“Yes,” she said.
“No,” Tristan said at the same time. He flipped a pancake before turning around. “Scarlet was in pain all night because she wouldn’t let me sleep with her.”
Nate coughed on a bite of Lucky Charms.
Scarlet pursed her lips. “And Tristan slept outside my door because he’s trying to die.”
Nate struggled to swallow his bite. “Sounds like you both need a time out. Or maybe a twenty-four hour chaperone.”
“No. Tristan just needs to get over the fact that distance from him causes me pain,” Scarlet snapped.
“Yeah. That’s not going to happen.” Tristan whistled as he flipped a few more pancakes.
Scarlet looked at Nate and sighed. “Would you talk some sense into him? Please?”
Nate stopped chewing and watched Tristan set a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of Scarlet with a fork.
”What are you doing?”
Tristan smiled at him. “Want some pancakes?”
“See?” Scarlet said to Nate, exasperated. “We have a serious situation at hand and Tristan’s over here whipping up breakfast pastries like our friends’ lives aren’t at stake.” She took a bite—um, delicious.
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you’re mad I’m feeding you.”
Scarlet swallowed her bite and glared at him. “I’m totally mad.”
Tristan grinned as he sat down beside her and started eating his own pancakes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Nate looked at Tristan. “Are you—are you smiling?”
“Yes, he is,” Scarlet said incredulously. “And he’s sitting next to me—right next to me—like I’m not death with a fork.” She lifted said fork and pointed at his pancakes. “Are those blueberry?”
“Never fails,” Tristan muttered, sliding his plate toward her. “You always want blueberry.”
“No, I don’t.” She shoved his plate back and took a purposeful bite of her chocolate chip pancakes.
“I’m so confused.” Nate shook his head. “What’s happening here?” He waved his spoon around at Tristan. “Why are you whistling and making breakfast? Why are you doing happy person things? This is very unsettling. ”
Tristan shrugged.
Scarlet said, “He’s happy because his touch no longer hurts me—even though my touch can now hurt him,” she looked at Tristan before reaching over and taking a bite of his blueberry pancakes. “Could you try not to be so jolly that our roles are reversed?”
“Nope.” Tristan smiled.
Nate kept blinking.
“So we’ll leave for Laura’s soon?” Scarlet took another blueberry bite from Tristan’s plate. “Hopefully we’ll find a clue as to where Raven would keep prisoners.”
Tristan scooted his chair closer to Scarlet’s and she glowered at him.
“Yes. Hopefully,” Nate said slowly. He’d stopped eating his cereal and watched Tristan in bewilderment. “There were a few things I wanted to check online, but after that we’ll leave.”
Scarlet reached for another blueberry bite and Tristan wordlessly switched their plates so Scarlet had the blueberry pancakes in front of her.
“We should probably go back to the shack and grab a few more bloodstained weapons as well.” Tristan took a bite of the chocolate chip pancakes that were now his property.
Nate shook his head. “Ah, yes. I almost forgot about Scarlet’s creepy wall of bloody weapons.” He glanced at Scarlet and took another bite. “Is there any explanation for that?”
“Yep.” She finished the rest of the pancakes formally known as Tristan’s and stood from her seat. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, I want to focus on Gabriel and Heather. So can you please hurry with your internet searches so we can get going?”
Nate shrugged. “Sure, let me just slip out of my bathrobe,” he gave them a pointed look, “and we’ll be on our way.”
As Nate left the kitchen, stress seeped into Scarlet’s limbs. She was worried about Heather and nervous about Raven having Gabriel and there was absolutely nothing she could do about. Except wait.
She needed a distraction.
Looking around the cabin, Scarlet got an idea and headed out the backdoor.
Finding Tristan’s array of bows set up against the side of the cabin, Scarlet chose one of the compound bows leaning in the shadows and grabbed a quiver of arrows from a hook a few feet above.
God love Tristan and his arrow organization.
Walking to the post she’d shot from before—back when she was Amnesia Scarlet and didn’t think she knew what she was doing—she strapped the quiver to her back and took out a single arrow.
Pulling back on the powerful bow in her hands, she aimed and let loose, watching the arrow cut through the air and find a faraway bull’s-eye.
She could already feel the stress leave her body.
She shot for a few more minutes in silence.
The back door opened and Tristan stood on the porch, watching her.
“Did you come to smile and be cheerful?” she asked him.
“Maybe.” He took a seat on the porch steps and rested his forearms on his knees. “Or maybe I just like watching you shoot things.”
She smirked at him and let another arrow fly.
He cleared his throat. “Are you going to be okay going back to Laura’s house—your house—today?”
Scarlet paused for a moment, the bowstring pulled back against her taut muscles. Would she be okay?
She let the arrow fly. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had time to process the whole my-guardian-was-a-semi-bad-guy thing. I still don’t know how I feel about her death. Laura took good care of me, but she was also working for Raven, so…I don’t know what to think. Do I miss her? Do I hate her?”
Do I care either way?
Scarlet swallowed and pulled another arrow from the quiver. Tristan’s eyes followed the arrow as she shot.
“It’s okay to do both, you know,” he said. “To miss Laura and hate her at the same time.”
Scarlet looked at Tristan for a long time and every fiber of her being wanted to climb into his arms and cry and yell and mourn and cuss.
She was so not summertime Play-Doh.
“Hey guys?” Nate called from the back door, walking out onto the porch with a horrified-slash-perplexed expression. “You might want to come see this.”
Putting the bow and arrows away, Scarlet followed Tristan inside the cabin as Nate led them to the front door.
There, on the front porch, stood an Ashman.
But instead of a Bluestone weapon in his hand, he held a piece of paper.
Uh…?
“He just rang the doorbell. Like a dead mailman,” Nate said.
Tristan made a face. “And you answered it?”
“Well, yeah. How was I supposed to know it was an Ashman?”
“I don’t know, the peephole maybe? What’s on the paper?”
Nate chewed on his lip. “I’m half afraid he’s going to start singing and do a jig if we take it from him. Like a really creepy singing telegram.”
Tristan snatched the paper from the Ashman’s rigid hands and looked it over. “It’s a ransom note from Raven. Addressed to Scarlet.” He handed the note to Scarlet and they all peered over her shoulder as she read.
The fountain for your friend. Meet me where I you died in your last life. Sunset tonight.
Nate reread the note. “The fountain for your friend…does Raven mean Heather? What about Gabriel?”
Scarlet’s palms started to sweat and her heart pounded. Gabriel. She had to save Gabriel.