Dragon Mystics: Supernatural Prison #2

by Jaymin Eve

  Louis said I would find information I needed here. Did he really think we should be in a place clearly designed to support the rise of the king? I didn’t want that effing tyrant to rise, even if I did wear his mark.

  I was struck by a sudden notion. I rose to my feet. “Gerard said we weren’t near Krakov, but … are we actually in Mount Drago?” My eyes locked in on Quale as my wolf’s shackles rose. Rumbles shook my chest.

  Quale fidgeted under my stare. “No, but Drago is close by. Louis sent you here to protect you. Legend says that if the king rises all marked who are not in this sanctuary or Mount Drago will die.”

  I recalled the legend, but still wasn’t sure I believed it. Either way it gave me bad juju to know that the king’s body was nearby. Even if he was currently missing his head.

  Grace let out a gurgling cry. “If the king rises, he will destroy the supernaturals. He almost succeeded a thousand years ago, and now, well, this sanctuary suggests that this time he’ll have an army of marked at his disposal.”

  Quale pulled himself to his feet. “I was born into my role. I have never met the king nor worked for him. I don’t know if I agree with him rising. For now there is no chance it will happen. So let’s not worry ourselves.”

  “Did Louis clue you in on how long we’re supposed to stay here?” Jacob asked. “We have responsibilities, we are to be the next council leaders. We cannot disappear indefinitely. What’s the long term plan?”

  He was right, they were giving up an awful lot for me and I should encourage them to go home. My mouth opened but I couldn’t make the words exit.

  Quale waved toward the door. “You are more than welcome to leave. None of you are in danger except for the twins. They need to stay for the next month, in case the king rises. I’m sure none of you want to see them self-destruct.”

  Well, didn’t that just sound like an assface way to die.

  Braxton joined in now. He’d been quietly observing until this point. “Jessa and Mischa go where we go, and right now our duties in Stratford don’t mean shit.” He leveled a glare at his fey brother. “Our focus is here.”

  Jacob brushed Braxton’s glare aside. “You know I never meant we would leave without the girls. No responsibility trumps Jessa. But we still need to know the short to long term plan.”

  “I admire and respect your loyalty,” Quale said as he started to move toward the doorway again. “It won’t be all bad here. You will learn about the marked and the abilities that your females will develop.” He gestured for us to proceed before him along the hall. “And you will all be safe. In here, you will only find others who have searched for security.”

  Judging by the dirty looks we received as we entered, that wasn’t completely true. There were definitely some here who’d do anything to keep their sanctuary untainted by strangers.

  The trip down in the elevator was as shittastic as going up. Two mystics were waiting for us outside, neither of them Gerard.

  “How many of you are there?” I asked Quale.

  He noticed the way I was eying the grays through the front glass. “There are twelve mystics. We spend our time in the different zones. There are about two thousand supernaturals in here.”

  Wow, that was a lot, especially if most of them were dragon marked.

  “We’ve recently added quite a few hundred to our ranks.”

  My brain clicked on about the same time that Braxton spoke. “You mean those who were freed from the various prisons?”

  The dragon shifter never missed a beat.

  Quale leveled his stare on the black haired quad. While he didn’t look surprised, something told me he had not expected us to know of this. “Yes, the twins free them and then send them back here to us.”

  Out the doors now, the two cloaks joined with Quale to lead us back through the town. At the mention of twins I ground to a halt.

  My eyes narrowed on the three mystics. “The two women who have been breaking into the supernatural prisons and freeing the marked are twins?”

  My voice might have risen a little louder than I’d intended.

  Quale nodded. “Yes, we have quite a few twins here, but they are the oldest I know of.” He paused for a breath. “And you two are the youngest.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. Anything that paralleled in life … well, there was always a reason. And that reason had better not be that the two oldest and two youngest dragon marked twins were the four needed to open the tomb of the king. If that was the case, they were going to be shit out of luck. I wasn’t freeing that crazy bastard … not in this lifetime.

