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

by Veronica Singer

  We both stopped speaking and simultaneously turned our heads toward the entrance to the road that led to the mine.

  "Heavy vehicles, maybe a Humvee. And two SUVs."

  I sniffed. "They're carrying weapons." Guns didn't worry me; I had a spell that turned primer inert. But I hesitated to use the spell in front of Logan or the other werewolves. Letting out the secret of my magical abilities could turn them against me.

  "So?" sniffed Logan. He wasn't bulletproof, but he acted that way. "Want me to take care of them? Shaft Four is deep enough."

  "Let's try diplomacy first," I said. "They might have a good reason to show up with a squad of armed men."

  "Okay, alpha." Logan tilted his head down again, content to let me handle the humans.

  I unplugged the ethernet cable, shut down the laptop, bundled the power supply, and put it in my invisible handbag. After a moment's hesitation, I lifted the five-pound gold nugget I used as a paperweight and rolled up the maps, then stuffed everything away inside the invisible bag. It only added a few pounds to my load, negligible for a werewolf’s strength.

  Mason's research was more valuable than anything else in this trailer.

  I picked up the landline telephone on my desk to call Mason so I could let him know there was trouble at our mine. That line was dead, too. The bastards had cut our internet and telephone service before heading in. I could send out a magical SOS to him, but that might cause mass casualties. Mason had a tendency to come in hot when he thought I or the children might be in danger.

  I reached across the desk and stroked the eight-inch pure iron railroad spike that I kept as a good-luck charm. It was old, forged before modern manufacturing techniques, and I had sharpened it to a needle point.

  Ever since fairy assassins had started stalking Mason and me on this side of the veil, keeping cold iron around was a comfort. This spike was one of a pair. Its mate had been used to deliver a message to the Guildmaster of the Assassin’s Guild.

  Damn, I had to pee again. Did I have enough time to use the restroom before they showed up? The thump of feet in the hallway cut off the thought.

  They burst through the door in a tumble of testosterone, cordite, and adrenaline-scented excitement. Dressed in SWAT gear, bullet-proof armor, and black tactical clothing, with Plexiglas face-shields pulled down. Balaclavas hid their faces—useless against werewolves. One sniff and I could track them down anywhere in the world.

  "On the floor, right now!" shouted the leader. He was huge, at least six-four, and heavily muscled.

  I stood slowly, giving them ample time to take in my over-sized pregnant belly. "Sorry, Sarge," I said. "It's hard to get up from the floor if I get down."

  Even the craziest cop would hesitate to shoot a pregnant woman. The sergeant held up a hand, and the rest of his team halted. I thought the situation would calm. Nope, they turned their attention to Logan.

  "You!" He pointed his weapon at Logan. "Get on the ground now!"

  Logan slowly tilted his head until his eyes were visible. The look in his eyes scared even me, and I was his alpha.

  "And if I don't?" asked Logan in an eerily calm voice. His snaggletoothed grin was disconcerting. The scent of the SWAT team’s fear spiked.

  Damn, I wish I could stare down a SWAT team like that. Tension ratcheted up, and I stepped in to stop a massacre.

  I put myself in front of Logan, holding both hands up at chest level, palms facing the sergeant. His scent was familiar. Well, it's a small world.

  "I'm sure we can work this out. There's no need to throw people around."

  I turned my head and said to Logan, "Don't hurt them. I know the sergeant."

  "You do?" said both Logan and the sergeant at the same moment.

  I turned back to the SWAT commander. "You're Big Mac MacDonald. We went to school together." I scrambled to remember his real first name. "How have you been, Brian? I'm Luna from the cheerleading squad."

  It relieved me to see him lower his weapon. "Luna White? Is that you?"

  The rest of his squad relaxed, ignoring the still-upright Logan. In seconds, all weapons were pointed safely at the ground.

  "Wait," said Brian, "how did you recognize me?" He pointed at his covered face.

  "Oh, Brian," I said in a sultry voice, "I'd recognize you anywhere. You can't hide that body." I don't enjoy lying, but if it would prevent a disaster, I was happy to let Brian think he was my "one that got away."

