Page 3 of Eden and her Mercenary (Changing of the Guards)

Royal

I laughed. "Can’t, I’m already back in Ontario. Where is Lily? I thought you would be cooking breakfast for her?”

Lily was the kindergarten teacher that we had been assigned to watch months ago. We were only supposed to keep an eye on her, but Ryker had other plans and fell in love with her. Six months later they were married.

“She went on a trip with a friend. Won’t be back for two weeks.” I could hear the sulkiness in his voice.

I chuckled. “I need a license plate run," I explained, keeping my eyes on Eden. "Ontario plates, first four letters are brDT and then the number 1."

"The hell you get into now?" Ryker's voice carried a mix of concern and resignation.

"I'll explain later. Just need to know who these guys are."

"Text me the details. Give me an hour." He paused. "You safe? "

"Yeah. At the cabin."

"Keep it that way. I'll call back."

I ended the call and found Eden watching me intently, her fingers absently stroking Stella's head.

"Your brother," she said. "He's in the same line of work?"

"We're a package deal." I settled into the armchair across from her. "Been looking out for each other since we were kids."

Eden's expression softened slightly. "The rescue coordinator Margo, she said Stella's situation was 'very bad.' I've transported hundreds of dogs, and she's never used those words before."

I leaned forward. "Tell me everything from the beginning."

She took a deep breath and recounted the urgent middle-of-the-night call, the text messages offering five thousand dollars, and the chase that led to the abandoned farm.

"When that skinny guy cornered me in the barn," she continued, "Stella attacked. She protected me." Her voice cracked slightly. "A dog that's been abused her whole life, and her first instinct was to protect me."

I watched as she blinked back tears, her hand never stopping its gentle rhythm on Stella's head .

"That's not normal for a fighting dog," I remarked.

"No, it's not." Eden's eyes met mine. "Fighting dogs are trained to attack other dogs, not people. And they're certainly not trained to release on command, which she did instantly when I called her back."

I mulled this over. "So, she's had some kind of specialized training."

"Exactly." Eden nodded. "And that's why I think there's more to this than just some asshole wanting his fighting dog back."

A muffled bark from outside reminded us of the other dogs. Eden stood, stretching her stiff muscles. "I should check on them, give them water."

"I'll help." I grabbed a large metal bowl from under the sink and filled it while Eden fetched supplies from her van.

Outside, the dogs greeted us enthusiastically, tails wagging as we set up water bowls and distributed kibble. Stella had followed us out but stayed close to Eden, eyeing the food bowls warily.

"She doesn't eat around other dogs," Eden explained, noticing my observation.

I watched as she took a separate bowl and led Stella to a quiet corner of the yard, murmuring encouragement as the pit bull cautiously began to eat.

"You're good with them," I said. “How did you get into the business of transporting dogs? ”

Eden shrugged.

"I was in a bad situation once," she said, keeping her eyes on Stella rather than meeting mine. "A long time ago, I had an abusive boyfriend. When I finally got out, I had nowhere to go, so I stayed at a women's shelter in Toronto."

I watched Stella lick her bowl clean, her tail giving that hesitant half-wag that broke my heart.

"There was this woman there," she continued. "Her dog had saved her life—literally thrown himself between her and a knife. The shelter wouldn’t take the dog, so she was going to have to give him up or go back to her husband."

I remained silent, just listening.

"I had an old Civic then. Offered to drive her and the dog to her sister's place in Montreal." She smiled at the memory. "After that, word got around. Suddenly I was the person people called when a dog needed to get from point A to point B, no questions asked."

"How long have you been doing this?" I asked.

With her eyes still on Stella, she answered, "Fifteen years, thousands of miles, and hundreds of dogs later." She looked up at me finally. "Most transports are simple, shelters overcrowded in one city, space available in another. But occasionally..."

"Occasionally you get the special cases," I finished for her .

"Yeah. The ones running from something—or someone."

My phone started vibrating in my pocket. It was Ryker.

"That was fast," I said. "What'd you find?"

"Royal, you need to be careful." My brother's voice was tight, urgent. "That plate is registered to a company called Junction Security Solutions."

"Never heard of them."

"You wouldn't have. They're like us, a private military contractor—but does the dirty work the government doesn't want their fingerprints on."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. "What would they want with a rescue dog?"

"That's the million-dollar question," he said. "But I dug deeper. Junction has connections to a research facility outside Toronto. Place called Prophecies Biomedical."

Eden had moved closer, straining to hear. I put the phone on speaker.

"What kind of research?" I asked.

"Officially? Pharmaceutical testing. Unofficially..." Ryker paused. "There are rumors about military applications. Behavior modification, enhanced sensory capabilities."

Eden's face paled. "They're experimenting on dogs?"

"Among other things," Ryker confirmed. "Listen, I already booked a flight. Once I land, I’ll rent a car and will be there by morning. Don't do anything stupid until I arrive."

"No promises," I replied, ending the call.

Eden stared at Stella, who had curled up at her feet. "They experimented on her," she whispered as tears formed in her eyes. "That's why she responds to commands like she does. Why she attacked that man to protect me."

I crouched down to Stella's level, noticing for the first time a small, nearly invisible scar behind her ear. "May I?" I asked Eden.

She nodded, and I gently examined the area. The scar was surgical—precise and deliberate.

