Avow 3

by Chelsea Fine

Nate shrugged. “I don’t know. But I love how you’re obviously more scared of bears than Ashmen and witches. It bodes well for you on this trip. Peace out, lovers. I’m off to find some long underwear. Try not to make any babies while I’m upstairs. You’d think I wouldn’t even have to say that, but seeing as you two were halfway to Babytown when I walked in here—“

  “Just shut up and go pack,” Tristan said.

  “Ooh, feisty.” Nate shook his head at Scarlet. “Tristan doesn’t like it when I talk about you guys having sex.”

  “Neither do I. Geez.” Scarlet was blushing as she shooed Nate from the room.

  Nate exited and Tristan and Scarlet spent the next half hour lacing arrows in blood and not making eye contact.

  Nate had said “sex” and now the whole room felt like a sauna of forbidden tension. Just for that, Tristan was going to decapitate one of Nate’s Star Wars figurines. It was happening.

  Scarlet cleared her throat for the third time since they’d been alone.

  “What’s up?” Tristan dipped an arrowhead in the bowl of blood they had set up on the table between them.

  She sighed “Can’t you just think about sex like a normal guy?”

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “How are you not thinking about sex right now?”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking about.”

  “Yeah, but I know what you’re feeling. And you’re feeling…happy. Where’s all the desire and want?”

  He picked up another arrow. “Are you seriously mad at me right now because I’m not having lustful thoughts?”

  “No. I’m just confused. I mean, I’m thinking about sex. But you’re over there coating arrows in blood and thinking about God knows what—“

  “Star Wars figurines.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I was thinking about.”

  She blinked in confusion. “Star Wars figurines make you happy?”

  He smiled and went back to the arrows on the table. “No. You make me happy. My happy feelings are because of you. My desire and want feelings—which I have plenty of—are also because of you, but I have those contained right now because I’m trying not to overwhelm you with emotions.”

  “Oh.”

  “Trust me,” he grabbed another arrow. “You don’t want me to think about sex when you can feel my emotions. It’s very intense. I could barely handle it with you and I had five hundred years of practice.”

  She shot her eyes to him. “What are you trying to say? That I’m some kind of baby? I can handle it.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Try me.”

  This was a dangerous game, but since only his life was at stake…

  “Okay.” He shrugged and started thinking about sex. With Scarlet.

  He watched as she stood frozen and the color drained from her face as everything he felt rolled into her. Then bright red color returned to her face and she looked like she might catch fire. He kept his eyes on her as his feelings stayed in the hottest parts of his being.

  She looked at him with hungry eyes and moved her mouth to speak but no sound came out. He watched her breathing grow heavier. She dropped the arrows she held and stared at him.

  He changed his pattern of thought and tried to calm his emotions so she wouldn’t do anything she regretted.

  Once his thoughts were back on happy non-sexual things, he glanced at Scarlet, who was still frozen in place with red cheeks and parted lips.

  “Scar?” He leaned to the side to look in her far away eyes. “You okay?”

  She mouthed something and nodded, then tried again. “Yeah.” Her voice cracked. She was staring at the wall with big eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m good. I’m great.”

  He went back to the arrows and smiled. “Told you.”

  Scarlet blinked a few times and looked at Tristan. “We definitely need a chaperone.”

  ***************

  Heather frowned at her pink dress—now stained with blood from her busted nose—as she sat kitty-corner from Gabriel in the back of one of Raven’s evil kidnapping vans.

  Of course the witch had a sinister black van with taped off windows and no back seats.

  Of course.

  Heather didn’t know where they were headed but the road they’d been traveling on for the past hour was super bumpy and whoever was driving the black van of doom—she couldn’t tell since she and Gabriel were partitioned off from the front seat like this was some kind of creepy limo—wasn’t making an effort to drive smoothly.

  Gabriel was staring at her again.

  He’d been glancing at her like a guilty puppy ever since Raven had clocked her in the face, and it was all Heather could do not to snap at him to quit looking at her like she was a broken doll.

  Though that’s how she felt. Broken. Dirty.

  She was like the one-armed Barbie with nappy hair at the bottom of the toy box—the Barbie that always ended up in the trash by the banana peels and smelly diapers.

  She looked around the van. Boxes filled with what looked like camping gear took up most of the van’s back interior, leaving only a few feet of space for Heather and Gabriel to sit restrained.

  Both their wrists and ankles were bound again. Raven had overseen the knot-tying herself this time, so the ninja knots were extra tight and impossible.

  Gabriel leaned against the back door of the van. He was still shirtless and the Bluestone cut that marred his chest was just as split open as it had been yesterday, but no longer bleeding.

  His giant body took up most of the space they shared and, even though he tried to keep himself contained against the wall, the nonstop bumps in the road kept shifting him closer to her, so every once in a while, their legs would knock into each other.

  They hit another bump and she winced as her bruised face throbbed with the jolt.

  Concerned eyebrows lowered over the brown eyes beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, not wanting his pity.

  She closed her eyes as they rode along, thinking about her odds of survival. Would Raven hand Heather over to Scarlet? Or would Raven get the map and then kill Heather? Or would Raven kill Scarlet? And Gabriel? And anyone else who showed up?

