The Watcher (19 page)

“So, Michael, huh? I’m glad. He’s way more your type than Damiel. The bad-boy thing is really only good for exploring the Jungian shadow side of your unconscious.”

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “Jungian what?”

“Carl Jung believed that everyone has a shadow, or dark side to their personality.”

“Oh.” I didn’t think Carl Jung, whoever he was, could explain
Damiel’s
dark side.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, I knew you really liked Michael ever since that day we went on the hike.”

I remembered that day, how his carrying me seemed so close, so intimate that it scared me. Now, I couldn’t get close enough.

“Has he kissed you yet?”

I didn't want to answer her question, but my face gave it all away.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She grinned.

“No,” I said, blushing. “It’s not what you think.” How could I explain how complicated things were? That he and I had been in love before, and I was so in love with him now that it hurt to think about it? If Heather thought there was a chance between us, she’d only look for ways to set us up, and that would only drive him further away.

***

When I didn’t see Michael all morning, I began to worry. If he was still battling hellhounds, there had to be a lot of them. Were other people getting hurt? Was Michael? What if they got to my mom? I thought of her lying on the ground outside our house, unconscious, while those creatures feasted on her flesh. The image haunted me so strongly that when I finally saw Michael in the hallway before last class I rushed up beside him.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“It’s fine.” He leaned toward me and our sides touched. It was electric, and he backed away slightly, as though he felt it too. “We got all the hellhounds, if that’s what you mean.”

I let out the last of my breath, and the knot that had formed in my stomach relaxed.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in again. “Are you okay?”

“I was worried about my mom. You know, in case…”

“She’s fine,” he reassured me. “Arielle and I double-checked your place.”

“Thanks.” Hearing Arielle’s name reminded me of what I wanted to ask him. “Arielle told me what happened to Fiona.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

We reached the door of my Latin class. I lowered my voice, looking around to make sure no one could hear us. “She showed me those minions—parasites, whatever—that get on people, the ones Damiel sent.”

“She showed you that?” he asked.

“Yeah, and I thought maybe we could tell Fiona…”

One of my classmates, a tall, freckled blond guy whose name escaped me, wanted to get in the room. Michael backed me out of the doorway into the hall. “Tell her what, exactly?”

“That it’s not her fault. That she was attacked by something terrible,” I said. “That she didn’t do it to herself.”

“No, Mia. You can’t tell her that. Nobody can know what you know.”

“Why not?
I
know these things.”

He took a moment to consider his answer. Out of the corner of my eye, his halo flashed like paparazzi cameras on Oscar night. “Telling you was a tough decision to make. I did it because you’re different. You already see these things, and if you’d listened to me about Damiel in the first place…”

I stiffened. “That’s the only reason you told me? Because you
had
to? The cat was already out of the bag?”

“It was a sign that I
could
tell you. You were in danger.”

“My friends are in danger, too! I can’t
not
let them know what’s coming at them. How can they fight it?”

A few more students made their way into the room. Class was about to start. I had to get inside. Michael held my arm, quiet and serious. “Believe me. Knowing about these things only makes it worse. I told you—”

“She’s my friend.”

“What do you think would happen if you told her? After everything she’s been through? With all those doctors questioning her?”

Ms. Nelson, my Latin teacher, approached. “Class is starting.” She turned to Michael. “Are you joining us today?”

“Nos iustus postulo paululum,” Michael said.
We just need a moment.
His accent was perfect, his voice a chord.

Nodding, Ms. Nelson backed off and shuffled into class.

“Did you—?”

“I bought us a few minutes,” he said quickly. “What if Fiona says something?”

“She won’t.” I remembered how Elaine found out about Michael rescuing me in the woods. Fiona wasn’t the best at keeping secrets. “They’d think she’s crazy.”

“Yeah, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”

He was right. There was nothing I could say to Fiona to make it all better. The only thing I could do was be her friend, even if that meant hiding something from her. At least it was for her own good.

