Anew: The Archers of Avalon, Book One (17 page)

Late that evening, Scarlet was in a dead and peaceful sleep when she heard a noise downstairs. Her eyes flew open as she sat up in bed, listening.

Someone was in the house.

She heard a faint shuffle and a creak on the downstairs floor.

Of course something totally freaky would happen while Laura was a million miles away.

Slowly and quietly, Scarlet crept out of bed.

She looked around her room for her cell phone and wanted to groan. She’d left it downstairs on the kitchen table. How was she going to call the police?

Okay, don’t panic.

She heard a second creak on the staircase and realized the intruder was making his way upstairs.

Scarlet panicked.

Should I fight?

Nope.

Should I hide?

Maybe.

Should I run?

Definitely.

Frozen in the darkness of her bedroom, Scarlet formulated a plan to exit her house without tipping off the intruder.

She tiptoed to her cracked bedroom door and peeked into the black hallway. If she could slink out of her room and hide in the hall bathroom at the top of the stairs until the intruder passed by, then she could run downstairs and out the front door, screaming like a crazy person.

Yes. That was a good plan.

She pulled open her bedroom door just wide enough to fit her slim body through.

Creak.

The stranger was higher up on the stairs—she had to hurry.

Slipping through her doorway, Scarlet snuck along the dark hallway wall and into the bathroom. She hid behind the open bathroom door and peeked out between the door hinges, her eyes fixed on the stairs.

Her breath was shaky as she waited in silence.

All the lights were off in the house, making it impossible to see anything clearly. Moonlight spilling in from the windows was the only illumination.

A silhouetted figure appeared at the top of the stairs and paused.

It was a male form—a figure and body type she’d never seen before.

A stranger.

Scarlet began to shake, cursing herself for leaving her phone downstairs.

The figure, whose features were indiscernible in the darkness, cocked his head to the side like he was listening for something.

Scarlet held her breath.

Slowly, he moved down the hallway. When he walked passed the bathroom, Scarlet was sure her pounding heart would give her away.

But it didn’t.

The stranger crept along. Past the bathroom. Past Laura’s room. But stopped at Scarlet’s bedroom, and stood outside her door.

Scarlet wanted to cry.

He thought she was in there.

He thought she was sleeping in her bed. Alone. Vulnerable.

This was more than just an intruder. This was someone after Scarlet personally.

She watched him silently enter her dark bedroom.

Without another thought, Scarlet scooted from behind the bathroom door and tiptoed into the hallway. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream.

But, mostly, she wanted to live.

As quietly as she could, Scarlet turned her back on her bedroom and hurried to the staircase.

She’d just reached the top of the stairs, when a strong, male hand covered her mouth and pulled her back up against a strong body.

I’m going to die.

Tristan could barely control his fear when he whispered into Scarlet’s ear, “Get out of here!”

There was a strange man in Scarlet’s bedroom.

In the middle of the night.

When no one else was home.

Tristan had watched him enter Scarlet’s house a few minutes ago and immediately followed him inside. He’d seen the stranger head straight for Scarlet’s bedroom and nearly lost his mind.

Tristan didn’t know what the intruder was after, but he didn’t care.

He was a threat to Scarlet.

And he would die.

Scarlet calmed down as soon as she registered Tristan’s voice in her ear.

If Tristan was here, she was safe.

How she knew that, Scarlet didn’t know. But she believed it with all her heart.

Still wrapped in his arms, Scarlet let her body sink into him as she exhaled.

She stopped shaking, but her heart started thudding like it was under attack.

And, without warning, her eyes went blind went a memory.

She was in the forest. With Tristan.

They were standing the same way, his arms wrapped around her body as she rested her back against his chest.

But they weren’t in danger.

In was nighttime, and there were a million stars winking at them from the heavens. The dark forest trees softly danced in the warm wind and his voice was close to her ear when he said, “I promise.”

The memory slipped away, and Scarlet was again at the top of her staircase. In Tristan’s arms. He released her and, for the first time since he’d grabbed her, Scarlet realized Tristan wasn’t the intruder.

Which meant the bad guy was still in her bedroom….

For brief moment, Scarlet didn’t move.

Tristan’s voice was full-volume and stern when he yelled, “Run!”

Scarlet blinked one time, before doing exactly that.

She ran.

She’d almost reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard a rustling followed by a series of thumps and groans.

Alarm shot through her as she looked back up at the top of the staircase.

From the light of the moon she could see Tristan wrestling with the stranger, arms and legs flailing in the darkness. Moonlight glinted off the blade of a knife in the stranger’s hand—a knife he was stabbing Tristan with.

A surge of adrenaline rushed through Scarlet’s veins as she reached the main floor. She hurried to the kitchen table and found her cell phone.

She had just dialed 9-1- when she glanced back up and saw Tristan pull something from his back pocket and thrust it into the stranger’s abdomen, weakening his opponent greatly.

The stranger yelped and fell backward, his large body tumbling down the staircase and into the entryway.

