9 - Waking Dreams (The Soul's Mark #1.5) Page 9

He launched himself into the forest, heading east at full speed. Eric knew that Mitchell meant well, but he couldn’t stand by and wait. Mitchell was going on his own experience with Amelia. He had explained that she had been burned at the stake because of him, because of the dreams. That’s why she had been accused of witchcraft in the first place, but this … this was different. Eric was certain that Megan was being hunted. Why else would there be people chasing her with bows and arrows, if not to kill her?

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so different. Technically, people had been hunting Amelia as a witch, and now Megan was being hunted …

Eric ran for two hours without even a glance over his shoulder before he allowed himself to stop. He scaled a tree, getting out of sight, and perched on the highest branch that would hold his weight. He scanned the forest below him for any sign of Mitchell. He scrutinized every whisper of wind that brushed through the dry, snowy branches, every crunch of snow, every squirrel and bird, until he was certain that none of the sounds came from his family and no one had followed him.

Exhaling a pent-up breath that he hadn’t even known he was holding in, Eric leaned back against the tree, his legs dangling on either side of the branch, and closed his eyes for just a moment.

The air was frigid and crisp. Eric sucked in a few deep breaths, watching his breath puff out in smoky clouds. He had never been much of a planner and now was no different, he guessed, since he really hadn’t thought of much more than getting out of the house undetected. He looked at the snow-covered ground shimmering below him under the brilliant sun, and raked his hands through his hair.

Plan … Plan … Plan … I need a plan. He knew he couldn’t just sit in a tree all day, but now that he was, he really didn’t know where to go from there. How do you find a dream? The whole idea seemed ridiculous, really. Because of some vengeful witch, his soul had been taken from him the moment he had become a vampire, and it had joined with his soulmate.

Soulmate. I like the sound of that, he thought, and felt his lips stretch into a wide smile. And because she had his soul, he was connected to her. I can call her to me … no, not her, her spirit …

Megan? Eric thought the question, feeling a little foolish. Megan, can you hear me? He had never really tried to call her before, it had just kind of happened, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it would work, even though Mitchell had told him he could do it.

He waited, holding his breath and keeping his eyes glued shut, for what felt like ages. It was then that he realized how quiet she had been over the last hour or so, and his heart twisted and squeezed. He had been so focused on out running his family, who Eric was confident were tracking him, that he hadn’t realized that Megan had stopped …

“Eric? Where am I?” Megan asked, her voice groggy, and then she shrieked, an ear-splitting sound, and Eric’s eyes flew open.

Megan straddled the tree branch directly in front of him. Her body was rigid; her white knuckled hands gripped the branch as if her life depended on holding on. Her stunning green eyes were wide with panic, and her beautiful heart was beating like a frenzied drum roll.

“Isn’t it obvious,” Eric said, and smirked. He reached out, prying her hands from the tree bark, and held them tightly. “You’re in a tree, of course.”

Megan laughed. It was forced, and it came out in a quick burst, but the sound sent waves of pleasure over his skin. “How did I get in a tree?” she asked, smiling. “And why is it that every time I close my eyes you magically appear?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.” Eric’s voice was thick with emotion. She still thinks I’m a dream. The thought made his stomach sink. Maybe that was a good thing, he tried to convince himself, but it hurt all the same. He let go of one of her hands and brushed a loose curl from her forehead, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek. Megan blushed, a rosy pink, and a delicate giggle escaped her lips. He wanted to savor the moment, hold onto it, and never let it go. Too bad for him, his mouth didn’t feel the same. “Megan, who’s chasing you?”

“Excuse me?” Megan asked, looking surprised. She blinked, and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

For a split second, Eric considered telling her everything. About the curse, and the witch, and their entwined souls, but instead, he bit his tongue. She had enough to be scared of; she didn’t need to know that she was tied to a vampire—not yet. They could deal with that when he found her. “Who’s chasing you?” he asked again, softly, encouragingly.

“How … how … how …” she stammered. She scrunched her forehead and her little button nose, and she narrowed her eyes at him. She let go of his hand and started to cross her arms over her chest, but she teetered and slipped on the branch. Suddenly, her arms flew around his neck for support, and she pulled herself tightly against him.

Eric shook his head, trying not to grin at how adorable she looked right then, and sighed. He gently pushed her back, holding her shoulders tightly, and met her eyes. “I just know, okay?” he said, his tone pleading with her to accept it. “Tell me who and why.”

