Awry (18 page)

“Oh good, you’re here,” Nate said to Scarlet. He looked at Heather. “Howdy. What, uh…what are you doing here?”

Heather smiled. “Helping you find the fountain, of course.”

“No way.” Gabriel shook his head. “No mortals.”

Heather raised offended eyebrows. “Mortals?”

Nate smiled politely. “We’ve got this covered, Heather. Thanks, though.”

Heather gave them an oh-please look. “You’ve got ‘this covered’. You mean like the last few times you had it ‘covered’? The times when my B-F-F died? Yeah, you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t exactly trust that you’ve ‘got this covered’.” She kept making quotation marks with her fingers, her shiny nails glinting.

“Heather,” Gabriel rubbed the side of his face. “I don’t think you getting involved is a good idea. There are other factors involved this time, other threats.”

“You mean the ‘Ash’ person?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “We don’t know where he came from or what he is. Until we know just what we’re dealing with, I think it’s safer if you stay out of this. You don’t want an Ash guy coming after you.”

Heather ran a hand across one of the leather sofas. “First of all, you need to come up with a better name for this bad guy. Ash person? Really? That sounds like a guy who cleans chimneys.”

Nate snorted.

Heather pointed at Nate. “See? Even the nerdy guy agrees with me.”

Nate narrowed his eyes. “I am not nerdy.”

Heather looked him up and down. “You have on a Battlestar Galactica T-shirt and you’re wearing socks with sandals.”

Everyone looked at Nate’s footwear.

Nate shuffled his feet and explained, “My feet are cold because our replacement window still hasn’t come in and it is drafty in here.”

Heather waved him off. “My point is that the Ash guys—can we just call them Ashmen?—don’t scare me. What does scare me is the thought of my best friend dying. So I’m sticking around to ensure the safety of my friend.”

Gabriel exhaled. “You don’t understand. You’re completely defenseless. You’re—”

“Mortal?”

“Yes. The Ash guy—”

“Ashman,” Heather corrected.

Gabriel jutted his jaw. “—could come after you and then we’d have to protect you.”

Heather lifted her chin. “I don’t need protection.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Remember when that beetle was crawling on your backpack at school and you ran away screaming?” He paused. ”That was a bug. I don’t even want to imagine what kind of reaction you’d have if a man with a knife came after you.”

“I would be brave.” Heather stood up straight. “And I wouldn’t scream. Or cry.”

Scarlet bit back a smile.

Heather would absolutely scream. And cry.

“No,” Gabriel said.

“Listen.” Heather glared at him. “I love Scarlet just as much as you and I don’t want to sit on the sidelines doing nothing while you guys try to save her. Life is short.” She paused as she looked at Gabriel. “Well maybe not your life, but my life is short. And I want to do something meaningful with it. I want to have purpose. Something beyond Avalon fairs and Millhouse coffee and nail polish. Please. Let me help save my best friend’s life.”

“Nope.” Gabriel shrugged. “I’m not going to babysit you while we’re trying to undo the curse.”

Clearly annoyed, Heather whipped her head away from Gabriel and looked at Nate. “You’ll let me be a part of this, right? Because I love Scarlet and I’ll do anything to help.”

Nate hesitated. “Maybe.”

Heather smiled victoriously at Gabriel.

“Dude.” Gabriel gave Nate an are you kidding me? look.

Nate twitched his lips. “It wouldn’t be that bad. She could help keep an eye on Scarlet’s health condition and she can look stuff up online for us. And she knows what Battlestar Galactica is so—”

“Yes!” Heather started clapping.

Oh, geez. The clapping.

“No,” Gabriel said.

Nate shrugged. “Let her help.”

Gabriel looked at Nate. “And who’s going to stop the screaming when she breaks a nail. Or a limb?”

“I won’t get hurt. I’m tough,” Heather said.

Gabriel looked at her. “You are not tough.”

Heather frowned. “Do I look like some girlie, defenseless Barbie doll to you?”

Everyone examined Heather. She was wearing a fuzzy winter sweater that looked like it was made of feathers, a short wool skirt, and high-heeled, knee-length boots. Her giant purse, larger than her torso, was slung over her shoulder, and her blond hair fell in perfect curls around her head.

Looking down at herself, Heather puckered her lips. “Don’t answer that.”

