The Past Bites Back
1231 Words
Colson POV
Plans were dangerous things.
They had a habit of unraveling the moment you started feeling clever about them.
I sat at the small table in my apartment, chair tilted back against the wall, boots propped up where Ezra would’ve scowled if he ever bothered inspecting the place. The map was still spread out in front of me, its edges curling slightly where I’d traced the same route too many times.
North of the river.
Below the old rail line.
Forgotten ground.
I had a plan. Or the bones of one, anyway. A narrow window where Ezra would be distracted chasing the false trail I’d handed him, Kendrick would be busy posturing over territory disputes, and I could slip out, retrieve the first piece of the book, and vanish before anyone realized something important had gone missing.
Simple.
Which meant it was doomed.
I was just starting to enjoy imagining Ezra’s face when the trail ran cold when the knock came.
Three sharp raps.
Not loud. Not aggressive.
Controlled.
Confident.
The kind of knock that assumed compliance.
My humor evaporated.
I didn’t move right away. Instead, I let my senses stretch outward, tasting the air beyond the door. Two heartbeats. One human—steady, disciplined. The other… something else. Not vampire. Not wolf. Something heavier. Anchored.
My stomach tightened.
“Well,” I muttered, rising slowly. “That’s either terrible timing or the universe laughing at me again.”
I crossed the room without a sound and opened the door.
A man stood in the hallway, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed plainly but moving with the ease of someone who knew exactly how much damage his body could do. His eyes flicked past me, cataloging the apartment in a single sweep—exits, cover, threats.
“Colson,” he said.
Not a question.
“Depends who’s asking,” I replied lightly. “If this is about rent, I swear I was just about to leave town.”
“Kendrick requests your presence.”
The words landed like a punch to the gut.
Kendrick.
For half a second, I forgot to breathe.
That wasn’t right.
That wasn’t part of the night.
I remembered this time. Remembered it vividly. Ezra’s errands. The fight club. The witches whispering things I hadn’t bothered to truly hear. Kendrick had been a looming shadow in the background—dangerous, distant, someone you avoided unless you wanted to lose pieces of yourself.
He hadn’t summoned me.
Not like this.
I forced my expression into something lazy, amused. “Requests. That’s polite for him.”
“You’ll come,” the man said flatly.
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” I replied, reaching for my coat. “I just like knowing when I’m being threatened.”
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile.
That unsettled me more than a snarl would’ve.
As we walked, my mind raced.
Had I already changed something?
Or had Kendrick always known more than I’d realized the first time around?
Both possibilities were bad. One suggested my actions were rippling faster than expected. The other suggested I’d been far more blind in my old life than I liked to admit.
Kendrick’s territory announced itself the moment we crossed into it.
The air thickened. Not with magic the way vampire domains did—no crawling hunger, no seductive pull. This was different. Older. Heavier. Like the space itself was alert.
We descended underground, past levels Ezra never bothered claiming. Stone replaced concrete. Shadows clung to corners like they were alive.
No music. No guards in sight.
Just the quiet certainty that screaming would be pointless.
The doors opened without a sound.
Kendrick’s office was vast and dim, lit only by a handful of low-burning sconces. The space felt carved rather than built, as if the stone itself had been persuaded to move aside.
Kendrick stood at the center of it.
Tall. Broad. Still.
His presence filled the room without effort, the way some predators didn’t need to move to remind you they were lethal.
He didn’t turn when I entered.
“Colson,” he said calmly. “You look exactly the same.”
“I moisturize,” I replied. “Keeps the centuries from showing.”
My escort melted back into the shadows and disappeared. The doors closed behind me with a soft finality that made my shoulders tighten.
That was when I felt her.
A presence behind me.
Silent. Cold. Watching.
I didn’t turn.
Turning too fast would’ve been a mistake. Predators smelled fear. Witches tasted curiosity.
Instead, I tilted my head slightly. “You going to introduce your friend, or is this the dramatic pause meant to make me nervous?”
Kendrick chuckled and finally turned to face me.
His eyes locked onto mine.
And for the first time since I’d been dragged back into this era, something close to genuine fear slid down my spine.
He knew.
Not suspected.
Knew.
“There’s no need for games,” Kendrick said mildly. “You’re very good at them. But they bore me.”
I shifted my weight, keeping my tone light. “You wound me. I’m told my charm is timeless.”
Behind me, the air shifted.
The woman stepped forward just enough for her presence to sharpen. I still couldn’t see her face—only the outline of her form, slender and composed. Her magic didn’t flare.
It waited.
Witch.
And not one I recognized.
That alone was deeply concerning.
Kendrick’s gaze never left mine.
“So,” he said casually, like we were discussing the weather,
“you’re from the future.”
The room went very, very quiet.
Every instinct screamed at me to run.
Instead, I laughed.
It came out a little rougher than intended, but laughter had kept me alive for centuries.
“Wow,” I said. “Usually I have to buy someone dinner before they accuse me of something that insane.”
The witch moved again. Just a step.
The shadows around her bent unnaturally, like they were leaning in to listen.
Kendrick smiled.
“Don’t insult me by lying,” he said. “You’ve always been many things, Colson. Subtle was never one of them.”
I met his stare, forcing my heart to slow.
If he knew…
If he truly knew…
Then this wasn’t a ripple.
This was a rupture.
“Well,” I said finally, shrugging. “Guess that explains why tonight feels nostalgic.”
The witch’s head tilted, interest sharpening.
Kendrick’s smile widened, predatory and pleased.
“Relax,” he said. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here.”
“That’s comforting,” I replied. “In a deeply unsettling way.”
He began to circle me slowly, boots silent on stone. “The future is noisy, Colson. It leaves echoes. You’ve brought them with you.”
My jaw tightened.
“So what now?” I asked. “You arrest me? Experiment on me? Ask for lottery numbers?”
The witch laughed softly for the first time.
Kendrick stopped directly in front of me. “Now,” he said, “you work for me. Same as you always have. The difference is…”
He leaned in, voice dropping.
“…I’ll be watching more closely.”
I swallowed.
Because in that moment, one truth became painfully clear.
The past wasn’t just biting back.
It was learning.
And it already had my scent.
- Writer
