“Think about this.” Tristan took a step toward him. “That very thing you just mentioned…dying over and over again? That’s what Scarlet’s been doing—for five hundred years.”
Silence fell between them.
“You don’t have to do it for me,” Tristan sighed, “but …could you just…do it for her?”
Nate hesitated before shaking his head. “I can’t help you find a way to kill yourself. It feels…wrong.”
Tristan clenched his jaw and moved to leave.
“Hey.” Nate said.
Tristan turned around.
“Gabriel said you’re in more pain this time? That you can’t even sleep?”
Tristan shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
Nate narrowed his eyes. “It’s not just you. Scarlet’s illness is accelerating faster than it should. What changed?” He squared his jaw. “What happened in her last life?”
Tristan tried to look innocent.
No such luck.
“Don’t play with me, man. I know how the curse works, and I know she shouldn’t be as connected to you as she is, all of a sudden. What happened?”
Tristan looked around the room as he exhaled. “Let’s just say…I didn’t practice very much…self-control last time.”
Nate nodded. “Is that why she died so early?”
“I don’t know.” Tristan swallowed. “But I think it’s why she ran away.” His chest felt hollow as he thought about the last time Scarlet died.
Nate shook his head and closed his eyes. “You are one tortured soul, man.”
“Then why don’t you help this tortured soul out and find a way to kill me.”
Nate looked at him apologetically. “Nope. If you want to die, you’re on your own.”
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to change Nate’s mind, Tristan uncrossed his arms. “Fine.”
He left the room, memories chasing after him with their guilt and sorrow.
As he descended the stairs his hands began to shake.
65
Gabriel yawned as he looked out his windshield at Scarlet’s house. He wasn’t thrilled with the stakeout plan, but Scarlet insisted she stay in her own house with Heather—even if that was stupid and could potentially get her killed.
He turned on the radio and searched through channels, all while keeping his eyes on Scarlet’s front door. There was a full moon out, shining brightly on the dark neighborhood street, and casting soft shadows against the dense forest just behind her house.
It was quiet.
And boring.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Gabriel jumped as someone pounded on his car window.
Upon seeing the knocker, he sighed and rolled his window down.
“What are you doing here?”
Tristan nodded. “We need to switch out.”
“Tonight is my night to watch. You watched last night.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t sleep. So, you might as well go back to the cabin and get some rest. I’ll stay here.”
“You can’t sleep…at all?”
Tristan said nothing.
“Dude, that’s weird. You should be able to sleep. We don’t live that far away from her.”
“I know, Gabe. I don’t know what’s going on but I do know there’s no way I’m going back to the cabin tonight. So, you can hang out here with me all evening. Or you can go home and get your beauty rest.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “My beauty rest? Real—“
“Shhh!” Tristan pointed to Scarlet’s house and panic immediately filled Gabriel.
A male figure was creeping up from the woods, making his way to the edge of Scarlet’s house.
“Is that the guy?” Gabriel asked, squinting into the night.
“Definitely.”
Gabriel quietly opened his car door and got out as Tristan stepped away. The twins hid in the nearby shadows, watching the intruder make his way back to the front door.
Gabriel whispered. “Let’s go!”
Tristan hesitated. “No.”
“No?”
“No. Let’s scare him off, and then follow him back to wherever he came from.”
“Follow him? Are you crazy?” Gabriel made a face of disbelief.
“Maybe. But we want to know what he’s after, right? So, let’s follow him.”
“And how, exactly, are we going to scare him off?”
Tristan looked around. “I have a plan.” He picked up a rock and sent it flying through the night air, where it landed on Scarlet’s porch with a thud.
Gabriel dropped his head to the side. “Throwing rocks? That’s your big plan?”
The figure paused, looking around.
Tristan threw a second rock, this time hitting the stranger’s back.
Clearly spooked, the figure shuffled off the porch and started creeping back toward the forest.
“Nope,” Tristan said, leaving the shadows. “My plan is in my trunk.”
“You have a “trunk” plan?”
Gabriel left his hiding place and headed to Tristan’s black car, watching the assailant reach the edge of the woods. “If we’re going to follow him, we need to go now. He’s getting away.”
Tristan looked at the stranger casually. “No, he’s not. That cluster of trees is pretty much a dead end. He’s either got a place somewhere nearby, or he lives in a tent. We’ll track him.”
“We’ll track him? With what? Our noses?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll follow his footprints.”
Gabriel, angry the stranger was getting away, shook his head. “Brilliant. We’ll throw rocks at him and then we’ll play Sherlock Holmes in the woods.”
“He’s not going to get away. I know you haven’t had to kill your food for a century now, but you’re a hunter, Gabriel. We both are. So, we can do this. Remember when we used to do this for survival?”
“You mean back before modern medicine and toilet paper? Yeah, I try not to remember that.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Well, then I’m a hunter. And I’m going to hunt down Scarlet’s visitor. Are you with me?”
Gabriel exhaled. “Fine.”
Tristan meant confront, not hunt…right?
He popped the trunk.
Gabriel glanced down. “Seriously, Tristan? You drive around with a trunk full of weapons?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the family bad guy.”
Gabriel rubbed the side of his face and muttered, “How are we even related?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re pissed that I happen to have a car full of artillery right when we need it. Grab a weapon.”
“What?”
“You might want a weapon, in case Scarlet’s stalker tries to stab you. He was kinda knife-happy last time I met him.”
Gabriel and riffled through the artillery. Bows…daggers…axes. “Why do you have so many weapons?”
Tristan shrugged. “You never know when you’ll need a backup.”
“What do you do in your free time that requires a backup?”
Tristan smiled tightly. “I kill stuff. Just pick a weapon and let’s go.”
“Calm down, Braveheart.” Gabriel searched through the weapons. “I’m trying to find something not quite as fatal as…a scythe? Really?” Gabriel held the wicked half-moon blade up and looked at Tristan. “What are you, the Grim Reaper?”
“Yes. Yes, Gabriel. I’m the Grim Reaper. You caught me. I drive around in my car full of weapons collecting souls.”