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

by Veronica Singer

  “The coin is yours to do with as you wish. I don’t try to tell you how to spend your salary, I won’t tell you what to trade the coin for.”

  Erika’s eyes narrowed. “The coins always come back to you. What do you trade for the coin?”

  “Not just me. If you need the services of the best magician on the planet, you trade with Mason. If you want something that requires stealth and ingenuity, you trade with Kuga. If you need violence and mayhem, you come to me.

  “On the other hand, if you want to trade it off for cash, or a date, that’s up to you.”

  Erika stared at the coin in her palm. “You know I have ambitions beyond running your hospital? Perhaps running for public office some day.”

  “Erika, I knew you were ambitious when we hired you. Just ensure that you do this job to the best of your ability and set it up so that a trusted person can take over when you decide to leave. If you can run this hospital for, let’s say, five years, I’ll happily endorse you for office.” I leaned back and gave her my bargaining look. “In exchange for that coin.”

  Erika gave me a genuine smile, one I’d never seen her express before. She nodded and said, “That’s worth more than a date with any movie star.”

  After our meeting, I went to Mrs. MacDonald’s VIP room. Today was a good day for her. Bright eyes magnified by her thick bifocals regarded me with amusement.

  “Hello, Mrs. MacDonald. I’m Luna White. You may not remember—”

  “Of course I remember you! You went to school with Brian.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “I heard you run the place now. From cheerleader to CEO.”

  “You know why you’re here?”

  “Treatment for my arthritis. That’s what that young Dr. White said.”

  Hearing my father referred to as “young” was disconcerting, but I continued. “You seem to be doing better. How are we treating you?”

  “Well, I’m getting bored with all the yogurt they’ve been feeding me. But I feel a little better every day.”

  “That’s for extra calcium. You’ll be able to taper off soon.” I examined her with a magician’s vision. Her bone density was higher than before, but she still needed more improvement before we could attempt to remold her joints and ligaments. The low-grade spells that encouraged calcium accumulation were working as intended.

  There were also some new spells—ones that encouraged arterial plaque to dissolve. Dad had been working overtime on Mrs. MacDonald. Her arteries were now as resilient as a woman in her mid-thirties. The same spell appeared to also have reduced some of the plaques in her brain.

  Brian MacDonald popped his head in the door. “Hi, Mom. Ready for your walk?”

  Mrs. MacDonald struggled to rise but refused my assistance. “No, thank you, dear. I need to get up by myself.”

  Two physical therapists came in behind Brian with a walker. They followed Mrs. MacDonald as she pushed her way through the door.

  Brian hung back for a minute. “Luna, I wanted to thank you for all your help with Mom. She’s been lucid and moving around much better since she’s been here.”

  “You’re welcome. But it’s not necessary to thank me. I owe your mom a lot for the help she gave me in high school.”

  “I’m still grateful. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you, just ask.”

  “Well, since you offered, there might be something you could help me with…”

  Briefing Erika, visiting Mrs. MacDonald, and other administrative work had made for a long day. But the way was now clear for me to step away from this job for maternity leave.

  I checked the schedule and saw that Dad was due to start an overnight shift in the emergency room at nine p.m. As a senior doctor, he didn’t have to work the ER, but he insisted.

  The ER was more crowded than normal, nearly overflowing with patients.

  Mom had called down more of the cubs to act as security. Under the glare of a werewolf, only the most insane would act up.

  Still, in every crowd, there was one idiot. A scraggly, mid-thirties man, stinking of drugs and desperation, pulled out a handgun. His left arm hung limply at his side.

  I could have disarmed him or used magic to render the bullets inert but held back. This was Mom’s area.

  “I saw that knocked-up foreign bitch get taken back before me! I’ve been here for hours. She’s probably here to drop a goddamn anchor baby!”

  Mom nodded at Carver. In less than a second, Carver had removed the pistol from the man’s hand, breaking several of his fingers. Carver’s hand was around his throat and he was dangling from his grip.

