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

by Veronica Singer

  I pointed a finger, a rude gesture almost anywhere. “You’re a slimy CIA asset.”

  He breathed a tiny sigh of relief. “I work at the cultural attache’s office. I don’t know what you’re talking about. What makes you think I could be with the CIA?”

  I pushed down the urge to attack him here. Our last encounter with demons had resulted in hundreds of deaths and millions in property damage, and had put my husband in a long-term coma. Not an encounter I would like to repeat.

  “Besides the stench? I saw you ordering the Marines to stand down when we were trying to reach safety.”

  Mr. Jonathan steepled his fingers together and said, “Unfortunately, we deemed you too great a risk to our diplomatic efforts.”

  Prince Abdul snapped off a string of sentences in Arabic while pointing an accusing finger at me. Mr. Jonathan nodded along with his comments, while Lady Birdsong and the ambassador maintained their blank diplomatic looks.

  I looked at Mike, who was listening intently. That’s when I realized I was the only one in the room that didn’t speak Arabic.

  Two can play that game. I crossed my arms and turned my head away from the diatribe to face Bradley. “Tell your pet human to put that finger away or I’ll bite it off,” I said. I spoke in Fae, using the mode reserved for lovers or mortal enemies.

  A quick evaluating look as he decided whether to pretend he didn’t understand, then he growled, “And you’d do well to keep your pet priest under control.” He made a calming gesture to Prince Abdul.

  “Maybe we should ask him to bless this meeting,” I responded. “This time you don’t have any place to run to. I’ve cornered demons in the past.”

  “You know what I am?”

  “Most humans can’t sniff you bastards out,” I said. “But werewolves and men of faith don’t have that problem.”

  I examined him with both werewolf and magician senses. Corpulent face, blues eyes tinged with hellfire, pudgy body, normal human teeth, and well-manicured hands with the standard number of fingers. I breathed an internal sigh of relief at that. His demon brother Marcus had modified the human body he inhabited to give himself six fingers on each hand, making him capable of very complicated spells.

  “That’s a man of faith?” he snorted with contempt. “The slightest spell can end his life.” Then he laughed. “I’m minded to cast that spell. Maybe your pet priest can find his way to heaven.”

  I looked away, as if in contemplation. “I’ve always wondered if you monsters felt the pain your host feels. Would it hurt to eviscerate you?” He tensed when I asked about pain. Good info to have. “The slightest slice of my claws and you can find your way back to hell.”

  He froze for a second, then plowed on. “And risk an international incident? A crazed woman kills the CIA station chief in the UK Embassy. That would cause all kinds of headlines and ruin you and your company.”

  “You really think I care about my reputation?” I took a long, deep breath through my nose, imprinting his scent in memory. “Anyway, it doesn’t have to be here and now. I can find you anywhere on Earth.”

  I took another breath as his heart rate spiked and fear surged. I gave him my most toothsome smile.

  “And we will find you. You should tuck your pointed tail under and haul ass back to hell.”

  Time to change tactics. I switched to English. “My apologies. It’s incredibly rude to speak in a language that excludes others.” I gave a pointed glare at Prince Abdul.

  His nose wrinkled as if at a bad smell, but he nodded and said, in English, “I can speak English. I demand the return of the djinni you stole from my home!”

  25

  “You lost a genie?” I gave him a puzzled look.

  “You stole the vessel for my djinni,” said Prince Abdul.

  “Vessel? You mean like a magic lamp?” I asked. “I haven’t seen any lamps around here. Maybe you could try to find another in the souk?”

  Mike interrupted. “What makes you think we took anything from your home?” He furrowed his brow and said, “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever been in your home. Isn’t theft a serious accusation in your country? Shouldn’t you have some kind of proof?”

  “Yeah,” added Manny, “do you have any video?”

  “All the cameras in my residence failed to capture the assailants. But we have multiple witnesses who saw two American men and a fur-covered female demon invade my home, steal the vessel, and kidnap two of my guests. The team killed many, many guards.”

