Isis slid down the door and to the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her when she settled.
“I thought, because I’d never resurrected anyone before, I’d screwed up the magic and prayer. Your heart doesn’t beat and your loss of memory, I assumed those were byproducts of my inexperience using Wadjet’s powers. That may still be the case, I don’t know. But now I think it may be possible that your memory loss has less to do with your death and resurrection and more with how you died and who killed you.”
“You’re saying I’m deliberately repressing my memories?”
“I think that’s a possibility worth exploring. The memory you had, those words aren’t ones I can see a demon saying to you. They were too personal.”
“Why go to a psychiatrist, when I have you to psychoanalyze me?”
Isis didn’t take the bait. The eyes that watched him were no longer that of his lover but of a thoughtful, patient mate.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know. You’re raw and frustrated.”
He was. But not only those things. When he’d watched over Isis while she slept, Osiris had plenty of time to think about her question. She’d wanted to know who, in all the clans, including his own, would have the balls and/or strength to take him on. Beyond Bek and Lateef, no dragons from other clans came to mind, but four from the Ombos clan did. Improbable he’d concluded but not impossible. The unwanted thought had him pulling Isis to him and burying his face against her neck.
He’d kissed her there, and tasted the sweetness that was his mate. A mate he wanted to remember. So why in the hell would he repress his memories if memories of Isis were so important to him?
“I want to remember everything. Especially you.”
“I believe you. Maybe there’s something worse you’d rather forget even if it means giving up other memories.”
He couldn’t imagine any memory strong enough that he’d voluntarily sacrifice his memories of the years he spent married to Isis.
“I could hear the words but not the voice.”
“Which means you still can’t identify your attacker.”
“I know. Just so you’re clear, I would never reveal your secret. If someone came to me, asking about the scepters because we’re together and I live here, I would tell the person to go fuck themselves.”
Then he’d clock them upside their head for thinking he would betray his wife.
“You don’t have to convince me of that fact. As the Scepter of Wadjet, it’s impossible for me to not know your true heart.”
“What does that mean?”
“When in my hybrid form, but especially in my dragon form, I can see the true heart of every preternatural. I can’t see what evil they may commit, only that they are capable of villainy, which also doesn’t mean they’ll ever act. With both scepters, my parents could read the heart of the preternaturals who came before them seeking admittance to the human realm. From Nut’s stories, some demons were permitted to pass, but most weren’t. All of them are carnivores, but not all prey on defenseless creatures. To eat children, like the Yumboe, is a choice. As dragons, we could do the same, devouring humans or any other species. It’s in our power. But we’ve made different choices. Even on Nebty, we didn’t eat other preternaturals.”
He remembered. As a child, Osiris’s father would take him hunting. Hippidion, woolly mammoth, elephant bird, ground sloth, sea cow, cave rat, animals extinct in the human realm but food for dragons and other carnivores on the preternatural plane. Isis was right, demons had food options that didn’t involve children.
“I don’t have the same ability when I’m in human form. Although I knew your heart was pure, you still wanted me to shift into my hybrid form to prove your love, trust, and devotion. I didn’t need the added reassurance that you were the right and only dragon for me, but your insistence touched me deeply.”
A tear escaped, and she wiped it away.
Why would he give up that memory? He wanted it back. Osiris wanted them all back.
“Victims of traumatic events, like sexual assault, often repress the memory. It’s a subconscious coping mechanism.”
Osiris didn’t appreciate the comparison to a survivor of rape, not because he viewed himself better than them, but because the thought of being a victim churned his insides.
“So, the question is what mental trauma would be so awful that you wouldn’t want to remember it?”
Getting to his feet, he walked to where Isis sat and knelt in front of her. She pulled her legs back and sat cross-legged, which allowed him to move closer.
“Will you tell me what you’re hiding under your nightgown or why you were in the hospital?” He moved even closer, his eyes locked on hers, their knees touching. “What trauma are you keeping from me?”
With each question, his voice became softer, as Isis’s face grew stormier
“Why won’t you tell me?” With a thumb over his shoulder, he gestured to the room. “There are no personal touches in here, nothing that screams Isis and Osiris live here. It lacks personality, like a guest room, which I think it is. You have clothes in the drawers and closet, but nothing on the scale I know you must have as a woman of business. None of the clothes you brought me came from this room. My point is that this can’t be the room we shared as a married couple. So, why were you staying here instead of our real bedroom?”
Isis stared at him but didn’t answer, not that he thought she would. The woman was mulish, which was a pain in the ass. But something told him that Isis wasn’t quiet for the sake of being obstinate.
He glanced at the bed where, less than ninety minutes ago, he’d been beating his hands against his head and wishing he could rip it off to stop the pain. Isis had witnessed his physical and emotional breakdown. The sun dragon wasn’t being stubborn. Isis was doing exactly what she told him she would do this morning.
Protect him.
He sighed and sat on his bottom. Tonight, this line of questioning was a bust. He’d try again before they left for Nebty.
“Betrayal and love. You want to know what would fuck up my mind to the point of wanting to forget. Betrayal and love, that’s what.”
