Black Bird

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Nash poured yet another beer down his gullet. The sounds in the bar were so f*****g loud tonight—people everywhere, the same boring people.

A young blond was trying to get his attention by the bar. Nash recognized him, but it had to be a couple of months ago. He didn’t do repeats, and the sooner the guy got the message the better.

The bottom floor where they were sitting had the decor of an old-fashioned pub, tables and chairs in dark wood, and by the windows were booths made up of black leather sofas with tables screwed to the wall. The upper floor was more like a nightclub with a dance floor and its own bar. Luckily, the DJ hadn’t begun yet.

“What’s up with you today?” Gilbert frowned at him.

“Nothing. Tired is all.”

“Tired?” Gilbert looked at Ellis as if he would object to Nash being tired, but Ellis grinned. Most of his face hidden behind the shades he always wore when they were out among people. Nash didn’t like it when he wore them.

It was easy to see if and when Ellis picked up on something when he didn’t wear those glasses—not knowing was annoying.

“Yes, tired. Not everyone wakes up at sundown, some of us have normal, tedious jobs to go to.”

“I don’t wake up at sundown and since when has being tired stopped you from being polite?”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Ellis glanced at them over the glasses, his eyes shifting between hazel green and milky white. “There’s a bird in town.”

Nash frowned. As far as he knew there were thousands of birds in town. “A particular one you’re thinking of?” And since when were they ornithologists?

“Nope, that’s all I have for now.”

“You mean it’s a…vision or whatever?” What the hell could a bird mean?

“A whatever.” Ellis moved his hands like wings. “White one second, black the next.”

White? Nash pictured the guy in the coffee shop, the strange one, but he was a human, not a bird. He would’ve known if he was a shifter. Nash always sensed the shifters straight away, not that there were many. “Is it…Does it mean anything?”

“How would I know? I’m not the brain in the group.” Ellis raised his eyebrows before pushing his shades back in place.

“Gilbert?”

Gilbert flashed his fangs. “I’m pretty sure I’m the stomach of the group. Can we grab someone to eat? I’m starving.” Gilbert nodded at a young woman sitting two tables away. “I’m having her, have already established the link, so whenever you guys have picked yours—”

“You’re having a woman?” Ellis pursed his lips in distaste.

“To eat.” Gilbert dragged the words out. “Not everything is about f*****g, but if I was in the mood, I’d do her, she’s pretty.” He shrugged and Nash looked at the woman. She was pretty, long dark hair falling down her back in glossy waves. He never went for women, but Gilbert mixed up his dinner schedule fairly evenly between the sexes.

“Hey, I was the one trying to talk about the town’s bird problem, was I not?” Ellis sipped on his beer and looked around the room.

“Is it a problem?” Nash didn’t want any trouble…or maybe he did. Living a mundane life was f*****g boring, and he hadn’t been in a good brawl for ages.

“No idea, but all day different visions of birds have been flashing before my eyes. Sometimes it’s running away, sometimes it’s being hunted, and sometimes it’s nesting. Sometimes it’s white, and sometimes it’s black, but I know it’s the same bird. I have no idea what it means. Ninety percent of what I see is about people, so having a bird constantly pecking on the backside of my eyeballs is a bit annoying. I could use a little distraction, I think I’ll go with the blond at the bar.”

“He’s boring but go ahead.”

Ellis groaned. “How boring?”

Nash shrugged. “Dead fish in the sack.”

Ellis made a face.

“Yeah, yeah, can we get the show on the road, hungry remember.” Gilbert emptied his glass. His brown hair standing on end, looking like he’d just stepped out of bed, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Yeah, I think I’ll call it a night.”

“What?” Both Ellis and Gilbert stared at him.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood to get laid?” Ellis rubbed his forehead. “Why have I been seeing a bird all day if you were gonna spring something like this on us? I don’t like being caught off guard, Nash. It’s no way to treat a friend—especially not a psychic friend.”

Nash sighed. “I had no idea we were friends.”

Ellis gave him the finger which made Nash feel a little better. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just tired.”

“And you decided that now?” Ellis lowered his glasses again to study him. Nash shrugged.

“You wanna go howl at the moon or something?” Gilbert frowned at him, so Nash took the opportunity to flip him off.

“I’m…bored.” Maybe he was ill? He had a funny feeling in his stomach, and the scent from the guy in the coffee shop was still clinging to his nostrils no matter how much perfume the pub goers had doused themselves in.

“A f**k to cure the boredom? What can go wrong with that?” Ellis tapped the table. “I don’t see how anything can go wrong with it. You wanna do a threesome?”

“I don’t feel like it.” Threesomes had never been his thing.

Ellis grew still. “Do…erm…werewolves suffer from…erm…performance issues? Ouch! What’d you do that for?” Ellis rubbed his shoulder where Gilbert had punched him and glared. “I’m fragile, dammit.”

“I don’t have performance issues.” Nash dragged the words out. “I simply don’t feel like it. It’s the same boring people here, the same boring routine every Friday.”

“You want to go somewhere else?”

