by S. J. West
I nod, understanding the gravity of the situation.
I'm just not sure how I’m supposed to know whom to choose…
CHAPTER SIX
Aiden and I go home with my parents to wait out the hour.
When we get there, I go up to my room and change into a comfortable shirt and pair of jeans. After that, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I mean, what do you do while you wait to decide the fate of seven men? The burden of such a responsibility weighs heavily on my heart. Knowing that I will be asking the Watchers I choose to give up on their dream of starting families of their own for who knows how long isn't something I want to do. But, the task has been given to me whether I want it or not. I won't shirk it. I'll do what needs to be done. But, it doesn't mean I have to like it.
There's really only one thing that helps me relax.
“Would you pose for me?” I ask Aiden.
He nods as if he understands the turmoil I'm going through and is just relieved he can do something to help me.
“Of course,” he says.
We walk hand in hand out to my studio. When we get inside, I have him sit at the worktable he sat at earlier in the day. I put a fresh sketchpad on my easel and grab a pencil.
“Just sit comfortably,” I tell him. “I'm not trying to draw a masterpiece, just get my mind off of things.”
Aiden leans his arm on the table bent at the elbow just like before and rest his cheek against the palm of his hand.
“Are you worried about what you have to do?” He asks me.
I begin sketching him and simply nod my head, not really feeling in the mood to talk a lot.
“Don't be,” he says, “they all know what we're asking, and none of them are being forced to show up. That's why Mason decided to give them a choice.”
“What if no one shows up?” I ask, considering this a real possibility.
“I seriously doubt that will happen,” Aiden says confidently. “I don't see any of them not showing up. They understand what we need to do is important.”
“Did Mason tell any of them that the princes stole something from Heaven?”
Aiden shakes his head. “No, he decided to wait before sharing that kind of information. I think he only wants to tell those you choose the whole story about what's really going on.”
I continue to sketch Aiden and end up completely losing myself in his portrait. He barely moves as he watches me draw him, and again, I feel comforted just by his presence. As I'm shading the contours of his lips on my sketch of him, I begin to wonder why I'm not kissing those same lips at that very moment.
I look over at Aiden and feel my heart’s pace quicken.
One side of Aiden’s mouth quirks up into a lop-sided grin and his eyes sparkle with anticipation. I have a sneaking suspicion he knows where my thoughts have wondered off to.
I slowly lay my pencil down and walk around the easel to his side of the table. Aiden doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I approach him. When I get closer, he turns to face me and spreads his legs apart knowing what it is I want without me having to say anything. I slide my arms over his shoulders and bury my fingers into his silky mass of curls, not even taking a breath before pressing my lips to his.
Aiden lets out a small moan of pleasure as I tease his mouth open with my tongue. He wraps his arms around my waist bringing our bodies even closer to one another until I’m pressed so hard against him I can feel his muscles move beneath his crisp white shirt.
I feel Aiden’s hold around my waist loosen as we continue to kiss, exploring each other’s mouths with soft, teasing lips. Aiden’s hands begin to rub the small of my back through my shirt for a while before venturing below the hem to slide halfway up my bare back to just below my bra. I sigh from the pleasure, enjoying the feel of his hands against my flesh, but, just like earlier, he slips his hands back out from underneath my shirt and rests them on my hips.
I break our kiss to look down at him.
He opens his eyes and looks up at me like he’s confused by why I've stopped kissing him.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I ask him in a whisper.
“Doing what?” He whispers back.
“Touching me then taking your hands away.”
“I’m…I’m testing myself,” he says, as if the admission is hard for him to make. “I don’t want to go so far that I can’t pull back.”
I cradle the sides of Aiden’s face with my hands and look him straight in the eyes to make sure he hears every word I say to him.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you won’t hurt me? I trust you, Aiden.”
“But I don’t trust myself,” he confesses. “If I ever…went too far before you were ready, I would hate myself.”
“I think you’re forgetting something,” I tell him. “I’m stronger than you. If you ever do something I’m not ready for, I can always push you away. I could probably throw you into the next county if I really wanted to. So, please, stop thinking you'll hurt me because I would never let that happen. And, honestly, I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're stronger than you think, especially where I'm concerned.”
Aiden’s expression turns hopeful, like I’ve just said exactly what he needs to hear.
“Then kiss me, beautiful,” he says with a relaxed grin, “and let’s try this again.”
My lips melt against Aiden’s, and I feel his hands return underneath my shirt to the small of my back. I try not to sigh at the feel of his skin against mine because he seems to take that as his cue to stop touching me, something I desperately don't want him to do. I’m not sure if it’s because the sound of my contentment is more than he can take or if he fears I might become too excited and let him go further than he should. Either way, I try to control my own reaction to his caresses because I want to know what it feels like to have his hands on my body.
Aiden slides his hands over to my sides and begins to rub the sensitive skin there with gentle circular motions of his thumbs. It’s a small caress but the effect it has on my body makes me yearn for more from him.
