The Watcher

by Lisa Voisin

  ***

  When I didn’t see Michael all morning, I began to worry. If he was still battling hellhounds, there had to be a lot of them. Were other people getting hurt? Was Michael? What if they got to my mom? I thought of her lying on the ground outside our house, unconscious, while those creatures feasted on her flesh. The image haunted me so strongly that when I finally saw Michael in the hallway before last class I rushed up beside him.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “It’s fine.” He leaned toward me and our sides touched. It was electric, and he backed away slightly, as though he felt it too. “We got all the hellhounds, if that’s what you mean.”

  I let out the last of my breath, and the knot that had formed in my stomach relaxed.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning in again. “Are you okay?”

  “I was worried about my mom. You know, in case…”

  “She’s fine,” he reassured me. “Arielle and I double-checked your place.”

  “Thanks.” Hearing Arielle’s name reminded me of what I wanted to ask him. “Arielle told me what happened to Fiona.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  We reached the door of my Latin class. I lowered my voice, looking around to make sure no one could hear us. “She showed me those minions—parasites, whatever—that get on people, the ones Damiel sent.”

  “She showed you that?” he asked.

  “Yeah, and I thought maybe we could tell Fiona…”

  One of my classmates, a tall, freckled blond guy whose name escaped me, wanted to get in the room. Michael backed me out of the doorway into the hall. “Tell her what, exactly?”

  “That it’s not her fault. That she was attacked by something terrible,” I said. “That she didn’t do it to herself.”

  “No, Mia. You can’t tell her that. Nobody can know what you know.”

  “Why not? I know these things.”

  He took a moment to consider his answer. Out of the corner of my eye, his halo flashed like paparazzi cameras on Oscar night. “Telling you was a tough decision to make. I did it because you’re different. You already see these things, and if you’d listened to me about Damiel in the first place…”

  I stiffened. “That’s the only reason you told me? Because you had to? The cat was already out of the bag?”

  “It was a sign that I could tell you. You were in danger.”

  “My friends are in danger, too! I can’t not let them know what’s coming at them. How can they fight it?”

  A few more students made their way into the room. Class was about to start. I had to get inside. Michael held my arm, quiet and serious. “Believe me. Knowing about these things only makes it worse. I told you—”

  “She’s my friend.”

  “What do you think would happen if you told her? After everything she’s been through? With all those doctors questioning her?”

  Ms. Nelson, my Latin teacher, approached. “Class is starting.” She turned to Michael. “Are you joining us today?”

  “Nos iustus postulo paululum,” Michael said. We just need a moment. His accent was perfect, his voice a chord.

  Nodding, Ms. Nelson backed off and shuffled into class.

  “Did you—?”

  “I bought us a few minutes,” he said quickly. “What if Fiona says something?”

  “She won’t.” I remembered how Elaine found out about Michael rescuing me in the woods. Fiona wasn’t the best at keeping secrets. “They’d think she’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”

  He was right. There was nothing I could say to Fiona to make it all better. The only thing I could do was be her friend, even if that meant hiding something from her. At least it was for her own good.

  My cell phone rang, making me jump. I’d thought I’d turned it off. The number was blocked on my call display, but I answered it anyway. From the other end came an inhuman screeching that sent tendrils of ice down my spine. Around my neck, the warding necklace from Fatima twitched.

  I was about to hang up when I heard a voice. Tinny and metallic, it sounded dreadfully familiar. “I like it when you wear your hair down. It’s so sexy.”

  My breath froze in my chest. “Who is this?”

  Beside me, Michael tensed. My phone was loud enough that he could hear everything.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already,” Damiel’s voice purred on the other end of the phone. “I haven’t forgotten you.” I pictured his eyes the last time I’d seen him, the way they shone that terrible red. But then he was in a body—Giulio’s body.

  Could he see me? Right now? “I thought you were gone.”

  “Oh, you mean what Michael did?” He laughed—a cold, evil sound. Behind his voice, I could still hear the screeching. “It takes more than that to get rid of me.”

  Michael clasped his hands behind his head and turned away. “Just hang up,” he said.

  “Tell Michael to remember who he’s dealing with.”

  “Leave us alone!” I said and hung up.

  Michael muttered something under his breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was cursing.

  My hands shook, so I clasped them together. “Is he back?”

  “If he was back, he wouldn’t bother to call,” Michael said. “He’d just show up.”

  “He said something about my hair.” I shuddered, remembering the sound of his voice. “Can he see us?”

  “No, but the hellhounds saw you this morning and he works closely with them. They’re his eyes and ears. He’s messing with your head.”

  “I thought he was in Hell. How did he call—?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “He could have intercepted an incoming call.”

  “Can he do that?” I asked. A terrified, crazed animal paced in my chest. I wanted to run as far and as fast as my legs would take me, but they’d turned to liquid beneath me.

  Noticing my reaction, he backed me into a locker so I could lean against it. I pressed my fingers into the metal behind me until they hurt.