  The quads exchanged glances, doing that thing where I knew they were reading each other’s thoughts. I wondered if they were having the same panicked heart palpitations I was. Tyson reached out his long arm and snagged it around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. As the familiar wizard energy surrounded me, I calmed.

  “Don’t stress that pretty face, you’ll get wrinkles,” Tyson jibed at me, his tone light.

  I managed to free an arm and flip him off.

  Maximus grinned. “He’s right, no need to stress. We’ll stop you and Misch from sticking your fingers where they don’t belong.”

  I was too far away to retaliate, but thankfully Mischa got in a decent whack on his arm. Sure it was a girly, open palm slap, but still it was good to see some violence in her soul. Character building.

  I wondered what was happening between Mischa and Maximus. Having spent most of my life with guys, I wasn’t one for girl gossip. I just accepted that supes had their own business and mostly I cared very little what it was. But my twin and the vamp had been all touchy, hot and heavy – well PG hot anyway – and now they seemed to be a little distanced again.

  I reminded myself to ask Mischa tonight when we were back in our rooms.

  There were less of the hardened supernaturals in the street now. Since food was a pretty huge part of our culture, most of them would be at lunch. We crossed through a paved section that had lots of diminutive stalls, like an open air farmers market. Scents were emerging, foods of many different flavors tantalizing my senses, and then as we left the market I almost squealed as I saw the next street.

  Jacob leaned in close to where I was still under Tyson’s arm. “You’re drooling.”

  I didn’t blink or remove my eyes from the scene in front of us, but I did lift my hand and wipe at my chin. Jacob was right, there had been a little drool.

  But for reals … it was a street of food.

  I mean the entire length, which was probably about a mile, was filled, both sides, with eateries. Each one seemed to represent different international foods. From my position I could see Chinese, Thai, Indian, and Turkish, and I was sure many more cultures filled the shop fronts.

  We started to move again, and if it wasn’t for Tyson’s arm I’d probably have been running. Scents were hitting me hard from all directions, and actually … not all of them were pleasant. As we moved further through I understood the stench. Scattered amid the regular eateries were quite a few specialty cafes. The first I saw was a raw seafood center filled with the water loving demi-fey. Down the alley, beside the café, was a stream occupied by chattering mer-supes.

  Nearby, another eatery advertised – in big letters and with disgusting graphics – that they catered to carnivores of the raw meat variety. Ogres, gargoyles and trolls looked to be the large – and I do mean large – majority of their clientele.

  The grays halted just past the meatery. The taller of the two said, “You’ll need no money here. Simply choose your taste for each meal and order. In return we expect you to help. There is a roster rotation and you will be advised of your shifts.”

  We nodded and they left us there. Quale stayed with us.

  This was different than the way Stratford worked. Sure, everyone pitched in to run our town, but we also had jobs that we applied for after school. Some of them were limited, and you might miss out, but mostly we chose the career we were to have.

 
; I hadn’t had to work yet because I was still in college. And the quads, well, they didn’t have to worry for a long time about menial labor, since they were to be the next leaders.

  The boys took the news of their impending dish-pig duties like real men, not a single whine, moan, or bitch to be heard.

  Quale patted Jacob on the arm, before snatching his hand back at the look on the fey’s face.

  “Don’t worry on it too much,” he said, covering his nerves with words. “I will make sure you don’t receive any of the particularly distasteful tasks. With so many supernaturals here, it takes quite a while to rotate around duties.”

  Great. Awesome. All fantastic news.

  But let’s bring the focus back, Mr. Gray Fey – food me now.

  “Guys, Jessa has the look again.” Tyson pretended to struggle and hold me back. At least I think he was pretending, since my feet had started to move on their own.

  Braxton laughed. “Time to feed our girl.”

