Avow

CHAPTER 32

The next day, Scarlet let out a frustrated moan, her thoughts stuck in a tailspin over her kiss last night with Tristan.

What a disaster.

A hot, wet, sexy disaster—but a disaster no less.

He was never going to touch her again. She knew it. Why did her eyes have to burn? Why couldn’t they have just been normal eyes for one freaking night so she could kiss Tristan freely?

And the horrified look on his face? The face that made her feel like she’d just stabbed his heart with a fork and flung it into the garbage can or something—it was enough to make her scream.

So unfair.

Scarlet entered Kirk’s office and sat down with a heavy sigh.

“Good afternoon, Scarlet.” Kirk smiled. “Rough day?”

Rough century. “Something like that.”

“Well I might have some news that will cheer you up.”

I doubt it.

He continued, “My contact in Avalon sent me a journal that belonged to a William Jacobs. But the name William Jacobs was very common back then, so there is a chance this is not the William you were looking for.”

Scarlet’s thoughts immediately left Tristan and focused on the professor as he held out an old, leather-bound book.

“Yes, it is,” Scarlet whispered as she took the journal from the professor’s hands. Scarlet could barely breathe. On the front cover was a beautiful drawing of a dark-haired woman wearing a circular brooch. Scarlet’s mother. Her father had drawn a picture of her mother on his journal and somehow that journal had ended up in Scarlet’s hands.

Hands that were now shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Scarlet looked up at him. “Can I borrow this for a few days so I can read through it?”

“I’m afraid I told Mr. Brooks I’d keep it here at the University.”

“Mr. Brooks?”

“Yes. George Brooks is my contact in Avalon. His family founded the town centuries ago and he keeps a private collection of historic journals and ancient maps and some kind of blue weapons he’s very proud of. He seems fascinated with all things Avalon, so if this journal doesn’t help you find what you’re looking for he may have something else for you. But the journal will have to stay on campus. There’s a reading area downstairs, if you’d like to start now.”

Scarlet blinked.

This was her father’s journal? And she couldn’t take it home with her because some random Mr. Brooks guys said so?

Ha.

“I think I’ll do just that,” Scarlet said, taking the journal with her as she left the office. She had no intention of keeping the journal at the school and the thief inside her wouldn’t let her do so anyway.

Scarlet left the university building and headed home with the journal.

As soon as she got to her room, Scarlet shut herself inside and sat on her bed. Opening the journal, she found most of the pages damaged with water, but those that were still legible she read with hungry eyes.

Turning a page, Scarlet sucked in a breath at what she saw. It was an exact drawing of the tree picture Scarlet found in the brooch and on the adjoining page was an entry that told Scarlet what the drawing was.

A map to the Fountain of Youth.

She wanted to squeal. She could cure her heart and release Gabriel from his curse and relieve Tristan from pain.

She eagerly read the passage.

Natives say… The only way to the fountain is through a labyrinth of Bluestone caves deadly to immortals. Poisonous vines guard the caves and can only be cut with immortal blood, for immortal blood kills that which is made of magic. The caves lead to a chamber where a single tree grows.

This is the Avalon.

From the Avalon comes the Fountain of Youth, but the water that gives birth to immortality demands death in return. Touching the Avalon is fatal, but from the sacrifice comes eternal water and the Avalon fruit, which heals all who are addicted.

Scarlet’s face fell. Deadly to immortals? This was what they’d all been looking for. But would she risk the lives of her loved ones to break the curse?

She read on in the journal, absently turning pages until her eyes lit on a detailed picture of an arrow and she paused.

The drawing was described as an arrow made of Bluestone and that Bluestone weapons had the ability to kill immortals.

Scarlet eyes snapped back to the picture. She’d seen that very arrow before—in the assorted collection on Tristan’s desk. She needed to warn him immediately—just in case he fell on top of the Bluestone arrow he had and accidentally sliced his heart in half.

