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

by Veronica Singer

  My conditioning, but not my wolf's. She woke from her slumber and surged to take control before I stood.

  We spun with the scroll held tightly in one hand, and slammed it into the right eye of Scarface. The bloody wooden dowel exited the rear of her skull, and the rictus of death froze her laugh in place as she died instantly.

  The wolf retreated, but stayed wary, giving control back to me. The spell broke, and I was free to act. The magician part of my brain noted the spell used and calculated a way to block it. I gave control of that to my wolf; she was much quicker to react to danger than me.

  I blinked back to reality before Scarface's body fell. I grabbed her neck in my left hand and her belt with my right. Rage and werewolf strength made her corpse seem as light as a mannequin. I hurled her at the throne while shouting, "Now you fetch, bitch!"

  Only someone with a werewolf's reflexes could have seen the shock on her face, instantly covered. She waved a hand, as if shooing away a pesky fly, and Scarface's body made a ninety-degree turn and was thrown against the wall with such force that she was nothing more than a large splash of red on the bricks. It gratified me that Perla had to control her breathing to hide the level of effort required for that trick.

  I felt the officers at my rear tense up in preparation to attack. I spun around and growled. The subsonics of an apex predator froze them in place.

  Behind me, Naomi’s calm voice stated, "Princess Perla, I will be forced to intercede if anyone attacks Princess Luna outside the bounds of a Challenge. Intercede with all the means available to me as a kitsune. Intemperance will not end well, as your royal courier discovered."

  Suddenly, Naomi was between me and the officers with her blades raised. Was it her calm demeanor that stilled them? Or that they had seen the incurable scars Naomi could inflict with her blades?

  Tension rose as I settled into a ready stance facing the fairy Insane Clone Posse. I made that ‘come and get me’ gesture made famous by Bruce Lee, and smiled with more teeth than a human mouth could hold.

  "One at a time, or all together," I said. "I'm ready."

  22

  The tension rose as the guards fingered their weapons and edged forward. Princess Perla and I locked gazes, neither willing to blink. We were ready to fight to the death, here and now, while Mason still bowed down before his mother.

  The scuff of feet to our left and right told me that the soldiers on our unguarded sides were willing to take chances. No sounds from my rear—Naomi had those guards locked down.

  The guards to Mason's right stepped forward, but with a glance from him they froze in place. Okay, maybe he was helping, in his own way.

  Perla looked away first, then covered by holding up one hand and asking, "Challenge?"

  "Yes, Perla," said Mason as he finally rose from his knees. "My mate challenges you and my sisters, challenges you as the champion to our unborn."

  A shock ran through me. Mason was addressing his mother as an equal—not as an obedient son, but as someone of equivalent rank. Most of his sisters looked shocked, a few enraged.

  Confused thoughts scrambled in my head. Mason's rise in status wasn't because of marrying me; I took my rank from him. It had to be from his position as the father of royalty.

  Princess Perla gave a wide smile that never touched her eyes. "A child? Well, why didn't you say so? Congratulations. Challenge accepted."

  She waved her hand, and the guards put away their weapons and started cleaning up the mess made by Scarface's collision with the wall.

  "Now, girls," said Princess Perla, addressing her daughters, "who shall be first to challenge this bitch?"

  The princesses exchanged looks, then did something complicated with their hands. I braced for a magical attack, but they nodded in unison and lined up in a new order, no longer following the rainbow's colors. The gestures had apparently been some kind of clone-sorting mechanism. My packmates had done something similar when it came time to do an unpleasant task.

  But the woman in red was still in the first position. She straightened up and said, "I am Ruby. You may address me as Princess Ruby. I look forward to seeing my champion best you in the arena. I think I shall have your head adorn a wall of my room."

  "Sounds good to me." I paused. "Does this castle have a guest room with seven walls? I kind of like your decorating ideas."

  Four hours later, after dispatching Ruby's champion—and a quick bath to rinse off stadium grit and mushed champion—we met back in the throne room.

