by Brinda Berry
Watcher of Worlds
Brinda Berry
Sweet Biscuit Publishing LLC
Contents
Copyright
Also by Brinda Berry
Acknowledgments
Dedication
1. Imperfect
2. Jingle Bells
3. Personal Space
4. Regulus
5. Mistletoe
6. Pete
7. Christmas Photos
8. Where Oh Where
9. Afternoon Drive
10. Flying
11. Suspension
12. Bad to Worse
13. Regulus
14. Quest
15. Caregiver
16. Down the Hole
17. Company
18. Regulus
19. Betrayal
20. Pete
21. A Plan
22. Regulus
23. Mission Impossible
24. Regulus
25. Good-bye
About the Author
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By Sweet Biscuit Publishing LLC
Cover Design by Jake Berry
Watcher of Worlds
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First electronic publication: December 2013
Second electronic publication: June 2014
ISBN: 978-0-9916320-4-6
Also by Brinda Berry
New Adult Novels
Chasing Luck (A Serendipity Novel)
Young Adult Novels
The Waiting Booth (Whispering Woods #1)
Whisper of Memory (Whispering Woods #2)
Watcher of Worlds (Whispering Woods #3)
Wild at Heart II (An Anthology)
Lore: Tales of Myth and Legend Retold (An Anthology)
For release news, subscribe at http://bit.ly/Brinda_Berry
Acknowledgments
I’d be lost without my special people. As always, thanks to Audrey Estes for reading, supporting, promoting, and laughing. Thanks to Kristi Cheatham and Monieca West for being beyond-awesome beta readers and friends. Every writer needs critiquers as brutally honest as mine: Abbie Roads, Christina Delay, Jenn Windrow, Natalya Whitaker and Jennifer Savalli. Special shoutout to talented critique partner Kelly Crawley for reading and critiquing every single page.
You ladies rock.
To Brent who doesn’t read my books (too much kissing on the page) but supports me in everything I do. Thanks for saying I never have to sell cookware.
1
Imperfect
In a perfect world, I’d have three things: a lifetime supply of Skittles, a part-time job that didn’t include extra-terrestrials, and an unbroken heart.
But I never expected perfect. I did wish for life closer to normal.
I crossed my arms and listened to my friend Arizona. He could charm me into anything and today he wanted me to accompany him to the woods. He’d come alone and that had been a good move. There were things I could handle and things I couldn’t. I could handle Arizona’s current modus operandi: train, capture, and train.
I couldn’t handle facing our team leader, Regulus. The guy had owned my heart once. Then, he’d returned it—fractured in a zillion pieces of bittersweet memories.
“I’ve made a decision,” I said. “I think you need to replace me. I don’t plan on leaving you guys without an option. If my brother and I were born with synesthesia, that’s two of us in Whispering Woods. Two from the same family. High percentage. There has to be more. Statistically, I’m positive that there are more people who have it. I’ll find someone else who can be your portal gatekeeper.”
He cocked his head to one side, presenting me with his sad-puppy face.
“Oh, come on.” I resisted the urge to add ‘pretty please.’ Begging was not my style.
Arizona had the audacity to give me his heart-melting grin. “Now Mia. You can’t be replaced. It’s rare to find a synesthete who can sense portals.” He reached over and placed an arm around my shoulder. “You’re special.” He crushed me in a side hug.
By special, he had to mean that I didn’t have a backbone and could be coerced into this life that had gone from passably comfortable, to life-as-an-extreme-sport.
“Stop with the hugging. I’ll go.” We stood on the front porch. Winter hadn’t made up its mind if it wanted to let fall hang around, or not. My hoodie would be a little warm for Arizona’s favorite class, Torture Mia 101. “I need to put on a T-shirt. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Inside, I grumbled as I went up the stairs to my room. I understood the whole “Slips can be dangerous” and “This is serious business” and “You are more than a dowsing rod for portals” mentality that Arizona kept throwing at me. But I just wanted it to stop. Teens were supposed to say no to drugs. Why couldn’t I just say no to him?
Wait a minute. I had said no.
The problem was that Arizona knew the main reason that I wanted—no needed—to quit. I couldn’t see my ex without my chest squeezing so hard it threatened to implode. He and Regulus worked for the Interdimensional Immigration Authorities—IIA for short. I always shortened the ridiculously self-important name. The IIA had been recruiting me for months.
I changed into a T-shirt, added sneakers, and pulled my long hair into a ponytail. It wouldn’t hurt to practice with Arizona one more time. Maybe I could come up with a plan to find a replacement for me. How hard could it be?
I was a little cheered by the thought and had a pep in my step. I walked outside to see him patiently waiting on the porch swing.
