The idea of a familiar grew and grew in her. And, even though her concerns kept being just as logical, she found herself planning contingencies for if her attempt went wrong, more than she was debating if she should be doing it at all.

  She desperately wished she could talk to Birch or Agnes about it, but that wasn't in the cards. Especially when Shilloh was feeling more confident that Birch was not using drugs. It was insane, and not logical, but she was very, very adverse to over-trusting a second drug dealer.

  Shilloh waited until the caravan had come to a stop before finally taking action. There had been some sort of creature whose teeth fell out at a constant rate, and it seemed, by luck or evolution, to be perfectly adapted towards popping tires and stopping caravans. Caltrops and road hazards fell from it like rain from the sky; truly, it was a wonderful time to be alive.

  The creature had successfully flattened several tires, then been quickly neutralized by the caravan's guards. To her surprise, she learned via the two human-shaped gossip conduits sharing her vehicle that the creature had been tamed and was used by three human bandits hoping to prey on smaller, less well-guarded groups.

  The bandits had been able to escape into the wilds relatively easily. No one here was law enforcement; they kept their group safe, not whatever merry band came through this road next. There had been no effort at pursuit.

  She found herself more furious about them abandoning their working animal than about the damage. She would never treat her familiar that way.

  When the thought crossed her mind, she finally accepted the inevitable. Ever since meeting Scotty, she had been thinking constantly about getting a familiar. This was the final sign telling her to get serious about it.

  With that in mind, she made her way down the line of vehicles to see if she could find her new friend and (probable) trainer.

  The walk was short. Though they were a large group, the line of vehicles was not particularly long since they could go two abreast.

  They were in an area that still had old asphalt roads, though none of the paint remained. The forest was encroaching, roots had broken sections from below, and what had once been completely clear grassy lanes bracketing the road now had saplings and bushes. Still, someone with a background like hers could see that the proper forest had been semi-routinely cut back so the branches never overhung the road.

  All in all, the region was a little hilly, and the range of vision cut off within ten feet of the forest's edge. That made the roads feel oddly claustrophobic. The unusually thick underbrush was both unregulated and lush, thanks to the usual amount of sunlight that came from clearing tree limbs whose greedy leaves would have otherwise stolen the sun twenty feet before it reached the ground.

  As a dryad, she was probably supposed to hate seeing the roads and damaged nature, but she actually liked it. Aside from the human conveniences she personally benefited from, the roads were trivial: smaller than hairline scars in a forest's massive body. Plus, as someone short enough to have been emotionally scarred by trying to play basketball, she liked seeing the little guys in the underbrush get a chance at the sun.

  It was also a great sign for humanity. Roads like this were the symptom of a well-managed state government. The federal government was too busy keeping the big threats from becoming terminal threats to handle any but the most strategically essential interstates. After all those massive asphalt causeways had originally been made to offer employment during economic turmoil, they also served as a military asset. Should the United States ever be invaded, the military wanted well-maintained, known routes for moving people, tanks, and who knows what else wherever it needed to go. Additionally, they had made the interstates so that there were periodic stretches of it that were both long and wide enough for aircraft to land.

  All those reasons still applied during the slow-motion apocalypse. Employment was harder to track, let alone manage, considering how off-grid some frontier regions had become. But all the other reasons were more true now than ever since cryptos were a randomly generating hostile force within the country's bounds.

  These particular roads were not patrolled, fixed, guarded, or cared about to that level. No one was landing a plane here. Still, she suspected that some mages, like her grandma, probably had a job where they went down these roads with their own guard, burning or cutting back the growth, while others maintained key highways.

  Though 'maintained' didn't mean they were the best. They were still hell on a car's suspension, and had no reflectors or warning signs on them like the interstates. But they certainly had made her last few days easier.

  All those thoughts rumbled through the back of her head as she scanned the long double line of parked vehicles, waiting for their forerunners to replace their wheels.

  Such stops were not routine, but they were fairly common. Many people were out stretching their legs, just like her. Most stayed closer to their rides lest they be late returning to their vehicles and earn everyone else's ire.

  Scotty and Wade were easy to spot because they were both walking out of a modified sedan and straight into the woods. That took uncommon confidence or unfortunately common stupidity to do in the middle of unexplored woods like this.

  Wade was the first one to catch her eyes, even though she had been looking for Scotty. It galled her, but after being kidnapped the first time, she had gotten a good therapist and—as an unfortunate side effect—an uncomfortable amount of self-awareness.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  It infuriated her to admit it, but at some point, she had developed something of a crush on Wade.

  The time in the car together on her first day had shattered any illusions to the contrary that she'd held. Knowing she should have said 'no' to sharing a car, the erratic way her mind jumped while they spoke, and her inability to stop laughing at his dumb jokes had made it clear.

  There were reasons, even some good reasons, for her to feel that way. He was handsome without being a pretty-boy. They had great conversations, and even when she got pissed at him, he listened and was willing to admit he had been wrong if given a compelling case.

  At the same time, the whole situation was complicated and bullshit, and she hated it.

