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

by Veronica Singer

  "I'll give you a thousand dollars in cash to be our driver for the rest of the day."

  "Uber doesn't like it if we make deals outside of the app. I could get in trouble."

  "Suzanna, we're just friends who need a ride." I handed her ten one-hundred-dollar bills. "We'll pay you in advance. I'll even buy you lunch here and we can discuss this movie role for your daughter." I rubbed my belly and added, "I'm hungry, still need to buy some clean clothes, and really can't move those cases."

  Two hours later, we were all seated around a large table at the Red Robin restaurant in the mall, enjoying our desserts. Mason and Logan had joined us. The presence of Ashton and Suzanna had surprised them both, but we kept the conversation light.

  "So, Mason," said Suzanna, "do you finance a lot of films?"

  Mason choked on his wine. I handed him a napkin to clean up with.

  "No, Suzanna," I said. "This is the first film we've worked on. Films are so expensive to produce. That's why we started with a film student like Ashton."

  The waitress, whose name-tag read Cindy, was refilling coffee for Mason and Mike. She raised an eyebrow and stared at Ashton. "You're producing a film?"

  Ashton turned red, then took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Yes, I'm producing a film. We've got a budget, locations set up, a lead actress"—here he nodded at me—"and the best special affects you’ve ever seen."

  She gave Ashton a doubtful look and within seconds Ashton had his laptop out and was pulling up the video footage of my attack on the assassination squad. Cindy stood next to Ashton to see the screen. About halfway through the segment, she knelt down and put her hand on Ashton's shoulder and scooted in closer. The scent of her attraction wafted through the air. Logan and I couldn't miss it. Even Mike was squinting at Cindy, trying to puzzle out the change in her aura.

  "Ashton," I said, "that's kind of gruesome for a restaurant, don't you think? And didn't you say that video had to be kept secret so no one would steal your script? Isn't that why I was supposed to have the only copy?"

  Ashton put his hand on top of Cindy's and said, "I always make backups. Anyway, I'm sure we can trust Cindy not to tell anyone about our film." Ashton inhaled Cindy's perfume and looked at me hopefully. "We might even find a part for her."

  Cindy squeezed Ashton's shoulder and said, "Really?" She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "That would be so nice."

  Suzanna's mouth was in a tight line, and she had her arms crossed. The scent of anger came off her in waves.

  "Hey, director," said Logan loudly, "didn't you promise Suzanna's daughter the most screen time?"

  "Well, yeah," he began as Cindy stood up abruptly, "but we have several roles open for aspiring actresses."

  Suzanna smiled at Logan, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Pissing off the woman who had our stolen military-grade hardware locked in her van could have had disastrous consequences.

  The host walked by and snapped at Cindy, "Your other tables are waiting."

  With a regretful look, she hurried away to take care of business.

  24

  Two days later, in the late afternoon, Mason called me down to the garage. He had spent a lot of time setting up our two-car attached garage for magical work. He had ordered large sheets of various metals for his experiments. The metal sheets were stacked up vertically against one wall. Mason had mounted two four-foot-tall steel pillars in front of the metal.

  “What’s with the posts?”

  “Safety measure. If the plates tilt, the posts will keep them upright. Otherwise, those heavy plates could fall and hurt someone.”

  I reached out and touched one plate. Stainless steel, 3/8” thick. I grabbed the plate and lifted, bringing one corner off the ground.

  “It only weighs about five hundred pounds,” I said. “Either of us should be able to handle it.”

  “But I have a dozen plates there. Think of it as childproofing. We can handle them, but it could be dangerous to others.”

  I looked over the other modifications Mason had made to the garage. He had ground out a line in the concrete slab, in a twelve-foot-wide circle, one inch wide by one inch deep.

  Then he had filled the line with pure gold. I did a mental calculation. A one-inch wide by one-inch deep length of gold in a twelve-foot circumference. Over forty-five hundred ounces of gold? I had to run the calculation twice. Mason had spent the equivalent of nearly eight million dollars for this mystic circle.

