Releasing the Watcher: The Fallen Angel Trilogy #3 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  RELEASING THE WATCHER

  Copyright©2017

  KIM LORAINE

  Cover Design by Ramona Lockwood

  Editor Linda Ingmanson

  Formatted by Champagne Book Design

  Proofread by Megan Luker

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by KIM LORAINE

  ISBN: 978-1975957575

  www.kimlorainewriter.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  For my Loraine Lovers,

  Thank you for going on this ride with me!

  Present day, Seattle

  “Watch it, asshole.” The cab driver lays on the horn, swerving to avoid me as I blindly step into the busy traffic of downtown Seattle. I’m still not accustomed to the weakened reflexes of my mostly human body. Centuries upon centuries of living within the body of one vampire or another has left me unsure of this form’s capabilities and limitations. I’m reminded of where my limits lie every day.

  Shaking my head to clear my mind, I return to the sidewalk, but my eyes never leave the woman across the street. Selah, the reincarnation of my soul mate, the reason I fell from Heaven and lost my wings, the woman I’ve been cursed to live without for millennia. She’s sitting on a stool in front of the large bank of windows of a Starbucks in Pike Place, just like she does nearly every morning. Dark hair cascades over one shoulder as she nurses her drink, and, damn it to hell and back, she’s still as painfully beautiful as I remember. My cock hardens as her fingers slide absently across her collarbone. Would that I could taste her skin.

  And then the light catches on the fucking engagement ring on her hand. Possessive rage courses through me. I’m going to have to do something about that.

  She’s mine.

  She doesn’t know it yet, but she will.

  “Let her be, brother.” The archangel Gabriel’s voice catches me off guard. I flinch at his words but work to control my reaction. I don’t want him to see how weakened I am. The last body I’d shared a consciousness with had been one of the strongest vampires I’ve known. I never had to worry about my angelic brothers being able to sneak up on me. I’d feel their presence before they spoke, didn’t need food or even exercise to maintain my strength. All I’d needed was blood and sex to feed. But I’ll take the warmth of the sun on my skin and the pleasures of life over speed and bloodlust any day. Now that I’ve been restored to my original self, I can have all that…but most of all, I can have Selah.

  My heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze as she fiddles with the bauble on her finger.

  “She’s meant for me.”

  The archangel rests a hand on my shoulder, sending a pulsing sting along the raised golden ink under my skin. My big brother Michael restored some of my angelic power in the form of grace etched into my back. A slight hiss escapes me as the burn flows through the expanse of the pattern, reminding me of what I stand to regain. My wings and my place in Heaven. And the one thing I’ll lose if I choose to go home—my Selah.

  “Sariel, you’ve found her. That doesn’t mean she’ll be yours. She may not want you.”

  “She will.” The thought of her not choosing me sends a primal flash of rage through my blood.

  “Your focus needs to be on stopping the other Watchers, ending this conflict before it begins, not bedding the woman who caused your fall. She’s only a human, after all.”

  That pulls my attention from her. I’m sure my anger is visible as I turn my gaze to him. And all he can do is smirk. The fucker. He’s lucky he can’t die. Brother or not, I’d push his winged ass right into traffic. “She’s not any woman. You know that.”

  Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Gabriel begins walking away, his posture the stiff, uncomfortable stance of a being unwilling to learn how to blend in with the natives. I follow. I know this conversation isn’t over and I’d rather feel in control of my choices. When I cast a fleeting glance back at Selah, my heart sinks when all I find is an empty window. Damn.

  “You can’t spend all your time watching her. That’s not what we restored you for, and certainly not why we provided you with more than enough funds to live comfortably.”

  My hackles rise. I hate being beholden to them. “G
o ahead and take back the money. I’ll get a job.”

  Gabriel laughs in my face. “Doing what? I suppose you could become a professional stalker.”

  “Fuck off, Gabriel.”

  He continues to laugh, heedless of the humans around him. Finally, after wiping a tear from his eye, his expression goes back to his usual stony one.

  “Has the vampire come to terms with his soul being returned?” he asks.

  “Devin. His name is still Devin. And, no. I haven’t told him yet.”

