by Chelsea Fine
Scarlet’s lips parted to ask why, but Tristan was already gone, pushing away from her and walking out to the men behind her.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she heard Tristan say. “On a hunt, are we?”
Scarlet kept her back up against the tree and her cloak tucked around her. The only reason she wasn’t reaching for her weapon or running through the trees right now was because she trusted Tristan.
With her life.
***************
Tristan stared up at Tennius, his father’s most trusted guard. Tennius was a burly man, with great strength and blind obedience, who hated Tristan with a passion.
“Lord Archer,” Tennius said. “What brings you out to these woods?”
“Hunting, of course,” Tristan motioned to the bow on his back and kept his hands steady. Scarlet was just yards away, covered only by a tree trunk. If the men were to move even ten feet in her direction, they would see her.
And they could not see her.
His heart started to pound.
Tennius looked at him skeptically. “You have no need to hunt, my lord. Especially not in these murderous woods.”
“I am aware of my surroundings.” Tristan lifted his chin. “But I hunt for my pleasure.” Tristan looked around and counted over a dozen men on horses. “What is you hunt today, Tennius? Surely not deer. I could give you a lesson in stealth if you wish to eat venison for dinner.”
Tennius was not amused. “The earl has discovered vagrants living on his land. They pay no rent and are thieves in his forest. He has ordered that these woods be thoroughly searched for such vagabonds and that the criminals be put to death.”
Tristan’s heart jumped into his throat and nearly choked him. If they looked for settlers in the forest long enough, Scarlet and Ana would surely be found. “I see my father is craving blood again.”
“Your father is a just man trying to keep order on his land—”
“Yes, yes.” Tristan mocked a smile. “We all know of your loyalty to my father. No need to announce your allegiance out here…among the birds and deaf stones. I’m sure they do not care.”
Tennius shifted on his horse. “We have work to do, my lord.” He turned to his men. “We move forward!”
“If you are in need of criminals,” Tristan said, desperate to send Tennius as far away from Scarlet as possible. “I would suggest you head to the south. I know of three thieving men who make their home there.” Tristan thought back to the men who attacked Scarlet.
Tennius raised a brow. “You’ve seen these men?”
Tristan nodded. “I occasionally have confrontations with those who wish to steal from me.” Tristan smirked, thinking of the first time he met Scarlet. “And believe me when I say, the thieves out here are not like anything I’ve seen before.”
He held his breath as Tennius eyed the wooded area around them.
“Very well.” He kicked his horse and started south. “This way, men!”
Tristan exhaled slowly as the men turned on their horses and disappeared into the trees.
A minute passed before he saw Scarlet creep out from her hiding spot. He looked at her for a moment, flooded in relief that she had not been found.
“Why did you hide me? Were those not your father’s men?” Scarlet walked up to him, confusion lining her face.
Tristan exhaled. “Yes, those were my father’s men. But I did not want them to see you.”
“Why not? You could have simply told them you brought me hunting with you. There was no need to hide me.”
Tristan pursed his lips together. “I wanted to keep you hidden. For your safety.”
“For my safety?” Scarlet’s mouth fell open. “Then why do we bother hunting together at all? If I am not safe hunting with you, then I may as well hunt on my own. You baffle me, hunter. You beg and plead to accompany me on my hunts, claiming your presence will protect me, but it does not.”
“You don’t understand.” Tristan rubbed his jaw.
”Did you keep me hidden because I am poor?”
Tristan dropped his hand. “Of course not.”
“Because I am dirty?”
He glared at her.
“Because I am small?” She raised her voice. “Because I am a girl? Because you are embarrassed to be seen with—”
“Because you are beautiful!” Tristan shouted, frustrated with how much he cared for the dark-haired girl standing before him. “You are young, and unmarried, and striking,” he explained. “I do not want large groups of men knowing there is a beautiful girl running around the eastern woods on her own. I can keep you from being arrested, but I cannot keep you safe from all other evils. And I cannot be here at all times to protect—”
“Hunter,” Scarlet said, her face flushed. “I am not yours to protect. You do not need to burden yourself with my safety.”
