Red

Chapter Twelve: Rumplestiltskin

Gran drove up to the gate and spoke into the intercom. "It's Graydan Vega and Red Benedict. We're here to see Mr. Stiltskin? We need information." 

The gate buzzed and began to open, and Gran carefully drove through. 

Inside, a housekeeper lead us to Mr. Stiltskin's study. "Sir?" he asked. "they're here." 

Stitskin grunted. "Come in." 

We entered apprehensively. 

The study was relatively large, with floor to ceiling bookshelves and a thick burgundy carpet. In the centre was a desk with a chair facing away from us. 

The chair turned to reveal a small wrinkled man with dark hair and a gold tooth. The boss himself, Rumple Stiltskin. 

He sneered at us, his fingers steepled. "Red Benedict," he said in his unplaceable accent. "You come to me for help after all this time." 

"The contract was clear," I sighed. "She guessed your name. Besides, that was centuries ago." 

He rolled his eyes. "What can I do for you two?" 

"You heard about the murders," Gran began nervously. 

"I see. And you think I know who did it." Stiltskin leaned forward on his desk. "Well, boy, I do got some theories. But it'll cost you." 

Gran shifted. "What do you want from me?"

Stiltskin shook his head. "I don't need nothing from you, boyo. I want something from the girl."

"Fine." I shrugged. "Name your price and I'll consider it." I knew I had to watch my words. The Stiltskin family was part dwarf, part fae. Their contracts were notorious for being impossible to break. Only my ancestor had, and he resented us for it.

Stiltskin grinned. "Give me your firstborn child."

Gran stiffened and glanced at me, his brows creasing. His fingers twitched.

I snorted. "Oh, I'm never having kids," I replied. And I wasn't lying. I really did not want kids. After what my parents had done to me, I couldn't imagine raising my own.

Gran looked at me in surprise. "You have two kids right now," he pointed out.

"And?" I tilted my head. "I'm fostering them. It doesn't count."

Stiltskin rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Benedict. Those to ain't my problem. I want your firstborn child, biological, and that's my final price."

"What's your intel?" I asked.

Stiltskin snorted. "I ain't telling unless you agree to my terms."

"Unless you have the exact name of the killer, I'm not giving you my child."

Stiltskin shrugged, but his eye twitched and narrowed. "You won't know unless you agree"

I rested my hands on the desk. "You don't know the name, do you?"

"The fae you're watching are real cute. I'd be a shame if something..." he trailed off, flicking lint off his velvet suit. "Happened to them."

"Listen here, buddy." I grabbed his collar and raised all three feet of him off the ground so he could look me in the eye. "You even touch those kids, I burn you so bad that toupee melts into your skull. Now tell me, what do you know?"

He looked me in the eyes and I saw a flash of fear run through his. He gulped. "You cops haven't noticed the birds, have you?" he asked.

Gran looked confused. He elbowed me. "Put him down," he hissed. "What birds?"

I set Stiltskin down and he adjusted his collar.

"No?" Stiltskin said. "Probably not important then. Here's all I know: it's a magic being, the killer, with a personal vendetta against all those princesses. One thing about your intel is wrong which would make it hard for you to figure out who it is, but Red here is the closest out of all of you." He said this in one breath, as if speaking fast would make us go away quicker.

My eyes widened. "Gran. You know what that means."

Gran pressed his lips together. "I think I do. Thank you, sir," he said to Stiltskin. We turned to leave.

"Listen, Benedict," Stiltskin called after us. "You made an enemy today. I already didn't like you, and now I wanna kill you. So you better watch your back."

A chill went through my body, but I tried not to let it show. I ignored him and we continued walking.

"With all the feuds between our families, you dare assault me in my own house? You dare dishonour me? Mark my words, Sorrell Benedict, you will be the one to be burned," Stiltskin screamed.

I froze. "What did you just call me?"

I could hear the glee in his voice. He knew he had me. "Yes, Sorrell Benedict, the heir to the hidden Benedict fortune and harbinger of the Second Age. Magic runs in your blood, girl. They knew you were coming since my days, and they knew you would either save us all or destroy us. I've placed my bet on you based on today and trust me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I never lose a bet."