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

by Veronica Singer

"Anyway," said Mike, "to get back to the point. I saw how the men who underwent the treatment changed. The aura around their heads was distorted, and darker. I decided it wasn't for me."

  Mike looked at his empty wine glass, then looked at me with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask if he could have another drink.

  "You should be okay, Mike," I said. "Your concussion is gone and you're recovering."

  Mike poured another glass of the red wine and took a sip. A grateful smile crossed his lips, and he continued.

  "Where was I?" he said. "So they sent me as part of the guard force on this remote Pacific island. We only had three prisoners; they were considered extremely dangerous. But they were all confined in the same cell block.

  "It took about two weeks for my in-processing. Lots of training on how to ignore mind games from the prisoners; special training on using tranquilizer darts on the prisoners; endless drills on using flash-bangs and narcotic gas to immobilize the prisoners. Basically, the tactics used for a riot, but directed at a single prisoner. I was the FNG, so I got the crappy jobs," said Mike.

  "What's an FNG?" I asked. Damn military and their acronyms.

  "Friggin' New Guy," said Logan.

  I nodded and Mike continued with his story. "The FNG has to deliver meals to the prisoners. I picked up the meals—some kind of crappy vegetarian mush—and took them down to the inner cell. The doors were strange, like a bank vault, but with multiple layers of metals. From the side, the door looks like a sandwich."

  "Silver, copper, and iron," I said, "with mesh around the doors to make the conductors contagious. They called it a Faraday cage."

  "Yes," said Mike, "like the rooms we use for secure facilities. But this was bigger, much bigger. It was the largest one I’d ever seen—until I saw Luna's prison."

  Mike took another sip of wine while he gathered his thoughts with his eyes unfocused.

  "I thought the prisoners would be people from the terrorist watch list. Instead, there was a pudgy guy with a scruffy beard; a tall, skinny African American man; and the guy I had helped to break his girlfriend out of prison."

  "So you helped the powerful magician escape?" snorted Logan.

  "Oh, no," said Mike. "It was him who helped me escape."

  Logan grunted, disappointed that his jibe didn't work. Mike took that as a cue to continue his story.

  "I slid the trays through the slot in the cell. Mason was… mmm, serene, while the other two looked terrified. Their eyes were darting around like paranoids. They grabbed their trays and raced over to the corners and squatted with their backs to the wall. They watched Mason like whipped dogs with their tails between their legs.

  "Mason did something and suddenly I couldn't hear anything. The whine of the air-conditioner, the slurping sounds of the other prisoners, almost every noise blocked out. I started to tell Mason that I couldn't help him, but he laughed and told me he didn't need any help to get out."

  "Why were you still there if you could get out anytime?" said Logan with a snarl. "You could have helped Luna out much earlier."

  Ignoring Logan's anger, Mason replied, "I didn't say I could have escaped 'anytime.' It took a while to reach that point. It's called 'the Prisoner’s Dilemma.' Pit the prisoners against each other to keep them in check. When I first arrived, it appeared we were matched in power levels. That meant that the staff believed that no one of us could take out the other two and escape.

  "They were wrong. I could take out the other two, but it took time. They were some of the strongest magicians on Earth. But they were nowhere near as strong as me."

  "Wait," I said, holding up a hand. I took a sip of my Sprite and continued. "I know you're strong, but you told me you knew of others much stronger than you."

  Logan snorted and said, "I knew he wasn't all that great."

  "I said they were the strongest magicians 'on Earth,'" said Mason. "Any human magician stronger than me isn't here."

  Logan laughed. "It's funny you magicians can't even stand each other. Put you assholes in a cage and you can't help but fight."

  Mason nodded and said, "It's true. We don't get along. Maybe we should act more like werewolves and fight to see who's in charge."

  "Yeah, that would be better," said Logan.

  "Except for the fact that when magicians fight for dominance, a lot of innocent bystanders can end up getting killed," I said. "When Mason and I fought Raymond and his pet magician, dozens of cars were destroyed, property damaged, and emergency services were called. It was a miracle that we didn’t kill anyone."

