Watcher: Book I of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  “Katarina and her dog will be quite involved in feeding and will not give me any trouble. And while they are so occupied, my Elders will arrive, and their little game will be over.”

  “Okay.” I reluctantly nod my agreement.

  Nicolas breathes a sigh of relief and crushes me to him. I hug him tightly as well, then with a kiss to my forehead, he says, “I will be back to check on you shortly.” He opens the door to leave.

  The voices of Katarina and a human male reach me as they pass by in the hallway. Fortunately, I don’t recognize the man’s voice, but sadness descends over me when I realize I’ll likely never hear it again.

  Nicolas glances back at me and shakes his head, then closes the door.

  It’s been about half an hour and I wonder if the Elders are here yet. I check the other door, the one leading to the parking lot. But when I peer down the short hallway, my eyes zero in on the keypad next to the outer door.

  Without the code, I can’t even look outside, let alone leave. I return to my pacing.

  Concern for Nicolas writhes in my belly like a coiling snake. I hope Katarina and Lars didn’t get a couple of feedings in them and decide to go after him. They’d be strong and high from the blood, and between the two of them, they might cause Nicolas some problems.

  I don’t like this. He should’ve been back to check on me by now. He said he would.

  The hunter whines about her mate. The beast joins her, its growls rumbling in my chest.

  I’ve waited long enough.

  Hell, I hope I haven’t waited too long.

  Opening the door to the hallway, I peek out and taste the air in both directions. I don’t hear or see anything, and that could be good—or very, very bad.

  I let the door close and grab a stapler from the top of the desk, then step into the hall and wedge the stapler against the jamb, leaving the door cracked open. Just in case we need to get somewhere safe in a hurry.

  Not sure which way to go—the door to the lounge is locked, like everything else in this Fort Knox of a club. Frowning, I head down the hall toward the main club and open the heavy door.

  The smell of human blood hits me like a jackhammer.

  The beast and the hunger roar, and I take a breath and try to regain some measure of control. Grabbing a case of beer, I prop the door open with it and go in.

  The music is blaring, and as I wind my way through the boxes to the black curtain, the smell gets stronger. I clench my jaw and open the curtain. Lying on the other side of it is the bouncer. Despite his size, he would have had no chance against Lars. His throat is torn out, but very little blood is dripping from the gaping wound.

  Staring at the far wall, I brace myself against the overpowering smell and sight of the blood, then leap over the body. When I walk out to the bar, the bartender is lying behind it in a crumpled heap. My jaw tightens in response to the smell of his blood, and the beast in me threatens to break loose.

  I quickly retrace my steps and kick the beer out of the way, and the door clicks shut behind me. Leaning against the wall, I shove the beast down and try to regroup. I can still smell and taste the airborne blood particles from that room, but at least I’m not confronted with the liquid form, or what was left of it.

  As I manage to restore some sense of calm, a loud boom echoes down the hallway. I shove off the wall and race down the hall to the lounge door and yank on it, but it won’t open. Another loud crash from inside the lounge sends both the hunter and the beast into a frenzy.

  Nicolas!

  Just as I’m about to try to punch through the door, it vibrates with a loud thud. I leap to the side as it bursts open and Lars’s body hurtles through the air and slams against the hallway wall.

  I look inside the room to see Nicolas standing, disheveled, apparently having just thrown Lars for the second time today. Katarina is crouched off to one side, her blouse torn and her hair in disarray. She looks ready to spring at Nicolas.

  But before she can launch herself, I am on her.

  I grab that red hair and yank her head around, trying to slam her body onto the floor like she’s a deer. But she manages to latch onto me, and we both go down.

  She’s strong, and suddenly I’m hanging onto her hair for dear life, fighting to keep her bared fangs out of my throat. Her crimson eyes blaze with hatred as she snaps at my face.

  But then her head is jerked backward, and I let go as Nicolas pulls her off of me.

  He has her firmly by the hair and has one of her arms pinned behind her back. He shoves her facedown onto the floor, puts one foot on her back, and grabs her head with both hands.

