Page 11 of Beneath the Watching

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 withinthe 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 thereaction 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 theback 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 washer;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 youwanting. 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.

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