Chapter Seventeen - Part Four

“Look,” I said, taking a tenacious step forward. “We have a mutual friend – her name is Claudia. She sent me here because she needs ingredients for a spell. And she said you three would be able to help me out.”

The triplet on the right let out a short, amused scream of laughter, covering her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other. And the one on the left had finally looked up, but was now staring fearfully to the sister in the middle, who was standing perfectly still but now with an almost savage sneer across her face. Ethan and I whirled in reflex as the shop’s blinds suddenly flipped closed, instantly darkening the room and blocking our view from the street.

“That hood rat,” the middle witch began. “Stuck me and my sisters with a tab for a six-hundred dollar balance, so hopefully you understand if I’m not really in the mood for doing her friends any favors.”

“Yeah? Well, what if I pay Claudia’s tab?” Ethan said, speaking up. “Then would that cover it?”

The three sisters seemed to be silently considering this amongst themselves as they exchanged quick looks.

“We know that you’re Wolves,” the sister on the left said. “So what color is your fur?”

“Come again?” Ethan said.

“Your fur. The color. What is it?” she replied with impatience.

“Uh, brown?” he replied, with a blink.

“And yours?” she said to me.

“It’s white. My fur is white, why?”

All three women were smiling now, looking positively evil with glee.

“You’re lying,” accused the middle sister. “Your fur isn’t white.”

I rolled my eyes. I hoped it wasn’t going to turn into one of those conversations.

“Seriously guys? Please tell me that this doesn’t have anything to do with skin color.”

“Naomi,” Ethan said. “Is that true? Is your coat really white?”

“What?” I said, with a smile that masked exasperation. “Do I have to show all of you to prove it? Is that it?”

“White werewolves can’t take human form,” said the sister on the right. “It’s impossible – you should be impossible.”

“Well, last time I checked I still existed. Why are you asking about our fur anyway?”

“Werewolf fur can be very useful in certain spells,” she replied. “Harmless ones of course.”

“Alright then. That’s all I need to hear.” I said, already knowing where it was that this was headed. Shoving the warnings of the stranger’s note to the back of my mind, I took off my jacket, and handed it to Ethan before stopping down to unlace the Doc Martens that I had borrowed from Addy.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in disbelief.

“What? Like you don’t dream of seeing me naked?” I said to his blush. “Try not to take too much off the top, m’kay?” I said, with a single nod to the middle sister, whose smile was anything but reassuring.

But I could do this. I had suffered worse indignities than having to merely stand, naked and exposed, in front of a bunch of other people who were all fully clothed. So this sudden, unprepared publicity actually didn’t cause me to cross my legs or fold my arms over my chest. Instead, I removed all the rest of my clothing and stood, unashamed, with my hands hanging calmly down at my sides.

The change came fairly quick, as always, but not without pain. During these times, as bones broke and fur developed, I registered little else but the agony. Sure, you could open your mouth to scream if you could suck down enough air to do it, but that sound you emitted would eventually morph into a blood-curdling, hair-raising howl of torture and discomfort. It must have been a hideous, stomach-turning, gut-wrenching process to behold – a girl falling to her knees, grunting and heaving with the pains of transformation, but it wasn’t all ugly. There was some beauty to it, I had always thought.

But the point is that one minute I was a girl, naked, in the middle of that room. And the next, the white wolf was standing in her place.

*  *  *

The wolf sat on its haunches, with paws relaxed and ears that were alert. It was beautiful – a small alp of rumbling white with only Naomi’s vibrant green eyes to be recognized as her. It was regal and composed, watchful and intent. But something else within the wolf exuded a coldness and detachment from everything else as well.

It watched as the middle sister paused, and then selected a small paring knife with a sharpened, curved blade. The sister moved from behind the counter now, and her red, stiletto, heels were clicking across the tiles as she approached the silent, unmoving creature.

“You know, you really shouldn’t exist,” the woman said, bending down and raising the knife. It was just centimeters from the wolf’s snout. “And yet here you are. There’s something off about you, little one.”

But the wolf was unaffected, and remained as still as a statue. The Witches’ words seemed to neither frighten nor disturb it. In fact, there was barely a flicker of emotion from behind those flawless, green eyes. They were trained steadfastly upon the Witch, indicating that of course it had heard, and still didn’t care. The knife was no threat, and neither was the Witch or her words.

So with a mournful sigh for her small, unfamiliar failure, the Witch cut herself a small lock of the wolf’s fur. She then straightened, and then briefly observed the material in her palm. Then, satisfied, away the heels were clicking as the wolf’s purpose ceased. And knowing this, it left, to return the naked girl to her place.