  "Except for the other magician," said Mason.

  "I'm thinking letting Raymond live might have been a mistake," I said.

  "Collateral damage is always a problem when magicians don't get along," said Mason.

  Logan smacked his palm against the table. "See? Damn magicians can't even get along with each other. No wonder nobody likes them."

  I held up my hand and Logan stopped talking. "Let's get back to Mike's story. I want to know what happened before Mike showed up in Alaska."

  "Let's see," said Mike. "I was feeding the prisoners, Mason was serene. The other two magicians looked like they were going insane, like they hadn't slept in weeks."

  "They hadn't slept," said Mason. "Control of magic requires a calm mind, a centered soul. Lack of sleep interferes with this. Putting three magicians together means anyone caught sleeping will be attacked and their energy consumed. I made sure they couldn’t sleep."

  "But you hadn't slept either," I said.

  "Sure, I had. Plenty of sleep."

  "How?" Despite my insistence on Mike finishing his story, I had to follow this tangent. Mason had always slept normal hours when he was with me.

  "Magicians of high skill can, mm—how can I say this?" His expression was the one he used when trying to explain advanced concepts. "Sleep between the ticks of the clock."

  "'Sleep between the ticks of the clock,'" I snorted. "Is that like the joke about the musician playing between the keys of a piano?"

  Then the translation from English to Fae kicked in and I understood what he meant. Sleeping between the ticks of the clock was a Fae technique, something to do with their mastery of time—a technique I was still far from understanding. The Fae words for 'uptime' and 'downtime' suddenly made more sense.

  "Yes," said Mason. "I was well-rested, but the others couldn't handle the pressure. By the time they decided to work together to kill me, it was much too late." Mason smiled at the memory, like I would smile at the play attacks of a cub.

  Logan was tapping his finger against his empty wineglass, bored with this talk of magic. I grabbed the bottle and refilled his and Mike's glasses. I allowed myself one long sniff of the delicious red wine, then regretfully put the bottle down.

  I nodded at Mike and he continued. "I spoke with Mason. We talked about our history. It was like he was sizing me up, like he was verifying whether I had changed in the last two years.

  "Finally, he said, 'Mike, you've been a great help to me and Luna. You need to leave this island as soon as possible. You saved our lives; now I want to save yours.'

  "The intensity of his eyes and the conviction in his voice convinced me. I checked with our personnel department to see if a swap was available."

  Mike laughed, then continued, "Strangely enough, volunteers to swap from Alaska to a tropical paradise numbered in the dozens. In less than a week, they transferred me to the Alaska prison.

  "There I met Luna again, had our prison breakout, and made our way to that Alaskan town where we met up with Mason and the rest of you.

  "The Navy was amazed when I showed up in California as the only survivor of the bombing of that Alaskan base. I told them I had been on secret orders and couldn't discuss details of my mission. Since there were no other survivors, they had to believe me. I thought I was in the clear, and accepted an assignment to Nellis Air Force Base here in Las Vegas.

  "Then the Roid Rangers showed up. They suckered me into a meeting, and the next
thing I knew, I was in a coma."

  "That's quite a sea-story, sailor," said Logan, but he had a look of admiration on his face.

  "'The only difference between a sea-story and a fairy tale,'" said Mike in his ‘quoting an old saying’ voice.

  Logan laughed and finished his wine. I repressed the urge to ask for an explanation of their inside jokes. Men like to play games.

  Logan took a gulp of his wine, eyed Mike, and said, "You look much better. I didn't think you'd make it. And I would have bet that even if you’d survived, you'd never walk straight again."

  Logan ignored my glare. He would never learn to control his mouth.

  Mike sipped his wine, nodded to Mason, and said, "I had a great healer."

  "Speaking of that," said Logan as he turned to Mason, "I have an idea on how you could turn that healing talent into a lot of cash."

  Mason shook his head, but I pricked up my ears. "What's your idea, Logan?"

