Lycan Legacy - 4 - 5 - 6: Princess - Progeny - Paladin: Book 4 - 5 - 6 in the Lycan Legacy Series

by Veronica Singer

  "There will be times I can't intervene," admitted Mason.

  "Crap," I said. "I failed high school French." I looked at Mason. "How long would it take me to learn your language?"

  "Five to ten years," he answered. "It's not the vocabulary that's hard. It's the tones and the extra tenses."

  "Tenses?" I asked. "I've heard of tonal languages, like Thai or Chinese, but why should the tenses be hard? It's just past, present, and future, right?" At my comment, Naomi shook her head, but didn't interrupt.

  "Fairies perceive time differently from humans," said Mason. "We have several extra ways to show the passage of time, either negative or positive—" He interrupted himself and shook his head, with the same expression he used when he tried to explain his mathematics of magic to me.

  "So I'll need a translator," I said. I turned to Naomi and said, "Okay, it looks like you're—"

  "You can't trust her," Mason interrupted.

  Anger flashed across Naomi's face. "Of course she can trust me!"

  Mason tilted his head and asked, "What about the time you tried to trade me off for fairy gold?"

  "You understood me?" she asked, then immediately answered her own question. "Of course you understood that. You're good at playing dumb." Naomi looked at me and said, "Anyway, I wasn't serious about trading him for gold. It was just a joke."

  She looked into the distance and added with a sigh, "It was a lot of gold." I had to stifle a laugh at that comment.

  Mason looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Naomi was reliable in a fight, but one of her jokes at a bad moment could be disastrous.

  "Who else could do this?" I asked. "Your friend Pe-Jennie? She's good with languages."

  Mason shook his head, matching my phantom wolf twin. Pe-Jennie was a good person, but as an Upsorn Sriha, she represented a prey animal. We couldn't abide a prey animal interceding for us.

  In exasperation, I turned to Logan. "Do you speak fairy?"

  He shook his head. "I only speak human languages. You know—English, Italian, Russian, a bit of Arabic. I'm not great with languages."

  "Better than me," I said. Hell, I hadn't even been able to pick up much Japanese, despite our months spent here.

  "Until today, I had never even heard of a fairy language."

  Logan took a deep breath and looked down to avoid my gaze. "I don't know if I can go with you, alpha," he said in a low voice.

  "Why not?" I asked. "You can't be afraid of the fairies. We've fought witches and Yakuza together. Hell, I nearly killed you and you showed no fear."

  "He's not afraid of the Fae," said Mason. "He's afraid of what a visit to the moonless lands will do to his wolf personality."

  "You don't know what will happen?" I asked. Then, with a flash of fear, I said, "What’ll happen to me?"

  Mason touched his chest, about where an invisible amulet would rest. A reminder I had protections that the other werewolves of my pack didn't have.

  "With our help," said Mason, "you will have nothing to fear in the Fae lands."

  "Except for all the people who want to kill her," snapped Naomi.

  Mason nodded acceptance. "But she wants to do this. To ensure our children will grow up without fear."

  "That's right," I said. "But I'm still worried about the language problem. Do you have like a phrase book or an app that can translate?"

  "No phrase book can help you, and technology doesn’t work well in the Twilight Lands. Ambient magic plays havoc with electronics. Mmm, let me think." After a moment Mason took my hand and said, "Luna, look at me."

  I stared into his eyes, waiting for him to explain. The moments dragged on, and I started to notice the subtle glow in his eyes, that sign he was a magician. I wondered if he saw something similar in my eyes. Still, his gaze was restful, inducing warm feelings of love and acceptance. The staring contest stretched out for several minutes. It wasn't until I heard Logan's growl that I broke eye contact with Mason.

  Mason smiled and looked at Logan. "Something wrong, Logan?"

  "Nobody stares down my alpha," he said.

  "Her mate can gaze into her eyes without evoking a challenge," said Mason.

  "You're right," I said. "My wolf didn't react. That's strange."