*  *  *

“Satisfied?” I asked the Witches, who waited patiently for me as I redressed. Beside me, Ethan did his best to act as a cover, biting his lip and staring fixedly away.

“If that one promises he’ll still pay Claudia’s tab, and if you, Naomi, cover the cost of her ingredients, then I would say we have ourselves a deal.” the middle Witch replied.

I finished dressing and then made my way to the counter, setting the list down atop its smooth, spotless surface. Meanwhile, the sister on the right walked right up to the wall directly behind herself and her sisters. She dropped her hand and then began to raise it across her chest in a single, fluid movement, as if she were trying to mimic the motion of sunrise to sunset.

Together, Ethan and I watched in amazement as the entire back wall of The Bakery began to shimmer and ripple, reminding me of colors bleeding and running into one another on a palette. And I hardly noticed as the sister on the left exited her position from behind the counter. She walked past and blew a kiss at a stunned Ethan before flipping the store’s welcome sign to closed, and then locking the door.

By now – and all within a matter of seconds – the back wall had disappeared entirely, leaving in its place a vast opening to a large room. The floors and walls were all made of rough cement, with light bulbs that hung bare and swayed in a cold breeze. They lit up five, tall, wooden shelves that were stocked with jars and containers that were of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Some were filled with liquids, and others had powders or gels within them, while many seemed to have nothing in them at all.

I inhaled deeply, and there was the strong scent of mary-jane and other unfamiliar herbs on the air, that were all dispatched through a powerful AC. Like the smells, you couldn’t notice the air conditioner earlier, but it was apparent now, and faintly humming from some unseen corner of the room.

“But from the outside there’s no way this place could be this big.” Ethan said, looking around him in both wonder and skepticism. “The Bakery is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside…”

“Oh sweetheart,” said the middle sister, eyeing Ethan with a look that was closely resembling in mockery. “This process is so much simpler without questions – they tend to overcomplicate things. Uh, Naomi –” she said, turning to me now. “We run a business that only works because we remain exclusive. In other words, discretion is key. We trust you understand…?”

“Ethan and I were never here.” I assured. “As long as you’re still suffering from amnesia about my fur…”

“Deal. And I must admit, we really do appreciate you and your friend for settling Claudia’s debt. Business has run a little slow these days, and members of the Red Hand have been unusually quiet.”

“Uh, the Red Hand?” I asked, feeling ignorant, but trying to be as polite about it as I could.

“Our old coven.” she explained. “We’re not really on speaking terms at the moment, which is bad for the money, but, what can you do? We still try to look out for our Witch-Sisters as best we can, which is why we got in involved with Claudia to begin with. But I’d keep an eye on that one, if I were you. She seems innocent at first, but she’s false as water underneath…”

“Well to be honest, I don’t know her that well,” I admitted. “And Ethan’s never even met her. So we’re really doing this more out of necessity than anything.”

“Oh, well, that’s completely understandable. Besides we’re all just doing what we can to stay ahead in a world that only wants to see its own destruction.” The Witch replied in deep reflection. “Anyway, we wouldn’t entirely hate it if you two returned for more business in the future. And Claudia doesn’t have to be the middle man – feel free to come straight to the source. Remember, the more business we do the better your discount becomes…”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind, thank you.” I said, and turned to Ethan, who was suddenly captivated by the sister from the left. She walked up to Ethan, absently setting down a glass jar full of what appeared to be toe nails on top of the counter.

“Hey slick, want me to read your palm in the bathroom?” she asked, coyly.

Wide-eyed, Ethan didn’t say anything but merely turned to look at me, as if asking for my permission to go.

“Fifteen minutes,” I said, as she began to lead him away. “I mean it, that’s all you’re getting.”

“Moira, she did it again!” the middle sister called to the other sister who remained working, before turning to me and rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry, she really is going to read his palm. She just got her power, so she wants the practice.”

“Hey, doesn’t bother me. You saw he quickly he left. That’s his business.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive,” I lied.

Instead, I focused on feeling confident that I would have a reason to return to The Bakery in the future, and in feeling satisfied in knowing that the triplets would be of full service. I didn’t really want to think about my Champion, alone, in a bathroom with another girl. So instead, I shrugged it off and lied. Because such were the strategies of restless, treacherous minds like my own. We’re constantly using others to help scheme and battle away the ghosts of our past and present. But that’s how we live.

And it's also how we survive.