Watcher: Book I of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  “How would you like to take a little shopping trip? I have something special in mind. I believe you will like it.” His green eyes dance with that amusement I love so much.

  “Okay.” I look up at him, shaking my head. He sure likes his surprises.

  CHAPTER 25

  We walk into the garage, Nicolas flips on the light switch, and I stop in disbelief. This isn’t a garage—it’s a showroom. Before me is a row of polished exotic cars in all colors, their deep lacquer and chrome reflecting the light beaming from strategically placed fixtures.

  “Which one should we take today? Choose.” His eyes sparkle like the shiny toys lining the room.

  “I don’t know. There are so many.” I walk slowly along the row. Ferrari, Bughatti, Lamborghini, Pantera, even a DeLorean, and more that I don’t know. Then I see the one I want to ride in. The two-seater convertible is a gleaming bright yellow with classic black racing stripes down the hood.

  “That one.” I point to the 427 Cobra.

  “Ah, you have most excellent taste. One of my favorites,” he says, grinning.

  “I will have Alfonso bring the car around to the front. We should return to the house and see if Marie has a scarf you can borrow, or I am afraid you will never be able to untangle your hair.”

  We are flying down the highway in the jet engine that masquerades as a car. Its deep growl reminds me of Nicolas, and I reach over and stroke his jaw and throat. He looks over at me, eyes suddenly flaring red, and touches my throat in response.

  Nicolas wanted to take the car out and let it stretch its legs, as he called it, and we blasted onto I-25 heading south toward Pueblo. But apparently he feels we’ve gone far enough and takes the next off-ramp, then gets back on the highway heading north. He punches the accelerator and the Cobra leaps forward with a roar, pinning me back in the seat.

  I laugh wildly, and he glances at me and grins.

  Quickly reaching the downtown off-ramps, Nicolas takes one, reining in this beast of a car. Slowly cruising through the city streets, the Cobra thunder echoes off the buildings as we pass. I’m now in love with this car as well as its owner.

  We park on the street in front of a string of boutiques. Nicolas gets out, feeds the meter, and opens my door.

  “Aren’t you afraid to leave it here?”

  “Do not worry. No one will touch her.”

  People pass by on the sidewalk, stopping to admire the flashy yellow car, and seem to instinctively stay back to do so.

  Nicolas, his hand softly resting on my back, guides me into a formal-wear dress shop.

  “I thought you might like to wear something new tomorrow evening. Unless you already have a dress that is suitable?” His eyebrows raise in question.

  “Yes, no, I mean I don’t have anything really . . .” At least nothing to wear to a party at an upper-class estate.

  “Good.” He then turns to the anxiously waiting saleswoman and says something about gowns on hold. She disappears into the back of the store.

  I start looking at the dresses hanging on a rack, mesmerized by the styles and colors. The saleswoman walks out carrying a couple more.

  Nicolas gestures to the dresses she’s holding and says, “Perhaps you could start with these? I selected several I thought you might like.”

  I blink in surprise. He picked them out? When did he have time to do that? Maybe this morning?

  “Oh . . . how nice. Thank you.” I start to take them from the saleswoman, but she motions to the rear of the store.

  “Would you like me to put them in a dressing room for you?” she asks.

  “Yes, that would be fine.” I follow her down a short hall and into the rather elegant room, then close the door when she leaves.

  All three are long gowns and finely made. I try the lavender one first. It’s quite lovely and fits perfectly, and goes surprisingly well with my pale skin and dark hair. As I model it in the mirror, Nicolas’s voice echoes down the hallway.

  “Would you mind coming out to show me how they look?”

  I suddenly feel embarrassed. I’ve never worn anything particularly sexy for him, and these three gowns are decidedly so. Feeling a bit like a dress-up doll, I open the door and shyly step out from the hall.

  “Ah, even better than I imagined. Now, turn around, slowly.”

