Shifter Nation- East Coast Bears Collection

by Meg Ripley

  “Dr. Atwood, this is Kaylee Turner. I’ve asked her to give us a little help with the tablet.” Morrick forced a smile onto his face.

  The grimace on Atwood’s face increased, making him look like he’d caught a whiff of some old cheese as his eyes raked over Kaylee. “Yes, I know of her.” He advanced into the room with purposeful steps as though he owned the place until he stood directly in front of Kaylee. He didn’t offer to shake her hand. “You might as well fly right on back to your little college town and hang out on the quad, my dear. There’s nothing here for you to do.”

  Morrick cleared his throat. “There’s plenty for her to do, Atwood. You know as well as I do that she’s a true genius when it comes to this. Besides that, I’m the one in charge of this dig.”

  Atwood narrowed his eyes at the doctor, his chins wobbling slightly. “Do you really want to claim that? When you’ve brought in an impostor like her? We all know that she doesn’t really translate anything on her own. She’s got someone in the wings who does it for her, someone who’s happy to give her the credit. This child hasn’t been around long enough to know anything about what we’re doing here.” His voice increased in volume as he prattled on, his face slowly reddening.

  “Sounds to me like you’re a little jealous,” Jonathan cut in. “You’ve had the first stab at it, but it’s time to step back and let the professionals handle this. Come here, Miss Turner. I’ll show you what we’re dealing with.” He took Kaylee by the elbow and turned her away from Dr. Atwood. “Don’t mind him,” he whispered as they headed to the far corner of the room. “He never likes anyone who he thinks might show him up.”

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” Unfortunately, Atwood wasn’t the first person who’d treated her like that. She’d been called in on several other digs and either openly ostracized or whispered about behind her back. If they only knew the truth, there would be a lot more scientists who felt that way about her.

  “As you can see,” Jonathan said, “there’s quite a lot in this old room for us to go through. Most of it is pretty mundane, and we haven’t had too much of an issue with the interpretations. But this tablet was set aside in a small stone box with a few other artifacts. We’re not yet sure what any of it means. Usually, we can get some idea simply from the context of where an item is found, but we’re a bit mystified.”

  He gestured at what was indeed a small stone box. Like the shelves on the walls, it had been carved out of the structure of the room itself. A carefully fitted lid had been lifted and set aside, revealing the contents.

  “What makes it even more of a mystery is that we don’t know what language it’s in,” Dr. Morrick added from over her shoulder. “It doesn’t appear to be the same as what we see in the rest of the documents here.”

  Kaylee was heavily aware that Dr. Atwood was watching her, but she was slipping into her professional mode. She knew what her job was, and she was excited to do it. There was a special, peaceful feeling that came over her when she was presented with a new item to translate. It drowned out the rest of the world, and it gave her a sense of purpose. She quickly pulled her pack off her lap and removed a flashlight from it, shining it down on the tablet. A small smile crept across her face. She knew exactly what it said.

  But she also knew how the world worked. She couldn’t just turn around and reveal an exact translation of an ancient tablet written in an unknown language. Instead, she handed her light to Dr. Morrick. “Hold that just there for me, please.” Kaylee removed a camera from her bag.

  “What are you doing?” Dr. Atwood bellowed from behind her. “Nobody is allowed to take any evidence from this site until the work is completed!”

  Kaylee ignored him and quickly began firing away, taking as many images as she felt were necessary. She knew what the tablet said, but there was nothing wrong with documenting it thoroughly.

  “Considering this is the only price she requires and that I trust her, I say it’s all right,” Dr. Morrick argued. “Besides, you can’t expect her to just camp out here for weeks while she translates it.”

  Putting her camera away, Kaylee nodded at the professor. “I think that’s all I need. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m done.”

  “Good, good. Then come with me. There are a few other things I’d like to show you while you’re here.” Dr. Morrick led her back up the stairs and out into the fresh air. They wound their way around several walls until they were on the opposite end of the Great Enclosure from the fresh discovery. “I truly am sorry about that. I knew he’d be a pain in the ass, but I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

  “It’s fine,” Kaylee assured him. “He can gripe all he wants to, but it won’t stop me from my work.”

  He pressed his lips together and dipped his head, looking up at her curiously. “So, you can read it?”

  Kaylee had long wondered if Dr. Morrick knew her secret. She’d never told him, but she’d worked with him more than anyone else. As tempted as she was to just reveal the whole thing, Kaylee knew it was best to just pretend that everything was normal. “I’m sure I can.”

  2

  Archard lay back on the rocky surface of the mountain, absorbing the last bit of heat from the day before the chill of the night completely took over. He propped his head on his hands as he stared up at the sky, watching the slow whirl of the stars overheard. It was barely noticeable, the kind of thing he’d never been patient enough to watch for when he was a child, but now he easily tracked each of the stars he was so familiar with move through their nocturnal dance. “It’s almost time for Zimryr.”

  “So?” Callan asked from off to his left. “It’s not like it means anything.”

