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

by Veronica Singer

  Unlike my mom, her children didn’t have enough control to keep from shifting. Clothes ripped and the now-useless weapons were dropped as the transformation into wolf occurred.

  Some screamed in pain at the transformation. It always hurt the first few times, and many of these cubs were incredibly young.

  The new pack leapt to confront the surrounding horde, ripping and slashing with abandon. Body parts, blood, and viscera flew as they attacked.

  Mason lowered me to the ground and hugged me from behind. Mom’s expression soured as she saw how happy he made me.

  Mom tilted her head, ready to bark out an order, but I stopped her with a headshake.

  “You promised. No one attacks Mason, Mike, or any of my people.”

  Mom sniffed the air. “No problem, Luna.”

  She opened her arms and said, “Come here, guys, and give Angela a hug if you want to live.”

  Fangs, claws, and gleaming amber eyes would have made almost any man hesitate. My men were made of sterner stuff.

  Mike hugged Mom quickly, then darted away at her laugh.

  “Your turn, Mason,” said Mom as she moved in for a hug. She tried to squeeze him with werewolf strength, only to find that his strength matched hers.

  “Reminds me of Luna’s hugs,” Mason said with a laugh. He returned the hug with just as much force.

  Mom whispered something in Mason’s ear, too low for me to hear. Mason grunted and squeezed harder.

  After a few moments of struggle, Mom leaned back and looked in his eyes. “Just making sure you’re strong enough for my girl.”

  As they broke apart, a wave of relief washed through me. The interaction could have gone badly, but it seemed they were both maturing.

  Maturing? Lord, I sounded like I was their mother, instead of wife and daughter.

  The logistics changed with the addition of my brothers. Mason was unable to unleash lightning or flame spells because he might hurt my family. Mike had no long-range weapons and no werewolf healing ability, so he stayed near us, using his magic silver dagger to behead any demon who slipped past my brothers.

  After one particularly vicious fight, the zombified humans managed to trap and beat down a wolf. They had isolated my brother, overcoming his fangs and claws with sheer numbers.

  “Floyd!” screamed Mom as she zipped past me with inhuman speed. Before we could react, she was amid the horde of zombies. Mom picked up one skinny, red-eyed woman by neck and thigh, then spread her arms. The body split in half, splattering everyone nearby with blood and entrails, a display so savage that the surrounding zombies turned away. Mom was on her third victim when Mike and Mason arrived.

  Together, they made quick work of the zombies piled on top of my brother.

  At the bottom of the pile was Floyd. He had shifted back to human as he lost consciousness. Mom cradled him in her arms and ran back to me. Mike and Mason retreated carefully, watching Mom’s back.

  Mom laid Floyd at my feet, then straightened his broken limbs. His head was misshapen where something had bashed his skull; bites of flesh were taken out of his legs, arms, and torso; and his heartbeat was slowing.

  “Do that trick with your moonlight,” Mom pleaded.

  “I don’t know if it will help,” I said. “He’s hurt worse than any were I’ve ever helped.”

  Mason bent down next to Floyd. “I can help—”

  Mom backhanded Mason, sending him flying. Instead of sprawling out, Mason turned his flight into a tumble and rolled to his feet. His broken nose trickled blood down his face.

  “Don’t use that magic on my children!”

  Mason’s eyes glowed and magic gathered in massive amounts. Mom snarled as the stench of magic flooded the street.

  Mike stepped between them and shouted, “You’re both idiots. We need to fight the demons, not each other!”

  Floyd gasped for breath, convulsed, then stilled. I knelt down awkwardly and placed my right hand on his head and my left on his chest, over his heart. Moonlight flowed from my hands and flooded into his body.

  “Mason,” I ordered, “please use your oxygen mask spell to inflate his lungs.” For a microsecond, Mason froze, then started mumbling nonsense as I activated the oxygen mask spell.

  Covered by Mason’s magic, I discreetly zapped Floyd’s still heart with lightning. It took three tries, but experience with my pack had taught me how to restart a heart.

  Finally, Floyd’s heart beat and he gasped for breath. Under my fingers, his skull twisted as the shattered bones moved back into place—not driven by magic, but by werewolf healing.

  I leaned back, exhausted. Mom grabbed Floyd’s arm and realized it was still broken.

  “Why didn’t you fix him?”

  “Mom, I did all I could. He’s too young, not used to shifting. If I give him more energy, he’ll burn out.”

  Mom’s face clouded and her fangs extended. Before she could attack, I continued. “He’ll live and he’ll recover at the next full moon. But he’s going to be laid up for several weeks.”

  “Mason, can you take him inside so the doctor can look after him?”

  Mason nodded. At a gesture, invisible sheaths of air formed around Floyd’s body, keeping his limbs in place while he was floated into the house.

  Mom gritted her teeth and let Mason use magic to help her child.

  Four more times, my little brothers were overcome by the possessed humans. Each time, Mom threw herself into the fight to rescue them, and each time, I was able to help them recover, at the cost of enormous amounts of lunar energy.

  We were killing or disabling the demons at a ten-to-one rate, but each time they injured one of us, the odds got worse.

  I was the first to notice the pattern. “Mom, you need to call back your two youngest litters.”

  “Why would I call back the Foxtrot and Gulf groups?”

  “Because they’re the ones getting injured. They’re too young, too slow to evade the demons, too weak to resist their attacks.”

  “I won’t do it,” she said emphatically. “They chose this fight. It would shame them to be called back like puppies.”

  “Dammit,” I snarled, “even the tiniest sliver of moonlight would make us twice as strong.”

  Mike turned to Mason. “Can’t you whip up some moonlight?”

  “That’s not possible,” said Mason. “The only moonlight is on the far side of the—”

  Mason froze in place, eyes focused on the distance, and started mumbling equations.

  Mom reached out a claw to poke him, saying, “Wake up, you useless magician!”

  I grabbed her and tugged her away. “Let him think.”

  We waited and the minutes dragged on. An occasional demon-possessed human would make it through the packs of werewolves surrounding us, only to be dispatched by Mike or Mom.

  Lord, how long has it been? Seems like we’ve been fighting for days. But no; it had only been a bit over an hour.

  Mason finally shook himself awake. “I think I can retrieve some moonlight. Mike, give me your portal coin.”

  Mike waited for my nod before surrendering the coin, an action not unnoticed by Mom.

  Mike handed the coin to Mason. “I’m going to have to go into a trance to do this.” He looked at Mike. “The spell might destroy the coin.”

  “If it’ll help Luna, do it,” said Mike.

  Unless actively hiding, magicians can judge how much energy other magicians have available, kind of like how fighters can size each other up after one round. Mason was almost tapped out. His face was wrinkled, and his limbs were skinny. If I could see him in normal light, I was sure his blond hair would be white.

  Hell, we were all almost tapped out. Mom was bedraggled, with blood-drenched hair and torn scrubs hanging from her body; Mike’s arm was trembling and coated in blood to his shoulder from using the silver dagger on demons; I was drained of almost all of my moonlight and magic from healing my brothers.

  Mason gave me a look that contained multiple emoti
ons: regret that we hadn’t had more time, anger at the demons who continued to hound us, and love.

  I’ll always remember the love.

  32

  Mason’s eyes glazed over, and he raised his hands and clapped them together, holding the portal coin sandwiched between his palms.

  Then he did several impossible things at once.

  A portal appeared above us, a disk of magic about twelve feet in diameter, floating horizontally.

  That’s impossible. Portals must be perpendicular to the gravity field.

  Portals are a slice of nothingness; thinner than a demon’s promise. Almost not there at all.

  Mason split the portal like I would slice a biscuit for buttering.

  That’s impossible. Portals are thinner than atoms.

  The upper slice of the portal raced into the sky, leaving its twin behind. Traveling faster than a meteor, it was thousands of miles away in seconds.

  That’s impossible. Portals can’t be moved around like that.

