Chapter 24
A Werewolf.
Ethan Rollo was a werewolf, and for a split second, Bel forgot to be afraid as the magnitude of this revelation settled over her. The claw-like wounds, the dog fur, the unnatural sent Eamon detected, and Bel’s memory rewound to the night they found the Matchstick Girls in their freezer. Eamon had slipped unseen onto the property to comfort her, but he’d sensed something inhuman. Bel had assumed it was the killer or Ewan, and then her kidnapping ensured she forgot their conversation, but it all came flooding back. He’d scented Rollo at that crime scene, just as he had on the bodies in the woods. Only she couldn’t remembera single momentwhen the men had crossed paths. Anytime her boyfriend was on set, the deputy had magically been assigned to the outdoor perimeter, and the one time he’d ventured inside to rescue Taron from the falling light, Eamon had been outside speaking Japanese to a client. Rolloclearlyrecognized the greater power and steered clear of him, and with supernaturals flocking to the events, Eamon’s senses were too overwhelmed to detect a distant wolf. What would’ve happened if Eamon had joined them at the bar? Would Rollo have suddenly grown ill and canceled?
“Holy—!” Beau screamed before a powerful blow silenced him, and Bel’s fearcame flooding back. Rollo was gone, a seven-foot werewolf in his place, and she no longer had the upper hand. When he was merely a deputy, she held the power. But now?
Rollo spun on her, fangs bared as he reared onto his hind legs. He wasn’t a wolf in a natural sense. He didn’t stand on all fours, nor did he resemble the ancestors of the household pet. He was a creature from a nightmare—both man and animal—with canines protruding from his snout and claws curving from his fingers, and Bel couldn’t tear her eyes away from their savagery. A custom prop weapon hadn’t killed his victims. He’d slaughtered them with his own hands, and by the crazed focus in his gaze, he’d set his sights on her for interrupting his final kill.
“Rollo, don’t!” she screamed as he charged, and with a prayer for forgiveness on her tongue, she pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed the werewolf in the shoulder, and he flew backward, crashing into the snow so hard that his body almost disappeared under the mountain of white.
“Draven, run!” she shouted as she reached under her coat and jammed the panic button. Why hadn’t she pressed it when the cell service went down? Would Eamon even get her alert if the phone didn’t work? Not that it mattered if he did. He’d never make it in time. His mansion was too far away, and Rollo was already moving.
“Draven, now!” She held her gun at the ready, their only hope of survival getting back to her car, and as she backed up through the snow, Eamon’s words played out in her head. He’d made her promise to step aside if the deal came for his last victim and proved toopowerfulfor her to combat. Their suspected killer had been wrong, but the sentiment was the same. Bel couldn’t fight a werewolf, and was a murderer’s life worth hers? Could she step aside and let someone die?Could shejuststand there watching as Rollo sliced through Beau and then leave him to bleed out?
“Draven!” Mind made up, she lowered her weapon and raced for her SUV. If he reached the car, she’d help, but if the wolf caught him first, she’d allow fate to punish him for his sins.
“What’s going on?” Draven screamed as he fumbled through the snow. “What did you give me? Did you drug me? You must have.” He stopped to gawk at the werewolf struggling to regain its footing. “You drugged me, and then refuse to help me? Youreallyare a?—”
Rollo’s roar cut him off as he surged to his feet, and Beau bolted for Bel. She paused, gun aimed as she tracked the creature’s movements, but just before he reached her, Rollo coiled his legs below him and leaped.
Bel couldn’t stop her scream as the werewolf sailed over their heads, and with a jolt like thunder, he landed behind her, cutting off her escape to the cars. Bel slipped on the snow, her knee collapsing as she struggled not to fall on her face, and then she took off running in the opposite direction, her weapon aimed at the creature. She fired two shots, neither finding their target, andshegrabbed Draven by the arm. She should let Rollo have him. Let the wolf exact his revenge, but then the world would view Beau as a martyr and not the murderer he was. Bel wouldn’t let him die here to become a legend. He was going to live and stand trial. He would have to face his fans as they learned he was a monster.
