by Chelsea Fine
“What’s here?” Tristan eyed her closely.
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel and Nate were next to enter the hut.
“What is this place?” Nate looked around.
Scarlet opened up every cabinet in the small kitchen, knocking things aside. She was desperate for any clue as to what, exactly, she was looking for.
Amnesia sucked.
Panting and flushed, Heather was the last member of Team Awesome to barge through the front door, mud coating the bottom half of her heels. “I twisted my ankle, swallowed a fly, and ran through a spider web trying to follow you here, Scarlet. This better be good!”
“It’s good,” Scarlet said automatically. “Or maybe bad. I’m not sure.” She started opening all the windows and knocking on the walls.
“Scar,” Tristan said. “What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know!” Scarlet snapped. “I know how stupid that sounds but…but it’s the truth. There’s something here. I hid something here.” Scarlet frantically walked from one end of the cabin to the other, running out of hiding spots.
Creak.
The floorboard beneath her foot moaned. Scarlet paused. She stepped on it again. Creak.
She knew that sound. It was familiar and personal.
Dropping to her knees, Scarlet started running her hands along the dirty floor.
“What the…?” Heather looked disgusted. “Scarlet, if I ate a bug just so you could wipe the nasty floor with your hands, I’m going to be so mad.”
“Shh!” Scarlet held up a hand as she put her other hand on the floorboard and listened. “Hear that?”
“Uh…no.” Heather said.
Tristan came up behind Scarlet and looked down at the floor. “What are you listening—?”
Snap.
Released from a hidden hinge, the floorboard popped up, revealing an old, metal handle.
Scarlet gasped. “I knew it!” She started tearing at the surrounding floorboards, pulling them up and throwing them aside until a large, square door appeared beneath the floor.
“O-M-G.” Heather inhaled.
“What the hell?” Gabriel squatted down beside Scarlet.
Scarlet pulled up on the handle, but found it stuck. Using all of her weight and strength, she heaved again. The door lifted with a cloud of dust, causing Scarlet to lean back on her heels.
Once the dust cleared, everyone stared down at a dark flight of stairs.
“Holy crap!” Heather jumped back. “Is this some kind of mystery cabin? How did you know these stairs were here?”
Scarlet’s eyes surveyed the steps. “I think…I think I used to live here.” She motioned around the small shack.
Nate shook his head, clearly confused. “What?”
“I don’t know.” Scarlet looked down at the darkness and then ran to the kitchen. When she’d thrown all the cabinets open, she’d seen a few flashlights. Grabbing one, she hurried back to the descending staircase. “But I’m going to find out.”
She started to step down into the darkness.
Tristan grabbed a few more flashlights, passed them out, and they all headed down into the darkness, with Scarlet as their leader.
The stairs were old and weak, moaning beneath the weight of the people climbing down them. After a few steps, Scarlet realized they were in a cellar of sorts. She reached the cellar floor and carefully stepped forward into the small room.
Scarlet lifted her flashlight to light up the area before her. What she found herself looking at was a wall covered with hanging weapons.
Bloody weapons.
Heather sucked in a breath at the site.
Nate said, “Wha…?”
Tristan and Gabriel remained silent.
Scarlet’s eyes widened in disbelief. She knew they were hers. She couldn’t remember her last life, but somehow she knew the deadly, bloody weapons hanging before her were hers.
Scarlet took a step back, overwhelmed with fear. “Who…the hell…am I?”
***************
Tristan was speechless. He blinked. And then blinked again.
Scarlet started to hyperventilate. “Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness—”
“Okay, let’s not panic here.” Heather held up a hand. “It’s really no big deal.” She shrugged, trying to look brave. “So you’ve got a secret arsenal of slightly-used weapons. Hidden in a creepy…and probably spider-infested cellar…in the middle of nowhere. That’s no reason to panic.”
A bat flapped in front of them and Heather yelped.
Scarlet’s eyes began to glow.
