way to deal with the vampires and their soulmates. It was amazing what a goodnight’s sleep could do. For the first time in days, maybe even years, her head was clear, and she felt as if she could tackle everything that lay in front of her.
She lay in bed for a few moments, blinking away the sleep from her eyes, as she watched the pale orange light of the rising sun flitter through the French doors. She vaguely remembered Mitchell getting up this morning, or was it last night? Amelia wasn’t one-hundred percent sure. Either way, he still hadn’t made it back to bed. She pulled in a deep breath, and then pulled the blankets back, hopping out of bed.
Amelia padded across her bedroom and headed for the shower. Last night had been … long. Too long. Amelia had stayed in the library scouring her journals for hours. And although Megan had said she was going to help, she had taken off after only an hour or so with a phone call, leaving Amelia to the grueling task of trying to find answers alone.
But Amelia really didn’t mind being alone. It had given her some much-needed time with her thoughts. And she’d figured out something. Something that she thought could help her save Mitchell. She hated to admit it, and well, she really wasn’t planning to admit it to anyone but herself, but he was right … again.
She’d found a spell. One that would hopefully heal him, but the problem with that spell was that it took a lot of power. Amelia had the needed power. She knew she did. Except she also knew she couldn’t control that kind of power by herself. She hadn’t been able to control it when she was human, and her abilities were even more unpredictable now that she was a vampire.
Amelia pulled out a towel from under the sink and slung it over the frosted glass shower enclosure, before reaching in and turning on the taps. She stuck her hand under the stream, playing with the hot water tap until it was blistering, and then stripped off her pajamas and jumped in.
The scalding water beat down on her and the steam fogged up the stall in a thick white fog. She pulled in a deep breath, letting herself relax as she reconfirme
But really, she had already kind of figured that one out; she just really wasn’t ready to do it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him in her head. She did. And she really, really wanted the closeness back. To be able to feel him again. To be linked to him like they were meant to be. She wanted to be one with him more than anything. She was just scared. Scared of what she might do. Terrified that she’d hurt him. Completely freaked out that she would turn into that big jerk he had been when he had first bitten her.
But she knew if she did it, if she bit him so they could fully share their souls, he’d be able to access her magic again. And if he could use it, and help her use it, together they’d be able to heal him.
Together. Hadn’t her mother told her something like that? Together they would be able to change the bond into a gift. Together they were stronger. Together …
“Spirits, give me strength,” she whispered, as she let the water cascade over her body.
Amelia sighed long and loud. Mitchell had so much belief in her. He’d known right away that she needed to do this. He’d seen how much she was struggling, even when she hadn’t noticed it herself. And he believed that she could handle the bond. But not just that she could handle it, he’d known all along that she needed it. How did he always know what was good for her? He may not have always voiced his thoughts in the healthiest manner, but in the end, he always seemed to know what was for the best and what she needed. Not that Amelia would ever say it to him, but he was always right when it came to her.
“You do not need strength, my girl. You have an abundance of it all around you,” a deep voice said. The voice was whisper quiet, but it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Amelia shrieked, a choked and high-pitched kind of sound, and she jumped. “Who’s there?” she asked, peering through the frosted glass. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and that freaked her out—just a little.
She heard an airy chuckle that sounded too close, as if it was coming from right behind her, and then the voice said, “I’m the spirit of water.”
Amelia felt all the blood rush from her cheeks, and her stomach did a little nervous hop and flip. One of the spirits was here. One of the spirits was speaking to her. One of the spirits was …
“Get the hell out of here!” Amelia yelped, as realization dawned on her. She quickly turned off the taps, stopping the flow of water, before whipping open the glass doors and rushing out of the shower. She snagged a plush white towel and cinched it around her.
Amelia was sure she was a bright cherry red as she peered into the shower stall. In theory, she knew that the spirits were everywhere, but having one take a shower with her was … well, it was not cool.
“Amelia, I am in everything. I am water,” the voice said. The bellowing steam began to shift in the air, and water beads floated, rising from the tiles in the shower stall. They swirled around in what resembled a mini tornado, the steam mixing with the droplets, glimmering under the pot lights.
Slowly, the mix of water shifted, taking on a translucent, watery looking form of a man. He was about her height, with glassy and vacant looking eyes. His hair looked as if he was wearing a bad toupee, plopped on top of his head like a blob of brown goo. He had arms and legs, but his frame jiggled as if at any second the water would burst like a balloon filled with Jell-O.
He smiled, or at least that’s what Amelia thought it looked like. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Amelia.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped—literally. She could feel it hanging, bobbing up and down as if she was a fish out of water, gasping for breath. It was his airy chuckle that snapped her out of her stupor and she took a step back, and snapped, “You can’t just show up on a girl in the shower!”
