Page 14 of Beneath the Watching

She took the glass from me, her fingers gripping it from the top. “I didn’t know you’re a pastor.”

“Drink.” Normally, I used magic with restraint, preferring to rely on my powers of intellect. If this kept up, I’d find myself using it with abandon the way Ilya, Ramone, and the others did. It was ironic, how I needed the assistance of spells more often than my peers and utilized them the least. It wasn’t something I cared to dwell on, and I did what I had to, when needed.

Mabel lifted the cup to her face, and I watched her chest rise and fall. She glanced at me before taking a small sip. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips, and removing any traces of the fluid around her mouth. Her trusting nature sent a dart of anger through my chest. What if I had meant her harm?

“Finish it.”

She pulled her arm back and lowered the vessel, waiting a few seconds before she raised it again. “Good girl,” I said, my pulse beating frenetically in my veins as her throat bobbed.

She handed me the empty glass, the tips of her fingers brushing mine, and glanced around the empty chapel. She then sauntered toward the pulpit and stopped, tilting her head back.

I was waiting for a reaction to transpire, a noticeable difference in her behavior due to her having consumed the liquid. My own impatience grated at me. I would have to give her a moment to admire the beauty of my church’s sanctuary and wait for the hex to take effect.

Stepping in front of her after waiting a beat, I demanded, “Tell me why you are here.” This was the second time she’d shown up in this Realm, and come into my company, without an explanation. She was disturbing my peace with her beauty and with the drama surrounding her friend, I couldn’t help but be wary.

Despite my caution, all I could think about was sinking my teeth into her juicy flesh and marking her as mine. I wanted to bend her over my knee as punishment for my emotional turmoil and expose her flesh as she threatened to expose my secrets by her visitations.

“Are you bringing me here?” she asked.

I searched her eyes for deception and examined her face. My kind could read humans’ auras, their energy, but when it came to Mabel I was stymied. Under my perusal, there was nothing of outward concern I could sense, no subterfuge. It left me having to evaluate her innocence through her micro expressions.

From what I’d witnessed of her actions, she’d likely not be motivated to cause me trouble or try and incur harm. However, a sense of unease burrowed in my chest while I impatiently waited for the sorcery to take effect.

“I am not,” I answered. A brief flicker of disappointment crossed her face, and she dipped her head down.

“Would you like me to?” I asked her the question, knowing I was engaging in a dangerous game. If I got my meticulously manicured claws into her, I’d not let go. She didn’t deserve that but it seemed I couldn’t help myself.

“Do you know what happened to Kiara?”

I did, but I wasn’t going to allow her that knowledge. The woman she’d asked about had returned here, to the Fourth Realm, and was currently wandering the forests undetected by most.

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. Do you?”

Mabel continued to scan the room, taking in the solid oak molding, and soaring arched windows. Night was falling rapidly; in the unnerving way it had a habit of doing here. One moment it was midday, and the next, midnight.

After a minute, she shrugged and spoke again. “I don’t, but I have to wonder. I’d like to think she’s here rather than home.”

Her seeming lack of alarm for her friend’s wellbeing was stark. “Why?”

Her eyes sparkled. “So, thisiselsewhere.”

Begrudgingly, I had to smile. I’d let my guard down and she’d tricked me. “Most would think that.”

“I would’ve thought it was a dream if it wasn’t for the other things.” She twisted around with her head tilted back, a look of admiration across her face as she examined the elaborately carved arches of the ceiling. “I’m going to find her, you know. Bring her back.”

Alarmed, I insisted, “You can’t do that.”

Mabel answered me with a small smile, she knew I’d said too much. “I can try,” she said.

Night had now fallen, suddenly plunging us into darkness. I lit some candles with a flick of my wrist and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the woman in front of me.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

Grateful I’d distracted her, I asked, “Can you not do whatever you want in your dreams?” A single step brought me closer to her. I lifted a tentative hand to her face to caress her cheek with my thumb.

As I’d hoped, she didn’t move a muscle, rather, she turned her gaze to meet mine. “It's something other than that,” she said. Her eyes had a desperate light to them, she wanted me to assuage her fears in a rare display of vulnerability. She was drowning in a sea of unknowns and desperately hoping I’d throw her a lifeline.

My hand gripped her cheek. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep her in place. “What else would it be?” I asked her. She was unnervingly peaceful over what she should’ve assumed was solely her imagination. Her reactions were continuously atypical, I noted, as I gathered what little information I could glean from her responses. She was curious and yet also defeated, hopeful while also resigned.

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