Chapter 3

Chapter Three

OGDEN

Present Day

The crate was too small. I couldn't stand. I couldn't stretch. I definitely couldn't shift into my dragon form without harming myself.

So I sat in my bare-assed human form on the floor.

Normally , a crate like this wouldn't be able to hold me, but magic had been used to reinforce the thick metal bars on this one. Unlike other shifters, dragons kept the full capacity of their magic, superior senses and strength included, even in their human forms, so whatever magic my captors had used was impressive. Those bars weren't budging until my abductors decided they wanted me out.

None of that explained why I was naked, though. Fucking perverts.

What else had they done to me when I was unconscious? I hated that I didn't know. I remembered nothing between the time I stuck my toes in the water for my late-night swim and waking up here.

Wherever here was.

To top it all off, some little bastard mosquito must have bitten me too, because a bump on my forearm itched like crazy. Usually , I healed too quickly to be irritated by little bites like that, so the fact I wasn't was another cause for concern. What if it wasn't a bug bite? What if they'd injected me with something?

Did I mention how much I hated this?

I scratched my arm as I took in my surroundings, looking for clues about how to get out of here. What I saw was alarming, but not especially useful.

Stacks of crates, like the one I'd woken in, filled the nondescript, concrete-walled room. Each cage contained a naked person. My senses identified each of them as a supernatural being.

You know that saying about misery loving company? That's a damn lie. Because every single supe here was miserable and no one was loving the company. I knew I didn't wish to share this experience with anyone. We were being held like this for one reason: We were merchandise in a trafficking scheme.

Fucking assholes.

A whole host of supernatural products, the rarer the better, showed up on the magical black market from time to time, or so the headlines on Supenet claimed. Dragon scales were, unfortunately, always popular, but flaming phoenix feathers and shavings from unicorn horns were the most coveted because of how scarce they were .

None of those headlines ever mentioned someone selling a whole supernatural being. Supes were full of magic, so we were usually too difficult to contain. I hadn't worried about personal security for years, possibly centuries, not since the Supernatural Council had seized and destroyed those heinous summoning spells and talismans.

Honestly , I hadn't worried about it much before then either. Why worry about something before it happened?

But I didn't think anyone had summoned me to this cage. No , this was more like a prison. Apparently , I was na?ve for believing a dragon at the peak of his power would be safe. What was the world coming to? I sighed.

Change sucked.

You'd think that after all this time of being alive on this earth, I'd be a bit more accustomed to change. And usually, I was. When cars replaced horses, I was good. When the first vinyl record released, I was happy. When I could listen to music on my cell phone, I was even happier. And central heating was a luxury I thoroughly enjoyed; it didn't matter that my natural body temperature negated the need for it. But when someone discovered a way to kidnap and cage supes? Well , there were limits to what I was willing to accept.

The silence from all the other people in cages around me was eerily unsettling. A few sniffles, a groan or two, and the soft hush of breathing broke the quiet, but nothing else. Our captors, whoever they were, hadn't made an appearance since I woke.

" Hey ," I said with a smile to the monkey shifter to my left .

He shuddered, shook his head, and cringed away from me. Several people hushed me.

Well … okay, then.

I leaned to the right.

" Hi , there," I whispered to my other neighbor.

The guy to my right looked at me with big, wide eyes. His hair was a mop of chaotic curls, making him look rather cherubic. Oh . He was adorable. I wanted to take his cute little cheeks in my hands and give them a squeeze. I always felt that way about unicorns, and based on the iridescent shimmer to his curls, I figured that was what he was. His gaze darted to the far end of the room, to where I imagined the door was, even though I couldn't see it.

" My name is Ogden ," I said.

The guy's mouth opened and closed twice before he swallowed. " Umm … Morgan . Morgan Russell ."

His voice sounded hoarse, like he didn't speak much. If he'd been here a long time and his other neighbors were like the guy to my left—too scared to even whisper hello—he might be a little rusty.

" Hey , Morgan , do you know what's going on here?"

Someone across the aisle hushed us.

" Shut up," a woman whisper-shouted as she glared at me. " Shut up or you'll make it worse."

I frowned.

We were already in cages. What could be worse?

Although … I supposed things could always get worse. Damn it. I hated when I jinxed myself. Because now that I thought about it, I realized there were dozens of ways to make this worse. The place could catch on fire, and we'd never be able to escape. Our captors could deny us food. They could slaughter us and harvest bits of our bodies to sell.

That last one made me pause.

