Beneath the Watching

4. Stefan

4

STEFAN

Mabel flew away, rushing over to her friends, following them to where I’d retrieved her from earlier. She frustrated me, her ambivalence and lack of transparency. She got under my skin, and I swore she could read me better than I could read her, her blue eyes staring straight into my soul whenever I was near her.

Whatever piece of my heart she could steal, she had. From the moment my eyes lit on her, sitting at a table in the casino with her friends, I was spellbound. She was a beautiful woman, certain to turn any man’s head, but that wasn’t what ensnared me. It was her knowing gaze and soft demeanor, the way she saw everything and didn’t balk at what she observed. She was the peaceful oasis in my desert of solitude and duty.

Before recently, I’d never spoken to her or shown any obvious interest, but it’d gotten to the point where I couldn’t help myself. There were too many changes with all the activity around Mabel’s friend Kiara, and I’d felt the urgency to stake my claim on the woman.

I could feel the oncoming storm even if I didn’t know what it was. If nothing else, I’d keep Mabel out of the way of the path of destruction and find a way to shelter her. While I wanted to publicly claim her, I knew I couldn’t, but what I could do was try and keep her safe.

I’d been watching her for months, getting to know her from afar, unbeknownst to her until recently. Lately, I’d felt her returning my observation, gleaning whatever information she could. She’d sneak glances or give herself away with a slight lean of her head as she pretended to be engrossed in other conversations, but I knew she was scouting me.

I certainly hadn’t expected my men to find her nearly comatose in the woods.

“Ilya,” I stopped the man who’d been my closest friend for as long as I could remember. “Done?” I asked.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, and pacing in a circle. It wasn’t often I saw him flustered. He collected himself, took a fortifying breath and pulled on the end of his suit coat. “Done,” he said, repeating my words.

Ilya had arranged for jewelry containing a tracking spell to be removed from the woman he loved; a woman who knew him as both Levon and as Ilya. She had been promised him since birth in a traditional arranged marriage both their fathers had set up eons ago, before she was stolen away as an infant.

Kiara had been stalked for years by another man, Ramone. He was a prince that’d given her the necklace and coincidently was the same man who’d removed her from her parents. This was all in addition to being followed and pursued by Ilya. While technically Ilya was also a prince, it wasn’t a station he’d ever fulfilled and it was merely a title that no one used other than his father, Victor.

It was a tense love triangle my friend was trapped in, and I wasn’t certain the woman would be able to resist Ramone’s charms. I’d never heard of anyone being able to—female or male, when he set his sights on them.

The three of them had made disastrous decisions, upended the balance of things, and set Kiara on a course of destruction. All I could do was sit back, observe the mess, and wait to interfere if I had to.

To make matters even worse, Ilya and Ramone worked together as partners at a very lucrative major corporation they co-owned and somehow managed to keep afloat but when it came to affairs of the heart, they were at terminal odds. There was no way all this would end well, although I’d support Ilya in whatever decision he made, my loyalty being unfailing.

“Are you sticking around?” Ilya asked me as we exited the ballroom. Mabel seized my gaze, holding a flute of champagne gripped in each hand as she darted through the crowd. He caught my perusal, raising a brow.

Annoyance buzzed through me; my obsession made me much too transparent. I didn’t want unnecessary attention placed on her.

“No,” I snapped at him. “I have things to attend to, as you know.”

While Ilya preferred to stay here in what we referred to as the Third Realm whenever possible. I much preferred the Fourth, where my wily young woman had gate-crashed, walking in socks through the snow before my men had found her and brought her to my quarters, likely saving her precious life.

Mabel seemed as if she didn’t know she had stumbled into a different existence, one full of magic and mystery. The place closely resembled here, in many, many ways. The hyper-reality of the Fourth meant that everything was enhanced—colors, smells, and tastes.

Access was limited to humans who had a gift, a gift for altering their consciousness or for being able to leave their body. Some would stumble in, believing they were dreaming and behaving in corresponding ways, or less often—because they had died.

Many of the Third Realm’s citizens had never stepped foot in the Fourth Realm but once they discovered it, they often never left. It was a preferable life and largely ungoverned, with a freedom one never found, here.

The convenience of the use of magic in an unpolluted world meant that everyday activities were easier and purer and the penalties for unwanted behavior were swift. Time was spent on education, exploration, and living one’s life in the manner they desired.