  Archard sat up, his back stiff from being in his human form for too long. He spent much of his time in his scales, but it was easier to communicate when he was among the remains of his clan and they were all walking on two legs. Nobody could lash out and slice a throat with one swipe of a claw, and their teeth and tongues were more precise when they spoke. It was the way things had been for centuries or more, and at least some of their old habits still remained. “It could mean something if we wanted it to.”

  Callan shoved his dark blonde curls back off his forehead. The firelight reflected the mischief that always lived in his eyes. “Why would we? Archard, you know as well as I do that all the old ways are dead. We should move on and find our own way to live.”

  But the mere idea made Archard’s blood boil inside him, and he felt the ripple of scales threatening a shift on his back. “So we just forget? After everything that’s happened, after everything that our people have gone through, we just decide that none of that matters anymore?” Cousin or not, Archard was tempted to challenge Callan. He deserved it many times over.

  “Look, just because you still think you have some sort of sacred duty doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be subjected to all the boring ceremonies and stuff.”

  “Excuse me, but I very much do have a sacred duty! And you would as well if you’d actually bother to follow it. Your family has been timekeepers for more generations than you can even count, but you’re never the one watching the stars or noting the shift in the sunrise and sunset.” Archard was on his knees now, furious that Callan should challenge the legacy that had been in his family for so long.

  “All right, boys!” Lucia stood up and stepped around the campfire they’d built in their midst, holding her hands out to stop her son and her nephew from arguing any further. “I don’t see much point in having the exact same argument every single year. If Archard wants to celebrate then he’s most certainly welcome to. Personally, I’d be happy to join him.”

  Callan snorted his disgust and got to his feet. “Whatever. I’m done with all of this.” He turned and stalked off down the mountain towards the woods, his form slowly shifting into a larger, more agile one as he disappeared into the shadows.

  “He’ll be fun in the morning.” This came from Kieran, who had been lounging on one elbow and watching the altercation
with amusement in his dark eyes.

  “Don’t mind him. I’d hoped he would find his way in the world, but maybe it’ll just take a little more time.” Lucia settled herself onto the rock next to Archard and laid a cool hand on his shoulder, bidding him to calm down. Her long brown hair had streaks of gray in it now, her thin face a little more drawn than it used to be. “I think it’s very admirable that you still want to keep the old ways. Life has changed so much since the War of Storms.”

  “I know,” Archard sighed. Or at least, he knew what had been told to him. He’d been so young when the war between the dragons and the ogres had broken out that he didn’t remember any of it, except for the general idea that it happened. Things hadn’t looked too bleak until the wizards had decided to join forces with the ogres, and it was the spell cast by the evil Tazarre that had wiped out the vast majority of the dragons. The Great Curse had backfired, however, taking many of the ogres and wizards as well.

  “I remember what it used to be like,” Lucia said with a smile. She turned her head to look up at the mountain behind them, toward the ancient caves where their ancestors had once dwelled. “There were so many fires that they lit up the night, burning with such a pleasant warmth that even the oldest dragons felt young again. We sent our wishes for the coming years up into the flames, dispersing into the universe.”

  Archard was quiet for a moment, delving into the back of his mind for the few faint memories he had of the holiday as a child. “I’ve been spending a lot of time in the royal caves,” he finally admitted.

  “I know,” Lucia replied quietly. “We all know, but I think I might be the only one who understands why.”

  “Hey, give me a little credit,” Kieran argued. “I like to think I perform my duties here as best as I can. There’s just not much of a border left to guard anymore.” He looked off into the dark distance as though he longed for someone to come charging in upon their secret little spot, someone to challenge him and make him rise up to the occupation that had been in his family for time immemorial.

  Archard knew that feeling. His father and grandfather had been royal guards. It was what Archard was destined to be, but it was impossible now that there were no royals left to guard. The Queen had been killed by The Great Curse, and the King had died fighting the wizards. Even with the rulers gone, Archard still felt that innate pull inside him, demanding that he do something to fulfill his destiny. “Have you ever taken the time to read the walls inside the royal caves?”

  “Those old stories? Don’t let Callan hear you mention those. You’ll just piss him off all over again.” Kieran threw a small stick in the fire and watched it burn.

  “Go on,” Lucia encouraged.

  Archard could see the intrigue in her eyes. She understood. She kept up with her job as timekeeper, even though it didn’t really matter anymore. “As I said, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the royal caves. I’m no linguist, and I haven’t been able to understand all of it. I probably don’t even understand most of it, if I’m honest, but I can’t seem to stop trying. Even though it’s written in our own language, it doesn’t all make sense. What gets me most of all is what seems like a prophecy.”

  Kieran sat up. “You’re trampling on dangerous ground now. I haven’t ventured up to Mount Taendru, not knowing if the ogres are living at the base of it, but I hear there are still a few prophets in the world. They won’t like you butting in on their job.”

  “I’m not butting in on anything, and if they want to come on over here and look at it themselves, then they’re more than welcome. If the clans start fighting with each other, then we really are worse off than we were during the War.” Archard knew that Kieran liked to play devil’s advocate simply for argument’s sake, but he wasn’t in the mood to debate this. “Anyway, there’s this one wall that indicates a return of the Awakened One.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve heard of this. A descendant of royalty, if I recall correctly, but who isn’t from here.” Lucia’s dark eyes were bright.

