Aiden's Story (A Watcher Novel)

by S. J. West

  “Kill him!” I shouted. “Kill him, Michael!”

  Lucifer began to laugh.

  “You should listen to him,” Lucifer said to Michael. “If you don’t kill me now, this war will continue. I will never stop. I will never surrender, and one day, when you have your back turned, I will kill you without a second thought, Michael. End me now and become a hero, or prove to everyone watching what a coward you truly are.”

  Unexpectedly, God phased into the arena beside Michael.

  “Lower your sword, my son,” God told him.

  “But he won’t stop father,” Michael said, his sword on the verge of ending Lucifer once and for all. “You know he won’t.”

  God sighed as though His last hope for Lucifer had just been extinguished.

  “I realize that,” God said in resignation. “And I will deal with it. Lucifer’s disobedience is not something you should have to pay for. You are the winner of this fight, and if you concede the right to determine Lucifer’s future to me, I will pass judgment on him and save you from having to darken your soul with his death. You have done everything within your power to save him from himself. Allow me to take the burden of his fate from your shoulders, my son. I will do what needs to be done.”

  Michael withdrew his sword from Lucifer.

  “Now you decide to interfere?” Lucifer smirked as he stood to his feet in front of God.

  “The war has been won by Michael today, Lucifer. I am simply saving him from having to kill someone he loves. By his ability to defeat you, I now have the right to pass judgment on you and those who followed you, and every angel left in Heaven will bear witness to your fate.”

  We all instantly found ourselves in the Hall of Angels.

  I’m sure your father or Malcolm has told you the story about Lucifer’s fall from grace that day. It’s not a tale I wish to write down because it has no value to me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you exactly what was said because I wasn’t paying attention. My pain and hatred of Lucifer and the other rebellion angels consumed me. I felt joy as I witnessed Lucifer and all his followers being struck down by God’s judgment. Personally, I thought it should have been harsher, but I knew my anger against them was fueling that opinion.

  After Michael took Lucifer to Earth, I left. I saw what I needed to see and didn’t have any desire to stick around and talk with my fellow angels about what just happened. I wanted to be alone with my pain. So, I phased home. I quickly discovered it was the wrong place for me to go.

  Andel’s private sanctuary now felt like a tomb. I instantly felt not only his physical absence, but also the absence of his soul from Heaven. Chayyliel had been right. I thought of Andel like a father. My soul grieved for his loss, and my body felt weak from the pain. I fell to my knees and wept because I knew I would never see, talk, or laugh with him again. He was gone forever, and it was all Lucifer’s fault. My hatred for him grew, and I knew there was only one way to satisfy its demand for vengeance.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I have to put my pencil down and stop writing in my journal. It’s been years since I allowed myself to think about Andel. His loss was my first experience with the death of someone I loved. It propelled my future in ways I wasn’t ready to write about just yet.

  I stand from my desk to walk out of the office and into the living room. I’m surprised to discover that it’s already nighttime in Istanbul. The Blue Mosque is set alight with spotlights, rendering it a beacon through the dark night. I look over my shoulder at the clock on the wall and see it’s already 8:00pm. With my arms crossed over my chest, I stand in front of the sliding glass doors leading out to the terrace. I’m not sure how long I stand there, but eventually, tears blur the lights of the city as I allow myself the luxury of feeling the loss of Andel all over again. I didn’t fully allow myself to grieve his death while I was in Heaven. After my initial breakdown, I picked myself back up and focused all of my time and energy on seeking my revenge.

  The loss of Andel made me want to shield myself from ever feeling that sort of pain again. After his death, I was determined to close myself off from others, but sometimes the plans we make for ourselves don’t always work out the way we think they will. Life can take you in directions you never dreamt of going and force you to face certain truths about yourself even when you don’t want to. Having hidden my feelings away for so long made the remembrance of Andel even that much harder. The same pain and grief I felt when I allowed myself to mourn his loss overcame me once again.