  Quale was more talkative now, giving us the reviews on each place we passed by. There was something from every culture and country … but my heart was set on Italian. It was one of my favorites and it felt like years since I’d seen pizza and pasta. I didn’t even need a guide; the scent of garlic and oregano led the way. I could have found the sidewalk eatery with my eyes closed.

  I barely took the time to notice the red awnings and jumble of white-clothed tables in and outside the roomy space. I escaped Tyson’s clutches to run inside, ignoring the glances from the dozen or so supernaturals who were already eating – lucky bastards.

  A shifter was behind the counter. I didn’t have time to scent his animal, I was too busy starving to death.

  My words came out in a rush. “I’m going to need one of everything.” There was probably a menu somewhere, but who the hell had time for things like that.

  The male grinned, and I was distracted for a split second. He was cute, but way too soft for my taste. I liked my men large and hard. This shifter screamed gentle. He was probably a rabbit or something prey-like.

  “Well, yes, ma’am, I’m more than happy to oblige your request.” Flirting, and a southern accent … interesting that the first supernatural I talked to here was American.

  A shadow fell over us. “If another ma’am comes out of your mouth, you’re going to be bouncing on one leg, rabbit.” Braxton looked unamused. And I’d totally guessed the animal correctly. “We’re going to need enough food for eight hungry supes.”

  The lanky rabbit, with his caramel skin and black hair, seemed to actually pale under the stare of the dragon. Braxton had that effect on most males.

  The server scurried off to pass the order on to those out the back. Braxton laced his fingers through mine, and without actually dragging me, made it very clear that we needed to go back outside.

  I didn’t fight him. We had to present a strong united front against all those watching us. But what the actual heck was going on with Braxton? Sure, he was always protective and dominant, but that right then had been mate-like, the way he had declared me his territory. Okay, he hadn’t said those words exactly, but the gesture was clear. He was staking his claim on me.

  Which was not awesome. I was seriously going to get zero action with his brand of ownership across my back.

  My dragon and I were going to be having some words soon. That was for sure.

  Chapter 5

  Our food took an exorbitantly long time to arrive. I started tapping my foot after five minutes, and by the ten minute mark Mischa was practically sitting on me to keep me in my seat.

  “Come on, let me go in there, this is freaking ridiculous.”

  Mischa was grinning. “Jess, it’s been like twelve minutes, that’s not a long time to wait.”

  I was a growling, spitting, hissing mess. Okay, probably not that bad, but I was getting mighty pissed. It wasn’t the same for all the supernatural groups, but shifters were part animal, and if you let an animal get hungry … well, we were likely to rip your face off, or some other body part you were probably quite fond of.

  I was exactly three minutes from the point of no return.

  Thankfully, at that moment rabbit boy strolled out the front door holding two large plates, and moved toward the section of the patio we had commandeered. He carried pizza.

  “Seriously,” I snarled at him, “what sort of Italian place doesn’t even have bread on the table.”

  He didn’t blink twice. Clearly I wasn’t the first to snap at him. Instead he produced a basket of bread with a dish of garlic-infused oil balancing precariously on top – Where the hell had that been? – and placed it right in front of me.

  Mischa held both hands in front of her as if appealing to someone with common sense. “Sorry about Jessa. She’s not herself when she’s hungry.”

  My gaze snapped across to her. “Did you just quote a fucking Snickers advertisement at me?”

  We had human television, I knew what she was doing. I opened my mouth to rage at her further, when Jacob leaned over and dunked a slice of bread and shoved it in my mouth.

  “Run while you can,” Tyson side-whispered to rabbit boy, and sure enough, true to his breed he scampered away. I glared at the grinning mage, but truth be told I was already feeling better.

  Damn, this bread was fragrant … and soft … and delicious. Maybe I wouldn’t have to kill myself a rabbit after all.

  Food continued to arrive after that: masses of pizza, pasta, breads, salad. I ignored the green stuff, except to dig out the cheese, but managed to sample everything else. The Compasses and Quale did me proud by demolishing every scrap of food not tied down. Mischa and Grace made pitiful attempts to keep up.