“Burden?” Tristan stared at her for a moment, wishing it was that simple. His mouth fell open. “I want to protect you.”
Scarlet blinked. “Why?”
Tristan inhaled slowly. “Because you are worth protecting.”
Scarlet looked at the ground, keeping her eyes and her blushing face away from him.
Tristan stared at her downcast eyes, his heart clenching with an unfamiliar emotion. Love.
He was in love with the girl thief.
He was a fool after all.
23
Gabriel arrived home from school just in time to see Scarlet walking out from the back of the cabin and heading for her car.
“Hey,” Gabriel said to Scarlet as she neared. “Why were you behind the cabin?”
Scarlet looked up at him. “I was shooting arrows. With Tristan.”
She said it casually. Like she hadn’t just been hanging out with the one and only person that could kill her with his proximity.
She smiled at Gabriel. “How was your history thing?”
Gabriel stared at the side of the cabin for a long moment, not sure if he was mad at Scarlet or Tristan. “Boring. Pointless.”
Tristan. He was mad at Tristan.
Scarlet twisted her lips sympathetically. “Sorry.” She absently kissed his cheek and continued walking to her car.
“Are you leaving?” He followed her with his eyes.
Scarlet turned around. “Yeah. I promised Heather I’d hang out after school. See you later?” She gave him a small smile.
Gabriel nodded. “Later.”
After Scarlet climbed into her car and started the engine, Gabriel marched to the back of the cabin.
Tristan had just drawn a fresh arrow when Gabriel turned the corner.
“Uh, what just happened?” Gabriel stood between Tristan and the back porch.
“Don’t start, Gabe.” Tristan let the arrow sail.
“What part of ‘stay away from Scarlet’ don’t you understand?”
Tristan scowled and lowered his bow. “The part that makes you sound like an overprotective guard dog.”
“I have a reason to be overprotective.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t touch her, so you can relax.”
“Relax?” Gabriel was incredulous. “I haven’t been able to relax for centuries. How am I supposed to relax when you’re always lurking around, making Scarlet worse?”
Tristan walked to the side of the cabin and set his bow against the wall. “She came to me, asking for answers. What was I supposed to do? Banish her from my presence?”
Gabriel crossed his arms, slightly hurt that Scarlet asked Tristan for answers instead of him. “Well, you certainly weren’t supposed to give her archery lessons and pretend like you’re not trying to make her remember you.”
Tristan raised a brow. “Now you sound insane.”
“Do I?” Gabriel stepped forward. “You miss her. You love her. I get it.” He shook his head. “I really do.” Pressing his lips together, he inhaled deeply. “But you can’t ask her to love you back.”
Tristan said nothing.
Gabriel lowered his voi
ce. “Asking her to love you back is the same as asking her to die.” He paused. “Don’t ask her to die for you.”
Whistling wind flew past the porch, wrapping around Gabriel and shooting out into the forest.
Tristan looked to the trees for a moment, before staring back at Gabriel with a tight jaw.
Gabriel said, “You’re not safe—”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “What do you want me to do, Gabe? Wear a shock collar that paralyzes me when I come within five feet of her?”
Actually, yes.
“Of course not,” Gabriel said.
“Then what?” Tristan stepped forward. “What do you want from me?”
Gabriel thought for a moment. He knew what he wanted. He just didn’t know if it was fair for Tristan.
But, then again, Tristan wasn’t the person he was trying to keep alive.
Gabriel inhaled. “I want you far away from Scarlet so she won’t be curious enough to get herself killed.”
It was unfair, asking Tristan to leave. Asking Tristan to put himself through horrendous pain by being away from Scarlet.
But it was the safest way to keep her alive. Would Gabriel regret it?
Maybe. Probably.
Did it matter?
No.
