Watcher: Book I of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  “No, he hasn’t.”

  “As I said before, the blood is the center of our life. When we are attracted to another Chosen, the need to bond can be very powerful. We desire their blood, their essence, and we want to give them ours in exchange. This need can reach a point where even a simple caress can make either one lose complete control.” Éva’s intense gaze hardens again, drilling into me.

  “So unless you are ready to commit yourself one hundred percent to Nicolas, I suggest you be very careful. And you should understand that if you do choose to bond with him, he will be extremely reluctant for you to ever leave his side. Bonding is total commitment, and once done, your life is no longer your own.”

  I look at her and slowly nod in understanding. I had realized that loving Nicolas meant my life was going to change. My question has been how much.

  And now I know.

  All of it, down to the very last drop.

  CHAPTER 28

  Nicolas walks into the library and his reassuring presence eases a little of my tension—but not enough to escape his notice. Concern flickers across his face as we both rise from our chairs, and raising his eyebrows, he looks at Éva. She blinks and shrugs, and he shakes his head.

  “She’ll do well, Nicolas,” she says as she walks out to the center of the room. “She has a strong spirit and can stand up for herself. I believe she comprehends what is at stake.”

  Yeah, I do. Nicolas’s position in their competitive society. And my life.

  “However, she does have a bit of a temper, and needs to be careful not to display it in the wrong company. It can be taken as a sign of disrespect.” Éva glances back at me with narrowed eyes as I cross the room.

  He frowns at her, then his gaze softens as he walks over and takes me into his arms.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. We just . . . don’t agree on some things.”

  I sense that he wishes he could just hold me forever, sheltering me from the harsh realities of their world. But I realize that he has no choice, and I squeeze myself against him momentarily, then slowly push away.

  “I’ll be fine tonight. Éva made everything pretty clear.” I try to keep the bitterness from my voice, but can’t help but notice a sadness creep into his emerald eyes.

  “Éva, please meet me in the study,” he says, still looking at me.

  She leaves the room without another word.

  “You do not need to do this. It was unfair of me to expect you to be ready for Chosen social life so soon.” He smoothes the hair back from my face. “There will be more opportunities to meet the others. Perhaps just getting acquainted with Éva should be enough for right now.” His eyes darken in concern.

  “You can’t protect me from your world forever, Nicolas. Sooner or later I’ll have to make a choice to join it—or not—and I rather it be sooner. I don’t see any advantage in waiting.”

  “As you wish, then.” He embraces me again. “I will not allow any harm to come to you. If I were able to walk away from them right now, I would. But to do so with no advance planning would be very dangerous for both of us.”

  He rests his cheek against my hair and takes a breath.

  “I had hoped you and Éva would become friends, but perhaps it is a little soon for that. She is one of the few I really trust, yet I still never let my guard down completely—with any of them. Which is why I have survived this long,” he says with resignation.

  “I believe we got off to a good start. I just think she was a little surprised at how . . . ignorant I am. But she was patient enough and I never felt any ill will. I did, however, sense that she cares greatly about you and would defend you to her death.”

  “Ah yes, I believe you are correct. She and I . . . it was a long time ago.”

  I ease out of his arms and step back.

  “I thought as much. You’ve lived for centuries. I would be a fool to think I’m the—”

  “Sshh. This is not what I wish to discuss. Right now, my only concern is that you feel comfortable about meeting the others tonight.” He reaches out, touching my cheek.

  “I am. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. A few things Éva said intrigued me. I admit to being a little fascinated to see this Game of yours in action.”

  He drops his hand and gives me a wry smile.

  “It bears little resemblance to most games, unless you count those that are to the death. Truthfully, I am a little weary of it as of late and am beginning to understand why the Old Ones have retired and gone into hiding.”

  “But aren’t you like an . . . Old One, too?”

  “Technically? Yes. But because I am still in the world and still playing the Game, I am not considered as such. However, I do have much of an Old One’s power.

