Broken Compass:Supernatural Prison Story 1(23)

Mischa Lebron



The cuts littering my arms and legs were already healing, but the pure anger simmering inside of me was not going anywhere. I had to physically hold on to my wolf's soul. She was trying to force the change on me, but we'd already done that once, and the chains which held me didn't change too. Half my body had been crushed. I couldn't let my wolf free again, even though I'd have loved to escape from my human body for a short time. And claws and razor sharp teeth wouldn't hurt as weapons against the sorcerer standing over me.

Kristoff.

The asshole who had tried to frame and imprison the boys  …  my boys. Had tried to kill my sister in Vanguard. I had never hated anyone with quite the passion I now hated this  …  dick. Yep, I said it. He really deserved to die, and I just hoped I lived long enough to see it happen.

No, scratch that. I was definitely going to live through this. I would do what Jessa asked of me earlier. I would hold on to the hope that I'd either fight my way out of here or one of my pack would find me. Then we could punish him together.

As he took a step away to get more supplies or something, my mind drifted back to the last few hours. My heart clenched at the thought of where Jessa might be right now. I really hoped the boys had made it there before she was taken. I'd thought, in the last moment when Kristoff has stolen me away, that I'd felt Maximus' presence. Probably just wishful thinking.

I breathed deeply, images smashing through my mind. When we'd first been released from the cage back at the supe sale, Jessa and I had stuck to our initial plan. We'd kept our twin bond strong and fought the staff's hold. For a second it had worked, but then we'd been jumped by guards  –  who must have been invisible or something, because they literally appeared out of thin air.

We'd fought as hard as we could, and the staff-wielding douchebag had stood to the side, watching closely, clearly enjoying the show. Unfortunately, we were overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. Plus we were a little hindered by our pregnant bellies.

I had managed to smack one in the balls though, and another in the temple. He'd been knocked unconscious, which was a proud moment for me. Jessa took down about ten. My sister was a fighting machine, even carrying twins.

Once we were subdued again, I'd been first on the chopping block. Kristoff had appeared out of nowhere. I knew by the glassy fear in Jessa's eyes that him being there was a very bad thing for me, but there had been nothing either of us could do. He'd taken me through some sort of black wormhole, apparently the easiest way to get out of the realm, and deposited me in his evil lair.   





 

Then the torture had begun.

We were a few hours into it now and I was starting to wonder how much longer I could hold out.

My head shot up as he crossed the chamber toward me again. I fought against the hold of his magical cuffs, but I was beyond exhausted. I'd been up for God knows how many hours. No food or drink. I was worried about the baby. Kristoff could do anything he wanted to me, but hurting me hurt my child and that was not okay.

"I have to leave you for a short time. I need some more supplies, which I think will work very well in igniting your bond and bringing the Compasses to me. Just in case you manage to finagle your way out of those chains, I'm moving you to the dungeon."

Shit. I had to fight him now. It was my best chance. I wished I had more strength left, but I'd find it somehow. Kristoff reached down and unhooked a set of keys from his belt. There were at least a dozen clinking there, lots of them looking like ancient, ornate pieces. Selecting a small bronze one with a clover style end, he slipped it into the side of my chains and released me from the chair. I still had cuffs on my hands but I was no longer tied down.

I slumped lower, eyelids half closed, as if all energy had deserted me. I was hoping Kristoff would reach for me. As my body slid further down, the sorcerer leaned across me and gathered up the sleeve of my shirt into his closed fist, and as he moved to lift me up I swung my other arm back and slammed the side of my hand into his face. Instead of using my fist, I hit him with the metal of the cuff, a weapon he had unknowingly provided me with.

He let out a shout, and at the same time pain slammed into my own face and I couldn't prevent a small shriek from escaping.

My face throbbed as my body was magically yanked out of the chair. "Stupid shifter," he spat at me, wiping a hand across his face, "your race is all brawn and no brains. Those magical cuffs you wear do more than secure you to the chair. They link your life essence to mine. If I die, you die. If I hurt, you will feel every ounce of it. And lucky for me it only goes one direction, so I can torture you for the rest of my life and never feel a single slice."

