Watcher: Book I of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  I watch him dress as he watches me, feeling the desire rising in both of us again.

  This is ridiculous. I finish dressing with my eyes closed. As I pull the tank down and over my hips, I feel a strange combination of heat and humor. I open my eyes and Nicolas is standing just inches in front of me, laughter lighting up his face.

  I shove him backward and he pretends to stumble, then leaps forward and tackles me around the knees, and I go down. He is on me faster than I can register, and kisses me hard on the mouth, then just as swiftly, leaps away. As I jump to my feet, he disappears into the forest.

  Oh really.

  Taking off after him, I spot him through the trees momentarily, but then he is gone. I stop, wary of him circling back behind me, and let the hunter slip free. I use the stillness this time to open my senses to their fullest, and slowly pivot to see if my awareness of him is stronger in one direction than another.

  I was right about him trying to come up behind me, as that is where I feel him. Looking around, I spot a large pine and silently move to it, keeping check on his position. I quietly climb up about sixty feet to a good-sized limb, then stretch out on it and wait.

  A few minutes later, he appears out of nowhere across the clearing from my tree. I watch as he glances around, puzzled, and then finally looks upward. His eyes trace up the tree trunk and stop as they reach my branch.

  “Do you have any idea how much you look like a leopard up there on that limb?” he calls to me.

  I snarl for him, then laugh and scoot back to the trunk. I scramble halfway down and jump, landing next to him.

  “So . . . do you want to see if you can make me purr?” I say seductively and, laughing, take off for home.

  We walk hand in hand down the trail and into the house. It’s almost dawn and I’m starting to feel lethargic. Nicolas leads me into the bedroom, strips off my clothes, and lifts me into bed.

  “I need to go into the Springs to take care of business. Will you call me when you wake?”

  I nod, and he bends over and kisses my forehead. The last thing I see is him standing there watching me, and as I fade away into sleep, I feel his warmth caressing my very core.

  május 26., szombat

  She is different now. Stronger, more sure of herself, and less willing to succumb to my every wish. And I love her even more for that.

  We ran today through her forests and her mountains, and swam in her deep, cold pools. A part of me understands why she is so attracted to that carefree life.

  But it is not for me, and I sense that she knows. So now I find myself waiting once again as she makes her decision about which life to lead. I can only hope it is one that includes me.

  SUNDAY

  CHAPTER 56

  I wake, and the first thing I feel is that he is not here, and I am missing him, almost painfully. His answering longing weaves through me, accompanied by his warmth, and I resign myself to waiting for him. I get up and pick up the cell phone, and it rings.

  “How can I call you if you call me first?” I ask teasingly.

  “You were taking too long. I felt you awaken several moments ago and decided you needed extra motivation to get out of bed,” he answers, amusement lacing his voice.

  “Maybe I require other motivation, like you being here.” I send him a blast of heat.

  “I will be momentarily. Is that a suggestion or a promise?” And I feel his heat in answer.

  “Too late. You’re not here now, and I’m already out of bed,” I say mockingly.

  “Good. Then get dressed. I have something I want to show you.” His voice takes on a mysterious tone.

  Oh, not that game again.

  “Fine. Do you want fancy? Casual? Blue or white, or maybe pink? Anything else you would like to order? Might as well get it out of your system now, ’cuz you only get one shot at it today.”

  “Ah . . . I see. Then don’t wear anything. That will suit me best.”

  Crap. Lost that one.

  “That’s not—” I stop as I hear his car come up the driveway.

  I look down at myself and realize I’m wearing exactly what he requested. How is it that he always manages to make me do what he wants?

  With a wry smile, I walk over to the closet to at least put on a robe. He’s in the bedroom before I can even find it.

  Leaning against the doorway, he says, “I am glad I brought one of the convertibles. Your outfit today will surely turn some heads.”

  I snort and pull out a pair of khakis and a white blouse, then get dressed and do my best to ignore his desire that’s beginning to heat up my blood.

  Finished dressing, I walk over to him. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

  He smiles and starts picking at the tangles in my unbrushed hair.

  “Not running in the forest, so you may want to consider wearing shoes.”

  I feel embarrassed as I look at my dirty feet and realize what a barbarian I’ve become.

  “Uh, well, then I guess I’m not quite ready. Give me a minute?”

  He nods, green eyes laughing, and says, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

  We roar up the highway, the growl of the yellow Cobra echoing off the mountainsides lining the road. The sun is playing hide and seek with a few pale grey clouds in a sapphire sky. I look back at the Peak, and as usual, it takes my breath away as I notice how it dominates the horizon. We slow down through the village of Woodland Park, then speed up as we head west out of town.

  After traveling several miles, Nicolas takes a right onto a dirt road. A-frame mountain homes are nestled here and there in the pines, and we make a series of turns as the road gently climbs past them. A few miles in, we approach the end of the road and pull up to a pair of wrought-iron gates.

  Each gate is adorned with a crest of a rampant lion wearing a crown, the lions facing each other in the classic royal pose. Next to the gate is a polished piece of marble engraved in script that reads The Rose & The Lion Castle, accented with the etching of a simple rose.

