Waking Dreams (The Soul's Mark #1.5)

Waking Dreams (The Soul's Mark #1.5) Page 6

“Eric,” Mitchell said, his voice filled with concern. He shot out of his chair and began inching towards Eric slowly, cautiously, as if he was scared to move too fast.

Eric opened his mouth to say something, but his voice lodged in his throat. Megan screamed again and again and again, and in the back of his mind, Eric swore he could see her running. Her face was tear stained, and her hair was flying wildly around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and she kept glancing over her shoulder as if someone was chasing her.

She stumbled, falling to her knees, and then clenched her hands to her chest. Looming shadows were closing in on her. Big, dark figures, wearing cloaks. “They’re going to hurt her,” Eric blurted. What was happening to him? How could he be seeing her as if he was standing right in front of her? The image in his mind was so crisp that it was as if he could reach out and touch her.

“Who?” Mitchell demanded, and for half a second, Eric looked at him, and when he did, he was sure he saw trepidation in Mitchell’s eyes.

“The … the … I don’t know,” Eric wailed in frustration. “She fell, and there are shadows …” Eric caught a glimpse of a hand, and he growled. “They have bows and arrows.”

Mitchell grabbed his shoulders, and shook him roughly. “Eric, you have to stop thinking about her. You’re going to pull her to you.”

“I have to help her!” Eric shouted, thrashing about as he tried, unsuccessfully, to get Mitchell’s hands off of him. All at once, he drew the lines that he hadn’t been able to connect before. She was real. She was his. And someone was trying to hurt her. He didn’t know why or how he knew this, but he did. He could feel it in his bones, in his heart, in his essence. She was his soulmate.

As if Megan knew he was watching, in that moment of realization, she shifted her head, giving him a clear view of her neck, and it was there—the mark—a black figure eight with a solid line passing behind the bottom loop. His soul’s mark.

“Then you have to let her go,” Mitchell said sternly. “She needs to keep running. Trust me.” There was desperation in his voice, as if he was begging Eric to listen. “You need to stop watching and let her run.” He paused for a second, and his eyes misted. “Please stop,” Mitchell pleaded.

But Eric couldn’t. He had no control over whatever was happening. He didn’t understand it. Why couldn’t Mitchell see that? Eric watched helplessly as Megan’s body began to separate, as if her spirit was leaving her, and suddenly a wavy image of her floated above as her body collapsed to the ground.

Eric cried out, terrified, and his body began to shake.

“Mr. Carter?” Megan screamed, panicked. Her voice filled the room, and her erratic heartbeat hit Eric’s ears like a punch in the gut. He swiveled his head, following the sound, and he sucked in a startled breath. Her green eyes were piercing and full of alarm, and her blood red curls, untamed.

Mitchell cursed. And then, in a swift motion, he grabbed Eric’s chin and twisted, and everything went black.

Eric woke up with a start. His neck snapped and popped, and he could feel his spine piecing together under his skin. His neck muscles tightened, and with another uncomfortable snap, they loosened again. He gasped, and the air burned through his lungs as if he had been holding his breath for hours. His eyes began to water, and he scrubbed at his face. What the hell happened?

“Eric, I want you to check on Megan,” Mitchell said.

Eric dropped his hands from his face, and shifted his gaze to Mitchell. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, with a grim expression, and he wouldn’t meet Eric’s eyes.

In a split second, everything came racing back. The soul’s mark. The curse. Megan. She had been scared. She had been here. His eyes blazed, and his fangs snapped down. “What did you do?” Eric demanded.

Mitchell cringed, and shuffled around on the bed uncomfortably. After a moment, he took a deep breath and said in a rush, “You pulled her spirit here, so I broke your neck.”

“You what!” Eric seethed.

“I needed to break the connection. If someone was chasing her, she had to keep running, and she couldn’t do that if she wasn’t in her body,” Mitchell said, as if it was simple logic.

“Where is she?” The words came out in a growl, and Eric glared at Mitchell. I can’t believe he broke my neck!

“I don’t know,” Mitchell said, his calm and controlled demeanor back in place. He tossed up his hands and waved them around. “Hence, why I want you to check on her.”

“How in the hell am I supposed to do that if you don’t even know where she is? She was just here!” Eric had seen her. She had been here which meant, obviously, that no one was chasing her.

Mitchell nodded. “In a way, yes. I’ll explain it all, but first you need to see if she is okay. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and look for her.”

Eric did what he was told for two reasons. One: he really wanted to make sure Megan wasn’t just an illusion. And two: Mitchell was getting annoyed, and that never ended well.

