Compelled

by Shawntelle Madison

Hell, I wanted to live to show those kids who was boss around that town. The trees above me grew dimmer and dimmer as the snow under me grew colder.

  I tucked in as best as I could, leaving my leg stretched out. As I closed my eyes for a brief moment, I imagined Thorn was behind me, his warm lips resting against the nape of my neck, his arms offering comfort.

  “How badly is it broken?” a man’s voice asked within the haze of my sleep.

  My eyelids were heavy. Far heavier than my numb limbs. The goblin blade, which I’d clutched in my right hand, was gone. A warm hand held it instead.

  Someone gently tilted my leg from side to side as if examining it. “Not good, but I can see the healing process at work.” The voice was soft-spoken and feminine.

  “Is it moving, Zoya?” I recognized Tyler’s voice this time.

  I tried to blink and almost succeeded.

  “That fucker is dead,” the woman replied. I caught the sound of a hard kick. Zoya probably stabbed it a few times, too. “I always wondered what they looked like.”

  “Give me a nice, straight stick so I can secure her leg, please. We need to get it wrapped so I can carry her back to the car,” Tyler said.

  Finally, my eyes managed to open. Tyler leaned toward my face with a wide-eyed grin. The first light from the sun peeked from behind him through the pine trees. His blond hair had an ethereal glow to it. “Are there any other darklings around?” I mumbled.

  “Don’t worry,” Luda said.

  “It’s good to see you, Natalya,” he said.

  “You look like shit,” Zoya said, joining him.

  I wanted to flip her off, but imagining myself doing so worked just as well.

  “Good job on the darkling,” she murmured. “Ugh, it stinks!”

  The tugs on my leg grew uncomfortable, renewing the pain I’d been hiding from. Luda shifted me and removed the shirt tied around my thigh. She leaned in closer to the wound. “She smells strange.”

  I did? Was it the same scent Quinton caught?

  “Maybe it’s coming from this.” Zoya pointed to the darkling.

  “No, it's coming from here.” Luda laid her hand on my stomach. Her palm warmed me. I’d briefly forgotten about the old magic spellcasters tucked inside me. “She’s so cold here.”

  Tyler touched me, too. “It’s hard for some reason.” He glanced at Luda. “Is she…?”

  “No, that’s another smell entirely,” she replied.

  “Just get me out of here,” I groaned. “I’ll explain everything in a bit.”

  Tyler lifted me up in his arms and carried me to an SUV right off the road. I welcomed the warm air sputtering out of the vents. The leather seats were worn but toasty warm.

  As everyone else piled inside, he said, “So what the hell happened to you back there?”

  “It’s a long story,” I whispered.

  Luda offered me a piece of fruit. It was the most gorgeous apple I’d seen in a long time. Screw manners or wiping it clean. I bit huge hunks out of it, not caring if I smacked my lips or opened my mouth while I ate.

  While I inhaled the fruit, Tyler told me what happened to the three of them at Tamara’s home. He sat in the front seat with Zoya while Luda tended to me in the back.

  “She woke me up and told me to take the girls away somewhere safe,” Tyler said. “I wanted to go with you and Thorn, but she told me she’d take care of you two.” He sighed. “We left the house through the secret passage and ended up somewhere to the south. We went from town to town at first, catching rides where we could to add some distance.”

  “We had to get as far from the house as possible,” Zoya said bitterly. “The darklings had our scent already, so it was in our best interest to scatter and go to my cousin’s home a couple of hours from here.”

  Luda placed her palm along my cheek to check my temperature. “We were hiding at her home when Tyler told us you finally contacted him. We were so worried about you and Thorn.”

  “What about your grandma?” I asked.

  Luda and Zoya exchanged a look. It was Luda who spoke. “We don’t know what happened to her. We called the house, but the line came up as disconnected. A friend drove past the house and saw nothing but a smoldering ruin.” Her voice drifted off and I sensed her pain.

  “I’m sure she’s still alive somewhere,” I said.

  “We can only hope,” Tyler said. “So what happened to you?”