Nate shrugged. “I don’t care who comes along on our fountain adventure. What I care about is the tree picture. And right now?” He drew everyone’s attention to the small drawing on the coffee table. “I’m stumped.”

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

Gabriel’s eyes fell to the old parchment paper. “You still don’t know what it means?”

Nate ran both hands through his hair. “It’s definitely from the sixteenth century, and it has the words Avalon and “eternal water” on it, so it’s safe to assume it has something to do with the fountain of youth. And Avalon. But the picture is meaningless without more information.

“What we need,” Nate continued, “aresome early journals or letters from the first settlers in Avalon. We need something that might shed more light on what an apple tree has to do with eternal water, if anything at all.”

Everyone in the room went silent as they stared at the old parchment on the coffee table.

Everyone but Heather, who kept clearing her throat.

Gabriel shifted his eyes to Heather, trying to look bored. “Yes?”

“Have you guys talked to Mr. Brooks yet?” she asked a little too sweetly.

Slowly and reluctantly, Gabriel asked, “Who is Mr. Brooks?”

“He’s the only living descendant of the founding family of Avalon.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Heather. “So?”

Heather shrugged. “I just so happen to know that he keeps his family’s private records in his cellar.” Heather started walking around the living room, touching things nonchalantly. “Things like journals…and maps….”

“Perfect!” Nate gave a little boy smile. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“It’s too bad Mr. Brooks is a paranoid recluse and doesn’t talk to strangers.” Heather sighed dramatically. “If only there were someone in town whose family brought him meals on Sundays…someone who always sings Christmas carols at his door and bakes him cookies for Easter every year….” Her hands traced along the wall until they met the blue tarp.

“Heather.” Gabriel slid his eyes to her, but she ignored him.

He casually walked over to her and gently caught her hand as it moved from the broken window to an end table. “Do you know Mr. Brooks?”

Heather turned a cunning smile on him. “I do.”

Gabriel released her hand, inhaled slowly, and pinched his lips together. “Will you please introduce us to him?”

He didn’t want Heather involved. But he also didn’t want Scarlet to die.

What to do, what to do.

Heather blinked pleasantly. “Why Gabriel, are you asking me to help you?”

He exhaled through his nose. “Maybe.”

“Does this mean I get to be part of the team?” She clapped her hands again.

“Yes,” Nate said.

“No,” Gabriel said at the same time.

“Duuuude,” Nate said to Gabriel between his teeth. “I really want to talk to this Mr. Brooks guy.”

“Fine.” Gabriel sighed. “Let her help. I don’t care. But if you die,” Gabriel pointed at Heather, “or get cursed or something, that’syour fault.”

Heather nodded merrily, still clapping. “Yay, I’m part of the team.”

“We’re not a team,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

Heather ignored him and looked at Nate. “I think we need a team name.”

“Ooh! Good idea.” Nate pointed a finger into the air. “How about Team Awesome?”

Heather wrinkled her nose. “Too vague. Team Super Secret Fountain Seekers?”

“Too specific.” Nate shook his head. “Team Ash Guy Hunters?”

“Ashman.” Heather shook her head. “Too hard to say.”

Nate scoffed. “And ‘Super Secret Fountain Seekers’ is easy to say?”

Gabriel huffed and started walking toward the door. “You guys can stay here and pick a name and a Team Captain or whatever, but I’m going to find Mr. Brooks.” He opened the door to leave, night falling on the forest around them.

Heather said, “Mr. Brooks doesn’t open his door when it’s dark outside.” She shrugged. “So we’re going to have to wait until tomorrow after school.”

Frustrated, Gabriel closed the cabin door on the setting sun. “Tomorrow then.”

“Perfect.” Nate nodded, shifting his eyes from Scarlet, to Gabriel, and then to Heather.

A moment passed.

“I call dibs on Team Captain,” Nate said.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

31

Scarlet stared over Gabriel’s shoulder at the tree picture for the hundredth time. He was sitting at the desk in his bedroom, Scarlet standing behind him.

Laura had called earlier to let Scarlet know she was going to be stuck in a meeting all night—what kind of work meetings took place at nighttime?—so Scarlet had decided to stay at the cabin a little longer.

Heather had already left, flying out of the dirt driveway so fast the trees that lined the road rustled after her.

Scarlet bit her lip. “Why would my mother keep an old drawing hidden in her brooch?”

