The Watcher

by Lisa Voisin

  His sweatshirt draped open at the neck, exposing the edges of his collarbones and the dip in his throat where they met. Despite everything I’d been through, all I could think about was planting kisses there. Clearly, sleep was the last thing on my mind.

  Catching my gaze, his face became shadowed. “Arielle said we should keep an eye on you.”

  “Arielle?” I asked. At the mention of her name, I had a twinge of envy.

  “Sure. We work together.”

  So Arielle was a Grigori too. That explained a lot: her otherworldly beauty, the flickering lights that day in the café, and even the way the shadows—hellhounds—disappeared. “She’s not your girlfriend?”

  “No,” he said, scrunching his nose. “It’s not like that.”

  A knot in my chest relaxed. It had formed the moment I first saw them together at the movie theatre, but I’d become so used to the feeling I’d forgotten it was there.

  Next thing I knew he was outside the car, opening my door. As I got out, I accidentally brushed his arm, and the draw to be near him was so strong I had to lean back against the metal to steady myself. Then, as if in answer to a silent prayer, he wrapped his arms around me and closed the distance between us.

  Pressing his lips to the crown of my head, he breathed the words “I missed you” into my hair, softly, as though it were a secret that only I was meant to hear. Then, letting his arms drop, he stepped away.

  All the lights were on when I got in the door and the house smelled of pine cleaner. Mom scrubbed the kitchen counter with the TV on, trying not to look like she was waiting up for me. From the looks of it, she’d cleaned the whole house.

  She greeted me cheerfully, focused on removing a spot from the counter. “Did you have fun?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to be understated. She seemed different to me now, still my mom, and yet not the same. Perhaps I was the one who had changed.

  Realizing I was still wearing Michael’s jacket, I hung it up in the hall closet before she could notice.

  “He likes you,” she commented.

  “Mom,” I said. “So not ready to talk about it.” And I didn’t just mean my date. The things Michael told me—that I remembered—shook me. I’d lived another lifetime before.

  Mom didn’t let up. “There’s something really good about him.”

  I stifled a wry smile. “Angelic, even?” If she only knew!

  “No, honey. Men are never angels,” she said sagely. “Besides, it’s the devil in them that we love.”

  Before she could ask any more questions, I kissed her goodnight and went to my room just so I could be alone. I doubted I’d be able to sleep. Every idea I had about my world was being challenged. Demons were real and came here to hurt people. The strange creature that chased me that morning in the park was a hellhound, and Damiel—who was a demon—had sent it to find me. Michael was a Grigori—an angel—albeit in rehab, and I’d shared a life with him thousands of years ago.

  As soon as I closed my eyes, memories of the night flooded my mind with dizzying speed: Damiel at my door surrounded by black sooty shadows, Michael fighting him with the blue sword in his hand. I wanted to know more about the past, who I was back then, what had happened to me. To us. Had I lived other lifetimes since? But no matter how hard I tried, my present-day memories wouldn’t give way.

  An hour later I lay in bed still awake, shivering. It wasn’t from the cold, because I’d already cranked the heat up and covered myself with every blanket in the house. The only thing that helped was thinking about Michael. I remembered the warmth of his arms around me as he hugged me goodbye, and a flush of restlessness flowed through me.

  With Mom now in bed, the house was quiet and still. I crept out of my room to the hall closet and retrieved his jacket. I got back into bed and laid it beside me, enjoying the comfort of its smell. This time when I closed my eyes, I remembered the feel of his arms around me, the sound of his beating heart, and with these memories I relaxed easily into a deep sleep.

  ***

  I awoke well-rested. Sunlight streamed through my bedroom curtains, filling my room with a peaceful, warm glow. My phone was crammed with text messages from both Heather and Fiona, asking how my date went. I replied with a quick Good—I’ll tell you later which must have had them thinking Damiel was still around. But I couldn’t explain his disappearance, or even the fact that he was a demon. When I got out of bed, Mom had already made a pancake breakfast, so we ate together in front of the TV. Mercifully, she was focused on getting ready for a mid-shift at the hospital and didn’t ask about my date.

  Shortly after she left for work, Bill called my cell.

  “Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I tried calling and all I got was static. Then I called back and some guy answered.”

  “Just now?” I asked, sitting on the couch. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

  “Yeah. Said he was expecting you.”

  I shivered in spite of myself. “Weird. What else did he say?”

  “Nothing. The line cut out, so I called back and got you.”

  For a brief moment, I wondered what it could have been. Was it just a wrong number or something else? But Bill changed the subject. “You know that guy you asked me about…”

  My throat constricted. With everything that had been going on, I’d completely forgotten. “Damiel?”

  “Yeah. I checked him out. He’s got no birth records, no school records. There aren’t even any death records for him. This guy is totally off the grid. Technically, he doesn’t exist.”

  Of course he didn’t exist. He was a demon. A wave of panic pushed at me, but I fought to stay calm. “Wow,” I said. “You checked all that?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  What if Damiel knew Bill was looking into him? I didn’t know all he was capable of, but I knew he was dangerous. “Can anyone tell that you did all that? I mean, you won’t get caught, will you?”

