Beneath the Watching

5. Mabel

5

MABEL

The voice had been melodic, repeating “stolen baby” over and over, the sweet cadence luring me in. If Stefan hadn’t grabbed me, I’d have plunged into the darkness. The way he looked right now, it felt like he wouldn’t have minded. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed as if he wanted to scream at me before throwing me down there himself.

“There are no stolen children—there’s no children at all. We’re the only ones down here. I need you to move—now.”

“Why are there no children? There must be, somewhere,” I asked as I realized I hadn’t seen anyone that was probably younger than their twenties.

“It's not a suitable environment. When there is one, they don’t leave the castle until they reach adulthood.” His answer left me with more questions, but I didn’t pursue them.

Pressing my hand onto his shoulder, I stood up and brushed myself off and waited. My skin felt tingly, electric, and the air felt as if it had a physical form, like it was alive. There was no way to explain how everything surrounding us seemed to have a life force running through it.

Where it should’ve terrified me, it didn’t. It was comforting and made me feel less alone. The voice I’d heard hadn’t been threatening, it was maternal if nothing else. Only the threat of a so-called black hole stopped me from exploring more.

That, and the angry man who’d just grabbed my hand.

“You can’t be here,” Stefan mumbled for what seemed like the millionth time.

I let him pull me forward, the warmth of his palm soothing me. It didn’t make any sense why he was constantly upset with me; I hadn’t asked to be here. I wanted to be—but it wasn’t as if I’d tried. I’d woken up in this strange land again, finding myself outside the doors of a beautiful stone church, and I just knew he was in there, waiting for me.

“I like it here.”

“That’s too damn bad.” Stefan’s gaze flashed crimson and he hurried his steps a bit more.

He rushed me through a long walkway, my view blocked by his shoulders. He wasn’t quite as big or as physically imposing as the men he spent time with at the casino, but his presence made up for the difference. He was able to intimidate without saying a single word. It was as if he gathered the angst and bitterness from the atmosphere and focused it on anyone around him, subduing others with a timed glance or a carefully placed straightening of his shoulders. He studied others, as I did, gathering information.

Stefan was much larger than me, in every way, and I found myself wanting to peel the layers, both of his clothing and of his spirit, to see what lay beneath. I knew I had no business, wanting to be closer to him since I had Al, but it felt like a beacon was attached to him. I couldn’t help but answer the call.

Digging my heels in when he yanked on me felt like it almost tore my arm from the socket. “I don’t want to leave,” I insisted.

The anger seemed to vibrate from him in waves, his eyes piercing me like the sharpest blade. He squeezed my hand hard enough to leave bruises; I felt the bones of my fingers crushing against each other. “That is not your decision, you little witch.”

Left speechless under the force of his tone, I froze. He closed the space between us, and his arm darted out, his fingers wrapping around my neck. “How many times do I have to dismiss you before you get the hint?” My eyes watered and I tried to swallow, to no avail. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t breathe.

Without warning, he let go and I stumbled, grabbing his leg to slow my fall. The material of his pants was clasped in my grip, and I looked up into his incandescent gaze. “Why do you hate me so much?” I choked out, as the water gathered in my eyes finally spilled over.

There was no reason this man should hold such animosity toward me, I’d never done a thing to him. The fabric of his clothing slipped away from me, and I sat on the cold stone floor for a second time.

He squatted in front of me, his eyes softening the slightest at what he must’ve assumed were tears of pain and leaned in, licking my cheek. The motion was startling, causing my head to bang against the rock wall. He shoved his arms under my shoulders to bring me to a standing position before tugging me down the pathway again.

Stefan hurried us along until we came to a tall staircase that ascended into the gloom. “Walk in front of me,” he ordered, dragging me against his chest.

His scattered breaths warmed my neck as I began to slowly climb. “Don’t touch the door at the top,” he said. His paranoia was uncomfortable, in direct opposition to the feeling of his body lightly brushing mine while we made our way up. That felt entirely right, even with his current animosity.

When we reached our destination, I pressed myself to the wall, leaving space for him to grab his keys and work the mechanism. Once the door was opened, he led us into the space I had found myself before, the place that must’ve been his home.

Uncertain of what I should do, and what he’d allow, I went over to the couch I’d laid on the last time and spread out, leaning my head on the armrest. I would’ve preferred more exploring, and some answers but I didn’t want to poke the bear.

Stefan ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face and he placed his leather bag on a table. A knock sounded on the door across the room. “Not now,” he bit out, before turning toward me.

He stalked over to the couch, his face dark. “I won’t keep repeating myself. I’ve been quite lenient with you. However, that ends now. You will not return here again. Am I making myself understood?”

My eyes squeezed shut. Why was he acting like this? An unfamiliar pang pinched my heart, leaving me breathless for a split second. This made no sense; my draw to him. It wasn’t even on purpose—I didn’t know why I kept showing up in his orbit, I didn’t consciously seek it out. It defied explanation. He was the first person, since I was a child, to induce my tears and I didn’t know what to make of it.