After a while, I reluctantly pull away from Aiden because his words of caution to me also had an effect. I don’t want to go too fast, too soon for either of us.
I plant small kisses on both his cheeks which makes him smile. I continue to kiss him across his forehead and finally end our little make out session with a chaste kiss on the lips.
Aiden slips his hands out from under my shirt and straightens it against my hips as if he’s trying to make sure everything is in its proper place.
He wraps his arms around my waist again, obviously not wanting to let me go just yet. I cradle his head against my chest and absently play with his curls.
“You’re real, right?” Aiden asks me, squeezing me tighter to him as if attempting to answer his own question. “I’m not in some dream where I’ll wake up and find myself in a waking nightmare where you don’t exist, am I?”
“No, this isn’t a dream,” I tell him, wishing he felt like he deserved the happiness he’s found with me instead of waiting for something bad to happen. “I’m very real, Aiden. And I’m all yours.”
This time Aiden is the one who sighs in contentment and I smile.
Aiden’s built in Watcher alarm clock goes off, and he tells me he needs to go home to change before the meeting.
“Change?” I ask. “Like change clothes?”
Aiden nods. “For this type of thing, we always put on our formal wear.”
I suddenly remember Aunt Tara telling me about the time all the Watchers wore such an outfit.
“So you’re about to go change into black leather pants, boots and a feathered cloak without a shirt on, right?” I ask, unable to stop an eager smile from lighting up my face.
“Yes,” Aiden says, returning my smile with a knowing one. “Does that turn you on, beautiful?”
I let out a small nervous laugh. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing you in it.”
> “Do me a favor,” he says, losing his smile and turning serious. “Stay by your mother and Malcolm until I come back. I don't think the princes will try to do anything to you if they're nearby. They’re cowards for the most part. They like to be the ones who do the outnumbering, not be outnumbered.”
I nod. “I will. Go change and come back to me.”
Aiden stands from his stool and leans down to kiss me one more time.
“Phase inside first,” he urges. “Then I'll go.”
“Ok,” I say but instead of phasing, I raise up slightly on my toes and kiss him again.
“Don't take too long,” I tell him after the kiss.
“I won't,” he promises, his eyes sparkling with unadulterated happiness.
I phase into the house and find my Uncle Malcolm there speaking with my dad in the living room.
Uncle Malcolm has already changed into his formal Watcher attire and the image he makes is a little disturbing, at least it is to me. I'm sure to any other normal, red-blooded female in the world Uncle Malcolm's look would lay them out cold or force them to throw caution to the wind and jump him on the spot.
But, for me, his niece, I feel a little embarrassed for finding him attractive. Uncle Malcolm has always shown a lot of chest with his constant array of open shirts. Yet, for some reason, he looks dangerous in his Watcher wear, like a bird of prey about to devour his victim whole. Or, maybe it just seems that way to me because the Watchers who helped Levi were dressed exactly the same way. I'm not sure.
When I walk up to them, I see the same concerned look on both their faces that they had at the reception when my mother broke down into tears.
“How's mom?” I ask them. “Is she feeling any better?”
My dad sighs. “Would you mind going upstairs and speaking with her? She won't tell us anything. It's obvious something is bothering her, but she's refusing to say what exactly.”
“I don't like it,” Uncle Malcolm says, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “It's not natural for her to be so depressed. She's acting like she did when we lost Utha Mae and Will, like someone is dead. Do you have any idea what's going on with her, Caylin?”
I ignore the question because if I don't I might give something away.
“Let me go see what I can do,” I tell them and immediately phase before Uncle Malcolm can ask me anything else.
I knock on my parents' bedroom door and hear my mother softly say, “Come in.”
When I walk into the bedroom, I find my mom sitting up on the bed hugging a pillow to her body and resting her chin on top of it. She looks over at me when I enter the room and sighs.
“Did they send you up here?” She asks me, not needing to identify who 'they' are.
“Uncle Malcolm and dad are worried about you,” I tell her, closing the door behind me and walking over to the bed to sit beside my mom. “What's wrong?”
My mom shakes her head. “I just...I just can't seem to get Anna out of my head. And the worst thing is I can't even talk about her with your dad. It's like I'm being blocked from even mentioning her to anyone but you. I'm frustrated by that and… not telling your Uncle Malcolm about his future is killing me.”
“Then tell him,” I say to her. “God said you were the only one who could.”
“But that's just me being selfish. He doesn't need to know yet, and I refuse to be the reason he withdraws from us.”
“Do you think he would?” I ask, not expecting this answer. “Do you think he would stop coming around us if he knew?”
My mom sighs again. “I don't know. Maybe. He might think it would be easier on him in the long run if he wasn't so connected to our family and able to put some distance between us before we die.”
“Then don't tell him,” I say resolutely. “He needs us, and we need him. Let him be happy for as long as he can be. If you love him at all, that's what you need to do. You need to sacrifice a little bit of your own happiness to make sure he keeps all of his until you have to tell him the truth. But, you need to snap out of this, Mom. You're making them both miserable.”
