Timeless (Book One: Caylin's Story; A Watcher Duology; Young Adult Paranormal Romance)

by S. J. West

  “Talk about what?” I asked, still completely clueless. I began to feel nervous butterflies in my stomach just because my dad was acting so out of character.

  My dad ran a hand through his hair, and I instantly knew whatever he was about to say was something that made him extremely uncomfortable.

  “Umm,” he began, like he wasn't sure how to broach the subject he wanted to address, “well...you know when a man and a woman love each other very much that love can manifest itself physically.”

  It was then I realized my father was trying to give me the talk. A cringe worthy event to be sure and one I felt was totally unnecessary.

  “Dad, I had sex ed class back when I was thirteen at school. I know how everything works.”

  “Yes, I understand that,” my dad said, still looking more uncomfortable than I've ever seen him. “But, making love with someone isn't just about the mechanics of it. It's about so much more than that. It can be a beautiful experience when it's shared with someone you love.”

  “Dad,” I said, covering my face with both hands as if that small act would stop him from saying another word, “I really don't want to have this talk with you.”

  “Am I screwing it up that badly?”

  I let my hands fall back into my lap and looked over at him. “No, you aren't screwing it up but …. you’re my dad. Obviously, I know who you've had sex with, well at least three times anyway, and hearing you talk about it is making me picture things in my head that I really don’t want there.”

  My dad looked at me for a fraction of a second before he started to chuckle.

  “I never thought about it like that,” he admitted. “Ok, hold on a second.”

  My dad left the room. A couple of minutes later, my Uncle Malcolm walked in with an uncharacteristic frown on his face and plopped down beside me on the couch.

  “You know why your dad just tried to have the sex talk with you, right?” He asked me point blank.

  “Because I'm seventeen.”

  Uncle Malcolm nodded. “And we all know what happens when you turn eighteen.”

  I nodded.

  Uncle Malcolm sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll be honest. If it were up to me, I’d make you wait until you were twenty-one before you saw Aiden again.”

  “Uncle Malcolm,” I groaned, “eighteen is bad enough.”

  “But not long enough, if you ask me.”

  “I’m not a baby anymore,” I told him, trying my best to see things through his eyes. “I know you love me. I know you’re worried about me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be spending your days teaching at my school. But, you need to start trusting me to know what’s right.”

  “I'm fully aware of the fact that you know what’s right and what’s wrong,” Uncle Malcolm said. “No one is disputing your intelligence here, Caylin. But, we just want to make sure you don’t try to rush things when you’re finally able to be with Aiden again. Being with someone physically can be one of two things: sex or making love. Do you understand the difference?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Sex is just physical gratification. Making love is more of an expression of the love two people have for one another.”

  “We just want to make sure your first time with a man, who will more than likely end up being Aiden, is the latter for you. That’s why I told Aiden the two of you can’t have sex until after you're married.”

  I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “You actually said that to him?”

  “Of course I did.” Uncle Malcolm shrugged, completely unashamed. “Why wouldn't I?”

  “I haven't been allowed to say a word to him in two years, but you get to talk to him about this? How is that even remotely fair?”

  “It's not fair,” he freely admitted, completely unapologetic. “Life isn't sometimes.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “So is this a new rule? What happens if we break it?”

  Uncle Malcolm raised an ominous eyebrow at me. “If you love Aiden, you won't.”

  “Why? Are you going to tear him in two if he touches me in a way you don't approve of?”

  Uncle Malcolm snorted. “Two pieces would be generous.”

  “Uncle Malcolm!”

  “What? I’m just being honest here, Caylin.”

  “But totally unfair!”

  “If your mother waited until marriage, I don’t see why you can’t too.”

  “I’m not saying I won’t wait, but you all act like the decision should be taken completely out of my control. Why don’t any of you trust me enough to know what I’m ready for and what I’m not ready for? I’m not a baby! I wish you would all stop treating me like one!”

