Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  “Yeah, I gotta go back and set up, anyhow. I just wanted to make sure ya’ll got in okay. I’ve got a tab at the bar, so help yourselves.” Birdie turned on his heel and fled toward the stage, his dark spiky hair blending into the darkness before he reappeared under the stage lights.

  “Well, that was really smooth,” I said to Haylee, irritation creeping into my voice.

  “Hey, I call it like I see it. I’ve been tryin’ to tell you for ages,” she retorted.

  “Birdie is my friend, Haylee. That’s all.”

  “When you gonna admit there’s more going on there than meets the eye? Come on, girl!” replied Haylee, exasperated.

  “Okay, you two, cut it out,” interjected Amanda. “If I didn’t want a drink before, I definitely want a drink now.” Amanda stood between me and Haylee, defusing the tension in the air. Linking arms with us, she dragged us toward the bar.

  With drinks in hand, we settled for a table four rows back from the dance floor. I took a sip of my beer and set it down on a paper napkin.

  “So, who thinks Andre is a babe?” asked Haylee, innocently enough. Andre was the drummer in Birdie’s band. The three of us all raised our hands, then burst out laughing.

  “Well, I guess that makes it official then,” I said.

  We laughed again, then started giggling.

  “Oh yeah, he’s all kinds of fine. I’d do him,” Haylee said quickly, then blushed.

  Not many things made Haylee blush.

  “I do believe Miss Haylee Jane has a crush on a young fella.” I put on my best southern twang.

  “Cut it out.” Haylee crossed her arms and frowned.

  “Oooh, whatcha gonna do, Miss Haylee Jane?” I teased. I went to tickle her arm and she slapped my hand away. “Come on, Haylee, if you can dish it out, you can take it.”

  “Well, I ain’t got such a great track record, do I?”

  She was right. Haylee’s ability to pick out decent boyfriends was pretty nonexistent, but Andre didn’t seem to fit her usual boyfriend profile. With latte skin and dreads like Haylee’s, he was hot. He held down a job painting houses, had his own car, and had no crazy ex-girlfriends, from all accounts. Haylee could have done a lot worse if left to her own devices.

  “I’m sure Andre would be interested if you gave him a subtle hint. Smiling at the boy when he says hello would be a start,” suggested Amanda.

  “Ya’ll don’t know that,” Haylee replied. She looked down at the table and twiddled the straw in her drink. Pieces of ice tinkled around in her glass with each agitated stir.

  I sighed. “Listen up, Haylee Jane. You deserve a good one for once. It’s about time karma threw some luck your way, don’t you think?” I patted the back of her arm, and this time she didn’t slap my hand away.

  “I don’t know, Poe.” She hesitated. “Maybe some of us are just born with bad juju.”

  “Don’t give me that bullcrap. After all you’ve been through, it’s your time for something good. Believe in yourself. It’ll happen.” I squeezed her arm gently but firmly. Her skin was warm and smooth under my hand. “Plus, would you let me get away with that kind of talk? I don’t think so.”

  “Uh, I hate to break up your Steel Magnolias moment, but said boy is walking this way,” uttered Amanda under her breath. She kicked us both under the table so we got the point.

  It would’ve had the same effect if Amanda had told Haylee that she’d just seen a zombie horde. I made eye contact first and gave Andre a brief wave.

  “What you doin’?” Haylee hissed, trying not to turn her head.

  “I’m greeting him, one human to another. Seriously, what do you think I’m doing?” I asked through a strained smile. That was the end of any talk as Andre dragged over a chair and plopped down between me and Haylee.

  “Hey, ladies.” He glanced briefly at Amanda and Haylee before fixing his gaze on me. “Hey, Poe, how’s it hanging? You look nice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a skirt before.” I cringed as he looked me up and down. I’d seen that look before. It wasn’t a good look, especially if your best girlfriend was hoping he’d give her that look instead.

  “Yeah, well, you know, it’s just an old jean skirt,” I muttered, trying to figure out what to say next. “Haylee’s got a nice little number on, don’t you think?”

