Oblivion (The Watcher Chronicles #3) (7 page)

Brand grows quiet and stares down at his coffee.  I get the feeling he wants to ask us something but doesn’t know how or possibly if he should.  Finally, he sighs and looks back up at us.

“Could you tell me about this Lilly from your world? What kind of life do we have together?  Is my immortality an issue?”

“You’re not immortal in our world,” Mason tells Brand.  “You’re human.”

“How?” Brand asks, completely caught off guard by such a revelation.  It’s something I didn’t know either, but it explains why he looks older.

“When Lilly stopped Lucifer, Brand asked God to make him human so he could live out a normal life with Lilly.  God granted his wish.  Lilly and Brand have three children now:  Caylin, Will and Mae.”

“Three kids?  Are they human?”

“Not completely.  Caylin was conceived while you were still an angel and of course Lilly is still half archangel.”

“Is Caylin cursed?  Does she become a werewolf?”

“No, God took away the curse from all the Watcher children who never drank human blood.”

“So Abby is human in your world?”

“Yes.  She’s actually married to Malcolm’s son and they have two children.”

Brand laces the fingers of his hands in front of his face and rubs his temples with the pads of his thumbs.  I wonder what he’s thinking.  I want to ask who Abby is but I feel sure from Brand’s reaction it’s probably his daughter, still cursed in this reality to transform into a werewolf every night.

“You and Malcolm are friends, of sorts, in our reality too,” Mason reveals to Brand.

Brand lowers his hands and looks at Mason like he’s sure he misunderstood him.

“Malcolm and me friends?” Brand asks.

“At first it was only for Lilly’s sake,” Mason says, “she and Malcolm have been friends pretty much since the day they met.  But since the Tear appeared, the two of you have become close because of your families.  Our Brand trusts Malcolm to help keep his family safe.  I don’t think I could give Malcolm any higher praise than that.”

“I suppose Baruch and Isaiah told you my thoughts about bringing Malcolm into the resistance?” I ask.

Brand nods.  “I’m sorry but I just don’t see that as a possibility.”

“At least think about it,” I urge.  “He has good in him.  It’s just buried under a lot of bad baggage.”

“I
am
surprised he let you go,” Brand admits.  “His only redeemable quality was his refusal to let Sebastian drink human blood.  Mason told me you had to kill him when he traveled to your world.”

“Yes.  I killed him with my sword.”

“At least it was a quick death then.”

Brand stands.  “I’m sure the two of you are tired.  We made up a room for you to stay in while you’re here.  Was I right in assuming you would want to share the same room?”

Mason looks to me to answer the question.

“Yes, one room is all we need,” I answer, reaching for one of Mason’s hands, laying claim to my man.

We follow Brand out of the room into the hallway.  We end up not having to walk too far.  Brand opens a metal door which is only a couple of doors down from his quarters.

The room is sparse with one full size bed covered in white cotton sheets and a thin black wool blanket. A small metal table with a small lamp sits on the right side of the bed. There is a narrow bathroom off to the left with a metal chair sitting by the entrance. 

“We don’t have a lot of visitors,” Brand says in way of explanation for the lack of décor.

“It’s fine,” I tell him.  “There’s a bed.  That’s all we need.”

Mason raises an eyebrow in my direction and tries to hide a smile.

“Well, I hope it’s comfortable enough,” Brand says, seeming to become uncomfortable around us all of a sudden.  “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

I let go of Mason’s hand and walk into the room trying to unbuckle the belt of the baldric from around my waist as quickly as I can.  I hear Mason close the door behind me.  For some reason my fingers feel like they’ve gone numb and my stomach suddenly feels like it’s a jar full of butterflies.

“Here,” Mason says, coming to stand in front of me, “let me help you with that.  You’ve had a rough night.  You need to get some rest.”

I look up at Mason who is concentrating on working the leather strap through the buckle.

“I don’t need rest,” I say, hoping he gets the subtle hint in my words without me having to spell it out for him.

A slow smile stretches his lips.  “Should I be worried about my chastity tonight, Agent Riley?”

“Most definitely, Mr. Collier.”

His smile grows wider but falters slightly and he lets out a small sigh.  I immediately know something is up.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He shakes his head, “Nothing.”

