Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I never expected to have you, Poesy. It is impossible.”

  “I think I must have some say in that.” I touched the soft skin of his cheek. His skin was cooler than mine, yet the texture was soft like a baby’s. Touching him flared my desire. The tingling was back in full force.

  “Poesy, I cannot. It is wrong.”

  It was now or never. I felt the moment passing us by. My opportunity to do what I’d wanted to do since our first encounter was slipping away. I wouldn’t miss it this time and so I turned sideways and forced his face toward mine. He looked at me questioningly before my lips gently touched his.

  “Poe–” he started to say as he grabbed my shoulders, but I wouldn’t let him finish. I kissed him harder this time, smothering his response with my mouth. He let out a small moan as I straddled him in the sand, my hands cradling his face. His body had given me his response even if his mind was unwilling. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he wrapped his arms around my back, crushing my body to his. Pushing him back on the beach, I kissed him again recklessly, moving my tongue into his mouth while unbuckling his pants. I was about to slip my hand under his waistband when his skin started to shine. I pulled back and gasped.

  “You’re glowing!”

  “What?” His eyes fluttered open.

  I kissed him hard again. This time, his eyes were wide open.

  His skin, which had always been soft and cool, glowed hot in the moonlight, as if he were made of small, shining stars. It was the same sublime radiance I’d seen in my dreams and on his back porch that night. I wasn’t crazy. It was as if he had harnessed the moon’s rays for himself and shone like a beacon in the darkness.

  “Jesus!” I exclaimed as he pushed me off his lap, dumping me butt-first into the sand. “What was that?”

  “I did not mean to push so hard.” He rose quickly.

  “That’s not what I meant. Your skin–”

  “It is getting late. Time I took you home.” He strode toward the beach’s exit, leaving me sitting in shock.

  “Adam, wait!” He stopped, his back to me. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what that was.”

  “It is nothing,” he said before resuming his speedy retreat toward the car.

  “Goddamn it, Adam, I’m not crazy!” I yelled after him.

  When he didn’t stop, I jogged over to where he stood by the car, anger and shock clearly written on his face. Winded, I bent over, trying to catch my breath.

  “Get in the car, Poesy,” he said with dead calmness.

  I took in a deep lungful of air and stood up. “Not until you give me some answers. What was that?”

  “It is part of my illness. Now let us go,” he said abruptly.

  I looked at him, refusing to budge.

  “For the last time, will you please get in the car?” he demanded. All the prior warmth was gone.

  “No.” I shook my head emphatically. “We’re not done here.” I could feel my temper rising even though my instincts were telling me to flee.

  He ran his hand through his untidy hair before slamming his fist down on the roof of the car. The sound made me jump. I wanted to say something more but didn’t because his change in demeanor stopped me in my tracks. For once, I felt perhaps I’d overstepped the mark.

  “Fine. Have it your way, then,” he growled as he got into the car. The car engine roared to life as he took off like a bullet into the night.

  He left me standing there in the dark.

  7

  I didn’t sleep well that night, or for the next five nights, either. My most recent encounter with Adam had left me unsettled and bewildered. I had so many questions, but no answers. The more I tried to think about it, the more confusing it got, and my distraction didn’t go unnoticed, either. I was returning an order to Cookie that I’d gotten wrong‌—‌my second one that day‌—‌when Stevie pulled me aside.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked.

  His question caught me off guard.

  “Nothing. Why?” I asked back, trying to look him squarely in the face.

  “Well, for starters, you never get orders wrong.” He jerked his thumb back to the kitchen. I started to answer him, and he shushed me. “And on top of that, you just seem to be off your game. So what is it? Are you worried about the murder?”

  It had been almost two weeks since Alberta’s murder, and the police weren’t any closer to naming a suspect, as far as anyone could tell. The boys from the station still came in every day for lunch and ordered their usual fare, but the unease in which they had their lunch was obvious. Grim faces all around and not one smile between them. Locals knew better than to ask, which meant there was lots of room for speculation. And the current speculation wasn’t pretty. People were saying Alberta was the target of some sort of gang initiation. That made people nervous. Gang violence never reached out this far.

  “I don’t know. I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I responded honestly.

  It wasn’t good enough for Stevie, though. He led me back behind the bar, grabbed a tray of clean, wet glasses, and started scrubbing them dry. His fingers twitched while he avoided my gaze.

  “You’re not in trouble, are you?” he asked with a sideways glance, all the while drying the same glass. Again.

  “Seriously? I’m not Joe. I’m careful with my money.” I was irritated that he’d even asked.

  “That ain’t the kind of trouble I’m talking about,” he said quietly. It took me a minute to pick up on his meaning. He rushed through his next words. “’Cause if you’re in that sort of trouble, then just say and I’ll start giving you more day shifts. You shouldn’t be working so late if you’re–”

  “NOT pregnant!” I exclaimed.

  Oh, my god.

  “All right,” Stevie grumbled, shrugging. “I was only trying to help.”

  “Help with what?” Haylee had appeared at the end of the bar.

  “I thought Poesy might be in a delicate condition.”

  “Say what?” exclaimed Haylee.

