Compelled (12 page)

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Authors: Shawntelle Madison

BOOK: Compelled
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“The house has only caught fire two or three times.” Tamara patted the wall. “She’s a pretty tough broad.”

“Tough broads burn just as easily,” I replied.

“Let’s get started. Recite everything you learned yesterday.”

Zoya added eggs to a plate and with a wary eye watched me recite all the words to manipulate water. As I finished blurting everything out, she frowned. “You said you didn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “I learned this yesterday.”

“Some people actually have talent, Zoya,” Tamara said. “Finish cooking breakfast. Just because you couldn’t remember your own name even if it was taped to your forehead doesn’t mean somebody else couldn’t figure it out.”

Zoya’s black eyes seemed to darken. “I can remember just fine.”

She opened her mouth as if she had more to say, but turned away to concentrate on her cooking.

“Just as I thought. Don’t write a check you can’t cash. I have work to do, and I need folks who can keep up.”

“You don’t have to talk to her that way,” I whispered.

“Whose house are you staying in?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Yours, but that doesn’t mean you should belittle her either.”

Tamara walked right up to me until our noses almost touched.

“She’s been trying to learn old magic from me for the past few months, ever since I moved back here. Every day, she recited each spell, but none of them ever stuck. Not every one has the skill.” She tapped her forehead. “Memory is a tricky game, and when it comes to knowing things that can potentially save your life, you either know it or you don’t.”

My mouth formed a straight line and I stared right back at her.

She laughed a bit. “If you feel the need to play Mother Teresa and get her up to speed, that’s up to you.”

“If she wants my help, I’ll offer it,” I said.

Tamara snorted. “Good luck with that. Zoya’s more stubborn than the foxes in the field. Enough discussion. I speak. You repeat.”

She stood over the double sink and began to go over fire spells. The words to manipulate fire were similar to water except the verbs were different. Not hard to figure out. I listened intently, closing my eyes again as if I had an order to fill.

“Got it?” she asked as she soon as she finished.

“Yes.”

“Hop to it, then.”

“Huh?” The last thing I expected her to do was ask me to perform.
 

“I’m not showing you all this for fun. Learning the words is the easy part for you. Executing the spells appears to be your flaw.” She gestured to the sink. “Set that old piece of food on fire.”

My lips went dry. How long had it taken me to master my first spell? I usually could do it when I really needed it. Not when I didn’t want to do it.

I glanced at a piece of crust from toast. How the hell was I supposed to do this? Nick’s words came to me at that moment.
 

“Magic comes from within or another source. If it’s from another source, they must be touched by magic as well—like the transformation magic that shape-shifters have...”

That part I understood, but there was more I wanted to grasp.

“Even if you do have that ability, you must understand that to harness it, you have to put in what you expect to get out of it. An equal exchange...”

How simple it sounded. Take your inner strength and use it for another purpose. Whenever I cast my calm spell, I was in the height of anxiety. There was only one purpose: freedom from the pain, from falling into an abyss from which I couldn’t escape.

“Magic isn’t a simple formula,”
he’d said.
“It isn’t like a chemistry set you can put together and expect results every time you put together the ingredients. It comes from your heart. When you have the right tool, the right words, and you believe without a doubt, magic can happen.”

My hands gripped the counter as my heartbeat escalated. My breath quickened. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Luda watching with curiosity. I was on the spot to perform, the court fool asked to do a song and dance. This was my chance to impress Tamara, and I was falling into a panic attack. It had been weeks since my last bad one. My right hand let go of the wood to reach between my breasts for something. The spot was empty. A seashell necklace had been there a few months ago, a gift from Heidi the mermaid that I’d willingly given back to her. I’d have to do this on my own.

Sweat formed on my brow. The crust stared back at me, mocking me as if to say,
Your sorry ass can’t set me on fire.

Ha, still not burnt.

Closing your eyes isn’t gonna help.

Holding your breath isn’t gonna help either.

A voice entered my din. “Are you all right, Nat?” It was Luda.

“Just a sec.” My voice came out as a wheeze.

