Chapter 11

Chapter11

When are we going to find her? Garou kept asking.

Baptiste had no answer. But he was getting pissed.

The CA agents had brought him and Marissa to their precinct, a modern building made of cement poured over iron rods. Great for disrupting most magic. They directed him to a cell, still manacled in silver, although they did remove the net from him.

Fucking shit burns. Garou did not like their treatment thus far and Baptiste couldn’t blame him. First off, they’d done nothing wrong. Killing a giant roach? Should have gotten them a medal not a ride in the paddy wagon.

Secondly? While he might not have agreed with his uncle’s meddling, the fact remained the murder charges had been dropped. They had no cause to bring him in for that.

Third, the silver net they’d used showed forethought and collusion with a pack. Because usually when a werewolf misbehaved—a.k.a. got violent and started attacking humans—it wasn’t the CA that handled it, but the Pack for that area. It should be noted, the Pack was much stricter and more unforgiving.

Fourth… where the fuck was Daphne?

“This is bullshit!” Marissa cursed as she paced the cell across from him. “I’m a fucking agent who’s committed no crime and yet they’ve locked me up like a criminal and hobbled my power with not even a hint of why.”

“Sorry we got you in trouble.” At this point, Baptiste couldn’t tell if it was Daphne’s mission, his Garou status, or both that led to this happening.

“Don’t apologize. I told you something stank, and this just proves it.” Marissa glared at her bars as if she could laser them.

“Any idea where they might have taken Daphne? Is there another set of cells?”

“No.”

“Maybe she’s being questioned.”

At his suggestion, Marissa shook her head. “I doubt it. Her being removed mid-transport isn’t normal.”

She’s in danger. He didn’t need Garou pointing it out to come to that conclusion.

Agitation had him raking fingers through his hair. “We have to get out of here. When is someone going to come talk to us?”

“Should have already happened. Normally, we question first, then put a person in a cell if they deserve it. This entire fiasco is completely backwards.”

“I don’t know how long I can sit here doing nothing.” Worry over Daphne had him pacing, and despite the silver cuffs, Garou seethed and pulsed. It should be noted, silver worked on werewolves, but he hadn’t heard of it being tested on a Garou. Could it be that carrying the wolf god would allow him to bypass the restriction that prevented any kind of shifting while in contact with silver?

I’m stuck. That answered that question.

“Can’t do much until they deign to finally speak to us,” Marissa grumbled as she paced her cell. She paused as the door at the far end buzzed and clicked, giving entry to an agent.

Not just any agent. The rat himself. Ralph.

The smug fuck waddled to stand in front of Marissa’s cage.

“You have a lot of nerve,” she huffed. “Snitching on your partner.”

“How was it snitching? You said you were taking them in for questioning. When you didn’t show at headquarters, I got worried,” the smirking fuck lied.

“Worried my ass,” she hotly retorted. “You didn’t call or text. Didn’t knock on my door. You showed up with a SWAT team!”

“What else could I do when I realized you were associating with a violent criminal?”

“Those charges were dropped,” Baptiste argued.

“Guess our office didn’t hear.” More lying by the asshole who didn’t deserve to wear a badeg.

“Well, you know now. Release us.”

“No can do.” Ralph smirked. “Boss wants to know what you were doing with them in your house.”

“We were having a chat over breakfast. You know the meal you have twice before lunch,” Marissa tartly tossed.

Ralph bristled. “No need to be a bitch.”

It led to Baptiste growling. “Watch your mouth.”

The fat fuck whirled and had the nerve to smirk. “Or what? You’re bound in silver and in a cell. What are you going to do?”

Let me eat his face.

He just might if Ralph kept pushing his buttons.

“What are you holding us on? What are the charges?” Marissa demanded.

“No charges. Although the boss does want to know why you were colluding with them.”

“There was no collusion. Jesus fucking Christ, Ralph. Use your head for something other than a pie stuffing hole.”

“With that kind of attitude, you won’t be getting out any time soon.”

“This is harassment. I’m going to complain.” She jabbed her finger at Baptiste. “And he’ll probably sue. You know we’re not allowed to get involved in Pack matters.”

“We aren’t.”

