Beneath the Watching

27. Mabel

27

MABEL

Stefan said for us to wait, but I didn’t. The chaos allowed me to trail after Stefan as Benjamin and Jack were distracted by other guards striding up to our doorway. Stefan glanced at me, a flicker of annoyance briefly covering his eyes. He saw the determination in my gaze and didn’t say a word.

We followed the corridor until we reached the main hall. People were streaming out of the castle, hustling each other through the exit. The air turned gritty and a faint burning smell entered the air. Stefan stiffened and grabbed my upper arm, pulling me through the people, against the tide.

“I want to tell you to get out of here but there’s nowhere safer than with me. Promise me you’ll listen,” he kept his voice low beside my ear.

“I will,” I said.

Tugging me down another hallway, he said, “Ilya’s down this way, his rooms.”

Smoke began thickening in the distance and more people trickled past us, some waving a hand in front of their faces. A man stopped us short. “You can’t go down there, smoke’s too thick,” he informed Stefan.

“What’s going on? What’s on fire?” Stefan gripped the man’s shoulder.

“The prince’s chambers,” The man muttered, shaking his head before he left us.

Stefan turned to me, “I’m going down there, wait here.”

“No,” I retorted.

He turned and glared at me, “Wait here. I can’t worry about both of you.”

“No,” I repeated as his eyes widened. He glared at me and began walking away.

“Clear the air,” I said, hoping I’d translated the Sentient correctly.

The air cleared and Stefan halted his steps, his head twisting right and left. “Go,” I said, coming up alongside him.

He cast another glance at me and hurried his pace. We arrived at a crossroads and turned down another hall, the smoke billowing away from us as we went. Finally, we came to a set of doors.

“Back up,” Stefan ordered. He gripped the door handle after I moved to the side and opened it, keeping himself behind the wooden panel.

A rush of air and heat flew through the opening and Stefan crouched down as I flattened myself to the wall, out of the way. When the rush dissipated slightly, I lowered myself to peek inside.

Flames licked one entire side of the apartment and smoke was billowing out a window. Stefan rushed past me, and I saw Ilya on the floor, blood surrounding him. He gripped Ilya under his shoulders and began dragging him to safety.

“Clear the air,” I spoke aloud, again. The smoke obeyed, changing direction, and fleeing through the broken windows.

“Put out the fire,” I said tentatively, unsure if whatever this was would go so far as to be able to stop the terrible destruction.

The fire abated, snuffing itself out and leaving tiny wisps of smoke floating out the windows.

“What the fuck, Mabel,” Ilya groaned, twisting out of Stefan’s arms.

Stefan dropped to sit on the floor, staring at me in amazement. I shrugged and he looked away. “What happened?” He placed a hand on Ilya.

Ilya lifted his head and that’s when I saw it. The side of his face was flayed open, temple to jawbone. Blood poured out, running thickly down his neck. He held a hand up to the wound hesitantly, his eyes shutting for a second, and the bleeding stopped, leaving the flesh still separated.

“Kiara,” Ilya replied.

Drawing in a deep breath, I asked, “What did you do to her?”

He sneered at me and then restrained himself, hanging his head. “Nothing I didn’t deserve,” he said quietly.

Stefan tilted his head at me, sending me a look of warning. “Where is she?” I asked.

Ilya stood up and ignored my plea. “I’m going to the infirmary,” he said.

We listened to him groan and he stopped by the open doors before facing us. “Stefan,” he gestured vaguely, “take care of this.” He walked away, a broken man.

“When were you planning on enlightening me?” Stefan gave me a pointed look.

I defended myself. “I didn’t know if I’d interpreted it correctly. Remember I told you ‘Ask and you shall receive’? I guess it was literal?”

He looked thoughtful. “I guess. Be careful with that.”

I grinned at him, and he returned the smile. “It came in handy.” I said, pointedly.

This new benefit of the voice in my head astounded me. I wasn’t certain what to think of it and I was tempted to see what else it could do. I tried lighting a candle but nothing happened.

