Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) (31 page)

I stop in front of him and cross my arms, taking a defensive stance.

“Let’s get something straight,” I tell him.  “I don’t jump when you say jump.  You should know by now I don’t respond well to rudeness.  You either treat me with respect or I walk away.  Am I making myself clear?  Or are you just so mad at me for whatever reason, we won’t be able to work together anymore?”

Mason’s eye
s remain impassive, and I can’t tell what he’s really thinking.

“I don’t expect you to jump when I say jump,” he finally says.  “I’ve never expected that from you, Jess.  And us working together,” he pauses like the next words are hard for him to say, “well, we don’t have much choice.  You’re stuck with me
, for the moment, to try and help you figure things out.”

“I don’t feel stuck with you,” I say in a low voice, treading the waters
carefully to see how he responds.

Mason laughs harshly.  “We’re stuck with each other whether we want to be or not.  It’s not like either of us ha
s a choice.”

I look down at the sidewalk at my feet, not wanting him to see the tears which are suddenly clouding my vision.
  I force them back promising myself a good cry when I get home but not now.  Not when he’s standing right in front of me, watching me.  I won’t give him the satisfaction.

I blink a few times to clear
the tears away and look back up at him.  He’s watching me quietly with hooded eyes, and I wonder if he knows how much his words have hurt me.  I force my mind to turn back to the work at hand.

“So do you know where this Chandler Cain guy is?”

“Yes, Nick found him.  He’s staying at a hotel in New York.  Apparently he has a concert tonight at Madison Square Garden.”

“Does he know we’re coming?”

“He should by now.  I had Isaiah go over and lay the ground work for us.  Ready?”

I nod.

Mason places his hand on my shoulder and I close my hands into fist as I realize he didn’t even try to hold my hand.

We are instantly standing in the hallway of a nice looking hotel.  Mason walks down the corridor without waiting to see if I am following him.  I do follow him but just because he seems to know where he’s going.

The sounds of an electric guitar come from down the hallway and I have to assume it’s where Chandler Cain can be found.

Mason knocks on the door and Isaiah answers it.

“What did you tell him?” Mason asks Isaiah.

“Just the basics.  That we need his help and that he doesn’t have much choice in giving it to us.”  Isaiah smiles rather pleased with himself.

“Are those the people we’ve been waiting on?” I hear a man ask from inside the room.

Isaiah opens the door a little wider and I see Chandler Cain sitting on a white
L-shaped sofa in a mostly white and black decorated living room holding a gloss black electric guitar in his lap.  Our eyes lock and I feel an instant connection with him.  Without taking his eyes off of me, he sits the guitar on the floor, leaning it against the couch he’s sitting on and walks directly to me like we’re tethered to one another by an invisible string.

If I had to put a picture of a rock star in the dictionary, it would most certainly look like Chandler Cain.  He has a strong square face with a dimpled chin, full lips and brown eyes so dark they almost look black.  His tawny brown hair is gelled into a messy style only the rich and handsome seem to be able to get away with wearing and actually making look good.  He’s dressed simply in a white T-shirt and
faded blue jeans ripped around the thighs.

When he reaches the door, he smiles at me and holds out his hand.

“I know you, don’t I?” he asks.

“The answer to that is yes and no,” I say, placing my hand in his and instantly feeling like I’ve found a long lost friend.

He tightens his fingers around mine and gently pulls me inside the room.  He’s still holding my hand when he urges me to sit with him on the couch he was sitting on when I arrived.  The ardent way he’s looking at me doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable.  In fact, I feel more comfortable in his presence than most of the people in my life.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” He questions, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, not trying to hide
the joy he feels being in my presence.

“Yes,” I say, finding it
impossible to keep a smile of my own from appearing.

Chandler
reaches up with his free hand, because his other one is still holding mine, and gently traces the side of my face with the tips of his fingers.  I close my eyes reveling in the contact.  Our closeness isn’t sexual in nature it’s the complete opposite for me.  I feel like I’m finally with someone who would never leave me or hurt me intentionally.  I know without a shadow of a doubt I can trust Chandler to fight by my side and stay with me no matter what dangers the future might hold for us.

“What’s your name?” He finally asks me, letting the hand he had on my face drop back into this lap.

“Jess Riley.”

“Chandler Cain,” he says, which makes me smile.

“Yes, I know who you are,” I tell him.

He holds my hand tighter.  “I can’t seem to make myself stop staring at you,” he apologizes with a light laugh.  “I’m not freaking you out
, am I?  I’m not normally this stalkery.  It’s usually me who gets stalked.”

I shake my head.  “No
, it’s all right.  I understand what you’re feeling.”

Finally, I make myself drag my eyes away from
Chandler’s face to look at Isaiah and Mason.

Isaiah is grinning at us but Mason’s expression almost breaks the peace I’ve found just being in
Chandler’s presence.  It’s almost like a dark shroud is covering Mason’s face as he glowers at how Chandler and I are reacting to one another.  If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was angry about something.

I decide to not let Mason
’s dark mood intrude in the happiness I’ve found being with Chandler and turn my full attention back to my new friend.

“So
, do you know what’s going on?” Chandler asks me, still completely confused why we’re sharing such a deep, instant connection.

“Yes,” I tell him.  “It’s going to be hard for you to believe.  But you have to trust me.”

“I trust you,” Chandler says.  I can see how surprised he is to say the words.  “I don’t know how or why but I know I can trust you completely.  Please, tell me what’s going on, Jess.”