  There were some snorts of suppressed laughter from his teammates. The bit of skin I could see around Brian's eyes reddened.

  Time to redirect. I rubbed my belly and smiled, letting him know I was off the market. "It's Luna Carter now. I have a husband and a family on the way."

  "Congratulations."

  I stepped back behind my desk, but remained standing. "So, Brian, why are you here? You didn't have to bring a SWAT team to arrest me. The phone would have been fine."

  "We're under orders from the governor. To deliver a court order and escort you and your workers from the mine."

  "A court order?"

  Brian handed me an official-looking document. I scanned the copy, understanding perhaps one word in three. One phrase stuck out.

  "What the hell is eminent domain?"

  Before he could answer, a tiny bantam rooster of a man shoved Brian aside. His skinny frame reached five-five, counting his lifts. Red-faced and angry, he jumped to the other side of my desk and stuck a tiny forefinger in my face. I resisted the urge to bite it off.

  "Sergeant, why isn't this bitch in handcuffs?"

  "She's not dangerous," said Brian. "No need to handcuff a pregnant woman."

  "Yeah, sarge," said Logan. "You should put her in cuffs and leg-irons. Can't you tell he's afraid of any girl who can fight back?" Rooster-man's face got even redder, and he turned to stare at Logan.

  Logan was only two inches taller than Rooster, but he outweighed him by more than fifty pounds of muscle. Rooster wilted under Logan's level gaze.

  He sniffed as if Logan had backed down, then turned to me. I gave him my bland smile, the one I used on solicitors.

  A woman stepped up behind Rooster. Black pencil skirt, pink pastel blouse, and a black jacket. She was tiny, and the flats she wore showed that one of her primary qualifications for her job was not overshadowing her boss. She had a briefcase in her hands, held protectively in front of herself.

  Rooster tugged on his lapels and intoned, "Eminent domain is when the government takes over badly-managed land for the benefit of the public."

  "Badly-managed land?"

  "This damned mine! We can bring in professionals and double or triple the output. Just because you stumbled on a vein of rare earth minerals doesn't mean we can stand by and let an unqualified housewife run this mine."

  "Stumbled? Unqualified?" I growled. This idiot was getting on my nerves. "My company has invested millions in this mine. Now you want to kick us off our land and take it for some damned politician to squander?"

  Another sniff. "You'll be fairly compensated for your investment. Not millions. It was your decision to waste that money on improvements. You'll get the standard price for these fifty acres of raw land."

  He slapped his hand down on the notice on my desk. "Now get your ass off of my land or get arrested."

  I was shaking my head in frustration and anger. Then Rooster made a fatal mistake.

  "Sergeant," he ordered as he pushed on my belly, "drag this pregnant bitch off my land."

  Logan growled and prepared to leap. Too slow. I grabbed Rooster's offending hand and slapped it down on top of the document. Then I grabbed the railroad spike and slammed the needle-sharp point down on his hand. The spike went through his hand, the document, and embedded itself two inches deep into the oak top of the desk. His hand looked like a macabre butterfly pinned to the desk. The scent of blood flooded the room.

  Shock and pain took his voice away. He tugged futilely, unable to free his hand. He finally gasped, "Shoot her! She attacked me! Assault
on a government official!"

  "Well…" said Brian slowly, "it looks to me as if you hit her first. Then she poked you with that pencil."

  "Pencil?" Rooster tugged at the spike with his free hand, unable to budge the steel. "This isn't a pencil, it's a goddam railroad spike."

  Brian blinked twice, then repeated, "She poked you with a pencil after you hit her. It could have been worse." Like most humans, he and his crew rearranged their memories to avoid confronting the impossible—like a woman strong enough to drive a spike as if she had hit it with a sledgehammer. Very few humans could acknowledge the supernatural.

  He turned to me and added, "Do you wish to press charges against your assailant?"

  "Would that stop this eviction?"

  Brian shook his head. "No. We're under orders from the governor. You need a lawyer." He hesitated a beat. "A really good lawyer. One who isn't afraid to take on the governor."

