Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  Adam’s touch roused me from my thoughts. He had paid the taxi driver, and we were standing alone in the driveway. It didn’t matter that he’d touched me through my coat. I didn’t feel the buzzing anymore, anyhow. Neither of us knew why it had stopped‌—‌the best we could come up with was that part of him being in me somehow cancelled out the effect. I missed the sensation, but it was gone.

  “Is it all right if I come in?” he asked as he intertwined his hand with mine.

  “Sure,” I said, my voice solemn. I hated the holidays, and this one was no different. Everybody was busy with their families except me. While Joe had come to visit me briefly in the hospital, I still hadn’t forgiven him.

  “Just so you know, I fixed the front door.” He gently guided me down the driveway. “So do not be surprised about that.”

  Adam’s remark about my front door reminded me that my trailer was still, officially speaking, a disaster zone. I groaned and stopped in the middle of the driveway.

  “Maybe it’s better if we go to yours?” I asked, not wanting to be confronted with the mess I hadn’t had a chance to deal with before the Christmas party.

  “It is up to you, you know, but we have got to pick up Daisy, anyhow. Come on, it will be okay,” Adam said as he coaxed me to walk forward.

  There was no point in arguing. It would be hard to keep anything from him now that a part of him was always with me. Since the accident, he’d been able to read my emotions, and although that disturbed me, there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. If he could take his piece of soul back, provided he knew how to do it, then it could theoretically kill me. I just had to live with it even if it meant that I was one giant walking mood meter now.

  I reached the front porch of my trailer. There was a new shiny metal door with what appeared to be an industrial-sized lock drilled into it. It looked like the type of door you’d expect to find on a walk-in meat freezer. A brand new welcome mat sat in front of it, complete with a flowerpot in which a bright red poinsettia currently resided.

  “Don’t you think a steel door is a bit over the top?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “No, not really,” he replied. I waited for him to explain further, but he didn’t‌—‌he didn’t have to. Against my better judgment, I had let Adam go to the police station to report the break-in. As expected, the police hadn’t done anything.

  I turned away from him to put the new key in the big oversize lock, but wasn’t prepared for what was on the other side of the door.

  “Merry Christmas!” shouted Birdie and Haylee. Daisy, unable to help herself, woofed for good measure before leaping up and almost knocking me over.

  “Oh my god, you didn’t…” Tears blurred my vision as I put both hands up to my mouth.

  “Don’t just stand there. Do you like it?” asked an impatient Haylee.

  I just nodded my head, but couldn’t speak.

  My trailer had undergone a transformation. The pine paneling was gone, as were my pressboard kitchen cabinets. The old linoleum and carpet were gone, too. In fact, the only things that looked original were the windows. Someone had come in and replaced my old white fridge with a brand new stainless steel one. A front-loading washing machine had been slotted under my new wooden countertop so I no longer had to go to the laundromat to do my laundry.

  It was almost too much to take in.

  “How did you pay for this?” I whispered as Haylee ushered me over to my new upholstered sofa.

  “Don’t look at us. Daddy Warbucks here paid for it all,” she said as she jerked her thumb toward Adam. A small Christmas tree glittered in the corner behind the door.

  “It’s too much.”

  “Poesy…” Adam started to say something, but Birdie cut him off.

  “I know it looks a lot, but it’s just Ikea,” Birdie said. Haylee snorted. It appeared Birdie was more than happy to spend Adam’s money.

  I spun around and gave Adam a big hug that caught him off guard. “Thank you. How can I ever repay you?”

  “Stay safe. That is all I ask. I have a vested interest in your well-being now.” He gave me a small smile as he kissed my forehead and released himself from my embrace.

  “Deal.” I gave him a brief peck on his cheek.

  “Get a room already,” muttered Birdie. Haylee swatted at his arm.

  “Who wants a drink?” asked Haylee. She strolled over to the new fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne.

  “Amen to that,” I said as I walked over and gave Birdie his own hug and kiss. He gave me a funny look, but I didn’t care.

  The rest of the day passed quickly. Presents were opened, food was consumed, football was watched, and even Daisy got into the Christmas spirit with her own pair of doggy reindeer antlers. I looked at the three familiar faces and smiled.

  This is what it means to have family, I thought to myself. Even with a serial killer still on the loose, Tybee was my home, and Birdie, Adam, Haylee‌…‌they were my family.

  I was happy to be home.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Acknowledgements

  There are a lot of people who put up with me during the writing of this first book. Needless to say, it took a small army to keep me motivated during the many renditions Watcher went through before it became this final edition. There are way too many to list here, but thank you each and every one of you‌—‌you know who you are!

  Having said this, there are a few bright shining stars who stand out for going over and beyond the call of duty:

  First in line is my content editor, Bev Rosenbaum. This book would not be what it is without her. Words just don’t do her justice. She did an excellent job of whipping me into shape, and while it was painful at the time, it was totally worth it. I am forever indebted to you.