  If I could blush, I would. I do as he asks, feeling his avid gaze as it travels over me.

  “Hmm. Very nice. Now go try the blue one.”

  Yessir . . .

  This one has an even more revealing bustline. The soft satin glides over my hips, its color the deep cobalt of an evening sky. It goes well with my eyes, which are quite dark today.

  I take a breath and walk out. Nicolas catches his, and I feel a bit of satisfaction in that.

  Smiling, feeling more confident, I seductively drift past him, lingering a little as I pivot around, then walk back. I stop in front of him, head tilted.

  His eyes are faintly glowing red and I slowly smile in return. He tenses. I leave to go back to the dressing room before anything more can happen.

  Wow, guess I better be more careful. I’m still getting used to how easily I can make Mr. Control lose it—it’s probably not too smart to do it in public.

  Taking off the blue dress, I hang it up and slip into the black one. It’s much more refined and elegant, and I feel almost regal in it. The bustline is more modest than the blue one and is trimmed in black rhinestones that give off glimmers of light without standing out. An ebony waterfall of silk cascades to the floor, shimmering as it moves through the air.

  I walk out, more stately this time, and behave myself as I pass Nicolas. The silk floats ahead of me with each step, and ripples in shiny black waves as it trails behind.

  Watching Nicolas as I turn around, he reminds me of the cat that ate the canary. His approving gaze slowly sweeps over me from head to toe. He smiles and nods with satisfaction.

  I smile in return. “You like this one, then?”

  “Yes. I think it will be perfect for tomorrow evening. You will make a magnificent first impression.”

  I nod and go back into the dressing room to change into my street clothes. As I start to zip my jeans, a soft knock on the door stops me.

  “Miss Martin?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have one more dress that Mr. Ambrus thought you might like to try on.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I open the door and the saleswoman hands me another long gown, this one in bright red.

  “Thank you,” I tell her as I take it, frowning.

  Red? Not a color I normally wear—at least in clothing form. Maybe that’s why Nicolas picked it out.

  With a sigh, I strip again and look closer at the dress. Like the black one, this dress is made of shimmery silk. When I slip it over my head, the crimson flows over my hips as though it was truly liquid. A one-shouldered affair, its bold statement is a stark contrast to the quiet dignity of the black dress. The daring design and blood red silk literally scream, “Look at me,” which is certainly not the impression I want to give Nicolas’s guests.

  It’s undeniably stunning, though. I turn sideways and admire the way the fabric drapes over my shoulder to curve across my back. But this dress is too much for me.

  “Miss Martin?”

  I take a deep breath.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Ambrus asked if you’ve tried on the red dress yet. He’d like to see it if you have.”

  Taking another deep breath, I shake my head and open the door.

  “Oh my, Miss Martin!” she exclaims. “That dress is absolutely breathtaking!”

  She steps back as I murmur a thank you and resignedly leave the sanctuary of the dressing room.

  Nicolas is staring out the store window, his hands in his pockets, when I walk into the room. He turns, slowly withdrawing his hands as his eyes flash the color of my dress, and stands for a moment, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

  “Yes” is all he says in a guttural whisper.


  He says nothing more, instead motioning for me to turn around. I do so, slowly, and when I face him the look of raw desire on his face takes my breath away.

  At a loss for words as much as he seems to be, I give him a brief smile and head back to the dressing room, the silk caressing my hips as I walk.

  When I finish changing back into my clothes and open the door, the saleswoman is waiting.

  “I’ll take the black one,” I tell her. It’s much more my style. There’s no way I’m wearing that red one, in spite of how much Nicolas likes it.

  If Chosen society is anything like human society, I’m not willing to risk either unwanted attention from the male guests or jealousy and criticism from the females by wearing something so provocative.

  “Mr. Ambrus has already taken care of it, miss,” she responds as she gathers the dresses and walks out.

  Nicolas stands as I rejoin him.

  “Well, that was fun. Thank you.”

