Page 20 of Investigation of a Quest

“That’s not exactly a smoking gun,” Olivia said. “You, my friend, are the only person in history who took one look at him and ran toward him, not away… no offense, Eamon.”

“None taken,” he smirked. “You aren’t wrong. A witch running from me is one of the most normal interactions I’ve had with their kind, especially since Halloween and spooky events like this haunted house contest draw supernaturals in droves. They love the freedom to be themselves while everyone assumes it’s a costume, and they all know to steer clear of me. This is my town, and even if it weren’t, I’ve never tolerated others of power. Crossing paths with me is the fastest way to lose your head… was,” Eamon corrected when Olivia gawked at him. “Bel frowns on me killing without reason, but I don’t advertise that. They need to be afraid of me. It keeps them in line.”

“Maybe you need to be scarier,” Olivia said. “No one in this town likes to behave.”

“Tell me about it.” Bel took Eamon’s hand as he rolled his eyes.

“So we’ve established that a witch fleeing Eamon isn’t unusual, but you wouldn’t be here if you two weren’t worried.” Olivia pointed at the towering blond. “What am I missing?”

“My first case here,” Bel said, and together, she and Eamon recounted Alcina Magus’ plan to use Bel’s death as a sacrifice to enslave the dhampir to her will, highlighting the similarities between the two cases. One stole the victim’s hearts, and the other stole various organs, but they both built humans into monstrous spectacles. What’s more, organs were often used to fuel black magic.

“And you’re worried that another witch has come to town to curse you,” Olivia said when they finished sharing the details that never made it into the case reports.

“No,” Eamon said. “This isn’t about me. If it were, they’d have already made a play for me. Few witches remain in this world with strength of that magnitude, so that’s not my concern. I’m worried someone is trying to harness black magic in our town again, though, especially since Halloween is a powerful time for the dark arts. Supernaturals of all breeds and strengths gather together. There’s an unusual amount of power coursing through Bajka, and I can’t help but wonder if these deaths are the sacrifices needed to enact something brutal.”

“Like what?” Olivia’s eyes glazed over at that horrifying prospect. “And can’t you stop them?”

“Most are here for innocent reasons,” Eamon said. “Most witches are your garden-variety practitioners. Many shifters are too weak to make complete transformations. They flock together for community, especially here since my power shields them from those who might hunt them. With all the magic brewing in this town, they can hide as trick-or-treating families, which gives their kids the freedom to experience their strengths safely. Not all creatures are evil. Shifters were born of nature. Ewan’s bear is incredibly strong, as is Rollo’s werewolf, but lesser ones can’t fully transform. So they use Halloween to let their hair loose, literally, so there’s no reason to go after them. And if our killer is a witch, they planned for that. They’re camouflaged by all the scents and powers clouding my vision.”

“Hay in a haystack,” Olivia grumbled. “But you think these murders are witch-inflicted?”

“I do.”

“Why would they need black magic if they aren’t hunting you?”

“I’m not a witch.” Eamon shrugged. “But if I had to guess, I would say it’s a coven war. They could be clashing over territory, trying to eliminate opposition, or attempting to break magic laws.”

“War?” Bel stopped walking. “How dangerous would a witch war be to civilians?”

“Deadly,” he answered. “I’ve witnessed a few in my time. They can wipe out entire regions.”

“We need to find these witches,” Olivia said.

“Ewan’s already helping me look into the local covens. None operate in Bajka, but that could be why neighboring clans are moving in. With Ewan and me living here, the power well to draw upon is vast,” he said. “But you two need to work this case like normal. If witches are clashing, I don’t want you drawing their attention. And if I’m wrong, then you’ll need to find human suspects. If you identify the victims, let me know. That’ll help determine if this is a coven issue or a good, old-fashioned murder.”

“This might be a murder, but there’s nothing old-fashioned about this case,” Olivia snorted. “Why can’t we get called to, I don’t know, a stabbing? A gunshot wound. Something ordinary? That sounds bad. I don’t want to work any homicides, but a tin man with his heart ripped out by warring witches? What book are we starring in? Or whose nightmare is this, and how do we wake them up?”

“You could always move,” Eamon said. “There are plenty of towns that aren’t home to the son of Dracula.”

“I’m not going to—did you just say Dracula?” Olivia grabbed Eamon’s arm and yanked him to a stop. “Dracula was real?”

“His inspiration was.”

“You’re Vlad the Impaler’s son?”

“That was one of his many identities until I killed him, but yes. That vampire sired me.”

“Oh my god! What else have I missed?”

“You’d know if you answered Isobel’s calls.”

“All right, all right, point taken.” Olivia glanced behind Eamon to where Bel was trying not to laugh. “But seriously, is there anything else I’m missing? Is Cerberus some sort of ancient hellhound?”

“Actually…” Eamon winked, enjoying Olivia’s startled face, but he put her out of her misery by showing her photos of the dog’s custom Halloween costume.

“Shut up, that’s perfect.” Olivia zoomed in on the picture. “I love him.”

“Me too,” Bel and Eamon said in unison.