  Second would be Amanda Sumner. She was a late addition to the team, but worth all the sweat and tears and swearing. If anyone ever tells you that you don’t need a copy editor, they are utterly wrong. Mine is worth her weight in Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

  Next up, Kara Carter. Thank you for being my best friend and dealing with my crap‌…‌and of course, for reading Watcher many more times than you actually wanted to. Nineteen years and counting.

  And finally, to my husband Jon, without whom this book would’ve never been possible. Thank you for the sacrifices you make every day so that I can stay at home and write. I couldn’t ask for a better man to spend my life with. You’re the best.

  About The Author

  Shawnee began writing the first book in the series in early 2010. Drawing on inspiration from her life abroad, as well as, her time in the Goth subculture of the ’80s and ’90s, Watcher was published in February 2012. Protector, the follow up book in The Shining Ones series is out now.

  She is currently working on several projects including Betrayer, the third book in The Shining Ones series, and a book of short stories based on ’80s hits.

  When not tucked away in the bedroom writing, Shawnee spends her time in her vegetable garden or hanging out with her husband, and their dog. You can find her most days on Facebook or Twitter or having a nervous breakdown on her blog at shawneesmall.com

  1

  “Where do you want me?” Adam’s British accent broke my concentration.

  It’d been three months, three weeks, and four days since an angel showed up in my life, and now he stood across from me on the other side of the studio in battered old jeans and a white shirt. His chestnut-colored hair had that tousled, post-bed look that few men could pull off well.

  Yes, he was celestial in more ways than one.

  “Poesy?” He spread his arms wide and looked around.

  I followed his glance around the room. The art studio behind my trailer had been nothing more than a shack the size of a utility closet before my accident, but now it was more than twice that. I had the man‌—‌okay, the supernatural creature‌—‌in front of me to thank for that, along with the small matter o
f saving my life.

  “I’m just thinking. Hold on.” I walked toward the light stand to his left. Tilting the aluminum light so it shined in the middle of the drop cloth hanging on the wall, I grabbed Adam by the waistband of his jeans and tugged him toward the spot where I wanted him.

  “Poesy, there is no need–” he began, his body stiffening as my hand tucked in close to his fly.

  “Oh, you wish.” I rolled my eyes.

  Actually, I wished, but right then, I needed him to be cooperative and not angsty, so I let go of his jeans and dragged him by his hand into the spotlight. There was a moment of sadness for me when the buzzing didn’t start. Once upon a time, his touch would’ve literally made me tingle from head to toe, but that sensation had disappeared when I woke up in the hospital after my accident.

  “Here.” I kneeled and indicated a spot on the floor with my hand. “Sit right here.”

  Adam lowered his body to the floor, looking dubious. Sitting back on his feet, he mimicked my position, brushing a sliver of hair out of his face and staring at me. He looked uncomfortable, and I couldn’t resist a small grin. Backing up a foot to give him some space, I tapped his knees and shook my head.

  “Not like that. Like this.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, slouching.

  Adam leaned back and pulled his feet out from under him, straightening his legs toward me. “Like this?”

  “Yep. I just need to make a few adjustments, so don’t freak out at me, Mr.-All-light-and-innocence.” I pushed his shoulders back up against the wall and tilted his chin. His upturned face smiled at me, and I resisted the urge to straddle his lap. “Okay, good.”

  God, why was he so unbearably hot?

  I cleared my throat and shuffled back away from him, squinting. The light hit his shoulder and the side of his face in a pleasing way. He no longer smiled, but his eyes held me curiously.

  “Don’t move or else.” I got to my feet to grab the giant canvas from the corner of the room and my box of pencils. Setting the canvas against an extra stool, I sat back down cross-legged in front of him.

  “Happy?” Adam asked quietly as I penciled an outline of his torso onto the canvas.

  “Mostly,” I replied, my response muted. We were both aware that he wasn’t talking about my drawing. I continued to sketch lines for his shoulders and arms, filling in shadow around his waist before moving to the soft features of his face.

  It was hard to look at him right then with the memories flooding back, jumbling up my thoughts. The cold, dark water. Unable to breathe. Struggling to survive, but knowing I was drowning. Then the blinding light and Adam’s face hovering over mine. The hospital where he told me about using part of his soul to save me. It was in me now. The only reason why I was still alive‌—‌I harbored part of an angel’s soul in my body.

  “Mostly?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. It sounds horrible, doesn’t it, I mean after everything that’s happened? I’m thankful to be sitting here with you, to be breathing and alive‌…‌but…” My voice trailed off.

  “You cannot remember what happened,” he stated. I nodded.

  We’d had this conversation several times since I’d been home, and yet my memory was still gone. I remembered working the Christmas party, but that was it. Even when Adam had filled me in on our fight, I had no idea what had happened before or after that or how I ended up in the water. It just didn’t make sense, and that didn’t sit well with me.

