Black Bird

Chapter 1

Chapter 1Seven years later

Arlo looked around the red farmhouse cottage. It wasn’t big, but crossing the small rooms was enough to make him want to cry—he wouldn’t, of course. No use in crying over things that hadn’t happened yet, but it saddened him to know he’d have to leave it soon.

The floorboards creaked under his feet as he walked through the kitchen and into the living room. The low ceiling had him dipping his head when going through doorways, being five-foot-six it wasn’t something he was used to. He probably could walk through without hitting his head on the door frame, but someone taller wouldn’t be able to. The owner had made an apologetic comment about it when Arlo came to look at the house, but it didn’t bother him.

Since he’d left Mama in the hospital, he’d lived in a lot of seedy places, and he’d met a lot of people forcing him to move on from those seedy places.

This house reminded him of where they’d lived when he’d been a little boy—it was happiness and freedom on a small piece of land with a tiny house. The town was a ten-minute drive away and while not as picturesque as the red wooden cottage, it still had some small-town charm going on. He’d learned not to get too attached, though.

Mama. He wished he could call her, wished he could go back home, but he couldn’t. Why he couldn’t, he didn’t know, but something inside of him made it impossible. It was the same thing forcing him to move on as soon as he’d taken someone’s darkness into himself.

He hated it.

He couldn’t control it.

There had been times he’d believed he’d conquered it, times someone he’d gotten to know got sick, and he’d managed to leave them without sucking it into himself. But the next time he’d see them, the onslaught of the blackness would be far more forceful.

Running his fingers over the scarred doorpost, he sighed and pushed all wayward emotions back into his chest. He had to get himself under control if he was to go into town, and he had to go into town.

Tilting his head toward the sun, he shook out his hair. The white tresses cascaded down his shoulders—another sign he wasn’t normal. He should cut it, wear it short so it didn’t stand out as much, but he couldn’t. Some days brushing his hair was the only way to calm himself.

It wasn’t healthy, getting a haircut now and then was part of people’s everyday lives, but not his. The thought of cutting his hair had him breaking out in cold sweat. It wasn’t normal, but he had to have something—something that was his, something he could control, something to soothe himself with.

With yet another sigh, he went to grab his jacket. There was no use in unpacking anything until he knew if he would survive the first day at work. Not that he had much, constantly moving from one place to another didn’t leave room for trinkets. He’d placed his plants in the windows, it was all he’d managed so far.

Exhaustion curled around his limbs. It was too soon to go out among people, he was still coughing up black lumps, but he didn’t have a choice.

Freaks of nature had to pay their bills like everybody else.

* * * *

Nash Silver rolled his shoulders while glaring at the woman who was watching him exit his apartment building. Everywhere he went people stared. He should be used to it, but some days it got on his nerves—this was one of those days.

He cracked his neck, spat on the sidewalk, and brushed past the woman who still stared. People had no f*****g manners these days.

Annoyance prickled at his mind. His skin must’ve shrunk in the shower; it had been too tight all day.

Thank f**k for the weekend, and talking about f**k—he needed to get laid. This restlessness couldn’t go on. He had to do something about it, or he’d eat someone before the week was over, and he would rather not. Keeping a low profile was key.

He walked up Tradesman Street toward the Big Square which was tiny, but since the town had an even smaller one, it was commonly known as the Big Square. The smaller—the Bottle Cap Square—used to be where all the lowlifes hung out, but in the last few years, the municipal administration had worked hard to clean up the inner city.

Nash snorted. Could towns have an inner city? Didn’t it need to be a city to have an inner city?

People were milling about, and he scowled at the family coming out from the travel agency. Smiles were not appropriate on a day like this, it didn’t matter that it was Friday—though, it did make life a little easier.

His phone beeped, and he didn’t need to be psychic to know it was Ellis texting him, wondering where he was. He made it up the slope and glanced down New Street.

Ellis was standing outside the bank, he wouldn’t be able to see Nash yet—one of the pros of being different was having the upper hand when it came to senses. Well, maybe not compared to Gilbert, but he wouldn’t want to trade.

The poor devil was likely going mad right this moment. Nash glanced at the sun, yup probably pacing his cellar. He should be nice and bring him one of those chai lattes he liked.

He glanced in Ellis’ direction again. f**k Gilbert, he could have ordinary tea.

Nash took a couple of steps down New Street when something caught his attention, or not his attention, but something in his brain protested at walking away from the square. He stopped and looked around, torn between jogging down to Ellis and asking if he knew if someone had been coming into town or going into the mall and having a look for himself.

Filling his lungs, he tried to name what it was. Shifter? No, it didn’t have the scent of nature. Magic user? No, all magic users had a faint scent of fire. Vampire? He glanced at the sun again. No, not a vamp. It didn’t smell cold. It was…human? Yes, it was human, but it was…A man passing him gave him a wide-eyed stare as he scented the air. It was special.

He tried shaking the feeling of something otherworldly. There was nothing there—Ellis, Gilbert, and he were the only non-humans here, except the crazy woman up on Hawk Yard. Though being a witch was being human. Besides, calling Ellis non-human was wrong, too. Psychics were humans, were they not? And the smell, maybe it was someone using a strange perfume that floated above all the rest or something.

