Page 109 of Evidence of a Folktale

“They must have selected your grandmother because of you,” she continued. “Did the deal demand an offeringwho meantsomething to the cast and crew? Did they choose your grandmother because you loved her? They didn’t want to sacrifice theirownfamilies, so they condemned a nobody. A lowly production assistant.”

“Yes” Rollo collapsed in on himself, and Bel let herself exhale. She was getting to him.

“They needed someone loved, otherwise the magic wouldn’t be powerful enough,” he continued. “I was nothing to them. Just some broke assistant with no family, save an old lady. So they butchered her and became famous while I suffered for six years. Six years!” His aggression swelled, and Bel feared she was losing him.

“I tried to bring my grandmother justice the legal way.” Rollo seized Beau’s shirt and positioned him as a human shield. Bel’s anxiety flinched, but she controlled her expression. Using the actor as a shield didn’t bode well for their outcome. Rollo wasn’t listening to her. He had no intentions of complying. He was preparing for a fight, and if Bel took him down, he intended Draven to die with him.

“I went to the police and presented proof, but it didn’t help,” he continued. “I gave them Grandma’s name, yet she’s still only known as Jane Doe. It was like they couldn’t hear me. The deal wouldn’t let me undo his work, so I became a cop.I thought ifI joined the force, I could influence change from the inside, but it was pointless. The show’s fame eclipsed all justice, so I took matters into my own hands. When I learned Bajka needed new deputies, I applied, and after I was hired, I reached out to my old contacts. I put the idea of filming here into their heads. I sent photos and my praises. I recommended holding the fan events here since a smaller town would be safer, and their greed fell for it. I had them eating out of the palms of my hand, and they lowered their guard. Gwen Rossa, Ellery Roja, Alistair Rot, Warren Rouge, and now Beau Reds. The five people who murdered my grandmother. I made them pay for the life they stole. I killed them the same way they heartlessly cut into her because I wanted them to be afraid, to know I was coming for them. I still have one more to punish for his sins.”

“Let me go!” Draven fought against Rollo’s hold. “Detective, do your job and get this lunatic off me.”

“Ethan,” Bel begged, irritated by Beau’s arrogance in the face of his guilt. “Please don’t do this. Let him go, and I’ll make sure he pays. You know me. I keep my word.”

“I do know you, Detective,” he said. “It’s why you need to leave. I don’t want to hurt you, but the deal won’t let you take Draven down. Any evidence you think you have against these five will never see the light of day. That devil is Aesop’s Files now, so death is the only way to make the guilty pay. I’m already going to hell for my crimes. What’s one more death on my hands?”

“Detective, get him off me!” Beau screamed.

“Ethan, don’t make me shoot you.” Bel raised her gun, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Beau Draven had murdered an innocent grandmother for the fickle future of fame. He deserved this fate, didn’t he? “You aren’t going to hell for your sins,” she continued. “These people are monsters. They deserve what they got, but don’t add anothermurder to your list. Let him go, and I’ll help you. I promise to do whatever’s needed, but youhave tolet him go.”

“Leave, Detective.”

“Please, Ethan, don’t do this.”

“I said leave, Bel!” he screamed, his body vibrating unnaturally.

“I can’t let you do this.” She aimed her gun.

“But I have to.” Rollo met her gaze, and the violence in his eyes made her stumble backward. It wasn’t human. “I’ve had enough talking,” he growled, his voice deepening with an unnatural tremor. “It ends tonight, Detective.Don’t get in my way.I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t let Beau Draven live. I’ll die before I let him go free.”

And with that, Rollo’s body burst apart, his skin splitting in the most gruesome display of gore… one that Bel had witnessed once before, and just like Ewan when he shed his human shell to inhabit the bear, Rollo’s flesh mutated into fur and claws until a wolf more monster than animal stood before her.

A Werewolf.

Ethan Rollo was a werewolf, and for a split second, Bel forgot to be afraid as the magnitude of this revelation settled over her. The claw-like wounds, the dog fur, the unnatural sent Eamon detected, and Bel’s memory rewound to the night they found the Matchstick Girls in their freezer. Eamon had slipped unseen onto the property to comfort her, but he’d sensed something inhuman. Bel had assumed it was the killer or Ewan, and then her kidnapping ensured she forgot their conversation, but it all came flooding back. He’d scented Rollo at that crime scene, just as he had on the bodies in the woods. Only she couldn’t remembera single momentwhen the men had crossed paths. Anytime her boyfriend was on set, the deputy had magically been assigned to the outdoor perimeter, and the one time he’d ventured inside to rescue Taron from the falling light, Eamon had been outside speaking Japanese to a client. Rolloclearlyrecognized the greater power and steered clear of him, and with supernaturals flocking to the events, Eamon’s senses were too overwhelmed to detect a distant wolf. What would’ve happened if Eamon had joined them at the bar? Would Rollo have suddenly grown ill and canceled?

