Read Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) Online
Authors: S.J. West
“I know,” Mason says, making me look at him in surprise
. I had a feeling Mason knew I was withholding information from him but this is the first time he’s said anything in front of me to verify my suspicions.
“Then how are we supposed to trust her if she doesn’t trust us?” Malcolm questions.
“Trust is earned,” Mason replies, looking at me, “not given.”
I find it hard to meet Mason’s eyes and start to wonder if
it’s time to reveal my secret to someone. When I look back at Mason, I feel an intense inexplicable urge to tell him everything. But, I decide to wait and see how my meeting with Lilly goes first. If she’s able to tell me exactly what’s different about me, maybe then I won’t feel like I’m betraying my promise to my father to keep my special gift a secret.
Mason holds his hand out to me. “Are you ready?”
“I’m not sure,” I say honestly.
Mason tries to give me a reassuring smile of encouragement which only makes my knees feel weak
because the expression makes him look so handsome. I mentally try to shake off the effect his smile is having on me and focus my thoughts on the day to come.
“Don’t worry,” he says, stretching his arm out further, urging me to take hold of his hand. “Trust me.”
I take a deep breath and slide my hand into Mason’s.
I find myself standing inside the foyer of
a home festooned to the hilt with tasteful Christmas garland wrapped in glittery red ribbon and other festive decorations. The spicy scent of pumpkin pie fills the air inside the house instantly putting me at ease. To the right, I see a large living room with a fire blazing in a river rock fireplace keeping the house toasty warm. To the left is a dining room where I see a man sitting at the table concentrating on something written in an old spiral notebook laying in front of him.
“Seriously, Brand,” I hear Malcolm say beside me. “Don’t you think its time you gave up on trying to write that poem? It’s been fifteen years. If the words haven’t come to you by now
, they never will.”
The man Malcolm addressed a
s Brand leans back in his chair and looks over at us. “My wife wants it done,” he says simply. “Maybe one day I’ll find the right combination of words to describe how wonderful she is.”
Brand stands from his chair and walks towards us.
“Jess Riley,” Mason says, as Brand comes to stand in front of me. “This is Lilly’s husband, Brand Cole.”
I remember Mason telling me Lilly’s love for a brother Watcher was what saved the universe from being destroyed by Lucifer. Yet, the man in front of me
is older than any Watcher I’ve seen. If I just based his Watcher status on looks alone, I have no doubt he could be a Watcher. His facial features are model perfect with the exception of small laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He has short wavy brown hair and grey eyes which seem to be lit with a light all their own. A few, almost unnoticeable, strands of grey are just starting to appear at his temples, marking his age at somewhere around 40.
Brand holds out his hand and I shake it. His easy smile almost eliminates
the fear Malcolm has instilled in me about meeting Lilly. I can’t imagine anyone married to the man standing in front of me not being just as open and welcoming as him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jess,” Brand says
, his voice lilting with a cultured British accent. Unlike some people you meet for the first time, I know he means what he says and that politeness isn’t dictating his words. “Lilly has been looking forward to meeting you and seeing the crown.” Brand’s eyes drop to the silver crown clasped tightly in my left hand. “It’s been a very long time since I saw one myself,” he admits.
A beautiful girl, around the age of fourteen or fifteen, b
ounds down the wooden staircase leading from the second floor. She comes to stand by Brand, and I immediately know she’s his daughter because they share the same extraordinary eye color. Her long auburn hair flows over her left shoulder like the fall of water and reaches down to her waist. Her features are exquisite and almost make me jealous of her beauty, but the sweet soul I see before me is not someone to be envied only cherished.
“And this is my daughter, Caylin,” Brand says, putting his arm around the girl’s shoulders so naturally
I know their relationship is a close one. For a fleeting moment, I do envy Caylin. I envy her having her father by her side.
“I have something for you from Joshua,” Mason says, handing Caylin the
ill wrapped present I noticed earlier in his hands.
“
Do I need to have another talk with that boy?” Malcolm asks, his eyebrows knitting together in a scowl.
“It’s just a gift, Malcolm,” Brand says. “Not a proposal of marriage.”
“Hmm,” Malcolm sounds less sure about that than Brand. “None the less, I’ll speak with him again just to make sure things stay innocent.”
“Uncle Malcolm,” Caylin says, smiling up at the man standing beside me. Her eyes beam at him so lovingly I know there has to be more to Malcolm than
what he’s shown me thus far. “Please leave Joshua alone. We’re just friends. Plus, you can’t chase off every boy who might like me.”
“
Who says I can’t?” Malcolm grunts. “Besides, boys Joshua’s age only think about two things constantly. One of them is food and the other…”
“Enough, Malcolm,” Brand says, effectively cutting Malcolm off
before he can embarrass us all. “I don’t think our guest came here to listen to our family squabbling.” Brand returns his attention to me. “Lilly is in the nursery with Mae. It’s right up the stairs, first room to the left.”
I look to Mason and he gives me an encouraging nod to go on up. Just as I walk to the
foot of the stairs, I feel the massive presence of Malcolm close to my back.
“Lilly said she wanted to meet with Jess alone,” Brand tells Malcolm.
“And I told her I wouldn’t allow that,” Malcolm responds back in a clipped voice.
Brand shrugs. “Suit yourself but don’t come crying to me after Lilly tears into you. You know she doesn’t like to be ignored.
It’s not like she would let Jess do anything to her anyway. She can take care of herself almost better than you can take care of her.”
I hear Malcolm sigh before he
takes a step back from me.
