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

in a confidential mission at the behest of the Crown. You interfere with us at your own risk.”

“And I repeat,” said the admiral, “you are to stand down, disable your weapons, and await a boarding party. The terrorist Luna White is on your ship and we have orders to arrest her at all costs.”

“I’ll thank you to use her royal title,” said Lady Birdsong. “Princess Luna has been granted sanctuary by Her Majesty’s government.”

“She’s no princess,” spat Marcus. “She’s a werewolf bitch with delusions of grandeur.”

“Princess Luna is now recorded in the classified edition of Blake’s Peerage. As such, we insist she enjoy the deference and privileges of her title.”

Other monitors around the room showed images of an unprecedented number of warships in our way. One camera tracked F-16 fighters with the Star of David on their tailfins. Another tracked several smaller warships with the crossed-swords emblem that denoted Saudi vessels. Several more warships with Arabic writing on their bows were from other countries.

“Princess Luna brings all the nations together,” murmured Mike while the discussion of my status continued in the background.

“We are a sovereign nation and we will not be bullied by a ragtag group of mercenaries.” Prim and proper, Lady Birdsong had a way of chilling the room with her tone.

“This, Lady Birdsong, is a coalition united to fight terrorism and anarchy. The crimes committed by this woman include the use of magical weapons of mass destruction, sabotage, and espionage. We are well within our rights to detain her.”

“Our queen wills it otherwise. Princess Luna has been guaranteed safe passage and sanctuary. The full force of our government will be brought to bear unless you back down.”

“Lady Birdsong, they’re not listening. Typical head-up-their-ass politicians. All they know how to do is threaten and intimidate,” I said.

“Yes, quite,” said Lady Birdsong. “However, you will find that Her Majesty’s subjects do not respond to intimidation.”

“You should be intimidated, you terrorist!” shouted the admiral. “Any one of our escort vessels is more than a match for your vessel. If the George Washington were to attack, you’d be blown out of the water so fast you wouldn’t even know it was coming.”

I coughed slightly to interrupt. All eyes turned toward me. In my mildest tone, I said, “So you believe your ship to be invincible?”

“We’ll swat you like a fly. You and your entire pack.”

Mike murmured, just loudly enough to be overheard, “Don’t piss off the princess. You won’t like the result.”

I ignored Mike’s comments. He was doing something I couldn’t understand, tapping his fingers on the table in a nervous manner. But Mike was never nervous. He had walked into a hail of bullets for me without a tremor.

“But I note,” I said, copying Lady Birdsong’s precise tone, “that my ‘invincible’ enemies are hiding. They’re dialing in remotely to avoid being on your ship during this altercation. Perhaps, dear Admiral, they are not as assured as you are?”

I turned to Marcus. “Beekeeper, you plotted to throw me to the wolves, in a prison designed specifically to hold me. I came back leading the pack. Now you cower in a remote location, your finger on a button to cut us off if we should appear to have a prayer of a chance of surviving.”

I pointed to the CIA demon. “You tried to have me killed by your Saudi allies, rejecting our plea for sanctuary when we rescued American citizens from criminals. Then you tried to trap us in the British Embassy, hoping to secure our capture. When that failed, you engineered the capture, torture, and disfigurement of an innocent child.”

Mr. Jonathan snorted in contempt and opened his mouth to speak.

I interrupted him. “It’s useless to hide. We have your scent. I see you have already been visited by one of our friends.”

“The werewolf who attacked me is dead.”

“But he left a mark, did he not? Perhaps the next will not be so inept. Hide as you might, we can always sniff you out. There is nowhere on Earth you can hide from me and my pack.

“Prince Abdul, you used the promise of fame and riches to entice a child to betray her family. Then when caught out, you said that your country’s billions of dollars, trillions of barrels of oil, and vast influence would ensure that my pack and I would never know peace.”

His only response was a look of glaring hatred.

“How’s that oil flowing now, Prince? Are you at peace with recent events?”

“The oil still flows, terrorist.”

“But it’s a bit less each day, isn’t it? And your reserves will continue to dwindle, until your entire government is toothless and ignored, like the homeless women who beg on your streets after their families reject them.”

I’d heard that Saudi men hated being compared to women, but his reaction was over the top. He snarled and spat some phrases I had never heard before, then he tried to reach through the screen to attack.

I laughed at him and his face grew bright red. Maybe I could give the bastard a heart attack.

“And your Iranian allies, not present but listening in: How’s that uranium enrichment facility doing? You know, the one you insist doesn’t exist. Wasn’t there an earthquake in that area last week? Some would call that an act of God.”

“Gee, Luna,” drawled Mike, “wasn’t there an island in the Pacific Ocean that sank about a year or so ago? Come to think of it, that was the island where your husband was detained. Wasn’t he the only survivor?”

“Yes,” I said. “Mason is still angry about that. He’s the nicest man in the world, but when he gets angry, ‘acts of God’ occur with remarkable frequency.”

“You’re trying to claim credit for a natural disaster. But it is all lies, evidenced by the fact that even the Israelis have joined us,” said Marcus.

“Politics makes strange bedfellows,” I said. “Perhaps they would change their tune if they knew those diverted oil resources are now located—”

Marcus jabbed a button, which I assumed cut out the Israelis.

Lady Birdsong