The Watcher

by Lisa Voisin

  He paced from the kitchen into the living room. I followed him, drying my hands. “How did it go?”

  “We were swarmed. They were lesser demons, but all working together, like Azazel. There were hundreds this time. Arielle and I tried to call to the others for help but they landed so fast… At first we tried to stay focused on the assignment. The girl…she was…”

  He rubbed his eyes. Was he tired, or trying to wipe away what he’d seen? I couldn’t tell. I wanted to hold him, give him some comfort, but his body was so wiry and tense I wasn’t sure if he’d let me in.

  “You did all you could.”

  “By the time we were done…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the look of devastation on his face said it all.

  “You did your best,” I said soothingly.

  “Arielle said the same thing.” He sighed heavily. “The girl was attacked, but she lived. When we’d dispatched the demons, it was easy enough to pry the beast off of her. Not so easy to let him live.” His anger filled the room as he strained to pull himself together, his expression both haunted and sad. “It could have been you.”

  I took a step closer, touching his face, and he leaned his cheek into my hand. “I’m right here,” I said reassuringly.

  “What if it happens again?”

  “You’ll be more prepared,” I said. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. If anyone can learn from this, it’s you.”

  He sighed, accepting that. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he opened his arms so I could lean into him. As he rested the side of his face gently on the top of my head, I listened to the steady beat of his heart, knowing I needed to mention the note from Damiel but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet—not when he’d had such a rough night.

  Within a few moments, he tensed and backed away. Bright light flared around him. Squinting, he shifted his focus as though he was listening to something far away. A look of resignation crossed his face.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m still on duty tonight.” He ran a hand through his wavy bangs, pushing them out of his face. “I’m being called,” he said flatly. “To Portland. Another major attack.”

  “Portland?” I asked, shocked. “Portland’s a three-hour drive away.”

  “It’s way faster by air,” he said, and it took me a moment to realize he planned to fly.

  I knew that he would at some point have an assignment and be called elsewhere; he had a larger purpose. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. He’d already been on one call that night and it seemed to have deeply affected him. Clearly, he needed time to process.

  His expression hardened with determination. “I’m not going.”

  “Wha—?”

  “I’m not going. They can send someone else.”

  “People’s lives depend on you.” I thought of the attack he’d just prevented. However badly it went, his being there had made a difference. “That girl probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”

  He took my hands in his. “Your life depends on me, too. Your life is the one that matters to me. Don’t you get that? I’ve waited thousands of years to see you again—”

  “Michael, you can’t disobey.”

  “What if all of this is a ruse? It all picked up since Damiel left. What if it’s a trick to keep me busy and away from you?” He linked my fingers through his and pulled me closer. This didn’t sound anything like him. The Michael I knew was bound to his sense of duty, obedient to God, and determined to ascend. Something was wrong.

  “Michael, you sound paranoid,” I said, trying to keep myself calm. Seeing him this worried made me think things were a lot worse than he was letting on.

  “Or maybe I’m the only one who sees this clearly.” He bent his forehead to mine, almost touching. I wanted to lean in, to soothe him, but I had to talk some sense into him.

  Unlinking my hands from his, I held the sides of his face. “You have to go. You can’t—”

  The rest of what I was going to say was cut off by his lips pressing against mine. His kisses were intense, angry, restless, as he leaned into me, filling a need within him and awakening a need inside me, too. I was swept away by it. I knew it was wrong, that we should stop, but I didn’t care. In no time at all I had reclined on the couch, his body pressed into mine, and I didn’t want him going anywhere.

  Still on top of me, he pulled back and placed one of my hands on his chest. His heart hammered against it—as fast as my own. The look he gave me was fierce and yet gentle too, as if he saw so much more of me than I even knew existed. He stayed that way for a long time and said nothing. He didn’t have to; his look said so much. I met his stare, matching his quickened breathing, my heart pacing with his.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was deep, husky. “Mia, I—”

  “Can’t. I know. It’s okay.” I touched his arm lightly with my other hand. I wasn’t going to stop touching his chest. His heartbeat was steady but fast. “We should stop.”

  “I love you,” he confessed. His eyes captured mine with a dazzling blue light. “I always have.”

  I’d suspected he felt something for me, but hearing him say it meant more than I’d ever imagined. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “I can feel it.”

  “You can?”

  “Yes. It makes it so much harder to stop when I know your feelings, not just my own.” I couldn’t keep the look of amazement off my face. He brushed a stray hair out of my eyes and continued, “All the angels can feel, but for so long I couldn’t. I forgot how amazing it was… It’s why enthrallment is so dangerous; it reverberates. So if I make you feel something, I feel it too.”

  “Michael, you haven’t made me feel anything.”

  He kissed me again with a dizzying intensity and swept me up into his arms until I was on top of him, kissing his face, his neck, as he let out the softest of sighs. His hands, warm and strong, gently caressed my sides, the skin just under my shirt, and the next thing I knew my shirt was off. My soft blue lace bra was pretty, and if I didn’t know it looked good on me I would have from the look on his face: he regarded me as though I was the most beautiful thing in the world.