There were no taxes, no licensing, and no motorized transportation other than in one far corner of the alternate dimension. Time and distance operated differently in the Fourth Realm, with the clock moving slower and travel occurring at a much quicker rate.

The parallel universe was populated by humans, witches, mythical creatures, demons, and demon gods such as myself. A lot of the humans residing in that place had a natural talent for magic, but many were just ordinary citizens.

There was a loose government of sorts, with Ilya’s father, Victor running the southern half and a human named Lucian gifted with mild psychic powers, in the north. Even with their presence, the realm tended to operate as a free for all.

Those two men had bad blood between them, arguing frequently but mostly ignoring the other if no toes were stepped on. Staying out of each other’s way primarily consisted of pretending the other didn’t exist in order to keep the peace.

Lucien’s bloodline contributed to a vast network of natural witches and Victor’s, powerful demons. Traditionally, the sons and daughters born in such families were promised to each other at birth to keep the resulting gifts strong and contained within the ruling families. Lucien had recently failed to do that which left Ilya stealing a charmed item from a woman’s neck tonight.

For the second time this evening, a shrill feminine screech broke my concentration. It was the blonde who’d accompanied Mabel, waving a cellphone around in the air and going on about their friend being shoved off a cliff. Ilya shoved past me, jogging in her direction.

My heart stalled for a moment, Mabel’s face floating in front of my eyes, but then I felt her spirit and relief poured through me. She was fine, it was the other woman, Kiara, who’d dramatically vacated the premises.

Mildly concerned for Ilya, I strolled in the direction of the commotion and listened. Madison was accusing some of the attendees of murdering her best friend and Mabel was fruitlessly attempting to calm her while scanning the crowd, probably hoping to spot Kiara somewhere.

Her large eyes eventually set on me, a question in her gaze, and I shook my head lightly. Her friend was gone. Annoyance trickled through me with how she’d dare to think I had anything to do with it, if her inquisitive look in my direction was any indication of her thoughts on the matter. I couldn’t tell if she’d assumed my guilt or if she’d hoped I shed light on the situation.

Kiara hadn’t been murdered, but she might as well have been. I could feel it in the air, the bitter taste of vengeance and the sharpness of hate. I inhaled deeply, savoring the flavor on the back of my tongue. I knew my eyes flickered with pleasure when the object of my obsession's lips parted lightly. Winking at her in an uncharacteristically juvenile display, I let the throng close in between us, hiding me from her view.

I wound my way through the crowd, undecided whether I’d return home to the Fourth or make use of a guest room upstairs, here in the manor. One part of me wanted to stay and track the reaction to the frail human girl’s disappearance but the other longed for the quiet I’d find elsewhere.

The estate where I’d found myself tonight was owned by Julian, Ramone’s father, but he rarely spent time here and the home was open to any of us infernal creatures when the need arose. Despite Julian’s nefarious ways, the building was considered a neutral zone, of sorts. Often, it was rented by the human elite for various functions, such as tonight's ball, rather than being used by any one of us.

Multiple people eyed me on my way out of the ballroom. Some with fear, others with curiosity or lust, my appearance designed for such a visceral reaction. It was how we demons fed, taking sustenance from the base instinctual response of those unlucky enough to be visited by one of my kind. The frequency those emotions emitted kept us alive, preventing us from returning to formless, mindless wraiths.

Ilya and Ramone had designed technology that enabled the transaction between demons and humans to be much more efficient and prolific, and for that I was thankful. It left spans of time for other, more compelling pursuits. Multiple times he’d tried to bring me in as a third partner in their massive marketing and acquisition company, and at times I assisted, but to give in to the requests meant spending more hours here. That just wasn’t going to happen.

My position in the Fourth Realm as one of Lucien’s councilmen and a clergy took up most of my time. I’d educated myself extensively, in a variety of fields. From criminal law to theology, I’d made myself valuable in multiple ways over my many, many years. Knowledge was and always would be the ultimate power no matter how much magic one had been gifted with or not, and I needed all the help I could get.

Entering the statue-strewn hallway, I stopped when I felt a change in the atmosphere. My head buzzed as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end while a tingling sensation crawled through my cells. I couldn’t read what it was specifically, just that something had altered.

Being as sensitive as I was without the ability to deeply read or translate all the aberrations was frustrating, yet I knew it was her; she was the only one who did this to me. The little beauty left me blind and weak.

