55

The following morning, Tristan spent two hours shooting arrows at his target and tried to clear his head.

After his rendezvous with Scarlet in the kitchen last night, Gabriel had called and filled Tristan in on the Head Ghost thing.

Not good.

Someone was after Scarlet’s memories, which meant Tristan couldn’t proceed with his suicide plan. At least not until they figured out what the intruder was looking for in Scarlet’s head and figured out how to keep her safe.

But everyday that passed without the curse being undone was a day closer to Scarlet’s death.

Tristan swore.

She was already getting worse.

Last night in the kitchen her eyes had practically glowed in the dark as she looked up at him with her plush lips and longing soul.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

Whoosh.

Bull’s-eye.

Gabriel needed to come home.

Soon.

Tristan didn’t think he could keep himself away from Scarlet much longer. Last night had been a mistake.

He shouldn’t have made pancakes.

He should have just let her plunder the kitchen and find her own snack.

He’d been careless and, because of it, her blue eyes had burned for him.

And she’d had a flashback.

Fortunately, it was a rather insignificant memory, but still.

Her memories could ruin his plan. He couldn’t take anymore chances.

Whoosh.

Bull’s-eye.

Starting today, he was going to practice better self-control.

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