Chapter 3

Chapter3

Thank you?The crazy lady thanked him for the loan of his jacket after her attempt to maim him?

Maim? Bah, not even close. She’s feisty and attractive. Garou approved.

Of all the things that he’d experienced in his life, finding himself face-to-face with a naked woman in a snowstorm was a first. Also surprising? Her wild beauty. He might have been sunk deep in his own misery, but he still noticed her curvy shape barely hidden by her long, white hair at odds with her youthful features.

Very nice. Maybe I won’t need that mastiff after all.

Oh, fuck no.

While she put on his jacket, Baptiste asked, “Why are you outside without any clothes? In case you missed it, the weather is kind of shit.”

“The healing seed works better without garments to interfere.”

He blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Not surprising. Humans never were all too bright in my time. I see that hasn’t changed.”

“Excuse me?”

“For what? Not stripping fast enough?” she asked with a lilt. “Move faster. Bad enough your clothes reek. Does your kind still not believe in bathing?” Her nose wrinkled.

“I’m homeless.”

“And?” she retorted, his jacket fitting big on her, hanging almost to her knees. “There is a stream running through that forest and I sense a larger body of water not far from here. Both would work as cleansing pools.”

“No one swims in the quarry. The narwhals can get rough.” He’d gone there once and, to his continuing humiliation, got tossed like a beachball a few times.

That was embarrassing. On that Garou agreed.

“Narwhals live in oceans,” stated the strange woman.

“Not anymore. Nexus has become a haven for all cryptids.”

“I assume because of the resurrected Monster King. The Mother mentioned he’d returned.”

“The Mother, as in, Earth?”

“As if there’s any other,” she scoffed. “Keep the rest of your clothes. This coat will do until I find better.”

She went to walk past, and he glanced at her feet. “You have no shoes.”

“How observant.”

“You’ll get frostbite.” Said out of habit, considering he’d stopped caring about anything the moment he snapped out of his curse and realized how he’d been used.

Here we go again, Garou groaned.

She glanced at her bare toes. “Frostbite would be unfortunate seeing as how I have no intention of returning to seed so soon. Give me your boots.” An imperious demand.

“You wouldn’t be able to walk in them. My feet are twice your size.” At a custom-made fifteen, he didn’t come by footwear he liked easily.

“You make an unfortunately valid point. The only other solution is for you to carry me to a location where I might properly attire myself.”

“Excuse me?”

She sighed. “Mother save me from dim humans.”

Agreed.

“I’m not human.”

She pursed her lips as she stared before uttering an even longer sound. “Animal. Should have known. Even dumber.”

Hey, wait a second!

“Listen lady—”

“I am no lady.”

“Obviously.” His turn to be sarcastic.

“I am Mother Earth’s champion. As such, you will carry me to a location where I can acquire less offensive-smelling clothing and footwear.”

“I doubt the goddess would want you to have my help. I’m persona non grata these days.” His lips turned down.

She cocked her head and her eyes lost focus before she murmured, “The Mother says you weren’t at fault but since you seek redemption you should provide me with aid that I might achieve victory in my quest.” The woman frowned. “Ignore that. I don’t require help.”

“Says the barefoot lady in the woods.”

“Only because you won’t give me your ridiculously large, and most likely smelly, boots.”

“You’re awfully demanding for someone who tried to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying or you’d be dead.”

She meant it too.

“Guess it wouldn’t hurt to carry you. That is if you can handle being close to my unwashed body,” was his sarcastic reply.

“Finally, you make the right decision. I will do my best to not breathe through my nose. Turn around.”

“Why?” he asked, spinning rather than arguing.

She launched herself at his back, her weight slight enough he didn’t stagger, but he did startle. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands clutched his shoulders. “Onward, beast of burden.”

Hold on. I don’t think I like her anymore. Buck her off!

Rather than listen to Garou, he replied, “How about, ‘Thanks Baptiste. Awfully nice of you to help.’”

“In my day we didn’t thank the horses that carried us,” was her snooty reply.

“I’m not a fucking horse.” He growled with annoyance, a feeling that warmed some of the dead inside. It had been a while since he’d felt anything.

Always knew you had a bit of a masochist side. It explains those ghost peppers you insist on torturing us with.

“Obviously you’re not a horse or you’d have hooves and be less argumentative.”

“I’m a werewolf.” Might as well get it out of the way.

“How unfortunate for you.”

“Are you always this rude or did I catch you on a good day?”

“I see the men of this time still cannot handle a forthright woman.” She sniffed.

“You sure are a prize. I can see why someone dumped you in the woods,” he muttered.

“I was not dumped. I told you I recently hatched from my healing seed after being trapped for centuries.”

“Trapped by who?”

“The witch, Circe,” she hissed.

“And why did she curse you?” he asked, more interested than he would have expected.

“Because she was a jealous hag. It is good she is already dead, or my first task would be to send her to perdition.”