  Haylee would’ve hit me right then and there if Andre hadn’t blocked her direct line of attack, but it wouldn’t have mattered. My comment seemed to fall on impervious male ears. He didn’t even turn around to look at her. I was going to be in some serious trouble if something didn’t give soon. Luckily, Haylee wasn’t the only one who noticed Andre’s attentions.

  “Hey, what are you doin’, man?” shouted Birdie from halfway across the dance floor. He looked irritated, to say the least, and he picked up his pace, striding quickly over to our table.

  “What do you mean, what am I doing?” asked Andre. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as he waited for a reaction from Birdie.

  Poor Birdie. He squirmed around like a worm on a hook.

  “Well, we’re not done setting up, and the doors open in thirty minutes,” mumbled Birdie, who then got ahold of himself and straightened up. “Hell, we’ll be lucky if we get fifteen minutes to do a sound check, dude.”

  It was Andre’s turn to be defensive.

  “I was just saying hi to the ladies, man. Just chill.” Andre rose out of his chair. He made a point of glancing my way one more time. “Good to see you again, Poe.” He nodded at Haylee and Amanda before bending forward into an exaggerated bow, which made Amanda giggle. A minute later he was gone, back up on the stage.

  I let out a whoosh of air and waited for an outburst from Haylee, but only Amanda laughed; Haylee was eerily silent and stared straight ahead, a stoniness set in her features.

  “Haylee, I’m sorry. I’m really–”

  She put her hand up.

  “Don’t,” she said with a deadly calmness.

  “It’s not like that.” I tried to grab her hand.

  “Don’t!” she barked at me again, ripping her hand out of mine.

  “I have no interest in Andre, Haylee. I swear to god. You know I don’t.”

  “You can have just about any boy on this planet, it seems, Poe. I only like the one. Why can’t I have just the one? Why do you get to have them all?” she asked, the pain in her voice hitting my chest like a sledgehammer.

  “Haylee, it’s not her fault, okay?” Amanda, always the mediator.

  “I never said it was,” Haylee replied as she got up and walked to the bar, leaving me and Amanda looking after her.

  New tears threatened to ruin what was left of my eyeliner.

  Amanda patted my hand this time. “It’s fine, Poe. She’s not mad at you, she’s mad at herself. Just give her some time.” Amanda looked behind my shoulder toward the bar. Something passed over her face that was hard to decipher.

  “I’ll check on her if you want me to,” she said quickly.

  “Sure. Thanks, Amanda.”

  “No problem, that’s what friends are for.”

  And with that, she got up and vanished behind me.

  ***

  The Robotic Overlords’ show promptly started at ten, and I was miserable for the first half hour of it. My misery had everything to do with Haylee and nothing to do with the actual band, because in fact, the Robotic Overlords were something of a local sensation.

  The dance floor was jam-packed full of people jostling for position. The crowd, a mixture dominated by girls as usual, elbowed and stomped their way to the front of the stage all the while ogling Birdie. Of course Birdie loved it, and for the next two hours, he was a rock god as he slammed away on his battered guitar, alternating between playing chords and singing into the mic. He was hyped up, and so was the crowd. At one point, Birdie stopped singing, and his fans filled in with their own chorus, singing back his very own words to him as he smiled down at them.

  A han
d grabbed my shoulder, sending an electric current jolting down my arm.

  I jumped.

  Adam stood in front of me. He bent down to cup my ear. His hand barely brushed the bottom of my earlobe, but it was enough to send the buzzing all the way to my knees. I held my breath for a second, no more.

  “Can I join you?” he asked into my ear. He straightened back up to watch my face.

  Shocked as I was, I just nodded.

  He took the chair closest to me and sat down silently.

  I glanced at him for a moment before turning back to the stage. He reminded me of the man who’d been in Paddy’s a couple of days before, yet somehow he seemed different. His skin was still as pale but he seemed to shine, almost like some sort of grime had been washed away. His dress taste had also improved. He still wore dark jeans that clung to his long legs; however, he appeared to be wearing a tailored black shirt with extra-long cuffs that emphasized his thinness, as did his black leather shoes. As before, his hair was perfectly, stylishly untidy.

