by Dany Stone
Supernatural Custody
Penitentiary for Paranormals, First Offense
Dany Stone
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
The Adventure Continues
SUPERNATURAL CUSTODY (PENITENTIARY FOR PARANORMALS, FIRST OFFENSE)
Copyright © 2020 by Dany Stone
Editing by J. Patterson Doyle
Cover design by Laércio Messias
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Want free books? Join Dany’s Delinquents for VIP exclusives and a chance to read Supernatural Breakout for free.
Created with Vellum
One
Lux
LUCAW TOWER
CHATHAM, GA.
Five years since the Fracture
I wait until the screams have become incessant before I turn, silhouetted by the pandemonium of LifeScreens behind me. A final look into the faces of a crowd that doesn’t even know me.
Knows nothing of what I really am.
The truth of what I have done.
Sometimes, being a shifter has its perks.
“Dr. Hadley Laveau of HAVOC Penitentiary!” Aiden calls. We raise our intertwined hands and the glamor of our reflection blends into the cascade of lights. A thousand voices scream my name, screaming like every truth about me is a lie and I am their redemption. The faces in the center of the gala room are a blur, too many eyes watching me, too many voices calling Hadley’s name. And not one of them who will remain faithful once everything is exposed. After all, they live only to find themselves pleasure.
Their cheers will have the same intensity when they watch me die.
A hand touches my shoulder, a brush of a body against mine. I glance back, my instinctive flinch held tightly back in check, just as warden Judah Alcatraz enters the stage behind me. His suit impeccable, his smile worthy of a billboard ad.
His gaze lingers on me longer than I like.
“It is an honor to have Hadley here with us tonight.” He steps up to the mic, bowing to acknowledge the increase of cheers. “After four years of serving with her in the reformatory system, I am thrilled to see the changes she has implemented. Please welcome Hadley Laveau, with escort Jace Marrow.”
Shit. Aiden seriously listed himself as my escort? Have a little class, deuce. I cut him a glance, but he’s already rising from the seat beside me. Beaming at the crowd with his squinty little eyes and insanely chiseled face and absolutely no remorse whatsoever.
I have to say, deception fits him.
We lift our intertwined hands, acknowledging the applause, and I smile at the crowd like I’m not losing magic out of every pore. Like this riches-drenched, magic-hungry world is actually part of what we are.
Smiling, smiling, smiling.
All the while the timer in my head counts down to our final minutes.
“As most of you know, Ms. Laveau is not just our resident doctor --- but she is also the face of support for this county.” Judah smiles back at me from over his shoulder, but his eyes don’t mirror the friendliness. They’re dark, too dark, impossible to read. “Thanks to her reformation movement, the streets are safer --- not just for our kids, but for future generations who have nothing to fear from controlled magic.”
Why the hell does he keep looking at my wrist tattoo? Did I miss some component of Hadley’s DNA while shifting? Is there something that gives me away?
You need to get out of here you need to get out—
Under the guise of smoothing my hair, I reach up, summon my mental orb out of sleep mode. My magic blinks to life, connecting me instantly to Aiden’s senses, not that he bothers answering me. My connection invite flashes in the edge of my mind, waiting.
Come on, Aiden. Answer!
Judah is still talking, still smiling, when Aiden enters the telepathic connection. His smile is starting to look desperate.
I smirk in spite of myself. Can’t keep it up either, huh?
Another minute and I’m going to lose it. Get me outa here.
Yeah, really possible when the whole of Lucaw Tower is swarming with Greyhunters and detectors. Demons and citizen soldiers alike on the prowl. Senses on the alert for any invasions.
The security will only become more intense the closer we get to the Shroud.
Aiden nudges me. The longer you wait —
Change in plans, I say. Once the Shroud is obtained, we exit and separate.
Before my magic gives way and I start to lose form.
The fear I’m not about to give words to.
I feel Aiden stiffen beside me. That’s totally against our discussion. I’m supposed to stay with you at all ti —
Even if it means failure?
A blink of silence.
Look. The only reason I’m here is to protect you.
I lean against him for an instant. Then you might wanna protect your own ass first. And do as I say.
Otherwise— Let’s just say I’m not in the mood to deal with getting killed.
He ends the connection without answering me, his fury biting through the silence. His fingers twitch against mine, a grip he clearly wants to drop.
And yet, somehow, we’re both still smiling.
Pretending for a crowd who has no idea who I am beneath this borrowed skin.
Aiden’s fingers slowly begin to release mine. A separation that reaches far deeper than the physical.
