Dragon Mystics (Supernatural Prison #2)

He chuckled. “Something along the lines of ‘what the hell?’ I don’t think they’re impressed to see us appear inside their securities.”


Couldn’t blame them for that. Their one job was to protect the barriers and the prison, and we’d just strolled right in. The twins were acting pretty indifferent toward the townsfolk drawing closer to us. They joined hands, and while there was nothing obvious about what they were doing, I could see the energy bleeding off them. Then they started to sing. It was a low, haunting melody, which seeped through my skin and settled into my blood. I could feel the notes wanting to twirl their way into my mind, but I was strong enough to hold them at bay.

The conversations from the townsfolk trickled off and silence descended over the snowcapped community. Then they started to retreat back into their hut-style homes and other buildings – seemingly without thought – away from where they had clearly been coming to confront the intruders.

As their song died off I narrowed my eyes on the twins. “What did you do to them? What the hell are your powers?”

Louis was the one to answer. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep this little secret to yourselves,” he said. “I recognize that song. You’re sirens, and you also have persuasion.”

Finally we knew the race of the twins. Sirens. The elusive female fey. Generally they only had power over males, but I didn’t have any idea what “persuasion” was. Obviously something which could influence an entire town.

Louis must have noticed my confused expression. “The twins are very old, and the older fey can sometimes harness a type of influencing energy. We call it persuasion. Sirens are already blessed with persuasive power. Seems these two have tapped into it further.”

I leaned forward, hands on my hips. “Are you saying you can control people? Make them bend to your will?”

Orange laughed in a derisive manner. “If that was the case, we wouldn’t have needed to use Mischa to force your hand. We can send suggestions, but there is no force. Most supernaturals simply do not have the strength of will to even realize their thoughts are not their own. With suspicious supes, such as prison community members, we don’t hide our presence, we influence them to believe we are one of them, not a threat. They ignore us after that.”

Lemon piped up. “It is especially strong with males.”

Braxton crossed his arms over his chest. “Only some males.”

They both nodded, and I realized they must have at some point tried to control my dragon shifter. Stupid bitches.

At least much of the mystery around the fruit twins made sense now. “Since you’re sirens, and the prisons are filled with an overabundance of males in charge … they pretty much escort you right in, don’t they?”

Supernaturals were not generally sexist – aside from the male-oriented mystics – females were equal in all manner, and in many instances superior. But for some reason males were more interested in working in the prison system. The councils were always trying to tempt females into prison jobs, but we seemed to favor the running of the gateway communities.

Orange’s face was hard, her dark eyes flashing at me. “It is not common knowledge that we’re fey, we work very hard to conceal it. We would appreciate it if you didn’t spread this information around.”

I flipped them off. “Appreciate this, bitch. I owe you nothing. Let’s get this freaking show on the road. I have no interest in any sort of girl bonding.”

Yeah, I was pissed. But they had pushed some sensitive nerves, threatening Mischa. I was not playing nice.

Orange hissed, lurching forward as if to attack. Her sister halted her with a little shake of her yellow hair and the fight died out of Orange’s eyes. They seemed to be communicating silently again. I knew they could do that mind speak like Mischa and I, and since they were old and powerful, probably didn’t even have to touch.

Speaking of, my zombie-like sister continued to just stand there observing and not reacting to anything. Despite my worry, there was also a portion of my anger reserved for her. Dad seemed to have the same thoughts, his icy eyes locked on her as well.

I knew one thing from growing up with him – he was pretty lenient in lots of ways, but the few rules he had, he expected them to be carried out without question. And one of them was to have your pack members’ back, no matter what. Mischa was majorly failing at that one today. There was no time to deal with her right now, we just had to hope we lasted long enough to have the family fight I was seeing in our future.

The twins led us along the edge of town. A couple of faces turned in our direction, but no one approached us. We ended up at the base of a massive cliff face. There were a few craggy overhanging crevices scattered over the surface, but mostly it looked like a single sheet of bumpy rock.