  “You mustn’t be afraid,” he said. “He won’t get anywhere near you. I won’t let him.” The halls now empty, we were alone. In the background, I could hear Ms. Nelson starting the class, but Michael stood so close I didn’t care about being late. He let out his breath slowly. “I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

  “You didn’t,” I said.

  “Oh, but I did.” He slid his hands to the sides of my head, stroking my hair. It was meant to be comforting, but my spine melted from his touch. Leaning his forehead into mine, he whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next few days were almost normal.

  At school, I marveled at how Michael passed for perfectly human. Nobody else could see the intermittent flashing of his halo or the vague outline of his wings. The fact that I knew what he really looked like was an intimate secret between us, almost like seeing him naked would be. Okay, nowhere near as good as that. But I was beginning to enjoy it.

  Elaine published an article on her blog saying I broke Damiel’s heart and rejected him for Michael and that’s what made him go away. The article upset me a lot more than it did Michael, who just ignored it, but he wasn’t the one being called the next whore of Babylon—something I had to look up the meaning of online. The girls who liked Damiel gave me dirty looks in the hallway. It made me almost wish Damiel would come back, as long as he left me alone.

  At night, Michael watched out for me, but kept his distance like I was some kind of VIP and he was my angelic security service. Though they’d cleaned up the hellhound problem, something was worrying him. Something he didn’t want me to know.

  Fiona came back to school on Wednesday, and Heather and I stayed close. We wanted things to be as normal as possible and she didn’t need people gossiping or staring at her. At least Elaine didn’t print anything in the school paper, which, for Elaine, was actually decent.r />
  I was on my way to lunch with Michael when I noticed Fiona alone at her locker fumbling with her books. She dropped one, and as soon as she went to pick it up another one fell. She didn’t seem depressed this time, but a few people were chuckling at her while they gossiped amongst themselves. I could tell it made her uncomfortable.

  “We should go talk to her,” I said to him. “Take her to lunch.”

  “Wait a sec,” he said. When I gave him a questioning look, he added, “You’ll see.”

  “Are you going to wave a magic wand or something and make it all better?”

  He whispered in my ear, “I’m an angel, not a fairy godmother.” The heat of his breath traveled all the way down my neck, and I had to fight the urge to press myself against him.

  Arielle appeared in the hallway. At first I thought she might say something to us, but other than giving Michael a nod, she walked right past. “Hey,” I said, lifting my hand to wave at her.

  Michael caught my hand. “Shhh,” he said, his voice barely a whisper in the noisy hallway. “Don’t draw attention to her; she’s working. It’s going to help.”

  “We’re the only ones who can see her right now?” I felt utterly foolish. Of course she was working. She doesn’t go to school.

  If anybody else had seen me, they’d already moved on. Arielle approached Fiona and touched her arm. Fiona didn’t seem to notice, but this was how it worked. Arielle would whisper words of kindness, unseen, and Fiona would start feeling better. She’d already brightened. A smile crossed her lips.

  Michael squeezed my hand and led me down the hall to the cafeteria. It was amazing how much it meant to me, this simple touch, showing that he cared.

  We arrived at Heather and Jesse’s table and he let my hand go. If they saw us holding hands, they didn’t say anything. Michael and I acted like friends but they must have noticed the way I behaved around him, the way my breath would catch whenever our eyes met, or the way my skin would burn if he stood or sat too close.

  “May I join you?” It was Farouk. He had a girl with him. Her dark brown eyes were so intense they seemed to look right through me.

  “Is this Fatima?” I asked.

  “Hello, Mia,” she said. Although Farouk hadn’t mentioned it, she was a junior, the same year as him—which meant they must be twins. Her accent was less pronounced than her brother’s, but she had the same curly black hair—only hers was long and wild, giving her an exotic beauty.

  “Your hair is gorgeous,” I said.

  “Thanks.” She tugged at one of her curls, examining it. “It needs a trim.”

  “I’m glad to have a chance to finally thank you for the necklace,” I said.

  “You’re most welcome.” She grinned at me, then leaned forward to ask, “Did it help?”

  I recalled having Damiel at my door, the hellhounds around my house, and the way the necklace had vibrated each time, some kind of warning. It must have been letting me know when I was in danger. “Yes, it did.”

  “You might not need it so much now.” She glanced knowingly at Michael, who was chatting with Jesse. “But you never know.”

  Could she see Michael, too? The way I did? I didn’t know how to ask without giving away his secret, so I kept quiet, almost awkwardly so, and looked out the window at the rain that wasn’t letting up.

  Fatima and Farouk finished lunch early because they had to study for a biology exam. They left as the topic changed to our weekend plans.

  “Hey, this weekend Kevin Foster’s parents are out of town and he’s throwing a big party,” Jesse said.

  “How big?” Heather asked.

  “Everyone’s invited. He’s got a huge place,” he said, looking at all of us. “You guys should come.”

  I was eating a chicken salad that seemed oilier than usual. It slid down my throat and sat in my stomach like a lump.

  “Who’s Kevin Foster?” I asked, not sure I wanted to go to a stranger’s party.

