The Inheritance

Mike smiled as Taryn recounted all the problems with the movie. Sadly, he couldn't argue with her on many points. The movie had been a bit of a disappointment. Tying together so many characters while bringing in others had seemed to short-change all the characters and the movie suffered for it.

"That's far enough," a voice hissed from the alley. "Just give up the wallets and you can go home."

Taryn gasped and would have bolted, but Mike slipped in front of her as he took her arm.

"We're not looking for any trouble," Mike said as he heard the hammer click back.

Mike felt dizzy as he looked at the man. Middle aged, mid to upper thirties by his appearance. Well dressed, though not extravagant. Suddenly, Mike saw a smiling brunette holding one boy's hand while balancing a girl on her hip as this man kissed them all.

"You're Jason," Mike continued. "Good! Though you may not have liked the inactivity, I am glad that you were fired. You . . ."

"How did you know . . ." Jason began, the gun beginning to shake.

"Easy, Jason," Mike said. "We don't want, or need, any accidents here.

"I'm looking for a good C.P.A.," Mike explained. "I'm going to need someone to look over my records and the records of my inheritance and some projects I'm working on."

"Mike!" Taryn snapped.

"It's all right," Mike said soothingly. "Jason is a good guy. However, when his firm closed the local office, he was laid off. Things are a bit tight and he has some things to take care of, including his family.

"We're going to take him shopping," Mike continued gently. "He needs to pick up some groceries, including a birthday cake and present for his son. Monday, he's going to speak with my lawyer about going over my bank records.

"This is just a misunderstanding," Mike nodded as Jason just gaped at him and Taryn's hand dug into his arms."

"Do I know you?" Jason asked.

"Not really," Mike admitted. "You did some work for my father some years ago, I think.

"Come on, Jason," Mike said softly. "Let this just be a mistake. You can use the groceries, you don't want to shoot a couple of kids, and your family wants you back. Will you start work for me on Monday?"

Jason froze for a long moment, thinking, and the gun started wavering in his hand. Finally, as the gun fell to his side, Jason nodded.

"Excellent," Mike said, feeling he had just accomplished something. "Truly excellent. Now, why don't you toss that in there and we can hit the shops to get what you need for the party tonight."

Jason looked down at the weapon in his hand. Falling to his knees, tears started sliding down his cheeks as he realized what he had almost done.

"Easy, Jason," Mike said softly. "It was just a mistake. You're going to be all right. Your family is going to be all right and I really need your help."

Though it took a moment, Jason stopped weeping. Rising, he put the gun in the dumpster and turned back to the people he had almost robbed.

"You can call the cops now," Jason sighed. "I won't resist."

"No," Mike said with a smile. "You made a mistake, but, everyone and everything is all right. I really do need a C.P.A. That is work I know you can do."

"You're really not calling the cops?" Taryn asked, surprised. "He tried to rob us, he could have shot us."

"Taryn," Mike interrupted as Jason winced. "This is Jason. He needs our help. He lost his job through no fault of his own. His family needs him and I need his help. Will you help us get by this mistake?"

Taryn looked at Mike for a long moment before sighing and nodding agreement. When he smiled back in appreciation, she felt the butterflies beating in her stomach. He had no right to be that hunky with his new body, Taryn decided.

As he helped Jason shop for food and gifts, Mike was distracted by the thought that his mother knew something. Thankfully, Taryn was there to help with ideas for the cake and the gift.

"Why did you really help that guy?" Taryn asked as Mike drove her back to his house. "Honestly, we could have called the cops once you talked him out of robbing us."

"He was at the end of his rope," Mike explained after a moment. "A wife, two kids, a mortgage and a car payment. He was devastated when he lost his job.

"He just wanted something nice," Mike continued as Taryn opened her mouth. "For his son, for his family. And, I really do need a C.P.A. By helping him I also helped his family and I helped myself."

"How did you know all that stuff?" Taryn said as Mike pulled into the drive. "You never spent time with your dad, you wouldn't know what accountant he used."

"That," Mike chuckled. "Is the true question."

Taryn, of course, told his mother all about what had happened. Expanding on the actual danger rather than on the plight of the man involved.

"He was in trouble, Mom," Mike explained as Jennifer looked towards him, horrified. "He needed our help, not our money."

Jennifer nodded, waved her hands and said something.

Mike caught Taryn as she passed out.

"Yes," Mike said as he lay his friend down on the sofa. "I thought you might know something."

