Page 39 of Autopsy of a Fairytale

“Don’t fight it, my dear,” Alcina said, reaching an arm out, her hand clenched as if it was holding Bel in the air and not this strange unseen force.

“Put me down!” Bel spat.

“Or maybe you should fight,” the woman laughed. “He will enjoy the kill more.”

“What are you?” Bel thrashed against her invisible bonds, and Alcina squeezed her fist. Bel’s body constricted painfully, forcing her muscles to still.

“This?” Bel spat, afraid if the invisible hold tightened any more, her ribs would snap and puncture her lungs. The pressure was already almost unbearable. “This is how you killed them?” she wheezed. “No drugs, no defensive wounds.” Bel began to hyperventilate, the pain in her chest worsening. “This is why they didn’t fight back. Magic.”

“It’s such a shame you have to die. You are an incredible specimen.” Alcina shook her head. “Gorgeous, smart, resilient, but it must be done.”

“Why?” Bel coughed. “Why kill all those people? Why kill Garrett?”

“Because, my dear, he wasn’t doing what I wanted of him. I had to force his hand. Push you into his path. All that spilled blood. Seeing you in his new home. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he couldn’t control himself.” A twig snapped behind the women. Instinct twitched Bel’s neck to turn so she might see, but Alcina’s magic held her in place, causing her muscles to burn as they resisted her hold.

“It’s time,” Alcina said, a sickly smile plastered on her lips. “It will hurt, but it’ll be over soon.”

“Help me!” Bel screamed, despite knowing no one would hear her. Only she and Vera—or whoever this terrifying woman was—lived this far off the road. “Someone, help!”

Bel’s screams for aid turned into screams of agony as a piercing sharpness sliced through the flesh above her heart. She looked down in horror to watch as four wounds opened up on her chest, blood dripping down to her belly and soaking her shirt. With a strangled cry, Bel watched Alcina’s free hand raise into the air. Her fingers curled as if they were claws, and the pain ripped through Bel again as her skin tore further. Blood pulsed down her breasts, and her ribs groaned against the unseen pressure. She screamed at both the torture and the realization. They hadn’t been able to identify the weapon used to carve out the victims’ hearts because there had been none. It had been magic, an invisible force carving them open.

Bel screamed as the pain intensified. Her heart raced; the speed was too fast, too erratic for her to survive much longer. Sweat poured from her brow. Her fingers itched to clamp down over her ribs as if to keep the organ firmly in her chest, but she couldn’t move as she hovered over the earth, her blood slowly dripping down her belly to her pants.

Her vision blurred, and her hearing dulled. The tearing continued cell by cell, and when she was sure she could not endure the agony for another second, a hulking mass launched from the shadows with inhuman speed. The body of solid muscles slammed into her, and the two of them crashed to the dirt, bodies rolling over limbs. They jerked to a harsh jolt against a tree trunk, but Bel hardly felt the pain from the impact over the torture in her chest.

“That’s it,” Alcina soothed. “I prepared her for you. Made it easy. It's time to finish what we started.”

Eamon hovered over Bel, his black eyes somehow even darker as they stared at her. All traces of humanity were gone from his gorgeous face, replaced by pure, unadulterated hunger. He was an animal, a ravenous predator, and she was his wounded prey. Bel had never seen a human face so void of life, and it was his soulless stare that scared her more than Alcina’s brutal magic.

“Do it.” Alcina’s voice turned cruel. “Now.”

As if drugged by the sight of her blood, Eamon dragged a finger through one of Bel’s wounds and brought it to his lips. He sucked the crimson liquid off his skin, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he tasted her, and when his gaze found her again, a burning hunger raged in his irises. He gripped her biceps tight and thrust her harder into the ground, his body hovering over her with menace, and then he lowered his head to her bloodied chest, his sharp canines readying to rip her to shreds.

“Eamon,” Bel coughed through the pain as she weakly grabbed his face. “You don’t have to do this. You resisted once before. You can again.” She remembered every detail, as if the magic had unlocked the chains imprisoning her memories. Eamon Stone had been the man who almost killed her in New York, but he had also stopped himself. She didn’t understand the true gravity of her situation, but if he had fought whatever bloodlust this was before, perhaps he could now.

“Please,” she sobbed, her tears mixing with her blood. “Don’t do this.”

Eamon paused, his empty eyes studying her before he tightened his grip.

“Please, stop.” Bel pushed against his face, but he was too strong.

“He won’t stop, my dear,” Alcina laughed. “Not this time. You can fight all you want. It won’t change anything, although he might enjoy the struggle. Predators love the hunt.”

“Eamon, please.” She tried to knee him in the groin. She couldn’t die like this. It would destroy her father. “I don’t want to die,” she cried, and at her heartbreaking plea, Eamon looked up. A fraction of his humanity returned, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. His grip on her loosened slightly, but before he could release her, Alcina lunged forward, seizing the back of his neck.

“That’s enough!” Alcina roared as she drove Eamon’s face into Bel’s bloody chest, holding him there with inescapable force. For an unending second, Eamon hesitated, refusing to cave to the woman’s cruelty, but then he lost all control. His teeth sank into Bel’s flesh, and she screamed at the excruciating agony.

“Drink.” Alcina shoved her power around them in palpable waves, and Eamon’s bite increased. With each thrust of magic, his hold tightened. Bel’s voice poured out of her in terror, in pain, in sorrow, and with every scream, her decibels quieted as she died. She vaguely registered Eamon’s hands on her arms, pushing against her as he tried and failed to resist Alcina’s dominance, and as much as Bel wanted to hate him for taking her life, she realized that at this moment, he was as helpless as she was. He was killing her, and she knew by the way his fingers clung to her biceps, he didn’t want to. She didn’t want him to either. She wanted to see her dad one more time. And Cerberus. She wanted her dog. She loved that animal, and—

Cerberus?Surely Bel’s eyes were tricking her, because flying out of the darkness like a demon was her pitbull. The dog growled with a ferocity she had never heard from him, and he plowed into Alcina so hard, the force shook the ground. Cerberus didn’t stop as he dug his teeth into the blonde’s shoulder, and both witch and dog rolled violently to the forest floor.

The second Alcina’s hand released its unforgiving hold on his head, the magic evaporated, and Eamon ripped himself away from Bel’s flesh. He looked around wildly, drunk with blood, but the hollowness in his eyes had vanished, rage taking its place. He launched to his feet faster than humanly possible, and with powerful arms, he hauled Bel off the ground.

“Run,” he growled.

“I can’t.” Bel fell to her side.

“Run!” he shouted so loud in her ear, it was like an adrenaline shot to her heart, and she crawled on unsteady limbs to her hands and knees.

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