Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) (13 page)

I nod my head, not trusting my voice to be strong enough
because I desperately do want to be somewhere else right now.

Mason rests his hand on the step between us palm up, letting me
be in control of when we leave.

I take a deep breath and
place my hand in his.  His fingers close around my hand gently.

“Here we go,” he says, warning me we’re about to phase.

I smile at the thoughtfulness remembering all too well how aggravated I was at him the night before when he would phase me without warning.

I suddenly find us sitting out
doors on a grassy plain with large rectangular stones looming all around us in a circle.  I know where we are instantly: Stonehenge.

Mason stands up
and helps me to my feet since he’s still holding my hand.  He keeps holding my hand as he says, “I like to come here when I need to think about things.  I find it peaceful.  I thought you might like it too.”

“
You know,” I say looking around the ancient structure, “I think I’ve seen more of the world in the past 24 hours than I have my whole entire life.”

“Hopefully, you’ll
allow me to show you more of it,” Mason says before letting go of my hand.

I walk up to one of the stones and let my
right hand glide against its cold, rough surface.  It’s night time in England and I’m thankful I still have my leather jacket on.  The full moon is high in a clear night sky decorated with a multitude of pin point stars.  I lean my back against the stone and close my eyes, cleansing not only my lungs but my mind by breathing in the clean night air.  It’s crisp coolness helps ease the pain inside my chest, forcing the invisible hand gripping my heart to relax and fade away.

Being in a
foreign part of the world makes me realize how sheltered my life has been thus far.  I open my eyes and look around me, marveling at the magnificence of a place which has existed for thousands of years but is completely new to me.  It makes me wonder how many firsts I will share with Mason acting as my guide.

I look back at where Mason stands and notice him watching me. 

“How often do you come here?” I ask, feeling a need to fill the silence between us.

“Not as often as I would like,” he admits.  “I used to come here
quite a bit before the Tear but after the Tear I haven’t had much time.”  Mason seems hesitant to speak further but eventually asks, “Would you like to talk about it?”

I shrug feeling the
withdrawn child within me try to shy away from the question.

“I seriously doubt you want to hear the sordid details,” I tell him.

“I’m sorry you had to endure something like that as a child, especially after losing your parents so suddenly.”

I’m touched by Mason’s sincerity, but I honestly just want to forget about it not delve head long into any type of psychoanalysis of how my screwed up childhood made me into the touchy, withdrawn adult I am today.

“You said you felt me,” I say.  “Was it like the time I killed Owen?  You said you felt me then too.”

Mason’s head tilts down like he’s trying to find the words to describe what he felt.  “I don’t know why Lucifer and I can feel when you are in pain.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but for some reason we’re connected to you by your emotions.”

“Do you think it’s only my pain you can feel?”

“I don’t know,” Mason shrugs.  “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

I push my body off the stone at my back and walk towards Mason.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I tell him.  “I
needed it.”

“I hope it
helped in some small way,” he says, holding his hand out.  “Ready to go back?”

No, not really, I say to myself.  But I know I need to go back.  I can’t hide from my life forever.

When Mason phases me back, we’re standing outside the hospital entrance.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go back in or not,” he
explains.

“This is perfect,” I reassure him.  “I really
don't want to go back in.  I’ll just call Faison and tell her to come out.”

“Do you want me to stay with you
until she arrives?” He asks.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, well, don’t forget to call me after Malcolm’s visit,” he gently reminds me.

I silently curse to myself.  I had completely forgotten about Lilly’s guardian coming to see me.

I nod my head.  “I will.”

Mason seems reluctant to leave me
, and I have to admit I’m a bit reluctant to see him leave.  His presence comforts me for some reason.

“I’ll be waiting for you
r call,” he says.

I nod.  “Ok.”

He phases and I’m left alone, something which I’m used to.  Yet, for one of the first times in my life I don’t want to be.  

We ma
ke it back home at around six that evening.  Close to seven is when I hear my doorbell ring.  I turn the TV off and steel myself for what I assume will be an interrogation of sorts from Lilly’s guardian, Malcolm.

When I open the door, I come face to face with
one of the largest men I’ve ever seen.  He reminds me of the men who adorn the covers of Mama Lynn’s historical romance novels.  With his rugged good looks and long black hair falling to frame either side of his face, I can only imagine he gains a lot of attention from the fairer sex quite easily.  He’s wearing a blood red silk shirt opened at the front to reveal a quite impressively taunt chest.  The shirt is tucked into a pair of tight fitting black jeans with a black leather duster completing the ensemble.

“Hi,” I say.  “Are you Malcolm?”

He grins at me in a friendly enough manner but his eyes tell me he’s not someone whose trust I will earn instantly.

“And you must be Jess Riley.  Or would you prefer I called you Agent Riley?”

“Jess is fine.”

“I assume Mason told you why I’m here.”

“Yes.  He said I couldn’t meet Lilly unless you approved of me first.”

“Exactly right,” he says
.  “May I come in so we can speak?”

I step out onto the porch forcing Malcolm to take
a step back.

“I would rather we spoke out here if you don’t mind.”  Letting another Watcher have free reign to come and go inside my house wasn’t something I was willing to do.

A lop sided grin appears on Malcolm’s face and I realize he knows exactly why I’m refusing him entry.

“Good,” he says
, nodding his head.  “You understand the importance of privacy.  Most people would have done the polite thing, not the smart thing.  Now,” he crosses his arms in front of his chest and takes a defensive stance.  “Can you tell me exactly how you have been able to accomplish these amazing feats I’ve heard about from Mason?  Do you honestly not know what makes you different?”