His phone beeped again, and this time he reached for it and looked at the screen—Ellis. Nash glanced at the entrance to the mall. Gilbert could use a chai latte on a day like this. Clear skies always made him grumpy.

The chilly wind ruffled his hair as he aimed for the coffee shop, and he could almost taste the salt it brought with it from the sea. Winter was slowly beginning to crawl in over the shore.

* * * *

Arlo tried to ignore Holly as she went on and on and on about everything and nothing. He smiled and nodded, he didn’t want to be rude, but man, the girl could talk. It wasn’t so much her talking that got on his nerves, but she dropped names left and right as if he was supposed to know them, and mentioned places he’d never heard of.

“A large chai latte to go, please.”

Arlo looked up at the man on the other side of the counter, then he looked up some more. He had to be at least six-three, maybe more, and with broader shoulders than could be considered normal. A sizzle skidded over Arlo’s skin, immobilizing him. When he breathed out, a whimper wanted to follow.

There was something wild about the man, something larger than the body could contain. Arlo glanced at the door, wondering about the measurements of it and how he could’ve walked in here without Arlo noticing.

For once Holly went quiet as a mouse.

“Coming right up.” Arlo smiled, winked, and gave himself a mental slap. Winked? He’d winked at the giant. When had he gotten that stupid? Perhaps this would be the one town he’d have to leave because he pissed off the wrong people instead of having sucked someone’s darkness into him—it would be a first.

His hands shook as he prepared the drink, his heart pounding, and heat coursed through his body.

Why on earth had he winked, he wasn’t one to wink at people. He never winked at people. Avoidance was of the utmost importance. The longer he could live in a place without forming any ties to anyone, the longer it took before he filled up on tar.

“Here you go.” He put the paper cup on the counter without looking at the man and gestured for him to put his credit card in the card reader and punch in his code before wiping his sweaty palm on the apron.

“You’re new here?” The deep voice made Arlo tingle, and that was bad. He shouldn’t tingle. A giant, who didn’t look to be of the gentle kind and probably was ten years his senior, shouldn’t have his heart speeding just by asking a question.

He’d have to get another job, preferably in another town. He thought of his cute little red house and sighed.

“Only trying it out.” He glanced at the man whose dark eyes studied him with far too much interest and Arlo bit his lip. The man’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Yeah?” There was a smile in his voice, but Arlo didn’t check to see if there was one on his face as well. Instead, he looked at the screen to make sure the buy went through and when it did, he moved back toward Holly.

“Yep, I think I’ll keep looking.”

The silence stretched, but Arlo resisted the urge to see if the man was still there.

“Then I think I will too.” The husky tone made Arlo’s gaze snap up.

The man had already turned around and was leaving the coffee shop in determined strides. Arlo’s heart thudded in his throat, and he had to stop himself from calling out. Was he leaving already? Yes, he was leaving, and it was good because Arlo didn’t flirt with customers. Arlo didn’t flirt with anyone.

He glanced at Holly who was clinging to the corner of the counter while watching the man with longing. “He’s one fine man, that one.”

Arlo hurried to wipe down the surface and not to look as the man slowed down when nearing the exit.

“And there he goes.” Holly sighed dramatically. “It’s the first time I’ve heard him talk except to order chai latte. Oh, and you should always offer the receipt to the customers.” She gestured at the receipt still sitting in the small printer.

“He comes here often, to buy chai lattes?” If he did, Arlo couldn’t come back tomorrow. Beach balls! He liked working in coffee shops, it was one of his favorite places. He rubbed his chest and looked at the empty exit. Where had the hollowness come from?

“Nash?”

“His name is Nash?” It didn’t matter, his name was of no importance or interest.

“Yes, Nash.” She sighed again. “What I wouldn’t do to get to see what he looks like in the morning.”

Arlo frowned. “Why don’t you ask him out?”

Holly turned and gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Are you insane? I can’t ask a guy like that, he’s like…like…argh.” She threw her hands in the air.

“O-Okay.” Arlo picked up a tray and went to collect a couple of cups customers had left on the tables. Holly touched his arms as he went past her and he fortified the shields in his mind the best he could. The press of her hand was all wrong on his skin, and he froze as the cold pinpricks climbed his limb.

“You don’t get it. Every Friday they’re at Herman’s, they don’t talk to anyone, only among themselves, but when they get up to leave, three people join them by the door, and they’re gone.”

“So, they’re in relationships?” Whoever they were.

“No, it’s different people every time.”

Arlo studied her face. “And you want to be one of the three?” Was she insane?

“Will you come with me tonight?”

“What? No.” He took a step back.

“Please.” Her pleading eyes almost made him say yes, but he needed to stay away from Nash, not seek out places where he might be.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have to sort out a few things in the house. Just moved in, you know.”

She touched her hair and tilted her head to the side. “Next Friday?”

“I…erm…we’ll see.” If he was still here next Friday.