21
" Okay." Nate took a deep breath. "Now that we're all caught up on the new no-no's of the house, what do you say we find a tarp and some duct tape and MacGyver ourselves a new window in the living room? Just, you know, to keep out the wind ... and the leaves ... and any sharp-toothed woodland creatures prone to attacking people in their sleep."
Tristan raised a brow.
"What?" Nate shrugged. "Death by dragon? Awesome. Death by rabid forest squirrel? Not cool, man. Not cool."
"You're immortal, Nate," Gabriel said.
"So? That doesn't mean I want rabies." Nate shook his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have medieval aliens to defeat. "
― Chelsea Fine , Awry (The Archers of Avalon, #2)
30
" The intruder shifted his weight and pulled the knife back, aiming at Gabriel’s chest. The moonlight glinted off the sharp blade and Gabriel found himself backed up against a wall.
There was no escape. Gabriel was going to have to bear the pain of a knife through his chest. He could do it. He would wait until the knife entered his flesh and then he’d snap the Ashman’s neck in half.
Yeah. That was a good plan.
Just as the knife came toward Gabriel, the Ashman grunted and pulled back, taking a few wobbly steps before falling to the floor.
Nate stood to the side, his hands on a large sword jutting from the Ashman’s back. He yanked out the sword, leaving the stranger’s body limp.
Nate stepped toward the Ashman’s body, looking him over timidly.
Without warning, the intruder rolled over and pulled himself up off the floor. Nate jumped back, lifted the sword in defense, and made a loud noise that sounded something like, “Arrrhh!”
Still clutching the bloody knife, the Ashman looked back and forth between Nate and Gabriel. Seeing he was outnumbered, he turned and ran back through the destruction of the living room.Jumping out of the gaping hole from the missing living room window, the Ashman disappeared into the storm
A moment passed as Gabriel and Nate stared after their attacker, both of them out of breath.
Still badly bleeding, Gabriel turned to Nate and looked at the weapon he held. The sword was oversized, extra shiny and had a very ornate handle. “I don’t remember ever seeing that sword in our arsenal before.”
Hunched over and trying to catch his breath, Nate said, “That’s because it’s from my arsenal.”
“So, you just had that,” Gabriel nodded at the weapon, “laying around?”
Nate righted himself and shrugged. “I’m a Zelda fan.”
“Ah.” Gabriel nodded. “And the noise you just made?”
“That was my battle cry.”
“Really?” Gabriel winced as he took a step forward. “It sounded more like the cry of a wounded animal. A cat, maybe. Or a small monkey.”
“Shut up.” Nate looked at Gabriel’s bleeding torso. “Are you okay? "
― Chelsea Fine , Awry (The Archers of Avalon, #2)
31
" Heather was convinced Scarlet needed to see Nate.
Scarlet was not.
After leaving a tall, thick trail of dust, Heather parked her car at a haphazard angle in front of the cabin. Bursting through the front door with Scarlet beside her, Heather dramatically announced, “Scarlet is broken!”
Scarlet shook her head. “I’m not broken.”
“What?” Gabriel met them in entryway, looking at Scarlet in concern.“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Scarlet slowly walked into the living room, her body aching with every movement as she laid down on one of the large couches.
“You are notfine, Scarlet. You are broken.” Heather turned to Gabriel with big eyes. “She was wheezing and coughing and moaning during sixth period. Moaning! Do you know how hard it is to explain to your economics teacher why your best friend is moaning during his supply-and-demand lecture?” She shrugged. “Someone needs to fix her.” Heather looked around. “Where’s the nerdy, little immortal?”
Nate entered the living room from the back hallway and shot Heather a dirty look. “I’m not little. I’m average-sized. And five hundred years ago I was actually considered a large man. But then humans started eating well and evolving and, suddenly, I’m no longer the tallest guy in the room—”
“I don’t care about the evolution of Nate!” Heather snapped. “I care about Scarlet "
― Chelsea Fine , Awry (The Archers of Avalon, #2)
32
" With a loud screeching noise, Aaron dragged his lab stool over to Scarlet’s table and sat down beside her. He leaned into her, his shoulder brushing hers.
“I had a great Christmas. Want to know why?” he asked.
Not really.
He answered himself. “Because I got a new car.”
Scarlet managed not to roll her eyes as she turned from her chemistry book and gave Aaron a forced smile. “From Santa?”
“What kind of car?” Kristy scooted her stool closer to Scarlet and leaned in as well. “A sexy one?”
Kristy was on the left side of Scarlet, clogging her nose with the scent of flowery perfume. And Aaron was on Scarlet’s right, brushing her shoulder with his over-sized bicep.
She was in a Kristy and Aaron sandwich.
Kill me now.
Aaron flashed Kristy a smile that was probably supposed to look charming. It came across as smug. “A Challenger.” His breath drifted across Scarlet’s cheek, smelling like chocolate.
In an attempt to be closer to Aaron, Kristy scooted even closer to Scarlet. “Ooh, that is sexy.” Kristy gave Aaron a flirty smile and leaned even further, her chest pressing up against Scarlet’s arm.
The sandwich was becoming a Panini.
A flower-and-chocolate Panini "
― Chelsea Fine , Awry (The Archers of Avalon, #2)
33
" Making brief eye contact with Tristan, Gabriel casually marched around the gazebo and yanked the Ashman back further into the shadowy cover of the dark trees. The Ashman struggled, but Tristan came up beside Gabriel and caught the Ashman’s hands behind his back.
Another Ashman appeared in the darkness beyond Tristan.
“Watch your back,” Gabriel said, and Tristan whipped around.
In one fluid movement, Tristan pulled a dagger from his coat—because, apparently, Tristan carted bloody weapons around in his coat—and cut through the Ashman’s skull with forceful movement.
Without missing a beat, Tristan turned back around and helped Gabriel pin the Ashman that was struggling beneath Gabriel’s grasp.Gabriel punched the Ashman in the face, giving Tristan an opportunity to restrain the Ashman’s hands behind his back.
Gabriel pulled Scarlet’s butcher knife from his coat—okay, so maybe they both carted weapons around in their jackets—and with silent movement, he thrust the blade directly into the Ashman’s heart and twisted.
Stiffness, cracking, crumbling…then ash.
Murder accomplished.
Gabriel tucked the blade back into his coat and dusted off his hands as he looked at the two piles of ash on the forest floor. “See how simple that was?” He looked at Tristan. “You hold him down, I stab him, end of threat. With Nate it’s all weird battle cries and plastic hammers.” Gabriel shook his head. “Fighting with you is much less dramatic.”
“Yeah, well.” Tristan stretched his neck. “We make a good killing team.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes as they headed out of the trees and back to the fair. “What is with everyone wanting to be on teams? "
― Chelsea Fine , Awry (The Archers of Avalon, #2)
