Anew: The Archers of Avalon, Book One (24 page)

The next morning Tristan and Gabriel led Nate to the area where the intruder had died. Tristan carried a long dagger—just in case.

He wasn’t about to get all slashed up again because some crumbling creature was handy with a butcher knife.

The forest was desolate and void of any real information, aside from the scraps of clothing left in a heap on the ground.

“What do you think he was?” Gabriel asked Nate.

“I’m not sure.” Nate squatted to examine the few remaining ashes, carefully collecting a small sample. He looked up at Tristan. “Did you check for fangs?”

Tristan blinked. “Check for
fangs
? No. I didn’t roll him over and stick my fingers in his mouth. He wasn’t a vampire, Nate.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Vampires don’t exist.”

“Neither do immortal beings.” Nate smiled.

Tristan rolled his eyes.

“So, he just…evaporated?”

“No, he disintegrated. Like he was made of ash.” Gabriel said.

Tristan shook his head. “That guy was
not
made of ash. I grappled with him the other night and he had no problem punching me and slicing me open. Definitely not made of ash.”

Nate thought for a moment. “Well, I guess he could have been like us…but more vulnerable. Maybe that’s what happens when an immortal person dies. Maybe we turn to ash. And maybe he was looking for others like him. It would certainly explain why he’d gone after Scarlet.”

“He wasn’t immortal,” Tristan said. “My arrow wouldn’t have been able to kill him—even if he was a weaker version of us. Trust me.”

Nate gave Tristan a sour look.

“Where do you think he got the Head Ghosts?” Gabriel asked.

Nate stood back up. “I have no idea, but it’s weird that he had more than one. Did you see anyone else with him last night? Any other…strangers?”

Both brothers shook their heads.

Gabriel exhaled. “Do you think there’s more than just one guy after Scarlet? Do you think she’s still in danger?”

Nate twitched his lips. “I don’t know. I’d like to think this was an isolated incident…but I don’t know. Maybe he met Scarlet in her last life and knew all about her. Maybe she told him.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Nate shrugged. “You never know. Scarlet has secrets, just like any of us.”

No one said anything for a moment.

“For now,” Nate said, “let’s just keep a close eye on her and watch for any other…ash people.”

Ash people?

Fantastic.

The next few weeks went by smoothly. Fall morphed into winter and brought icy winds and silent nights with it. Angie’s Halloween party came and went without any real drama, except for Heather having to explain to everyone what her costume was.

“I’m an Egyptian zombie queen,” she’d repeated over and over.

Like people should have just guessed that.

Nobody had attempted to break into Scarlet’s house since the night Tristan and Gabriel had killed the weird ash guy. Which was good news.

The fact that crazy ash people existed and were running around in the trees behind her house? Super creepy.

Scarlet was relieved that she no longer had to worry about an intruder.

She and the boys had been working nonstop on researching the fountain and her eyes hadn’t glowed since her conversation with Nate in the kitchen.

Everything was going well.

That is, everything except for Scarlet’s inevitable death—that was still looming on the horizon.

Scarlet tried to push death from her mind as much as possible. Instead, she focused on the fountain of youth. She read books, researched online, and talked to anyone and everyone she could find about myths and legends—all in the hopes that the fountain could, and would, be found before she keeled over. Which, according to Nate, could happen in the next few weeks.

And Heather didn’t have a clue.

It was hard for Scarlet to live a double life. She wanted so badly to tell Heather everything, but something always made her hesitate. Maybe it was fear. Maybe selfishness.

Scarlet couldn’t bring herself to do it yet.

Laura had been weird about Scarlet’s obsession with the fountain of youth, so Scarlet had resigned herself to doing her research at the library. Which is where she was the morning of winter formal.

Despite her and Gabriel’s strained relationship since the symbol incident, he insisted they still attend the dance together.

Because that was a great way to spend free time when really what you should be doing is finding a way not to die.

Scarlet hadn’t wanted to go, but she also didn’t want to disappoint Gabriel. He seemed to be looking forward to the dance and she didn’t want to let him down.

Ever since Nate had told her about Gabriel’s curse, Scarlet had tried to be an extra good girlfriend. She’d tried to show him as much love as she could. But Gabriel had still seemed…distant.

As if he no longer trusted her.

So, she was going to the winter formal with a hot guy who didn’t trust her but was probably in love with her because he didn’t have any other options.

Wonderful.

Scarlet looked at the time. Laura had probably already left on her business trip—she was going to be gone for almost ten days this time. It seemed like her work trips were getting longer and longer….

Poor Laura.

With Laura out of the house, however, Scarlet would be free to pursue her fountain investigation at home.

She looked at the clock again.

She’d go home soon. Just a few more minutes at the library, and then she’d head home to finish up her reading and start getting ready for the dance.

