Belle’s Quest (Fairytale Bureau #3)

Chapter 17

17

Killian

Captured and without a fight.

Killian still couldn’t believe how easily the monster behind the Grimm Effect managed to control him. Then again, what could he do when Gerome went after Belle and the thing in the papier-maché body stated, “If you want her to live, then you’ll do as I say.”

In that moment, it didn’t matter that the monster wanted to possess his body or that it had caused the world’s woes. It threatened Belle’s life, so Killian could only clench his fists and mutter, “Swear you’ll leave her unharmed.”

“Behave and she lives. Step out of line and there won’t be enough left of her to recognize.” A threat made all the worse for its flat delivery.

Did he trust the word of this alien? No. But a promise was better than nothing .

Gerome returned empty-handed and, even better, blood-free.

“The female?” the thing questioned.

“Is secured.”

“Excellent. In that case, it is time for us to depart.”

“Where are we going?” Killian asked.

“To a place where the magic is strong, strong enough for me to inhabit your shape and start the revolution of this world.” The statement would have had a more chilling effect with an evil cackle. Instead, the paper puppet stiff-marched to the door.

Killian followed, although he did hesitate once he hit the sunshine. Was he really going to walk willingly to his demise?

He glanced back at the house. Gerome shoved him, and the thing reminded, “Obey or she perishes.”

The threat led to him walking stiffly to the garage behind the cottage. He kept his gaze straight ahead, his shoulders back. Show no fear, a lesson instilled in him at a young age from his mother who said people would look for weakness that they could exploit. Confidence was the most important trait a ruler could have.

Even if faked.

The car ride proved uncomfortable, even though he had the entire back seat. He couldn’t help but realize every mile they drove brought him closer and closer to the end .

Would removing his consciousness from his body hurt? Would he be a wraith, doomed to float the Earth? Would there even be an Earth left once Methuselah took over his life and began his plot for world domination?

It took just under two hours to reach their destination. The traffic on the highway moved rapidly, and they only stopped once for gas.

They pulled into the busy parking lot for Stonehenge, and Killian roused himself enough to ask, “Why are we here?”

“This is a place of power,” Methuselah declared. “Not the strongest on your planet but enough to fuel my plans.”

As they emerged, they got some strange looks. Blame the alien’s appearance. In a world of fairytales that came to life, Methuselah still stood out. No one had ever seen the likes of him before. At the same time, people didn’t point or comment. Just glanced, cocked their heads in puzzlement, and then went on with their day. In this case, being tourists.

Wait, make that sheep.

As they passed folks, some heading for their cars, others for the visitor center, waiting for their turn to see the wonder over yonder, sheep began to appear. It took Killian a second to realize what happened.

“What are you doing to those people?” he exclaimed as an entire family turned into fuzzy-haired bleaters.

“Ensuring they don’t interfere.” The thing spoke matter-of-fact.

“By making them into sheep?”

“Isn’t there an expression about sheep being good followers?” The thing didn’t chuckle, and yet the mockery shone through loud and clear.

Moo . A few cows began popping up, and there was definite sarcasm as the puppet said, “There, some variety. Is that better?”

No. Nothing about this was good at all.

The distance from Belle finally gave him the push he needed to make a run for it. He bolted, heading back for the highway, where he could hitch a ride.

He didn’t make it two paces before he froze in place.

“I wondered when you’d attempt to escape. You humans are so predictable,” the thing chided. “Watch the prince while I handle the rest of the people.”

The puppet master marched off, leaving in his wake more sheep.

Gerome stood by Killian’s stiff and unmoving body, his arms crossed, his expression blank.

“Gerome, are you in there?” He tried appealing to the man.

No reply .

“You have to shake off whatever spell he’s put you under. You’re a Grimm Knight. You’re supposed to be fighting this evil, not helping it.”

Still not a single hint Gerome even listened.

“Think of Hannah.”

Twitch. Just a single tic by Gerome’s eye. Was she the key to freeing him?

“Hannah’s going to be worried. I know you two are close.”

Nothing.

No matter what Killian said, he didn’t get another reaction. By the time the puppet returned, he was out of ideas.

“Time to handle those crowding the place of power. Follow.” The command forced Killian’s legs into motion. He walked like a tin soldier, left foot, right foot, following the paper butt to the crowd taking pictures of the stone structure.

He’d only ever seen pictures of Stonehenge. It loomed bigger than expected. Impressive, if you thought about it. The pillars with their crowning mantles erected in a time with no machines, just human hands and ingenuity.

People barely paid them any mind until Methuselah began forcing his way through the crowd.

“Hey, what the— Baaa .” People began dropping to four hooves, which led to some panic. Screams began, as did a stampede to get away. None escaped the alien’s curse, but the effort to change so many took its toll.

Killian noticed the puppet moving more sluggishly and stiff than before, as if weakened. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about the spell holding him, which seemed as strong as ever. He could observe. Blink. Nothing else.

“Let us see what we have to work with.” Methuselah led the way into the stone circle, and Killian shivered as he passed the stones and didn’t stop until he hit the dead center.

Was it him, or did the air hum? His hair certainly lifted, and his skin pimpled.

The simulacrum held out its arms and exclaimed, “Feel that power. Glorious, and soon it will be mine.”

Killian would have loved to ask why it couldn’t assess it now. Could that be the reason why it wanted his body?

The puppet pointed. “Lie down there.”

Killian had no choice but to obey and lay on the grass, staring up at the blue sky. The sun was creeping for the horizon. Soon it would be night and Belle would transform alone for the first time.

How he missed her. A woman who’d stolen his interest with a vigorous tackle then taken his heart with her sass. He’d truly wanted to make their marriage work, knowing in her he’d found a partner for life .

Too fast? Not if you believed in love at first sight. He’d never been more sure than when she’d dropped that book and he knelt and gazed upon her, beautiful in her golden dress with her hair dressed in roses. In that moment, it hit him.

She’s the one.

And now they’d never get a chance to explore what might have been.

“Stake him down. We don’t want him moving around once I start.” The simulacrum ordered Gerome, and the big man obeyed, leaving them only to return with metal pegs and rope, which he used to secure Killian to the ground.

The humbling nature of being unable to act didn’t sit well. Killian usually liked to be in the thick of things. The one doing, not watching. Not this time. This time he got to be a spectator to his own demise.

Kind of depressing so he thought of happier things, like the carriage ride where he’d pleasured his wife. That had been one of the best moments of his life. He’d had plans to seduce her near a bed the next time to truly show her how she made him feel. Happy, energized, hopeful for the future.

Also scared, as he heard her voice suddenly. “That’s enough. Leave him alone.”

What was Belle doing here ?

Being brave of course. He loved her for it but also wished she’d never come.

“Do not interfere,” Methuselah stated, standing over him.

“I will so interfere,” Belle huffed. “That’s my husband.”

Those words gave him the strength to turn his head to see her. She looked bedraggled and glorious with her hands planted on her hips. Still wearing the tracksuit she’d borrowed. Her hair a wild mess.

“Be still. The transference is about to begin,” the puppet master stated as the sun set in a wild display of colors.

The last thing he would see apparently, as Methuselah crouched and whispered, “Time for you to vacate my new home.”

And with that, his soul became untethered.