Chapter 25
Updated: Oct 18
Snowed In with a Bigfoot, a Yeti, & a Werewolf
by Honey Cummings
The elevator lurched to a stop and dinged. They were back on the lobby level. Wilma had barely managed to tug on the hat and damn-near choked herself wrapping the scarf back around her neck. With the marks covered, she swallowed down the guilt it brought her. It was necessary until she could figure out what it all meant. The marriage, the Queen of Three, and how her feelings for all of them and where she stood in their lives settled. Marching out, she fanned herself, aimless as the flurry of people seemed to ignore her.
Well, at first.
Whispers and knowing nods, but it all seemed … off.
Then she realized they weren’t staring at her.
They were staring at Boone.
She spun around.
A mixture of excitement and dread filled her.
Oh no! We’re back to this again!
Boone was in full-blown bigfoot mode in a very busy lobby.
Wilma’s heart leapt to her throat, eyes wide. “Boone,” she managed to choke out.
“I know.” He dragged a hand over his face.
“Excuse me sir.” A man nudged him to the side and Wilma did a double-take.
All around only the non-humans were arching a brow while the humans seemed to just think he was … normal. Just some big lumbering dude standing in the way. A wall of a fellow human being blocking their way to the elevator.
“There’s a charm in place. They won’t even know a bigfoot was walking around.” He nudged Wilma along. “Do you think your grandmother will be at the buffet today?”
“Does it still have ice cream?” she drawled.
“W-wait, wait,” Wilma stopped and spun back to him, his body hot and fur soft where she pressed her hands against his muscular torso. “What do you mean by a charm?”
“Like at the B.O.O.T. Lodge?” Boone gripped her shoulders, spinning her in a direction. “Keep walking to the buffet, ladybug. We need some mountain witch advice.”
“She’s the one who caused the snowstorm,” hissed Wilma waving an arm at the complete whiteout seen through the front glass doors and windows.
“Which means, she might actually have known something, right?” Boone’s words brought the swell of misleading and obnoxiously on point commentary she had received from Granny Anderson. “You’re right.” She picked up speed, marching for the buffet entrance in view leaving Boone behind. “Granny seems to know what and where I’ve been even though my phone died days ago.”
Looking over her shoulder, she marveled at how the whole lobby seemed to be more settled than it had been when Tenzin walked through it. It hadn’t been her. Tenzin. His reputation in his own ski lodge was unsettling, and what tyrannical boss mode had he been running the place on? Watching the faces, she couldn’t help but notice the confused looks the glowing pink heart mark on Boone’s shoulder earned. The whispers were starting to catch fire.
“What race has that as a mark?” One man asked another. “Sirens maybe?”
“No, my cousin bonded with a siren. It’s the wrong color,” remarked the other.
A woman smirked, whispering to her male counterpart. “It’s a rather cute mark, I would totally say yes to bonding with whoever can leave that one.”
There was a gasp, an older man and the two women hanging off each arm equally stunned. “What power that mark carries!”
Wilma looked at Boone's face.
Surely he hears them too.
Her worries melted away. The high chin and goofy bigfoot grin was only matched by his happy grunts. Stifling a giggle, she turned back to face forward into–
SMACK!
Bouncing off the very naked man before her, she toppled backwards until Boone caught her. He slid her back onto her feet, towering over her protectively and a growl escaped him. Rubbing her sore nose, she blinked to regain her focus through the pain.
Red.
A familiar red lacey bra and panties swung before her. Thoroughly tangled in the antlers.
“Forgive me, Queen of Three, I didn’t see you there, Your Majesty.”
“My underwear,” Wilma breathed as the very quiet lobby weighed down on her. “You have my underwear hanging off your horns,” she stated firmly.
“And it’s a great honor!” He stood up and Wilma darted her eyes away from the naked … person before her. “Now excuse me, we’re throwing a stag party for our friend Joseph.” He leaned in and Wilma held her breath, bewildered by his demeanor. “Not every day you meet someone who was blessed by the Baba Yaga and fucked a dragon.” Then he whispered, “We’re hoping to find him someone to hook up with at your coronation gala. Your blessing should surely aid him in his next conquest.”