Scarlet continued her research until she came across an online passage about the fountain of youth being in a forest of tall trees and dark shadows. Scarlet opened her notebook for the zillionth time, hoping to find something she’d missed.

She started to read on, but went blind as a new memory hit her.

She had an arrow and she was running away with it, trying to save…someone.

She ran and ran…until she came to a familiar house. She rushed inside and looked around for a hiding spot. It had to be a good spot…a permanent spot.

She ran into a bedroom and headed to a familiar cabinet. A wardrobe.

She pulled out the bottom drawer, removed a false bottom, and placed the arrow against the old wood. Covering the false bottom back up, she returned the drawer to its place and stepped back, breathing heavily.

The arrow was dangerous—it was deadly.

She had to keep it safe.

She had to keep
everything
safe
.

Scarlet blinked back to the present and found herself breathing heavily, her eyes hot.

She was afraid. Truly fearful.

As if she had hidden the arrow just seconds ago rather than years ago.

Scarlet tried to get a grip, but she was confused. What was so dangerous about the arrow?

Suddenly, she had a feeling someone was about to die.

Someone besides
her.

There was only one way to find out—she had to talk to Gabriel.

Scarlet pulled out her phone and called him

No answer.

She called Nate.

No answer.

Come on, guys!

Scarlet tapped her fingers on the library desk in front of her. She needed to tell someone immediately.

Someone was in danger—she could
feel
it!

She pulled out her phone and texted Gabriel.

I had a flashback. I’m on my way to your house. It’s important!

She pressed send and gathered her things.

This couldn’t wait—someone was going to die.

After knocking on the cabin door for two minutes without an answer, Scarlet turned the doorknob and found it unlocked.

Yeah, real safe guys.

She let herself in and called out for Gabriel.

Nothing.

She ran upstairs and looked for him, but found his room empty.

She went back downstairs, frustrated she wasn’t able to get a hold of anyone and didn’t think she could wait a moment longer to tell someone.

Unless….

She looked at the stairs leading into the basement. Could she wait until Gabriel got home for answers?

Nope.

Slowly, carefully, Scarlet descended the stairs. Tristan wasn’t her first choice, but he certainly knew more than she did.

Scarlet made her way down into the basement feeling like an intruder in a lion’s den. Tristan had made it clear he wasn’t thrilled with her presence in the house, let alone in his private quarters. But this was important.

She needed help and since Gabriel was nowhere to be found, Tristan would have to do.

She tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind that chided her reasoning. If she were being honest with herself, there was a part of her—a very small, very foolish part—that was happy for an excuse to see Tristan.

To need him. To be around him.

She was the worst girlfriend ever.

Shaking off her guilt and falling back on her earlier I-need-help-from-someone excuse, Scarlet proceeded down the basement hallway to Tristan’s room. The only other time she’d been in this part of the cabin was when Gabriel had given her the grand tour.

The basement looked so different without Gabriel. It looked…forbidden.

She crept quietly, feeling unwelcome in Tristan’s living space. His obvious dislike for her didn’t help with her resolve to seek him out. There was a good chance he’d yell or scoff or, worse, ignore her.

The possibility of him turning her away angered her. But more significant than his dislike for her was the sadness it triggered. Something inside her lost a bit of life every time Tristan shunned her.

Which was pretty much anytime time she was around.

Maybe it was for her own protection, like Nate had said, but it still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Scarlet reached Tristan’s bedroom door, which stood ajar, and carefully took a single step inside. The large bed situated in the center of the room was ornate and beckoning in its design.

The deep mahogany frame was carved with masculine angles offset with intricate details burned into the four posters that stood at attention at each corner. Everything about the frame screamed
man
, while everything about the navy bedding whispered
woman
. Plush pillows sat atop a raised mattress, silk sheets and a velvet blanket.

Scarlet swallowed.

For all his brooding and brokenness, Tristan sure knew how to put a bed together. The basement ceilings were much higher than she remembered, making Tristan’s bedroom feel vaulted and open.

A wardrobe cabinet sat in the far corner of the bedroom and Scarlet did a double-take.

It was the wardrobe from her flashback.

She had hidden the dangerous arrow in Tristan’s wardrobe.

But why?

She was about to call out Tristan’s name when movement caught her eye.

Directly across from the bed was an archway leading into the master bath. In the area just beyond the archway, and visible from the doorway, was a long, marble bathroom countertop. Above the sink hung an oversized bathroom mirror framed with the same mahogany as the beautiful bed.

It was inside this mirror Scarlet’s eye was drawn to movement.

Tristan stood in front of the mirror, his perfect body shirtless, as he finished washing his face.

His body was gorgeous. Strong and male and pure muscle.