I tell
Chandler everything that’s happened to me since killing the Owen changeling.  When I come to the part about finding the crown, the fiery sword and meeting Michael for the first time, Chandler’s eyes fill with pent up excitement.

“So I’m a vessel for an
archangel?” He asks me.

I nod.

“That is so wickedly cool!  Which one do I have?”

“I don’t know.  We’ll have to find your crown and whatever
talisman you were assigned before you can make first contact with your archangel.”

“So where do we start?  How do we find
my crown?”

I sigh heavily.  “Yeah, that
part might not be as easy as I made it sound.  My crown didn’t reveal its presence until after I killed the demon.  I’m not sure what your trigger will be but I suspect it will be different for all of us.”

“But
, I’m meant to find it right?” He asks like an excited child.  “If it’s fate, then I have nothing to worry about.  I’ve led a pretty charmed life so far.”

It’s not something I have trouble believing about
Chandler.  He’s so open to everything I can’t imagine he’s had a life filled with anything less than perfection.

“And now I’ve found you,” he says, smiling at me brightly.  “Or, I guess you found me.  Either way
,” he shrugs, “charmed life.”

Mason clears his throat to gain our attention.  “Now that the two of you have…found each other
,” he says, making it sound almost dirty, “maybe you should spend the rest of the day together.”  Although Mason is suggesting I spend the day with Chandler, his stiff demeanor seems to indicate he doesn’t really want me to.

“Great!”
Chandler says, reluctantly letting go of my hand to stand and walk over to a built in bar in the room.  “Want something to drink, Jess?  I don’t have alcohol, never liked the stuff myself, but I do have soda, water and juice.”

“Water i
s fine,” I tell him.

I stand up and walk over to Isaiah and Mason.

“So, any clue as to what might help trigger his crown to send out a homing beacon like mine did?”

“No,” Mason says
in a clipped voice, “we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.  I’ll have Joshua comb through Chandler’s records and pinpoint locations where it might show up.  It’s probably just a matter of time.”

“
Then do you just want me to stay here and keep an eye on him?  For how long?”

“Does it matter?” Mason asks brusquely.  “The two of you seem to be getting along rather well.  I didn’t think you would mind spending the day with him.”

I feel myself bristle.  “Why would I?” I ask, refusing to let him leave thinking otherwise.  “He’s handsome, sweet and actually seems to want to be around me.  What girl on this planet wouldn’t give her soul to spend a day alone with Chandler Cain in his penthouse suite?”

I see Mason ball his hands into fists.  “Call me when you’re ready to go back home,” he says
tersely.  “I’ll come get you.”

With that, Mason turns his back to me and phases.

“Let us know if you two need anything,” Isaiah says to me in a kinder voice than Mason’s.

I feel as though he wants to say more but thinks better of it before he phases away too.

“Wow,” Chandler says from the bar, pouring water over cubed ice in a glass.  “You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife…literally.  What’s the story there, Jess?”

“There is no story,” I say, going back to the couch and sitting down heavily on it.  I lean my head back on the soft cushion and close my eyes, feeling tired all of a sudden.

I feel Chandler’s weight dip the couch as he sits down beside me and I open my eyes.  He holds out the glass of ice water to me and I take it.  After drinking almost half of its contents, I set the glass down on the black lacquered coffee table in front of us.

“Ok, spill,”
Chandler says to me.  “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing,” I say.  “At least nothing now.  I thought there might be something but
now I think I must have just been deluding myself.”

“I don’t think you were.  Not from the way he was looking at you
before he left.  Trust me, a man doesn’t act that way unless he really cares about you.  To me, it looks like he cares about you more than he wants to admit to himself though.”

My heart lifts a little with hope from
Chandler’s words but I don’t let it last long.  I let Mason in once, thinking he would be different, but I wasn’t going to do it again until I knew for sure what his feelings for me were.  I wouldn’t torture myself with what might be.

Chandler
and I spend most of the morning talking about our lives.  I tell him everything.  Not leaving anything out.  I have to assume it’s our archangels making us so comfortable with each other and strangely enough I’m ok with that.  I have so few people in my life who I can confide in and I feel as though Chandler isn’t a new friend but an old one.

Compared to
Chandler’s life, I realize just how screwed up mine has been.  Apparently, he grew up in a small town in Georgia with the whole two story home, white picket fence, two dogs and a cat and loving parents who never argued scenario.  I almost envy him but realize there’s no reason to.  His life was meant to make him into the man he is and mine was meant to… what?  Make sure I was as screwed up as possible?  I push the thought aside because I don’t want to taint my time with Chandler dwelling on things in the past I have no way of changing.

That afternoon
Chandler asks me to attend his concert at Madison Square Garden.

“I have to get over there soon to do the sound check and make sure things are set up right. 
But, I want you to come see me perform.”

“Ok,” I say
, truly excited.  “This will be my first concert.”

Chandler
stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown horns on my head.

“You’re kidding right?”

“No,” I say shaking my head a little.  “This will be my first concert.”

“Hmm, well then, you have to let me
indoctrinate you into the life style of a rock star.”

He fishes his cell
phone out of his pocket and makes a call.

“Hey Deon, it
’s your favorite rock star,” Chandler says into the phone.  “I need to hire you for something.”  He pauses.  “Tonight.  I have a friend I want you to pamper for me.”  Pauses again and grins at something Deon says.  “No, not that type of friend.  This one is a real friend, not one of the girls.  Well, she is a girl but not one of the usual girls.  I want you to come over and get her ready for my concert tonight….No I don’t care what you need to get.  You have my card.  Ok, see you in a few.”