Megan watched him for a long moment, considering something, Eric assumed, although he didn’t have the slightest idea as to what. But then she shrugged, just a small lift of her tiny shoulders and sighed. “I don’t know who they are. They showed up a few weeks ago when this thing appeared on my neck,” she said with distain. She swiped her curls away from her neck and pointed at the soul’s mark inked on her skin. “They said it will lead them to a demon. A vampire. But that’s impossible. Vampires are not real.” She laughed awkwardly, dropping her eyes from his, and her face flushed cherry.

“Yes, impossible.” Eric cracked a one sided grin and nodded enthusiastically, hoping that it didn’t look fake. The grin felt fake, that was for sure. “If they’re waiting for the vampire, then why are they chasing you?” he pressed on, desperate for any piece of information that may help him save her. And he would save her, even if he died trying. Sitting with her, in that tree, right then, felt as if it was the most natural thing, as if it was something that they had done countless times before. It was as if he had always known her, and never known her all at the same time. And the thought of losing her before he actually met her, physically laid eyes upon her, was something that he just could not accept. Not now. Not ever.

“They said if they have to kill me to draw him out they will.” Megan sighed then, a long and gusty sound. “I’m losing my mind,” she muttered under her breath, before bringing her eyes back to him. “You seem so real … I’ve never had dreams like this before.” She reached up, entwining her fingers with his, which were still on her shoulders.

“It’s quite common to dream up a hero when your life is in danger,” Eric said, matter-of-factly, all the while wondering if it was in fact a true statement. He didn’t wonder for long though, because she squeezed his hands lightly. Her skin against his felt like silk, and it took every bit of restraint he had not to pull her closer.

“Well, hero, how will you save me then?” she asked teasingly. Her lips quirked upwards, and her eyes danced.

As Eric watched her smile, so carefree and happy in this moment, darkness began to simmer in his belly. It was black as pitch, swirling around him, eating away at him. Someone was trying to take this away from him, and right then he knew that he would kill anyone who tried. She was his. He was as sure of it as he was sure that the grass was green, or the sky, blue. She was the air he breathed; he felt it in his bones and with every beat of his heart.

“Where do you live?” he demanded, a bit too harshly.

Megan gasped, and he heard her pulse quicken. “Eric, what’s wrong with your eyes?” she asked, in a barely audible whisper.

“Where do you live!” he yelled. Everything his eyes touched blazed like fire. He tried to pull it back and tamp down the rage that was brewing within him, but he couldn’t. It was as if the anger had its own life force, burning within him uncontrollably. His muscles began to tense, shifting under his skin, and she gripped his hands tighter for support as she tried to slide away from him. Looking at her, Eric couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of him or of plummeting to the ground from the tree branch they sat on.

“In … in the mountains,” she said, her voice shaking with fear. A trembling hand let go of his and pointed behind him. “But I’ve been hiding in a cave.”

Hiding in a cave! a voice in his mind hissed. That did him in, and he lost the little bit of control he had left. His fangs snapped down, tearing through his gums in a blink.

Megan whimpered, and brought both of her hands to her mouth. Her eyes shimmered with terrified tears. “Oh my God, you … you … have fangs.” Her voice was muffled, her hands blocking the sound. She tried to move again, sliding backwards towards the thin part of the branch and further away from him. It began to sag and crack, and then it snapped.

Eric reached out a hand to grab her, but he wasn’t fast enough. Megan screamed, a bloodcurdling scream, and her arms flapped wildly about her. “I’m coming to find you,” he yelled, as she fell. He focused on sending her back, mentally pushing the image of her away, and just before her body hit the ground, she vanished from sight.

CHAPTER 12

That didn’t turn out so well, Eric thought miserably, as he looked at the broken tree branch lying below him. Scaring her hadn’t really been part of the plan, and it definitely wasn’t something she needed right now.

Eric let out a deep sigh. In the back of his mind, he could hear Megan calling him, begging him to come back to her, and for a moment, he thought about doing just that. She whispered apologies. Urging him to believe that she was not scared, even calling him her hero. His heart twisted and thumped erratically. A flash of her neck flitted across his vision. Her soft ivory skin tinted pink as the blood moved underneath the odd marking inked upon her skin. It resembled a figure eight, with a solid line passing through the center of the bottom loop. The outline of it burned brightly, illuminating and glowing in his mind, as if his brain was forcing him to see it. The glow beat in time with her heartbeat, pulsing out towards him. She called to him again. Just his name floating around his head, and then all of a sudden, she was gone. Her scent, her smile, the mark … all of it faded into a small and distant memory.

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