Waking Dreams (A Soul's Mark Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page B

willingly give their blood, and in return, Mitchell would
allow them to stay in their homes and protect them as if they were his family. 
And each one of them thanked him.  Actually thanked him for the opportunity he
was providing.  To Eric, it didn’t seem like much of an opportunity . 
They were being forced to become walking meals.  Eric didn’t know whether to be
sick or amazed at the whole thing.
    After Mitchell finished his speech, his
family left the platform and joined the humans for a reception.  But Eric
wasn’t in the mood to chat.  All he could think about was his bed, sleep, and
Megan.  So when no one was looking, he slipped out of the great room and went
straight for his bed.
    Sleep eluded him that night.  Eric lay in
bed, his eyes tightly shut, but yet, his brain would not rest.  Megan’s green
eyes danced through his head, smiling at him and calling to him, but no matter
how hard he tried, her eyes were the only thing that his brain would conjure.
    He sifted through his memories, trying to
recall what story Mitchell could have been referring to earlier as he spoke to
Lola and Angelle.  In the last two weeks since Eric had become a vampire, he
had heard countless “stories.”  Mitchell called them lessons , except to
Eric, they were more like boring and pointless rules.  And since Eric had never
really been a rules kind of person, he had promptly ignored them.
    Now though, he wished he had listened.
    Eric couldn’t say how long he had lain there,
when he heard the knock at his door.  “Eric?” Mitchell called from behind his
bedroom door.  Eric groaned, and the door slid open.  “I heard that,” his
father said with a chuckle.
    Eric sat up in bed and scrubbed at his
face.  “I was sleeping,” he said, trying to sound groggy and hoping Mitchell
would just go away.
    He didn’t.  Mitchell closed the door with a
soft click and crossed the room, sitting down in the armchair beside the
window.  He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, and his chin in
his hands.  “Was it her?” he asked elusively, his voice a confusing mix of pain
and happiness.
    “What are you talking about?”  Eric was
sure he was looking at Mitchell as if he was a mad man.  He was really starting
to think that he would never get used to Mitchell’s direct and slightly elusive
attitude.  The way he spoke, even when asking a question, was as if everything
was a secret.  Except this time, Eric knew exactly what Mitchell was asking,
but his gut was telling him to keep his mouth shut and play dumb.
    “Did she have the mark?”  Mitchell asked,
his eyes boring into Eric so intently that he felt as if Mitchell was actually
seeing into his brain.
    “You know I was just sleeping, right?” Eric
asked.  He didn’t understand why, but he didn’t want to share Megan.  He just
didn’t.  Not with anyone.  At this point, he was certain that they were all
just speculating, at what, he really wasn’t sure, but they didn’t really know
anything—yet.
    “Oh, give it up, Eric,” Mitchell said. 
“You weren’t sleeping.  Did she have the mark on her neck?”
    Eric threw up his hands, exasperated, this
time really having no idea what Mitchell was asking.  “What mark?”
    Mitchell eyed him again, and Eric figured
that Mitchell had finally realized that Eric had no idea what he was talking
about, because he let out a deep sigh and leaned back in the chair, letting his
arms dangle over the armrests.  “Eric, I’m asking if she had the soul’s mark.” 
His tone was crisp and clipped.  “But clearly, you must not have been listening
when I told you about it.”
    A frustrated growl rumbled through Eric. 
“Well, tell me now,” he said through clenched teeth.  “What is the soul’s mark
and what does it have to do with Megan?”  Darn it! Why did I say her name!
    Mitchell arched an eyebrow and smirked. 
“Megan?” he questioned.
    Eric growled in frustration, and all he
could see was