I may have lived for a long time already, but I had no intention of dying now. Not like this.

They wouldn't be that short-sighted or dumb, would they?

After all, if they kept us alive, they could harvest our scales or our feathers or whatever else again and again. Not that I was knowledgeable about animal husbandry or the agricultural industry—that was more my parents' purview—but I figured that was the difference between shearing sheep for their wool and butchering them to eat them. You could shear a sheep repeatedly, but you could only eat it once. Although I was definitely too pretty to be compared with any type of livestock.

Still , if I was going to accept that someone had tricked me and captured me, I would prefer that they at least be a bit clever.

I needed more information. It usually required a lot of powerful mages in a stable coven to maintain the Supernatural Council's prisons—complaints about the cost of hiring covens to do that had been all over the Supenet news articles a few years ago when they changed the correctional system from execution to imprisonment. I glanced around. No one was in the concrete room except the prisoners.

" How many people are in the coven?" I asked.

Morgan's forehead squished up in confusion. " What coven? "

Now it was my turn to be confused. " If it isn't a coven, who is keeping us here?"

He lifted one of his thin shoulders in a small shrug. " A troll comes in and checks on us."

A troll. A single troll. That made no sense whatsoever.

" Why don't we have our clothing?" Okay . That wasn't the most important question I could have asked, but sitting here with all my bits on display was annoying. Not to mention that I wasn't all that eager to see all these strangers' bits either.

" We used to…" Morgan's face paled. " But a few of the others used their clothes to hang themselves…" He shivered as he spoke.

I was sorry I'd asked.

" Shut up," the woman demanded again.

Morgan's cheeks darkened at the angry woman's reprimand, which at least brought a bit of color back into his cheeks.

" It's okay, Tammy , we'll be quiet," the unicorn said. He shot me an apologetic smile and stared ahead again.

Fine .

Maybe Ms . Angry Ass across the way would fall asleep soon and we could chat then.

I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes, suddenly wishing I'd learned to meditate. I could use some Zen in my life about now.

Who was I kidding?

Being mellow was not my thing.

Maybe a little pick-me-up would be better. Yeah , that was the answer. I never left the house without doing a little shimmy to a good song. " Great Balls of Fire " was my favorite because I could punctuate the verses with blasts of actual fire. When that song was first released, every dragon I knew, me included, picked up the single. It set my mood for the rest of the day. I couldn't dance in the cage, but there had to be something we could do.

Frowning , I scanned the room again. No one succeeded in this morose atmosphere. It looked like it was time for a little sing-along.

I hummed as I filtered through the songs in my head until one made me smile. Perfect . The ‘50s were a fantastic era for music. Seriously . Like what's not to love about " Lollipop " or " The Purple People Eater ."

I sat up, crossed my legs—since that's the only way I could fit them in here even though I was a little on the, ahem, petit side—and leaned against the bars. The magic on the crate tingled along my spine, but I ignored it. True performers didn't let a minor discomfort interfere with pleasing their audiences.

My fingers snapped four quick beats into the oppressive quiet to get the timing. Someone cried out.

Across the aisle from me and beside the angry lady, a phoenix went up in flames. Oops . I waited for the smoke and flames to die down before doing anything more. Well , that was one way to find out there weren't any fire alarms or sprinklers in here.

When a mature human figure emerged from the ashes in the other cage, I waved at them. Their skin was rosy from regeneration, which made their scowl look fierce. They definitely didn't look like someone who would have a heart attack and die so easily. And if they were, the regeneration probably did them a world of good. Clear out the arteries. Start fresh. All that.

" Sorry ," I called out. " Didn't mean to startle you. Just thought we could all use a few tunes."

The phoenix muttered angrily, but I ignored their complaints. I hadn't scared them on purpose, and I'd already apologized. What more did they want from me?

" Okay , folks, let's try this again," I announced loudly. I didn't need anyone else to freak out.

I snapped my fingers again in a quick one, two, three, four… Then I belted out the opening lines of " All Shook Up ."

By the time I was on my sixth tune, the mood had improved a lot.

The adorable, dark-haired unicorn in the crate beside mine was happily singing with me in all his rainbow glory. When he forgot a line, he laughed freely, sending little iridescent bubbles shooting out his mouth. Unicorns were strange little creatures, but his happiness was infectious. Several people were bobbing their heads now and joining in on the choruses. It was great. Of course, I stayed away from the somber tunes like " Leader of the Pack " and " Tell Laura I Love Her ", so that helped. No one needed morbid ballads right now.

