Compelled by Shawntelle Madison

But there were so many differences compared to back home. The pine trees along the roads felt like home, but everything else was so different. All stone, gray buildings were everywhere. A touch of the old world. The cars and the architecture made the place completely new and different.
    “Are you coming with us to eat?” Dmitri called out.
    “Of course.” Tyler followed Dmitri into the stone building with double doors while I tried to wear a brave face. My past history with unknown restaurants had never been a good one. America was a totally different place in terms of rules of cleanliness and serving. Not that I was saying my Russian kin would serve me food in a slovenly place with dirt lining the seats, but what I considered clean was at a different level compared to everyone else. And damn it all to hell. I’d made a conscious decision to leave my baby wipes at home.
    The minute I walked through the doors, wonderful smells hit me. Fresh baked bread and grilled meat. I could practically predict the menu before it was even placed in front of us. Chicken tabaka , seasoned to perfection. Home cooked Russian dishes for a hungry appetite. A nearby customer, a werewolf, had fresh cabbage stuffed with ground beef. Tasty golubtzy . Matter of fact, there were a lot of us in here, which was probably why the band chose this place.
    A hostess sat all of us at a few tables shoved together. The boisterous group filled the entire dining room. What few customers they had greeted us with smiles and inquiries about where the band would be playing tonight.
    Glancing at Yuri, I had no idea my cousin had such potential.
    The food was divine. Tyler practically wiped his plate clean with his bread as I ate my fill. All the while, my friend joked with the one man who knew enough English to carry on a conversation, Old Papa.
    “How will you two reach your destination?” Old Papa asked him.
    “We’ll find someone to give us a ride,” he replied. “Who knows? In a town like this, maybe there are some workers or truckers who can offer a hand.”
    Old Papa nodded. “You should be careful, though. I noticed someone was following you.”
    Tyler froze in the middle of wiping his mouth. “Following us, what do you mean?”
    “We’ve made two stops on the way here. Both times, I caught a strange scent. It was something I’d never encountered before. But I did smell it again when we stopped for gas. It was strange.”
    “Like what?” I leaned forward, my heartbeat up a bit. Had I been found?
    “Could it be Raj?” Tyler asked me.
    “Why would he follow us? Didn’t he have to return home?” I said.
    “Pretty much.” He turned to Old Papa. “Do you think it was a werewolf?”
    “No. I’m not that old, boy. I can sniff out my own kind easy enough. Whatever this was, it was something even I haven’t smelled before.”
    I shrugged. “Maybe one of the other band members has a fan or something.”
    The old man shrugged. “I doubt it.”
    I stole a glance at Tyler. My first thought had been werewolf, too. Maybe Thorn or one of my relatives. But a nonwerewolf led me to believe otherwise. Something was going down and I couldn’t run away from it.

Chapter 9

    We managed to get a ride with a farmer who had hauled his goods to Vyborg and was now returning home. He had a cheerful demeanor, albeit a stuttering potty mouth was included.
    “T-that damn son of mine better have done his chores,” he grumbled. His remarks about his offspring continued for most of the trip. I managed to learn the boy wanted to be a good-for-nothing pop singer and he couldn’t hold a tune even if he played a mime, a rather bitter insult.  
    Tyler covered his ears the entire way. We rode in the back of the man’s truck, huddling close to avoid the chilly breeze from the bay as we rode up A124 road. Soon enough, the forest blocked most of the wind, but not enough for us to feel the frosty sensation deep in our bones.
    Tyler turned to me. “What will you say to