  Turning on me, Gabriel frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “I haven’t seen him since Michael branded me with this grace. I see no reason to bring Devin and Willow further into this until they’re needed. Azazel is gone. The Watchers have no leader. We can leave them out of it for now.”

  A dark chuckle falls from Gabriel. “Have you gone soft? The Sariel I know has always been focused on one thing: himself. But the more involved with these vampires and their women you’ve become, the less ruthless you seem.”

  He’s right. Watching as Galen and Devin both found their soul mates has changed me. Maybe I have softened. I could have let them each die, left their souls in purgatory until they were judged, but I didn’t.

  “They earned their souls. You know that as well as I do.”

  Nodding, he stops in front of the lot where I’ve parked my car for my daily stalking session. It’s laughable, really, to think I’m a fallen fucking angel, reduced to nothing better than a lovesick puppy begging for attention.

  “The Watchers aren’t without a leader, Sariel.”

  Gabriel’s words send a chill through me. “Who has taken control?”

  “We’re not sure, but we suspect it is Lucifer.”

  “How the hell are you not sure?”

  “You know he’s amassed a wealth of power since he was cast out. As the world becomes ever more faithless, so grows his strength. He’s been able to cloak himself from us, change his form, manipulate those around him, but his skills have improved vastly in the last hundred years. If he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t.”

  Running my hand through my hair, I grip the back of my neck. This isn’t good. I know Gabriel wants to give our remaining fallen brothers a chance to repent, but if Lucifer has them, there’s no going back.

  “Sariel, you and I have a lot of work to do. You’ll be better off if you keep your attention on the battle to come rather than on a woman you don’t have.”

  I force myself to bite my tongue. He’s picking at me on purpose, knowing I’ll lose my temper and use my power. But I can’t. Every time I give in, I know it takes me farther from Selah and closer to becoming the weapon the archangels want me to be.

  Thousands of years ago, Mesopotamia

  “Brother, what brings you here again?” Gabriel’s question holds a hint of accusation, and I know exactly why. He’s worried.

  I am not certain I should tell him, but in truth, I know he has been watching me closely. He already knows.

  Then the woman I cannot force from my mind appears, her long, dark hair coiled high on her head, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day. If I were a human man…

  Gabriel sighs and shakes his head. “Do not approach her, Sariel. You know we must remain cloaked unless we are doing Father’s work.”

  This warning does little to assuage my need. She draws me to this place. I feel it in my chest. This ache can only be eased by her presence.

  “I want her to see me. Every time she looks through me, it hurts. Why do I feel this way? I have never looked twice at a human, but this woman—”

  “We are archangels, Sariel. This is forbidden, and you know it. Please do not make me mind you as though you are a child.”

  The beauty stares straight at me, as though she can see me. A rush of an unusual feeling courses through my body, making me hot and cold without warning. She tilts her head slightly and narrows eyes so gray, they could be carved from flint. When she begins to close the distance between us, my heart gives an alarming lurch. It is impossible for her to see me, but the way her gaze is trained on my face makes me wonder.

  The pressure of Gabriel’s hand on my shoulder pulls my attention from her. He shakes his head, and with a flash of light, we are both transported from the small village we’d been visiting. Now, we stand in a barren desert, nothing but sand to hear our words.

  “Michael asked me to reassign you, but I had to see this behavior for myself first.”

  “Reassign?” If he does this, I’ll be kept from her. I have to see her in order to feel whole. “No, Gabriel, do not do this. You don’t understand.”

  He sighs. “Your attachment to this human is troubling and unnatural. I did not want to tear you from your station, but after I witnessed your reaction to her, I agree that this is the best course of action.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I grit my teeth against a wave of anger. How easily he forgets my strength. Sliding away from him, I pull my focus inward until my presence is temporarily hidden from his awareness.

  In moments, I stand in front of three women who hold my fate in their hands. I will them to see me as I kneel before them. Collective gasps escape them as I come into view. My luminous wings spread wide, casting a shadow over the women. The three link hands and stand strong even in the face of an archangel, gazes trained on my form.

