The Watchers (25 page)

Chapter 12

I learned a lot from my evening at Daniel’s
house. For instance, I learned that after the change Watchers don’t
have to eat. It was aggravating to have a raging appetite from
carrying a person through the woods only to discover that little
factoid. Beatrice came into the kitchen as Daniel searched for
something to feed a hungry sixteen-year-old girl. “What are looking
for?” she asked Daniel.

“Clare is hungry,” Daniel explained. “She’s
trying to act like she isn’t, but her stomach is speaking louder
than her mouth.”

“How come you don’t have food?” I asked. “Do
you eat out a lot or…” Their faces answered my question.
“Oh...”

“We don’t need to eat. Our bodies absorb
energy differently…and metabolize differently. It’s really quite
fascinating. See, what happens…” Daniel coughed and shook his head
at her. I sensed it was more to keep her from launching into a
complicated explanation then to keep something from me. She nodded
and changed the subject. “We do go to the store for the sake of
appearances, but I can’t stand the waste, so we give it to the less
fortunate. People don’t connect our shopping trips to out
donations. I’m afraid, though, that we don’t keep much food in the
house.”

Daniel held up a can. “We have beets.”

“Pass,” I said.

“I forgot about those,” Beatrice said. She
wrinkled her nose, and I noticed how young she looked. She was
either extremely lucky to age so little, or something else was
going on.

Encouraged by her kind tone and my curiosity,
I asked the question before I thought about the possible answers,
“I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you pass as anyone’s parent?
You look so young…”

Daniel put the can back into the cabinet and
stood, giving up on his search for edible food. “They wear makeup
when they’re out in public and wigs that make them look older.
Although, that’s sort of a double edged sword,” he said as he sent
a teasing look in Beatrice’s direction.

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“They overact being old. Despite Beatrice’s
stint posing as a man in Shakespeare’s acting company – she got all
the best female gigs – she hasn’t learned the art of downplaying a
role. Personally, I think it made her worse.”

“Shakespeare?” I gasped.

Beatrice waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh,
don’t be so impressed! He had the most appalling hygiene habits
and, honestly, was a bit strange. Artists…”

Though her comment was bizarre to hear,
especially in her matter-of-fact tone, I latched on to the more
bizarre issue. “Watchers don’t age…we don’t age.” I turned to
Daniel. “You don’t age.”

Beatrice gave us an understanding look, and
started to walk away. “I’m going to go call for pizza. Is pizza
good?”

“Just cheese please,” I said as I stared at
Daniel.

“Already done,” she said.

“Well?” I demanded, my hands on my hips

“We age, and we certainly die, it just takes
us longer,” he answered.

“How much longer?” I asked. “How old are
you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What if you think it’s
weird?”

“You’re worried that of all the weird things
I’m learning about you, I’ll hate you for your age?” I asked.

“Yes.” He stepped away and turned his back to
me.

“Trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he assured me quickly,
turning around. I thought he wasn’t going to tell me, but then he
continued very quietly, “A hundred of our years are roughly a year
normal time. Last November, I met the hundred year mark. So, I
guess that makes me about eighteen biologically.”

My heart thudded uncomfortably. How could he
want me? How could he want a stupid, sixteen-year-old, kid? I was a
molecule compared to his universe.

“Is it as horrible as the expression on your
face suggests?” he asked.

I shook my head and rushed to correct his
misunderstanding. “How on earth can you find me interesting? I’ve
not really begun to live yet. I haven’t even made it out of high
school. You’ve seen so much, lived so much…how can I compete with
that?”

He let out an explosive breath. “Somehow,
your thoughts always manage to surprise me. The thoughts I hear
from others never compare to things you say.”

“You can hear thoughts?” I asked,
excited.

“All Watchers can hear human thoughts. It’s
part of who we are. We can only hear each other’s through touch,
and then, only if we let the other person in.”

“I sort of figured the last part out,” I said
then added, “So, I’m not alone? You can hear what people think as
well!” Someone else understood!