When I opened my eyes, he was leaning over me, one arm braced on the back of the couch and his other hand on the armrest by my head. He appeared menacing, furious with either me or himself. I stared at him. There was something else beneath the mask of anger, beneath his watching. Something soft around his edges.

He wouldn’t ever hurt me, would he? I had trouble believing he would, grabbing onto the sliver of compassion I’d detected. How would he do it, if he did? Was he serious—or did he wish he was? He’d grabbed my neck in the tunnel and he could’ve killed me then and there, but he didn’t. He would’ve let me tumble over the cliff if he wanted me gone so badly.

I felt separated from my body as I dissociated. He may have been able to hurt my physical form if he desired, but he couldn’t touch my soul. I was safe no matter what he may attempt. My thoughts were detached and clinical as I pondered the extensive possibilities.

My breathing slowed down further as I relaxed into the cushions and snared a blanket from the upper edge of the sofa. “I’ll just go to sleep, that's worked in the past,” I assured him. “I’ll try to leave you be.”

Appearing satisfied, he lowered himself to the couch beside me, grabbing the blanket and began to unfold it. He stopped himself short, his lip curling, and tossed it over me in a lump. “I highly suggest you do that.”

I popped an eyelid open and quickly snapped it back shut when he narrowed his eyes. A finger trailed across my forehead, smooth and cool, and the deep musical tune I’d heard the last time I was in his room began to flow around me.

“What music is this?” The sound entered my ears and drifted down to my chest, the cadence seeming to mix within me, to become a part of me.

A deep sigh sounded from above me, but I didn’t look. “There’s no music, Mabel. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afflicted with an illness.”

He was messing with me, there was no way he didn’t hear it. I couldn’t help myself. “You’re an asshole,” I whispered.

He rewarded me by biting my lip before he trailed his nose along my cheek. His lips brushed mine and then I was gone.

I woke up on my own couch, the morning sun streaming through the white vertical blinds of my and Al’s living room.

“You sleep like the dead,” Al sang out. “Good morning.” I heard a light thunk and knew it was his laptop bag being dropped onto the kitchen counter. The open floor plan of the house left the dining room, sunken living room, and office exposed to the spacious cooking area. I didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, I could’ve sworn I’d slept beside my boyfriend in our bed.

The memory of my last moment with Stefan filled my head and it felt as if a ghostly pair of lips had caressed my mouth. I rubbed my face and sat up. “Good morning,” I replied.

The question of whether I’d been in a bed at any point over the last several hours hovered over me, but I ignored it.

My phone rang shrilly, demanding my attention. It was Madison, who I hadn’t heard from for days. “Hello.”

“Mabel, she’s gone,” Madison cried into the phone.

It was a relief she couldn’t see my wince. “I know, I’m sorry,” I offered uselessly.

Madison’s voice wavered in and out, letting me know she was moving around. I heard the accompanying noises in the background—a door shutting, a thump, others’ voices drifting. She was likely out somewhere for breakfast and shopping, fast becoming addicted to her lifestyle of expanding wealth.

“What could’ve happened though? Who’d want to hurt her?” my friend whined.

I didn’t answer. Kiara wasn’t known for her sparkling personality. She was difficult, emotional, and overly direct at times. I loved her, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility she’d mouthed off to the wrong person. “I have no idea,” I answered honestly. “Are you sure someone killed her?”

Madison raised her voice slightly, “Of course. What if it was that guy? What if he had a girlfriend and he was cheating on her with Kiara, and she killed her?”

“I don’t know about that, that seems unlikely.” I thought about Levon and his scowl-y face. Sure, he was hot and probably had his pick of women—but he seemed too busy and focused to have enough time to sleep around, from what I’d seen of him.

There was a rush of voices as if she’d just passed through a crowd. “BUT we don’t know.”

I sighed. “No, we don’t. She’s been weird lately. Weirder than usual.” After I said the words, I cringed. I shouldn’t have said anything. This was exactly why I always tried not to talk too much.

“What do you mean?” Madison demanded.

Backtracking, I replied,” Don’t pay attention to me, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“You’re the last person who’d notice if anything was weird,” Madison said, mocking me.

Instantly, I was grateful I hadn’t shared more of my recent thoughts or observations with my best friend. Her unwanted criticism burned a little, festering in a tiny knot in the pit of my stomach. I looked for subtleties—was she implying something about her and Al? Had that remark slipped out unwittingly? Maybe she was just stressed because our friend had disappeared?

Ever since my encounter with Stefan, things had been starting to get to me. Over the past week, I’d become even more restless, more aware of intricacies and the careful dances people engaged in over topics that could ignite firestorms with just one misplaced word. I didn’t like it; my protective shield was being chipped little by little, a sliver at a time. Whatever was going on with Kiara had upended everything, it seemed.

