The Watcher

“Arielle?” I asked. At the mention of her name, I had a twinge of envy.

“Sure. We work together.”

So Arielle was a Grigori too. That explained a lot: her otherworldly beauty, the flickering lights that day in the café, and even the way the shadows—hellhounds—disappeared. “She’s not your girlfriend?”

“No,” he said, scrunching his nose. “It’s not like that.”

A knot in my chest relaxed. It had formed the moment I first saw them together at the movie theatre, but I’d become so used to the feeling I’d forgotten it was there.

Next thing I knew he was outside the car, opening my door. As I got out, I accidentally brushed his arm, and the draw to be near him was so strong I had to lean back against the metal to steady myself. Then, as if in answer to a silent prayer, he wrapped his arms around me and closed the distance between us.

Pressing his lips to the crown of my head, he breathed the words “I missed you” into my hair, softly, as though it were a secret that only I was meant to hear. Then, letting his arms drop, he stepped away.

All the lights were on when I got in the door and the house smelled of pine cleaner. Mom scrubbed the kitchen counter with the TV on, trying not to look like she was waiting up for me. From the looks of it, she’d cleaned the whole house.

She greeted me cheerfully, focused on removing a spot from the counter. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to be understated. She seemed different to me now, still my mom, and yet not the same. Perhaps I was the one who had changed.

Realizing I was still wearing Michael’s jacket, I hung it up in the hall closet before she could notice.

“He likes you,” she commented.

“Mom,” I said. “So not ready to talk about it.” And I didn’t just mean my date. The things Michael told me—that I remembered—shook me. I’d lived another lifetime before.

Mom didn’t let up. “There’s something really good about him.”

I stifled a wry smile. “Angelic, even?” If she only knew!

“No, honey. Men are never angels,” she said sagely. “Besides, it’s the devil in them that we love.”

Before she could ask any more questions, I kissed her goodnight and went to my room just so I could be alone. I doubted I’d be able to sleep. Every idea I had about my world was being challenged. Demons were real and came here to hurt people. The strange creature that chased me that morning in the park was a hellhound, and Damiel—who was a demon—had sent it to find me. Michael was a Grigori—an angel—albeit in rehab, and I’d shared a life with him thousands of years ago.

As soon as I closed my eyes, memories of the night flooded my mind with dizzying speed: Damiel at my door surrounded by black sooty shadows, Michael fighting him with the blue sword in his hand. I wanted to know more about the past, who I was back then, what had happened to me. To us. Had I lived other lifetimes since? But no matter how hard I tried, my present-day memories wouldn’t give way.

An hour later I lay in bed still awake, shivering. It wasn’t from the cold, because I’d already cranked the heat up and covered myself with every blanket in the house. The only thing that helped was thinking about Michael. I remembered the warmth of his arms around me as he hugged me goodbye, and a flush of restlessness flowed through me.

With Mom now in bed, the house was quiet and still. I crept out of my room to the hall closet and retrieved his jacket. I got back into bed and laid it beside me, enjoying the comfort of its smell. This time when I closed my eyes, I remembered the feel of his arms around me, the sound of his beating heart, and with these memories I relaxed easily into a deep sleep.

***

I awoke well-rested. Sunlight streamed through my bedroom curtains, filling my room with a peaceful, warm glow. My phone was crammed with text messages from both Heather and Fiona, asking how my date went. I replied with a quick Good—I’ll tell you later which must have had them thinking Damiel was still around. But I couldn’t explain his disappearance, or even the fact that he was a demon. When I got out of bed, Mom had already made a pancake breakfast, so we ate together in front of the TV. Mercifully, she was focused on getting ready for a mid-shift at the hospital and didn’t ask about my date.

Shortly after she left for work, Bill called my cell.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I tried calling and all I got was static. Then I called back and some guy answered.”

“Just now?” I asked, sitting on the couch. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Yeah. Said he was expecting you.”

I shivered in spite of myself. “Weird. What else did he say?”

“Nothing. The line cut out, so I called back and got you.”

For a brief moment, I wondered what it could have been. Was it just a wrong number or something else? But Bill changed the subject. “You know that guy you asked me about…”

My throat constricted. With everything that had been going on, I’d completely forgotten. “Damiel?”

“Yeah. I checked him out. He’s got no birth records, no school records. There aren’t even any death records for him. This guy is totally off the grid. Technically, he doesn’t exist.”

Of course he didn’t exist. He was a demon. A wave of panic pushed at me, but I fought to stay calm. “Wow,” I said. “You checked all that?”

“Yeah, of course.”

What if Damiel knew Bill was looking into him? I didn’t know all he was capable of, but I knew he was dangerous. “Can anyone tell that you did all that? I mean, you won’t get caught, will you?”

“Gee, paranoid much? Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about you?” I could hear the tapping of his fingers on the keyboard. Always multitasking. “Who is this guy?”

“Nobody. Forget about him.” The idea of Damiel getting anywhere near Bill terrified me. “Please?”

Bill stopped typing and when he spoke, he sounded worried. “Hey. He’s not bothering you, is he?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

“Stay away from this guy, Mia. I mean it. He sounds like a scumbag.”

If he only knew. “I will,” I said. “I promise.”

A few minutes after Bill and I hung up, the doorbell rang, startling me. Still a little creeped out from my conversation about Damiel, I peeked out the kitchen window and saw Michael.

“Hi,” I said. Rushing to open the door and hug him, I buried my face against his chest and felt the softness of his light gray sweater against my cheek.

“Hey.” Caught off guard, he chuckled, but his body was stiff as he put an arm around me. Was he nervous? “I thought we could finish that walk we started last night. While the rain holds off.”

Chapter Fifteen

He took me to Alki Beach, partly because it was close and partly because it was one of the best places in the area to walk. I liked it there. I especially liked being there with him. By daylight, I could see out over Puget Sound, where the choppy gray water reflected the storm clouds above.

He was right about the rain. It looked as though it would come down any minute, and when I stepped from the car the cold air smelled of ocean, seaweed, and evergreens as it filled my nose. With the exception of a few joggers, the beach was deserted. The tide was low, and acres of rocks, teeming with marine life, stretched out along the shore.

Some of the nearby trees had already started to turn. Half-ochre, half-green, their leaves had dried around the edges, holding onto the memory of life. Others had fallen to the ground. As we walked, Michael seemed to notice them too.

“What was I like? You know…before?” I asked. “Was I different?”

When he turned to me, his eyes were the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and they had a way of looking at me that made me feel equally vast and deep. “What do you remember?”