  Logan looked disgusted, so I said, "It's okay, Logan. Despite all the secrets he has, my wolf trusts this crazy magician."

  I turned back to Mason, who was still stroking my hand, sending tingles up my arm. "What was that about?"

  "A test to see if I could speed up your language studies," said Mason.

  I rubbed my belly and said, "One year instead of five or ten? We're on a deadline here."

  "One night instead of ten years," said Mason.

  Naomi jumped in, saying, "That's not possible. Even I took a year to learn your language."

  "You didn't have me as a teacher," said Mason flatly.

  Naomi looked cross, but her Japanese manners prevented her from objecting to Mason's comment. Her eyes said that it was impossible, but her mouth stayed shut.

  Kuga leaned forward and put her hand on Naomi's shoulder, calming her. "So Naomi won't have to go? We won't have to go?" she asked hopefully.

  Naomi covered Kuga's hand with her own and smiled. Then she shook her head and said, "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

  Kuga's face fell and Naomi squeezed her hand to comfort her. "Also, I'm certain my queen will order me to go."

  Naomi looked away and sighed. "We have had centuries of bad relations with the Fae," she said. "This will be a chance to forge some alliances and determine who among the fairies we can trust."

  Mason gave her a sour look, miffed that she hadn’t said that the kitsune could trust him.

  Naomi waited a long moment, then giggled. "Of course I can trust you, Mason," she said. "We share a lot of history. Remember that time you groomed my tail? It was so romantic."

  I shook my head in shock, then saw her sly grin. Mason had "groomed" her tail by cursing her to temporarily lose all her tail hair. Kitsune place great pride in their tails. She’d had to hide out for a month in shame until the hair grew back.

  "Almost as romantic as that time in the onsen when I nearly clawed your tits off," I said with a tight smile.

  Naomi gave me a beaming look and a giggle. Despite myself, I had to suppress a laugh. Damn crazy kitsune; she could talk her way out of anything.

  "Yes," she said. "We share a history. All the more reason to stick together for this adventure." Her look included all of us: me, Mason, and Kuga.

  Mason lifted an eyebrow and nodded, leaving the decision to me.

  Kuga squeezed Naomi's hand, showing that they were a package deal.

  "Kuga," I asked, "are you sure you want to go? This will be dangerous." I bit my lip, but it had to be said. "You're only human."

  Kuga took a deep breath, but instead of answering, she reached across the table and picked up a stainless-steel fork. She stretched out the fingers of her right hand and twined the fork between her fingers. With a slight grunt, she closed her hand into a fist. The faint squeal of tortured metal accompanied the bending of the fork into a U-shape.

  "Human, yes," she said. "But thanks to the energy your pack gave me, I am not only cancer-free, but stronger and faster than most humans.

  "Only human," she continued, "but also the only human who shares a pack link with Luna. I can sense her location, her health, her mood." She nodded to herself. "I think such a talent can prove valuable."

  "You're not the only human who shares a pack link with me," I said.

  "You created other pack links?" asked Naomi. "I thought they were rare and required enormous resources."

  She looked miffed. She was paying a lot for the link that had revitalized her mate and cured her cancer.

  "They are very rare, and I've recently realized how valuable a pack link can be. Would you like to renegotiate Kuga's payment?" I gave her my predatory smile.

  Kuga gave an involuntary head-shake that Naomi caught. Naomi took a deep breath and
said, "No. We shouldn't change anything when you're so desperate for our help."

  "So, when do we leave?" I asked. "How often does the bullet train leave Tokyo for the Fae lands?"

  "We won't be leaving from Tokyo," said Mason.

  At my curious look, he continued, "The area of Earth most congruent with my homeland is in the US. We'll travel there and make the interdimensional jump to my home."

  "Where in the US?" asked Naomi.

  "Las Vegas," answered Mason.

  Logan snorted beer out of his nose and grabbed a napkin to clean up.

  "Logan, do you have something against Las Vegas?"

  "That's where my ex and my kids live," he choked out.

