"Logan says he's too old to bother fixing his teeth. Plus, I keep him busy. Try it. You can choose any dentist in Las Vegas, even the top tier ones. If the doctor you like doesn’t take insurance, the company will still pay." I stared at Alisha's pockmarked cheeks. "Dermatologists are covered, too."
She looked down and gritted out, "What do you know about dermatologists? You look like you never had a zit in your life."
"My complexion was worse than yours and my teeth were terrible. They teased me a lot at school. But my life changed when I got all that fixed." No need to mention that the change was due to my werewolf shifting allowing me to fix my teeth and skin. There had been a huge change in my social standing when I came back to school after my first shift.
"How can your company afford to pay everyone’s medical? Mom takes us to the free clinic whenever we need something.”
"We have a large contract with the US government." Part of our deal with the government was to keep werewolves away from normal society, and they paid a lot to ensure it. Since most werewolves preferred to live near the wilderness, it made sense.
But now that we were including human mates and children in our pack, we needed to set up insurance coverage for those who couldn’t heal by shifting.
Alisha opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when I asked, "Do you guys want to go shopping?"
Brita nodded enthusiastically, but Alisha shook her head. "Two hundred dollars won't go far in this mall."
"Your dad left some money for shopping. He asked me to take you because he thought you'd be embarrassed to go shopping with him. Let's go get you two some new outfits for school."
Two hours later we walked out of Dillard’s, our last stop. Alisha and Brita were loaded down with bags full of clothes and shoes.
The two of them trailed behind us as we exited the mall. "Don't pull the tags off," whispered Alisha. "It’ll piss Mom off."
"But I like these shoes. My old ones are too tight."
Naomi looked at me with a quizzical expression. Should I tell her that Stefania planned on marching back into the store tomorrow to demand cash refunds so she could squeeze more out of Logan?
But that thought was thrust aside at the rage Kuga and I felt through our pack link with Logan. Something bad was happening.
7
We turned toward the far end of the parking lot. Two Las Vegas police cars were parked askew with their lights flashing. A shirtless Logan was standing outside the nearest car, surrounded by three cops. They had handcuffed his hands behind him.
To one side stood Stefania. She had an evil grin on her face and was filming the event on her iPhone.
We hurried over to the scene, where a crowd was gathering. Before we got close enough for the smell of magic to reach Logan, I zapped all the phones and cameras in the area.
A beefy cop was tugging on Logan's bound arms. "Get into the vehicle, asshole."
Despite the rage, Logan grinned his gap-toothed smile and said, "You know, your wife likes the cuffs tighter. You're too much of a pussy to do it right."
The cop tried a take-down, pushing hard on Logan's back while sweeping his leg against Logan's shins. He may as well have tried the move on a telephone pole—Logan didn't budge and the cop just grunted with the effort as his leg bounced off Logan's. He put his hand on his weapon.
I held a tight control on Logan's wolf, preventing him from shifting. The steel of the handcuffs squealed as Logan began pulling. A dozen cops couldn't stop Logan if he got free, but one of those idiots might shoot and kill some civilians.
I pushed down the thought that Stefania would make a good target and looked at Naomi. This was a situation that fit her talents well. Logan and I were good at destruction, but she was good at distraction.
She nodded at me and walked up to within arm's reach of the cops. Suddenly, her pheromone attractant scent wafted over the group. I could faintly make out her foxtails—they were invisible to humans—as they swished back and forth to send the perfume toward the cops.
Logan snorted and held his breath. He had been subjected to Naomi's tricks and was strong-willed enough to resist. The three humans had no protection. As if pulled by strings, all three heads turned toward Naomi and three equally moronic grins crossed their faces. Erections tented their pants. They fixed their gazes on this tiny, smiling, goth-dressed woman.
"Officers," she said in a voice that could charm snakes, "I'd really appreciate it if you let my friend go. I'm sure this is a misunderstanding."