  I knew I was shouting, but I couldn’t help it. I’d never lost my temper with Uncle Malcolm before, but I felt completely frustrated with the rules that were being set into place without my consent.

  “Now listen here, young lady...”

  “Malcolm…”

  We both looked towards the door of the study and saw my mother standing there.

  “Could you leave us alone for a moment please,” my mom said to Uncle Malcolm.

  Uncle Malcolm looked at me and sighed. “We only do these things because we love you, Caylin. I hope you understand that.”

  He stood and went to my mother.

  “Good luck, dearest,” he said, resting a hand on her left shoulder as if to give her added strength before he left the room.

  My mother walked into the study and closed the door behind her.

  She walked over to me, holding my gaze with hers as she sat down beside me. My mom held her arms out and I leaned into her, resting my head against her chest like I always did when I needed her comfort.

  “Why don’t any of you trust me?” I asked her on the brink of tears.

  “It’s not that we don’t trust you, Caylin. We just love you so much we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I looked up at her. “Do you think Aiden will hurt me?”

  “I can’t say for sure,” my mother said. “But, if he truly is your soul mate, I believe he will do whatever he needs to do to make your life a happy one. He’s abided by our rules so far and even your father and Uncle Malcolm can’t say anything against him in that regard.”

  “So are you going to try to tell me I should stay a virgin until I’m married too?”

  “I believe your heart will tell you when the time is right for you and Aiden to share that experience with one another. As a mother, yes I would like to see you wait until after you’re married, but I won’t hold my expectations over your head and tell you that you have to meet them. I understand what it's like to be in love with a handsome man who takes your breath away every time you look at him. It wasn’t that long ago I was in a similar situation with your father, you know. And honestly, I’m more concerned about the emotional aspect of your relationship with Aiden than I am the physical. I think we’ve done a good job in showing you just how important you are as a person, and I believe you have enough self-respect to know that your body isn’t something you should share with just anyone.”

  “Yes, I know that,” I said, relieved to hear my mother’s words. “Why don’t Dad and Uncle Malcolm understand that about me?”

  My mom laughed quietly. “Because they’re men and men think differently. I believe they just wanted to give you a man’s perspective on the situation. But, I have faith that Aiden will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. He’s been extremely understanding about our concerns for you, and lord knows he’s had the patience of a saint when dealing with your Uncle Malcolm the past couple of years. He seems to truly love you.”

  I smiled and hugged my mom even tighter.

  “Do I really have to wait one more year before I can see him?” I asked.

  “It’ll go by quickly,” my mom promised. “You’ll be all grown up before I know it.”

  My mom tightened her arms around me as if the action would stop the progression of time and keep me a child forever.

&n
bsp; But my childhood was coming to an end faster than any of us could have realized…

  CHAPTER ONE

  As soon as I wake up, I reach underneath my pillow and pull out my sketchpad. I open it up to the back and stare at the yearlong calendar I've got taped there. With my pencil, I cross out February 10.

  One hundred and seventy-six.

  That's how many days I have left until I can finally see Aiden with the full blessing of my parents. I close my spiral notebook and hold it to my chest as I lie back in bed and look up at the ceiling. I close my eyes and pray for the strength to survive that much longer.

  My only saving grace is the fact that Valentine's Day is only four more days away. I begin to wonder what color rose Aiden will leave for me this year. I cross my fingers and hope for a red one. According to the internet, that color means I Love You. And if there is one thing in this world I want to hear more than anything else, it's that phrase coming out from between Aiden's lips. Lips I often imagine kissing long and hard until neither one of us can draw a breath.

  I sit up and lay my sketchpad down in front of me on the bed. I lift the front cover and stare at one of my many drawings of Aiden. This particular sketch is of him just the way he was the very first time I saw him at Chandler's concert. I flip to the next page and run my fingers over the drawing of his face, lingering over his lips and wishing for the millionth time I could simply pull Aiden out of one of my drawings and hold him against me.