“You’re probably right,” I responded inanely.

Madison barreled over the conversation, ignoring my reply. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Let’s post on social media—all of them, even Twitter. Snapchat? Nah, never mind that one. Do pictures of her and make sure you caption correctly. Someone will comment if they’ve seen her. I have to go to the police station later. Want to come?”

She didn’t give me a chance to say anything and continued. “We’ll make posters and put them around town. Just staple them to trees and stuff, I guess?”

“Madison,” I cut in, “I can’t today, I’m sorry.” Why would she staple trees? I shook my head.

“I’m going to get Levon to help me; James said he’d talk to him. Where’s Al? Put him on the phone.”

She was exhausting me; it was too early in the morning for all of this. She’d just suggested Levon had something to do with the disappearance and here she was, volunteering his help. It’d already been about a week since Kiara’s disappearance and I had to wonder what Madison had been doing in the meantime that made her wait until now to have this sense of emergency.

“Al’s busy but I’ll have him call you after.”

I wanted to ask her if maybe Kiara had thrown herself off the rocks since that would make the most sense and would not waste the police's valuable resources. They weren’t going to find her where she was, and no one would believe me if I told them.

I had inside information, thanks to my angry new friend, but I wasn’t going to offer the news that Kiara was perfectly fine and supposedly hanging out in a parallel universe. And I didn’t know for sure if it was an actual place though I suspected it was. It had to be; there was no other explanation.

It occurred to me that I could again ask Stefan about what had happened but with his animosity, it didn’t seem wise. I knew he knew a lot more than he’d admitted. He hadn’t outright told me Kiara was there, but I knew despite his word games .

Al was somewhere behind me, moving around and speaking to someone on his phone. After hanging up with Madison, I got up and showered, getting ready for the day, before I made him some breakfast. I included a slice of my green bean bread which he poked at with a fork as if it scared him, flipping it over, and then back again, suspicion covering his gaze before he cut into it.

“It's really not bad,” I told him. “Try it.”

He pressed his lips together and knocked the piece off his fork with a knife, wincing when a crumb fell into his scrambled eggs. “No, thanks.”

I shrugged and snatched the remainder from his plate, slathering butter across the top. All I could taste was cinnamon. It wasn’t even that green; it could’ve been any flavor. Maybe I’d make green apple bread next?

“What are you doing today?” I asked, instead of arguing over my baking.

Al stood up, scraping the remains of his breakfast into the trash can beside the sink. “I have to go into the office for a bit. The guys are still ironing out the details of the merger. It's a sure thing, just some lose ends. We’re meeting at the club tonight; I’ll send a car for you.”

“A bit”? What was he doing between then and the club that he wouldn’t come home? Maybe I should’ve gone with Madison. "Okay,” I said, rather than voicing my suspicions.

Al slid his arms into his suit jacket, his wiry hair snagging on the collar. Then he gathered his bag and phone, curling his lips into a faint smile he directed my way. “See you tonight,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. I watched him stroll out the door and heard the faint echo of his key fob chiming when he unlocked his car.

With my boyfriend gone, I turned on meditation music I’d found that came to the closest match of what I’d heard at Stefan’s and got my baking stuff out. Rummaging through the cabinets didn’t inspire the creativity that I normally found so I just played with different cans of vegetables, waiting for something to strike me as a great idea.

After I settled on peas and carrots and poured the batter the batter I’d made into bread pans, I began my usual routine of cleaning the house. Glancing at the oven when the timer went off, I surprised myself by realizing I was the epitome of a bored housewife minus a sexy pool boy or hot UPS driver.

The restless feeling settled in my stomach, a pressing ache that wouldn’t go away even when I tried to do what I hoped was yoga. Bending myself in different directions didn’t do anything other than make me feel old when my knee twinged. It was ridiculous; everything was fine until my friends and I went out that night and drank like fools in a deserted building.

Everything was fine until Stefan miraculously noticed me and captured me with his firefly eyes. I could’ve gone on pretending Al and Madison didn’t bother me if it wasn’t for any of that.

I couldn’t even dissociate properly anymore, never mind stretch or bake bread. Everything I tried not to think about was bearing down on me and it wouldn’t go away.

If I didn’t have to think about things, they didn’t exist. If I closed myself off, nothing could get to me. It was much safer than hoping for things that would never happen in this lifetime.

Just then, I saw the windows could use a good washing. Some of Al’s friends smoked cigars in the living room once in a while, resulting in the faint blemishes currently highlighted by beams of sunlight. Standing on the top step of the four-foot ladder I’d grabbed to wipe away the smog wasn’t high enough for my five-foot-three-inch frame. Some of the windows would have to stay foggy. The panes of glass must’ve been at least fifteen feet tall. I lifted the ladder and moved on to the next set of windows and wiped away everything within reach that was wrong.

Run out of things to do, I settled on the couch with a slice of pea and carrot bread and a bag of dried banana chips and waited for Al to get home before I remembered he wasn't.

