“I what?” Scarlet’s eyes grew. “Why would I do that?”
“That’s a good question.” Nate scratched the back of his head. “You, uh…you were kinda secretive in your last life.”
“I was?” Scarlet was more confused than ever.
Nate said, “Yeah. You were just a little guarded. I mean, you handed me that brooch without any explanation—”
“And you hid the arrow that could kill an immortal.” Tristan looked at her.
“And you stole a bunch of weapons…” Gabriel thought for a moment. “And some blood from Nate’s medical stash.”
Scarlet whipped her head around and stared at Gabriel.
“Ew,” Heather wrinkled her nose at Nate. “You collect blood? That’s nasty.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “I don’t collect blood. I keep samples of our blood for experiments. Primarily, to try and figure out how to heal Scarlet.”
Heather muttered, “Still gross.”
Scarlet shook her head. “I…I ran away? I stole weapons? I stole blood?”
I sound like a psychopath.
Scarlet dropped her head into her hands. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would I do those things?”
Without warning, the world began to spin and Scarlet’s eyes began to burn.
It was a heat worse than ever before, singeing her irises from the inside out.
“Scarlet?” Gabriel’s voice, filled with alarm, floated into her ears, but she couldn’t see him through the fire in her eyes.
“What’s happening?” Heather’s voice, just as fearful as Gabriel’s, came up behind Scarlet. “Scarlet? Are you okay?”
In an instant, the heat dissolved and Scarlet’s vision returned. As if nothing had happened.
Except something had happened. Scarlet’s eyes had flashed.
Nate was in Scarlet’s face, examining her eyes. “Can you see me?”
“Yes.” Scarlet blinked. “Are my eyes…are they glowing?” She looked around the room at the concerned faces of her friends and her hands began to shake.
At the far end of the room, Tristan stood with a pale face, fear pulsing out of him.
Scarlet looked at Gabriel. “Are my eyes okay?”
Standing beside her, Gabriel placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Your eyes are…very blue.”
“No. It’s too soon. I just came back to life!” Scarlet turned to Nate. “I can’t be sick yet. It’s not possible. Right? I’m fine. Right?”
Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness.
Nate pursed his lips. “Your eyes flashed, Scarlet.”
“Her eyes flashed?” Heather’s voice was shaky. “What does that mean?”
Nate pressed his lips together. “It means—”
“It means my heart is breaking,” Scarlet answered, frustrated, scared and angry. “I’m starting to die.”
26
Tristan threw items into his worn duffel bag at warp speed. He didn’t have a plan, but he knew he had to leave.
He had to remove himself from Scarlet’s presence immediately.
Gabriel was right.
Tristan hated that Gabriel was right.
Zipping up the contents of his bag, he threw the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a jacket, and headed upstairs.
Everyone was in the kitchen, panicking and plotting. Feeling for Scarlet, he sensed that she had calmed down a bit, which eased his fear slightly.
Not much, though.
In the next room, Gabriel sounded stressed out and Heather was completely hysterical.
Tristan had to leave before he made things worse.
He’d just stepped out the front door when Nate’s voice came from behind him. “Where are you going?’
Tristan paused. “Away.”
Nate raised an eyebrow.
Tristan swallowed. “Scarlet’s getting worse. I have to go.”
“So, what? You’re just going to ditch us?”
“Yep.”
Nate took a step forward. “Dude—“
Tristan didn’t look back as he shut the door behind him and disappeared into the night.
27
Ana Jacobs heard footsteps outside the door of her hut and assumed it was Scarlet and Tristan returning from the forest. But when she turned to the door, Ana stopped short and her heart skipped a beat.
Francis.
“Hello, little sister,” said her only sibling. Everything about him looked healthy and strong. Except his eyes. His eyes looked hungry. Violent. Dead.
“How did you find me?” Ana was careful not to sound afraid.
Wearing leather and cotton, Francis looked well-off. But the jug strung at his hip, no doubt filled with blue water, told Ana otherwise. He cocked his head at an abnormal angle. “Desperate men can do anything.”
Yes. She knew this.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“You know what I want.” Francis stepped forward, gripping Ana by the sleeve of her dress. “Where is the map?”
Even though Ana had returned the blue water to Francis and William, she refused to let them have complete access to the very thing that stole their souls. So she had stolen Francis’s map and hid it away.
Ana kept her chin high. “You are poisoned and black inside. I will not help you.”
“You will!”
“I will not!”
He slapped a hand across her face and demanded, “You will give me what’s mine!”
Ana rubbed her face and stared at him defiantly. “Never.”
Francis released her sleeve, stepped back, and cocked his head to the side again. “Then you leave me no choice.” With a forceful blow, he ran his fist into Ana’s face, knocking her to the ground and sucking the air from her lungs.
Ana’s head hit the hard floor and blackness closed in around her as she started to lose consciousness.
Tristan lay on the riverbank with Scarlet in his arms. After a long and unsuccessful day of hunting, he and Scarlet had gone for a swim and now lay together watching the afternoon sun glint off the river.
Scarlet was draped across his bare torso, tracing circles against his skin with her finger. Her long hair flowed over his chest and down to the grass beneath them, lifting slightly in the soft wind.
Tristan kissed the top of her head and ran a hand down her back. She was so small and soft and tough and brave…and she was forever in his heart. There was nothing he could do to remove her, even if he wanted to.
Which he never would.
Scarlet picked up a newly-fallen leaf beside them and bent it over in her hand, breaking the leaf in half. A dark green syrup oozed from where the leaf split and ran down Scarlet’s thumb.
She turned her head to him and gave a mischievous smile.