In two weeks time, they were leaving for the New World. Nathaniel was hopeful about this venture, as was Gabriel, but no one knew Tristan’s thoughts on the matter, since the brute rarely spoke more than a single word at a time.
Maybe a new land was just what they all needed to get back to normal. Whatever normal was.
Gabriel crept softly down the hall and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no sign of his twin.
“We need to talk.” Tristan’s body appeared out of nowhere.
Startled, Gabriel jumped back. “Dear God, man. Why must you insist on hiding in the shadows? I’m beginning to think the vampire rumors about you are true.”
“This is no time for jokes. I need help.” Tristan sniffed and gave Gabriel a despairing look. “Are you drunk again?”
Gabriel cursed under his breath, knowing he smelled of alcohol and smoke and wishing Tristan were a little less good and a little more fun. “No?”
“Right.” Tristan moved past him and into the parlor, striking a few matches and lighting the room’s lanterns.
“Oh, so now light is appropriate.”
“Shut up and listen.”
Gabriel sighed and plopped down into the nearest chair, almost falling out of it as he miscalculated the center of the cushion and sat on the edge of the armrest instead. He quickly regained his balance and smoothed his hands down his jacket.
He was not drunk.
“Scarlet is going to come back to life again.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I refuse to cause her death. Again.” Tristan ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “But I cannot be trusted.”
Gabriel squinted as Tristan’s tall frame went out of focus for the briefest of moments.
“Which is why I need you.” Tristan pressed hard against Gabriel’s chest until he had no choice but to give him his undivided—albeit blurry—attention.
Plucking his brother’s hand away, Gabriel said, “Right. Let’s hear it, then. What is it you need?”
Tristan looked at him for a long moment, his green eyes more ablaze than usual and the hairs on Gabriel’s neck began to prick. He scratched at them in a desperate attempt to soothe his nerves. Something was off.
Tristan inhaled slowly. “I need you to keep me from Scarlet.”
Gabriel blinked. “I don’t follow.”
“Do you still love her?”
Well, now that was a loaded question.
Narrowing his eyes, Gabriel leaned back. “Is this a trap?” He tugged at his collar. “Are you planning to punch me?”
“Just answer the question.”
Gabriel twitched his lips. Confessing that you still love your brother’s girl was a dangerous move. And it almost always merited a punch in the face.
Ah, what the hell. How bad could a fist really hurt a numb face?
“Yes,” Gabriel admitted. “Yes, I love her still.”
“And she loves you,” Tristan said more to himself than to Gabriel.
Gabriel blew through his lips. “Well, that’s debatable. I mean, there was a time, maybe—“
“She loves you, Gabriel.” Tristan eyes cut into him. “I felt it when she was alive. I felt her love for you.”
Ah, yes. Tristan could feel Scarlet. A lovely side-effect of their semi-immortal connection—wait, what?
Scarlet loved Gabriel?
Gabriel’s ears and cheeks heated. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. “She does not love me as she loves you.”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever.” Regardless of what Tristan had felt in her, Scarlet loved Tristan and he loved her and blah, blah, blah.
“It doesn’t matter what Scarlet feels for me,” Tristan said. “I need you to take her away from me.”
At this, Gabriel tried to sober up. “Hold on there, brother,” He stood, pleased with himself for not wobbling. “I will not take Scarlet away from you. And she wouldn’t let me even if I tried.”
“If you don’t remove her from my reach, I will grasp onto her in every fragile life she has, bringing her immediate death.”
Gabriel scoffed. “No, you won’t.”
“But I will,” Tristan said. Warning clouded his voice and a sharp shine in his eyes had Gabriel questioning just who, exactly, was standing before him. It certainly was not the same Tristan he’d grown up with, carefree and happy. And it was not the Tristan who was so typically rational and generous.
No. This Tristan was desperate and wild, with a darkness Gabriel had never seen before.
He rubbed the side of his face. “Are you telling me you have such little control over yourself that you can’t keep your hands off of Scarlet—even to save her life?”
Doubt flashed in Tristan’s eyes as he rubbed a hand across his mouth. “It’s not just my hands that are dangerous. It’s my presence as well. I don’t trust myself.”
“It will never work, brother. Without a cure, Scarlet will die anyway. Me ‘taking her away’ from you won’t heal her heart.”
“No. But it will allow her to live longer. In her next life, I will leave so she cannot find me. I will go somewhere far away where I cannot hurt her and leave Scarlet in your care. All I need you to do is keep her from loving me.”
Gabriel crossed his arms. “And how, pray tell, shall I do that?”
“I don’t know. Convince her I’m not worthy. Convince her to fall in love with you.”
Clearly, Tristan had lost his mind.
“Convince her?” Gabriel stood with his mouth open for a long minute. “Have you not met Scarlet? She does not convince easily. She’s stubborn and temperamental and obnoxiously independent. No.” He shook his head. “I cannot do what you’re asking. It feels wrong.”
Well, there’s a sentence Gabriel never thought would come out of his mouth.
“You must,” Tristan insisted. “Do you understand what’s at stake here? Death. Scarlet’s death. Again and again until we find a cure or the damned fountain and the chances of either are slim. Do you want her to die again?”
“No.”
“Then take her away from me. Do whatever you must to change her affections.”
“Why me?” Gabriel said. “Why not have her fall in love on her own with some other poor fellow who is doomed to always be second place in her heart?”
“Because you I will not kill,” Tristan said. “Some other ‘poor fellow’ would get his bones crushed.”
The hardness in Tristan’s eyes left little doubt in Gabriel’s mind that Tristan would, indeed, kill any other poor fellow.
Gabriel shook his head. ”You cannot possibly mean what you’re saying.”
“I do.”
“Really? And what if she wants to kiss me?” Gabriel lifted his chin.