Somehow, I had to find that tool Nick spoke of, and I had to believe. Disbelief was my worse enemy. That was the source of the panic attack: fear that everything was out of control and I couldn’t control it. I spoke the calm spell, reaching and straining for a place that would give me peace. Grandma told me I could have it if I really wanted it. Warmth spread over my chest and spread to my head and limbs. In the next breath, I spoke the fire manipulation spell.
 

The crust of bread exploded into soggy pieces and rained down as multiple fiery masses all over the kitchen.

“Holy shit!” Luda grabbed the bowl with pastry dough and flipped out as one gooey mess landed on her shoulder.

Tamara hardly moved, merely blocking an incoming fireball with a flick of her wrist. The hint of amusement on her face made me want to run from the room. Tyler stormed down the steps and rushed in to offer a hand.

With a frown, I used a wet dust rag to pat out the tiny fires.

“I think it’s safe to say you have little control over your abilities,” Tamara said.

I threw a dirty look in her direction.

“I’d check the towel over there.” She pointed to the other side of the room to where Luda tried to clean off the table. She managed to take care of one fire. On the other hand, a quilt on the other side of the table had a nice growing flame. Black smoke filled the room. My victory had turned into a burning mass of madness.

“When does she plan to work on the next element? Can she do wind outside? Away from the house?” Luda laughed and offered me a wink.

I shook my head. Dorothy from the
Wizard of Oz
came to mind. If I blew the house away, could it land on Tamara?

Tyler offered me a hand to stomp out the burning quilt. He tried to help with the other fires while I took care of my mess. When I picked up the poor blanket, I noticed something weird about the wood underneath. Instead of a minor scorch mark, the dark wood had lightened, almost turning into a reddish hue. I stooped down to touch it. When my fingers pressed against the spot, I heard a piercing scream in my ears. But no one else reacted, so only I must have heard it.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

I looked for Tamara to ask what happened, but she was long gone. My gaze flicked to the reddish spot again. Had I imagined what I heard? Why would a house scream out in pain? Something Luda had said during the attack pecked at my memory—something weird about the house—but I couldn’t remember. I reached for it again, but Tyler touched my shoulder.

“You okay, Nat?” he asked.

The need to say something tugged at me, but I kept my questions to myself. I must’ve been standing here for a while. Tyler looked as if he had worked hard to pitch in. His clean shirt was now covered in soot. He even had smudges of black grease on his face.

“I’ve had better days. I’m so sorry about your clothes.”

He shrugged. “I planned to work on the fence today. I’ll get started on that and then shower outside. I don’t want to mess up the bathroom anyway.”

While Tyler headed outside, with Luda not far behind after she finished her cake, I cleaned up the kitchen and tried to forget about the burn mark. I settled into the familiar rhythm of cleaning. Of taking away what was tarnished and making it fresh and new. This was the most relaxing activity to be honest. I didn’t know where everything went. But that didn’t matter. I organized all the cabinets, wiped the sink until it shined and I scrubbed the floor until it was clean enough to eat on—if you were into that kind of thing.

By the time I wanted to go outside for fresh air and to check on Tyler, the day had passed by. After the rough morning, the cleaning had done my soul good. Yeah, only someone like me with OCD would fall into old habits, but doing what I did back home was like therapy. This place was far too new.

The outside had experienced an upgrade, too. The yards of rickety fence along the street in the distance had been replaced. My friend, though, wasn’t still working. But his scent was still here—he’d definitely spent the day working up grime and nastiness. My nose directed me toward the barn. The building didn’t have any animals inside, but their presence lingered here. Cows and horses had lived here once before. The chicken coop next to the barn still had the sounds of clucking and such. That was the source of fresh eggs every morning.

As I rounded one side of the structure, I spotted Luda trying to keep her sister Zoya from leaning around a corner.

“What are you two doing?” I asked.

Zoya shushed me and gestured for me to get back.

“We should go back inside,” Luda said.

Were we under attack again?

I peeked around them and blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Ohhh, my.”

