How Not To Abduct a Banshee

Episode 4

Samuel swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the road ahead as his mind swirled with a mix of dread and defiance. This wasn’t just a bad night—it was a complete unraveling. Mitch’s men, the cops, and now Caelin Arlie. He’d survived dicey situations before, but this? This felt like balancing on the edge of a knife—her knife. His mind racing with questions. What was she doing here? Why was she letting him drive? Was this some kind of twisted game?

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Caelin leaned back, the knife now resting lazily in her lap. She didn’t look like she was in any hurry to use it, but her mere presence was suffocating. The casual menace of someone who could dismantle him with a flick of her wrist. Samuel gritted his teeth. If he was going to make it out of this alive, he needed to use every trick in his arsenal, and charm had always been his go-to.

“So,” he began, letting his voice dip into a soothing cadence, one he knew had melted plenty of resolve before, “you don’t really need that knife out, do you? I mean, we’re both adults here. No need for… sharp edges between us.” He glanced at her in the mirror, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile.

Caelin raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to flirt with me or con me? Because, let me tell you, neither is working.”

Samuel’s grip on the wheel tightened. “No, no, just… trying to set the tone, you know? A little less murder-y, a little more… cooperative.”

Her lips twitched, but not in amusement. “Here’s a tip: if you want to survive the night, don’t talk to me like I’m some waitress you’re sweet-talking for a free coffee.”

Okay, that stung. He pressed on, though, shifting gears—figuratively and literally. “Look, I get it. You’re the big scary assassin. But maybe we can work together here. Two heads are better than one, right? If you're not going to kill me what's the plan here?

“That’s up to you,” she said, her tone deceptively casual. “You’re the one who stole the car and kidn*pped me. I’m just along for the ride.” Samuel’s jaw dropped slightly, and his mind spiraled into chaos. What?! This isn’t how k********g works! Except… it kind of is. Only I’m the one being kidn*pped. Or am I? Either way, it didn’t matter. No one would believe he’d willingly kidn*pped her. You’d have to be an absolute i***t to target anyone in the Arlie family, but especially her.

God, this is insane, Samuel thought, but maybe it’s not all bad. Mitch’s men are definitely going to come after me. That’s a guarantee. But if they find me with her… maybe I can work this in my favor. Nobody’s dumb enough to tangle with Caelin Arlie, right?

“Seriously though, You can put the knife away now. I get it. You’re scary. No incentive needed."

She smirked, the faintest hint of amusement flickering across her face. “Relax. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be.”

Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better. Samuel’s throat tightened. “Right. Cool. Totally not ominous. I’m Samuel, by the way.” Be casual. Play it cool. Treat her like any other woman. You’ve got this. Except he very much didn’t.

Caelin sighed but finally withdrew the knife, cleaning it on a cloth she pulled from her jacket before sheathing it. “You’re lucky I hate messes,” she muttered.

Samuel exhaled in relief, though her presence was still suffocating. He couldn’t help but wonder why she couldn't be influenced by his particular brand of magic. Subtle nudges, little suggestions—it worked on others.

“Stop,” Caelin said suddenly, her voice sharp and calm. Samuel didn’t even think. His foot slammed on the brakes, the car screeched to a halt, tires screaming against the asphalt. His heart pounded, his hands still gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline, but his brain was already screaming, Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Caelin was a blur of motion, tumbling forward with an audible thud as she hit the back of the driver’s seat and then onto the floorboard. The moment she hit the ground, Samuel winced. I’m so dead.

But Caelin wasn’t on the floor long enough to be pitied—or mocked. Within seconds, she had righted herself, her movements so quick and fluid it was like gravity had no say in the matter. Her eyes locked on him in the rearview mirror.

“s**t!” Samuel blurted, immediately regretting it. Her glare could have frozen lava as she stared daggers at him.

“What the hell was that?!” Caelin growled, her voice as sharp as the knife she’d just cleaned moments earlier.

“You said stop!” Samuel blurted defensively, his voice cracking in a way that made him cringe internally. Oh god, did I just squeak? I’m a grown man! Pull it together!

Caelin narrowed her eyes, her gaze cold and calculating, like a predator deciding whether to finish off its prey.

“You are either the dumbest man alive,” she said, her tone low and deliberate, “or you’re actively trying to get us both killed. Which one is it?”

“I—I panicked!” Samuel stammered, lifting his hands off the steering wheel in surrender. “You said stop, so I stopped! We’re stopped, see?” He forced a weak laugh, though it died quickly under her glare. It’s official. I’m going to die today.

Caelin didn’t reply immediately, her piercing gaze practically pinning him to the seat. Finally, she let out a slow, irritated sigh and leaned back, brushing herself off with an almost casual air, as though the humiliating tumble hadn’t happened.

“You’re lucky I still need you alive,” she muttered.

Samuel tightened his grip on the wheel, trying not to let his frustration boil over. Stop, Samuel. Drive, Samuel. If I’m going to be treated like a chauffeur, I should at least be getting paid for it!

As if reading his thoughts—and honestly, she probably was, at this point nothing would surprise him—Caelin reached up and unclasped the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The glittering piece caught the light as she tossed it into his lap without ceremony.

“There,” she said dryly. “Payment. You’re right—odds are, you’re not making it out of today alive. So stop whining, stop overthinking, and drive.”

Samuel stared at the bracelet for half a second, his jaw slack. “Is this… real?” Caelin gave him a withering look.

“No, I carry around cheap costume jewelry for moments like this. Drive.”

He swallowed hard and pressed his foot to the gas, the car lurching forward as the engine roared back to life. The city blurred past them, but Samuel’s focus remained locked on the road ahead. Between Caelin, Mitch’s men, and his own knack for screwing things up, he had no idea how the night would end. All he knew was that if he made it out alive, he was keeping the bracelet.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual, “this isn’t a k********g. You’re kind of k********g me actually.”

Caelin raised an eyebrow, “Semantics.”