  Nicolas reaches over and presses the button on the electric gate panel. He announces himself and the gate opens less than a moment later. The Cobra purrs up the gravel road as two red foxes scurry across and into the brush.

  As we round the curve of the driveway, a European medieval castle comes into view. The upper edges of the grey stone walls are toothed in the style of an ancient fortress. A tower at each end contains windows at several levels. The back and sides of the entire structure are surrounded by an ornate wall in the same grey stone as the rest of the castle. We park in an area off to the side as an older gentleman walks up to the car.

  “Hello, Mr. Ambrus. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Richard—Ric—Lyons.”

  “Hello, Ric. You may call me Nicolas, and this is Sunny.” Nicolas nods toward me and gets out. I smile at Ric and wait while Nicolas walks around the car to open my door. He reaches down to help me out as I look up at him, unable to hide my puzzled expression. I have no idea what he’s up to, and he’s giving me no hints.

  “Pleased to meet you.” Ric smiles at me, his grey-blue eyes sparkling. “Come, let me show you around before we go inside.” He gestures and heads up the path.

  Thankfully the beast stays quiet, unaffected by the first human I’ve seen in over a month.

  Ric explains how he and his wife traveled Europe extensively when they were younger. When it came time to build a home, they decided to model it after the castles they had toured and loved so much. He escorts us through natural-style landscaping, pointing out exotic marble and granite boulders tucked between the plants and scattered around the pond.

  Ric continues to talk with Nicolas about building the home as we walk around to the front and up a red flagstone stairway. The steps are flanked on each side by a low wall as they lead up to an arched entrance. Sitting atop the walls, embracing the archway, is a pair of grey stone lions nearly five feet tall. They sit with one paw raised, mirroring each other, and their mouths are open as they proclaim thei
r kingship of this magnificent castle.

  “Ric, I noticed the name of the castle on the stone outside the gate. What is the story behind The Lion and The Rose name?” I ask.

  He laughs, his eyes twinkling.

  “My wife loves roses, and I love lions.”

  So simple. And so sweet. I smile at him in recognition of their partnership.

  “Come inside, but please be careful of the cats,” he says as he opens the door.

  Cats? I glance at Nicolas, but his face is neutral. This should be interesting.

  We pass several of them crouching on a cat tree as we come into the entryway. They sit as still as the stone lions outside, eyes wide as they watch us go by.

  Ric mutters something about how they’re usually much friendlier. I bite back a smile as we follow him through double etched-glass doors into the parlor. Half-listening, my eyes sweep the stunning interior and note the ornate fixtures and furniture, much of it gilt and antique.

  Ric proudly explains the history behind the various artwork and furnishings, most of it imported from Europe and several centuries old. From the crown moldings that edge the ceiling and doorways to the burgundy-veined grey marble floor and pillars, this place is a small but perfect replica of the European castles of old. It is truly suited for a king, and I can see why Nicolas wanted to show it to me.

  “But,” Ric says patiently, “as I explained to you over the phone, our home is no longer for sale. We did have it listed, but decided not to sell and took it off the market.”

  I look at Nicolas and see the glint of amusement as his surprise is unveiled.

  “Do you like it?” he says to me, pointedly ignoring Ric. “It is surrounded by hundreds of miles of forest, most of it federal land and not subject to development.”

  I love it, and Nicolas would be right at home in its opulence. And I could hunt to my heart’s content.

  Glancing at Ric, I see worry on his face. Hmm.

  “It’s pretty far from the Springs,” I say guardedly.

  All it would take would be one word from me, and Nicolas would pay many times over the original asking price. But I don’t want to be responsible for parting Ric from his beloved castle.

  “Perhaps we should talk about it.” I look at Nicolas and try to project my concern for our host.

  Pursing his lips, he gazes at me thoughtfully and says, “All right.”

  He looks over at Ric. “Thank you very much for showing us your magnificent home, and for your time. Here is my card. Should you ever reconsider selling, please give me a call. Price is not a consideration.”

  A look of relief crosses Ric’s face, and he nods as he takes the card.

  I suspect he was afraid Nicolas would name a figure he couldn’t turn down. By keeping his offer vague, Nicolas gave him a way out, and Ric seems to have gladly taken it.

  “Well, my dear, shall we?” Nicolas extends his elbow and I weave my arm around his.

  Ric hastens to the entryway and opens the double doors. We walk through, then wait while he closes them and opens the front door. The cats have not moved and stare stonily at us as we pass by.

  As we walk down the steps, I look back at the twin lions guarding the entrance. I glance again at Ric and can still see the lion in him. He must have been quite something in his youth, and I admire the woman who captured his heart.

  We bid our goodbyes, get in the Cobra, and head down the driveway. I look back one more time and shake my head regretfully as we go through the lion gates.

  “Other than the distance from the Springs, it was perfect,” I say, staring straight ahead.

  “Yes, it was. It would have been quite suitable as a second home.”

  “But I couldn’t part him from it. His soul is in every stone.” The thought almost brings tears to my eyes.

  “Yes, it is.” Nicolas glances at me and a wave of his warmth floods through me. He reaches over and brushes his fingers against my jaw.