  I stand there silently, allowing my heart to unburden itself of its pent up grief.

  Unexpectedly, I feel a gentle hand cup the right side of my face.

  I instantly open my eyes and see Caylin standing in front of me. She shouldn’t have been able to phase to my apartment in Istanbul. It’s a place she’s never been to before.

  The confusion of her presence must have been written on my face because she says, “I felt your pain. I had to come to you.”

  Of course. The connection between soulmates can allow such a thing to happen if God allows. Mason told me that was how he found Jess the first time. I suddenly realize I don’t care what miracle brought her to me. I’m just grateful that she’s here. I take her in my arms and hold her tightly to me. As she rests her head against my chest, I lay my cheek on top of her head and breathe in the clean scent of her hair. It smells like the sweetest of strawberries because of the shampoo she uses. Her presence helps push back the sorrow I feel. Caylin is my own beacon of light through the darkness and a reminder to me that I’ve been gifted a future I never thought I would be allowed to have.

  We silently hold one another until the pain I feel from remembering Andel’s death subsides. I know it will never completely go away. We can never forget those we have loved and lost. They stay alive through our memories of them, and what we tell others about them.

  When I loosen my hold of her, Caylin lifts her head and looks up at me.

  “What happened?” She asks, her voice filled with concern. “What made you so sad?”

  I take in a deep breath.

  “Do you have time to stay for a little while?” I ask. “There’s someone from my past I would like to tell you about.”

  “Of course I have time,” Caylin replies with a small, understanding smile. “I always have time for you.”

  I take one of her hands with mine and walk her over to the couch in the living room. I sit her on my lap and tell her all about Andel and my time in Heaven. She listens intently to my story and only asks a few questions for clarification. Telling Caylin about my time in Heaven lifts my spirits somewhat and makes me fully realize the gift Andel gave me. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to feel the way I do about Caylin. He once told me that I had the potential to love very deeply, and he was right, as usual. I love Caylin more than I have ever loved anyone in my life, and I know I will love our children just as fiercely.

  I’ve finally reached a point in my life where caring for others comes more naturally. Caylin was so easy for me to love. Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would have been drawn to her natural effervescence and strength. Although I’m much older, Caylin’s ability to see certain truths constantly amazes me. The source of her wisdom seems well beyond her limited years.

  “What were you doing when you felt me?” I ask her.

  “Heating up a can of chicken noodle soup,” she says, almost like it’s a confession.

  I just smile.

  “Has my absence made you resort to cooking for yourself?” I tease.

  Caylin just rolls her eyes at me. “I’m perfectly capable to heating up a can of soup on my own, thank you very much. I can be self-sufficient you know.”

  “I know,” I assure her. “And it isn’t your fault you got handed down a family curse.”

  “Not being able to cook is not a curse,” she professes. “It just means that we Cole women need to be choosy about the men we marry.”

  “Well, thank goodness your father was willing
to teach me how to cook,” I say. “Otherwise, our children would have been forced to live off of your ability to heat things up in the microwave.”

  “I like it when you do that,” Caylin says, smiling brightly at me.

  “Do what exactly, beautiful?” I murmur.

  “I like it when you talk about our children,” she answers. “It makes our future seem so real.”

  “It is real,” I tell her, leaning in to kiss her lips. “It’s very real.”

  I lean further in to deepen the kiss but stop when I hear the grumbling of her belly.

  “Someone is obviously hungry,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose before sitting back.

  Caylin shrugs. “Like I said, I was making myself some lunch. It was only a little after twelve my time when I felt you.”

  “Well, I haven’t eaten since my bachelor party,” I realize. “Let me take you out to eat while you’re here. There’s a restaurant built along the Bosphorus that I think you’ll like.”