  "Well," he said, "I know a lot of professional athletes. The poor guys—they have damaged knees, ankles, shoulders, hips…" Logan leaned forward as he warmed up to the idea. "These are guys who love the game and would pay a considerable amount to get back into shape."

  Mason was shaking his head, but I had to ask. "How much is 'a considerable amount?'"

  "Millions," said Logan.

  Mason finally realized that I was interested in another revenue source. Damn magician. Just because he had no money worries didn't mean I couldn't use another income stream. What if the price of gold dropped?

  "How would that be split?" asked Mason.

  "Fifty-fifty."

  "No, thanks," said Mason. "First, I would need Luna's help."

  "She can't help you with your magic crap," said Logan, a bit too quickly.

  "While she isn't gifted with magical talents like mine," said Mason, "she has that moonstone amulet that I would need to power a healing. So, without Luna, it's no deal."

  I parsed that sentence. Mason had said I didn't have magical talents like his, without saying whether I had talents of a different type.

  "Just whip up another of those moon rocks," said Logan.

  "If magic was that easy," said Mason, "everyone would do it. No, crafting another 'moon rock' won't be possible for a long time. Add in the blessing of a moon goddess that Luna obtained, and I can safely say that this 'moon rock' can't be duplicated."

  "Okay," said Logan. "We'll cut Luna in—" At my growl, he changed that to, "It's only fair that the alpha gets a share of our project. How about sixty-forty? You and Luna would get twenty percent each." Logan smiled, as if offering a great deal.

  "I don't really need you, do I?" asked Mason. "I can always call the injured players up myself. How about a ten percent finders' fee for you?"

  "Done," said Logan quickly.

  Mason frowned, then shook his head. "I was sure you'd turn that deal down fast." He took a sip of his wine. "What kind of scheme are you concocting?"

  Logan widened his eyes to look innocent. "Who, me? I just want to see some great players make a comeback. You know, for the love of the game."

  Then it hit me. "You're going to tell them to keep their recovery secret, and bet on their next games, aren't you?"

  Logan finished his wine and waved to the waiter for another bottle. "Well, alpha, the thought had crossed my mind."

  "I thought you hated dealing with magic," said Mason.

  "I hate banks, but I still use them," said Logan.

  Mason and I shared a look. Then Mason said, "I'll honor the deal. But we won't be able to act on it until after our adventure in the Fae lands is over and the babies are born."

  "Why?"

  "I can't risk draining the moonstone," said Mason. "Luna might need it during our trip."

  "I understand. We can't risk Luna or the cubs."

  19

  I was expecting the trip through the portal to the Fae realm to be like Mason's last trip. But instead of departing from a Tokyo train station on a specially equipped bullet train, we set out from the hotel in a pair of four-wheel-drive SUVs.

  Logan loaded our suitcases, including the ones that held our gold and unused metals. Naomi and Kuga loaded our travel packs into the second SUV, assisted by Mike. Mike had recovered in the last few days, but still looked like he had been in a car wreck.

  Logan would drive our SUV with Mike driving the following vehicle. Mason was too easily distracted, and I still hadn't learned to drive.

  We settled into our seats: Logan driving, me on the passenger side, as befitted an alpha, and Mason in the rear seat. To my surprise, Mason unfolded an old-style printed map and started giving Logan directions.

  "Can't we use the built-in GPS to find the portal?"

  "Where we're going, the GPS won’t work."

  "I know it won't work once we go through the portal, but getting there should be no problem."

  "Even on this side of the portal, they block GPS signals."

  "Who can block GPS?"

  "The government,” said Logan. He looked at Mason in the mirror. "Are we going to break into some top-secret government site?"

  "Break in? No. But it is a place that the government would like to keep people away from."

  "Some old mines?" I guessed.

  "Atom bomb test sites. The release of nuclear energy weakens the veil between our worlds, just like in Japan."

  "That can't be right. When you left Tokyo, you went north. We didn't drop any bombs north of Tokyo."

