by Chelsea Fine
Gabriel stared at the shiny blade. “What does that mean?”
“It means our intruder has no blood. Which rules out human. Or vampire. Or werewolf.” Nate looked at the sword. “Which is a shame because I totally know how to take down vampires and werewolves. These Ash creatures, though…they’re a whole new monster.”
“Ashmen,” Heather whispered the correction. “O-M-G, O-M-G—”
“Heather.” Gabriel glared at her and she shut her mouth. Looking back at the sword, he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to get a closer look, but a throbbing pain assaulted his rib and he sucked in a breath. More blood gushed from his wound.
Heather squeaked.
Nate shook his head. “You’re not healing at all, dude.”
Gabriel grunted. “That’s impossible.”
Nate inhaled. “Is it?”
Heather kept her eyes on the bloodstained floor, and began practicing—what Gabriel could only assume were—yoga breathing methods. She raised her arms in the air and inhaled deeply, then exhaled with her eyes closed and brought her hands to her chest before repeating the motion.
Girls were so weird.
When ten minutes passed and Gabriel’s wound still hadn’t closed, Nate said, “You gotta stitch it up, man. You’re bleeding too much and it’s really messy.” He looked at the bloody table with a frown.
Sucking air in through his teeth, Gabriel agreed. “Hand me the med kit.”
Nate retrieved the med kit he’d used on Scarlet just weeks before and brought it to Gabriel.
Nate said, “You want me to do it or—”
“No.” Taking several deep breaths to calm his shaky fingers, Gabriel carefully cleaned his wound and began to stitch it closed. Nate was definitely a more practiced doctor than Gabriel, but when it came to sutures, Gabriel and Tristan were just as skilled as their friend. And Gabriel didn’t feel like letting anyone else near the searing pain in his side.
“Are you stitching yourself up?” Heather’s sounded awed.
Gabriel winced. “Yep.”
“That’s scary,” Heather said. “And…kinda hot.”
When he had sewn his flesh back together and covered the wound with a bandage, Gabriel looked at Heather.
She looked terrified. Truly and utterly freaked out.
Her big lips quivered. “Did that Ashman just walk right in and start attacking you?”
Gabriel made a face. “Sorta.”
Nate looked at the hole in the living room wall, then at the tarp on the floor. “Apparently, windows are good at keeping out more than just woodland creatures.”
Gabriel shut his eyes as throbbing pain washed over him again. “The new window is supposed to be here tomorrow.”
“Perfect timing,” Nate muttered. He looked at Gabriel. “So the Ashman has a weapon that can injure an immortal, huh?” He exhaled. “That’s a bummer.”
This realization had settled upon Gabriel sometime between the knife cutting into his side and the two pints of blood that had fallen from his body onto the wood floor. “Yeah.” Gabriel nodded. “And the blade was blue.”
“What?” Nate froze. “Do you think…? Do you think that’s what Bluestone weapons are? Weapons that can injure immortals?”
Dread sucked at Gabriel’s lungs. “That would explain why I’m not healing. Go get the arrow Tristan tried to kill himself with. Let’s check out the tip.”
Nate disappeared down the hallway with a flashlight and quickly returned with the arrow in his hand. He and Gabriel examined the arrowhead in silence.
The tip of the arrow was blue.
Gabriel cursed. “How did we not know about immortal-killing weapons? Where are they coming from?”
Nate shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“That’s so scary,” Heather said. “Does that mean you’re not…you guys aren’t immortal?”
“I don’t know.” Gabriel looked at Nate. “What do you think the Ashman wanted?”
“The map,” Nate said matter-of-factly.
“How can you be so sure?”
Nate shrugged. “It’s the only memory Heather had trouble with. It makes sense. Laura—or whoever—probably snagged the memory and sent the Ashman after the map.”
Heather gasped. “Is this my fault? Am I the reason Gabriel got stabbed?” Her lower lip quivered again. “O-M-G, O-M-G, O—”
Gabriel shook his head. “Of course not.”