Scarlet froze, paralyzed by fear.

She watched in horror as the stranger, gripping his midsection, stood from his fall, looked once at Scarlet, and fled out front door.

With the phone still in her hands, Scarlet smacked at the wall beside her until she found the light switch. Flicking it on, she saw Tristan hurry to the base of the stairs and look at her with wild eyes. “Scarlet, get out of here!”

She noticed a deep gash on his forehead bleeding down the side of his face. Several gashes marked up his arms and chest, coating his shirt in blood. He needed stitches. Or a doctor.

Words tumbled over themselves as Scarlet quickly pushed them through her mouth, “What happ—? Are you ok—? Who was—?”

She was shaking and her lungs felt tight with fear.

Tristan sharply motioned to the front door with a bloody hand. “Get outside.” His green eyes bore into her; without mercy, without debate. “Now!”

Scarlet blinked once before rushing out of her house, Tristan right behind her.

“Get to my car.” Tristan commanded, his hot breath brushing against the back of her neck as they ran across her front lawn.

Without question, Scarlet headed to Tristan’s black car.

He hated her. He didn’t want her around.

But, for whatever reason, Scarlet trusted him implicitly.

If he told her to get in the car, she would get in the car.

Scarlet’s breathing became more tight and rapid.

Tristan barked out orders like, “Keep your head down,” and “Don’t look back!” but Scarlet barely heard him above the roar of her pounding heart and the shallow air squeezing through her chest.

With burning eyes, she ran through the darkness and let herself into Tristan’s car. He followed suit, jumping into the driver’s seat and immediately peeled out of the neighborhood.

It wasn’t until they were speeding away from her very small and, usually, very
safe
Avalon neighborhood that Scarlet was able to catch her breath. “What…what just happened?”

Tristan kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t know.” He sounded out of breath, too.

He seemed…angry.

And scared.

Panic darted through Scarlet’s body. “Is someone following us?”

“No.” He cursed. “I don’t know.”

Scarlet turned around in her seat to look out the back window.

“What are you doing? Turn around and keep your head down!” Tristan’s eyes shot to Scarlet with a dangerous gleam.

She twisted back around, faced forward and shrank down in her seat.

She was terrified.

Not because Tristan was yelling at her like she was a disobedient puppy, but because Tristan was scared.

And if
he
was afraid, then there was something to be afraid of.

Several minutes went by in silence, the only noise the growling of the car engine.

“Are you okay?” Tristan asked in a rough voice, not looking at her. “Are you hurt or anything?”

Scarlet shook her head and looked out at the road, her body shaking again. “Who was that guy in my house? Was he a robber? What did he want?”

“I don’t know,” Tristan said shifting in his seat. He winced in pain as he reached into his back pocket. First he threw a knife, wet with blood, on the dashboard.

Scarlet’s eyes widened.

Then he held up an unfamiliar object. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

It looked like a wide headband. It was black, made of plastic, and lined with wires. On one side of the band was what looked like a tiny, sharp crystal.

Scarlet eyed it, her confusion growing. “No. What is it?”

Tristan shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road. “I have no idea.”

Scarlet blinked. “What do you think he wanted?” she asked again, because she was scared. And nervous. And confused.

“I don’t
know
,” Tristan snapped, anger in his voice, like Scarlet’s questions were annoying him.

Scarlet raised a brow. “Well, what were you doing in my house?” If he wanted to be snotty, she could be snotty. “I certainly didn’t invite you in.”

Tristan let out a frustrated sigh and checked the rearview mirror without answering.

“What were
you
doing in my house,
Tristan
? Did Gabriel send you?”

Tristan’s flexed his jaw. “No.”

Scarlet shifted in her seat to look at him. “Then…what? You were just hanging out upstairs while I slept? That’s creepy.”

Tristan shook his head. “I was
outside
of your house when I saw that guy walk in your front door.”

Scarlet widened her eyes. “You saw him come inside?”

Tristan nodded. “I thought it was weird that some stranger just waltzed into your house in the middle of the night while your guardian was out of town, so I followed him in. Turns out he was a bad guy. Big surprise.”

Scarlet looked at him. “What do you think he wanted?”

Tristan blinked. “I’m not sure. But he knew you were inside and he was willing to kill me to get to you.”

Scarlet shuddered. “We need to call the police.”

“Nope.”

“What?” Scarlet looked at him incredulously. “Someone just broke into my house and tried to
kill
me…or something. We need to call the cops.”

Tristan shook his head. “Uh-uh.”

“You’re insane.” Scarlet pulled out her phone to dial 9-1-1 for the second time that night.

Tristan snatched the phone from her hands and, with one swift movement, rolled down his window and threw it into the heavily wooded area on the side of the road.

“What the
hell,
Tristan?” Scarlet stared at him in disbelief.

“You don’t get to make phone calls right now, Scarlet. You need to listen to me, closely.” Tristan looked at her briefly, his eyes connecting with hers in a way that comforted her and scared the crap out of her at the same time.