  “Carver,” said Mom, “don’t injure him any more than you have to. We’ll just have to patch him up before calling the cops.”

  Mom winked at me. “We don’t want any patients hurting themselves in the ER. It’s bad publicity for the hospital.”

  Carver set the man back on his feet. He wobbled for a few seconds, reached for the gun that Carver held, then froze at Carver’s glare.

  Carver pointed to a chair at the back of the ER. Mom pulled the man’s file and pointedly put it at the bottom of the stack of admission paperwork.

  Dad stepped in and told Mom, “I’ll take the next patient now.”

  Before Mom could call the next patient, an EMT crew pushed through the doors with an elderly woman on a cart. Her face was slack on one side and her left arm flopped loosely. Probably a stroke victim.

  Dad backed through the swinging doors and motioned the crew to take the woman inside immediately.

  Another doctor came out to accept the next ER patient.

  I stepped up to Mom’s desk and said, “I wanted to say goodbye to you and Dad. It looks like he’s too busy tonight. I’m going on maternity leave today.”

  “We’ll see you soon,” said Mom as she rubbed my belly.

  The EMT team, a man and a woman, came back to Mom’s desk to turn in paperwork. They looked different than the usual crews who serviced our area.

  I checked their name badges: Davis and Holmes. “You guys are from North Las Vegas. Why did you come to Moonrise? You must have passed three other hospitals on the way here.”

  The woman looked embarrassed. “We knew Dr. White was here tonight. He’s gotten a reputation as the best in the city.”

  “You knew my dad was working tonight?”

  She got an ‘uh-oh’ look on her face as she put it together. The random stranger chatting with her in the ER referring to Dr. White as “dad,” plus the obvious pregnancy, told her that I was the CEO of the hospital.

  Her colleague didn’t catch on. “She’s got his schedule pasted on the dashboard. Hell, half the ambulances in Las Vegas have this hospital as first choice—” He cut off suddenly as he caught the look his partner gave him.

  “Are you going to transfer her? She might not survive another ride.”

  “No, Davis, we’re not going to transfer your mom.”

  “How did you know that was my mom?”

  Oops. Werewolf senses had let me identify the relationship.

  Then my mom interrupted, “She saw the name on the entrance paperwork and guessed.”

  “Right. Just a lucky guess,” I said.

  Holmes’ phone beeped and he said, “We have another call, Davis. We have to go.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ll make sure your mom gets the best care.”

  “Thank you.”

  I went back to the examination rooms and found Dad. He was examining the stroke victim.

  “I thought you went home?”

  “Just wanted to see if there’s anything you need to help this patient.”

  “I’ve administered anticoagulants. That’s all that modern medicine can do for her.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Dad turned to the nurse and asked her to restock some supplies.

  “Can you help her with something beyond modern medicine?”

  “I’m tapped out on magical energy. She won’t last until I can recharge at dawn.”

  I hugg
ed Dad and sent him extra energy. He tried to turn it away, but it was like smoke trying to block a firehose. In seconds, he held as much magical energy as he was capable of absorbing.

  “That’s amazing,” he said. He turned back to his patient and started murmuring spells to completely unclog her arteries, clear away dead nerve tissue and remove clots in her brain.

  When he was done, he hugged me again. “Now you need to go home and rest.”

  “I could stay and help. You look pretty busy tonight.”

  “No way. You need to rest, and the babies need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Okay, Dad. I’m going.”

  At the door he stopped me with a word. “Luna, remember, you can’t save them all.”

  “No, Dad. But I can save this one.”

  29

  Three nights later, my phone pinged twice—two messages received. I sat up in bed, read the messages, and then shook Mason awake.

  “The attack will be in less than an hour.”

  Mason sat up immediately.

  “Okay, let’s send out the alert.”

  My phone suddenly went to “No Carrier,” and refused to connect.