  "Well, you don't have to meet them if you don't want to," I said.

  "Can't I stay here?"

  "No, I need you either with me or in the pack." I left unsaid that he was prone to getting into trouble when left on his own. I had promised the kitsune queen that Logan would cause no more trouble in Japan. Leaving him behind was not an option.

  "All for one, and one for all," said Naomi. "Kuga, we'll get you relieved of your duties at the bank for this trip. I'm looking forward to a trip to Las Vegas."

  I wanted to give Kuga a last chance to back out. This would be dangerous for us, and very dangerous for a human. "Kuga, are you sure you want to go?"

  Naomi and Kuga exchanged nods and Naomi said, "She's sure. She's very strong and very fast."

  "Kuga's strong and fast, but strong and fast don't win fights," said Logan. Not very diplomatic, but true. My pack's best trained fighter, Christopher, was low-ranked in the pack; he was technically perfect, but lacked the killer instinct that would let him advance.

  "I have been training with Naomi," said Kuga. "She says I am an apt pupil."

  "So you'll bodyguard the bodyguard?" scoffed Logan.

  "If necessary," said Kuga. The shy bank manager was adamant.

  "If you're certain," I said. "And you're willing to accept the danger."

  "There might not be any danger," said Kuga. "Your new family might accept the children without a fight."

  Logan snorted and the scent of his beer spread over the table.

  "No matter where Luna goes," he said, "there's guaranteed to be a fight."

  4

  Back in Mason's apartment, I snuggled up to him and nuzzled the side of his neck. Instead of reacting normally, he pulled away.

  "What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you mad about me challenging your stepsisters?"

  "No, it's not that," he said. His guilty glance at my still-flat belly told me what he was thinking.

  "I'm not some delicate flower," I said. "We won't hurt the cubs." I looked at him through lowered brows. "Don't make this weird. I know the news was a shock, but I still need you."

  He frowned, then his eyes brightened, and he said, "We can set up for tantric sex! That will help the babies absorb mystical energies. If they take after my Fae side, growing here on Earth won't give them enough magical energy for a healthy gestation."

  "Are you suggesting sex as a substitute for prenatal vitamins?"

  "Tantric sex," he said. "Think of it as a supplement."

  I groaned internally, then offered a compromise. "Can't we alternate between tantric and normal?"

  "What a great idea!"

  Three days later, we were ensconced in our suite at the MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas. The sounds of the Strip entered the room through the open window, providing an urban background to the sounds of our lovemaking.

  Sated both physically and mystically, I dozed. I felt Mason rise from the bed, then heard the shower running.

  When Mason rejoined me in bed, I expected him to spoon me so we could sleep. Instead, he straddled me on his knees. His hands gently moved my hair away from my face, and he started rubbing my temples. The tingle of magic filled my head.

  "You want more, lover?" I murmured.

  "I would love more fun with you, but it's time you start your language lesson."

  "Okay," I teased. "Let's start with the basics." I reached down and stroked him. "What do you call this?"

  He laughed and pulled away. "Don't distract me or we'll never get done."

  "All right. Let's start the lesson. But I have to warn you, I failed high school French. How do you want to do this? Get a blackboard and chalk? Do they even still use those? Maybe a white-board and markers?"

  "Shh, don't be nervous. Do you remember my lessons about memory?"

  "The one about holograms and fractal patterns and math? If I have to learn that stuff first, I'll never learn your language."

  "No, not the mathematical explanation of how memory works—just the analogy we used."

  I dug back to those discussions. "The mind is like a forest or garden. Creating memories makes paths in that forest. The clearest paths are the clearest memories. What's that have to do with language lessons?"

  "I’ll travel your forest and make some new paths, paths that contain your language lessons."

  "That's not the craziest thing I've ever heard about magic, but it comes close."

  "Part magic, part hypnosis, part deep learning," said Mason.

  While we talked, he kept stroking my temples. His voice became a murmur and my eyelids felt heavy.

