You see, Watcher, I'm not stupid enough to think you really want me to fail.
"What mortal doesn't fear death?" the Watcher asked, his brow furrowing.
The rain didn't touch the Watcher, and Jule crossed his arms.
"Chosen is the wrong word," the Watcher said.
She wasn't the threat the Watcher made her out to be.
The Watcher clenched his teeth, green eyes flaring with light and spinning before he regained his temper.
"I'm glad you ask," the Watcher said, his gaze darkening.
Whatever this Watcher was planning, it wasn't good.
The Watcher lingered for a moment.
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.
He ignored the irritated Watcher and shrugged deeper into his blanket.
The Watcher didn't look happy.
"My own little mini-Watcher," Damian said, holding out his hand to her.
"I'd rather someone else take this on, but you're my only option," the Watcher said in plain distaste.
You know well enough what the Others will do in the human realm, the Watcher said.
The Watcher all but spat the words.
"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.
Satisfied it was getting what it wanted, the Watcher left him alone.
Again he felt more was going on than the damn Watcher let on.
Suddenly, he understood why the Watcher couldn't find her.
"Thank you, ikir," the Watcher said.