Page 22 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“Wendy, remember,” Bel spoke over her hysterics. “Call Sheriff Griffin of the Bajka Police Department. Tell him Bel sent you.”

“What?”

“Say it, Wendy. Say you’ll call him.”

“Sheriff Griffin.” Wendy’s voice shook. “I will.”

“I need to go.” Bel hung up and shoved the phone into her pocket before pulling herself closer to Eamon. Her hands roamed his back as he carried her deeper into the wooded acres that surrounded the mansion. “Are you hurt?” she repeated. “Did it get you?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted as her fingers found only the solid fabric of his tee shirt. “I was already in motion this time, so my momentum forced me beyond the blast before it detonated. This is why you aren’t walking.” He pulled her tighter to reinforce his statement.

“This means we’re going in the right direction.”

“I know. Keep your eyes peeled. He won’t make finding Michael easy, but something out here is large enough to serve as his drowning tank.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Bel hugged him tight as she granted herself thirty seconds of fear. Thirty seconds to freak out over almost witnessing Eamon be ripped apart again, and she buried her nose into his throat. His cool skin smelled like home, like her reason to live, and for those seconds, she allowed herself to panic. To be utterly terrified of not surviving the day, of being forced to live without Eamon if he sacrificed himself to The Tinker’s traps to save her or Michael. For thirty seconds, she pressed her lips against his pulse to feel his heartbeat. Ilove you. I love you. I love you.Sheheld her arms around his neck to prove she would never let this man go.

“Maybe there’s a structure that fell out of use as the estate modernized?” Bel said after her thirty seconds expired, and she forced herself to scan their surroundings for clues.

“Something like that?” Eamon nodded ahead of him, and she followed his gaze, squinting as they approached a clearing at the base of the small mountains that bordered the property. Much like the woods that flanked her cabin, the Darling Estate boasted endless acres of beautiful nature and hiking trails, and it seemed the stretch of trees The Tinker had led them through ended at one such hiking route.

“Like what?” she asked

Eamon pointed with his eyes. “There to the left. Looks like a cellar door built into the dirt.”

“A root cellar?” Bel strained to see what he was talking about, but her senses were no match for his. “What’s it doing here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Old estates like this and Reale functioned differently in the past,” Eamon offered. “This could have been the site of tenanthousing or servant homes. There are plenty of reasons an old cellar might be abandoned.”

“It’s certainly out of the way. It would be easy for Pann to work here undetected,” Bel said as he lowered her to the grass. “What do you think? Is Michael here? Can you hear the water?”

“No, but if Pann plans on flooding the cellar, he would have had to reinforce and seal it as well as add pipes,” he answered, angling his body before hers so he could test the ground first. “The extra insulation could explain why I can’t hear anything yet.”

“If Michael isn’t here, we’re out of time.” Bel pulled her gun from the waistband of her pants and clicked off the safety as the cellar door finally came into view. The clearing appeared empty, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Not with the stakes so high and their timeline coming to a swift close.

“He’s here,” Eamon said, picking up his pace. “You don’t reinforce an abandoned cellar door for no reason.”

Bel peaked around his mountain of a shoulder to see what he meant. The angled door was built into a mound of dirt and grass, and while she was no construction expert, it was obvious the metal was brand new and impenetrable.

“How did he manage this without the family knowing?” she asked as Eamon reached behind him and pressed his palm against her stomach to halt her movement. “How did he build this on their property without raising alarms?”

“Not everyone is you,” Eamon answered as he scanned the area. “Not everyone is as smart or as observant. Plus, with the grief of losing both parents and the reassurance that Pann passed their background checks, they probably didn’t feel the need to monitor his every move. This stretch of the estate is secluded, and the surrounding mountains offer hikers an alternative entrance to the property. Working here unseenwould be easy enough for someone who was acquainted with the family’s schedule and held Pann’s security clearance.”

“I can’t imagine what Wendy is going through. She trusted this man.”

“But now she’s put her trust in you.” Eamon pinned her with a meaningful stare. “Come on. I see nothing concerning.” He stalked forward, carefully picking his path, and Bel followed, weapon at the ready. But when she saw the cellar door, all thoughts of self-defense evaporated.

“No! No! No!” Her voice poured out of her in waves as she seized the handle and yanked, but it was to no avail. This door would never open. “He didn’t just install a reinforced door. He sealed it to the frame!” Her gaze flew to Eamon’s, the rush of blood thundering through her ears so loud it was deafening. “He welded it shut!” She kicked at the useless hinges, tears welling in her eyes as despair flooded her. This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after Pann’s traps almost killed them in their search for the boys. “The fire department will never arrive in time to cut through the metal.” She ran a hand through her disheveled hair, the gun hanging limp and forgotten from her other fist. “It’s all a game. One that’s been rigged so we lose.”

“So that humans lose.” Eamon captured her waist and lifted her out of the way. “But I’m not human.”

And with that resounding declaration, Eamon Stone gripped the handle of a door welded into its frame and pulled it apart as if it were fragile glass and not reinforced metal.

The door warpedas Eamon ripped it free, its twisted deformity a testament to his power, and for a fraction of a second, fear pulsed through Bel. Who was this man she’d aligned herself with? Who was this monster she’d placed her trust in? For thirty-four years, she’d believed creatures like him were myths, beasts conjured from depraved imaginations to fill stories with terror, but evil was real. It inhabited flesh and walked among humanity, and one such predator had wormed his way beneath her skin. She thought she understood what he was, thought she understood what caring for him meant, but after watching him survive that blast and rip a thick metal door from its welded hinges, she realized she knew little about the man she’d allowed into her heart.

Eamon cursed, the harsh sound yanking her from her paralysis, and she stepped closer to him, finally catching sight of what lay inside the cellar.

“The water’s increased,” he said. “Breaking open the door seemed to trigger a failsafe. He’s flooding it faster.”

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