Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  “I know.”

  His lack of emotion, warmth, or anything that felt like the friendship we’d had since we were kids was totally disheartening and confusing. Surely we could spring back from whatever was plaguing us now? I said as much, but Birdie shook his head.

  “I don’t know where to start,” he muttered.

  I gazed up at his face in the moonlight and was startled by the guilt that lined his eyes, his mouth, his brow. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t be good. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. I could feel the cold breeze along the back of my neck and shivered.

  “What is it?” The unease was getting stronger with every passing second.

  “You’re not going to like it.” He looked away from me.

  His hair swirled around his face as the wind picked up. His beauty caught me off guard. I felt butterflies in my stomach and wondered if they were a result of my apprehension or if I actually desired him. Could it be that I had real feelings for him? Had I been so wrapped up in Adam that I couldn’t see the truth in front of my face?

  Jesus. Was I in love with Birdie? The thought left me breathless.

  “No matter what, I’m still your friend,” he said, the lack of emotion in his voice making me nervous once again.

  “Birdie, don’t–”

  “I don’t love you,” he said calmly. I had been reaching out to comfort him, but I jerked my arm away from him as if he had bitten me.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “I know now that what I was feeling wasn’t right. I was confused and when Adam starting showing you attention, I thought that–”

  “No.” I whispered this time. Not my Birdie. Please don’t take him, too…

  Birdie placed his hand on my shoulder. “It’s true. I’m with Katie Fitzpatrick now, and she makes me happy. I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been.”

  All my emotions‌—‌all the pain, the worry, the anxiety‌—‌overloaded my brain at that very moment. I felt nothing but anger and rage. I pushed him hard, the tears flowing now. I couldn’t stop myself. A strangled cry erupted out of my chest. “You liar! Take it back,” I yelled as my fist landed on his chest.

  “Stop!” Birdie shouted at me. He grabbed my arms and tried to hug me into subservience.

  I burst into sobs.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as I struggled against him. “We were never meant to be, Poe.”

  He still held onto my arms and no matter how much I struggled, he wouldn’t let go. Instead of agitating me further, his proximity drained the anger away. Fresh, hot tears ran down my face as reality sank in. He was gone‌—‌truly gone. Did I ever have him in the first place? My heart was crumbling.

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I asked as I pushed away from him, trying to fight back the pain.

  “Because I want you to get on with your life,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I want you to be happy.”

  I cut him off. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Poe–”

  “Katie Fitzpatrick? Are you fucking serious?” I spat the words out. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

  “Are you looking for a fight, Poe? Is that what’s going on here? You can’t be a big enough person and say that you’re happy for me? You rejected me, remember?” Even in the moonlight, I could see the anger on Birdie’s face, his stance as he planted his hands on his hips. Yet his eyes looked haunted.

  I lost my nerve. Without another word, I turned and fled from the scene. Fled from the humiliation, the betrayal, the feeling of worthlessness.

  Haylee was the first person I ran into back at the tent, staggering headfirst right into her.

  “Jesus Christ on a bike! What the hell happened to you?” Haylee asked as she steadied the drinks on her tray, her eyes widening. “Are you okay?”

  I grabbed a mixed drink off her tray and downed it in one go. It was like fire going down, but the pain wouldn’t be quenched.

  Grabbing another, I drank it just as quickly. I threw one shot back and then another. The buzz was heady, and I welcomed inebriation with open arms. If I drank more, maybe it would dull the pain, dull the reality of my life. Being drunk wouldn’t be that bad. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and started laughing.

  “Girl, would you get ahold of yourself and tell me what’s going on? You’re scarin’ the shit out of me.” Haylee set the now empty tray down and grabbed me by the arm, leading me behind the bar into the shadows.

  I couldn’t stop laughing, and hysteria was starting to take over. It crept up from my belly into my chest, like a giant boa constrictor squeezing out what little sanity I had left.

  “It’s all shit,” I said, unable to stop the laughter. “It’s all shit.”

