Chapter 1: Alaric
On the corner of Main Street, the autumnal sun lilted down through the clouds, projecting a prism of light through the changing leaves. The crisp breeze carried a hint of the coming winter, mirrored by the hues of red and orange that adorned the trees. Collingwood had always been locked in this beautiful dance between untouched nature and the technological growth of humanity.
So, where do I fit in this balance?
The diner was a small, dilapidated thing, but in this town, everything was. Truth be told, this little sandwich cafe felt like the largest place here. The exasperation in my chest finally spilled out. I flicked my wrist, displaying my H.O.L.L.O. The familiar shimmer of light and sound winked into existence, swirling together into an image on my wrist that read four fifty-eight in the afternoon. The local students would be itching for the bell to ring, signaling that classes would let out soon.
It wouldn't surprise me if Mr. Morrison hadn't even noticed me slip out during his lecture. That man was more invested in the subject than any of us, that was for sure. I was willing to bet anything Ryn had likely noticed my absence. I'm sure she'd tell me all about it soon enough, and I had more than enough things on my mind.
I guess this is as good a place as any for an introduction. My name is Alaric Black III. Yes, those Blacks. Please though, call me Lark. Alaric is the kind of name I'd expect an old man to have, not a twenty-one-year-old. And I was caught up in the history of that name. This maddeningly tiny town was dubbed Collingwood. It's a very old and forgotten place. Small isn't even the word, really. Some would say quaint or cozy, but to me, claustrophobic fit the bill. This place clung to me like chains enveloping a cornered animal constantly bound, trying to break free of it all. I glanced down at my device again.
Five pm. If Morrison didn't roll over, class is out. Only a matter of time now...
My H.O.L.L.O. chimed its off-key chirp no more than two minutes later. Glancing at the holographic display suspended in the air of Jazzy's diner, Ryn's text appeared on screen. Then another, and another. I wasn't ready to face her just yet; I was lost in my thoughts, grappling with something I couldn't share, even with her. In one fluid motion, I dismissed the notifications, even though they left a bad taste in my mouth.
To my surprise, one of the notifications was an ad. Nothing unusual, but this one felt different. It was the personalization that threw me. That was new. "Alaric, don't fall behind the future. Let's pull the world out of the past and into tomorrow! One H.O.L.I. at a time. Surgeons are booking appointments for implantation as we speak! It's time to step into the light of purity. H.O.L.I. -- It's Not Just a Device. It's Your Destiny."
I dismissed it, and a few choice words escaped under my breath. Sarah stalked over, balancing a tray on her arm.
"There you are! The Jazzy's Special."
She just had to start working here this summer. It was so inconsiderate. She was making my world feel that much smaller. Without even looking up, I could feel her presence lingering close by longer than I'd have liked. The sound of her footsteps faded into the background, and when I glanced at her retreating form, she produced a smile that lingered uncomfortably before disappearing into the kitchen in the back.
I played along, and when she inevitably returned, I smiled awkwardly back at her. She was a convenience. The cook was her connection, not mine.
My gaze shifted back out the window and onto the quiet, barren intersection. A few leaves on the street rustled lazily in the wind. I didn't want to bother with my food. It wasn't why I was here. Regardless, an uneasiness clung to the lining of my stomach more aggressively today.
I'm sure it was probably the constant dwelling about tonight that had me wound up. It was already 4:05, and I was burning daylight sitting here. The autumn sun was already beginning to wane. I was waiting for the main course, ready to soothe the feeling of dread I couldn't ever quite escape.
Right on cue, Tim, a rather large and burly man, strutted out of the kitchen and threw his apron over his shoulder. Tim was known and well respected. Besides making the best food worth eating in town, he actually helped the community. Mainly checking in on the elderly. Ryn had the biggest crush on the guy back in middle school. It was hard to believe he was only a few years older than us. He winked at me before he made his exit, the bell on the door gently ringing as he went.
No sooner than he left out the door, Sarah was standing at the end of the table again, smiling in my face, "So... Lark. What's your special plans for it tonight?"
"Huh?" I asked, watching as she continued to smile wistfully at me. She got one of her ridiculously long acrylic nails caught in her hair as she twirled it around her finger.
Probably hoping I didn't notice, she threw her hair and hand over her shoulder to rest there before she answered, "Your drinks, silly." She giggled as she slid into the booth facing me. Jazzy's was an excuse not to go home, but she was quickly making me regret that decision. Leaning forward, she dropped her voice so I would follow suit. It seemed pointless because there was no one else in the place, but I leaned in a bit to hear her whisper, "Do you have any special plans? Maybe..." She paused for a moment to lick her lips. It was a slow movement, and I could tell by how her breasts were spilling out of her cream-colored crop top as she pushed them further out onto the table that it was an intentional motion. She was trying to seduce me. "... someone to spend the night with?"
She reached for my arm, but I flinched before she could touch me. I could see in her deep hazel eyes that the action had hurt her. She'd have to get over it. "Yep!" I said as I stretched and leaned back into the booth, "It's October thirtieth. Tonight, Ryn and I are celebrating our twenty-first together." I watched Sarah's smile as it faded, and I could feel mine dissolving from my face as well.