Tristan’s eyes began to burn as well, searing into his head with a blaze he couldn’t begin to describe. But the pain immediately stopped.
He saw Scarlet blink as the neon glow disappeared from her eyes. She stared at Tristan. “I had a memory.”
“What do you remember?” Nate asked.
“It was a good memory,” Scarlet answered. “I remember a graveyard.”
Heather tucked her lips in. “That’s not what I would call a ‘good’ memory—”
“No, I mean. It was an important memory.” Scarlet walked over to the weapons and grabbed a blood-coated butcher knife off the wall, looking at the blade curiously.
“What was important about it?” Tristan watched her eye the knife.
“I can’t remember.”
“Of course you can’t.” Heather sighed.
“But the graveyard is in Avalon.” Scarlet started making her way back up the cellar stairs, still clutching the knife. “Let’s go find it.”
Tristan looked at Gabriel.
Gabriel looked at Tristan.
And Scarlet kept walking up the stairs with a bloodstained knife in her hand.
“Uh…Scar?” Tristan tried to sound calm. “You know you still have a knife in your hand?”
Scarlet looked down at the weapon. “Yes. I want to take it with me.”
“Why?” Heather swallowed.
“Um.” Scarlet looked confused. “I don’t know. But I know I want it with me.” Scarlet turned and started back up the stairs.
Gabriel and Nate exchanged a nervous glance before following after her.
Heather pointed at Tristan. “Okay, if my B-F-F goes rogue and starts trying to chop me into pieces, I fully expect your immortal hotness to protect me, got it?”
Tristan raised his eyebrows in response.
Taking a deep breath, Heather followed everyone up the stairs and out of the cellar.
Waiting until they were gone from sight, Tristan grabbed two bloody daggers and a hunting knife off of Scarlet’s wall.
If she was going rogue, so was he.
71
It was Scarlet’s wedding day.
Her servants—because she was now the countess and had servants—helped squeeze her into the dress Gabriel had bought her for the occasion. The skirt was made of layers upon layers of sheer white, sticking out at various angles to make the skirt full and heavy. The top piece was pure lace, with beautiful straps that fell over her shoulders and crossed in the back, and the final adornment was a black corset top.
Scarlet hadn’t worn a corset since she was a young girl, so standing still while she was tied into the corset was difficult. And painful.
Which reminded her why she hadn’t worn a corset in so long.
When she was dressed and ready to be presented, Scarlet looked at herself in her bedroom mirror.
She did not see the girl from the woods. She did not see Ana’s young daughter or a dedicated hunter.
She saw a new woman. A countess.
Which made her proud. And sad.
She shoved the sadness aside and allowed her servants to lead her out to the main hall for the ceremony.
She did not have a whole soul, but she had love.
She thought of Gabriel and smiled. Gabriel was her strength. And today he would be her husband.
***************
By the time Tristan reached his home villa
ge, he was exhausted. He had made the long journey from the monastery by foot and seldom stopped for rest or food.
He was weak, he was dirty, and he was tired.
But the village bustled with news of a wedding that was taking place in the late morning and energy shot through him.
Scarlet and Gabriel were to be married in less than an hour.
He hurried to the castle. Not to stop the wedding. Not to beg Gabriel to give Scarlet back to him. But to see her.
Just to see her.
After the wedding, he would have to go into hiding; he surely could not stay in a town where he was thought to be dead and live peacefully. His father would have his head and the guards would never allow him back into the castle.
But weddings were public occasions and Tristan knew he could sneak inside the main hall and see Scarlet’s sweet face one last time.
Church bells rang in the distance, signaling the end of the morning and Tristan began to run.
72
The sun was setting on the small, quiet downtown of Avalon, Georgia and everything looked perfectly normal.
Everything except for the five teenagers walking into the Avalon cemetery, Scarlet still armed with a bloody butcher knife.
Scarlet knew it looked weird, but she didn’t care. Something was there….something was in the cemetery.
“You know,” Heather started. “This whole scenario sorta reeks of danger. I mean, a graveyard? Really?”