  I bent over, the giggling uncontrollable. My sides were starting to hurt.

  “What the hell is going on?” asked Brianna as she traipsed over to where we were standing behind the bar. She looked smug, and I wanted to hit her, but the madness was stronger.

  “It’s too good to be true,” I gasped, clutching my sides as another wave of hysterical guffaws took over.

  People were starting to stare. I didn’t care. Let them stare and gape and gossip. That Poesy Wharton was always trouble. She’s finally come unhinged. Thank goodness Penny isn’t alive to … Then his voice was like a cold slap across the face.

  “That is enough,” Adam growled. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me away.

  I couldn’t look at Brianna as the buzzing shot up my arm and into my brain, startling me. I turned around, searching frantically for Haylee. She was tagging along after us, but Adam put up a warning hand.

  “I will deal with this. I am paying you to look after my guests,” Adam said sharply before turning back to me and dragging me a lengthy distance away from the tent.

  He stopped too quickly and released my arm. I pitched forward into the sand, my knees scraping against tiny shards of shell. The pain brought me to my senses.

  “How dare you?” I staggered to my feet.

  “How dare I?” he said, the indignation clearly marked in his voice.

  “Yes, you! You’ve ruined everything!” I yelled, not caring if my voice carried on the wind or not.

  “I saved your life. I have risked everything to protect you,” he retorted.

  I was tired of this game. “Fine, whatever. Have it your way. I’m going back to the party.” I turned on my heel to go.

  “No, you are not,” he said, grabbing hold of my arm again.

  “Let go!”

  “Go home, Poesy. You do not belong here. Walk it off, sober up, do something, but you are not welcome here. I want you to leave.” His voice was harsh.

  Stunned by his cruelty, I struggled to keep my voice under control. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your precious party! I’m just a stupid human girl, remember?”

  “Poesy,” he sighed.

  “No, you were right. We’re better off not being anything. This,” I said flinging my arms into the wind, “this is one big fucking disaster. You. Me. The universe. It’s all fucked up. I’m done!”

  I stalked off up the beach.

  I dared him to come after me, but he didn’t.

  ***

  I regretted my words just like I knew I would.

  It was as if I’d become separated from my body and floated above myself. The thing with Birdie had unraveled me, and I’d watched the scene play out between me and Adam in a clinical, detached way, not really connected to the words or the motions. I could feel the wrongness of the accusations as I flung them at him, but the torrent of abuse was unstoppable. It had flowed out of me like lava out of an erupting volcano‌—‌hot, acidic, and poisonous.

  I stumbled down the beach in my uncomfortable dress shoes while trying to keep the tears from coming again, but it was useless. Tears cascaded down my face as I staggered over the dry sand, trying to avoid clumps of smelly seaweed and the occasional piece of ro
tted driftwood. I was exhausted. The anger had buoyed me during the worst parts, but now, I felt like the walking dead. There was nothing inside me‌—‌I was hollow, an empty corn husk that would blow over at the slightest hint of an emotional tempest, beyond fragile.

  My thoughts brought on the beginning of a headache and a fresh wave of tears. I let them come even when they turned into deep, heaving sobs. I cried for my loss, the pain of treachery, the damage to my pride, the unfairness of it all. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. It was cathartic, like lancing a boil. All the noxious, pus-filled misery seeped out of my body, leaving me feeling bruised but intact.

  God, I’m so melodramatic.

  I shook my head. My mental state had taken a fair amount of beating. I felt all sorts of turbulence‌—‌sadness, worry, panic, betrayal, jealousy, desire. The last couple of months had been some of the hardest times of my life, but what now? What did it all mean for me? What was I supposed to do?

  Do what anybody else would do, I said to myself. Move on.

  Easier said than done.

  I sat down abruptly, looking out at the waves splashing against the shoreline. Without thinking, I grabbed my shoe from my left foot and threw it over my head. It landed in the water with a satisfying sploosh. I slipped my right foot out of my remaining shoe and it followed its sister into the water. The sound was just as satisfying the second time around. Leaning back, I shimmied out of my pantyhose and threw those toward the water, too. They were too light to make it that far, and the prevailing wind tossed them down the shoreline like a small nylon tumbleweed.

