Dad recognized the movement and held a straw to my lips. The water was nasty, contaminated with chlorine and traces of the plastic bottle in which it had been stored.
It was the best water I’d had in years.
Finally, able to croak out a few words, I asked, “How’s Alisha?”
“She’s stable,” said Dad. Crap. When Dad says ‘stable’ in that tone, things are bad.
“She’s in an induced coma,” Dad continued. “The damage was severe.”
“Don’t worry about her,” said Mom. “You just worry about you getting better.”
“Mom, I’ll be out of here by the end of the day,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. How are the others?” Sudden anxiety made my heart skip a beat. “Are the cubs all right?”
“The cubs are fine. They always have at least two werewolf guards with them, as well as that stinky fairy woman.”
“Chrysoberyl is here?” I ignored the ‘stinky woman’ comment. All Fae smelled bad to werewolves.
“Yes,” Mom sniffed. “She says the children need someone from their side of the family around.”
My heart relaxed. With a contingent of werewolf guards and Mason’s sister, Chrysoberyl, there, the kids were as safe as possible.
“I can’t wait to see them,” I said.
“Now that you’re awake, I’ll bring them for a visit tomorrow.”
“I miss them so much.”
“They miss you, too. Faith always looks around for you and Ira fusses more when you’re not there.”
“How about the others?”
“Logan is, is… is fine. Physically,” said Mom. “Mentally, he’s in a state. His ex-wife showed up and has been blaming him for everything that happened to Alisha.
“Mike and the British guy are all right; minor contusions and scrapes. They’ll be fine.”
“Now that you’re awake,” said Dad, “we’re going to disconnect the IV and the catheter.”
In thirty minutes, I was unplugged from everything and sitting up in bed. Dad pulled the bandages off of my head and I winced as hair pulled away with the bandages.
It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the bright light, but I finally brought the room into focus.
“This is one of the VIP rooms,” I said. “These should be for the paying customers, not werewolves with minor scratches. People pay a lot of money for these rooms.”
“You own the hospital,” snapped Mom. “You’re the biggest VIP here.”
“How’s your vision?” asked Dad.
“Still a bit blurred,” I admitted.
“Double vision?” he asked with concern.
“No, more like color blindness. It’s hard to describe.”
Mom was stroking my cheek, concern in her eyes.
“Mom, quit hovering,” I said. “I’ve recovered from worse. A few hours and I’ll be ready to be discharged.”
Mom looked abashed. “You haven’t needed me since you were a teenager. Let me enjoy this moment.”
“Mph,” I grunted, but let her comb what was left of my hair. It felt good to have her near, no matter how often we butted heads.
“Mom, I’m really hungry. Could you ask them to prepare me a meal? Something with a lot of protein?”
“Of course, dear.”
After Mom left, I tugged my ear, our sign to set up a soundproof bubble. Dad seemed surprised I didn’t do it myself, but invoked the spell.
“How bad is it?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“It’s not color blindness,” I said. “I can’t see magic anymore. When I reach for a spell, all I get is a headache.”
Dad frowned, then asked, “How much energy did you channel?”
“About fifty kilos of exploding C-4,” I said. “Wait, about half of that was used to destroy the embassy. The rest I channeled to power the portal. I have a vague memory of diverting the excess energy up into the sky.”
“That must be why your team didn’t get killed. You diverted the blast, but you were so close you caught part of the explosion.” Dad whistled. “It’s a miracle you survived. I burned myself out once, trying to channel the power in a lightning bolt for a healing. It took me over ten years to recover.”
“I don’t have ten years! I need to recover quicker.”
“Give it time. Werewolves heal much more quickly than magicians.”
“So, it might take years instead of decades? That’s still much too long.”
Mom arrived with a loaded tray and I ate for the first time in days. Normally, after channeling that much magic on top of a metabolic speedup, I would be ravenous. Instead, my worry about Alisha and what still needed to be done made the food taste flat.
Later that day, I returned home from the hospital. After the battles in Saudi Arabia, the domestic chaos of two small babies was a relief.
It was Mike’s guard shift the next morning, so I invited him in for coffee.
He pulled out a sheet of paper and stuck it to the refrigerator with a magnet.
“This is our guard schedule for the next week,” he said. “I’ve got the day shift and your werewolf pack rotates through the afternoon shift. Manny volunteered for the night shift.”
“Mike, I really don’t need a bunch of guards here.”
“We’ve discussed this. Remember, it’s not just you we’re guarding. The children are vulnerable. With all the noise about the siege of the British Embassy, we don’t know if attackers may attempt to get to you or the kids.”
“I thought Ashton covered it up with that story about us illegally filming scenes near the British Embassy for his next movie.”
“That’s a cover story, but it’s a crappy one. The idea that a movie could cause the siege of an embassy and a breakdown in relations between two countries is simply unbelievable.”
“Crappy or not, it’s the story we ran with.”
Mike accepted the coffee I handed him, sniffed deeply, and took a sip. Then he made a face and gulped down half the cup as if it was medicine.
“With me as the day shift guard, we can go and visit Alisha at the hospital while your dad is there.” He frowned at my automatic head shake. “You know, so you can help her like you did with me?”