Scarlet’s mouth dropped open as her eyes zeroed in on something curious. It wasn’t his perfectly sculpted half-naked body that caught her attention.

It was the dark tattoo—wrapped around the left side of his ribcage and reaching down below his waist—that captured Scarlet’s gaze.

Her eyes followed its design in disbelief, staring unashamedly at his bare torso.

Scarlet sucked in a sharp breath.

The tattoo on Tristan’s body was Scarlet’s mysterious symbol.
Exactly.

It was the doodle she drew on her shoes and her skin and on her notebook. The design that floated in and out of her thoughts and dreams. The symbol that managed to survive her memory wash.

The symbol Scarlet
knew
she was connected to.

And Tristan had it permanently inked onto his muscular body.

And it was a bit faded, suggesting the tattoo had been stitched into his skin for quite some time.

His eyes caught hers in the mirror and, for a split second, she thought everything was going to be okay. Tristan’s face softened at the initial sight of Scarlet standing in his doorway, but the moment quickly passed and was replaced with a tangible coldness.

He finished drying his face. “What are you doing?” he said to Scarlet’s reflection, not bothering to turn and look at her directly.

She blinked a few times, trying to compose both her surprise at his tattoo and shock at his tone. Although she tried to respond with an edge to her voice, her words came out small and soft. “Why do you have that tattoo?”

Tristan turned around to face her and looked down at the design on his ribcage. His eyes stayed lowered, although they left his tattoo and fell against a random spot on the floor. He inhaled through his nostrils, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

He was upset.

She could feel his fear and anger.

When his eyes made their way back to Scarlet’s face, there was a deadliness to them that hurt more than frightened her. “You first. Why are you spying on me?”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow, letting her curiosity about the tattoo override her hurt feelings. With as much attitude as she could muster she said, “Spying? You wish. I was looking for Gabriel.” Scarlet took a few confident steps toward Tristan, cocking her head to the side as she examined the tattoo. It was an exact replica of her drawing, down to the last detail. “You saw me draw that exact design on my hip. Why did I do that?”

His gaze didn’t falter, nor did his dark tone. “I don’t know.”

Scarlet watched him for a moment, unsure of what to think. If the mark she had been scribbling for the last two years was a tattoo from her boyfriend’s brother’s body…a tattoo that trailed down his ribcage and into his pants, then….

She looked down and away from Tristan.

No wonder Gabriel had been upset when he’d seen the drawing on her hip.

She had no words. Why would she come into this new life with almost no memory whatsoever but remember—in vivid detail, no less—Tristan’s tattoo?

All answers pointed to something Scarlet wasn’t ready to accept. She gradually pulled her head back up and looked at him, more closely this time.

His jaw was still locked and resistant. His body still tense and cold. But his eyes…the bright green depths of his eyes…were in pain.

There was no hatred in them, no apathy. Just sadness.

Her features must have reflected her thoughts because Tristan silently shook his head, lowering his brow in warning. Almost as if to say,
do not speak of this.

Scarlet’s chest rose and fell as she looked at him in silence.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Her eyes began to burn. They were probably glowing neon blue.

Wonderful.

She swallowed. “What do I not remember?”

Tristan’s green eyes flashed and Scarlet’s heart began to pump with a fervor like never before. Recklessly banging against her ribcage like it didn’t belong to her. Like it needed to break free.

Like it would tear her soul in half if only to escape….

“Scar,” he said, his voice cracking as he looked at her burning eyes. “You—“

“What did you call me?” His beautiful voice came over her ears and struck something deep and warm inside her. Something she remembered…loving.

“You need to get out of here.” He spoke firmly, but his eyes looked panicked.

“You called me…
‘Scar’
…” She took another step closer to him, her heart pulling her near, hammering madly inside her chest. Looking up at his handsome face, she tilted her head. Her voice was soft, curious, and aware. “You called me ‘Scar’…. That’s my name…‘Scar’….”

He opened his mouth like he was going to speak—

“Scarlet!” Gabriel’s voice carried down the basement stairs and into Tristan’s room, breaking the silence.

They looked away from one another and shifted in opposite directions.

Tristan turned and retreated to the master bath. Scarlet started walking, slowly and in a state of shock, back toward his door.

He called me Scar…. I remembered his tattoo…. What does this mean? Why can’t I remember?

Frustration filled her veins.

She hated her broken mind.

She hated the secrets Tristan was keeping from her.

And she hated that her eyes were still on fire.

Tristan came up behind her with a fresh shirt on and, without making eye contact, they exited the bedroom and made their way back up the stairs to where Gabriel and Nate were looking for Scarlet.

Scarlet’s heart thrummed away, refusing to calm down.

Partly due to her shock at seeing Tristan’s tattoo.

But also because she had something important to tell the guys.

Something critical.