Chapter 5

Chapter5

Baptiste couldn’t stop thinkingabout Daphne. What a strange—and violent—woman. Er, dryad. Whatever. She definitely left an impression.

She’s awesome.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Baptiste grumbled.

You never talk to me anymore. Now it’s all wah, wah, wah, woe is me. Might as well just let me take over permanently. At least I know how to have fun.

“Your idea of fun will get you shot with silver bullets one day,” he muttered.

Only if I’m slow.

“Speaking of shifting, the full moon is coming soon. If you’re going to hunt, stick to the quarry area. No woods. You know the Pack sometimes runs there.”

Spoilsport. I’m all that is left of the wolf god. The Pack wants me to rule them.

“Because they’ve never talked to the real you.”

No time to chat when we’re howling and chasing prey. You should try it, even if you’re slow on your two legs.

“You know I don’t eat meat.”

Explains a lot about your weak nature. Rabbits only eat vegetables too. Ask me how that’s working for them.

“Stop trying to convert me.” He’d long eschewed eating anything with a face. Garou only had himself to blame. When Baptiste had woken up one day when he was a teen, staring into the dead eyes of a young doe, he’d sworn off meat.

Look sharp. We have company.

What?

Perched on a rock by the quarry-turned-lake, Baptiste almost toppled as he whirled too quick. Danger stalked in the shape of a curvy, hip swinging Daphne. She’d gotten dressed in killer gear since they last met, replete with daggers strapped to her side. Silver-plated daggers, he noted.

“How did you find me?” he barked. He’d been careful about hiding his tracks.

“The Mother guided my steps.”

“Come to kill me?” he asked, leaping to the ground. “Can we make it quick? The Garou is being a real tick in my ass.”

Not my fault someone hasn’t been taking our monthly dose of Advantix.

“I have need of your services,” Daphne declared.

“Not for hire.”

“Never said I was going to pay you.”

“Then I’m definitely not interested.” A lie. He kind of wondered why she’d sought him out. Surely Clive or Nelly were in better positions to help.

“You know how to drive a vehicle.” Stated, not asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. You will take me to where the Mother has need of me.”

Yay. Road trip.

“No.”

Garou instantly pouted.

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t say you had a choice.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, leave me out of it.”

“Why? It’s not like you’re busy, unless moping and pouting count.”

Burn!

The ganging up led to him scowling. “What I’m doing is none of your business.”

“I see we’re going to do this the hard way. Which one, left or right?”

“Excuse me, what?” he sputtered.

“Would you like me to start removing fingernails on your left or right hand? Or should I start with your toes?”

“Are you insane? You can’t torture me into going.”

“Says someone who’s never been tortured by me. I assure you, I’m quite good. I’ve only rarely had to start cutting off digits to get what I want.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “How is someone as violent as you close to the Earth Mother? I thought her disciples were all nice and caring and nurturing folk.”

“Some are. But I am her Paladin. Her warrior on Earth. I do what her wishy-washy subjects can’t,” Daphne stated, looking utterly serious and sounding quite homicidal.

Isn’t she the best?

“You’re the Earth Mother’s killer,” Baptiste clarified.

“I thought that was already clear.”

Like, duh. Even I grasped that.

He ignored Garou. “Why do you have such a problem with the word no?”

“Why must you make this difficult? We both know I’m going to win.”

“You do realize I’m several times your size.”

“I have it on good authority you won’t hit me.” Her lips quirked. “Strange rule this era has about men not striking women.”

“Shouldn’t you applaud that, given you are a woman?”

“I don’t need a male to treat me differently. Let him hit me, but he’d better do it hard enough to knock me out because when I retaliate, he will regret it.”

Damn. I might be in love. Garou practically swooned.

Baptiste clenched his fists, mostly in annoyance because she was right about one thing. He wouldn’t hit her. He spread his arms. “You know what, Psycho. Do it. Torture me. Kill me. I don’t care.”

She huffed. “So melodramatic.”

Agreed.

“Shut up,” he growled.

Her brow arched. “I will not shut up.”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

Her frown cleared and a small smile took its place. “Your Garou agrees with me.”

“My Garou is just as annoying and psycho as you.”

“Pity I can’t deal with him directly. Alas, a wolf probably can’t drive too well, meaning I am stuck with you.”

“I told you no.”