  Where should I even begin? So much had happened over the past couple of days. Nearly a lifetime’s worth of events. I recounted to them how Thorn and I escaped, how I left him behind with a pack in Finland, met the old magic acolytes and eventually set the old magic spellcasters free—into me—and how I’d run away, only to be cornered by a darkling.

  “Holy fuck,” Zoya blurted.

  “Yep, that sounds about right,” I said.

  “You must be exhausted,” Luda said as she hugged me.

  “So what about the smell?” Zoya twisted in the seat to look at me. “That thing you have inside you. Is that why you smell the way you do?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured. “What do I smell like?” If I really took a whiff, all I caught was dirt, dirt, and maybe something in between like snowy, wet dirt.

  “It’s nothing I’ve ever smelled before,” Luda said, her gaze on the countryside as it zoomed by. “I’m surprised you can’t catch it. It’s almost like a blend of herbs, the smoke from a fire, and a bit of forest after a rainstorm.”

  “How poetic,” Zoya said with a snort.

  “I wonder if that means something. I don’t know exactly what I have inside me—other than the essence of the twelve spellcasters who were trapped by some force centuries ago. I’ve wanted a moment to rest, catch my breath, and have the strength to set them free. I’ve yet to have that golden moment.”

  “You’re going to get that rest whether you want it or not,” Tyler said firmly. He gave me the eye through the driver’s rear mirror. The dwarf’s stern face told me he’d tie me down if necessary.

  Other than the sound of the heater, no one spoke for a while. A question bubbled on my lips. “So where are we going now?”

  “We need to get you patched up back at their cousin Oksana’s farm,” Tyler replied.

  I held back a groan. “Does she live north or south from here?”

  “You need to rest your leg,” Luda chided. “Unless you’d like to hobble where you need to go on a bum leg.”

  “Those wizards have held out for a while now,” Tyler said. “If they are competent spellcasters, they can wait a bit longer while you heal so you can help them.”

  With my luck, they were barely holding out.

  I had no choice but to keep quiet, so I closed my eyes from the sun shining on my face as the old magic spellcasters circled my stomach, waiting impatiently to be set free.

  Chapter 20

  The trip to Oksana’s house took forever. We had to be going north, though, as the sun was on my right.

  Enduring pain for two hours with a bruised shoulder and a leg broken in multiple places made me one grumpy werewolf.

  I closed my eyes most of the trip, but I had trouble finding sleep. After getting attacked so many times, slumber had trouble finding me. As much as I tried to find comfort, unease kept nipping at me.

  Not that I felt alone or anything, Luda was the kindest soul. She checked on me now and then.

  Her sister Zoya was far less concerned, every once in a while gazing at Tyler with admiration. My friend tried to keep his eye on the road, but I caught him looking at her once in a while.

  When we finally reached Oksana’s house, relief filled me when I saw the single story cottage with bright red shutters up ahead. But even the tranquil view of the pond right next to her house didn’t calm my rising nerves. My body tried to heal itself, but there was far too much damage. I’d need time, something I didn’t have much of, if I wanted to help those wizards.

  A tall, blonde woman with glasses strolled to us from the pond near to t
he ivy-covered house. Before she walked up to the car, she shut the door to a nearby greenhouse.

  Tyler carried me out of the SUV into the house. He tried his best to avoid my leg, but it hurt nonetheless.

  “Sorry,” he blurted.

  “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” I had a broken leg. It hurt like nobody’s business.

  The sitting room off the mudroom was a mess and the house felt stuffy, as if someone had tried to keep the warm air trapped inside for too long. I was still grateful for the shelter.

  The blonde woman, who had to be Oksana, followed us into the sitting room. In her hands, she carried a colorful flowerpot with a plant. She placed it on the fireplace mantle. It was rather hard to discern what type of plant, since it was a seedling. The flowerpot was actually one of many. About a hundred potted herbs filled every flat place in the room. From sage to watercress and even pansies.

  This was an herbalist’s home.