  Too much idle time in a car, and that damn baby he had held, Kinsie, had lowered her guard. Now, a sex drive that she had spent ages starving into complacency was suddenly screaming at her, she was avoiding a boy she had a crush on even though she was closing in on thirty, and the side effects of big magic usage made her feelings even harder to pack away into a box and repress like a regular adult.

  It was utter bullshit. Really, seeing him help the worm had tempered the rage that might have protected her, but this was all Kinsie's fault. Well, Kinsie and Shilloh's own stupid biological clock.

  The two men who had set off her annoyance were walking, rubbing at their stomachs, and laughing. Her eyes fell to Wade's ass. Thoughts of the bite-ability scale returned to her. But now, rather than laughing, she actually felt the hot fumes of something staring behind her collarbones. A tightening in her thighs, and a need to claw her fingers in—

  "Kinsie," she whispered under her breath, "You stupid bitch. I bet you throw your ass around all day and spread diaper rash around half the day care."

  She growled, straightened her back, and called out to the two men while jogging forward.

  ~~~

  "Okay," Scotty said, as just the two of them rambled along the side of the road. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about without Wade?"

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noting the distended stomach and glazed look in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm getting old," he said, patting his stomach. "I can't eat the way I did as a teen—" Before he could finish, a massive roar of a burp erupted from his lips. The sort of thing so deep and rumbly that it sounded like it had escaped from the throat of a creature much larger than him.

  "Ugh," he groaned, holding his stomach and wincing.

  Shilloh stared at him open-mouthed.

  He gave her a pained wince like he was about to apologize, but she cut him off by slapping both arms to her side and bowing low from the waist.

  "I knew I picked the right sensei. Teach me your ways."

  He snorted out a little breath. "Don't worry, Padawon, after years of training, you too will be able to ruin a date from half a football field away."

  The mention of a date made her wince, and she rushed forward, hoping to change the topic.

  "Training is actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Has Wade read you in on me and my abilities?"

  "Yes. You're a fancy-prancy nature pants."

  She should have been insulted, considering her rich cultural heritage and constant fear of death. But from Scotty, it was okay and just laughed, "Yeah. That sums up most of it."

  "You willing to tell me the rest?"

  That was a good question. She liked him; he already knew the secret that made her so at risk for kidnapping. But he didn't know the secret that could, so long as it was unknown, make it impossible to figure out how to safely kidnap her.

  Her instincts said to trust him. But they weren't magical instincts, just her gut.

  Oily, purple, cringing, caustic feelings bubbled up in her like lava lamp as images of her first kidnapping flashed through her mind.

  "You mind if I hold off? Apparently, we're supposed to keep secrets if given the choice."

  "Sure," he said, sounding utterly unbothered." That's probably smart. We'll see what we need to know once your future role is worked out anyway."

  "Okay. Thanks."

  They navigated around a small tree trunk that had started degrading into an irregular fiber mass.

  "And you're not mad about it?"

  Scotty just shrugged, "Trust, transparency, and privacy are all different things. All have their place, and it's only fair if I only get goal-oriented transparency until I can earn your actual trust."

  "… Okay, probably super important and profound truth right there, but it doesn't answer the question."

  Scotty laughed, "You're fine. But, not to be rude, I genuinely put more sugar and fat through my body than I've had in the last month. Nature and I need some alone time."

  "You sure going to be okay?"

  He winked at her and tapped at his midriff, "I've got a latrine gun. I'll be safe. Plus Wade and I always do this to celebrate meeting up," he burped again and winced. "Though the indigestion and newly developed opinion that something can be 'too sweet' has only recently developed with age. Still, I'll survive tonight, and moderation will begin tomorrow."

  Boys were dumb, she thought. But, in a rare show of self-control, she kept that inside thought inside for once.

  "Okay. So the thing I wanted to talk to you about was familiars."

  "And?"

  " I want your help finding a crypto that I can make my familiar. It will almost certainly be against some sort of rules, and I worry that Jasque or Wade would kill a crypto on sight."

  "Not if we pick a safe one."

  "Yeah," she winced, not looking forward to this part. "There are different ways to get familiars, but right now, with who I am now, I'm not going to 'pick' my familiar so much as stumble on a candidate and find a profound bond forming that will grow increasingly mystical as time goes by."

  Scotty stared at her as his hands fussed with his shirt. "How much control do you have over this?"

  "That is an interesting and complicated question. For our purposes, let's just say little to none. I will find a familiar that will fill a need."

  "I notice you a 'a need' not your current need."

  She gave him a weak little smile.

  "Okay. Then let's just hold off till we're somewhere that is predisposed to have a good candidate."

  The smile grew weaker. Honestly, at that point, it may have been a grimace. "Yeahhhh. Thing is, I haven't formally started or really kicked it into gear, but I'm in a period of, uh, let's call it magical growth and transition."

  "Okay."

  "It might, right now—after I pushed my magic too hard protecting Wade—maybe, be the sort of thing that can just sort of slip out."

  He stared.

  She gave him very awkward finger guns.

  "Fucking monster bait, francy prancy nature bullshit."

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