Shifter King

The plane's engine rumbles beneath my feet and the white plastic walls shake like a 9.0 earthquake. All I can do is hold my stomach and fight the urge to vomit. Why me? I ask myself as I swallow back the sour taste of bile and inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Somewhere, years ago, I read this relieves queasiness. Ha. Just another reason I don't miss the internet. The cabin of the plane is a stripped-down passenger jet that's seen better days. Scratch that, this plane has lived through a world of hurt and somehow came out the other side. Its ability to stay in the air is questionable, yet somehow the pilot got it off the ground. The original rows of seats were pulled out and now there are only two rows facing each other from opposite sides of the center aisle. The old cracked vinyl of my seat pokes my bare skin below the stupid black skirt I'm wearing, making a miserable experience worse. The powers that be assured me the older aircraft offered the best chance

The seat belt digs into my belly during the loud and bumpy landing. After we stop rolling, I release the armrests and rub my sweaty palms against my skirt. I don't care if I leave stains on the material, this outfit is ridiculous. If I had something to change into, I'd do it. King's rules were strict-one female liaison, no weapons, no luggage, no men besides the pilot, who is not to leave the plane. No explanation. Sun shines through the small windows of the cabin, the ocean I just evaded in the background. A group of Shadow Warriors waits on the black tarmac showing no signs the heat bothers them. Even in human form they're huge-large black straps crisscross their bare chests accenting each uncovered muscle. Adding to their intimidation stance, the straps hold enough weapons to take down my plane. Even without the weapons, their sheer intimidating power works its magic on me and I quake in my heels. Lovely. I guess I should be happy they're clothed from the waist

The temperature inside the vehicle rose ten degrees in the seconds before King jumped out. I've heard that when angered, a Shadow Warrior's body temperature elevates. I think my father mentioned it once. Feeling the heat sweep through the car is different from hearing about it. King's reaction when learning I'm the new secretary of defense is entirely unexpected. Laughter would have been more understandable. I fear the U.S. government withheld the key pieces needed to solve this riddle. Bottom line... I'm expendable and I knew it before I took the oath of office. One brave moment in my life is turning into the nightmare I feared it would be. The driver stomps his foot on the gas and takes off, leaving King behind. Neither man in the front seat acts like I'm in the car. I'm left alone to ponder the situation with nothing but questions. I give it a shot by asking something simple. "How long until we reach our destination?" They ignore me and I sink back against the u

I cut the engine on the motorcycle and roll to a stop in front of the citadel. It's a facade. My main residence is much cozier and fits my farm boy roots more. If the woman leaves here, we want her superiors learning as little as possible about us. Two guards open the doors and I enter. The sun is an hour from setting, so it's the warmest part of the day indoors. We prefer heat over cold due to the K-5 that is always just beneath the surface. I glance over my shoulder. "Boot and the woman?" I ask. "Boot is in your office," Knet's angry tone follows me. Knet isn't happy with his current duty. It's his punishment for repeated transgressions against my authority. Nothing major or he would be recovering from a sound beating. I head toward my temporary office. The door is slightly ajar and I push it open and enter the ten by ten mostly bare room. Boot is at my desk with his son, Che. My ire rises and they both look up. "Hi, Che," I say as I ruffle his hair

Watching her eat with uninhibited pleasure excited me. She has no idea her government is full of crap about their food supplies. I saw what the leaders ate and it wasn't the garbage they fed us. They might package and save some of their crops, but the best selection goes to the entitled few. This was another reason I respected Marinah's father. He ate with his troops no matter how revolting the food was. The man also didn't have to lead his men on the battlefield. He could have sat in an office, taken reports, and given orders to be carried out by someone else. But he cared about his men, and the manner of his death showed his feelings went far beyond human compassion. But now I'm wondering who exactly Marinah is and how dedicated she is to the Federation. There's no simple answer. I'm American. I grew up on a farm, was raised by my father, and had no idea what I was until my tenth birthday when he sat me down and explained the truth. I listened, thinking it was a joke ev