Page 45 of Beneath the Watching

“Stefan, thank you for joining us,” Sem called out to me, raising his hand as if it hadn’t been a direct order to be here at this very moment.

Resting my arms on the table, I replied, “Thank you for having me, my Lord.” Josiah had mentioned it was a less formal occasion, but I stuck with the title in a show of respect.

As I poured myself a glass of blood, not wanting to insult my host, the featured centerpiece of the table twitched lightly and moaned. “Josiah...”

Sem laughed and the man she’d just pleaded for took a knife from his sleeve and plunged it into her thigh in a flash of movement. A keening wail emanated from her outstretched throat while her muscles twitched in agony. Invisible bonds held her to the table and stopped her from finding any relief from his blade.

Anger and pain wafted from her body, scenting the air. The irresistible essence of her torture wound around us, adrift in the ether as if on a breeze. Combined with the weight of lust in all its forms and the other delectable fragrances permeating the atmosphere, I couldn’t resist my instinct to inhale. I savored the flavors and lightly replenished my stores.

I shuddered as I felt the magic coursing through me and let my guard down, permitting a show of my nature. Privacy be damned, the smartest thing to do was to give in even if only minimally.

Josiah smirked at me as he pressed his cup against her leg, leaving the steel in her flesh. After he set his cup down, he slid a beautiful set of silver talons atop his fingers similar to what Sem had worn and began stroking her thigh. I watched her skin curl into spiraling thin strings while he casually sipped on her life force.

“Josiah,” the woman cried as her fight began returning to her.

He stopped the careful strokes and plunged the razor-sharp tips of his rings into her thigh and squeezed, lifting himself slightly to get a better grip. “You let the Court down,” he growled at her.

Her head shook back and forth. “No, no, I tried. I told you.” Her back arched as he held his other hand toward her, teasingat removing her soul from its physical vehicle. Her scream filled the room. “Please,” she yelled.

His eyes narrowed and I sensed more was at play than what I’d been led to believe. “I don’t abide liars or traitors.” He snapped his wrist, and I watched as he consumed her. He shivered and then spat on the floor in distaste, casting a disgusted glare her way before straightening his back and running his hand down his chest.

When he glanced at me, his eyes glowed much as mine did, but with an illuminated liquid black rather than a crimson hue.

He’d looked at me with something akin to pity and I’d almost expected an apology, but he raised his brows and settled back in his seat instead. The fleeting emotion I’d detected left me disturbed, unable to translate the meaning or its significance to our surroundings.

Sem smacked his hands together and left them clasped in front of him, the deep folds of his robes gathering around his wrists. “So, Stefan, when can we expect Mabel’s arrival?”

14

MABEL

Stefan had been gonefor a while. It was hard to tell how much time went by, with the sun rising and setting at such odd times. Speaking of which, not a single clock or timepiece made any sense despite how often I tried to coordinate them, setting them all to twelve. They seemed to have a mind of their own and when I’d go back and look, one would read three, another ten, and some didn’t move at all despite the ticking sound indicating they should’ve been working properly.

Benjamin and Jack attempted to entertain and keep me company and I found myself completing crossword puzzles with them. I couldn’t get into the crazy tabloids they loved but I may have read at least twenty issues of National Geographic and now knew way more about the Serengeti than I’d ever expected.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t figure out a way to get past them and sneak out to find someone who may know where Kiara was. Stefan had remained tight-lipped on the subject, and Benjamin and Jack didn’t know a thing about her, really, and just peered at me sadly when I danced around the subject trying to see what they knew.

Both men were enthusiastic about my green bean bread, thanks to Stefan’s violation of my privacy and his clandestine intrusion into my kitchen back home. They also fully supported my resurrected idea of opening a bakery, which endeared them to me.

Currently, I was dumping piles of cooked broccoli into a blender to mash it to baby food consistency. With this new creation, I was torn between adding flaxseeds or chia seeds and orange extract or coconut for added flavor. I couldn’t decide and settled on making extra bread rather than only two so I could try it all.

The two men had been playing a rousing game of Go Fish when Benjamin accused Jack of cheating, so they decided to take the argument “outside,” whatever that meant. I kind of expected them to return covered with dirt from a mudpie fight and that had inspired me to consider baking an edible one. Didn’t fulvic acid come from dirt? It was supposed to be good for you.

I was certain I could only get away with baking with discarded organic matter here, in this place called the Fourth Realm where everything was pure and fresh, and the dirt looked like chocolate cake crumbles. I had at least two men who would happily sample it if I was crazy enough to go through with the idea.

Yes, I was fully aware I was a preschooler when it came to the culinary arts. But no one ever had a breakthrough by playing it safe in the kitchen and wherever I was, it wasn’t real. Not real like my home, the Third Realm. No, everything was magical and clean and fresh here in this place.

Honestly, my green bean bread was pretty darn good, and I’d started writing all my recipes down so I wouldn’t lose or mess up a single one I wanted to recreate.

Lifting my hand-written notes from the counter, I took my other hand off the blenders’ button and turned around.

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“How are you, child?” Lucian casually strolled up to the kitchen island, placing his hands on the cool, stone counter.

I’m not a child,I wanted to say, but held myself back.

“I’m good, thanks.” I glanced at him quickly and shoved my list into my pocket before I began to measure my broccoli mash.

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