Wilma’s nose throbbed and she closed her eyes. “Deer guy,” she drawled. “A stag party?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He was tall, naked, and very wet for some reason now that she looked at the floor and where he had come from.
“Why are you so wet?” She couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay.
“Oh, hot tubs are that way.” He pointed vaguely where a crowd had gathered. “You should join us.”
Boone clamped a hand over her mouth. “She will not join you.” She smiled under his hand at his jealous tone. “And we have business elsewhere, do you mind?”
“Oh, r-right.” He bowed again and was gone.
Wilma pulled Boone’s hand down, muttering, “I was hoping to get my unmentionables back or at least my rackholders off his fucking rack.”
“You can’t. It’s against tradition.” Boone was giggling over the idea.
“You’re awful,” she retorted.
“You say that now,” he teased. “But the elevator you seemed more shameless than I expected.”
Her face ran hot. “That … was different.”
“Sure.” Boone chuckled.
The buffet was busy and the food smelled wonderful. Wilma’s stomach grumbled. Boone sighed, reaching down to hold her hand. Being so tall, he could see over the lines and crowds of people packing into the place. With a storm howling outside, there wasn’t much else to do but enjoy the savory and sweet assortment she could spy from where they stood. Boone tugged her along suddenly, weaving through the tables, chairs, and their occupants. Rounding a large group, Boone pulled her to stand beside him.
“WILMA!” Mille dropped her spoon into a half eaten bowl of ice cream. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“My phone’s dead?” she offered weakly.
“No shit.” Mille looked at Boone.
Wilma held her breath.
How good is the charm for this ski lodge?
“Why hello Mr. Lumberjack.” Mille arched her brow when her eyes fell to where they held hands.
Wilma squeezed Boone’s hand and he returned the motion.
“Well, look what the bigfoot dragged in.” A familiar snigger of her grandmother brought her eyes to where Granny Anderson pointed a spoon at his shoulder. “Well look there. I didn’t have to give you a hint on how to do that part.”
Wilma’s jaw dropped. She was speechless at Granny Anderson’s claim. Well, that and the huge bowl of ice cream with all its toppings in front of her. At long last she could confront the mountain witch she had no idea she had been related to. The snowstorm, the chaos, the orgy at the cryptid VFW was all the meddling her grandmother had done. She sent her the wrong directions on purpose. Anger swelled, boiling to the surface.
“You can’t possibly eat all that.” Wilma shook her head and sat at the table across from her grandmother and bestie.
“That’s what she said,” Mille muttered with a grin as she went back to eating her own bowl of icy sweets.
Wilma shot a heated glare. “Normally I would say that’s a good one, but I am dealing with a lot right now.” Taking a deep breath and huffing, she turned to her grandmother. “You knew. This whole time?”
Granny Anderson poked at her ice cream with her brow high. “Knew what exactly, my deary?”
“The bond thing. This.” Wilma waved at Boone who placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “You gave me Tenzin’s address and not yours!”
“Look.” Granny Anderson pointed at Wilma with her spoon now with a bite of ice cream riding on it. “You needed to get over fucking Gary and Tenzin needed to get laid.” She ate the ice cream from the spoon before continuing. “I mean, what the hell kind of Ice King picks on a mountain witch over ice cream. Sheesh. He needs to cut loose.” She dug out the next bite. “And because I knew both of you would treat it like a business transaction, I had to use my magic to summon a snowstorm.” Squinting her eyes at Wilma, she shook her head. “But that spell tuckered out days ago.” Another filled spoon pointed to a windowed wall where trees bent under the white of the snow and wind. “That out there. That’s you guys.”
“You know magic, make it stop,” demanded Wilma.
“It won’t until you all cut loose again.” Another demented giggle as she grinned wildly eating more ice cream.
“Oh, we cut loose enough as it is.” Wilma crossed her arms. “And now I’m in some kind of four-person marriage.”