"Yeah, Sergeant," said the cop that had tried to trip Logan. "His ID is for a Caleb Jones. The warrant’s for a Logan Walsh and lists a bunch of tattoos. He's just a random guy who looks like this Logan character." He smiled at Naomi like a dog expecting a treat for a trick.
Stefania opened her mouth and screeched, "He had his tats removed. He's Loga—"
I stepped over to her and thrust out a single finger, hitting her solar plexus and halting her speech. She stared daggers at me, but couldn't breathe well enough to speak.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a special key. No one noticed as I moved up behind Logan and unlocked his handcuffs. All eyes were fixed on the scene Naomi was playing out in front of them. I only half-listened; keeping Logan's enraged wolf in check was taking all my attention. I stroked Logan's shoulder to comfort him and his wolf, and his anger abated.
Naomi was saying something about coming down to the station to straighten this mess out and how she hoped these cute officers would be there to greet her.
I walked up behind the bemused cop and slid the slightly warped cuffs into the empty holder on his belt. He ignored me, staring at Naomi as if hypnotized.
The three cops gathered around Naomi and I could hear her giggle at their comments. Logan's ripped shirt was lying on the ground, so I picked it up and handed it to him.
"Why don't you take your kids back into the mall for an ice cream, and get yourself a new shirt?"
"I can’t believe my luck, only been here 24 hours and those cops showed up with an old warrant? Good thing I shed my tattoos and had that spare driver’s license."
Naomi opened her mouth to make a comment, but I stopped her with a head-shake.
Logan gathered the kids and walked them back toward the mall. On the way, he popped open the trunk of our rental car and dropped off their purchases. The crowd dispersed as the cops got back into their cars and drove away.
Stefania was still bent over, gasping for breath, when I extruded the claw on my index finger and used it to lift her head up so she was looking at me. I let my eyes shift. She tried to avoid my predator gaze, but my claw dug into the soft flesh under her chin.
"I don't believe in coincidences, and I'm not as nice as Logan. You ever pull any shit like this again and I will rip off your fake tits and make you eat them."
"But I didn't do any—" Her voice cut off as my hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her so that her toes were grazing the ground. Stefania didn't seem to be the type to listen to sweet reasoning.
"Don't lie. I can smell lies. You thought getting Logan arrested in front of his kids would be good revenge. Because of the kids, Logan won't kill you. I have a different opinion—I think the kids would be better off without you. You're only alive because Logan works for me and I don't want his kids to suffer."
I lowered her and eased up the pressure on her throat. She glanced around, looking for someone to help her, but all the people were ignoring us. Plenty of people had gathered for the interaction with the cops, but humans ignored the slightest hint of the supernatural.
I released her throat, stepped back and made a ‘turn around’ motion with a clawed finger. "Run along now. Your kids will try on their new outfits and come out to dinner with Logan and us."
We used our noses to track Logan and the girls down to the food court. Logan was wearing a "Welcome to Las Vegas" T-shirt in place of his destroyed shirt.
"Good news, girls. Your mom said you can hang out with your dad and us. Have you gu
ys ever seen a magic show?"
"I think I just did," said Alisha. "How did you get those cops to back off? And how the hell did you get Dad out of those handcuffs?" She looked at Logan and asked, "And you have a fake ID? Who the hell is Caleb Jones?"
"Oh, that wasn't magic. Naomi just used her natural charms to explain that they had the wrong man. Once they looked at the warrant, they could tell that the Logan they were looking for was a different person."
"See? The goth look still works," said Naomi with her mischievous grin.
"And the handcuffs?"
I reached into my purse and pulled out a small charm. It was smaller than a marble and had craters engraved on the golden surface. "I told you my mate is a stage magician. We do a lot of escape routines." Too damn many. "I always carry this trick charm."
They looked on intently as I showed them how to work the tiny spring-loaded catch that opened the charm. The moon split in two, revealing a standard handcuff key affixed to the interior.
"I used this key to open your dad's handcuffs. The cop was so distracted, he didn't even notice when I put them back on his belt."