“Fine, but I want to go on record
that I don’t like it.”
“Duly noted,” Brands says and tilts his head to me indicating I should probably hurry up the stairs before Malcolm changes his mind.
When I reach the head of the stairs, I see a
door to my left painted with a mural of jewel colored dragons floating on a background of white fluffy clouds. Hanging on the door by a pink and white polka dot ribbon is the name Mae in a curly cue font.
I knock on the door and hear a woman
beckon from the other side to come in.
When I walk in, I feel my breath catch in my throat
from the beauty of the room. I feel as though I have just stepped into a magical wonderland with fantastical creatures walking and flying in a gardenscape so gorgeous it could only have been conjured up by someone who loves the meaning of life in its smallest details. Adorning the ceiling are puffy clouds that look three dimensional and are home to a multitude of chubby angelic creatures with white wings looking down as silent protectors to those below them.
A woman in her early thirties st
ands by a crib which looks like an open version of Cinderella’s carriage draped with glittery white material gathered at the top by a golden crown attached to the ceiling. The woman has the same color hair and facial features as Caylin, leaving no doubt I am finely face to face with Lilly.
“Hi,” she sa
ys in a whisper. “Come on in. I just got Mae to go to sleep so we should have a little while together. Close the door behind you. Brand has a baby monitor downstairs.”
I
’m not sure why it matters that her husband has a monitor but soon learn the answer. Lilly walks to a white rocking chair in the room and picks up a heavy brown quilted coat lying across it. After she buttons it up, she walks over to me and holds out her hand.
“Ready?” She ask
s.
I look at her offered hand not knowing exactly what
is going on.
“Ready for what?” I ask
, not trying to conceal my confusion.
“I seriously doubt even my husband will be able to keep Malcolm from coming up here to check on me. I thought perhaps we would go somewhere more private.” She h
olds her hand out to me again and it’s only then I understand what she intends. I suppose it really shouldn’t be a surprise to me that she can phase just like the Watchers. She is, after all, half archangel.
I place my hand in hers and suddenly find myself standing outside a quaint log cabin. The front door to the home opens and a black woman, around the same age as Lilly, steps out. From the
protrusion of her belly, I assume she’s close to giving birth.
“Well don’t just stand there,” the woman says
, waving us towards her. “Get in her before that big lug has a chance to follow you.”
Lilly squeezes my hand reassuringly and tugs me forward towards the house before releasing me.
After we step inside the cabin, Lilly turns to the other woman.
“
Tara, I would like to introduce you to Jess. Jess this is my best friend in the world, Tara.”
Tara
holds out her hand to me and I shake it.
“Nice to meet you hon,” she says. “Now, get going before he figures out what we’re
up to. I’ll keep him at bay for as long as I can but you know he has leverage over me.”
“I know,” Lilly says rolling her eyes at her best friend. “He’s your chocolate croissant dealer.”
“I can’t have him too mad at me,” Tara sighs, her eyes seem to drift off and I’m pretty sure she’s envisioning these chocolate croissants in her head.
Lilly laughs and gives her best friend a peck on the cheek. “Stand firm for as long as you can,” she tells
Tara.
Lilly holds her hand out to me again. Without hesitation this time, I place my hand into hers and find myself standing in the middle of a trail on the side of a mountain. When I look across the great expanse, I see a lake and a large house far in the distance.
“That’s my home,” Lilly tells me. “Malcolm built it for me years ago. We spend most of our time here when the kids don’t have to be in school.”
“Malcolm built that for you?” I question, wondering for a second time that day what type of man lay behind the rough and tough exterior of Lilly’s protector. The house ha
s a delicate quality to it which seems to match Lilly’s personality exactly, only someone who truly cared about her could have expressed it in architectural form.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Lilly says to me
, a smile in her voice. “He’s not just the person he shows to others. There’s more to him than that.”
This I have figured out on my own
.
“Anyway,” Lilly says, taking a seat in a hollow cut out
in the rock face behind us, “come and tell me about yourself, Jess.”
I walk over to the naturally made bench, snow crunching beneath my feet, and sit beside her.
“Not a whole lot to tell really,” I say. “My parents were taken through the Tear when I was seven. I was adopted a year later by my foster parent, worked hard to get my bachelor’s degree in three years instead of four and joined the Watcher agency as soon as I got out. Now I’m working for Mason and have never been so confused about who or what I am in my life.”
Lilly smiles in a way which tells me she understand
s exactly what I’m going through. “It can be hard to find out you aren’t who you thought you were,” she tells me. “But it can also be an exciting adventure if you let it. Sometimes information is kept from us until we’re ready to hear it. I know it’s scary to discover you’re more than you could have ever imagined, but now is the time for you to face certain truths about yourself and be open to accepting them. Your life so far has made you strong enough to handle what needs to be done from this point on.” I see Lilly look down at the crown still clutched in my hand. She holds out one of her hands to me. “May I see it?”
I try to hand the crown to Lilly, but I see the same thing which happened to Mason the day before
happen now. She’s unable grab hold of it, like there is an invisible force field no one but me can break through.
“Well,” Lilly says, I hear the surprise in her voice, “that’s interesting.” She puts her hand back in her lap. “
Would you mind holding it up so I can see the writing better?”
I hold the crown
up to her eye level. She points her index finger up and spins it indicating I should rotate the crown so she can see all sides of it.
“Hmm,” she says. “Have you been able to read the writing?”
I shake my head. “No, I thought all the engravings were just there for decoration,” my heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. “Mason didn’t say it was writing. Can you read it? Do you know what it says?”