“I knew it! I knew you could hear thoughts!”
Daniel’s pleasure at being right changed to a frown, and he
muttered, “Which doesn’t make any sense.” He shook his head. “To
get back to your question, my age and my experiences have nothing
to do with what we have. I mean they’re important, yes…” he trailed
off. “Look, I am who I am. It doesn’t matter how old I am. Besides,
I really don’t feel that old.”

“As long as you don’t think I’m boring or
anything…”

“That would be impossible.”

I knew nothing was impossible, but I also
knew he was right. I liked his personality, not his age, and as
long as the former didn’t change, I couldn’t see why I should have
a problem with it. Besides, if we lived as long as he suggested, I
would accumulate my own years and experiences.

“Why is it strange that I can hear thoughts?”
I asked over my thoughts.

“We can’t hear thoughts until after the
change. The change is a defense mechanism, so we stay hidden. It
also keeps us from being able to start fires or snowstorms at the
age of two, simply because we want a chocolate bar or something.”
He shuddered slightly at the thought. “Seventeen is when the time
code embedded on our genes kicks over, and the angelic genes become
dominant. The fact that your powers are developing before the
change is very puzzling.”

“Oh.” I lifted one shoulder slightly in a
question. “I feel like I’m getting so many answers but
understanding so little.”

“We should stop talking about it, for now at
least. Baby steps.”

“Are you calling me a baby?”

He smirked. “You act like one.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Name a time.”

“Not wanting to accept my jacket, because the
act is too chivalrous for your tastes. Arguing with me even when
you know you are wrong. Or how about going into the woods when I
explicitly warned you not to?”

“And you don’t act like a brat!” I retorted.
I could see by his expression he was enjoying this. “Sneaking up to
my room when I’m getting dressed! Bossing me around every chance
you get! Or acting all superior when you win at something – like it
would be possible for you to lose!”

“Yeah, well, you’re stubborn,” he responded,
his eyes crinkling with laughter.

“Am not!” I retorted stubbornly.

“Are so!”

“Am not!” I insisted.

“You seem sort of stubborn to me,” a
different voice replied.

I looked beyond Daniel at the new voice.
Jackson walked into the kitchen, as confident as I was stubborn.
His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his square face
was changed by his smile. Daniel and I were forced to step apart to
let Jackson’s large form into the kitchen. I had been right. Seeing
him up close was extremely intimidating.

“Overruled,” Daniel said.

“He’s just agreeing with you ‘cause he’s your
friend,” I said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Jackson said.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Daniel confirmed.

“Margaret called and said she noticed another
Seeker hanging by little miss stubborn’s house,” Jackson said. He
reached out across the space and playfully ruffled my short hair.
His familiarity was surprising, but I liked it. I realized in that
instant that Jackson was a gentle giant. He, above the others, even
Daniel, was the most natural around me.

Daniel closed his eyes, concentrating hard.
“She won’t encounter the Seeker.” His eyes snapped open. “I need to
go to the hospital.”

“What? Why?” I demanded.

“I saw Susan. They’ll try to kill her
tonight, unless they see it’s not worth the effort. Though, for
some reason, the person that will make the attempt is
obscured.”

“Why was Margaret near my house?” I asked,
accepting the truth of his words.

“We all take turns standing guard, ever since
Daniel began to suspect what you are. The Seekers know where you
live…and we are all dedicated to protecting the innocents who can’t
change their role in this war.” Jackson answered with a shrug.

Daniel scowled at Jackson, annoyed. I stared
at Daniel. Daniel found my eyes and stared back, his face resolute.
“What? I’m not going to apologize for protecting you, or for
wanting to stop people who are cold blooded murderers.”

I crossed my arms. I was touched by the
gesture but annoyed at the same time. I had explicitly told him I
didn’t need to be protected like that. How long had he suspected
what I was, anyways?

“You don’t happen to have any other
superpowers I don’t know about. Like super hearing?”

He clamped his lips together and didn’t
answer.

“We do, in fact, possess better than normal
hearing,” Jackson replied helpfully.

Daniel held his hands out, his face upset.
“What happened to brothers sticking up for each other?”

“This is funnier,” Jackson replied. He turned
back to me. “We’re also very strong, and we heal when hurt. Oh, and
we can breathe for a long time underwater before we need oxygen…but
I think you figured that out.” I felt a blush threatening. “Did I
leave anything out?” he asked Daniel.