  “‘A fur-covered female demon,’” scoffed Mike. “Are you sure your witnesses weren’t hitting the hookah?”

  “And we stole a fucking genie?” said Manny. “You mean a ‘three wishes’ real live genie? That’s the craziest thing I ever heard of.”

  “The fur-covered demon was you!” snapped Prince Abdul, once again pointing his finger at me.

  I ran a palm down my bare arm. “I’m hardly fur-covered,” I said, “and I don’t like waxing. As for being a demon, I think others here would make better candidates.” I stared at Mr. Jonathan.

  “So, you’re saying we broke into a heavily defended compound,” said Mike, “killed or disabled dozens of armed guards, stole this ‘genie’ of yours, rescued two American citizens you had kidnapped, then escaped past another set of guards.” He laughed loudly. “That sounds like the plot for a Mission: Impossible film. You really expect people to believe this story?”

  “I had to bury thirty-seven guards! Many were disfigured, and one was beheaded like an animal!”

  “Didn’t most of them shoot each other?” I said, then covered my mouth. “I mean, if this really happened.”

  “She admits it!”

  “She admits nothing,” said Mike, “except that she knows Saudis have a bad habit of shooting each other.”

  “Please,” interrupted Lady Birdsong. “Mike, if you could give us your version of events.”

  “Well, Luna and I heard that one of her family members and his daughter had been kidnapped in Saudi Arabia. We arrived here, met up with my old squad mate, Manny, and started searching.

  “Luckily, we found Logan and his daughter on the street. Logan was badly injured, so we raced to the US Embassy to get him medical assistance. The embassy, under orders from Mr. Jonathan, refused us sanctuary. That’s when you showed up and offered us sanctuary here.”

  I just smiled, happy that Mike was a much better liar than I was, and that he was on my side.

  “Which story sounds more believable to you, Lady Birdsong?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” interrupted Manny. “I kinda like the story with the magic unicorn.”

  “Djinni!” snapped Prince Abdul.

  “Unicorn, genie, same fucking difference,” said Manny with a sneer.

  Prince Abdul jumped up and lunged at Manny, who sidestepped with ease. “I’ll see you all beheaded in Riyadh Square!”

  “Please, Prince Abdul,” said Lady Birdsong in a tone that brought the prince up short. “If you attack one of our guests, the consequences will be most dire.”

  “Dire consequences? I’ll show you dire consequences. My country has billions of dollars in reserves and an ocean of oil. We pledge to drop the price of oil so low that those North Sea wells you are so proud of will be worthless!”

  “Economic warfare, Prince Abdul? That doesn’t seem like a diplomatic solution,” said the British ambassador. “I urge you to reconsider. This is a reckless action to have over a missing lamp.”

  “It’s not a lamp, it’s an ancient glass vessel,” Prince Abdul said. He switched to Arabic and continued speaking. From the expressions of Lady Birdsong, Mike, and Manny, he wasn’t saying nice things.

  “Well, if you’d be so kind as to provide a description of your missing item, we’ll put a notice on the embassy bulletin board,” offered the ambassador. “However, I can assure you that neither I nor Lady Birdsong are aware of such an item here in the embassy.”

  Prince Abdul spat on the floor. “No o
ne will enter or exit this accursed embassy until my property is returned and these criminals prosecuted under Saudi law.”

  “You’ve made you point clear, Prince Abdul,” said the ambassador. “If you wish to threaten us, I’m afraid further discussion is useless. We will be sending a strongly worded message to your king. Perhaps he will be more amenable to a diplomatic solution.”

  Prince Abdul stormed out, followed by Mr. Jonathan.

  As he passed, he said in Fae, “Have a care, little wolf. With you stuck in here, all kinds of bad things can happen to your friends and family.”

  My claws were out and halfway to his throat when Mike grabbed my arm. Mike let out a tiny grunt at the effort required to hold me back.

  “Don’t do it, Luna,” he said. “Attacking him here will give them an excuse to demand you be exiled from the embassy.”