  It was remarkable Italian fare, rich and authentic. Someone knew what they were doing in that kitchen. I couldn’t wait to dine at the other restaurants. Maybe being stuck here for the next month wouldn’t be too bad.

  As I was stuffing my mouth, I noticed two little girls sitting at a table across from us – a different restaurant, but right in my line of sight. They looked so familiar.

  I leaned in Braxton’s direction. “Are those young supes from Nash’s group in Vanguard?”

  They were dead ringers for the two who had torn my heart out, hugging each other. Braxton followed my gaze and stared for about three seconds before nodding.

  “Yes, they were in the room.”

  He’d probably scented them from over here. Dragons were scary like that.

  I examined the girls again. They were sitting with other children, and a few adult shifters. It was no wonder I didn’t immediately recognize them. In Vanguard they had been thin, dirty, and expressionless. Here they were well dressed, clean, and clearly filling their mouths with food. They looked almost content. Well, except for the shadows deep in their eyes. No matter how relaxed they appeared, their body language still screamed of fear and wariness … yeah, not a huge surprise. Those poor children had been caged their entire lives.

  I just hoped they found a semblance of peace in this sanctuary. The Four needed to die. Braxton distracted me by reaching across and grasping my hand. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said enough. He got me.

  Rabbit boy appeared again, dropping off dessert before scampering away. I was almost too full to enjoy it, but I’d push through. Braxton released my hand, allowing me to reach for the chocolatey goodness.

  Just as I was about to bite into my pastry, a nervous tension filtered through the street. Followed by an excited cheer that echoed around the market square, I dropped my uneaten sweet back to the plate. Then, as we stared around, supernaturals started running along the streets. Chairs were flung free and left overturned in their place, as if no one had the time to stop even for a moment.

  I locked in on Quale. “What’s happening?” This secure – and suspicious – little community didn’t strike me as the type of place where supernaturals went nuts and started running in the streets. They were a little too dark in nature, dark and damaged. So what t
he hell was happening?

  Quale rose and the rest of us followed. “The last time it was the twins,” he said, and then he was moving. “They must have returned with the next lot of marked … I have to find the mystics.”

  We were totally not missing this. I snatched up my pastry and let my feet hit the pavement.

  Braxton grinned at me. “Couldn’t leave your dessert.”

  My mouth was too full for speaking, so I just gave him a return smile, one which explained exactly how delicious this chocolate-filled, flaky, buttery … oh, God…

  His grin broadened. “Damn, I should have grabbed mine.”

  I hesitated just before I was about to shove the last of the morsel into my mouth. Instead I extended it toward him.

  His blue eyes heated until they were a melted pool of liquid. Holy eff me. How the hell did he do that and what’s happening to my insides? I was, like, burning up or something.

  “Thank you, Jess, but I would never take the food intended for your enjoyment.” He was growly … his tone layered with a heat that completely matched those eyes.

  I had to wrench my gaze away. He’d just pulled some more mate shit on me. Male shifters don’t take food intended for their mates, not when they knew she still wanted it. Some sort of macho provide-for-all-their-female’s-needs thing.

  It was odd, Braxton had definitely stolen off my plate through the years, but if I thought back, really thought about it, well … he had never taken food until I was done with it. And he always let me have any of his food … pretty much. How had I missed that he’d been acting mate-like for freaking years?

  Jacob’s laughter broke through my thoughts and I was relieved to have something else to focus on. “Did Jessa just offer up her dessert? You okay, babe?” The fey reached out and gripped my chin, turning my face toward him. “Did you hit your head or something?”

  I whacked his hand away, shaking my head at his stupid antics.

  Our pace slowed as we neared the gathered supes. They had congregated at the edge of the town. Clearly not every marked supernatural had dashed over, but there were about two or three hundred hovering around.