Oblivion (The Watcher Chronicles #3) (2 page)

“Do you like being the center of attention?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow at one perky little blonde Watcher agent who seems determined to devour Mason with just her eyes.

“No,” Mason says, still smiling.  “But I like it when you’re over protective of me too.”

“I just want to make sure they understand you’re off limits.  I don’t share,” I reply, staring daggers at a pretty brunette who passes by us trying her best to look coyly at Mason.  She seems to get the hint of my death stare and scurries away quickly.

“Neither do I,” Mason says ominously.

“You sound worried,” I say, returning my full attention to him.  “Why?”

“Malcolm used to be quite different before he met Lilly,” Mason tells me, a warning in his voice.  “Considering what’s happened on this Earth, I have to assume this version of Malcolm has probably never met her.”

“I don’t understand how things can be so different here,” I say.  “What do you think happened?”

Mason shakes his head.  “I don’t know but I think the sooner we find Faison the better.  This isn’t our reality and I’d rather not make things worse with our presence.”

Albert escorts us up to the tenth floor of the building and into a nondescript office with a glass wall facing out towards a completely fenced in Central Park.  He asks for our personal information and enters it into the computer.  Mason has to lie about almost everything but he seems to be rather good at conjuring up a false identity for himself.

“Could you look to see if you have a Faison Mills in your database?” I ask Albert.  “She went through the Tear tonight too.”

Albert seems to punch her name into the computer and shakes his head.  “No, she’s not in here.  Could be she just hasn’t been found yet.”

I nod knowing this is probably the case.  Not all tearers are found the first night they come through.  Some hide out where they can, too frightened of their new circumstances to seek out help.  Most are found within the first month, but there are some, mostly of the criminal persuasion, who aren’t located until they’re caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

I have no way of knowing what Faison’s mental state is at the moment.  For all I know, she could be stranded on a street corner somewhere crying.  I do know I need to get out and start searching for her as soon as I can though.

“Hmm,” Albert says as he stares at the screen with a confused expression on his face.  “Neither of you seem to have a double here on this Earth.”

“That’s not unusual,” I say.  “We might have doppelgangers here but their names might be different.  Or, we just don’t exist here.”

“Eighty percent of the people who come from different Earths have doubles here,” Albert says, and I know his statistical analysis is correct.  It works out to that much on our Earth too.  “It’s just odd that neither of you have one.  I would have thought at least one of you would.”

“I guess that just makes us unique,” I say, trying to play off the odds.

If one of us didn’t happen to be an angel, the odds would lean more towards our favor.  I have no way of knowing if I have a counterpart here or not.  The other Jess might not have my name due to her specific life circumstances. 

The phone on Albert’s desk rings.

“Agent Washington,” Albert says as he answers it.  Albert’s posture suddenly changes from relaxed to tense.  His eyes shift to us nervously as he listens to the person on the other end of the line.  “Yes, Chancellor, I understand.”

Albert hangs up and stares at the phone for a moment like he’s trying to decide something.

“That was Chancellor Malcolm,” Albert tells us.  “He wants to see the two of you immediately.”

“How did he even know we were here?” I ask.

“Someone informed him we had a Watcher agent come through the Tear.  Apparently, he wants to ask you for information about your world.”

From the worried expression on Albert’s face, I get the feeling being summoned to appear in front of Malcolm on this particular night isn’t a good thing.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Top floor penthouse,” Albert informs us.  “We better go.  He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

When we get into the elevator, Albert pushes the ‘P’ on the control panel.

“Please place your right eye directly in front of the retinal scanner,” a disembodied female voice directs.

Albert leans forward towards a small lens above the buttons on the control panel.

“Thank you, Agent Washington.”

The elevator begins to rise.

I reach for Mason’s hand for comfort as I watch the numbers above the elevator doors change.  I have no idea what will happen when we come face to face with Malcolm but with Mason at my side I know I can face anything.

When the doors of the elevator open, we find ourselves in an antechamber with one set of black double doors embossed with a silver ‘W’ and ‘A’ directly across from us.  Two female Watcher agents, both stunningly beautiful, are stationed on either side of the door.

