Page 43 of The Girl He Wanted

"Not yet," Christopher admitted. Paige could hear the reluctance in his voice, and she thought that she could understand why.

"Christopher, I know you want to get back to DC. I know you want to get into a room with Anne Dawson and get answers out of her. Believe me, I want the same thing, but I really don't think that we're done here."

Paige caught the flicker of pain that crossed Christopher's face with those words.

"Paige, I know you're trying to be thorough, but we have to follow the evidence," Christopher said, his voice firm. "We have a confession from Dr. Kostopoulos, and we have physical evidence in the blood on the model. We can't ignore that."

"Kostopoulos only said that he'd done something wrong, and that he'd written the murders," Paige insisted. "He's obviously linked to all of this in some way, but that doesn't necessarily make him the murderer. What if ... what if someone read his book and decided to recreate it? What ifthat'swhy he felt so guilty tonight? What if he threw himself off the building because he thought it would complete the pattern and stop this?"

"That's a lot of what ifs," Christopher pointed out. "We can't just ignore what happened here tonight."

"I'm not saying we should ignore it," Paige countered. "I'm just saying that there might be more to this than we think. We need to keep digging."

"And what if we don't find anything?" Christopher asked. "What if this leads nowhere? We can't keep chasing shadows."

Paige sighed. She knew that Christopher was right. They couldn't keep going in circles, trying to find something that might not be there. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this case than they had uncovered.

"Please, Christopher, I'm asking you to trust me. If there's one thing I know, it's the mindset of killers, and I truly don't believe that Dr. Kostopoulos was the killer."

Christopher hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, Paige. I trust your instincts. For now. But let's not ignore the evidence we have either. We need to keep investigating and find out exactly what happened here."

Paige nodded, feeling relieved that Christopher was willing to keep looking for answers. "Agreed. Let's keep going."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

It was important to pick out the right victim, the right sacrifice to the winds. She had to embody some of the qualities of the deity she was meant to represent, or this wouldn't work properly.

He'd been fascinated with Dr. Kostopoulos's work for as long as he could remember now. The obsession started as an innocent interest in Ancient Greek mythology, something anyone might stumble into, but it soon turned into something much darker. He had found himself drawn to the Tower of the Winds, the intricate details of the figures and symbols, and the idea of the winds being controlled by a deity.

He had read Dr. Kostopoulos's books multiple times, trying to understand the man's mind and his obsession. It had quickly become clear to him that he could go further than the message of unlocking some metaphorical tower within himself. By making the right sacrifices in the right places, he could draw something of the power of the winds to himself. He would become more; he would become powerful in a way that he had never felt in his life prior to this.

He would become free.

The life he'd had before he learned about the Tower of the Winds had been a pitiful thing. He'd been weak, easily cowed, eager to please others. Now, he was strong. Now, he was someone to be afraid of.

He sat in his car outside Zelda Mackie's apartment, waiting for her to come down. He knew that she would do it, despite the storm. She would be his Zephyrus, gentle and favorable, easy to appease. She was a kindergarten teacher, young and pretty, blonde-haired and blue eyed, with a smile that lit up her entire face. He had seen her walking to work multiple times, and she had caught his eye immediately. He’d seen the potential in her, known the role that she would ultimately play.

As he watched her step out of the building, he felt his heart rate increase with excitement. This would be his fourth sacrifice, the completion of the four winds, the most important step towards his ascension. He might fulfil the full eight in time, but the cardinal points … they were what mattered. He quickly got out of the car and started to follow her, staying far enough behind so as not to raise suspicion until he was ready to act.

He had the syringe in his pocket, ready to use. The ropes were waiting in the trunk of his car, both to bind her and to hoist her into position to make the sacrifice. He'd already picked out the perfect spot in the west of Winterly, one that would display her to the world, to the gods, to everyone.

Would he get to see the police running around again, dragged in by his efforts? It was exhilarating to watch them try to connect the dots, to see them struggle and fail to understand the true purpose behind his actions. He was careful, meticulous, leaving behind no traces of evidence that would lead back to him. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that.

As he followed Zelda down the street, he felt a sense of serenity wash over him. He was doing the work of the gods, fulfilling a destiny that had been written for him long before he was born. He was their chosen one, their messenger, their disciple.

He watched as she turned down a quiet alleyway, and he quickened his pace. This was the spot. She always took this route, and he was ready to seize his moment. It was time.

He took out the syringe and approached her from behind, his footsteps quickening. Even as he did it, though, he saw her turning, and now, her expression looked neither mild nor favorable.

"What do you want, you creep? You think I haven't seen you looking at me before?"

She should have run; she should have turned and sprinted as fast as the wind that she was to be a sacrifice to, rather than trying to confront him.

He lunged forward. She struck out at him, but he moved inside the blow. He had already started to become stronger. He was more than strong enough to do this. He grabbed Zelda, clamping a hand over her mouth so that she couldn't scream for help as he injected her neck with the sedative.

She continued to fight for several moments, swinging punches at him that he didn't feel. Those punches quickly lost their power though, and soon her body went limp in his arms.

He hoisted her over his shoulder and made his way back to his car, feeling the weight of her body against him. She was lighter than he expected. He stuffed her into the trunk then, tying her tightly so that there would be no chance of her getting away. He didn't waste any time, quickly binding her hands and feet together with the ropes he had prepared. He closed the trunk of his car and got in the driver's seat, starting the engine with a sense of purpose.

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