“Let him go!” Rollo’s voice was so cruelly guttural that tears pricked Bel’s eyes involuntarily, and she twisted, firing off a fourth shot. This one found a home in the wolf’s shoulder, but instead of slowing him down, Rollo leaned into the blow and leaped for her. Bel screamed as the wind whistled at her back, as the tip of Rollo’s claws sliced through the fabric of her coat, and she braced for the pain. She braced for the end, but before his claws dug into her flesh, a shadow with inhuman speed burst through the trees. The figure collided with the wolf with such force that bones audibly snapped, and she tripped over Beau, tumbling to the ground as war broke out.
“What the—?” he started, but Bel slammed his face into the snow.
“Shut up,” she snarled, climbing on top of him to handcuff his arms behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent, so shut up!” She’d finish reciting the Miranda Warning when death didn’t hang so heavy in the air, and the minute Beau was secured, she rose to her feet and spun toward the violence.
“Oh my god.” She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in her fear. Eamon had come for her. Somehow, he’d arrived in time, and hell had broken loose on earth. Blood and snow and tree splinters flew on the wind as the Dhampir and werewolf fought. Rollo’s claws dug into Eamon’s side, ripping his shirt clean off his body as they ravaged his flesh, and Bel thought she might vomit at the sight. Blood poured down Eamon’s ribs, and he skidded to a stop, testing the gouges’ severity with his fingers as he settled his weight between Bel and the werewolf.
“Isobel?” he shouted as the wolf stalked him, hunting for an opening.
“I’m okay!” she assured him, but no sooner did the words leave her mouth thanRollo attacked. Bel had witnessed Eamon fight Ewan in his bear form, but Ewan hadn’t wanted to harm them.He wassimplysearching for Olivia, so he’d retreated the first chance he got, but Rollo had no intention of backing down.He wanted death. Bel’s? Eamon’s? Beau’s? He didn’t seem to care, and Bel gripped her stomach as the men turned the snow crimson with their blood. Rollo’s bones broke. Eamon’s flesh split apart until gruesome slabs hung loose, and tears filled her eyes as her beloved’s roar of pain echoed endlessly through the mountains.
“Please,” she begged. She didn’t know who she was asking. All she knew was that she couldn’t bear the sight of Eamon’s skin peeling away from his skeleton.
“Yield,” Eamon growled as he rolled through the snow and landed in a predatory crouch.
“Never.” Rollo gnashed his fangs. “I won’t stop until Draven’s dead.”
“But you made a mistake. You went after Isobel,” Eamon snarled. “This is your last chance to yield, or I’ll kill you.”
“I told her to leave.” The wolf slashed a tree trunk with his claws. “I warned her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“You put your hands on her. Yield or I will kill you.”
“Then kill me because I would rather die than let Draven live.” And with that, Rollo sprang forward, but the Dhampir expected his attack. With movements almost too fast for Bel to see, Eamon lunged sideways and caught the werewolf’s throat. With a strangled gag, Rollo clawed at Eamon’s fist, but the millionaire held tight, and with a surge of power, Eamon hauled the wolf to his mouth.
Bel increased her palm’s pressure over her mouth as Rollo’s unnatural screams polluted the air. He writhed and screamed and flailed, but Eamon didn’t relent. He trapped him against his mouth, his teeth biting deeper. And then he drank. Blood pumped from the werewolf’s veins passed Eamon’s tongue, and with every swallow, the wolf struggled less and less. His screams quieted. His resistance waned, and with a nauseating punch to her gut, Bel realized Eamon was killing him. A few moreseconds,andRollo would bleed to death, and by the bloodlust flooding her boyfriend’s eyes, he had no intention of stopping until he drained the werewolf dry.
“Eamon, stop!” She raced for him as Rollo’s wolf mutated, skin replacing fur. He was dying, his body reverting to its human form, and Bel fought the deep snow drifts as she ran faster.
“Please,” she begged. “Don’t kill him.” She didn’t want Rollo to die. Despite everything, she still cared for the deputy, and she didn’t want to witness his ending.
