Eleanor pulled up the car, having circled around behind the gas station. She let out a sigh and pulled the handbrake on before stepping out. Her once fine outfit was ruined with small burns and stains from where drops of gasoline had splashed her. She smelled of petrol and gunsmoke despite the valiant effort of the enchanted air freshener. Mal did manage to look slightly abashed but the two civilians with him, the Petersons she presumed, looked like they were hanging on by a thread.

“Who… who are you?” the woman asked. Suppressing a sigh Eleanor reached into her pocket and produced the geas inlaid card.

“I’m Agent So-and-So from the Department of Whatever,” she told them, feeling the lilac bite of the geas. Both of the Petersons were nodding along. It was almost a mercy, though Eleanor knew that was a dangerous line of thinking. First you thought it would be good if your loved one wasn’t afraid, next you thought it would be ok if you made them happy. Next thing you knew you were running a mental puppet without ever meaning to. It was always a slippery slope.

“If you would get in the car Sir and Ma’am, we will take you to a safe place,” Eleanor coaxed. They both nodded jerkily and climbed into the back seat with Mal taking the front. They drove off ahead of the sirens.

 

The dropped the Peterson’s off by the side of the road, dazed and confused enough that emergency services would pick them up, but far enough from the actual site of the blast that their unseen enemies were unlikely to bother with them.

 

“So, a hundred incinerated monster energy drinks aside, what did we find out?” Eleanor asked as she pulled back onto the road.