“No,” I say without having to lie, “I don’t know why I’ve been able to do the things I have.”

“You must have some sort of clue,” Malcolm prods.

Like everyone else, I know Malcolm is fishing for the information I’ve kept to myself about my father.  Since I have no intention of telling Mason
until I absolutely have to, I certainly don’t intend to tell Malcolm.

“I really don’t know,” I say
.  Malcolm’s eyes darken slightly, indicating he doesn’t believe me in the slightest.

“I’m not sure I can let you meet with Lilly,” Malcolm says.  “Honesty is an important trait to
her.  If she senses you aren’t being completely open, I’m afraid the two of you won’t be starting off on the right foot.  She doesn’t put up with liars.”

A cell phone in Malcolm’s jacket begins to buzz.

“Excuse me,” he says turning his back to me and fishing the phone out of his pocket.

“Yes, dearest?”  He ask, his tone immediately softening.  “No, I haven’t forgotten to go get the chocolate croissants for
Tara.”  He pauses as whoever is on the other end of the line says something.  “I don’t think so.  She’s lying to me about something.” I know he’s talking about me and cringe a little inside.  I don’t like being called a liar but I can’t deny that’s what I’m doing.  “I don’t think that’s wise, dearest.  Trust me on this.”  Another long pause before Malcolm sighs in resignation.  “If you’re sure that’s what you want, then I will do it.  But, I don’t like it and I will be watching closely.  You can at least give me that much to ensure your safety.”  It’s then I realize he’s speaking to Lilly. “All right, I’ll tell her.  And tell Tara to have a little patience.  I know she’s eating for two now.  She doesn’t have to keep reminding me.”  Malcolm laughs at something Lilly says.  It’s a nice sound and something I never would have expected to hear from someone as formidable as him.  “Ok, I’ll keep that in mind.  I’ll be home soon.”

After Malcolm ends the call, he turns around to face me.  His demeanor is back to hard as nails interrogator and I wonder how Lilly found a way to make the man in front of me melt to her will just
with a simple phone call.  It’s then I realize she must be a miracle worker.

“Lilly says she wants to meet you even though I disagree,” Malcolm
tells me, not trying to hide the fact that he doesn’t trust me around Lilly.  “But I’m warning you,” he says, taking a step forward, looming over me.  “I will be watching.”

“I understand,” I say, knowing
without a shadow of a doubt Malcolm will rip my head from my shoulders if I even so much as look at Lilly the wrong way.  I have to admit.  I’m even more intrigued to meet with Lilly now.  Mason and Malcolm are two of the most intimidating men I’ve ever met, yet their concern over Lilly’s safety seems to touch a soft spot in each of them.  It makes me wonder what my reaction to her will be.

After Malcolm leaves, I call Mason to tell him what happened.

“Lilly must have known Malcolm would find something to use as an excuse to prevent you from seeing her,” Mason sounds amused over the phone, like he expected Malcolm to disapprove of the meeting even before he came to see me.  “Be ready by nine in the morning,” Mason tells me.  “We’ll go see Lilly together.  Oh, and dress warmly.  It snows in the mountains.”  Mason pauses before asking, “Are you all right, Jess?”

With his simple question,
I know he’s still worried about me and what happened earlier at the hospital.  His concern for my welfare warms my heart, making me wonder why he seems to care so much.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.
  “Thank you for asking.”

“All right,” he doesn’t sound convinced but doesn’t push me for anything else either.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When I get off the phone, I suddenly realize my stomach is tied up in knots at my upcoming meeting with Lilly.  What if Lilly uses whatever special powers she possesses on me too?  What if she doesn’t allow me to keep my secret from her?  I realize I’m biting the side of my bottom lip in worry and wonder what new revelations the next day will bring.

There is a knock on my door at exactly
nine the next morning.  When I answer it, I find Mason standing on the porch dressed in a dark brown suede coat over a dark grey wool button down cardigan and white collared shirt.  A pair of tan jeans and sturdy looking brown leather boots completes his winter wardrobe.  In his left hand is something which resembles a Christmas present.  By its rectangular shape and exposed corners, I can tell it’s a book of some sort.  The only thing holding the red crinkly paper around it is the silky white ribbon tied in a crosswise bow.

I decided to dress as warmly as I could since snow wasn’t exactly something I had to contend with every day.  I
have on an eggshell colored cable turtleneck sweater and slim fitting black jeans tucked in at the ends into a pair of shearling cuffed black suede UGG boots.

I grab my eggplant colored fox fur trimmed coat from the chair by the door and quickly put i
t on as Mason asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute to get the crown,” I say, quickly tying the belt of my coat around my waist as I head to my bedroom and drag the crown out from under
the super secret hiding spot beneath my pillow.  I make a vow to myself to find a better hidey hole for it when I get back home.

When I make it back to the front door, I see that Mason isn’t alone
anymore.

“As I said last night,”
Malcolm tells me, looking similarly dressed as the last time I saw him except that the shirt he’s wearing is emerald green not scarlet in color, “I’ll be watching.”

I feel myself swallow involuntarily and wonder if I made the right decision in leaving my plasma pistol at home.  I miss its weight against my thigh, especially when I find myself in a hostile situation.

“Malcolm,” Mason says, in a tone which makes Malcolm’s stance not as stiff, “Jess is no threat to Lilly.  If I thought she was, do you honestly think I would have suggested this meeting?”

Malcolm scowls at me.  “She’s lying about something,” he says to Mason but keeps his eyes on me
as if he’s watching for my reaction to what he has to say.  “Even I can tell that. 
You
have to know it’s true.”