  “So for now, we will play, and we will play well. The others jostle with one another to improve their status, but they can only go so high, and it amuses me to watch. Their Game with me is one of waiting. I hold all the cards, and will continue to do so until I am ready to call it, on my terms.

  “And you, my sweet, are going to throw them all off balance. They will not know what to make of you, and will fall all over themselves trying to figure you out. And this I will enjoy watching, too.” His smile becomes wicked, his eyes narrow, and the red blossoms within them.

  Yes, Éva was right. He does love the Game.

  And I can’t help but wonder where I fit into it.

  Soaking in a hot tub of water, I mull over Nicolas’s words and speculate on what my role will be in tonight’s gathering. I hadn’t thought that I was going to be anything more than his arm candy for the evening, an ornament, meant to look pretty next to him and keep quiet.

  And I don’t mind that. I’d rather sit and observe their interactions with each other than engage in conversation myself. But I now think Nicolas has something else in mind, and I wish I had a better idea of what it is.

  Unsettled by my thoughts, I stand up and grab a towel. So much for a relaxing soak.

  “Mademoiselle?” Marie’s voice is accompanied by her soft knock on the bathroom door.

  “Yes, Marie?”

  “Mr. Ambrus asked me to assist you in getting ready tonight.”

  “Okay. I’ll be out in a moment.” I finish toweling off and slip on a plush white bathrobe.

  Wow. I’m really beginning to feel like a princess.

  I step into the bedroom, noting her quiet, steady presence, and silently thank Nicolas.

  “Would mademoiselle like for me to assist her with her hair before she gets dressed?”

  “That would be wonderful. Do you have anything special in mind?” I’m relieved that she offered. Her hair is always cleverly arranged, and I haven’t been able to come up with anything that would do justice to the dress and the jewelry.

  “Yes, mademoiselle, I have several ideas that I think would be complementary.”

  “Great.” I smile and sit down at the dressing table. I watch Marie in the mirror as she takes my hair down from its clip and begins brushing it.

  “Marie, can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, mademoiselle. I will answer as best as I can.” She starts twisting sections and pinning them up.

  “Earlier today when you came into the library, you seemed almost frightened of Éva. Why?” I study her face closely and she turns pale, just as I expected.

  “Mademoiselle Éva.” She glances down, her voice dropping to a whisper. “She makes me very . . . nervous. All of Mr. Ambrus’s friends do.”

  “Why is that?”

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I cannot say.”

  Hmm. Unable to or forbidden to?

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  She looks up at me in the mirror. “No, mademoiselle, you are the only one who doesn’t. You are not like the others.” She blushes and slips a bobby pin into place.

  Yeah, that’s probably because I don’t dine on humans, and they do. And she can tell the difference.

  “Does
Mr. Ambrus frighten you?”

  “Sometimes. When he is very angry or upset. But mostly he is kind to me and takes good care of me. I know he won’t hurt me.”

  But there’s more she’s not saying and I wonder just how much she actually knows about our kind.

  “There, mademoiselle, how do you like it?” She seems anxious to change the subject.

  “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” I turn around and hold up a hand mirror. She has put all my hair up in elegant curls. It’s just the right style for tonight.

  “Then if mademoiselle is satisfied, let me add a few final touches.”

  I turn back around and watch in the mirror as she adds small jeweled clips, probably diamonds, to my hair.

  “Thank you very much, Marie.” I smile as I turn to admire my hair with the hand mirror.

  “You are welcome. You look quite beautiful, mademoiselle.” She smiles shyly in the mirror.

  I start to ask her to help me with my makeup, but decide otherwise. She was fine when she was behind me, but having Marie’s throat in my face might be a little more than I can handle. Since my paleness won’t be an issue tonight, I focus on my eye makeup, keeping it simple.

