Dragon Marked (Supernatural Prison #1)

Just as I stemmed my inappropriate thoughts, I noticed the swirls of energy they were releasing between the two of them. Tyson was working some magic and Braxton was helping. It started to form something dark, a misty hole, and as they raised their heads and hands upwards I could clearly see a large hole had shaped between Tyson and Braxton. It was weird, shadowy, shifting as I tried to focus on it. I heard Mischa’s sharp intake of breath and barely stifled my own gasp as the two of them plunged forward and entered the misty door headfirst. They disappeared.

Jacob and Maximus came in behind us, and staying at our backs they ushered Mischa and I toward the space. I so didn’t want to enter that door, but I’d die before admitting to being a coward. My wolf rose to the surface, allowing me to share her courage and strength.

Mischa’s soft voice broke the silence. “I can feel my wolf.” She sounded strangled. “She wants to be free.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand. “No, she’s reacting to your fear. Trying to help you. When you are more experienced you’ll be able to bring her close but not shift, sort of existing in an in-between state. But right now is not the time.”

Thankfully, she was distracted by Jacob nudging us into the portal. Just like with the boys, we entered head first. I dropped in a slow motion sort of twirl. I knew magic was at work here, I could scent a high level magic user all over this. I landed smoothly, in a crouch position, almost as if I’d been guided the entire way down. I stood, relieved to see Mischa next to me. Her wide green eyes were just visible in the very low light. We were underground, in a dirt-lined cave entrance, small lichen mosses up high on the walls giving off a soft, ambient glow. Shadows moved toward us, but thankfully it was only Braxton and Tyson. Jacob and Maximus appeared behind us and we were all ready to go.

Braxton took the lead and started to step cautiously through the tunnel. My eyes were darting left and right as I followed along, but so far there was nothing but dirt and rock surrounding us. We were moving toward a light, or an area that was brighter; it shone as we stepped closer. Finally, as we moved from that small, dark tunnel and hovered near the edge of the light, I raised my hands to cover the series of gasps and curses that wanted to fall from my mouth.

The space before us was massive. From what I could see the underground area was almost the size of Stratford. Beyond the cleared space stood an immense circumference of spotlights, suspended on tall poles. The bulbs shifted around on a rotation, keeping the area well lit. The prison walls towered into the sky. I had no idea how high the ceiling was, I couldn’t see any end from where I stood. The prison looked a little like the human ones I’d seen on television: solid gray walls, styled like stone, but I could sense the other elements weaved into the structure. Iron, which was a weakness for many; salt for its purity; varying bloods which were strong enough to spell for protection and strength; not to mention the standard silver, copper and gold, elements of vulnerability for all five of the supernatural groups.

Which made sense considering who they were containing. But how were we going to traverse this area without being affected by these inbuilt defenses.

Braxton answered me by stepping forward and slipping a leather chain over my head. It had a turquoise stone, around the size of a quarter, tied on to the base. As it touched my skin – resting between my breasts – I felt a sort of buzz.

He leaned down and murmured in my ear. “The stone is spelled to shield us against the protections of the prison.” I notice Maximus place the same over Mischa’s head. And all the boys had one too.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Where did you get these necklaces from?” I whispered back.

“The guard.”

I silently snorted. I should have figured that.

Jacob was close enough to add to our very low conversation. “We skillfully persuaded him.”

Most likely scenario: they beat him until he promised the stones. Typical Compass persuasion. There were lots of different supernaturals milling around the outer zone of the prison. Some were in a dark gray uniform, carrying what looked like weapons, so I was going with guards. Others were more official, their uniform black, with decorative stars and decals lining the shoulders and lapel area. Management or specialists.

“I don’t suppose you have uniforms for us to blend in,” Mischa asked.

Maximus shook his head. “No, but we know that there’s a guard shift change very shortly. They all meet around the front for a brief rundown. They seem to be more relaxed on the outside then the guards inside. Mostly, they expect prisoners to be breaking out.”

I was reminded of the breakouts that had been happening around the world, the dragon marked. This was probably the worst time to attempt this. Surely security was going to be beefed up. Not that I could see anything specific. Maybe there was stronger magic at work or something, things I could not detect with the naked eye.

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