Awry (4 page)

“Hey, hey!” Nate stepped forward and held up a hand. “I think we all just need to calm down for a minute.”

Gabriel and Tristan ignored him.

Through a series of punches and throws, the brothers fought with one another across the living room, knocking over furniture and slamming into walls.

Both of them hurt.

Both of them angry.

Both of them with no one else to blame.

Gabriel pushed his pent up frustration out through his fists, savoring the crack and thud of each punch to Tristan’s body.

Tristan fought back, gripping at Gabriel’s shoulders and tossing him to the side, throwing responsive punches straight into Gabriel’s nose.

Broken skin, bleeding cuts, bruised flesh…none of it was enough to fill the hole.

Gabriel grasped Tristan’s shoulders, raised him up, and shoved him into the large window at the back of the living room. The window cracked and shattered under the weight of Tristan’s body, pieces falling everywhere like glass raindrops.Beautiful and sharp, sprinkling the floor with a thousand pieces of something broken and destroyed by them.

Tristan caught himself on the window’s frame and hurled his body back at Gabriel, throwing another punch.

Gabriel filled with more darkness than ever before and it was empowering. He slammed his fist into Tristan’s head.

It felt good to fight; to blame. To be out of control and fueled by sadness.

He knew it.

Tristan knew it.

Nate, however, didn’t seem to understand.

“Stop it!” Nate’s voice was loud, but inconsequential. “Stop it!” He grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt and pulled him away from Tristan. Struggling to shake off his friend, Gabriel twisted and fought, but Nate held steady. “Cut it out. Both of you.” He looked at Gabriel first, then Tristan.

And then at the window.

“Seriously, guys?” Nate said. “The window?”

Tristan took a step back, never taking his eyes off Gabriel.

Breathing heavily, Gabriel shrugged Nate off and looked at his twin. “I hate you.”

Tristan pulled a shard of glass from his hand and spit blood onto the wood floor of the living room. “You too.”

“The next time you try to kill yourself,” Gabriel said, teeth gritted, “don’t screw it up. Just die.”

Nate held a hand up in between them. “Okay, okay—”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tristan’s eyes hardened as he took a step forward, glass crunching beneath his shoe.

“I would.” Gabriel nodded. “You’re poison to Scarlet. You sulk in the background like a quiet monster, slowly killing her from the inside out.”

Tristan lifted his chin defiantly. “At least I don’t beg her to love me like a lovesick puppy.”

Gabriel curled a lip and pushed Nate out of the way, charging at Tristan again. He had just fisted his shirt collar when Tristan suddenly winced and fell to his knees. But Gabriel was barely touching him.

What the hell?

Confused, Gabriel released Tristan’s collar and stepped back.

“What’s going on?” a soft voice said.

Gabriel turned to see Scarlet standing at the edge of the room, her big eyes taking in the sight of the destroyed furniture and bloody brothers. “What happened?”

“Scarlet?” Gabriel’s mouth fell open as he looked her over.

She was alive.

Like a light bulb switching on inside his soul, the darkness Gabriel had so willingly surrendered to just moments ago disappeared, replaced by a new, more powerful substance.

Hope.

6

Every piece of Tristan was screaming internally.

His lungs. His head. His heart.

He’d never experienced anything more excruciating in all of his existence.

But it was the best thing he’d ever felt.

Because pain—sickening, life-draining pain…pain that brought him to his knees and invaded his soul—this kind of pain always meant one thing.

Scarlet was alive.

His heart climbed up his chest. Eager. Desperate. Devouring the familiar pull of Scarlet’s heart. The agony made it impossible for him to move without groaning, but he didn’t care.

Because Scarlet was alive.

He could feel her raging heart beating with more fever than ever before, resounding in his chest and slowly bringing purpose back to his soul.

7

Tristan tried to die.

Scarlet could think of nothing else as she scanned the cabin’s living room. Gabriel’s muscular body blocked her view of the room as he hurried over to her.

His shirt was torn and his nose was bleeding as he gently cupped her face. “I thought I lost you,” he said with emotion. “I was so scared.” Scarlet looked into her boyfriend’s deep brown eyes. Why had he thought he lost her?