Mason walks around me and lifts the straps of the baldric from my shoulders.  I turn around and watch him prop the sword against the metal chair by the bathroom entrance.

When he comes back to me, he wraps his arms loosely around my waist and I loop mine around his neck.  He leans his head down towards mine and kisses my lips softly.  Not satisfied, I pull his head down even further to deepen the kiss, tugging at the bottom of his shirt until it’s released from his pants and running my hands up the bare skin of his back.  Mason moans and lifts me easily in his arms to carry me to the bed.

Without breaking the contact of our lips, he gently lays me on the mattress following me down and laying partially on top of me.  I feel his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of my blouse and realize he
does
have dexterous fingers.  He tugs my blouse from my pants and I lay there with my shirt open for his further exploration.  He rests one of his large warm hands on my stomach. 

Mason’s lips leave mine to travel down the side of my neck planting small, wet maddening kisses along the way.  He shifts slightly, peeling the left side of my shirt away from my chest to kiss the soft flesh over my racing heart.  Tenderly, he kisses the tops of each breast peeking up from my bra and makes a trail of butterfly kisses between them down to the sensitive skin surrounding my belly button.

In an effortless move, he straddles me and leans on his knees and elbows above me.  I can feel his arousal and yearn to strip off the rest of my clothes to finally be able to feel him fully against me without anything in the way.

Mason runs a finger against the side of my face as he gazes lovingly down at me, but I can still see something in his eyes that tells me all is not right.  Plus, he’s not kissing me, which will not do.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.  “Why are you stopping?”

“You’re going to think it’s silly,” he says reluctantly, letting his finger trail down to my chest and tracing an outline of a heart where my real heart is beating ninety to nothing.

“Tell me,” I urge, because I know if he doesn’t say what’s on his mind we’ll never be able to get back to what we were doing.

Am I being selfish?  Yes.  But in the long term I think we’ll both gain satisfaction from my selfishness.

Mason’s eyes look around the room.  “I just didn’t imagine us making love for the first time in a place like this.  I wanted to make it special for you.”

I put my hands on either side of his face and make him look straight at me so he doesn’t miss a single word I say to him.

“You’re here.  That’s all I need.  I don’t need silk sheets.  I don’t need flowers.  I don’t need candles.  All I
need
right now is
you
.”

Mason grins.  “But I want to give you the silk sheets, the flowers, and the candles.  I
need
to give you those things, Jess.  I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” he says shaking his head.  “I want to wait until we go back home.  Please let me make our first time together beautiful for you and not,” he looks around the room again, “this.”

With my hands still on his face, I make him look back down at me.

“You…are…killing…me,” I say to him, reminding him of the words he has said to me on more than one occasion.

He smiles and I instantly feel overwhelmingly loved.  I know he wants to make love as much as I do.  It’s blatantly obvious by the predominant bulge pressing against me, but he loves me enough to stop so our first time together can be a magical moment, something we’ll both look back on one day and smile about.  I can’t say I don’t understand why he wouldn’t want to make love in the room we’re in.  It does bring to mind a place where an inmate would have a conjugal visit.

“Can we at least keep kissing?” I beg, not willing to give up all contact just yet.

“For a while,” Mason says, “until I need to go take a cold shower or do you think you could work up some tears for me?”

I laugh and grab a fist full of the shirt he still has on bringing his lips down to mine.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say against his mouth.

Eventually, Mason does have to go take a shower.  I watch him as he stands with his back to me and completely undresses in the room, except for his underwear which is a bit of a disappointment.

“What?”  I ask as I lay on the bed watching him.  “I don’t get to see all of you?”

Mason smiles.  “I have to keep some element of surprise for our first time.”

I sigh, completely disappointed my voyeuristic side isn’t going to be satisfied.

“Would you like some company in the shower?” I offer, hoping for a yes but not counting on it.

Mason’s smile grows wider as he looks over his shoulder at me which makes my heart skip a beat.

“I believe that would completely contradict the purpose of the shower.”

I sigh again which makes Mason chuckle.  He turns slightly and I see the outline of the bulge peeking out from the front of his underwear.