  “Nicolas!” I scream. “Stop! Please, stop!” Frantic, I leap to my feet and wave my arms.

  He hesitates, then slowly releases her head. He turns and looks at me, the gratitude in his eyes warring with his anger.

  The door leading to the hallway with the private rooms opens and Robert walks in.

  “Holy shit,” he says as he comes into the room, closely trailed by Alina. They’re both staring at Nicolas, who still has his foot on Katarina’s back and once again has a fistful of her hair.

  I’m betting that right about now she’s wishing she wore it short.

  “Nicolas, are you sure you want to do that?” Alina’s calm voice penetrates the deathly silence that has descended over the room.

  Nicolas snarls and gestures around the lounge. As the others scan the room, so do I.

  At the same time, I become aware of the overwhelming scent of blood. The draperies and walls are splashed with it, like some grotesque abstract painting, and the floors are smeared and sticky. Broken and twisted bodies are scattered about what is now a chamber of horrors.

  There is no chance to feel revulsion, as I am instantly fighting to rein in the beast and the hunger that are once again raging inside me.

  Nicolas looks at me, and his eyes redden as I look at him through a pink haze.

  “Ah. Sunny. Please. Do you need to go outside?” He still has hold of Katarina, and guilt flickers through me for distracting him.

  “No,” I say hoarsely. “I’ll be okay.” I hold my breath and focus on him and try to block out the hunger.

  “Good.”

  He glares down at Katarina, and his face is grim as he steps off her back. Still gripping her hair, he pulls her up while she struggles to her feet.

  Nicolas looks over at Robert and Alina.

  “There are several more bodies in the private rooms. And while I was discussing Katarina’s excesses with her, her dog slipped up front and killed my bouncer and my bartender, who were expressly off-limits.” His voice is deep with hatred and rage as he again focuses on Katarina.

  “But the most unforgivable act was attacking me as I came back into this room. You tell Gilles he had better hope I do not come hunt him down. I am tired of his games—and yours.” Nicolas pauses as he leans in, bringing his face closer to hers. She hisses.

  “I promise you, Katarina, the next time I lay eyes on you, I will kill you. The truce is the only reason you are still alive.”

  He straightens and gives her a deadly smile. “However, for what it is worth, attempted assassination voids the truce, so I am well within my rights to end your miserable existence.” He smiles again and tips his head. “But I have a better idea.”

  She glares at him, but for once keeps silent.

  I hear a groan out in the hall and glance in that direction before looking back at Nicolas.

  He shakes his head and says, “His neck is broken and I suspect his back is as well. He won’t be giving anyone trouble for a little while.

  “Robert, Alina.” Nicolas indicates the hallway with his chin. “Grab that piece of garbage and bring him back to the lockup. These two can wait in there until Lorenzo and Éva arrive.”

  Katarina’s eyes grow wide at the mention of Éva’s name, and Nicolas smiles.

  “Ah yes. Someone who despises you even more than I do. She will be your escort home. It should be an interesting fl
ight.” His laughter has a cruel sound to it. “Sunny, come with me.”

  I follow him as he forces Katarina down the hallway, glad to escape the bloody room and take a breath of somewhat clear air. Nicolas stops at the last private room, the one closest to the outside door.

  He opens the door, and I notice it’s several times thicker than a normal door and is lined with steel. The walls inside are also lined in thick plate steel. Heavy-duty rings, chains, and manacles are mounted at various heights on three of the walls.

  Nicolas walks Katarina over to a corner with several odd-looking garments hanging from hooks. Her eyes grow wide, and she growls and tries to twist out of his grasp.

  He laughs and wrenches her arm up behind her back.

  “Do you want it broken? I will even break the other one so you have a matching set.”

  She stops struggling, but her eyes are blazing red and furious.

  “Sunny, grab one of those jackets and hold it up.”

  It’s heavier than it looks. It appears to be a type of straitjacket, lined with a thick, hard, plastic-like material, maybe Kevlar, and reinforced with steel bands.

