At this, Tristan lifted up his face (he’d stopped crying) and cursed. Not at Edie, but at his brother. “You’ll never keep your hold on me for long. I’ll overpower you and your harlot,” he vowed and insulted, looking over his shoulder at Arianna. “What does Adrian think of your betrayal, hmm?” Tristan smiled crookedly. “I know he heard me talking earlier.”
Arianna was silent. Now Edie knew Tristan had been telling the truth. Arianna looked ashamed. Edie knew that look only too well. She’d felt it creep up on her face, after she’d kissed Tristan, and then later, when she’d admitted that she’d liked it. It seemed no matter how malicious he was, no matter his crimes, neither Arianna nor Edie could completely resist him. He had all the looks of an angel, but the temperament of a demon; a lethal combination.
If Lucifer had a son, it would be Tristan Lockhart.
Adrian, unlike his brother, wasn’t easily swayed to the dark side. With his other hand, Adrian cupped Arianna’s cheek, caressing it. “I told you. I forgive you, my love. Don’t listen to him. He’ll keep this up all eternity. You must be strong, okay?”
Arianna nodded and gave him a small smile. “Okay,” she agreed.
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Forgiveness,” he spat, as if the word were poison on his tongue. He looked at Edie. “Can you believe these two idiots? Edie, you can’t leave me with them. They’ll annoy me to death—pun intended. Please, save me!”
Edie advanced and stood above him, staring down into his dark, blue eyes. “If I thought you were worth saving, I would, Tristan, but you’re beyond redemption.”
He growled and threw her sweater on the floor, as if it were now, garbage. “You’re nothing but a hypocrite. You call yourself a Christian when your heart’s as hard as stone. You think God looks favorably down upon you? You think the angels are singings your praises? Well, they’re not! A liar is equated with a murderer, Edie, don’t you forget that! We’re one and the same. Romans 3, verse 23: ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’”
She was reminded of the time when she and Uncle Landon had spoken about life and immortality; the maze and the chapel on that cold winter night. Her uncle and Tristan had one thing in common: they’d been in competition with their brother over the love of the same woman. Where they vastly differed was how they’d handled their loss: Her uncle ran away. Tristan committed murder.
Edie crouched before Tristan. “You’re not the only one who can quote Scripture,” she said, and then quoted what he hadn’t: “Romans 3, verses 24 and 25: ‘and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished.’”
Tristan was on the verge of crying. “Even the Devil can quote Scripture.”
Alas, he was forever stubborn.
“Am I the Devil?” she asked him, wondering what he truly thought of her.
Tristan gave her a crooked, humorless smile. “No. I met him once. He didn’t want me, either.” He started to cry, tears falling down his cheeks.
She cupped his cheeks with both hands, so hot to the touch, and took her thumbs, wiping the tears away. “I forgive you,” she said. She meant it, feeling a great weight lift off her shoulders, but she never, ever wanted to see him again.
She let go of him, stood up, and then nodded at Adrian and Arianna. “Thank you.”
“Go,” Arianna said.
“Be at peace,” Adrian added.
She gave them a farewell smile, and then looked at Tristan. He’d stopped crying.
“Goodbye,” she told him.
His eyes were dark, the lapis lazuli almost appearing solid black. He looked absolutely evil. “I’ll find you, Edie. Wherever you are, I’ll find you. One day, I’ll be free of my keepers, and on that day, I’ll come looking for you. You won’t be able to hide. We’re bound to each other, forever. You’re mine and I’m yours, remember?”
That was the truth, so she nodded to him in agreement, promising to always remember. They were tied together, no matter the distance. Their connection had nothing to do with romance, with love. She would forever be bound to him by her memories, both good and bad. Yet his claim on her was only from a desire to be free—free to harm—free to kill. And if on that terrible day, he escaped, and found her, she just hoped that she’d know a way of restraining him for good. Perhaps they’d go somewhere, far away, on a remote island of rock and crashing waves, full of wind and desolation, where no man or animal dared to approach. She’d bind him there, and they’d live out the rest of their days, in misery.
