Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  Adam grimaced. “It appears you will need more tutoring than expected.” He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples before opening them again. He leaned forward, interlacing his fingers as he stared straight at me. I felt the heat inch its way toward my face. “In the beginning, when your people were still in their infancy, some of my kind were sent here to watch over your race. It should have been straightforward, but it was not.” He paused. “Some of my kind became involved with the females of your race. Some say they fell in love with the daughters of Man and coupled with them out of love.” He looked at me for a moment. “Not only did they seduce those women, but they also divulged information to humans that was never meant for them.”

  “What kind of information?” I asked.

  “Technology, you could say. Things that artificially evolved the human race,” he replied.

  “So what happened?”

  “Those of my kind were found out and severely punished, but not before the damage was done,” he said, almost to himself. “The women had become pregnant with our seed. At first, nothing appeared to be amiss until the women gave birth. Then things went horribly wrong.” His face was pale and drawn.

  “How–” I started to say.

  “The Nephilim,” he replied quietly. “They sprang into being. An aberration against the Creator. My kind thought for sure it would unleash the Purge, but instead, the Earth was washed clean with the Flood. It was for the best.” He finished speaking and didn’t say any more.

  “So you can’t have unprotected sex, is that it?” I asked.

  He frowned before repositioning himself several inches farther from me on the couch. “Any sex is out of the question. Your contraception does not work for us. It is not worth the risk.”

  “How would you know?”

  He shook his head at me. “You would think that. You humans are happy to be bold and reckless. I know what can happen and would rather die than risk condemning your race and mine to that.” His voice was full of conviction.

  “Okay, I get it,” I said, the defensiveness creeping back into my voice.

  I was getting tired and when that happened, I got irritable. As much as I wanted to talk to him, it was close to dawn and I needed to get some sleep. Before I could ask him to leave, he asked me a question that completely took me aback.

  “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes searching out mine.

  “What about the whole no-human-women thing?”

  “Not like that. Here.” He firmly pointed his index finger at my poor excuse for a couch. “To watch over you.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in more trouble.”

  “Until I know more, it would make feel better to know you are okay.”

  I nodded my head.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” I mumbled.

  With Daisy in tow, I scuttled down the hall to grab the spare blanket from the foot of my bed. It was an ugly chocolate, orange, and mustard wool afghan, but Penny had made it, and I wouldn’t part with it for the world.

  “Here. It’s not the prettiest thing, but it’s warm,” I explained.

  He thanked me again. I started to walk back to the bedroom when his voice made me pause.

  “It is going to be fine, Poesy. It will all work out in the end.”

  I just nodded as I shut my bedroom door and went to bed. I hadn’t said the thing that kept flitting across my mind.

  I wasn’t so sure.

  9

  I woke up the next morning alone. It was an odd feeling, and at first I couldn’t quite make out what was wrong with the picture. I was in bed, warm, stretching my arms and legs. Everything seemed in place. It was my day off, so I was in no rush. Then it hit me. No warm fuzzy dent up against my side, no thumping tail on the bed. Daisy was missing. I started to fling back the covers, my heart in a panic, when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted in under the bedroom door‌–‌and then the second realization came.

  Adam was still here.

  I got up and pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a T-shirt out of my dresser. A vague moment of unease passed through me when I thought about Adam being in my room as I slept soundlessly, completely oblivious to his presence, but the thought was fleeting. I grabbed a stretchy headband off the top of the dresser and wrapped it around my head. With headband in place, clean clothes on, and a quick peek in the mirror for eye crust, I was ready to face whatever was on the other side of the door. I strolled out of the bedroom.

  Adam had obviously been home to change and shower while I slept in the other room. His hair was still slightly damp but had that I-could-be-in-a-fashion-mag look. He wore a long-sleeved, off-white shirt under another cashmere V-neck sweater‌—‌a chocolate-brown one this time. I watched him rinsing dishes in my kitchen sink, his shirt rolled up into cuffs at his elbows, the back of his hair just barely touching the collar of his shirt. I sighed. A supernatural creature who did dishes.

  “Hey,” I said from the hallway, stopping a couple of feet from the counter to lean up against the wall and look at him. “How long have you been up?”

  “A while,” he said, smiling as he dried his hands before pouring me a cup of hot coffee. The smell was intoxicating.

  “Thanks.” I inhaled once more for good measure before taking a sip. I could feel the caffeine working its way through my veins. Perfect.

  “What’s that smell?” I asked. Placing my coffee on the counter, I walked over to the oven, opening the door. The smell of a bacon quiche crept out, and my stomach growled loudly.

  “You made a quiche?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I thought you would be hungry,” he replied.

  “You do realize real men don’t make quiche, right?”

  He looked at me, puzzled.

  “Never mind.” I shut the oven door and grabbed my coffee making my way to the table. Daisy sauntered over and sat up against my leg, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.

  “Wow. You seem pretty chill this morning, dog. What, no begging for breakfast?” I rubbed down the front of her chest.

