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

by Veronica Singer

  "No good." I paused, then continued, "Leave the car as collateral."

  "I can't walk home!"

  "You're not leaving without paying," I countered.

  The look on her face matched the sly look of her son when he had called her in. She reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of cash. There was a strange aura around the money.

  Logan and Christopher growled and Mason snapped, "The money's cursed."

  "So what? It won't do anything to a werewolf," I said.

  "No, but it'll affect anyone you pass it to. Do you want me to remove it?"

  "No, I'm going to make her do it."

  I finally noticed Logan's daughters watching. I wondered how they, normal humans, would interpret what they saw tonight. I stepped to one side, blocking their view.

  I held out my hand and razor-sharp claws sprung out. "I heard that cutting off the hand of the witch who cursed the money will lift the curse. Is that true?"

  She shook her head violently but I continued, "Let's just try and see, okay?"

  I took a step closer to her. I wriggled my claws. The edges reflected glimmers from the streetlights. Her eyes followed my claws like a snake follows a fakir's flute.

  She pursed her lips as if to spit again, and my claw was at her throat. "Don't you dare spit again or I'll rip your throat out." The scent of her fear almost made me do it.

  Like a spiteful child forced to swallow bubblegum, she swallowed with an effort. For a moment, I wondered if the spit would burn out her stomach like it had burned the sidewalk, then decided I didn't care.

  She mumbled a chant in Russian, and the sickly glow around the money faded away. She shoved the money in my direction, and retreated to her car before I could count it.

  "Is the money safe now?" I asked Mason.

  "It's clean."

  I smiled my brightest smile for Logan's daughters and said, "Well, let's go enjoy our barbecue while these workers finish repairing the roof."

  I left two of my pack standing guard on the workers, with a promise of a relief team in two hours so they could also enjoy the barbecue.

  After a quick pee break at home, Mason and I headed to the barbecue. We took the long way so I could update the Bobrovs.

  "Hello, Mrs. Bobrov," I said when she answered the door. "Just wanted to let you know they’re fixing the roof and should be done by tomorrow."

  "That fast? It took them three days to tear apart the old roof."

  "They'll be working through the night," I said as I handed her the money. "Here, this is for you. They apologized for the delay and wanted you to have a full refund."

  Mr. Bobrov had shuffled up behind his wife and was listening in. He grabbed the cash from his wife and quickly counted it. "This is more than we paid them."

  "They wanted you to have the extra as a gift for your patience with them."

  Mr. Bobrov gave me a suspicious look, but nodded to his wife and put the money in his pocket.

  "Anyway, you'll be able to return home as soon as they finish. If there are any delays, you're welcome to stay here until your home is habitable."

  Mr. Bobrov grunted, but his wife was more effusive in her praise. She leaned forward and hugged me. "Thank you, thank you for your help. You're a saint."

  "No trouble at all." I returned her hug. "Hey, if you two are hungry, our company has set up a big picnic near the barbecue pits. You're welcome to come and eat all you want."

  Mr. Bobrov was shaking his head, but his wife was more practical. "We would be happy to come. Thank you for inviting us."

  Finally, we were seated at one of the picnic tables near the grills. Mason and Logan flanked me on my left and right. Across from us sat Logan's daughters, Alisha and Brita, and Samuel's daughter, Selene.

  Brita and Selene were chattering away in an almost indecipherable language, with a lot of references to TV shows, internet celebrities, and memes I had never heard of. It made me feel old.

  They loaded our table with several trays of meat, from rare steaks to roast pork to grilled lamb. A bit of everything for the crowd.

  Brita filled her plate with the more thoroughly-cooked portions of meat and some grilled vegetables.

  The scents were overwhelming, as was my hunger. When Alisha raised an eyebrow at my platter, I just said, "I'm eating for four."

  "And what was your excuse before you got knocked up, alpha?" asked Logan.

  "Smart-ass runt," I responded.

  "Why do you call dad 'runt’?" asked Brita.