“Eamon, stop!” She grabbed his shoulder, and like a man possessed, he dropped the bleeding but very human Rollo and whirled on her. Bel flinched at the hunger in his gaze and the blood coating his mouth. This was how he’d looked a year ago when the curse drove him to try killing her. The death in his black eyes had given her nightmares, and the hazy craze in his expression now yanked her back to that horrifying night. She stepped backward, her heart thundering at the beast before her, and shegot a glimpse ofwho he’d been in the first ages. This is what humanity knew him for, and he was terrifying.
“Isobel.” Eamon grabbed her, and she shrieked at the speed, but before she could register what happened, she was suffocating against his chest.
He cursed, the words ugly and vulgar as they vibrated his ribs against her face, and he wrapped his arms around her head, instinctively burying his nose in her hair.
“Are you okay?” heasked,his concern so at war with his violence that Bel wasn’t sure he’dactuallyspoken.
“Isobel?” he repeated. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” His bloody chest and raging heartbeat muffled her answer
“Oh, thank god.” He kissed a path to her cheek as he forced her to meet his gaze. They hovered wordlessly inside the blizzard, and then his lips met hers, hunger flowing through him in an entirely new way. He was still a predator, but he no longer wanted to kill and consume.
Without warning, he cursed against her mouth, and his almost angry departure confused Bel until she felt his fingers brush against her face. “Sorry,” he apologized as he wiped Rollo’s blood from her lips. “I…” he fumbled over his words, and Bel had the distinct impression he was high. “I’m sorry… I’m just so relieved.” He pulled her back into his arms. “I got here in time.”
“Are you crying?” she asked, shocked by the tremble in his voice.
“I got here in time,” he repeated, and she heard itclearly. He was crying. “Thank you for pressing the button, but Detective, push it sooner. I thankfully realized cell service was down, so I checked your tracker’s location. When I saw you were in the woods, I left the house, but please, for the love of God—or me—push the panic button immediately.”
“I’m sorry. I made a bad judgment call.” She cupped his bloody jaw, not caring that she was now soaked in his blood. It wasn’t the first time, and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last. “When I got here, Rollo was unarmed. I didn’t know he was a wolf, so I didn’t expect to need your help. Thank you for coming for me, anyway.”
“I made it.” He cupped her face in return. “We can do this.We’ll make this work…justpress the button sooner.”
“I told you we’re better together.” She kissed him softly, despite the blood still staining his lips. She loved this man. No… she loved this Dhampir. Impaler or not, Eamon Stone was hers, and she would never give him up.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked when they finally broke apart, and for the first time, Bel registered how little he was wearing. He was barefoot and now shirtless in the snow, and even though she knew he didn’t feel cold like her, she wrapped her arms around his healing waist.
“Physically? Yes,” she answered “Emotionally? Not in the slightest. I like Rollo. I don’t want to arrest him for this. I don’t want Violet to learn she was falling for a serial killer.”
“It’s no different from you loving me,” Eamon said.
“But you didn’t come into my town to slaughter people.”
“No.” he traced her scars. “I only tried to harm you.”
“It’s why I asked you not to kill Rollo,” she said. “It reminded me too much of that night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And I hate when you’re hurt. It makes me sick.”
“You know I heal.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She pressed her ear against his thundering heart. “I love you. I can’t watch monsters rip you apart. Are you okay?”
“Of course I am.”
“Then why do your eyes look like that?” She pinched his jaw and tilted his headso she couldstudy his unfocused eyes. “Are you on something?”
“I almost drank a werewolf to death,” he answered. “That’s a lot of supernatural blood running through me.”
“Will you be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He tucked her hair behind her ears. “A little jacked up on the bloodlust, but it’ll wear off. Don’t worry. I’m not a danger to you. I fed before I came, and then all that blood. I won’t need to feed for a while.”
“Ok good.” She rubbed his chest as he lowered his nose to her neck to inhale her scent, and it didn’t surprise her that she wasn’t the leastbitafraid of his sharp canines so close to her throat.
