Untouched (Untouched #1)(Old Work)

Chapter Five

"He knows," the last of the men answered meanwhile, twirling a stick in his fingers and eyes glued to the house. "He knows for sure."

"And you should be grateful you are serving him," added the second man.

"But he's on the other side of the world, how can h-." The first man froze in mid-sentence, his eyes widen open in fright. A cool breeze had picked up and rustled the leaves of a nearby tree. It was enough to penetrate the trio's clothes, send chills down their backs, and make their breath visible. The long, grey metal street-lights that lined the street flickered and diminished, plunging the street into perpetual darkness. No one could see a single thing apart from the lights that remained on in the houses and if any of the residents took the chance to look outside, they would be blinded by the darkness. It was like staring at a plain piece of black cardboard. This was followed by deathly silence; the owls that were hooting earlier had stopped singing their song.

"How can I be here?" someone mused in front of them. There was a crisp click! of fingers and the street-lights came back at half-power, the light only enough to faintly show the charming newcomer. He was wearing elaborate Necromancer's robes; a robe made of dark, ivy green silk with gold trimming on the edges that illuminated from the scarce light. His skin was pale, his cheeks rounded, and his nose snubbed. His eyes were onyx black, and his hair was short; black with a gloss-like shine.

"Lord Lucien!" greeted the trio hastily; the smallest man gasping at the sudden presence of their superior.

His resemblance to his brother, Melvin, was undeniable. The resemblance was so close that they even shared the same smirk. Lucien stood in front of the three men, his arms crossed across his chest. He took striding steps towards the smallest of the men, the one that had questioned his abilities. The man immediately looked down at his shoes and refused to make eye contact. Lucien detected guilt, the heartbeat of the man standing before him ringing quickly and thunderously in his ears.

"Do you doubt me, commoner?"

"No, my Lord," he mumbled. Lucien saw the man sway minutely backwards, like he was trying to put more distance between them. He somehow doubted that it was intentional, more like an automatic flight or fight reaction. "One would not doubt a man of your calibre."

"Was it not you that questioned my whereabouts?" his voice was sharp, cutting into the man like swords. He was cowering in front of Lucien now. The remorse pleased him. It meant that his hard-earned authority still instilled fear into those around him.

"Yes, my Lord. But you are great. I need to be punished for my doubt."

A cold smile broke across Lucien's pale lips, making the hairs on the man's body stand on end. He adopted a soft voice, soft but blood-curdling. "Again, and I will take your firstborn that your wife is carrying at this moment. Is this clear in that thick skull of yours?"

The man nodded furiously. "Thank-you, my Lord, thank-you. You have been the most gracious."

Lucien lifted a hand and slipped two fingers underneath the man's chin. He lifted it so the man was now forced to stare into Lucien's burning eyes. "I promise you that, commoner. Mark my very words." He then dropped his fingers away. "Update on the situation, please," he requested from the others.

The third man, named Ratch, cleared his throat.

"The girl hasn't left the house since she came home from school and the library. Grey paid her a visit earlier this evening before you arrived and offered her mentoring to train her abilities. She rejected him and...," Ratch laughed, "he disappeared."

"Did he vanish? Inside the house?"

"Yes, my Lord. He hasn't stepped in or out of those doors. Dermott and his team can confirm that he hasn't accessed the rear door either."