When we walk up to them, one of them presses her hand on a scanner embedded in the wall and I hear the lock in the doors disengage.  One of the doors automatically swings inward.

Albert sweeps his hand in front of him indicating we should walk into the room.

“He only wants to speak with the two of you,” Albert tells us.

I squeeze Mason’s hand even tighter and we walk into Malcolm’s lair together.

The room is dark except for the glow from the fire in the giant stone fireplace in the living room area.  The fireplace is so large you could fit a cow whole on a spit inside it.  As we stand on the polished dark wood floor of the entrance, my eyes are drawn to the glass wall in the room and I realize this one room is as big as my house.  I see the silhouette of a tall, muscular man standing in front of the glass wall and know it must be Malcolm.  He’s looking out over the city he controls with his hands clasped loosely behind him.  He’s shirtless with his long black hair covering most of his bare back.  He only seems to be wearing a pair of red silk pajama bottoms.

“We’ve never had a Watcher agent come through the Tear before,” he says, not bothering to look our way as he addresses us.

“First time for everything, I guess,” I reply.

Malcolm slowly turns around.  His face is hidden in the shadows so I’m unable to see his expression.  He stares at us for what seems like forever before finally walking in our direction with an unhurried gate.  When he reaches us, his gaze remains steady on Mason.  Unlike the Malcolm on our Earth, this Malcolm’s blue Watcher aura is tainted with a tinge of black, like its corrupted.

“Odd to see you again, Samyaza,” Malcolm says to Mason, a look of confusion on his face.  “You should be dead.”  

Chapter 2

“Dead?”  Mason questions.  “Why would I be dead?”

“You died in the war against Lucifer in my reality,” Malcolm reveals.

“The war in Heaven?” I ask, needing clarification on which battle with Lucifer he’s talking about.

“Yes,” Malcolm confirms, staring openly at Mason’s scar.  “Why did the old bastard do that to your face?  What sin did He think you committed to deserve the mark of His wrath?”

“I did nothing to stop the Watchers under my command from taking human wives and having children with them.  This is my reminder of that failure.”

“You commanded the Watchers on your Earth?”

“Yes.”

Malcolm snorts derisively.  “Knowing you I doubt you led your Watchers to take the Earth over when the Tear appeared.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Too bad.”  Malcolm smiles wickedly.  “It’s been a lot of fun so far.”

“Our father asked us to find a way to seal the Tear, not control the humans.”

“Must be nice to have Him talk to you directly,” Malcolm says.  “He’s pretty much abandoned us on this Earth.”

“Why would He do that?” Mason asks.

“Probably because almost all of us follow Lucifer now.”

“Why?” I ask, wanting to understand what went wrong here to make the Watchers willingly follow Lucifer.

My question brings Malcolm’s full attention to me, and I immediately wish I had kept my big mouth shut.  Malcolm’s eyes rake my body in one long sweep.  A lascivious smiles creep onto his face.  It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s imagining us doing together in his mind.

“Agent Riley, isn’t it?” Malcolm asks, his tone of voice becoming more of a murmur as he addresses me.

“Yes.”

“I have a very important question for you, agent.  How does the agency on your Earth usually handle the child of a Watcher if they travel to your reality?”

“Why do you ask?” I question instead of answering.

“Just answer the damn question!”  Malcolm roars, a glint of madness entering in his eyes.

“I guess it would depend on whether they were in their human form or werewolf form,” I reply cautiously, knowing this conversation could easily head into a downward spiral rather quickly if I’m not careful.

“And if they were in their werewolf form?”

“I would imagine if they started to attack people they would be shot.”

Malcolm grimaces slightly at my answer.

“Why are you asking Jess these questions?”  Mason says.  “What’s happened?”

Malcolm closes his eyes and runs both of his hands through his hair, looking haggard all of a sudden.

“My son went through the Tear tonight,” Malcolm tells us.

All at once I feel frightened and excited.  If Malcolm’s son was the werewolf who took Faison’s place, I fear what he will do to me once he learns that I killed him.  But, if it
was
Malcolm’s son, then I have a lead on where Faison is now.

