Storm Watcher (Watcher Series #2) by Lilith Saintcrow

From the Publisher

All Mariamne Niege wants to do is finish her thesis and get a job. Unfortunately, her life isn't that simple. She's a Guardian now, and her visions of the future have grown so intense she is literally blind to the world while in their grip. Not to mention that her Watcher, Hanson, is sleeping on her couch and scaring her roommates when he's not shepherding her through the visions and calming her progressively worsening nightmares. Then the earthquakes start, warning of an even bigger disaster approaching--a disaster that could level her beloved city and claim both hers and her best friend's lives. A disaster that her visions say could be triggered by Hanson. Hanson has his own problems. He joined the Watchers to atone for a life of lies, but it seems the only way he can protect Mari is to use some of his less than honest talents. She is the only witch who can ease the agony of being a Watcher, and the only woman in the world he wants. But the distance between them grows daily, and the entire city is uneasy as the earthquakes start. Then Mari's house is broken into and her roommates slaughtered by the Dark. In order to save Mari from the evil that hunts her, he's going to have to become more of what frightens her. It's a hell of a choice, and one he isn't sure he can make...

Product Details

• Read an Excerpt

Read an Excerpt

He tore the thick, wooden, iron-barred door off its hinges by the simple expedient of sinking his fingers into the metal crosspieces and setting his feet, then yanking back with every erg of strength he possessed. Metal squealed and snapped, wood exploded, and a wild-eyed Mari scrambled out of the stinking darkness inside the crypt. Her hair curled wildly, streaming back from her face. She was still screaming, her cheeks paper-pale except for splotches of hectic color high on each cheekbone.

Hanson's hands closed around her shoulders. He half-spun, bringing up the gun, pointing at whatever Dark lurked in the crypt's chill blackness.

She struggled frantically, kicking and clawing at him, probably mad with fear. "Easy, sweetheart," he said, the undertone of Power in his voice slicing through her screams. "Easy. I'm here. It's all right. I'm here."

Whatever was inside the crypt retreated. A foul stench of rotting flesh and swamp water boiled out of the stone cube. She was in there alone for how long? I am going to torture that gargoyle to death. I swear it on my sword, I am going to clip his wings down to nubs and pull out his claws before I slit his throat an inch at a time. "Easy, sweetheart. Shhh, Mari, Mariamne, I'm here. It's me. Relax." Come out so I can kill you, he thought, the gun never wavering. Come on. "Be easy, sweetheart. I've found you, it's all right. What were you thinking, hmmm?"

She stiffened, staring up at him, her blue eyes ringed with white. The perfume of her fear, Power trembling, ready to escape her control, folded around him. His nerves tingled, bathing in it, drinking in the smell of his witch. In that moment heunderstood far more about the Dark than he ever wanted to. He was hungry for her, hungry for her light. What would he do if she denied him?