  The portal coin grew hotter and hotter, until the smell of roasting flesh came from Mason’s palms. Still, he persisted.

  As we waited, the remaining demons fought even harder to reach us. They were held back by a wall of snarling werewolves—held back for now. Inch by inch, the demons pushed inward, closing the distance between us and them.

  The section of the encircling ring protected by the youngest litter was bulging inward. The demons were winning on that front.

  “Mike, let’s go help the pups,” I ordered. “Mom, stay here and protect Mason.”

  “I’ll go. You need to stay here to heal my sons.”

  “Mom, you’re beat,” I responded. “And I have no more energy for healing, but enough for killing. Stay here.”

  As we raced away, I heard Mom mutter, “I’m spending my life babysitting magicians. He’d better be worth it.”

  Despite my belly, I was still deadly, even against demon-possessed humans.

  For an instant, my sibs snarled at Mike. The silver blade was a danger to them. Then they caught Mom’s scent on him and calmed. Mike decapitated a demon with a single swing, and they roared approval and turned back to the battle.

  From hundreds of possessed humans, the demon horde had been whittled down to dozens of fighters.

  The problem was that the remaining fighters were the best of the demons—those that had chosen stronger hosts and were craftier than the others. They had unearthly stamina, while we were getting more and more tired.

  My eyes blanked for a second, then everything was in full color. The dawn was approaching, a faint light in the east. It was finally light enough to allow color vision.

  Too bad these possessed humans won’t burst into flames like vampires.

  I was attacked from behind. A strong arm wound around my neck in a chokehold as my attacker’s other hand tried to push my head forward in a neck-breaking move.

  I felt like a babe as this attacker squeezed my neck. Two other demons raced toward us as I was held helpless.

  Then their motions slowed, like they were moving at half-speed. A wave of energy filled my body. My attacker’s encircling arm broke under my grip; I crushed the bones and muscle like they were breadsticks.

  I twisted away and swiped with my right claws, expecting to scar or blind him. Instead, my claws flew through his neck, vertebrae, and spinal cord to behead him.

  The glow in his eyes faded as his head flew away.

  I had all the time in the world to turn and face the other two attackers, spinning and bracing for their attack before the big man’s head hit the ground.

  Was that fear in their demon-red eyes? Two more heads joined the first in less than a second.

  Another attacker was on Mike’s back, a barefoot female with a beehive hairdo. I peeled her off as if she were a two-year-old clinging to Daddy. Her head joined the others.

  A second of respite gave me time to look up. Over my head was a glowing circle about the size of a frisbee. From the circle emanated concentrated moonlight, stronger and purer than any I had ever felt.

  I had to fight to keep the excess energy from burning me out. I pushed it out through my pack links, reinvigorating my pack. Their fatigue washed away, and tired muscles bulged as they returned to the fray with wild abandon.

  Still too much energy. I shunted a large percentage to my invisible moonstone amulet, which absorbed the moonlight magic like a sponge. In less than a minute, the moonstone was brimming with energy, filled to overflowing. I realized Mason had made the distant portal huge and the near portal tiny. It was like a magnifying glass as big as Texas was focused down to my little spotlight.

  Still too much energy; my moonstone and pack were saturated. I held my hands up and lunar light blasted out from my palms. Under the influence of this light, my siblings were reenergized. Wounds healed, muscles swelled even more, and fangs and claws grew to ludicrous size.

  Before our combined strength, all the hordes of hell were helpless. Body parts flew as my werewolves tore into the remaining demons with abandon.

  I tilted my head back and howled. All the wolves halted and joined me, filling the air with a beautiful sound.

  Instead of attacking while we howled, the demons froze in place. For once, these mental parasites were facing an enemy they couldn’t subdue, couldn’t trick, and couldn’t overpower with human puppets.

  The demons finally knew the meaning of fear. The stench of terrified prey was suddenly in the air.

  It only took one to start the flood. A huge African-American man in a tattered business suit said in an inhuman voice, “Fuck it, I’m out of here.”

  The red glow in his eyes brightened, then coalesced into a single glowing light hovering in front of his head.

