Shifter Wars Complete Series

by Sarah J. Stone

  Emmanuel laughed. "You are too serious, my friend. Please, have a seat and relax. Let Emmanuel get you a little something to drink."

  Emmanuel disappeared from where he had been sitting, and I caught a brief flash of the man as he passed by the crack of the door with angry steps. It was hard for me to be sure, but I was nearly certain that he was the man from Grand Central.

  But before I could think too long about it, a whooshing sounded through the living room, followed by the sight of large, scaled wings appearing in the crack of the door. The wings spanned over a dozen feet, and they had the same blue tint as the man's eyes. They beat back and forth in one large buffet, followed by the smashing of a glass and a shriek of terror from Emmanuel.

  "What are you doing?" Emmanuel shouted.

  I struggled to scoot under Jack, who was watching the proceedings with narrow eyes. He moved his body just a bit, enough for me to squeeze against him. Despite my heart pounding, I couldn't help but notice how hard his body was.

  But once I turned my focus back to the living room, thoughts of anything else were banished. There were wings, all right, massive wings that sprouted from Mr. Ax's back and spanned the width of the living room. Emmanuel was held aloft by Mr. Ax, who had the man by the throat. Emmanuel struggled and gasped against Mr. Ax's grip, but whatever strength he had seemed to be no match for the man holding him.

  "You are a fool, Martin," Mr. Ax said, his voice shifting into a pitch that was even lower and more inhuman than the one in which he already spoke, one that rumbled in my bones and quaked in my stomach. "The plans that I was stupid enough to bring you in on are ones I've been formulating for years. Your inclusion was nothing more than a matter of you being in the right place at the right time. You're nothing but a pawn, and I won't have my ambitions ruined by a fool like you. If you're unable to perform the task that I have entrusted you with, then I'll find someone who will."

  With that, he tossed Emmanuel, flinging him on the door that Jack and I were looking through, slamming it shut. I heard a pressure against the door as Emmanuel leaned against it to stand. I scrambled away from the door, my arm slipping out from under me, connecting with the leg of a nearby desk. My eyes shot up at a small vase filled with lavender flowers that lolled on its circular base, each spin slower and wider.

  Seconds later, it toppled over, hitting the ground and shattering. Jack shot me a hot glance followed by a wince as he prepared for whatever was going to be the consequence of my latest screw-up.

  "What the hell was that?" Emmanuel shouted.

  "Forget about it," Mr. Ax said. "I need you to agree to being more careful in the future. No wild nights out, no bottle service, no women- nothing, until this plan is in motion."

  "Aw, you're killing me!" Emmanuel shouted.

  Mr. Ax must've shot him the withering gaze to end all withering gazes, because nothing but silence followed.

  "We need to leave. Now," Jack hissed as he scanned the room, his eyes settling on a door on the other side.

  "Of course, of course," Emmanuel said.

  "Good. Consider this your last warning. I don't want to have to go to the trouble of replacing you, but if it comes to that, I will—without a second's hesitation."

  Next, something opened, followed by the rushing of wind, then a heavy shutting.

  Did Mr. Ax fly out? But my thinking was cut short.

  "Fuckin' asshole dragon-man," Emmanuel said. "Thinks he owns the goddamn city."

  Jack pointed to the other door, and I got the hint. We moved slowly and carefully toward it, taking care to not put a hand into the jagged shards of the vase.

  "And what was that goddamn noise?"

  I shot a wide-eyed look toward Jack, who responded by pointing at the door, an intense expression on his face. I got the hint. Footsteps sounded in the living room as we reached the other side of the room. Jack opened the door, and we both quickly slid into the bathroom and shut the door behind us. After this, the bedroom door opened and Emmanuel walked in.

  "What the hell? Who broke my vase? Is someone in here?"

  Luckily, there was a second entrance to the bathroom. We shuffled over and scooted out of it. My heart was pounding in my chest and my vision felt blurry. We had been so close to being caught. However, we were now in the hallway where the service elevator was located.

  "Someone here?" shouted Emmanuel, his voice carrying through the apartment.

  Then, the bathroom door, the first one that we'd come through, opened.

  "Elevator!" Jack hissed.

  We made our way toward it as fast as we could while still moving quietly. Jack pressed the round, silver button and we waited. I was so scared I wanted to cry, but right as the other bathroom door opened, the elevator arrived. We ducked in, and Jack slammed the close button. The doors slid shut, and we were on our way down.

  I let out a sigh that took every molecule of air from my body. My hands shook as the elevator hurried to the ground floor.

  "Did he see us?" I asked, fear edging my voice.

  "No," Jack said. "I think we got out just in time."

  A ding sounded, and the elevator doors opened to the service hallway. Jack hurried out, and I followed him behind the building.

  "We've got a bigger problem than I thought," Jack said, pulling out his phone.

  "Why? Is he coming?" I asked, looking back over my shoulder.

  "No," Jack said. "Those documents in that secret room? They were notes on how to kill a dragon."

  CHAPTER 5

  NADIA

  Thirty minutes later, we were in some dive bar in Williamsburg, the neighborhood where Jack lived. The place was nothing but dim orange lights and dark brown wood, like an old study with poor lighting and no windows. A small fire crackled in a nearby fireplace.

  "One old-fashioned and one club soda with lime," the bartender said, some hipster-type with a curly mustache and suspenders.

  "Thanks," I said.

  Part of me wanted a drink after what we'd been through, but it was still my first day on the job and I wanted to keep my wits about me. Jack brought his drink to his lips and took a long sip.

  "Okay, tell me what you saw on the notes," I said.

  "Just what I told you: Emmanuel is trying to figure out how to kill a dragon."

  "But…isn't that impossible?" I asked. "Dragons are hundreds of years old."

  "Some older than that," Jack said, fishing the orange rind out of his drink.

  "You can't just kill them, right?"

  "You can kill anything," Jack said. "It's just a matter of how difficult it is."

  "Well, I know they're not immortal," I said. "But I just figured that they'd be, you know, practically invincible to regular shifters like us."

  "You'd think so. But that's also a useful thing to have shifters believe when you're trying to run a city, right?"

  "That…makes some kind of sense."

  The dragons were the most powerful, the most distant, and the most mysterious of all the shifter species. Whereas the other species in the city had their own societies and clearly defined territories, the dragons preferred to watch over things from afar, leaving us to mind our own affairs. They let the species have their fights and territory disputes amongst themselves, only stepping in when they deemed it necessary for whatever reason. And their intervention was never in the open. One of the elders would approach the other in public, offering some kind of concession to end the conflict.

  I remember seeing one of the fox elders from my society's Three after it was rumored he met with a dragon regarding our dispute with the Lions over some disputed sliver of territory in Brooklyn where our borders met. The member of the Three, a prim woman named Jessica Kunstler, appeared before many of us, let us know that peace had been achieved. Though her fearful disposition made it clear that jubilation wasn't the emotion driving her at that moment. Rumor had it that the war was determined by the dragons to be not in their best interests, and that if she wanted to retain her position—as well as her life�
��she would need to broker peace. And just like that, the fight we'd been gearing up for during the last few months was over.

  I was little at the time, but I remember being happy that fighting wasn't going to happen. Others, however, grumbled about how none of us had any independence because of the dragons. After all, if they could just call off a war whenever it was convenient, didn't that suggest that any conflict they did allow to happen was pointless, or even served no other purpose than to further whatever interests the dragons had in mind? I remember wondering if interaction between the species was all planned in this way, to keep us fighting or at peace, depending on what their convenience, all to make sure that no species ever became powerful enough to challenge the dragons. After all, as long as I could remember, all the species stayed about evenly powerful. But who knows.

