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The Watcher
By
Lisa Voisin
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”
The Watcher
Copyright © 2013 Lisa Voisin
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: (Print) 978-0-9856562-2-5
ISBN-13: (ebook) 978-0-9856562-1-8
Inkspell Publishing
5764 Woodbine Ave.
Pinckney, MI 48169
Edited By . Rie Langdon
Cover art By Najla Qamber
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, sca
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900872
Praise for The Watcher:
Voisin's story builds in strength, easing readers into Mia's first encounter with another realm and drawing them on, inescapably, to the shocking discovery at the novel's heart. Inventive, romantic, and filled with tension, this is a great start to an intriguing series. --A.M. Dellamonica, author of INDIGO SPRINGS and BLUE MAGIC.—wi
"Perfect for fans of angels and demons, Lisa Voisin has created an uplifting tale of redemption, love, and spirituality that gives hope. Never preachy, The Watcher is the perfect answer to critics who claim Young Adult literature is too dark."--Stephanie Lawton, author of Want and Shrapnel
"Voisin's THE WATCHER blends paranormal mystery and romance into a book that is sure to keep readers turning the pages late into the night."--Eileen Cook, author of THE ALMOST TRUTH
“Filled with forbidden love and a war between good and evil. If you are a fan of the Twilight Saga and The Mortal Instrument series, you will love this book.”--Selena Lost in Thought
"This book was amazing and grabbed me from the very first chapter."--Angie Stanton-Johnson at Twinsie Talk Book Reviews
“[A] deliciously captivating story, that definitely earned FIVE STARS! “--Iris, from Booksessions
DEDICATION
For Matthew
Chapter One
I’d never seen a dead body before.
The man lay on the ground near an uprooted tree stump with his face turned away. His tangled gray hair glimmered like ancient pewter in the late summer sun. He wore plaid pants with muddy cuffs and leather shoes split with holes. His tattered brown coat, stained from years of wear, was far too warm for daytime. Had he been here all night?
Was he even breathing? Somebody should check. But since I was alone in the middle of a park, at the intersection of two heavily-wooded trails, “somebody” meant me.
If he were dead, his skin would be cold, but I didn’t want to touch him to find out. I couldn’t help him if he needed serious medical attention. I couldn’t even call 9-1-1. My cell phone was dead on the sofa at home. If only I could call Mom at the hospital. She’d know what to do.
He could be sleeping. I watched for the rise and fall of his chest. Either it wasn’t moving or my mind was playing tricks on me. I pulled a tissue from my purse and leaned over to place it in front of his nose. Loud cawing startled me. I vaulted, staggered over the man, and almost fell right on top of him.
Behind me, a crow landed on a high cedar branch and fluffed its shiny black wings.
“Stupid crow.” I turned back to the man.
The air chilled. Hoarfrost trickled down my spine, and over the aroma of cedar and damp earth I smelled rotten eggs. Covering my nose, I backed away.
A sharp pain pulsed behind my eyes, followed by a high-pitched hum. Squinting, I saw a hazy shadow appear over the man, the kind you see when clouds pass over the sun.
The shadow started to move, undulating at first, then roiling and twisting into a heavy smoke that grew darker, more substantial. Inky blackness folded in on itself like boiled tar, forming first a head, then a muzzle as the darkness stretched out into a neck…body…four legs.
What kind of shadow does this?
Then it growled.
My stomach clenched into a tiny fist, and a voice inside me shouted: Run.Now!
I sprinted down one of the trails, sca
I stopped. Listened. Heard my own breathing and the whooshing of cars from the main road. In the distance, seagulls screeched at each other. Closer were more crows. Perhaps it was safe.
With a sudden crashing of leaves, the shadowy creature bounded through the underbrush, baring its teeth. Solid now, and huge, it was bigger than any dog, with fur so black as to absorb the light and red eyes that glowed like lasers. I tried to scream, but the air had been sucked from my lungs. I made only a dry rasp.
My heart hammering against my ribs, I pressed through a wall of branches to an open clearing and made a dash for it. The creature was on my heels, but then it flickered and faded back into the shadows like a ghost.
Looking for it, I twisted and tripped, bashing my knee. The creature melted out from the branches. Would shadow teeth hurt as bad as real ones?
I tried to get up, but my muscles trembled and refused to work. White static erased my thoughts.
As the creature slowly edged closer, sure of its prey, I closed my eyes, sucked in my breath, and, finally, screamed.
A blinding flash against my eyelids silenced me, so I kept my eyes closed. I heard a strange muttering, a chorus of male and female voices, layers of tones speaking all at once. They were clouded by static.
“Report.”
“A breach. I think it’s torn.”
“Well, seal it.”
“There’s a girl… No—it can’t be!”
“We should go.”
The voices stopped. A silent wind rushed over me, like a tickling of feathers against my skin. When I opened my eyes, everything around me had calmed. The sun shone brightly overhead and the park was empty. The shadowy creature was gone.
I gulped air into my aching lungs, waiting.
Across the clearing, at least forty yards away, stood a tall figure in a gray T-shirt and jeans. At that distance, I couldn’t tell how old he was. All I could make out was dark hair, a strong jaw, and the fact that he was staring right at me.
I nearly hollered at him, but stopped. For all I knew, he could be some kind of stalker who followed girls into the park. Or worse. Maybe the shadowy dog was his.
Who the hell are you? I thought.
The guy jolted as though I’d startled him.
Had he heard me? I hadn’t said a word.
Instead of speaking, he turned and walked away.
As I got up, brushing the wet grass off my sore knee and legs, I realized I was shaking. All I had were questions. The body I’d found—who was that? What had just happened? What was that horrible creature? How did it just disappear?