"What did they put in you, girl?" I murmured as I rubbed her silky ear.

Eden's eyes widened. "You think they implanted something?"

"I don't know. But if they did, that might explain how they've been tracking you."

She ran her fingers carefully over Stella's head. "We need to get her to a vet. Someone who can scan for a chip or whatever else might be in there."

"I know someone," I said. "A retired veterinarian who works off the books now. But it's nearly midnight—it'll have to wait until morning."

Eden nodded reluctantly. "The other dogs need to get to their new homes. Two are expected right in the village of Pearl Lake tomorrow."

"That’s exactly where the Vet is, Mackenzie Wells. He owns the store there.”

"Let me guess," Eden said with a hint of a smile. "Another one of your 'connections'?"

"You could say that." I returned her smile, feeling an unexpected warmth at the brief lightening of her mood. "Mack patched me up more than once when going to a hospital would've raised too many questions."

A sudden crash from behind the shed sent us both into high alert. Stella leapt to her feet, a low growl vibrating in her chest. I motioned for Eden to stay put and moved silently to the edge of the shed wall, keeping to the shadows as I peered into the darkness.

A raccoon scurried away from an overturned trash can, its masked face looking back guiltily before disappearing into the underbrush.

"Just wildlife," I said, shoulders relaxing. "But we should get the dogs inside for the night anyway."

Eden nodded, exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders. "They can sleep in their crates in the van. They're used to it. "

"Nonsense. There's plenty of room in here." I gestured around towards the cabin. "Let's bring them in. Safety in numbers."

I climbed the porch steps, opened the door and let out a whistle as I held the door. “Come on in, ladies and gents,” I said, as they all filed inside one by one.

“Are you sure you don’t have any training with dogs?” she asked, flashing a smile at me.

My stomach did a flip flop at the transformation on her face with that smile.

“Scouts honor. It must just be my commanding personality.”

She chuckled as she passed over the threshold and into the kitchen.

The border collie mix immediately claimed a spot near the woodstove, while the lab puppies explored every corner with boundless enthusiasm. The senior beagle huffed dramatically before settling on a throw rug, and the bonded shepherds curled together on a blanket I spread out for them.

Stella, however, remained vigilant, her eyes tracking between the windows and doors.

"She knows they're still out there," Eden murmured, collapsing onto the couch. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her hands trembled slightly as she pushed her hair back from her face.

"When's the last time you slept?" I asked, grabbing another blanket from the chest.

"Properly? About three days ago."

"Take the loft," I offered. "I'll keep watch down here."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I'm not leaving these dogs."

"Then at least lie down," I insisted, placing the blanket beside her. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

After a moment's hesitation, she stretched out on the couch, Stella immediately settling on the floor beside her. Within minutes, her breathing had deepened, exhaustion finally claiming her.

I moved quietly to the kitchen, making a fresh pot of coffee. The night stretched ahead, and I had a feeling those men weren't done searching.

My phone buzzed with a text from Ryker: "Three hours out. Found something else. Prophecies had a break-in six weeks ago. Several 'test subjects' were reported missing."

I looked over at Stella, her scarred body rising and falling with each breath, one paw protectively touching Eden's hand that dangled off the couch.

What secrets are you carrying, girl?

Dawn crept through the cabin windows, painting the room in soft gold. I hadn't meant to doze off, but the night's events had caught up with me. I jerked awake at the sound of tires on gravel, hand automatically reaching for the gun I'd set on the coffee table.

"Easy," came a familiar voice. "It's just me."

Ryker stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking the morning light.

"You made good time," I said, voice rough with sleep.

His eyes swept over the cabin, taking in the collection of dogs and settling on Eden's sleeping form on the couch. "So this is why you missed check-in last night."

I nodded toward the kitchen, and we moved there to talk without waking Eden. Stella lifted her head, watching us with intelligent eyes.

"That the one?" Ryker asked, nodding toward the pit bull.

"Yeah. Stella." I poured us both coffees. "What else did you find out?"

Ryker pulled out his phone, showing me a series of images. "Prophecies Biomedical. Officially researching neurological enhancements for military applications. Unofficially..." He swiped to a document marked 'Classified'. "Project Cerberus. Using canines as test subjects for experimental tech."

"Jesus," I muttered, scanning the technical jargon. "What kind of tech? "

"Neural implants. Enhanced sensory capabilities, improved strength and endurance, and—get this—remote command functionality."

"Remote command?" The coffee suddenly tasted bitter. "Like controlling the dog's actions?"

Ryker nodded grimly. "According to my source, they can trigger specific behaviors through the implant. It's why military dogs are perfect test subjects—already trained to follow commands, already conditioned for combat situations."

"But Stella's no military dog," I pointed out.

"No, but pit bulls have the physical capabilities they need—strength, speed, determination. And they're easier to obtain without questions."

A soft gasp made us both turn. Eden stood in the kitchen doorway, Stella at her side. Her face had gone pale.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked.

"Long enough." Her voice was steady despite the horror in her eyes. "They put something in her brain? To control her?"

Ryker looked at me, then at Eden. "Potentially. If she was part of Project Cerberus, then yes."

Eden knelt beside Stella, gently examining the scar behind her ear again. "We need to get to your vet friend. Today."