  “She has been fed. We had a short walk on the beach, too.”

  “You’re kidding me. She let you take her for a walk?” I looked from Adam to my dog.

  “Well, the bacon helped, of course. She quite likes it,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You traitor! You sold me out for a piece of bacon?” I looked at Daisy.

  Daisy slinked off toward the living room, opting to retreat. She jumped up on the couch and lay down in a ball with her back toward me. She might be unable to talk, but she was good at letting me know how she felt.

  “I thought I was doing you a favor,” said Adam, dragging my thoughts back to him.

  “Yeah, sorry. Thanks.”

  “Are you hungry?” He smiled at me.

  My stomach growled again‌—‌this time loud enough for him to hear. My face got hot.

  “I take it that is yes.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is,” I replied, trying not to look at him. The quiche smelled heavenly.

  With the steam was still rising off the flaky butter crust, Adam brought a piece of quiche over to me with a clean fork. I took my first bite and practically drooled on the table. It tasted as good as it smelled.

  “Oh my god, it’s scrumptious.” I took a bite, then another. I was too busy eating to talk, so Adam filled the silence.

  “I am glad you like it. There is plenty if you want more.” I just grunted in appreciation. “I do not know what your plans are today,” he continued, “but I thought perhaps you would agree to spend the day with me.” Putting my fork down, I took a swig of coffee to wash the bits of crust out of my mouth. His suggestion caught me off guard.

  “I may regret it later, but I would like to take you somewhere special so we can talk more. Away from here,” he said, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Given the amount of resistance he’d put up
during our last discussion, I was surprised, to say the least.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. We should probably talk more about‌…‌things. I would prefer to do it away from here, if that is all right with you.”

  “Sure. Where are we going?”

  “Ah, well, that is a surprise. How much time do you need to get ready?”

  I looked at the clock. It was still early.

  “I guess forty-five minutes?”

  “Good,” he said, sitting on the couch.

  “What? Aren’t you leaving?” The last thing I wanted to do was to get ready in front of him.

  “I was not planning on it. Should I be?” he asked, slowly rising.

  “No, it’s okay. Sit.” I caved in to my own guilt and waved him back toward his seat. He looked relieved. “I’ll try to be quick.”

  With a sigh, I turned and headed down the hall, glancing back at him one more time before I stepped into the bathroom. He’d settled back on the couch and started to read the paper as if he belonged there‌—‌as if he’d always been here. I shook my head and shut the door. Wishful thinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

  As expected, it took me slightly longer than I’d claimed to get ready. Fifteen minutes more, to be exact. I was actually in and out of the shower in a minute‌—‌okay, well, maybe a bit more, as I had to shave my legs, armpits, and bikini area. Not that those things were likely to be exposed on this secret soiree, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus, the hair on my legs had gotten long enough that it had started to itch. With no recent boyfriend action, I had gotten lax in that department.

  Dressing went more smoothly thankfully. Having decided comfort was the way to go, I opted for a pair of clean jeans and a fitted gray tee with a soft, fuzzy cardigan sweater that was two sizes too big. With a minimal amount of makeup on, I picked up Ellie’s ring from my nightstand and walked into the living room.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He looked up from his paper, eyeing me up.

  “What?” I said defensively.

  “Nothing,” he replied, a smirk on his face.

  “No, spill it. What’s wrong?”

  “That you can dress like a ragamuffin and yet still look pretty.”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

  “I am serious. The look suits you.” For once, I didn’t have a snappy comeback. “Shall we?”

  Adam folded his paper and stood up then made his to the door. He held it open for me, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I pulled my key out of the lock and turned around on the porch to find the flashy Lotus in the driveway.

  “Oh, hell no!”

  “What?” he asked, standing at the driver-side door.

  “I’m not going in that thing. I can hardly get in and out of it!” I walked toward my car, but in a blink of an eye, he was blocking the door.

  “Would you cut that out!”

  “Cut out what?” he asked with a devilish grin.

  “That whole Flash move thing.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said unconvincingly.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll be asking lots of questions about that today. That’s a promise.”

  He sighed. “We have to take my car. Please, will you stop being so stubborn and listen to me?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  I paused. Did I have a choice?

  “Fine. Let’s go.” I stomped off toward the contortion-mobile.

  “Thank you,” he said, trying not to smile. I groaned.

  Three minutes later, we were off.

  ***

  As usual, it was impossible to talk over the roar of the engine, so I had little choice but to sit back and enjoy the ride. The thrumming was soothing against my skin, cocooned in the tiny compartment of the car. I glanced over at Adam, and he gave me an encouraging smile before I turned back to my window and looked at the scenery flying past.

  I didn’t take Route 17 very often these days. It’d fallen out of fashion, mostly due to the creation of Interstate 95, but it’d been a grand road, linking up the small towns to the larger ones of southeastern Georgia. I was surprised Adam had chosen it and said as much when we hit a stoplight.

  “The interstate is boring and quite uncomfortable in this car,” he replied.

  “We should’ve taken my car, then.”

