Chelsea Fine - Awry

Scarlet found her voice. “Why do you need the map so bad?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Because, in my quest for power, I consumed a drop of fountain water and now I am utterly addicted.”

Scarlet took a step back to shield Heather even more. “I don’t have the map.”

Raven sighed. “Listen, I’m quickly running out of fountain water and a face like this,” she pointed to her chin, “needs to stay young. I’m down to my last few doses and I do not have time to run around and resurrect the dead hoping to pull the right memories out of Heather’s silly head. So we’re going to skip all the Head Ghost stuff and go right to the part where you give me the map, and I don’t kill the annoying blond.”

“No,” Scarlet said automatically.

Raven dropped her head back for a moment, letting out a groan. “You are so stubborn. I swear.” She looked back at Scarlet, the crossbow aimed right at her heart. “I don’t know what either Gabriel or Tristan ever saw in you.”

“Maybe they liked that I wasn’t crazy,” Scarlet quipped.

Raven’s eyes were cold steel. “I’m not crazy.”

Scarlet narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired witch. “You’re playing with dead people. That’s crazy.”

“Well, if you give me the map, I won’t have to play with dead people anymore.”

“I don’t have the map,” Scarlet repeated, looking around for something—anything—she could use as a weapon.

“You know,” Raven said, stepping forward, “I tried to do this the nice way. I tried to be civil. But since you’re hell-bent on making my life suck and you tend to get a little feisty when I confront you….” Raven gave a nod to something behind Scarlet and, before she knew what was happening, splitting pain coursed through Scarlet’s head as something hit her.

Scarlet fell to the ground, her eyes closing against the throbbing torment in her head and her mind spinning out of control.

She heard Heather trying to yell beneath her gag. She heard a rustling. But she couldn’t move.

“That should keep you down for a few minutes,” Raven said.

Scarlet cracked an eye open and tried to pull herself up. The dizziness sent bile up her throat and her limbs felt like pudding.

Raven kicked at Scarlet’s ribcage and thrust something heavy against her chest, and Scarlet grunted as the air left her lungs.

Watching Raven step over her body, Scarlet saw Heather’s terrified eyes glancing to the side where an Ashman was untying her.

Scarlet tried to yell, but her lungs wouldn’t work.

The Ashman finished with Heather’s ropes, keeping the gag in her mouth, and yanked Heather into his arms. Heather kicked and thrashed about, but the Ashman was too powerful for her to fight off.

Scarlet tried to roll over. She had to get to Heather, she had to save her.

Crawling up to her knees, Scarlet felt a surge of adrenaline rush into her veins and a flicker of hope began to bloom. Maybe she could do this. Maybe she could still save Heather.

One Ashman and one Raven wasn’t too hard. Right?

Scarlet began crawling forward on her hands and knees.

Raven let out an unhappy exhale. “You are ridiculous. You can’t just stay down like a normal little girl? You have to fight and be brave?” Raven gripped a handful of Scarlet’s hair and yanked, forcing Scarlet to look up into the face of the woman who had caused her so much pain over the centuries. “Fine,” Raven said. “Have it your way.”

Scarlet was unable to make her hands cooperate with her brain in time to shield her head from the heavy end of the crossbow coming down on her.

With a heavy thud, the blunt object struck Scarlet’s skull and sent her into darkness.

Tristan tore through the onslaught of Ashmen one after another, never stopping to nurse injuries, never stopping for a breath.

He panted and growled and slashed his way through the mass of soulless creatures that separated him from Scarlet, who had been running high on fear just moments ago until her emotions had suddenly fallen silent.

Her heart was still beating, but the rest of her was eerily quiet. Tristan needed to get to her immediately.

He ran a dagger straight through the throat of his current opponent, flinging off the Ashman’s head with the flat end of the blade and marched forward to the next monster.

He crossed his daggers through the Ashman’s chest and put him down. Two more Ashman charged at him and Tristan thrust both daggers out simultaneously, running them through the hearts of his attackers with careful precision. They fell to the ground and Tristan withdrew his blades, ready for more.

But no more came.

Nate was a good distance away, standing over his most recent kill, Seeing there were no more immediate threats, Tristan took off at a run, tracking Scarlet’s faint heartbeat to the center of the graveyard.

He found her body limp beside a large tree, no sign of anyone else around. Without thought, he fell to his knees beside her and gathered her into his lap. “Scarlet.” No response. “Scar.”

She was alive. She was unconscious, but he could feel her heartbeat—

And then it was gone.

Torn abruptly from his chest, Tristan lost her heart completely.

His body was absent of her pulse, empty of her soul.

He was alone.

“ Scar !”

Scarlet felt energy rush into her with a ferocity that matched nothing else. Pumping through her body it was like drowning in life, it forced her eyes to fly open.

The first thing she saw—the only thing she saw—was Tristan, staring at her with heartbreak on his face and glowing green eyes. Relief surged out of him as he pulled her up against his chest and muttered, “Oh thank God, thank God.”

Scarlet let her eyes fall closed against his warm body and let the love and regret and loyalty and fear from his heart pour out of him and swarm into her.

He loved her.

She could feel every tendril of every fiber inside his soul.

And his soul sang for her.

“I can’t feel you,” Tristan said, pulling back from her and looking over her body. “I can’t feel your heart.” Scarlet felt the fear, sadness and confusion that tumbled about inside him.

“But I can still feel you,” Scarlet looked at his glowing eyes.

She gasped with a realization. “The transition is complete.”

Tristan blinked and his lips parted.

In an instant, thousands of memories assaulted Scarlet’s mind, bursting in her brain like fireworks. A storm of knowledge and time filled her head and Scarlet jumped to her feet, her amnesia completely gone.

She knew who she was.

She knew exactly who she was.

“We have to go,” she said in a no-nonsense manner as she watched Tristan get to his feet as well. “Raven has Heather.”

A muscle flexed beneath his chin. “Okay, why don’t you go back to the cabin with Nate—”

“No.” Scarlet stepped over and stuck her hand into Tristan’s coat, retrieving a dagger from the waist of his jeans. Holding it up to the moonlight, she examined it to ensure it was still coated in dried blood. “I’m not going anywhere, Hunter.”

Tristan cocked his head to the side. “What did you just call me?”

“Hunter.” Scarlet raised a brow.

Tristan’s eyes searched her face carefully. “Do you remember me?”

Scarlet gave him a mischievous smile. “I remember everything .”

She met his stunned gaze with hope and determination filling her soul. “We have to find Heather. Are you with me?”

He gave her a smile that spoke a thousand words and flashed a thousand memories. “Always.”