To take a moment and clear my head, I stopped and placed my hands down on a marble table that had small floral arrangements in porcelain bowls decorating the surface. I took several deep breaths, trying to will myself not to do anything stupid. Space was needed for me to formulate a plan, and I felt time slipping away from me, precious time. If she could see us, she was at risk, and I wasn’t ready.

Attempting to ground myself, I eyed an oil painting set in a gilded frame gracing the wall above and I was examining the colorful strokes when I felt a timid female presence join me.

“What are you doing?” Mabel came up behind me.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for your friend rather than accosting strangers?” I asked. Her dark hair gleamed in the light and the soft fragrance of jasmine drifted around her head.

“You know something,” she prodded.

Indeed, I did. “I know many things, least of all why you are questioning me.” I wanted to bring her home, rip her clothing off, and lose myself in her.

Undeterred, she asked, “Why did you help me the other night?”

I turned to face her. “I believe I left you wanting . Did your little boyfriend relieve you with deft strokes of his fingers?” She needed to stay away from me for now.

A pink glow skittered over her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you need help with?” My mouth was filling with saliva, the fragrance of her being filling me with an unquenchable thirst. Her innocence and quiet spirit were drawing me into their murky depths, threatening to strangle me. The sensation was tangible, and I crossed my arms over my chest in a bid for self-restraint. I never should have danced with her or held her and now I was choking on my impulses.

She stammered, “I’m...I’m not asking for help.”

Dropping my arms, I began to walk away, rounding the large circular table placed in the center of the massive foyer and dodging statues of various sizes.

The click-clack of footsteps followed me, and I wheeled on her. “What?” I bit out, my patience and self-control running too thin. I could’ve taken her. I could’ve dragged her willingly into one of the many empty rooms or brought her upstairs, or even brought her home where she still wouldn’t have been safe.

There was too much going on, too much to figure out, and Kiara’s untimely exit made it undeniably clear now was not a good time.

For whatever reason, I didn’t want to hurt her or disrupt her. It was out of character for me to have such tender or unselfish feelings. Bringing her into my life would almost certainly see her own cut short no matter the amount of fleeting satisfaction having her by my side would lend. It was inexplicable that I should be so caught up in one single, solitary woman and I wracked my brain trying to figure out why.

Perhaps because I’d never met a woman so calm and unaffected before, someone content to exist without the emotional maelstrom that plagued so many of her species. Calm, cool, and collected perfectly described the adorable woman who’d almost stumbled at my abrupt stop. There were others like her out there I was certain, but none were her.

I loved how she took enjoyment from watching what went on around her, seeming to weigh and measure and watch. She likely had a wealth of information tucked into her brilliant mind, piled underneath her satiny hair. She was smart, smarter than anyone seemed to give her credit for, and I was positive people regularly underestimated her. I knew the strange statements she occasionally uttered were an attempt to keep people away but for some reason, they just made me want to get closer.

Mabel shouldn’t have noticed me the way she had; she shouldn’t have been so attuned to me or my kind. She should’ve been terrified as soon as she saw we were different, but she wasn’t.

Her hands were now flattened against my chest, the heat of her palms seeping through my layers of clothing to send my heartbeat into thundering palpitations. I’d never wanted anything as badly as I did at this very moment.

I’d noticed Julian’s burgeoning interest in her although she hadn’t, and only a precise and strategic plan for her security would be acceptable. I didn’t have that yet.

Julian rarely took notice in the affairs of man and that he’d done so with Mabel was disturbing. It was unknown to me why he’d chosen her, but I knew it couldn’t be good. I didn’t want to alert him to my suspicions, if they were true. Any move I made could give away my position on the matter and spur him to action.

The one place Julian couldn’t get to her, the Fourth Realm, was too risky due to Kiara’s antics. The last thing I needed was her securing Ramone’s attention. I seriously doubted he’d let her live and I wasn’t going to take that chance by bringing her home with me.

“I...,” she muttered, “Never mind.” Her eyes cast down and she stared at my shoes while her touch slipped away. She turned on her heel to leave.

My arm darted out, wrapping around her front so my palm lay flat below her breasts, halting her escape. This was the first time I’d ever held her this close, felt her warm flesh pressed intimately against my own. My obsession with the woman deepened instantly and it pained me to think what that meant for her.