“Killing isn’t something that should be done lightly. It haunts you.” It haunted him. He couldn’t stop seeing—

He shook his head. Nope. Not going there. Bad enough, the nightmare returned every single time he closed his eyes.

“Then you’re weak. Killing is a part of life. Sometimes to flourish, a culling is required.”

Agreed. You should listen to her.

He ignored his beast. “Killing people is murder.”

“Not if they deserve it.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then that’s unfortunate for them.”

Ha. Really starting to like her.

“Ever heard of remorse?” Baptiste countered.

She snorted. “What’s the point once it’s happened?”

“Because maybe you feel bad about your actions.”

“I never feel bad about what I do.”

“What if a curse made you do it?”

“Then it wouldn’t be my fault so even less reason to lament.”

See, she doesn’t whine and cry and play a little violin.

“That’s cold,” Baptiste retorted.

“No, the weather is cold. Attaching guilt to actions that you aren’t responsible for is dumb.”

“You talk awfully well for a woman who claims she’s been inside a seed for more than a hundred years.” He changed the topic, mostly because he didn’t want to find a reason to forgive himself.

“The roots of my tree spread far and listened.”

He halted suddenly. “Wait, are you a dryad?”

“What gave it away?” was her dry reply.

“I thought dryads were gentle, fun-loving nymphs with green hair.”

“That would be the Meliae. They are the nurturing type.”

“What are you?”

“Not the nurturing type.”

As if he hadn’t noticed. “You never did tell me your name.”

“Because you don’t need it.”

“Ah, so it’s ugly and you’d rather not share. I get it.”

“I am not a child to be tricked into replying,” she said tartly.

“No, you’re just a grown-ass woman who is afraid to give her name, most likely for some wackadoodle reason.”

“If you must know, it’s Daphne.”

“Hello, Daphne. I’d say nice to meet you but that would be a lie.”

“Would it? Already you are less despondent.”

She’s right. This is the most fun we’ve had in ages.

Surprisingly true. “There’s a house up ahead. You can ask to use their phone to call for help.”

“Why would I call when I can help myself?”

“Because you can’t just order people to give you stuff.”

“I did with you.”

She’s got you there.

“Only a jerk wouldn’t give a naked woman his coat in this weather.”

“You only handed it over after I made you fearful for your life,” she reminded.

“I was not afraid!” he blurted.

“Yet here I am, wearing your coat while you get cold.”

“Not cold,” he grumbled. Mostly true. This conversation plus her wrapped around him did much to keep him warm.

“Once I commandeer new garments, I shall return it to you.”

“About the commandeering thing. You can’t bully people into giving you stuff.”

“Yes, I can. I’m quite good at it.” Spoken in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You’ll end up being arrested if you try that tactic.”

“I require supplies, though, to do the Mother’s work.”

“Pretty sure they won’t care. Most people like to be paid.”

I know how she could pay us. Baptiste stumbled at Garou’s lewd suggestion.

“Paid?” She snorted. “In my day, we traded.”

“Same thing. And need I remind you that your naked ass has nothing to trade.”

“I will give them the Mother’s thanks.”

“Again. People prefer something tangible.”

She growled. “Then you will pay them for me.”

“Sorry, but I ain’t got squat to give. I left everything behind.”

“Could you be any more useless?” she lamented.

No. But I’m sure he’ll try.

Baptiste couldn’t help but be offended by both of them.

“You know what, I don’t care. Here’s the house I was telling you about. You’re on your own now.” He dumped her on the porch but before she could knock the door opened.

Seeing who stood framed in the doorway, Baptiste just about turned and fled. They were two people he knew well. People he used to call friends.

Nelly smiled at him. “Hey, Baptiste. Long time no see.”

Too long, Garou agreed.

Whereas Clive nodded his head and said, “Yo.”

His heart tightened. Not too long ago, he and Clive had been really close friends. He wanted to run at the sight of the pity in their gazes.

A gruff, “What are you doing here?” emerged from his mouth.

“Yvonne told us to come.” Yvonne being another person he’d worked with. A seer of the future. She must have sent them to help with Daphne.

Baptiste pointed to the stray he’d literally picked up in the woods. “This is Daphne. She needs to be kitted out. She was just released from a curse and is supposedly on some mission for Mother Earth.”

Daphne stepped forward, much smaller in stature compared to Nelly and yet she stared boldly.

“You are a warrior woman.” Daphne nodded approvingly. Then her gaze went to Clive and her lips parted. “It’s you. You helped to destroy the curse holding me captive.”

“I did?” Clive sounded surprised.

“You and the magic killer.”

“Are you talking about Ruby?” Ruby being the woman Baptiste had been convinced he loved because of the spell cast on him. The odd thing being Ruby usually cancelled all magic, except for the spell that made him think he loved her.

“You and she, working together, freed me from the tree.”

Clive’s eyes widened. “Wait a second, you were inside there that whole time?”

“Not anymore.” Daphne’s lips curved as she said, “It is time for me to resume the Mother’s work.”

“What work is that?” Nelly asked.

“Eliminating her enemies, of course.”