  “He’s in his junior year at Sealth,” Jesse answered, then turned to Michael. “You remember his brother Dave? His parties?”

  “Yes,” Michael said, gazing out over the cafeteria, absently keeping watch.

  “Dude, you should come. It’ll be awesome.”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Chloe will be disappointed.” Jesse gave him a suggestive smile.

  Michael shot Jesse a look that silenced him. Jesse’s gaze darted quickly in my direction and then fixed on the table in front of him.

  Who was Chloe?

  Michael shifted in his seat and squeezed a packet of ketchup onto his plate. He had hardly touched his burger. I was going to ask right then and there who Chloe was, since everyone at the table seemed to know something about her. But Fiona and Dean joined us, holding hands, and Heather took the opportunity to break the awkward silence by chatting with them. Michael excused himself quietly and left.

  For the rest of lunch, I listened to Heather and Jesse chat about the upcoming party with Fiona and Dean. I felt more out of place than ever. While Heather managed to look mystified—she didn’t know anything about Chloe—Jesse ignored me. It was as though the space I occupied no longer existed. As soon as lunch was over, he took off.

  I asked Heather, “Who’s Chloe?”

  “I’ve never heard of her, but I can ask Jesse if you want,” she offered.

  “No. Let me try Michael first. I think I need to hear it from him.”

  In English class, Michael sneaked in a few minutes late. We were still reading Hamlet, and Mr. Bidwell called on me to read Ophelia’s lines in Act III Scene II. In the scene, Ophelia was upset over the way Hamlet had been treating her. I could relate. After all, who was this Chloe, and why did Michael walk away after her name was mentioned? Jesse was reading Hamlet. Ophelia’s lines were short, but I read them right at Michael, hoping for a reaction of some sort. I got none.

  After class, Michael caught up with me. “I’m on duty after school today,” he said, “but I can drive you home.”

  “Who’s Chloe?”

  He scanned the crowded halls to see if anyone was listening and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Dave and Kevin’s older sister.”

  “You know what I mean! Why did the conversation— How much older?”

  “She’s in her third year of college now, I think.”

  Third year of college—that meant she was Bill’s age. Michael had dated older women. I could never compete with that. “Were you seeing her?”

  Grabbing my arm, he guided me into the nearest empty room, the chemistry lab. All the tables were clear, and someone had lined beakers and bottles in neat rows along the shelves. He closed the door before he spoke. “I haven’t seen her since before the accident.”

  “Were you…?”

  “I was drunk. We both were.”

  “And?”

  He leaned against the desk at the front of the room, his hands gripping the wooden desktop so tightly that the veins popped at his wrists. Tilting his chin, Michael looked up at me, and I knew without a doubt that something had happened between them.

  My stomach lurched, and the chemical smell in the air hit the back of my throat like I was going to be sick. I leaned against one of the tables to steady myself.

  “I was much different then,” he said. “She was a friend… It was before everything.”

  “How could it be before everything?”

  “You know what I mean. Mia, please…” He reached for my hand, but stopped. I wished he hadn’t.

  “Look. I know we have this ancient history and all, but—”

  “Nine thousand years,” he said plainly.

  If he planned to distract me, it worked. My mind reeled with the thought. “Is that how long—?”

  “Do you really think that one night at a party could compare to that? I was very drunk… We both were. I hardly remember it.” He looked maddeningly far away. Was he thinking about her?

  Hot, furious tears filled my eyes. I wiped them away with
my sleeve, aching to be close to him and knowing my words and actions were pushing him away. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t help but think about her and how she would know him, be close to him, in a way I never could.

  “I wasn’t the same person then.” He leaned closer to me and the presence of his halo, warm and tingly, soothed my skin—even through my clothes.

  “No,” I said, shaking the feeling off. “From what you tell me, you were exactly the same person; it was just your spirit that was different.”

  “A person is both,” he said firmly. His halo still hovered around me, even though I refused the sensation. I wanted to feel cold. Alone. He sighed. “I told you, Mia. My sin was lust. If you think this is bad—”

  “You just said you were a different person then.”

  Slouching, he shoved his hands in his pockets and crossed to the side of the room, moving even farther away. “Please, you’re making too much out of it. This, this was nothing compared to—”

  “How can you even say that to me?” I cut him off, more loudly than I expected. I was going too far but couldn’t stop myself. “Are you really that unfeeling?”

  His halo flickered and dimmed. The effect made the glass bottles on the shelves behind him appear to shake. What I’d said had hurt. He ran his hands down his face and drew in a deep breath.

  “I can’t argue with you about this,” he said and walked out of the room.

  My insides jumped and stung like I’d swallowed a hornet’s nest. I stood in the classroom and cried. Outside, the rain had stopped but the sky was covered in a blanket of clouds, and though I was indoors, wind rushing through the trees chilled right through my bones. It seemed to take forever for the halls to empty so nobody would see me leave.

  Since Labor Day, I’d been avoiding the park. But now the hellhounds had been caught. The muddy trails were slick and covered in wet leaves, so I had to watch my step. Above me hung a thick canopy of evergreens that made it seem more evening than afternoon.