Right there in bright daylight, Tyler’s ass was in full bloom. The tan line from a bikini brief had left part of his buns pasty white, but the view was quite nice by werewolf standards. Water from the outdoors shower dripped down his back. His muscles rippled in his shoulders as he scrubbed his back. I glanced at the twins. The Peeping Tom Twins.

“I’d rub gravy all over that and lick him clean,” Zoya whispered.

Eww.
What a waste of gravy.

“Zoya, you’re so bad,” Luda said. “We should give him privacy.”

“Forget gravy,” Zoya purred. “I’d rub olive oil all over him. Rub him down to get rid of that grime. Get ’em nice and clean.”

Uh, no to that, too.
I opened my mouth. “Tyl—” A hand slapped down over my mouth.

“Don’t you dare ruin the show.” Zoya twisted me in the opposite direction and pushed me toward the house. “Go learn a spell or something. Quit messing with grown folks’ business.”

I contained my laughter and headed back to the house. By the time I rounded the corner and the house came into view, my insides locked. A lone man blocked the path to the red door.

You may not see me, but I’m always around.

Thorn Grantham had found me.

Like he always did.

Chapter 12

Thorn Grantham had the kind of feral beauty most men would envy. When he met others, they came to like and respect him. His facial features, with a strong jawline and piercing hazel eyes, were my favorite.

I still remember the day he walked back into my life half a year ago. It was almost impossible to forget when sunshine cleared out a storm.

But the man who stormed in my direction wasn’t the same though. His stride wasn’t as strong. He took the footsteps of a man with aches and pains in his joints. With each step he took toward me, reality pressed against my heart. Once blond hair now had speckles of white and grey. Crow’s feet touched the edges of his eyes.

That beauty had faded.

He frowned at me. That part of him hadn’t changed a damn bit.

“Look, I can explain,” I began. “I know you’re mad—”

Strong hands grasped my shoulders and pulled me into his arms. He pressed me close, his breath fanning my forehead. “Don’t
ever
leave me like that again.”

My heart tugged painfully. “I have a plan. I really do.”

Thorn merely snorted. “I’ve heard that before.”

A perfect calm spread over me from my head to my feet. How had one man given me the same kind of feeling only a magical spell could do? He had that kind of power over me.

He kissed my forehead first, lingering just long enough to take a deep breath. I did the same. When his lips found mine
 
we settled into a set of motions that never got old. Our heads tilted. His hands found my hips. His heartbeat quickened like mine.

When we finally parted I kinda forgot he tracked me down. For a second there anyway.

“How did you find me?” I asked quietly.

“A little detective work. A visit to see your grandmother. Then a visit to Nick’s place. A talk with a rather nice older gentleman who lived there. I followed your trail to a coffee shop where I smelled a dwarf. Then I took another trip to your dwarf friend’s apartment. Tyler’s landlord told me his tenant would be gone for a few months since he had a photo shoot in
Russia
of all places.”

I rolled my eyes.

“From there, I dialed in a favor to a friend, who got me overseas. From there, I found the Lasovskayas and I visited with a most peculiar succubus in St. Petersburg who directed me north to Vyborg. Your trail was faint, but fresh enough to follow you here.”

Damn he was
good
.

“So what now?” I mumbled.

“Your parents are worried about you.” He tilted my chin up. “They deserve a phone call.”

“You know what they’ll say.”

“That they are disappointed? That you leap without looking?”

“You sure know how to make a gal feel shitty.”

“I’m telling the truth. I know what you’re trying to do, but this isn’t the way to do it.”

I sighed, enjoying the warmth of his arms. “But I have a feeling this is the place. Tamara has to have a reason to solve the problem as much as I do—”

“I don’t like this place. We should leave.” Thorn glanced over my shoulder toward the barn. I turned to see Luda, Zoya, and a now clothed Tyler.

“Is everything all right, Nat?” Tyler asked.

“Yeah.” I pointed to my husband. “Guys, this is Thorn, my mate.”

I introduced Thorn to everyone.

“Nat, you’ve been holding out on us,” Zoya said. “He’s beautiful.”

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