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

by Veronica Singer

  “Not like this, Mike,” I said as I touched the timestone. He had seen the same drawbacks that Mason had mentioned. “How would you feel about a magical tattoo?”

  “A tattoo that would let me ignore tear gas and blister agents? Sign me up!”

  “There are drawbacks,” I said. “Magic is inherently unpredictable. This magic gas mask could fail at the wrong time. Because it draws power from your body, it could drain you.”

  “But normally it recharges from sunlight and moonlight,” said Mason.

  “How long will the mask last before the ‘magic batteries’ drain?”

  “The best I can do is ten hours of usage,” said Mason. Then he added, “In complete darkness. With a source of light, it should run continuously.”

  “Sounds good. Better than a regular mask.”

  “There’s more,” I said. “Werewolves hate the smell of magic. It triggers an attack reflex. Werewolves will find you abhorrent.”

  “But only while the tattoo is active,” added Mason.

  “Will you find me abhorrent?” Mike asked, then added, “Hard to be your driver if you can’t stand my smell.”

  “No, Mike. I use magic myself. I’m used to it.”

  “A permanent case of werewolf-specific BO, compared to the advantage of never needing to wear a gas mask? No problem.”

  “Not just a gas mask,” said Mason. “We’ve incorporated a spell Luna developed that protects against noise.”

  “Like the headsets we wear for hearing protection?”

  “Much better than those,” said Mason. “This spell sets up a self-cancelling noise field around your ears that protects against audio attacks, both explosions and ultrasonic.”

  “Even better!” Mike’s eyes glittered like a child on Christmas morning. He looked at me and said, “I was jealous of your Tesla tank, but this is much better.”

  Mason and I exchanged a look. “There’s more. If I slip up and use magic in front of the pack, I might have to blame you.”

  Mike laughed. “Like my dad used to blame the dog for his farts so Mom wouldn’t get mad. I don’t like those guys much anyway. I’m all for it.”

  Mason dropped the shield for a minute, and I brought a chair from the kitchen for the procedure. Shield back up, Mike stripped his shirt off and sat down. Mike pulled his portal coin from around his neck and clutched it in his hand.

  “You won’t need that portal coin anymore,” Mason said.

  Mike’s fist clenched even harder. “Why?”

  I touched Mike’s shoulder to calm him. “Because you won’t need it to retain your memory. Instead of depending on the talisman, you’ll have the tattoo.” I gave Mason a reproving look. “No one is asking you to give up that portal coin.”

  “Okay,” said Mike. “I’m ready.”

  Mason examined Mike like an artist would gaze at a blank canvas.

  Mike grew nervous and said, “I assumed you’d put it on my torso. If it has to go on my butt, I’d prefer that Luna not be here.”

  Ignoring his comment, Mason said, “The best location is on your chest, just above your heart. But Luna and I need to work together on this. I don’t have enough energy to complete the design by myself.”

  Mike stood and shook his head. “Luna needs all of her energy for the babies. This can wait.”

  There was a shock from my timestone bracelet, and a shiver ran down my spine as I had a flash of Mike choking on tear gas. Some kind of premonition powered by the timestone?

  “It’s okay, Mike,” I said. “I won’t be giving up much energy. I have a strong feeling you’ll need this soon.”

  Mike shook his head again.

  “Lord,” I said, “I’m surrounded by stubborn men. Sit your ass down.”

  “Yes ma’am. But if you feel weak, just stop.”

  He gestured to his right shoulder where an intricate tattoo of an eagle astride a trident crossed with a pistol was imprinted on his skin. “My trident tattoo took three sessions.”

  “This will have to be done all in one session,” said Mason as he opened drawers on the cart and started pulling out his implements. “The spellwork can’t be interrupted.”

  Mike looked ready to object again, so Mason added, “It’ll take about an hour. If there are no interruptions.”

  Mike looked at me and asked, “Is that Mason’s way of saying ‘Sit down and shut up?’”

  I laughed and nodded.

  Mike plopped down and leaned back. “Okay, doc. I’m ready. Let’s get this done.”

  Mason and I began. With me supplying energy and Mason the talent and tools, we etched the design into Mike’s flesh.

  I hadn’t considered how painful the process would be, but Mike gritted his teeth and endured it. Only the occasional twitch of his hands indicated how it affected him.

  Within the promised hour, the tattoo was done.

  Mike looked down at his chest, then poked the tattoo with a finger. “It’s not sore?”

  “We healed up your skin as the last step.”

  Mike blinked several times. “Why can’t I focus on it? I can see the circle outline and the pentagram, but the rest is hard to see. It seems to change every time I look at it.”

  “Those are Fae symbols,” I said. “They shift over time.”

  We spent a few minutes showing Mike how to activate the spells. It took a few tries for him to become comfortable with the mental triggers, but he eventually got it.

  Mason dropped his bubble and started cleaning up as I took the chair back into the house. I ran upstairs and dressed for work—today, a bright green maternity top with matching pants and flats.

  I shifted the color of the polish on my toe- and fingernails to match my outfit, and the timestone shifted color at the same time. For jewelry with unknown destructive potential, it did look nice.