My mom looks at me and smiles wanly.
“How did you become so wise?”
“I learned from the best,” I tell her. “Now, come on. We have a group of Watchers we need to go meet.”
“Your father and I aren't coming with you.”
I stare at my mom completely convinced I misunderstood her.
“You're not coming? Why?”
“Because this is something you need to do on your own,” she tells me. “This is your decision to make, and I don't want to be any sort of influence on who you choose.”
I understand her reasoning, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow.
“Aiden will be there with you,” she says. “It's time the two of you start making decisions about your future together. The men you choose will be in your life and the lives of your descendants for a very long time. I have absolutely no doubt that you will make the right choices. Just listen to your heart, Caylin. It'll never steer you wrong.”
“Ok, Mom. I'll do my best.”
My mother places one of her hands on mine, which are clasped in my lap, and squeezes them reassuringly.
“You're strong. And I don't mean your physical strength. You can handle anything that's coming. Remember that, sweetie.”
I nod but don't say anything.
I hope my mother is right because I have a feeling the worst is yet to come.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My mom walks back downstairs with me with a new attitude. I find it weird that I just gave my mother advice that's actually helped her. It's usually the other way around. But, like I told her, I did learn from the best. She is the wisest woman I know, and I feel joy in the knowledge that I have apparently inherited some of her wisdom and her ability to make others see logic.
My mom stops at the foot of the stairs and my dad walks over to her. He runs a hand lovingly down her left arm, taking her hand into his.
“Are you feeling better?” He asks her, concern over her odd behavior evident on his face.
My mother gives him an easy smile, like she's finally come to peace with her decision not to tell Uncle Malcolm about his future and with her need to not mention Anna to anyone, not even my father.
“Yes, I'm better now. I'm sorry I made you worry.” My mom looks over at Uncle Malcolm. “I'm sorry I made you both worry.”
“When have we not worried about you?” Uncle Malcolm asks, not in a joking voice but completely serious.
“Well, don't,” my mother tells them both. “I'm fine now and we have more important things to concern ourselves with.”
There's a knock at the front door.
Reluctantly, my dad lets go of my mother’s hand and goes to answer it.
Aiden stands there dressed in his Watcher formal wear, which is identical in every way to Uncle Malcolm's.
I force myself not to gasp when I see him, but the picture he makes dressed the way he is makes him look like he belongs on a throne in some far off mystical kingdom. With his broad shoulders draped by the black feathered cloak and tight fitting leather pants hugging his hips and legs like a second skin, I find it impossible to take my eyes off him.
“Aiden,” my dad says, “you could have just phased inside the house.”
“I didn't want to presume I had such a privilege,” Aiden tells my dad.
“You have my permission,” my dad tells him. “You're basically a part of this family now.”
“Thank you,” Aiden says with a small, pleased grin on his face as he realizes my father has finally accepted him as a permanent fixture in our lives.
My dad steps away from the door and Aiden walks over the threshold. His eyes meet mine. A smile stretches his lips like he’s amused by something. It's only then I realize my mouth is ajar, and I’m openly gaping at him.
I clear my throat and close my mouth, feeling slightly embarrassed that he caught me ogling him. But, dear Lord, who in their right mind w
ould blame me?
He is magnificent.
Aiden walks over to me. The heels of his knee-high boots click against the wood floor at his approach, and again, I can't help but notice how fluid his movements are.
“Are you ready?” He asks me.
“I don't think it matters if I'm ready or not,” I tell him.
He holds out one of his hands to me, and I instantly grab hold of it, finding comfort in the simple touch.
I sense Uncle Malcolm come up behind me.
“It's time,” he says.
I look at my mom and dad.
“You'll do great,” my dad says with absolute confidence.
I nod, not feeling as confident as he seems to be in my judgment.
I feel Aiden squeeze my hand and my home slips away as we phase.
I find myself standing on top of a dune in the middle of a desert.
The Watchers stand in front of me all dressed in their black formal wear, making a dark contrast against the white sand. Like a well-trained army, they all fall to one knee in front of me.
“Caylin,” Mason says, and I look to the right of me to see Mason and Jess standing there together. “Pick your seven chosen.”
I look back out at the Watchers and suddenly realize the choice isn’t up to me, not really. Five of the Watchers in the group glow as though the rays of the sun above are shining down on them like a spot light. I breathe a sigh of relief because it looks like God has chosen for me. I glance behind me to look at Uncle Malcolm and see that he’s glowing as well. I had already assumed he would be but needed to make sure. I should have known God wouldn't have changed His mind about Uncle Malcolm's fate, but it was an outcome worth wishing for.
Still holding Aiden's hand, I begin to walk out among the Watchers gathered to let them know who has been selected.
The first Watcher is Desmond, Aiden's friend.
Desmond smiles as I approach him, as if he knew somehow that he would be chosen.
“I guess you need the best on your team,” he says to me with a grin as he stands to his feet. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn't picked me.”
