Colson

The Power They Don’t Know I Have

Colson POV

The farther I got from the city, the louder my thoughts became.

That was always the problem with open ground. Too much space for memory to stretch its legs. Too much quiet for truths to stop pretending they didn’t exist.

The book.

It wasn’t just dangerous—it was insulting.

A spell so old it predated covens, hidden not in place but in time, warded against vampires as if the universe itself had decided we’d done enough damage already. Typical. Cosmic morality always came late and half-assed.

“A vampire can’t touch it,” I muttered as I walked, boots crunching softly over gravel and dried leaves.

That was the rule.

The witches had been very clear about that part.

The book rejected creatures of the night. Burned them. Unmade them. Refused to be read by anything fueled by blood and hunger.

Which would’ve been a real problem.

If I were just a vampire.

I slowed, frowning slightly as another thought slid into place—one I hadn’t let myself linger on yet.

Ezra didn’t know everything about me.

He never had.

Not really.

He knew I was useful. He knew I was dangerous. He knew I survived things I shouldn’t have. What he didn’t know—what this version of him couldn’t possibly know—was what I became after he died.

I stopped walking.

“Time-traveling, immortal, super-powered vampire,” I murmured. “No pressure.”

I flexed my fingers, feeling the faint hum beneath my skin.

The Earth Crystal.

A gift I hadn’t earned, not really. A relic older than most gods, bound to me in a future that hadn’t happened yet—but still real. Its power didn’t feel like magic or blood or spellwork. It felt… fundamental. Like gravity deciding to cooperate with me personally.

I wasn’t just undead anymore.

I was something else.

Something the book’s wards might not recognize.

Something Ezra had never accounted for.

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at my mouth.

“Well,” I said quietly, “that changes the odds.”

The watch in my pocket buzzed.

Not faintly.

Not politely.

I pulled it out, eyes narrowing as the vibration intensified against my palm. The glass face shimmered, numbers shifting in that maddening way Amaris had warned me about.

Time was compressing.

“Of course it is,” I muttered. “Because why wouldn’t it?”

I didn’t have long.

Every second out here mattered—every whisper, every half-hidden truth. I needed clues. Locations. Patterns. Anything that could point me toward the book before the watch forced me back to the room.

I wasn’t failing her.

Not now. Not ever.

I turned back toward the city, pace quickening as the air thickened with familiar rot and magic. The wards loomed ahead, pulsing softly as dusk began to settle.

That was when the trouble found me.

I smelled them before I saw them.

Kendrick’s vampires.

Five of them.

Loud. Arrogant. Sloppy in the way only creatures who’d never been truly tested could afford to be. They stepped out from behind the trees like they’d rehearsed it, blocking the narrow path back toward the city.

“Well look at this,” one of them drawled. “Ezra’s favorite errand boy taking a stroll.”

I sighed.

“So much for a peaceful walk,” I said. “You boys always travel in packs, or is this a self-esteem thing?”

One of them snarled, eyes flashing. “You’re a long way from home.”

“I like to explore,” I replied. “Really broadens the horizons. You should try it. Might help with… whatever this is.” I gestured vaguely at them.

They rushed me.

Of course they did.

I moved on instinct, ducking the first swing, driving an elbow into a ribcage I heard crack satisfyingly. Another caught my shoulder, claws slicing fabric but not skin. I hissed, more annoyed than hurt.

“Rude,” I snapped.

They were strong—Kendrick always favored brute force—but they fought like bullies. Predictable. Overconfident.

Still, five on one wasn’t easy.

I let myself bleed just enough to sell the struggle. Took hits I didn’t need to take. Let my breathing roughen, my movements slow.

Because I couldn’t tap into my real power.

Not yet.

The Earth Crystal pulsed beneath my skin, impatient, eager to end this quickly—but I shoved it down. If anyone saw that, word would spread. And Ezra would start asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

So I fought like the old me.

Dirty. Brutal. Efficient.

I broke one’s arm and used it to club another. Bit into a throat and spat the blood out instead of feeding, just to make a point. Took a blade to the side that made me grunt and laugh at the same time.

“You hit like a toddler,” I told one of them as I slammed his head into a tree. “Adorable effort, though.”

The last one tried to run.

I didn’t let him.

When it was over, I stood there breathing hard, blood soaking into my coat, knuckles aching. I hadn’t lost.

But it hadn’t been easy.

“Note to self,” I muttered, wiping my mouth. “Changing the past apparently comes with surprise beatings.”

The watch buzzed again.

Harder this time.

I swore under my breath and staggered back toward the city, pain catching up now that the adrenaline faded.

I was cutting it close.

As I approached the outskirts—where the city bled into neighborhoods no one important bothered to watch—I slowed.

Something pulled at me.

Not the watch.

Not magic.

Her.

I looked up.

There, at the edge of a quiet street, stood a modest house that looked painfully ordinary. No wards screaming for attention. No obvious magic. Just soft light spilling from a window.

And in that window—

Amaris.

She stood silhouetted against warm lamplight, hair loose, expression focused as she worked over a table scattered with herbs and books. Calm. Intent. Alive.

Hiding.

Right under everyone’s nose.

I stared, heart thudding painfully against my ribs.

“Of course,” I whispered. “That’s just perfect.”

She was here.

Now.

This version of her.

She didn’t know me.

Didn’t know what she would become to me. Didn’t know how far I’d go for her—or what she’d one day sacrifice to save the world.

The watch buzzed again, urgent.

Time was almost up.

I had a choice.

Approach her now—risk everything, change everything—or step away and focus on the book, the threat, the future hanging by a thread.

But another thought followed close behind.

What if I needed her?

Not the Amaris who already knew how this ended—but the one who was still free, still hidden, still able to move without chains.

What if this version of her was the key to finding the book?

I swallowed hard, eyes locked on the window.

“Damn it,” I muttered. “You really don’t make this easy.”

The watch vibrated, relentless.

I had at most a day, if not less.

Decision time.

I took a step closer.

Then stopped.

Could she work with me?

Would she?

Or would I destroy something sacred before it ever had a chance to exist?

The warmth in my chest pulsed once—steady, patient.

Waiting.

So was she.

And whatever I chose next…

There was no undoing it.