She let her body fall to a heap on the earth beside her enemy, wanting to cry and scream for everything that was unfair and everything she couldn’t fix.
But instead, she whispered, “Tristan.”
Because somewhere inside her, Tristan was there, coming for her, feeling her, scared for her. He was sad. He was scared. And he was so in love.
He was getting closer, making her pain more acute, but her death more bearable. He loved her so much, it filled up more than the air in his lungs and the blood in his veins.
He was powerful. He was mad. He was everything she wanted forever.
And she was losing him.
She felt his gripping love for her wrap around her soul and tuck her in, rocking her to sleep through the blinding pain that took the light from her burning eyes and stole her away, once again, into death.
CHAPTER 35
The worst way to wake up, Heather decided, was tied to a freezing cold pillar with rope burns on her wrists and a half-naked immortal guy hanging across from her.
Gabriel shifted his body and his stomach muscles flexed with the movement.
Okay, so maybe the half-naked immortal guy part wasn’t all that bad.
“So…” Heather nodded slowly. “We’re still here.”
“Yep. I think your team of SWAT guys got lost. Probably looking for their shirts.”
She made a face at him. “You’re effing hilarious.”
“I try.”
Heather wiggled her freezing toes. She could really go for a
blanky
or some long underwear. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the pillar. “I want to go home.”
“You will,” Gabriel said. “Soon.”
“Is that right?” she said dryly.
He nodded. “Tristan won’t stop until he finds us. Well, until he finds
me
. He’ll find
you
by default.”
“How are you so sure Tristan will track you down?”
“Because if Tristan had been kidnapped, I wouldn’t stop until I found him and got him the hell out of wherever he was. He’ll find us.”
“I hope you’re right.” A shiver went through her as she shifted against the pillar. “It’s so cold.”
Gabriel scoffed. “Try hanging out without a shirt on.”
Their eyes met.
Awkward.
He cleared his throat and looked at the ground while Heather tried not to think about being tied up and topless with Gabriel.
Another shiver went through her. “Do you think the Hostage Hotel serves food? A bagel sounds good—Ooh, or a cappuccino. A cappuccino sounds delicious.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Raven’s whipping up a five-star breakfast for us in her Millhouse apron right now.”
“Wow. You’re king of sarcasm today.”
“
Maybe sarcasm is how I cope
,” he mocked.
“Ha. Ha.” Heather shifted again and winced as the ties around her wrists cut into her raw skin. She frowned at the crappy rope. “Your ex-girlfriend sucks, Gabriel.”
“Yeah, yeah. I have terrible taste in women.” He jiggled his own ties, staring up at them like maybe he’d overlooked a secret trap door out of the bindings.
“Not entirely. I thought Scarlet was a good choice.”
Heather watched as the skin around his wrists tore open against the rope, only to immediately close back up.
“Yeah.” He twisted his arms. “But Scarlet wasn’t really a choice.”
Heather blinked. “Wait, what?”
“Tristan was with her first, but he asked me to marry her when he was sent off to war,” he said casually.
Like this wasn’t a giant bombshell that changed everything in the whole freaking world.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up, Romeo.” Heather was fully awake now. “Start at the beginning.”
Gabriel stopped wiggling his ties and briefly recounted how Scarlet and Tristan had been engaged, but Tristan had been sent away and asked Gabriel to marry Scarlet in his place so she would be taken care of. And then how Gabriel and Scarlet had grown close, only to have Raven shoot Scarlet through the heart with an arrow on their wedding day.
Heather’s mouth hung open as Gabriel finished his story. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what?” he said.
She shrugged—or at least tried to shrug. Shrugging while tied to a block of ice was difficult. “Why you and Scarlet don’t have chemistry. I always thought it was strange—like how can two people who so obviously care about one another not have chemistry? But now it makes sense.”
He frowned. “Scarlet and I have chemistry.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Don’t get me wrong. You’re both hot and you look great together, but there’s no passion between you guys. Like at all. And you
never
fight. It’s super strange.”
“We’ve fought,” he said.
“Really? Over what?” she challenged.
He furrowed his brow.
“Wow. If it’s that hard to remember a fight, then you’ve never had any fights worth remembering.” Heather shook her head.
“Who wants to have memorable fights?”
“People who are passionate about each other!” she said. “Geez, Gabriel. Haven’t you ever wanted to kiss someone and kill them at the same time?”
“No.”
Heather opened her mouth, but no words came.
O-M-G.
Gabriel had never had chemistry with someone. He’d never had
love
.
Even though Heather knew that’s what the curse was, she’d never really believed it.
But now…
Heather swallowed. “Well, even if you’ve never experienced it, surely you’ve seen what it looks like when two people are in love. Not just loving each other—like you and Scarlet—but
in
love with each other. It looks…I don’t know. It just looks like chemistry.”
“I know what chemistry looks like.” His eyes fell to the floor for a moment. “Tristan,” he said, lifting his eyes back to hers. “Scarlet and I have fought before. About Tristan.”
Of course.
The door to the warehouse creaked open and Raven walked into the room.
Wearing bunny slippers.
Uh…
Heather blinked and the bunny slippers morphed into a pair of evil-looking heels—which made more sense.
She was hallucinating again. Awesome.
Lack of food and sleep was clearly taking its toll.
But bunny slippers didn’t sound half bad.