  "And why does he call you 'alpha’?" added Alisha.

  I was tempted to tell them the truth, that I had been sent to Hakone in Japan to kill Logan, the "monster of Hakone." That Logan had done his best to try to kill me and had nearly succeeded when he threw a softball-sized rock at my head. How I had beaten him in combat and, at the point of death, he had agreed to become the first member of my pack, with the lowly rank of 'runt.'"

  I shook off my daydreams. There was no way to describe our relationship.

  "Because he's so short," I said.

  "Because she thinks she's the boss," said Logan at the same moment.

  Mason laughed and took my hand. "We're big on nicknames in this group. Logan was in the Army, so he's a grunt. He's short, so he's a runt-grunt. We shortened it to runt."

  While Mason entertained the girls, I focused on listening in to the other conversations going on in the area. It's not really eavesdropping when everyone knows that werewolves can hear everything.

  About twenty-five feet away from us, Mike and Christopher were drinking beers and talking about their time in the military.

  "…so I ended up in EOD in Afghanistan," said Christopher.

  "I spent some time there before they assigned me to the island," said Mike. "Hey, do you still have your blood-chit?"

  "Yeah, I reported it lost and kept the original. The quartermaster was pissed. I told him he was free to come out on my next patrol with me so we could search for it together. He declined and said he would write me up."

  "A write-up?" Mike laughed. "That's like getting a black mark on your permanent record in grade school."

  "Yeah. What were they going to do? Send me to a combat zone to look for IEDs? It was already my job."

  "The Army hates it when soldiers find out they have nothing to lose."

  I sent a tickle to Christopher through our pack link and he instantly turned toward me. Strangely, Mike turned at the same time, even though he wasn't pack. Could he see our links with those upgraded eyeballs Mason had made for him?

  "Yes, alpha?" asked Christopher as he walked over, followed by Mike.

  "What's a 'blood-chit’?"

  Christopher looked at the young girls, reluctant to discuss harsh realities in front of children. Logan said, "Go ahead. My kids know a lot about the military and Selene has been in prison; you won't shock any of them." Alisha and Brita goggled at the quiet Selene when they heard the ‘prison’ comment, but turned their attention back to Christopher.

  "Well, okay," said Christopher. "A blood-chit is a document that pilots, special forces, and select service-members get. It's basically a guarantee from the US government that assisting a soldier to return to US forces will be rewarded. It's written in several languages and has a serial number that's assigned to that soldier."

  "'Select service-members,'" snorted Logan. I never had a blood-chit."

  "You've got something better, Logan. What I gave you is worth more than a queen's ransom." I was referring to the magical portal coin I had given him.

  I realized my mistake when Logan's daughters’ eyes widened in surprise. Crap! One mention of Logan having something valuable and his cheating ex would be all over him to cough up "her half." The kids were loyal, but liked to gossip.

  Logan saved me. "That coin? Sure, it has sentimental value, but it’d be worthless if I tried to sell it. Having a stable job, packmates, and living close to my kids is worth far more than that coin."

  "Well, consider that coin your blood-chi
t," I said. "If you ever need anything, you can use that to call in a favor."

  12

  The third time I got up to pee, I stayed up. I reached over to Mason's side of the bed to let him know I was going downstairs, only to find his spot empty.

  He couldn't have gotten past me, so he must have gotten up during one of my pee breaks. I walked down our hallway. His study door was open, and the light was on, but no sound came out. Inside the room, Mason was working on his computer. He had two 32-inch displays on his desk and two more 50-inch displays mounted on the wall directly above the smaller displays, giving him a lot of workspace for his calculations.

  On the wall next to him was a whiteboard filled with mathematical equations in his precise hand. I recognized some that represented probability, but the rest were beyond me.

  Mason was typing furiously on his keyboard, never taking his hands off the keys to use the mouse. The four screens were filling up with more equations.

