The Watcher, page 6
part #1 of Fleur de Lis Series
We spent hours training every day, learning to use a staff, a sword, and a spear. By the time Christian and I were thirteen years old, we had mastered the Tiger and learned all the other styles of animals in Kung Fu, like the Snake, Crane, Dragon, Leopard, and Monkey. My mind, body, and soul lived and breathed martial arts, and I loved it.
Throughout all my years of training, Uncle Shu made me promise to keep my ability a secret and to hold back in winning every sparring match. I could see every punch striking me, every kick, every movement of attacks, before they happened. He always feared what people would do to us if they found out about our abilities. I kept my promise and respected my uncle's wishes and so did Christian…until now.
I noticed an Oriental sliding door in the back of the dojo, hidden behind a panel wall. I placed the broadsword back and walked behind it. I gripped the handle that was shaped like a branch and slid the door open.
The lighting in the Asian room was dim, and it smelled like fresh linen. The wall panels were designed with gold leaf and cherry blossoms. Against the back wall was a tall waterfall, made of bamboo and dark stones. There was a wooden bed low to the ground with a samurai sword on it and a pair of cargo pants. The handle of the sword was made of gold, and its sheath had a red snake engraved on it. To the left was an art table and an Asian dresser.
I walked to the art table and turned on the lamp that was above it. There were detailed sketches of landscapes that were stunning. I carefully looked at the sketches and found a drawing of my eyes. It looked like my eyes. They were the same almond shape, and one eye was darker than the other, but it was done in black pencil. I kept turning the pages, and I found a drawing of my side profile.
I needed to know whose room this was. I opened the top drawer of the dresser and found silk boxers and a photograph of Zachary and a beautiful brunette wearing ski suits. They were posing on top of a snowy mountain and holding snowboards.
“Shit,” I murmured in shock—this was Zachary's room.
I needed to get out of here. With Zachary's heightened senses, he would be able to pick up my scent. A bamboo door was to the far-left side of the room. I twisted the knob open and saw bamboo steps leading to a metal door. I unlocked it with the thumb and retinal scanner. It led me outside to the rooftop. It was set up as a garden with beautiful statues, and floor lights that traveled along the back of the wooden floor.
I turned to my right and saw a tiny room made of black glass; it faced the Museum. I opened it with the thumb scanner and found a sniper rifle with a silencer pointed toward the park. It had a small slit on the dark glass, two inches wide that went across to maneuver the rifle.
“You really shouldn't be here,” Zachary said.
I jumped up in fear and gasped, banging the top of my head on the black glass. “Can you give me a warning the next time you decide to sneak up on me again,” I snapped, rubbing my head.
“I will try my best,” he said, smoothly and grinned.
Zachary's lingering grin was attractive, and his gaze was penetrating.
“Why do you have a sniper rifle here?” I asked.
“You never know when you are going to need one. That rifle can do major damage to a vampire. We need to take all precautions,” he said and closed the black glass door.
“Was I in your bedroom?” I asked.
“Yes, and in my underwear drawer—that makes us even.”
“No, it doesn't,” I said. “Why do you have sketches of me?”
“I like to draw. Sebastian gave me all of your information and a copy of your driver's license when I was assigned to be your Guardian,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. “I find your eyes fascinating.”
“Do you have any idea how creepy that sounds?” I asked, narrowing my eyebrows.
“It might—but there was no harm intended.”
I took a deep breath and let it go, turning to the side, frustrated. “This rooftop is gorgeous,” I said, admiring a statue nearby.
“Please, allow me to show you my favorite marble sculpture,” he said, gesturing with his hands for me to follow.
We walked to the other side of the rooftop. He showed me a marble statue of a warrior, fallen to the ground, trying to get up as he is injured. It was beautiful.
“Unbelievable, it's amazing and looks so real,” I said. “His struggling facial expression was captured.”
“It is done by a vampire name Gabriel Mabray. He lives here, but is in Iceland at the moment.”