  "It makes plenty of sense," Jack said, snapping me back into reality. "And that dragon…"

  "Yes?" I asked.

  "I know him."

  "Really?" I asked. "How?"

  "That's not important," Jack said. "But he's not to be trusted."

  He took a sip of his drink, tense and on edge. His gaze was off somewhere to the side, and I allowed my eyes to linger on his strong profile. I hated to admit it, considering how much of a dick Jack was acting toward me, but he was really goddamn hot. I felt my eyes hang on his red, sensual lips, moving along to the hint of pecs on display from the V-neck T-shirt he wore. Without thinking, I began to chew softly on my lower lip as my fingers moved up and down the slim straw poking out of my drink.

  Get it together, Nadia, I thought, trying to talk some sense into my wandering eyes.

  "So, tell me about yourself," Jack said, turning back toward me.

  "Huh, what?" I stammered, feeling like I'd been caught leering, though he didn't seem to have noticed what I was doing.

  "Why are you here? Why did you decide to join the Sapiens?"

  "Um, why do you ask?"

  "Because, whether I want it that way or not, you and I are going to be working together. At least for this case."

  "Yep," I said.

  "I was thinking that this might be an open-and-shut kind of thing, probably that Emmanuel was dealing some drugs on the side or something like that. But if dragons are involved…let's just say that this probably isn't going to be as simple as I'd anticipated."

  "Seems that way."

  "So, we might as well get to know each other."

  I got the sense that he wasn't asking entirely out of interest. I could easily picture Ms. Delahunt commanding Jack in her stern tone to get to know me, to make me feel welcome to the Sapiens. But, I figured, courtesy is courtesy. "So…you want to know why I'm doing this?"

  "Right. No offense, but you don't really strike me as the secret agent type."

  "Should I be offended by that?" I asked, a little smile forming on one corner of my mouth.

  "I'll leave the decision to take offense entirely up to you," he said, returning my smirk with one of his own.

  "Putting the ball in my court, huh?" I said. "Well, I think I'll give that one to you. I mean, you're right—I'm not really the secret agent type. But I'm the type who wants to do some good in the world for our people."

  "'Our people'?" Jack asked, raising a dark, thick eyebrow. "By that, do you mean all of the shifters, or foxes?"

  "Well…" I started. "Can't it be both?"

  "Possibly," Jack said, taking another sip of his drink. "But in my experience, when push comes to shove, we go with our own kind—species, then clan."

  "Oh," I said. "I never asked: What clan are you a part of? Anyone I'd know?"

  Jack's expression turned grim.

  "No," he said. "They…don't exist."

  I scrunched my nose. "What do you mean? Everyone has a clan."

  "I'm…without one. I'm the last of my people."

  "That means you're a..."

  The word hung on the end of my tongue. I almost didn't want to say it.

  "Ronin," he said, his voice grim.

  I couldn't help but gasp. Ronins were shifters who, for whatever reason, were without a clan. This could be because they were kicked out of their clan due to some kind of grievous action, usually a betrayal, or…the rest of their clan was killed. I felt anxious hearing this—ronin were rare, and not to be trusted. If someone had been cut out of their clan, it was assumed to have been done for a very good reason.

  "What…what did you do?" I asked, almost fearful of the answer.

  "It's not what I did," Jack said. "It's what was done to me."

  He looked away as he spoke, and it was clear that the subject was very sore.

  "And what was that?" I said, the words blurting out, despite myself.

  "Not good getting-to-know-you subject matter," he said, his tone icy.

  I got the hint.

  "We're not talking about me," Jack said. "I want to know about you. You want to change the world, huh? A real hold-hands-and-sing-Kumbaya type?"

  "Well, it seems silly when you say it like that," I said, feeling a little dumb.

  He took another sip of his drink. "I mean, your heart's in the right place, but if you're looking for a line of work to disabuse you of any notions of changing the world for the better, you've found it."

  "Why?"