“And now we welcome to the stage — Dr. Laveau.” Judah turns from the podium, hand extended to me, and I take his fingers in mine as Aiden’s grip slips away.
“Friends, family, citizens,” I begin. People who think they know me. “Good evening and welcome to the fifth annual HAVOC Gathering Against Magic.”
The crowd’s screams show no sign of lessening. A worship that makes my heart twist with regret.
Regret of what I am.
And what I still have to do.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aiden watching me, his face tense despite all our practice. I wonder if I look the same, if there’s any way for them to see past the pretense that hides my identity.
Any moment, the real Hadley could be discovered, handcuffed and gagged, in the transport van.
And stop this before we have a chance to get to the Shroud.
Are you out of your mind, Lux? Focus! I raise a hand to acknowledge the applause without really seeing the crowd, the haze of performance still locked tightly around me.
Lending a sense of unreality to every breath I take.
“As you all know, tonight is a special occasion for all of us involved in anti-magic protection.” All the ones who hunt me. “And so—” I tighten my hand around Judah’s—“we are excited to announce the acquis
ition of the Shroud of Turin.”
An awed hush silences the applause for a moment.
Before the explosion of questions begins.
“How long until we’re able to harness it?”
“Do you have a guarantee this will work?”
The blur of words and called questions flood the room, too many for me to respond to. Judah presses against me, entirely too close.
Close enough for me to see the narrowed suspicion centered on me.
Stop it. You really think there’s any way he could know?
Well, judging by the look in his eyes — Yeeeah.
Damn it, why is it always the hot ones who sniff me out?
I squeeze his hands tighter between mine and lengthen my smile, hopefully wide enough to blind him. “Given our recent losses while holding the Fracture gate, we have been scrambling for ways to replace that lost manpower. And tonight—” I turn with a well-planned gesture to the door hidden just beyond the stage—“all our hopes have been changed into reality.”
The door creaks open and seven heavily-muscled angels emerge, trundling a covered cart between them. Just the sight of those deadly, perfect bodies makes my stomach twist, and it’s all I can do to ignore the instincts screaming at me to run.
To stop exposing my ass for —what? Someone else’s dream and someone else’s mission? Tigo may be the most powerful mage lord in Chatham, but he isn’t paying me enough for a risk like this.
Good gods.
I just want to go home.
It takes Aiden shoving a foot into my heel to jolt me out of my stare and back into the smiling phantasm of my borrowed identity. I pull myself back into Hadley’s mindset like larva wrapping itself into a cocoon.
I swear it’s just as smothering.
“And so, tonight I’m honored to present the Shroud of Turin,” I say. “With its untapped powers, the Shroud can be used to reach through the Fracture and bring back our dead lost in battle.”
Magic that will be used to build up the mortal army and destroy all underlying magicians —anyone not serving under their restrained magic—to restore the World Order they’ve sought for so long.
At the price of destroying all true supernaturals.
Supernaturals like me.
The explosion of applause gives me a moment to catch my composure. The angels are halfway across the stage now, moments from reaching us, the golden hilts of their swords catching at the overhead light. The Shroud is one of heaven’s most guarded artifacts and one of the strongest source of magic left untapped.
How the hell did we expect this to go right?
I step back from the podium against a backdrop of cheers to greet the angels and they return my bow with sincere respect, their glorious wings nauseatingly bright and perfect, just like the rest of them. A glaring contrast to the scars that riddle their arms and necks, an irritating reminder of their battles against magic. It’s all I can do not to slap their gorgeous faces, just for the hell of it.
Yeah, genius plan for blending in, Lux.
“Greyson .” I turn to the head angel, my Hadley-smile stretching far too wide. Careful— “It is my honor to welcome you to Chatham tonight.”
More applause. Somewhere in the crowd, a woman cheers.
Seriously. This place is full of idiots.
“Dr. Laveau.” He bows over my hand, his immense body creating a tingle in me in spite of myself. He’s too muscular, too perfect, and close enough that a hand brushes along my ass. “The honor is ours.” His touch settles on my hip for an instant before pulling away. Fast enough that anyone watching might think it was an accident.
Well. Who knew angels could get a little frisky?
“May I see it?” I step into their midst, staying close enough to Greyson that my hips brush against him with every movement. Distracting them all so no one thinks to look at Aiden.
A coy sidelong glance at Greyson.
One hand casually coming to rest on the edge of the cart. Fingers resting against the anti-magic guards intended to block thieves.
But I am no ordinary thief.