  "You know it's impossible to hypnotize a werewolf, right?" I opened my eyes and asked, "You're not going to comb through my old memories, are you?"

  "I promise your memories, your privacy, will be preserved."

  I leaned back again and closed my eyes. "A girl's got to have some secrets."

  I communed with my wolf, asking her to guard my mind. She shot me an image of her guarding the path to my deepest memories.

  As Mason whispered to me in a strange language, I drifted off to sleep.

  I walk up the steps of the red-brick building, stopping for a moment at the top before entering the structure. A deep breath brings multiple scents: ivy-covered walls, other students, the polish used on the floors, and a plethora of other smells.

  For some reason, I can't remember the trip here, nor how I had convinced Raymond and my mom to let me get away from the compound and enroll in this university to take language courses.

  Shaking my head to clear away unimportant thoughts, I navigate to the designated room and enter. A group of students are already present. It's curiously hard to focus on them. The teacher at the head of the room takes all my attention.

  He’s tall and slim, with blond hair that falls in front of his sky-blue eyes, eyes that are strangely glowing. I shake my head and blink and the glow disappears. Maybe it's from the sun streaming into the room reflecting from his eyes. He looks much too young to be a professor. Maybe he's a teaching assistant?

  "Good morning, class," he says. "I'm Professor Muratore. This is your Intro to Fae Language course. Please open your textbooks to Chapter One."

  I open the text with the crackling sound of an untouched tome. The scent of fresh ink and pristine paper wafts from my book. I look at the classmate sitting closest to me, and see highlighter marks and cribbed notes on the margins that show he has already read the first chapter. I will have to work hard to keep up with the rest of the class.

  Several classes pass in a blur, each lesson getting harder and harder. Instead of giving up, like I did in French class, I push to absorb as much of this strange language as possible.

  I'm on chapter fifteen of the thirty-chapter book and I realize I don't seem to have a life outside of this class. All my memories are of this room, this cute but tough professor, and this damn language. I tell myself to quit daydreaming and get back to work. The next chapter has to do with those weird tenses—ways of describing a future as if looking back from a further point in time; ways of describing the past as if from a moment even further in the past…

  The first book is done, my final exam is in front of me, and the answers seem easy. Then I reread the questions and realize I had been using the wrong present tense to form my answers, and every answer is wrong. I scr
amble to correct the errors and push through to get the exam done before the timer sounds.

  "Not bad," comments the professor as he hands me my scored test.

  "Eighty-nine percent," I mutter. "I could have done better."

  "Most of the class failed and won't be continuing," he said.

  I blink and it's the start of the new semester. Same classroom, but many of my classmates are gone, victims of that killer final exam.

  I look at my new textbook. This tome is at least twice as thick as the first. Cracking it open releases the scent of ink and fresh paper. I groan at the sight of the text. The font is much tinier than the first book, and almost half the content is in that weird nonsense alphabet the Fae use. I can barely read beyond the first few sentences.

  It's the middle of the semester and I realize that it's always "now" in my world. Memories of the past and dreams of the future are there, but seem unimportant. With a start, I realize I'm thinking in this new language, and the concept of a static, eternal now fits in perfectly with some lessons.

  I'm taking the final exam and the questions are tough, but we have already covered the material in class. I start out with the correct tense, so my answers are correct.

  My professor hands me the exam with a grin and I see the circled "99%" on the top, which is great news.

  "You're eligible for the next class," he says. "Unless you want to quit?"

  "Hell, no," I say. "I'm just getting started."

  It's the fifth year and only five other students have made it this far. This year's textbook is surprisingly small, back down to a standard size, not the thousand-page monsters we used before. ‘Before?’ What a strange concept. It's always ‘now.’

  I shake my head and open the book to find drawings and short descriptions. "Is this a children's book?"

  "Take a closer look," says the professor.

  I squint at the Fae writing and it writhes and changes under my gaze.

  It takes several nows for me to realize that the writing changes with the passage of time. How else could it be correct? I focus more on the now to make it more now than ever, and the hypnotic writing seems to freeze.