Scarlet took a deep breath and headed toward the cemetery gates that stood ajar. Like they were inviting them in.
Scarlet accepted the invitation and stepped into the green grassy hills of death.
Avalon Cemetery was vast and beautiful. It was slightly hilly, dotted with tombstones, and well-groomed. Birds chirped in the trees that spread their branches out over the departed and colorful flowers laid here and there at various headstones.
Peaceful.
Scarlet carefully walked along the clean sidewalk of the grounds, up the small hills, and along the grass.
Nate looked around as he walked along. “What are we looking for exactly?”
Scarlet’s eyes canvassed the area, hoping a memory would flash. “I don’t know.”
“Ah.” Nate nodded.
Heather turned to Nate with a smile. “It’s like we’re on a memory scavenger hunt. Scarlet gets a clue, grabs a dirty knife, and we follow her to a place filled with dead bodies, hoping to find the next clue.” She looked around at the standing tombs under the fading sunlight. “If it wasn’t so weird, it might actually be fun.”
“It’s not here,” Scarlet said, convinced she was looking at the wrong thing. “This isn’t the right place.”
Gabriel looked at her. “You said the Avalon cemetery.”
Scarlet slowly nodded, still looking around. “But this isn’t what I saw in my mind.”
“What did you see?” Tristan asked.
Scarlet thought for a moment. “I saw…crypts…and broken headstones.” She blinked. “I saw willow trees and overgrown weeds….”
Heather turned her head to Scarlet. “You saw the old cemetery.”
Everyone looked at her.
“You saw the original Avalon cemetery,” Heater explained, nodding her head.
“Maybe,” Scarlet said. “Where’s the original cemetery?”
“It’s in the back,” Heather pointed to the far end of the graveyard. “The way back. Nobody goes there anymore. I think they have it closed off.”
Scarlet headed toward the back. “Then, that’s where we need to go.”
“Of course, it is,” Heather muttered, smoothing her hands down her pink dress.
Everyone followed Scarlet down the sidewalk, over the hills, and to the back of the cemetery, where an old wall stood covered in moss and cobwebs. A small gate stood at the entrance, vines crawling up and down iron bars as it stood propped open to reveal a walled-in acre of broken tombstones, ancient crypts and withered grass. The sad branches of tall willow trees hung into the space, throwing everything into shadows as if it were always nighttime among the graves.
It was like the Secret Garden.
Of dead people.
Scarlet stood outside the open gate with her friends, unsure of what to do next.
Heather shifted. “I’m getting bad vibes about this.”
“Bad vibes about an ancient cemetery?” Nate quipped. “Imagine that.”
“Is this what you saw in your memory?” Tristan asked, stepping forward and eyeing the rundown expanse.
Scarlet nodded. “Exactly.”
Gabriel exhaled. “Then, let’s do this.” He moved forward and walked through the small gate, everyone following behind him.
Once inside, Scarlet was lost. She didn’t know what she was looking for or why she had thought to come there. Her eyes swept along the ancient ground until they caught on something.
In the back, under the darkest of shadows, were mounds of upturned dirt and rows of dug-up graves.
Uh-oh.
Scarlet started walking toward the dirt and everyone followed her.
“Are those…?” Nate swallowed. “Are those dug up graves?”
Nearing the place of shadows, Scarlet nodded. The graveyard was pillaged. Coffins were overturned and empty, and holes where bodies used to rest littered the dying grass.
Lots of holes.
Dozens of holes.
“O…M…G….” Heather gripped Scarlet’s arm as they stared ahead.
“Snowdonia Hawkweed!” Nate announced, pointing a finger into the air.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Gabriel blinked. “You can’t just say random words, Nate. We’re not on the same nerd level as you.”
Nate exhaled loudly. “The proper name for the Liferoot flower Laura has is Snowdonia Hawkweed. And I just remembered what it was used for.” He looked around at the many holes. “Resurrection spells.”