“‘Resistance is futile.’” Arizona read the slogan on my shirt with wide smile.
I looked down at my chest and frowned. There went my good mood. “Let’s get this over with.”
We walked to the area where the portal had taken up residence. The portals in Whispering Woods changed according to moon phases and I had the lucky job of locating where the next one would appear. The identification of a portal had gotten exponentially easier. It pulled at me. Breaking up with Regulus must have helped me to focus my senses on things other than him.
My skin always tingled within a hundred-foot radius of the portal. Not enough to make me break a sweat, but enough to make me feel uneasy. Fifty feet away, I’d taste fizzy cola, the vibrations of the portal seeping into my mouth. Ten feet away, I’d see the shimmer of the envelope around the portal. A beautiful wave of compressed air dressing the portal’s opening.
In different circumstances, it would have been inspirational, vast, or mysterious, like looking into the Grand Canyon with binoculars but with a more powerful lens.
I might even miss this. I sighed and hoped Arizona hadn’t heard it. Portal detection was like scoring extra life points in my favorite vide
o game—easy if you knew the key.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. Favorite part of every Saturday.” My droll tone dripped with sarcasm.
“It can’t be that bad to spend a few hours with me.”
I looked up in surprise. “No. You know I was kidding.”
His eyebrows raised a half inch.
“I’m happy to be outside and this is fine.” It had been more than fine during the pre-breakup months when both Regulus and Arizona had trained with me on the weekends.
“Fine,” he mocked, then found his persuasive smile again. “I want you to train near the portal. Your sensory signals should never interfere with apprehending an intruder.”
“Gotcha.”
“Take this bow. We need to expand from a knife. A knife only works when your target is near. Today, it’s stump shooting.”
I took it from his hands. “Like this?”
He nudged one of my feet. “Shoulder width apart. Stand sideways and straddle this invisible line.” He scrubbed one heel across the ground. “Put your hands here and here. Most of your weight is on your back foot.”
“What’s Regulus doing today?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. It was none of my business how he spent his time. It was also a stupid thing to say since I’d refused to train with him.
I held the bow with my left hand and pulled the string. The arrow flew in a wild arc into the brush.
“I didn’t tell you to release it.” Arizona grimaced. “He has a paper due. Working on it with this girl from Western Civ class. Allison, I think.”
My heart raced and my vision closed in at the edges.
He glanced at my face. “I’ll find the arrow. It’s OK.”
He’d only said a paper. Not a date. A person could have a friend or a study partner and it didn’t have to mean anything. And it wasn’t supposed to matter if it was more than working on a class project. So why did it still hurt?
Whoosh.
Something massive moved in my peripheral vision. I gasped as a beast stormed through the portal at my right. The animal surged toward me. Shock froze me like a car stranded across railroad tracks. Arizona yelled at me to back up.
The panicked sounds of the horse rang through my ears. I crouched on the ground and covered my head.
“Move back,” yelled Arizona.
I wanted to listen and do as he said, but I was frozen. And then an impact smacked me to the ground—the air knocked from my lungs, an elbow jammed in my side, a scream sounded in my ear. I pushed to my knees and crawled at a pace like swimming through pudding.
The woman at my side lay limp with her head lolling to one side. I moved closer and touched her arm. Her horse whinnied and kicked his hooves in the air.
Arizona moved in. “I’ve got her.” He placed his stunner against her wrist and inserted a microchip into the flesh.
“Is she OK?” My lips quivered and nausea crept forward. “She’s bleeding.” I moved her hair from her face. On examination, I could tell that she was close to my age—only a teen. I stared at her model-perfect features marred by the blood.
“She’s breathing,” he said.
“Arizona. She’s hurt.”
“It’s a little blood. She’ll be OK.”
“You can’t—”
Arizona picked her up. The horse had settled and moved closer to his owner. “This won’t take long, but you should go back home.” He hefted the girl’s body across the animal and jumped on the horse’s back.
“What if she’s a runaway or something?” The girl moaned as if she’d heard me.
“She doesn’t have authorization to be here. She’s a Slip. It doesn’t matter why.”
“But—”
The girl began to wiggle, trying to slip from the horse’s back. Arizona fought to keep his balance.
“Where is Regulus when I need him? Hooking up with some girl,” he muttered.
I sucked in a breath.
He frowned. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”
I knew he expected me to say—Oh, it’s OK. No big deal.
But my lips couldn’t form words because something in the denial section of my brain clicked. Total clarity in that one phrase—‘hooking up with some girl.’
Before, Regulus had always followed the rules of engagement. Cardinal rule said there could be no dating in an agent’s assigned area. And then we’d happened. We hadn’t planned to fall for each other. It was like getting wet in a thunderstorm. Unavoidable. Intense. A force of nature.
