C34 A.C
ALARIC
I couldn’t shake his words.
Some souls attract darkness.
The way Andy had said it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t a metaphor. It was deliberate—aimed directly at me like a blade sliding between ribs.
When I left Sydney’s hospital room, my pulse was thrumming so hard I thought the walls themselves might hear it. I walked, fast, then faster, until I was out of the building and standing in the night air, chest heaving.
The city buzzed around me with its usual noise—horns, chatter, sirens in the distance—but it all sounded muted, muffled, compared to the pounding in my head.
Andy wasn’t normal. I’d known that from the first moment I’d felt his aura—a slick, unnatural heaviness that seemed to slither under my skin. It was the same kind of darkness I’d sensed only once before. The night Sophie died.
And now, years later, here he was. Smiling at me like a predator. Sliding cryptic remarks into conversations as if daring me to piece it together.
I clenched my fists.
No more dead ends. No more waiting. Tonight, I’d start digging.
---
I started with the easiest lead—his name. Andrew Callahan. Too polished, too clean. Men like him rarely left footprints. But I had my ways.
Immortality teaches you patience. It also teaches you how to sift through centuries of human deceit.
By midnight, I was in my study, papers scattered across the oak desk, multiple screens glowing with hacked databases, property records, financial slips. Maya hovered at the door, arms crossed, worry carved into her face.
“You’re doing it again,” she said quietly.
“Doing what?” I didn’t look up.
“Chasing ghosts. You’ll make yourself crazy.”
I finally raised my eyes to hers. “He knows, Maya. About me. About Sophie.” My voice cracked against her name. “And if I’m right, he’s not here by accident. He’s here for Sydney.”
Maya’s expression softened. She stepped in, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Then protect her.”
My chest tightened. Sydney’s laugh, her sharp tongue, her infuriating persistence—all of it flashed in my mind. I didn’t want to protect her. I wanted to push her away. But what if Andy was using her as a pawn?
I didn’t answer Maya. Instead, I turned back to the screen.
---
It didn’t take long to find cracks in Andy’s story.
His company records were thin, almost too perfect. No debts, no lawsuits, no business rivals. His past addresses were scattered across continents, each one lasting only a few years before vanishing.
Then there were the names—aliases buried in old archives. Andreas Cole. Anton Callen. A. C. Always the same initials. Always slipping just out of reach.
I froze when one document surfaced.
A police report. Twenty-four years ago. A hit-and-run.
The driver? Never caught. But a witness claimed they’d seen a man step out of the truck for a moment before fleeing the scene. A man with “striking light eyes.”
My stomach twisted. Sophie.
---
By the time dawn painted the sky in streaks of gray, my study looked like a war zone of papers and empty glasses. I hadn’t fed, hadn’t slept, hadn’t moved except to pace the room when the rage grew too strong.
Maya appeared again, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re scaring me.”
“I think he knows about Sophie,” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “And he’s just been circling me all this time.”
Maya frowned. “What does he want?”
That was the question. Did he want revenge? To expose me? To toy with me by dangling Sydney in front of my face like bait?
Or worse—did he want Sydney for himself?
The thought clawed at me, more unbearable than the idea of my curse, more suffocating than the centuries of solitude.
---
I told myself to stay away. To let Sydney play her childish games with her ridiculous bet. To let her lose interest on her own.
But that wasn’t how this worked anymore. Not with Andy in the picture.
By mid-morning, I found myself in the hospital.
Looking for her.
I stormed into her hospital room like I was being chased.
Her eyes widened as she saw me. Then crossed her arms with that infuriatingly smug smile.
“Wow,” she said. “Did hell freeze over? Or are you actually here again for me?”
“Stay away from Andy.”
Her smirk faltered. Just slightly. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “He’s dangerous. Don’t go near him again.”
Her chin lifted. Defiant. “Funny. Last I checked, you don’t get to tell me who I see or don’t see.”
I gritted my teeth. “Sydney—”
“No.” She jabbed a manicured finger at my chest. “You don’t get to storm into my life, insult me, push me away, then suddenly play knight in shining armor when it suits you. You want me to stay away from Andy? Give me one good reason.”
I hesitated. My secrets pressed at the back of my throat like broken glass.
Finally, I muttered, “Because I said so.”
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. “That’s not good enough.”
---
As I left the hospital, my phone buzzed.
An anonymous message. No number. Just one line of text:
You couldn’t save Sophie. You won’t save her either.
My blood ran cold.
---
