Compelled

by Shawntelle Madison

  “You haven’t heard about it, have you?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “There’s a war going on between the warlocks and the wizards, a pretty big one from what I’ve heard through dwarf circles.”

  “A shape-shifter said something about a war, but he didn’t go into details. This had to explain why Dr. Frank is gone, and I’ve barely seen any spellcasters at The Bends.”

  “Folks are hunkering down for the fighting. I’ve heard they mask the fighting, but there’s no telling what races will get pulled into this, including the dwarves.”

  “You might have to fight?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. The wizards will expect us to choose a side sooner or later. Either way, I’m prepared to die as a free dwarf and not one of their damn minions.”

  Someone passed our table and gave Tyler a weird look. That “I’m prepared to die as a free dwarf” line was a little too Lord of the Rings.

  I chewed on my thoughts before I spoke. “I need to go to Russia.”

  His eyebrow rose. “I know this website where you can get great deals—”

  “That’s not what I mean.” I dished on what my grandma told me about Tamara and the wizards. About how they were looking for a way to remove death curses from objects. “As much as I’d like to sit around and wait for help to come to me, I can’t. My husband’s life depends on this.”

  He chuckled. “I know that from experience.”

  “I’m prepared to go alone if I must. I need answers.” As my voice rose, the urge to bite my tongue hit. I’d let my eagerness get the best of me. “I can’t stand waiting on the sidelines anymore to have what I fought so hard for taken away. I’m not exactly the richest person, so I thought maybe Nick or Dr. Frank could help me figure out the jump points spellcasters use so I could get to Russia somehow.”

  “Nat…I don’t know if doing this is a good idea. Do you even know where you’re going or what you’ll do when you get there?”

  He had a point. Still, I didn’t care.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve had plenty of time—a bit too much—to think about what to do. Through some digging, I’ve found where Tamara lives outside of St. Petersburg.” I’d checked my parents’ caller ID and found Tamara’s phone number. I had enough amateur detective skills to help me track down her address.

  “Did your grandma tell you to go?”

  I gave him a death-glare.

  “She wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” he whispered.

  “I’ve had my leg broken with a crowbar, my forehead smashed into a dashboard, and I’ve had the shit beaten out of me. Being afraid is kinda out the door right about now.”

  Alpha female for the win.

  Tyler sighed. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can help you in a few days. Raj once got me to a photo shoot in Thailand. He didn’t use a wizard jump point but something similar.”

  “Thank you.” I couldn’t resist grinning like a fool.

  “I’ll need a favor in return,” he quickly added.

  “Anything—well almost.” I did have personal limits.

  He paused for a moment and played with his coffee cup. What the heck did he need from me? It wasn’t like I could hook him up with one of my cousins. He wasn’t into werewolves.

  “I need you to go to a dwarf matchmaking dinner with me.”

  Chapter 4

  “So you’re saying you want to take another woman to this matchmaking dinner?” I asked Tyler again a few days later. “A dinner where you’re supposed to hook up with someone?”

  Maybe I’d heard him wrong or something.

  “Yes.” Tyler didn’t look me in the eyes. He simply kept walking down the quiet East Village street. Evenings in NYC should always be pleasant like this. “Look, Nat, I wouldn’t be too worried about it. Not to hurt your feelings, but you’re not that pretty compared to dwarf girls and you’re going to stand out.”

  Oh, yeah. No shit. “So I’m ugly, huh?” I tried to sound hurt but failed. Was I a bad girl for giving him a hard time?

  “No, you’re not that…unattractive. You’re just too tall. And you need more…curves.”

  He glanced at my chest. I’d yet to hear any complaints from Thorn, so I just chuckled. To each his own.

  I adjusted the gifts I carried. Even if I didn’t think this was the smartest idea Tyler came up with, I decided to go and be at my best. I’d had enough home training from a sharp Russian mother to know I should wear a nice dress to a dinner and bring a gift of some kind.

  The fairy at the bakery in South Toms River suggested thick loaves of bread and wine, so I bought a couple loaves from her and a cheap bottle of wine at the local convenience store. It didn’t seem like the smartest move, especially with Tyler’s harebrained idea of bringing me to his date.