Turning to head up the porch stairs, Gabriel didn’t look back when he said, “I want you gone.”
***************
Scarlet drove to Heather’s house as the afternoon sun began to dip behind the tree line. She was grateful Heather had asked her to come over—she needed some distance from a certain green-eyed Archer.
She bit her lip, torn by her feelings. Every time she was around Tristan, her heart went wild and her soul came alive. When she felt his sadness, it hurt her heart. When she felt his guilt, she wanted to kiss it away. And when she felt his desire….
Well, she wanted to do a lot more than kiss him.
Tristan was a beautiful, broken enigma and she wanted to piece him back together one touch at a time.
I am the worst girlfriend ever.
Scarlet dropped her head to the side, wishing she didn’t care about Tristan and his brokenness.
She pulled up to Heather’s house and parked. The Baxter family lived just a few streets down from Scarlet on Cherry Drive. Heather’s house was two stories, like Scarlet’s, but much smaller. The front yard was meager, but well cared for, with a slim flowerbed beside the front door and a mostly-green square of grass by the driveway.
Scarlet got out of her car and walked to the red front door. She raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open before her fist hit the red wood.
“Scarlet!” Heather’s little sister Emily squealed, pulling Scarlet inside. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to draw a castle all day, but my drawings keep looking like birthday cakes. Since you know how to draw, will you help me? Please, please?”
A happy eight-year-old, Emily had long, curly blonde hair. Lighter than Heather’s, it tangled around her face and glowed like a halo, fitting Emily’s sweet and innocent disposition perfectly.
Scarlet smiled. “Sure. Lead the way.” She followed Emily into the Baxter’s small kitchen. The room was decorated bright yellow and red, with roosters.
Lots and lots of roosters.
Rooster magnets, rooster salt and pepper shakers, rooster cookie jars….
Scarlet couldn’t help but think cock-a-doodle-doo every time she entered the room.
Heather’s two brothers, Jason and Wade, were standing beside an open refrigerator. Jason was pouring chocolate syrup into his mouth, and Wade was drinking milk out of the carton.
Ick.
At seventeen, Heather was the oldest of the Baxter children. Then came Wade, followed by Jason, and Emily was the baby.
Emily held up a piece of paper with a lopsided castle on it. “See?” She pouted her lips. “I’m no good at drawing castles.”
“Sure you are.” Scarlet took the paper and sat down at the round kitchen table in the center of the room. Crayons, markers and crumpled drawings of castles littered the rooster tablecloth. Finding a clean piece of paper, Scarlet picked up a pink crayon.
“The trick to drawing a good castle,” she began, “is starting with the main tower.” Scarlet sketched a tall tower, surrounded by two smaller towers and a castle wall.
It was weird to think that she had, at one time, lived when castles and drawbridges and knights in shining armor were a common thing.
Scarlet watched Emily try to mimic Scarlet’s castle. “There you go.” Scarlet looked at the little girl affectionately. “Your castle looks great.”
Emily finished the sketch and stared at her drawing with a proud smile. “Wow. It doesn’t look like a cake.”
“Ew, get out of the fridge.” Heather entered the kitchen and stared at Wade, who was now drinking orange juice from the carton. “You’re such a pig. You’re like a little Neanderthal, with oversized feet and a germ-ridden piggy mouth.”
“Oink, oink,” he retorted, making a point to put his lips fully around the juice carton’s spout.
Nasty.
Heather made a disgusted face at Wade before looking at Scarlet. “You wanna come upstairs?”
Scarlet looked at Emily, who was happily drawing a butterfly and a bee around her castle.
Scarlet touched Emily’s shoulder as she got up from the table. “Thanks for letting me draw with you.”
Emily smiled at her.
Scarlet followed Heather upstairs.
The Baxter house had three bedrooms, so Emily and Heather shared a room that was divided in half.
Literally.
A long piece of painter’s tape stretched from the bottom center of the back wall, up to the ceiling, across the middle of the ceiling, and back down across the wall by the door.