Closing the journal, Scarlet picked up the phone receiver by her bed, but froze when she heard Tristan’s voice already on the other line.

“…can’t do this anymore.”

“Yes, yes.” Nate sounded exasperated. “We’re working on it, Tristan. I’m making progress with your blood and I’m still looking into possible fountain locations.“

If Scarlet had any manners, she would hang up her phone and let them carry on their conversation in private. But Scarlet was fresh out of manners.

“I’m not talking about the fountain.” Tristan was using his serious voice. “I’m talking about finding a way for me to die.”

Scarlet sucked in a breath and waited for her heart to start beating again.

“Are you crazy?” Nate said.

“Yes. I’m insane and I’m crazy and I’m in love with someone who dies when I touch them. Help me die.”

Scarlet tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

Nate lowered his voice. “I don’t know what happened last night, but death won’t fix it.”

“Yes, it will. You even said yourself that if my blood were to die while Scarlet was alive, then the immortal blood in her heart would die too. She would be healthy again.”

There was a long pause and Scarlet could just imagine the baffled look on Nate’s face. “But you would be dead.”

“Yes. And Scarlet would have a real life, Nate. A real chance at living.”

Scarlet’s heart puckered in disbelief.

What was he saying?

“Let’s put aside, for a moment, the fact that you’re crazy and stupid. You’re still immortal, Tristan. You can’t die.”

“Your books said there was a weapon that could kill any immortal being. It’s possible, Nate.”

Scarlet put a hand over her mouth. There was actually hope in Tristan’s voice. Genuine, beautiful, little boy hope and it was tearing her down the middle.

“If I can find a weapon that will cut my heart in half,” Tristan continued. “then Scarlet will be free, correct?”

Like a shock of cold water, reality slapped Scarlet in the face as she realized Tristan wasn’t crazy. There were weapons that could kill immortals—and one of them was an arrow already in Tristan’s possession!

Oh God. Oh God.

Nate sighed and his voice was strained. “Freedom without love is not freedom at all. If you die, Scarlet will hate you forever.”

Tristan hesitated. “If I live, Scarlet will suffer forever.”

A long minute passed and Scarlet considered screaming at Tristan through the phone. There was absolutely no way she was going to tell any of them about the immortal-killing weapons now that Tristan wanted to die.

Her hands went numb and her heart pounded.

Tristan said, “What would you do if it was Molly?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Exactly. It’s not fair.”

Another long pause.

“I’m not going to help you kill yourself, Tristan.” He sounded stern and Scarlet suddenly loved Nate more than she ever had before.

Tristan made a huffing sound. “Maybe not right now, but there will come a time when all the death and brokenness has to end. Scarlet might not be selfish enough to admit it, but she needs it to end.”

Feeling her throat start to close up, Scarlet silently hung up the phone before she gasped or choked and gave herself away.

Sweat began to form along her brow.

She stared at the journal on her bed for a moment.

Nate and Gabriel had worked for centuries trying to keep Scarlet healthy, trying to preserve her life. They had protected her in every way they could and she loved them deeply for it. They were her best friends and they would risk their lives in a heartbeat for her.

And Tristan was her very soul and there was no way in hell she was going to lead him to death—a death he would probably welcome, damn him. And there was an entire collection of immortal-killing weapons in Georgia right now that Tristan might stumble upon in his suicide mission.

Scarlet stood in her room for several minutes, trying to think through every possible scenario that would keep everyone safe. Taking several deep breaths, she came to a decision.

She would go to the fountain by herself. If she died, Tristan’s blood would bring her back to life and she could try again in her next life. But if Tristan, Gabriel, or Nate died, they would never return.

She would find Mr. Brooks and buy up his collection and keep it from Tristan. And she would find the fountain and try to cure herself with the blue water without endangering anyone else.

It was a stupid plan. It was reckless and crazy.

And it was absolutely what Scarlet was going to do.