Glancing up, she stared in fascination and leaned against my shoulder. It felt as if she were cataloguing me, committing every part of me to her memory. She made no further move to get away, our gazes fixated on the other.

This was where she’d always belonged.

Bending my neck, I savored her scent without sipping on her before I reached over and touched the onyx statue of a griffin and pet its head. The neck of the winged lion moved a fraction of an inch, and her gaze dropped to the four-foot-tall decorative piece. As I rubbed my palm down its neck, its eyes blinked at her.

She inhaled, a short gasp leaving her throat while she eyed the sculpture. I pulled my hand away and vanished, taking my exit before she had the chance to witness me leave. She’d likely noticed the waver in the air, the flickering of the space I’d taken up a half second before. I didn’t know; I’d gone home.

After fastening my clerical collar around my neck, I examined myself in the mirror. Not a hair was out of place, my skin smooth and unblemished, the stark picture of righteousness and perfection.

I grabbed the thick Bible from my desk and pulled the tug-cord on the brass desk lamp before I stepped away. My sermon notes were neatly tucked under the front cover of the book and my pen clipped to the edge of the sheath. I’d missed delivering the last service because I was busy attending an eventful oceanside ball and it felt good to be back where I belonged. I had the honor of leading citizens to righteousness in both the north and south kingdoms, though it was Lucian who’d originally employed me.

“Will you be a part of today’s congregation?” I asked Benjamin. He was seated on a small sofa, reading a magazine called the National Enquirer while Jack stood sentry outside the door.

Benjamin huffed. “No, of course not.” He hadn’t bothered to meet my gaze.

I bent down, pressing the golden crucifix on the necklace I’d wrapped around my wrist to his forehead. “Bless him Father, for he knows not what he has done.”

The man squirmed as I laughed. “You’re a sick fuck,” he muttered. “Asshole.”

A thrill ran through me as I nursed the small rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The power I wielded over many of the citizens in the Fourth Realm was a privilege I didn’t take lightly, despite the private jokes. Giving the people something greater than themselves to believe in bestowed them with a sense of purpose, and it kept them in line.

It was far too easy to instill fear over something one could not see, taste, or touch, with threats of punishment or a painful demise to inspire compliance. It kept the humans in line with little effort. Control in any form I could harness provided me with a sense of security.

“I’ll forgive you your sins when you bring me dinner,” I told him, opening the door and walking out. I nodded at Jack and strode down the hall. It was too late for Benjamin’s redemption, his family having been demons for generations, but it didn’t stop me from antagonizing him.

Truth be told, I rarely ate and didn’t expect him to bring me a meal. I mainly subsisted on the energy in the atmosphere. Many of my kind indulged regularly, dragging unwitting humans away and devouring their souls. I didn’t want to be bothered to go to all the trouble that entailed, although I fully understood the allure.

No one and nothing would control me beyond myself. It would be much too easy to get lost in a haze of hunger and lust if I’d indulged more often than I already did.

Benjamin and Jack, my personal guards, were lesser demons and indulged in live souls even less than I, not having much use for it while being able to extract the substances needed from the air the way humans did oxygen.

There was also the matter of lesser demons not needing the same amounts of energy from the atmosphere as my peers—which had its pros and cons. The cons being, they couldn’t make much use of any magic they obtained and the pros being they’d be fine no matter what disturbance altered the supply.

We enjoyed so-called normal food frequently as well but preferred the untainted fruit and meats of the Fourth Realm. Sustenance in the Third was nowhere near the quality available here, having been altered and modified with chemicals and filler to the point it was nearly unrecognizable as food.

The church wasn’t far from Victor’s castle, where I resided. I left my wing, where my quarters were located, and took the staircase down, pushing open the door at the end. It brought me to the entrance hall, its walls decorated with weapons no longer used, gleaming blades fixed to the walls to shine under the light of the massive circular chandeliers that hung overhead. The space was empty of people other than a solitary soul skipping up the grand staircase to my right.

I exited through the double doors and stepped out into the light; my boots silent as I traversed the bridge. The fortress was situated near a ridge with green valleys below and a wall of mountains in the background to the north. Crows fluttered overhead and small, chestnut brown squirrels scampered around my heels before dashing to the end of the walkway and disappearing below.

