Beneath the Watching

32. Mabel

32

MABEL

Lucian’s leering face grinned down at me while I continued trying to fight him off. He was so much larger than me, so much stronger, that I was losing the battle rapidly. His free hand went to his waist, and he tugged his pants down slightly for better access.

“Why are you doing this?” I cried. “I was your daughter’s best friend.”

Gripping me by the throat while holding my head down, he stated, “If I claim you, as king I will keep you. It’ll be my duty to assure you use your magic as I see fit.” He laughed. “And there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it.”

My blood was thundering in my ears as I started to scream for Benjamin and Jack. Lucian slapped the front of my face, his hand whipping me so hard I heard the sound before I felt the pain. He then cupped a palm over my lips.

I was running out of oxygen quickly, tears running down my face and my nose watering so badly the air couldn’t reach my lungs. My legs were banging against his as I tried to shove my knees up to push him off.

Finally, my aim hit the mark, smacking him in the groin and I got some leverage. Rolling halfway over, I was able to grab one of the table’s legs and pull myself farther away. Just as I was attempting to get up, Lucian grabbed my ankle and dragged me backwards before throwing himself against my back.

My cheekbone ached from the impact with the hard flooring. I must've bitten my tongue or the inside of my mouth, all I could taste was blood. Squeezing my eyes shut, I prepared to give in to the inevitable.

The all-too-familiar dissociation I used to indulge in began to wash over me, soothing me with its welcome embrace. The numbness started spreading comfortably, traveling from limb to limb before quieting my terror. I remembered the music I’d heard a few times before in my head here in Stefan’s home and wished for it to come back so I could drift along with the pretty melody.

Suddenly, with my mind clearing of panic, I remembered.

“Cake knife,” I whispered.

Lucian was pulling my pants down past my rear and his other hand gripped my inner thigh. As his hand wandered to my center, the requested blade materialized in my hand. He was suspended over me, the fabric of his shirt dragging against my nose, while he shoved the crotch of my panties to the side.

I took a deep breath and plunged the blade into his neck.

At the same time as a gurgled roar ripped through his mouth, the kitchen door banged open. Sticky fluid was washing over me, falling on the face and my neck. Lucian’s arm gave out and he landed on top of me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

The body was yanked away, and Stefan pulled me from the floor. Vaguely, I was aware of another presence in the room but all I could think about was red. Everything was red. My hands, my chest, my belly. I could feel it all over my skin, the blood.

“Holy shit,” a voice muttered.

Stefan lifted me from the floor and covered me with his suit jacket before he took me into the bathroom. He set me on the counter while I stayed clinging to him as he gently lifted the edges of my clothing, searching. “Did he touch you?” he growled.

“He tried,” I answered, my voice cracking. Voices could be heard in the background, low and insistent. “I need to shower.”

Keeping a firm grip on Stefan’s biceps, I glanced down. Blood was already beginning to dry on my skin and the compulsion to remove the evidence of my attempted violation couldn’t be denied. It had to go.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes. Do not open this door for anyone but me. If anyone else comes in—yell for me immediately.”

He helped me off the counter and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature settings before exiting. Stripping the soiled clothing from my skin, I decided then and there I would burn them.

Carefully, I lowered myself to the floor of the shower, letting the water pour over me. The words “holy shit” kept repeating through my mind while I tried to calm myself, tried to think.

Had I killed Lucian? When Stefan said not to open the door for anyone but him, I realized I may not have. He’d torn me away before I could even look at the man. I’d never killed anything before, other than some annoying flies, and the thought that I may have taken someone’s life sent a shudder through me.

Pulling myself up off the floor, I tried to wash away the feel of the king’s hands on me. The warm water pounded my face for what felt like hours, but I could still feel his lips rubbing against my own.

The bathroom door opened, startling me, as Stefan walked in. He closed the door and set a pile of clothes down by the sink. Shutting the water off, I stepped out and took the offered towel before resting my head against his chest and letting his presence soothe me.

After a minute, he nudged my chin up. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “Can you ever forgive me? I should’ve been here for you.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “It's not your fault.”

“I should’ve known he’d try something like this.” He growled, “I didn’t think he’d touch anything that was mine.” He took the edge of my towel and slid it away before he knelt and began drying me off.

Water dripped from my hair, landing on his shirt and I reached to the side for another. “Did I...Is he dead?” I stuttered, squeezing my soaked strands in the cloth.

Stefan stood up straight. “He’s dead; as he should be. I only wish it’d been my blade.”

Shivering, I pulled away, letting my arms drop to my sides. Retrieving a shirt from the pile I yanked it over my head and looked at my reflection.

You did what was necessary.

Stefan was watching me in the mirror, and I met his gaze. “I don’t feel guilty,” I said. “I just feel weird.”

“I understand,” He replied, softly.

Finished getting dressed, I walked out into the other room. Ilya was there with Stefan, and I realized it was his voice I’d heard earlier. He’d returned with Stefan and came upon the scene of my attempted assault.

“He killed himself, don’t worry,” Ilya offered, and my gaze snapped to his as I sat down.

We were in the receiving room and the body was on the center of the floor, wrapped inside a blanket.

Staring at the long shape I listened as Stefan added, “He knew better than to touch you.”

They were waiting for me to say something. “That makes sense but why would he stab himself in the neck?”

“Would you like to do the honors?” Ilya asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

I glanced at Stefan, who looked at me in cautious amusement. He knelt beside the body and tugged the edge of the covering down, exposing Lucian’s neck. “You want to make that go away, please?”

For a moment, I thought maybe they were asking me to help them cover up a crime but then I realized how silly that was. A crime was committed against me—not him. I knew Stefan and Ilya could easily do what they were requesting of me. Stefan was giving me the opportunity practice my magic, that’s what this was about.

Standing up, I went past the coffee table and squatted down beside the man’s neck.

“Try it in your head, first, I want to see something,” Ilya suggested.

Flicking a glance at him, I do so. Nothing happened. I shook my head, and he gestured for me to continue.

“Cover up the wound,” I said. What looked like a sheen of heat wavered over the gash in Lucian’s flesh and instantly, it was healed.

“One hundred percent oracle. With some transmutation,” Stefan announced.

“Yep,” Ilya agreed. “I’ll bring his body downstairs. Then I’ll make the announcement of his death.”