  Tyler placed me on the sofa—one of the few free spots. A cloud of dust puffed up from where he placed me.

  “Tyler?” I asked softly.

  “That’s the cleanest spot in the house,” he said. “It really is.”

  “I just cleared off a bed for her,” Oksana sang as she joined us. Her smile was welcoming and wide. As jovial as her bright orange dress that trailed along the floor. And that was when I noticed the hardwood, too. Not a single person had swept it.

  Had Luda and Zoya sat on their butts their entire time at a relative’s house and not bothered to offer a hand to pick up?

  There was no way—without casting more spells to calm myself—that I could rest on a bed that most likely had enough dirt for a garden.

  “I wouldn’t want to put you out,” I began. “Are there any inns nearby?”

  “No, no, no,” Oksana said in her sing-song voice. She leaned toward me, her brown eyes growing big behind her glasses. She was probably as blind as Grandma.

  “I won’t have you doing that,” Oksana added. “The twins are family and anybody who is a friend of theirs is a friend of mine, too.”

  My eyes pleaded with Tyler, but he merely grinned and shrugged. He could’ve warned me.

  Luda joined us. “How is your leg?”

  “What happened to her?” Oksana asked.

  “The monsters that kept attacking our house hurt her,” Luda said.

  “Hurt her?” Zoya laughed. “Not by much. She burned that fucker to a crisp.”

  “I see. I smell blood on her though, among other things.” Oksana peered over Luda’s shoulder while my friend pulled back the shirt she secured over my ripped pants.

  Oksana described what she saw. I didn’t wanna look. “There are so many puncture marks…The bleeding isn’t as bad, but you’ve got extensive bruising and there are a few open wounds. Most likely from fractures. I’ll make a poultice to encourage healing and keep infection away.”

  Now she had my attention. “What about gauze and alcohol? Boiling water?”

  “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve got everything covered.” She looked to Tyler. “Will her leg need to be set?”

  “No,” we both said at the same time. The stick Tyler had used to secure my leg made sure of that.

  Oksana left us to go to her kitchen. The sounds of bottles jostling about reached my ears. As I lay there, the scents from what she prepared floated around the house: sharp apple cider vinegar, aromatic buds of Gilead, even black snakeroot. Her bubbling pot of ingredients made the place stink to high heaven. I ignored the pain and raised my head. I spotted her working in the kitchen while she steeped the ingredients like she was making tea. After some time, she used a pair of wooden tongs to place a white cloth into the brew. What she pulled out was the color of sour piss. Ugh. Not exactly something I wanted on my leg.

  Oksana sang, “Not only will this heal your wounds, but it will cleanse your blood.” She marched right up to me and, using Luda’s assistance, applied the cloth over my wound. It took everything I had to look away and keep my mouth shut. I was in no position to refuse what was offered if I wanted to get out of here on two feet.

  Oksana promptly returned to the kitchen and put the brackish fluid into a large mason jar. “This will be some good stuff,” she declared. “We’ll keep this to use on you later.”

  I wanted to ask her if she had a bottle of aspirin, but I wasn’t in that much pain yet.

  “So where did you learn all this?” I asked her to keep my mind off what was on my leg, what was flowing into my leg. Any distractions would work at this point.

  “Old country healing from my dam and my sire. They took in any werewolf who needed help along the countryside. During that time, our packs used herbs after the hunt for fertility.” Oksana giggled.

  “We’ve heard tales for days about the olden ways,” Zoya said dryly.

  “It’s rather fascinating,” I had to admit.

  Her enthusiasm was rather overpowering, so I tried to smile. I’d frowned enough for a while now.

  “Oh, while I’m at the stove, I might as well cook that chicken for our guests. Zoya, how about you offer a hand instead of Luda for once.”

  Zoya rolled her eyes and joined her cousin.

  The sounds of cooking kept coming from the kitchen while I rested.

  An hour or so later, they checked on me again to replace the bloody gauze.

  “How’s the healing coming?” Oksana asked after she exposed my wounds. Luda acted as her assistant again.