“Yet I’m in a cage,” Baptiste countered.

“Only until your ride arrives.” Ralph jerked a thumb at Baptiste. “Once he’s on his way with his uncle, maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you go.”

At the mention of his uncle, Baptiste spat, “I am not a child to be remanded into the custody of a family member. If you’re not charging me, then I know my rights. I demand to be released at once.” The firm request emerged in a growl.

“Can’t do that. Apparently, your Pack reported you mentally unstable and missing. Since they had a feeling you might be heading this way, they couriered us the net.”

“I am not unstable. Nor am I missing.”

“If you say so. Don’t care. You’re a werewolf which means you’re a Pack problem. Within the hour, you’ll be out of our hands.”

“And Daphne?” he asked, keeping his voice low and calm despite the bristling Garou within.

“Off to meet with someone,” Ralph only partially answered.

“Who?” he snapped.

“Guess you’ll find out soon enough.” The fucker had the nerve to look blasé as he said, “The witch in Palusville.”

“What?” he roared, causing Ralph to stagger back. “Why the ever-loving fuck would you hand over a civilian to someone engaging in criminal activity?”

“Because the witch contacted the boss and offered two of our agents back in exchange for the dryad.”

“And she agreed?” Marissa sounded shocked.

“Boss didn’t have a choice if she wanted them returned.”

“She did have a choice. She could have done her fucking job and taken out the witch!” Marissa countered.

“The whole problem is no one can get near Circe. So this was the best way to get our people back.”

Baptiste went very still. “What did you call the witch in Palusville?”

“Circe.”

The name sounded familiar, and it took a moment to remember why. Circe was the name of the person who’d cursed Daphne centuries ago. Could be a coincidence. “How old is she?”

“Why does it matter?”

“How fucking old?” Baptiste shouted, gripping the bars hard enough they groaned.

Ralph took a step back and frowned. “I don’t know. But rumor has it she’s been squatting there more than a century.”

The knot in his stomach tightened at the realization Daphne might be at the mercy of her greatest enemy. It led to him seething, and an agitated Garou pulsed within, making the silver shackling him burn fiercely where it touched skin. But he didn’t care.

He wrenched at the bars as he hissed, “You fucking bastard. How dare you act like it’s not a big fucking deal. You traded a woman’s life to a criminal.”

“Not a woman. A nymph. A brainless fucking plant.” Ralph insulted Daphne and it made something snap inside Baptiste.

“She’s smarter than you, dough boy.” Baptiste pulled at the cage holding him and heard a satisfying creak.

Ralph retreated with wide eyes, his ass hitting the bars of Marissa’s cell. Her arm emerged and wrapped around his throat, choking him off. Ralph struggled and clawed at her arm but Marissa didn’t relent until he slumped, unconscious.

“Two-timing fucker,” Marissa muttered. “The only reason he hasn’t been fired is because his daddy used to be a hero.” She dropped to her knees and searched the snoring body.

“He doesn’t have the cell block keys,” Baptiste remarked. Those remained in the anti-magic Faraday-type box by the door.

“No, but he does have the cuff ones.” She lifted the little keys triumphantly. In seconds, she’d shed her magic-disrupting manacles and was groping the lock to her cell.

“You can’t do magic inside CA buildings,” Baptiste noted.

“Not entirely true. For most it’s impossible because of safeguards, but I’m not most people. Now that the cuffs are off, the magic is muffled but still there.” Her forehead creased as she concentrated. The lock glowed and clicked. “Lucky for us, I don’t need much to open doors.” She crossed to his cell and unlocked his cage. The silver manacles dropped at her touch.

Freedom, Garou crowed.

Ralph groaned on the floor.

Now can I eat him?

“We don’t have time,” he murmured.

“Agreed,” she replied, thinking he spoke to her. “We better go before this uncle of yours arrives.”

“Go how? We’re in the heart of the CA building. We can’t exactly walk out.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Wanna bet? First, we need a distraction.”

“Going to pull the fire alarm?” He wasn’t entirely joking. It worked in movies.

“No, because that just evacuates the building, meaning we’d have guards in here looking to drag us out. We need something that will keep them too busy to think about us and I know just the thing.” She didn’t head for the door Ralph came through but the one on the opposite end.