After taking a left onto the road, I walked down the tree-covered pathway and observed the parishioners heading into the towering gray brick cathedral, three steeples gracing the roof and a smaller one over the front doorway. I made my way to the back of the building, letting myself in through a private entrance out of the sight of my reverent congregation.

It gave me perverse pleasure, knowing they trusted I was a holy man, here to lead them into righteousness. Some of the members knew I was anything but divine, but they believed I’d repented my sins and strove for forgiveness. Most importantly, they also knew better than to share what they had learned of my personal business and seeming lack of humanity. My demon blood wasn’t a secret in general, as most knew of the variety of creatures existing in the realm. However, there were advantages to keeping a low profile in the church.

Once in my office, I double-checked my notes and smoothed down my suit coat. As I’d done for years, I stood on the other side of the door that would lead me out in front of the people who’d gathered waiting to be absolved of their wrongdoings. Today, communion would be served providing an extra measure of ritualistic exoneration to the needy crowd.

I humbly kept my head down as I walked out, before gently placing my Bible on the wooden pulpit. With care, I slid my notes from between the pages and set them to the left of the book. I raised my head. The audience ceased their whispers and greetings to one another and placed all their attention on the man standing in front of them.

The people were rapt as I extolled the virtues of a pure life, the abstaining from the sins of the flesh, and the consequences of indulgence. Our bodies were a vessel for the Creator, fit to be cleansed with fiery brimstone, our salvation lying in our integrity and the denial of our impulses. My job was to help them, remind them that such lofty pursuits were possible if only we could strive a little bit harder every single day. Self-condemnation was but a mere sliver of the process of asking for forgiveness.

One of the double entrance doors opened a crack during my sermon and I spied slim fingers gripping the door’s edge as it swung open. My thundering monologue stuttered for a half second, my concentration thrown off by the unexpected disturbance. Who would dare arrive late?

My gaze tracked Mabel as she threaded her way through bent knees to take a seat in one of the farthest pews. Her eyes met mine, bright and questioning, and I stared her down. The remainder of my discourse was spoken to her, and her alone. My profound physical response to the woman left me trapped behind the ornate stand when all I wanted to do was sweep her from the bench, lock her in my office, and bend her over my knee.

She remained unmoved by my lecture for the duration; the force of my words having the effect on her of a bedtime story told after a sweet tuck-in and kiss on the cheek. I should’ve expected as much from my stoic beauty.

When it was time for communion I pulled my assistant, Frederick, to the side, and instructed him to refrain from serving the newcomer any wine or wafers. This ceremony was to be presented to her by me, in private.

His gaze lingered a fraction too long, and I quickly dipped my eyes to hide what I was sure was an unnerving crimson glow. Frederick was somewhat acclimated to my so-called quirks, but it would have been best if no one else noticed until I could get the demonic blood back under control.

My mind raced around, trying to decide what to do that would force her to lower her facade. Would she admit she longed for me as much as I, her, or did she have another purpose for frequenting the Fourth Realm? My heart thudded against my ribs.

Mabel’s communion would have to be extra special.

I was playing with fire, and I knew it and yet I couldn’t stop the thrumming of blood in my veins over a mere glimpse of her. Her quiet spirit both intrigued and enflamed me. Certainly, she would be attracted if she were to keep showing up. The possibility gave me hope.

This would all be a lot easier if she were willing but at this point, it was beginning to not matter. My intuition was telling me there was more to her than most could gather; all the signs were there. If my suspicions were correct, I’d take her sooner rather than later, the working out of logistics be damned. I’d figure it out as I went along.

I’d expected her to seek me out after the Autumn ball but according to Ilya, she never did.

As it were, it appeared she had the responsiveness of a single celled organism to my presence. There was no reason she shouldn’t have been under my spell already, begging for me, throwing herself at me. She hadn’t tried to seduce me as most would. Normally, all I had to do was look at a woman, direct some of my energy toward them, and I’d have a meal and company for the evening if I so desired.

Mabel’s reaction was confusing and a mystery I needed to unveil, and it made me want her all the more. It would come as no surprise if she had magic running through her veins.

Frederick served the food and beverage, lifting a hand to halt Mabel’s retrieval of either item. A flash of confusion briefly distorted her countenance, and she sat back down. There was no need to convey to anyone she was to remain behind, I knew she was here to see me even if only to spew questions. She wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Normally, I took up residence in the chapel after a sermon, greeting my guests and exchanging meaningless well-wishes, catching up on the banalities of their lives. This time, I left the pulpit and ducked into my church office, locking the door behind me before I slid the hidden blade from my sleeve.