  “Gee, paranoid much? Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about you?” I could hear the tapping of his fingers on the keyboard. Always multitasking. “Who is this guy?”

  “Nobody. Forget about him.” The idea of Damiel getting anywhere near Bill terrified me. “Please?”

  Bill stopped typing and when he spoke, he sounded worried. “Hey. He’s not bothering you, is he?”

  “No,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

  “Stay away from this guy, Mia. I mean it. He sounds like a scumbag.”

  If he only knew. “I will,” I said. “I promise.”

  A few minutes after Bill and I hung up, the doorbell rang, startling me. Still a little creeped out from my conversation about Damiel, I peeked out the kitchen window and saw Michael.

  “Hi,” I said. Rushing to open the door and hug him, I buried my face against his chest and felt the softness of his light gray sweater against my cheek.

  “Hey.” Caught off guard, he chuckled, but his body was stiff as he put an arm around me. Was he nervous? “I thought we could finish that walk we started last night. While the rain holds off.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  He took me to Alki Beach, partly because it was close and partly because it was one of the best places in the area to walk. I liked it there. I especially liked being there with him. By daylight, I could see out over Puget Sound, where the choppy gray water reflected the storm clouds above.

  He was right about the rain. It looked as though it would come down any minute, and when I stepped from the car the cold air smelled of ocean, seaweed, and evergreens as it filled my nose. With the exception of a few joggers, the beach was deserted. The tide was low, and acres of rocks, teeming with marine life, stretched out along the shore.

  Some of the nearby trees had already started to turn. Half-ochre, half-green, their leaves had dried around the edges, holding onto the memory of life. Others had fallen to the ground. As we walked, Michael seemed to notice them too.

  “What was
I like? You know…before?” I asked. “Was I different?”

  When he turned to me, his eyes were the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and they had a way of looking at me that made me feel equally vast and deep. “What do you remember?”

  I closed my eyes and recalled the house we lived in, the glow of sunrise along its walls. But mostly I remembered Michael. The way that being near him made me feel exactly the same as it did now. They were the same images and sensations over and over, no more than the night before, but no less.

  I felt the heat of him and opened my eyes to find him standing only a foot away from me. Could he see what I saw?

  As though catching himself, he stepped back. “Arielle suggested I spend time with you.”

  The mention of her name gave me a twinge in my chest. Obviously they were close. “You saw her last night?”

  “Of course. We check in,” he said. Turning, he headed toward the rugged shoreline.

  I followed him, my sneakers crunching and slipping on the damp rocks. I had to watch my step. “Why did she suggest you do that?”

  “She’s trying to help me.” A gust of wind blew his hair into his face and he lazily pushed it back. “When we first came here, many of us became sick and fell to one of the seven deadly sins—envy, pride, lust. It took me longer. I thought I was different, but I got caught up in it just like the others.”

  “Caught up in what?”

  “Lust,” he said and flashed me a sideways glance that was positively scorching. The effects rippled all the way down to my knees. As though sensing my reaction, he turned back to the white-capped waves crashing against the shore. “It wasn’t just about sex…” He checked my reaction again, as though expecting me to shy away from him. I didn’t. Hearing him use the words sex and lust made a shudder of want rise within me. “I forgot who and what I was.”

  Instead of saying more, he brushed his fingertips along my cheek, and his halo glimmered. I could hear the waves slapping the rocks behind us, the wind driving them in. That same wind whipped against my skin, but the touch of his hand on my face was all I could think about. It sent a current through both of us and filled me with longing for something I wasn’t sure I understood.

  “I’m sorry.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets as the light around him faded. “You don’t know what it’s like. Being near you now, remembering those moments we had…” His hair blew into his eyes, but this time he didn’t move. I wanted to brush it back, but I didn’t know how he’d react. Would touching him be bad?

  “You want to know who you were?” he asked. “You may look different, but you’re the same. I look into your eyes and see you.” He took in a deep breath, fixing his attention on the horizon. I’d seen and heard so much now that the logical part of my brain had long since given up arguing with me. I could feel what he was saying was true. All of it.

  “What was my name?” I asked.

  “Sajani.” When he spoke, his voice was a chord, and the sound of my name echoed through me like I was an instrument being strummed. “It means ‘beloved.’”

  I drew in a deep, shaky breath, letting in a stream of emotion that practically drenched me. Very gently, he pulled me into a hug. The sound of his voice echoed through his chest as he spoke. “I’m supposed to let you go, but I can’t.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Placing a finger under my chin, he gazed into my eyes. His were filled with warning. “We can’t…I can’t be with you that way.”

  “What way?”

  He pressed his lips into my hair and I flushed as I realized what he meant. I wanted to ask why, but didn’t want to say anything that would interrupt this moment. His heartbeat pressed against my cheek as I breathed in the scent of his skin. Out of the corner of my eye, the sparkling glow of his halo surrounded us and a tingle of energy buzzed, stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. It awakened every cell in my body, and I thought if we could just do this, the feeling itself was incredible. Surely this would be enough.

