Amelia gasped as Lola latched onto her neck like a bulldog. She wasn’t gentle, not like Mitchell. Amelia could feel Lola’s fangs extending under her skin, and then she felt the pull as Lola sucked mouthfuls of her blood. Amelia struggled, trying to break away, but then she tasted it. Lola’s blood. It was ... sweet, and thick, almost like maple syrup.

If Amelia had expected it to hurt, she was wrong. After the first second, she hardly felt Lola’s fangs. Her skin warmed, her stomach fluttered wildly, her throat burned, and before she knew it, she was swallowing huge mouthfuls of the syrupy goodness. And then she was biting down, and there was a pinching sensation, and her gums throbbed, and her body tingled, and …

Lola released her, and when Amelia kept drinking, she jammed a finger into the side of Amelia’s mouth, prying her off. “That’s enough,” Lola murmured. Her voice filled Amelia with a cozy warmth, and she opened her mouth, letting go.

Something snapped in her mouth, her gums pulsed, and everything around her had an odd reddish tint as if she was looking through stained glass. She rubbed at her eyes trying to clear them, and it hurt—really hurt. It felt as if someone was peeling the skin from her face, and a snarl erupted from her lips.

“Not so hard, Amelia,” Lola said, taking her hands and leading her to the full length mirror that hung on the bathroom door.

“Holy crap,” Amelia breathed, taking in her reflection. Her eyes blazed like fire, and the skin around them was stained with blood, healing. But that wasn’t all she noticed. The little bit of flab under her arms was gone, defined into lean muscles. Her complexion was even, soft porcelain. Her hair looked smooth, with a healthy sheen.

“How do you feel?” Lola asked, her eyes running over Amelia, with a new appreciation.

“Um, hot?” Amelia answered, pitching the word into a question. Lola giggled, rolling her eyes, and Amelia rushed on, trying to explain. “Hot as in, like my throat is burning, and my skin, and well, my whole body, like … like, I just went for a run, and it feels…awesome.” She felt her lips pull into what she was sure was a goofy grin, and as it widened, her gums ripped, and she felt the tip of fangs jutting into her bottom lip.

Lola gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s your muscles changing, strengthening. It’ll pass in a few hours.”

Amelia glanced back in the mirror. “You know, if I had have known that changing would take away the frizz from my curls and make them look so silky, I would have done this months ago.” She spun around looking at her new body from all angles, and as she did, a carousel of scents: sweat, blood, sweet fear, salty tears bombarded her, spinning around her in a whirlwind. She felt her eyes blaze for a second and then dim, smoldering like embers in the smoking coals of a fire, and her fangs slowly sharpened when the last smell hit her—tangy spice.

Mitchell.

Her nostrils flared, breathing in long deep breaths, and her feet began to move, with slow predator precision. The chain around her heart urged her to run to him, find him, and most of all, she wanted to taste him. Lola snagged her arm, stopping her.

Suddenly, Mitchell’s brain snapped shut like a hidden trap door. The soft pull of the bond melted away, and Amelia’s skin stopped tingling. Her heart stopped beating. “Mitchell!” she shrieked, lunging for the door.

Lola was on her in seconds, tackling her, and pinning her down. “Amelia, stop,” she growled.

“No, let go. I can’t feel him. Josh… Let me go.” Amelia struggled, using all of her strength. She kicked and punched. Lola’s nose snapped to the side, and Amelia felt one of her ribs snap when she kicked out. But she didn’t care. All she could think about was ripping out Josh’s throat.

The bedroom door flew open, and suddenly, Lola was off of her. Amelia vaulted up, easily, landing nimbly on the balls of her feet. Before she could move, Luke was there with firm hands on her biceps, as if they were vice grips, holding her tightly. “Hold still,” Luke snapped when she tried to struggle. “I’m stronger than you. Struggling is pointless.” His voice was cold, hard, and so not like Luke, that Amelia stopped moving completely.

“Amelia, what did you do?” her mother gasped, scanning Amelia from head to toe. Amelia looked up just as she walked through the door, shaking her head in disappointment.

Amelia barely noticed her. “Mitch?” she breathed. She tried to go to him, but Luke held tight. He walked in, and he looked … amazing. Everything about him was sharper. His muscles looked more defined, the stubble on his jaw, darker; Amelia could even make out the individual hairs. His skin was flushed pink, and when she squinted her eyes slightly, she was sure she could see the blood moving under his skin. He was the hottest person she had ever laid eyes on, and he smelled delicious.

“Oh, love,” he said, shaking his head. He stopped just inside the doorway, keeping his distance. His voice held a note of defeat mixed with heartbreak.

