Dragon Mystics: Supernatural Prison 2(25)

The fey shifted toward the massive vampire. “We don’t have blood donors here, you will need to find a willing partner, or we have bottled available in the Redcell Restaurant.”

Maximus’ lips curled in a sneer. He hated the taste of old blood.

“I volunteer.”

My eyes flicked to the left. It was Cardia again, and I could see by the way she was eye-effing the heck out of Maximus that she was hoping to get plenty out of this offer. Two vampires feeding from each other probably seemed like an endless cycle of stupid, but as long as one of them, at some point, also fed from other supes, they could sustain each other.

Mischa bristled at the female vamp. I could see her wolf rising. If she had been covered in her fur, it would have stood on end. “You can feed from me,” she blurted to Maximus.

Cardia turned slowly and scanned Mischa from the tip of her black hair down to her toes. With a dismissive shrug, the vampiress didn’t seem impressed or worried about the competition.

Maximus’ brown eyes were dancing. He appeared to be enjoying this little showdown. Asshat. I elbowed him, working extra hard to get him right in the sensitive zone under his ribs.

He narrowed his eyes on me before baring his teeth in a snarl. I flipped up my middle finger, just to let him know my feelings on this.

With a snort and shake of his head he turned to my twin. “Thank, Misch, but it might be a little intimate for you. Just wait here for me, I won’t be long.”

Okay, clearly he knew about her issue. The virgin shifter.

Maximus gave Cardia a single nod and then the two of them wandered off through the crowd. Mischa looked like she’d been punched in the gut, her eyes following until Maximus’ broad back disappeared. I slung my arm across her shoulders. I really felt for her. I knew she had feelings for Maximus, she’d made that perfectly clear. But I was worried that she didn’t really understand the way supernaturals worked.

We tended to change partners a lot, unless we found our true mate. Sure, we might date the same supe for a year or even ten, neither of which are considered long term when you live to almost a thousand. But unless it was a true mate, there were no guarantees. Mischa had grown up with humans and had too many of their ideals floating around her head.

Although from what I could see, even humans struggled to make the whole mate-marriage thing work for longer than a year or two. Probably they were trying to force pairings that weren’t true matches as well. In the supernatural world that sort of mateship never ended well.

There was a surge in the crowd then, and with a hard jolt my arm was wrenched from Mischa and I was shoved aside.

What the hell? No one had been close enough to move me like that.

I took a step back toward my friends, but before I could take a second step a mass of supernaturals crowded between me and them. I was forced further back, losing sight of my pack.

Great.

I decided to just hang out on the edge of the forest until the new arrivals cleared off. Surrounded by greenery, the earthy scents enveloped me as soon as I stepped into the shade of the trees, and I realized how much I missed home. The cool, damp green reminded me of Stratford. The minute details of the scents differed, but it was close enough for now. My wolf rose, pushing me further into the shadows, she was keen to change and run. Giving her an ear scratch I pushed her back again; it wasn’t time now to run off into the unknown. I was reckless, not stupid. Well, most of the time.

My sensitive ears picked up the rustling long before the shine of eyes appeared in the dark undergrowth. A rabbit sprang free, not a shifter, just the natural kind. Probably destined to be someone’s dinner. The creature showed no fear, bounding across the free space and back into the undergrowth that littered the forest floor.

Another noise filtered through to me.

Shit!

I’d been so busy following the little animal and trying to stop my wolf from giving chase that I’d missed the subtle tendrils of magic beginning to weave around me, surrounding me in an invisible energy cage.

It didn’t even matter that I was no more than ten feet from the crowd of supernaturals still greeting their new arrivals. There was no safety with magic.

A hazy figure glided in from the general direction of the desert zone.

Hazy … what the hell?

I forced myself not to panic, even though I had no idea what the freak was coming. I thought I knew every type of demi-fey, but I could sense that this was more … something which was nailing all kinds of scary. I couldn’t think of a single demi-fey that possessed this sort of magic – that which coated my skin in power and raised the fine hairs on the back of my neck. This was energy unlike any other I’d felt.

Not the earthiness of the fey, or the natural magic user, this was cold and ancient, wrapped in a metallic taste that coated my tongue. Still elemental, but from the hard rocks, the minerals, the blood of sacrifice. Freaking blood magic.