The Watcher (26 page)

Of course.
If an angel is on duty and disconnects from the network
, Arielle had said,
we have to check in
. It was creepy to even think about how visible we were.

Michael’s shoulders tensed but he kept kissing me, ignoring her, and the intensity shot up between us. I tried to stop but couldn’t. I was drawn into him, as though we were one being separated only by skin.

“Michael,” she said again more insistently.

“Go away,” he replied, his voice surprisingly cold, a stark contrast to the warmth from his kiss. He didn’t stop.

“Are you insane?” she asked. “You’ve been called. You
must
go.”

He kissed my throat, the side of my neck, as one of his hands stroked the side of my waist. I didn’t want him to stop. But he had to. “Michael,” I whispered between labored breaths. “She’s right.”

I started to sit up, but he held me down. His voice with me was soft, soothing, his breath hot on my skin. “It’s okay. She’ll leave soon.”

“Michael!” she bellowed, her voice a trumpet blast.

He stopped kissing me and sighed impatiently. “I’ve got to stay with her.”

With her arms folded over her chest, Arielle looked furious. I sure wouldn’t want to cross her. “Disobeying a direct order? Tell me I didn’t get brought into this so you could fall again.”

“It’s just another peripheral attack. Can’t you see? It’s a ruse. Damiel will be back, and who’s going to watch over her?”

“Can’t
you
see? You can’t do it.” She motioned to his position on the couch. “Not like this.” Her voice, still a chorus, was steady and calm, a contrast to Michael’s agitation.

“Why not?”

“You know why not.” She moved into him and, with inhuman force, pulled him off of me.

His temper exploded with the force of an air gun. He shook himself free of her grasp and raised a hand instinctively, like he was going to strike. I held my breath.

Fearless and ferocious, she continued, “You’re weak. You’re not in the network. There’s no power without your connection. Without it, Damiel will eat you alive! What will happen to Mia then?”

The golden glow of her halo flamed brightly even in my well-lit living room. It burst from her in a ripple of light that rushed Michael, igniting his own halo. His hand fell and he blinked at her as though waking from being drugged.

“You’ve been called. You must go. You’re needed.”

He motioned to me. “Who will watch Mia?”

“I will. She’ll be safe, I promise,” Arielle said.

He nodded slowly, accepting his task. “If anything happens to her…”

“It won’t.”

I sat up and pulled on my shirt, flattered by the fact that he looked a little sad to see me cover myself up. “I’ll be fine. Arielle knows what she’s doing.”

“Been at it a while now,” she added and threw his singlet at him.

He put it on. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I know.”

I hugged him goodbye, my body aching to be with him. Knowing he felt it too, that he could feel me, I pulled away. He hesitated a moment, gazing at my lips, compelling me to kiss him, but if I started again we wouldn’t stop. So I turned away and he left.

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” I said to Arielle, who was standing in the living room calming herself.

“He should be.”

“I mean he won’t fall again because of tonight?”

Her clear golden eyes revealed nothing. “I’ve got to go straighten out another mess. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while. If you need me, call, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She didn’t say anything, but her look acknowledged me before she left.

Standing up, I noticed that my legs were wobbly and my body still pulsed with desire. It had never been this intense before—like a drug—not even that first time we’d kissed. After being so close to him just moments before, Michael’s absence now almost hurt. I was cold and lonely in a whole new way. Was this the enthrallment I’d been warned about? Or was it just love?

Beneath it all, I was agitated from my afternoon: Damiel’s note, and then the Tarot reading—that Devil card plagued me. It seemed the longer Michael and I were together, the more likely it was that I would cause him to fall—or at least stray from what he was here to do. Knowing he could feel my feelings meant he would know how much I wanted him—which in itself was too strange to even consider. How long could I be close to him without causing a disaster? I couldn’t bear to be with him and not be close, and I couldn’t bear to be without him.