  We didn’t talk during the first part of Birdie’s set. There was no need to. Just being close to him was enough, and even if I had wanted to talk to him, it would’ve been nearly impossible with the noise level in the room. When the band finally stopped for a fifteen-minute break, I turned and faced him.

  “So what did you think?” It was polite small talk.

  “They were quite good, if you are into that sort of thing,” Adam replied, his hand positioned over his drink. The way he said it made me think that, in fact, he didn’t like it at all.

  “People loved them. Didn’t you see the response?”

  “I can see that your friend has something about him that people are attracted to. Do you find him attractive?” he asked, looking directly at me.

  “No! I mean, well, Birdie’s cute, don’t get me wrong, but he’s a friend,” I stammered. “Actually, he’s my best friend.”

  “I see.” He took a sip of his drink and sat silently.

  “So is this your first time at Spanx?” I grasped for some way to keep the conversation going.

  “Actually, it is. This is not the sort of establishment I would normally venture into, but I do find it somewhat fascinating. Their manner of dress here is intriguing.”

  I tried to cover my snort with a cough and the back of my hand. It didn’t work.

  “Why is that funny?” Adam asked.

  “I say, ol’ chap, this place is rather dodgy, don’t you think?” I said it with possibly the worst English accent ever.

  He smiled at me.

  “So you find me odd, then?” he asked softly.

  “Not really.” I paused. “I like the accent. I find it interesting.”

  “Why is that?” Mild curiosity reflected in his face.

  “Because I’ve never met anyone like you before. You act like you’re not even from here.”

  “Because I am not. I told you I just moved here.”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you act like you’re not even from this century.” I looked over at him as he looked away into the crowd.

  Before he could say another word, Birdie stalked up to the table with Haylee in tow. He looked frustrated, and Haylee looked like she’d had one too many. She had a grin plastered on her face and swayed from side to side as if the music were still playing.

  “Is there a reason why I’m babysitting a drunken Haylee Jane and you’re sittin’ here like the Queen of Sheba?” Birdie demanded. I went to answer him, but he cut me off. “Look, I’m in the middle of a show. I’ve got important people that I need to be talking to instead of playing big brother to Ms. I’m-a-happy-drunk Jackson.”

  “I’m sorry. I was–”

  “Don’t. It’s fine. It could just be the one show that brings in a scout, that’s all.”

  Birdie was angry. Haylee looked around anywhere but at the spectacle that was unfolding at the table. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as Birdie thought.

  “There is no reason to have a strop. She said she was sorry.” Adam’s comment took everyone by surprise.

  “And who the hell are you?” retorted Birdie, as if he didn’t remember seeing him in Paddy’s. Birdie let go of Haylee and stood squarely in front of Adam, who in turn had twisted sideways in his chair to look at Birdie.

  “Um, Birdie, this is Adam Walker.”

  “Nice to meet you, Birdie.” Adam extended one slender hand into the space between him and Birdie.

  “That’s James to you,” fumed Birdie, his hand still by his side. He stood there, not moving an inch. Adam retracted his hand and set it on the table in close proximity to mine. I felt slightly ill.

  Birdie glared at Adam.

  “I’ll catch you after the show.” Birdie stooped and placed a possessive kiss on my mouth like a branding mark. He stalked back toward the stage.

  “Well, that went well, didn’t it?” remarked Haylee.

  Startled, I turned to see that Haylee had taken the seat across the table from Adam. She definitely wasn’t drunk, although she was smiling like the Cheshire cat.

  Adam got up abruptly.

  “Wait! You don’t have to go,” I protested.

  He hesitated for a minute and then looked at me.

  “No, it is for the best. Take care,” he replied brusquely while turning and heading into the crowd toward the door. He left his full drink on the table.

  “Sorry about that,” said Haylee.

  “It’s not your fault.” I looked wistfully at the exit, but Adam was gone.