With a cackle, he slammed his hand into my temple, and I barely held on to consciousness as he continued floating me out of that room and into another.

By the time the disorientation had cleared, I was in a cell. Story of my life lately. This one was at least twelve feet on either side, had a small bench, and a bucket in the corner. No doubt the delightful amenities. Pregnant shifters had to pee as frequently as pregnant humans, so I quickly made use of that. Once I was finished I sank against the wall, leaning my head back to try and assuage the pounding in my temples.

Kristoff had thought of everything. Clearly he knew the Compasses were going to try and kill him. Maybe he was even hoping they would, and that I would die also.

"Hello."

The soft voice had my eyes slamming open and my body up off the bench. I hadn't even for a second thought I wasn't here alone, but that had definitely been a voice.

I crossed the space to the front of my cage, and gripping onto the bars tried to see in the dimly-lit room. It was cold down here, dark, with only some high-up sconces that held burning flames to cast a little light.

"Hello," the female spoke again, weaker this time, and I could sense that it was taking a lot of effort for her.

"Hello," I replied, feeling like an idiot. "I'm sorry, I can't see you. Are you in a prison cell also?"

There was a brief coughing, and movement like she was shifting around. "Yes, I have been down here for  …  I don't even know how long. The sorcerer purchased me after I was drawn into Little Red Riding Hood's house. Damn Huntsman."

Little Red Riding Hood? Ours had been Hansel and Gretel. My theory that they were using fairytale stories as the draw seemed to be right. Perfect thing to lure in anyone who came across it. Of course we'd be curious. Who wouldn't if they came across a real life fairytale in the forest?

The soft feminine voice continued: "After I followed the axe-carrying hottie, I was stuck in this weird auction house. Kristoff purchased me. Has kept me here ever since. He drains my blood and has these cuffs on my wrists so I can't hurt him."

Despite the touches of humor, there was still so much sadness in her melodic voice. My heart was literally aching as I listened to her stumble and search for words.

"What race are you from?" I asked her. There was a pause, and I wondered whether she was going to answer or if she'd passed out or something.

Her words floated across the basement again. "The human race. Why? What race are you from?"

"You're human?"   





 

There was a groan, and more shifting. I could see some movement in the darkness now. She was across the way from me, toward the far end. I caught only glimpses of golden hair and a slender frame.

"Yep, hundred percent grass-fed human." There was a pause, and I think I was supposed to laugh but my mind was too crazed. "Sorry," she continued. "Vegetarian joke. I've been down here so long I'm starting to think I've lost my ability to socialize. You're the first person I've had a chance to talk with in forever."

She was definitely a human. Supes did not talk the same way as humans, and it was easy to recognize the difference now. But what did Kristoff want with a human? What power did she offer him?

"My name is Mischa," I said, "I'm not a human and neither is Kristoff. He's a sorcerer, magic user, and I'm a wolf shifter."

She already knew he was a sorcerer, she'd said so before, but maybe she didn't quite realize what that meant. There was maybe ten seconds of dead silence before words burst from her. She sounded stronger: "I knew it. I knew he wasn't just a human playing witch. There were too many weird things, but how can all of this be true? You can shift into a wolf? Like a werewolf?"

"Yes, sort of the same thing. In my world there are five supernatural races, and each of them has a different ability or affinity. There are many types of shifters. Wolf, bear, fox, tiger, and so on."

I wasn't supposed to tell humans about our world, but this chick had already been exposed in a huge way. She deserved to know what she was up against.

"I have a pack of very powerful supes. They'll be coming for me." My faith was still strong. "Do whatever you can to hold on, I won't leave you here."

A strangled chuckle escaped her. "Strange that just today I had pretty much given up hope. I have fought and tried to escape, and prayed to no avail. I decided to just give up, let Kristoff finish me off, and finally be at peace. Then you arrived  …  like a beacon of hope."

Emotions started to choke me then and I held tightly to the bars as I fought down the tears. Hope. I had never been hope for anyone.