My cell phone rang, making me jump. I’d thought I’d turned it off. The number was blocked on my call display, but I answered it anyway. From the other end came an inhuman screeching that sent tendrils of ice down my spine. Around my neck, the warding necklace from Fatima twitched.

I was about to hang up when I heard a voice. Tinny and metallic, it sounded dreadfully familiar. “I like it when you wear your hair down. It’s so sexy.”

My breath froze in my chest. “Who is this?”

Beside me, Michael tensed. My phone was loud enough that he could hear everything.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already,” Damiel’s voice purred on the other end of the phone. “I haven’t forgotten you.” I pictured his eyes the last time I’d seen him, the way they shone that terrible red. But then he was in a body—Giulio’s body.

Could he
see
me? Right now? “I thought you were gone.”

“Oh, you mean what Michael did?” He laughed—a cold, evil sound. Behind his voice, I could still hear the screeching. “It takes more than that to get rid of me.”

Michael clasped his hands behind his head and turned away. “Just hang up,” he said.

“Tell Michael to remember who he’s dealing with.”

“Leave us alone!” I said and hung up.

Michael muttered something under his breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was cursing.

My hands shook, so I clasped them together. “Is he back?”

“If he was back, he wouldn’t bother to call,” Michael said. “He’d just show up.”

“He said something about my hair.” I shuddered, remembering the sound of his voice. “Can he
see
us?”

“No, but the hellhounds saw you this morning and he works closely with them. They’re his eyes and ears. He’s messing with your head.”

“I thought he was in Hell. How did he call—?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “He could have intercepted an incoming call.”

“Can he
do
that?” I asked. A terrified, crazed animal paced in my chest. I wanted to run as far and as fast as my legs would take me, but they’d turned to liquid beneath me.

Noticing my reaction, he backed me into a locker so I could lean against it. I pressed my fingers into the metal behind me until they hurt.

“You mustn’t be afraid,” he said. “He won’t get anywhere near you. I won’t let him.” The halls now empty, we were alone. In the background, I could hear Ms. Nelson starting the class, but Michael stood so close I didn’t care about being late. He let out his breath slowly. “I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

“You didn’t,” I said.

“Oh, but I did.” He slid his hands to the sides of my head, stroking my hair. It was meant to be comforting, but my spine melted from his touch. Leaning his forehead into mine, he whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Chapter Eighteen

The next few days were almost normal.

At school, I marveled at how Michael passed for perfectly human. Nobody else could see the intermittent flashing of his halo or the vague outline of his wings. The fact that I knew what he really looked like was an intimate secret between us, almost like seeing him naked would be. Okay, nowhere near as good as
that
. But I was beginning to enjoy it.

Elaine published an article on her blog saying I broke Damiel’s heart and rejected him for Michael and that’s what made him go away. The article upset me a lot more than it did Michael, who just ignored it, but he wasn’t the one being called the next whore of Babylon—something I had to look up the meaning of online. The girls who liked Damiel gave me dirty looks in the hallway. It made me almost wish Damiel would come back, as long as he left me alone.

At night, Michael watched out for me, but kept his distance like I was some kind of VIP and he was my angelic security service. Though they’d cleaned up the hellhound problem, something was worrying him. Something he didn’t want me to know.

Fiona came back to school on Wednesday, and Heather and I stayed close. We wanted things to be as normal as possible and she didn’t need people gossiping or staring at her. At least Elaine didn’t print anything in the school paper, which, for Elaine, was actually decent.

I was on my way to lunch with Michael when I noticed Fiona alone at her locker fumbling with her books. She dropped one, and as soon as she went to pick it up another one fell. She didn’t seem depressed this time, but a few people were chuckling at her while they gossiped amongst themselves. I could tell it made her uncomfortable.

“We should go talk to her,” I said to him. “Take her to lunch.”

“Wait a sec,” he said. When I gave him a questioning look, he added, “You’ll see.”

“Are you going to wave a magic wand or something and make it all better?”

He whispered in my ear, “I’m an angel, not a fairy godmother.” The heat of his breath traveled all the way down my neck, and I had to fight the urge to press myself against him.