“Brilliant,” I said and admired the large statue some more.
I looked past the statue and saw across the Hudson River, the image of The Big Green Monster. Home seemed to be so far away but still so close.
“I am sorry I didn't tell you about the camera. I put it there last night,” Zachary said, observing me looking far away toward Queens.
“Oh, it was you...I am happy someone is watching my home. Don't worry about it.”
“With my senses, I am the best human lie detector. I can hear your pulse change when you lie. You can't hide anything from me.”
“Well, that's good to know,” I said in shock. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I just don't trust anyone, especially vampires,” I said and glared at him.
John was right about Zachary. He could be rude at times. Maybe he was missing a filtering system.
“I apologize for my rudeness. I will not keep anything from you and will always tell you from now onward everything in advance,” he said and bowed.
His apology seemed sincere. “I'll take your word for it. It's getting cold—let's go inside, and I am getting hungry,” I said.
“Yes, my dear, let's have dinner. I hope you like cold monkey brains and cow blood soup with heart beating Saki,” he said jokingly.
“Mmm...Sounds yummy,” I said and laughed.
“This way,” he said, and led me to another door, touching my back lightly.
Chapter 4
Where the Devil Hides
The sound of the metal blinds opening woke me up from a deep sleep. A slight headache between my eyes and the back of my head reminded me of the four glasses of wine I had last night. I am not a drinker, but the Mouton Rothschild 1945 wine bottles served were worth $28,000 each. Fernan, Sebastian, Zachary, and John were the only ones who attended dinner with us. We stayed up late playing poker, video games, and listening to ancient stories. Fernan thought it was best to get our sleeping hours changed to the same as the vampires. It's Sunday, and I wish I could sleep in some more, but tonight my brother will try to watch Aaron.
There was a knock on the door. I walked sluggishly to answer it.
“How did you sleep?” Christian asked, walking into the room.
He was already dressed and wore a faded green tee-shirt with a beige blazer from Barneys, vintage jeans, and Mid Adidas sneakers with white, green and orange designs.
“I slept wickedly well,” I yawned loudly and rubbed my temples. “Do you have any Advil?”
He walked toward my bed. “No, I don't. I can't believe you have a hangover—you lush.” He jumped on my bed, landing flat on his back. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine,” he said, touching the soft sheets and comforter.
“I am going to take a shower,” I said and walked toward the bathroom.
Christian got up fast and followed me. “And your closet is bigger than mine,” he whimpered, observing the room with jealous eyes.
“But you have a piano and your kitchen is bigger,” I added, trying to ease his suffering.
“We don't need a kitchen. We have room service,” he chuckled. “You want to switch rooms?”
“No, I am content with mine,” I said.
He wrinkled his nose with disappointment. “Come on! Your ass gets to sit on a gold toilet,” he griped, entering the bathroom.
He picked up the gold toilet seat cover and dropped it a couple of times to see what sound gold makes when it bangs together.
“Alright, that's enough, get out of here!” I said and pushed him out of the bathroom into the closet area.
He was laughing and trying to stop me from pushing him. “Oh, by the way, John woke me up early, he wants us to meet them in Fernan's office. It's on the second floor, room B301, so chop-chop woman and get ready,” he commanded, snapping his fingers.
“Go!” I shouted.
“We are also meeting more of the Covenant tonight, and Sebastian will be there. You might want to show off more of your cleavage,” he teased, cupping his chest like he had breasts and puckering up big kissing lips.
“Aww...you have jokes today,” I whined, imitating a sad face. “Now, get out of here, so I can get dressed!” I shouted and closed the closet door on his face.
“I love you too,” he said loudly.
“What a pain in my ass,” I murmured, and turned on the rainfall shower that was set in the middle of the Jacuzzi.