“Wait!” Mille swallowed her bite. “You got married? At the VFW lodge. Is that why you were there?”
Wilma gave a mortified expression. She couldn’t say no, but it became very clear to what the words had been magically skewed. Pinching her nose she tried to pivot.
“Something like that? It’s complicated, but I, er, married three guys at the lodge?” She sounded unsure of her explanation.
“Oh. And here I thought you joined some weird sex cult in the woods and were having a public orgy.” Mille cackled for a moment. “I mean, whatever gets you over fucking Gary. Go girl. Do your thing.”
“Mille, please. I swear I’ll explain this all when I know what it is I’ve done,” pleaded Wilma.
Pointing at Wilma, Mille warned, “You owe me pictures.”
If only she knew she could just watch us on demand, apparently!
“We have guests!” Another voice approached, a woman about the same age as Granny Anderson curtsied before sitting down with a plate of savory foods that made Wilma’s tummy grumble once more. “I’m Tara-Lee, the witch in charge of the charm at the ski lodge. I’m the reason,” she lowered her voice, blocking her mouth from Mille, “humans can’t,” she nodded to Boone, “see him. And I pray tell it’s doing its job with you today, big guy. It’s always a delight to see you folks be yourself in spirit and body.”
“Oh, it’s working just fine, ma’am.” Boone scratched his beard as he looked at Granny Anderson. “But I need to know why I can’t shift back after receiving her mark. We have a few hours to figure it out before this becomes the scandal of the year.”
Wilma paled at his words.
Shit, I did this to him.
“Well, she has two more to mark before the magic settles down.” Granny Anderson shrugged. “Maybe another foursome might help.” The goofy look on her face as she ate another bite of her sugary delight said she was enjoying herself way too much.
“My goodness, to think it would be a heart.” Tara-Lee swooned over the pink glowing tattoo heart on Boone's shoulder. “So cute. I’ve never seen that one before…” She was squinting at the mark as if trying to grasp why it seemed strange.
Pinching her already tender nose, Wilma exasperated, “Can you tell me how I can fix what I did to him or not?”
“Oh, marks are permanent.” Tara-Lee nodded before taking a bite of her food.
“I know that. God, do I know that now.” Wilma pleaded to the ceiling. “They were back to normal after we–well, you know–at the lodge.” Her face grew more red with each word as the pictures flooded her mind and the smell of peaches invaded her senses. “Now we’re back to how this started at the cabin and apparently still snowed in!”
“I’m telling you. You just need to fix it the same way you did the first time.” Granny Anderson giggled, almost satisfied with the answer she provided. “Look, my dear Wilma. This is your destiny and no one can tell you how to run it.”
“It’s running me into ruin, Granny,” she guffawed. “I have lost my car, my income, fuck, my dignity to the cryptid ESPN channel now!”
“Calm down, ladybug.” Boone’s other hand landed on her shoulder. “Tenzin had his reasons.”
“And you supported said decisions that led to it all,” she spat over her shoulder at him.
“Oh, I know who you are now!” interjected Tara-Lee clapping her hands together, looking at Granny Anderson. “This is your granddaughter who is destined to be the Queen of Three.” With a sparkle in her eyes, she turned to Wilma with renewed excitement. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesties! Please, don’t worry about being,” she motioned to Boone’s bigfoot mode, “yourselves completely and wholly. We’ve made arrangements to limit the humans here for the coronation gala tonight.”
Wilma covered her face trying not to let the groan escalate to a screeching of feral frustration.
“LUCAN!” Skye’s voice roared over the buffet with utmost authority. “GET BACK HERE YOU MANGEY MUTT!”
Without warning, a hand gripped her wrist. She was falling. Yoked under the table into a familiar scent of peaches and sandalwood. There she laid across Lucan’s lap under the table next to where her grandmother and friend were. His eyes were glowing, his canines elongated, and the claws told her more than enough.
He’s having a hard time with shifting again too. Shit. Tenzin.
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