“Holy—!” Beau screamed before a powerful blow silenced him, and Bel’s fearcame flooding back. Rollo was gone, a seven-foot werewolf in his place, and she no longer had the upper hand. When he was merely a deputy, she held the power. But now?

Rollo spun on her, fangs bared as he reared onto his hind legs. He wasn’t a wolf in a natural sense. He didn’t stand on all fours, nor did he resemble the ancestors of the household pet. He was a creature from a nightmare—both man and animal—with canines protruding from his snout and claws curving from his fingers, and Bel couldn’t tear her eyes away from their savagery. A custom prop weapon hadn’t killed his victims. He’d slaughtered them with his own hands, and by the crazed focus in his gaze, he’d set his sights on her for interrupting his final kill.

“Rollo, don’t!” she screamed as he charged, and with a prayer for forgiveness on her tongue, she pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed the werewolf in the shoulder, and he flew backward, crashing into the snow so hard that his body almost disappeared under the mountain of white.

“Draven, run!” she shouted as she reached under her coat and jammed the panic button. Why hadn’t she pressed it when the cell service went down? Would Eamon even get her alert if the phone didn’t work? Not that it mattered if he did. He’d never make it in time. His mansion was too far away, and Rollo was already moving.

“Draven, now!” She held her gun at the ready, their only hope of survival getting back to her car, and as she backed up through the snow, Eamon’s words played out in her head. He’d made her promise to step aside if the deal came for his last victim and proved toopowerfulfor her to combat. Their suspected killer had been wrong, but the sentiment was the same. Bel couldn’t fight a werewolf, and was a murderer’s life worth hers? Could she step aside and let someone die?Could shejuststand there watching as Rollo sliced through Beau and then leave him to bleed out?

“Draven!” Mind made up, she lowered her weapon and raced for her SUV. If he reached the car, she’d help, but if the wolf caught him first, she’d allow fate to punish him for his sins.

“What’s going on?” Draven screamed as he fumbled through the snow. “What did you give me? Did you drug me? You must have.” He stopped to gawk at the werewolf struggling to regain its footing. “You drugged me, and then refuse to help me? Youreallyare a?—”

Rollo’s roar cut him off as he surged to his feet, and Beau bolted for Bel. She paused, gun aimed as she tracked the creature’s movements, but just before he reached her, Rollo coiled his legs below him and leaped.

Bel couldn’t stop her scream as the werewolf sailed over their heads, and with a jolt like thunder, he landed behind her, cutting off her escape to the cars. Bel slipped on the snow, her knee collapsing as she struggled not to fall on her face, and then she took off running in the opposite direction, her weapon aimed at the creature. She fired two shots, neither finding their target, andshegrabbed Draven by the arm. She should let Rollo have him. Let the wolf exact his revenge, but then the world would view Beau as a martyr and not the murderer he was. Bel wouldn’t let him die here to become a legend. He was going to live and stand trial. He would have to face his fans as they learned he was a monster.

“Let him go!” Rollo’s voice was so cruelly guttural that tears pricked Bel’s eyes involuntarily, and she twisted, firing off a fourth shot. This one found a home in the wolf’s shoulder, but instead of slowing him down, Rollo leaned into the blow and leaped for her. Bel screamed as the wind whistled at her back, as the tip of Rollo’s claws sliced through the fabric of her coat, and she braced for the pain. She braced for the end, but before his claws dug into her flesh, a shadow with inhuman speed burst through the trees. The figure collided with the wolf with such force that bones audibly snapped, and she tripped over Beau, tumbling to the ground as war broke out.

“What the—?” he started, but Bel slammed his face into the snow.

“Shut up,” she snarled, climbing on top of him to handcuff his arms behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent, so shut up!” She’d finish reciting the Miranda Warning when death didn’t hang so heavy in the air, and the minute Beau was secured, she rose to her feet and spun toward the violence.

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