  "Your history books didn't tell you about any bombs dropped further north. For various reasons, they kept the northern drop secret, and exposed only the Hiroshima and Nagasaki events."

  "Logan, did you know about any of this? The more we learn, the more we find out our history books are garbage."

  "It's the mushroom theory of management applied to entire populations, Luna."

  I had a sudden thought. "Wait! Will this place still be radioactive? Werewolves can stand a lot of radiation, but it might affect the cubs."

  Mason placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "I'll block any radiation. You'll be perfectly safe." Then, after a long pause, "And if Logan goes bald, so much the better."

  "Screw you, magician. I've survived worse."

  It took us about two hours to arrive, with the last half hour off-road. We finally arrived at an unmarked spot in the desert far from the sights of Las Vegas.

  The sun was high, and the temperature approached one hundred degrees. We were all wearing hiking gear and hats. I started sweating immediately, but Naomi and Mason appeared cool and collected.

  "Logan, you need to put the two blue suitcases in your SUV," said Mason. "Mike can dump the others anywhere back in Las Vegas."

  Logan looked at me, waiting for my nod before transferring the bags. My pack wouldn't take orders from Mason, except in an emergency.

  "Why two bags?" I asked in Fae.

  "Those are the two suitcases of gold coins and cash that you wanted Logan to hide for you."

  "Gold coins, plus cash? There was only one suitcase of coins, the ones I made."

  "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Last night I went to the witches’ vault and took all of their Krugerrands and loose cash. Well, not all the cash—I stuck to only the big bills."

  My eyes widened. "How much did you steal?"

  He gave me a strange look. "I didn't steal. It was a just recompense for their attempted execution. As for how much, I guess about two hundred pounds in gold coins and a million or two in bills."

  "Won't they know it was you?"

  "Of course. I left a note. It said, 'Next time I'll bankrupt you.'"

  I shook my head. I had thought the heist was impossible, even with the help of Logan. But Mason had pulled it off last night in the time it took him to—I’d thought—go to the bathroom.

  "You didn't need to do that," I said.

  "I want to leave something for the cubs, too. It wouldn't be fair for momma to pay all the bills."

  Logan had finished and joined us
while we were talking. He stood strangely close, almost touching me.

  "What's wrong, Logan?" I asked in English.

  "Alpha, I don't like this place. There's something wrong with the moon here."

  "Yes," said Mason. "This close to the portal, the effect of the moon and sun are inconstant. We're halfway between worlds already. That gives me an idea."

  Instead of elaborating, he stared into space and started mumbling under his breath. Loath to interrupt him when he was working, I turned my attention to Logan.

  Logan's nervousness transmitted through our pack link, setting my teeth on edge. I could give him some moonlight from my amulet, but I might need all the moon energy later. He would calm down once he left the area.

  I hugged Logan goodbye. He calmed at the touch of his alpha. When we broke from our hug, he stepped back and got into the SUV.

  Mike was standing by the other SUV, staring blankly out at the horizon. Mason stepped up beside me, apparently finished with his project.

  "It looks like he's confused. Damn, he's still having memory problems."

  "Easily solved," said Mason. "Give me one of your gold coins. We have a unique opportunity to fuse the magic of Fae with Earthly magic."

  “They’re different?”

  “Oh, yes. Fae magic is wilder, more powerful, and harder to control than Earth magic. It has to be handled with delicacy.”

  I handed him one of my transmuted Maple Leaf coins. Here at the threshold of the Fae realm, the magic of two worlds combined. Magical energy gathered around us, called up by Mason, and Logan rolled up the window of his SUV.

  Mason clasped the coin between his two palms and magic flowed by in a spell that coalesced much too quickly for me to follow. The combination of Fae and earthly magic was interlaced in a pattern that twisted my eyes to follow.

  Naomi pretended indifference, but couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from Mason's hands.

  With a slight bow, Mason offered me the coin. "If Mike holds this coin near, he won't have any memory issues. It also has other properties.” A quick look at Naomi indicated he didn’t want to explain these “other properties” in front of her.