“I’ll take responsibility for her.”
His words hung in the air, weirdly suspended there as everyone stared at him. He’d just done a complete about-face not two minutes after declaring it was too dangerous for us wee-women folk. What the hell was going on with those two? Maximus had no time for weakness in others, and besides me and his family I’d never seen him give two shits about any supernatural. If anyone loved-and-left-’em with vigor, it was the vampire.
He hurried to answer our questioning stares. “She’s Jessa’s sister, and if she wants to come along, well, we’re not her father to say no.” He shrugged it off, but the slightest red was staining his cheeks. Interesting.
Jonathon cleared his throat. “Well, I am her father and I’d really rather you didn’t go, Mischa. I’ve trained Jessa, she knows how to fight and she’s tough, with full control of her shifting abilities. You would be vulnerable.”
Mischa crossed her arms. There was the slightest tremble to her lips as she stared into the corner of the ceiling. I could tell she wanted to cry and I was kind of feeling sorry for her. But she didn’t argue, which of course made me want to argue for her.
“What about a compromise?” I found myself saying. “While we search for the prison Mischa can be learning her abilities. If she shows enough power to control her wolf and look after herself, she can come with us to break out the boy.”
We locked eyes and an understanding passed between us. A sense of twin-kinship.
“I don’t need any heroes,” Braxton said. “I know I can’t stop you all from coming – no one ever listens to me, but when it boils down to the actual breakout, you’ll all do everything I tell you.”
I almost snorted, but managed to keep it to myself.
It was weird. From the moment the quads had returned and spoke of the dragon marked rumors and Nash, I’d felt this strange urge to go into the prison. Not to mention there was this fear deep in my gut, a fear that it was only a matter of time before something tore all of us apart. It was as if some sort of strange magic was floating around, and I knew I was being influenced. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Chapter 8
“Mischa!”
I attempted to lower my voice, but it had been at least forty-two failed attempts at shifting and I was getting a tad growly. I was cold and hungry; someone should be feeding me while I was slaving away. It had been a week since the boys were released. They’d narrowed down the section of forest which had the prison beneath it, so now it was all about searching for the entrance. Since it moved every two days, they searched constantly, taking turns. The rest of us waited for the signal to infiltrate, and until then I was trying to help my useless sister. Yeah, I’m a right-old-bitch when I’m hungry.
Mischa was struggling big-time. Her shifter abilities were unlocked, but her fear kept her from being able to relax and let the transformation happen. Sooner or later her wolf – or dragon – would force her, but for now the most we’d achieved were hairy arms. Not a huge success. Maximus appeared over my shoulder. He’d been off feeding, I could tell by the extra-flush in his cheeks. He dropped a kiss on my cheek.
“How’s our girl doing?” he asked.
We both stopped and stared at her writhing on the forest floor. Tyson had used a spell to clear the remnants of sludgy snow from this area and Jacob had a fire lit nearby, but Mischa still looked frozen.
“I think this pretty much speaks for itself,” I said with a lift of my brows. “We’ve reached the stage where she needs a good wax and that’s about it.” I hoped the hairiness indicated that she was a wolf and not some sort of furry dragon. Which would be ridiculous.
“Fuck you,” she snarled at me.
“Oh, and we’ve advanced to cursing and our hearing has improved monumentally.”
Maximus strode over to where Mischa was now in the fetal position. Bending down, he started murmuring to her, and no matter how I strained my ears I could not hear the words. Spoilsport.
Jacob was jogging toward us as well, his face glowing, leaves scattered in his blond hair again. I took a step toward him. “Everything okay?”
He scooped me up and spun me around. “Everything is fine, we’re free of the prison and there have been no attacks. I’m not going to complain.”
I was set on my feet again. “Personally I’m finding it a little unnerving that no one has attacked or tried to frame you again. The last time was so sloppy it makes me wonder what the hell the point was.”