  “Ha-ha, I know. Funny, right? Anyhow–” I tried to hide my embarrassment.

  “Oh, that’s too rich,” interrupted Haylee, laughing so hard that tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. “You thought Poesy was a baby mama.” Haylee would wet her pants if she kept laughing like that. I even hoped she would so she’d shut up.

  “Well, it’s possible, you know,” Stevie explained. “I mean, Poesy’s an attractive young woman and all.” I cringed.

  “You think Poesy would get knocked up?”

  Stevie dropped the towel on the bar before leaning in toward the two of us, using his index finger to punctuate his next sentence. “You can never tell these days. I mean, word on the street is that Amanda Chu has caught the child flu.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said.

  Haylee stopped laughing and got serious. “That’s not funny, Stevie.”

  “Hey, I’m just saying what I’ve heard.”

  “Yeah, well, you heard wrong and need to shut the hell up,” she warned.

  “Haylee!” I exclaimed.

  “Now look here–” Stevie had taken it all pretty well up to that point.

  “That’s how folks’ lives get messed up by ignorants who go around talkin’ shit.” Haylee’s tone was getting angrier and angrier.

  “This is my bar, and you’ll show some respect,” Stevie sputtered, his face going an interesting shade of red.

  “It don’t give you the right to be a no-good lyin’-ass monkey!” Haylee’s temper was out of control now.

  It was like a bomb dropped in the middle of Paddy’s.

  “That’s it! OUT!” bellowed Stevie.

  “Come on, Haylee. Outside.” I grabbed her arm and pushed her ahead of me out the front door of Paddy’s.

  Although it made me sick to my stomach, Stevie was right. How he’d found out or what information he had gott
en ahold of that made him speculate was beyond me. Unless Amanda had told someone else, like stupid Katie Fitzpatrick. Crap, what was I supposed to do?

  Haylee clenched and then unclenched her hands. One of her dreads had come out of her ponytail. She was definitely worked up. “That man ain’t no better than half them crackers on this goddamn island. It ain’t bad enough they’d like to go back to them lynchin’ days, but they got no problem spreadin’ lies about people who ain’t done nothin’ wrong. I swear, Poe, I’m gonna slap the crap out of that man.”

  I put my hand on her arm to shush her. “Look.” I glanced around to make sure we were alone. “It’s true. What Stevie said about Amanda.”

  “What?” Haylee looked shell-shocked.

  “Yeah, I found out right after Adam showed up at Paddy’s. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but Amanda made me promise.” And now I had gone and broken that promise. I was in deep shit. Again.

  “Jesus have mercy‌…‌are you for real? How?”

  I led her over to the side of Paddy’s, away from the glass windows that would give the customers a clear view of our conversation. “It’s worse than that. She wants to keep the baby.”

  “Holy Moses,” uttered Haylee. “There ain’t no way Daddy Chu is gonna let her do that. He’ll kick her ass out first.”

  “I know.” I nodded my head and frowned. “I don’t know who the baby’s father is, so don’t even ask. I’ve tried a million times to get it out of her, but she won’t tell me. It’s like she’s scared or something.”

  Haylee didn’t have to nod her head for me to realize she understood what that meant. The problem with Amanda’s taste in men was that it was almost as bad as Haylee’s. There was a very real chance Amanda had gotten in over her head with a man who you didn’t want to cross. I didn’t know if she did it to spite Mr. Chu or not, but if she’d been sleeping around in the wrong crowd, it could be pretty bad, indeed.

  “So what now?” asked Haylee. “Did you tell Birdie yet?”

  I sighed. “No, I haven’t told Birdie, and don’t think we should, either. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.” Haylee gave me a sour look. “But I’m glad I did.” I backtracked quickly. “I just wish I hadn’t had to betray her trust.”

  “I know you think you’re helpin’ her,” offered Haylee, “but it’s only a matter of time before she’s showin’. You just delayin’ the inevitable, so don’t beat yourself up too bad.”

  “But she’s already upset. You didn’t see her on Halloween. She’s already showing and everything. It’s happening so quickly.” I wrapped my arms around my chest. The wind was starting to pick up, and it was freezing.

  “Don’t worry,” replied Haylee. “We’ll figure something out. It’s not like she’s dyin,’ is it? We’ll help her get through it.”

  “You’re right.” I sighed. “I just can’t handle another crazy thing happening right now. I feel like I’ve entered the Twilight Zone.” Haylee gave me a funny look. “I’ll tell you later, but right now, you gotta go apologize to Stevie.”

  Haylee groaned.

  “You know you gotta do it,” I insisted. “Don’t be losing your job ’cause you can’t figure out how to say ‘sorry.’” Haylee’s temper was legendary, and she knew it, too.

  “How about if you tell Stevie I’m sorry? He’ll take it better comin’ from you.”

  “Oh, hell no.” I shook my head. “My shift is now officially over, and you still gotta go back in there. Don’t make me take a bullet for you.”

  “I know, I know. Why didn’t you stop me?” complained Haylee.

  “Girl, I tried, but when you get going, no one can stop you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth, now. Ugh.”