Zachary was waiting for me in front of B301, standing tall and fearsome, wearing dark grey pants, and a black shirt with a leather vest that revealed the edges of shuriken stars peeking out of the pockets. A five-inch dagger was strapped to his right boot. He wore leather wrist guarders that wrapped around his hands to his thumbs. He pushed a thick strand of his flowing brown hair behind his left ear.
“Good evening,” he said and observed what I was wearing from my waist up. “Nice outfit.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I was wearing a blood red V-neck shirt with tight black jeans and high black leather boots. I dazzled my outfit with a white gold chain, and a diamond covered cross that ended at my cleavage. I wore my favorite large hoop earrings covered in diamonds and a wide silver bangle bracelet with rose vines engraved on it.
Zachary opened the office door. John was sitting to the left. His hair seemed to have grown three inches overnight. The handle of a sword was exposed from the back of his brown leather jacket. He stood up, thinly smiled and bowed like an English gentleman.
Fernan was showing a painting that hung behind his desk to Christian. He turned and gazed at me. His smile was welcoming. His grey tailcoat was vintage, and he wore matching pants and a button-down shirt with a blue ascot tie.
I slightly bowed. “Good evening,” I said.
“Skye, you are just in time. This is a painting of Aaron. It was made a few months before he killed the King,” Fernan said.
The painting was encased in a silver leaf frame with wide borders. Aaron had soft features on his inverted triangular face with a small nose. His black wavy hair reached his shoulders, and his crystal blue eyes were alluring and deep-set with handsome eyebrows. He was sitting in a luxurious drawing room holding an ancient sword with no expression on his face. He didn't look like a threat at all, but looks can be deceiving.
“So, this is the infamous Aaron,” I said, examining the painting.
Fernan laughed. “Yes, not intimidating at all—don't you think, Christian?”
“How tall is he?” Christian asked.
“About your height...5'10,” he said.
“He looks harmless, but don't let that fool you, he is a killer,” Zachary said.
“Zachary is right. It was Aaron who killed thirteen Elders and will not hesitate to kill any human,” Fernan said.
“He is hunting you?” I asked.
“Yes, because we are hunting him,” John said.
“From the ninety vampires that left to be with him only thirty-eight remain, not including the young new vampires he has created,” Fernan said.
On my right side was another painting, encased in a large gold frame with intricate designs on it. A handsome man was standing in the same drawing room. He had a square jaw, full lips, an elegant nose, and chocolate brown eyes that were almond shaped. His light brown hair was twisted up on the sides. Gold fleur de lis flowers were embroidered on his long black coat. A beautiful petite brunette was sitting on a throne chair, next to him. She was wearing a medieval white gown with a sweetheart neckline that was adorned with gold designs. Her doe eyes were velvety-black, her nose small, and her lips were rosy and pouty, making her look innocent. Dark red curtains were behind them, and white roses covered the room. They both wore matching wedding bands. Maybe it was a wedding painting.
“That is Durand and Margaret, a week after their wedding day,” Fernan said.
“She was—beautiful,” I said.
“Yes, she was and because of her adultery—many have died,” Fernan said with dismay.
“Alright, let's see where the Devil hides,” Christian said.
Fernan pulled out a gold ring shaped like an eagle from his pants pocket. “This was Aaron's, he left it behind and wore it for over a century,” he said, playing with the ring.
“How old is Aaron?” I asked.
“1,986 years old,” Zachary said.
“Wow, he's the oldest vampire...too bad he won't be for long,” Christian said.
“My brother's powers have complications when used for too long,” I said.
“What kind of complications?” Zachary asked.
“I can watch someone for at least a half hour straight, but it weakens me and the visions fade, then I need to wait a couple of hours to try again. To avoid that from happening I watch someone for a few minutes on and off,” Christian said.
“That's fine, he can wear the ring and see Aaron as often as he likes or whenever his mind and body recuperates,” Fernan said.
“I can do that—no problem, but tonight I will try to watch him as long as possible. I will also need drawing paper and pencils. Not only am I a genius, but a kickass artist as well,” Christian said conceitedly.