  Saying my name softly under his breath, he kissed me again and again and again. It was what I’d always wanted, but something was wrong. There was something else he was supposed to be doing—not this. He turned us again until he was on top, and removed his shirt and then the white singlet. His skin was beautiful, glowing a soft gold in the incandescent lighting of my living room like he was bathed in candlelight. His chest warm and smooth, I had to touch it, feel it against my own skin.

  “Michael?” a female chorus said, the voice so familiar to me now. She had entered so silently neither of us had heard her.

  Of course. If an angel is on duty and disconnects from the network, Arielle had said, we have to check in. It was creepy to even think about how visible we were.

  Michael’s shoulders tensed but he kept kissing me, ignoring her, and the intensity shot up between us. I tried to stop but couldn’t. I was drawn into him, as though we were one being separated only by skin.

  “Michael,” she said again more insistently.

  “Go away,” he replied, his voice surprisingly cold, a stark contrast to the warmth from his kiss. He didn’t stop.

  “Are you insane?” she asked. “You’ve been called. You must go.”

  He kissed my throat, the side of my neck, as one of his hands stroked the side of my waist. I didn’t want him to stop. But he had to. “Michael,” I whispered between labored breaths. “She’s right.”

  I started to sit up, but he held me down. His voice with me was soft, soothing, his breath hot on my skin. “It’s okay. She’ll leave soon.”

  “Michael!” she bellowed, her voice a trumpet blast.

  He stopped kissing me and sighed impatiently. “I’ve got to stay with her.”

  With her arms folded over her chest, Arielle looked furious. I sure
wouldn’t want to cross her. “Disobeying a direct order? Tell me I didn’t get brought into this so you could fall again.”

  “It’s just another peripheral attack. Can’t you see? It’s a ruse. Damiel will be back, and who’s going to watch over her?”

  “Can’t you see? You can’t do it.” She motioned to his position on the couch. “Not like this.” Her voice, still a chorus, was steady and calm, a contrast to Michael’s agitation.

  “Why not?”

  “You know why not.” She moved into him and, with inhuman force, pulled him off of me.

  His temper exploded with the force of an air gun. He shook himself free of her grasp and raised a hand instinctively, like he was going to strike. I held my breath.

  Fearless and ferocious, she continued, “You’re weak. You’re not in the network. There’s no power without your connection. Without it, Damiel will eat you alive! What will happen to Mia then?”

  The golden glow of her halo flamed brightly even in my well-lit living room. It burst from her in a ripple of light that rushed Michael, igniting his own halo. His hand fell and he blinked at her as though waking from being drugged.

  “You’ve been called. You must go. You’re needed.”

  He motioned to me. “Who will watch Mia?”

  “I will. She’ll be safe, I promise,” Arielle said.

  He nodded slowly, accepting his task. “If anything happens to her…”

  “It won’t.”

  I sat up and pulled on my shirt, flattered by the fact that he looked a little sad to see me cover myself up. “I’ll be fine. Arielle knows what she’s doing.”

  “Been at it a while now,” she added and threw his singlet at him.

  He put it on. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “I know.”

  I hugged him goodbye, my body aching to be with him. Knowing he felt it too, that he could feel me, I pulled away. He hesitated a moment, gazing at my lips, compelling me to kiss him, but if I started again we wouldn’t stop. So I turned away and he left.

  “He’ll be okay, won’t he?” I said to Arielle, who was standing in the living room calming herself.

  “He should be.”

  “I mean he won’t fall again because of tonight?”

  Her clear golden eyes revealed nothing. “I’ve got to go straighten out another mess. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while. If you need me, call, okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She didn’t say anything, but her look acknowledged me before she left.

  Standing up, I noticed that my legs were wobbly and my body still pulsed with desire. It had never been this intense before—like a drug—not even that first time we’d kissed. After being so close to him just moments before, Michael’s absence now almost hurt. I was cold and lonely in a whole new way. Was this the enthrallment I’d been warned about? Or was it just love?

  Beneath it all, I was agitated from my afternoon: Damiel’s note, and then the Tarot reading—that Devil card plagued me. It seemed the longer Michael and I were together, the more likely it was that I would cause him to fall—or at least stray from what he was here to do. Knowing he could feel my feelings meant he would know how much I wanted him—which in itself was too strange to even consider. How long could I be close to him without causing a disaster? I couldn’t bear to be with him and not be close, and I couldn’t bear to be without him.

  Grabbing my iPod from my purse, I found the loudest, angriest song I could. I didn’t care that it was after ten, that the neighbors were likely asleep. I hooked it into the stereo and put it on repeat with the volume loud enough for the bass to pound against my chest. Retrieving Michael’s jacket from my room, I used it as a pillow and lay on the living room floor as close as I could get to the speakers, the heavy pulsing beat filling the lonely hole in my chest. Tears flooded down my face.