  With a heavy sigh, I close the notebook. I don't know why I keep torturing myself by looking at the pictures I've drawn of him. All it does is depress me.

  I open up the top drawer to my nightstand and slip the notebook inside for safekeeping. I close the drawer and flop back down on my bed determined to suddenly become deathly ill so I don't have to go to school that day and simply wallow in my own misery.

  I hear my bedroom door creak open and the pitter-patter of little feet approach the side of my bed. I lay unmoving but smile and wait.

  In a matter of seconds, I feel a little warm body snuggle up against my back. When I flip over, I bring Mae into my arms and hold her tight. She snuggles in closer to me.

  “Hey KK,” she says to me in what I consider to be the sweetest voice on Earth.

  “Good morning, Mae Mae,” I reply, kissing her on the top of her head and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of her just washed hair. “Did you have sweet dreams last night?”

  She lifts her head and looks up at me with her beautiful brown eyes, just like my mother's.

  “I dream about a rainbow slide,” she tells me with a wonder only a three year old can have.

  “Wow, that sounds like it would have been a lot of fun.”

  She nods and snuggles her head firmly against my chest.

  I hear a knock on my door just before my mom pokes her head in.

  “Mae, you need to let your sister get up and get ready for school,” my mom says.

  Mae sits up and kisses me on the lips before scrambling off the bed and running past my mom and out into the hallway.

  “I don't suppose I could convince you I'm not feeling well today?” I ask, trying my best to feign a sick voice.

  “Up and at ‘em, sweetie. You'll be playing hooky soon enough with your dad on Valentine's Day.”

  I smile thinking about what else will be waiting for me that day.

  “Ok, ok, I'm getting up,” I say, throwing the covers off and sitting on the side of my bed.

  “I wish your brother was as easy to get up as you two girls are,” my mom sighs.

  “You got the pan and spoon?”

  My mom holds up said small frying pan and wooden spoon in her left hand.

  “As always,” she smiles. “Now get dressed. Your dad has breakfast almost ready.”

  My mom walks away, and in less than a minute, I hear her use her tried and true alarm system to wake Will up.

  It doesn't take me long to figure out what to wear to school. It isn't as if I have a lot of options. I only have so many combinations to choose from since we all have to wear a uniform. Our school colors are black, red and white. So, I decide to wear a plaid skirt made up of those colors, a long sleeve white shirt, matching tie hanging loosely around my neck, black jacket with white piping and school insignia on the left pocket and black leather knee high boots over black tights. I let my long brown hair hang down loosely, as usual, and just straighten the natural part to the side. I grab my black leather backpack from the desk in my room and make my way downstairs.

  The welcoming smell of my father's cooking envelopes me as soon as I walk out of my room. My mother rarely cooks. In fact, I can't really remember her ever cooking. Dad has always been the chef in our family and no one's ever complained about that fact. Will and Mae are already sitting at the table when I come downstairs.

  “Good morning,” my dad says to me as he brings me my plate after I sit down beside Mae.

  “Mornin', Dad,” I reply, breathing in the heady aroma of freshly made blueberry pancakes on my plate.

  I glance over at Will and see that he is barely able to keep his eyes open as he plays with his own stack of pancakes with a fork. Even at just thirteen years of age, you can tell Will will look a lot like our father when he grows up. Lord help us all...

  “You better wake up,” I tell Will. “Isn't today the first day of Uncle Malcolm's week long sex ed class for your grade?”

  Will groans. “Don't remind me. I've been dreading it all year.”

  I smile. “Well don't let him hear you say that. Otherwise, he'll pick on you and make you answer all kinds of embarrassing questions in class.”

  Will straightens up in his chair and looks at me. “Can you take me to school? I really don't want to ride there with him today.”

  “I would but my car only seats two people.”

  “Maybe Leah won't come?” Will asks hopefully.

  There's a soft knock on the front door before it’s opened slightly and Leah peeks her head around it.

  “Morning you guys!” She says as she opens the door fully and walks into the house with Mason right behind her.