My heart pounded in my chest as I lifted one of the tiny crystal glasses from the short stack I kept on a silver tray. I needed to be inside Mabel more than I needed to take my next breath. The poison of her spirit infiltrated my consciousness, crowding everything else out. She had to suffer too; I wasn't going to do this alone. It was unfair, the advantage she had, blocking her psyche, and rendering my attempts to translate her intentions fruitless. There was no choice left, she was driving me into madness even if she had no idea she did so.

In my mind’s eye, I saw her soft blue eyes gazing up at me, the ebony of her hair framing her face. After lightly dragging the silver edge of the blade along my wrist, I squeezed, patiently waiting for my life force to fill the cup to an acceptable level.

Satisfied with the contents, I chanted a brief spell designed to alter the blood’s spiritual frequency and change the taste and appearance. Her body and eyes would now accept it without hesitation while giving me the access to her that I’ve been so fervently denied. She would quickly learn I could read her, and she’d stop blocking my attempts.

Was I manipulating her? It didn’t matter, she’d never know. I’d learned from the best.

As expected, she was still in the otherwise now-vacant building. I stopped several yards away from her and motioned to her, curling my middle and index fingers. She stood up slowly and obeyed my command. The smell of the chapel’s incense mingled with her soft, floral fragrance beguiling and tempting me to give in to my baser instincts.

“Do you desire absolution?” I greeted her, trying to stop the smug tilt of my lips and failing.

Mabel’s gaze darted around the church, resting a moment on the colorful stained glass gracing the back wall. The sun’s beams streamed through the rainbow glass leaving a highlight of blue on her cheek that perfectly complemented her eyes.

“I don’t sin,” she said, shaking her head.

Holding out the small glass I’d been clutching, I said, “The deadliest sins are those that make us feel most alive.”

She took the glass from me, her fingers gripping it from the top. “I didn’t know you’re a pastor.”

“Drink.” Normally, I used magic with restraint, preferring to rely on my powers of intellect. If this kept up, I’d find myself using it with abandon the way Ilya, Ramone, and the others did. It was ironic, how I needed the assistance of spells more often than my peers and utilized them the least. It wasn’t something I cared to dwell on, and I did what I had to, when needed.

Mabel lifted the cup to her face, and I watched her chest rise and fall. She glanced at me before taking a small sip. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips, and removing any traces of the fluid around her mouth. Her trusting nature sent a dart of anger through my chest. What if I had meant her harm?

“Finish it.”

She pulled her arm back and lowered the vessel, waiting a few seconds before she raised it again. “Good girl,” I said, my pulse beating frenetically in my veins as her throat bobbed.

She handed me the empty glass, the tips of her fingers brushing mine, and glanced around the empty chapel. She then sauntered toward the pulpit and stopped, tilting her head back.

I was waiting for a reaction to transpire, a noticeable difference in her behavior due to her having consumed the liquid. My own impatience grated at me. I would have to give her a moment to admire the beauty of my church’s sanctuary and wait for the hex to take effect.

Stepping in front of her after waiting a beat, I demanded, “Tell me why you are here.” This was the second time she’d shown up in this Realm, and come into my company, without an explanation. She was disturbing my peace with her beauty and with the drama surrounding her friend, I couldn’t help but be wary.

Despite my caution, all I could think about was sinking my teeth into her juicy flesh and marking her as mine. I wanted to bend her over my knee as punishment for my emotional turmoil and expose her flesh as she threatened to expose my secrets by her visitations.

“Are you bringing me here?” she asked.

I searched her eyes for deception and examined her face. My kind could read humans’ auras, their energy, but when it came to Mabel I was stymied. Under my perusal, there was nothing of outward concern I could sense, no subterfuge. It left me having to evaluate her innocence through her micro expressions.

From what I’d witnessed of her actions, she’d likely not be motivated to cause me trouble or try and incur harm. However, a sense of unease burrowed in my chest while I impatiently waited for the sorcery to take effect.

“I am not,” I answered. A brief flicker of disappointment crossed her face, and she dipped her head down.