“That guy back there wasn’t your normal, everyday burglar. He was after
you specifically
and he had this,” Tristan held up the headband thingy again as he looked back at the road, “ready to use on you. So, you don’t get to pretend like you have a normal teenage life right now. You are
different,
Scarlet. Somebody came after you tonight. You could have died. Or worse.”

A few tense moments passed, silent but for the car engine and Scarlet’s drumming heart.

She puckered her lips. “Still. Did you really have to throw my phone out? Couldn’t you just have asked me to put it down and talked to me like a grown up?”

“Nope.”

“You suck.”

“Okay.”

“You owe me a new phone,” Scarlet quipped.

Tristan jutted his jaw. “Phones can be traced, Scarlet. This way, if someone goes hunting you down, they’ll wind up in some roadside Georgia forest—far away from you.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Maybe.” Tristan glanced at her.

Scarlet met his eyes with a steel gaze, more questions filling up her head. “What were you doing in my house?”

“I wasn’t in your—“

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “What were you doing
outside
my house? At,” she looked at the dashboard clock, “three in the morning?”

Tristan tilted his head back a forth a few times. “Sleeping.”

Scarlet pursed her lips. “Sleeping?”

“Yes. Sleeping. Or, at least,” he exhaled, “t
rying
to.”

“Right.” Scarlet shook her head.
Liar.

Her eyes moved about the darkness of the car and took everything in. The seats were leather and the interior was very clean. The instrument lights on the dashboard cast an eerie glow on Tristan’s profile and Scarlet’s breath caught.

He was bleeding. Badly.

Her eyes trailed down to his body, where dark stains seeped through his shirt and pants.

He had blood all over him.

His beautiful face... his beautiful body...was bloody.

She stared at him another minute before swallowing and filling up with gratitude.

He’d fought for her tonight.

He’d been stabbed and hurt so some weirdo hadn’t hurt her.

Tristan had protected her.

She remembered the memory flash she’d had at the top of the stairs and she softened inside.

There had to be more to Tristan than coldness. It didn’t make sense that he hated her.

Somewhere, a long time ago, he’d held her in his arms and promised her…something. Guys that hate you don’t make promises under the stars.

Scarlet’s heart kicked as she looked him over. A piece of her wanted to climb into his arms and kiss all his boo-boos.

She was pathetic.

“You’re bleeding.” Her eyes ran over the many cuts and bloodstains on his body. “You need to go to a hospital.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, as if lost in thought.

“Tristan,” she said, trying to get his attention.

He blinked and furrowed his brow before glancing at her. “What?”

“You need to see a doctor.” Scarlet reached across the seat to touch the side of his face where a piece of hair was matted to the stream of blood on his forehead, but he abruptly ducked out of her reach.

Like her hand was poison.

Like he was disgusted by the idea of her touch.

The rejection stung as Scarlet quickly pulled her hand back.

He shook his head. “No. No, I’m immortal, remember? I don’t need doctors.”

“But you’re….” Scarlet eyed the blood oozing from the side of his chest. “You’re bleeding pretty bad…and you’re probably in a lot of pain—“

“I’m
fine,
” he snapped.

Scarlet raised a brow. “Fine. Bleed to death. Whatever.”

You can die for all I care.

The thought stole the breath from her lungs and Scarlet silently scolded herself.

Looking out the windows, she noticed the road they were on was dark and familiar. “Where are we going?”

“The only safe place I know.” Tristan pulled off onto a dirt road.

“Your cabin?”

He nodded.

“Let me get this straight. We’re
not
calling the cops, and you think your isolated cabin in the middle of
nowhere
is the safest place to keep me? Brilliant plan.”

“The cabin—and the land around it—are secure. And if we call the police, and explain what happened, they’ll open an investigation. We can’t have random strangers prying into your life, Scarlet. If people start looking too closely at you, they might look closely at Gabriel too. And that kind of attention will only hinder the whole curse thing. So, I’m going to hand you over to Gabriel so he can take care of you like a good little boyfriend and you’re not going to call the cops, got it?”

“You’re a jerk,” Scarlet said, because she was feeling feisty. And a little hurt by Tristan flinching at her hand a moment ago. Her eyes started burning again.

“That’s me. The jerk.” Tristan pulled out his phone—a phone that was
not
in the middle of the woods—from a pocket of his jeans and sent a text.

As soon as they pulled into the cabin’s driveway, Gabriel rushed out of the front door and followed them into the garage.

He came to Scarlet’s side of the car as she opened her door. “Are you okay?” Gabriel ran his hands across her head and shoulders and back as she stood from the car. “Did anyone hurt you? What the hell happened?” He paused, looking curiously at her eyes. “How do you feel?”

Scarlet shook her head, welcoming Gabriel’s affectionate touch across her body. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Sure, she had no scars on her body and she didn’t have dried blood caked to her shirt like Tristan, but her heart was beating out of control.

Someone had come after her tonight.

And here she thought her biggest problem was trying to outlive a curse.