“Resurrection?” Gabriel said. “Raven’s bringing corpses back from the dead?”
“Ew,” said Heather.
“Yes.” Nate nodded. “Liferoot is supposed to raise the dead, but it doesn’t work. Once a soul is gone, it’s gone. Liferoot can only reanimate bodies, not bring back their spirits.”
“You mean like zombies?” Heather’s face looked horrified. “All these corpses are now zombies?” She made a squeaky sound.
“Uh…probably.” Nate looked around.
Tristan cursed as he looked at Gabriel. “I knew it. I knew we should have tracked down Raven’s body back when you ‘thought’ she was dead and burned her alive or something.”
Scarlet swallowed as she lost count of the many empty graves. “What does this mean?”
Nate responded, “It means there are dozens of Ashmen running around Avalon, completely controlled by Raven.”
Scarlet shook her head.
No.
She did not sign up for zombies. She signed up for immortal twins and eternal water. Not witches and zombies and creepy-ass graveyards in the middle of the afternoon—
“Heather!” Gabriel’s voice cut into the air as hands whipped out from behind a crypt and grabbed Heather.
Heather squealed as an Ashman held her in his arms, gripping her so tight Scarlet could tell it was hard for Heather to breathe.
Tristan and Gabriel charged at the Ashman, Tristan reaching for something inside his coat.
Without thinking, Scarlet raised the knife she’d brought from the shack and flung the weapon at the Ashman.
It whipped through the sky, slicing the air as it cart-wheeled toward the soulless creature, and struck the Ashman in the center of his forehead with a gruesome thwack!
The Ashman looked stunned for a moment, before releasing Heather and falling to the ground.
Tristan and Gabriel stopped moving and turned to look at Scarlet.
Heather whimpered as she stepped away from the Ashman’s stiff body, and looked back at Scarlet, her mouth hanging open.
“Did you just…
.?” Heather looked from Scarlet to the dead Ashman with the knife in his head, and back to Scarlet.
Sliding his eyes to back to the Ashman, Tristan said nothing, but Scarlet felt relief rush out of his pores.
Suddenly, the Ashman’s body began to crumble, cracks splitting down the ashy skin covering his tightened limbs. The cracks grew until the crumbles broke off and fell apart, leaving nothing but ash on the cemetery earth.
Scarlet had just killed an Ashman. With a bloodstained butcher knife from her past that she’d thrown with deadly precision and instinctive force.
Scarlet’s hands started shaking as Heather’s big eyes left the ashy remains of her attacker and turned to Scarlet.
“O. M.G.” Heather blinked. “My best friend is a badass.”
***************
Tristan followed everyone out of the old graveyard, into the new one, and back to Scarlet’s car.
“How did you do that?” Gabriel looked at Scarlet.
“I don’t know.” Scarlet was breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”
“That was incredible,” Nate said. “You hurled that knife like a pro. I’ve never seen you do something like that before. Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I have no idea.” Scarlet’s palms were sweaty.
“A better question,” Tristan said, “is, where the hell are the rest of the corpses? If Raven used a spell to bring them back to life to be her little minions, then where is she storing them?”
“Probably in my house somewhere,” Scarlet said. “Like my bedroom closet. Or under my bed. There’s probably an army of Ashmen rifling through my underwear drawer right this minute.” Scarlet made a face. “I can’t believe my guardian is Raven. So lame.”
Nate sighed. “Okay, well now that we know what we’re dealing with—resurrected dead people, fun!—we can make a plan to defend ourselves. Clearly, Scarlet’s weapons can kill the Ashmen. Why? I have no idea. But since Scarlet is some kind of secret ninja with an arsenal of weapons back at the shack I say we go get loaded up on Ashman-killing weapons and confront Laura—Raven—whatever, and figure out how to keep her from, you know, sending killers after us.” Nate looked at Scarlet and shrugged. “And, hey, maybe while we’re at it, we can rinse the blood off your weapons. No offense, Scarlet, but really? Dirty weapons?”