  “I certainly enjoyed it,” he replies, his emerald eyes bright. “But we are not quite done. I believe you will need shoes, yes?”

  “Uh, yes, I do. I don’t have anything suitable for that dress.”

  “There is a shop several doors down. They will hold our purchase here, and we will pick it up on our way back.” He smiles again, amusement flickering in his eyes.

  Now what does he have up his sleeve?

  We walk down to the shoe store, and I quickly find a pair of black Italian strap sandals with a tall heel that should be the right height for the black dress. But as I start to put my shoes back on, Nicolas walks up with a pair of blue ones—and a pair of red ones.

  “Try these on,” he says, smirking.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Did you think we would leave that store without the red dress? Or the blue one? The black one is for you to wear for our guests tomorrow, if you prefer, but the others are for you to wear for me.”

  “Oh.”

  I take the shoes and try them on. Like everything else he’s picked out for me, both pair are just the right shades and fit perfectly.

  “We have one more stop across the street. Shall we?” Nicolas asks as we leave the shoe store. The corner of his mouth twitches as he holds out his arm. Shaking my head, I grasp the inside of his elbow and we step off the curb and cross the road.

  We pass several shops, then he stops at a jewelry store and opens the door. I glance up at him and he smiles that Cheshire cat grin again.

  Nicolas really has fun with these little games.

  He walks up to the counter and talks to the jeweler while I look at the display cases.

  “Sunny?”

  I join him at the counter. On a black velvet display cloth is a necklace with a large blue sapphire as the centerpiece. The stone is round and perches alone in its white gold mounting, which is suspended in a chain of small diamonds.

  I don’t know a lot about fine jewelry, but I suspect this piece may be worth as much as one of Nicolas’s cars.

  “Come, turn around,” Nicolas says, a tad impatiently.

  I dutifully do so, and he lifts the necklace over my head and fastens it. Fortunately, the black sweater I’m wearing has a scoop neckline, and the necklace rests perfectly against my bare skin.

  Nicolas gently turns me around by the shoulders and steps back. He tilts his head and smiles, then hands me a mirror.

  The necklace is stunning, the sapphire clear and cut beautifully. It’s an intense medium blue, and its rich color is a nice contrast to my darker eyes. But I suspect it would complement them no matter what shade they were.

  “I think this will do, yes?” He looks at me in the mirror, eyebrows raised, and I nod.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, staring at the jewel in my reflection. I then look at his reflection, and again see something stirring in the depths of his emerald eyes.

  I feel like a princess who’s met her Prince Charming, though perhaps one a bit more dangerous than the fairy tale version.

  But then, I’m not anything that’s stepped out of a normal fairy tale either.

  I smile at his image and he returns it.

  “Good. I am glad you like it.” He reaches up and brushes the side of my neck with his fingertips, and I catch a flash of red in his eyes as he moves to unfasten the catch on the necklace.

  I’m looking forward to meeting this associate of his, and am relieved she’s female. Hopefully some of her etiquette instructions will include tips on Chosen courtship. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to it than human dating.

  While Nicolas takes care of the bill, I wait by the door. I don’t want to know what the necklace cost, because then I’ll be afraid to wear it. I’m going to have enough trouble with the shoes, which were hundreds of dollars, and the dresses, totaling several thousand. I shake my head in disbelief. Yeah, I’m in a fairy tale, all right . . . one that’s written in blood.

  We get back to the estate just before dark. I’m anxious now to get home, as the hunger is starting to make itself known. I’ve been pleasantly distracted all day, and was only faintly aware of it hovering in the background a few times.

  And I need a break from Nicolas, though the thought of our separation bothers me more than I want to admit. But he’s been especially smothering today, and I feel the need for some space.

  As we get out of the Cobra, Marie comes down the steps and collects the packages. Nicolas tells her to take them up to my room and starts to walk up the steps to the house. I stay next to the car and he turns to look at me in question.

