Page 24 of Autopsy of a Fairytale

Hiding in her terror was something else. Something new and equally unnerving. The black eyes. Their severity haunted her, and her instincts recognized Eamon Stone as evil. Every cell in her bones knew that a thirst for darkness simmered beneath his skin. With every molecule that vibrated within her heart, she knew he wanted her, but that was not the unsettling part. No, what shook Bel to her core was the fact that while Eamon Stone was the monster she was bred to hunt, she couldn’t resist his call. He was her siren, her song in the deep.

“Cerberus?” Bel tossed her phone onto the bed and grabbed her leggings. “Want to go for a walk?”

The pitbull raced to the front door, tail whipping as if it was a propeller readying to launch him into flight. Bel laughed and shimmied into a sports bra before grabbing a tank top. It was hot outside, and revealing sportswear never used to embarrass her, but even running alone in the woods did not assuage her new insecurities over the scars that ran from her neck, down her chest to her stomach. They were thin pink stripes now, hardly noticeable, but she still let no one see them, so despite the heat, she donned long leggings and a shirt as armor.

Clicking on the dog’s harness, Bel shoved her feet into sneakers, and then the two of them exploded into the early morning air. This was her favorite part of living in Bajka. A workout in the city meant traffic and sidewalks and crowds, but here, it was endless trails and peace behind her house. She loved these moments with her dog and couldn’t imagine how frustrating it would be to lug a seventy-pound pitbull down four flights of stairs to the sidewalk just for a potty break.

The detective and her best friend plunged into the forest, and watching Cerberus chase squirrels, Bel almost forgot about her nightmares until the fur on the dog’s neck bristled. His bulky muscles went rigid, and then she felt it prick her skin with icy awareness. Someone was following them.

Bel and Cerberus’ eyes scanned the trees, but they were alone. There was no sound save her thundering heart. “Hello?” She clutched his leash tighter, but only the sounds of the forest answered her. They stood motionless for a moment, but when nothing happened, she gave the dog a gentle tug. “Come on, buddy, let’s go home.”

They turned back toward her cabin, but a twig snapped. Cerberus tensed, a low growl rumbling his throat, and the feeling of eyes on her skin increased. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Fear took over, screaming for her to run as a second snapping branch reached their ears.

It happened so fast; she couldn’t stop him. One instant, Cerberus was at her side, and the next, he was running, powerful legs pounding through the trees. The force of his escape wrenched the leash from her fist, and within seconds, the black dog vanished into the underbrush.

“Cerberus?” she yelled at his disappearing shape. “Come back!” She stepped in the direction he had fled, but a paralyzing evil slipped over her skin. Whoever was watching her was closing in, their sight almost a palpable grip on her wrists. Bel’s lungs constricted, her muscles tightened, and she bolted into a run. Gone was the sensible cop, replaced by raw instinct and terror. Fear pushed her forward, one foot pounding in front of the other. Escape. Escape. Escape. It was her mantra, her subconscious’ desperation to keep her alive.

Branches whipped at her face. Roots tripped her. Her voice screamed for Cerberus, but she was alone. He had left her to be hunted. She choked on her panic. The scar on her throat itched, yet the eyes watching her never yielded. They stalked her. Haunted her. She ran until her muscles ached, until her lungs burned, until her mind blurred.

Whack!Bel slammed into a solid obstacle so hard she yelped in pain, stumbling as her momentum bounced her backward. She teetered, her body tilting dangerously when a powerful hand cemented itself to her spine and yanked her forward. She smacked into the obstacle again, her cheek slapping against cool, sweaty skin, and she froze. The palm at her back held her firmly against the formidable figure towering above her, killing any attempt at escape, and as she gasped for breath with stinging lungs, she recognized the coiled muscles caging her in.

Her terrified eyes shot up and found death-black irises staring cruelly down at her. Blond, sweaty hair hung over his brow, his sharply angled jaw tilted dangerously close to her face despite his towering height. His bare chest breathed steadily against her rapidly heaving breast, and with an unsettling smirk, Eamon Stone lowered his head slightly and inhaled her scent.

