Page 59 of Investigation of a Quest

“Depends,” West said. “She won’t want to waste the detective on anyone but the dhampir, but I’m sure she has contingency plans for people like me and the shifter.”

“Right, so she’s going to be focused on Eamon, Ewan, and you,” Griffin said, his hand still clutching Eamon’s, but neither man made any move to separate. “You three can’t get close, but what about humans?” He swallowed, his fear pulsing through his grip to bleed into Eamon’s skin. “What about me?”

“You’re hoping he kills you?” Bel asked. She’d just threatened Dorothy with an excruciating death, and the witch simply smirked as if she welcomed the bloody end. And that’s when it clicked. Bel had been here before. She knew how this story ended.

“You weren’t punishing those men for disturbing your resting place,” she whispered. “You were harnessing their organs for black magic. You’re here for Eamon.”

“Everyone says you’re smart.” Dorothy leaned against the concrete wall.

“The yellow brick…” Bel felt sick as she remembered the darkness leaking from the stone when she first touched it, and how the nameless witch had glanced behind her last night before the attack. The woman from the crime scenes wasn’t the killer. She’d been trying to stop Dorothy from taking Bel. “It wasn’t a tomb or a temple, was it? It was a prison. That witch in the woods… did she trap you there?”

“My coven did, yes,” Dorothy said. “I already killed her sister for it. Dropped a house on her head.” She smirked when Bel’s eyes widened at the connection. “But Morana has been harder to catch. She’s been trying to warn you and your dhampir, but I got to you first. Not that I was worried. You had no idea who I was. Just like Leo Craven, you would’ve opened your doors to a fellow officer.”

“So what am I?” Bel asked. “Bait? Are you here to kill the Impaler?”

“No, honey, I am not here to kill your beast,” Dorothy said. “I’m here to take what you have, for you’ve done what no one has ever dared try. You control Dracula’s son, and that makes you the most powerful being in the world.”

“I don’t control him,” Bel said. How had Eamon missed Dorothy’s involvement? How had her power gone so unnoticed? Bel thumbed through her memory, realizing the only witch he ever saw was the woman Dorothy called Morana. Every crime scene reeked of magic, meaning he wouldn’t have noticed Bel’s proximity to a witch. He would’ve assumed it came from the investigation, and this fake deputy was smart. Even on the nights Eamon attended the haunted house judgings, Dorothy had never crossed his path. She’d always disappeared the minute he approached, leaving Morana the only witch for him to scent. She’d hidden in plain sight, letting the other witch take the fall for her presence.

“You don’t control him?” Dorothy raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward. “Tell me, if you asked for something, would he get it for you?”

“Yes, but⁠—”

“No matter the cost, would he get it for you if you but asked?”

Bel refused to answer. She didn’t like where this was going.

“When you call, doesn’t he drop everything and come to your aid? If you’re in danger, doesn’t he rush to your side?”

“That’s love, not control,” Bel said.

“If you asked him to take a life, wouldn’t he kill without hesitation?”

“I wouldn’t⁠—”

“If you asked him to kill me, would he so much as blink?” Dorothy challenged. “Because you already threatened my life. You promised he would come for you and rip my head from my body. You know as well as I do that all you have to do is ask, and he’ll kill for you. Do you understand the power you hold? Do you understand what you control? Dhampirs were created by mistake. They were supposed to be slaves to serve the vampires, but their ancestors, in all their bloodlust, didn’t realize they were breeding their undoing. Vampires had weaknesses, but their half-breed children? They don’t have weaknesses… until this one. You. Your dhampir holds you above all else, and that’s how I’ll take him from you. You’re a mortal human. You are nothing. You are not worthy to command such power, but me? I’ll claim the control you so carelessly wield, and he will make me a god.”

“He’ll never serve you,” Bel spat, confident in her upper hand. “I wear the scars of this curse. Another tried to claim him, but he couldn’t kill me. If he resisted two years ago, imagine how he’ll fight now that he loves me? I don’t care how powerful you think you are. Eamon won’t hurt me.”

“Oh, honey, again, you are wrong.” Dorothy captured Bel’s jaw in her fingers and forced her to meet her gaze. “I am not weak like whatever witch tried before me. I don’t need your beast to drain you dry. I just need him to come for you, and I will slit your pretty, scarred throat myself.”

“And lastly, Detective Emerson is dealing with a family emergency, so she’ll be out for the next few days,” Sheriff Griffin lied as he closed out the morning briefing. If Bel was being held captive by an ancient, power-hungry witch, he didn’t need his very human deputies searching for a kidnapped officer. One detective being offered as a sacrificial lamb was nightmare enough. He didn’t need any more blood shed upon this altar of chaos.

“Deputy Dorothy has been working this case with us, so she’s agreed to step in until Emerson returns,” he continued, gesturing to the officer standing at the back of the room, and the woman gave a friendly wave. “Please address all issues concerning this case to her and Gold, and be careful. We still have a killer on the loose. Dismissed.”

The officers dispersed as Griffin crossed the room to shake Dorothy’s hand. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“Of course.” Dorothy cupped their hands with her free one, but her kindness only dug the knife deeper into Griffin’s chest. This deputy was smart and kind, but no one could ever replace the surrogate daughter he’d gained when an aimless NYPD detective moved to his town. And if he lost her…

He shut that thought down. They had a plan. He knew nothing of ancient curses, but he knew Eamon. He couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying than that man’s devotion to Bel.

“I just hope everything is okay with Bel’s family,” Dorothy continued. “This case has confirmed that I like my very sleepy, small town. I don’t want her job.”

“I don’t want to give you her job,” Griffin thought. “She’s fine,” he said instead. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Good.” Dorothy smiled.

“Thanks again.” Griffin patted her shoulder.