  “I’m so nervous,” he whispered as we walked up to a brick apartment building.

  “So this is where her family lives?” I asked.

  “Only dwarves live here.” He hesitated at the entrance.

  I nodded and patted his shoulder. “C’mon. Where’s the guy I remembered who battled werewolves like nobody’s business?” Tyler, along with the rest of my therapy group, had come to the South Toms River Pack’s rescue when an invading pack tried to take over. I’d always be grateful for his bravery.

  “That was different. I wasn’t trying to get married. I feel different on the battlefield.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Once inside, I expected us to climb the stairs to one of the top floors, but instead, we went down two levels. The stairwell was well lit, with sconces illuminating the whitewashed walls. My nose told me someone had diligently scrubbed these hallways with cleaning products. Tyler led the way to a door at the end of the hall. His fine leather shoes scuffed against the wooden floor.

  Once we reached our destination, he froze.

  “Do you want me to knock?” I asked.

  He wiped a line of sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. His scent, heavy with agitation, filled my nose. “No need. Just give me a sec.”

  I hid my smile and tried to stifle the swell of nervous flutters in my stomach. Here was a man who’d make women tremble with his grin, and yet his nervousness seeped into me. His hand rose, then dropped again. By the third time, after a deep breath and wiping off his brow again, Tyler knocked on the door hard.

  Poor guy.

  “You got this,” I whispered to his back.

  His nod was barely perceptible as the door opened wide. Tyler blocked the doorway so I took a peek around him. From what little I could see, I spotted an older woman at waist-height.

  “Right on time, Tyler son of Wendt,” she said stiffly.

  A sweet scent hit my nose and the wolf within me melted. Ham, baked with brown sugar and poked with lots of cloves. Just my kinda place.

  “Greetings to Eosa, daughter of Kagte.” He bowed at the waist then stepped inside.

  This was my first visit to a dwarf home, so I followed Tyler inside and kept quiet.

  The older woman didn’t glance at me, only offering a disapproving glare in Tyler’s direction. “Please understand the only reason we’re granting this dinner is due to your esteemed lineage.”

  Tyler quaked at my side. The need to offer him a reassuring touch tugged at me, but I didn’t budge.

  “I’m honored you would invite me into your home.” His heartbeat sped up, thundering in my ears like a trapped squirrel.

  The older woman stared him down, crossing her arms while the sounds of a TV in the other room blared. Someone was watching a western. Just hearing the horses and gunshots brought back memories from another man who glared at me with discriminate thoughts. But that man wasn’t the South Toms River Pack leader anymore, and just like him, the woman in front of me was probably more bark and less bite.

  An instinct to save my friend from the awkward silence jumped in and I extended my hands with the bag of bread and wine toward Eosa. “Please accept my gift—”
/>   Tyler’s hand snaked out to snatch my wrist. “Don’t speak yet. I must introduce you.”

  My mouth snapped shut.

  “I’ve yet to have a wolf in my home; who is your guest?” Eosa asked.

  He gestured to me. “This is Natalya, daughter of Fyodor.”

  At the sound of my name, I did a quick curtsy. As an alpha female werewolf, bowing my head to her would be a no-no.

  Her eyebrow rose in amusement. “Greetings, Natalya, daughter of Fyodor.”

  “Greetings, Eosa, daughter of Kagte. Your home is beautiful—”

  At that, Eosa nodded. “She has manners. That is good.”

  “Are you hungry?” she added.

  “Yes, we’re quite hungry,” he replied.

  My stomach growled at her words. I was quite hungry, but I didn’t voice my thoughts, and I let him take the lead.

  “Come to the dining room then.” She strolled through her living room into an adjoining dining room. Since the apartment was underground, the windows were only for show, simply draped frames that probably went nowhere. The decorations were still nice, though, and the knickknacks here and there created a welcoming environment that made me feel right at home.

  The dining room was larger than I’d expected for a New York apartment. It was a beautiful space with a long rectangular table and ornate china hutches on each end. Dwarf homes had a different setup though. Everything was lower than expected by at least three to four inches.