Given Ralph was starting to stir, Baptiste grabbed hold and heaved him into his cell, the clang of the door shutting very satisfying.

“Does Ralph have magic?” he asked.

“Not enough to do anything. His claim to fame is he can move small objects. Very small,” she tossed over her shoulder as she fiddled with the door.

“What’s in that room?” he asked as he neared to see her undoing a series of locks, some of them mechanical, others bound by spells.

“Illegal cryptids waiting for shipment back to their countries.”

“Should you be releasing them? I assume they’re dangerous given that you’ve got them locked away.”

She cast a grin in his direction. “Not dangerous so much as pesky. Also, very hard to catch. Leprechauns are tricky creatures. Mischievous and vindictive to those who wrong them. Say, like the agents who brought them in,” she said as she swung open the door.

A little man with red hair and a matching beard in a bright green suit stood waiting, looking benign. “Fair witch, how are you this fine day?”

She crouched. “I’m excellent, Rufus. But I’d like to exchange favors.”

“Speak your bargain, milady.” He tucked his diminutive hands behind his back.

Baptiste glanced past him to see other figures in green eyeing the conversation. All male. Eight in total.

“In exchange for me releasing you and your band, I need a distraction of epic proportion that my friend and I might slip away unnoticed.”

Rufus had a smile bigger than his head. “That can be arranged with pleasure, fair witch.”

“Once you escape this room, you’re on your own,” she warned. “I can’t guarantee they won’t catch you.”

“Worry not about us, we have no intention of being snared again.”

“Then you might want to avoid rainbows in the future.”

The statement caused Rufus to scowl. “We need to work on our weakness. But it’s hard to resist looking for the treasure we’ve lost.” Leprechauns claimed to have come to Earth via a rainbow road from a place of endless bounty. They’d been trying to return ever since, only the rainbows they’d been trying to follow turned out to be duds.

Marissa held out her hand, sliding it through a barrier that shimmered, which explained why the little men hadn’t fled already. “So we have a bargain?”

A tiny hand shook her finger. “Agreed.”

“Excellent.” She stood before waving a hand. “Good luck.”

“Screw luck,” yelled a tiny voice. “Let’s go fuck up some shit, boys.”

The small horde raced past, a bright blur of green that had to pause at the other door and wait for Marissa to open it.

When Baptiste would have followed them, she held him back. “Give them a minute.”

“How will we know if they’re keeping their end of the deal?”

“Because they’re strangely honest that way. It shouldn’t be long,” she murmured.

Whoop. Whoop.

A siren blared and Marissa murmured, “That’s our cue.”

They emerged to find a haze of smoke, making visibility difficult. People yelled. Leprechauns giggled. Things crashed and broke.

In that chaos, Marissa led him down a hall and through a door marked exit. The dumpsters rattled as they passed them. The alley lead to a parking lot that held many cars, but not Marissa’s, which he knew for a fact remained at her house.

“Now what?” he asked.

A set of keys jangled as she held them up. “We’re borrowing Ralph’s wheels. Although, I will apologize in advance.”

“For what?” he asked as he followed her quick stride to a rusted sedan.

“The mess.” She unlocked the doors to the car and announced, “I’m driving.” Good idea since she knew the city better than him.

The interior of the vehicle had food wrappers strewn and smelled heavily of deep-fried food, but he didn’t care. He was out of the cell. Time to find Daphne.

Marissa started the car and didn’t waste time getting them moving. As they exited the parking lot, a blacked-out SUV was pulling up in front of the building. He turned around to see who got out and growled, “There’s my fucking uncle.”

We really should eat his face.

Baptiste might make an exception to his “no eating people” rule, just for Frederick.

“We got out just in time, then. It won’t be long before they notice us gone and how we left. We need to ditch this car,” Marissa stated as she took a hard right.

“They took my truck keys, but I have a spare set in the wheel well.”

“Can’t take your truck or my car. They’ll be looking for them.”

“But I need wheels to get to Palusville.”

“Obviously. Good thing I have a solution.”

The pair of motorcycles she borrowed from a friend suited his growly mood.

We’re coming, Daphne.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too late.