  Finishing, I turn to Marie and note her watching me curiously. Surely she realizes that I’m not only different from Nicolas’s other guests, but different from her as well. I wonder again just how much she knows, but decide this isn’t the time to find out.

  “How soon do you think I should get dressed?” I ask, looking at the clock. It reads 8:10.

  “Mr. Ambrus said you should come down at nine.”

  “And he doesn’t like his plans changed, does he?” I ask, gauging her reaction.

  “Oh no, mademoiselle,” she says, lines creasing her brow. “You really shouldn’t go down early.”

  “Perhaps you could check with him anyway?”

  “I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but he asked that he not be disturbed. I am to wait here with you,” she says firmly.

  He is such a control freak, but with good reason, I guess. This would not be the evening to challenge him. He’s probably timed my entrance for a specific purpose.

  “Don’t worry, Marie. I’ll wait until the appointed time. Perhaps I should go ahead and get dressed in case things change.”

  “Yes, mademoiselle.” Marie nods. “Would you like me to help you?”

  “Uh, no, I can manage on my own. Thank you.” I’ve had enough human scrutiny for one night. I give her a smile, head into the walk-in closet, and close the door.

  The red silk brushes suggestively against my hand as I remove the black dress from the garment bag. I hang the black one on the closet bar and study its elegant lines for a moment, then take out the red one.

  I’m tempted to put it on, if for no other reason than to see the expression he wore in the shop when I walked out looking as though I’d been dipped in blood.

  But it’s just not me.

  I take the black gown off the hanger and slip it over my head. As I admire its stately lines in the mirror, my gaze darts one last time to the crimson fall of silk hanging behind me.

  With a sigh of resignation, I open the door and step into the bedroom.

  Marie takes in a quick breath.

  “Mademoiselle. Vous êtes belle!. Beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Nicolas picked out the dress. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  She smiles. “Yes. Mr. Ambrus has very good taste.”

  Marie removes the black shoes from their box and holds out a pair of stockings. I take them and realize they are probably silk. I look at her questioningly.

  “Mr. Ambrus had me pick them up this morning.”

  I frown. Does he think I’m such a barbarian that I don’t even own a pair of stockings?

  Suddenly irritated, I set them on the bed and get the ones I brought out of my bag. I look at them, then at Marie, but she keeps her expression neutral. Crap. The silk ones really are much nicer. I stuff mine back in the bag.

  Once the stockings and shoes are on, I walk over to the table, pick up the black velvet-covered box containing the necklace, and open it. The sapphire’s blue brilliance leaps to life when I take it out, reflecting the lamplight scattered about the room. I move in front of the mirror, put it up to my neck, and fasten it. Its beauty is mesmerizing, and I can’t stop staring at it.

  But it seems weird to have more around my neck than my annual income.

  “Mademoiselle?”

  Marie’s reflection has joined mine in the mirror. She offers me a tiny box that matches the one for the necklace. I open it and take out a pair of small sapphire stud earrings.

  I raise my eyebrows in question.

  “Mr. Ambrus said that he ordered them when he purchased the necklace.”

  Shaking my head, I put in the earrings. Their addition to the image in the mirror completes the picture, perfect counterpoints to the necklace and the blue glittering in my eyes.

  A faint noise at the door is followed by a crisp knock.

  Marie walks over and opens the door, and Nicolas walks in. He stops, tilting his head, and nods his approval, his eyes bright.

  “Marie,” he says, without taking his gaze from me, “thank you very much for assisting Miss Martin. Your services are no longer required this evening. You may retire for the night.”

  “Yes, sir.” Marie quickly curtsies and walks out past him. He closes the door and steps farther into the room.

  “You are . . . absolutely stunning.” His eyes darken as hints of red begin to shine through.

  “And you as well. You’re quite the dashing gentleman.”

  He’s standing there in his black tuxedo, tall and dignified, and I realize I want nothing more than to rattle the cage of that calm exterior and free the beast that I sense is hidden within.