Amelia could hear his heart beating, his blood pumping. She tried to break free of Luke’s grip, but it was pointless. A frustrated growl bubbled up in her throat, and brushed through her lips. She looked at Mitchell again, taking in a long, deep breath of his scent, and she noticed something. Something different—something wrong. Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath. She caught Luke’s scent, and immediately she noticed the difference. His blood smelled … stale. But Mitchell’s, it was fresh and new, and it was as if he was wearing a big eat me sign on his chest.

Amelia’s eyes snapped open. “You’re … you’re … ” her brain wouldn’t finish the thought. It just couldn’t. She blinked furiously, and her jaw dropped.

“Human,” he whispered, dropping his eyes.

“Holy crap!” Erin said, skidding into the room. Her jaw dropped, and the way she was looking at Amelia was as if she had never seen her before. “Who changed you?” She shook her head and shifted her gaze to Mitchell. Her jaw dropped further. “Holy crap,” she breathed again, raising her hand to her mouth and gasping.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Eric laughed from the doorway, looking between Mitchell and Amelia. “Don’t you guys ever talk to each other?” Megan was nestled under his arm. His green eyes sparkled with laughter, as they shifted between Amelia and Mitchell. He didn’t seem shocked at all, just amused.

“This is such awesomeness,” Angelle squealed, clapping her hands, but then her eyes fell on Mitchell, and she gasped. Her brow creased, and she blinked a few times as if she was trying to clear her vision, or blink away what she was seeing. “Mitch, what did you do?” she whispered, shaken.

Amelia ignored them all. “The bond … I can’t hear you. I thought you were dead.”

Mitchell looked at her then, and he opened his mouth to speak, but her mother cut in before he could get a word out. “Oh, child, that’s because it has been reset.” She looked past Amelia and said, “Luke, you can let her go.”

Luke dropped his grip. “What do you mean reset?” he asked in an icy tone.

“Mitchell is now marked for Amelia,” Mrs. Caldwell said. Her airy voice should have been soothing, but it wasn’t.

Suddenly, Amelia moved, and then she was standing in front of Mitchell. It happened so quickly that it made her head spin, and she stuck out her arms for balance. Then she saw it, the mark. It looked like a tattoo—an inky figure eight with a solid line passing behind the bottom circle.

“This … this can’t be happening!” she yelled. “How is this even possible? Can’t just one thing go right! How are you even human?” Anger bubbled up inside her, white-hot and blinding. It was consuming, irrational, and she felt a pinch as her fangs snapped down. A reddish film clouded her vision, and she balled her fists. The anger built, coursing through her and burning her veins.

Silky, warm hands cupped her cheeks. “Calm down, love,” Mitchell said firmly. His voice wrapped around her, cocooning her in warmth, and her anger washed away. He tilted her chin up, and smiled. “Your mother, she changed me, love, so I could take you away from all this.” He dropped his hands from her face and waved his arms around, gesturing to their family.

She searched his cerulean eyes. “You’d give up all this for me?”

“Amelia, I’d give up everything for you.” His voice was so full of emotion, so sincere; she knew he was telling the truth.

“What have you done to her?” Josh yelled. He burst into the room and headed straight for Mitchell.

CHAPTER 31

“Josh, stop!” Amelia yelled. But he kept coming at Mitchell, and the look in his eyes was like a rabid dog.

Everything happened in a blur. Josh grabbed Mitchell and slammed him against the wall. He raised his arm, pulling it back, and that’s when Amelia spotted the sharpened, wooden stake in his hand. Energy surged through Amelia, and a red glow surrounded her. She pushed on it, flinging it at Josh, just as he plunged the stake down at Mitchell, and he froze. Josh’s eyes widened and he screamed, and before Amelia could stop herself, she ripped him off of Mitchell, her teeth were embedded in his neck, and she tore out his throat, spitting a chunk of flesh onto the floor. His eyes flicked, rolling back, and he fell.

And just like that … it was over.

Victory felt empty. She expected to feel a sense of triumph or something—anything. But she didn’t. She didn’t really feel anything.

Arms went around her then. They were slow and tentative, and they pulled her closer and closer, until her back was pressed tightly against a solid chest. Lips pressed against her ear, and warm breath puffed against her neck. “Love,” Mitchell whispered, “take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.”

Lola stepped in front of Amelia and said, “It’s over.”

Amelia nodded, unsure of what to say or do, and Lola pulled off one of her layered tank tops and began wiping Amelia’s face as if she was a child, but then she kind of was, Amelia realized. Not just a child, but she was Lola’s child.

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