Waking Dreams (A Soul's Mark Novella) (7 page)

If Luke noticed how much Eric was
struggling to keep control over his own reality, he didn’t let on.  He walked
into the room, slamming what was left of the splintered door shut, and grabbed
Eric by the arm.  He dragged Eric over to one of the chairs, and deposited him
in it.  “Did you ask her where she was this time?” he asked once he had taken a
seat in a chair across from Eric.  Luke hunched forwards, resting his elbows on
his knees.

Eric shook his head from side to side. 
“No, there wasn’t enough time.”  But then, there never was enough time.  Since
the so-called
dreams
started, Megan had never stayed with him long.

Luke nodded, just a slight dip of his head,
and he waited, staring at Eric with those inquisitive hazel eyes.  Eric didn’t
know what Luke was waiting for, or what he was supposed to say.  So instead of
saying anything, he held Luke’s stare, and to Eric’s surprise, the staring
contest helped.  It gave him something to focus on, and made it easier to
handle Megan’s racing heart, which had now become a permanent fixture in the
back of his mind.

Luke blinked first.  “You need to stop
fighting with Mitchell.”  There was a small curve to his lips, as if he knew
how impossible that statement was.

“What do you care?” Eric challenged,
confused by the look Luke was giving him.  He leaned back in the uncomfortable
wooden chair and crossed his arms over his chest.  “He obviously doesn’t.”

Luke’s expression changed in a beat.  He
eyed Eric sternly, furrowing his brow.  “Eric, you’re his first child.  He’s
trying.”

“He’s a monster!” Eric yelled, jumping to
his feet, and started pacing.  He clenched his fists, and heat rushed up his
neck, settling into his cheeks.  “He doesn’t give a crap about me, or anyone. 
He’s going to let Megan die!”  Eric knew it wasn’t entirely true.  He knew that
Mitchell and Luke, and well, all of them, were just trying to help him.  Racing
out the door and searching for someone that could be anywhere wasn’t the
smartest thing to do, but it was the only thing he could think of.  It was as
if his soul was begging him to find her.  A constant tug at his body, urging
him to abandon everything, and do nothing but search.  Every fiber, every cell,
every single piece of his body and mind longed for her.

“You’re wrong,” Luke said, not unkindly. 
“He does care.  Look …” Luke ran his hand through his hair and scrubbed at his
face.  “You know that Lola is my soulmate, right?” he asked after a minute.

That threw Eric for a loop.  “What?” he
blurted, stopping his relentless pacing, and looked at Luke.  He knew they were
together
.  It wasn’t as if they had hid it, but he had never really
considered that any of the others had found their soulmates.  If they had, they
would have understood that he couldn’t stay here.  They would help him, not
restrain
him.  They would let him search.

Luke’s eyebrows rose.  “Come on, you must
have noticed her mark.  She’s my soulmate.”

Eric tried to remember if he had ever
noticed Lola’s mark.  She always had her hair down, covering her neck, and in
all honesty, he couldn’t say if he had ever seen it.  If he had, he was sure he
would have asked about it. 
Wouldn’t I?

“Mitchell isn’t really the best at explain
things,” Luke continued.  “He’s locked you up here because he doesn’t know what
to do.  He doesn’t know how to make you understand what finding her means or
what can happen when you do.  And with you refusing to talk to him …” Luke
smirked, and right then, Eric was pretty sure Luke knew just how infuriating
Mitchell could be, “… and showing him you have no control over your emotions …
well, you’ll be stuck here until you show him you’re ready for this.”

“Ready for what, exactly?” Eric asked. 
Maybe
Luke wasn’t so bad.
  Maybe he actually wanted to help.  He looked like he
did, and he also looked like he knew exactly how Eric felt.