  The dire reality of her situation sank in and Heather felt her lip tremble. She had told her parents she was staying with Scarlet for the week, so no one would come looking for her. Her escape attempt with Gabriel had failed and now they were being hauled off into God-knows where with a posse of Ashmen who were probably going to slaughter them. And Heather would never see anyone she loved again.

  A hot tear fell down her cheek as she thought of her family; her happy parents and her annoying brothers and her sweet little sister. She hadn’t loved them enough. She hadn’t appreciated them enough. She thought of all the things she’d never get to do; all the places she’d never get to see.

  Another tear fell and Heather gave into the gloom she’d been fighting for the last twenty-four hours.

  “Hey,” Gabriel said softly. “Don’t cry. We’re going to be fine.”

  Hearing the plea in his voice just made her cry harder. “No, we’re not.”

  “Yes, we are. Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at Gabriel’s blurry face through her tears.

  He smiled. “I’m Fierce Jaguar, remember? I’m not going to let anything happen to us.”

  She huffed out a sad laugh. “I thought you didn’t have a code name.”

  “Well after our kickass escape attempt, I figured a code name was in order.” He tilted his head, still smiling. “You were pretty amazing back there with your epic temper tantrum.”

  “Yes, well.” She sniffed and the sharp smell of blood swirled inside her wrecked nose. “I have a little sister so I’ve seen my share of pouty throw downs.” The thought of Emily’s little face and blond curls brought tears back to Heather’s eyes.

  Gabriel looked panic
ked. “And what about your badass scissor skills? You took out that Ashman without batting an eye. You were like Lara Croft.”

  She sniffed again. “I would be a pretty awesome tomb raider.”

  “No doubt.”

  “But my boots would be pink.”

  “Of course.” His crooked grin went sincere. “But seriously. You were pretty amazing today.”

  Heather didn’t feel amazing at all. “Maybe next time we get kidnapped and try to escape, we should check for black vans first.”

  He nodded. “Good call.”

  Another bump in the road had her wincing again.

  “Sorry I got you punched in the face today,” Gabriel said.

  She shrugged. “It happens.”

  He was still all guilty-looking, so Heather tried to lighten the mood. “How do I look with my bloody nose and swollen lip?” She tilted her face to one side, then the other, mock posing for his appraisal. “Sexy? Drop dead gorgeous?”

  “You look…” he tilted his head, “brave.” He paused. “You are brave.” His features hardened and Heather realized he wasn’t joking.

  Pride expanded in her chest.

  She leaned against the van wall. “Well, hopefully my bravery can last through my new drug addiction and the consequential withdrawals I’m sure to be experiencing shortly.”

  He nodded. “You can handle it, Tomb Raider.”

  She shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “I know.”

  The van went over another bump and made a sharp turn, throwing Heather into Gabriel and causing them both to topple over. Heather landed on top of his bare chest.

  His hot skin burned against her tear-stained cheeks and she immediately tried to wiggle her way off of him. Her bound wrists and ankles made it difficult for her to wiggle effectively, though, and the back of the van was too cramped for either of them to rollover completely.

  Just when she’d scooted down to his stomach where there was more room to move, the van turned again, shoving her right back up his chest. Gabriel had his bound arms raised above her, hanging out in the air like he didn’t know where to put them.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. With her hands pinned between them—and her arms accidentally brushing against several parts of his body—Heather started wiggling all over again.

  “Heather?” Gabriel said, his arms still frozen in the air.

  She wiggled down his chest until her face got to his stomach. Why were his abs so big? That couldn’t be normal. Or healthy.

  “Heather,” he said again.

  “What?” she started scooting again.

  “Stop wiggling,” he said. “Please.”

  She froze, tucking her lips in as she stared at the very large ab muscles right by her face.

  “Okay,” Gabriel said calmly. “I’m going to hold you against me and sit us both up. So try to keep your face away from my body so I don’t hurt your nose, okay?”

  Heather nodded at the ab muscle.

  “And for the love of God,” he added, “don’t wiggle.”

  “No wiggling. Right. Got it.”

  Gabriel’s arms came down around her, his elbows bending so he could press her against him and he pulled her back up his body so she was now staring at his oversized pec muscles. Did he moonlight as a bodybuilder?

  She shifted her nose away as instructed, turning her chin up so she was now staring at his face. At close proximity.

  Very close proximity.

  The van went over a few more bumps and their tangled bodies knocked together. Gabriel gritted his teeth and Heather bit back a smile.

  She shifted her face again and her nose brushed against his skin.

  “You smell good?” she accused. “How is that fair? You’ve been beaten and stabbed and kidnapped. You should at the very least smell like misery and hopelessness. Not,” she sniffed his chest again, “mountain rain or whatever the crap this is.”

  His arms loosened around her. “Are you seriously smelling me right now?”

  “Well maybe if you didn’t smell like a meadow—“

  He sniffed her hair.

  “Um, W-T-F, Gabriel?” She made a face at him.