  Neither did all the gossip that had come my way since I’d been home. The town was convinced that I’d tried to kill myself, just like my dead mother, Ellie. I was officially the center of the gossip universe.

  “Look at me, Poesy.” He said it gently. Adam tilted his head down to catch my eye, but I shook my head, trying to swallow the knot in my throat.

  “Poesy, please.”

  I lifted my chin and gave him a weak smile.

  “You did not try to harm yourself. You and I both know that. James knows that, too. And Haylee.” Bringing up my two best friends didn’t make me feel any better, yet he nodded his head as if confirming something to himself. “Give it time.”

  I pushed the self-pity down and tucked a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. “Anyhow, it doesn’t change things. There are still two dead girls, and I’m still the lunatic barmaid with a death wish.” One of those dead girls had been my friend, Amanda Chu, and there was still a killer on the loose.

  “Poesy–” he warned, frowning, right as my cell phone rang. I jumped up and grabbed it off of the steel countertop.

  It was Stevie. Damn it.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” I asked into the phone, trying to hide my irritation.

  “I need you to come in,” he responded in his usual bark. My boss, Stevie Flannigan, didn’t believe in niceties.

  “I’m not due back until tomorrow. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

  Technically, I was still on sick leave for another twenty-four hours, not that I was really sick anymore. It was more that I didn’t want to face all the stares and whispers at Paddy’s Bar and Grill. Surely I could squeeze out one more day?

  Apparently not.

  “You can’t hide in that trailer forever. It ain’t a request. I need you here by two,” Stevie said before hanging up on me.

  Glancing up at the clock over the door, I saw it was one already. I grimaced. Adam didn’t need our nearly psychic link to take in my frustration.

  “Stevie, I presume?”

  “You presume correctly. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.” I picked up the canvas and stored it away, back in its corner. Adam got up from his sitting position in one fluid movement, holding out the pencil box. I took it and put it away.

  “You still have one day left.” He closed the distance between us and stood in front of me, his arms crossed.

  “Not in Stevie’s universe. I seriously doubt he would’ve called me in if someone else had been available,” I said reasonably, shrugging.

  Adam rubbed my shoulder before dropping a light kiss on the top of my head. I leaned into him, savoring our close contact as he wrapped his arm around me.

  There was a part of me that would’ve done anything to stay secure in my little cocoon with my new celestial boyfriend, but it was no good. I couldn’t stay holed up here forever, not with bills to pay and food to buy. No, the sooner I embraced the inevitable, the sooner things would get back to normal.

  If there was such a thing as normal anymore.

  Between having part of Adam’s soul in me and the string of murders that hinted at a possible serial killer in our midst, nothing was normal. I stepped back and gave him a sheepish smile.

  Sighing, Adam ran his hand through his hair, the little wrinkles around his eyes revealing his concern, but the lecture didn’t come. “Inside with you, then. The least I can do is walk you to work.”

  “Thank you.” I gave him a quick pat on the arm before leading him out of the studio and shutting the door.

  ***

  I held Adam’s hand the whole way to Paddy’s. It was weird, really, not that I minded. I was happy that we were finally an item. After Adam’s attempt to keep tabs on me by faking a relationship with my nemesis, Brianna Macon, things should’ve been too awkward between us to progress any further than friends, but we’d gotten over that hurdle. I found myself spending a lot of time with Adam. Just like a real boyfriend‌…‌without the physical part.

  Sad, but true. Angels were forbidden to sleep with human women. Even contraception was no guarantee against conception, and just the thought of a half-breed Nephilim child was enough to make Adam break out into a cold sweat. From the way he told it, a Nephilim child’s very existence could destroy the human race and perhaps even the universe. Needless to say, that made our relationship rather tricky.

  While I was uncertain how long my raging libido would stay contained, for the moment, it whimpered quietly in the background. I squeezed Adam’s han
d, causing him to look down at me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, keeping up his long stride.

  “Yeah, I am.” I was faintly amused that he asked, since he could easily tell how I was feeling‌—‌that was a side effect of having part of his soul in me.

  “What?” Adam cocked his head sideways and gave me a curious glance. “Poesy, just because I am attuned to your moods does not mean I have a right to pry. I am content with whatever you share with me.” He paused, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “I would not want for you to be unhappy because you have held nothing private back for yourself.”

  “I know, and I appreciate your worrying about me, but I don’t know why you do.”

  He stopped in his tracks and looked down at me in wonder. “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” I said, being honest with him. “I mean, what’s the point? Look at you.” I waved my free hand up and down him. “You don’t need me.”

  He grabbed both my hands between both of his and pulled me close to his chest. Heat radiated off his body, and I had a hard time concentrating on his next words.

  “You are wrong. I do need you. I need to feel this.” He placed my hand over his heart. “I need the connection‌…‌I need to feel alive.” He released my hands and stared into my eyes, willing me to understand.