  At nine o’clock, Mike and I drove away, headed toward the hospital.

  27

  The man I hated more than anyone in the entire state of Nevada sat across from my desk. Tears were dribbling down his cheeks as he bawled like a lost child. His left arm was in a sling and the stink of infection wafted from his hand.

  I was surprised to find that I felt sorry for Rooster. Sorry, Mr. Joseph Riley.

  I pushed a box of tissues across the desk, which he accepted with a nod.

  Then I pushed the single BITCHCoin he had put on my desk back toward him. He started bawling again.

  “They said you would do anything for one of those coins.”

  “They don’t know me. While a gold coin is valuable, it’s not enough to bribe your way into our hospital.”

  “It’s more than a coin,” he said. “It’s supposed to be worth tens of thousands of dollars.”

  “Then perhaps you should cash it in and use it to seek treatment for your injured hand.”

  “I can’t cash it in. If the money goes into a bank, the IRS will seize it for unpaid taxes.”

  “I have no interest in your tax problems. In any case, you work for the governor; I’m sure your insurance will cover treatment. Our hospital even offers a discount for PEBP members.”

  “I’m no longer a member. I’ve been fired over the mine.”

  I suppressed a smile at his misery. “Already? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

  “The mine is worthless,” he spat. “We called in the best mining engineers in the country. They all said it was played out, that the minerals you retrieved were a fluke.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “We made it work.” Then I pointed out, “You also turned down the offer of our services.”

  “Maybe we could get your team to come back?”

  “With legal action in progress? I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Moonrise Mining will accept nothing less than the return of our land, reimbursement for damages, and a pledge to never interfere in our operations again.”

  Rooster shook his head at those demands. “They’ll fight you every step of the way.”

  “And they will continue to
lose money, every step of the way. Still, stealing the mine wasn’t your idea, I’m sure. Why did they blame you?”

  “They had to blame someone. I was the easiest target.”

  Sucks to be you. I had a momentary struggle with my inner wolf. She exulted in his pain. My human side did feel a bit sorry for him. Plus, if he died from that infection I’d caused, I would have to add his name to the weekly list of people I had killed when I had my next session with Dr. Patrizia.

  I gave him my tightest smile, one step above disdain. “We are a charity hospital,” I said as I picked up the phone. “I’ll call in our best doctor to examine your wound. He might be able to save your hand.”

  My father, Dr. White, showed up in minutes. As soon as he entered, his eyes locked on Rooster’s hand.

  “Abscess, severe infection, and fever,” he said. “Let’s get you down to the emergency room.”

  “Will you be able to save my hand?”

  Dad gave the standard noncommittal doctor response. “We’ll do everything we can to help you.”

  Rooster stood, head hanging in defeat.

  “Dr. White,” I said to Dad, then twitched my fingers to indicate magic use, “please do everything possible to help him.”

  “Yes, Luna.”

  I pushed the coin even closer to the edge of the desk. “Please take your coin, Mr. Riley.”

  Mom knocked on my door and stuck her head in. She held up a bag of donuts. “Peace offering?”

  I laughed and waved her in. “Shouldn’t you be offering those to Mason?”

  She looked away wistfully. “Maybe I can blame my wolf. She really hates magicians. Even your father, who did so much for us.” Mom forced a smile. “Yes, I owe Mason an apology.”

  I froze with the donut halfway to my mouth. Mom wasn’t the type to apologize. I took a bite to give me time to think.

  After swallowing, I said, “Who told you about the money?”

  “Clarice in accounting mentioned something,” said Mom. “Is it true?”

  “The fifty million is true. Mason was instrumental in obtaining the donation.”

  “But it wasn’t his money? He’s not a multi-millionaire?”

  “No, it wasn’t his money.”

  “And?”

  “Mason is not a millionaire,” I said carefully. He’s a billionaire. “His family is wealthy, so he knows a lot of people.” I added “We don’t expect to get any help from his family because he and his family don’t get along.”

  “Still, a wealthy family. You didn’t sign a pre-nup, did you?”

  I gave her a glare.

  “I’m just trying to look out for my baby and grandkids,” she said.

  As diplomatically as possible, I said, “I appreciate your concern, Mom.” I smiled and continued, “I handle our finances and we are doing fine.”

  “You handle the finances?”

  “Well, me and Kuga, our accountant. Mason really doesn’t have much interest in money.”

  “So, he’s really broke?”

  “We are not broke. I have a good salary from this job. You don’t have to worry about us.”

  Mom chewed on her donut with a frown. “I knew he was lying. All those magicians have their heads in the clouds.”

  “He’s a magician. He’s my ‘head in the clouds’ magician. And he makes me happy. We’re a package deal.”

  Mom nodded acceptance. “I’ll hold my nose and talk to him.”

  I made my own peace offering. “Don’t feel too bad, Mom. His family hates the idea of him marrying a werewolf just as much as you hate the idea of me marrying a magician.”

  Mom blinked rapidly. Was she holding back tears? “As long as he takes care of you and the kids, I’ll do my best to get along with him.”

  She finished the last bite of her donut and added, “Too bad about the money. Our pack could do a lot with fifty million dollars.”

