Scarlet wanted to cry for how wonderful it felt to be near him—to be something other than rejected by him.
But then her eyes burned and a soft blue glowed into the night.
Tristan pulled his hands and eyes away from her. Shutting Scarlet inside the carriage, he barked, “Take her home, Jensen,” before walking back into his house without a second glance.
Scarlet stared out the window, knowing Tristan was trying to keep her safe. Knowing he did the things he did out of fear and love.
But all the knowledge in the world couldn’t keep the pain from her soul.
CHAPTER 19
Charleston 1798
Tristan was a different man.
The day after Scarlet had hunted him down, he had moved to a different location and kept a safer distance from her, but she’d became ill anyway and slowly started to die. For eight months, her eyes flashed on and off. Then the nosebleeds started.
When he had felt her die inside of him, something snapped in his soul.
He had not been able to save her. He had searched for weapons and resolved himself to death, but it hadn’t mattered. She had still died.
After throwing knives into walls and slamming doors around his empty house, Tristan had finally surrendered to grief. And the guilt and sorrow he carried festered low in his chest, keeping him from any real sleep. It was a blackness that thickened with time, slowly inching its way around his soul, filling him with darkness.
Drowning in darkness seemed a merciful fate.
Tonight, he was walking in the seedier part of town where most men didn’t travel after dark. But most men were not immortal men and Tristan didn’t really give a damn anyway as he walked in the shadows of dangerous alleyways and buildings.
“Gabriel.” A suspicious-looking fellow with a few missing teeth gripped his shoulder. “How long has it been? Nine, ten years?”
Since there was no point in explaining to the stranger that he was, in fact, Gabriel’s twin brother—no one ever believed that anyway—Tristan said, “I’m not sure. A long time.”
The stranger nodded. “You still betting high stakes in the lower games?”
What the hell were lower games?
“You know me,” Tristan said dryly, wishing the man would release his shoulder.
“Then I have a tip for ya.” He leaned in, his breath horrid as he said, “There’s a new kind of fight under the Nine Club tonight. Password is “knuckles”. Tell ‘em Hank sent ya. I get a cut if you win.” He winked. “Nice seeing ya, ol’ pal.”
And with that, the stranger was gone.
Tristan knew he should ignore the man’s words and carry on with his mindless walking, but curiosity was a relentless bastard and Tristan’s feet took him to the Nine Club, where he told the man at the backdoor the password.
He was led downstairs into a well-lit cellar where people were crowded around a dirt ring. Peering above the heads of the townsfolk, his eyes fell on two large men beating each other bloody in the center of the crowd.
The spectators cheered and booed, held money up for a passing bookie, and drank themselves happy as they watched blood pour from the wounds of the fighters.
He had heard of prizefighting in England but, being that it was illegal, had never seen a fight before. And he found the sport…fascinating.
He watched with new eyes as the fighters hit, threw, and knocked one another around in the dirt circle. Blood, spit and sweat coated both bodies and the ground as the calls of the entertained crowd floated to the ceiling.
Fighting for sport. Slamming fists and body parts. Pounding out aggression with a willing opponent. The darkness in his chest expanded and Tristan raised the corner of his mouth. Being beaten bloody sounded heavenly.
CHAPTER 20
Charleston 1801
Gabriel sat in the dark, leaning back in a large chair with his feet propped up on the desk before him. He tapped his fingers and waited.
Tristan appeared in the hallway and headed for the front door.
“Where are you off to?” Gabriel stopped tapping his fingers.
Tristan eyed Gabriel. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” He cocked his head to the side. “Very odd behavior for a…what is it you call yourself now? A gentleman?”
Gabriel smiled. “Interesting how you always change the subject when I ask about your nightly whereabouts.”
“Why do you care, brother? Have you no whores to play with tonight?”
“Is that where you spend your time? Brothels?” Gabriel dropped his feet to the ground and leaned forward with a sharp smile. “No, of course not. Not Tristan. My righteous brother does not mar his time with the company of sinners.”
“Except for you.”
“Will you not tell me where it is you go dressed as,” Gabriel glanced Tristan over, taking in his loose, cut off pants and wider-than-fashionable shirt, “a pirate?”
“Trust me, brother.” Tristan glanced at him with mischief in his eyes. “A pirate would not bode well where I go.” Without another word, he exited the house, leaving Gabriel in the dark.
Rolling his eyes, Gabriel stood from the chair and grudgingly gathered his coat from the hallway.
Lofty Tristan, he could deal with.
Soft-hearted Tristan, he could tolerate.
But dark, mysterious Tristan?
Gabriel would have none of that.
There was room for only one irreverent soul in the Archer family, and Gabriel had staked that claim long ago.
He left out the front door, keeping to the shadows as he followed his brother.
Through darkened streets, questionable alleyways, and a part of town Gabriel used to frequent but never thought Tristan would set foot in, he followed his brother until they reached an abandoned building.
At least, it looked abandoned.
Tristan slinked his way down an almost hidden set of stairs and Gabriel hovered nearby, watching as Tristan nodded to a doorman—who looked just as questionable, if not more so, than the alleyways they’d just walked through—and entered a door that opened to the sound of a crowd, light spilling onto the doorman before the door fell shut.
What…the…hell?
Gabriel debated for several minutes, not sure if he should follow after Tristan or let his brother be. Curiosity was the victor, as always.
Slinking down the stairs as Tristan had, Gabriel approached the questionable doorman and kept his face as expressionless as possible.
The doorman looked confused. “Archer?”
Gabriel nodded. Sometimes, being a twin had its advantages.