Isis reached out and grasped his right hand with hers. Bringing it to her chest, she pressed the palm against her heart.
“I’m going to annihilate everyone involved in your murder.”
What had Merit said about the sun dragon? “Isis is an apex predator. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and annoyingly well-mannered. She’s the most vicious and cunning dragon I know.”
Osiris had no response, which didn’t seem to matter to Isis who used his hand to pull him to his feet when she stood.
After situating the covers on the bed, Isis turned off the ceiling light and climbed into bed.
Did she want him to join her, or sleep on the chaise lounge? Osiris knew what he wanted to do, which was to fall asleep holding his Isis.
“I need you, come to bed, please.”
He needed her, too.
When Osiris slid under the covers, he didn’t have to search for Isis because she was there, hand clutching his shoulder and mouth on his.
He would wait to tell her about his list of suspects until after he did a bit of investigating on his own. She wouldn’t like it, but Isis would have to get over it. She may be hell-bent on protecting him, but he was just as determined to protect her.
Chapter 10
You look great.” He hugged her, adding a kiss to Isis’s cheek.
“It’s not hard to look better when the last time you saw me I was a raging, pathetic mess.”
Set brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back. “Who do you want me to kill on your behalf? I will, you know. Just tell me who hurt you, and I’ll find the son of a bitch and take him out of this world.”
Isis reclaimed her hand from her brother-in-law. Set had always been a shameless flirt, even after she and Osiris married. He also had none of his brother’s fighting spirit or spine. Nephthys
thought Set a weasel, and Isis didn’t disagree. But she had tried to like and befriend the rock dragon, for Osiris’s sake.
Set arrived five minutes ago. He’d interrupted Merit’s research and Isis’s breakfast. For the first time in weeks, Isis consumed more than coffee for breakfast. Although a mini bagel with strawberry cream cheese and a couple slices of bacon weren’t much, having Osiris back in her life and bed did wonders for her appetite and attitude. Isis sat at the rustic counter height kitchen table, the Business section of the New York Times beside her coffee cup.
“Have a seat, Set. Thank you for the offer, but I have no idea who attacked me and why. The police have no leads, and I don’t remember enough to be of much help.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” He sat across from her, but not before helping himself to a cup of coffee. “A home invasion gone bad. That’s what was reported on the news.”
“I have no idea what a home invasion gone good would entail.” Isis slid the white ceramic sugar bowl and creamer to Set, who ignored the creamer but added two healthy scoops of sugar to his coffee. “I assume you’re here because Makara told you about Osiris.”
Against Isis’s better judgment, Osiris had gone to visit his mother yesterday. She understood his motivation. If she’d come back from the dead, the first people Isis would want to see would be her mother, sister, and mate.
“I was out of state on business when Osiris stopped by Mom’s house. She called me last night. I came here as soon as my plane landed.”
“You were out of town on DIG business?”
“I assume you know I’ve stepped in, as best I could, into Osiris’s position. The same way Nephthys left legal to serve as CEO while you were in the hospital and recuperating.”
“I was made aware. As Chief Operating Officer for Kemet Holdings, you’re well qualified for the position.”
After the merger, she’d permitted Set to keep his title, although the scope of his position narrowed considerably. Except for Osiris and Set, she’d fired every other member of Kemet Holdings’ executive team. Isis provided them with a generous severance package, which did nothing to reduce their animosity toward her.
The Ombos brothers were the only executives worth salvaging, which made for a rocky start to her and Osiris’s dating relationship. The brothers had proven her right, even Set who she thought, in the beginning, would revolt against DIG rule. In the end, whatever ruffled feathers he may have experienced soon gave way to grudging acceptance.
Tall with light-brown skin and eyes, he wore a well-fitted navy-blue suit with a white shirt and a blue-and-white silk skinny tie. Not as broad and muscular as his brother yet as handsome, Set’s charisma and money got him most things he wanted, including women.
A long finger rimmed the top of Set’s coffee cup. “I don’t understand how it’s possible. I mean, we buried him.”
“Osiris crawled from his grave as if nothing happened to him.”
“B-but, he was in a casket and buried. I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I, but he’s back, and I’m grateful.”
“Yeah, yeah, so am I. Mom’s ecstatic, although I think she’s still shocked from him dropping by without warning.”
Set drank more of his coffee, while Isis ate the last bites of her bagel. She would have to wait for the dragon to leave before she could finish reading the article on a proposed tax bill Senators were slated to vote on soon. Isis wouldn’t rush Set out. He’d come to see his resurrected brother but settled for checking on her.
“Mom says Osiris has memory loss.”
“Fourteen years’ worth.”
“Fourteen. That’s odd.”
No one outside the manor knew the story of Osiris’s butchered body, except the perpetrators of his murder. Not his brother, who frowned into his coffee cup before placing it in front of him.
“He doesn’t know who killed him.” A balled fist slammed on the wooden table. “Two attacks in one night and no one knows a damn thing. Somebody must know something. We just need to think and find them. We can’t let what happened to you and Osiris go unpunished.”
“The police are investigating.”
“Humans don’t give a damn about us dragons. We’ll have to lead our own investigation if we want justice.”
