Chapter 10

Chapter10

Daphne readiedherself to fight only to hesitate at the Earth Mother’s command. Don’t fight the arrest.

While obedient, she did question. What about my mission?

Despite how it might seem, this will actually help you to achieve your goal.

She had to wonder how but trusted the Mother. What if they try to harm me?

Then do what you must to stay alive.

“Ready?” Baptiste asked with his hand on the door.

“Yes. And you’ll be glad to know I won’t hurt them so long as they don’t harm me.” She reluctantly re-sheathed her daggers.

“Fair enough.” He opened the door, but she stepped out first to shouts of, “Hands in the air. Drop your weapons.”

“Which is it? If I do one, I can’t do the other,” was her cheeky reply as she noted the many guns—and glowing hands—aimed her way.

“Just put your hands on your head,” the woman in charge barked. “Any other move and we will use force.”

“Promise?” Daphne dared them to try because then she wouldn’t be bound by the Mother’s demand. She did obey, though, and put her hands atop her head. As if that would slow her down if she had to act.

Amateurs.

Someone approached with heavy-looking manacles of iron. Pure iron. The one thing a dryad detested because it impeded her ability to talk to the Mother.

It’s okay, my champion. Let them think you are cooperating.

Think indeed. These idiots obviously had no idea what she was capable of. Then again, they’d never met a dryad like her.

The Mother’s reassurance didn’t stop her grimace as they clamped the cold metal around her wrists and confiscated her daggers. The instant loss of contact with the Earth jarred, especially so soon after her release. She’d spent four hundred years cut off from the Mother, but it wouldn’t kill her to do it again if it served the mission.

As Ralph—the man she should have slapped when she got a chance—herded her towards the vehicle, Baptiste emerged from the house, hands laced on his head. Offering himself up meekly. Peacefully.

The agents didn’t care.

He bellowed as a net of silver dropped on him from above, encasing his entire body.

So much for not fighting arrest. The big man thrashed and pushed at the webbing, horror and fear twisting his expression. The beast didn’t like being nullified.

“Hold still!” yelled the woman. “Where’s the silver cuffs?”

Someone trotted over and Baptiste held still, but not easily. She could see the trembling in his frame. He winced as the silver cuffs went around his wrists. They also added a set to his legs attached by a long chain that allowed him to do a shuffling walk that jingled because of all the silver.

“This isn’t necessary,” he grumbled.

“We don’t take chances with murderers,” was the woman’s cold reply.

“Those charges were dropped,” he retorted.

“We’ll see about that,” the woman stated. “Load them up.”

Daphne and Baptiste were placed in the back of the van with a glowering Marissa. The doors slammed shut and a spell dropped over the vehicle, muffling outside sound.

Marissa muttered, “Sorry. If I’d known Ralph would be such a snitch, I wouldn’t have taken you back to my place.”

“Not your fault,” Baptiste replied through a tight jaw. “Did they say what we’re being arrested for?”

“I asked and was told it wasn’t my business. I said fuck yeah it was, since you put me in cuffs. The boss said he was proving a point about my conduct.” Marissa’s lips pursed. “Something’s not right about this. They came way too well prepared. How did they know to bring iron cuffs for a dryad and silver for a werewolf? Not to mention the silver netting isn’t from our armory.”

Daphne’s lips pursed. “Someone warned them we’d be coming.”

“They didn’t just warn, they equipped them,” Baptiste growled. “And I’ll bet I know who.”

“Your uncle must have contacted the local authority.” Daphne understood right away. “But how did he know where we were going?”

At that query, he shrugged. “No idea, but I should have known he wouldn’t give up so easily. I’m sorry. Seems like this mock arrest might be more about me than you.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Marissa interjected as the van came to a halt.

“Meaning what?” Baptiste questioned.

“The first thing the boss asked me was if I had a dryad with white hair inside. She knew about Daphne.”

Baptiste glanced at Daphne. “Did my uncle know what you were?”