  It was now evening. The light from the skylight was waning and scented candles were burning in sconces arrayed around the room. If not for the scent, I would have sworn the candles were electric. They were much brighter and produced a steadier light than an equivalent-sized candle from the human world.

  I had changed into a black silk T-shirt and a black mini-skirt, with black high-heeled boots. I had made my finger- and toenails shiny black. If they would go for all the colors of the rainbow, with dear mom as pure white, I was going for the opposite. Freshly washed and combed, my jet-black hair framed my face.

  Mason approached and kissed me. "You look amazing. No long gown for you? No rainbow bright colors?"

  I laughed and returned his hug. "Oh no. I want my legs free to kick ass, and black is to hide the stains when I gut my enemies," I said loudly enough so that everyone could hear.

  Mason stood to my right, and we faced his family. Naomi and Kuga stood behind us. The sisters were back in rainbow order, and mom was on her throne.

  I tilted my head to my left and murmured, "Ruby."

  They all wore shocked expressions as Ruby left the lineup and walked over to my side. Her expression was a mixture of fear and resignation. But she calmed as she neared. She turned toward her former family with a slight smile on her face, comforted by being near her alpha.

  "You dare to use mind-control spells on my daughter!"

  "Not really, Princess Perla. You know from personal experience that werewolves don't take well to mind-control, and we never use it. Ruby is part of my team now."

  Perla stared at her daughter, trying to read her mind. "Is this of your own free will?" Her voice was strong with the subsonics she used to control minds, sounds that no longer affected me. This spell was slightly different, a spell that imposed a command to tell only the truth.

  "Yes, Mother. The Challenge was fair." Ruby looked down at her feet, "She bested my champion in combat. Princess Luna was within her rights to accept my vow of fealty." Two perfect teardrops fell, landing and splashing on the stones at her feet. I almost felt sorry for her.

  "Can you betray her?"

  "Oh, yesss," she hissed. "Can and will. She crushed my champion Aleric using beastly strengths unknown to us. When and if honor and circumstance allow it, I will gladly slide a knife into her monster heart."

  I no longer felt sorry for her. I smiled my brightest smile and hugged her with one arm, then said, "Isn't that just lovely? We all know where we stand. We have a saying on Earth, 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'"

  Ruby looked at me with conflicting emotions, fear and pleading. "Even deceased enemies? Please don't mount Aleric's head as a trophy."

  I squeezed Ruby a bit, then let her go. "No problem, Ruby. I'll save that spot for you after you try to betray me."

  I rubbed my palms together and said, "Do we have time for another bout tonight? I still have a lot of energy."

  The sight of a werewolf eager to inflict pain and suffering sobered the mood of the remaining princesses. There was some whispered conversation. Princess Amethyst, who wore indigo as her color, was next in line. She was trying to get her sisters to re-do their sorting routine.

  All the sisters shook their heads at her suggestion. Amethyst took a deep breath as she looked over at one of her guards. It was only then that I noticed—the princesses' guards each wore a badge or lapel pin with the color of his or her patron.

  The guard she signaled was short and burly, and when he moved to step forwa
rd, his speed and grace reminded me of my former judo instructor. Sensei Jacobson had taught me a lot. He had matched my werewolf strength and speed due to extensive training. This guy must be very good to be a champion here. Hell, he might even beat me hand-to-hand. But hand-to-claw? Tooth-to-fang? I almost drooled.

  Beside me Ruby was shaking her head at her sister. Amethyst saw the anticipation on my face and frantically shook her head at her champion. He came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the crowd and waited.

  Amethyst bit her lip in indecision, then brightened. She turned to her sisters and whispered something. They came to an agreement over smiles and secret giggles.

  "We acknowledge your strength, speed, and fighting skill. This Challenge shall be a test of your skills at observation. We shall dance, and at the end of the dance you will have to decide the winner."

  Mason opened his mouth but was stilled by a look from his mother. This Challenge would involve fairy trickery.