  “And that is one of the things I love about you, Sunny. Your concern for others is something I so rarely encounter, and it reminds me of how I once was.” His voice carries a trace of sadness, and I wonder about the man he had been.

  “But it’s still there,” I say gently. “I see it with Marie and Alphonse, and even with some of the donors. They are more than just food to you.”

  He glances at me with a wry smile, tousles my wind-ruffled hair, and turns onto the highway.

  CHAPTER 57

  Nicolas pulls up the driveway and parks next to the BMW. He gets out, walks around, and opens my door.

  I love this gentlemanly stuff.

  He takes my outstretched hand to help me out of the car.

  Me. The one who can face down mountain lions and kill bears.

  Biting back a smile, I walk into the house.

  Nicolas heads into the bedroom and the sound of luggage zippers drifts out, signaling the moment I’ve been dreading. I hug myself and lean against the doorway, watching him walk over to the closet and remove a garment bag hanging at the back.

  My throat grows tight as he stops to look at me with regret in his eyes. I can’t hide the whirlwind of emotion now spinning through my gut.

  “Ah Sunny. I am sorry. I have much neglected business that I must return to. Éva has been trying to manage my affairs here as well as her own in New York, but she could stay no longer and returned home this morning. I must get back to the estate.”

  “I understand. I’ll be fine.” I take a deep breath and calm myself, then change the subject.

  “Can I ask you a question? What happened with you and Éva? She obviously still cares for you, and you seem to rely on her much more than the others.” This has bothered me for a while, both for her sake and mine.

  Nicolas lays the garment bag down on the bed and takes a long breath.

  “We were once bonded, for a very short time. We were both quite new to this life and did not fully understand the meaning of the bond. The pursuit of power and the temptations that accompany it proved to be more important than maintaining our commitment to each other. Our selfishness quickly drove us apart, and we mutually agreed to break the bond.” His voice is grave as traces of his regret flicker in my blood.

  “But . . . I thought . . .”

  “I spoke from experience when I tried to explain that breaking a bond is extremely painful. It is only because it was what we both wanted that we were able to recover and move on. Should either of us have not been willing to break it, that one would have suffered greatly, with death as a possible result. Again, we were young and did not realize the risks of breaking any more than the importance of nurturing the bond.” A shadow passes through his gaze and is gone.

  “But she still loves you.”

  “Yes, she does. And I still care for her. But that time in our life was centuries ago, and we have been comfortable in our relationship as it is for a long while now.”

  I wonder.

  Nicolas’s eyebrows raise and he laughs.

  “You have only seen one Éva, the one who is protective of me. You have not seen the Éva who delights in playing the Game, with both Chosen and human. You are fortunate she likes you, otherwise you would not feel so sympathetic toward her.”

  I recall the Éva that laid open Katarina’s face, and realize the few occasions I was around the Elders, they all deferred to her, almost fearfully.

  Huh.

  “Now, I really must get back to the Springs.” He takes a deep breath. “And that means I have a question for you.”

  I knew this was coming. I’ve been considering the answer since my return from the wild.

  But he doesn’t ask the question and stays silent, waiting.

  This will be the third night since I killed the bear, and I’ve been remarkably free of hunger since then. I felt no reaction to Ric at the castle today, but I’m not sure if it was due to my absorption in his story or Nicolas’s calming influence.

  Of course, thinking about the hunger wakes it up, and I feel a slight sti
rring in my belly.

  I also can’t deny the fact that thoughts of human blood have been stalking me off and on all day.

  “Not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow,” I answer the unasked question.

  He nods, his expression thoughtful.

  “Then I will try not to be gone too long. I at least need to get some fresh clothes.” He smiles, but again I feel his remorse as we both contemplate the temporary separation.

  Nicolas picks up the garment bag, walks around the bed, and grabs the suitcase. I follow him out to the car.

  He stands there a moment looking at the two-seater Cobra and glances at me.

  “You are sure?” he asks.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I answer, amused at his dilemma. Me or his wardrobe.

  “Because I am perfectly willing to leave these here and wear rumpled clothing.” He waits, eyebrows raised.

  “Go, so you can take care of what you need to do and get back. I will be fine.” I laugh.

  He sadly smiles as he wedges the suitcase and bag into the passenger seat.

  “But I may not be fine. Just, please, do me a favor, and do not get angry with me for asking,” he says gently.

  “What?”

  “Please be careful? That is all I ask.”

  “Yes, I will be.” My amusement wilts beneath his concern.

  He looks at me for a moment, and his eyes flash red as his heat surges through my veins.

  I quickly step back. “No, don’t start that. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.” I fold my arms and attempt to look unapproachable.

  He laughs, takes a step forward, and says, “Then do not look at me like that. You know I cannot resist a challenge.”

  “Whatever.” I shrug, feigning indifference.

  The air sighs as he appears inches from me and plants a kiss on my forehead. Just as quickly, he is sitting back in the car.

  “Will you teach me to move like that?” I ask in amazement.

  “Maybe.” He laughs and the Cobra roars to life. He backs out and around, then waves as he heads down the driveway.