  But werewolves don’t need cellphones. I sent a command to my pack, everyone but Logan and Christopher. They were alert in an instant and headed to our meeting point.

  I had slept in my combat maternity wear. Okay, black long-sleeved top and black stretch pants. I slid my feet into thick-soled slippers. Black, of course.

  As Mason and I stepped out of our door, all the lights in the neighborhood went out. On the horizon, the lights of Las Vegas continued to glow.

  Mason muttered a spell and his eyes glowed in the magical spectrum as his night-vision spell activated. My eyes widened to maximum and the starlit night shifted to black and white mode.

  From twenty feet away, Mike said in a low voice, “I’m here.”

  “How did you know to come out?” I asked him. “You couldn’t have felt the pack link.”

  “I saw it,” he replied. “A flash of light as bright as a lightning strike, with no thunder.”

  Mike was wearing the railgun backpack with the rifle section attached.

  “I thought that thing was out of ammo?”

  “Mason made up more ammo for me yesterday. He also did a magic trick on the batteries to make them stronger and lighter. I have twice as much ammo as the old pack, and it’s twenty pounds lighter.”

  “I don’t know if using silver ammo around my pack is a good idea. It might set them off.”

  “We’re not using silver. Mason made these of solid steel. They pack a hell of a punch now.”

  I hugged Mike. He shivered in fear. “You’re doing that thing.”

  “What thing?” I asked as I stepped back.

  “Putting your scent on me so your pack doesn’t rip me to shreds if things get crazy.”

  “Think of it as insurance,” I said.

  We started walking toward the center of the compound, our designated meeting point.

  Mason asked, “How much time until the attack?”

  “About thirty minutes now.”

  “You received two messages. Did they both give the same time?”

  “One said three fifteen, one was three thirty.”

  “One message had to be from Brian, because you saved his mom. Who sent the second message?”

  “Is that important? I have other sources in the government.”

  “Now I’m curious, too,” said Mike.

  “Fine. I made a deal with Rooster. I offered him what he wanted most in the world.”

  “That would be?”

  “He wanted to grow four inches,” I said.

  Mason and Mike exchanged a look. “What guy wouldn’t?” asked Mike. Then they both laughed.

  “He wants to grow four inches taller! You men and your dick jokes are annoying.”

  “How’s your vision?” asked Mason to change the subject.

  “Clear as day,” said Mike. He scanned the sky quickly. “There’s an Apache helicopter up there at ten thousand feet.” He aimed his railgun at the helicopter. “I might be able to take them out from here.”

  Mason shook his head. “It’s too far. You’ll just be wasting ammo.”

  “It could be a training flight or an innocent,” I said. “We’re very close to McCarren airport.”

  “They’re flying with no lights on,” said Mike. “I think we should treat it as hostile.”

  “What can it do?”

  “It’s got a sensor suite that lets it see in the dark, infrared sensors that can track a mouse, a M230 chain gun, and Hellfire missiles.”

  “I don’t know what any of that means,” I admitted. “What can it do?”

  “It can track all of us from up there, and loose enough firepower to destroy every house in this compound in less than a minute.”

  “But there would be no way to hide that much destruction from the public,” I said.

  Mason’s fingers glowed for a second. “The sensors now show us as being nearly a mile from here.”

  “Like what Luna did in Alaska,” said Mike.

  “And it’s the only one up there,” said Mason. “What’s the range of its weapons?”

  “Effective range of the gun is 1500 meters; maximum range is 4000 meters. The missiles are longer range, but from 10,000 feet, they’re not accurate.”

  “So it’s too far away to attack us now. That means it’s for mop-up or—”

  “A distraction,” said Mike and I at the same time.

  Near the center of the compound, my pack was gathered in a loose group, everyone facing out, ready to confront the enemy.

  We closed in on my pack members. Mike and Mason hung back as I entered the huddle. In times of danger, werewolves need to feel the touch of their alpha.

  “Are you all ready?” I said brightly. I slapped my hands together and rubbed them briskly.