Until then…well, she’d live, as only a corporeal ghost could, spending each day with family and friends, in peace, grateful of the freedom that she’d been given, not wasting a moment to reflect on the what-ifs that plagued mortal minds so much. Perhaps she’d see Mason again, perhaps she’d see her parents, or perhaps she’d see no one but the living, and that was all right.
She wasn’t going to sulk, but rejoice in the fact that she had friends and family, who cared enough, loved enough, to put themselves in danger—knowing how lethal Tristan could be if let loose—in order to free her from the pair of spiritual shackles that she’d been forced to wear, separating her from her fate as keeper over the dead.
But she shouldn’t gloat, not yet. She still wasn’t free.
Chapter 31
Jules was still holding out the necklace, the golden, heart-shaped pendant with Love in rubies, luminous against the gloom.
The foyer wasn’t lit—Tristan must have cut the power—but Gunnar and the others had been prepared and brought flashlights; its beams were dancing all around the house, trying to find Edie.
When Edie reach for the pendant, Tristan yelled, “NO!” and struggled free of his captors.
As she grabbed the pendant, he grabbed her free hand, pulling her away. The necklace jerked free from Jules’s hand, and she gasped, realizing what’d happened.
“She’s here!” Jules announced, giddy. She jumped up and down. “She grabbed the necklace.”
Flashlight beams danced everywhere.
“Edie?!” everyone cried out in unison.
“Where is she?” Russell asked, sounding frustrated. “Adrian promised this would work.”
“And it will,” Adrian grunted to himself, trying with all his ghostly might to pull Tristan away from Edie.
Arianna joined in, prying Tristan’s fingers from Edie’s, while Edie secured the necklace in her other hand. Tristan had been trying to snatch it from Edie, but now he failed, as the combined strength of Adrian and Arianna subdued him.
Tristan was on his knees again, cursing and yelling, mostly at Edie. “You bitch!” he cursed. “How dare you leave me?! You love me, I know it!”
Edie was firmly holding onto the pendant, but her friends and family had yet to find her.
Maybe she had to put in on.
Yet she waited and turned toward Tristan. “Yes, I love you, Tristan.”
Tristan’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I love you, and I forgive you. Don’t struggle against Adrian and Arianna. Live in peace. You’re home. It doesn’t have to be full of gloom and oppression. It can be bright. It can be full of love. Forget the past and start over. I’ll always remember you, and if we do meet again, I hope it’s as friends, and not as enemies. Goodbye.”
Tristan was fighting back tears, trying not to seem weak. “I’ll always remember you, Edie, but in my mind, you’ll be the one who betrayed me the most.” It seemed that she hadn’t been able to get through to him. Tristan would always be a losing battle. “I never forgive, and I never forget,” he warned her. “And don’t pray for me. God has abandoned me. He did the day I was born.”
Adrian gasped and squeezed Tristan’s shoulder, gently. “Brother, don’t talk like that.”
“Shut up,” Tristan
growled at him, and followed up with, “your whore girlfriend is squeezing me too tight.” He smirked. “Then again, she always did like it rough.”
Arianna let go, ashamed of what she’d done all those years ago. Tristan was cunning; he’d used that against her. Now Adrian had to hold his brother down, alone. He tried to keep Tristan restrained, while at the same time, pleading for Arianna to come back; she’d retreated, keeping a sizable distance between her and Tristan.
Giving up on bringing her back, Adrian turned toward Edie, and yelled, “Quick, Edie! Put on the necklace and go! Go!”
Tristan was almost free. It was now or never.
Quickly, Edie placed the necklace around her neck and felt the pendant secure itself against her chest, near her heart. She didn’t feel any different, but suddenly, the room erupted into a multitude of gasps.
She turned toward the crowd. They could see her. Everyone rushed toward her, but she held up her hands, backing away.
