Page 72 of Evidence of a Folktale

“Shut Up.” The man swerved to avoid a pedestrian, and both women flinched at the near collision. If he didn’t slow down, he’d kill someone, and Bel couldn’t bear the prospect of being part of a hit and run, of hearing a body crack upon impact before they left it mangled on the asphalt. She also didn’t want to leave town, which, based on his directions, was their abductor’s plan. Chances of survival droppeddrasticallywhenvictims were movedto a second location…

But Eamon was tracking her phone.

Careful not to makeanysudden moves and alert their kidnapper to her betrayal, Bel slipped her cell from her pocket and laid it on the seat beside her. She turned the volume down instead of muting it. She needed him to hear her, not the other way around, and then she dialed Eamon’s contact.

“Isobel?”Eamon practically shouted into the phone when her number lit up his screen. Cops swarmed the hotel as they evacuated the hundreds of occupants, but he hadn’t been able to find her. He’d hung back during the signing to give Taron a chance toact,ifshe was the guilty party, and he cursed himself for his stupidity. Bel was missing, and Bajka didn’t have a bomb squad. They’d have to wait for experts to arrive from out of town unless he handled the explosive himself, but he refused to risk setting off the explosion while she was unaccounted for. She’d stepped on an IED once, and the sound of that pressure plate still haunted his nightmares. He was the son of the devil. Monsters like him never dreamed, yet when the darkness swallowed him, his mind forced him to watch Bel explode into nothing but tissue and fat until the terror woke him. One IED was enough. He wouldn’t risk blowing her to shrapnel ever again.

“Where are you?” he demanded into the phone, nausea curdling his stomach. He couldn’t scentheramidst thehorde of sweating bodies exuding their fear. He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t hear her, and the overwhelming panic threatened to render him unconscious. He wouldn’t survive her second death. He refused to pick up her splintered bones until he had enough to fill a coffin.

“Isobel, where are you?” he repeated when she didn’t answer. “Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“Where are you taking me and Miss Monroe?” Bel asked, her words distorted as if she’d dropped her phone onto the floor after dialing.

“Isobel? What’s going on?” He charged toward Griffin.

“Are you The Wolf?” Bel asked, but a muted male voice shouted for silence.

“He has her,” Eamon growled as he seized the sheriff’s biceps. “The Wolf has Isobel and Miss Monroe.” He tapped the speaker button so Griffin could hear Bel’s inconspicuous communication.

“Are you The Wolf?” her muffled voice repeated. “Are you the one who wrote all those beautiful letters?”

A car horn drowned out the man’s response, and atthe sound, Eamon clicked on Bel’s location.A map loaded, and the moving blue dot was all the confirmation he needed. “They’re in a car, and he’s leaving town… fast.” He tugged Griffin toward the exit.

“What?” The sheriff dug in his heels, forcing them to a halt. “There’s an active bomb threat in this hotel. I can’t leave,”

“There’s no bomb,” Eamon said. “The Wolf knew Isobel was watching Miss Monroe, and he needed a distraction to isolate the actress. Only now he has my girl too, so move.”

“Despite your convictions, I abide by the law,” Griffin protested. “A bomb threat is not something I can abandon.”

“And I can’t let Isobel get gutted in the woods.”Eamon dragged the sheriff outside, and thistime, the mortal couldn’t resist his ancient strength.“Gold, you take over,” he shouted at Olivia, and she scowled at him, readying to bite his head off for ordering her around when she saw Griffin’s face.

“Yes, sir,” she aimed the answer at her boss, and then Eamon shoved Griffin into the driver’s seat of his sheriff’s truck.

“Drive.” Eamon jumped into the passenger side. “I’m tracking Bel’s phone, so I’ll guide you.”

“Bomb threats and kidnappings,”Bel said, praying that the more damning her sentences were, the faster Eamon would understand her meaning. “This won’t end well for you.”

“Shut up,” The Wolf shouted. “I said shut up!”

“Bel, please,” Taron sobbed, recoiling against the car door to get as far from their kidnapper as possible.

“Listen to her,” The Wolf said. “And I’m so sorry, Taron. She’s ruining it.Ruining it, ruining it.” He repeated the phraseover and over, and Bel crossed her metaphorical fingers. He hadn’t planned for two victims, and she was digging her way under his skin. Aggravated criminals often got sloppy… or started pulling the trigger.

“You’re ruining it!” The Wolf exploded, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. At that exact moment, another car swerved in front of them, and he slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision. Bel flew forward, the seatbelt choking her as it jerked her to a halt, and she watched with horror as her phone catapulted off the seat.

“What was that?” he asked, straining his neck to see what had wedged between the seats. Bel lunged to recapture her device, but their kidnapper aimed herownweapon at her.

“Hand it over,” he demanded, and Bel wondered if she was fast enough to unbuckle her seatbelt and attack before he figured out that he needed to switch off the gun’s safety.

“I said hand it over.” The Wolf thumbed off the safety, and she sagged in her seat. So much for that idea. “Now, cop, or I will shoot you.”

Bel handed him her phone,thecall disconnected from the fall. It didn’t matter, though. Eamon had excellent hearing. He knew she needed him, and he could track her cell regardless of who’s hands held the device?—

“No!” Bel shouted, but her alarm was too late. The Wolf rolled down the window the second she placed her phone in his palm and launched it into the snowbanks. He increased his speed to a reckless pace, leaving her phone behind in his proverbial dust. And for the first time since she climbed out of the bathroom window, Bel felt the sharp claws of terror fist her gut. Eamon wouldn’t know where to search, and the cops were too busy with the bomb threat to care about a speeding car. No one was coming for them, and if Bel didn’t find an escape, she and Taron might end the day wearing red cloaks.

“She stopped.”Eamon grabbed the steering wheel to steady the car before holding the GPS up for Griffin to see. “She’s close. Turn here.”

Griffin expertly guided the truck around the bend before accelerating through the empty town.

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