Dragon Marked_ Supernatural Prison #1(39)

Jonathon tented his hands in front of him. “You do know that the prison is hidden for a reason.” His voice was low, echoing around the room. “If you’re caught, you’ll be locked away for a long time. And I’m oath sworn, I cannot reveal the location to you.”

Jacob nodded. “We know the entrance to the underground shifts every forty-eight hours,” he said. “We became sort of friendly with one of the guards.”

Tyson snorted. “And by sort of friendly, he means that we scared the ever-living-shit out of him and he spilled lots of information.”

Sounded about right.

Braxton growled. It was deep, not human. “We will find it. This time we won’t be wasting energy looking in all the wrong places. We know a lot more now.”

I joined Mischa in the center of the room. “I want to help too.”

They were going to get themselves killed or locked up again, for life. I was either going to save them or I was going down with them. Plus, I was curious to see if I could sense anything in there about the dragon marked. I wanted to know if I would feel some sort of kinship with others like myself.

The Compasses immediately vetoed the idea.

Tyson was first to jump in. Time for the overprotective bullshit. “It’s much too dangerous for Jessa and her sister to go. The prisoners are not to be messed with. There are some hardcore crims in there. If we get caught, it’s better if they aren’t with us.”

Maximus stood and towered over the two of us, his standard brand of intimidation. “Not to mention the guards are all outfitted with silver and iron bullets, and they’re a little trigger happy.”

Bullets hurt supernaturals – killed us if you hit in the right spot – but if you just shoot us in the leg you’d better run, because we heal fast and will be coming after your ass. Silver is more deadly for shifters and vamps, poisoning us. Fey and many of the demi-fey are allergic to iron; the element does weird shit to their blood. Witches are not weakened by either, but in general heal slower so it evens out.

I took a step back from the black-eyed vampire who was trying to use his will to influence my decision. I could feel my eyes changing as my wolf pushed to the front, and my shifter power rose up from inside of me. The demon whined to be free but I shut it down.

“I’m only going to say this once, Maximus Compass. Don’t try that vamp bullshit on me again. If you try and stop me coming, I will do something bad enough to get myself thrown in there.”

“Jessa,” Braxton said slowly.

I spun and pointed my finger at him. “I’m an alpha wolf, I don’t need any of this overprotective crap in my life. I’m not letting some little boy rot in prison. End of story.” I tilted up my chin.

I felt only a slight guilt that it wasn’t just this factor which propelled me. The rest of my guilt was reserved for the fact I couldn’t explain my real reasons because I was still keeping my dragon mark secret from my friends.

Braxton studied me carefully, his eyes roaming over my face. He must have seen something there, because his right cheek lifted as he half grinned. I was blinded by white teeth and dimples, but I held his gaze. I couldn’t back down now after such a bold statement.

“You can help.” He nodded firmly. “But until Mischa has control of her wolf, she’s too risky.”

“What?” she blurted, opening her mouth to say more, but Maximus cut her off.

“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.”