  “Do not start,” he warned as the light turned green and we were off again.

  After another hour, my butt started to go numb in the racing seat. I shifted my weight from my right butt cheek to my left, but it helped little.

  “How much farther?” I yelled over the noise of the engine.

  “Not far now,” he replied, his volume matching mine.

  As if I had magically willed it, the car turned onto a smaller route and suddenly, I knew where we were going.

  I hadn’t been to Jekyll Island since I was a kid‌—‌five, maybe six at the max. It had been a couple of years after Ellie had died before Penny and Grandpa Bill could stomach leaving Tybee, and Jekyll Island had been the first vacation we’d had as a new family.

  The guard at the tollbooth caught my eye as he waved us through without stopping. “Wait. Don’t we have to pay the toll?” I asked, intrigued. The car wasn’t nearly as noisy in a lower gear.

  “Resident’s permit.” Adam pointed at the sticker on the window before smoothly downshifting.

  “Seriously? How?”

  “Tybee is not my only home, Poesy. Did you not wonder where I had come from?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I thought outer space or something.” My tone was serious.

  “I live here. This planet‌—‌you know, Earth,” he replied in disbelief.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, okay, I guess that makes sense,” I said, embarrassed.

  “It is okay, Poesy. We have got plenty to talk about,” he replied before glancing back at the road. “We are almost there.” He drove up to another gate, this time an automated one that opened immediately to let the car through. We were at the state park.

  “Isn’t the park closed for the winter?”

  “Yes. Unless you live here,” he said enigmatically. “Trust me.” The road curved around several short bends before diverging from the main road to a tiny dirt track that barely looked large enough for the car. “Hold on, it may be a bit bumpy.”

  He wasn’t kidding. I swore under my breath as he tried to maneuver the car away from the largest potholes. Tiny jolts of pain pummeled my poor bottom as the car jostled left and then right. I’d had enough and was ready to bitch loudly when we finally cleared the horrible road and it opened up to smooth asphalt.

  “Here we are.” The car fell silent as he switched off the ignition.

  I opened the door and tried to lift myself gingerly out of the car by swinging my legs over the side, and using the roof and door to pull myself up. When the blood rushed back into my behind, I sighed with relief then turned my attention to the house sitting in front of me.

  “Hmmm. Interesting.” I leaned on the roof of the car, staring up at Adam’s other house.

  “Interesting?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Don’t get me wrong. It’s amazing, but there’s something about it‌…‌I don’t know, I can’t picture you in it, somehow,” I said, shrugging.

  It was definitely different from the house he had purchased on Tybee. More austere than the old Harrington house, this house lacked the warmth of the former. Its slate and stone veneer lent it a foreboding look.

  “I do not own it, but rather, it has been loaned to me for the past eighty years or so,” he replied without a single trace of humor.

  He wasn’t joking.

  My eyes went wide before I could stop myself, causing him to stiffen.

  “I am sorry if that distresses you,” he said quietly.

  “It’s fine.” I walked around to his side of the car. “It’s just going to ta
ke some time to get used to, that’s all. So what now? I’m starving.” It was almost one o’clock, and I was hungry. I’d only eaten a couple of hours ago, but couldn’t help it. Low blood sugar was a curse.

  “I prepared us a little something,” he said as he made his way to the back of the car. Curious, I followed him. Adam gave me one more smile before popping open the infinitesimally tiny trunk of the car. Inside was a small carpeted box that was just big enough to hold a wicker basket and a rolled-up blanket. I looked at him, surprised.

  “When did you have time to make lunch?” I asked. It was bad enough he’d had time to make the quiche.

  “Hold the praise. You have not actually seen what I made yet.” He lifted the basket out with one hand while passing me the blanket with the other. “Would you hold this for a minute?” he asked as he shut the lid of the trunk before taking the blanket back from me. Securing the blanket under the arm holding the basket, he reached for my hand. The tingling was immediate. I tried to mentally push it away, but it didn’t do much good. The dull buzz was more like a slight tickle.

  With my hand in his, he led me down the side of the house via a set of steep stone steps. As we walked through a grove of trees, I saw a small family cemetery followed by more steps and then, finally, an open expanse of quiet beach. He released my hand as we stopped in front of the cemetery gate. He swung the gate open and ushered me inside, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.

  I shook my head as he followed me through the gate and then shut it behind him.

  “A cemetery?” I asked.

  “Yes, it is quiet here. There will be no disturbances.”

  “I guess not,” I said, slightly squeamish at the thought of all the dead people.

  I walked behind him down the narrow gravel path, being very careful about where I stepped. Whatever happened, I didn’t want to inadvertently stomp on a dead person. Not that they would feel it or anything, but the thought still unnerved me. Having a picnic in a cemetery wouldn’t have been my first choice, but apparently, it didn’t bother Adam. He kept walking until we reached an ancient water oak in the corner of the lot.

  “Here we go.” Adam set the basket down under the tree before spreading out the blanket on the ground. He motioned for me to sit.