Page 45 of Autopsy of a Fairytale
Bel captured her dog’s leash and pulled him back toward the cabin for dinner. “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you, Eamon Stone.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Detective, as always.” His whiskey-smooth voice wrapped around her like sunlight and smoke, and she waved her hand over her head at him without a backward glance as she and Cerberus left the forest.
* * *
Eamon watchedBel and her dog walk home, but he stayed rooted to the spot she left him standing on. Isobel Emerson. His little Detective. He told her the truth, mostly, but there was one fact he kept hidden. If he told her what he tasted in her blood, the truth about why he could never leave her side, she would have been alarmed, and he had already caused his beautiful woman enough fear. He would fight an endless war to earn her forgiveness. He would sacrifice himself to save her life, but this? It wasn’t the time for her to know, so he kept that knowledge to himself, content knowing that she hadn’t cast him out. He could be patient. He was older than he cared to remember and had endured those years before her. He could endure a while longer.
He stood in the woods until the sun set and her scent disappeared. Even at this distance, he could see her clearly through her cabin window. She was making the first proper meal he’d seen her cook, complete with a steak for her dog, and he could tell by the way she spoke on the phone, it was her father. He couldn’t stop a smile from gracing his face. His detective was eating, healing, sleeping. He was proud of his beautiful Isobel.
The moon rose, and finally, Eamon turned to go home, when he froze, his skin pricking with awareness. He rarely felt fear, his strength a monster even among the beasts, but the scent that wafted on the breeze was foreign. A scent of danger, of a threat. Eamon Stone took a deep breath, but there was no mistaking that smell. Another predator had entered Bajka. A predator he did not recognize.
* * *