“Would you like me to?” I asked her the question, knowing I was engaging in a dangerous game. If I got my meticulously manicured claws into her, I’d not let go. She didn’t deserve that but it seemed I couldn’t help myself.

“Do you know what happened to Kiara?”

I did, but I wasn’t going to allow her that knowledge. The woman she’d asked about had returned here, to the Fourth Realm, and was currently wandering the forests undetected by most.

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. Do you?”

Mabel continued to scan the room, taking in the solid oak molding, and soaring arched windows. Night was falling rapidly; in the unnerving way it had a habit of doing here. One moment it was midday, and the next, midnight.

After a minute, she shrugged and spoke again. “I don’t, but I have to wonder. I’d like to think she’s here rather than home.”

Her seeming lack of alarm for her friend’s wellbeing was stark. “Why?”

Her eyes sparkled. “So, this is elsewhere.”

Begrudgingly, I had to smile. I’d let my guard down and she’d tricked me. “Most would think that.”

“I would’ve thought it was a dream if it wasn’t for the other things.” She twisted around with her head tilted back, a look of admiration across her face as she examined the elaborately carved arches of the ceiling. “I’m going to find her, you know. Bring her back.”

Alarmed, I insisted, “You can’t do that.”

Mabel answered me with a small smile, she knew I’d said too much. “I can try,” she said.

Night had now fallen, suddenly plunging us into darkness. I lit some candles with a flick of my wrist and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the woman in front of me.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

Grateful I’d distracted her, I asked, “Can you not do whatever you want in your dreams?” A single step brought me closer to her. I lifted a tentative hand to her face to caress her cheek with my thumb.

As I’d hoped, she didn’t move a muscle, rather, she turned her gaze to meet mine. “It's something other than that,” she said. Her eyes had a desperate light to them, she wanted me to assuage her fears in a rare display of vulnerability. She was drowning in a sea of unknowns and desperately hoping I’d throw her a lifeline.

My hand gripped her cheek. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep her in place. “What else would it be?” I asked her. She was unnervingly peaceful over what she should’ve assumed was solely her imagination. Her reactions were continuously atypical, I noted, as I gathered what little information I could glean from her responses. She was curious and yet also defeated, hopeful while also resigned.

The building’s bones creaked as a gust of wind rushed across the roof and the candles’ flames swayed in a draft. Thin trickles of smoke lifted from the wax, and I re-lit them with a gentle wave of my hand. She remained silent, observing the space around us.

Finally, she spoke. “I don’t know.” My heart thumped in my chest.

“You don’t know,” I growled. “There are too many things you claim you are in ignorance of.” It was right there, and I sensed she knew it. In her heart of hearts, she knew the truth and yet insisted on denying herself the knowledge she contained.

Changing the subject, she said, “I didn’t know you were a holy man.”

I couldn’t stop the deep laugh that bubbled from my chest. “One more thing to add to the list,” I replied. “Come with me,” I instructed her, taking a firm hold of her upper arm and snagging my Bible and notes with my other hand. She needed to leave, and it was better she continued to live in willful ignorance and lies for her own sake.

My grip didn’t loosen as I led her back toward my office. Once inside, I grabbed a jacket from the coat stand and pulled it on before clutching her again. I switched off the lamps after grabbing a messenger bag and slid my materials inside. Mabel looked around slowly, likely noting the piles of reading material, the clusters of candles, the exquisite woodworking and trim.

One window remained open, allowing the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle to fill the confines of the room. The combination of wood, paper, wax, and flowers was comforting, the scent filling me with a rare peacefulness due to its familiarity. A relaxing sensation my human ward had stolen from my psyche with her abrupt appearance in my stomping grounds.

Tugging her across the room, her steps faltered for a moment until she clasped my shoulder and caught her balance. Pulling a set of keys from my pocket, I unlocked the heavy oak door and shoved her through the opening as gas sconces flickered on and I shut the door.

Mabel remained quiet and uncomplaining about my slightly rough handling of her. My palm slid from her arm to grasp her fingers as I moved her behind me, my touch gentler. A steep staircase descended before us. “Hold onto the railing,” I said over my shoulder, my voice thick with want.

The air shifted to a much chillier temperature, and she stuck as close to me as she could, presumably attempting to absorb my body heat. Beings of my kind tended toward a natural higher warmth, and she would instinctually pursue the comfort my proximity offered. The cold should have bothered me more than it did, but my heavy wool coat and hellish blood solved the problem.