That was okay because playing with flames right now probably wasn’t the best experiment.

As you grew, so your magic grew.

I smiled to myself. Opening up to those around me, people who cared, welcomed me to a whole new world of possibilities. Things like bake shops—when I never would’ve been brave enough, before.

Stefan led us down a staircase and then along a walkway that took us to an infirmary. We found Ilya sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette. “I’d have let you get me a chair but...” He began to smile at his own joke but then winced.

“Thats only in public, scar-face,” Stefan shot back. Briefly, I remembered him always dragging chairs to for people to sit on when we’d all be at the casino.

Ilya smirked. “I look like an asshole,” he muttered, holding a small mirror near his face, and tucking an errant strand of hair away from his face.

From what I knew of him, he was obsessed with his appearance. He was a good-looking man and took advantage of the fact at every opportunity. His image was carefully curated and being the bearer of a huge gash on the side of his face must’ve been quite the blow.

Once, I watched him berate a maid over wrinkled dry cleaning. His clothing was always immaculate, and he never shied away from a reflective surface. It was all about image, with him.

“Just be a sexy pirate,” I commented. “There’s girls who love that look.”

Stefan whirled around, placing his hands on either side of my neck. “Do not ever say ‘Ilya’ and ‘sexy’ in the same sentence again,” he ordered. I glanced at Ilya, trying not to laugh.

“It's inevitable, quit while you’re ahead,” Ilya goaded him. I watched as Stefan’s eyes shuttered, but he kept his mouth shut.

A nurse, or healer as they were called here, walked in with a small canvas pouch, and handed it to our injured friend.

“This will help with the scarring but I’m afraid, as you know, the blade was spelled. There will be permanent effects.” She gave him a sympathetic look and nodded at Stefan and I before taking her leave.

“Spelled blade?” I asked, peering between the two men.

Ilya pressed his lips together. “Yes.”

“How does that happen?” I stared at him.

Ilya looked at Stefan, as if asking for permission to talk to me. Something unspoken passed between the two of them before Ilya answered me, “You know she’s a very powerful witch, the strongest I’ve ever heard of or met. I know you know what effect magic has on creatures like me, or even Stefan.”

My eyes slid to the man by my side. I didn’t miss Ilya’s subtle reference to Stefan’s lack of full demon blood. I knew demons fed on people’s energy; Stefan had done that with me several times. It was barely perceptible when it occurred and not a big part of our lives. As he’d told me, he retrieved what he needed from the air around us.

“Are you saying she overpowered you?” I asked carefully.

Ilya’s eyes burned brightly with anger for a moment before he answered. “I’m saying your friend possesses powerful, injurious magic.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him she was obviously stronger than him but I kept my mouth shut. With everything I’d heard about Ramone wanting to feed on Kiara and drain her magic, it didn’t take long for me to figure out how Ilya ended up taking a knife to the face.

Anyone with a brain could see Kiara wilting away—exercise regime or not.

“I’m going to go find her,” I announced. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

Stefan grabbed my upper arm as I turned to walk away. “No, wait. I’ll send someone with you.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” I stated, wrenching my arm away.

He moved to block my exit. “You can’t be wandering around by yourself, just hang on a minute.”

“How did bullying work out for Ilya?” I snapped at him. Bullying was probably the wrong term, but it was clear to me that I could do this on my own. “I’ve handled a crazy lady in the woods, that guy, Josiah...”

Crap.

He wasn’t supposed to be mentioned.

Unease ran through me, and shame trickled through my blood. If I couldn’t even keep my mouth shut, how was I supposed to get anything else done? When push came to shove, I’d already screwed up and mentioned something I’d been explicably told not to.

Ilya darted a quick look at Stefan who shook his head. “Don’t ask,” he snapped at his friend.

Steeling my spine and taking a deep breath, I announced, “I’m going.”

I didn’t wait to see what Stefan would do and walked out.