“It is.” Heather nodded with sad eyes. “If you guys hadn’t let me join Team Awesome, then I wouldn’t know where the map was and no one would have used a Head Ghost on me and that Ashman wouldn’t have hurt you tonight.”
“Heather.” Gabriel looked at her. “You didn’t do this. An Ashman did this. A curse did this. None of this is your fault.”
Heather covered her mouth with her hands. “Do you think he found the map?”
Nate shook his head. “Nah, it’s up in my room. But he might come back for it.”
Gabriel winced again as he repositioned himself on the table. “So what do we do now?”
Nate twitched his lips as he looked around the bloody kitchen and the wrecked living room. “Find a mop?”
Gabriel stared at him. “What do we do about the Ashman? And the Bluestone weapons?”
“Oh.” Nate took a deep breath. “I have no idea.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Me neither.”
They needed a plan. And manpower.
They needed Tristan.
56
Tristan looked around the dark shack and bit back a curse.
Still seated on the couch, Scarlet looked around. “I don’t suppose you have a generator?” Shadows from the fireplace—the only remaining light in the room—danced on her cheeks.
Tristan exhaled. “Nope.”
His eyes caught on hers and neither of them spoke. Scarlet had remembered what happened between them in her last life. Which wasn’t bad.
But it also wasn’t safe.
If their connection was strong enough to suck him into a flashback with her, then….
Well, then they definitely shouldn’t be having any sleepovers.
He took a deep breath. “Since we won’t have a heater tonight, you can sleep out here by the fireplace and I’ll sleep in the bedroom.”
Yes. That was a good plan.
All he needed to do now was leave. Walk away.
Tristan glanced at the darkened doorway of the cold bedroom that promised him no sleep whatsoever.
Gathering the blanket around her, Scarlet moved from the couch and folded down to the floor in front of the fireplace.
Tristan watched her watching the fire for a long moment.
“It’s peaceful, you know. Watching a fire burn.” Her eyes followed the flames. “Hypnotic, even. The way the flames wrap around what they devour until there is no more to consume. A roaring fire, destined to become quiet embers.”
Looking up at him from her blanket cocoon, Scarlet’s eyes flickered in the firelight. “Wanna sit?”
No.
He needed to leave. He needed to make his feet move him away from Scarlet and into the back bedroom. He did not want to sit.
Tristan sat down beside her.
They watched the flames without speaking for several minutes.
“Do you think it will always be this way?” Scarlet’s eyes stared straight ahead.
Tristan wasn’t sure if she meant the curse or their relationship. But the two were so related it didn’t matter.
He inhaled deeply. “I think…the only thing in this world that is truly immortal is hope. So, no.” He watched a flame lick around a dying piece of wood. “It won’t always be this way.”
Scarlet’s lips parted with a sad smile. Her voice was soft. “Sometimes you say beautiful things.”
He mirrored her broken smile. “Only to you.”
Her blue eyes slid from the fire to Tristan, looking lost and brave at the same time.
God, he loved her.
Their gazes lo
cked for a few moments, before Tristan turned his eyes back to the fire. Scarlet did the same.
She cleared her throat. “Nate thinks your touch erases my memories. He says immortal blood can do that.”
This was news to Tristan. “Is that why he thinks your amnesia is worse this time?”
Scarlet nodded.
Tristan wanted to kick himself. Not only did he kill Scarlet with his touch, but he erased her memories too? He belonged in Hell.
They sat in silence for a while and eventually Scarlet’s eyes grew heavy. She slowly laid down beside Tristan, still wrapped in her blanket as she closed her eyes.
Sleepily, she said, “I know you’re going to leave me.” The fire crackled. “But don’t go, yet.” Her voice trailed off. “Not…yet.”
Tristan looked at her restful face until her breathing became even and peaceful. He had no intention of leaving her.
Not now.
Not ever.
He looked back at the flames and watched the roaring fire burn itself down into embers.