"My family's women have ever been caretakers," Jennifer said as she walked to the dinner table. "Your father escaped us as he married while at college."

"Caretakers of what, Mom?" Mike asked as he joined her. "You know something and I would like to find out what?"

"Your line," Jennifer started. "The male line, are the bearers of the Armor of Min. Min was a preliterate pagan god. Later, he became a part of the Egyptian line of gods. However, he predates even them.

"Seldom," Jennifer continued. "Do we interbreed. However, as your grandfather died suddenly, we were not with your father and he married before we got someone on him.

"I was sent in to tie a string to him," Jennifer explained. "Your father liked his women lush. None of those skinny, stick figure women for him. A trait you share, by the way."

"That's your fault," Mike chuckled. "You were always the standard I had for beauty."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Jennifer smiled. "That's very kind of you.

"Your line will only ever have one male heir," Jennifer continued her story. "One man to bear responsibility for the Armor. Be it as caretaker, or true wielder depends on the person.

"With that," Jennifer sighed. "You will unlock many gifts. However, once the power transferred to you, you inherited many enemies."

"Where am I getting all the information?" Mike asked. "I seem to know things I shouldn't just by looking at something or thinking about something."

"Anywhere anything grows," Jennifer smiled. "Anything that causes something to grow is part of you now. How you use it, learn it, and learn to control it, is all up to you."

"That's why you always had me work," Mike nodded after a moment. "So I could appreciate what I had. So I could appreciate what it meant to work for something."

"Yes," Jennifer explained. "But, I also wanted you to be a responsible person. A responsible person accepts that he has responsibility for himself, his community, and his children.

"As you are your father's son," Jennifer sighed. "You will need to care for his other children as well."

Mike sat thinking over everything his mother had said for a long time, finally looking up into her eyes.

"You said I was just a string to tie dad to you," Mike said softly. "What string is going to be tied to me?"

"Me," Jennifer said with a smile as she took his hand. "Later, someone closer to your own age.

"I didn't mean . . ."

"I know, Mom," Mike smiled. "But, you never beat around the bush either. You've loved me every day I was alive and raised me right."

Jennifer's smile deepened and she squeezed Mike's hand.

"Come on," Jennifer said, rising. "Let's get you trained properly."

Mike gasped as Taryn rose from the couch and stripped before them.

"Close your eyes," Jennifer said softly. "Think of a time that you and I shared. Something that stands out in your mind."

"The first time I made you breakfast," Mike smiled. "I was too young to cook. I brought up a box of cereal, milk, juice, and glasses. When I woke you up with a kiss, you laughed and kissed me again and again.

"Then," Mike continued. "You took me downstairs because I had forgot to grab spoons for our cereal."

Mike gasped as his mother sent her consciousness into his mind. He felt her amusement at the memory and her pleasure that he had kept it as something special.

"You can do this with anyone," Jennifer showed him. "But, I need an emotional bond before I can get in. Did you see how I did it?"

Mike nodded and showed her what he had seen.

"Yes," Jennifer agreed. "I want you to do that with Taryn. She has some self-esteem issues and we're going to fix that. Plus, I want you to look at her body while you're in there."

Calming his mind, Mike grounded his consciousness before slipping into Taryn's mind. He understood what he mother was talking about almost instantly as he felt the poison in Taryn's system. Following the line, he fixed her kidneys and cleaned her blood. He thought further and tightened her skin, raising the elasticity so that she would age gracefully.

Continuing his investigation, Mike saw her discomfiture with her physique. Taking a moment, he rounded the swell of her hips, tightened and toned her abdominal muscles and the muscles on her lower back. Once that was finished, he rearranged the fat cells in her body. It took a moment, but he was finally satisfied with the look of the 32 C cup breasts.

After a moment's consideration, Mike gave her a landing strip just above her clit. A moment more and he removed the ability to grow hair outside that area. With that thought, he ensured that she would never need to shave her legs or armpits again.

"Very nice," Jennifer smiled. "Your father liked his women bald."

Mike came back to himself and dropped to his knees in exhaustion.

"Let's go upstairs," Jennifer suggested. "You need to replace your energy."

"Oh, yes," Taryn said and Mike looked up in surprise. "Mike deserves a reward for this."

"Any port in a storm," Jennifer smiled as she helped Mike back to his feet. "There are some things it is just easier to show you when there is someone else with you."

Mike nodded and followed the women to his mother's room.