  I hold it open as Nicolas jams her free arm into one sleeve, then pulls it behind her and thrusts the other one into the remaining sleeve. He motions with his chin, and I grab the chain hanging from the end of the sleeve and hand it to him. He yanks it around her waist, then moves the arm he’s holding so I can grab its chain and hand it back around to him in the opposite direction. Nicolas pulls both chains tight, forcing Katarina to hug herself, and shoves her up against the wall. He quickly tightens all the fastenings up the back of the jacket just as Robert and Alina carry Lars in.

  Spinning Katarina back around, he asks, “Now, are you going to behave yourself or do I have to hang you from a hook until the others get here?”

  “You will pay for this, Nicolao,” she snarls, hatred pouring from her voice.

  “Oh, I already have. You tormented and slaughtered everyone in my club, including my bartender and my bouncer, both of whom had been with me for a long time. You are despicable animals, and I question why I am even leaving you alive.

  “But I do have a reason. I will be sending a message to Gilles explaining how fortunate he is that I am sending your head back to him with your body still attached. And I will include a little note about you and your special relationship with your dog.” Nicolas smiles as a look of fear crosses Katarina’s face.

  “I thought so. I am not quite sure how you have been hiding it, or why you thought you could get away with flaunting it here. But I am sure Gilles will be thrilled to know he shares blood with someone who also shares with an underling. Double-bonding is still frowned upon in Europe, is it not?”

  “Nicolao, no . . . he will kill me.” Her terrified whisper indicates this is no exaggeration.

  “That, Katarina, is exactly my point.”

  He turns to me and places his arm around my waist and, with a last look at Katarina, walks us out of the room.

  We head back to the lounge, and I pause to take a breath before we go in. Nicolas looks at me questioningly. I nod that I’m okay and we enter the room. The raw, coppery smell of human blood permeates the air, and my throat tightens as both the beast and the hunger grab hold.

  Nicolas frowns. “Are you going to be able to handle this? Or would you prefer to wait in the office?”

  I grit my teeth. “I’ll be okay.”

  “All right. But you can leave anytime you need to.”

  I nod again in response.

  He walks farther into the room, grimacing as he surveys the human wreckage.

  “What a waste,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes narrowing, he looks over at me.

  “What were you thinking, attacking an Elder as powerful as Katarina? She could have easily killed you. You know less about fighting Chosen than you do fighting bear. Do you not have any common sense?” Frustration is thick in his voice, but no real anger.

  “She . . . was getting ready to attack you.”

  “And I was waiting for it.”

  “Oh.”

  He reaches over and smoothes my hair.

  “Come here.” He pulls me close and holds me tight. He nuzzles my ear and whispers, “I love you.”

  And I wonder for how long as Katarina’s words about all the women he’s loved echo in my head.

  Nicolas pushes himself away from me and looks searchingly into my eyes.

  “Why I am feeling doubt from you? Do you still question me? What do I have to do to prove myself to you?” His voice is pained and the hurt in his eyes is unbearable.

  “She said . . .” I can’t finish, as the possibility that it was true is crushing me.

  “And you believed her?” he whispers, incredulous. “This cannot go on. We need to resolve this, but unfortunately, we have other matters to deal with right now.”

  He touches my jaw and, shaking his head, walks away.

  No, don’t walk away. I believe you. I need you.

  The hunger surges with my torn emotions. I try to slam it down as Nicolas’s back stiffens.

  “Perhaps you should wait in the office,” he says without looking at me, his tone cold.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” I suddenly can’t bear to leave him, especially now. Not with this . . . this thing—whatever it is—between us.

  He walks to the nearest body and, bending down, rolls it over. Shaking his head again, he walks to the next and looks at it, and to the next, and to the next. He curses as he approaches the last one, and out of morbid curiosity, I go over to where he is standing.

  The arms and legs are contorted, bending where they should not, and the back is obviously broken. I can’t see the face because the neck is bent at an odd angle. Fang scars line one arm, and about that time I recognize the scent of what’s left of his blood.