“No, I want to go home, have a pizza, and watch some lame action movie.”

“Well, that’s great.” Gilbert rubbed his forehead. “We’re leaving now.” As he got up, so did the woman at the table and the blond at the bar. It was a neat trick. They could fight it. If they really didn’t want to go, they wouldn’t, but Gilbert sent them a mental nudge. Nash was sure Gilbert could make the entire pub throw themselves at his feet if he wanted them to, but he also knew he didn’t get any kicks out of forcing people, so he never gave it much thought.

“See ya!” Ellis met the blond by the door, and together they strolled out into the night. Nash followed, but instead of heading home, he cracked his neck, sniffed the air, and started jogging.

Something invisible curled around his soul and pulled him away from town. The streetlights became sparser as his feet hit the asphalt on the narrow country road.

* * * *

Arlo picked at his ramen noodles and stared at the kitchen wall. He still hadn’t unpacked more than a few bowls, a little cutlery, and some pieces of clothing. The urge to call home was clawing at his heart. He’d never been able to. So many times he’d wished he could call simply to hear Mama’s voice, but something inside always stopped him.

Must be this house and how it reminded him of how he’d grown up that brought on the longing. It was no use, he’d never been able to go anywhere near Mama since he’d left.

The last time he’d been truly happy was when they had lived in the small house in the countryside many years ago. Before she’d met Rob, before Arlo had realized he was different, before the sickness, before he’d had to leave her.

He put more noodles in his mouth and chewed. He couldn’t go back, so there was no use in trying to call her or trying to find her online. It had been years since he Googled her name.

In the beginning, he was happy simply knowing she was alive, but as the years passed there were days when he had to fight himself not to try and find out things about her. He never had the same urge with any of the others he’d helped, those he needed to get away from and never see again, but maybe it was different because she was his mother—the only family he had.

He hoped she’d left Rob, wished she’d met someone worthy of her. There had always been something about Rob that didn’t sit well with him, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything specific. Maybe it was leftovers of a childhood jealousy. He’d had Mama to himself until Rob came along.

There was a decision he had to make tonight—or two if he was honest with himself, and things usually went a little easier when he was. Should he stay? And if he stayed, should he go back to the coffee shop?

Every fiber in his body wanted to build a home for himself, but he couldn’t take the disappointment of having to leave it behind once he was forced to move again. He had nowhere left to go, the last seven years he’d been all over the country and everywhere he looked on the map was too close to someone he had to stay away from. Soon he’d have to look for a place abroad.

This town was safe for now, and the job at the coffee shop wasn’t bad. Perhaps he could stay a couple of weeks. He just had to make sure he didn’t get to know anyone, he had to keep his distance from Holly, and he should under no circumstances speak to that Nash guy.

A tingle spread through his body. Arlo blew out a breath and stood. He wasn’t sure he could call it lust, but whatever it was it surprised him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? Reality was far from dreams and fantasies, and he’d tried the whole boyfriend thing—never again.

Nash. Allowing him to star in some fantasies couldn’t be too bad, could it? It was safe. Fantasies were just fantasies.

He put the half-eaten bowl of ramen in the sink and went into the living room. Reaching for a box of things, he halted mid-motion to look out the window. Darkness was all he saw, and yet he could’ve sworn someone was there.

Unease curled around his heart. He’d know if someone was watching him, right?

Narrowing his eyes, he tried to see past his reflection. The twigs on the small tree on the lawn were moving, but it had to be the wind.

He was being silly, why would anyone want to spy on him?

The box didn’t weigh much, but he had nowhere to put it other than on the floor. If he worked a few more days in the coffee shop before he started to look for another job, he might make enough to be able to buy a sofa and a coffee table at some thrift shop. Furniture would help against the echoing.

Glancing out the window across the room, he could have sworn he saw something move.

* * * *

Nash curled his fingers around the branch of the small apple tree. If anyone ever found out about this, he would die of shame—what self-respecting werewolf studied a human as he unpacked a box of things?

He snorted. The self-respecting part was up for debate. He hadn’t done much worth respecting these last years.

Leaning against the tree, he watched the man with the white hair for a bit longer before slipping into the shadows and walking around the house. He could almost see Gilbert’s cottage from the yard, it was across the field, hidden behind a few birch trees. He wondered what the guy would think if he knew he had a vampire as his closest neighbor.

Nash chuckled and kicked a small stone out on the gravel road. The chuckle died in his throat when he picked up a scent he hadn’t smelled before. Curling his hands into fists, he scented the air again.

Someone had been there.

Slowly, he crept closer to the house, this time on the opposite side. The smell was stronger there. Human, a faint trace of alcohol, and it had been there after the guy from the coffee shop had come back from work. Nash cracked his neck.

Someone other than him was spying on the man. Nash didn’t like anyone else taking an interest in the man—not that he was interested, but…

Careful not to be seen, he went to stand where the human had been standing and gritted his teeth. From there he could see the man move around inside, toothbrush in his mouth while braiding his long hair.

He would have to invite Ellis to brunch at the coffee shop tomorrow to see if he got any visions.