“Where do you suggest we begin?”
She’d never known Set to have an original idea. Leadership wasn’t his strength, but management was, which explained why he and Osiris worked well as a team. The older brother led, his mission and vision clear, and Set followed, managing the details of his brother’s plans. If he had an idea, however, something Isis hadn’t considered, then she’d love to hear it. Unfortunately, the longer he chewed on his bottom lip and said nothing, the more she regretted posing the question.
“Umm, maybe hire a private investigator. There are dragons with the necessary skills to lead a proper investigation.”
“That’s a good idea. Thank you.” Isis reached across the table and laid her hand on his balled fist. “I appreciate your concern and care. It means a lot.” She wouldn’t use his idea, of course, but her words were sincere. “What happened to your arm?”
She’d noticed the sling when he’d arrived, his one-arm hug awkward.
“It’s nothing. Some asshole swerved into the bike lane. I lost control and fell. Landed on my shoulder. A Grade I joint sprain. Compared to what happened to you and my brother, this is like getting a splinter. Don’t look so worried, sis, I’m fine.”
The last thing Isis needed was one more person in the family to worry about.
“Do you mind if I stick around to wait for Osiris?” He pointed to her newspaper. “You finish reading, and I’ll find something to occupy my time. How long do you think he’ll be?”
Isis had no idea. By the time she’d awakened this morning, Osiris was dressed and primed to leave. He’d mumbled something she knew to be a lie before all but running from the bedroom. She’d rolled her eyes at his retreating form before pulling the covers over her head and falling back asleep.
Her mate was a terrible liar, she didn’t know why he’d bothered. Isis, on the other hand, lied all too well. Another trait she and Nephthys learned from Nut.
“A couple of hours. You’re welcome to wait. You know where everything is.”
Knowing Set, he’d get bored and leave before Osiris returned home. In the meantime, she could get rid of him without being rude. If Osiris arrived in time to speak with his brother, great. If not, Osiris would track Set down tonight or tomorrow morning. Either way, the brothers would reconnect.
“Thanks. I’ll just put my cup in the sink.”
“Leave it. I’ll put it in the dishwasher with my saucer and cup when I’m done. You go. No one is in the library or rec room.”
Nut left for DIG early this morning, with Nep and Aset flying off in different directions minutes later. After answering the door and escorting Set to the kitchen, Merit escaped to her cave and computer, a donut in one hand, a bottle of orange juice in the other. Hathor and Serqet were on Osiris duty.
Whether her mate wanted to admit it, his memory loss made him vulnerable. If he remembered the woman he married, Osiris would’ve anticipated Isis’s move. Since he didn’t, he would have to learn, all over again, how far she would go to protect what was hers.
“I’ll see you later.” Set slid from the table. Before leaving the kitchen, he gave Isis another hug and kiss.
Once she thought him out of hearing range, Isis picked up her cell from the table and called Chione, her Special Assistant. She wanted to know what DIG business had taken Set Ombos away from New York.
Osiris pulled the navy Thumbs Down 9 Forty Yankees cap low on his head. To his knowledge, he knew one person in this neighborhood, but a dragon couldn’t be too cautious. With another look over his shoulder, Osiris rang the doorbell for the third time.
“Who is it?”
“UPS.”
Osiris kept to the right of the peephole. Nour may be centuries older than him,
but the rock dragon was neither stupid nor weak. He was, however, like most members of Kemet Holdings’ old executive team, used to getting deliveries because he preferred online shopping to malls and humans.
Nour had little patience with the species he deemed inferior to dragons. Set referred to Nour as “old school.”
“Leave it on the porch.”
“No can do. I need a signature.”
Osiris waited. If this approach didn’t work, he’d have to think of another one, which meant breaking and entering.
He heard the bolt lock disengage. Nour opened the door, and Osiris pushed his way inside. He slammed the older dragon against the wall in the foyer. Forearm pressed against Nour’s throat, Osiris used his foot to kick the door closed.
“What in the hell do you think you’re—”
A punch to the midsection had Nour shutting up. A second fist split his lip, and a third punch left the five-seven man gasping for air and offering Osiris free reign of the brownstone if he would “take whatever you want and leave.”
“You’re pathetic. Are you only brave when in dragon form or embezzling from Kemet Holdings?”
Two weeks into the merger proceedings, he’d discovered the Chief Financial Officer’s role in Kemet Holdings’ financial crisis. “Too little, too late,” Makara had said. He didn’t remember whether Isis knew of Nour’s criminal act, although he suspected she did, which would explain why she’d wasted no time getting rid of Kemet Holdings’ top executives.
“Osiris? Shit, Osiris, is that you, son?”
“I’m not your son.”
Osiris shoved Nour toward the living room to the left of the foyer. He locked the front door, then closed the curtains in the living room after he joined a shocked Nour.
“Is that you under there?” He bent to see under the hat’s bill. “It is you. Take off the cap so I can see your face.”
Osiris smacked away the caramel-colored hand that rose to his baseball cap.
“How? I attended your funeral. I sat in the row behind your poor mother. Nut and Set did their best to console Makara, but she was a wreck.”
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