  Unbuttoning my blouse to my bra line, I was half tempted to discard Brianna’s hateful shirt as well, but it was too chilly to go topless. All the exercise and emotion had kept me warm, but now that I’d stopped, the cold bit at my skin, causing me to wrap my arms around my waist.

  If I’d been smart, I would’ve gotten up and stumbled home, but I didn’t want to go just yet. I wanted to wallow in my pity a little bit longer.

  Something in the water caught my attention.

  I looked twelve to fifteen feet out beyond the shoreline at an eerie fluorescent glow under the water. It couldn’t be, could it?

  I stood up too quickly from sitting, and pins and needles shot up and down my numb legs. The tingling reminded me of Adam’s touch and the way his hand felt on my arm, my face, my thigh. It made me shiver, and I could feel my pulse quicken. It wouldn’t take a lot for someone else to see the shimmering light in the water. It wasn’t necessarily a beacon in the dark, especially given the full moon, but it was enough to raise a suspicion or two if anyone else saw it. Why was he out there?

  My heart kicked into overdrive. The need to speak with Adam was overpowering and as ridiculous as it seemed, I couldn’t stop myself from walking toward the water, the dry, gritty granules underneath my feet changing to a paste as my feet slapped along the cold, wet sand, my toes curling up automatically. I ignored the discomfort and wobbled the rest of the way to the tide line, only hesitating for a moment before stepping into the frigid water.

  I let out an involuntary gasp as the freezing saltwater lapped at my ankles first, then my calves, causing me to cross my arms for warmth. Defiance overpowered any remaining good sense, and I braced myself against the cold water as I took another baby step toward the glowing light, which was slightly off to my left and seemed to move slightly farther away. The frigid water lapped at the area right above my kneecaps, so I gritted my teeth and began to bob from side to side on the balls of my feet, daring myself to go farther.

  I couldn’t feel my toes, but I plunged ahead into the sea, swearing out loud as the water surrounded my thighs, soaking my skirt and the bottom of my flimsy shirt. It was now up to the bottom of my crotch. The thought of the swirling dark water up around my waist made me nervous, but I tamped down the panic and took one more giant step.

  It was my undoing.

  I lifted my head up toward where the light should’ve been, but it was gone. Glancing left and right, trying to orient myself, I searched for the first place I’d seen the dazzling glow. It wasn’t there. There was no supernatural shimmer on the horizon, only the glimmer of the moon on the surface of the water, and even that was waning under the pressure of the mounting clouds in the sky. The moonlight struggled to break through the hazy cover, leaving the sea pitch-black.

  Something wasn’t right. I stood stock-still in the water, listening for the sound of an errant splash or slap, but there was nothing‌—‌no comforting noise except for my own shallow breath that squeezed out of my ribcage. The distant sound of the party’s jazz band did nothing to allay my mounting wariness. I was alone with the wind, the water, and the darkness. The last suddenly felt close and oppressive, like a smothering blanket.

  Anxious, I’d turned to make my way back to the shore when an explosion of pain erupted from the back of my head. I crumpled into the water as a shower of stars detonated behind my eyes. I tried to breathe. That was a mistake. My sharp intake of breath drew saltwater into my mouth and down into my chest, where it burned.

  The shock of the sensation propelled me back toward the sky. My mouth broke the water’s surface as I tried to gulp down air and scream at the same time, but nothing came out. I felt the tug a moment too late as my head was jerked back under.

  I started to panic as I felt myself being dragged out into the current. The pain in the back of my head was nothing compared to the pain in my lungs. Scrambling for purchase on the sandy bottom, looking for anything that would give me a boost back toward the surface and life-giving oxygen, my legs couldn’t find the sea bed. Something was tugging my right leg farther and farther out into the channel.