On one side of the tape, Heather’s side, the walls were light green with a large window that overlooked their small backyard. Beneath the window, was a twin bed covered in green and white blankets that, when made, probably looked quite fashionable.
But Scarlet had never seen Heather’s bed made up. Because Heather was messy.
Shoes, books, bras and magazines were scattered at the foot of Heather’s bed and leaked out of her closet—which was also split down the middle with tape.
On the other side of the room, Emily’s side, the walls were bright pink with fluffy, white clouds painted on them. Emily’s twin bed was wrapped in pink and purple sheets and a plethora of stuffed animals adorned her pillow.
Her dolls and toys were well-organized beside her bed and dozens of drawings were taped to her side of the wall. Drawings of teddy bears, penguins, rainbows and her family members hung above her bed like little pieces of Emily’s heart on display.
Scarlet loved the Baxter girls’ room.
“So, how was your trip to see Nate?” Heather asked, sliding open her closet door. A mess of clothes, bags and belts sprung free from the doors as Heather immersed herself in the madness.
Scarlet sighed and answered indirectly. “Fine. Tristan and I shot arrows.”
Heather pulled her head out of the closet and stared at Scarlet. “Like, Robin Hood style?”
Scarlet nodded. “Apparently, I know how to use a bow.”
And I’m good at it.
Scarlet hadn’t missed a single shot.
“Well that’s...neat,” Heather said. “Medieval archery skills are sure to come in handy the next time we need to hunt for elk or storm a castle or something.”
Scarlet smiled. “Yep.”
Heather started riffling through her clothes, yanking out dress after dress and throwing them to the floor.
“Well, it’s official,” Heather looked at the mess of discarded dresses on her bedroom floor. “I need a new dress to match my new pink shoes for the town fair next month. Want to go shopping with me tomorrow?”
“Not even a little.”
Scarlet s
trode over to Heather’s bed and sat down in the tangle of green blankets. The brooch in her pocket poked into her hip through her tight jeans and Scarlet leaned back to pull it out.
“Oh, come on,” Heather pleaded. “We could get you a cute little dress, too.”
Scarlet made a face. “Who wears a dress to a carnival?” She rubbed her fingers across the smooth ring.
“Oh good!” Heather eyed the ring in Scarlet’s hand with a broad smile. “I’m so happy you didn’t lose that pretty ring thingy when you had your little mini-death. Now you can wear it in your hair for the fair.”
Scarlet frowned. “It’s not a hair clip, Heather. It’s a brooch that used to belong to my mother and I’d rather not douse it with hair spray and bobby pin it to my head.”
Heather’s eyes brightened as she turned away from her closet and came over to sit on the bed next to Scarlet. Grabbing the ring from Scarlet’s hands, she eyed it appreciatively. “This was your mother’s? It’s beautiful.”
Scarlet took the ring back, looking at the stitched design on the side. It was quite beautiful and looked handcrafted. She ran her finger over the engraved markings…and the markings moved.
Acting like a tiny latch, the cluster of markings slid over and out, revealing an opening to the inside of the ring. Cylindrical in shape, the ring was hollowed out and the design had acted as a fastener to keep it closed.
Scarlet’s heart began to pound. A secret compartment?
As she looked inside the ring, she saw something rolled up within the silver shell.
“What is that?” Heather asked, looking over Scarlet’s shoulder.
Scarlet blinked. “I don’t know.” She tried to pry the object from the ring, but her fingers were too big.
“Here.” Heather quickly bent over and grabbed something off the floor. “Use this.” She handed Scarlet a bobby pin.
Sometimes, messy bedroom floors came in handy.
Scarlet took the bobby pin and carefully slid the object out of the ring.
It was a rolled up piece of paper—like a tiny scroll. For a moment, Scarlet just stared at it. The paper could be anything.
It could be good.
It could be evil.
It could be the undoing of all mankind—
