The Watcher

He let out his breath as though I’d punched him. “Over?”

Even in pain, he was beautiful. Tilting his chin back, he gazed at me with eyes that were as clear and blue as a cloudless summer sky, and from that angle he seemed more angelic than ever.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I needed to keep him safe. If Damiel was after me because of how I felt for Michael, I’d have to remove myself from the equation, show Damiel I didn’t care. I would run away, catch a flight to Oakland, and stay with Bill in Berkeley. I had enough in my savings to do it. Damiel wouldn’t expect that. Even if he did, if he got me, that was one thing. I’d be far away and Michael wouldn’t be anywhere near us. He wouldn’t have to feel responsible for what happened this time. He wouldn’t have to die.

I turned toward the fireplace and mustered up the courage to speak. “You should go now.”

“Mia.”

“Leave!” I yelled at him.

He touched my shoulder gently, and the warmth and strength of his hand seeped through the thin fabric of my shirt. “At least let me protect you.”

Despite how cruel I was being, he was still trying to help, which only made it worse. The effervescent fire of his halo enveloped me, bathing us both in golden light. I shook it off and faced him again. I had to be strong. “I don’t want you near me.”

The light dimmed. “You don’t know what danger you’re in.”

I wanted to say I don’t care! Just stay safe yourself. But he didn’t seem to care how much danger he was in. “Let Arielle do it. I don’t want you around.”

He paled and took a step back. “You don’t want this. I can feel it.”

He could tell I was lying. Damn him for feeling what I felt! Since I couldn’t change that, I had to use his own laws against him to end it now. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, attempting to block him out. Even if pushing him away made me cold and empty inside, it was nothing compared to how I’d feel if he were dead. If anything happened to him because of me.

“Aren’t you supposed to respect a person’s free will—no matter what?”

He watched me as though I was dealing him a death blow.

Unable to look at him and do what I needed to do next, I turned away. “Then respect mine.”

At that, he didn’t argue, and I didn’t turn back to see if my daggers hit. I was sure they did. I could feel them as though they had pierced my own heart.

“Fine,” he muttered.

Then the coldness inside me took over as I listened to the sound of his footsteps walking out the door.

***

I went through the rest of the day like a robot, or some other creature without a heart. Knowing I’d cut it out myself only made it worse. Cold and spent, I had a scalding hot shower that didn’t touch the icicles that had formed inside my chest. When Mom woke up, I put on a brave face and made di

I kept the TV on so we wouldn’t have to talk. I didn’t want her to guess anything was wrong, that I was pla

Even though everything was dulled by my grief, there was no way things could work between Michael and me. Before, all the obstacles we had between us didn’t seem real, as though we could be okay if we played it safe. Being together felt right. But now, my feelings for him couldn’t be reason enough, not when his life was at stake. I had to do whatever I could to keep him away from Damiel. Leaving Michael. Leaving town. They were the right things to do. I had to do them. I was sure of it.

When di

Then the news a

Anxious to get going, I pulled my suitcase out of the closet and laid it open on my bed. I was folding my favorite pair of jeans when the doorbell rang. I froze, thinking that if it was Michael, there was no way I could say no to him again. But it wasn’t.

“I know you’re in there.” The cruel, familiar voice sent icicles down my spine. “Let me in.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I didn’t open the door, for all the good it did me. Even though it was locked and bolted, it blasted open like it had been hit by a hurricane. Standing in front of me was someone I hoped I’d never see again. He looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him, which meant he’d re-possessed Giulio.

Damiel pressed his hand through the open doorway, and a faint blue arcing light flared and fizzled around it. “Sigils,” he said. “Useless.”

Instinctively, I stepped back. He laughed, and the sound was colder than I remembered, more sinister. He crossed the threshold slowly, purposefully, as though he knew there was nothing I could do to get away. Unfortunately I knew it too.

“What kind of welcome is that for a friend?” he chided, “especially one you’ve known as long as me?”

“You’re hardly a friend!”

“Now, now. We had a date.” He moved in closer to take my arm in his.

I pulled my arm away, trying not to freak out. “Leave me alone!”

“I don’t know why you won’t give me a chance.”

“Because you’re evil.” I backed away from him and hit the coffee table. It hurt, but I didn’t want to let on. Damiel grabbed me before I lost my balance.

“Evil,” he said. “I don’t think you get me at all.”

“Well, if you’re not evil, then leave.”

His mouth twisted into a sneer and he came in so close I had to crane my neck to look up at him. Not wanting to fall into the coffee table, I held my ground.

“Why would I do that, sweetness?” he said. “We’re old friends. We go way back.”

When he called me sweetness, my skin crawled a little. “Friends? You hurt Michael, cut off his wings!”

“That was punishment for his crime. But, while we’re pointing fingers, you’re the one who seduced him. He fell because of you. No one can hurt him the way you can, Mia.”

When I was seven, I fell off my bicycle and broke my arm. I screamed so much on the way to the hospital that Mom gave me half a Valium to calm me down. I felt that way now. Something inside me was screaming, but the intensity wasn’t there. My reasoning was muddied now, my mind fuzzy. “You killed him.”

The doubt must have shown on my face because he continued, “That was too easy. Not only had he given up Heaven to be with you, but when you died you took away everything he cared about. He was willing to do anything to forget you—anything we told him to do—and a few things of his own that were far from angelic.” Damiel smiled in recollection, actually smiled. “Falling took most of his soul, but you destroyed the rest.”

Knowing he had me hooked now, he wandered toward the fireplace. Picking up the fire poker, his hands caressed the brass handle meditatively. I held my breath. So easily, it could be used as a weapon—one well-landed blow and I’d be dead. Without a word, he turned his attention back to me and casually waved his free hand in my direction. A strange dark smoke filled the air as he put the poker down, and the room began to spin. Instinctively I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself.