by N. D. Jones
She wondered if there were more sitcoms to watch and if she could convince Ekon to watch them with her. If she did, they’d likely kiss. Asha did enjoy Ekon’s kisses. The young lion had the softest lips and a tongue made for more than boasting.
Asha couldn’t wait to put this trip to Vumaris behind her. It had been a colossal waste of time.
“Another race when we get home, Dad?”
Asha wouldn’t win, but that never stopped her from challenging herself to be better, to be more than she was the day before. That had been the first lesson she recalled learning from her parents, and she’d taken it to heart.
Frank London cursed foully. Well, Silas thought, dropping back into his leather chair, at least his second-in-command had waited until after the door closed behind their Shona guests before launching into a bout of vile curses. Silas considered interrupting, especially when Frank referred to Sekhem Zarina by names no man should say about a woman—human or felidae.
“I thought lions were the king of the jungle. Apparently not in Shona.” Frank rounded on him, as feral as any wild felidae. “You’re just going to sit there?”
“You’re upset enough for the both of us.” With the tip of his shoe, Silas slid Frank’s chair toward him. “Calm yourself and have a seat.”
“They didn’t sign. You know the platform we ran on, the promises we made. Of course I’m not calm.”
“Sit anyway. We need to discuss next steps.”
Ignoring Silas, Frank stalked to the line of windows behind him. There wasn’t much to see beyond other restored buildings lining Imperial Street. Their headquarters was set in the historic district of Minra. A mile down the road, humans had once marched off to wage battle at Autumn Run. Two thousand soldiers had left the city, defeat of the Panthera Tigris their mission during the war. Only two hundred or so had returned—a devastating defeat—but the soldiers had come back with tiger heads, pelts, and teeth as proof that the felidae could be killed like any other animal. The young nation had used the loss at Autumn Run as a nationalist’s battle cry. When they had returned to Autumn Run the next year, with triple the soldiers and weaponry, they had claimed every acre of land the felidae tigers and cougars had dared to deny them.
Humans weren’t inferior to the felidae. The tigers and cougars had learned that lesson well, as had other felidae nations. Apparently, the Shona lions needed reminding of their place in Zafeo.
Silas didn’t like his party’s contingency plan, though. The felidae were the beasts, not civilized humans like himself and members of his political party. But, as Frank reminded him, the First Evolution Union had made promises to their supporters. If they failed to keep them, another party, likely the Fatherland Party, with their long history of dealing with and controlling felidae, would rout them from their hard-won political and social gains.
He’d worked too hard, kissed too many asses, and told too many lies to lose it all because two lions possessed more pride than common sense.
His back to Silas, Frank continued to stare out the window. The man had defected from the National Science Union Party, bringing with him a more conservative, anti-felidae element that didn’t exist in Silas’s party. The conservatives weren’t Silas’s base of supporters, but they were Frank’s. Until this round of elections, neither of their parties had possessed enough political clout and deep pockets to oust the long-standing Fatherland Party.
Together, though, Silas Royster and Frank London were a winning combination—a force no one, not even the Fatherland Party, could stop. That included Bambara and Zarina Leothos of the Kingdom of Shona.
Finally, Frank rejoined Silas at the conference table, his too-large eyes reminiscent of an owl’s, though the man pretended as though he didn’t require glasses for reading small print. “We promised them land.”
“I know.” Silas reached for his full glass of water.
The meeting had been so short, the ice had barely melted. The three glasses on the other side of the table were also untouched. Khalid Bambara had taken one look at the glasses, sniffed each of them in turn, as if someone on his staff would be so stupid as to slip poison into the water, and then ignored them. His wife and daughter had done the same.
Silas drank half of the cool water before returning it to the coaster on the table, feeling better for having something in his stomach other than butterflies.
“This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. It’s not as easy to take land from the felidae the way the Fatherland Party once did. They also never went up against the lions. Everyone, including you, seems to forget that they left the Shona kingdom alone, and it’s not because the southern part of the continent has two seasons—hot and hell.”
“We made promises.”
“I don’t need the reminding.”
Frank blinked those big owl eyes at him. “I think you do. You see immovable barriers where I see cats in need of neutering.”
Silas’s scoff didn’t begin to cover the depth of his concern with the contingency plan his political aspirations had him agreeing to without the ethical hesitation a less driven man would’ve had. Still, were they prepared to enter the republic into a war with the lions over a political promise made during an election campaign when everyone said what people wanted to hear?
“The Fatherland Party left the lions alone for a reason. They are the only felidae who’ve always worked together as a cohesive unit. They’ve only ever lived exactly where they do now. Their roots are in that land. The first felidae can be traced to the grassy plains of EarthBorough at the very southern tip of the continent.”
“Then they shouldn’t have a problem with us taking some of their northern areas. They can keep their grassy plains, dry-thorn forests, woodlands, scrubs,” Frank said and waved a dismissive hand, “or wherever they enjoy lying down with flies. For them to be no better than animals on two legs, they’ve developed quite the financial center, and it’s all in northern Shona.”
“They aren’t stupid.”
“I agree, but their strength is also their weakness.” Frank retrieved a manila folder from the briefcase he’d placed on the chair beside him before the meeting began. “Take a look.”
Silas opened the folder Frank slid in front of him. Inside were at least three dozen glossy pictures of the Shona royal family. None of them had been taken close-up; likely a long-range photo lens was used, but the three figures were identifiable.
As Silas flipped through the pictures of the Leothos family—laughing, smiling, and talking—Frank added commentary.
“That one was taken in Menle. Those right there in Batari. Oh, and those four in Tanset. Notice anything?”
“You have an international stalker on your payroll, and the khalid and sekhem take a hands-on approach to economic diplomacy, traveling to other felidae countries, which is how they’ve amassed so much wealth.”
Greed and power made strange bedfellows. Silas didn’t so much dislike Frank as he distrusted him. They were only six months into their term, but the pictures spanned at least two years. Even without a date on the back of the pictures, Silas could’ve estimated the timeframe based on the images of Asha alone. Like his daughter, a female growing from girl to young woman changed more than a father liked to notice. But changes to their face and body were present all the same.
“Everything we want is staring you right in the face and you still can’t see it.” Frank snatched the picture of Zarina and Asha walking on a beach, barefoot and in sundresses, Shieldmanes on either side of them.
Silas drank the rest of his water, thirsty for more than the cool liquid.
“They take her everywhere.” Frank slapped the picture on top of the others and closed the folder.
“So? Asha is their only child and heir. Do you expect them to leave her at home while they globe-trot?”
“Lionesses don’t leave their young.”
Silas may not think the felidae equal to humans, but he never confused their ability to transmutate into cats with them actually being like
the felines into which they could transform. Except a few physical differences, such as vitiligo of the cheetah felidae, little visually distinguished those with an active felidae gene from their human counterparts.
“Parents love their children. That’s kind of the point of having them. Lions are social, communal, fierce. They put family and pride above everything, which is why the Fatherland Party was never brave or stupid enough to go up against them. They are . . .” Silas trailed off, not liking where his mind had taken him or the smile on Frank’s face.
“You’ve finally caught up. Now we’re on the same page, Silas. The tigers and cougars were relatively easy to kill off. The tigers were tougher than the cougars, but they lived more like loose colonies than a strong confederation. By the time they moved past their narrow-minded independence to work as a united front against our forefathers, it was too late to save them. But the lions,” Frank said and opened the manila folder again, “they are a pride . . . a family. That’s their weakness. They’ll sign because we’ll take away the one thing lions care about more than land.” With a thump of his index finger to the picture of a smiling mother and daughter, Frank’s hand hovered over the image of Asha, heir to the Kingdom of Shona.
Frank stretched across the table until he was able to grab the two folded sheets of paper Sekhem Zarina had left. He opened the sheets that contained the addendum, smoothing out the wrinkles. “For her, they’ll sign. For her, we can get them to do anything.”
Silas thought how he and his wife would feel if they awoke one morning to find their daughter’s bed empty and her gone. Desperation and fear would assault him first followed by anger, but also the willingness to do anything to have her returned unharmed.
“They’re staying at Sanctum Hotel, a luxury hotel neither of us can afford. It must be nice to come from a country where your currency is the third highest in the world.”
Grabbing a picture from the bottom of the pile, Frank showed it to Silas. “I know where they’re staying. Sanctum Hotel is expensive, true, but also secluded. Their kali may have bought them the sole use of the finest hotel in this part of Vumaris, but their wealth has also given us the perfect place to execute our plan.” Frank’s self-satisfied grin reached his big owl eyes. “We have friends in all the right places, Silas.”
More like the lowliest of places. But Silas had both taken their money and made them promises. Failure to repay his debts was not an option.
He looked at the picture of Sanctum Hotel. The building was situated in a quiet suburb south of Minra in the center of affluent gated communities. Most dignitaries stayed at the hotel when visiting Minra, the capital of Vumaris. But none of them had the money or the clout to reserve the 180-room hotel for their stay.
A part of Silas despised the Shona for having the power to do what most humans could not, as much as he envied the slice of heaven they’d carved for themselves in southern Zafeo. Unlike Silas, Khalid Bambara and Sekhem Zarina were beholden to no one.
That would soon change, however. “Call them. But tell them not to hurt anyone beyond what it’ll take to secure the girl. We can’t afford an international incident, and I don’t want a child’s death on my conscience.”
Frank’s twisted grin widened. “I spoke with the shift manager at the hotel this morning. I convinced the woman she wouldn’t lose her job if she supplied the deputy chief with the room numbers for the Shona. The girl’s suite is across the hall from her parents’. Rogueshade is already on standby. With a phone call and a go-ahead from me, they’ll be at Sanctum Hotel when the sun sets. By morning, we’ll have the girl and all the leverage we’ll need to get our addendum signed. Don’t look so worried, Silas. In a day, maybe two, we’ll have everything we need to secure our place in Vumaris history. Our party will be unbeatable once we’ve made northern Shona ours. A girl’s innocence is a small price to pay for success.”
Silas wasn’t so sure, but he nodded, grinned, and eyed the picture of the Sanctum Hotel again. “Okay, yeah, fine. Make the call.”
Chapter 2: Pure One
The Republic of Vumaris
Batari County, Minra
Sanctum Hotel
“May I be excused?”
Ekon smiled at the sugary sweet and oh so innocent way Asha had posed the question to her mother. Everyone knew between Khalid Bambara and Sekhem Zarina, when it came to Asha, the sekhem was the disciplinarian and the khalid the Maine Coon, the sweetest natured of the domestic cat breeds.
Several hours ago, the royal family had ended their meeting earlier than expected. The Shieldmanes had surrounded them as soon they’d exited the conference room, with Ekon pulling up the rear beside Mafdet, Asha’s First Shieldmane, although she wasn’t a felidae lion like all the other royal bodyguards. Ekon once asked Mafdet how a felidae cheetah had become Shieldmane to the Shona family. She spoke when it suited her. Mafdet had yet to answer his question.
Only Ekon and Mafdet were in the suite with the royal family. The other four Shieldmanes patrolled the large hotel, everyone’s hunger sated after a delicious meal at the hotel’s restaurant.
Asha grinned up at her mother, golden-brown eyes as beautiful as the young woman. She wasn’t a spitting image of Sekhem Zarina, a six-foot female with golden eyes, a curvy figure she’d caught the khalid gazing at on more than one occasion, and full lips that concealed a tongue capable of stripping flesh from bone. Her curly golden-onyx hair framed her face like a lion’s mane. It was this defining feature that Sekhem Zarina had passed on to Asha. The inheritance was as much her birthright as the title of Sekhem would eventually become. The name Asha, which meant life in the Ebox language of felidae lions, would be relegated to her past once she ascended to the throne. When that momentous time came, two or three decades in the future, Sekhem Zarina would bestow on her daughter a different name. One befitting her new status as Alpha of the Kingdom of Shona.
“What do you plan on doing this evening?” Sekhem Zarina asked Asha. “Fill your head with human situation comedies or blast their foul music, the way you did last night? Really, Asha, I don’t know how you stand to listen to and watch such inanity.”
“Everything here isn’t bad.”
“Yes, I know. But there is much corruption in this country, and I don’t want you influenced by what passes as their culture.”
“Music and laughter won’t corrupt me. That’s what my friends are for.”
Khalid Bambara laughed. Sekhem Zarina and Mafdet did not. Ekon also laughed, but on the inside.
Hands at his sides, Ekon stood near the suite door, the same way Mafdet had positioned herself in the threshold between the suite’s living room, where the royal family was, and the master bedroom behind her. Like Ekon, Mafdet wore black pants, boots, and suit jacket with a white shirt—his button-up, hers a V-neck blouse. Unlike Ekon, Mafdet carried more than a high-powered handgun. In a sheath strapped to her thigh was a wicked sixteen-inch sword blade with oversized spikes on the knuckle guard handle. A month on the job, he’d mustered the courage to inquire as to her sword’s name because everyone knew all blade-carrying felidae had a name for their weapon. Mafdet hadn’t answered that question either. How in the hell did the sekhem expect Mafdet to train him when the Shieldmane spoke in nods, snorts, and grunts?
“Are you planning on entertaining us with what you’ve learned from watching Vumarian television?”
“I would, but you’re making fun of me.”
Sekhem Zarina leaned down and kissed Asha’s forehead. “Only a little. I don’t have to ask if you comprehended what transpired today with Royster and London. I know you grasped the larger point not expressed in their addendum.”
“Humans are rarely satisfied with what they already possess, even when they think they are. Eventually, they will seek more and more, if they believe the acquisition will make them happier, give them something they conclude is missing from their lives.”
“Quite right. Lack of satisfaction, even peace within, makes one restless, greedy . . .”
/> “Dangerous,” Khalid Bambara finished.
“Yes, very dangerous. That’s why we’ll not stay in this country longer than is required. We don’t trust the new Chief and Deputy Chief. We’re tempted to leave tonight, foregoing a meeting with the leader of the Common Peace Coalition Party.”
That surprised Ekon. To his knowledge, Shona stayed out of foreign affairs involving Vumaris. From Asha’s nod, she’d known about the meeting.
Khalid Bambara settled his hand on his mate’s back, an outward display of their inner love.
One day, Ekon would like to express his feelings for Asha in the same way—a taken-for-granted touch that wouldn’t garner a single raised eyebrow. He possessed no desire to become khalid, but he did wish to one day stand by Asha’s side as her loving and devoted mate. Again, like her ascension to sekhem, that dream was years into the future. Ekon had yet to demonstrate his worth as a Shieldmane, much less as a worthy mate to the heiress of the Kingdom of Shona.
“But,” Khalid Bambara said, “Shona can no longer continue its isolationist ways when it comes to Vumaris. Today has only served to reinforce what your mother and I already know. We need allies on this side of the continent. That may mean opening our borders to them, but we are far from making such a decision. We believe, or at least we hope, Mi Sun Choi’s Common Peace Coalition Party can become a trusted ally. If not . . . well, that’s for a later family discussion.” The hand on Sekhem Zarina’s back lowered to her hip, and Khalid Bambara stepped closer to his mate. “You did well today, hafsa, and your mother is only teasing.”
“I know.” With a step backward, Asha moved away from her parents. “So, umm, may I be excused?” She nodded to Mafdet. “I know you’ll want to speak with Mafdet about our departure plans.”