The IIA had inflicted their punishment and performed a memory cleanse.
Was Regulus breaking the rules for someone else? Bile rose in my throat and I closed my eyes. Arizona thought I could go back to being friends with Regulus. He thought I could talk about Regulus dating other girls. He had no idea.
“Go home, Mia. Don’t stay out here alone,” he yelled over his shoulder.
I blinked back tears as he disappeared. Realization blasted me. He didn’t know I was in love with Regulus. That my feelings hadn’t changed. And what would the IIA plan for me if they knew? If people regularly had moments of clarity like this, they’d solve world hunger and find a cure for cancer. Or quit persecuting innocent girls like the unauthorized dimension traveler in Arizona’s grip.
Quit making bad life choices.
I knew what I needed to do. If I were smart, I’d walk away from the friend zone and never look back.
2
Jingle Bells
I detested planned surprises.
I could read the expectation in the air from the shimmery orange vibe that glowed like a Cheetos binge gone bad.
A few months ago, my friends had discovered my secret. The secret I’d hidden so teachers and doctors wouldn’t treat me like an amped up sensory perception freak. So friends wouldn’t ask.
Synesthesia. The condition sounded like the name of an electronic punk band. I’d made the full round of emotions about my sensory perception and being able to find portals. First, I’d hid it like you hide an ugly rash. Later, I’d learned to trust my friends with my secret. I’d even embraced it.
Now, I was back to wishing for normal.
Working with Regulus and Arizona was like playing Pop Goes the Weasel—a surprise around every corner. And did I mention I hate surprises?
Give me predictable any day. Then I could be ready. It’s why I made sure I knew the contents of every box under the Christmas tree.
I tore the green foil paper from the side of the gift box and I forced that wow-you-didn’t, happy look on my face. Dad had bought a new gaming system for me.
“Oh, Dad. You shouldn’t have. Really. It’s too much.”
He arched a single brow. “You don’t like it.” His suspicious tone accused me.
I rose from the sofa and walked over to his recliner. I did the jazz hands and added more enthusiasm to my voice. “No. I love, love, love it.” It was the peppy, exaggerated enthusiasm I reserved only for him and my best friends. “See?” I gave him a bear hug.
“I didn’t know what to get you and I thought you might be tired of Pete’s hand-me-down gaming systems.” He still wore the tight smile that came with talking about my older brother who’d left home and never returned. The son that he might never see again.
This Christmas, the mention of Pete didn’t make my stomach clench and feel like it held a thick doughy knot deep in the center. I knew my missing brother was alive even if my dad didn’t. My dad’s pained expression prompted me to try harder and smile bigger. He couldn’t know the truth. It was too dangerous.
“Well, you know me and it’s about time I had a PlayStation that wasn’t for sale in the Dark Ages. You’ve mastered Christmas shopping.” I plopped onto the couch.
A gaming system definitely beat last year’s presents—a Christmas sweater, old lady perfume, and teen girl self-help books. Those gifts had gone to the closet netherworld.
“What did Emily get for Christmas?” he aske
d, nonchalance oozing from his words. He pretended to study the collector edition comics I had given him.
I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was using Emily’s presents as a gauge for how well he’d done. Ridiculous. Emily and I were as different as people could get except for the fact that we got each other. Really, truly understood one another.
“The usual. Clothes and more clothes.” I wrinkled my nose to punctuate my feelings about gifts my best friend had received. “Chi iron, new car stereo-”
“Her new car didn’t come with a stereo?”
“Not good enough. She wants stuff that I don’t care about. You know that.”
“I don’t know who would give their kid an iron.” Dad gave a snort and lifted his head a little higher.
I stared at him for a moment, not comprehending. “Chi iron,” I said, holding back a grin that threatened to bubble out. “For straightening hair.”
“Oh.” His chin dropped.
We sat looking at the boxes scattered across the coffee table that encompassed the entirety of our celebration. I thanked goodness Christmas was almost over. It hadn’t been like this when Pete lived at home.
My cairn terrier, Biscuit, gave a little shake of his wheat-colored head and tugged at the paper strewn across the living room floor.
Dad checked his phone. After a moment he thumbed through a magazine on the end table before giving up and tossing it aside. “Why don’t you ask some friends over to play some of these video games? I’ll hook you up to the television while you call.”
I gnawed the corner of my thumbnail. “Nah. Really, Dad. That’s not necessary.”
“I haven’t seen Emily since break started.”
“She can’t come. She’s on grandparent overload. Christmas at their house is a nightmare of Peggy Sue orchestrated festivities.” I rolled my eyes. Em’s mom was a bundle of frenzied holiday energy.