  We were the last ones to the table. Six other dwarves waited for us.

  “I can’t wait to meet Giana,” Tyler said with a shy smile.

  “She’s getting ready and will be down when I announce her,” Eosa said.

  “That sounds wonderful.” He didn’t hide his exuberance. “A proper introduction.”

  “Take your seats at the end.” Eosa gestured to two empty place settings. As we sat, she continued to speak. “Let me introduce you to my family, who are here from overseas to assess her potential husbands. The woman on the end is Giana’s aunt Hoyit. Next to her is Ntah, her husband. Then there are Rinrer, Kubde, and Berroh.”

  She pointed at the far end. “The handsome, virile man at the head of the table is my husband, Burt.”

  Burt? After all those exotic names, meeting a Burt was rather unexpected.

  Tyler listened intently as if a quiz would be given at the end of the meal.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered.

  “In dwarf tradition, during a match-making dinner—”

  Eosa cut in, “The dwarf man may not look at his intended until after he is served his meal. After the first bite, he may look at her.” Eosa smiled brightly now, revealing a shiny gold tooth. “That way, the suitor may find his intended as pleasing as the food.”

  I nodded as if that were a good thing. A man should appreciate a woman for who she was, but this wasn’t my house or culture.

  “Giana spent the whole day preparing the pig for tonight’s dinner,” her aunt Hoyit said with a bitter expression that darkened her small gray eyes. “We hope you enjoy it.”

  “I-I am grateful.” Tyler stuttered a bit, but he tried to smile and offer a small bow. Like he always did, he crouched in the seat and kept his head low.

  My stomach growled again. To keep myself occupied, I took my napkin and placed it in my lap. I glanced at his plate and he flashed me the “just wait a sec” look.

  Soon enough I’d understand.

  A question came from the other end of the table.

  “How far back can you trace your lineage?” one dwarf man asked Tyler as one of his bushy eyebrows rose. If my memory served me right, he was either Rinrer or Ntah.

  “Fourteen generations recorded, Ntah,” Tyler replied, looking the man in the eye.

  “I expect to hear you sing of them—” Ntah proposed.

  “I don’t wanna hear him sing!” Hoyit snapped. The next question came just as fast from Hoyit. “Do you have a proper underground dwelling for your new bride?”

  “I’ve had trouble finding a place with all the requirements, but it’s suitable,” Tyler said.

  “Suitable? A cave is suitable for a bear, but not a new bride from a respectable lineage.” Hoyit frowned to Eosa, and she made the same expression.

  “You’re far too tall for a dwarf,” Burt said, stroking his wispy blond beard.

  Tyler crouched lower, and I almost bit the inside of my mouth to keep my tongue in check. He took everything without fighting back.

  Burt wasn’t done yet. “Why should I let my beautiful daughter marry you when your children might be deformed?”

  My hands clenched my napkin until they went numb. What the hell was up with the freaking Spanish Inquisition?

  The words, ‘Who do you think you are?’ began to form on my trembling lips when an older round woman appeared with many metal cups on a serving tray. A silence descended on the table.

  The silence continued as the older woman, who appeared to be about as old as Grandma Lasovskaya, served us each a drink. Her scent blended with the household. She had to be another relative. In my family, elders didn’t serve. We served them. She moved so slowly with effort, her wrinkled hands unsteady as she placed each cup. Seeing the old woman, whom I would’ve taken care of, taking care of me bothered me to no end.

  Eosa’s family kept their eyes on Tyler as the older woman finished her task and hobbled into the kitchen. I tilted forward a bit to see a pale yellow fluid in the cup. Some kind of fermented drink, my nose whispered to me. The dwarves took a sip from their drinks, but Tyler didn’t move, so I followed suit—until he nudged me with his foot. He jerked his head toward the beverage, miming with two hands as to how I should drink.

  Here we go. The metal cup was cold against my palms. A bit damp with condensation. Like any curious wolf, I smelled it first, a brief sniff, then I took a small sip.

  Ugh.