  The bobbing ball of malevolence jerked in a zig-zag path as it fled. He must have been the equivalent of a demon lieutenant, because the other demons followed suit.

  In seconds, all the possessed were abandoned by their demon invaders like broken toys, leaving behind about fifty survivors.

  All the survivors were injured in some fashion. I helped free a teenager from under a pile of bodies and passed her to one of my pack. He carried the girl to the center of our compound, where Dr. Patrizia had set up a triage area.

  I continued around the periphery, sniffing out the living from the dead and guiding them to assistance. In some cases, I was able to use my healing, cauterizing dangerous bleeds, checking for concussions, and easing broken bones into place for emergency splints. Not much, but first aid was the best I could do in these circumstances.

  I barely noticed that some of the victims had taken out cameras to film the disaster.

  I made a full circle, coming back to the business-suited man who had hosted the demon lieutenant.

  I stepped close to him, feeling safe now that he was no longer demon-driven. I touched his arm and probed, finding bruises, sprains, and multiple cuts, but no life-threatening injuries.

  The man swayed on his feet and stared at me through red-rimmed eyes. “What’s going on? Am I dead? Are you an angel?”

  “There’s been an accident,” I said, pulling my hand away. “Are you injured?”

  He stomped his feet, one at a time, then ran his hands down his arms and over his torso. “I don’t think so. The last thing I remember was checking into my shift at the casino.”

  “Why did you ask if I was an angel?” I rubbed my belly. “You ever see a pregnant angel?”

  “Because of that damn halo over your head.”

  I glanced up at the glowing disk of concentrated moonlight that floated overhead. The thing had followed me around.

  Then the halo winked out.

  “Never mind, it’s gone now. Must have been, like, a side effect of my accident.”

  Looking around at the scene, I saw dead bodies everywhere, wolves, and naked women. I gave him the excuse he needed. “You’ll probably see a lot of weird things until you recover. Just wait here and wait for a doctor to check you out.” />
  I turned away to move to help the next person, then the implication of my ‘halo’ fading away hit. I rushed to Mason at werewolf speed.

  I skidded to a stop, wondering for a second where I had lost my shoes, then shaking away the irrelevant thought.

  Mason lay on the ground, his head cradled in Mom’s lap. His body was withered, and his hair and long beard was now pure white. His eyes stared blindly at the rising sun. He raised his horribly burned hands and reached for the dawn. A tiny puddle of melted gold was all that remained of the portal coin.

  I kneeled and ran my fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his face. His stick-thin arms dropped as he reacted to my touch. He looked worse now than he had after his first fight with Raymond.

  I tried to probe him with magic, but it bounced off his protective shields. No way to treat him or feed him energy unless he willed it.

  Mom’s nose scrunched up at the scent of magic. She looked at me suspiciously. I was tired of the lies and games, so I opened my mouth to tell her the truth. “Mom, I’m—”

  Mike touched my shoulder to silence me. When had he arrived?

  “Sorry, Mrs. White,” he said. “I used one of Mason’s spells.” He pulled his shirt open to show the tattoo that Mason had inked on his body. “It helps me breathe around toxic gases. Guess I forgot to turn it off.”

  The smell faded. Mom nodded and said, “You need to watch that around us.” She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Luckily, I’ve spent a lot of time around the stench of magicians. My cubs would react differently.”

  Was Mom telling me that she knew?

  I shook off the thought. Mason’s breathing grew labored and he stilled.

  Too many things to do. I pulled out my phone and dialed the hospital.

  “This is Luna White. I want every ambulance you can get to come to 5443 Mockingbird Lane in Henderson. There’s been a mass-casualty accident.”

  The idiot on the other end started to argue. Fangs grew with my frustration. Then Mom pulled the phone from my hand and spoke into it calmly.

  “Hi, Grace. This is Angela. Yes, it’s true. Collision with lots of people involved. There’s some military vehicles here, some buses full of people. Don’t wait for 911; get the ambulances here as soon as possible.”