Trusting Her Protector

by C. D. Gorri

  Carolina was a sucker for myths. She supposed she could wait a week for the story of one of Egypt’s most reclusive Osirian soldiers. Medjed was believed to be a guard or warrior of sorts who would smite Osiris’ enemies and anyone seeking to enter the realm of the dead falsely.

  “Hmm, that’s odd,” she thought as she moved to exit the room and spied one of the rare stone tablets sitting on the floor.

  She was sure she’d seen Kim pack that very same one just a few hours earlier inside of one of the wooden crates marked with the university’s logo and shipping information. The stone tablet one was about the size of a notebook. One of the spells from the Book of the Dead was etched along the perimeter of the stone.

  Carolina had recognized the prominent eyes and feet, and the conical body shape of Medjed immediately in the inscription. The Demon was one of her favorite simply because there was so little known about him. That and she got a chuckle every time she looked at the icon that represented him.

  “There, stay in that box,” she murmured tucking the tablet back inside and tossing some straw on top of it.

  She didn’t notice the indent in the piece of stone that she’d innocently brushed against when she lifted the thing. She also did not hear the tiny rumble that was steadily getting louder.

  Carolina hummed as she took her final turn around the dig site and gathered her belongings in her canvas shoulder bag.

  “Bye-bye dust and grime, heat and sweat, bad translations and enormous bugs, I’ll miss you,” she laughed at her own fanciful thoughts, placing her cap on her head before she headed out into the strong afternoon sun.

  She turned to leave, but suddenly the room began to tremble and shake. Fear had her gasping and sweat broke out along her forehead. What was happening? She squeaked as she slid on the shaking cobblestones and almost hit the ground but managed to catch herself before she did. A deep, low rumble, sort of like a yawn but much more intense, filled the dark cavern.

  “What the?” Carolina slipped and this time, she landed with a hard thwack right on her butt.

  The tablet she’d just replaced flew out of the wooden crate. The small stone shook and levitated in the air much to her astonishment.

  “This can’t be happening!”

  A dark glow emanated from the hieroglyphs. The small indent where Carolina’s finger had pushed the hidden stone remained depressed. Little by little smoke spiraled out of the tablet, growing in intensity until it took the shape of a cloaked man.

  Only his eyes and feet covered in black sandals were visible. The shroud he wore was the color of midnight, but it did nothing to hide the rippling muscles or menacing frown in his black eyes.

  “Holy shit,” Carolina scrambled backwards and hit the wall with her back, eyes wide and whimpering slightly. Okay, this was not a proud moment for her. But what the fuck?

  “Dewa Netjer En Etj,” the entity’s deep guttural voice reached her ears, and Carolina almost peed her pants.

  “Thank you for waking me, sweet princess. I am Medjed, and you are fortunate to be my chosen bride,” he spoke again, but Carolina’s eyes were riveted to his body as he seemed to wink in and out of existence.

  What did he say? He was Medjed. The Demon? Oh fuck. She was in big trouble. She scrambled to stand, eyes wide as he came back into view sans shroud. Gulp.

  “Well, now I know why they drew you like a huge dildo,” Carolina closed her eyes against the sight of his enormous member.

  OMG! She was a pervert, but it wasn’t all her fault. Carolina had often wondered why the Demon had always been depicted without a real body. Just a cone-shaped form with eyes and feet. Now she knew. The guy was hung. Like a fucking horse.

  That didn’t distract her from the raised scars and disfigurement of his features. She was an artist and her trained eye picked out the markings immediately. The poor guy. He must have suffered something terrible, but there were no records or legends of his trials. Just that he was a guard and warrior for Osiris.

  Okay, so she set an ancient Egyptian Demon free. How bad could it be? She blinked her eyes and tried to smile, but fear made it more of a grimace.

  “Once my power is returned, I will compile an army,” his form waned, then returned once more, “The world will be shrouded in darkness and I have you to thank, little one. You will reign beside me as my most beautiful queen!”

