Obedient. Of singular focus. Without flaw or misstep. Practically fucking perfect in every way. Rupert gave a derisive snort and with a toss, the diary landed on his bed. He'd questioned his father about these Stepford Slayers.
Never a little sarky with her Watcher? Never.
Maybe fancied a boy she shouldn't? Training superceeds dating. Boys are not a distraction.
Perhaps girls, then?
Sputtering, his father had closed the topic, reiterating the party line. He was to memorize, not question. The journals were most certainly true.
"True, my arse."
If he were a Watcher, he'd show them what truth looked like.