  Mason had set a mystical circle to work undisturbed. I could break it, but the results could be disastrous. I backed up, preparing to go downstairs. Mason noticed the movement and turned to smile at me. God, I loved it when he smiled at me.

  He held up one finger in a ‘wait a second’ gesture and turned back to his keyboard. Another furious but silent attack on the keyboard and he finished. He hit the enter key, and the screens all locked.

  The circle collapsed at his gesture, and I could hear him. "Good morning, Luna. I'm glad you're up. Do you want to have tea and a snack while we greet the morning?"

  "Of course," I said. "Let's go downstairs."

  He stood and stretched, then walked out of the room and kissed me. He hurried to get in front of me on the stairs and I smiled at the back of his head. The odds that a gymnastics-trained werewolf would slip and need him to soften her fall were nonexistent, but the thought that he cared warmed my heart.

  Soon the kettle was whistling. Mason made chamomile for me and smooth-brew coffee for himself. He put our cups and snacks on a tray and we went outside to our small patio to sip, snack, and wait for the dawn.

  It was a quiet time for us as the sun rose. There's something incredibly soothing to magicians in the dawn; it's the best time to absorb ambient magical energy and greet the day. Both Mason and my father said they heard music with the dawn.

  As a werewolf, my perception of the sunrise was different. I heard the stirring of animal life, the surge of sap inside plants, the rising scents as the sun warmed the earth. Even here, in a desert climate, the song of life was ringing out with the dawn.

  Once the bottom edge of the sun was over the horizon, Mason created a soundproof bubble around our yard, a sign he wanted to talk without the other werewolves overhearing.

  I had a sudden thought. "Mason, when was the first time you saw a sunrise?"

  "I was around twenty-one the first time I came to Earth. It was quite a shock."

  "And you never saw the sun in the Fae lands?"

  "Oh, no. To see the sun there would have meant traveling to the realm of the Summer Queen. I wouldn't have been welcome there."

  "I would love to see the summer lands," I said.

  "As an heir to the Winter Queen's throne, you would be even less welcome than me."

  "But I'm not really an heir to the throne, am I?" I rubbed my belly. "It's only because of our children. They’re in the line of succession, but I'd be a—what do you call it? A regent?"

  "In any case, it's not a trip either of us can make."

  After a few minutes of silence, he said, "I've been thinking about those blood-chits Mike and Christopher were discussing last night."

  "You too? I thought it would be nice to have some documents or award certificates to give out for outstanding service."

  "Not documents, something with an intrinsic value. I was thinking of using gold coins," said Mason.

  "Like those portal coins I gave to Naomi, Mike, and Kuga?"

  "Not the portal coins. Those are much too valuable to give away. My plan is to create new coins."

  "I like the idea. Let's make some medals," I said.

  "There's more to my notion. Much more." Mason leaned forward in his seat in excitement.

  I took another sip of my cooling tea. "Okay, tell me your plan. Are you going to make these coins magical?"

  "That's the beauty of it! Almost no magic is involved, just programming and organization. These coins will be plain gold, with some special features."

  "If the coins aren't magical, what would make them valuable?"

  "These coins can be traded for magical service." At my puzzled look, he continued, "You know how we trade favors amongst ourselves in the magical community? Like when Pe-Jennie and Naomi helped me in your jailbreak?"

  "And when you abandoned us for months to fulfill that mission for the spider-goddess. Yes, I recall." I was still pissed about that incident.

  "It's how we do business. A favor for a favor," said Mason.

  "I always wondered about that. What if they ask for something you won't do? Kill someone, or betray a loved one?"

  "Then I would say no and we would renegotiate."

  "So you could just blow them off? What keeps supernaturals honest?"

  "Our reputation depends on how well we keep our promises. That's why lying is considered a disgraceful act among supernaturals," said Mason.

  "What's the advantage of using these coins instead of your IOUs?"

  "We can trade these coins. Instead of a one-on-one IOU, we can exchange them with anyone. Including humans," said Mason.