  "You know what you spent on this circle could have paid for this entire subdivision?" I commented. "Are you sure this was necessary?"

  "Yeah, I needed a circle big enough for big jobs.”

  “Did you transmute that much gold? I didn’t feel you use that much magic.”

  “No, I bought enough coins to make the circle.”

  “You spent a lot of money.”

  “Don't worry, we can afford it." Mason went back to scribing glyphs and symbols into the gold band.

  "We can afford it?" I grimaced and crossed my arms, fighting to keep my voice calm. "I don't know what we can afford or not. You talk like you have all the money in the world, but we're spending tons on the mine, on the hospital, and on this new currency you created."

  Mason looked up from his work, eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. Then he took a deep breath and stood.

  "Did you know that when you worry about the future, you rub your belly?"

  "What does that mean?"

  He reached out and rubbed my belly with such a look of tenderness that my anger melted away.

  "It means you're concerned about the children. Don't worry—"

  "Stop saying that!"

  He halted, then his face calmed. "I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you. I set up trust funds for the children. There's enough human money in there for them to never need to worry about money."

  I tried to stay angry. But curiosity won out. "How much money?"

  He looked at me like I had just asked how many kernels of corn were in a popcorn machine. "At these amounts, depending on the investments made, the money should grow to hundreds of millions. At least."

  "So these are risky investments?"

  "I turned the investment over to a trusted advisor. Someone who spends a lot of time here on Earth, so they can track things day-to-day."

  "Who?"

  "Kuga’s handling the details."

  Then he veered off on another subject. "You know, I lost almost half my Earth wealth in 2011."

  "Okay, tell me the story." Sometimes I had to humor his penchant for teaching through stories. I still itched to know more about the money.

  "I went for a short vacation in Fae. An overnight party at Chrysoberyl's castle. When I got back to Earth, nearly a year had passed. Throw in a few revolutions and some other changes, and the money was gone."

  "Did your sister do that on purpose?"

  He shook his head. "No. She doesn't care about Earth money. She's interested in gold, magic, and protecting her realm."

  "If Chrysoberyl didn't stick you in a slow-time zone, how did so much time pass?"

  Mason reached out with his hand like he was about to grab a marker and start doing equations. But there was no whiteboard or markers here in the garage, so he used words and the occasional gesture to explain.

  "Time between Fae and Earth is only loosely coupled. Time flows the same on both sides of the veil. Major events can cause sudden slippage of the time between our realms. Like the slippage of tectonic plates can cause earthquakes."

  I frowned in thought. "Wasn't there a big earthquake in 2011? In Fukushima, Japan?"

  At his nod, I continued, "You're saying the earthquake in Fukushima caused a, a, timequake between Earth and Fae?"

  "'Timequake,'" quoted Mason. "I like that. The events are coupled, but I don't know if the earthquake caused the timequake, or if it was the other way around."

  Footsteps and the scent of Logan, Mike, and Christopher announced their arrival. Mason sensed them also. With a gesture, he activated the g
arage door opener.

  “Good afternoon,” I said. “I thought you were going to text me before you came over?”

  “I did,” said Christopher. “You didn’t respond.”

  “That’s my fault,” said Mason. “I put up a block on all transmissions in the garage. No cell phone, wifi, or radio signals can enter or exit here.”

  I waved the trio in. Only Mike walked over the circle Mason had created. Logan and Christopher stepped gingerly around the edge of the circle.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Mason gestured at the equipment case we had taken from the military base. “That remote controller has a built-in GPS and a transmitter. If the signal weren’t blocked, they would be able to track it down.”

  “Damn,” said Mike. “I should have thought of that. Those things are worth millions. Of course they would have a tracker. I’m sorry.”

  Mason waved off his apology. “It was on a timer and didn’t start transmitting until after I had it under lockdown.”

  Mike shook his head. “It’s not just that. We left that vehicle there, with Luna’s name on the title. They will probably track us down through that.”

