Avow (33 page)

“Stop wiggling,” he said. “Please.”

She froze, tucking her lips in as she stared at the very large
ab
muscles right by her face.

“Okay,” Gabriel said calmly. “I’m going to hold you against me and sit us both up. So try to keep your face away from my body so I don’t hurt your nose, okay?”

Heather nodded at the
ab
muscle.

“And for the love of God,” he added, “don’t wiggle.”

“No wiggling. Right. Got it.”

Gabriel’s arms came down around her, his elbows bending so he could press her against him and he pulled her back up his body so she was now staring at his oversized
pec
muscles. Did he moonlight as a bodybuilder?

She shifted her nose away as instructed, turning her chin up so she was now staring at his face. At close proximity.

Very close proximity.

The van went over a few more bumps and their tangled bodies knocked together. Gabriel gritted his teeth and Heather bit back a smile.

She shifted her face again and her nose brushed against his skin.

“You
smell
good?” she accused. “How is that fair? You’ve been beaten and stabbed and kidnapped. You should at the very least smell like misery and hopelessness. Not,” she sniffed his chest again, “mountain rain or whatever the crap this is.”

His arms loosened around her. “Are you seriously smelling me right now?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t smell like a meadow—“

He sniffed her hair.

“Um, W-T-F, Gabriel?” She made a face at him.

“Why do you always smell like cupcakes? Hold still.” He took a deep breath and Heather’s body lifted as his chest filled with oxygen. She felt his body tense beneath her for a brief moment, and then he tucked her against him, twisted slightly to the side, and pulled them both up into a sitting position with his oversized abs of steel.

His arms were still around her body as they righted themselves and shifted into a haphazard sitting position. He slowly raised his arms back over her head, careful not to brush her nose as he did so until they were no longer tangled together.

Their eyes locked for a super awkward second and they both scooted in opposite directions, going back to their respective sides of the van. Not looking at each other.

Their bumpy trip continued, but the bumps were less awkward now that no body parts were rubbing together.

***************

Scarlet growled when her seatbelt wouldn’t come undone. “I hate your car, Tristan.”

They had just arrived at the forest and Nate was already out of the car and digging through the trunk for his gear. Because
his
seatbelt wasn’t the spawn of Satan.

“Here, let me do it.” Tristan reached over and brushed her hand away from the demon clasp.

A zing of pleasure skittered up her arm at his touch and she really wanted him to touch her again.

No she didn’t.

Yes she did.

He easily undid the belt buckle and freed her hips.

“Thanks,” she said, giving the seatbelt one last dirty look before climbing out of the car.

She and Tristan went to the trunk and started pulling out their supplies as well.

Their trip to Avalon forest had gone by swiftly. After leaving the cabin, they’d stopped by Laura’s house, which was technically still Scarlet’s house, but it no longer felt like home to her.

She expected to be sad and emotional when she walked inside, but instead she felt…nothing. So she ran around and packed up clothes and shoes for herself and Heather and then she left Laura’s house without looking back.

“Don’t you guys just love road trips?” Nate smiled as he shrugged into his backpack.

“Meh,” Scarlet said.

Tristan shrugged.

“Well, I love road trips. Molly and I used to go on road trips all the time. We would pack up the car and just drive—without a plan. We’d just go and go wherever the roads took us.” Nate kept smiling. “It was awesome. Freeing, you know? And we’d listen to music and sing off key and talk until all hours of the night.” He nodded. “I love road trips.”

Scarlet smiled. She liked it when Nate talked about Molly. It made her feel hopeful. Like maybe Nate wasn’t permanently broken. Maybe he would find love again. Did he
want
to find love again?

Scarlet secured her backpack to her shoulders and strapped a quiver to her back as Tristan armed himself with more weapons than she knew a person could carry at one time.

Grabbing her compound bow and throwing it over her shoulder, she then tucked two knives into her waistband
.

Tristan was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt—which was like his uniform, apparently—as he threw his own backpack on and started clipping things into place.

Tristan shut the trunk and looked at Scarlet. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’ll hike about a mile in to the cluster of large boulders where Raven and I met in my last life. Hopefully, that’s where Heather will be.”
And Gabriel.

Scarlet’s palms started to sweat. “If we come up from behind the rocks, I think we’ll have a better chance of viewing the meeting place without being seen. We can scope it out and see what our chances are of rescuing Heather without negotiating the map.”

“Awesome.” Nate grinned. “This is like epic camping. With bad guys.”

“And potential death,” Tristan added.

“I know.” Nate nodded, still grinning. “Epic.”

Scarlet took a deep breath and started for the trees. The last time she’d set foot in this forest, she hadn’t come out alive.

Guilt pressed against her lungs as she glanced at Tristan.

History was about to repeat itself.

CHAPTER 37

Gabriel and Heather were tethered to a handful of Ashman with leashes made of rope.

Like dogs.

The Ashmen led them through the forest with Raven as their leader.

Gabriel counted only twelve Ashmen in their immediate vicinity—all of whom had Bluestone weapons. Where were the rest of her minions?

Gabriel could probably take the nearest Ashmen out and attempt another escape, but he didn’t want to invoke the wrath of Raven and risk hurting Heather again.

Raven’s black hair swished across her back as she walked ahead of Gabriel and he noticed the Ashmen were loaded up with camping gear. Lots of camping gear.

