Protect (The Guardians Book 1)

by K. B. Wheelock

  “I know you have many questions. We will answer what we can, but for now, there are things we cannot tell you, for your, and our, safety. Someone has decided that you are important, and sending two Muahaha this far south, whether to kill or capture you, means that it is serious. Do you have any idea why?”

  She shook her head. “None. I am nobody. I don’t, or didn’t have magic until tonight.”

  “Yesterday, actually. We had to heal the mark of the Muahaha, without the small amount of healing we could do, it would have festered. You will always have the scar, though.” She looked at it repulsed, not like anyone wanted a wallflower of a mouse like her anyways, this just added to that.

  “What was Keyne doing at the TOMBS? Who are you people?”

  “We are protectors. Each of us is called to protect someone who is special. The person might be a creator, a catalyst, or a leader. Our job is to protect them until their mission is complete. Often they never know we are there, keeping danger at bay. Keyne was sent to protect you, but was supposed to remain in the shadows. The Muahaha appearing as they did made that a moot point.”

  “Me? I am nobody. Why would I need protecting? I can’t even walk up steps without falling.”

  “We don’t know. Usually, we are not given to know why you need protecting until the event is upon us. You, my dear, are unique. For one, you have surprised us with your shifting. Mags, can you come explain this part?”

  Mags walked over and took her hand. She could feel Mags’ soft magic touching her, it was like the color yellow, with warm bread and butter smells. Wait, I can feel magic. What is happening? “Yes dear, you have magic within you. We do not understand why it has lain dormant for so long. Your ability to shift will grow, you will gain more strength and be able to change at will. Until that time, I have created a spell to help you. All you need to do is touch this stone, and you will shift.” She handed Rose a small white stone with a hole in it that a black leather cord ran through. “Never take if off or you may be stuck in your mouse form. As a mouse, you can hide in many places, but you are also at the whim of many predators.”

  “It appears that your magic has been forced out with the threatening of your life. We do not know if this is the extent of your magic, or if more is to come. There is something about you that I cannot read.”

  Feeling overwhelmed with all this information, Rose found herself suddenly staring up at the giants in front of her “SQUEAK!” A loud rumble filled her ears as a warm hand picked her up, a shock ran through her, familiar but different. This time the air around her was filled with the scent of pine. She looked into deep-brown eyes that were filled with shock. A finger ran down her spine, causing another shock to run through her as she arched her back. “Yes, I didn’t believe it was true either,” Keyne said.

  Chapter Three

  She touched the stone that had shrunk with her and returned to her human body, thankful that this time she was clothed. “Mags, charmed that to allow your clothes to shift with you. Appearing naked, as much as we might enjoy the sight, isn’t very convenient,” Gris said. Did I hear him right? Enjoy seeing me naked? What alternate universe did I fall into? “It will take awhile for you to get the hang of shifting. It seems that right now you shift when you are startled or afraid.”

  Rose nodded her head. “Yes, though I am not sure I am less afraid as a mouse than a human.” She looked around to thank Mags but noticed she had left and the door was shut. Um . . . what?

  “It’s okay, Little Mouse”, Keyne said. “We just need to talk without anyone hearing. Besides, she has some research to do.”

  “Since we don’t know why we are protecting you, what is up with your magic, or who is after you, we need as few people to know what we are doing as possible.” Gris said. “I am not sure who to trust, so Keyne and I will be guarding you together.” The thoughts running through her head at this set her face on fire, thankfully at that moment her stomach gave a loud roar, reminding her that it had been well over 24 hours since she had last eaten. With a chuckle, Gris gently took her hand and led her to the table. Her mouth watered. A warm glass of mead, fresh bread with the butter melted into it, and a thick stew sat on the table. It was all she could do to keep herself from inhaling, and she didn’t need to add pig to her list of faults, so she reined in her appetite and slowly savored each bite. “What have you been working on that might draw someone’s interest?” Gris asked her.

  She looked at Gris, the smell of pine once again tantalizing her nose. “Nothing. My job is low key. I find the books various professors want, sometimes I do research for them. It could be anything from Ancient Roman Law, to Chinese torture forms, to ancient Norse gods.”

  “What do you do for fun?”

  She glanced down at her bowl, surprised to find it empty. “Um, I read.”

  “What do you read?”

  “Anything I can get my hands on, but my passion is mythology. I love to read a story and then research the mythology behind it. Someday, I want to write a book cross referencing various myths to the stories others have written about them.”

  “Mythology” Gris looked at Keyne, “What was the last bit of mythology you researched? Was it for someone in particular or yourself?”

  “Hmmm. I did get an email from someone asking me to research the Lost City of Missouri. It wasn’t a faculty member, but that isn’t unheard of. We often get requests for various research from “the investors”. They pay the TOMBS a fee, and the request is sent to whichever of us is available to do the search. I didn’t get very far into the research of the Lost City of Missouri, as far as I could tell it is either a really well-hidden secret or a hoax,”

  “There have been some strange happenings in Missouri,” Gris said. “Something to do with shifters, witches, sorcerers, mages, and the gods. I’m not sure anyone wants to head into that.”