“You smell incredible, though… sorry.” He cursed as he forced himself to step away from her. “The last time I drank like this was when I attacked you, so my instincts are raging. I won’t hurt you; I swear it.Ijustcan’t get over how your skin smells.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“I see that.” He smiled, and the red bathing his mouth made for an unsettling grin. “Thank you for not being afraid of me. For trusting that I can control myself around you.” He tapped his forehead against hers. “God, I made a mess of you, though.”
“I don’t care.” She stared down at the unconscious Rollo. “I was more worried about your life than my coat.”
“I’ll buy you a replacement, but for now, what do we do with these two?” he asked before she could protest.
“I know what we should do,” she said, gripping his hand for emotional support. “But, god, I don’t want to.”
Bel didn’t change, nor did she wash the blood from her body. The Bajka Police Department would demand proof that one of their own was to blame for the bloodshed plaguing their town, and the sight of her crimson coat would persuade even the most cynical doubter. Eamon had helped her dress the weak and wounded Rollo back into his uniform since his tee shirt and sweats shredded when he shifted, and then they’d locked both the werewolf and the actor in the rear of the squad car. He’d heal enough to explain the red on her clothes while not alerting anyone to the fact that he’d been shot twice. Eamon then took her SUV and forged a path through the nearly impenetrable blizzard, and she followed him with their prisoners, struggling not to cry during the seemingly endless trip.
One of Bajka’s own had betrayed their trust. A man she liked. A man whose arms she’d pushed her friend into. A man she almost didn’t blame for his sins. Because what would she have done if someone sacrificed her father so brutally for a reward as shallow as fame? What would she do if someone desecrated her sisters’ bodies and got away with it? What would she do if she couldn’t legally bring her family’s killers to justice, no matter how hard she tried? Would she walk away and move on from the people she loved, or would the tragedy drive her to madness? Could she ever let such a heinous crime go? Would she ever forget the way her sister’s mutilated body looked in the snow? Was she going to hell for arresting a man who did what the police had failed to do six years ago?
Darkness hadlong sincefallen by the time Bel and Eamon pulled into the station’s parking lot. Her hands were slick with sweat from gripping the steering wheel so intensely. It had been the mostdifficultdrive of her life, both because the roads were impossible to traverse and because the image of Rollo’s claws ripping apart Eamon’s body played on repeat through her memory. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t easily killed. She loved him, and when he bled, her heart bled with him.
“Are you ready?” Eamon asked when she finally stepped out of the squad car.
“No,” she whispered, still shocked they’d survive the drive through the storm. “Are we doing the right thing arresting Rollo? His victims made a deal witha devilto ensure their success. They deserve his punishment.”
“I agree, but he chose this fate. Rollo could’ve killed them quietly. He’s a wolf. He could’ve dragged them into the woods and ensured their bodies were never found, but he shoved hismurdersin your face. He wanted public vengeance for his grandmother, so this is the price he must pay.”
“The price we all must pay.” Bel gripped Eamon’s hand. “Walk inside with me?”
“I’ll raise questions.” He glanced down at his bare chest and feet.
“Back seat of my car on the floor,” she said. “I took a play out of your handbook after that IED almost killed us.”
Eamon jogged to her SUV, and after locating the duffle bag, he pulled on a hoodie and a pair of sneakers. Bel had learned the importance of carrying changes of clothes for them after his entire back had been blown off on the Darling Estate. Her foresight proved wise. She couldn’t do this walk alone, but he was right. He couldn’t emerge from a blizzard and enter the station half-naked.
“Breathe one word of the wolf, and you’ll have to answer to me,” Eamon whispered to the actor as they pulled the still listless Rollo and the terrified Draven out of the squad car. “Your testimony will forget what you witnessed earlier. Rollo tried to kill you to exact revenge on you for his grandmother, but if you so much as think of revealing the truth, I’ll come for you.”
Draven didn’t speak. He merely leaned as far away from Eamon as his handcuffs allowed. He’d made a deal, which meant he knew that powers beyond humanity dwelled in this world, and it seemed he understood Eamon was not a welcomed enemy. He kept his mouth shut, and as the foursome strode through the front doors, an oppressive heaviness descended upon them, infecting all trapped within the walls of the Bajka Police Department.