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“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.”
