This knowledge might have slanted the actions of the fruit twins in a new light, breaking in to save all the marked – except I knew they hadn’t just done it to save them. They’d also been looking for Mischa and me. Selfish actions to free a megalomaniac king.
I remained on high alert as we wound along the corridor of prisoners, forcing myself not to watch the bleak faces behind the magic glass. I closed my ears to the rambling mutterings, the screams, the animal-like noises. Nothing I could do to help them. I wondered if Jonathon knew how harsh this prison was. Surely there had to be some sort of regulations on treatment of prisoners. It would be better to kill them than continue a lifetime of torture. Supernaturals lived for a very long time.
We encountered three more barred gates, but each time there was at least one male on guard, and they were more than helpful to the twins. I’d thought they were so badass when I’d first heard that two females were breaking out the dragon marked, but they were pretty much escorted right in and out. No risk. No badassery required. Posers.
The worst of all was the fact that so many supes had a weak enough mind that they could be influenced, although I knew it was harder to fight when taken unawares. And the twins were old and powerful. But still.
The cold was increasing as we traversed further into the mountain, and the path seemed to be tilted downwards, heading straight into the basement of this damned place, which gave me a very uneasy feeling. So much stone surrounded us now.
My wolf and dragon both started to growl and I had to cut off that line of thought to calm them down. And myself. Mostly myself, because I was starting to get a claustrophobic freak-out feeling.
“How much further?” I finally snarled, unable to stand the silent walking any longer.
Lemon graced me with a smirk. “Almost there, wolf. The weapon is in the very lowest dungeon of this prison. Where the oldest, most powerful and most evil prisoners rest.”
Awesome. And if we were truly lucky, these prisoners would all escape just before we got down there. You know, just for kicks.
With a sigh I settled in for the rest of the long walk. Eventually, we reached a sort of t-section and the twins chose to go left, the path started descending quite steeply. I was still trying to build an image of Krakov in my head. This place reminded me of underground images of ant hills, or the chambers below the pyramids in Egypt. The only light in this section was from small crystals embedded high in the stone walls.
“What was down the other path?” I asked, finding the t-section odd.
I couldn’t see which twin, but I thought it was Orange who answered. “That’s the mingling area. They take fifty prisoners at a time – any more and they don’t have enough guards to control them. This happens twice a week, for a few hours per group.”
Only twice a week. These prisoners must be literally insane.
“How is it that you know so much about the inner workings of the prisons?” These bitches were so suspect. I wished Dad or the quads were here. I was going to need someone in my corner. I was outnumbered and lacking vital information.
“We’re old, we have been moving through the supernatural world for a long time. And Krakov is a prison which is important to us.” Orange again, and surprisingly forthcoming with information. Usually when the crazy ones are loose lipped it’s because they are about to kill you. But surely the twins knew they couldn’t kill me. They were marked also, and had the same lack of vulnerabilities.
But maybe they knew what our weaknesses were. I wasn’t surprised that the Four didn’t know, no one was going to broadcast it to them, but I sort of thought the twins might have the knowledge.
The cold was starting to bother me. It was icy enough to take my breath away and freeze my eyeballs. Moisture gathered on my lashes, and my lips felt dry and chapped. I was dreaming of food, a warm bed, and a naked Braxton. Maybe I could eat my food off a naked Braxton while in bed. Yes … yes, that was a great plan.
I knew when we neared the lower levels of the prison. The energy grew strong, the securities pressing. The elements woven into the bars of the prisoner’s cells were visible, and on instinct I shied closer to the stone side. For the first time in ages my eyes alighted on the prisoners. I blinked a few times. Unlike the sad souls up higher, all of the ones down here were sitting perfectly still, making no noise, and all staring straight at their bars as if they could see through the magic one-way-glass. The only reassurance was that their eyes didn’t follow me, but still it felt eerily like they could see what was happening.
In this row I recognized a few famous supernatural criminals. From what I could remember of history class, this appeared to be the section for crims who had created massive publicity in the human world. I growled as a familiar face came into view – a sorcerer, his white eyes identifying him immediately. I wasn’t sure of his real name, the text referred to him as The Rostov Ripper. He was a serial killer of the worst kind. He loved young girls, luring them in, raping and torturing them. A pity that his incarceration didn’t include daily disembowelment. I was actually a little surprised he was still alive. The high security and separation in this prison had allowed him to keep his head. Which was a fucking shame.