Grabbing my iPod from my purse, I found the loudest, angriest song I could. I didn’t care that it was after ten, that the neighbors were likely asleep. I hooked it into the stereo and put it on repeat with the volume loud enough for the bass to pound against my chest. Retrieving Michael’s jacket from my room, I used it as a pillow and lay on the living room floor as close as I could get to the speakers, the heavy pulsing beat filling the lonely hole in my chest. Tears flooded down my face.

I don’t know how long I lay there or how many times the same song repeated. Vibrating through the floorboards of the old house, the music was so loud I didn’t notice Arielle standing there until the music shut off.

“Hey! Put it back on!” I said, getting up.

Her halo blazed around her as she approached me with the grace of a cat. “I didn’t need to even try to sneak up on you…”

“So?”

“Dear one,” she said, her voice a musical and soothing balm, “I bring you a message.”

“From Michael?” I stood up. “Is he okay?”

“No. Think higher up than that.”

“Oh, so now God’s going to order me to stay away from one of His angels?”

“Not at all.” Arielle’s smile was kind. “Will you hear it?”

Her halo had grown so bright it was hard to look at her. I nodded, my chest tightening. I realized I was afraid to know what God had to say to me. What could He possibly want from me other than for me to get lost? No wonder. I had obviously messed things up for Michael before.

“You know Damiel is coming back.”

“Yes.”

“And you know he wants you for some reason.”

“I know.”

“Sure enough. But what you do not know is
how
Damiel will hurt Michael.”

“How?”

“He’s going to exploit Michael’s weaknesses. He’s going to use his past and make him believe he’s unforgivable. That’s Michael’s ultimate weakness. He can’t forgive himself for his past, and it started with what he did to you.”

“What did he do to me that was so horrible?” I said, reaching back in my memory for some kind of glimpse of what happened.

“We’d hoped that by spending time with you, Michael’s memories would return on their own. The only other witnesses are on the wrong side to be of any help.”

“Which leaves me as the only witness.” I sat on the couch.

“Exactly. We were wrong about Damiel. If you’re the only witness, it makes no sense for him to force your memories back…
unless
he was trying to short-circuit you and destroy those memories altogether.”

It took me a moment to process all she had said. “My memories are that important?”

“Yes. Very. We need you to remember what happened so that Michael can forgive himself before it’s too late.”

“How do I do that?”

“I have an idea.” She came over to sit beside me on the couch and her halo tingled beside me. It blazed much stronger than Michael’s.

“Does it involve going through that network again?”

“No, we need to tap into your memories,” she said, rolling up the sleeves of her beige jacket. “It’ll be different this time. Hold still and, no matter what, keep breathing, okay?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

When she placed her scorching hands on my head, a brilliant white light erupted through my brain like sheet lightning. I couldn’t help but gasp.

“I know it’s warm, but it won’t do any damage. Just keep breathing.”

“As if I’m going to stop,” I said, but I focused on my breath anyway.

My mind blanked as though it were rebooting, obliterating any thoughts I had about what we were doing or what would happen next. An exploding fireworks display of colors and images followed, pictures that came so fast I couldn’t make sense of them. I winced, inhaling sharply as a piercing pain shot between my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Nice, deep breaths. This will pass too.” The resonant tones of her voice echoed right through me.

I closed my eyes,  the sound of her voice guiding me until the pain subsided, and a tunnel of brilliant golden light presented itself. I followed it until I saw Michael. Sitting on a roughly-carved wooden stool, he watched as I took wildflowers from my hair and placed them in a bowl of water, their silken petals limp between my fingers. We were inside the same house I’d had visions of before, and through its small round holes for windows, stars sparkled in the night sky. Next to us stood a table covered with dried fruits and cheeses left over from a feast, from some kind of celebration—our wedding.

Michael stood, his full height almost to the ceiling, and held out his hand to me. He spoke a different language, but somehow I understood it.

“Come to bed—wife.” The corners of his lips curled into a smile filled with desire and the promise of such pleasure that my skin flushed even remembering it.

Was this it? Was this what he was forbidden to do? Marry me?