“I can’t do anything for Alisha.”
“What? That doesn’t make any—” Mike’s eyes narrowed. “The coffee tastes bad, and now you say you can’t help Alisha. Is there something wrong with your magic?”
It irked me to be found out so easily by a human. On the other hand, it would be nice to have somebody else to talk to.
“Yes. I burned out channeling the explosion.”
“No more magic at all?”
“I still know the words, the gestures, and the math. But it’s like a musician who’s gone deaf and blind. You could put him in front of a piano and he might be able to hit the right keys by feel, but he can’t tell if the piano is tuned or even if the strings are missing.”
“But you can still do some magic?”
I shook my head. “Without the sight, any spell I cast could cause immense damage.”
“So, it’s a challenge—”
“Don’t use those SEAL mottos on me!” I snapped. “This is more than a challenge. I can’t heal Alisha, I can’t cast spells, I can’t make gold, and I don’t even know if my bullet-radar will work without magic.”
I fought off the urge to cry on his shoulder.
Mike looked at me calmly, then faster than a blink, snapped a punch at my nose.
I blocked his punch with my right hand and snapped a spear hand to his solar plexus. He managed to twist to take most of the force away, but still grunted with the impact.
He backpedaled quickly to get out of range, then held his hands up in surrender.
“Sorry, I wanted to test your reflexes. You’re still inhumanly fast,” he said as he rubbed his chest, “and inhumanly strong. Can you still shift and do werewolf stuff?”
“Of course. But magic was the ace up my sleeve. Without magic, we would have d
ied in Riyadh.” Tears stung my eyes. “Magic made me special.”
Mike sneered. “Yes, let’s throw a pity party for the poor little werewolf girl. Never mind that she’s still rich, still faster, stronger, and a better fighter than almost anyone on the planet.”
I turned away from his jeers as he continued in a whisper, “Still the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I spun back and bared my fangs, showing him how ugly I could be. “Now you’re just trying to piss me off!”
“Yes. To get you out of your funk. I’d rather be guarding the pissed-off, werewolf-angry Luna than whatever you are now.”
I snatched the guard schedule off of the refrigerator door, crumpled it, and threw it in his face.
“Get the hell out of here.”
“We’ll stand our watches in the van across the street,” he said with a calmness that angered me even more.
He stepped to the door and put his hand on the handle, then said, “But we’ll be ready for you when you decide you want us.”
I brooded for two days, running over the argument again and again. On the night of the second day, I lay in the bed wrestling with anger. I turned to my inner wolf, my best friend. Surely, she would agree that there wasn’t anything we could do at this point but stay here and lick our wounds.
Three days later, Mike, Chrysoberyl, and I were having dinner after the babies had been put down for the night.
For the first time, I went over the story completely. Despite her lack of knowledge of Earth customs, Chrysoberyl understood conflict.
“And then I woke up in the hospital,” I finished. “You know the rest.”
“And this completes your…” She turned to Mike. “What’s the phrase? ‘After-action report?’”
“I think that covers it.”
Chrysoberyl leaned back and crossed her arms. “When are you going back?”
“Going back?”
“Yes, I’ll need to know so I can take the children for a slow-time nap.”
“Take the children?”
“Quit repeating what I say. Of course you must return. These men have bloodied your nose, injured your family, disfigured an innocent child, and crowed about it. Honor demands that they pay.”
“I don’t see what honor—”
“Don’t tell me Luna Ironbow—who defeated our best archer, who danced a minotaur to death, who made sushi from a kraken—is afraid of these men?”
“No, but I have a family here, a business to run, people who depend on me. I can’t go seeking revenge every time some idiot insults me.”
“That is precisely why you must go. Without honor, your business will be stolen, your family will be in peril, and your fortunes shattered. A wrong left unanswered is an opening for all to exploit.”
Chrysoberyl, the gentlest of Mason’s seven sisters, was more bloodthirsty than I had imagined. I took a deep breath and considered.
Did I want to turn tail and run? Play it safe as a werewolf alpha and businesswoman? Hope and pray that the children and I would never face danger again?
Hell, no! screamed both my wolf and human sides.
Anger flared in my heart. How dare demons and human monsters threaten me and my family! My vision blurred and turned red as anger roared through my soul.
When the roar calmed, the red faded—and all the colors of magic came back in a rush.
I hadn’t needed time to heal; I had needed to get pissed off.
“You’re right,” I said. “The children deserve a mother who will protect them at all costs.”
29
We rode the HMS Defender back into the Persian Gulf two weeks later. Despite the tensions between Saudi Arabia and the United Kingdom, these were still international waters.
The deck surged under my feet and the scent of salt air swept across the stern. I pushed down the normal werewolf trepidation at so much water beneath us, and resisted the urge to sprout foot claws to clutch the deck. Werewolves don’t float; we sink like rocks in open water. All the strength in the world won’t help if you’re drowning.
After the upgrades we had made to his bone and muscle density, Mike had the same problems. Despite his years of SEAL training, he couldn’t swim without overtaxing a standard buoyancy compensator.
