Dragon Mystics: Supernatural Prison 2(61)

Influencing minds, like controlling other supernaturals? That was both wicked and scary as heck.

“Why don’t Mischa and I have cool powers like that?”

Louis answered me. “They’re old and have had a long time to develop their abilities. You and Mischa are young, and your powers have been blocked and bound for most of your lives.” He turned to my shell-shocked twin. “Mischa’s marked powers still are.”

I lowered my voice. “Do they have a large dragon mark too?”

There was a few confused looks around the table, but not from Louis. The damn sorcerer always knew everything. Well, clearly not everything, we still had a crap-ton of unanswered questions. But he was on point most of the time.

I explained for the confused. “From what I’ve seen the supes in here have small dragon marks. Mine is like half my side and back.”

Quale shrugged. “I’ve never seen the twin’s marks, and the other mystics haven’t either, but I can tell you that there have been none to enter in the last few hundred years which have a large mark.”

I was sure that the fruit twins had massive marks too. Why would I be the only one in this compass? Mischa lowered her head but didn’t say anything. Her expression troubled me.

Tyson pushed back strands of brown hair. “The spirits – magical essence inside – is urging us to unlock Mischa’s mark, let her and Jessa figure out what their twin-abilities are.”

“No!” Jonathon’s tone was short and hard. “I don’t think there could be anything worse right now than releasing more energy for the dragon king to manipulate.”

Mischa’s chair screeched as she lurched to her feet. “You think I’m weak and stupid. You don’t trust me with my powers. Shit, I was raised with humans, I freaking think like one, and you’re doing nothing to help me adjust.”

She was yelling and waving her hands. Plus she’d just sworn in front of her mother, who had very definite ideas about ladies and bad language.

Mischa turned tail and took off. I could see my parents were about to go after her, but I stopped them. “I’ll go. We need to have a bit of a talk, and I think it’s better if no one else is there.”

I had to get through to her, I couldn’t lose my sister, and I sensed a rift between us which hadn’t been there before I got lost in Faerie land.

Jonathon gave me another hard hug, a goodbye this time. “We also need to talk, my little wolf. I would like to hear what has been happening since you left us. Including your run-in with the jinn and side-trip to the Faerie dimension.”

Nothing slipped past my father, which was why he made such an amazing alpha. Speaking of … I wondered who was running the shifter pack and council in Stratford. The leaders often left, but only for short periods of time. It would be a little sparse on the American Supernatural Council right now, since Stratford was also missing their magic leader. Kristoff was in Vanguard. Well, I hoped he was, he must have had his trial by now. Another thing I needed to talk with my parents about.

“I’ll come and find you after I talk to Misch,” I said. With a kiss on my forehead Jonathon let me go.

I caught Braxton’s eye as I turned to leave, and the heat in his gaze almost had me abandoning my plans and dragging him back to my room. I forced my hormones down, gave him a wink, and was relieved when he returned the gesture with a simple nod. He was working on his overly possessive temperament. Still, there was a battle going on behind his expressive eyes. For now he was trusting me.

“You call for us if there is any trouble, especially if the twins come back.” The low timbre of his voice rocked my girly parts, but I managed to nod without jumping him.

Something light and smooth slipped into my hand. I glanced down to find Louis had given me a small black cell phone. “Untraceable. We all have them. I programmed everyone’s numbers in there.”

I groaned. “You know I’m going to lose this in like five minutes, right?”

“Five?” Jacob muttered. “She’s probably already lost it.”

I stuck out my tongue, waving the phone and my middle finger at him. “Not yet, smartass.”

With laughter following me I hightailed it out of the food street. I had no idea where my sister was, but instinct was sending me toward our apartment building. I was going to check there first.



Cool and still inside the front hall of our residence, I threw the phone onto the kitchen bench and followed Mischa’s scent. She was all wolf and tears right now, a sort of distinct wet dog smell – kidding, wolves’ fur didn’t smell like dog’s.

I tried to figure out what I would say to her, how to offer comfort when I really just wanted to yell at her for being so stupid. I needed to work on the sympathy thing. I was getting worse with old age. I followed the sound of her sniffles into our bedroom.