He leaned against the far wall of the shower stall, his body seemingly sinking into it, and folded his floppy looking arms over his chest, smirking at her. “You called. I came. If you did not want me in the shower, you should not have called while you were there.”
“I did not call you!” she said, putting her hands on her hips, trying not to think about how weird it was to be speaking to a blob of gooey looking water. She felt the soft burn in her eyes as they began to wash red, and her magic flared, coating her body in a swirling crimson light.
“Do not take that tone with me,” he said, although it sounded more like a growl. His body began to thicken and harden, taking on more of a human looking form, except, no matter how hard Amelia tried to take him in, she couldn’t really focus on him. It was as if every time she thought she got a glimpse of what he looked like it was erased from her mind. He had brown hair and he was her height, but other than that, nothing stood out. It was as if, even though he seemed to have a body, it wasn’t actually there. “You called upon the spirits for strength. Do you really want to argue about this now?”
“Um … no?” she asked, utterly confused, and she felt her jaw start to flap again. What the hell is happening?
“Good,” he said with a small nod. “Now, since I’m here, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
“Okay …” she said, hugging herself tightly, as she tried to tame her magic that was whirling and flaring all around her. She had an overwhelming urge to flee, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from him.
“You have three days,” he said, and she swore she heard laughter in his voice.
“What?” she asked, as her brow knitted together. “What happens in three days?”
He shrugged, as if to say he didn’t know, which was retarded, in Amelia’s opinion, because he obviously did. “You’ll find out in three days. But I’ll give you a hint. Listen to your lover, girl. He knows what must be done.”
“What does Mitchell know about anything?” she asked, as dread seeped into her bones. The last thing Amelia wanted to think about was Mitchell getting involved with the spirits. He could barely handle being human as it was.
The water spirit didn’t answer. Instead, he let out a full-bellied laugh. Amelia glared at him, watching the water jiggle around as his body shook with laughter. She huffed in frustration, but it only made him laugh harder.
He sobered after a few moments, and gave her a stern look. “Do not come to me, or the other spirits seeking answers. We will no longer help you, and neither will Mother Nature. You asked for the power and now you must decide how much you want it and what you will give up for it.”
Right then, someone screamed. It was a loud shrill and Amelia startled, vaulting a good foot off the ground. She landed on the balls of her feet, swiveling around, and threw open the bathroom door. Her muscles tensed, tight as a corkscrew, ready to attack, but she saw nothing. She scanned her bedroom again, searching for Mitchell, or anyone, but she was alone.
She threw a quick look over her shoulder, glancing back at the water spirit. He smiled, a cruel kind of smile, and then, as if he was a water balloon falling to the ground, he popped, splattering all over the walls of the shower stall.
CHAPTER 11
“Are you kidding me?” Eric asked, dumbfounded. “This is what you’re going to fight me on?”
Megan fell to her knees and let out a bloodcurdling scream, and Eric just stood there, watching her. He wasn’t sure if he was more hurt or angry, but either way, he couldn’t make himself pull it back. Maybe that’s a good thing, he thought. Megan needed to feel the pain of the bond in order to test her magic against it, but knowing that didn’t make the betrayal he felt at that moment any easier to handle.
They’d been at it for hours now, trying to find something, anything, that they could disagree on enough to trigger the pain from the soulmate bond. As it turned out, most of Eric’s worries had been completely uncalled for. He saw eye to eye with Megan on pretty much everything. Well, everything except the one thing that, in the last twenty-four hours, had become most important to him.
They were gathered in the dungeon; Mitchell, Luke, Lola, Erin, even Lucy was down here with them, al
“Megan, try to deflect it,” Mitchell said, coaching her in a voice that Eric figured was supposed to be soothing, and maybe it was for her, but it made his blood boil.
“Stay the hell out of this, Dad,” he growled, and he moved closer to Megan. “How is this something you don’t want?” Eric snapped, glaring down at her. He hated how his voice sounded—hurt, angry, and more than a little mean. It wasn’t him, and he didn’t want to sound like that, but he couldn’t help it.
“Eric, I’m sorry,” Megan gasped in between screams. “You don’t understand. I’m sorry.” She started panting for breath and clenching at her chest. Eric knew her lungs were caving in and he wanted to stop. He really wanted to, he even tried to force himself to agree with her to make the pain stop, but his brain—and heart—wouldn’t accept it.
Tears prickled at his eyes, and his heart felt as if someone was chipping away at it with an ice pick, splintering off piece after small piece. “I thought you wanted to be here,” he said, his voice hollow, void of emotion. “I thought you wanted …”