“Just go. I don’t need your kind of help,”
Daniel grumbled.

Jackson smiled playfully then left the
kitchen, aware of the havoc he left in his wake.

“How much have you overheard and how angry
should I be?”

“I really need to get to the hospital,”
Daniel said ignoring my question. “Do you want to wait on your
food, and let Beatrice take you home, or do you want me to drive
you?”

I scowled at him, not wanting to do any of
his suggestions. Beatrice and Han walked through the doorway saving
him from the verbal lashing I had been preparing. They were both
wearing lab coats and had markings around their eyes as if they had
been wearing goggles.

“The pizza man might take a while, and he’ll
most definitely get lost. People always seem to have trouble
finding us,” Beatrice said.

“You can take me home,” I told Daniel.
“Thanks for ordering the food, Mrs. Adams.”

“You’re very welcome and please, call me
Beatrice.”

“Come back and see us,” Han said giving me a
brief sideways hug.

“I will,” I promised.

Daniel threw his arm around my shoulders and
steered me towards the door, giving his parents a serious look.
Beatrice nodded once like she understood what he was telling her.
For people who couldn’t read each other’s thoughts without
touching, they did a lot of facial communication. Daniel paused
next to the front door. “You don’t have a jacket. I forgot. I left
it around the Ranger.”

“I’m fine.” I mimicked his superior tone,
“I’m tough. I can handle it.”

He snorted and opened a small door to the
right. As he opened it, I felt my jaw drop. The jacket closet
looked less like it was a closet and more like it was a shopping
center specifically for jackets.

“Spill on aisle five,” I joked. “Did you get
a discount for buying in bulk?”

“Pick one. It doesn’t matter which.”

I saw his letterman jacket hanging near the
front. I moved towards it then hesitated. Since when was I all for
the school colors? Besides, it was his jacket. He had earned it. I
didn’t want to take it from him. Noticing my hesitation, Daniel
took it off the hanger and held it for me to put on.

“I don’t want to take your jacket,” I
protested.

He shook it commandingly.

I sighed, knowing I would lose this
particular battle, and let him help me into it. I smiled happily as
the soft fabric kissed my skin, and Daniel started laughing.
“Dork,” he accused me.

“Proudly,” I said.

He picked out a leather jacket and casually
threw it on. It left an immediate impression. With the leather
jacket over the dark band shirt and the casual blue jeans he was
wearing, he looked like a rock star. I stared at him, wondering how
I hadn’t seen this side of him earlier. He looked sort of
rebellious. And, suddenly, totally, my type.

“You’re ogling me,” he whispered, draping his
arm over my shoulders again.

“I really am.” I waved my hands vaguely. “I
stopped judging you as a jock, but I never saw how rebellious you
really look.”

“That’s because I didn’t want you to see it.
It’s the front I put up at school, so people don’t look closer.
But…I want you to see the real me.”

He opened the front door for me with a smile.
As he paused to shut the door again, I took in the scenery. The
front of his house was closed in by the forest, except for a gravel
drive and large stone front steps. Bushes, that looked as if they
were eager for spring, made the woods feel more manicured than an
average forest.

Daniel led me down the sweeping stone steps
toward his black Audi. “You’re into indie rocker guys, who have a
hint of mystery and rebellion up their sleeves then?” he asked
sardonically, teasing me.

I raised an eyebrow mockingly. “You’re just
missing the tattoo on your forearm and the sap story about how you
bought your first guitar.”

“If I did have a tattoo on my forearm, what
would it say?” he asked, a funny expression crossing his face.

“Something mysterious, of course, like a song
lyric, or a Chinese symbol, that means peace or balance or
something profound.”

He opened the car door for me, his green eyes
full of laughter. As I got in, I looked past him and saw that his
house was made entirely of stone and dark slate. It had dead ivy
branches crawling across that would look like moss on the stone in
the spring and summer. Even in the dark light of evening, it was
extraordinarily beautiful and seemed to fit the Adams’ simple, but
grandiose, way of living. Staring up at it, I felt as if I had just
stepped out of a fairy tale with Prince Charming and was preparing
to drive out into a reality that was far less beautiful.