  It’s Skeeter, or was, and I look up in horror at Nicolas. He glances at me and nods, and I turn away and hug myself. Poor pathetic boy. Whatever he was missing in this life, I hope he found it on the other side.

  I look around the room, feeling sorrow for the rest of them. Then I realize all the victims are male.

  “You sent the women home.” I look up at Nicolas in gratitude, my love for him resurfacing from beneath the doubts.

  He closes his eyes and the tension visibly drains from his body. He walks over to me and gently takes my face in his hands.

  “I am not the brute you seem to think I am. I do what I have to do to survive, but I am not cruel, and killing is something I try to avoid. And yes, I sent the women home to protect them.”

  “I love you, Nicolas,” I whisper, silently weeping.

  “I know.” And he takes me in his arms and holds me while I cry the cry with no tears.

  CHAPTER 47

  Éva walks into the bloody lounge, and the expression on her face as she assesses the carnage is murderous. She stands a moment watching Robert and Lorenzo stack the bodies near the rear door, then looks at Nicolas.

  “You are all right?” Concern creases her elegant features.

  He gives her a feral smile. She matches it with one of her own, and I am once again reminded of their shared history.

  “Are they in the holding room?” she asks.

  Nicolas nods, and with a glance at me to follow him, we go back to the room where Katarina and Lars are being held.

  Nicolas opens the door and Katarina is sitting in the corner next to the curled-up form of Lars. She sees Éva and slowly gets to her feet, her face wearing a look of sheer hatred.

  Éva lets out a soft laugh, but the animosity in her eyes is even stronger than that of the red-haired Chosen. She saunters across the room to Katarina.

  Golden eyes stare into copper, then both flare into violent red. With no warning, Éva’s hand whips out, and she rakes Katarina across the face with her nails fully extended.

  Katarina reels back in shock. Four deep, bloody gashes trail across her cheek.

  Éva growls. “I normally would not a
ssault someone who is helpless, but you . . .” She opens her mouth and bares her fangs. “If your blood was not so foul, I would drain you right here, then take great pleasure in separating your worthless head from your pathetic body. Very slowly. And I hear your bonded favors jars. What a lovely fate, one you would rightly deserve.”

  Katarina snarls. “Oh, but you and I have much in common, dear—”

  Éva slashes Katarina across the other cheek.

  “You and I have nothing in common, and never did. He never loved you,” Éva spats.

  Nicolas becomes very still and I freeze, trying to keep my face expressionless.

  Éva walks over to a cupboard and opens it. After rummaging around, she pulls out a ball gag and walks back over to Katarina.

  “I do not wish to be subjected to the venom that spills non-stop from your mouth.” She shoves the ball between Katarina’s bloody teeth as Katarina snarls and tries to twist away.

  “Double-bonding? Are you serious? With Gilles and that?” Éva points to the blond Chosen, who is growling at her but otherwise making no movement. “I look forward to seeing Gilles’s reaction as I pass that little tidbit along. You best say your goodbyes to loverboy while you can.”

  She laughs and walks back over to the door where Nicolas and I stand.

  “Johan and Alina should be back with the van by now. Once they have finished loading it, you and the others can take the limo back to the airport,” Nicolas says.

  Éva reaches out to touch Nicolas’s cheek, but glances at me and her hand drifts down to her side. Regret flickers in her eyes, and I wonder again what happened between these two. She steps past Nicolas and we follow her out into the hallway, closing the heavy steel door behind us. He takes the lead and we go back into the lounge.

  “You are sure you are all right? I was worried sick the whole way here.” She glances at me again, then looks back at Nicolas.

  “Éva, you know I can—” Nicolas begins, but she cuts him off.

  “And if they had taken her? If they were holding her hostage?” Éva shakes her head.

  Nicolas tenses and a low rumble vibrates in his chest.

  “You are more vulnerable in a way you haven’t been in a long time. You need to keep that in mind. The next assassins may not be so arrogant or so stupid.” She turns to me.