  We stand from the couch, and I phase us directly to a restaurant named Rumelihisari Iskele. The interior is quaint and cozy. It’s one of the best restaurants in Istanbul but not one with a strict dress code. The patrons are dressed casually even though the wait staff is required to wear white suits and black bow ties. The tables are all draped with low hanging, white tablecloths, and simply appointed with bone china and glassware.

  “Mr. Keles!” A familiar voice calls out.

  I turn to see the host of the restaurant walk over to greet us.

  “Hello, Ilkin,” I say, shaking the man’s offered hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “It’s been years since you graced us with your presence,” Ilkin says. “We heard you were transferred to the States.”

  “Yes, it’s my home now.”

  Ilkin looks at Caylin and automatically smiles. Most people greet you with a smile out of politeness, but from the way Ilkin’s eyes light up when he sees Caylin, I know it’s simply her that makes him smile so brightly.

  “Ilkin, I would like to introduce you to my fiancé, Caylin Cole.”

  “Fiancé?” Ilkin asks in surprise. “Well, this is certainly an unexpected pleasure and honor. Please, you must allow the restaurant to pay for your meal this evening in celebration of such a blessed event. When is the wedding, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “In six days,” I tell him.

  Ilkin waves over one of the male servers and tells him, “Make sure Mr. Keles and his lovely fiancé get whatever they want this evening.”

  The server bows his head to Ilkin and says to us, “Please, follow me. I have a table by the window that is free.”

  “It was good to see you again, Ilkin,” I say, shaking the other man’s hand before we leave his side.

  “Always a pleasure, Mr. Keles. And I wish you both a very happy life with one another.”

  “It will be,” Caylin tells him, taking my arm, and smiling up at me.

  I don’t know how she does it, but every time she smiles, it lights up any room she’s in.

  After we sit down, Caylin tells me I should order my favorite dishes for her to try. In the past two years, it’s been very important for her to learn everything she can about me. She knows my favorite color, music, books, and plays, almost everything. I only wish I had been brave enough to tell her about some of the more sordid details of my past before now, but, with my father’s encouragement, I know now is the time for me to completely bare my soul to her. I plan to give her the journal the day before our wedding rehearsal. I didn’t want to blind side her with it the night before the wedding. She would need time to read its contents and absorb the story of my life. If she decides it’s too much for her, I want to make sure she has plenty of time to back out of the marriage. I owe her that consideration. I just hope she doesn’t choose that particular option.

  I order us a cold meze, which is a small selection of appetizer dishes traditionally served to start a meal in Turkey. It is composed of a Turkish white cheese, melon, yogurt with cucumber and garlic, and stuffed bell peppers. I order myself some warm Raki, which is an unsweetened anise-flavored alcoholic beverage, to drink. Caylin was never one to drink much alcohol. Therefore, she ordered herself some hot tea instead.

  “You look worried,” Caylin says to me as she cuts up a ripe slice of cantaloupe on her plate. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” I try to reassure her. Unfortunately, lying to Caylin never works.

  She narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t push the issue. I have definitely been busted on my lie, but she isn’t going to call me out on it. Still, I feel a sense of guilt just from the look she’s giving me.

  “It’ll all be explained in my journal,” I begrudgingly say.

  Caylin doesn’t say anything else as she pops a piece of melon in her mouth and begins to chew.

  While we eat what’s known as the hot starter of the meal, which is shrimp sautéed in butter, I notice Caylin keeps looking at something behind me. Curious to know what is repeatedly drawing her attention, I turn my head to see what’s there. Involuntarily, I tighten my grip on the fork in my hand and bend it slightly.

  Sitting a couple of tables away from us was someone I hadn’t seen since the evening I received Caylin’s first phone call to me.

  When I turn my head back around to face Caylin, I know my Freudian slip hasn’t gone unnoticed by her.

  “Who is she to you?” Caylin asks of the woman sitting behind us. “She keeps looking over here, and by your reaction to seeing her, it’s obvious you know her.”