Warrant Officer Stinton glared at us, his arms crossed on his chest as he repeated himself. “You need to take a RIB to get to shore safely.” He gestured to our scuba tanks and equipment. “I don’t care about this ‘advanced technology’ of yours that you claim will let you breath for hours; a ten-mile swim with all that equipment will exhaust the best swimmer.” He snorted. “You don’t even have a diver propulsion device. If you were to make it to shore alive, you’d be too exhausted to do anything.”
The deck was lit by a red floodlight, allowing humans to see while producing no visible white light, SOP for warships in a combat zone.
Mike and I shared a glance. We didn’t need the red floodlights to see, nor a mechanical device to get to shore.
Manny interjected. “They have gadgets that would make James Bond defect. They’re stronger and faster than your best. I just wish I was in good enough shape to go with them.”
“Gadgets don’t ensure a successful mission,” insisted the warrant officer.
I tilted my head and said, “We don’t depend only on gadgets. Remind me again who won the weightlifting contest in the gym?”
“Yes, Mike’s strong—”
“You think I’m not strong enough to make the swim?” I asked, nodding at the wrist brace he wore. The big, tough, SAS officer had insisted he could beat the American country girl at arm-wrestling.
“You’re both strong, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Mike was inhumanly strong, and you showed impressive strength. Whatever juice your government gave you works. But this is insane.”
I bit my tongue to resist the urge to tell him I had been holding back during the contest. Mike looked like a superhuman, while I just looked like a fit dancer.
“We’re strong,” said Mike, “because we live clean and train hard. We don’t have any ‘secret juice.’ The US government doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Mike was a better liar than me.
“Country girls are stronger than they look,” I said. “And Mike trains like a maniac. That contest was to show how easy it is to underestimate us.”
“‘Country girls’ like you might be strong, aye. But this is suicide.”
“It’s not suicidal,” I said. “We’ll signal when we want to meet up again for our extraction.”
Stinton shook his head in disbelief. “If I wasn’t under royal orders, I would cancel this mission.”
Thanks for the reminder. “And my queen appreciates this gesture of cooperation,” I said in my best royalty-to-commoner tone.
Stinton stiffened automatically at the tone. Being a princess by marriage had come with a few benefits. Would Queen Mab be angry at me using her name to pull strings on Earth? Or would she be amused at the presumptuous werewolf?
“Yes, ma’am. As you command.”
Two sailors grunted as they lowered a ring-shaped inflatable raft made of black rubber into the water. Six feet in diameter and weighing hundreds of pounds, it contained all the equipment we would need for this mission. We were planning to swim to shore tugging the raft behind us.
Due to my insistence on not using a motor, the sailors were quietly taking bets on us dying from exhaustion before we reached shore.
Warrant Officer Cameron stepped out of the shadows, took a deep breath, then stuck out his hand. “Good luck on your mission, Princess Luna.”
I shook his hand. “We’ll see you when we get back, Warrant Officer Cameron.”
“I don’t think so, Princess,” he said. He looked embarrassed. “I’ve been asked to resign my commission.”
“Why? You saved dozens of lives!”
“Lady Birdsong was unhappy that I couldn’t share my ‘revolutionary breakthrough’ in teleportation spellcraft.”
�
�A surge of adrenaline, insane skills, temporary amnesia,” I said. “Any excuse should work. You’re the best they have. You couldn’t come up with a good excuse?”
“My oath forbade me from discussing anything that happened that day. They took that as insubordination.”
“I’m sorry. But I can’t release you from the oath.”
Warrant Officer Cameron laughed. “Don’t apologize. We saved lives. That’s worth more than my career with MI-13.”
He turned to Mike and said, “Take care of the princess, now. Don’t be afraid to abort your mission if it gets hairy.”
Mike shook his hand and stepped over the rail. The sailors had unrolled a fabric net to allow us to climb down to the water level. I resisted the urge to be first into the water.
Even encumbered by tanks, weight belt, buoyancy compensator, and other items, Mike was nimble as a monkey as he climbed down the netting.
A quick goodbye hug for Manny and I was ready to go.
“We appreciate your assistance and hospitality, Warrant Officer Stinton. Steam away as soon as I’m in the water. We’ll send word when we’re done.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stuck out his hand. “We’ll be here.”
“Good luck, Princess,” said Cameron.
Screw protocol. I pulled him in for a hug. “Thanks again, Derrick,” I said, using his first name for the first time.
The faces of the onlooking sailors were a matched set of dazed expressions. I had either ruined his reputation or raised it immensely.
“The lads back home will never believe this story,” he whispered as I went over the side.
In the water, Mike waited patiently, hanging off the rope attached to our raft. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head. I knew he must have a reason, so instead I spent a few minutes getting my bearings and adjusting to the water temperature.
From the water, the ship was only visible as an outline occluding the sky. A normal human would have seen nothing.
A rumble through the water announced that the screws were turning. In minutes, the outline moved away.
It was very lonely in the middle of the water. I was glad for Mike’s company.
Lycan Legacy - 4 - 5 - 6: Princess - Progeny - Paladin: Book 4 - 5 - 6 in the Lycan Legacy Series Page 74