  Mason tilted his head and gazed at nothing for five minutes, a magician’s daze. Logan shuddered and said, “It’s spooky when he does that.”

  Logan, Christopher, and I discussed pack business. School tuition for the children of our packmates; how to handle our relations with the other supernatural communities in Las Vegas—the thousand-and-one details of running a pack were a weight. Mom had made it seem easy.

  Finally, details sorted, Logan brought up Rooster. “Should we settle our differences now? We could do another desert hunt.”

  The thought of Rooster racing naked through the desert night while we gave chase brought a smile to my lips. It would be so much fun. Then the image of Dr. Patrizia’s disappointed look flashed through my mind. Did I want to become the type of alpha who killed at the least slight?

  “No,” I said regretfully. “He’s not worth our trouble. We’ll leave him alone unless he acts against us.”

  Mason blinked for the first time in minutes, picked up his iPad and started typing furiously. After about thirty seconds, he said, “It’s all taken care of. The DMV records now show that the vehicle was sold by Mr. Jenkins two years ago to a Mr. Finnigan Wake. Mr. Wake has an address in an unincorporated stretch of the Arizona desert.”

  “Damn magic makes life too easy for you,” snorted Logan.

  “Almost no magic involved. Just enough to alter signatures on the documents. Backdoor access to the DMV’s database did the rest,” said Mason.

  I interrupted before these two could start in on the same old arguments. “Speaking of computers, what are we going to do about Ashton?”

  “Toss him a BITCHCoin and send him away,” grumbled Logan. “We don’t need more humans around here.”

  Christopher laughed. “I think you’re jealous because your daughter wants a part in his movie.”

  “There won’t be a movie,” said Logan. “That was just a cover story to explain away those videos of Luna’s revenge. I wish I’d never told Alisha the story.”

  “I don’t know,” I mused. “He’s really smart. That movie scam was a good idea. He figured out that staying close to magical creatures allowed his memory to persist. He also was able to follow Mason’s complicated math—”

  I cut myself off. Discussing Mason’s meta-magical math might lead to how well I could perform calculations that only magicians could do.

  “What do you think, Mike? Is Ashton trustworthy?”

  “No,” he said flatly. “He’s unreliable.”

  “If you don’t trust him, send him away,” said Mason. “But that movie idea was sharp. Why don’t you send him to Los Angeles with a few million and see if he can make this cover movie?”

  “You think that’s a good idea?” I mused for a moment. “You’re right; I practically promised our Uber driver we’d give her daughter a role.”

  Once again Mason spent a few minutes typing at superhuman speed.

  When done, he looked up with a smile. “It’s done. ‘Lunatic Film Partners’ is incorporated and funded. With Luna as CEO, Ashton Smith as a producer, and Kuga as CFO.”

  I was used to Mason’s computer wizardry, but Logan looked surprised. “You did all that in a few minutes?”

  Mason grinned at Logan. “I even gave you a position as ‘best boy.’”

  Logan growled at the jibe, and Mason quickly added, “That way, you can be there with your daughter when she does her audition.”

  Logan gritted his teeth and said, “Thanks. It will mean a lot to her.”

  “Hey,” I said, “she might not even like acting. She might turn down the part.”

  Both Logan and Christopher looked at me in surprise. “Alpha,” Logan said, “you don’t know anything about teenage girls. This damn movie is all she’s been talking about.”

  “Okay, Logan,” I said, “you and Ashton can sort out the details.”

  Then one of Mason’s comments hit me. “You called him Ashton Smith? That’s not his real name.”

  “Oh, I gave him a new identity. There are several warrants out for his arrest under his original name. Cyber trespass, mostly.”

  I had no response to this. Another example of Mason thinking six moves ahead of the rest of the world.

  “All right,” I said, “any other business to take care of?”

  Logan and Christopher exchanged a look, then Logan said, “Alpha, we need to talk about letting too many humans know about our pack.”

  He nodded at Mike and said, “No offense, Mike. But if Ashton is untrustworthy, so are all humans.”