  “What do you expect, alpha?” asked one.

  “They’ll probably send in humans first. Try not to kill them, unless necessary. We don’t need the bad publicity. Then I expect an attack using magic.”

  The entire pack growled at the mention of magic. To calm them, I said, “You have free rein to kill any magic user who attacks you.” The growls turned to laughs. “Only if they attack,” I emphasized, rubbing my huge belly. “I’m attached to Mason and Mike. They both stink of magic, but they’re on our side.”

  “Fight fire with fire and magic with magic,” said Matthew.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Our enemies use foul magics to try to kill us; attack at the dark of the moon when they think we are weak; use technology to compensate for weak senses.” I scrunched my nose in disgust. “They stoop so low as to use silver bullets.”

  I called up moonlight magic, drawing upon an almost limitless stockpile gathered in my moonstone amulet—crafted by Mason and blessed by the goddess of the moon.

  The source of our abilities, moonlight magic is the one form that doesn’t trigger werewolf anger. I fed my pack energy through our pack links, stopping short of triggering a transformation into their wolf forms.

  The effect was immediate. Muscles swelled, bones hardened, skin toughened, and eyes glowed as all were brought up to the power level they normally enjoyed at the height of the moon.

  “But we are not weak. Together, we are strong. Let them throw humans and their technology, foul magic, and demons at us. Luna pack will destroy them all!”

  As one, all drew a deep breath to howl. Lord, how I wanted to howl with them. We could shout that aircraft out of the sky, bring fear to all within a dozen miles, let our enemies know that Luna pack was ready.

  I held my hand up to stop them. “Not now, packmates,” I said with regret. “We will howl victory, but only after our enemies are dead and eaten.”

  Nods all around. The logic was obvious.

  We left the pack at the clubhouse and headed to the main gate. From the center of the compound, they could race to any point in our
neighborhood in seconds.

  We were confident that the attack would come through the main gate. We paid for it by wasting precious seconds when the walls were blown out at three points around the compound.

  Before the bricks finished falling, we were racing back to the center. Mason and I were neck and neck, with Mike trailing behind by a few yards. In the seconds it took us to arrive, armored vehicles had crashed over the rubble and raced toward our position.

  We skidded to a stop. I stood between my pack and Mason. He raised his hands to take out the armored vehicles, then froze.

  I blinked as webs of magic wrapped around him, locking him into place. He gritted his teeth and fought back, but it was taking all his energy to resist.

  The armored cars slammed to a halt and hatches opened. From the vehicle to our right marched a group of middle-aged women. I counted thirteen of them. They were stripped naked, apart from gas masks. One short, dumpy woman had Cyrillic tattoos and gray body hair. Baba Yaga’s granddaughter had returned, and this time she had brought help.

  The sight of gas masks was enough to make me call out. “They’re going to use gas and flashbangs!”

  Scant warning, but it was enough for Mason and Mike. I triggered my gas mask spell, as did Mike. Mason gave me his ‘I’ve got this’ nod and continued his struggle against the full coven of witches.

  Less than a second later, multiple rounds of M-84 stun grenades hit the ground near us—some screaming at 150 decibels, some emitting tear and narcotic gas, some flashing brighter than the sun to blind.

  Both Mike and I covered our eyes before the flashbangs went off, depending on our gas mask and noise protection spells to protect us. Mason was protected by a complicated spell that encased him in fresh air and dimmed all light that entered. As each flashbang went off, his shield became a silver ball, reflecting excess light away from him.

  My pack was not so lucky. They were blinded and screamed in agony at the loudness of the sonic attack. They could recover quickly but needed precious moments—moments that the gas attack would not allow.

  The pack made a tactical mistake, and raced to attack the coven, the magic users. As they neared the chanting group, a new shield popped into place, formed of solid air. My pack bounced off the shield. Then threw themselves at it again and again, all while holding their breath to avoid the narcotic gas.