José Ortiz's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

Zack ran. The rain came down hard enough to sting, and the road under his boots turned to a black shine. He had left the inn on the bluff twenty minutes ago and he had not slowed. The innkeeper's face stayed printed behind his eyes. Same jaw. Same mouth. Same voice, smiling a smile Zack thought he’d never see again. Zack needed Alana. Alana kept books older than most countries. If anyone could tell him why a living human wore a dead man's face, she could. Her house sat past the pines at the edge of town. He put his head down and ran. Halfway there his mind remembered a market in Italy, and the rest of him followed. 1821. Dust instead of rain. He had been standing at a fruit stall, pretending to care about pears, when a man behind him laughed at the price. Zack had turned. Lavitz. Tan, lean, shirtless with torn grey pants, a grin like he already knew the punchline. "Robbery," Lavitz said. "Tell him." Zack told the seller. The seller laughed and dropped the price. They walked. They kept walking. They talked until the stalls shut and the lamps came up. Lavitz asked, quiet, if Zack wanted to meet again. Zack said yes before he thought. They picked a chapel yard past the wall, after dark, where no one went. In 1821 that was the only way. A hand under a table. A name said once and not again. Zack had loved him inside a week and had not told him for a year, and even then only in a room with the shutters closed. A puddle broke under his boot and threw him back into the rain. He was on now in the woods, halfway to Alana’s house. Zack could use vampire speed and be there in no time but he needed time to think. Could this be Lavitz reborn?