Scarlet watched Nate rush up to her as well. “Scarlet! Do you remember us?” He flittered around her in bafflement.

Turning her face away from Gabriel’s hands, Scarlet stared at Nate. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

She looked around the room. Where was Tristan? Was he safe? Was he alive?

“Because you….” Nate looked her over, his eyes perplexed. “You were dead.”

Scarlet stopped her search and spun her head to Nate, her mouth falling open. “I was what?”

I died? I died?

“How the crap did that happen?” Scarlet looked around in confusion, blinking at the scene before her.

The living room was trashed; the end tables were overturned, the large back window was completely shattered, and there were blood splatters on the floor.

Gabriel touched a hand to her arm, letting his fingers graze her skin. “Tristan rigged an arrow to kill himself tonight so he could save you, but you went after him in the woods and the arrow hit you instead.”

Scarlet blinked.

Tristan had tried to end his life for her. His stupid, selfless heart had tried to leave her alone in this world. And she had almost been too late to save him.

Thick emotion sloshed up against the walls of her throat and she hurried to swallow it down, the sting of tears hiding behind her eyes.

She’d almost lost the boy she couldn’t remember.

Scarlet stepped into the living room and her eyes found Tristan.

He was on his knees in the center of the room, grimacing with his eyes closed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and small cuts covered his face. His hair was a mess, his clothes were a mess and his hands—Scarlet swallowed—his hands were completely covered in blood.

And he was in unbearable pain.

Not because of the cuts and bruises that were quickly healing across his immortal body, but because of her. She could feel her nearness wrapping around his insides with merciless torture.

“Tristan…” she whispered.

Nate looked at Tristan’s grimace in puzzlement. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

With his eyes still shut, Tristan took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“Uh…you don’t look fine.” Nate left Scarlet’s side and stepped closer to Tristan. “Are you in pain?”

Scarlet looked at Gabriel’s torn shirt and then at Tristan’s bloody mouth. Had they fought each other?

Tristan slowly rose from his knees and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he repeated. He opened his eyes and stretched his neck.

Tristan and Gabriel were identical twins, save for their eye colors. Gabriel’s eyes were a dark brown while Tristan’s were a brilliant green.

A captivating green.

Scarlet could feel the torment ripping through Tristan as he tried to act casual. She took a step forward, wanting to relieve his pain in some way. Wanting to reach into Tristan’s chest and pull out all the anguish with her hands.

Their eyes locked on one another.

Tristan slowly shook his head, as if warning Scarlet not to draw attention to his pain. Because of their connection, Scarlet knew he could feel every emotion running through her.

But she could feel him too. Which was why she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Yes,” Scarlet confessed. “Tristan is in pain.”

Tristan looked at her darkly.

Too bad, Tristan. You don’t get to pretend like you’re superman.

Nate swung confused eyes to Scarlet. “How do you know?”

Scarlet blinked. “Because I…I can feel him.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched.

“You can feel him?” Nate looked alarmed.

Scarlet nodded.

Uh-oh. Was that not normal?

Gabriel let out a strained exhale and rubbed the side of his face.

“Since when?” Nate asked.

Scarlet licked her lips. “Uh…for the last few months?”

Tristan looked at the floor as awkwardness bumbled around the room.

Being emotionally “connected” to your boyfriend’s twin brother didn’t make for comfortable group situations.

Or one-on-one situations.

Or any situations involving feelings…or sexual tension….

Tristan glanced at Scarlet.

Awkward.

Nate looked at Scarlet seriously. “You’ve never been able to feel Tristan in your other lives.”

“I haven’t?” Scarlet‘s eyes widened.

Ah. Now she understood Tristan’s warning. They were more connected than they were supposed to be and Tristan didn’t want to draw attention to that.

Oops.

“No.” Nate shook his head. “This is new. This is… strange. Your connection shouldn’t be so strong. Tristan should be able to feel you. Butyou feeling him? That’s not normal.”

Great. That’s what Scarlet needed. Another abnormality to add to her ever-growing list of Things-That-Make-Me-Weird.

Gritting his teeth, Tristan sucked in a strained breath. Scarlet felt another ripple of pain roll over him and it almost caused her knees to buckle.

How was he not screaming out loud?