57
The next morning, Scarlet trudged through the wet forest at Tristan’s side as they headed back to the Archer cabin. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, leaving the air clean and crisp. Scarlet stomped as she walked because she was wearing a pair of Tristan’s shoes that were much too giant for her feet.
In her haste the other night, she hadn’t bothered to slip on a pair of sneakers before running to find Tristan, and since Tristan refused to carry her back to the cabin—you could die, blah, blah, blah—Scarlet had settled for a pair of his hiking boots.
She also had on his black leather jacket. Which smelled like him and made Scarlet wish she could attach it to her skin.
They were silent most of the walk, Tristan keeping a good distance between them. Careful, as always.
Well, not always….
Scarlet’s mind drifted back to the flashback of her and Tristan kissing and heat flooded her face.
What a memory. What a wonderful, hot, passionate—
Tristan cleared his throat.
Scarlet stopped reminiscing.
When they finally reached the cabin, Gabriel and Heather met them by the back porch. Heather ran up to Scarlet and hugged the life out of her.
“I’m so happy you’re okay.” Heather pulled back and pointed at Scarlet with a stern face. “Don’t you ever run away again! Do you know how scared I was?”
Scarlet was about to say something sarcastic, but she saw tears in Heather’s eyes and quickly changed her response. “I’m sorry I scared you. I won’t run away again.”
Heather hugged her again. “You better not,” she said into Scarlet’s hair, which was wild and wind-blown from her walk with Tristan.
Heather stepped back and looked Scarlet over.
Scarlet was still wearing her satin pajamas with Tristan’s black jacket hanging below her hips, in addition to his muddy boots. Her hair was tangled and dirty and she didn’t have a trace of makeup on.
Here we go.
Heather looked at Scarlet’s boots, her pajamas, her hair, her face, and said, “I’m happy you’re safe.”
Scarlet blinked.
Heather smiled.
“Oh good.” Nate exited the cabin and stepped off the back porch. “You guys are back and everyone’s alive. Yay. A little update.” Nate tapped a finger to his lips. “An Ashman broke into the cabin last night and stabbed Gabriel with a Bluestone knife that can, apparently, injure immortals, and then ran away, proving tarps are not effective windows and blonds will freak out if enough blood gushes across the floor.” Nate pursed his lips. “Oh, and side note: We need more bleach. At the rate people are bleeding out on the kitchen table, we may as well buy in bulk.”
With a furrowed brow, Tristan looked at Gabriel. “What happened?”
Gabriel explained, “An Ashman stabbed me with a knife that my body couldn’t heal from.” He lifted the edge of his shirt, revealing a large bandage. “It’s fine, but it hurts like hell.”
Scarlet’s face dropped. “Oh my—” She looked at the bandage in horror. “You couldn’t heal?” Gabriel dropped the hem of his shirt. “Are you sure it was a Bluestone knife?”
Gabriel nodded.
Scarlet’s heart began to hammer. “But that means….” She could barely get the words out. “That means Laura has an arsenal of weapons that can kill you guys. And she bought them just a few months ago. Laura…Laura wants to kill you guys?”
Tristan looked angry as he started for the cabin’s back door. “Well, that’s not going to happen. This Ash freak must die. Laura, too. I need knives, arrows, axes—”
“Wait.” Nate held up a hand, stopping Tristan before he reached the door. “It’s awesome that you’re all Rambo about this, but you can’t just go gallivanting in the forest hoping to run into our intruder. You have to have a plan, Tristan.”
“My plan is to kill any and all Ash-people.”
“Ashmen,” Heather corrected.
Tristan raised a brow at her.
Nate shook his head. “That’s not good enough. I stabbed the Ashman and it barely slowed him down. We don’t know how to kill these creatures. We don’t know where they’re coming from, or if Laura is even controlling them. We don’t know anything. “ He paused. “What we need to do is figure out where the fountain is, figure out how to kill these Ashmen, and stick together.” He looked at Scarlet. “So no more solo forest journeys, got it?”