"How did you know this key would open those cuffs? They can't all be the same."
"They are all the same. It's a safety feature. Sure, there are some specialized cuffs out there that are different, but I could tell these were standard cuffs."
"And if they hadn't been standard cuffs?"
"I'm also great at picking locks."
Alisha spent a few minutes on her phone, then looked up accusingly. "It says it's illegal to own a standard handcuff key unless you're with the police."
"Or if you work for the government." I waved at our group. "Like us. We can also get fake IDs."
"Can I get one of these handcuff keys?" asked Brita. Her eyes were wide with excitement.
"If your dad wants you to, and if you can keep it a secret. These are not for showing off."
"But we don't work for the government. Won't we get in trouble?"
"Not if you can keep a secret. I could get out of handcuffs by the time I was Alisha's age, long before this government contract." Naomi smiled at my misdirection. I would not tell them I had been able to break standard cuffs at that age.
"You make it sound like you get kidnapped once a month."
Sometimes it seems that way. "It's a dangerous world out there. Women have to be prepared. These keys only have to save your life once to be worth the trouble."
Brita turned to Logan. "Dad, can I get one of these charms? Please?"
Alisha took the charm from Brita and handed it back to me. "If we show up with gold charm bracelets, Mom will just pawn th—" She cut off abruptly and looked around guiltily.
"Maybe if they were silver?" asked Brita. Both Logan and I shuddered at the thought.
"Silver's not good; it tarnishes too quickly. How about white gold or platinum? That will look like cheap silver or pewter, but still be tarnish-proof."
"Yes! That sounds good."
"Who makes these things?" asked Logan.
"Mason gave me mine. I'm sure he can get a couple more for your girls."
Logan was shaking his head. "I put up with your boyfriend because you're the boss. But I don't like the guy. I'm not about to ask him for a favor. It's like making a deal with the devil."
The girls looked disappointed. They shared a look, sister to sister, then said in unison, "Please, Daddy."
Logan shook his head stubbornly.
We got help from an unexpected quarter. Naomi leaned over and touched Logan's arm. "Logan-san, think of how much one of Mason's good luck charms would mean to your girls. Even if they never need to use the keys, they will have something to remember you by. I know you're not superstitious, but Mason's charms seem to bring good fortune to anyone who wears them."
Logan shuddered at the thought of accepting a magical gift for his girls. His girls—normal humans without the strengths and protections any of us had. Through our pack link I could feel his indecision turn toward protecting the girls.
"Okay," he grumbled. Then he muttered, "Damn women, always ganging up on a man."
Alisha and Brita grinned in triumph.
"But only if Mason can get it done. The last time I saw him, he looked like death warmed over."
8
It was after five p.m. when we arrived at the MGM Grand. Naomi and Kuga took the girls up to their room to freshen up and change into their new outfits for our night out.
Logan came with me to the room I shared with Mason.
Mason's transformation was remarkable. This morning, he had looked like that old wizard from the Lord of the Rings movie, but now he looked like his old self. Blond hair drooping down over those remarkable blue eyes, slim figure moving with perfect balance, and smooth skin with no liver spots. My man was back.
I hugged him, eliciting a small "oof." Okay, maybe he wasn't back to one hundred percent yet.
"I might need another day at Hoover Dam."
"So you can't do any tricks?" asked Logan.
Mason stepped back from my hug, freeing his arms and fingers. The smell of ozone started. "You thinking of a challenge?"
"No, asshole, I told you I wouldn't beat you until after the cubs are weaned." Then with breathtaking bluntness, Logan said, "I need a favor. A magical favor."
The ozone smell faded and the tingle of magic diminished. "A magical favor? For a werewolf? Are you changing your opinion about magicians?"
"No! I still hate magicians. But you attract the wrong kind of trouble while you're with my alpha. Trouble that leaks over to the entire pack. My kids are human. They need something to help them avoid it."
"What kind of magical favor? You know my amulets are very expensive."
