After seven years of being on the move, Arlo Barman wants nothing more than a place to call home. But unbeknownst to him, Arlo is a caladrius healer, so staying in one place has never been an option. The compulsion to separate himself from those he's healed is all-consuming and leaves him little choice but to pack up yet again. Nash Silver is the only werewolf in his small coastal town. Living undetected in a human world is imperative for his kind, and he and his small circle of friends -- a vampire and a psychic -- have done so for decades. But Nash's anonymous existence is jeopardized when a man with an enticing scent moves into town. From the moment Nash lays eyes on the stranger, nothing is more important than being close to him. Not even guarding his secret. Arlo isn't interested in a relationship or even a date, his past has taught him nothing good comes from it, but the rather pushy local popping up everywhere he goes has his heart somersaulting. If he's heart is somersaulting or not doesn't matter, because when Nash gets injured, Arlo is the only one who can save him. Having used his powers, Arlo has to leave Nash and the cozy town he wanted to make his home, but can Nash survive being separated from his mate?

Black Bird

Holly had been a bubbly, chatty ball of excitement the entire day and Arlo had been unable to eat. Again.


He slowed down as he neared the Big Square. It was a small square, but according to Holly, it was called the Big Square. When he came up close to the coffee shop, he turned left down a slope and there on his right was an apartment building. He checked the street sign to make sure he was on Tradesman Street and parked the car.


For a few seconds, he sat and looked around. The street was narrow, at the bottom floor of the buildings there were shops—a retro bakery, a fabric parlor, a travel agency, and one place that looked like a pharmacy and yet not. At the end of the street, right as it overlapped into a cobblestone road, was the local newspaper in a beautiful white stone building as old as the street itself.


Chapter 11