  An image flashed through my mind. An image of my pack ravaging these invaders: ignoring bullets, tasers, and gas to attack and rip these humans to shreds. I pushed the thought away; I had a responsibility to the human members of my crew. They weren't pack, just poor bastards trying to make a living. Hell, even Brian wasn't evil, just another soldier following orders.

  Sometimes a wolf has to retreat and attack her enemy from a different angle. "Okay, just let me gather my stuff."

  Rooster found his voice again. "No! Everything must stay here. We also have jurisdiction over any records, maps, or equipment on this land." I was suddenly glad I had stuffed the most important items into my invisible bag.

  I reached over and twisted the iron spike slightly, eliciting a gasp and a fresh rivulet of blood. I left my hand on the spike as a warning not to interrupt. "Are you going to take my crew as slaves, too?"

  Rooster's assistant spoke up. "Of course not. They’re just workers, victims of poor management. However, we will offer them the opportunity to continue under the new management." She pulled some papers from her briefcase and rifled through them. "Although not at the wages you were paying. Considering the employment situation here in Nevada, those wages are unjustified."

  Rooster opened his mouth to bark more orders, but shut up when I jiggled the spike. He was learning.

  Think of the future; attack from a different angle.

  I took a deep breath. "Logan, call the workers in. I'll make an announcement."

  I pulled a handkerchief from my purse, jerked the spike from Rooster's hand and wrapped his wound while all the humans averted their gazes. He would need surgery to keep from losing his hand. I briefly wondered how he would rearrange his memories to explain the wound. A fall onto a rock shard?

  I didn't give a shit. I wrapped the spike in another handkerchief and put it in my purse.

  5

  Ten minutes later, after I had a chance to pee, we were outside under the burning sun. The humans, who made up most of the crew, showed nervousness at the sight of the SWAT team. My pack, seeing their alpha was unworried, had no such qualms. They all waited patiently near the back of the crowd of one hundred.

  Rooster had a megaphone. Of course he had a megaphone. He waved at the crowd and started speaking. "This mine is now under new, competent management."

  Competent? I should have left him spiked to the desk. I checked the wind and the position of my pack members. It should be safe to use a tiny amount of magic. A wisp of magic and a word of power formed a bubble of air in front of Rooster's megaphone. I tweaked the spell to raise the frequency of all sounds that came from the megaphone into a higher octave.

  "As the new manager," he squeaked in a voice like Mickey Mouse breathing helium, "I will be a tough but fair—" He halted as he heard himself. Titters broke out in the crowd. Rooster's face turned redder than before.

  I keyed my favorite spell, an invisible megaphone that let me shout louder than thunder, and overrode his announcement.

  I grinned and said, "Good news, everyone! Because of a bureaucratic screwup, we will shut down for a short time."

  I made a disgusted face at the ‘bureaucratic screwup’ in the form of Rooster, then smiled my warmest smile at the crowd. "Every one of you is a valuable part of the Moonrise family. So we will continue every worker at full pay and benefits until I straighten this out and we can get back to work." I pointed at Rooster, who was furiously clicking the button on his megaphone, and continued. "No need to look for a new 'tough but fair' boss."

  They rewarded me with clapping and shouts. "Now you can all head home and take a vacation. Let your families know the good news. Moonrise Mining has your back and we will take care of you."

  Rooster and his assistant watched in horror as "their" workers streamed toward the parking lot, laughing and shouting.

  I canceled all spells as my pack approached.

  Rooster sputtered, "You can't do that! We'll need those workers."

  Backed by my pack, I gave him my number-two smile, the one with teeth. "Well, if you need them so badly, I'm sure Moonrise Mining can subcontract some of our highly trained experts to your endeavor." I lowered my voice to a whisper and added, "However, expertise like ours does not come cheaply."

  "But I doubt you can afford to keep paying those men for not working," interjected the assistant. "Even two weeks at full pay will deplete your bank accounts." She flashed a printout of Moonrise Mining's latest bank statement, both to prove her point and to show they had access to sensitive information.