  “Why do you always smell like cupcakes? Hold still.” He took a deep breath and Heather’s body lifted as his chest filled with oxygen. She felt his body tense beneath her for a brief moment, and then he tucked her against him, twisted slightly to the side, and pulled them both up into a sitting position with his oversized abs of steel.

  His arms were still around her body as they righted themselves and shifted into a haphazard sitting position. He slowly raised his arms back over her head, careful not to brush her nose as he did so until they were no longer tangled together.

  Their eyes locked for a super awkward second and they both scooted in opposite directions, going back to their respective sides of the van. Not looking at each other.

  Their bumpy trip continued, but the bumps were less awkward now that no body parts were rubbing together.

  ***************

  Scarlet growled when her seatbelt wouldn’t come undone. “I hate your car, Tristan.”

  They had just arrived at the forest and Nate was already out of the car and digging through the trunk for his gear. Because his seatbelt wasn’t the spawn of Satan.

  “Here, let me do it.” Tristan reached over and brushed her hand away from the demon clasp.

  A zing of pleasure skittered up her arm at his touch and she really wanted him to touch her again.

  No she didn’t.

  Yes she did.

  He easily undid the belt buckle and freed her hips.

  “Thanks,” she said, giving the seatbelt one last dirty look before climbing out of the car.

  She and Tristan went to the trunk and started pulling out their supplies as well.

  Their trip to Avalon forest had gone by swiftly. After leaving the cabin, they’d stopped by Laura’s house, which was technically still Scarlet’s house, but it no longer felt like home to her.

  She expected to be sad and emotional when she walked inside, but instead she felt…nothing. So she ran around and packed up clothes and shoes for herself and Heather and then she left Laura’s house without looking back.

  “Don’t you guys just love road trips?” Nate smiled as he shrugged into his backpack.

  “Meh,” Scarlet said.

  Tristan shrugged.

  “Well, I love road trips. Molly and I used to go on road trips all the time. We would pack up the car and just drive—without a plan. We’d just go and go wherever the roads took us.” Nate kept smiling. “It was awesome. Freeing, you know? And we’d listen to music and sing off key and talk until all hours of the night.” He nodded. “I love road trips.”

  Scarlet smiled. She liked it when Nate talked about Molly. It made her feel hopeful. Like maybe Nate wasn’t permanently broken. Maybe he would find love again. Did he want to find love again?

  Scarlet secured her backpack to her shoulders and strapped a quiver to her back as Tristan armed himself with more weapons than she knew a person could carry at one time.

  Grabbing her compound bow and throwing it over her shoulder, she then tucked two knives into her waistband.

  Tristan was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt—which was like his uniform, apparently—as he threw his own backpack on and started clipping things into place.

  Tristan shut the trunk and looked at Scarlet. “So what’s the plan?”

  “We’ll hike about a mile in to the cluster of large boulders where Raven and I met in my last life. Hopefully, that’s where Heather will be.” And Gabriel.

  Scarlet’s palms started to sweat. “If we come up from behind the rocks, I think we’ll have a better chance of viewing the meeting place without being seen. We can scope it out and see what our chances are of rescuing Heather without negotiating the map.”

  “Awesome.” Nate grinned. “This is like epic camping. With bad guys.”

  “And potential
death,” Tristan added.

  “I know.” Nate nodded, still grinning. “Epic.”

  Scarlet took a deep breath and started for the trees. The last time she’d set foot in this forest, she hadn’t come out alive.

  Guilt pressed against her lungs as she glanced at Tristan.

  History was about to repeat itself.

  CHAPTER 37

  Gabriel and Heather were tethered to a handful of Ashman with leashes made of rope.

  Like dogs.

  The Ashmen led them through the forest with Raven as their leader.

  Gabriel counted only twelve Ashmen in their immediate vicinity—all of whom had Bluestone weapons. Where were the rest of her minions?

  Gabriel could probably take the nearest Ashmen out and attempt another escape, but he didn’t want to invoke the wrath of Raven and risk hurting Heather again.

  Raven’s black hair swished across her back as she walked ahead of Gabriel and he noticed the Ashmen were loaded up with camping gear. Lots of camping gear.

  How long did Raven plan on being out here?

  Heather stumbled against her leash but quickly resumed her walking. He looked at her cut up bare feet and frowned.

  “So Raven,” Gabriel tried to sound casual and friendly. “Where are we going?”

  “Why are you talking?” she snapped.

  “Because you forgot to gag me.” He stretched his neck. “How much longer until we get to wherever we’re headed?”

  Raven whipped around and marched up to Gabriel.

  “Whoa…” he said, caught off-guard by her appearance.

  Raven looked older. Much older than she had a few hours ago.

  Her dark hair was graying at the roots, the skin around her eyes was crinkled and weathered, and her cheeks were a bit sunken.

  She no longer looked thirty. She looked fifty.

  “It’s not pretty, is it?” Raven sneered. “I need that fountain now! And if you keep whining like a toddler I will break your neck over and over again until you beg to be mortal!” She screamed this at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the trees around them. “We will get there when we get there!”

  Gabriel stared at the clearly-insane witch, speechless. Beside him, Heather looked terrified.