How long did Raven plan on being out here?

Heather stumbled against her leash but quickly resumed her walking. He looked at her cut up bare feet and frowned.

“So Raven,” Gabriel tried to sound casual and friendly. “Where are we going?”

“Why are you talking?” she snapped.

“Because you forgot to gag me.” He stretched his neck. “How much longer until we get to wherever we’re headed?”

Raven whipped around and marched up to Gabriel.

“Whoa…” he said, caught off-guard by her appearance.

Raven looked older.
Much
older than she had a few hours ago.

Her dark hair was graying at the roots, the skin around her eyes was crinkled and weathered, and her cheeks were a bit sunken.

She no longer looked thirty. She looked fifty.

“It’s not pretty, is it?” Raven sneered. “I need that fountain
now
! And if you keep whining like a toddler I will break your neck over and over again until you beg to be mortal!” She screamed this at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the trees around them. “We will
get
there when we
get
there!”

Gabriel stared at the clearly-insane witch, speechless. Beside him, Heather looked terrified.

Raven started marching forward again, yelling at the Ashmen nearest her, “And why is everything on
fire
?! Put out the fires!”

Gabriel blinked. There were no fires anywhere.

Given that the witch was off her rocker and Heather was probably scared out of her mind, Gabriel decided not to talk anymore as they made their way deeper into the trees.

Heather winced as she stumbled over more sharp rocks. The Ashmen yanked on the ropes around her body, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground.

“What is the
problem
?!” Raven crazy-yelled, whipping around to glare at Heather. “Get up!”

With her wrists bound, it took Heather a moment to stand up and, when she did, she gingerly took a step forward on the rocks and looked like she was going to cry in pain.

Gabriel moved to help her but the leashes around his body tightened. “Faster!” Raven yelled.

“Here.” Gabriel shifted to kick his shoes off. “Heather can wear my shoes.”

Raven looked furious. “We do not have time for shoe switching!”

Good God. Could the woman yell any louder? And what was with her face? It was growing more wrinkled by the second.

“Heather can’t walk fast with bloody feet, Raven.”

She marched toward Heather with a knife in her hand. “Then I’ll just have to motivate her!”

Oh hell no.

“I’ll carry her!” Gabriel said, desperate. Again. He’d been desperate a lot lately.
“I’ll carry her the rest of the way. That way you won’t have to injure your leverage and we’ll get there faster.”

Please dear God, let this work.

Raven huffed. “Fine.” She pointed to an Ashman who picked up Heather and her bloody feet and brought her over to Gabriel.

Gabriel lifted his tied hands, making a hoop for the Ashman to move Heather’s body through so she was draped over his shoulder, then lowered them back down over Heather’s legs.

“Thanks,” Heather whispered by his ear.

Her breath warmed his neck and a funny sensation skittered inside him.

The skirt of her poufy, pink dress rode up a little and Gabriel smoothed his bound wrists down the back of her body in an attempt to pull it back down.

No dice.

“Let’s go!” Raven screamed, charging forward into the trees.

Gabriel maneuvered through the forest, feeling Heather’s upper body dangle off his back with every step.

“So…this is weird,” she muttered. “I bet you never thought you’d be carrying a girl over your shoulder through a forest filled with zombies.”

He smiled. “Uh, no.”

He looked down at her feet where blood still trickled from her many wounds and his smile faded.

She sighed. “I’m totally flashing everyone.”

“I’m pretty sure the Ashmen don’t give a damn.”

She dangled in silence for a moment. “Raven looks crazy old, doesn’t she? Like…scary old.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said quietly. “The water is wearing off really fast.”

He could hear Heather smile. “Hey, maybe she’ll die of old age and we can get the heck out of this weird Ashman dog-walking situation we’re in.”

He smiled. “That would be ideal.”

Raven led them down a steep hill and Gabriel shifted Heather’s body so he could hold her more securely as they descended, moving his tied hands up her legs.

“Hey now. Don’t try to cop a feel, Gabriel Michael.”

“Cop a feel?”

“Yes, mister. Keep your hands to yourself.”

He silently laughed. “I love how our lives are at risk and you’re worried about me feeling you up. Like this is somehow sexy for me.”

“What’s not sexy about old witches and dead guys and bloody feet? You don’t find this whole thing hot?”

“Not even a little,” he smiled. “And my middle name isn’t Michael.”

“What is it then?”

“I don’t have a middle name.”

“Well, you do now. Michael.”

He shook his head with a smile.

“Shut
up
!” Raven screamed.

They did.

Raven eventually led them to a valley of boulders and ordered the Ashmen to remove Heather from Gabriel’s shoulder and tie the two of them up against a set of large rocks.

Not comfortable.

Gabriel looked at Heather. “How are you doing?”

She shook her head. “Not good. I don’t feel right. I have a really bad headache and I keep seeing sparkles everywhere.”

Gabriel looked around. No sparkles.

He nodded. “It’s probably just the withdrawal setting in. I’m sure Tristan will get us out of here in no time. And then we’ll get you to the fountain so you don’t…see sparkles.”

Or die.

A twinge of protectiveness and fear struck his chest and he marveled at the feeling. He’d never felt protective of anyone other than Tristan and Scarlet before—and even then, the protectiveness that shot through him when he looked at Heather was…different.