  It was weird sitting on the couch while they checked over me. I felt the strong urge to blink every time Oksana did. It was rather hard not to mimic her actions with the way her glasses magnified her eyes.

  “There’s something else,” Oksana leaned in to sniff me.

  “Oh, I bet she can smell them,” Tyler said.

  “The werewolf spellcasters?” Luda asked.

  Luda explained what I told them in the car. That I’d taken a group of old magic spellcasters into my body and that I wanted to take them to Stolobny Island to help the wizards. She added I wanted them out as soon as I got some rest.

  Oksana’s mouth formed an “o” as Luda finished explaining.

  “However did you do that?” the herbalist asked.

  “Old magic,” I said.

  “That’s very powerful magic, indeed. But that doesn’t explain why you smell like clover, cinnamon, and bay leaves.”

  Interesting. “So that’s what I smell like?”

  “Your stomach does.” She took my hand and smelled it up to my fingertips. “There’s something else, too. It’s everywhere though and it’s sweet. It’s an herbal scent I can’t place since it’s so faint.”

  “A necromancer said to me not too long ago that he smelled the same thing,” I admitted. “Could it be a curse?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. What plants have you come into contact with as of late? Are you carrying any herbs?”

  That was an open question. “Since when?” I squeaked.

  “Hmm, how about the past few months?”

  Wow. It could be anything.

  “My aunt Olga has an aloe vera plant.” I shrugged. “There’s a dead set of orchids at my mom’s house she has yet to throw away. My husband Thorn wanted to buy me daisies but they were so expensive and out of season—”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t help,” Oksana interjected.

  She smelled my wrist. “So peculiar. But you’re not dead or anything, so whatever it is, it isn’t hurting you.”

  With that, she left me speechless.

  A bit later, Zoya finished cooking dinner and brought me a plate. She had prepared crunchy chicken and hard peas, and I ate every bite of it to regain my strength.

  Tyler ate at the dinner table with the twins. He shoveled in Zoya’s food with gusto. He didn’t say anything or look at her, but he appeared pleased with the hot food, scraping his plate to get every morsel into his mouth. “Is there any left?” he asked.

  “Let me get you some more,” Zoya said s
weetly.

  Nobody else asked for seconds.

  Something had to be developing between those two.

  While the others helped with the dishes, I checked the messages on my phone. I had a few from my relatives, most of them checking on me and berating me for not contacting them.

  A message from Grandma touched my heart: I’m so worried about you. Please come home.

  There were a few from Dad, Alex and even Mom. I replied to all of them and let them know that I was alive in Russia with Tyler, and that Thorn was in Finland.

  Speaking of Thorn, I didn’t have a single message from him. That pained me the most. I tried to call his cellphone, but the line quickly went to voicemail. I tried to think positive. Maybe in a village like Nuijamaa there wasn’t a way for him to charge his phone?

  I called again and left a message this time.

  “Thorn, it’s me, Nat. I’m so worried about you. Can you call me please? If I don’t pick up, just leave me a text message.” I sighed and tried to keep my voice steady. He had to be fine. “You’re gonna piss me off if you don’t send me something so I know you’re okay. I don’t care if it’s by Pony Express, smoke signals, or anything.” As much as I tried to sound stern, my voice began to break and my insides tightened. “You’ve always told me that you’re always close by. Well, I know you can’t manage too much in that department, but at least you can find the pack alpha and send me a message.”

  I sensed eyes on me, but I ignored them. I couldn’t avoid them hearing me in this private moment.

  “I need to hear you, okay—”

  The phone beeped. I had used up my allotted time. I frowned, thinking that the last thing I said was “okay,” instead of something beautiful like “I’m thinking of you” or “You’re my everything.” “Okay” was so simple and didn’t express the depths of my longing for him.

  Later Tyler offered to carry me to the bed, but I ended up sleeping on the couch. It was impossible to get comfortable though. As the night bled away, I noticed my stomach had hardened further. I couldn’t even turn over to sleep on it. It was next to impossible with this full feeling that never went away.