  The fear rose up in my throat as my lungs continued to burn. I could feel every muscle in my body cramping and contorting. The pressure was building up in my throat from holding my breath, and I didn’t have long before unconsciousness took me. Pulling my left leg up to my chest as far as I could, I slammed it down hard against the thing ensnaring my right leg. My heel didn’t make contact with raspy shark skin; it was something altogether softer and suppler, almost like human flesh.

  The thought wavered as my brain started to shut down, awareness slipping out of my grasp as I tried to focus on the tingling in my hands and feet, the pain that was lessening with every second. Lethargy was creeping up on me.

  Not like Ellie, screamed a voice somewhere in my head.

  The terror of my mother’s death clung to me, and I focused on that terror, that despair. Whatever it took to stay alive.

  My head broke the surface once more and I screamed. It took every ounce of energy I had left, but I screamed in the slim hope that someone would hear me. Would it be enough? Would someone hear my faint call and come to my rescue?

  I wouldn’t find out. There was another hard tug on my leg, and my head was underwater again. Tiny clusters of bubbles leaked from my nose as I ran out of breath in my lungs.

  I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore. The water was no longer freezing, but rather felt like flannel against my skin‌—‌warm, fuzzy, comfortable. I marveled at how the pain was dissipating with the warmth of the sea. My lungs no longer burned with pain. The throbbing was gone from my head, too. It was a dull ache, nothing more.

  It wouldn’t be that bad. It would be painless.

  Maybe Ellie didn’t suffer like I had always imagined she had. Perhaps this was the easiest way to go, the way everyone should die. I felt a small smile tug at my waterlogged lips.

  In my last moment of bliss, I could hear the rushing of waves mingled with the sound of voices. Discordant voices. They were like fingernails against a chalkboard. The sound was unpleasant, and I tried to swat at the noise.

  Go away! I shouted in my head. Leave me alone and let me die in peace.

  There was no hiding from the voices. They were insistent.

  “Wake up!” someone screamed. It sounded like Haylee Jane in my mind, but the pitch was too high. “O
h, god, someone help her!” yelled another voice, this one like Birdie’s. He was sobbing, and I wanted to tell him it would be all right, that I loved him, but my mouth wouldn’t work. I couldn’t feel my lips.

  It’s a shame it’s too late, I thought to myself, not really caring anymore.

  I retreated farther from the voices, trying to block them out as I gravitated toward a calm place, a place where there was no noise, only light‌—‌a light that caressed my skin with a thousand kisses, a brilliant white light that made me feel as weightless as a dove’s wing on a clear spring day. There would be no more pain, no more suffering, no more remorse. I would be nothing, feel nothing, a mote of dying light in the abyss. I would welcome the end with open arms and no regrets.

  But it didn’t come.

  “It is not your time,” said a whispering voice somewhere near my ear.

  The voice was familiar and delicious, like smooth, creamy toffee on my tongue. I shivered as I listened for it again, but the voice was gone. I frowned. Where was he? Where did he go? I shouted out for him in the light, but his voice had disappeared.

  Sadness overwhelmed me. He had abandoned me at the very end.

  Suddenly, a beam of amber light thundered through my chest like a burning freight train, eradicating any trace of the other‌—‌it was hot and molten, liquid gold against my skin. It burned away the indifference until my thoughts were of nothing but him. Like a tidal wave that surged over every pore in my body, washing away my flesh and replacing it with a golden flood of desire, love, and lust, my body convulsed as the tingling strengthened and undulated from my pubis up to my heart. The charge intensified, and my back arched under the insistent pressure that radiated somewhere near my mouth.

  It was him‌…‌Adam had come to me.

  He was within me, and that was all that mattered. I would make room for him. I would house him in myself, and he would fit inside me as a hand fits in a glove. We would at last be one.

  And then it was gone.

  My eyes fluttered open for a second, and I looked up into his chocolate eyes swirling with emotion and awe and a sublime intensity I would never forget as long as I lived.