“Did someone from our world take his place?” I ask cautiously.

Malcolm opens his eyes and looks at me. 

“That’s usually the way it works, isn’t it?”  He asks sarcastically.

“Yes, of course it is.  Would you happen to know where that person is now?”

“Why are you so interested?”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant.  “We were told some Watchers were playing Bait in the park with their children.  I was just wondering if your son was one of them.  If he was, the human from our world probably didn’t live long if your son was grouped with the other Watcher children.”

“I’ve never allowed Sebastian to play in those games.  He’s never been allowed to taste human flesh.”

“You’ve protected him all this time?” Mason asks, surprise in his voice.

Malcolm looks at Mason.  “I didn’t want him to lose his soul like I did.  I wanted him to have a chance of reaching Heaven one day.  I just hope he didn’t attack someone when he traveled to your world.  And if he did, I hope he was killed before he took a human life.”

I feel torn.  I’m fairly certain now Malcolm’s son was the werewolf I killed.  But how do I tell a grieving father that news and not lose my head in the process?

“So where is the traveler who took his place?” I ask.

Malcolm narrows his eyes on me and I know he suspects something is out of place.

“Why so curious?” He asks.  “Odds are you don’t even know them.”

“They’re probably scared,” I answer.  “They might like to be with others from their own reality.  I’m trained to take care of travelers.  I might be of use.”

“As far as I know, the girl was taken to the Watcher station near my son’s home.”

“And where is that?”

“Again,” Malcolm says, crossing his arms over the large expanse of his chest spreading his legs in a defensive stance, “why so curious?”

“We just want to know if we can help this girl,” Mason replies, trying to divert Malcolm’s attention away from me.

But Malcolm isn’t stupid, unfortunately.

“What aren’t you telling me Samyaza?  Why is this girl so important to the two of you?”  Malcolm’s eyes wander from my face to the sword hilt peeking out from behind my back.  “That sword.  Pull it out so I can see it more clearly.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Don’t question me and just do as you’re told!”

I feel the bracelet JoJo and Chandler made for me become warm and I know Malcolm is reaching a point where he’s becoming a danger to me.  Not wanting to anger him further, I reach behind my back and pull the sword from its sheath.

As the blade leaves the scabbard, it instantly begins to blaze, the flames flicker along its edge chasing away the hopelessness of the Earth we’re in.  I hold the sword in front of me with one hand, letting the point of the blade angle down towards the floor. 

Malcolm’s eyes grow wide at the sight of my weapon.

“How did you get Jophiel’s sword?” He demands.

“It was a gift,” I tell him.

“A gift from whom?”

“God.”

Malcolm’s eyes darken.  “You’re no ordinary Watcher agent.  Who the hell are you?”

“Would you believe a messenger from God?”

Malcolm snorts. “And just what sort of message do you have for me?”

“That you need to change your ways before it’s too late.”

Malcolm stares at me like he didn’t understand a word I just said, and then he starts to laugh like what I said is the funniest thing he’s heard in the last century.

On instinct, I reach out and touch Malcolm on the arm with my free hand which instantly makes him stop laughing.

The bracelet allows me to feel his pain.  The pain of losing his one and only child is ripping his heart to shreds.  The uncertainty of not knowing whether or not his son is alive or dead is slowly killing him like poison in his bloodstream.  I’m not even sure how he’s standing and talking considering the amount of grief he feels.  It shows me Malcolm has a strength I can admire, even if this version of him has been corrupted by working for Lucifer.

Yet, his soul isn’t completely lost.  There’s a small spark of hope that his father will forgive his sins one day.  But that hope is slowly dying.  He feels like his soul is almost to the point where it will be unredeemable.

Malcolm snatches his arm out of my hand.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t give up hope,” I beg him.  “And stop being Lucifer’s henchman.  It’s killing your soul.”

“You’re rather impertinent for a human,” Malcolm says, eyeing me like I’m a curiosity. 

“So I’ve been told.”