Free The Soul's Mark: HUNTED by Ashley Stoyanoff Page A

kissed her turbulently, with such a need and urgency that it made something in her growl, deep within her gut.  This was nothing like the soft, teasing kisses they usually shared.  The passion ripped through her.  Her body tingled and she tried to get closer, burying her hands in his hair.
    The kiss only lasted seconds, but when they came up for air, they were both panting.  Mitchell shifted his hungry gaze away from her and licked his swollen lips.  “I have to go out,” he whispered so quietly, that if it hadn’t been for their bond, she wouldn’t have heard the words.  As it was, she had only felt them, and it felt as if he had kicked her in the ribs, knocking the air out of her.  Was he really going to come in here and kiss her like that and then leave?  “You don’t understand,” he said desperately when he felt her reaction.  “It’s not what you think.”
    Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it when no sound came out.  She wanted to stand up and move away from him, but her knees felt weak and shaky, and she didn’t trust them to hold her weight.  Not yet anyways.  Her eyes started to burn, and she wanted to cry, but she sucked it back, determined not to let him see how much she was hurting, and she let the anger take her over.  “Then enlighten me because, seriously, the guilt that’s pouring off you doesn’t give me much to believe here.”
    A cool, calm remoteness settled upon his face as he realized that Fiona was what was bothering her so much.  “Believe whatever you want, Amelia.  Now you know how I feel.  With Eric and you and your stupid rules, why don’t you break them and see if I’m telling the truth?  Go ahead and look.”
    Amelia was about to.  She really wanted to dig in and find something, anything to justify her anger.  But then she got a quick flash of a thought.  He wanted her to break the rule, give him a free pass to confirm his suspicions about her and Eric, and she would be damned if she was going to give him that.  She pulled herself out of his lap and turned her attention back to the television, pretending to watch the movie.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him get up and shuffle back and forth for a few minutes, and then he sighed and left her alone.
     

CHAPTER 7
     
     
    Where the hell am I? Eric wondered as he took in his surroundings.  He turned around slowly, hoping to pick out something he recognized on the dark suburban street.
    On each side of him were small cookie-cutter houses, all with the same long driveways and little front gardens.  As he continued to turn, he caught sight of the glowing Willowberg Blood Bank sign at the end of the street, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  He was still in Willowberg.
    But how did I get here?   He didn’t know.  The last thing he remembered, he had been in his room reading up on ghosts, trying to find a way to contact Megan.  He was sure she was dead.  It seemed like this could be the only logical explanation to the strange dreams.  If she wasn’t dead, then he would be able to feel her presence, and he couldn’t.  Not like before.  He had been in bed.  The sun had just started to set and…  “I fell asleep,” he whispered.  His heart jumped with excitement.  “Megan?” he called.  He spun around, frantically scanning the neighborhood.
    Nothing.  No Megan.  The street was whisper quiet.  His heart plummeted.  Was it possible that he wasn’t sleeping?  Everything around him seemed so real.  The pavement beneath his feet, the cool night breeze ruffling his hair, the fresh, dewy scent.
    It has to be a dream, he thought as he started down the sidewalk heading towards the blood bank, moving quickly, but keeping his eyes peeled as he moved along the street.  The silence seemed to sink deeper.  He couldn’t even hear the sound of his shoes smacking against the pavement.
    Then suddenly out of nowhere a white light flourished in front of him, growing brighter and