He wasn’t coming home, I had to go to him.

Once I was dropped off at the casino, I made my way inside while texting Madison. True to form, she met me halfway. “Cute dress,” she said quickly, complimenting me on my steel-gray strapless outfit.

She had her bright blonde hair piled atop her head, as usual, little golden coils curling and fluttering around her face as she chattered and gesticulated. She was tall, tan, lithe, and gorgeous, the focal point of any gathering with her perpetually sunny disposition and easy laugh combined with her super-model good looks.

She was my opposite in many ways. My stick-straight hair was so dark it was almost black, my skin pale, and my body average. I wasn’t fit and lean, or skinny, or even full-figured. My exterior displayed my inner—nothing of note.

From what I’d gathered listening to the ensuing monologue, her impromptu visit to grill the authorities over our friend’s disappearance had been barely tolerated by the police, although I doubt she’d noticed their annoyance. They’d given her the standard “we’re doing everything we can” line, and she’d tacked up Missing Person flyers wherever she could around the city. Hypocritically, I thanked her for her efforts while my thoughts wandered to a mysterious man and what he may know. I suspected it was wrong not to open my mouth but then again, she was hiding things from me.

It was normal to keep things to yourself to preserve relationships and it wouldn’t do any good to stress her out more than she already was with fantastical theories.

The urge to voice my concerns and possible knowledge kept welling up inside. If I said anything, what if I was wrong? What if I provided false hope? I learned long ago my voice didn’t matter. Nobody truly cared what I had to say, and I was a hinderance more than some help. I stuck to my guns because speaking up would most likely just cause problems.

Al, James, and their friends were transfixed, watching a sport on some television screens where the men were beating each other up playing an extra-violent version of hockey called bandy. I tucked myself into a seat next to Al as James winked at me.

“What’s that look for?” James asked, wrinkling his nose at me. Was he winking because he knew something? He did seem perfectly at ease with Al and Madison’s constant flirting.

I ignored him and Al tossed me a quick glance before rising from his seat in excitement, pumping his fist in the air while his knees knocked into the table. Everyone started yelling before cheers were hollered out along with some overly vocal groans of defeat.

My boyfriend lowered himself back down, grabbing my hand and squeezing it as banded stacks of money were tossed to the center of the table. One man, wearing too many thick gold chains around his neck to be fashionable, lit a cigar while Al’s overly long pinky nail scratched my thigh.

Straightening up in my seat, I leaned forward when a glass of red wine was deposited in front of me. Madison sent me a questioning look because I rarely drank, and I shrugged my shoulders. Her inquiry was rapidly diverted by a stocky man tapping her on the shoulder.

“Mister Hamburger,” she said excitedly. The man bent down and mumbled something I couldn’t catch over the rest of the noise. “She’s gone, she’s missing,” Madison said.

The man leaned toward her again. “I will,” she said. “Let me know if you see her, please?” she pleaded with the man, her eyes wide. He tilted back down to speak in her ear a final time before leaving.

Someone brought out a metal box and the stacks of money were tucked inside as James leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Who was that?” I asked Madison.

Her eyes sparkled. “He’s now Hamburger Helper.” She giggled. “He’s gonna look for Kiara, too.”

The moniker was ridiculous. “That’s nice of him.”

She picked up her cranberry vodka and took a sip, wiping the table with her hand before grabbing a coaster for her glass. “We met him here last week. Or the week before? A few weeks ago?” She shook her head at her own forgetfulness, and I nodded.

“He liked Kiara,” she offered as explanation for him stopping by. “He said something about hamburg when we met him, so...” She trailed off.

James and Al stood up and left the table, moving further into the club while the screens changed to dog racing. “I thought that was illegal now?” I asked my friend, gesturing to one of the monitors.

Madison raised her eyebrows. “I have no idea. Maybe not here? Seems cruel.”

It wasn’t as if anyone around us would care so I dropped it. If it was outlawed, neither of us would be able to change anything, we’d be laughed out of the club. People seemed to do whatever they wanted here at the casino, as if the place had its own set of rules. It was a whole, other world.

“Since when do you care?” Madison snarked, seemingly out of nowhere.

Her tone forced me to whip my head around, the spite in her voice so uncharacteristic. My stomach sank and I took a quick sip of my wine. “What do you mean?” I asked, carefully.

“I mean...Never mind. I’m just really broken up about Kiara and you’re out here acting like nothing happened, like this is totally normal. Don’t you care?”

I did. I cared a lot. The wine in my belly felt as if it were congealing. “I do care. I miss her, too. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it, it won’t change a thing.” I replied quietly.

“Your feelings matter.” Madison’s face softened a little.

Not really, they didn’t. They didn’t matter to anyone but me because nobody cared how I felt; they never did. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d asked me how I was, or anything about my life.

“Maybe she’ll turn up? Sometimes people do,” I said. It was odd she suddenly mentioned my feelings when she seemed to think so little about them in general.

