Dragon Mystics (Supernatural Prison #2)

“Yes,” Quale, the eavesdropper, said, “their elders almost never hide them, they are handed over straight away. They also have the least amount of marked representatives. But they are represented across the full range of demi-fey.”


I couldn’t pull my eyes from the group against the wall. Thrills of excitement started to build like small sparks in my stomach. I wanted to see these powers, I wanted to know what the mark was capable of, I wanted to know if I was the only one who could shift to dragon. Surely, if there were any others the mystics would know. They clearly trained all new arrivals.

The mystics formed a line, their hoods dropped back to reveal their strange silver-gray hair, and for once all of their faces were clear to be seen. I liked that, so much was revealed in facial expressions. Gerard and Quale were center again.

One of the grays on the end waved us forward toward the supernaturals lined up against the wall. “Jessa and Mischa, join the group. Observe at first, then you should attempt to access the natural power of the mark.”

I might have rolled my eyes at Braxton and Louis, my exasperation rising to the surface. I hated school, and immediately this reminded me of class. Boring.

Mischa and I fell into the right side of the group, she next to a vampire and I on the end.

The rest of our pack and family moved across to wait off to the side, close enough to see but not get in the way. The mystics lined up in front of us, poised and very still. The hybrid feyness of their energy was still strange. I wasn’t a fan of their weirdness, but I’d put up with it for now. I didn’t anticipate that we’d be stuck in the sanctuary for much longer.

A mystic I wasn’t familiar with started to talk. He had expressive, very dark brown eyes and the most perfect skin I had ever seen. Rich and dark, like freshly ground Arabica beans. The contrast to his hair was pronounced, and yet, it also wasn’t. He pulled it off no problem.

The beautiful male moved along the line of the marked. “It’s important that all of you know we have been observing the dragon marked for a thousand years, and so far there are three traits that each possesses. Number one, longevity of life. You will age until maturity and then no more. We have marked here, some of the first ever born, who look no older than early twenties. You might know that the marked are almost impervious to death. There are some weapons in Faerie which can inflict enough injury to kill, but on Earth you need to fear very little.”

Interesting, so the jinn knew what it was doing by sending me to Faerie.

“The second skill the marked possess is the ability to sense other marked. Your energy calls to each other, and in some ways it is as if you are one big collective. You can tap into each other and form a single unit of power.”

Great! Just fucking awesome. The dragon king could not have designed his army any better, a big bunch of pack-like, immortal drones. He probably had mind control over us too. Although … it would explain why I’d been so drawn to the Vanguard prison, desperate to go back there to try to free those prisoners.

“We believe the king, when he rises, will be able to communicate with all of you at one time. Collectively.”

Braxton was grim faced, legs slightly apart and arms crossed over his chest. Listening and not happy. He wasn’t the only one. I was also feeling “not happy” right now with this entire bullshit endeavor.

“Lastly, you all possess the ability to call on the spirit of the dragon. Touch the power inside and a small facet of the king’s power will become yours. Senses heightened, strength heightened, speed heightened. Basically, you will mimic much of the ability a dragon possesses.”

I raised my hand but didn’t wait to be called on. “Have any marked ever like … shifted into a dragon?” It had to be asked, even though I was almost certain I was the special cupcake of the year.

The mystics observed me for a moment, almost as if they couldn’t believe anyone was questioning them during their “talking moment.” Get used to it.

Quale answered: “No, to our knowledge there have never been any to actually take the form of a dragon. As you probably know, there are no dragon shifters who are marked. They don’t need to be, they are already called to the king’s cause, and they have far greater skills and strength than the marked.”

I nodded a few times as if that was an awesome and legitimate answer. Meanwhile, on the inside I was having a mini freak-out. Definitely a special cupcake. Fuck a duck.

The mystic from before started talking again, shooting me a dirty glare. “As I was saying, these are the three traits present in all marked, no matter which of the races you fall under. We are here to cultivate these qualities so that when the king rises, you will not be taken by surprise.”

I raised my hand again, and with a sigh he quirked a single eyebrow at me. Which was quite a skill. “Why the hell are you helping the king? He’s evil and an asshole. One supernatural should not rule everything.”