Gabriel sighed. “I have no idea. Unless it wasn’t your mother’s at all.” He looked at Scarlet. “Maybe you found this drawing in your last life and hid it in the brooch then.”

Scarlet nodded, feeling like an idiot for not knowing what she’d done in the past. “Maybe. But that makes it even more strange. Why would I hide it? Why wouldn’t I tell you about it?”

Gabriel gave a sympathetic smile.

Scarlet sighed. “Because I was secretive in my last life. I know, I know.” She flopped down on Gabriel’s big bed and groaned into a pillow. “It sounds like I was a psycho in my last life.”

Gabriel laughed. “You weren’t psycho. You were just…frustrated. You wanted to find the fountain more than ever before and you were impatient and…and….”

“Psycho?” Scarlet sat up and frowned.

Gabriel stood up from his desk chair and walked to the bed. Taking Scarlet’s hands, he gently pulled her up. “No. You were desperate.” He kissed her cheek. “And I don’t blame you.”

“I hate being desperate,” Scarlet muttered. “And I hate my flashy eyes and my amnesia and the fact that Heather is trying to talk me into going to the Avalon Fair.”

Breathing out a laugh, Gabriel said, “The fair can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, but it is,” Scarlet said. “The only thing worse than the fair is the Kissing Festival.” She gave a fake shudder.

Gabriel smiled and kissed her lips. “The Kissing Festival wasn’t that bad.” He kissed her again, pulling her into his arms and setting his hands against her hips.

“Did you forget about the sidewalk dentist?” Scarlet said in between kisses. His lips were soft and full and warm. “It was pretty bad.”

“Mmm.” Gabriel’s mouth slid up her jaw slowly. “I try not to remember any dentists.”

Scarlet laughed as Gabriel’s lips tickled her ear before gliding down to her neck. Her laughter was quickly replaced with a hushed breath as she wrapped her arms around Gabriel and let his mouth trail down to her shoulder before meeting her lips again.

Sinking into the kiss, Scarlet thought back to Kristy’s words in chemistry.

See, Kristy? Here I am, making out with my gorgeous boyfriend in his bedroom because we’re hot. We’re on fire.

Scarlet eagerly kissed Gabriel back, heat rushing through her core as she parted her lips and felt his tongue against her own.

His hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt and his fingers padded along the bare skin of her back and hips.

Scarlet shivered with desire and pressed herself against him as she ran a hand down his back. He was so big and strong and he smelled so good and tasted so delicious.

Their mouths became a tangle of heat and wetness as Scarlet’s breaths grew heavy. She tilted her head against Gabriel’s. His hands slid up her ribcage and desire curled around her body, wrapping around her legs and stomach with tight warmth.

And then she felt it.

Jealousy.

No.

Ignore it. Just ignore it.

Scarlet arched her body into Gabriel’s and willed Tristan’s emotion away. She was trying to prove to Kristy—and to herself, of course—that she and Gabriel had heat. This was no time for Tristan to interfere.

But Tristan was there. Or, at least, his soul was. Floating inside Scarlet, absorbing what she felt. Hating what she felt.

The jealousy turned to sadness and Scarlet’s chest felt tight. She was breaking Tristan’s heart.

Gabriel’s hands were on her, his mouth was on her….

Gabriel was turned on.

But Tristan was sad.

And now…Scarlet was sad, too.

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

Tristan paced the small bedroom of the shack and kept rolling his shoulders. He could feel Scarlet’s desire for Gabriel crawling into his veins, tormenting him with heat.

Taking a long, deep breath, he tried to ignore Scarlet’s emotions.

He thrust his hands in his hair and squeezed his eyes shut.

But she was still there.

He turned on the radio and cranked the volume up.

But he could still feel her.

He paced. He cursed. He clenched his fists.

Scarlet was there, inside him. Everywhere.

Wanting Gabriel.

Breaking Tristan.

Enraged and helpless, Tristan grabbed the nearest object—a heavy book from the top of a short stack on the dresser—and threw it against the far wall with a grunt.

Go away.

Tristan had been connected to Scarlet for centuries, but he’d never been able to feel this. Their connection had never been so strong. So real. So…explicit.

He would almost rather die than experience one more moment of her passion for Gabriel.

He threw another book, the hardcover thudding against the wall as he sank to the floor and shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes.