Lycan Legacy - Paladin: Tales of Luna White - Werewolf by Veronica Singer (funny books to read TXT) 📕

never timed it before. Anyway, I’ll hang onto the drag anchor from the raft. It’ll be perfectly safe.”

Mike rummaged around in the raft, pulling together the tanks, snorkel, and mask I had just discarded.

“You know how many SEALs have died on solo night swims? Too many. I’ll give you ten minutes, then I’m coming after you.”

“You won’t be able to find me in the dark water,” I said.

“Which is why I’m going to tie a light to your ass. I should be able to see the glimmer down to about twenty meters. If the light goes out or fades away, or if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming in for you.”

“You’re the rescue swimmer,” I said. “I’m just the magician who makes it all work.”

Mike held up his timer, set it to ten minutes, then clicked the start button.

I took three deep breaths and slipped beneath the waves.

30

The underwater light activated at ten feet, casting a bubble of light around me. My oxygen mask spell, one of the first spells I had created solo, worked perfectly. My head was enveloped in a sphere of pure air, allowing me to breathe as if I were on the beach.

At the edge of my perception, the interface between the air bubble and the surrounding water buzzed with magic. My spell stripped oxygen from the water molecules, constantly replenishing the oxygen I used while breathing.

I was proud of this spell. I had tweaked it over the months to automate keeping the oxygen/nitrogen balance perfect without effort. I could even crank up the percentage of oxygen in my bubble, giving me a boost that almost no other werewolf could match.

Here, in the middle of a mission, I needed to tweak the spell to do more. Much more. I needed the spell to extend and cover my entire body. That would give me a lot more volume of air to use for buoyancy, as well as eliminate the neck-breaking side effect of my original spell.

This type of modification to a spell would normally take hours, if not days, to perfect. Now, with Mike waiting at the surface like a mother duck, I only had ten minutes to make it work.

Okay, extending the bubble was the first step. As the bubble grew, extending down my torso, I started to float up. Only my grasp on the chain of the drag anchor prevented a rapid ascent.

Too hard to control. Another five minutes of tweaks and a series of air bubbles now sheathed my head, torso, arms, and legs. I looked like the Michelin man had swallowed a scuba diver. The problem was that the separate bubbles were too large and too hard to control, each needing constant attention.

I needed something that would fit my body like my fur fit my wolf form. But the calculations, the constant updates to the spell to allow the air sheath to stay close to my skin, were too complex to update as I moved.

For the first time since the heaving deck of the ship had sent her into hiding, my inner wolf peeked out. A surge of confidence came from my wolf side.

Me, the logical, calculating human side, couldn’t modify the spell quickly enough. But my wolf side, more in tune with nature and the supernatural, more intuitive, could do this.

“Okay, you’re in charge of the air sheath,” I said.

The image in my head that represented my better half shook her head. Damn wolf was mostly non-verbal, and we normally communicated by feelings and gestures. She was hard to understand, but almost never wrong.

She projected an image of me in my human form, naked. Then a new image of a fur covered Luna with a wetsuit, fur poking out from collar, sleeves, and leggings.

“Okay, the wetsuit gets in the way. I’ll remove it.” That was met with an enthusiastic nod.

I dropped the bubble spells, keeping only the one around my head, then peeled out of the suit and dropped it into the inky depths. I kept the flippers and the belt with the light attached. My wolf side accepted the need for flippers and a way to carry objects.

I took a deep breath, held it, and turned control over to my wolf.

Chilly water slapped against my face, eyes, and ears. I resisted the urge to swim back to the surface and waited for the spell to take effect.

It started slowly. A thin film of oxygen slid from the crown of my head down to my neck, like my original spell, but much more close-fitting.

I took a breath, happy to have air again. I fed magical energy to the spell, guided by wolf instincts, and the layer of air extended down my torso, arms, and legs.

The sheath was so fine, so accurate, that my individual fingers and toes were covered. Only my hair and flippers extended beyond the film of air.

When the sheath was done, a wave of warmth swept over my body. Not only did it provide oxygen and buoyancy, but the film of air also insulated me from the chill of the water.

Letting go of the anchor chain was hard. Magic is fickle and this spell could evaporate without notice. Then my wolf side snorted in contempt, boosting our confidence. Even if the spell broke, we could always swim to the surface.

I opened my hand to release the chain. We remained suspended in the nighttime sea, neither rising nor sinking. My wolf had handled the buoyancy perfectly.

We jerked as a splash from the inflatable on the surface reached us. Our ten minutes must be up, and Mike had jumped into the water to save us.

I wiggled my flippers slightly and we shot toward the surface, reaching Mike in an instant.

Despite the mask, the shock was evident in his eyes. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the surface. He grabbed the side of the raft, kicking his legs to stay on the surface.

I looked at Mike as he pulled off his mask and snorkel so he