No.
Scarlet kicked and flailed, but the Ashman pinched her throat tighter and she started to grow lightheaded as she watched her best friend being hauled away to be sacrificed.
Heather had been afraid—very afraid—when she saw the many Ashmen enter the caves. But Gabriel had told her he believed in her and, for some reason, that mattered.
So she’d fought. She fought to see her family again. She fought to help her friends. And she fought so she could one day buy another pair of pink heels that were prettier than the ones she’d lost during her kidnapping.
And killing Ashmen wasn’t so bad. They weren’t nearly as messy as killing, say…something that bleeds. And she hadn’t felt the need to vomit once. If this had been a vampire fight with blood flying around the room, she would have hurled in the corner.
So no throw up and no blood and Heather was fighting beside Scarlet—who was a serious badass with her bow and arrow. W-T-F was that all about?—and holding her own against the creatures coming at her.
But that was when it was only one Ashman at a time. When two had closed in on her, Heather had been lost.
Whose idea was it to let her come fight in this mess? She wasn’t a trained bus thrower like Gabriel, or Robin Hood wannabe like Scarlet, or a ninja assassin like Tristan—she so wouldn’t be surprised if that was his day job—she had no business jabbing butcher knives at supernatural creatures.
When she was taken captive by the two gigantic Ashmen—who Raven probably picked up at the bus throwing gym Gabriel went to—she was terrified. So she totally screamed like a girl. She kicked and yelled and felt hot tears push behind her eyes as the Ashmen carried her through the chamber toward the big, pretty tree.
Were they taking her to Raven? Were they going to kill her?
Bile rose up her throat.
The moment he saw Ashmen pouring into the chamber, Gabriel wanted to hide Heather in a corner. He didn’t know why he suddenly cared for the crazy girl fighting to be lucid, but he did. And he hadn’t cared about anyone—or anything—in centuries.
Heather was different than Scarlet—she was different than any other girl he’d known. And he’d known a lot of girls.
But none of them made him care like she did. She was light and joy and peace and renewal and if he did anything right in this damn cave, he was going to make sure Heather survived.
It was all he could do not to growl when Scarlet insisted Heather fight by her side. Who could better protect Heather than Gabriel? But he trusted Scarlet, so he’d acted like a man and gone off to fight the bad guys alongside Nate—who had not acted like a man.
“Dude,” Gabriel had said. “Quit saying ow every time you get nicked.”
“Nicked? Nicked? I have at least three cuts on my body that merit stitches. And one might even be worthy of full blown surgery.”
“Yeah. But do you have to say ow? Like out loud?”
“They hurt.” Nate had glanced over at Scarlet and Heather for the second time since they’d started fighting and nearly had his head chopped off by an Ashman.
“Scarlet’s got Heather. They’re fine. Concentrate on the zombies, man.”
Nate fought for a moment. “Ow.”
“Dude. Suck it up.”
“Well, maybe if I had my Thor hammer or if someone hadn’t lost my whip, I would be doing a better job. Ow.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes and a scream caught his ear. He turned and caught sight of Heather being hauled toward the tree by two Ashmen, kicking and crying.
Without thinking, he raced across the roots and discarded weapons on the ground and made his way to her. The Ashmen stopped a few feet from the tree, holding Heather as if they were waiting for something.
Gabriel raised one of his blades as he neared her captors, determined to slice them both in one swing. He started to bring his knife down when a sharp pain split through his back and into his chest.
There was a split second of nothing.
Then Heather wailed and somewhere far away was a roar.
Gabriel looked down at the Bluestone arrow protruding from his body and blinked.
“Gabriel,” Heather gasped. “No, no. Gab—“ She choked as she struggled to free herself from the Ashmen.
He stared at her tearstained face and something unfamiliar grew inside him. It filled him up as he fell into blackness. Making him less empty.
Oh.
He wasn’t empty anymore...
Tristan’s sole mission today—as every other day—was to protect Scarlet. Especially since she’d seemed so fearful this morning as he held her.
Someday, he was going to make sure she felt nothing but good things. No fear or sadness.
Just love and hope and all the other things he hadn’t been able to give her all these years.
After the Ashmen had flooded the chamber, Tristan had stood at the top of his rock and provided cover for Scarlet and Heather, while at the same time taking out the clambering Ashmen at his feet.
But then some asshole had thrown a mace at him—really? Throwing maces?—and it had cut him up and knocked him from his perch. Which of course had left him vulnerable to all the other Ashmen who wanted to smash his head in.
He’d gotten a little roughed up, but then he got mad and started taking out the jackass zombies in bulk. He’d been feeling pretty confident when he caught an Ashman charging at him with a mace—ugh, not again—from the corner of his eye.
He turned, but hadn’t been quick enough. Tristan braced for the blow, but before it came an arrow cut into the Ashman’s heart.
He turned to see Scarlet covering him from the center of the room and he beamed. He loved his thief in the woods. The girl archer who stole his deer and his daggers and his shirts was the keeper of his very heart.
He fought for another minute and a piercing scream cut into the room. Scanning the chamber, he found an Ashman gripping Scarlet by the throat as he raised her body in the air.
With fury in his veins, Tristan drew back and shot two arrows into the Ashman’s chest. Scarlet’s throat was released and she dropped to the floor, running toward the tree.
Tristan looked to the tree and saw Heather being held captive by two Ashmen and Gabriel running fast to her rescue.
Tristan drew an arrow to give Gabriel cover and then…
Then…
An arrow pierced Gabriel’s back, impaling him clean through to his chest.
Something was shaking inside Tristan. Some noise was rattling his insides. He didn’t realize he was bellowing into the cavern.
That was his brother bleeding across the room.
That was his brother falling to his knees.
His brother—his best friend—
No.
God, no.
Tristan was moving, but couldn’t feel his legs. He searched for the shooter and saw a flash of silver disappearing into a tunnel.
His insides were hollow and cold as he neared Gabriel, who was now in a heap on the floor, dark red blood spilling from his body. He wasn’t moving or breathing. He wasn’t…anything.
Tristan scanned the cavern for Raven. So help him God, he would rip her jugular from her throat.
He looked back at Gabriel’s bloody body and wanted to die.
With stinging eyes, he stood over Gabriel and swung his weapons in madness as his heart tore open.
Scarlet stared in disbelief at Gabriel’s impaled body.
No.
No.
She ran for Gabriel, but Nate stopped her. Scarlet couldn’t hear or see or breathe as she watched Gabriel drop to his knees.