Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book Three
Life at Lansing Supernatural Prison is worse than ever. A riot followed by another failed escape attempt has made things unbearable for the teen inmates who have already been to and hell and back. But apparently, there are deeper levels of hell than even they knew.
The new warden is the stuff of nightmares, and Phoebe Atkinson is losing sleep with nightmares of her own. It feels like she’s losing her sanity too. Her friends, and especially Xander, are what keep her going—that, and the hope her father is still alive.
Xander Aldrich feels like time is slipping through his fingers, and Phoebe may be too. Though his determination to be free has never wavered, it’s not something he can do on his own. Unfortunately, trust doesn’t come easily these days, especially when help arrives in the form of a former enemy.
When inmates start disappearing, the stakes become too high to ignore. But will it be every supernatural for himself, or will they band together and break out?
Titles In This Series
I locked eyes with him, thankful mine were no longer filled with tears. I refused to show weakness in front of this man. “Excuse me?”
“In Islamic mythology, that’s the name given to the phoenix.”
Did he think I cared? I had been nothing but respectful to this man, and like all of my rule-following ways, look where it got me. I was exhausted and wrung out. I was done.
“Am I supposed to be impressed with your vast knowledge of mythological creatures?” I asked.
He smirked, as if my sass amused him. I was not amused.
“Why aren’t you with your family? Last time I checked, it’s the middle of the night.”
His smile vanished. Good. If I was miserable, he should be too.
“You kids are my family now.”
What was it with these psychos? Did they just drop their families like bad habits when the oh-so-prestigious prison warden position opened up? It certainly appeared that way.
And yes, I was keenly aware that included my mother.
“No, Gina is your wife, and Zoe and Zane are your children. Remember them?” I asked. “And please don’t waste your breath telling me you’re doing this for them. I’ve heard that before, and it means nothing to me.”
“That’s a shame, because it should,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Your mother, though misguided in some respects, was a woman dedicated to the mission.”
I didn’t want to hear another word. Not about my mother. Not about the mission. I only cared about one thing.
“Where is my father?” I whisper-shouted. “What have you done with him?”
Mr. Fletcher pursed his lips together and took a step backward. No. I had questions, and he had answers.
I scrambled up from the floor, but he’d backed away even further. When he finally spoke, his words snaked down the length of my spine.
“A curious thing about the anqā, Phoebe, but it may interest you. According to legend, God created the bird to be fully perfect, but along the way it became a menace.” He paused and then lowered the boom. “Therefore, the phoenix had to be killed.”
It felt like he’d delivered a physical blow. Before I could recover, he was gone.
I stumbled back to my bed. I had no doubt Lucy heard every word of our conversation, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
Was Mr. Fletcher saying he knew of a way to kill me? Was he saying that he would?
Oddly, I thought of the twins at that moment. Had he always been like this? Was that his idea of a bedtime story?
Because no way I was going back to sleep now.
Available for preorder.