Madison’s shoulders slumped. I’d been toying with the idea of digging tonight for information about her and Al, the nature of their relationship and decided not to. It wasn’t a good time for that discussion.

“I just miss her and her craziness,” Madison’s eyes watered and she sat up, thrusting her shoulders back and flicking away her tears. “Maybe you’re right, being sad won’t change a thing.”

I wanted to tell her not to be like me, to keep crying so I could experience it through her. If I started, I feared I’d never stop. One of us had to let it out.

“I’m going to go find the boys. It's time to get this party started and I want to dance.” She sprung up from her seat and grabbed her cup, swallowing the contents before slamming it down on the coaster. Madison turned and left, swaying her hips on a mission.

Dancing wasn’t for me, I rarely participated. I was happy to watch her and Kiara in the crowds laughing and flirting as they goofed around under the flashing lights. It was almost as if time had stood still, and they’d thought they were still club kids. I remembered the days when we were younger, before we had solid relationships with the opposite sex and going out had been a nearly every night excursion. Back then, I hadn’t really danced, either. Nights out had lessened in frequency under the burden of adult life, but they’d both shed those responsibilities again whenever we arrived here.

“Mabel,” a voice behind my head drawled before a body slid into a seat beside me. “Don’t you ever dance?”

It was the odd blond, the man who rarely spoke to us and who sat on the sidelines, Julian. I shook my head; he knew I didn’t go out onto the dance floor often.

“I can’t hide this feeling with my China girl,” the man sang softly. Just then, an old David Bowie song started playing over the music system.

“Who are you?” I knew, but I wanted to put him off.

He held out a hand. “Julian, my dear. Your hair is beautiful.”

Shaking his hand, I replied, “Thank you.” He’d called me “China girl” in reference to my hair and the music, I realized. My skin turned clammy in his grasp, and I wiped my palm on the skirt of my dress when he finally released me.

“Do you feel like you are missing something?” His bright blue eyes glittered with amusement.

I shook my head, not understanding what he was trying to say.

Julian clicked his tongue in my ear, and I cringed at the crawling sensation that skittered up my neck. This guy was seriously disturbed, invading my personal space and being intentionally vague.

“There’s a storm brewing, I hear your heart beating. I have a plan for everyone,” Julian’s voice turned juvenile as he sung song lyrics in my ear.

Finally, I said, “Do you mind?” The man took a long whiff of my neck and I thrust my arm out, shoving him away. He laughed.

Julian covered his eyes with his hands and then whipped them open. “I see you!” he said. He then stood up before twirling with a flourish, bowing with one arm across his midsection, and vanished into the crowd.

The universe was out to get me. There was bad weather brewing, as Julian so helpfully sang to me, only the storm was in my chest and born out of anger. Rubbing my temples, I tried to get my pulse under some semblance of control. Between Madison, Stefan, Kiara, and now Julian, my last thread was being slowly unraveled.

As if the very thought had conjured him, I spotted Stefan moving through the crowd, parting the dance floor as he got closer to me. He was dressed more casually than I was used to, merely a blue button-up shirt without a tie or vest, and black dress pants.

The top three buttons of his shirt were open, teasing me with a sliver of his chest. Whatever he wore, he always looked better than what I was comfortable with. The feelings he inspired within me were unwelcome as I was in a relationship and Stefan held a blatant dislike of me.

Or so he claimed.

He held me in place with his gaze as he stalked forward, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. His eyes drifted over me, taking me in an inch at a time. Emotions crashed through me, ripping through my crumbling fortifications and I felt panic beginning to build at the base of my throat. It was all I could do to tear my eyes off him before the heat of his focus forced them back up. When he stood beside me, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I thought I told you to stay away.”

“Not from here, you didn’t.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” He said and scowled. I blinked. “What did Julian want?” he asked.

Brushing aside his question, I asked, “Can you take me there? Please? I don’t want to be here.” My heart began pounding in my chest; I had just exposed myself. I’d transferred my power over to this rude man without a second thought by asking for a favor. My blood rushed in my ears and my hand trembled as I swallowed, trying to force the sensations down.

Stefan slowly sank down on the seat beside me, and asked, “How about you start being honest with me?” He lifted a hand in the air and a waitress came over. He ordered a drink, and the server brought it back faster than I’d have thought possible. He took a sip of the clear beverage as he eyed me, waiting for me to answer.

He was a hard man to figure out. He didn’t believe me when I told him I had no idea how I’d ended up in his house or church, and he kept accusing me of holding back knowledge. It made no sense he didn’t believe me when he must’ve seen how there was no pattern to it. Granted, it’d only happened twice, but how does one purposely end up in some parallel universe—if that was really what it was to begin with? I still couldn’t decide, and I just knew I was done with being here and wanted to be there.

Picking up my glass of wine, I twirled the stem gently. “I’ve been honest with you.”