" What the fuck is that noise?"

The shout came from a troll of shockingly diminutive size. She lumbered across the room toward me. Well , to clarify, she wasn't smaller than me, but compared to other trolls, she was tiny. This must have been the troll Morgan had mentioned .

Instead of showing my fury at my situation, I beamed at the newcomer and waved. My unicorn buddy wasn't laughing now, and that made me want to hurt the intruder. Something about the little guy made me want to protect him.

Actually , now that I thought about it, I realized most of the beings in the crates were smaller than what was typical of their species. Had our kidnappers intentionally chosen the smallest of our kind to nab? Did they think we were weaker because of our size? If that was the case, I looked forward to proving them wrong.

" Oh , hello," I said as I wiggled my fingers at the troll. " We're singing a few songs to pass the time. Do you want to join in? I think everyone knows the lyrics to ‘ Splish Splash '. If you don't, I think you'll pick them up quickly." I started the song, ignoring how my fellow prisoners gaped at me and pushed themselves up against the backs of their cages, away from the troll as she stalked toward me. A cattle prod dangled from one of her long arms.

" Shut up." The troll glared at me.

" Oh , don't be rude." I shook my finger at her. " You know that's not nice. Now where was I ?" I cleared my throat.

" No more songs."

" Oh , honey, don't clench your teeth like that. You'll hurt yourself." I leaned forward. " You seem a little stressed. I once dated a troll, so I understand about troll families. I love my mom, but you trolls are next level. You are all about your strong matriarchs. It is truly impressive. I'm guessing you don't have your own clan yet, hey? Are you still living with dear old Mom ? Do you want to talk about it?"

Most of that was true. Sort of. I hadn't actually dated Wendell , but he'd come into my old bar all the time and cry in his ale while I served him. For the record, trolls don't tip well, but they can drink a lot. It kind of worked out at the end of the night. As long as he sat at the bar and didn't take up a table where the staff had to deal with him, I was happy to pour his drinks and listen to him.

" Oh , I know… it's the ‘50s you're not fond of. How about ‘ Dancing Queen '?" Every troll I'd ever met had a thing for ABBA . When Mamma Mia ! came out, the trolls had been the first ones through the door.

The troll's face softened in interest for a moment before she scowled again. " No songs. No singing."

She hit the side of my crate with her plump palm. The magic on the bars hummed but didn't zap her or me. The cage itself jostled a bit, but I wasn't worried. Trolls didn't have magic, at least not the kind that could do anything to the crate. No , whoever had put the spells on the metal bars, it hadn't been a troll.

" Are you sure? It doesn't have to be ‘ Dancing Queen '. What about ‘ Take a Chance on Me '? That's always a crowd favorite."

" Stop talking. Stop singing. Stop it all."

" Or what?" Okay . Most people wouldn't goad their captor—at least that's what I was sensing from my fellow prisoners, based on the way they were cowering—but I was a dragon. I didn't have to listen to anyone.

The troll's bulbous nose crinkled as she sneered. " I will come in there and?— "

" Oh ? You're going to open the crate? Honestly , that would be swell." I clapped my hands in delight and grinned as I twisted and made a half-assed attempt at stretching. " I'm getting stiff sitting like this. I would love to stretch my legs."

The troll snarled as she shoved a cattle prod through the bars. I snatched up the end of it, brought it toward my mouth. I inhaled sharply, then spewed a blast of fiery electricity along its length. The crackling current shot up the metal.

Contrary to what the prod's design specs undoubtedly said, the insulating protective grip wouldn't confine all electricity to the metal rod—at least not when a dragon produced the electricity. My fiery electricity zinged over the surface of the prod until it reached her hand, then continued up her arm. It only stopped when she dropped to her knees in pain and pulled the prod out of my crate.

Apparently , no one told her my species of water dragon had not only fire, like other dragons, but also power surges like electric eels. Some people were victims of their own ignorance.

The reek of burning flesh made me cough. I waved my hand in front of my face. I hated when that happened. It was such an unpleasant smell.

She shrieked, cradled her hand, and sprinted for the door. Well , given her size, it was more like a clunky trot than a sprint.

" Bye ." I waved cheerily at her retreating back.

I smiled at my fellow prisoners, who were now looking at me with the same wariness they'd shown the troll when she first arrived .

" Okay , now, where were we? Oh , yes, we left off at ‘ Splish Splash .' I want to hear the people in the back, so remember to sit up straight and smile. Alright , everyone, I'll count us in. And a one, two, three, four…"