25. Mabel
25
MABEL
The plans were drawn up for my bake shop. Benjamin and Jack had come in, the two men grinning from ear to ear, with a box of crayons and a large art pad and we got to work, letting our imaginations and creativity fly. Granted, I had no idea what building I’d set up in or even what I’d end up having to work with, but it was fun to dream. I would’ve preferred to sketch with pencils, even colored ones, and it was hard to reconcile the two burly, scary looking men with their odd habits, but I was grateful anyway.
“Right here, you should put a ball pit,” Benjamin jabbed a yellow crayon at the front corner of my shop layout drawing.
“A ball pit?” I asked. This was to be a bakery, not a nursery school.
“How about cage fighting? I know where to get celestial steel,” Jack offered, not helpfully.
My hand dragged down my face. “I’m going for cottage core, not karate core. What’s wrong with you?”
Jack’s chest heaved as he attempted and then failed to hold back a loud guffaw. “Just fuckin’ with you,” he said when he calmed down.
I threw a crayon at him just as Stefan walked into the room. “She doesn’t want cage fighting in her bakery,” Benjamin remarked, picking up his empty plate to bring to the kitchen. He’d eaten at least six broccoli cookies.
Stefan stared at him in disbelief before scowling and ignoring him. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, bending down to meet my lips with a quick kiss. “We’ll go after I tend to my congregation.”
He’d been ignoring his clergy duties in favor of dealing with Kiara’s situation and working closely with Lucian and Ilya. His assistant, Frederick, had been filling in. “Do you want me to come?”
“No, you can stay here with Benjamin and Jack,” he said. “Unless you want to?”
Lifting myself from where I’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor, I answered, “I want to, I need to get out of here.”
Days upon days of being confined to Stefan’s wing of the castle was wearing on me. There was only so much I could do, and I needed a break. My new friend Tiffany dropped by every now and then, but I still needed a change of scenery.
The walk to the church was refreshing and I lifted my face to the sun every time there was a break in the trees. I couldn’t wait until the day I could just run around outside without a care.
“Are you going to feed me again?” I asked Stefan, with a smirk, as he finished getting ready. We were now in his church office and the sight of the communion glasses jogged my memory.
He turned around, fidgeting with the black clerical collar set in the neck of his deep, red button-up shirt. “Would you like me to?” he asked, eyes gleaming and filling with a deep orange tint. “It's difficult to feel holy with you here.”
“As if you were ever holy,” I commented. “Why do I suspect there was something going on with that communion?”
Stefan’s smile spread into a grin, but he didn’t answer me right away. He crossed the room, putting his Bible and notes down on a desk and then grabbed me by the hips. “Because there was. I couldn’t bear the not knowing.”
He pressed a chaste kiss against my lips as I struggled to figure out what he meant. “What’d you do?”
“I altered the wine,” he replied gathering back up his items.
“And?” I prompted, following him from the room.
He swiveled his head. “And nothing. It didn’t do a thing.”
We entered the chapel, and I followed him down the aisle as he went to unlock the doors. Settling on a pew, I stopped him when he passed back by me. “What was it supposed to do?”
A tiny thrill ran through me, thinking about how he went to such lengths for me. I knew it was manipulative and messed up, but I loved the feeling of being so important that someone would break out all the stops for me.
Stefan slid between the pews, moving to the row in front of me. He flicked a hand, lighting the candles situated throughout the space and then gripped the upper edge of the wooden bench. “I was trying to open you up; I couldn’t read you. You naturally shield yourself to a degree,” he cocked his head. “It was torture.”
Giving him a small smile, I sat back as he walked away. His sermon taught that the heart is deceitful, more than anything else, and not to be trusted. I didn’t miss the glimmer in his eye when our gazes snagged, and I had to stare at my lap for several seconds while I swallowed my giggles.
It was fascinating, watching him lead the church through carefully placed words and artfully ambiguous phrases, all combined into one fiery diatribe. It was as if the people longed for the fear and the guilt, lived for the sole purpose of being damned under the weight of their real or imagined sin. The sheep eagerly frolicked toward their slaughter, hanging on to his every word. His very image was sinfully handsome, decked out in an elegant suit, his hair beautifully styled, and his lips naturally red. Physically, he represented much of what he preached against, and I loved it.
My love was a handsome and debased lyrical genius.
As I sat listening to Stefan preach, I heard the voice. The Sentient entered my consciousness smoothly, softly.
As you speak, so shall it be .
My skin tingled at the words. “What do you mean?” I whispered.
Ask and you shall receive.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered again. My arms felt prickly, as if a weak current of electricity were sparking just under the surface.
You will.
Afterwards, Stefan escorted me to our area of the castle and left with Ilya on some kind of assignment back home in the Third Realm. Benjamin and Jack hung out in the living room, and I worked on my list of supplies for the bake shop. Writing down the items I would need to secure for my creations was fun, and I began making notes of color schemes for the decor and possible materials for the furnishings.
There was a knock at the door, and I listened curiously as I heard Jack say, “Who are you?”
A feminine voice said, “I’m sick of this.”
My skin tingled like it had earlier as I became hyperaware of everything around me. The feel of the paper under my fingertips felt too rough, as if I held sandpaper in my palm. Sounds became amplified; a stereo system turned up too high. My pen dropped to the countertop as I braced myself.
Footsteps smacked against wooden flooring. “I know she’s in there.” Dragging my eyes up, I held my breath. The kitchen door swung open, and she stepped through.
“Why are you here?” Kiara asked, her tone accusing.
My words became stuck in my throat. It was Kiara, but also not Kiara. Her hair was different, her skin altered, and her eyes were lighter. There was no question it was her—just her enhanced . Supposedly, as evidenced by the Sentient in my head, I had magic as did she. Hers changed the atmosphere. Like a living, breathing, intangible entity it filled the space between us.