  “Nicolas, I . . . I just want to thank you for a wonderful afternoon, and for the beautiful gifts. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I really must go home for now.”

  His eyes narrow slightly, and he takes a breath. He starts to say something, then doesn’t.

  He walks back down the steps to me and reaches up to caress the side of my face.

  “Please be careful tonight.” He obviously understands why I need to leave.

  “I will.” No more flippant remarks about how I’ve been doing this a while. I can see the thought of me out there wrestling elk worries him greatly, and I don’t want to belittle his fears.

  He kisses my forehead, then steps back and watches me as I walk to my car. His eyes are dark and unfathomable.

  That’s a bit odd. He usually opens my door for me.

  I get in, start my car, and head down the driveway.

  április 14., szombat

  I bared my soul to her today, as I can no longer hide how I feel. I doubt she grasps the depth of my feelings, and I have no way to begin to express them. I think she may feel something for me, but she seems unsure. I hope I have not made a mistake by telling her too soon. To make it worse, I nearly lost control with her. I had her exquisite throat in my teeth and could almost taste her fiery blood running beneath her soft skin. I was so close, but I could feel her fear, and I realized she would not understand.

  I took her shopping this afternoon. She stole my breath away each time she walked out in one of the dresses I had selected for her. The red one, and the sapphire jewel that pales next to the brilliance of her eyes, will be perfect for tomorrow’s Council meeting. They will be completely awed by her, yet baffled, which should disrupt their plotting, at least for the time being.

  To my immense disappointment, she went home to her mountain this evening after our trip, no doubt to hunt. I had hoped to speak with her about tomorrow night.

  And I am greatly unsettled when she is not at my side. I fear for her safety and will be plagued with worry until she returns.

  I am starting to hate the very thing that made me fall in love with her.

  SUNDAY

  CHAPTER 26

  I wake up and look at the clock—10:17, a little early for me. But there’s nothing I can do about it now, so I get up.

  Last night’s hunt was a bit like the previous night. I’d taken the first thing I came across, a small mule deer buck, and hopefully he was enough to hold me for a couple o
f days. I’ll get serious about finding an elk after Nicolas’s party, which I’m really not looking forward to.

  Of course, wearing the black dress and the necklace will make the whole affair a bit more bearable. I smile as I think how impressive the ensemble will look once I have it all on. At least I won’t be embarrassed by something from my own modest wardrobe.

  I don’t know what time to go down there, as Nicolas didn’t say when his “associate” would be available. He didn’t even tell me her name. I wonder about her, and what the other females will be like. And I think about how many Nicolas might have loved in his five hundred years. That’s a bit disturbing, but realistic. He’s extremely passionate. I can’t imagine him being alone for any length of time.

  The cell phone rings. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he can tell when I’m dwelling on him. That phone never fails to ring whenever I am.

  “Hi. I was just thinking about you.”

  “Apparently I was thinking of you as well.” His laughter drifts through the phone.

  Smart ass.

  “What time would you like for me to come down?” I ask.

  “Whenever you are ready. Éva has arrived and is looking forward to meeting you.”

  Éva. Sounds European. I wonder how long he’s known her.

  “Well, I need to gather a few things for tonight’s party first.”

  “Excellent. We shall be waiting. Until then.” Silence.

  It’s funny. Face-to-face, it seems like he’s always talking. But on the phone, it’s short and to the point.

  I set down the cell and go into the bedroom to dress and pack. Since the sun appears to be out at the moment, I slip on a black turtleneck. The mirror catches my attention, and I realize the cornflower blue of my eyes today will go well with the sapphire necklace, better than if they were pale. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t gorge on elk last night.

  With a last look through my closet and toiletries to make sure I have everything, I head outside to the car.

  I pull up in front of the stairway, take a deep breath to calm myself, and, switching off the ignition, get out. As I start to walk toward the steps, Alfonso appears from around the corner.