Heather’s bright voice carried on, “Would a zombie bring you coffee? Probably not. Because zombies aren’t very thoughtful. They’re always trying to eat your brains out and everything.”
Scarlet opened an eye, looked at the Millhouse to-go cup in Heather’s hand, and inhaled. “You’re pure evil.” She slowly pulled herself up and took the coffee into her own hands.
“That’s what I’ve been saying. Hot Evil Girl Zombie. I think I just figured out my Halloween costume.” Heather wagged her eyebrows.
Scarlet took a sip of the café mocha, made a Mmmm noise and looked at Heather. “So, why are you here at this ungodly hour?”
Heather looked at the clock beside Scarlet’s bed. “It’s 11:00 a.m., Scarlet.”
“It’s ungodly a.m., that’s what it is. And it’s summer. You’d better have a good reason for disturbing my slumber.”
“I do. Today, you and I are going shopping.”
“Why? It’s not payday.”
“Why?” Heather looked incredulous. “Because we need something fabulous for you to wear on your date with Gabriel tonight.”
Scarlet took another drink. “It’s not a date.”
“It’s so a date.”
Scarlet shook her head. “We’re just, you know, hanging out.”
“Yeah, you’re just hanging out. The two of you. Alone. Going to the movies. Having dinner. Hanging at The Kissing Festival. Yeah, nothing about that sounds romantic or date-like at all.”
Scarlet raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond.
It was a date. Scarlet knew it.
Two days ago, she didn’t want to date anybody. But something about Gabriel had completely changed her mind.
Maybe it was the way he looked at her.
Maybe it was his familiar voice….
Why did his voice seem so familiar, but nothing else about him triggered any memories?
Heather continued, “And even though I think Gabriel’s full of secrets, I still support you dating him. Mostly because you need to get kissed. Like, bad.”
“Gabriel’s not full of secrets.” Even as she said it, a warning bell went off in Scarlet’s head. A bell Scarlet smothered with memories of Gabriel’s adorable dimples and deep brown eyes.
“Uh, yeah he is. He was all hesitant and careful last night, giving vague answers about his life. He’s definitely hiding something.”
“Just because he doesn’t want to share his life story with us doesn’t mean he’s hiding something.” Scarlet took a sip of coffee.
Heather thought about it for a moment and shook her head. “No. No, it’s more than that. I can feel it. Something’s…hidden. I just don’t know what.”
The bell blared in Scarlet’s head again.
Shut up, bell.
Scarlet purposely rolled her eyes. “Can’t you be supportive like a normal best friend and just be like ‘oh, Gabriel’s so hunky and you should totally marry him and have little Greek god babies with him’?”
“Oh, you totally should. You two would for sure have Greek god babies together,” Heather said. “And I am being supportive. I’m taking you shopping.”
“At the crack of dawn.”
“You mean the crack of noon? Yep, that’s me. Waking you up before the sun sets. What can I say? I’m an evil zombie.”
Scarlet yawned. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Yes. I am. Now,” Heather stood from the bed and straightened her sundress, “we are going shopping in ten minutes. Get dressed. And when I say ‘get dressed’, I mean, ‘let me pick out your clothes’.”
Heather disappeared into Scarlet’s closet as Scarlet set her coffee cup down and crawled back under the sheets.
7
Ready for his night with Scarlet, Gabriel whistled as he made his way downstairs. As silly as it seemed, his palms were sweaty.
Not with nervousness, but with excitement.
The thought of being back in Scarlet’s life made his heart incredibly happy.
Tristan, dressed in all black with a long dagger in his hand, exited the den as Gabriel reached the main floor.
Gabriel stopped whistling and paused. “Please tell me you’re going to a ninja convention.”
“Nope.” Tristan didn’t make eye contact as he walked past his brother and entered the kitchen.
Gabriel followed after him. “Then why are you dressed like a ninja?”
In the kitchen, Tristan started making coffee. “I’m not dressed like a ninja.”
“Black pants, black shirt…weapon…? Total ninja outfit.”
Tristan shrugged.
“And why are you making nighttime coffee?” Gabriel looked his brother over a moment before it dawned on him. “Dude. Are you going to kill someone tonight?”
“Hopefully,” Tristan said, setting down the dagger and grabbing a coffee mug.
Gabriel groaned.
His brother, a murderer. It just seemed wrong.
Fitting, for Tristan’s dark and bitter personality, but wrong.
But what was Gabriel going to do, stop him? No.
If Tristan broke the curse, Scarlet would live, and that’s what Gabriel truly wanted.
What he didn’t want was his crazy brother slashing up the townsfolk while he was out trying to enjoy his time with Scarlet.
“Come on, Tristan. How about you wait a day or two? How am I supposed to relax on my date with Scarlet tonight if I know you’re off playing Ninja Assassin around town?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’d hate to ruin your date with my inconvenient trying-to-save-Scarlet’s-life plan.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if you kill this poor guy and nothing changes?”
“It’ll work.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Nate said so.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Nate is crazy.”
Nathaniel Fletcher was their oldest friend and a bit of a curse expert. He’d been trying to help resolve the hex for years.
Without results.
“Nate doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Tristan. He’s speculating.”
“No, he’s not. If I’m successful tonight, the curse will be broken and Scarlet will live.”
Tristan sounded casual. Like ending a life was no big deal.
Gabriel shook his head. “What you’re doing is wrong.”
Tristan poured himself coffee and took a sip. “Maybe. But it’s worth it.” He put his mug down. “I won’t stop until it’s over, Gabe. This needs to end—for all of us.”
Gabriel jutted his jaw. He didn’t like Tristan’s dedication to the whole “murder” thing.
But still.
The three of them had suffered the curse for a long time, and a cure—any cure—sounded appealing.
Tristan finished his coffee and moved to leave the kitchen. But first he grabbed the knife off the counter and strapped it to his back.
Awesome.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously going out with a dagger strapped to your back? You might as well just wear a sign that says Look at me, I’m a killer!”
“Actually, yes. I have to take the dagger.”
Gabriel smirked. “Well, I’m not bailing you out of jail when you get pulled over for speeding and have to explain why you’ve got a medieval knife on your back like a psycho.”
Tristan shrugged. “Hopefully, you won’t have to.”
“You’re crazy,” Gabriel said.
“One of us has to be,” Tristan said as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
“I hate you,” Gabriel called out half-heartedly as Tristan exited.
Before the door closed, Gabriel heard Tristan holler back, “You too!”