“I might hurt you,” she warned, not knowing if she’d received Tristan’s killing touch.
Everyone ignored her, moving as one, with Russell in the lead. He caught Edie in a tight hug. She waited for him to die, but he didn’t. He was alive and warm.
He let her go, shivering. “You feel like ice,” he bemoaned, realizing that yes, she was dead.
She also realized something: Russell truly, absolutely loved her. But…that would mean…no, no! She wouldn’t dwell on Adrian’s words: fate and soul mate. No. Her soul mate was not a Lockhart, no matter how many generations apart. Mine’s gone.
As she was missing Mason, she thought she saw him, standing in front of her, but it was just Quinn. He shrugged out of his coat and offered it to her.
“Here, Edie, you must be freezing in that T-shirt.”
She shook her head, telling him “no.” He hesitated, confused, and then shrugged his coat back on. She’d also shaken her head to clear it of Mason, just for a little while. Right now, she needed to think clearly.
She felt someone holding her hand. It was Uncle Landon. He was crying joyfully at their reunion, and perhaps sadly of what she’d become.
“I don’t get cold anymore,” she told everyone.
Everyone’s eyes widened at this news, considering ever since she’d arrived in Grimsby, she’d been perpetually cold. Her death had changed that.
But there wasn’t any time to ponder the intricacies of her undead existence. They had to flee. Adrian was having a hard time keeping Tristan restrained. He was struggling to break free, having an easier time at it, now that Arianna had backed away against the wall, covering her face in shame. Edie wanted to go to her and comfort her, but she couldn’t. Arianna had traded her freedom for Edie’s, and Edie wouldn’t throw all that away, by staying and trapping them both.
“You’re strong,” Edie reminded her. “You always have been. Be strong now!”
To Edie’s relief, Arianna freed her face and looked at Edie. She gave Edie a grateful smile, and then rejoined Adrian, where she placed her hand on Tristan, and secured him, unable to move. Tristan was silent, resigned to his fate, for now. Adrian was relieved, smiling, as he held Arianna’s free hand in his.
Edie thanked them, and then turned back toward her rescuers.
Uncle Landon was still holding onto her cold hand; it didn’t seem to bother him. “We need to hurry,” she told him, and then to everyone else, “Now!”
There wasn’t any hesitation. Gunnar led the group, racing toward the front door. He threw it open, and then remained at the threshold, motioning everyone forward, making sure that they all made it out. Edie let go of her uncle at the door, urging him on, which he reluctantly did, and then she grabbed Gunnar, pulling him out of the house. She remained at the threshold and turned to take one last look at Lockhart Manor. With the flashlights gone, the foyer was dark. It reminded her of when she’d first entered, but now she wasn’t scared. She was happy.
As if sensing her joy, Tristan sought to crush it.
So out of the gloom, as he’d done before, a floorboard creaked.
“Come in.” His voice was enticing and dangerous. “I’ll help you find your way.” He chuckled, deep in his throat. “Oh, Edie, I’m going to miss you. Dream of me, my love, and remember: you’re mine and I’m yours. Don’t get too comfortable. This prison can’t hold me forever, or these pathetic jailers. Soon, my sweet, soon, we’ll be reunited. Goodbye, for now.”
His farewell wasn’t pleasant, but of course he’d never intended it to be. He thrived on instilling fear; that was how he’d become corporeal in the first place. She’d feared his transformation, but it’d ended up being a blessing, for when it’d been her time to die, after, she’d become corporeal herself, through her bond with Tristan. She wasn’t a transparent, unseen spirit like Adrian or Arianna. She was among mortals in their world, visible, but undead, and even though she’d rather be alive, she’d take this existence, now that she could be with her loved ones again.
So because of this, she said to Tristan, “Thank you for entering my life,” and closed the door.
She walked away, intending not to turn back around, but she did, and faced Lockhart Manor, for the last time. A light came on inside Tristan’s bedroom, then the curtain moved, and she saw him, staring at her from the window. He pressed his palm against the pane, telling her “goodbye,” but in a more genuine gesture than the creepy farewell that he’d given her before. She thought that he knew deep down that he’d never see her again. But, for some reason, she was almost certain that he’d reenter her life. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day. One day…
“Edie?” her uncle called out, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She turned toward him and noticed that he’d reclaimed her hand. Russell was on her other side; his hand kept brushing against hers, but he (thankfully) refrained from outright clasping it. Quinn was standing in front of Edie, then Jules, with Diana and Madelyn close by, scrunched in, and Gunnar, Rory, Amee, and Bree rounded out the rest. They weren’t afraid of Edie. And despite the chill that she was giving off, her uncle never let go of her cold, dead hand.
“Thank you all for saving me.”
Quinn advanced and took her free hand, rubbing her skin, as if he were trying to warm her up. It was a thoughtful gesture, but it’d never work. However, she let him continue. It was nice to be comforted and she interlaced her fingers with his.
He smiled. “So…what’s it like being dead?”
“Quinn,” Russell admonished, and then placed his hand protectively on Edie’s back.
Quinn shrugged. “What? Like we’re not all curious?”
“It’s okay,” Edie said.
She freed her hand from Quinn’s, and then stepped aside, away from Russell’s restrained touch that begged for more, despite how cold and dead she was.
Both of them frowned at her as she moved away. She ignored their glum looks and took up position next to her uncle, who seemed as if he’d never let her go. It was safe holding his hand. He was family. She could feel his warmth, as she had with Quinn and Russell, evidence that they were still alive. But she couldn’t explain why Tristan was hotter than a thousand suns, or why she was equally hot to him. She was sure it was a mystery that she’d never solve.
Edie appraised everyone, and their wide eyes, waiting to hear what it was like to be dead, minus the corpse decay, and the ability to walk and talk, as if she were alive. Her existence was complicated, and not even she could fully explain it.
Edie smiled. “Why don’t we all go out for breakfast and I’ll tell you, then?” she suggested.
She wasn’t hungry, but people always felt better when they had food inside their bellies. And she’d suggested it because she thought that she’d heard a stomach or two, growl among the crowd. No one had probably eaten since last night, staving off hunger to hatch a rescue plan.
Diana furrowed her brow. “You can eat?”
Edie shrugged. “I don’t know, but”—she grinned—“I’m dying to find out.”<
br />
Only Quinn and Jules laughed at Edie’s joke. Everyone else seemed too nervous to respond.
Edie waved a hand at them. “C’mon, you guys! Let’s celebrate. It’s not every day your friend dies, and then comes back as a corporeal ghost.”
“Oh, speaking of death…” Madelyn trailed off, and then continued, “Mason’s funeral is tomorrow. Principal Jennings is giving everyone the day off to attend, and you know, to mourn.”
Diana spoke up next. “Yeah, the, uh, police are looking for Tristan,” she said, and then looked up at Lockhart Manor. “Of course they’ll never find him, right?”
Edie followed Diana’s gaze and discovered Tristan had vanished from the window. But Edie could still feel him, staring at her.
“No,” Edie said. “They won’t. It’ll be a cold case, unsolved. Of course Tristan is being punished for his crime. He’s imprisoned in Lockhart Manor, thanks to Adrian and Arianna.” Edie turned toward Russell. “Adrian said that you’re buying the place, making sure no one ever goes in?”
Russell nodded. “As long as I’m alive, Lockhart Manor will be ‘forbidden to enter.’”
No one voiced concern of what would happen to Lockhart Manor after Russell had died. Who would watch over it? In Edie’s mind, she volunteered for the task, knowing that she’d be the best one to undertake such a responsibility. But she said nothing, leaving this conversation for another day, far into the future, when it would need to be discussed. Now was not the time to be detailing one’s Last Will and Testament. Now was a time to celebrate, to enjoy being together again.
Coldhearted (9781311888433) Page 34