“Something’s wrong.” Nate looked at Tristan’s clenched teeth. “Even with a stronger connection to Scarlet, you shouldn’t be in pain when she’s this close to you.”

“I’m fine.” Tristan stretched his neck again. “Seriously.” He looked at Scarlet again, his green eyes deep and heavy.

Less than an hour ago, those green eyes had begged her not to die, begged her not to leave him as they washed over her face.

Those green eyes had secrets.

Another wave of pain assaulted Tristan and Scarlet’s lips parted in response.

Her heart kicked forcefully inside her, drawing her to him with every hot pulse. If she could just touch him, maybe all his torment would go away. If she could just press a fingertip to his cheek…or his chest…or to the dark tattoo he had hidden beneath his torn shirt. The tattoo that wrapped around his hip and dove below his waist….

Tristan glared at her.

Right.

Scarlet blinked herself out of his eyes and back to the present. Nate’s mouth hung open and his brows furrowed as he looked at Tristan.

Tristan snapped, “Quit staring at me, Nate. I’m fine.”

Nate squinted at Tristan. “Right.” He turned to Scarlet. “So back to you. You’re, uh…you’re alive.”

“Yep.” Scarlet nodded, still not believing she had died. “When did I…?”

“Like, five minutes ago.” Nate looked into the kitchen, where the table was covered in blood. “Your heart stopped beating and then all hell broke loose in the living room and then bam! you just…came back to life. So weird.”

Scarlet looked at the kitchen and felt sick. Blood was everywhere. On her dress, the table, the floor. Her bare feet were sticky with blood as she shifted her weight. “Are you sure I wasn’t just like…in a coma or something?”

“Oh, you were dead,” Nate nodded. “You didn’t have a pulse.”

Scarlet looked at her hands, turning her palms over. “Did my body vanish?”

“Nope.” Nate scratched the back of his head. “That’s why it’s so weird.” He looked at her eyes again. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…normal.” She watched Tristan roll his shoulders with his eyes closed. The muscles in his neck shifted beneath the movement.

Nate twitched his lips. “Hmm.” He went to the kitchen and returned with a small flashlight in his hands. Clicking it on, he started examining her irises, pulling at the skin beneath her eyes to get a better look.

“Before you died, your eyes were glowing and your nose was bleeding. But now….” He clicked off the flashlight. “Now, you seem healthy.” Nate moved behind Scarlet and slowly peeled away her bandage.

Ouch.

“And your wound is completely healed,” he murmured.

Scarlet slapped a hand to her back and felt around. No scars, no wound…just smooth skin.

Nate said, “It looks like your body has completely reset itself.”

“Huh.” Scarlet nodded once. “So that’s…good? That means we have more time to find the fountain, right?”

The fountain of youth was the only sure way to cure Scarlet’s heart and undo the curse. Tristan’s immortal blood was embedded in her heart from a previous arrow incident—apparently, the two of them couldn’t be around an arrow without one of them getting shot—and now Scarlet’s heart was a ticking time bomb, slowly being ripped apart. The fountain was their only hope.

“I hope so,” Nate said. “But hey! It doesn’t really matter how much time we have because you know where the fountain is. So, yay…” He weakly pumped a fist in the air.

Scarlet looked at him in bewilderment.

Nate’s face fell. “You don’t remember, do you?”

Scarlet shook her head. “Remember what?”

Ah, crap.

Do I have amnesia again?

Nate exhaled. “After you were…shot, you told Tristan you knew where the fountain was.”

“I did?” Scarlet’s heart started to race. She glanced at Gabriel, who offered a shrug, then at Tristan, who gave her a single nod.

“Think,” Nate said emphatically. “Really think.”

Scarlet shook her head. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Do you remember anything? Your previous lives? Your history? Anything?” Nate looked hopeful and desperate.

Scarlet tucked her lips in as she thought. “I remember my last life. With you guys…and the cabin. I remember having amnesia.” Wow, that sounded weird. “And I remember Laura…and school….”

“You remember your last life, here in Avalon, but no lives before that?” Nate asked.

“Just the bits and pieces I put together before I was shot.”

Tristan gently asked, “And you don’t remember saying you knew where the fountain was?”