“That’s one person you’ve been truthful with,” he remarked, his eyes glittering.

I glared at him. “If you knew I was, then why harass me?”

Stefan smirked. “I love it when you get feisty.” The sarcastic expression transformed into a genuine smile, surprising me. “There’s a whole side of you that you hide.”

“Why are you always messing with me?”

Stefan leaned in a fraction closer. “I could ask you the same.”

I felt my cheeks flush. He glanced down at my lips before slowly dragging his gaze back to mine. An urge to hide from him rippled through me when he reached out and brushed a thumb over my mouth. It was just the briefest touch, but it felt like so much more with the way it lit me up inside.

My eyes fluttered closed for a second when his finger then tugged my lip, and I sucked in a breath. He was watching me carefully, seeming to not take in any oxygen, nor make any sudden moves for fear I would flee. My tongue brushed the tip, and he pulled the digit back. “Mabel,” he moaned my name in warning. “Be careful.”

I was in danger of many things; things I told myself I didn’t want to be any part of. Stefan was a stranger in many ways although I’d been very aware of his existence and here I was, letting him touch me intimately. I was sharing parts of myself I didn’t share with anyone else. My behavior didn’t make any sense to me and yet I couldn’t stop myself, I’d spiraled out of control. The mixed signals he sent were driving me over the edge.

Stefan held himself apart from others, much as I always had, a one-man island. He seemed to prefer lurking in the corners, hiding in the shadows and he dressed to match, his gaze drifting over anyone who’d dare to enter his self-imposed solitary sphere.

I never saw him spend more than two seconds of his time with any of the other men. They were clearly all acquainted with one another yet behaved more like sentinels, guarding the activity around them without mingling with us commoners. Until recently.

“Careful of what?” I whispered. My head was buzzing, and my cheeks felt like they were burning.

He snickered and said, “Me.”

My hands slid to my lap, and I began picking at a nail where the polish was flaking.

“You didn’t answer me, before,” I mumbled.

Stefan leaned into me, the linen of his shirt brushing my bare shoulder. His body heat pulsed through the fabric, and I wondered what his shoulder would feel like under my touch. Would it be soft and smooth? Would it feel like velvet? I wanted to trace the lines of his tattoos, the ones I saw peeking around his collar and find out where they led.

“I’ve made the answer extraordinarily clear; I believe.”

When I turned my head, his face was inches from my own. If either of us moved, our faces would touch. “Why don’t you want me there?”

For a moment, he looked as if he were daydreaming. “You’re not welcome there.”

The softly spoken words drove a knife through my chest and I shut my eyes as I tried to breathe normally.

Stefan’s fingers gripped my chin lightly and he urged me closer. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, my lids still firmly shut.

He slid his hands around my waist, dragging them to where my dress dipped in the back to explore my skin before he bent his head, thrusting his tongue between my parted lips. His grip shifted downward to rest right above my hipbones, squeezing my flesh while we tasted each other in an exhilarating rush.

As I clutched his shirt, I felt every demand he’d ever made of me while he owned me with his mouth, heard every unspoken promise as his lips slid against mine. The taste of him filled me with visions of smoke and shadows while his hands left burning trails across my body. My thighs pressed together as I tried to keep some semblance of control and not climb on to his lap.

His hair was just as soft as I’d imagined when I threaded my fingers through the strands at the nape of his neck. I’d only been fantasizing about it for months, how silky it would feel against my cheek and brushing my forehead and it was precisely as I’d imagined.

When Stefan pulled out of my mouth, he ran his tongue up the side of my neck, alternating between biting and sucking, leaving me a whimpering mess. I was getting high off his ministrations, lost beneath his masterful touch in a world with just the two of us where nothing mattered other than leaving myself in his very capable hands.

As quickly as he’d devoured me, he let go, his eyes full of glowing flames while he licked his bottom lip. Movement in my peripheral vision drew me away to see Al and James walking back and the area around our table now mysteriously empty. They stopped to chat with someone in their path, giving us just seconds more time. My heart sank, knowing it was over and sensing Stefan would leave.

“I can’t stop myself; you know. I just show up there,” I stated, continuing what we’d been discussing.

His eyes continued to burn into me, anger and desire wrapped up together in his gaze. My boyfriend and Madison’s stayed where they were, appearing to yell to each other over the music although I couldn’t hear a word of their conversation.

Stefan got up from his seat and I felt the tension radiating from him. Following his eyes, I spotted the man I’d seen with friend Kiara a few times approaching us. Levon’s appearance was unlike how I’d ever seen him before, his clothes wrinkled and dirty.

When he got closer, I thought I spied blood on his hand. He noticed my fixation and made quick use of his cargo pants’ pockets, but not before glowering at me with a force that should’ve buried me under the club’s marble flooring. He must have been used to people bowing before him and looking away, which I didn’t do.

