The Watchers (Twisted Sisters #1)

by Lacy LeRoch

  I need to get to him, I need to help him. If they hurt him in any way, I will kill them. Everything around me turns into a haze of smoke. The trees, the sky, everything I look at turns a bright shade of orange and red.

  The vibrations that thrum in my veins increases with every minute they have hold of him. The burning is begging to be free, begging for release. It has a mind all of its own, and all I can focus on is Rafe. Nothing else matters—nothing.

  I need to get to him. In the fog of my self-conscience, I hear my father yelling, but I can’t understand what he's saying. All I can see is Rafe’s eyes as they glow red. He’s struggling to get to me, kicking and punching at the men who have hold of him. In the scuffle, his hood falls from his face exposing beauty at its finest. Long black curls fall down around his face. He has a light scruff growing along his jawline. His eyes flash from black to red.

  The growl that leaves my throat is inhuman. At first, I didn’t realize it was me who’d made the sound until all eyes fall on me.

  “Mine,” I growl louder, this time, bringing with it the wind so powerful, it blows the men off Rafe, knocking them to the ground. “Mine.”

  I don’t know how it happened, but I find myself in Rafe’s arms. Relief floods my body at having him hold me. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tightly. I’m too scared to let him go, not liking the way it made me feel when they took him from me. The heat between us is intense, and not just in the sexual sense, but an actual body heat.

  His long black hair blows in my face. I need to tell him again that he’s mine, I need to make him aware.

  “You—”

  Rafe leans down and kisses me softly on the lips. His mouth trails along the seam of mine. He pulls back and moans softly.

  “I know. I can read your mind, little one,” he breaths out, brushing his lips against mine.

  I’m lost. Granted I’ve never been kissed before, but holy smokes, Rafe knocks me off my feet with just a simple kiss. He moves his lips from mine for a second, then must have thought better of it and brings them back to my lips for a second attempt. He moves his head back slightly and licks along my lips.

  “Open to me,” he commands.

  “Rafe, I warn you right this minute. As an elder, you need to listen to me. She isn’t ready for this yet. We need to wake, Lacy.”

  The sound of my father’s voice pulls me out of my trance. Shame slams me in the stomach. I just got the sweetest kiss and it was in front of my father. Rafe refuses to look at anyone, he keeps his bright green eyes trained on my blue ones.

  “Mine. When this is over, little one, I will claim you. You will be mine. You belong to me. You are my mate, my Lyian. Mine!”

  Rafe leans down, gives me a quick kiss. He raises his head and takes in a deep breath. His nostrils flare, his look turns lethal, and before I can work out his next intent his voice is in my head,

  “You are wet, and it’s all for me, baby girl. That belongs to me, no one is to touch you. You are not to touch yourself. Your pleasure belongs to me and me alone. I will teach you how to talk to me as mates do, but nod right now if you understand what I’ve just explained to you.”

  My head nods of its own accord. Rafe rewards my obedience by giving me the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen grace a man’s face. I can already tell this man is going to destroy me. I can see that so clearly now. How can this man that I’ve only just met worm his way into my heart and soul so fast? Rafe brushes his lips over my cheek then looks over at my father.

  “Judadic Council, Markus, under the laws of the Judadic Council I’m making my claim be known. Do you acknowledge?”

  My father for once in his life looks lost, he doesn’t know what to say. What the hell is the Judadic Council? And why did Rafe call my father, High Lord? Dad looks from me to Rafe then up at the sky. It looks as though he’s asking for divine help.

  “Rafe Demolik, as High Lord of the Judadic Council…” Dad takes a deep breath, glances at me and continues, “…I hereby acknowledge your claim. But also let it be known, you know the laws. You know what needs to happen first. Do you agree?”

  Have you ever felt like you’ve lived under a mushroom? That you know absolutely nothing, nothing at all. And only fed enough shit to keep you happy and growing. Well, that’s how I feel right now, and let me tell you this really sucks.

  Rafe turns to face me, wraps his hand around the front of my throat, his large hand covering the base effortlessly. He squeezes gently, rubbing his thumb up and down the pulse on my neck. He licks his lips, staring at his hand.