She shook her head. “We never interacted.”

“Could it be scent that gave her away?” Marissa asked.

Before anyone could reply, the doors to the back of the van opened. An agent in full body armor pointed at Daphne. “You. Come with me.”

Rather than move she asked, “Why?”

“Do as you’re told,” he snapped.

“Where are you taking her?” Baptiste surged to his feet but had to hunch in the confined space.

“None of your business.”

Marissa took a softer tone as she said, “What’s going on, Dylan? I thought we were all going to headquarters.”

The guy glanced sideways before uttering a whispered, “You guys are, but the boss lady says the dryad is going elsewhere. There’s an unmarked sedan waiting with some dude I’ve never seen before driving it.”

“You know this isn’t right,” Marissa argued.

“It’s okay,” Daphne stated, shuffling to the open door. “The Mother knew and seemed to think this would advance my quest.”

“Now might be a good time to pull your psycho shit,” Baptiste advised.

“I’ll be okay, Beast. Try and steer clear of your uncle while I deal with matters.” Daphne hopped to the ground, eschewing the offered hand.

Outside, the sky lightened as dawn prepared to break. Her favorite time of day. Sun was life and its warm touch always brought joy.

Daphne needed no prompting to walk to the parked car with the woman in charge standing by it, but she did stop to eye her and say, “The Mother sees you and knows what you’ve done.”

The woman only showed the faintest of reactions before sneering. “And yet she does nothing while her so-called paladin is taken into captivity.”

“The Mother gives me autonomy to act. Can you say the same of whomever you’re obeying?”

The mark hit, and the woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “Get in the car.”

“Where am I going?”

“There’s a witch who wants to see you.”

“Really?” Daphne’s expression brightened. “Why didn’t you say so?” She hopped in and sat before saying impatiently, “Close the door that we might get on our way. I am eager to complete my mission.”

The door slammed shut and the car lurched into motion, the driver remaining silent, which suited her fine. They drove long enough that the morning sun had fully crested before they pulled to a stop in a gas station long vacant. The pumps that provided fuel were missing their hoses and weeds grew through the tarmac and the windows of the building were covered with boards.

Despite its abandonment, another vehicle was parked, and from it emerged two people, disheveled and hollow-eyed. A man and a young woman.

Her driver opened the door for Daphne and ordered her, “Get out.”

It appeared to be an exchange. Daphne for the pair.

She strutted without qualm to the other vehicle, the driver a brutish fellow with a patch over an eye and a scent that displeased. Acrid and unpleasant.

He said nothing as she slid into the rear seat. She tried to ask questions as he drove—“Where are we going?” “Who do you work for?” “Is it far?”—but he remained silent.

Given his lack of communication, she napped. Might as well be well rested for her arrival. She woke when the vehicle jostled, having left smooth pavement for a rutted path, pitted and muddy in spots. The foliage grew increasingly dense, but not in a healthy way. She spotted the signs of rot and decay as leaves that should have been green instead showed hints of black mold and even white fungal spores. The air, heavy with moisture, reeked of death.

She’d found the area that concerned the Mother.

The car stopped by a cottage. A quaint thing that wouldn’t have been out of place in her time with its river stone walls and thatched roof.

Not so quaint? The pile of skulls surrounding a steaming cauldron, the fumes of it a sickly green.

She’d been delivered to the home of the witch. Excellent, although she did wonder why the witch had requested her.

“Get out,” the one-eyed man ordered.

Though still cuffed, she was able to open her own door. She slid out of the vehicle which sped off, leaving her stranded. She’d worry about leaving this place once she dealt with the witch.

Speaking of whom, the cottage door opened.

A woman appeared, her light blonde hair pulled into a bun atop her head, her trim figure wearing modern clothing, but her face…

Daphne’s jaw dropped as the face that had haunted her in the seed smirked at her surprise.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Mother’s champion back from her long sojourn.”

A taunt that barely registered as Daphne grappled with one fact: Circe was still alive!