  Mr. Jonathan smirked. I reached out with my left hand, faster than even Mike could intercept. Instead of clawing his face off, I grabbed his fancy silk tie, pulling it tight enough to choke.

  “Can’t you do something?” I asked Mike. “Pray the asshole away?”

  “Not without causing a diplomatic incident.”

  One deep breath, then my shoulders slumped. Mike was right, as usual.

  “Sorry, Mr. Jonathan,” I said in English. “Your tie was crooked, so I wanted to straighten it for you.”

  I popped a single claw, not to slice the possessed human, but to slice his tie. The silk parted under my touch and the tie slid from Jonathan’s collar.

  Jonathan took a deep breath and glared at me, baring his teeth.

  “Oh look, your tie came apart. Wait a sec, I’m sure I can fix it.”

  I made a slip-knot in the tie, turning it into a silken garrote. “Here, just let me get this around your neck and you’ll be all set.”

  “No, thank you,” he said, stepping back quickly. “You keep it.” He raced out the door to catch up to his pet human.

  The door slammed and their footsteps receded.

  I sat down at the conference table and placed Jonathan’s tie in front of me.

  “You two spoke Fae so quickly that I understood very little,” said Lady Birdsong.

  I ignored her subtle question and said, “Could I trouble you for a sheet of linen paper?”

  “Linen? Of course, we have some here.”

  “Would it be possible for you to send a package via diplomatic pouch?”

  Lady Birdsong leaned back and gave me the royal equivalent of Manny’s ‘what’s in it for me?’ look.

  “The embassy cannot be party to the smuggling of artifacts, however acquired,” she said mildly.

  “I don’t plan on smuggling artifacts, just a note and a souvenir.” I nodded to the tie.

  Again with the look. Time to bargain. I reached into my invisible purse and pulled the genie bottle out. It made a solid thunk when I set it on the table. The crimson glass glittered and sparkled under the fluorescent lights.

  Lady Birdsong licked her lips, unable to tear her gaze from the bottle. Her hand reached out, as if controlled by an external force. “With this, I could—”

  I reached out quickly and moved the bottle a precise five inches beyond her reach.

  That seemed to break her enchantment. “I believe you will find this particular bottle empty,” I said. “No genie, no three wishes, no games. It’s worthless.”

  She looked disappointed. “Even without the genie, the bottle itself is priceless. The knowledge of their construction has been lost.”

  Until Mason figured out how to do it again.

  Mike stepped in to lie for me. “Didn’t you find this in the souk?” he asked.

  “The last few days have been such a whirlwind, I don’t remember exactly where I picked it up,” I said. “Pretty, though, isn’t it?” I twirled the bottle, sending flashes of crimson magic around the room.

  I set the bottle back on the table, within Lady Birdsong’s reach. “But I’m afraid it will clash with my décor. Perhaps you’d accept it as a gift?”

  “That’s quite gracious of you,” she said as she reached out and stroked the bottle.

  I kept a firm grip on it. Ten men couldn’t have wrenched it from my grasp.

  “So,” I said, “this diplomatic pouch. How long would it take to reach my assistant in Nevada?”

  “We can assure you of delivery within twenty-four hours.”

  I released my grip and she pulled the bottle in closer with a smile. “Ambassador, if you would call the shipping office?”

  “As you wish, milady.”

  “Luna, could you put that letter you wrote for my son in the pouch?” asked Manny. “I might not get a chance to deliver it in person.”

  “Of course, Manny.”

  While we waited, I prepared my letter. The high-linen-content paper was smooth under my fingers, carrying the scent of Lady Birdsong and the clerk who had brought it to her.

  “Lady Birdsong, if you’re squeamish, you might not want to watch.”

  I popped the claw on my forefinger, narrowed the tip down to twin points, and stabbed it into my left forearm. Blood rushed out and up the nail, filling it like a fountain pen.

  Dear Kuga-san,

  Greetings and happy hunting. Please give the enclosed tie to Christopher, my beta. Tell him that the owner of this tie is anathema to our pack, having injured one of our own. His life is forfeit.