  “Witches,” I command. “I call upon your service.”

  The tallest of the three steps forward and nods. “Angel. How may we serve?”

  “I require a spell to cloak my presence from all my brothers who seek me.”

  She cocks an eyebrow and smiles. “The price will be steep.”

  “A gift, then? Knowledge? Power?” I can only hope my desperation isn’t obvious to them.

  “What power can you give?”

  With a flare of my grace, I manifest a ball of light and pass it into her hands. “Foresight.” I’m walking down a dangerous path, but I need something to shield me from the vision of my brothers…and my Father.

  Her eyes dance with excitement as she glances at her companions. “Shall we oblige, sisters?”

  The other two nod, and with one short chant, I know Gabriel and Michael cannot find me when I enact this spell, at least until all its power is gone.

  Thanking them, I return to the market in my favorite village, but my beauty is no longer there. Disappointment settles atop my shoulders, but I know I will find her again. She cannot be far, and I will not be kept from her.

  I should not have done this. I’ve never hidden myself from my brothers. But with every passing day, I know I have to be with her. I can feel her presence as she nears the riverbank. The temptation of her soul pulls me closer, almost without thought. My blood sings the moment she steps around the large tree she so frequently passes the afternoons under. I want to lift the veil between our worlds so I can step into hers and touch the skin I’m certain will be soft and smooth. But I can’t. Temptation is the road that leads to destruction. I have to hold on to my will, my duty, and remember the reason my Father made me. I watch. This obsession is forbidden. But why?

  She sighs and dips a cloth in the water before running the rag over her forehead and cheeks, down across her neck and the slightly exposed skin of her chest. Her hands linger over her shoulders as she tips her head, letting her hair fall down her back in a cascade of shining dark waves. A heavy ache takes hold between my legs, making me shift where I stand. What is this feeling? I want to know her the way a husband knows his wife. I’ve never felt this. Never. But now, I want nothing more. Not Heaven, not my wings, not my immortality.

  Guilt settles over my entire body as I continue to observe her innocent moments of solitude. She settles at the base of the largest tree and tilts her face up to the canopy of leaves, eyes closed, brow knitted. Something has upset her. Her breathing slows until it’s deep and even, the calm of sleep claiming her. I can’t resist her softness. I need to be touching her, soothing the ache I feel radiating from her. Closing the distan
ce between us, I kneel until I’m inches from her. This is not the choice I should be making, but I want the only expression on her face to be joy. And that joy must be mine to possess.

  Reaching forward, I allow myself the barest touch of her hair before I pull back. I know I can’t have her. But deep down, I also know it’s too late.

  It is done.

  I am already hers.

  Present day, Seattle

  My back stings with every step as I run the path around Green Lake. Michael’s parting gift to me, the etched tattoo of my long-lost wings, has been hurting more than usual over the last week. Maybe it’s all the pent-up power, or his way of trying to get me to give in and use my abilities. Either way, it’s annoying. My shirt brushes against the raised lines of ethereal ink, itching and burning like a sunburn.

  “Damn it all to hell,” I grumble, needing relief from the irritation against my skin.

  My breaths heavy from exertion, I find a place to rest, standing under the shade of a large tree as I pull my shirt over my head. In the short span of weeks since I was returned to my mortal form, I’ve struggled with the realization that I need to treat myself as though I were human, because although I’m stronger than a normal man, I can die from injury, even illness.

  “Hey, nice ink. Where’d you get that done?” The soft, feminine rasp catches me off guard, making my spine stiffen and my heart jump.

  I know that voice better than I know mine. Selah. I’ve avoided my urge to watch her for two weeks since Gabriel scolded me outside Starbucks. But it seems fate has other plans for us. Turning on my heel, I stare into eyes the gray of a storm cloud. A tumble of dark hair falls over one of her shoulders as she smiles at me, her body blocking the bright beam of the sun.

  Speak, you idiot, I tell myself, but words won’t form as I stand before her. She looks exactly the same. Her face still holds a gentle softness, full lips the same dusky rose color that seduced me the first time I saw her. Why would God put us in front of each other, in our original forms, if this wasn’t destined to be?