  I don’t know how long I lay there or how many times the same song repeated. Vibrating through the floorboards of the old house, the music was so loud I didn’t notice Arielle standing there until the music shut off.

  “Hey! Put it back on!” I said, getting up.

  Her halo blazed around her as she approached me with the grace of a cat. “I didn’t need to even try to sneak up on you…”

  “So?”

  “Dear one,” she said, her voice a musical and soothing balm, “I bring you a message.”

  “From Michael?” I stood up. “Is he okay?”

  “No. Think higher up than that.”

  “Oh, so now God’s going to order me to stay away from one of His angels?”

  “Not at all.” Arielle’s smile was kind. “Will you hear it?”

  Her halo had grown so bright it was hard to look at her. I nodded, my chest tightening. I realized I was afraid to know what God had to say to me. What could He possibly want from me other than for me to get lost? No wonder. I had obviously messed things up for Michael before.

  “You know Damiel is coming back.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you know he wants you for some reason.”

  “I know.”

  “Sure enough. But what you do not know is how Damiel will hurt Michael.”

  “How?”

  “He’s going to exploit Michael’s weaknesses. He’s going to use his past and make him believe he’s unforgivable. That’s Michael’s ultimate weakness. He can’t forgive himself for his past, and it started with what he did to you.”

  “What did he do to me that was so horrible?” I said, reaching back in my memory for some kind of glimpse of what happened.

  “We’d hoped that by spending time with you, Michael’s memories would return on their own. The only other witnesses are on the wrong side to be of any help.”

  “Which leaves me as the only witness.” I sat on the couch.

  “Exactly. We were wrong about Damiel. If you’re the only witness, it makes no sense for him to force your memories back…unless he was trying to short-circuit you and destroy those memories altogether.”

  It took me a moment to process all she had said. “My memories are that important?”

  “Yes. Very. We need you to remember what happened so that Michael can forgive himself before it’s too late.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I have an idea.” She came over to sit beside me on the couch and her halo tingled beside me. It blazed much stronger than Michael’s.

  “Does it involve going through that network again?”

  “No, we need to tap into your memories,” she said, rolling up the sleeves of her beige jacket. “It’ll be different this time. Hold still and, no matter what, keep breathing, okay?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When she placed her scorching hands on my head, a brilliant white light erupted through my brain like sheet lightning. I couldn’t help but gasp.

  “I know it’s warm, but it won’t do any damage. Just keep breathing.”

  “As if I’m going to stop,” I said, but I focused on my breath anyway.

  My mind blanked as though it were rebooting, obliterating any thoughts I had about what we were doing or what would happen next. An exploding fireworks display of colors and images followed, pictures that came so fast I couldn’t make sense of them. I winced, inhaling sharply as a piercing pain shot between my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Nice, deep breaths. This will pass too.” The resonant tones of her voice echoed right through me.

  I closed my eyes, the sound of her voice guiding me until the pain subsided, and a tunnel of brilliant golden light presented itself. I followed it until I saw Michael. Sitting on a roughly-carved wooden stool, he watched as I took wildflowers from my hair and placed them in a bowl of water, their silken petals limp between my fingers. We were inside the same house I’d had visions of before, and through its small round holes for windows, stars sparkled in the night sky. Next to us stood a table covered with dried fruits and cheeses left over from a feast, from some kind of celebratio
n—our wedding.

  Michael stood, his full height almost to the ceiling, and held out his hand to me. He spoke a different language, but somehow I understood it.

  “Come to bed—wife.” The corners of his lips curled into a smile filled with desire and the promise of such pleasure that my skin flushed even remembering it.

  Was this it? Was this what he was forbidden to do? Marry me?

  But in that life, I smiled and danced, twirling around him and humming a tune from that time as I meandered toward our bed. Light from the fire flickered in the blackness of his eyes. He was different then. Even though his face held all the signs of his beauty, it was shadowed by a sadness that I hadn’t seen in him before, as if his glory had dimmed somehow. But in that moment I didn’t notice. I was focused on him, fueled as much by his desire as by my own. When I was close to the bed, he grabbed my arms, raising them above my head, and kissed me hungrily, without restraint, and a rush of passion flowed through me.

  From what Michael had suggested about our past, I would have expected a wild disrobing or something forced at this part, but this was gentle, beautiful. It was strange to have a full memory of something I hadn’t done in this lifetime. I couldn’t see myself but saw it through my own eyes, as though it were happening to me, which it did. Even back then, the chemistry between us was incredible, and though it was only a memory my body responded.

  Grappling for self-control, knowing that it wasn’t actually happening in the moment, that I wasn’t alone, I nervously pushed the memory aside, hoping Arielle couldn’t see it. At least Michael wasn’t with me. I would have jumped him for sure.

  Next, I saw us waking with the sunrise, naked on a bed of furs, Michael peaceful as he slept. Scars ran down the length of his back where his wings had once been.

  Like being startled awake, I snapped out of the memory with a pounding heart, a dry mouth, and sweaty palms. Arielle’s hands rested on my shoulders as she searched my face for an answer.