Scarlet nodded.
“But first things first.” Nate clasped his hands together. “Let’s fix the window in the living room and remember to never, ever trust a tarp to keep us safe again, okay?”
Scarlet tried not to panic as she followed everyone inside the cabin.
Laura was trying to hurt Tristan and Gabriel. She was trying to steal Scarlet’s memories.
Laura was her enemy.
***************
Gabriel unwrapped the new windowpane that had come that morning and carried it over to the empty frame in the living room. His wound ached terribly, but it was healing fast.
With Tristan’s help, Gabriel began installing the window.
“So where did you go?” Gabriel asked, his eyes on the window edges as he slid them into place.
Tristan steadied the glass. “I tried to leave town, but I couldn’t physically manage the distance.” He moved his hand to get better balance. “So I stayed on our property.”
Gabriel glanced at him with a raised brow.
“There’s an old shack less than a mile from here,” Tristan explained. “I fixed it up, made it livable.”
Gabriel nodded and started working on the next edge.
“How’s your stab wound?” Tristan switched places with Gabriel, keeping the windowpane secure against his hands.
Gabriel shrugged. “Sore. But shallow. It’s healing more quickly than a mortal’s wound would, so I guess my immortality wasn’t completely jeopardized. So that’s good news.”
Tristan nodded.
A few minutes later, Gabriel finished with the window and carefully stepped back. Tristan released his hold and stepped back as well, both of them looking at the new, secure window.
A moment passed.
Gabriel dusted off his hands. “I’m glad you’re back. Fighting off bad guys with Nate isn’t as fun as it sounds.”
“And it does sound fun.” Tristan smirked. “What did Nate use to protect himself? A light saber?”
Gabriel smiled. “A Zelda sword.”
Tristan shook his head. “Whatever works.” He paused. “I’m glad you didn’t…die or anything.”
Gabriel gave a quick nod. “Me too.” He moved toward the kitchen as Tristan started walking down the hallway.
It was good to have Tristan home.
58
Gabriel saw Scarlet sitting on the sill of the open window overlooking the backfield. Her long hair fell down her back to her waist, and her face was pale and bland. Tristan had been dead for a month.
>
It had been a month filled with sorrow and mourning. It had been a month of hell.
He and Scarlet had not spoken since Tristan’s death was announced. It seemed easier that way; to pass her by and mourn in private; to stay away from someone Tristan had loved.
Gabriel almost passed her by again. He was nearly beyond the window when he paused. Sitting in the window was a girl Tristan had entrusted to Gabriel.
A girl Gabriel had promised to care for.
He slowly walked over and stood behind her. She did not move, did not acknowledge him.
Carefully and quietly, Gabriel climbed into the large window frame and took a seat beside her, his legs hanging down the open side of the frame facing the field.
Scarlet had her legs tucked under her chin, but when Gabriel sat down, she let her legs fall over the sill as he had.
They sat in silence, both looking out at the great field, staring at the unending forest and the dipping sun on the horizon.
It was beautiful.
And it meant nothing.
Gabriel thought back to a time when he and Tristan were young and thought they could race to the sun. They had run and run, and still they could never reach the giant ball of light.
And now they never would.
Taking a heavy breath, Gabriel tried to control the aching in his chest. But some aches could not be controlled. They simply had to…be.
Without a word, Gabriel reached his arm around the girl Tristan had loved. Gabriel wanted her to know he felt her pain. He wanted her to know he cared that Tristan was gone too.
But his voice was broken.
So he sat without speaking.
For a moment, Scarlet did nothing but keep her eyes on the trees.
And then, slowly, she leaned into him and a single tear escaped her eye. Gabriel wrapped his other arm around her and embraced her fully. He gently set his head on top if hers and watched the horizon swallow the sun.
The sun he could never reach.
59
Tristan saw Scarlet enter the living room after changing. She no longer wore his leather jacket or satin shorts, so Tristan was able to breathe again.