It took all of Scarlet’s will power not to sprint to Tristan’s house the second she’d hung up the phone. But that would have been rash. Instead, she spent a few hours thinking through her plan, coming to only one conclusion: there was a good chance she was going to die.

Not a happy thought, but meh.

She was used to dying.

Arriving at Tristan’s, Scarlet parked her car in the shadows and sat for a moment, going over her options. She needed to get that arrow away from him and his suicidal stupidity.

She could ring his doorbell, wake him up, and approach him maturely.

Hey, Tristan. You know how you’re looking for a special weapon to kill yourself? Guess what? You already have it! So, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to take it off your hands.

Yeah, no.

She could try threatening him.

Give me the arrow or I will climb onto your body and stay there until I die.

Tempting, but not very mature.

Or…

She could sneak into his house and steal it.

Journals. Weapons. She was on a stealing streak today.

She crept quietly through the shadows, hoping Tristan was fast asleep and not able to sense her presence as she tried the front door. Locked.

Bummer. That would have made things easy.

She went around the side of the house to the weapons room and was pleased to find the window unlocked. Opening it, she slid inside, feeling confident she would be able to pull this plan off after all.

Squinting, she tried to make out weapons in the dark. Had she been smarter, she would have thought to dress in all black and bring a freaking flashlight with her, but no.

At least Tristan was a deep sleeper.

She studied the arrows on the desk until she found the one with the blue tip and picked it up, letting out a silent exhale as she tucked it into her back pocket.

Looking around, another idea struck. She was going to need weapons—lots of them—and immortal blood if she hoped to cut through deadly vines.

She hurriedly started plucking knives off the walls and tossing them out the window. She grabbed a few bows, a few dozen arrows, and threw those out the window too, just in case.

Jumping back outside, she loaded up her arms and carried Tristan’s weapons back to her car. It took her three trips to get them all loaded and, just when she was about to close her trunk, Scarlet started to feel nervous.

Why was she nervous?

Then curious.

What the…?

She heard a sound behind her and spun around to see a very upset Tristan glaring at her.

Oh crap.

“Scarlet,” he said, not surprised to see her. The whole connection thing was inconvenient on all sorts of levels.

“Hi.” She waved at him awkwardly as she leaned a hip against her trunk like it was perfectly normal for her to be packing up weapons in the middle of the night and acting super creepy in his front yard.

She felt relieved.

Wait, what? Why did she feel relieved?

“Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes fell to her trunk. “Are those my weapons?”

Confusion.

“Yeah. I know it seems weird,” she said. “And I’d really love to explain myself, but honestly, you came up out of nowhere and I haven’t had time to put together a good lie.”

“You snuck into my house,” he said.

“Yes.”

“And stole a bunch of my weapons,” he looked at her trunk again.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Confusion.

Fear. Desire. Fear. Love.

What was going on?

Scarlet made a face. “Because I need…them?”

“So do I.”

She made a face. “You don’t need them.”

Fear. Love.

Why were her emotions all out of whack—

Scarlet gasped and covered her mouth.

“What? What is it?” Tristan looked around in alarm.

She dropped her hand, her mouth falling open. “I can feel you.”

He stared at her, his eyes growing huge. “You can feel me?”

She nodded.

Oh no. This was bad.

Well, it was awesome because it meant that Scarlet now had an inside track on all things Tristan. But it was still bad.

“No.” He started shaking his head, stress jumping out of his core. “No, no, no. That means the connection is stronger. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s amazing.” Scarlet set a hand to Tristan’s chest, wanting to feel more of him. “Our connection must be both ways now. Wow.” Warm, wonderful bliss slid into her hand and up her arm as she touched him.

He pulled her hand off him. “This is bad.” He cursed, rubbing his head. “We shouldn’t have touched.”

Scarlet tapped into Tristan’s feelings and was overwhelmed by love and passion and loyalty. He loved her—deeply. Everything pulsing out of him was laced in love and protection.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked.

“Because you love me. And I love you. And it’s the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.”