“Detective Emerson.” He grinned with a wicked beauty, and Bel shoved his sweat-glistened abs away from her. The hand at her back resisted her escape long enough to make her panic before it released her.

“I was…” Her voice faltered. The sensation of someone following her had vanished, but she had run right into the arms of the devil himself. He was ungodly beautiful as he hovered before her, every inch of his bare skin sculpted for worship and sin, and she stepped backward again, putting a chasm of safety between them as if his beauty might carve her to pieces.

“Looking for him?” Eamon finished her sentence for her, his voice as deep as the ocean floor. Bel squinted at his words, and he jerked his chiseled jaw to his left. She followed his line of sight and simultaneously almost burst into relieved tears, an annoyed huff, and a good-natured laugh at what she found. Cerberus was sniffing a massive tree fifteen feet away before deciding to pee on it. He was completely unbothered by Eamon’s presence, and Bel’s gaze shifted warily between man and dog.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Beautiful dog,” he said with a damning smile, and at this close angle, Bel noticed his canines for the first time. His teeth were perfectly white and straight, a smile that undoubtedly cost him to achieve, but his canines stood out from the rest. They weren’t overly large. They didn’t protrude, and they were the same pristine color as the others, but they were slightly sharp, as if he had purposely asked the dentist to straighten all his teeth but leave those natural. They were oddly seductive, like a threat hidden in kind words. Everything about this man screamed danger from his deep voice to his enticing body, and Bel ripped her gaze from his tempting lips. She strode toward Cerberus, who had found yet another tree to pee on, and she captured his leash without an issue. The pitbull finally took notice of her, and he wagged his tail as if nothing had happened.

“Come on, baby beast.” She gently tugged his leash, desperate to flee Eamon’s unblinking stare. Cerberus obeyed immediately, but they only made it a few feet before Eamon’s rumbling voice shredded the silence.

“Detective Emerson?”

She should ignore him. She shouldn’t respond, but his orbit was impossible to escape, to resist, and Bel turned to face his hell black eyes.

“Be careful.” He smirked, showing off those beautifully sharp teeth. “You never know what kind of predators are out here.”

Eamon’s wordshaunted Bel for the rest of the day, throwing her off kilter. Someone was watching her, hunting her. And while Eamon’s presence so far from his home and so close to hers hinted that his black eyes were following her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fear he inspired, there was an aura of safety surrounding him. She did not doubt that his skin contained a monster, but it was as if he was the king of the darkness, and no evil would dare challenge his dominance. Bel knew she was not safe from Eamon Stone, but when she stood within his grasp, he would protect her from the demons fighting for her soul.

Bel had the distinct sense that while his warning was meant for her, it was also a foreboding of deaths yet to come. An evil had claimed Bajka as its hunting ground, and she feared that its long night had only just fallen. More would die before the sun of justice rose, and the air felt too calm, too still. They were in the storm’s eye. So, when the phone rang the next morning, waking her up, she knew.

“Emerson?” Sheriff Griffin’s voice sounded raw through the connection, and instantly, Bel understood the severity since he was calling and not Garrett.

“Sir,” she answered, her voice rough with sleep. “Where?” She didn’t need him to tell her it had happened again.

“The Ivory Keys.”

“On my way.” Bel fed and walked Cerberus at the speed of light before throwing on a clean pair of clothes. She would have to forgo coffee and breakfast, but she made it to the music shop in record time, the clock on her car dashboard reading 7:45 a.m. She knew for a fact The Ivory Keys kept 9-5 hours, so she was surprised someone had found a body this early until she saw him. Her heart leaped into her throat as he hovered in the shadows, dressed in black. His gaze found hers instantly, and he followed her every step as she moved toward the Sheriff. Unlike their other encounters, where his arrogance and dominance bled through his words and movements, Eamon seemed almost concerned as she arrived on the scene.

“Sheriff,” Bel greeted Griffin, trying to avoid the caress of Eamon’s gaze on her skin.

“Emerson.” The Sheriff’s voice was tight, his face drawn. Dread weighed heavily on both of them as Garrett parked and jumped from his vehicle.

“Victim is Victor Legat,” Griffin said as her partner joined them. “Owner of The Ivory Keys.”

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