Page 26 of Wolf's Return
Constance curtsied. “Good morrow, Mes Dames.”
Dame Erin waved her off. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony here, Constance. It’s just Erin and Bek and Kathryn. Please. Calling me Dame makes me feel like an old woman.”
“But…but Ma Dame, I am but a peasant, and you are—”
Erin laid the journal on the desk. “In my world, I had no title to speak of. And Bek worked in an alehouse. We’re all friends here.”
Friends?To be included in this select group of women, if only in this moment, warmed her.
Constance bobbed her head. “As you wish, Ma D—Erin.” She dodged another swing of Kathryn’s sword.
Erin rolled her eyes. “Kathryn, will you put that thing away? You’re going to hurt someone if you’re not careful.”
Kathryn clutched her weapon with two hands and swung, beheading an imaginary foe. “Aimon gave it to me this morning,” she said, puffing from her exertions. “He is going to teach me how to use it.”
“Yeah, well, maybe…should you wait, then, before you…” Bek waved her hand at Kathryn’s prancing about. Sprawled in a chair by the brazier, dressed in the finery of the nobility, she frowned. “Why you need…know how…a sword, anyway?” Bek’s words were halting, muddled and difficult to comprehend, each word punctuated by intense concentration. “You werewolf. No need…fight with swords. We got”—she tapped at her mouth—“teeth”—she wiggled her fingers—“and claws now.”
The last time Constance had met Bek she had not spoken Franceis. Women from the future were so quick to adapt.
“Werewolf blood has improved Bek’s memory, and her ability to learn, but she still has a long way to go,” said Erin. “She understands more than she can speak, though she is getting better. Sometimes it takes Kathryn and I a few moments to decipher what she’s trying to say.” She turned to Bek. “You need to work on your tenses and sentence structure. You’re all over the place.”
Bek jabbed her middle finger at Erin in some sort of rude gesture. In response, Erin poked her tongue out. Both of them laughed, neither woman taking offense.Quick to adapt and a little unusual.
“The men are all werewolves, and they know how to use a sword.” Kathryn twirled and stabbed, her flame-colored hair swinging about her shoulders as wildly as her sword. “Why should I not know, too?”
Constance settled herself in the chair Monsieur D’Artagnon hid beneath as Kathryn reluctantly lowered her sword and sheathed it in its scabbard.
Kathryn sat, hands clasped in her lap, the epitome of good breeding that had been absent but a moment ago. “Good morrow, Constance. I trust you slept well.”
“Thank you, yes.” Apart from her dream of kissing a naked and human Monsieur D’Artagnon. She glanced at the black wolf. His head poked out around her skirts and nestled on his paws. Or perhaps because of it.
“Right, down to business,” said Erin. “After what you learned yesterday from Old Tumas, I’ve been searching Gaharet’s father’s journal to see what else I could find out about these Cordelias.”
“I’m surprised…found time…you to read any, Erin,” interrupted Bek. “You…hurling too much…doing.”
Erin pressed her hand to her mouth. “Please don’t mention it. It makes me want to do it more.” Erin rubbed her face with her hands. “One more reason not to be happy about being pregnant.”
“You are not happy about being with child? Why ever not?” asked Kathryn.
“It’s not… Don’t get me wrong, Kathryn. I love Gaharet, and yes, I want to have his babies, but… Well, for one, the timing isawful. We may not be in hiding anymore, or hunted by the comte, but things are far from safe. The traitor is still out there. He’s already murdered numerous women and children. I don’t think me being pregnant would stop him. In fact, I’m a two for one deal right now.” She blew out a long breath. “Besides, I would have liked to have a little more time enjoying my relationship with Gaharet. He’s not the only one missing the sex.”
A vision of Erin laughing, wearing only her chemise, and a naked Seigneur Gaharet chasing her around the bedchamber, flashed into Constance’s mind. She quickly banished it. Sometimes her visions were helpful, lifesaving even. Sometimes they were a warning. But others…others she regretted being privy to.
“There are a few herbs useful to ease the nausea of pregnancy,” offered Constance. She tapped her grimoire. “I have some tinctures detailed in here.”
Erin brightened. “Really? That would be wonderful. The ginger tea Anne prepares for me just isn’t cutting it. Right.” Erin slapped her hands down on the table. “Now that’s settled, can we get back to the witches, these Cordelias, and what’s in that book of yours?”
“I do not suppose…? If there is something in your book for Erin’s problem”—eagerness shone in Kathryn’s eyes—“could there be something in your book that could help with memory?My memory, specifically. If I could remember something more about my attack, we may be able to work out who the traitor is.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Erin. “Kathryn was there when Gaharet’s mother died, Constance. The murderer also attacked Kathryn, turning her. We believe it’s the same werewolf that has turned traitor to the pack. But Kathryn can’t remember much. If you could help her get her memories back… Well, then there would be no great urgency to get D’Artagnon to shift. That would make Gaharet happy. I think he’d rather not push his brother too hard in case he leaves.”
D’Artagnon raised his head, catching her gaze, a steely glint in his eye. Constance frowned. It should please him there might be an alternative to him shifting. That sense she was missing something returned, hovering beyond reach. She let it go. It would come to her in its own time.
Constance considered Kathryn’s request. She could think of a couple of herbs to aid memory. “I will need to use double the dosage, or maybe triple,” she cautioned. “Most herbal potions have little to no effect on a werewolf. The herbs I used to ease Erin’s and Bek’s turnings were in high doses and had to be taken at regular intervals lest they wear off too soon. It is the way of werewolves. There are herbs that can kill a human that werewolves would survive.”
Kathryn and Erin excitedly discussed the possibilities, but Constance was no longer listening, her mind whirling.There are herbs that can kill a human that werewolves would survive.Some of the most toxic plants were also the most powerful. She rubbed her hand absently over the binding of her grimoire, glancing at the furry head of the black wolf at her feet. Three in particular came to mind. Ones her ancestors had used in small quantities.
Would it work? Could a werewolf’s immunity to poisons be the answer? She opened her grimoire, flicking through the pagesuntil she found what she was looking for. A potion oft used by witches for purification, to enhance visions and to increase their power—mandrake root, henbane and deadly nightshade.