"How hard can it be? Just whip up a couple of good luck charms for my kids to keep your kind of trouble away from them."
"'How hard can it be?' Why don't you run off to Picasso and ask him for a sketch? It's not how hard it would be for me, it's how much they're worth to you."
Logan gritted his teeth. "I'll pay whatever you want."
Mason's eyes lit up. "Just say you owe me one—no, two favors, to be redeemed at a later date."
"Deal."
"Wow, that was quick. I expected you to bargain harder. Now, what do you want?"
Logan's brow furrowed. "You know, one of those charms like you made for Luna. The one with the handcuff key inside."
"Oh, that. That was very hard to make, you made a good bargain. I'll need a lock of hair from each child, a lock of your hair, about four ounces of gold, and a few hours."
Logan shuddered at the thought of giving a lock of werewolf hair to Mason. I had warned him about what magicians could do with one. He shot me a look of betrayal.
I nodded encouragement and said, "Mason, please tell Logan that you won't use his lock of hair in any spell-work against him."
"I promise."
Logan reached up to his crown and ripped out a tuft of hair.
Mason had his back to us, laying out a sheet of vellum on the desk. Logan tossed the hair on the desk.
"So, what are the parameters of this charm?" asked Mason.
"Mason," I interrupted, "Logan doesn't know enough about magic to know what's possible. I think he wants the charms with the key inside with some protections against misfortune."
"Ahh. A positive-random-outcome charm."
"Yes, a good-luck charm. Something to help protect Logan's children when he's not around. And the handcuff key."
Mason was musing, one finger to his lips as he thought about the project. He blinked and said, "You know it's not a handcuff key, right?"
"Of course it is. I used it to unlock Logan's handcuffs today."
"No. Well, it's not just a handcuff key. That key will unlock nearly any human-built lock." He looked askance at Logan. "That's why I don't like to leave them lying around. An unscrupulous person could commit a lot of crimes with that universal key."
"I don't need a magic key to break down do
ors or destroy locks."
"Can they be keyed to the individual so they don’t work for anyone else?" I asked. If no one but the girls could use the keys, that would allay some of Mason's doubts. And the thought of Stefania getting her hands on a master key to everything was sobering.
"I can do that."
Logan said, "I'll get the gold you need. I have some in my room."
I called Kuga, who was still with the girls. "Kuga, please ask the girls for a lock of hair from each. Tell them Logan wants to keep it in a locket to remember them by."
Logan and Kuga arrived back in the room at the same time. Logan tossed two Credit Suisse 100-gram gold bars on the desk. He looked at the diagrams and glyphs that Mason had inscribed on the vellum sheet and growled.
"Logan, I’m going to be throwing a lot of magic around. If you can't control yourself, leave."
"I'll be in the bar."
Mason continued with his work, muttering spells and gathering magic.
"I'll get back to Naomi and the girls," said Kuga. She followed Logan out of the room.
"You're not throwing that much magic around," I said.
"No. But I thought it might disturb Logan. Also, I can't teach you while he's watching."
The hairs from each of the girls and Logan were twining and twisting on the vellum sheet in front of Mason like tiny snakes. Logan's hairs divided into two sections and squirmed their way over to mix with the hairs from the girls. The hairs wrapped around each other, first making a simple braid, then a more complicated knotwork that made my eyes water to look at.
Mason looked up from his work and said, "Do you know the girls are not related to him?"
"Yes, I know. Logan's human side doesn't, but his wolf side does. His wolf side hates the ex and resents the children."
"Is that why he doesn't want to visit them unless you're there?"
"Yes. I keep his wolf side in check."
As his student, it was frustrating to watch Mason work his spells. Sure, I could understand almost every step, and maybe I could reproduce each one. But I couldn’t follow the way he layered them all together, creating something much more powerful than just the sum of each individual spell.
Lycan Legacy - 4 - 5 - 6: Princess - Progeny - Paladin: Book 4 - 5 - 6 in the Lycan Legacy Series Page 6