And there is no better time for them to discover my power.
Than now.
Greyson grabs my hand, the movement panicked, way too quick. “Doctor. The Shroud will activate when handled without—”
That’s when the room explodes.
Two
DAMIEN
LUCAW TOWER,
BACK ENTRANCE
A foul wind blows around the warehouse entrance, a blend of old sea and new blood. The scent of a thousand memories I want only to forget.
For an instant I allow myself a look back. Down the cobblestoned slope leading down River Street and the ships docked in harbor. Let myself pretend this is simply the shipping district, not one of the most heavily guarded anti-magic centers in Chatham, and evil doesn’t exist at this point.
But with every step, the memory of Schray’s screams only grows louder.
“Damien?” Bo brushes my arm. Comes way too close to the base of the scythe strapped to my shoulders.
I jerk away before the touch can connect. “I’m coming.”
Our shoes thud in sync against concrete, only a few steps from the entrance now. I feel Bo watching me through the darkness, the silent study I’ve grown to resent.
Watching me like I’m the reason for his every failure.
He stops in front of the door, one hand on the handle. “All we need to do is make an inspection.” Still watching me. “No reason why you have to bring in the shifter chick tonight. Make a scan and tag her and, I don’t know, follow up with her later.”
“Follow up.” For an angel applicant, he doesn’t have much understanding of how the supernatural world works.
“Yeah. We’d finish up in a few minutes and you can get back to---”
“Bo.” Exhaustion weights his name on my tongue.
Tired of everyone knowing my business.
Tired of always being the helpless one when I’m supposed to be in charge.
There’s probably a reason why Death forbade me to ever bring my little brother on a mission.
Thank the gods he isn’t here to see how right he was.
I reach past him and tug the door open. A pulse of heat pushes out the entrance, raising sweat on the back of my neck.
“Unholy gods.” Bo peers past me into the entrance. “Were we unknowingly transferred to hell?”
I search the nearby sidewalk until I find a rock large enough to prop the door open. “You’re kidding me, right? Do you not remember who sent us here?”
“Was that a joke? Am I supposed to laugh?”
He knows it’s not. Maybe I should apologize to him for what he will suffer for being associated with me.
Why the hell did I ever think it would be OK to sneak him along?
Did you really think having him along would help you forget?
I kick the rock in place between the door and the wall to block its weight. Step over it into the darkness of the warehouse. Concrete gives way to sawdust, fresh, pungent --- and damp.
The smell of death is a chokehold against my every breath.
“Bo.” I reach back for my scythe. “Light.”
This could be a setup.
You don’t even know if she’s really here.
A hundred alarms screaming through my head.
Bo shuffles with his backpack. Tugs his phone free. He shuffles it against his palm until a shift of light breaks free and darts across our path.
Just enough light to see the dark red stain on the floorboard in front of us.
“You know, I could be at home and in bed.” His broken fingers throb in the light. “Just a normal human activity.”
“You’re not normal, remember?”
Ignore his fingers.
Ignore his fingers.
Ignore his fingers.
In spite of myself, I look over. Watch the bloody light warp over his fingers.
A mimicry of the magic current that
destroyed them.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t live under the delusion that I deserve a little sleep sometimes.”
Yeah. He’s in for a rude awakening once he makes it into the academy. Holy stick-up-his-ass Greyson will have a few words to say about it. I shove past him, the flicker from Bo’s phone pursuing me, and step into the corridor leading into the main entrance. The floor is higher at this point, and I hear the rush of water passing under the floorboards beneath our feet, a direct flow in and out of the Chatham River. The layout of the tower is average, like a dozen others I’ve investigated, basically a gigantic playhouse for the rich and famous and well-placed.
But the scent here is — stronger.
Darker.
Not just from the water stench rising from the Chatham. Instead, it’s a scent I’ve come to know all too well.
The warehouse smells like death.
“Gods.” Bo curses behind me. He sounds like he’s holding his breath. “Are the walls made out of blood?”
I step on his foot, just hard enough to get him to shut up. Not that his mumbled curses sound too happy about it. “Would you just focus?” It’s bad enough we have to be here. No reason to make it worse.
I’m doing enough complaining in my head.
A row of doors greets us on our passage through the main entrance, each marked with numbers that certainly would mean something to the dockhands delivering by day. Not that it’d be helpful for us unless the door is marked murder.
“Get the girl, get the bounty, get out.”
Yes, Death. You make it sound so simple.
I test the door in front of me.
Locked.
Also, thanks for sending me on a mission that doesn’t suck.