  “As hard as it will be, I will swear on the Bible of Tutta and Goddess Lylian herself, all that we hold sacred, I will live up to every rule,” he tells Dad, keeping his focus on me.

  Dad nods his head, then every man turns and bows at me. I notice Mom standing under the bushes, following the men's’ lead, she bows her head. I don’t even know when she came over to join us. The only thing I have been able to focus on has been Rafe.

  “Now, baby girl, let us wake your sister,” Rafe says, pushing me onto my knees at Lacy’s side.

  My throat feels hoarse as though I’ve been talking to my sister for what seems like hours.

  Rafe’s never let go of my shoulders the whole time. Every now and then he would lean down and kiss the top of my head, then straightens up again.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Seeing her this way is killing me. I just want her to come back to me. Rafe leans down and kneels behind my back, pulling me in closer to his body, and he whispers in my ear, “You’re doing great, my love. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes Rafe, I can’t explain the reasons behind it, but I do,” I tell him, as confidently as I can.

  Rafe kisses the top of my head and sighs. He tucks a strand of my reddish, brown hair behind my ear.

  “Then trust me, my love. Repeat my words, let me teach you Lyian. You need to feel it here…” he reaches over and places his hand lightly over my heart, “…and you need to know it here.” Rafe moves his hand from my chest and taps on the side of my head. “Now, repeat after me, love.” He kisses my cheek and murmurs in my ear, “Goddess Lylian, strong and true. Bring my love back through and through. Love and honor, till life be true. Darkness holds off from me and you.”

  I try to repeat the words, just as he said them. But I get them mixed up and the beat is flat and doesn’t sound the way he said it. Rafe patiently talks me through it until I get it perfect. His hand is always on me. He never loses patience with me.

  I’ve never felt so tired before, this is draining me. I look around at the gathering of males and see that they’re taking it just as bad. Heads are dropped, shoulders are slumped. Everyone looks like they are ready for bed. Nothing is working. The silent man with the brown eyes, who I’ve since learned is Bevan, leans down and whispers into Lacy’s ear. A single tear falls down his cheek and falls into her mouth. She jerks awake gasping for air.

  I turn around to hold onto Rafe and find he isn’t where he last was. Panicked, I look around and notice that the men have left. It’s only my father, mother, Lacy and I still here. I see a black mist retreating into the woods, in my heart, I know that it’s Rafe. My heart breaks, he just left me, abandoned me as if I was nothing.

  “You will see me, this I solemnly promise to you. I may seem as though I’ve left you my little one, but in your heart, you’ll know I’m there. I will always be near you, you belong to me. My sweet, sweet Lyian,” Rafe’s voice purrs in my head.

  If all that’s true, why is he leaving me? If I belong to him and him to me, why leave now?

  Get a grip Lucy, you just met this man. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest. I close my eyes, and breathe in deep, trying to reign in my errant heart. It’s times like these that I hate being a female. Our emotions come in so much stronger than males.

  Lacy tilts her head and looks at Dad. “What the hell am I doing out here on the grass, Daddy?” she croaks.

  I turn my head to the side
and see Mom crouching behind a bush, muttering something under her breath, and flapping her hands around in the air. Just as you would see a fog rolling in over the lake at night, everything becomes hazy, my memories become jumbled and I find myself becoming confused.

  Why do I feel like I’m missing something important? Better yet. Why do I feel so dizzy? I think I’m going to be sick. I turn my head to the side, and my stomach starts to heave. I lay my head down on the grass, close my eyes, and I’m swallowed by darkness.

  Chapter Three

  The darkness around me takes forever to go away. I hear everything going on, but can’t open my eyes to respond. There’s nothing worse than being able to hear and not see.

  I hear chanting, soft at first, like listening to a voice spoken underwater, muffled and not easily heard. I strain to try and hear the words, but I can’t make them out. It doesn’t take long before the chanting becomes louder, making it easier for me to understand each word.