  Christopher is to show the tie to our pack and any pack we have relations with. Luna Pack will give one BITCHCoin to the werewolf who brings me the head of this prey.

  Luna, alpha of Luna Pack

  My arm had healed before the letter was finished. I used my magic cloth to wipe up all traces of blood. Lady Birdsong had looked at my blood with the same greedy look in her eyes that she’d had for the genie bottle. No sense leaving temptation around.

  Mike read over my shoulder as I addressed an envelope, this time with a standard ballpoint pen, and murmured, “I might be able to save his host.”

  “That would be like trying to cure a rabid dog. This isn’t a low-level demon that can be pushed out. He’s got his claws in that poor man’s soul.”

  26

  Mike, Manny, and I reconvened in our suite where Logan and Alisha had been waiting.

  We sat at our table to go over our plans. All except Logan, who paced around the room like a caged lion. Even Alisha leaned away from him as he passed her. No smart-ass comments when she knew her father was this pissed.

  “Alpha, you shoulda let me attend that meeting. I woulda taken care of that kidnapping bastard.”

  “That’s exactly why I ordered you to stay here to guard our den, runt. The demon-ridden bastard tried to get me to attack. That would have resulted in our expulsion from the embassy.”

  Mike added, “And we needed someone with your talents to stay and guard our rooms. No telling what they might do behind our backs.”

  “You’re all paranoid,” said Alisha. “Nobody’s out to get us. If I just get a minute to talk to Prince Abdul, I can convince him to leave you alone. Then you can go on about your business.”

  “You’re still a minor,” I said. “I’m not turning you over to some random bastard.”

  She might have argued with Logan, and she would have ignored anyone else, but I gave her the stare of an alpha. The look that let her know the restraints and hood were still available.

  Alisha sniffed in derision, stood quickly, and walked to the door. “I’m going to the gym,” she announced as she left, slamming the door in frustration.

  “Mike, could we have some privacy, please? Logan, hold your nose.”

  “Hocus silentium!” intoned Mike as I erected a soundproof bubble.

  Logan snorted out of both nostrils to clear his nose of the stench of magic.

  “Wow,” said Manny, “she slammed that door so hard my ears are ringing. Teenagers!”

  Safe within our bubble, I brought Logan up to date on our meeting with Prince Abdul and Mr. Jonathan.

&nbs
p; “You put a bounty out on the demon, but not the kidnapper?” asked Logan. “That doesn’t make any sense. They should both die for what they did.”

  “I had to choose to take down the most dangerous enemy,” I said. At Logan’s glare, I added, “first. The prince will get what he deserves.”

  Logan nodded and sat, his only confirmation that he agreed with me.

  We talked for over an hour, discussing tactics and plans. A pounding at the door interrupted our meeting.

  A nervous-looking Royal Marine announced, “The embassy is on lockdown. Saudi troops have surrounded the compound. Please stay here for your own safety.”

  “Damn, they worked fast,” said Mike.

  “Any other messages?” I asked.

  “Lady Birdsong asked me to tell you that your pouch has been dispatched. The courier left just before the troops gathered.”

  “Please tell Lady Birdsong that we thank her for her assistance and that we will be of service in any way possible.”

  What the hell should we do? What the hell could we do?

  When in doubt, make coffee. I prepared a pot of smooth-brew coffee, following the recipe Mason had taught me years ago.

  “Luna, please let me do that,” said Mike.

  “Your coffee is terrible,” I replied with a shudder as the water dripped.

  I laid out cups and saucers while Mike, Manny, and Logan whispered.

  When I started to pour the coffee, Mike and Manny accepted, but Logan pushed his cup back.

  “Sorry, Luna, I need to take a nap. I pulled the midnight shift.”

  Frustration rose, but he was right. Even werewolves need sleep, and he couldn’t do my ‘sleep between the ticks of the clock’ trick. He had also recently recovered from grievous injuries.

  “That’s fine, Logan. We’ll wake you if anything happens.”

  While Logan napped, we discussed options.

  “Can’t we port out?” asked Mike. “You’ve been working on the spell to get us back to Nevada.”