  “It’s okay,” I said, leaning to look up at him.

  “It’s not really fair to you, to be with you and not be able…” A lock of hair had blown into my face. He tucked it gently behind my ear. “I can never be with you like that, Mia.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. The heat of his touch lingered on my skin. “I don’t think I could never have this again and be okay.” My voice broke as I realized how much he meant to me, how much he had always meant.

  “You’d be fine,” he reassured me. “You’re much stronger than you think. Stronger than me. You always were.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “What are you saying?”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “Please. Don’t cry.”

  His hands gliding to the sides of my waist, he leaned in close—so close I stopped breathing—and kissed a tear that had fallen down my cheek. Afraid he’d back away, I lifted my lips to his, brushing against them, softly, tentatively at first, awakening the current that trembled through me. Twining my arms around his neck, I drew myself into him. And with a sigh, he tightened his arms around me, parted his lips, and the culmination of thousands of years of waiting poured out of him like a dam had burst.

  The energy around us built with the wind off the water, rushing past my skin, tangling my hair. I wanted to be swept away, carried above the clouds to the heavens. For a moment, everything was warm and bright like the sun.

  In the distance, I could hear a gentle female voice in the wind, then a chorus of voices, speaking all at once, calling Michael by name.

  His body tensed, but he pulled me closer, his kisses more urgent. The wind had died down, and a golden flare brushed my skin, searing me. I crushed myself against him, hips against his thighs, welcoming that heat. There was nothing I wanted more than this.

  “Michael,” the voice—or voices—said firmly, “you must stop now.”

  Why couldn’t the voice just go away? I wanted to get closer to that heat, crawl into it, let it consume me. But with those words, he froze. Gently but firmly he untangled my arms from around him and backed away, not looking at me but at the ground.

  Behind him, Arielle was furious.

  “Is this your idea of being on duty? You were wide open. We could have easily had another breach,” she said, her voice still sounding choral. “If I wasn’t here, anything could have come through.”

  Michael shook his head gravely. “I didn’t expect…”

  “You were sent into the body of an eighteen-year-old male for a reason.”

  He glared at her, his expression all at once wild, dark, and haunted. “The ultimate test?”

  “For your own recovery,” she said. “You know you’re not being punished.”

  They talked as though they were discussing some kind of science experiment and not the intimate experience we’d just had. Still reeling from the intensity of his kiss, I couldn’t help but think that if she hadn’t arrived, we might have enjoyed ourselves a little longer. What would have been so wrong with that? My heart sprinted in my chest, aching to be near him, and my body craved his touch. I was cold, so cold I started to tremble. I wanted—needed—him close to me. This was how an addict must feel. It was as though someone had just filled the needle and tapped it, about to plunge it into my veins, and then someone else came along and took it away.

  Arielle gave Michael a stern look. “Your energy’s way too much for her. You’ve enthralled her.”

  What did she mean, enthralled?

  Michael clasped his hands behind his head and huffed out his breath. “Not on purpose.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You know our laws are absolute. What if the others found out?”

  As I listened to them speaking as though I wasn’t there, I couldn’t help but wonder how she’d found us and why she was telling him off. Did she want more than friendship from him? If she did, she had a funny way of showing it. My confusion must have shown on my face, because they both stopped talking and turned to me.

  �
��It’s not how you think,” she said, her voice sounding more human. “I don’t feel the way you do for him, and I don’t disapprove of you, either.” She then turned back to Michael and said in a more musical voice, “She doesn’t know I’m your sponsor, does she? If you’re going to keep her around, you might want to think about telling her.”

  “Hello, tell me what? I’m right here,” I exclaimed. “Why are you talking about me when I’m right here? It’s rude.”

  Arielle looked sharply at Michael. “She can hear us?”

  “Of course I can hear you,” I replied. “What do you mean you’re his sponsor?”

  Arielle spoke to me in the same voice I’d heard her use at the movie theater. “You can hear me now, right?”

  “Of course!”

  “What about now?” she asked. Her lips didn’t move, but her voice was musical and clear. It was a different voice.

  I nodded, my mind reeling. How can I be hearing her speak when her lips aren’t moving? I wanted to cry again.

  “She can hear us telepathically,” she said out loud this time, and her serene, perfectly balanced face registered alarm. “I wonder how far along the network—”

  “What’s going on? What network?” I asked. Their serious expressions were beginning to annoy me.

  “You can hear our thoughts, Mia,” Michael said. “We’ve not known anyone who could do this before.”

  “You’ve not known,” I said.

  Looking concerned, Arielle took a step toward me. “Have you heard us before?”

  “No,” I said quickly, then recalled the morning in the park, the flash of light. I’d heard something that morning too. “Once, maybe. After I was chased. But it was really staticky. I thought it was just a radio or something.”

  “It’s clear now?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “People hear things when their adrenaline is up, like when they’re afraid, but having it come in so clearly…” She turned to Michael. “Another side effect of you kissing her. You have to be careful.”

  “I am…” he began, but stopped at Arielle’s look. He ran his hands down his face and let out an exasperated sound. “Do you think its effect will wear off?”