Anew

71

“Who’s excited about winter formal?” Heather squealed, barging into Scarlet’s room with a ridiculously fluffy blue dress on. She held up a long garment bag.

“Yay,” Scarlet said, half-heartedly. She wasn’t really in the mood to dress up. Or go dancing. Or do anything, really, other than stress-out about the arrow she’d found.

And how every guy in her life was trying to tell her what to do.

“That doesn’t sound excited. That sounds depressed. This is a big deal, Scarlet! Get happy!”

Scarlet faked a smile at Heather’s good intentions. “I’m happy. I just don’t like dressing up.”

“Uh, that’s because you suck at it. But fear not! I am here to make you dazzling.” Heather shuffled over to Scarlet’s bed and started unzipping the garment bag. “Wait until you see what I picked out for you. It’s ah-mazing.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get us matching dresses,” Scarlet said, truly terrified she’d have to go to the dance dressed like an oversized blueberry.

“No. But I’ll do that next time since I can tell by your tone how very thrilled you are with the idea of looking just like me.” Heather gave a playful smile, as she pulled out a mess of gray and black material. “Ta-da!”

Scarlet looked at the elegant dress in her friend’s hands. “Heather, that looks like a prom dress.”

“It is.”

“But, this isn’t prom. This is winter formal.”

Heather’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “This is your first dance with a real, live human boy who totally digs you and is smokin’ hot! You need a killer dress.” She wiggled the hanger. “Boo-yah!”

Scarlet shook her head. “I’m going to look ridiculous in that. I’ll look like…a doll.”

“Ye-ah. A super hot fashion doll! Come on, put it on.”

Scarlet furrowed her brow.

Heather dropped her head to the side. “What else are you gonna wear, Scarlet? That pale yellow sundress in your closet that makes you look like a sad banana? I don’t think so. Get dressed.” Heather threw the dress on the bed.

Scarlet regretted her outburst at the cabin earlier. She wished she hadn’t been so adamant about attending the dance because, now, she absolutely did not want to go.

But she couldn’t change her mind now. Her creepy, blue-eyed pride was at stake.

Scarlet reluctantly picked up the elegant gown and slid into the dress. It had a black corset top—far too tight for Scarlet to breathe normally—and a long, bunched up, gray taffeta skirt.

Scarlet looked at herself in the mirror.

Aside from her inability to take a deep breath without ripping the tight corset in half, Scarlet actually looked…good.

She looked pretty. And healthy.

Which was incredibly misleading.

Heather clapped her hands and squealed again. Like a winter formal cheerleader wearing a blue pom-pom. “I love it! Okay, let’s do your hair.”

Scarlet looked at her long dark hair in the mirror. “It looks fine the way it is.”

“Uh…yeah. If you’re going mini-golfing. What your locks need tonight is some curl and sass.”

“My locks need nothing.”

Heather pouted her lips. “Please don’t suck the fun out of this dance for me. Let me play with your hair…please?”

Despite her sour mood, Scarlet smiled. “Fine.”

This is what normal, non-dying, teenage girls do. They get ready for dances and pretend the biggest problem in their life is finding nail polish that doesn’t chip.

Scarlet followed Heather into the bathroom and endured thirty minutes of tugging and curling before Heather was finished. The end result was a giant heap of big brown curls.

And not in an attractive way.

Scarlet looked at her poofy hair in the mirror. “I look like a lion. Like a savage, brunette lion.”

Heather examined her unruly hair with a cluck of her tongue. “You’re right. You need a clip or a few pins or something. Follow me.”

Scarlet followed Heather back into her room where she immediately headed to her bedroom mirror. “Agh. I look ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” Heather rifled through the jewelry box on Scarlet’s dresser. “Aha!” She held up something round and shiny.

It was the ring Nate had given Scarlet.

“This is beautiful! We’ll just pin some of your crazy curls back with this, and then you’ll look magnificent.”

“No,” Scarlet said, panicked for no real reason.

“No?” Heather raised her eyebrows. “Scarlet, look at yourself. You’re a hot mess. We need to tame your hair.”

“Right. But not with that.” She pointed to the ring. “It’s not a hair clip.”

Heather looked at it. “Maybe not, but it’s a really pretty ring...or broach…or whatever, and I can just secure it with a thousand bobby pins or something.”

Scarlet scrunched her face. “I don’t think it’s jewelry.”

Heather narrowed her eyes. “Then what is it?”

She shrugged. She had no idea, but she was sure it wasn’t a fashion accessory.

Heather sighed. “Well, whatever it is, it’s beautiful. And so are you. So, I’m going to put you two together. I’ll be right back.”

Heather ran to the bathroom and returned with an arsenal of bobby pins. She twisted a few pieces of hair from Scarlet’s face and pinned them back behind her head with the trinket—Scarlet complaining about the ring the entire time.

For all Scarlet knew, the mysterious object was a magical ring of death that summoned demons from Middle Earth or something. She would probably trigger some ancient spell by wearing it and accidentally start a war in another dimension.

The last thing Scarlet needed in her life was more voodoo drama.

She started to pry the shiny ring out of her hair when Heather smacked her hand.

Hard.

“Heather!” Scarlet furrowed her brow.

“You will not undo all my hard work, Scarlet Marie! Now,” Heather batted her lashes, “help me look in your jewelry box for some earrings to match my dress.”

Heather walked over to Scarlet’s jewelry collection and sifted through her many earrings as Scarlet turned back around and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes were very blue. More blue than they’d been yesterday. Or the day before.

She was getting worse, but at least her eyes had stopped glowing. She didn’t need Heather’s keen intuition bombarding Scarlet with questions about her choice in eye drops.

Her heart kicked, reminding her that something was wrong.

Something aside from her dying heart and neon eyes.

Something was wrong with the arrow she’d found.

Something was wrong with….

Tristan.

Scarlet blinked at her reflection.

It made no sense, but she knew, inexplicably, without a doubt, something was wrong with Tristan.

She just didn’t know what.

Scarlet tried to put her colliding thoughts together.

Why would something be wrong with Tristan?

And then she remembered Nate’s words about the fountain of youth.

Short of Tristan dying, it’s the only way to kill the blood inside you.

If Tristan’s blood died, she would…live.

And, just like that, she knew why the arrow was dangerous.

It could kill immortals.

Immortals like Tristan.

The arrow can kill Tristan, and he was eager to take it from me today.

Scarlet sucked in a sharp breath, looking away from the mirror.

Tristan was going to kill himself with the arrow she’d found.

An arrow she’d practically handed over to him today.

Somehow she knew that’s what he was going to do.

Her heart started to pound.

Why would he do such a thing?

The answer didn’t matter. What mattered was making sure Tristan didn’t do anything stupid. No one was going to lay down their life for her.

Especially not Tristan.

“Okay, blue dangly earrings, or blue fuzzy ones?” Heather turned from the jewelry box and held up two earrings to her ears before rolling her eyes. “Wait, why am I asking you? You’d probably suggest I wear snowman earrings or something—“

“Tristan,” Scarlet said absently, feeling her eyes begin to burn. Without looking at Heather, she hurried out of the room.

“What are you—Scarlet, I am not going to wear Tristan on my ears! That’s just weird. And probably impossible.” Her voice faded as Scarlet descended the stairs. “Although, I would definitely wear him in other ways…. Scarlet! Where are you going?”

Scarlet didn’t answer. She headed for the front door, grabbing her keys and dress shoes before leaving.

She didn’t have time for earrings.

Tristan was going to die.