  Good Lord, it was some awful stuff. About as satisfying as drinking week-old beer left outside in a filthy wooden bucket. I still took another gulp and nodded with a weak smile. A foul-tasting beverage wouldn’t diminish the Stravinsky honor.

  Tyler downed his without taking a breath. He didn’t wipe his mouth off either, letting it drip down his chin. “Good stuff.”

  Eosa nodded, at least she approved of that.

  “So what is this?” I asked Tyler.

  “It’s fermented fairy sweat, mixed with lemons, buckwheat, and aged ale from the bottom of a barrel,” Tyler said with pride. “The older the barrel the better.”

  So that was where that horrific wooden aftertaste came from.

  A young woman stood in the open doorway to the kitchen holding a huge pot. Tyler’s eyes brightened, but he kept his eyes on his plate. She walked in, standing at a height no taller than my waist, and managed to place the dish in front of Tyler. It was rather hard to see her at first, but by the time she backed away, I noticed she didn’t look half bad. She blinked shyly his way with soft brown eyes. Her hair had been fashioned on top of her head in a fetching manner.

  “Please enjoy,” Giana declared.

  I caught a whiff of roasted pig under the lid and fought off a wave of hunger. If it looked as good as it smelled…

  It didn’t.

  Tyler lifted the lid with relish and placed it in Giana’s small hands. With horror, I gazed, or, I should say, the pig’s head gazed at us. The pig’s mouth had been stretched open to fit the roasted rear end of a large chicken. Almost as if the pig had died while consuming its last meal. When I peered closer, I noticed the chicken’s head poked out of the side of the pig’s mouth.

  The head was still attached.

  Roasted, empty chicken eyes stared at us.

  The words, ‘Why did she?’ came to mind, but, again, I kept my damn mouth shut.

  Tyler nodded with approval, grabbed his knife, and then ate like he wasn’t wearing nice clothes. He tore into the pig’s head, flinging food about with gusto.

  All the while, the older woman came out of
the kitchen again to bring everyone else some food. She hobbled again, resting and grimacing as she worked. When she came to my side of the table to serve, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and tried to take the plate from her.

  For an elderly dwarf, she had the grip of a Greek Titan.

  “I just want to help,” I whispered.

  “What are you doing?” The old woman looked horrified.

  “Grandmama, what is she doing?” Giana sputtered.

  Everyone at the table stared me down as if I’d shifted into a werewolf and had taken Grandmama down like the big bad wolf in Red Riding Hood. Even Tyler stopped eating.

  “Natalya, daughter of Fyodor,” Eosa said crisply, “the family matriarch always serves at each matchmaking event.”

  Slowly, I backed to my seat under her scalding glare. “She looked like she was in pain—”

  “Are you mocking my heritage?” Eosa sneered at me, and it reminded me of others looking at me that way in the past, relatives who enjoyed seeing me shamed this way. “You don’t see me marching up to your weddings and spitting in the food, do you?”

  Wow, what a bitch.

  “Don’t talk to my friend that way.” Tyler’s words were a low whisper only I could hear, even with his mouth full of pork.

  I took my seat, head hung low.

  Giana’s grandmother continued to serve. When she reached me, she tossed the plate on the table. The pig’s leg, still with the hoof attached, rolled off the plate and fell into my lap. The dark gravy stained my skirt before it finished falling with a wet plop on the hardwood floor.

  “You should be mindful of the company you keep, Tyler, son of Wendt,” Burt said with a growl.

  At my side, Tyler’s jaw tightened. Anger rose from him in waves. “The company I keep suits me just fine.” He turned to me, his blue eyes darkening. “It’s time to go, Nat.”

  He slammed his fork down, so I reached for his hand to calm him. He wrenched his hand free and then wiped his mouth off on the napkin.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said to him. “I made a mistake, okay.”

  I tried to switch gears, searching the faces of Giana’s family around the table to look for a friendly face. “Tyler’s a great dwarf. He’s kind and thoughtful.” I glanced at Giana, who looked away with disappointment. “He’s gone out of his way to help my pack. He’s a brave fighter, too.”