  “Other than that, I have been doing more shuffling books here and there for the past month.”

  “Okay. For now, I think we best stick together. Can you do some research on the lost city from here?”

  She shook her head, “No, I need the TOMBS. The interweb has only so much available. I need to see the maps, and research the older stories we have on file.”

  The TOMBS was hidden in the depths of the campus library. The main entrance led into the library that anyone could access, the stairs led to the study rooms and archives to the left, and to the right was the TOMBS. To Joe Schmoe on the street, if they went to the right of the stairs they would see double doors and opening them, would see a large open space. The walls stripped to their metal bones and scattered across the floor were ladders, tarps and various tools. The ongoing joke was that once the archives were built the money ran out and the construction on the library stopped.

  But if you had the proper vetting, opening the doors would allow entrance to the TOMBS. Very few knew that the library was actually built around the TOMBS. Centuries of knowledge have been stored in the TOMBS. Pictures of rare Neolithic drawings, tapestries telling stories in thread . . . the discoveries would take years to learn, maybe lifetimes. The card catalog alone took up one room. Nothing in the TOMBS was digitized–many magical items had been deemed to be unsafe for the regular population, containing too much power.

  “Okay. Then the three of us will be going to the TOMBS. Rose, you rest here. Mags will come and talk with you briefly before we leave. I will go to the armory to get some supplies. Keyne, you go get some travel food packs and canteens. We don’t know what we will be up against, and I want to be prepared.” Both Keyne and Gris touched her arm at the same time, and the electric shock that raced through her had her looking at both of them. The surprise was clear on their faces, and they each let go quickly.

  “What–” Rose started to say

  “Not now,” Gris interrupted her. His eyes shifting to Keyne. Something was clearly

  going on, but neither seemed to want to clue her in. But the tantalizing smell of pine and peppermint twined around her distracting her
from pushing for a answer.

  * * *

  “Rose?” There was a gentle knock on the door before Mags entered. “Gris thought you might want to talk with me some before you left.” Rose tilted her head and looked at her. So many thoughts raced through her head. “How about we start with your shifting?”

  Rose nodded. “Well, looking into the books and files we have, I was able to figure that somehow your magic was blocked which we already knew. The hard part is to figure out how it was blocked and by who. Do you have any family history of magic?”

  “Not that I know of. I grew up in the foster care system since I was little. I don’t have any information on my parents. My foster parents never really said anything about my parents to me. Every time I asked, they made some excuse why they didn’t have it.”

  “Hmm, then that complicates things some. We have some genealogy files, but they are incomplete. We do not know of any mouse shifters, so that leaves us at a real disadvantage. I will check with some of the other shifter cities and see if they know of any. I am thinking it might have been a blood bond that held your magic in place. But a blood bond must be renewed every so often, did you ever visit or were taken somewhere every few years?”

  “My foster parents would take me to this church in the Bayou every couple years. They said that it was a family tradition to go. It was really weird and we all would have to drink from a communal cup. But I haven’t been in about four years. After they died, I just didn’t see the sense in going anymore.”

  “Hmmm, that would be about the right time for your powers to start emerging, and the fight or flight reflex would be like a steroid shot to awaken them. Can you give me the name of the church and any info on your foster parents?”

  Rose quickly jotted down what little information she had. “I stored all my parents’ things at an old family friend’s storage facility. When things have calmed down I can try to go through it.” Just as she finished speaking, Gris and Keyne came to the door. Damn, I didn’t have a chance to ask her about that weird shock. It was like the fates, or a certain two men, were against her learning more about this. For all the years she worked in the TOMBS and knew about the paranormal side of the world, she had had very little personal interaction with the creatures of lore and knew next to nothing about the way they lived their lives.

  * * *

  The two men stood looking at the auburn-haired woman that had captivated them. Her small rounded frame made them want to protect her, which was amplified by one look at her large green eyes. The features of her face made them think of elves and summer. They both knew what the shock meant, but they didn’t want to mention it to her, at least not until they understood why they both felt it . . . and why it amplified when they both touched her at the same time.

  “Rose, we better get moving,” Gris said. Keyne offered her a small pack, a jacket, and a water bottle.

  She took them and turned to Mags, “Thank you for your care.”

  “It was nothing, dear. Hopefully, when I see you again I will have more information for you about this puzzle you have set upon me,” she said with a smile.

  Then, the trio was off. She glanced to either side at the men who flanked her. One blond with skin kissed by the sun, the other dark with skin the color of latte. Each made her feel small. Keyne was at least six foot and Gris had another four inches on him. “Um, so where are we, and how do we get back to the TOMBS?” She was thinking of brooms, disappearing in a cloud of smoke, and all the various ways of coming and going that magic was portrayed.

  Keyne chuckled, “For working in the TOMBS, Little Mouse, your knowledge of magic is sorely lacking.” He walked toward a door that had the windows painted black. Seeing the doors made her realize that, of the area that she had seen, there were no windows. Gris opened the door and stepped out into a parking lot. The shocked look on her face made him laugh.

  “Not everything is as it seems. This is the largest space we could find with a central location. It helps that the traffic hides some of our comings and goings.” He walked to a Ford Taurus and opened the door. “Your chariot awaits.”

  She sat in the backseat eyeing each of them, wondering which one of them would give up their secret most easily, like what that shock meant. As she thought about how to approach them, she worried at her lip. Blue eyes kept looking at her through the rear mirror, “Muisje, you are going to worry that pretty little lip away. Ask your questions. We can’t promise answers, but will try.”

  A deep breath in, then with a rush of expelled air she asked, “What was that shock?”. Blue eyes met brown and a world of conversations were exchanged in the few seconds that they held eye contact. Gris cleared his throat. “We don’t rightly know. There are various meanings, the fact that we all felt it, that we are guardians, that you’re a shifter . . . . We just don’t have enough information.”

  Frustration set in, and she knew she had to tread carefully before her temper flared. “But you suspect something?”

  Reluctantly, Keyne said, “Yes. In certain circles, when soul mates meet, a shock or spark is felt. I felt it when I stroked your auburn fur in your mouse form which shouldn’t have happened. It should only happen in the form that you were born in and has never been known to have happened to a guardian.”

  Gris said, “I felt it when I touched you as well, but, again, it shouldn’t have happened to a guardian.”

  “Okay, so it shouldn’t have happened to either of you or to me, and especially when it happened in my mouse form. But, when Keyne touched me it was like a warmth spread through me, I could smell peppermint and maple syrup.”

  Keyne laughed, “So that is how my magic smells?”

  She ignored him and continued. “Gris, when you touched me it again was a warmth spreading through me, and I smelled pine. But when you both touched me at the same time it was like sitting before a fire and the scents of pine, peppermint, and maple syrup swirled around me.” Her eyes glazed at the memory. Gris stared at her, a look of fascination on his face. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he was quickly becoming enamored and protective of the beautiful sprite. He cleared his throat, turning from her, so she couldn’t see the way she effected him.

  “We don’t know what it means. I suggest we leave it at that.” No one spoke the rest of the drive to the TOMBS.

  Chapter Four

  As they pulled into the parking lot, she suddenly became nervous. Even though her credentials would let her in on a Sunday, it was frowned on to work on Sundays, or after hours. She got out of the car and led the men up the stairs. They looked around, surveying the area with quick glances. As they reached the entrance, Keyne stepped in front of her to open the door. Gris quickly stepped through before she could, and then she followed. The rest of the way up to her office followed the same pattern, one of the men leading and the other following. The quiet of the library was deafening. On a normal day, there was always a low level of noise; people walking, computers and copiers humming, pages turning. But, everything was silent. She shivered as she turned down the hall to her office, expecting to see the bodies of the Muahaha on the floor. But all that was there were a pile of her clothes, her wrap, cloche, and handbag. There was no blood, no bodies, no signs of the struggle that had almost taken her life.

  “Someone has cleaned up,” Gris said, a grim look on his face. Obviously they didn’t want anyone to know that someone was looking for Rose. Carefully, Gris opened the door to her office as she pressed her thumb keypad on the lock. The room had piles of papers and books everywhere, but through the chaos a system of organization was clearly present. “Do we need to go further into the TOMBS to find what you need, or do you have it in here? I really would like to stay on the move if we can,” Gris said.

  “I still have materials here. I will just grab them and make copy–”

  A noise in the hallway made Keyne interrupt her. “No time. Grab what you can and run.” Quickly she grabbed her laptop and handed it to Keyne, then grabbed a stack of books and p
apers, shoving them into her bag. Gris grabbed the bag from her, and they ran into the hall. The way they had come was blocked by two glowing creatures. Both were tall and oddly thin with sinuous features. Their short legs and arms gave them a very reptilian feel to their appearance. At the sight of Rose and the men, they suddenly sprang into the air, grabbed their tail in their mouth and rolled towards the trio.

  “RUN,” shouted Gris. “Those are hoop snakes. If their tail touches you, it releases a venom that kills.” They ran as fast as they could down the hall, quickly turning down an aisle to avoid the rapidly approaching snakes.

  Panting, Rose said, “There is another exit over here.” She quickly led them to the back entrance to the TOMBS. They ran down the stairs and to the car, praying that no other surprises awaited them.

  “Someone certainly wants you dead. Hoop snakes are very rare and do not like coming to the city”, Gris said. “We need to figure out who that mystery email was from.”

  Keyne drove as fast as he could, looking in the rearview mirror every few seconds. He quickly turned down a road that led into the district, row upon row of warehouses and storage buildings. It was a place you could lose someone quickly and no one asked questions. At the far end, was a building unlike the others. Instead of the garage doors that covered many of the other buildings, this building had one entrance that was just large enough to drive a small truck through. The rest of the building was an indistinct gray. No windows marred its surface. There was only one entrance and exit.

  Rose was afraid they would hit the door, but just as they were within feet of it, the door opened with a whoosh and shut just as quickly behind them. She looked around and they were in a small garage. A bike sat in one corner, and a work shelf was on the wall to their right. Ahead, a light illuminated the only door in the space; it was dark with a small window at the top and a space that could only be described as arrow slits. “It looks . . . welcoming.”