Page 62 of Investigation of a Quest

“I don’t know what your grievance with this wolf is, but if he’s willing to fight for us, then we’d be fools to turn him away,” West said. “I am one witch. I’m helpless to stop Morrigan, but with a dhampir, a shifter, and a werewolf, your detective stands a greater chance of survival. And the dhampir is right. We cannot let my coven leader live. Binding her isn’t good enough. She’ll eventually escape, and next time, I might not be here. Next time, there might not be such unheard-of peace between three alpha predators. This is our only chance at stopping her.”

“I heard what you did to those Aesop’s Files cast and crew members,” Reese finally chimed in. “But I heard you did it to avenge your grandmother’s unsolved murder.”

“You heard correctly,” Ethan said.

“So you understand how I feel about my daughter being killed as a sacrifice,” Reese said.

“More than you could ever know.”

“So you’ll help us?”

“I will,” Ethan swore.

“Then he stays,” Reese said. “I don’t care what he did in his past. You can deal with his sins once Bel is safe. But for now, the werewolf—I can’t believe I’m saying this—but the werewolf stays. My youngest has been offered up on a silver platter too often for this town. We will do what is necessary to bring her home.”

“But we have to find her first,” Ewan said. “It doesn’t matter how many alpha predators we fight alongside. If we don’t know where Bel is, we could accidentally walk into the trap without realizing it. She could enslave Eamon before we ever pick up her trail.”

“Get up.” Dorothy stormed into the makeshift concrete prison, and Bel flinched at the sudden death of her solitude. For four days, she’d been locked inside this room, and for four days, her anxiety had been her only companion. A box filled with shelf-stable food and bottled water sat in one corner, and a crude toilet in the other. Sanitary wipes and the cot ensured she never needed to leave the room, nor did anyone have to come inside. She’d been utterly alone, silence and dread shrinking the walls in on her with every second, but she never fought. She didn’t attempt an escape. She wouldn’t help Eamon walk into a trap.

“No.” Bel didn’t move from her seat on the cot.

“Don’t get cute with me.” Dorothy grabbed her biceps and yanked her to her feet so forcefully that Bel had to grind her teeth to stop the scream. She wouldn’t give this witch the satisfaction of witnessing her suffering.

“It was fun, at first, to watch your friends pretend that you’re out of town while they blindly scramble around Bajka searching for you,” she continued as she dragged Bel through the unfamiliar building. “But now it’s aggravating. I assumed bringing you here would be obvious, but for such a smart woman, your partner is an idiot.”

“Here?” Bel asked, her voice rough with disuse. “Where’s here?” She scanned her surroundings, but all she saw were pipes and concrete. It was some sort of industrial building, and she couldn’t imagine why Dorothy expected Olivia to find this generic location.

“Maybe you’re not as smart as everyone claims you are, either.” The witch dragged her into the cold sunlight, and Bel almost cried at the sting in her eyes. Trapped inside her windowless room, she’d forgotten sunshine had existed.

“Wait…” Bel’s pace slowed as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. “The warehouse you shipped the tin man’s suit to.”

“I led you both right here,” Dorothy said. “It’s the only location I gave you, yet your partner hasn’t so much as thought of this address. Watching your friends panic is no longer fun, so we’re going to help them along.” She pulled Bel to a stop as she withdrew a blade from a small sheath, and Bel reared back, sunshine forgotten. She was going to kill her, but it was too soon. Eamon hadn’t come for her… had he? Was he here? Was he racing to an end Bel couldn’t stop?

“Oh, calm down.” Dorothy jerked her so hard that her head snapped backward. “I’m not killing you yet. I’m just dropping a few breadcrumbs for your dhampir to find.” She released Bel’s arm to grab her wrist and lift it to the blade, and Bel saw the doomed future play out before her eyes. Eamon would catch her scent and come charging. He didn’t know that this witch could curse him from afar. He would race to save Bel, but it would be a race to his annihilation. Earth would burn, and mankind would end. All because a blade slid across her arm and dropped blood onto the gravel.

Bel stared at her extended limb. Dorothy barely held her. She could break free. She could run. She wouldn’t make it more than a few steps, though. Not with a witch at her back, but an idea crept into her brain, and she lifted her gaze to Dorothy’s face. She might be a woman of magic, but had she ever been in a fistfight? Had she ever been punched in the face? Bel had. She knew how to take a blow. She knew how to deliver one even better, but that was of no consequence if the witch was impervious to pain. She would recover faster than a human, but even witches could fall prey to the element of surprise, right? They could experience shock. They could experience bloody noses. It wouldn’t stop her, but Bel didn’t need it to. She wasn’t trying to escape. She just needed a head start. She could end this if she only secured a head start, and that started with shock.

So Bel yanked her wrist free before Dorothy dragged the blade across her skin and punched her in the nose. Hard. Too hard. And she didn’t stop.

Something in her own hand cracked as Dorothy’s nose sprayed blood, and Bel knew it was a matter of seconds before the witch retaliated with magic. So she abandoned the advantage shock gifted her and bolted into the industrial park, searching for the right building. If Dorothy raced after her, her plan would fail, but the witch was arrogant and far more powerful than a feeble human escape. There was no freedom. There was no hope. But Bel wasn’t trying to escape. She didn’t need hope. She just had to get there first.

“Why do you insist on making this difficult?” Dorothy shouted, her voice coming from where she’d left the woman. Good. She hadn’t moved. She didn’t feel the need for urgency. “You cannot escape me. Your dhampir can’t win against me. It would be better for everyone if you just accepted your fate. Why bring unnecessary pain to yourself and the ones you love?”

Bel didn’t answer. Instead, she ran faster when her eyes landed on a half-finished construction. It was tall enough to serve her purpose, so she angled toward the skeleton and pushed through its long-undisturbed debris.

“Fine!” Dorothy roared after her. “But when you beg for death, know that your pain is your own doing. I was going to make your ending quick, but I warned you what would happen if you fought back. Your father is in town. He’ll be the first person I skin alive after I enslave your dhampir.”

Bel froze halfway up the flight of stairs. Her dad? He was in Bajka? Nausea washed over her, but it only hardened her resolve. This was the only option. Not just for Eamon, but for her family too. She wasn’t a fool. Dorothy wouldn’t stop with her father. The witch would make sure everyone Bel ever cared about, her young nieces and nephews included, would suffer. It didn’t make what she had to do any easier. It didn’t give her peace about her fate, but it did give her the courage to pick up her feet and keep running until she reached the top floor of this wall-less building.

“Where did you think you were going to go?” Dorothy’s voice sounded behind her, and Bel flinched. How had she caught up to her so quickly?

“There’s no escape up here.” Dorothy gestured to the open sky. “You break free from me, and this is where you run? You’ve trapped yourself.” She wiped the blood off her face and extended her stained fingers to Bel. “All this just to trap yourself.”

“I’m not trying to escape.” Bel’s voice shook. She wasn’t brave enough to do this… was she? The sheer drop to the gravel was dizzying. “Not in the way you expect, at least. I know how this plays out. The second Eamon comes for me, you’ll curse him. No matter what, I don’t make it out of this alive, but he can.” She inched closer to the edge, her stomach revolting so violently that she wasn’t sure she could remain upright. “I might have to die, but you don’t get to use my death to destroy the person I love most. You don’t get to use it to shackle the world.” Bel slid her toes over the edge. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn’t.

She had to.

“If I’m dead,” she whispered, since it was all her fear could manage, “you can’t enslave him. No other sacrifice would have the same power, so without me, you’re dead. Without me, everyone I love lives. I hope he makes your death slow.”