  "Because when you work as a Sapien, you see the world of our people laid bare. You see betrayals, murders, kin-against-kin and species-against-species, all in the service of money, power, or getting to claim a few blocks of the city for their people. And anyone who wants to change it gets chewed up and spat out."

  "That's…not very encouraging."

  "It's not my job to make sure you're encouraged. It's my job to make sure you're a competent agent."

  "And…do you think I might be, someday?" I asked, knowing painfully just how insecure the question must've sounded.

  He snorted. "Maybe. That's still up in the air." He took another sip. "And that's it? You're in this game for entirely benevolent reasons?"

  "Well, there is a little more to it,” I said.

  "Shoot."

  "Ever since I was little, I've always been told that um, well, I'm brilliant. I know us foxes are known for our smarts, but my clan members said I was even brainer than that. I didn't know what the fuss was all about. All I knew was that I was able to learn more faster than any other kids my age. So, my clan elders had it in mind that I might be destined for great things. I guess working as a Sapien was what they imagined to be a stop along that path."

  "The clan elders, huh?" Jack asked.

  I blushed, knowing just what was going to come next.

  "And what clan might that be?"

  My hand shot out and I took a quick sip of my club soda, as though it actually contained alcohol that might make what I was about to say a little easier.

  "The Koenigs…." I mumbled.

  "Oh, ho-ho," Jack said, a pleased smirk forming on his lips, as though some suspicion he had was just confirmed. "You're a little rich girl. I figured there was something I didn't know about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on."

  My clan, the Koenigs, were something like royalty, if Fox society had such a thing. The richest and most elite clan in the foxes, we had something of a reputation among the rest of the species of the New York shifters. That is, being out of touch and full of ourselves.

  "Yeah, yeah, save your jokes."

  "It makes perfect sense—your, ah, ‘innocent' disposition, your eagerness to do good to offset your guilt for being so damn rich. I can't believe I didn't realize it earlier. Though, it doesn't explain what a complete klutz you are. Aren't you rich types supposed to be, you know, graceful and elegant?"

  "I'm a fox, not a damn swan or something," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and huffing.

  "So, you're the type who's used to getting everything handed to her, huh?" he said, still smirking.

  "No!" I said, the word shooting out of my mouth like a bullet. "That's another reason why I'mdoing this. My other clan memb
ers have all had everything handed to them, just like you think. And they don't want to do anything other than sit in their fancy apartments, drink expensive wine, and go on vacations. I didn't want that. I want to earn my own way."

  "And you think being a Sapien is how you're going to do that?"

  Jack finished his drink and ordered another. He seemed like the type who could really put them away, but if he was at all drunk, he didn't show it.

  "Well, I have my brains," I said. "And I know I had just about as much control in ending up with those as I did with being born rich, but at least they're mine. And the Sapiens just seemed like the best place to use them."

  "Maybe," Jack said. "But I think you'd be better off in an office analyzing DNA or something."

  "No way," I said, now flushing. "I've spent my whole life having others do things for me. I want to be responsible for myself for once, to put myself in danger and learn that I can handle it."

  Jack's eyebrows flicked up. I couldn't tell if he was impressed or being condescending again.

  "Well, let's see how that attitude holds up when you're staring into the snarling mouth of a wolf that's about to pounce."

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was right. The fighting that went among the foot soldiers of the clans was something that my clan had gone to great lengths to hide me from. The danger I was in earlier today was probably just a taste of what was out there.

  "Well, this has all been very enlightening, but we've got other matters to attend to."

  "Right," I said, ready to get back on task. "What's the next move?"

  "Hard to say," Jack said, shaking his head. "Like I said, I had been certain this was just a matter of an ambitious little asshole like Emmanuel Martin getting too big for his britches. But now that I know he's working with a dragon...who's to say?"

  "And trying to kill them, too?"

  "That's right," Jack said. "There's some serious shit going down, and we're just scratching the surface of it."

  "So, what do we do next?"