  My vision colors as the one in me responds. Nicolas takes a sharp breath and moves, and I’m in his arms before I can blink. He growls low and deep, his breath cool against my jaw. I remember what Éva said, and I don’t care. I reach up to his throat and nuzzle it, and he pulls me tighter, crushing me to him.

  In a deep rumble, he says, “Aaahhh . . . no, my darling, not yet. But we will, if that is what you desire.” He growls low again. “However, for now, we must wait.”

  I feel a surge throughout my veins as my blood reacts to his words with a mixture of anticipation and frustration, and I press myself hard against him, and my own growl quietly escapes my throat.

  We stand immobile, our blood racing, the flows matching, and I can see no other future. He has completely subdued me. I am willing to give my life to him, no matter what it means.

  Nicolas softly kisses my jaw, then brushes my lips with his, and relaxing his hold, gently shifts back. I don’t want to let him go, but he takes a deep breath, forcing my arms to ease their grip. I relent and slowly release him.

  “Now, as beautiful as you are in this gown, I think I would like to see you in the red one again.”

  “But . . .”

  “Shh, my sweet. Humor me. Just try it on.”

  Torn between anxiety and elation, I nod and head back into the dressing room. I quickly change out of the black dress, swap shoes, then slide the red silk over my head and let it slither down around me.

  I can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction when I look in the mirror, in spite of my misgivings. And I realize that once I step out of this room, I’m committed to wearing this dress, and so I better wear it properly.

  With my head held high, I open the door, walk out, and pause.

  Nicolas looks up and his whole body freezes.

  Except for his eyes. His eyes turn deep crimson, and his gaze slowly travels up and down my body. His throat tightens, and with a deep inhalation, his mouth opens just enough to permit the tips of his fangs to show.

  “Ahh . . .”

  My blood racing, my body filled with yearning, I start toward him.

  “No. Stop. Stay right there. Please.”

  I stare at him, at the hun
ger etched across his face, matched only by that within me, and force myself to do as he asks.

  A shudder passes through him and, closing his eyes, he takes several deep breaths.

  The steel tension in his body slowly eases, as does mine, and with a quiet sigh, he opens his eyes.

  “You, my dear, are absolutely ravishing. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

  I nod, suddenly embarrassed.

  “You can come here now. I believe you will be safe—at least for the time being.” He offers a quick half smile, but his gaze remains serious.

  Feeling self-conscious, I cross the room and stop in front of him.

  He reaches out and touches my cheek, his ruby eyes fading back to emerald, and starts to say something, but hesitates. He gently strokes my temple, then says, “Breathe. Relax. It is time to focus. I need you to be fully in control when we walk into the room and meet the others. Can you do that?”

  I nod, take a breath and, stepping away, turn and face the mirror. My eyes are still bright crimson, made even more startling by the blue of the sapphires at my ears and throat, and the red silk draping my body.

  His reflection watches me a moment, then he reaches inside his jacket and takes out a long, rectangular jewelry box, similar to the others.

  “I have something for you.”

  More gifts? I am in a fairy tale.

  Nicolas hands me the box and avidly watches as I open it.

  The delicate bracelet nestled inside is a single row of glittering sapphires. There are nine of them, pea-sized, and they graduate in color from pale blue to very dark blue. Each of the spaces between the blue stones is filled with three small diamonds.

  “Oh, how beautiful,” I whisper.

  “I am glad you like it. Here, allow me.”

  Taking the box, Nicolas sets it on the table, removes the bracelet, and fastens it around my left wrist.

  He holds out my arm to admire his handiwork, then watching me in the mirror, bends to kiss the skin just above the stones. His lips linger a moment at my wrist before tracing the vein slowly up my arm.

  “Uh, that is not going to help me ‘be fully in control,’” I manage to croak. He raises his pink-tinged gaze to mine in the mirror as I gently pull my arm away, and gives me his playful smile.