  "Oh, that's so cute," I said as if praising a kindergartner's drawing. "You have Moonrise Mining's banking info. Fortunately for us, our parent company, Moonrise Limited, has deep pockets. Very deep pockets."

  "Who the hell is Moonrise Limited?" she muttered as she scrambled through her printouts.

  I raised my hand. "That would be me and my husband. The similar names didn't tip you off? As a privately held company, you shouldn't have access to our accounts. But if you do, you'll see that we have no problem with maintaining our workers."

  Rooster waved away my comments. "Then we'll just hire new personnel. Workers are a dime a dozen."

  Behind me, Christopher drawled, "Just tell them to watch out for the explosives we left behind."

  At my look, Christopher continued, "We were getting ready for a blast when we got called away." He looked down and shook his head. "We had to leave a lot of explosives behind. I wouldn't want to wander around down in the mine without knowing exactly where those charges were placed."

  "I order you to go back and pull them out!" shouted Rooster.

  "Sorry," said Christopher, "I don't work here anymore." He pointed a thumb at me. "I work for Luna. She's the only person in the world I would go back down for."

  I rubbed Christopher's shoulder and beamed. "Isn't it nice to have people you can depend on?" I wrinkled my nose and added, "Maybe you can send your assistant down to check on the explosives? She seems to be good at ferreting out things."

  Her instant head-shake and scent of fear showed what she thought of that idea.

  "Not eager to go poking around in a mine? Aren't assistants 'a dime a dozen' too?" I asked. "Then what makes you think it'll be easy to replace my team?"

  She was smarter, or just less stubborn, than Rooster. "Perhaps we could come to some agreement on a subcontractor arrangement—"

  "Absolutely not!" said Rooster. "We're not here to make deals with these people."

  "You heard the boss," I said.

  I waved at my pack to get them headed out. "We'll see you guys at the compound. Set up for a barbecue for everyone. Get a few kegs of beer." I looked at Rooster. "Since nobody needs to work tomorrow, the team can cut loose tonight."

  In seconds, only Logan, Rooster, his assistant, and I were standing there.

  Rooster swallowed and attempted another threat. "Remove those explosives. Leaving those behind will leave your company liable for any injuries or accidents."

  I pulled the blood-soaked spindled writ from my purse. "I'm not a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure you taking
control 'of all property, including equipment, land, and chattels' means that's your problem, not mine."

  "You can't leave a hazard like that behind."

  "Tell you what, I'll take you down and point out where the explosives are."

  "You're insane! I will not follow you down into that mine."

  "You're afraid?" I asked, then added wistfully, "I like it down there. It's so quiet. There's a peace you won't find this side of the grave."

  I stepped forward, only to be blocked by Rooster. I stepped as close as my belly would allow and gave an exaggerated head tilt to look down on his sweating face. Even without heels, I topped him by over six inches. "You need to move now, or I'll call those cops back and press charges."

  A subsonic growl from Logan was enough. Rooster jumped back as if he’d been hit by a taser.

  "This isn't over," he muttered.

  I addressed his assistant. "No, it isn't. In a month, you'll be begging me to come back." I tilted my head at Rooster. "But as long as this idiot is around, we will never come back."

  She compressed her lips in anger, then gave the slightest nod. I was sure my message would reach the governor.

  As we neared the parking lot, I told Logan, "Please wait by the car. I need to talk with the cops."

  "Are you sure? I'd be glad to work them over." Logan and cops didn't mix.

  "They were assholes, but they didn't act as badly as they could have. I’ll try diplomacy."

  "I'd rather kick their asses." Logan regarded the group with a sneer of disgust on his face. The SWAT team unconsciously stroked their weapons at Logan's stare.

  "If it comes to that, I'll call you over."

  "Yes, alpha," he said.

  There was a general lowering of tension as Logan left. I addressed the sergeant. "Brian, could I have a word, please?"

  "Is everyone cleared out?"

  "Yes, all of my team are gone. The only people left are Rooster and his assistant."

  "Rooster? Who's that?"

  "Short-stuff, the asshole, whatever his name is." I tilted my head to show I wanted to speak separately from his team. There were some quiet comments as we walked away.