No surprise, Daphne ignored him. “You will meet me in the SMU parking lot at dawn. Nelly and Clive have already promised to have your vehicle ready for departure.”

“I’m not coming.”

“You are. You just need to do one thing first.”

“What?”

“Bathe.”

He didn’t expect her to suddenly lunge at his midsection.

Oomph.

She drove into him with far more force than expected for someone her size. The strength and surprise of it led to him falling backwards over the edge of the quarry—Splash!—into the water.

He sputtered as he surfaced. “Not cool!”

“I refuse to sit in close confines with you smelling like a dung pile baked in the sun.”

“I’m not going!” he bellowed as he treaded water.

But did she listen?”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before he could protest, a horn suddenly speared between his legs. The narwhal he’d disturbed lifted him clear from the water and tossed him!

Wheeeee!

Kersplash.

He landed, arms and legs flailing. Not for long. The second watery beast that lived in the flooded quarry picked him up and whipped him back. By the time he dragged his soggy ass to shore, the reek of sweat and the grime of dirt had all been sluiced. He also had an audience.

His uncle Frederick stood on the shore, and he’d not come alone.

Fuck.

Baptiste hoisted himself from the water before growling, “What do you want?”

“I’ve come to bring you home.”

The demand had him shaking his head. “We both know that’s impossible.”

“What happened with Diandra was unfortunate, but everyone, including her parents, understands you’re not at fault. There will be no charges laid. Our lawyer had them dismissed on the grounds of temporarily cursed insanity.”

The claim would explain why the SMU and cops hadn’t been trying to hunt him down for arrest. “I don’t want to go back. Find someone else to lead the pack.”

“We both know that can’t happen so long as you are the Garou.”

“You’ve been leading just fine up until now.”

“Things are changing in the world. With the return of the Monster King, we require a strong leader to ensure the Pack’s safety.”

“The Garou isn’t that remedy. He’s more likely to piss off the king by trying to eat his subjects.”

Uncle Frederick didn’t find his truthful response amusing. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. You will return whether you want to or not.”

The demand explained why his uncle came with the largest bullies in the Pack. They planned to try and take him by force.

“Try” being the key word.

They’ll regret it.

Baptiste sighed. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“I could say the same. Come peacefully and there won’t be any need to get ugly.”

What was it with people threatening him today? Then again, Daphne hadn’t followed through. Not yet, at any rate.

“Leave me alone.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” His uncle pulled a tranquilizing gun from the inside of his jacket. “This is for your own good.”

As he fired, Baptiste dodged. However, he’d not counted on the other Pack members firing at the same time. The darts struck, and despite his extremely fast metabolism and resistance to drugs, lethargy spread quickly through his veins. He blinked as his vision wavered. His uncle had made sure to bring elephant-sized doses.

Garou bellowed, Let me out.

Promise you won’t kill them. Baptiste knew better than to demand he not hurt anyone.

I won’t be taken alive!

The best he was going to get.

Baptiste let go, and Garou exploded from his skin and clothes as he took over.

What followed was a violent mess.

For the opposition.

As a wolf, Baptiste had always been bigger than the rest. As Garou, a wolfman on two legs, he was a veritable monster, and he loved to fight.

Garou roared with delight as he swung to grab a dart gun, yanking it from Pascal’s grip and tossing it in the water. Pascal charged and Garou grabbed, lifted with ease, and flung him, the splash bringing the narwhals to the surface to play with their new ball.

The other men—Joel and Lawrence—had emptied their tranquilizer guns and charged him together. Their fleshy shapes were no match. Garou’s long reach let him grab them by the arms. His strength allowed him to veer their momentum so they crashed into each other. They hit the ground hard and groaned.

Garou waited—impatiently—growling, “I barely touched you. Get up.”

The challenge was accepted and he got to pummel them a bit more before they slumped and refused to play anymore.

By the time Garou showed Frederick’s minions the error of their ways, the sedative had burned through his elevated metabolism. The traitors to the Pack’s god lay on the ground groaning, bruised, and bleeding. Not the so-called Alpha though. That coward fled.

He’ll be back, Baptiste warned. And next time he’ll come better prepared.

“You should let me eat him.”

No eating people. We’ve talked about this.

“Then what? He’s going to try again.”

Garou made a good point.

Hence why when Daphne arrived at the SMU parking lot the following morning, she found Baptiste dressed in the clean clothes he’d found in the back, sitting in the driver’s seat of his truck.