  Archard nodded enthusiastically. Day-to-day life didn’t intrigue him much, especially not compared to the potential for what else might be waiting for him out in the universe. “I don’t really know what that means. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I can’t help but wonder if there are other dragons out there.” He looked to the sky again, wondering where they would come from. There were so few of their own kind left on Charok, and he knew he wasn’t the only one that felt the loneliness of it. They were sociable creatures, ones who needed their duties, their clans, and their mates. With only his aunt and his cousins around him, Archard knew there was a lot he was missing.

  “I wish I had the answers for you.” Lucia stretched and leaned a little closer to the fire. “I admit the idea is compelling, but I’m afraid I also have to say it’s far-fetched. If ever there was a time when we needed someone to come and help us, it would’ve been decades ago. During the War or even right after, we could’ve used some back up. I’d like to think they’re coming, Archard, but I don’t think it’s very likely.”

  He knew she was just being practical. That was how Lucia was. Archard liked to think he was practical most of the time, but he couldn’t deny the deep swirl of emotions that lived inside him. It was like the universe was tugging at him, demanding something of him, and yet he didn’t know what it was or what he should do about it. Archard hadn’t told anyone, not even Lucia, about this. It was ridiculous, a reflection of the old ways, of the ancient rhythms of the dragons on Charok, of the way things no longer were.

  He knew what he would be asking for during Zimryr.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this preview of Dragon’s Royal Guard, check out the remainder of the story HERE. Available with Kindle Unlimited.

  Preview Of Damien’s Nanny

  Beverly Hills Dragons

  1

  BEVERLY HILLS, 1984

  Damien Van Buren tipped back in his black leather chair to look at his daughter. Stephanie was playing peacefully in the corner of his home office, her toys scattered around her on the beige carpet. He might just get away with making a phone call, and he certainly had plenty to do. He picked up the receiver and dialed.

  “Mike, it’s Damien. How are we today?”

  “The Damien-meister!” Mike was always a little too casual, no matter what was happening. “I’m fantastic, man!”

  “Great.” Damien cast another quick glance at Stephanie, happy to see that his sweet dragonling was still occupied. “I just wanted to check with you and see if you have that demo recorded for me yet. I’m anxious to see what this band can do.” Damien had recently been turned onto a band that he thought might have a great new sound for his label. As director of A&R, it was Damien’s job to find new talent. As thirsty as society seemed to be for music those days, it was a continuous job.

  “Dude, they just wrapped up a couple of hours ago, and they’re awesome! I should have the tape ready in a couple of days.”

  “Wonderful. I’m glad to hear it.” And he truly was. Even if his personal life was in shambles, at least his professional life was still going strong. He had a good feeling about this band.

  “Hey, are you free tonight? Me and a few other guys are heading out to see Red Dawn.”

  Damien pressed his lips together and glanced over his shoulder at Stephanie again. At one time, it would have been easy for him to slip out to the theater with his coworkers. But there was no chance of it happening tonight, and he was surprised to find that he actually didn’t mind. The only thing he really wanted was quality time with his daughter. “I really can’t, but thanks. Just make sure you send that tape over as soon as you can. Have the courier bring it to my house, since I’ll be out of the office for a few days.” Damien winced and looked down as he felt something hard smash into his knee. Stephanie was standing next to his chair, holding onto the arm with one hand and putting her toys on his lap with the other. She grinned at him.

  “Yeah, I heard. Phew, that’s rough. Divorce is tough
on anybody, but I always thought you and Linda were the ultimate power couple.”

  Damien swiped a hand down over his face. It seemed that no matter who he talked to or what they were supposed to be talking about, the conversation always turned to his divorce. With both he and Linda being involved in the entertainment industry, it had been somewhat of a high-profile affair. That was only exacerbated by the fact that Linda had been sleeping around with every man—and every coke dealer—in Hollywood. “It’s fine. I’m adjusting to it.”

  “Well, my condolences, anyway. I’m never going to get married. I’ll just be single for the rest of my life, and then I’ll always be happy.”

  Stephanie was trying to leverage her way into Damien’s lap. “Good luck with that, Mike. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone and hoisted his daughter up easily, smiling as she patted his cheeks with her little hands. “I guess you’ve decided it’s time for me to call it quits for the day, huh?”

  The little girl grinned again. She was a gorgeous child, with dark, curly locks and brilliant blue eyes. “Daddy!” she squealed.

  “What?” He tickled her ribs, getting a kick at the way she thrashed around in response. It was a simple way to play, but it was one of his favorites because it always ended in snuggles. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting so crazy?”

  Stephanie squealed with delight. “Daddy!”

  Damien scooped her up and stood, carrying his daughter under his arm as he headed for the kitchen. He wasn’t the world’s best cook, so fortunately, there were several containers of leftovers from when the cook had been in. Damien had reduced her to part-time to help make up for his alimony payments, and he hoped he wouldn’t regret it. “What do you think?” he asked as he held open the fridge door. “Lasagna?”