Page 7 of Beneath the Watching

“People don’t come here by accident. Who sent you?”

The thin red circle started glowing in his eyes just like I’d seen earlier. “How did you do that to your eyes?”

He gave me a cruel smile. “Your distractive questions won’t work on me. Answer my question.”

I pulled my legs up and tucked them to the side, trying to get comfortable. “I did answer you. I just woke up here. Is this part of the casino, like a new attraction or something?”

It could’ve been, I tried to tell myself. There could’ve been an addition built onto the huge complex, like a natural history museum, and I’d sleep-walked my way in. Stranger things had happened, I was sure. Though, that didn’t account for the trek through the woods or the whole waking up in the snow event.

The need to grasp straws grew stronger as my anxiety increased. I’d never been shaken up like this before. I wasn’t the type to get black-out drunk or experiment with any drugs; visiting deserted houses was about as adventurous as I got.

Waking up in a foreign place was exactly that—foreign. I was truly concerned. Nothing ever really bothered me as I tended to just go with the flow, but this situation was something I’d never dealt with before.

Stefan rubbed his temples and squatted in front of me, his glimmering eyes level with my own. I leaned forward for a closer look noticing how the irises were lit from within, the incandescence like that of a firefly. Their luminosity ebbed and flowed almost hypnotically; I could’ve watched them for hours. While disturbing, it was also beautiful. But then again, everything about this man was.

He grabbed my shoulders, pushing me back before he stood up, startling me. “What is wrong with you?” he snarled.

“What do you mean? I really don’t know how I got here.”

He dragged a hand over his mouth. “Not that, never mind.” He held out his hand. “Get up.”

A gasp escaped me when I gripped the outstretched limb. I felt a static shock, like what you get in the winter when you’re cold and you touch something warm, but it didn’t hurt. My fingers curled with his as he helped me, and his eyes flickered. He’d felt it, too.

My ears started buzzing, a fuzzy sound filling my head before it changed into a melody. It reminded me of a darker version of meditation music. I shook my head and swallowed, trying to clear my ears, but the sound persisted. “Do you hear that?”

Stefan let go of my hand. “Hear what?”

Was it really just me? The further twinge of worry filling my chest was unwelcome. “The sound, like music.”

He glanced down. “You need to leave before it's too late.”

Leaving me standing there, he leaned over the couch and began folding the blankets. The action appeared to unsettle him when he swiveled his head, unsure where to place the folded fabric.

Water squished between my toes when I wiggled them. I needed a towel. The chill had left me, but I was still extremely uncomfortable. “How do I leave?”

“The same way you got here,” he growled, tossing the pile to the corner of the couch.

He was decidedly unhelpful. “I don’t know how I got here or where I am, so how would I leave?” I asked.

“I can't read you,” he said, straightening his back. “Not like I should. You’re not here by accident, as you’d like me to believe.”

Slowly, I lowered myself back on the couch wondering what he meant and grabbed a throw from the pile he’d just folded. The remaining blankets, I used as a pillow while he stared at me in disbelief. He swung back toward the couch, reaching out for the fabric I was tucking in around my shoulders. “I told you to leave,” he said.

Whipping an arm up, I grabbed his hand to stop him. “That’s what I’m doing,” I pleaded. The contact with his skin sent another frisson of pleasure through me. “I’m going back to sleep.” A look of confusion crossed his face.

“You can leave the music on, I don’t mind it,” I told him. Stefan twisted his fingers, holding my wrist. “So pretty,” Imumbled, staring at him as I closed my eyes, my arm still suspended in the air.

He let go and a deep sigh left me as I turned to my side. I had to be dreaming, some type of strange, realistic, vivid dream. The only solution was to go back to sleep if I was going to go home. A hand brushed my hair back from my face, sending a tingle down my spine.

“Are you going to drink me?” I mumbled, recalling his earlier words when he sat beside me in the night club. Did he think he was a vampire, or was he trying to be poetic when he’d said it?

I heard his sharp intake of breath and felt the couch shift. He’d lowered himself to the cushions, his hip beside mine. A small thrill ran through me although I kept my eyes tightly shut. I was feeling some type of way I couldn’t quite identify toward this guarded man other than merely raw desire. I liked it even if he wasn’t too fond of me.

That was okay though, I’d take what I could get. This had to be a dream, it was too amazing not to be.

I should’ve asked Kiara about that night in the abandoned house, but I just hadn’t been able to bring myself to. How do you ask someone if you're hallucinating with them? You do that, and they think you’re crazy. I already had enough labels—foster kid, boring, cold, Al’s useless girlfriend. I didn’t want to add “unstable” to the list whether it was accurate or not.

He dragged a finger down my neck, tracing the skin along my shoulder, down my arm, and all the way to the edge of my wrist. It was tempting to roll over on my back, to force his touch elsewhere and stare into his lava-like eyes again. The physical contact relaxed and comforted me, and I felt myself fading, my thoughts being sucked away to the recesses of my mind with tiny bursts of white light as I left.

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