Luke smiled approvingly, and Eric figured
that he had asked the right question.  “Ready for the bond.  It can change you;
make you do things that you never would have thought possible.  I’ve seen
vampires take their own lives because of it.  And Eric, there’s no coming back
for a vampire.”  Eric shuddered inwardly as he listened.  There was an ominous
tone to Luke’s timbre, as if he had harnessed a storm and channeled it into his
voice, making his words sound harsh, and dangerously true.  “You have, or could
have, complete control over that girl.  You could make her do things, control
her every thought, every move.  It can ruin you and ruin her.”

Eric stifled a groan.  “You make just about
as much sense as Mitchell.  I would never try to control someone.”

“You say that now, but trust me, it will
change.”

“Is there a point here?” Eric asked,
plopping back down in his chair.  He scratched at his head, trying to make
sense out of what Luke was saying.

“Now,” Luke said, dropping his voice to a
whisper so low, that Eric had to strain to hear.  “If you are ready to pretend
like you are not some psychopath on a mission, I believe I can convince
Mitchell that you do not need to be kept down here.”

Eric scrunched his brow, confused. 
“Pretend?”

Luke put a finger to his lips and
shushed
him.  Actually
shushed
him, and Eric almost laughed—almost.  “Yes,”
he whispered with a nod, and his eyes danced with amusement.  When he continued,
his voice was booming loud.  “Didn’t you just say that you thought Mitchell was
right and you were willing to wait?”

“Err … okay?” Eric said it as if it was a
question, because, well, it kind of was.  Talk about confusing.  Eric wasn’t
sure what to think.  Was Luke really trying to break him out so he could search
for Megan?

Luke winked, and rose from his chair. 
“Alright then, but I don’t want you sneaking out when we aren’t looking.  Stick
to what you just told me.  You don’t want to put her in more danger by finding
her.”  Luke was practically shouting their conversation for Mitchell’s benefit,
Eric figured, and it took everything Eric had in him not to burst out laughing.

To say Mitchell was relieved to see him was
a definite understatement.  As soon as Eric cleared the last step leading
upstairs, he was wrapped in a bone-breaking bear hug.

Luke did most of the talking; reiterating
the conversation, explaining how Eric finally understood, and he even
apologized profusely on Eric’s behalf for worrying everyone.  Each time Eric
tried to say something, anything, Luke would just talk over him.  In no time,
Luke was ushering Eric up another flight of stairs, and pushing him down the
hallway into Eric’s bedroom.

“Now, you remember what I said, no sneaking
out,” Luke said, and then he pulled the door shut, leaving Eric alone.

Eric stared at the ground so far below
him.  His heart was racing, and his hands began to sweat.  Theoretically, he
knew that the jump could not hurt him, but his brain was still stuck on being human. 
And this three-story jump would hurt a human.

Just jump,
his brain commanded, but his feet didn’t listen, so he closed his eyes, figuring
that if he couldn’t see the ground so far below, it may make it easier.  It
didn’t.

It wasn’t until he heard the shuffling
outside his bedroom door that Eric flung himself through the open window.  He
hit the ground with a quiet thud, landing on his feet, and he took off running
as fast as he could.

The sun was just starting to rise, soaking
the cloud covered horizon with pinks and oranges.  It was a cool morning, and
flakes of snow fell all around him as he ran.  He knew he needed to get as much
distance between him and his family as fast as possible.  If he didn’t, and
they caught him, he was certain they would drag him back.  Being the youngest
had its downsides.  They were all stronger than he was, and so much faster. 
His only hope was a head start.

Mitchell thought that Megan was close.  He
said that the dreams wouldn’t be happening so soon if she wasn’t.  The problem
was Mitchell thought it was better to wait, and try to get a lock on her
location.  But Eric just couldn’t sit back and wait.  Not now.  Not when he
knew she was more than just a dream.  And definitely not with her so scared. 
He had no choice.  He had to find her.  Even now, he could feel her fear.  It
was a constant tug, a pull on his essence, and it was a struggle to stay lucid.

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.