  “Oh, I know. I’m sorry they acted like a couple of jackasses, that’s all.” Haylee grinned.

  I grinned back.

  “I know, right? God, men!” I exclaimed.

  “Tell me about it.” Haylee smiled.

  I knew we were going to be okay.

  ***

  After the show, I waited around for Birdie. Unfortunately, he wasn’t ready to forgive me and came up with every possible excuse to ignore me. There were amps to put away, cables to wind up, and instruments to pack away. By two, I was tired of waiting. The club was empty except for the band and a few members of staff. Even Amanda had opted to leave over an hour ago.

  Haylee’s head sat peacefully atop her arms resting on the table, her breathing quiet and regular. I shook her shoulder.

  “What?” Haylee pulled her head off the table and rubbed her eyes.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I replied.

  I glanced back at the stage once more, but Birdie wasn’t even visible. He must’ve been backstage somewhere. There was no point in even trying to say goodbye. He was mad, and I would have to face him eventually. I’d cross that bridge later‌—‌right then, all I wanted was my bed and some decent sleep.

  I hooked my hand under Haylee’s arm and helped her to her feet, securing my other arm around Haylee’s waist and guiding her toward the door. Champ gave us a small nod before wishing us good night and locking the club door behind us. Haylee and I stepped out onto the deserted street and into the darkness.

  We were two blocks away from the car when I heard the footsteps closing in behind us.

  “Don’t turn around, but I think we’re being followed.” I held Haylee tighter, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

  “What?” Haylee came to a standstill on the sidewalk, but I urged her to move forward, picking up my pace.

  “Maybe I’m wrong.” My voice thrummed with uncertainty.

  I removed my arm from Haylee’s waist, keeping my stride brisk. Grabbing the strap of my bag, I pulled it over my head to the other shoulder. If someone was after my bag, they’d have a hard time with a snatch-and-run if it was fastened across my torso. Then another thought came to me. Maybe they weren’t following us. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe they were just fellow clubbers getting out late and heading home themselves. It was time to find out.

  “Haylee, let’s cross to the other side of the street.”


  “But it’s darker over there,” objected Haylee.

  “I know, but if they cross the street after us, we know for sure they’re following us.”

  Without waiting for Haylee’s response, I crossed over the street toward a boarded-up automotive shop. Haylee didn’t hesitate as she followed me. When I reached the safety of the other side of the street, I stole a glance behind me, and what I saw made my stomach clench into knots and my skin break out into a cold sweat. Three shapes crossed the road, too. Even if we ran, there was no way we could get to the car before they caught up with us. Running would be futile.

  “Haylee, we’re going to have to face them. We’ll never make it.”

  “Shit.”

  I stopped on the pavement, fumbling through my bag, looking for something I could use as a weapon. Haylee stood next to me, now looking behind her. There was no point in pretending anymore. After another second of frantic scrounging around, my fingers found my car keys. I gripped them in my fist, the end of my keys protruding past my knuckles. For a moment, I felt like Wolverine from X-men, and then the thought seemed ridiculous in the face of what was coming.

  The footsteps behind us slowed down, and then the whistling began. The notes, quiet at first, got louder as the shapes closed in, cutting through the silence. I shivered. That tune had been stuck in my head all night‌—‌it was one of Birdie’s songs. They’d been at the club, which meant it wasn’t just a random mugging‌…‌we’d been the targets all along.

  My fear was a bitter bile taste in the back of my mouth. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, and my hands tingled with the pressure of my clenched fists. This was going to be bad‌—‌really bad. A smattering of thoughts passed through my head. I wondered who would take care of Daisy. Would Birdie feel guilty for how he’d left things with us?

  Haylee let out a snarl and whipped around. Her sudden movement snapped me out of my reverie. It was time to take a stand. Fear was no longer an option. It was being burned away by the anger that seeped through me. Hadn’t life been hard enough for me and Haylee? Did we really deserve this? I spun around to stand side by side with her. I would go down kicking and screaming and do as much damage as I could. I wouldn’t be an easy victim, and from the looks of it, neither would Haylee.