  Um. That sounded really fucking bad. Joffrey, her ex, had always told Carolina that she had no tact. Hopefully, he was wrong. She straightened her back and wore her most businesslike expression. Offering up a small prayer that the Demon wouldn’t smite her ass for being so bold.

  “Um, about that, no thank you,” she faux laughed and moved back, “I, uh, just got out of a bad relationship and I’m sort of staying away from guys at the moment. It’s not you, it’s me,” she felt behind her for the opening to the stairwell.

  “I will turn your former lovers to dust, little one. You will be rewarded for setting me free, my fair-skinned dove.”

  “No really, um, I have to go.”

  “I will build my strength and then I will come for you, fear not,” he growled.

  “Oh, shit,” Carolina squeaked and reached the stairs.

  She turned around and ran without looking back. Carolina Moore was a lot of things, but she never thought of herself as a coward. Oh well, what would you do if a Demon with a huge dick said he was your bride?

  She’d never believed in the myths she so loved to study. Maybe she was crazy? She ran into the hotel and straight to her room. Forget mailing her work. She would pay extra to bring it on board. All she knew was that she was leaving Egypt. She just had one call to make.

  “Jennifer? I need help!”

  Chapter 2

  Arthur Wessex, former four star general of the United States Army, and adoptive father of four Wyvern Shifters frowned as he looked at his watch. The boys were late, and he had things to discuss.

  “Hello, General Wessex,” Jennifer Dylluan, his trusted friend and the boys’ handler smiled gently as she entered the room.

  “Ms. Dylluan,” he nodded once, “shall we?”

  He was a man of few words, for he always believed actions spoke loudest of all. He held out Jennifer’s chair and sat down at the long table in the formal dining room.

  A military man seldom made the kind of money Arthur Wessex had in the bank, but he had his late wife to thank for that. It did not matter, as he’d found out once the diagnosis had been made, you really could not take it with you.

  “Where are the guys?” Jennifer asked.

  “They will be here,” he said, “but I am glad we will have the chance to talk first. You’re a Shifter Jennifer, you know the drill.”

  “Is there something specific you wish to discuss, Arthur?” she said with that quietly authoritative air that was so like her.

  No wonder his youngest could not help but admire the woman. Though God knew, Conny had some growing up to do if he wanted to impress the likes of her, Arthur thought to himself. Back to the task at hand.

  “As their Wyverns grow, they will need to find their mates, Jennifer.”

  “I see,” she said and he noted the small change in her posture.

  “They grow restless, Jennifer, finding mates will give them better control of their powers and their beasts.”

  “That has been theorized,” she agreed.

  “Hmph,” he grunted, “I know your kind are secretive, but I raised them Jennifer. I have none of the prejudices that other humans have against Shifters.”

  “I know that,” she said and smiled, “I just wonder if it is as dire as you seem to think?”

  “Did you know Jasper’s fire can be channeled into a single, slender beam stronger than any laser the government has been able to produce and with more accuracy than any sharpshooter I have ever heard of?” he began, expecting her argument and having prepared for it.

  “Did you know that Heliodore can channel frost as well as fire, freezing his enemies with a mere snort? Lar
imar has been able to communicate with wild animals, and maybe even the dead, and I have seen Zircon call lightning to his aid. I tell you these four are more powerful than we’d ever hoped they could be when we hatched them.”

  “Yes. Little was known about Wyverns as a species before we found their eggs, General,” Jennifer replied, “but they are working for the right people. I have no fears they will go rogue-”

  “No, no, they are loyal, Ms. Dylluan. I would never question that. As a general it would be enough, but as their father, well, I want them to be happy.”

  She smiled at him then. A real, genuine smile. and he knew he would have to tell her now. A truth he’d wanted to avoid, but he knew he could not any longer.

  “I want you to promise me something,” he began.

  “If I can,” she returned.

  “Promise me you will give up this foolish idea of retirement. My boys will need you, Jennifer. You are the only one they relate to,” he took her hand.

  “General? You are scaring me,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, dear. You see, I am dying, I suppose I should be the one who’s afraid,” he announced just as his four sons entered the room.

  “What?”

  “Father?”

  “No!”

  “Please, boys, sit,” he ordered his sons, taking a moment to look at the four powerful and handsome males.

  They were older than they looked, but so young in terms of their kind. Supernaturals could live several lifetimes for any normal. The General had worked with enough paranormals to never underestimate their age, strength, speed, or intelligence.

  “I’ve been diagnosed with cancer. It has spread everywhere and is inoperable-”

  “There must be something,” Zircon interrupted, but one look quieted his youngest.

  He’d raised the four

  brothers as his own sons. From the time they were babes, almost fifty years ago now. He had no regrets about that. His darling Anne was unable to bear her own children, and she’d welcomed the four rambunctious Shifters into their house with open arms. Her passing ten years ago had been hard on them all.

  “Son, I have been seen by the best doctors. I have six weeks left, maybe more, maybe less,” he said noting the pain and confusion in their eyes, “I expect you to listen, to learn, and to give Ms. Dylluan your attention. She will stay on as your handler after I am gone,” he met her eyes and saw her silent agreement.

  The Owl Shifter was the consummate professional. He knew he could count on her. He also knew that he could always depend on his boys. They were good boys.

  “I know you’ve expressed interest in exploring other avenues and I applaud your aptitude, but the world still needs you. Please do not give Ms. Dylluan a difficult time. Now, I have contacted my lawyers and have decided to hand over the estate to each of you equally before my death. That way there will be no period of probate or waiting. After we eat, we will sign the papers,” he said.

  “Father-” Heliodore interrupted, but the General raised his hand to silence him.

  “Money is not important until you need it. You are my sons, what is mine is yours. Now, let’s eat lunch,” he buzzed the intercom, and called for their lunch to be brought in.

  His wife’s family’s mansion was old and large, nestled in the woods in northern New Jersey on the edge of Morris County. Arthur had always loved the grounds the best. The large untouched woods were part of the deed he would gift to his sons, and that would make him happy because he knew they would take care of the land.

  It had been a wonderful place to raise his boys. NO, he supposed lunch would not be a happy affair today, but they would behave with decorum and respect. They would utilize the manners he and his late wife had taught them from birth.

  He would worry about them, he supposed that would never stop. And he would miss them. But the General would not dwell on that. Not today.

  After they’d eaten, Jasper excused himself and went outside to the gardens. Arthur recognized the expression on his eldest’s face. The boy, no, the man was angry with him. He followed him outside, lighting an old Cuban that he’d been given as a gift back when he had retired his position with the army.

  “You waited a long time to smoke that,” Jasper said.

  “Yes, seems fitting somehow, doesn’t it?”

  “So, you won’t get treatment,” it was a statement not a question, and pride filled Arthur as he looked at his handsome son.

  “No, I won’t get treatment. I am dying, Jasper, and I would like to do it with dignity. Hell, I should’ve died ten times alone on the battlefield.”

  “I’ve heard the stories, father, but this time it’s real, isn’t it?”

  Arthur saw the pain in Jasper’s golden eyes, and he wondered as he’d done a thousand times before at the inherent magic inside of him.

  “It has been my honor and my privilege to be your father, Jasper, you and your brothers. I could not possibly love you any more than I do, but I am worried about you all, my son,” he puffed out a cloud of smoke and watched it rise into the warm summer night.

  “Why? Look, we will take time off, and we will take care of you-”

  “No, you have an assignment. Ms. Dylluan has the file for you. You need to leave tonight. Now in fact.”

  “No, I won’t go. I want to stay with you-”

  “Do not dishonor yourself or me that way, Jasper. After everything I’ve taught you, you must do your duty,” Arthur spoke in a low voice.

  He knew his son would not disobey him. He was a good lad. They all were. With brave hearts and bright minds. Intelligent, witty, courageous, noble, and handsome as sin. His sons were powerful Wyverns, the only four of their kind. And if the rumors were true, they would be even more when they’d found their mates.

  “I want you to promise me you will do the right thing,” Arthur said and waited for his son’s response.

  “Yes, father,” Jasper said though the anger coming off him was tangible.

  “I’ll see you when you get back, son.”

  Arthur prayed silently that he would.

  Chapter 3

  Jasper growled deep in his throat as he packed his bag and loaded it into his SUV. He couldn’t fucking believe this. His father was dying and he was being sent to act as a bodyguard for some stupid socialite.

  Who went to Egypt on a whim after getting divorced? Someone with too much money and time on their hands. Just the kind of person who would get into trouble and ruin other people’s plans without giving two shits.

  Fuck. That wasn’t fair of him. He hadn’t even bothered looking at the particulars. Sure, Jennifer had given him the dossier and instructed him to read it, but Jasper had only skimmed it. Briefly at that.

  He just couldn’t think straight. Obligation and duty warred within him. He knew better than to shirk his responsibilities. His father had taught him that.

  Double fuck, he growled deep in his throat. The sounds of his brothers’ footsteps grew louder as they neared his room. The mansion’s marble floors were definitely good for announcing unwanted visitors, though he’d always hated the cold stone on his feet in winter.

  He snorted at the memory of the time he’d tried to heat them with his fire when he was just a lad. His poor mother! The shenanigans he and his brothers had gotten into were enough to drive anyone nuts, but not her. Anne Wessex was one in a million.

  She’d simply laughed at the scorched marble and dried his worried tears. Then she’d instructed him to wear socks the next time his feet felt chilled. Father had not been impressed with his attempt at warming the marble. In fact, that little catastrophe earned him dish duty for a month.

  “You know, you don’t have to be such a dick about it,” Conny said as he leaned against the doorjamb.

  “Seriously though,” Dor added, “bro, what are we gonna do?”

  “Look, Jennifer has given us all assignments, and you know our father,” Larimar growled and flung his cell phone down on the bed.

  “Duty first,�
� Dor said, and the other two echoed the sentiment.

  “Yes,” Jasper met the glowing stare of each of his brothers, “we are going to do our duty as our father expects us to, then we will come back and get him to seek treatment.”

  Heliodore growled. His brother’s Wyvern had glittery yellow eyes as he pushed against his kin, making his upset known. Jasper’s gaze found his and he revealed a little of his own beast, causing Dor to avert his stare and end his growl.

  It wasn’t personal. Jasper knew this. Growling and posturing were just part and parcel of being a Shifter. As the oldest, largest, and strongest, he was the unofficial Alpha of their small band of brothers. Unofficial in the sense that he’d never been keen on enforcing it.

  Little was known about his kind. The Wessex Wyverns were recognized throughout the paranormal world, especially among those in the Federal Paranormal Unit, as a force to be reckoned with, but that was pretty much it. Each with their own unique talents, the brothers spent a lot of time training to be the best they could be. It was part of who they were.

  Individually, they were exceedingly strong. Together, they were even more so. But every Shifter group, no matter how small, had an Alpha, and Jasper was theirs. Though, truth be told, he’d never had cause to use that power against them. He’d never had to. Thank fuck.

  Family was the most important thing to each of them. Their mother and father had instilled that since the day they’d hatched. Together, they were a powerful unit bound by blood, duty, and brotherhood.

  “Remember our vow, for our father’s sake,” Jasper met each of the three pairs of eyes staring at him. His brothers’ were glowing with their beasts, and he allowed his own black and yellow scaled Wyvern to rise just a little.

  “With honor and faith,” he began, waiting just a beat until his brother’s joined him in reciting their oath. “We vow to keep safe those in our charge. Our lives for theirs, until our bodies turn to ash and our fire runs cold.”