But in that life, I smiled and danced, twirling around him and humming a tune from that time as I meandered toward our bed. Light from the fire flickered in the blackness of his eyes. He was different then. Even though his face held all the signs of his beauty, it was shadowed by a sadness that I hadn’t seen in him before, as if his glory had dimmed somehow. But in that moment I didn’t notice. I was focused on him, fueled as much by his desire as by my own. When I was close to the bed, he grabbed my arms, raising them above my head, and kissed me hungrily, without restraint, and a rush of passion flowed through me.

From what Michael had suggested about our past, I would have expected a wild disrobing or something forced at this part, but this was gentle, beautiful. It was strange to have a full memory of something I hadn’t done in this lifetime. I couldn’t see myself but saw it through my own eyes, as though it were happening to me, which it did. Even back then, the chemistry between us was incredible, and though it was only a memory my body responded.

Grappling for self-control, knowing that it wasn’t actually happening in the moment, that I wasn’t alone, I nervously pushed the memory aside, hoping Arielle couldn’t see it. At least Michael wasn’t with me. I would have jumped him for sure.

Next, I saw us waking with the sunrise, naked on a bed of furs, Michael peaceful as he slept. Scars ran down the length of his back where his wings had once been.

Like being startled awake, I snapped out of the memory with a pounding heart, a dry mouth, and sweaty palms. Arielle’s hands rested on my shoulders as she searched my face for an answer.

“Could you see what I saw?” I said.

She shook her head. “I could only see you were getting memories and feel your feelings.”

“
All
my feelings?” I cringed, thinking that some things should be private.

“You were so in love.”

“Still am,” I muttered under my breath.

Arielle hugged me. “Human love is frightening and tempestuous, but it can be beautiful, I’ll give it that.”

“I don’t understand what Michael did that was so wrong.”

“What did you see?”

“Our wedding night,” I began, then explained the image as clearly as I could, leaving out the personal, embarrassing details. Arielle asked me if I was forced or in pain at any point, but I wasn’t. There was nothing in that memory that I didn’t want to hold onto. It was beautiful and I would cherish it. “He slept. He told me that angels never slept.”

“That’s because he’d fallen,” she explained. “Angels were forbidden to mate with humans. Breaking our laws would drain him—make him mortal—so he had to be careful. Those who continued to fall would steal people’s life force in order to survive.”

“You mean Damiel?”

She nodded pensively. “Would you be willing to look again? Perhaps a different memory?”

“Yes. But I’m thirsty,” I said, and got up to pour myself a glass of orange juice. The muscles all over my body were strained and achy. My legs wobbled, so on my way back from the kitchen I stopped to stretch them out. As I bent forward and clasped my hands behind my back, one of my ribs popped back into place at least, but the pain in my muscles frustrated me.

“What you’re remembering isn’t coming from your mind in this life. It’s coming from your soul. I’m taking you so far into your soul’s past that your mind can’t process it, so it resists with physical pain. You may also experience fatigue or anger,” Arielle said, smiling kindly at me. “You’re doing really well.”

“How will this ever help Michael?”

“Are you ready to try again?” she asked. “You’ll be perfectly safe. I’ll be right here.”

“Yes.” I tried to not betray the sense of anticipation that welled inside me.

When she placed her hands on my head again, the heat was less intense than before. The images came as soon as I closed my eyes.

This time, I saw more of the ancient city where we used to live. It was near the sea. A huge sandstone wall surrounded it like a fortress, and in the center of the city was a great sandstone ziggurat. The house I lived in was on a farm near the edge of the city. It belonged to my family. Not sure where to go next, I thought about Michael.

Next thing I knew, I was in the woods outside the city walls. Michael stood before me wearing a long robe, and his downy white wings glowed behind him in the shade of the trees. Physically, he was huge. The top arc of his wings reached a good two feet above his own head, compounding his size as he towered over me. Seeing him filled me with a mixture of dread and awe that drove me to my knees. My breath came in gasps and I was dizzyingly afraid, astounded by this wondrous creature.