“Ransom day,” Raven announced as she walked to the table and started preparing to take more of Gabriel’s blood. “Who’s excited?”
Gabriel looked bored while Raven drained another pint from him and sealed it in another vampire baggie.
Heather cleared her throat. “Um, Raven?”
“What?” she snapped, withdrawing the needle and tubing from Gabriel’s neck.
Heather licked her lips. “Could I maybe get some coffee?”
Gabriel made a face. “You have a problem.”
Cocking her head to the side, Raven smiled at her. “You’ve become quite the fan of my coffee. I bet you’re just
dying
to get more.”
“Uh…” Heather wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Ah, hell,” Gabriel muttered as he glowered at Raven. “What did you do?”
Raven shrugged as she set the baggie of Gabriel’s blood on the table next to the scissors. “I needed insurance, so I’ve been tainting Heather’s coffee for the past few weeks with fountain water.”
Heather’s throat constricted in fear.
Gabriel said, “You’ve been poisoning Heather?”
Raven sighed. “Yes. The girl just couldn’t get enough of my coffee. I had to cut her off from the good stuff a few days ago.”
“So I’m like a…like a drug addict now?” Heather squeaked the words out.
“Yep,” Raven said.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
Heather didn’t do drugs. Not ever.
Raven looked at Gabriel. “This way, if Scarlet doesn’t come through with the map, she’ll have to find the fountain to save Heather. At which point, you and I,” she ran a purple fingernail down the center of his bare chest, “will just follow her there. But until then, Heather over here is going to be pretty thirsty.”
Raven turned to Heather. “I’d offer to give you more, but I took my final dose last night. And since the only cure is the one Avalon fruit by the fountain, you might be screwed.”
Heather couldn’t think. Or breathe.
“What’s the matter? Not feeling well?” Raven eyed her carefully. “I’m sure the withdrawals will start kicking in soon. It shouldn’t be long before the hallucinations begin. And then comes the madness.”
“I’m going to go crazy?”
“Only if you don’t get more fountain water. First you’ll go crazy,” Raven shrugged, “and then you’ll die.”
***************
Scarlet woke with stiff arms and legs and her head hurt. Semi-painful sleep wasn’t very satisfying. Still wrapped in the scent of Tristan, she rolled out of the big, white bed and padded across the floor. Opening the door, she stepped into the hallway and tripped over something that grunted on the floor.
Looking down, she saw Tristan sprawled on his back outside her door, an arm behind his head as if he was perfectly comfortable snoozing on the hard basement floor. He stared up at her with sleepy green eyes.
“What are you doing?” She put her hands on her hips.
He yawned. “Sleeping as close to your stubborn ass as possible so you don’t toss and turn on that noisy bed,” he looked at her pointedly, “in
pain
.”
Crap. The stupid bed had given her away.
He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, his shirt lifting just enough for her to see his tattoo and her insides got all soft and warm.
Moving her eyes back to his, she tried to glare at him through all the fluttering in her stomach. “You slept in the hallway all night?”
He dropped his arms and gave her a crooked smile. “You’ve been awake for thirty seconds and you’re already angry with me?”
“Yes, Tristan,” she said. “You can’t just sleep in the hallway because I’m tossing and turning.”
“I can.” He stretched out a kink in his neck. “And I will. Come on. Let’s go have breakfast.” He held out his hand.
Scarlet stared at it.
Like she was going to latch onto him with her touch of death.
“No?” He shrugged and let his hand drop as he headed up the stairs. “It was worth a try.”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, following after him, completely confused by his chipper mood.
“By the way,” he looked over his shoulder and ran his eyes up and down her body. “I like you in my clothes.”
He smiled—truly smiled—dimples and everything. She eyed him suspiciously as he walked up the stairs and tried to tap into his feelings.
Happiness. Relief. Hope. Love.
Realization struck her. He was happy because he no longer hurt her.
Tristan stopped at the top of the stairs and stared down at her, still smiling. “You coming, or what?”
This wasn’t the dark, tormented Tristan from her previous lives looking at her with his little boy grin.
This was Hunter.
Which was wonderful and terrible at the same time.
Bossy, dark Tristan Scarlet could avoid.
But charming, sweet Tristan?
Scarlet was going to be putty in his hands.
No
.
I will not be putty. I will be hard as a rock. Like Play-
Doh
left in the backyard on a hot summer day.
Tristan stared down at her with his patient dimples.
I am dried Play-
Doh
.
Scarlet hardened her face and walked up the steps, trying to focus on something other than his sleepy warm body and mussed up hair.
She cleared her throat as she ascended. “I was thinking maybe Nate could track Heather and Gabriel’s cell phones. There’s always the possibility their phones are nearby wherever they are. Maybe he could get a GPS location from that.”
She reached the main floor and stood before Tristan, who wasn’t moving.
She waited.
He smiled.
With rolling eyes, she brushed past him, their chests rubbing together as she moved into the main hallway. Bliss skittered through her veins and her knees weakened for the briefest of moments. Tristan smiled.
Damn him.
Scarlet walked to the kitchen and watched him open the pantry and grab various things.
“An-y-way,” she said. “I thought the cell phones might be a good place to start.”
“Uh-huh.” He grabbed things from the fridge.
Scarlet sat down at the bar counter. “And then maybe we could go back to the graveyard and see if there are any Ashmen roaming about that we could follow back to Raven’s hiding place.”