by Chelsea Fine
“She wouldn’t let me touch it. And she clutched it to her chest when she went upstairs. Like it was valuable or something.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe she bought something expensive while she was in Europe.”
“Or maybe she collects human heads.” Heather smiled, snapping the compact shut.
Scarlet frowned at Heather.
“It’s probably nothing.” Gabriel smiled reassuringly. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll do some deeper digging on Laura. Sound good?”
Scarlet nodded. “Yeah. That would be good.”
She took a deep breath and waited for her nerves to calm.
They didn’t.
20
For several months, Tristan made a habit of bringing Scarlet and her mother food on the mornings they hunted together. Every few days, he’d pack up a large sack and make his way across the forest to the small hut in the shadows.
At first, he’d done it to protect Scarlet from getting arrested by the earl’s men, or killed by greedy thieves.
But now, he did it so he could spend time with the dark-haired huntress.
She was fearless and feisty in the forest, but playful and gentle with her mother. She was tough and humble, and she made him feel alive in a way that was fast becoming irreplaceable.
Sometimes after hunting with Scarlet, he would stay for a meal. Scarlet would cook while Ana told stories. They would eat and laugh and joke with one another. Like a family.
Other times, he and Scarlet would go hunting together and nothing more.
He’d underestimated her greatly. She was deadly with a bow and her arrows were fast and accurate. She knew how to use a knife without flinching and she was careful and precise. She walked through the trees like she was a piece of the forest. Lithe, beautiful and free.
And Tristan was completely enraptured by her.
He sat at the small table in Scarlet’s hut eating a bowl of soup. Scarlet was seated to his right, apologizing for how small the chairs were, and her mother, Ana, was seated across from him.
Ana was an older version of Scarlet with long, dark hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Were it not for the few wrinkles and gray hairs she possessed, the two could be sisters.
“I like it when you stay for meals,” Ana said, smiling at Tristan.
“Well, I like to eat and since you like to feed me—”
“With food you brought yourself.” Scarlet glared at him, still upset that he continued to bring them food.
Too bad. He had access to a feast in his court’s garden and he wanted to share.
He looked at Scarlet pleasantly, determined to break her pride if it killed him.
And there was a good chance it would kill him.
“I brought the food as a bribe.” He leaned over to Scarlet and loudly whispered, “I’m trying to get in your good graces.”
Ana bit back a laugh as Scarlet rolled her eyes and said, “You are trying to drive me mad.”
“That too.” Tristan winked at Ana, who winked right back.
He had won Ana over and for that, he was grateful. Scarlet could pretend to hate him all she wanted, but as long as Ana welcomed him into their hut he would continue to come.
Ana looked at Tristan and smiled warmly. “Without Scarlet’s father around, it is nice to have a man in the house.”
Tristan swallowed a bite and gingerly asked, “What happened to Scarlet’s father?
Scarlet shifted uneasily but Ana looked unashamed to answer. “He became addicted to magic—”
“Mama,” Scarlet warned through her teeth.
Ana looked pointedly at Scarlet. “Our story is no secret, my love. It is a lesson.” Ana looked at Tristan. “Scarlet’s father became addicted to magical blue water brought back from the New World.”
Tristan raised his brows. Blue magic water? He’d never heard of such a thing.
Ana smiled sadly. “I met William, Scarlet’s father, when we were still teenagers. We were happily married and perfectly comfortable. But then William met my brother Francis.
“Francis had just returned home from an expedition to the New World, bringing back two large jugs of blue water with him. He claimed the blue water was eternal youth from a fountain he’d discovered in the New World.
“He also told William and me of a map he’d composed, leading back to the fountain, and he hoped to gain great wealth from his discovery. He wanted William’s help selling the water to the wealthy Englishmen of William’s home country and, of course, William was intrigued.”
Ana shook her head. “I did not trust the water—or the map. I was suspicious of any magic. But William,” Ana took a deep breath, “William was desperate for wealth and seduced by the idea of eternal life. He and Francis tasted the water, growing instantly young and stronger, and knew they had found true magic.
“Delirious with excitement, William and Francis insisted we move to England to sell the water. Scarlet was a young girl and I was hesitant to leave my family, but I loved William. So we came to England.
“William and Francis sold several vials of the blue water to a wealthy family in the village and quickly made a great profit. They planned to sell more, but soon realized they were addicted to the water and could not go a day without a drop.
“They soon grew ill. The effects of the water were temporary and their bodies demanded more of the liquid to stay strong. Francis still had his large jugs of blue water and gave one to William so they might continue to feed their addiction. They decided to use their great wealth to fund a journey back to the New World, where they would use Francis’s map to find the fountain and resupply their water.
“William pleaded with me to move to the New World and make a life beside the magic fountain. I panicked. I was convinced the water was cursed and I refused to take my young daughter across the ocean where we would live in danger and poverty. William became outraged with me, threatening me, frightening me.
“So I stole their jugs of water, trying to protect William and Francis from themselves.” She took another heavy breath. “Addiction is a dangerous thing. It can turn a sane man mad and a loving man evil. William’s body began to suffer great pains without the water and he became a monster. He threatened my life, demanding the water be returned to him if I wanted to live. And then he threatened Scarlet’s life….
Ana swallowed. “I gave the water back to him and Francis and left William, stealing Scarlet away into the night.” She paused, touching a hand to a silver broach she wore pinned to her dress. “Scarlet was only thirteen when we fled. We have been hiding in the eastern woods ever since.”
Tristan sat back.
They had run away from a dangerous man; two women risking their lives in the unforgiving forest to build themselves a home that was worth fighting for.
He looked at Scarlet. “Was that frightening?”
Scarlet kept her eyes on her food. “No. I was well-trained in archery and fencing by that time, and I knew plenty about hunting and gardening. The forest was not frightening.”
Tristan tucked his lips in. “I meant, was it frightening to leave your father?”
Scarlet looked at him with vulnerable eyes and, for a brief second, she was just a girl in the woods.
Not a huntress. Not a fighter.
Just a girl.
Scarlet softly said, “Not as frightening as it would have been had we stayed with him.” She looked back down at her food.
Ana lowered her eyes as well and the table sat in silence.
Looking around the hut, Tristan was filled with admiration for their hard work. The hut was simple, but clean and efficient. They had no adornments, no fancy pieces of furniture. Their walls were thin and bare and the single room they shared was but a mat on the dirt floor. The roof was solid but wearing through at some places and the garden out front was healthy, yet meager.
They had survived out here, hiding in the trees and living as fugitives, for years without help, protecting and providing for one another.
They had li
ttle, yet asked for nothing.
They finished eating silence. After the meal, Tristan rose from the table, kissed Ana on the cheek, and made his way to the yard with Scarlet at his side.
“Why do you continue to visit us?” Scarlet’s eyes were curious.
Tristan smiled. “I enjoy your company.”
She eyed him. “You have plenty of company in your court, I’m sure. The company of beautiful women with fine dresses and real homes, no doubt.”
He smiled. “Ah, but I prefer the company of a young woman with archery skills and a sharp tongue.”
She looked at the ground. “Your care is wasted on me.”
He placed a gentle finger below her chin and tilted her head up. “My care is not wasted. You are the best part of my day and what I look forward to when I’m gone.”
Scarlet looked into his eyes. “If you continue coming here, you are a fool.”
He smiled again. “Then call me a fool.”
21
After school, Scarlet drove straight to the cabin eager to know what Nate wanted to see her about. The winter days were growing shorter and the sun hung low in the sky by the time she pulled down the cabin’s dirt driveway.
For the first time since meeting the Archer brothers, Scarlet wondered about the cabin. When had Tristan designed it? When had it been built? And why was it in the middle of nowhere?
The cabin was outside of the Avalon city limits and surrounded by acres and acres of raw forest land. Large. Isolated. And quiet.
Just like its designer.
Scarlet parked and walked up the porch steps, knocking on the front door.
When the door pulled open, she expected to see Nate standing before her with a goofy smile. But instead she saw Tristan.
Wearing a black T-shirt that hung on his muscles in an all-too-alluring way and a shadow of stubble along his jaw, Tristan looked dark and forbidden.
Which he was. In more ways than one.
He didn’t invite her in. He stood in the doorway; one hand on the door, the other on the doorframe, blocking her view of the cabin’s interior. “Gabriel’s not here.”
He wasn’t the king of friendly greetings.
Tristan’s eyes roved up and down Scarlet’s face, stroking her cheeks and lips.
She absently felt him.
Love…sadness….
Feeling Tristan’s emotions was becoming a bad habit Scarlet really needed to kick. Or strangle. Or make out with.
Agh.
“I know.” Scarlet willed herself not to like the way his eyes drifted down to her neck and across her collarbone. “I came to see Nate.”
Possession…desire….
Scarlet swallowed and tried to pull herself out of Tristan’s feelings. “Can I come in, or what?”
For a moment, their eyes locked and Scarlet wondered what it would be like to touch Tristan’s face.
His eyes went heavy.
“Nate!” Tristan called, as he yanked his eyes away from Scarlet and pushed back from the door. Leaving it ajar, he turned and headed for the living room.
He was the worst doorman ever.
Hottest, maybe. But worst.
Scarlet walked inside and shut the door behind her. For a moment, it was just she and Tristan, standing as far away from one another as possible on the cabin’s main floor.
Tick…tick…tick….
The big clock above the fireplace seemed extra loud today.
Tristan started making his way toward the long dark hallway.
“Why do you do that?” Scarlet asked. “Why do you always run away from me?”
Turning around, Tristan looked at her. “I don’t run away. I exit.”
“Why?” Scarlet didn’t know why she was picking a fight. “Are you afraid of me?”
Tristan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m trying not to kill you. Remember?”
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “So you’re running away to your basement? Because an extra hundred feet of separation will keep me alive longer?”
“No. I’m walking to the basement so Gabriel doesn’t throw a fit about me being near you.”
Scarlet took a step toward Tristan. There was still an entire living room between them. “Is that a rule now? You can’t be close to me?”
“I wouldn’t call it a rule.”
“I would!” Nate bounded down the stairs wearing a beanie and a snowboarding jacket. Scarlet realized the cabin was a bit chilly. Glancing around, she noticed the tarp was still covering the window, giving the cabin a frigid temperature that Scarlet had failed to recognize during her conversation with Tristan.
Nate walked into the living room and stood in between Tristan and Scarlet. “Yes, I would definitely call it a rule. In fact, why don’t we list off few rules while we’re all here?” Nate smiled at Tristan first, then Scarlet. “Rule number one: No touching.”
A current of unease and desire ran through Scarlet and Tristan at the same time and their eyes locked. Scarlet looked away.
Nate continued, “I can’t see why this would be a problem since the two of you have no reason whatsoever to touch each other,” Nate said, glaring at Tristan, “but just in case there’s an emergency situation that requires CPR or something, find someone else.” Nate shrugged and smiled again. “Rule number two: Maybe keep a healthy distance away from one another. Like ten feet. I’d hate for one of you to accidentally trip and fall on top of the other one. For an extended period of time.” He smiled again. “Everyone understand?”
Tristan stared at Nate. “You’ve had a lot of rules lately.”
With a very fake smile, Nate said, “Maybe if we’d had more rules in Scarlet’s last life she wouldn’t be able to feel your emotions in this one.”
Ooh. Zinger.
Scarlet looked at the floor as she felt herself blush. Why was she blushing? What had happened in her last life?
“Anyway,” Nate’s voice cut into the very thick tension in the room, “I’m glad you’re here, Scarlet.” Reaching into his back pocket, he handed her something silver. “I wanted to give you back your ring thingy.”
Scarlet held up the shiny ring and examined it. “We still don’t know what it is?”
”It was your mother’s brooch,” Tristan said, eyeing the ring.
Nate blinked.
Scarlet blinked. “My mother’s?”
Tristan nodded.
“How do you know?” Scarlet took another step toward him, starving for information.
Tristan shifted back. “I remember seeing her wear it when I first met her.”
He looked uncomfortable, but Scarlet could feel the warmth that was easing through his body. Her mother was a good memory for him.
Tristan met my mom. He knows about me. My family. Tristan knows so much, but he acts so distant….
“Her name was Ana,” Tristan said.
Scarlet looked down at the ancient piece of jewelry, stunned and awed by the fact that she was holding piece of her past. Her heart kicked as she turned the brooch over.
There was no pin on the back—probably broken off over the years. Her mother, a woman named Ana, had worn this brooch. And Scarlet still had it.
She took a moment to treasure the gift.
Nate leaned over Scarlet’s hand and looked at the ring. “Okay, so…we solved the ring mystery. Yay.” He smiled at Scarlet. “One mystery solved. Only a hundred more to go.”
Gently tucking the ring into the front pocket of her jeans, Scarlet cleared her throat. “Thanks, Nate. For giving it back to me.”
“Sure,” he said.
A few awkward moments passed.
Scarlet cleared her throat again. “I’ll see you guys later.” She didn’t look at Tristan as she made her way to out the front door. Closing the door behind her, Scarlet felt numb.
She had so many questions about her past. Her mother…her relationship with Tristan…her relationship with Gabriel.
Scarlet made her way down the porch steps, staring at her shoes. Sho
es that had Tristan’s tattoo drawn all over them.
Agh.
She was so discouraged. She wanted to know who she was, what she liked, where she came from.
She wanted a freakin’ identity.
Maybe if she had her identity back, she would remember other things. Like her mother. And where the fountain was.
Just as Scarlet reached her car, she heard the soft thud of the cabin’s back door and immediately felt Tristan. He was probably going to shoot arrows. Or hunt for bears. Or whatever else moody, green-eyed archers did in their free time.
Scarlet paused as a thought formed in her head. Slowly, she turned around and headed for the back of the cabin.
She wanted memories and Tristan had them.
Scarlet’s steps were soft as she made her way around the side of the cabin and stood watching Tristan shoot arrows. She kept silent, almost holding her breath so as not to interrupt his concentration, but he knew she was there. She could feel the change in him the moment she’d stepped around the corner.
Guilt, love and sorrow had swarmed into him, saturating his soul.
Long minutes passed, broken only by the swift arrows cutting through the frigid forest air.
“What do you want?” Tristan finally said, keeping his eyes focused on a target in the distance.
Still being a jerk?
Awesome.
Scarlet tried to act casual as she walked closer to where he stood. Casual was the last thing she felt around Tristan.
“I want to remember.”
Tristan lined up another arrow. With his arm pulled back, his shirt tightened along his collarbone and stretched around his strong shoulder. “I’m not helping you use a Head Ghost.”
Scarlet watched his arrow fly. “I’m not asking for help with a Head Ghost. I’m asking for answers. About me.”
He glanced at her, his emerald eyes sharp and beautiful as they skimmed her face and neck. Scarlet’s insides tightened with excitement and his eyes went dark in awareness.
Stupid, stupid connection.
Scarlet blushed again and hated herself for it. Since when was she a blusher?
Tristan turned away from her. “What makes you think I have any answers for you?”