  It makes me miss home. Makes me want to leave this dark place. Lucy’s voice echoes around my mind with promises of love, unity, and respect. She’s upset, I can hear her telling someone, that she’s sorry for letting me down.

  Why would she be sorry for letting me down? I don’t understand why she would be saying that. She’s never let me down. Doesn’t she know this?

  The chanting feels as though it’s all around me like I’m surrounded by a whirlwind of voices. The tones are deep and throaty like those of men, but under that, I hear my sister’s voice whispering to me.

  “I can hear you, Lulu. I’m trying to come back to you,” I say into the nothingness of complete darkness.

  The male voices drown out, leaving only Lucy’s sweet one behind. She’s breaking my heart with all the sweet things she’s saying. Why can’t I wake up? Wake up, Lace, come on you can do it. One minute, I open my eyes and I’m lying on the grass, the next, darkness takes over me once more.

  I feel hands grab my shoulders and shake me roughly, the grass rubs up along my back. I smell the flowers blooming, but I can’t move, can’t open my eyes. The darkness is winning this battle, but the more my sister speaks to me, the easier it is getting out of the fog that overtakes me.

  My eyes don’t feel as heavy as they were. I gingerly open my eyes and I’m sitting in the car, with Lucy sitting beside me. What in the world? I wasn’t in the car a minute ago. Lucy looks at me, her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows furrowed. She’s confused.

  “Lucy, how did I get here?”

  Lucy looks at me, glances away and shakes her head sadly. She reaches over and places her hand on my arm.

  “Lace, we’ve been driving in the car for the last three hours, you feel asleep within thirty minutes of the car trip.”

  I sit up straight and stare my twin sister down. I knew it. It was all just a dream. I’m disappointed, but I should have known it. Good things like that don’t happen in real life.

  Once again, the world of my books is making its way into my imagination. I scrub my hand over my sleepy eyes. Lucy still has hold of my arm. She leans in and stares at me.

  “Lace, I know something’s wrong and in more ways than one,” she says in a rush.

  Lucy’s eyes dart to the front of the car, then back at me. She lowers her head and whispers in my ear, “Lace, I can feel it. I know you won’t tell me today, but you know I do want you to tell me one day, okay? And I really, really need to talk to you.”

  Oh, she’s hinting at me. I forgot about that little problem, my sister and I share the twin bond. People always think we’re full of it, or making it up, but we feel each other’s pain and emotions. Sometimes I even swear I can hear her thoughts. I’ve asked her about it before, but she always shuts me down and doesn’t want to hear it. So maybe that isn’t the twin bond, but something only I have. She’s acting strange right now.

  I wonder if… No, I can’t do that, can I?

  Screw it, if she won’t talk to me then she leaves me with no choice. I close my eyes and focus on nothing but Lucy. It helps when I think of only her. I need to get into her head, so to speak. Think about everything I know about her, everything she likes, everything she craves.

  What the…?

  This isn’t right. Why can I see Bevan and another man amongst the shadows in her head? No wonder my poor sister is going out of her mind. I need to talk to her about this. It confirms what I already knew in a way. I knew I wasn’t losing my mind. If Lucy is starting to see the hooded men that means… that means it’s all really happening.

  Without me realizing it the car has pulled up at the cottage. Dad is already out and walking up the porch to unlock everything for us. Mom turns her head in our direction, smiling. Something about the tight-lipped grin puts me on edge.

  “Girls, I know you both want to head straight for the lake, but we need a little help with the house prep.”

  Lucy and I both groan, opening our doors we jump out of the car. What Mom calls a little help, usually ends up in a full day’s work of cleaning. She has a bit of a cleaning disorder.

  I love coming to the cottage, Mom thinks that I love coming here to the lake. That isn’t true. I’m the bookworm of the family. I use the lake as an excuse to get peace and quiet, so I can read and not be bothered.

  I walk over to the front porch of the cottage. My gaze falls onto the swing that Dad build for us girls, I smile at the sweet childhood reminder. We harassed Dad for months for what we called a princess swing. We were only five, but can you believe that Dad gave in? He let two young girls hold it over him. He even painted it a bright pink with purple armrests. It doesn’t suit the cottage at all but makes it all the worthier.