  “Her name is Nadiye Dal. She was a Watcher Agent while I was head of the headquarters here.”

  Caylin glances back at Nadiye before returning her attention to me.

  “Were you close? Friends?”

  “Of a sort,” I answer, not wanting to go into any detail about my relationship with Nadiye.

  “Is she someone you’ll write about in your journal?”

  I think about that question for a moment and know I will have to include my time with Nadiye in the story of my life.

  “Yes, she’ll be mentioned,” I say.

  Caylin looks back at Nadiye and nods her head.

  “Ok. Well, at least I’ll have a face for her when I get to that part.”

  I place my right hand in the middle of the table palm up. Caylin rests her hand inside it without hesitation. I wrap my fingers around her hand and feel the cold hardness of the diamond ring I gave her when I proposed.

  “I love you,” I say, hoping she understands just how true those words are.

  “And I love you,” she replies. “Nothing will ever change that, Aiden. Nothing.”

  It’s then I know Caylin understands why I looked so worried earlier. I should have known she would figure out my greatest fear without me even having to say it aloud to her.

  She smiles at me and apparently decides a change of subject is in order.

  “I have to tell you what my Aunt Tara did this morning,” she says. “That woman has gone wedding crazy.”

  I let Caylin pull me back into her world of school and wedding plans for a while. To me, Caylin’s family has always exemplified what a loving, close-knit family should be like. The love and respect they show one another is how I hope our family will be one day. I’ve noticed that Caylin is a little closer to her mother than her father, but there is only a hair’s breadth of a difference. I suppose there are some subjects that are easier to discuss with another female. Caylin told me about the time Brand tried to have ‘the talk’ with her. I found it amusing but also heartwarming that he would even make such a well-intentioned attempt. It told me a lot about Brand that he even tried. I’m not sure I’ll be able to rally enough nerves to talk to my own daughter one day about the birds and the bees.

  Just before Caylin and I begin to eat our desserts, her eyes are drawn over my shoulder once again.

  “Your friend is coming over here,” she warns me.

  I set my fork down and patiently wait f
or Nadiye to come to our table.

  “Hello, Aiden,” I hear Nadiye say in her smoky voice, one of the many things that attracted me to her in the beginning.

  She stands beside our table dressed simply in a red sweater and black pants. Her long silky black hair is parted in the middle, and she’s wearing almost no make-up. Nadiye looks from me to Caylin expectantly.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Nadiye,” I say, standing up to greet her properly. “Caylin, this is Nadiye Dal. Nadiye, I would like to introduce you to my fiancé, Caylin Cole.”

  Caylin holds her hand out to Nadiye. Nadiye only hesitates for a moment before she shakes it.

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” Caylin tells her. “Would you care to sit with us for a moment? Your companion is welcome to come over too if he would like.”

  I see Caylin look back to the other end of the restaurant where Nadiye was originally sitting. I turn my head to see the man she was dining with handling the payment for their meal.

  “Oh, no,” Nadiye says to Caylin. “I just wanted to say hello. I haven’t seen Aiden in a very long time, and I think my husband is anxious to get back home to our little girl.”

  “I didn’t know you married,” I tell Nadiye, feeling a sense of relief that I didn’t screw her life up like I did other women I’d had affairs with.

  “We’ve been married for two years now,” she tells us. “Congratulations on your own wedding. When is it?”

  “In six days,” Caylin and I say in unison, which makes us both smile. Counting down time to certain events in our life together has always been one of our things.

  “Well, I wish you a beautiful life together,” Nadiye says with genuine affection. “And I’m so happy you finally found someone to love, Aiden. I truly mean that.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her, knowing her wish is sincere.

  “I should be going. I wouldn’t want your baklava to get cold. Perhaps we’ll see each other again one day.”

  “Anything is possible,” I reply, not really knowing what to say in the situation without sounding overly eager or completely complacent about such a chance meeting taking place again.