  "But most humans know nothing about magic. Won't the coins be useless to them?"

  "Remember, they’re gold. There’s always that intrinsic value. I’d set up a standard offer of fifty thousand dollars to return the coin to me. A mundane would get cash. A supernatural could use the coin to request a favor. If it's within my power, I'll do it. Just like our current IOU system."

  "Doesn't that make you the 'Central Bank' for these coins? What if you're away in fairy-tale land or not available?" I asked.

  "That's why I want you to join me in this venture. Together, we have a lot to offer. Supernatural or mundane, we can solve almost any problem." Mason smiled at me with pride.

  "I don't think I have that much to offer. Sure, I'm a good fighter when I'm not pregnant; I know a few magical tricks and I'm a low-grade healer. But I can't risk large spells until after the kids are born."

  Mason stroked my hand. "You're much too modest. Your magical abilities are getting stronger every day, you're a tough-ass bitch with a pack of killers to back you up, and you own a hospital."

  "I only invested the mining profits in that hospital so Dad could get back to work again. With his record, no one would hire him. Even after you deleted the records of his commitment, that fifteen-year gap in his employment was hard to explain."

  "But still, you own a hospital. If a human came to redeem a coin and asked for the best care for his child, could you do that?"

  I nodded. "Even if Dad couldn't heal the patient, we could give out the best human care possible. But doesn’t almost everybody have health insurance?"

  "Most people have health insurance, yes. But you could provide health care. No deductible, no paperwork, no waiting for an insurance company bean-counter to approve, no delays. I think that alone is worth a lot, probably more than the fifty grand bounty."

  Mason took a sip of his coffee, made a face at the cold brew, then ran his finger around the edge of the cup. The cold coffee suddenly steamed as it came back to the perfect temperature. "I can't do this without you," he said.

  "You're the strongest magician on the planet," I scoffed. "You don't need me."

  "There are others close to my level. More importantly, I'm not always 'on the planet,'" he said. "If I'm not here to redeem these favors, the plan will fail. If you join me, there will be redundancy in our system."

  "So I would have to commit to doing favors for whomever shows up with one of these proposed coins?" I
asked.

  "Yes, but it should be rare. I expect a secondary market to emerge. If a human needs medical care, she can go to your hospital, get care, and the transaction is closed. If a human needs a minor miracle, she posts her wish on-line. A minor magician can see this wish, and if it's within her power, can resolve the human's problem. The magician then has a coin she can use to get assistance slightly above her level."

  I scrunched my forehead in thought. "That means we would get the absolute worst cases, both mundane and magical."

  "That's pretty much what happens now. I calculate we would end up with one or two missions a year."

  "Well," I said, "for your proposed plan I guess I can propose to join you." I laughed and said, "It sounds so complicated to set up—the kids will probably be grown before it gets off the ground."

  Why was he smiling? Mason rose and gathered our tray. Just before he entered the house, his smile turned into a huge grin, and he said. "It's set up and ready to activate. The First Inter-dimensional Bank of Luna is already off the ground."

  I followed him inside, shocked speechless. He had set up a bank? In my name?

  "Let's have breakfast," said Mason. "What would you like? Ham, eggs, and a bit of leftover barbecue?"

  My rumbling stomach was answer enough to get him started preparing the meal.

  Mason cooked with total concentration and a judicious use of magic. He gestured and all four burners lit at once, cupboard doors opened, and pans floated out to land on the stove.

  Mason opened the refrigerator and tossed a stick of butter over his shoulder. The butter unwrapped itself and split into unequal sections, each section landing in a pan that had heated up more quickly than the laws of thermodynamics allowed.

  Then he pulled out six eggs, juggled them for a few seconds, and repeated the over-the-shoulder toss. The eggs hit in mid-air, cracked open and deposited themselves into the largest pan. The shells vanished somewhere.

  I blinked, and a package of bacon had found its way into another pan. Another blink and thick slices of ham were sizzling in the third pan.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” I said.