Neither of us moved, instead we stared at each other for several, long seconds. Finally, I broke the ice. “I wanted to find you, but Stefan wouldn’t let me. And those bodyguards report everything to him.”
Benjamin and Jack, while engaging in multiple forms of distracting entertainments, were adept at reporting my every move to the point they annoyed a longsuffering Stefan to no end.
He didn’t need to know I’d selected a different teacup on Wednesday morning, but he was now in possession of that piece of fascinating information. He could be dramatically severe at times, but he had a heart for those nearest and dearest and humored his men by listening to the banalities of my daily life.
Kiara was one of my own very few nearest and dearest and the impulse to take her in my arms and give her a hug was almost overwhelming. I held back, both shocked and relieved at her sudden appearance, while I waited for the invisible force field surrounding her to abate.
“Stefan?” She gazed at me curiously.
Straightening my pen so it lined up with my notepad, I said, “He’s been keeping me safe. For the most part. When he can.” I cleared my throat.
“Madison thinks you're dead,” she said, reproaching me.
A deep sigh left my chest. “It really wasn’t up to me.”
Kiara stepped back from the counter a space. “You’re not here willingly?”
Irritation teased the back of my mind. I’d had to watch as she endangered others, messed with my boyfriend’s best friend’s heart, and then I endured worrying about her for ages and now it felt as if she were questioning my lifestyle choices.
Ignoring her inflammatory questions, I asked her one instead. “What happened to you?”
She laughed bitterly. “Where do I start?” She crossed her arms. “What about Al?”
“What about him? He doesn’t really give a shit what I do; he never did. He was only my boyfriend in title. I guess I have a lot to tell you.”
Kiara nodded heartily, raising her eyebrows at me. “Where’s Stefan? I need to see him,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to kill him.”
I giggled. “No, you’re not.”
My ill-timed laughter over my friend thinking she’d do anything to him pissed her off. She raised her hand and gestured toward the stack of plates on the table behind me. They shattered.
Okay, then.
Stunned, I slid to the side. Not a single broken piece of porcelain had come anywhere near me but better to be safe than sorry.
Clearing my throat a second time, I asked, “What is going on with you? I’ve been worried sick and then you come in here threatening the people I love and breaking our dishes. We have nothing to do with whatever happened to you, maybe you should talk to Ramone and Ilya.”
Casting a glance over my shoulder I walked across the room yanked the broom closet door open, intending to clean up her mess just as Benjamin and Jack came barreling in.
“Miss, you need to leave right now,” Benjamin ordered my friend.
She scoffed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I shook my head at my bodyguard, attempting to dismiss him. “We just need to talk,” I tried to reassure and soothe his worried countenance. Jack didn’t seem convinced. “It's okay, just go. I’ll yell if I need anything. She’s my friend; I’m fine.”
We waited until they exited. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been stressed. Ilya erased my memory and then I remembered everything. He accidently poisoned me; he sort of killed Ramone. Ramone tricked me into working for him.” Kiara half-heartedly waved her hand at the pile of china on the floor, and it reconstructed itself into a stack on the tabletop.
Realizing I was holding the narrow door open and fixating on the miraculous plates, I let go and it swung shut with a snap. Kiara pulled out a chair and made herself at home, resting her elbows next to the dishes. “I have all this magic, but I feel like a milking cow. They just want to drain me. All of them.”
I settled across from her. “So, what are you going to do? I wanted to help you so bad. I tried, but....I couldn’t stop thinking about you and wondering.”
“I don’t know. You still didn’t tell me why you’re here.” She gave me a pointed look.
My arms joined hers, resting on the polished surface. “I can’t discuss it but I’m okay, I’m happy.”
She eyed me, her gaze skimming my edges before she examined me closely making me feel like I was in a display case. “Wait—do you have magic, too?” She asked. I shrugged, looking away. “Hm,” she hummed. Her shoulders hit the back of the chair.
“Everyone thought you killed yourself,” I said, softly.
“I’m aware,” she replied. “Can you imagine if Madison showed up here, too? It's been the three of us since high school; might as well be together here, too.”
Somehow, I doubted that’d work out. This didn’t seem like an environment our friend would be entirely comfortable in. There wasn’t enough shopping. “Are you going to stick around?”
Kiara ran a fingernail down the side of the plates. “I’m declared legally dead, so I have to.”
“What about you? You are staying?” she asked me after a moment.
“Yep. I prefer it here and it's where Stefan lives. He’s not like your boyfriend.” Kiara winced when I mentioned Ilya. “You’re with Ilya, right? Not Ramone?” It was hard to keep straight sometimes.
She leveled a gaze at me like I was the biggest idiot on the planet and then I remembered one of the men was maybe slightly dead. Kinda dead. Whatever the heck it was. Partially dead? I didn’t know if he was in recovery yet. “Oh yeah,” I muttered. “The coma-thing. Sorry.”
Kiara rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m glad you’re okay. When I heard you were missing, I had no idea what happened to you, and I was worried. But you look good. You look more alive than I’ve ever seen you.” She gave me a smile. “Good for you.”
I sensed the sincerity in her tone and appreciated it. “Thank you.”
She headed for the door. “We’re gonna hang out. Tell Stefan I’ll protect you. He knows I can.”
The door swung shut behind her and I sat back down, stunned. I’d never expected to see her again. I’d known Ilya was trying to bring her back, get her away from the other man, but it’d seemed like a dream with all the horror stories I’d heard about Ramone and his craziness.
Things were finally coming together for me. Between a bake shop, a boyfriend, and a growing social circle—my life was headed in a great direction.
Everything was perfect.
Dead.
The voice in my head whispered and my heart fell to my knees. Then I remembered Ramone, he was the dead one.