You see, Watcher, I'm not stupid enough to think you really want me to fail.
"Chosen is the wrong word," the Watcher said.
"What mortal doesn't fear death?" the Watcher asked, his brow furrowing.
"I'm glad you ask," the Watcher said, his gaze darkening.
"My own little mini-Watcher," Damian said, holding out his hand to her.
The rain didn't touch the Watcher, and Jule crossed his arms.
The Watcher clenched his teeth, green eyes flaring with light and spinning before he regained his temper.
"I'd rather someone else take this on, but you're my only option," the Watcher said in plain distaste.
The Watcher lingered for a moment.
The Watcher didn't look happy.
Satisfied it was getting what it wanted, the Watcher left him alone.
You know well enough what the Others will do in the human realm, the Watcher said.
The Watcher all but spat the words.
Whatever this Watcher was planning, it wasn't good.
He'd nearly reached the end of the alley when the hair on the back of his neck rose like it did when a Watcher was present, only this was no Watcher.
She wasn't the threat the Watcher made her out to be.
He ignored the irritated Watcher and shrugged deeper into his blanket.
"The Others …" The Watcher drew a deep breath.
He kicked himself mentally for not thinking before he made any sort of pact with the Watcher, even one that seemed so straightforward, until he met his target and realized she was an innocent caught in the crossfire.
"A powerful innocent," the Watcher corrected him.
"You're right," the Watcher said.
The Watcher was silent.
"We can't track them in the mortal realm," the Watcher said.
"Thank you, ikir," the Watcher said.
Again he felt more was going on than the damn Watcher let on.
Suddenly, he understood why the Watcher couldn't find her.