  He’s just as bad as Mom, he’s a perfectionist. Everything needs to be flawless, including his wife and family. Yeah, I really don’t need to get into how we aren’t perfect. We aren’t even close, as much as Dad tries. It just won’t happen.

  The swing was the only concession my sister and I ever got. My happiness gets kicked down a notch as I remember the reason we’re out here. I stuffed up, once again. I just can’t be perfect. Maybe I just wasn’t made that way.

  Dad is hiding us from the social limelight again. I made a mistake and because of my actions, I made the family look bad. So Dad being the man he is, demanded we pack up and head out here for time out. If you call it that, I call it correction camp. Dad will use this time to correct everything he thinks is wrong with us. I’d love to give Dad a bit of correction and slam his head into the door that might help bring his brain back to normal. I’m bitter, hurt, and just damn lost. I need my daddy. I need him to hold me, to tell me that he loves me flaws and all.

  The cottage is four hours from our home in the city. After what happened, I want to be out of the city as well. But seriously, I could have just come out here on my own—I am nineteen. I don’t know why father insists on treating me like I’m a baby.

  “Move it, girls, the day’s already started and we have a lot to do. The Davids family will be here tomorrow, so things need to be fixed,” Dad huffs.

  He doesn’t wait for a response. We know not to talk back to him. Our father’s been hard on us our whole lives. Nothing will change that now. We were taught a hard lesson on our sixth birthday. Our real mother was murdered in a home invasion. One that Lucy was lucky to survive, and she has the scars to prove it. Because she was too young, she doesn’t remember exact details, but she remembered enough for it to cause her trauma still to this day. She has the most horrible dreams. Most of the time, I wake to her screaming and crying. Nine times out of ten we usually end up in the same bed from her nightmares or mine.

  Dad was never the same after Mom died, which was to be expected. He grew more distant as the years went on. He aged faster and lost interest in everything. His whole attitude changed toward us girls, we were no longer the center of his whole world. The only time we gain attention now is if we do something wrong. Can’t say that it doesn’t hurt, because it does. To have that one person who’s meant to love and protect yo
u, just turn their back on you—yeah, that hurts. Suddenly, we had become the problem he didn’t want, didn’t need. He hired a nanny to care for us, who in turn, has ended up as our new mother. Sarah’s great, and has always loved us as her own, but she can’t erase the memories of the father we once had.

  Sarah can’t have children of her own, so we are the next best thing. I shouldn’t be complaining as we have had a privileged life. We had a cleaner, cook and a driver. But we were missing the one thing we needed the most, our father. He’s our only blood kin left, we don’t have anyone on my mother’s side, and we know absolutely nothing about my father’s family. Every time we ask about it, he walks off or changes the subject.

  “Snap out of it, Lacy, and get a move on. Now,” Dad growls, grabbing one of the bags out of the trunk of the car.

  “Yes Dad,” I answer, scurrying up the porch and into the cottage.

  Nothing ever changes out here and that’s what I love about this place. The living room is the first thing you see when you walk inside, it’s kind of hard to miss. It’s set at a lower level than the rest of the cottage, you actually have to take three steps down to go in there. The L-shaped sofa is set up in the alcove, the material is the deepest purple that it almost looks black. Set in front of the sofa is a beautiful hand carved coffee table made out of oak. I love it because of the winged men that are engraved on the legs. They’re the theme around here. Dad calls them Watchers and he says any house or person that bears the mark of the Watcher would always be protected.

  I never really did understand what Dad meant about that. I always thought it was some sort of fairytale that Dad wanted us girls to believe. He believes in it and isn’t afraid to show it. The walls are covered with pictures of everything mystical, including pictures of angel men. They have the look of angels, but their wings are different, almost demon or bat-like, with large beautiful colored feathers. Each male or Watcher, as Dad calls them, have different colored wings. Dad told me once when he had too much to drink, that each male carried different markings and coloring to be able to tell what family line and lineage they come from. He even said his wings were red. I remember him telling me that because it’s not something you hear every day.