  I patted Haylee on the back and walked back in with her, staying just long enough to grab my stuff and head back out the door. I didn’t want to be there if she and Stevie kicked off again. Plus, I had plans of my own.

  The idea had come to me the moment Haylee had asked me if I was going to tell Birdie about Amanda’s secret. I don’t know why the thought hadn’t crossed my mind sooner, except that I’d been so busy thinking about how I was going to figure out Adam’s secret that I didn’t see the solution staring me right in the face. Because Adam’s secret was a big one. No one would ever believe me in a million years except for one person.

  Birdie.

  The thing that made Birdie unique, aside from his fantastic musical talent was his love for conspiracy theories.

  Afraid so.

  Birdie had always been into the unexplained, the mysterious, and the covert. He thrived on it. JFK? CIA. Roswell? Aliens. Birdie was a fact-finding, conspiracy-uncovering fanatic. That whole “the truth is out there” thing, well, he believed it. But for once, Birdie’s knack for the unconventional could be useful. Who else would know about strange phenomena? Who else could I pose awkward questions to without getting strange looks? Birdie might be the man with all the answers, after all.

  I smiled to myself as I drove home to change and get Daisy. The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, not stopping long enough to think through any of my actions or digest all the odd things that had been going on. Why hadn’t I thought to talk to Birdie sooner?

  Oh, right, because he was in love with me and totally hated Adam.

  I tried not to think about that as I rushed into the trailer before heading back out to Birdie’s. I needed all the focus I could muster because I was determined to leave Birdie’s with some answers.

  ***

  Birdie’s apartment would never win any Good Housekeeping awards, and I was reminded of that fact when I walked through his front door. Dropping my bag down on the leather sofa, I had a quick look around while Daisy sniffed out the warm pizza boxes sitting on the stove. Not much had changed since the last time I’d been there. Birdie had hung a few Robotic Overlords posters around the room along with a tragically old poster of some eighties indie band that I had never heard of. His fifty-two-inch TV still sat in the corner, surrounded by three game consoles and a pile of what could only be video games or DVDs. The leather recliner was full of dirty clothes.

  I glanced toward the bedroom, where the unmistakable sound of Birdie’s voice warbled from the shower. Smiling to myself, I listened as his voice reached a falsetto range and then dropped down suddenly to an alto before resuming its high-pitched wailing. There’d be no point in calling out to him while he was still in the shower. I had a few minutes to myself, and that suited me just fine. It gave me a chance to look through Birdie’s treasure trove of books. I ambled over to the bookcases by the TV.

  Birdie loved books. Aside from the money he spent on equipment for the band, Birdie blew most of his paycheck in the small secondhand bookstores scattered around Savannah. He had even crammed three bookshelves into the corner of his tiny place, and they were overflowing with books of all shapes and colors.

  I walked up to the first shelf, tilting my head sideways to read the titles. You are Being Lied to, 101 Greatest Conspiracies of Our Time, UFOs Uncovered, and Top Secrets of World War II were just a few. I pulled out a book on aliens and flipped through the pages. Little pale creatures with big, almond-shaped eyes stared back at me. Stories of anal probes and lost memories littered the pages, and I shut the book and sighed. I reached for another book, this one with a flamboyant lime-green cover and titled Cults, Covens, and Communes. The book naturally opened to a picture of a naked female lying supine on an altar stone with a man in a monk’s habit dripping liquid on her from a chalice. I quickly turned the page to another section, only to find a disturbing picture of Charles Manson with a swastika on his forehead.

  “Finding anything you like?” asked Birdie from behind my shoulder.

  His sudden appearance made me jump.

  “Um, not really,” I replied, quickly shoving the book back into its slot on the shelf.

  I turned around and gave Birdie a
quick hug. He stood barefoot in a pair of relaxed-fit jeans and a black T-shirt. He had draped a navy blue towel over his shoulders and went back to drying his hair‌—‌hair that now had bright crimson streaks running through it.

  “How’d you get in?” he asked.

  “I used my key. Hope that’s okay.” I was distracted by his hair. “And while we’re playing twenty questions, what’s with that?” I pointed at his head.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, grinning.

  “It’s‌…‌interesting.” My lack of enthusiasm didn’t faze him.

  “You know Amanda’s friend Katie, the one with the pixie cut?”

  “Yes, vaguely.”

  “Well,” he continued, “she wants to do some photos of the band, and she thought I’d look cooler with the red highlights.”

  Birdie turned from me and looked at himself in a mirror above the sofa. He turned his head from side to side, taking in the effect. He was primping like a schoolgirl‌—‌very unlike Birdie.

  “Since when do you listen to crazy groupies with pixie hair?”

  “Since her stepdad works for some label out in LA. Plus, she’s doing photography at SCAD.”

  “Uh, wow. Okay.” I rolled my eyes.

  “She might be able to open some doors, you know? Every little bit helps,” he responded, his defensiveness not missed on me.

  “Yeah, well, good luck with that.” I walked past him and threw myself on the couch.

  “Look, don’t be that way. It’s not like I like her!”

  “Hey, you can like whomever you please.”

  “Poe, come on–”