Despite the illumination of the lamps fixed to the walls a thick darkness pressed in, chasing the meager glow of the flames into the corners. The blackness reached out with dense shadows that curled around our bodies, ebbing, and flowing as the temperature dropped sharply. Mabel clung to my arm like a koala bear, causing me to think she was possibly afraid of the dark.

“Is something the matter?” I twisted to glance at her, my breath freezing mid-air as I exhaled. The fine mist shattered, raining down on her hair like powder.

Her teeth chattered as she shook her head. Suddenly, she stilled, digging her soles into the rough-hewn rock beneath our feet. I watched as she slowly turned her head side to side.

“What was that?” she asked, searching for something.

I yanked on her arm. “What?” We didn’t have time for this; I needed to get her out of here before she was discovered. She may not have known but her being here physically and not just spiritually indicated the likely presence of magic in her blood.

Despite my internal battle over the fact, I knew she had magic. Ilya could tell as well and while I didn’t have to worry about my friend, there were others that wouldn’t be so kind. It’d taken me a little while to be certain, but I now knew she was fully here. She wasn’t here in spirit with the facsimile of a body, she was completely present.

She refused to move. “That sound. A voice?”

A chill ran down my spine. This was exactly what I was afraid of, that she’d be one of them . There was a quiet legend of a specific bloodline, a group of women gifted with immense magic. Rumors had swirled in private, but the gossip wasn’t widely known. I’d never discussed it publicly or with anyone I knew. I’d caught snippets of whispered tales in my travels throughout different Realms and kept the speculation to myself. With Kiara’s arrival, and now Mabel’s, I knew there must be some basis of truth to the stories.

Mabel had mentioned music I couldn’t hear, when Benjamin and Jack delivered her to me. Now, she was hearing voices. She possessed more than merely standard magic. The chatter I’d heard in the past mentioned specified gifts. Clairaudience was on that list.

“You’re the only one making noise. Move.” I yanked on her arm, and she tore away from my grasp.

Mabel took a tentative step to the right and closed her eyes. “I hear it. It's pretty. A woman.”

“Mabel, enough. We have to go,” I snarled. She appeared perfectly at peace, almost in a meditative state.

A small smile curled the edges of her lips, and she took another step as my heart fell down to my knees. Just before she tumbled over the side of a cliff she was completely unaware of, I grabbed her, earning a small gasp from her lips. The sound brought images to my mind that had nothing to do with our current situation and everything to do with what I dreamed of.

With my arms under her shoulders, I dragged her to the wall. Her face was pale and her mouth trembling as I sat down, pulling her onto my lap. A split second later, and she would’ve been gone.

“I told you we have to go,” I chided her, breathing in her scent, and resting my chin on her head. Several deep inhalations later, I calmed my frantic blood. She had no idea how close she had come to being lost; adrift somewhere she’d be eternally lost and beyond my reach.

Mabel pressed her forehead into my chest. “What was that?”

“That was nothing. There’s nothing there; it's a void. Like a black hole, for reference.” No one knew precisely what it was or why it possessed an odd consciousness. Supposedly, there was an ocean, a body of water of some type at the bottom, but no one in existence had seen it to be able to say for sure. It was only an assumption as far as I knew.

She turned her gaze up at me. “The voice?”

“There was no voice.” I hadn’t heard a thing; we were the only two below ground in the immediate area so any voice other than our own should be impossible. Rumors circulated that the ravine possessed sentience, but it hadn’t been proven.

I prided myself on having rare knowledge, but the crevasse was one I was annoyingly ignorant of, and I had no way to know for sure what she was hearing. It had to have been due to the magic in her blood.

Mabel had been in my presence for merely an hour and already she’d almost lost her life. That coupled with what I strongly suspected about her and her lineage, and it was becoming increasingly dangerous to have her here, or anywhere around me.

She would’ve been fine if I hadn’t turned my sights on her. The best thing I could do for her was to get her out of the Fourth Realm. My past had taught me to take every precaution when it came to those I loved or cared about. I’d known my mother had set her sights on my sister, and I never interfered. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again and most certainly not with Mabel.

Despite my longing for her, I’d have to figure out a way to keep her out of my crosshairs if I were to protect her. I had to make her want to leave and never come back.

“There was. I know there was. It said something about a stolen baby.”