Page 30 of Forensics of a Fable

Bel had returned home well after midnight, and after letting her pitbull outside to pee, she’d collapsed in bed, barely surviving long enough to dump food in his bowl. He had graciously let her sleep, but the second her alarm when off, he’d raced to the door and tapped his leash with his nose every thirty seconds until she pulled on her athletic wear. She didn’t mind the thought of exercise, though. After sitting at her desk all day yesterday, working through both her lunch and dinner breaks, she longed to stretch her legs. Her hips were killing her after the immobility, and she needed the movement, even if they stayed close to the cabin.

Cerberus blew out of the door the second she opened it, and together they raced into the beautiful morning. It wasn’t long before she was sweating from her dog’s pace, but she didn’t mind. It felt good to breathe the fresh air instead of the scent of police station coffee, half-eaten potato chips, and her own stress sweat.

Movement caught the corner of her eye as a mass settled into a run beside her, and she smirked as Cerberus jumped to reach Eamon’s hand. The dangerously beautiful man scratched his head, never breaking stride, and without a word, the three of them jogged into the woods. As if understanding their guardian was present, Cerberus took the lead, guiding them further from home until they came to a peaceful clearing full of wildflowers.

“Did you know this was here?” Bel asked as Cerberus slid to his belly, his legs stretched out as he tried to cool down.

“No,” Eamon said with a hint of awe in his voice, his broad palm slipping to the small of her back as they caught their breath. His eyes shifted to her scars, tracing them to her chest, and Bel watched him take notice of her revealing outfit. It was still warm as summer died to pave the path for fall, and while she always used to exercise fully covered to hide her marks, she had started to wear tank tops, embracing her flaws instead of hidingthem. For a long moment, Eamon studied her, his emotions locked away as he realized what her tiny top meant, and then with careful fingers, he lifted the hem to bare her mid-drift. Bel froze, confused by his actions, until his fingers brushed over the thin scars on her stomach. He studied the lines with an agonized sorrow etched on his handsome face, and she captured his hand, pressing his palm flat against her skin.

“They’ve healed well,” she said. “The plastic surgeon did an excellent job with the reconstruction.”

“He better have,” Eamon said. “He cost a fortune.”

“He…?” Bel looked up at him. “You paid for him?”

“Of course I did.” He said it as if that fact was obvious. “I couldn’t let you walk around disfigured for my sins. I hired the nation’s foremost specialist to fly in and perform your surgeries.”

“I always wondered why that plastic surgeon took my case. He claimed it was Pro Bono since an NYPD detective was a worthy candidate, but his explanation rang hollow. Things didn’t add up.”

“I didn’t want you or your father to know I paid for the surgeries.” Eamon remained attached to her, one palm on her back and the other on the bare skin of her belly. “I was still cursed, and if your family learned I hired the surgeon, they would have wanted to meet me. I couldn’t be around you. I didn’t want to hurt you again, especially since the thirst was so strong after the initial attack.”

“Is it still strong? Do you still crave me?”

“Every day.” He lowered his nose to her hair and breathed in deep, and much to Bel’s relief, he didn’t recoil at her scent. “But this is different. Under the curse, I wanted to kill you. To drink you dry. Now I simply want to be around you, to have a taste, to witness your beauty and watch you live. Your goodness is a balmfor my soul, and being in your presence is a privilege I’ll never take for granted.”

“If anyone heard you talk about me.” Bel smirked and walked into the clearing, breaking their contact. She bent and picked a wild flower, tucking it behind her ear. “So now that my dad went home, you’re back to following me?” She turned to face him, feeling guilty about how much she enjoyed the longing etched into his features. His adoration affected her in ways she hadn’t expected but welcomed all the same. She’d been so insecure about her scars. The surgeon had done an impeccable job, but no amount of skill could undo her marred skin. She had worried she would never feel beautiful with the pink lines dancing over her flesh, but watching Eamon drink in the sight of her like she was the rarest jewel made her want to run to the store and buy more skimpy tank tops. He studied her scars often, but never in a way that made her hate them. Guilt plagued him at his part in hurting her while under Alcina’s curse, but there was something else in his eyes that overpowered his shame, and the desire that rippled through his body made Bel feel all-powerful and divine.

“Of course.” He crossed his arms, his chest flexing with every movement. “A killer hunts these woods, and you decide to go for a run anyway. Your dog is a loyal protector, but he isn’t enough. Not for someone so precious.”

Bel rolled her eyes but stepped back into his welcoming personal space, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Cerberus stood up to explore. “The sheriff still considers you a person of interest.”

“I figured, but I’m careful. No one sees me watching you except for you and Cerberus, and you don’t mind the company. I crept right up on you, and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

“I know what your presence feels like. Is it because of what you are that I always recognize you?”

“Perhaps, and if you ever sense someone who isn’t me, I need you to run. Also, remember to listen to your dog. He’s an excellent judge of character.”

“Yes, Dad.” Bel swatted his bare abs with an amused chuckle.

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t survive if anything happened to you, and I’ve grown fond of that pitbull. I want you both safe, and I don’t particularly enjoy the thought of Cerberus finding another body in these woods like the vet’s dog did.”

“How did you know about that?” Bel asked. “You know what? Never mind. Don’t tell the lead detective something that will force her to drag you into the station again.”

Eamon smirked, tugging her closer, and she slipped an arm around his waist before she fully realized what she was doing. It felt so easy with him, so natural, and she wished he wasn’t the beast she knew he was. What would it be like if Eamon Stone was a normal human man she could let herself fall for?

“Wait…” She froze. “How did I not put it together?”

“Put what together?” He looked down at her in confusion.

“Pentobarbital.”

“Excuse me?”

“The killer used Pentobarbital on the victims.” Bel pulled herself from his grasp and stared at him with a terrifying sternness. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone, or I could lose my job.”

“I’m someone you can trust. You know that.”

“Poison is a woman’s weapon,” Bel said, ignoring his comment. She shouldn’t trust him, yet she did. She trusted him more than anyone else in this town. “We assumed the killer was a man, but a vet found the second victim. A vet who hikes these woods every day to exercise her dog. Pentobarbital is commonly used in veterinary hospitals.” She stared at Eamon with wide eyes. “I have to go.”

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