“He's extremely modest, one of his best qualities,” I said.
They all laughed, and Christian sneered.
“Get him some of Gabriel's sketch papers and pencils?” Fernan asked John.
“Right away,” John said and left the room.
“The flash drive you gave us showed Aaron had two bank accounts he used when he worked with Nicholas Cangin. The first one he used in Switzerland and the second is in Hong Kong. He might be hiding in one of those places, or some of his Covenant is. We have Guardians tracking them there as we speak,” Fernan said. He handed the eagle ring to Christian. “We could only find three objects of the remaining vampires from our old Covenant that joined him.”
“That's okay. Who are they?” Christian asked.
“Madeline Granger, Charlotte Vasser, and Bari Asad. Bari was a Guardian, Madeline was Aaron's servant, and Charlotte was turned by Durand three hundred years ago,” Fernan said. His desk had a small mirror, a beautiful silver hairbrush and a dagger placed on it. “A fire destroyed most of King Durand's Castle...six months after his death.”
Christian sat down at Fernan's desk. “Let's do Aaron first,” he said.
John walked in and placed the drawing papers and pencils in front of Christian. “Here you go.”
“Let's begin,” Christian said.
He placed the eagle ring on his right index finger, and it fit him perfectly.
“He is alone in a coffee shop staring at a teenage girl working behind the counter...she is closing the cafe,” Christian said. He remained quiet as he drew her for five minutes.
“He is walking toward her and gives her his empty cup.” Christian stopped a few seconds to focus. “I can't hear them, but I can read her lips,” he said, looking at Fernan.
“What is she saying?” Fernan asked.
“She said, 'That sounds great. I am free tonight,' and she is flirting with him.” Christian kept drawing.
“He is helping her close the cafe. He pulls down the front gate, and she locks it. The name of the place is—Camille's Cafe. She is surprised by the limo waiting for them. It's Florida or an Island...there are palm trees and a beach across from the café,” he said.
“Can you draw it?” Fernan asked.
Christian quickly started a new drawing of the sign above the cafe. “Of course, I can,” he replied, and he also drew the beach. “They are in the limo.”
“Can you see the streets they are driving past?” Zachary asked.
“No, I can't—the windows are all black, and he keeps on focusing on her legs and neck. She is wearing a short skirt and a tank top,” Christian said, trying to focus.
“Is she speaking to him?” Fernan asked.
“She said, 'I can't get home late. I have school tomorrow morning.' His right-hand touches her arm, caresses her leg...he is kissing her. She seems nervous, but excited. The limo stopped—the door is opened by a tall, dark man with a short Mohawk. He is speaking to him in a language I can't understand,” Christian said and drew the man with the Mohawk.
“That's Bari,” Zachary said, staring at the drawing.
“They are walking toward a white yacht—a beautiful—huge yacht covered in black windows. It has four floors. The back of it has a helicopter, a speed boat,` and jet skis. The name Margaret is painted on the side,” Christian said.
“Draw the yacht,” Fernan said. Christian grabbed a new sketch paper and began to draw it.
“He is looking around the dock to see if he notices anyone watching him. He gently grabs her hand—brings her inside. She is admiring and complimenting his yacht. They are on the main deck, in a saloon. It's an open room with a huge cockpit and a dining room. The floors are transparent, and you can see the different lower decks. He is opening a bottle of red wine; he hands her a glass and pours it.” Christian paused for a brief time as he kept drawing.
Fernan moved closer to look at the drawings.
“They are kissing again...it's getting a little pornographic,” he said, widening his eyes. He waited a few minutes and continued. “He gestures with his hand to follow him. They go down the circular stairway, into the lower deck. The place looks like a spaceship. It's modern and has a lot of wood. He opens the door to a bedroom...it's covered in plastic!” Christian dropped the pencil and tightly grabbed the edges of the desk with both hands.