Arielle appeared in the hallway. At first I thought she might say something to us, but other than giving Michael a nod, she walked right past. “Hey,” I said, lifting my hand to wave at her.

Michael caught my hand. “Shhh,” he said, his voice barely a whisper in the noisy hallway. “Don’t draw attention to her; she’s working. It’s going to help.”

“We’re the only ones who can see her right now?” I felt utterly foolish.
Of course she was working. She doesn’t go to school.

If anybody else had seen me, they’d already moved on. Arielle approached Fiona and touched her arm. Fiona didn’t seem to notice, but this was how it worked. Arielle would whisper words of kindness, unseen, and Fiona would start feeling better. She’d already brightened. A smile crossed her lips.

Michael squeezed my hand and led me down the hall to the cafeteria. It was amazing how much it meant to me, this simple touch, showing that he cared.

We arrived at Heather and Jesse’s table and he let my hand go. If they saw us holding hands, they didn’t say anything. Michael and I acted like friends but they must have noticed the way I behaved around him, the way my breath would catch whenever our eyes met, or the way my skin would burn if he stood or sat too close.

“May I join you?” It was Farouk. He had a girl with him. Her dark brown eyes were so intense they seemed to look right through me.

“Is this Fatima?” I asked.

“Hello, Mia,” she said. Although Farouk hadn’t mentioned it, she was a junior, the same year as him—which meant they must be twins. Her accent was less pronounced than her brother’s, but she had the same curly black hair—only hers was long and wild, giving her an exotic beauty.

“Your hair is gorgeous,” I said.

“Thanks.” She tugged at one of her curls, examining it. “It needs a trim.”

“I’m glad to have a chance to finally thank you for the necklace,” I said.

“You’re most welcome.” She grinned at me, then leaned forward to ask, “Did it help?”

I recalled having Damiel at my door, the hellhounds around my house, and the way the necklace had vibrated each time, some kind of warning. It must have been letting me know when I was in danger. “Yes, it did.”

“You might not need it so much now.” She glanced knowingly at Michael, who was chatting with Jesse. “But you never know.”

Could she see Michael, too? The way I did? I didn’t know how to ask without giving away his secret, so I kept quiet, almost awkwardly so, and looked out the window at the rain that wasn’t letting up.

Fatima and Farouk finished lunch early because they had to study for a biology exam. They left as the topic changed to our weekend plans.

“Hey, this weekend Kevin Foster’s parents are out of town and he’s throwing a big party,” Jesse said.

“How big?” Heather asked.

“Everyone’s invited. He’s got a huge place,” he said, looking at all of us. “You guys should come.”

I was eating a chicken salad that seemed oilier than usual. It slid down my throat and sat in my stomach like a lump.

“Who’s Kevin Foster?” I asked, not sure I wanted to go to a stranger’s party.

“He’s in his junior year at Sealth,” Jesse answered, then turned to Michael. “You remember his brother Dave? His parties?”

“Yes,” Michael said, gazing out over the cafeteria, absently keeping watch.

“Dude, you should come. It’ll be awesome.”

“Don’t think so.”

“Chloe will be disappointed.” Jesse gave him a suggestive smile.

Michael shot Jesse a look that silenced him. Jesse’s gaze darted quickly in my direction and then fixed on the table in front of him.

Who was Chloe?

Michael shifted in his seat and squeezed a packet of ketchup onto his plate. He had hardly touched his burger. I was going to ask right then and there who Chloe was, since everyone at the table seemed to know something about her. But Fiona and Dean joined us, holding hands, and Heather took the opportunity to break the awkward silence by chatting with them. Michael excused himself quietly and left.

For the rest of lunch, I listened to Heather and Jesse chat about the upcoming party with Fiona and Dean. I felt more out of place than ever. While Heather managed to look mystified—she didn’t know anything about Chloe—Jesse ignored me. It was as though the space I occupied no longer existed. As soon as lunch was over, he took off.