  “Want some coffee, Mason?” My mom offers as she pours her own cup full from the pot.

  “No thanks, Lilly. I need to get back,” Mason tells her, coming to stand by the kitchen island where my dad is dishing up four more pancakes for Leah's breakfast.

  “Busy day?” My dad asks.

  “Jess and I need to go take care of a problem in Moscow.”

  “Another changeling?”

  “Yes, their Minister of Defense is one apparently.”

  “So we shouldn't be alarmed if we hear about another helicopter crash?” My mom asks knowingly with a hint of a smile.

  Mason grins. “No, you shouldn't be alarmed.”

  Since the closing of the Tear, I knew Mason and Jess’ job had become tracking down any and all changelings Lucifer placed in positions of power and influence. The first changeling they disposed of was the President of the United States. The country mourned his loss when his helicopter mysteriously crashed, killing him instantly but leaving alive his pilot and secret service men. My parents told us the truth about the President's death so we wouldn't feel the loss of our country's leader.

  I once asked my mother what the difference was between a changeling and a rebellion angel like her friend Will, my brother’s namesake. She told me that changelings not only took over a person’s physical form but their mannerisms and all of their memories. This made it extremely hard for anyone to tell the difference. Jess was the only one who could see a changeling for who they really were because of her ability to see a person’s aura. Apparently, changelings had a murky red aura around them.

  “Will you guys still be able to make it to supper tomorrow night?” My mom asks.

  “Absolutely,” Mason tells her. “Jess would kill me if I made her miss one of Brand's meals, especially on our anniversary. I still can't believe my own wife prefers your husband's cooking over mine.”


  My dad grins and my mom laughs.

  “Don't feel too offended,” my mom tells him. “Brand's just had a lot more practice at it in the last eighteen years than you. I can barely boil water, so all the cooking has been left up to him to do.”

  “Either dad cooks or the house burns down,” Will mumbles, thinking it doesn't reach the ears of our mother but is soon proven wrong.

  “I only started a fire once in the toaster,” my mom tells Will with a roll of her eyes. “It’s like none of you will ever let me live that down.”

  “And thankfully your Aunt Tara had the foresight to buy your mom a toaster that was fireproof,” my dad adds, immediately getting a playful swat on the arm from my mother.

  He leans over and brings her into his arms before kissing her lightly on the lips.

  “You know I'm teasing,” he whispers, looking at her in a way I hope Aiden looks at me one day, with all his love fully exposed for her and everyone around them to see.

  My mom grins back at him reluctantly, unable to stay mad at him for very long. And who could blame her with a man like my father. He was completely in love with her. It was a love I wanted for myself one day. An all-consuming, earth shattering kind of love that left no doubt in anyone's minds that the two of you were always meant to be together.

  Mae phases over to my mom and dad and shouts, “Group hug!”

  My parents pull away from one another and my dad picks up a giggling Mae. They hug her between them to make a Mae sandwich, which just makes her giggle even more.

  There’s a brief knock on the front door before Uncle Malcolm walks in dressed in his own version of school clothes.

  Usually, my uncle wears his shirts open in the front to the waist. My mom said he was hot natured and liked the natural ventilation an open shirt provided. But to teach at my school he had to follow a strict dress code: buttoned shirt, tie, jacket and slacks. They asked him to pull his hair back into a ponytail too so he would look more like a teacher and not like he belonged on the cover of Playgirl magazine. For dramatic effect, he chose to wear a pair of square black frame glasses even though he didn't really need them to see.

  Though, even with all his teacher trappings on, there wasn't any way for him to effectively hide his good looks. In fact, I think the female teachers at my school just found him even more desirable because they were all imagining themselves ripping his clothes off. At least that's what I heard two of them giggling about in the ladies bathroom one day when they thought they were alone. I mentally blocked what else they said about him as I cowered in the stall waiting for them to leave. I really didn't need to hear what other women wanted to do to my uncle behind closed doors.