  “I though Dmitri was handling things well?”

  “He’s like Raymond. He keeps the money under tight control.” She shook her head in frustration. “I want to break away and form a new pack with the kids.”

  “A new pack? How would you do that?”

  “I’ve got my eye on a thousand-acre spread in northern Nevada.” Her eyes gleamed as she spoke. “There’s a small forest, a lake, and lots of game. With me in charge it would be perfect. Just five million would set us up.”

  “You want to be an alpha?”

  “Why not? You make it seem easy.”

  I thought of all the fighting and killing—against other werewolves, monsters from fairytales, humans, and demons—and what it had cost my soul. I could probably come up with enough money for Mom to break away. But would that be a good idea?

  “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

  “I dream of running on my own land, racing under the moon with the pups dancing around.”

  “Almost poetic,” I laughed. “Sounds like a good place for pups.”

  I rubbed my belly. “Tell you what-I’ll have a talk with Mason.” I held up a finger at her delighted expression, “If he agrees, maybe we can work something out. But we’ll want access to your land.”

  “You and your children will always be welcome.”

  I held her eyes for a long ten count. She finally looked away. “All of you, including Mason,” she conceded.

  “Mom, I might have to ask you for other favors,” I said.

  “You know the saying about favors; ‘Friends come over and help you move,’” she quoted.

  “’Good friends come over at night and help you move out,’” I replied.

  “’Family comes over at night and helps you move bodies,’” she laughed as she finished.

  Mom stood and said, “I have to get back down to the ER.”

  She hugged me at the door and said in my ear, “I’m glad we had this talk.”

  Dad was waiting outside his office when I returned from lunch.

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  “Your patient with the infected hand. It was a curse, more than an infection. That’s why the antibiotics the other hospitals gave him didn’t work.”

  I ran over the sequence in my mind: the arrogant little man poking me and my instant reaction. Could that old railroad spike have held a curse? No, there had been no magic involved.

  “I don’t know how he was cursed. He probably pissed off somebody who wanted to take advantage of his injury to get rid of him.”

  “I removed the curse and eliminated the infection. He’ll recover.”

  “Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

  Dad nodded at his door. “He wants to talk to you.”

  We stepped inside. Rooster was sitting in a chair next to his bed. He looked much better than before he was admitted.

  Rooster smiled at me and wriggled his fingers. “This is a miracle. I don’t know how to thank you.” He struggled to rise to his feet, using the IV pole as a support. He shuffled over to stand in front of us.

  He reached into the pocket of his robe with his free hand and pulled out the BITCHCoin. “You deserve this.”

  I held up a hand to refuse, then remembered a line from a TV show. Something about a devil making bargains.

  “Mr. Riley, what do you desire?” I asked in my best ‘tell me your secrets’ voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you could really buy anything—anything at all—with that coin. What would you wish for?”

  He stepped close, up into my personal space, and looked up into my face. “There is one thing I want more than anything in the world.”

  Gesturing for me to lean down, he whispered his greatest desire into my ear.

  I straightened up and smiled. “I think we can work something out,” I said as I took the coin from his hands.

  28

  The next day I was back at the hospital. The new administrator recommended by Briar was settling into the job.

  Erika Penance was curt, abrasive, and incredibly efficient. She was also one of the rare humans wh
o were aware of the supernatural world—a necessity since our hospital was staffed with werewolves, Wiccans, and magicians.

  She sat across from my desk. She was in her early thirties, wearing an expensive business suit, upswept hairstyle, and shoes that cost more than my entire outfit. At one time I would have been intimidated by her. Now she worked for me.

  “…so that’s why we immediately take care of anyone who presents a verified BITCHCoin.”

  “What does this BITCHCoin look like?”

  I placed an activated coin on the desk and showed her how to use the app to verify the coin.

  “And after the patient is discharged?” she asked. “Should we bank the coin or cash it in?”

  “The coins are returned to either me, or Mason, or Kuga. We are the bank for these coins.”

  “The Wall Street Journal said that these coins are now valued at over a hundred thousand dollars each. There’s talk of the government outlawing them.”

  “Briar said that they’re classified as artwork, whose value is determined on the free market. There’s ample precedent in tax law to cover this interpretation.”

  Erika scrolled through the messages on her phone, offers of money, dates with celebrities, and magic. She scrolled down, stopped, then scrolled back up. “Is this true? A date with Leonardo Di—”

  “It’s true,” I interrupted, “but I wouldn’t take him up on the offer. He’s a notorious playboy.”

  Erika licked her lips like a child in an ice cream shop. Then she reluctantly handed the coin back to me. “Anyway, it’s not my coin, so I can’t spend it.”

  I weighed the coin in my hand and considered Erika’s comment. Tossing magic coins around like beads at a Mardi Gras parade would be a bad idea; on the other hand, Mason wanted the coins to get into wider circulation.

  Decision made, I handed the coin to Erika. “Consider this your sign-on bonus,” I said. “Welcome to the group.”

  Her hand clenched reflexively around the coin.

  “Thank you,” she said. Then she tilted her head and looked at me suspiciously. “You’re not going to warn me about wasting my coin on a celebrity date?”