  “Don’t question my loyalty,” said Mike. He gave Logan a challenging stare. “I’ve risked my life for Luna”—a slight pause—“and Mason many times. I would do the same for your kids, or the children of any of the pack.”

  Logan stared back at Mike. “What can you do for any of the pack that we can’t do ourselves? You’re a surprisingly good fighter, but you don’t have fangs or claws.” Logan popped his claws and held them inches away from Mike’s eyes.

  For a moment, I thought they would fight. Then Mike laughed and said, “You want to fight? Meet me at the new moon. You bring your claws and fangs. I’ll bring my grandmother’s silver serving fork.”

  Logan shivered and snarled, “That’s not fair. We’re weaker at the new moon. And bringing silver to a fight is cheating.”

  “Special Forces don’t do ‘fair fights,’” said Mike. “Tell you what. We’ll fight at the next full moon. No silver, no fangs or claws. Just me and you.”

  Logan opened his mouth to agree. Then he paused. “No. I don’t want to have to kill one of Luna’s pets just before the kids are born. Let’s put it off until after the kids are born.”

  Mason opened his mouth to make a joke, then caught my headshake.

  “Agreed,” Mike said.

  There was a long silence, then Mason changed the subject.

  “Speaking of silver,” he said, addressing me, “what do you want to do with that silver assassin’s dagger?”

  “Do with it? I don’t want to do anything with it.”

  “Why not? It’s a powerful weapon and can be used against werewolves or magicians.”

  Christopher, Logan, and I shook our heads at the same time. “Mason, an alpha who needs to carry a poisoned weapon would lose the respect of her pack and challengers. Hell, any other alpha would send his entire pack against me if I brandished that knife.”

  “Okay, give it to Logan or Christopher. They can wear gloves and—”

  “No way, magician,” interrupted Logan. He shivered again. “None of us will use that damned magical knife.”

  Christopher tilted his head. “Why don’t you carry the knife? We already hat—um, dislike you and your magic. You’re the best person to carry that weapon.”

  “Yeah,” added Logan. “It’s not like we could hate you any more.”

&
nbsp; Mason grinned and held his hands up. With the slightest wriggle of his fingers, he called up magic. Thunder rumbled in the clear sky, startling Logan and Christopher.

  “It would just get in my way. I’m a lot more dangerous when my hands are free.”

  “It looks like no one can use the dagger,” I said.

  “How about giving it to Mike?” asked Mason. “Is that against your rules? It will work against witches, werewolves, and magicians.”

  “There’s no rule or custom that forbids Mike from carrying that knife,” I said. Giving the knife to Mike would also show the pack that I trusted him completely.

  “Mason, give me the knife,” I said. I reached into my invisible bag and pulled out the lion-skin gloves.

  Mason handed me the blade. I held it gingerly. The scent of silver made my scar itch.

  I turned to Mike and held the dagger out in my open palms.

  “Michael, will you accept this blade and swear to use it only to protect me and mine?” I looked at Mason, Christopher, and Logan, then down at my belly to indicate the children.

  Mike reached out and took the blade. Then he went down on one knee. “I gladly accept this weapon and swear to use it in the defense of Luna, her heirs, her pack, and her family.”

  “I hope neither of you two have any input into my girl’s script,” said Logan. “That corny dialog went out years ago.”

  Mike popped to his feet and smiled. Even Logan’s jibes didn’t affect him now.

  “Since learning Fae, my English has become more formal,” I said to Logan. “But I’m still the woman who beat your ass in a fight, outclimbed you on Tokyo Tower, and runs this pack. We clear, Runt?”

  “We’re clear,” laughed Logan.

  “Mike,” said Mason, “that blade has some tricks I can show you later. Tricks that make it more dangerous than it looks.”

  “Will it work against demons?” asked Logan. “We need a way to gut that Marcus bastard.”

  Mason shook his head. “The forger didn’t include any glyphs that could damage demons.”

  “I don’t need this knife to hurt Marcus,” said Mike.