When Eric closed his eyes, Mitchell said, “Now, when you find her, try to pick out anything around her that will help you track her location. If she falls again, drop the thought. I don’t want you bringing her back here in case she is still in trouble. She needs to stay with her body.”

It made no sense to Eric, but he did as he was told. He couldn’t say how long he sat there trying to visualize Megan. It felt like hours, but no matter how hard he thought about her, he saw nothing. Only blackness. He was just about to give up when he heard a soft whimper. There was some crunching, as if someone was walking on gravel, and then a thud. A gasp and skin slapping skin.

“Eric, stop!” Mitchell said. “Stop!”

CHAPTER 8

The sun rose and then it set, and still Eric didn’t have any answers. Not that Mitchell hadn’t tried to give them, he had. It was just that Eric couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the idea that the girl of his dreams was actually real, alive, and out there somewhere. And it really didn’t help that every five minutes Megan was screaming, and each time she did, it wrecked havoc on his heart. Mitchell said it was a good thing that she was screaming. It meant that she was still alive, but Eric couldn’t stand her feeling so scared.

“So you don’t have any idea where she is?” Lola asked for at least the hundredth time.

“No,” Eric said, and he ran his hands through his hair. Luke, Lola, Angelle, and Mitchell sat around the round oak kitchen table staring at him. They were all giving him a look that said they didn’t believe him. Did they really think he would be sitting here with them if he knew where she was?

“Well, you need to find her,” Angelle chirped, as if it was the first time it had been said.

When Mitchell said that the soul’s mark gave a vampire a connection to their soulmate, he hadn’t been lying. From what Eric understood, his soul was in Megan, and the mark allowed him to use his soul to, in a sense, push hers out of her body. When that happened, he could then call her to him. Mitchell explained that this usually only happened while the vampire and soulmate were asleep, like a vivid dream.

In the dream state, Eric could also use the mark to force his soul out of her body for a limited amount of time. And this was exactly what Mitchell wanted him to do. If Eric did, then he would appear where she was, and he might be able to narrow down her physical location.

“I can’t try if we are both awake, now can I?” Eric snapped, frustrated and annoyed, and maybe a little hungry.

Since Eric seemed to have absolutely no self-control, Mitchell had insisted that he needed to learn some. He claimed that it would help find Megan, and self-control was allegedly the only way their race could survive, although Eric thought his father was just trying to punish him. For what, he didn’t know, but there always seemed to be a reason. All he wanted to do was find Megan, but each time he did, Mitchell would force him to stop, and Eric was really getting tired of having a broken neck. Eric knew Mitchell was doing it to keep Megan safe. The only times he had been able to grip onto her spirit was when she was running for her life, but still, it was infuriating.

They had wandered around Willowberg for ten hours in the frigid snow while Mitchell introduced him to fear, love, and anger. Forcing the emotions on him and making him breathe in the scents that came from them. And then, when Eric thought he would surely die of starvation, Mitchell had forced him to walk away. Walk away from the pounding hearts, the sound of blood quickening in their veins, and not give in to the temptation.

It had been the worst lesson yet. There was something about the strong emotions that made the blood sweeter. Alluring. Magical. Just the thought of it made his teeth sharpen, ripping through his gums like thick needles through flesh. And with all the insane emotions he was feeling with Megan’s fear rupturing inside him, mixed with the lesson, he was famished.

But the lesson, not that Eric would ever tell Mitchell, had worked. When Megan screamed, it was easier to keep control and let her run instead of bringing her to him.

“You actually saw her?” Luke asked Mitchell, his hazel eyes questioning.

“No,” Mitchell said, shaking his head. “I didn’t have time to look. But she was here, and as soon as I heard her voice, I stopped him.”

“How?” Luke asked simply, before Eric had a chance to spit out exactly what he thought of Mitchell stopping him.

“Before the fire …” Mitchell started, and then stopped, swallowing hard. He glanced out the window, but by the look on his face, Eric was pretty sure Mitchell wasn’t actually seeing anything. The silence grew thick in the air, and Eric noticed that the others were looking at Mitchell with deep sympathy.

“Mitch, you don’t have to talk about her,” Angelle said, breaking the awkward stretch of silence. She pulled her chair closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

Mitchell smiled, a sad kind of smile, and then he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “When Amelia was scared, when her emotions were running wild, I could latch onto her and pull her out while we were awake. When I did, well she appeared as herself, and anyone around could see her, touch her, as if she was really, fully there.”