For someone who consistently told me they didn’t want me around, the sound that emanated from Stefan’s throat clearly indicated he didn’t want me around anyone else in his circle either. He moved to stand in the way, blocking me in.

“Say one word and I’ll stab you in the throat,” Levon warned my self-appointed bodyguard, glancing at a clump of something on his sleeve.

“Ilya,” Stefan said, gesturing toward his friend and ignoring the order about his appearance. “What happened to you? And I require the same from you.”

Ilya? My curiosity overtook me, and I attempted to shut out the sounds around me to focus on the two men.

“She fled, as you know. I had to intervene.”

“That’s not human or one of us,” Stefan said, nodding at the mess on his friend’s arm. “Let it go.” Stefan’s voice was softer than I’d heard it before, indicating he cared for the man in front of him. My belly ached again and my eyes smarted, listening to his tone. I couldn’t figure out what they were talking about.

Levon-Ilya lifted a hand and ran it through his hair exposing a deep red streak across his knuckles that was highlighted under the ceiling lights. Dried blood, it looked like. “I won’t,” he said. “I can’t. You sound like my father.”

Stefan reached for his drink and took a sip before placing it back on the table. “Where is she now?”

“With him. At one of his fucking dinner parties.” Levon-Ilya's eyes burned an orange-red, brighter than I’d ever seen on either of the two men. I must’ve made a noise because he suddenly swung them in my direction before returning to Stefan. “Care to share supper?”

A chill ran down my spine at the coldness in his voice. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought I was on the menu.

“Lay a hand or any other parts of yourself on her and you’ll face my wrath. She’s mine.”

A cruel smile broke out across Stefan’s friend’s face. “I have the feeling you’ll start understanding me now, sooner rather than later.” The man glanced at me, dragging his eyes across me slowly, seeming to take me in as if he were using a magnifying glass. Curiosity and an uncomfortable hunger colored his features.

He turned to leave but Stefan caught his arm. “Ilya, this is serious. She caught Julian’s attention.”

Ilya, as I decided to call him due to Stefan’s use of the name, stilled. His olive skin paled slightly, and he glanced back down at me before nodding.

When he turned to leave, he headed in the direction of the exit, and I followed his progress until I couldn’t see the man anymore.

“Don’t come back to this casino,” Stefan said, grabbing my arm roughly.

I wrenched my limb back. “What is going on? Is he Levon or is he Ilya? What’s with the eye thing?”

This time, he was gentler when he grasped me. He was still firm, but I wasn’t in fear I’d lose a limb. “You need to go home.”

“Not until you answer me. He was talking about Kiara, wasn’t he? I know you know something.” I really needed to get back to the dream place and find Kiara. She was clearly in some kind of trouble. I’d do it with or without Stefan’s help.

“He was. What did Julian say to you?”

I was pinned against the table, held in place by Stefan’s intimidating stance. “He just said some strange things about me being Chinese or something. He was singing.” His eyes shuttered and I suspected he rolled them behind his closed lids. “He asked if I was missing something.”

Stefan’s chest rose and fell before he spoke. “What else?”

“That’s...that’s it,” I stuttered. Different emotions ran through me, the feelings I’d shoved down since I was a kid. I’d never been enough for any family, never acted right, wanted too much. My current interrogation dug up the sensation of worthlessness, my lack of being what I should’ve been. Someone like Julian—clearly higher class than me if he was as important as implied, had been wasting his time in my presence. I’d screwed up. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my head.

“I think he just wanted to say hello,” I offered, not knowing what else to say. Self-consciousness washed over me. I’d asked Stefan too many questions and I was thrown back to my childhood directives to be seen and not heard, sit still and be peaceful and beautiful. Don’t ask for anything, be grateful you’re provided for. Don’t cause trouble. The childhood messages played on an eternal loop in the back of my mind, and I knew I shouldn’t listen to them. The thing was, they kept me safe.

He snatched my hand. “I’m bringing you home, you can’t stay here.”

“What? No. What about my friends? Al?”

He scoffed. “I’m sure Al will be just fine.”

Stefan began dragging me through the crowd, in the direction of the exit. “Stop, I’m okay.” I tried to pull away. “Let me tell them I’m leaving.”

He didn’t let go. “I’ll take care of it.”

I was making a scene, and I didn’t like it. Immediately, I stopped fighting him and drawing attention. If Madison saw me being manhandled, she’d lose it and I couldn’t do that to her. Everything was fine, he was just bringing me home.

Stefan pulled a cellphone from his pocket and punched at the screen before lifting it to his ear. “Where’s your car?” I heard him ask whoever was on the other end. “I’m bringing her home. Okay. Okay.” He slid the phone back.

“You don’t have a car?” I asked. How did he get here?

“No. I’m borrowing one.”

“How did you get here?” My reluctance to ask questions momentarily disappeared as he led me to a bank of elevators.

We stepped inside a lift covered with mirrors. Stefan eyed me in the reflection, and I tried to read him, guess what he was thinking, but I couldn’t. His skin was lighter than his friend’s and yet he was still darker.

