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.

Orange turned just enough for me to see her beaky nose and squinty eyes. “Follow our footsteps exactly.”

Ominous words. No doubt there would be plenty of security measures we had to circumvent to make it into Krakov. Prison securities were not to be taken lightly.