He slowly nodded. “We have a very powerful love, indeed.”

They stood in his front yard, under the stars, staring at one another like they had when they were Scar and Hunter in the woods. Carefree. Hopeful.

He exhaled as a sliver of fear ran through him. “Which is why I’m concerned about you sneaking into my house and stealing my things—“

“Borrowing. Oh!” She thought of something else. “And I need money. Can I borrow some money?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you need weapons?”

“Is that a yes on the money thing?”

He crossed his arms. “Tell me what’s going on and you can have whatever you want.”

“I can’t.”

He scowled.

“Listen,” she said. “I have to do something. And I know you’ll be tempted to track me down or whatever, but you can’t. I have to do this alone.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” She pleaded. “I have to go kind of far away, but I don’t want you to be in pain. Follow me if you have to, but don’t find me. Okay?”

“Not okay.”

“You are such a pain.” She growled. “Just let me do this without asking questions. Please?”

“Are you insane? You have a trunk filled with weapons, you’re asking for money, and our connection is now both ways, which makes you more vulnerable than ever before. And you don’t want me to ask questions?” His jaw tightened.

Fear, anxiety, faith, fear, love, confusion, love…

“I know you’re worried. I can feel that you’re worried. But give me one week. That’s all I’m asking.” With pleading eyes, Scarlet looked at the boy whose heartbeat was now echoing in her chest. “Trust me, Hunter.”

Racing back to Nate’s house, Scarlet ran inside with the Bluestone arrow, desperate to hide it somewhere apart from her in case Tristan ended up coming after her and riffling through his weapons on his I-must-die mission.

Upstairs in her room, she dropped to her knees in front of the wardrobe and pulled out the bottom drawer. Remembering her dolls from when she was young she searched for…aha! A false bottom—just like her father’s wardrobe. Once upon a time, Scarlet had stored doll shoes and ribbons in a secret compartment such as this. And now she was hiding the most dangerous thing she’d ever held.

She placed the arrow into the secret compartment, replaced the false bottom, and pushed the drawer closed. Satisfied that the arrow—and therefore Tristan—was safe, she hurriedly started packing, running around her room like a crazy person.

Throwing her duffle bag over her shoulder, Scarlet retrieved her mother’s brooch and walked downstairs, quietly slipping into Nate’s lab.

She searched through the blood samples he had stored and grabbed everything labeled TRISTAN. She was crawling with nervousness. She would be traveling by herself for the first time, hiking around in a bug-infested forest while searching for a mythical fountain, and battling magical vines with immortal blood-stained weapons.

It was a lot to think about and she was scared. But she was also determined.

Finishing in the lab, she went down the hall and knocked on Nate’s bedroom door. She heard the Atari game playing within and smiled to herself at his newfound hobby.

He opened the door. “Hey, Scarlet. What’s up?”

She took a deep breath. “I have to go somewhere for a little while. And I can’t explain. But I need a favor.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Scarlet held out the brooch. Since she had the journal, she already had a copy of the map and no longer needed the original, but she didn’t feel comfortable traveling with both copies at the same time. “Will you keep this for me, please? It’s very special and I need you to take care of it.”

He looked alarmed. “Are you planning on dying? Are you—“

“No. No, of course not.” She was just full of lies. “I just don’t want to take any chances. Oh,” a thought struck her, “and, you know, if anything should happen to me—which it won’t, by the way—could you keep my bedroom wardrobe, too? I really like it and I’d hate to lose it.”

Nate took the ring from her hand without breaking eye contact. “You’re scaring me, Scarlet. Tell me what’s going on.”

She smiled sadly. “I’ll tell you someday, I promise.” She kissed his cheek, her chest tightening as she did so. “Trust me.”

Turning in the hallway, Scarlet left the house with shaking hands and a hammering heart. There was no turning back.

Jumping into her car, Scarlet headed to Avalon. Ready for life. Ready for death. Ready for anything.