The air around him held a weight of determination and domination. The brightly lit interior of the elevator had almost seemed to dim when he’d stepped inside as if he were a cloud blocking the sunlight.

My hand remained tightly in his clasp. “Have you felt any different since communion?” He looked smug, like there was a secret only he knew.

“I don’t believe in religion.”

“You don’t feel closer to God?”

I sighed. “I don’t believe in the whole ‘this is my body’ and ‘this is my blood’ thing. It's just wine and bread.”

The corner of his mouth tilted. “What if the blood believes in you?”

There was no way to answer that, so I went back to watching his stare in the mirror and pondered the strange questions. He didn’t seem very pastoral to me, everything about him screamed transgression, as if he consciously led others to damnation in his spare time. He oozed anger, lust, and a suggestion of violence. My short visit to his church had ended with a tiny snack that wouldn’t have satisfied a toddler.

“Maybe you need to give your congregation larger portions?”

Stefan’s eyes widened for a moment and then he laughed. He laughed hard enough to let go of my hand while I watched his shoulders convulse. He’d almost seemed like a normal man for a few fleeting seconds. Then the lift stopped, and the doors parted, and he was back to his signature brooding.

The elevator opened to a pristine underground garage, walls and floor coated in a sleek black finish with recessed lighting fixed overhead. He took my hand in his and we stopped next to a German sports car—also black.

“Get in,” he ordered, after opening the door for me.

Tucking my skirt, I hopped inside. We rode in silence until I realized he somehow knew where I lived, following the exact path to get there. “How did you know where I live?"

“I didn’t; Ilya told me.”

My head buzzed. “How did he know?”

His lips pressed into a line. “It's better if I don’t tell you.”

“What can you tell me?” I watched late-night drunken stragglers laughing their way down the sidewalk as we passed through downtown, the sight reminding me of Kiara and Madison, and looked away.

Stefan glanced at me before returning his gaze to the road. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“That’s not true,” I said quietly. “Do you know how hard this is for me?”

He glanced at me again and my breath caught in my throat. He didn’t answer me, but he didn’t have to. The look of longing in his eyes told me this was all just as hard for him. He wanted to tell me, but he wouldn’t.

He kept me in the dark continuously, pushing back at every question I asked while pretending not to care. Things were happening that involved my friends and I, and no one would tell me anything. My limits were being pushed.

People disappeared, men’s eyes glowed, I kept waking up somewhere else, there was glittery snow that supposedly almost froze me to death, and my boyfriend was probably cheating on me. To top it off, I was sitting next to a man that so very obviously had feelings for me, but he wouldn’t act on them the way I wanted him to.

My walls were slowly coming down, everything was different, and it terrified me. There was no way I wouldn’t get hurt and it was all happening too fast.

Stefan pulled up to the curb and I let myself out of the vehicle. Before closing the door, I thanked him dismissively, but he got out and walked around the car anyway. Without saying a word, he walked me to the front door, his gaze scanning the property.

“The motion sensor lights will come on in a moment,” I offered, helpfully.

“I don’t need them.”

He looked over my shoulder as I faced him. “Thank you,” I repeated, again. He stood unmoving. “Um. Thanks?”

“Open the door.”

I scratched my head and then punched in the security code before walking inside. “Don’t you need to leave?” I asked, placing my purse on the side table in the entryway.

“Yes,” he said, brushing past me.

My heels clicked on the flooring as I followed him. He stood in the living room, examining everything around him. Silently, I trailed after him while he perused every room in the same manner. Satisfied with the interior, he opened the back door and stepped onto the patio and completed the same actions, looking everything over like there was a sniper hidden somewhere.

Again, I followed him while he finished and until finally, he returned to the front door. “What was all that about?” I asked.

“I’ve never been here before,” he said.

Normal people didn’t treat others’ homes like a police investigation or a crime scene, but I kept my thoughts about that to myself.

Stefan stepped closer to me, keeping one hand on the doorknob. He lifted his other hand to my chin, and like earlier, brushed a finger against my bottom lip. Affection filled me, pooling in my lower belly and I held my breath. His eyes glowed lightly while his thumb caressed me, and it seemed he’d stopped inhaling as well. He dropped his arm to my waist and switched his touch to my back, smoothing my skin. My heart pounded furiously in my chest, waiting for whatever he'd do next.

Abruptly, he let go. “Do not go back to the casino and do not go back to my home,” he said roughly. I backed away under the force of his voice. “Stay away from me, Mabel.” He pulled the door open.

“How can I when you keep showing up wherever I am?” I asked and then shrank back as he moved. I needed to stop expecting things from him, stop asking him questions.

He’d stepped out of the doorway and was now mostly wreathed in shadows, with one of the front path’s lights beaming against the side of his face. “What will it take to get rid of you?” He bit out and spun on his heel.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the edge of the door, and slammed it shut.