  As soon as I nodded, music started playing, and the lights dimmed. Hidden spotlights in each color of the rainbow lit up and placed a bright spot of color on the floor. The spots almost touched and were arranged in the order of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

  Ruby left my side and joined her sisters on the rainbow chorus line. The lights drifted, and each princess followed her matching color as she moved across the floor.

  It was obviously a dance routine they had practiced from childhood, every move precise as they followed the patterns of the lights and the music.

  I was looking for the trick, and they were almost perfect in their subterfuge. Amethyst passed in front of Ruby and it seemed as if Ruby passed behind her. But it was a scam—they had switched colors using a magical spell. Ruby's ‘almost-packmate’ link betrayed her switch.

  Now that I knew what to look for, it was easy to spot the changes. The dance was intricate and long. Keeping track of everyone would be like tracking an expert three-card Monte scammer. I just waited for the dance to end; I had other ways to keep track of the Rainbow Dancers.

  The music stopped when the colored spotlights were once again lined up in rainbow order, each princess perfectly centered on ‘her’ color.

  Perla, seated on her throne and with a pure white spotlight illuminating her, said, "The Challenge is simple. Merely select the performer you feel performed the best."

  "It seems too simple. A subjective opinion to win the Challenge?"

  Perla nodded at the princess in the indigo spotlight. "Amethyst chose the Challenge." She held her breath for a beat, then added, "And I must say, she is my favorite dancer of all the girls." Another nod at the girl in indigo.

  Bitch was trying to steer me. I walked up and down the line of dancers, listening to heartbeats and inhaling deeply. Their heartbeats were strange, much faster than human. I could hear the difference in heart rate as I neared and sniffed each.

  The sisters were almost perfect copies. With a mother like this they had all been trained to express no overt emotion. Their scents were close enough to confuse my werewolf, but their auras were all slightly different.

  "This lineup reminds me of that movie, The Usual Suspects," I said. At their blank expressions, I added, "Never mind. It's an old movie on Earth."

  Two passes back and forth and I was one hundred percent certain. I stopped in front of the princess in indigo and smiled my widest human smile.

  "I agree with you, Princess Perla. I believe that Amethyst was the best dancer."

  The sly smile on Perla's face was wiped out as I took five steps to the left and stood in front of the princess in the red spotlight. I put my hand on her neck and stroked gently. "Nice camouflage, Amethyst. But I think you look much better in indigo."

  At my touch, the color changing spell broke, and we now had two indigo princesses.

  Amethyst opened her mouth, perhaps to lie, and I put my left forefinger to her lips. My right hand sprouted claws, hidden by her long hair, that could behead her in an instant. She squirmed slightly at the touch of the cold, razor-sharp claws.

  "Before you speak, know that werewolves can smell lies. With a certainty and precision much greater than your most potent spells. We kill liars."

  Her throat moved under my thumb as she gulped. Then she said, "We also avoid lies. I acknowledge your victory." She spoke in a whisper, but was heard throughout the room. Had Mason deployed an amplifier spell?

  She looked down and tears dripped on my hand. "Do I have to submit to your foot on my throat?"

  "Oh, yes. But you can dance your way over to the corner before we do that. You've been nice; I'll even take off my boot."

  After her submission, I hugged her and welcomed her to the pack. She looked over my shoulder and nodded. She was looking at her champion. He had a sour look on his face.

  "He's the best unarmed fighter in the world," said Amethyst. "He will be angry I didn't choose him for the Challenge."

  "He's the best unarmed fighter on your world," I corrected.

  "He might have won, and I would not be sworn to a werewolf."

  "No, he couldn't have beat me," I said into her ear. "At least this way, he gets to live. You made the right choice. Anyway, you'll soon have company as my fairy pack."

  Perla gave me a nasty look from her throne but couldn't deny my victory. "In commemoration of the good news, let us continue to enjoy the music and dancing."

  The illusions dropped, and the princesses were back to their original colors. The unseen band started playing again, and the princesses danced solo. One by one, courtiers and champions stepped on to the floor to request the honor of dancing with their favorite princess. With tiny smiles and subdued nods, they accepted partners. The dance was more intricate than a choreographed ballroom routine, like something I'd only seen in movies.

  Watching the routine as dance moves, it would be hard to follow. But concentrating on seeing the moves as parts of an acrobatic routine made me think I could duplicate those moves.

  "I see you're enjoying the music," said Mason. I was swaying in time to the beat, making the tiny steps and hand motions that gymnasts use to practice forms—sort of acrobatic shorthand for the full motion.

  "I'd love to dance, but this tight skirt makes some of those moves impossible."

  "Easily remedied."

  At a gesture from him, my mini-skirt and T-shirt combined and lengthened to an ankle-length curve-hugging gown. My boots shifted to glossy black, high-heeled, open-toed shoes. Mason had even embossed a tiny wolf's head in the leather of the shoes.

  "It's still too tight, I can't dance in this," I said; then I moved my right leg and noticed he had included a slit up my leg. But that joker had made the slit almost to my ribcage so that everyone could see I wasn't wearing panties. It felt like any move would make the dress fall off.

  "Mason," I said reproachfully, "I don't want to flash your family."

  "Oops," he said. "We'll save this design for when we're alone." He then gestured and murmured a spell. A tiny thread of black weaved back and forth across the slit, stopping just above my hip. My skin was still visible through the weave, but I could move without the dress pulling off.

  "I can't dance by myself—join me." Then I hesitated. "You can dance, right?" I had married this man without even knowing if he could dance. There was so much I didn't know about Mason. Well, our courtship had been unusual—more a series of jailbreaks than an engagement.

  He smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "I'm the little brother. My sisters used me as their training partner for all their dance routines. I've had lots of practice."

  Before we could join his sisters on the dance floor, a singer stepped out into a spot in front of Princess Perla. A pure white spotlight outlined her inhumanly perfect form. Her hair was the color of seaweed; her gown, which was long enough to hide her feet, appeared to be made of thousands of gold sequins that glittered and flashed as she moved, following the outrageous curves of her body.

  At the first note of her song, I knew wha
t she was: a fucking siren, the kind that had lured sailors to their deaths with haunting songs. Another of Perla's traps.

  With what I had learned about sonic mind control in that Arctic prison, and the Fae mind control technique used by Mason's mom, I found it easy to counter the effect. It didn't seem to affect Mason at all; he was humming along to the tune like the murderous enchantress was a top-forty radio station.

  But poor Kuga was not immune to the effects. Her eyes went blank and her mouth opened, drool coming from her lips. She leaned forward and took a step toward the singer.

  Naomi was quick to react. She pulled a set of earplugs from somewhere and put them in Kuga's ears. Kuga shook as if waking from a nightmare. She looked at Naomi with frightened eyes, and Naomi laid a comforting hand on her upper arm. Kuga stepped back with a contrite expression.

  Naomi crossed her arms with a sour expression. "Will you dance?"

  "Yes, the music is beautiful, and I can ignore the siren. Shouldn't I dance?"

  "Do you want to perform a dance like these fairies have never seen before?" The look on her face was pure evil mixed with that mischievous nature.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "They would consider it rude to kill the mermaid entertainer. We could liven this party up. Your dancing and my sex pheromones could turn this recital into an orgy."

  "I'm not interested in group sex."

  "It won't affect you or Mason. But it'll let these fairies know not to screw with kitsune or their friends. Are you in?"

  All the slights, insults, and challenges flashed through my mind. This was definitely not my style, but I wanted them to pay.

  "Yes. Do your worst."

  I pulled Mason out to the dance floor and we started to dance. The first few steps were clumsy. "Isn't the man supposed to lead?" he asked.

  "Sorry, I'm used to being in charge. When I learned to dance, I always had to lead because I was taller than the other girls."