This news didn't deter Sarah, though. Unfortunately for me, she was prepared to double down. "You know, Alaric, I'd always thought that you and I would make the perfect duo. You, a Black, plus me... an Auclair?"
I already knew where this was headed, and I wanted off this train fast. "It's just Lark, Sarah. And they're fucking family names. They don't mean shit." She gasped, and I stifled my annoyance from escaping. I'd dodged this conversation all summer. Somehow, I knew it was coming, but still, I was not prepared or thrilled for that time to come.
She blinked at me and continued, "Oh, come off it. It's in our blood. It's our heritage! I know you've been taught well by that old crone on the hill. She's always spewing out some supernatural history or other to anyone who will listen."
She stood waiting for something that I wasn't giving her. I was not interested in this conversation to begin with, and now my patience was disappearing with my growing irritation. Gran wasn't blood, but she was my family, and I hated how people would talk about her like she was just some crazy person, mouth flying off the handle whenever someone was around.
A slight desperation from my lack of response started showing in her actions. "Don't you see? It's simple destiny, baby. Black and Auclair?" The sultriness returned to her tone, "That's a match destined by the Gods, wouldn't you agree?" She fluttered her eyelashes at me.
I couldn't take it any longer. My restraint had left, "Sarah, I'm not in the mood for this today. You're probably as much Black as I am, and vice versa for Auclair! Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, creatures from sirens to... I don't know. Fuckin sea serpent? What makes us what, huh? Names? And what the hell is that, hm? Just a series of letters. Auclair's? Black's? They can all go fuck themselves for all I care."
She looked me up and down with utter disgust, "Excuse me?"
Fuck.
"No, Sarah, listen. Really listen. History doesn't matter to me. As far as I'm concerned, it's entirely irrelevant!"
Her hazel stare bore into me as she parted her lips to speak, but I cut her off, "There's nothing left in the blood. Nothing meaningful at all. Not even a fraction of what our Ancestors had."
I had some ability, but it wasn't enough to actually mean anything, and it definitely wasn't anyone else's business.
She pouted for a moment before she let a slight smirk slowly splay on her face. Leaning in closer and dropping her tone again, "Regardless of our heritage, you're hot, and I'm hot. Our Ancestors would approve. Can you imagine what our children would look like?" She sighed.
Gross...
"I'm sorry Sarah. You and me? It's not happening. You know I'm with Ryn." She scowled at the words. Her family was full of notoriously shady people, and history told me Sarah was no different.
"Do you know what else?" she continued. There was an odd look in her eyes. Rage with somewhat of a strange glint that hinted at something more. Secrets buried and untold. I leaned in a little bit, now fully intrigued. "I've heard a lot of things about a lot of things. Most recently, about the Blacks. A little birdy hinted to me that you are one of the last Blacks."
Last Black's...?
"Not only are you one of the last, you are the direct--"
She stopped short, her eyes flicking behind me as if someone else had just walked into the room. But we were alone. Her expression twisted for a heartbeat into something between fear and recognition before the smile snapped back into place like a poorly fitted mask.
"You know what?" she laughed, too brightly. "Doesn't matter. Just stupid rumors. You and I? Now that's the real story, Lark."
But something in her tone had changed. Her eyes didn't meet mine again.
The ring of the tiny bell on the door startled Sarah right out of her seat. Tim chuckled, "Little cat and mouse caught in the act? Lark, you pull 'em fast, boy! Don't pretend like I ain't noticed." Sarah scowled at him as she walked away.
Tim pulled the bottles out of his pack, and it hit the table with a satisfying clink. "There she is big man. Now this shit stays between us, yeah? You might be one of us, but the humans don't know the difference, and to them, you're under age."
"Our brains develop quicker than theirs do, so don't give me that underage crap. And they don't even know we exist, Tim." Twice in one sitting, I'm hearing about shit that doesn't even matter anymore.
"Bottom line, kid, you get caught? You don't know me, got it?" He gently knocked his hand on the table twice and then returned to the kitchen.
Sarah returned with a glass and placed it on the table a little too aggressively, the corners of her mouth still downturned in a pout. The clack of her heels on the linoleum echoed in the empty space as she stomped off to the door to turn the open sign off before she, too, retreated to the kitchen. I wasted no time in cracking open a bottle and pouring it. Throwing the glass back with ease, the burn comforted me as it slid down my throat; It rested warm and hot in my stomach.
Sarah glared at me again from behind the counter, and this time, I raised my shot glass to salute her. Her eyes shifted upward in silent frustration before snapping back to mine.
Black's and Auclair's, huh? A match made in hell is more like it.
Once again, Sarah sauntered over to me, "So, twenty-one tonight? You know what that means, don't you?"
"C'mon Sarah... fated mates? True love? It's all shit. Myth. Nothing more." I ran my hand through my sandy brown curls.
"What? You don't believe in our history? Fine. But I'd at least expect you to tell me you'd already found Ryn, and she is your true love."