I begin to chew on the inside of my bottom lip as I study what Mason seems to have to offer.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, seeing my distress.

“Are men usually that…well endowed?” I ask, not completely sure how my body is supposed to accommodate so much of him.

Mason blushes and grabs his shirt from the chair to hide himself from my eyes.

“Are you sure it will fit?” I ask him, not having to elaborate on where exactly it’s supposed to fit.

Mason smiles and rolls his eyes at me all the while growing redder by the moment.

“Yes, you’re body will adjust to me.”

“Ok,” I say, not completely convinced.  I cock my head and blatantly stare at him because the shirt is doing nothing but making him look even larger as it makes a tent shape against his member.  “I don’t see how but I guess I’ll have to trust your judgment on that.”

“I’m going to take a shower now,” he says seeming desperate to get away from my open leering.  He tosses his shirt back on the chair before stepping into the bathroom.

Mason has to turn in the small confines to close the door behind him and I feel my eyes grow larger from the full side and frontal views of him before he closes the door.

I shake my head and lay it back on my pillow, completely paranoid now that my body won’t be able to handle all of Mason.

I do my best to stay awake, wanting to snuggle with Mason when he gets out of the shower but my body has other plans.  As soon as I close my eyes, the stress from the day’s events crash into me like an ocean wave reminding me just how tired I am.  My mind feels like a piece of driftwood floating out to sea as it searches for the land of nod.

At some point, I wake up and find myself wrapped in Mason’s arms facing his naked chest.  Although I’m too tired to do much else, I plant a small kiss in the middle of his chest and snuggle in closer to his warmth, drifting back to sleep.

Sometime later, there is a soft knock at the door.  Mason gets out of bed and pulls his shirt on as he walks to the door and opens it.

“Oh, hi.  I didn’t know you guys were still sleeping,” I hear Leah say to Mason.  “I can come back later.”

“Wait, Leah,” I say, sitting up and buttoning my shirt.  “Come on in.”

I reach over and turn the lamp beside the bed on for some extra light.

“I’m going to go see if Brand is up,” Mason tells me, grabbing his socks and shoes from the metal chair.

He walks over and gives me a kiss.

“Good morning by the way,” he tells me with a smile.

“Good morning,” I reply, smiling back because I realize I want to begin every morning of my life with a kiss from Mason.

“Brand’s up,” Leah informs us.  “I just came from his quarters.  He’s making breakfast.”

“I’ll see the two of you when you get finished then,” Mason says, leaning into me for one more kiss before he leaves.

When he walks out the door, Leah walks towards me.  I pat a spot on the bed beside me silently telling her to take a seat.

“Can I get one of those when I go to your Earth?” Leah says pointing to the open door Mason just walked out of.

I giggle.

“Sorry, there’s only one Mason and I don’t share.”

I touch one of Leah’s hands and instantly feel her relax.

“Why does it feel so good when I’m near you?” She asks me.

I shrug.  “Our archangels seem to be happy when they’re near each other.  At least that’s the explanation we’ve been going with.”

“Will I feel this way when I’m with the other two you’ve found?”

“Yes.  Though I should warn you we have a devastatingly handsome rock star in our midst.”

“What’s his name?”

“Chandler Cain.  And JoJo Armand is a French fashion designer.  You’re going to love them.”

“Do you think they will like me?”

“Leah, they will love you, just like I do.  It’s pretty much hardwired into our systems.” 

Leah’s uncertainty about how Chandler and JoJo will react to her prompts me to ask her a question.

“Have you had many people in your life?  Except for Remy, of course.”

Leah shakes her head.  “No.  Remy has pretty much been all I’ve had.  My mother abandoned me when I was a baby.  Remy’s my family.”

I put an arm around Leah’s shoulders and bring her closer to me.  She lays her head on my shoulder and I feel a kinship with her beyond just our archangel bond.  Unlike Leah, I at least had a mother who gave me seven years to be with her.  Even though she ultimately abandoned me, I suddenly feel lucky to have been given that much time.  I can’t imagine what Leah has gone through knowing her mother didn’t want her.  The heartache of such knowledge would weaken most, but Leah seems like a strong willed young lady who hasn’t let hardship corrupt her soul.