Marinah picks up Labyrinth and tosses him over her shoulder like he weighs forty pounds and not three hundred and forty. The black dress is in tatters, only covering parts of her massive form. Mrs. Barnes opens groggy eyes, and I set her on her feet. I give her one minute to find her balance. "Move," I order when her time's up. She cries and sniffs and squeals, and sniffs some more while she tries to run. Her bravado is gone. The pointed heels of her shoes become a problem. With a growl, I pick her up and flip her over my shoulder the same way Marinah holds Labyrinth. Her shriek is music to my ears, but we don't need the noise so I slam my hand down on the backs of her exposed thighs. She shrieks once before she decides silence is best. We run without stopping and make it to the rendezvous point in thirty minutes. Mrs. Barnes crumples to the ground when I try to place her on her feet. She can rest here and wallow in her bad fortune. Alden doesn't take his eyes from the presiden
I head to the training field and beat up on all comers for the next two hours. My men look at me in fear by the time I'm through. I'm going to be a father and I should be ecstatic. All I feel is fear, and it's not something I'm accustomed to. Strangling my mate might help. A baby. We could have lost our child before I knew about him or her. My thoughts return to strangulation. My men practically fall to the ground when I head back to my room to shower. Thankfully, Marinah found another place to be. I need time before I deal with her. I shower, dress in fresh clothes, and I leave the room. Labyrinth's body is in his quarters. His funeral will be tonight along with the Shadow Warriors lost in the Federation's attack. Beck, Nokita, Cabel, and Alden stand outside Labyrinth's door, their faces somber. "Marinah is with him," rebukes Beck. He's angry he didn't go with us and it's not his death. Marinah made the right decision on who she took on our mi
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
Shadow Warriors are elite fighters-larger and stronger than humans. They're the polar opposite of hell's spawn because they think and strategize, making them a more formidable enemy. Because of fear, bigotry, and thinking the Shadow Warriors might overthrow the new government, the Federation almost started another war when the threat of the hellhounds receded. Thanks to the government's screw up, I have this nice advancement in office and I'm on a mad dash to repair relations with the good monsters. It's basically a suicide mission. King, the reigning leader of the Shadow Warriors, requested a female liaison. That's King as in Cher or Prince. He provided no other name, so I'll work with it. The question is: Will King work with me? After the president swore me into office, he said roping in King is my number one priority. I'm not personally responsible for the mistakes made at the end of Hell's War, but my orders are to apologize-a.k.a. beg, plead, or do anything else to g
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
Beast slithering beneath my skin is not a good sign. No human should affect me this way. I know who she is and that's not who I expected. My control among Shadow Warriors is legendary. With the smell and taste of her father in her blood I shouldn't react this savagely. Church was a good man who I owe a great debt and there's no reason his bloodline should spike my anger. If anything, it should calm me simply because she's female. I grind my teeth and force Beast to recede. It matters not that she's Church's daughter. Our kind judges a person on their own merit. If the U.S. government thought to sway us by sending her, they're wrong. Maybe it's the Federation's never-ending manipulations that have Beast on edge. The woman follows at least ten feet behind me. It does not speak well for her backbone. I glance at the soldiers waiting by the vehicle. Even though they remain stoic, I know they're disturbed about my interaction with the woman. All accept Beck. He displays his displeasu
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
Beast eventually settles. Nokita stays far enough away to avoid a fight but close enough to do his job, which is protect me. When I'm calmer, I wave him over. "Shift and run with me," I rumble from enlarged jaws and elongated teeth. "Adjust my gear belts first." Our military fatigue pants consist of tough stretch material that expands with our form. The waist belt and crisscrossing leather chest straps do not stretch, though. They have only enough give so they don't snap when we morph. When we're in this form, our claws are incapable of fine motor skills. Now that I'm calmer, I notice the discomfort of my gear. I want the ability to breathe comfortably while I run off more energy. I stand still as Nokita adjusts the straps and then fine-tunes his own. Our beast form resembles no real or mythical animal. We could never pass as anything but your worst nightmare. Our entire body undergoes changes when we transform. Bones crack and reshape and our jaw elongates while o