Page 15

Marinah

I wasn’t surprised by the early knock at my door. Quickly, I dressed in military pants and a sky-blue T-shirt, bracing myself for whatever nonsense the day would bring. The short skirt and see-through blouse from yesterday were begging to be tossed in the trash, but doing so would raise questions I didn’t want to answer.

When I opened the door, Officer Daniels stood there, his displeasure clear in the tight line of his lips. Impatience radiated off him, and as I took in his snotty demeanor, I realized he was older than I’d initially thought. Beneath the pimply face, his attitude added years, making him look closer to thirty. He wasn’t my friend and never had been, never would be.

“The Shadow Warrior’s leader refuses to deal with anyone but you,” Daniels said flatly. “The president wants this resolved immediately.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to snap my heels together and give him a sarcastic salute. Instead, I scrunched my nose and worked to look appropriately scared and concerned.

“Oh dear, this isn’t good,” I said, wringing my hands for effect.

Okay, maybe I was laying it on a bit thick, because I didn’t think the old Marinah would go this far. Oh well.

“I know I’ve been living with them, but they still make me nervous. It’s their size.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and gave a little shiver before forcing a brave smile. “I’ll do what I can,” I added with another exaggerated shiver.

Who knew those college acting classes would come in handy after most of the world had been annihilated?

Labyrinth was playing his role to perfection as well. If I was taken out of the loop, his job was to insist on dealing with me directly, no exceptions. King had even brought one of his human men from Cuba to assist. The man’s sole job was to carry messages between King and Labyrinth. As a human, he could blend in and live on the outskirts of the city with the other humans who stayed close for protection.

President Barnes wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived at the Shadow Warrior quarters. Instead, I was greeted by General Smyth. He and my father had never been on good terms, and it had caused no small amount of trouble in my father’s career.

Smyth, now in his late sixties, was clean-shaven with piercing green eyes that saw far too much. His round face betrayed a life of indulgence, eating good food he clearly had no intention of sharing with his troops. Adding to his charm was a bulbous nose in desperate need of plucking.

His dislike for me was poorly concealed. His reaction to the braids was more visceral than the other men too. I didn’t bother hiding my own disdain.

Oh, goodie, this should be fun.

As if that wasn’t enough, I also took note of the twenty heavily armed soldiers stationed nearby to keep the Shadow Warriors safe.

What a joke.

If Smyth thought I’d fall for his nonsense, he was even more of an idiot than I’d imagined.

“Miss Church,” the general greeted me as I approached.

Not even the courtesy of a “Ms.” title. Classy.

“General, so good to see you again,” I lied, with a small bite to the words.

The last time I’d seen him was at my father’s funeral, where he’d barely managed to hide his glee.

I just might hate the man.

Kill.

Oh, how I wish we could.

The general wasted no time on pleasantries.

“The Shadow Warrior in charge is being difficult and refuses to deal with my authority. Straighten this out so I can do my job without interference,” he said, all but spitting the words.

It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about me being here, about needing me to handle this delicate situation. That thought alone nearly made me grin, but I bit my tongue, literally until I tasted blood, just to keep my expression neutral.

“I’ll do what I can, General,” I said, keeping my tone as light as possible. “But the Warriors don’t trust those they dealt with after the war. Maybe you’re the problem.”

There. Take that, you slimy strand of unplucked nose hair.

His expression said it all, and I was honestly surprised when the lightning bolt he seemed to be hoping for didn’t strike me dead on the spot.

He didn’t bother answering me, either. Instead, he opened the door in front of us and led me into the Shadow Warrior quarters.

The room was lined with military-style bunk beds, their frames bolted to the walls with an aisle running down the center. At the back of the room, I could make out what looked like bathrooms, and through an open door on the right, I saw an area with tables and chairs.

For a prison, it could’ve been worse.

Labyrinth approached, his movements slow, and for the first time since King and I had mated, he looked me directly in the eye.

I forced Ms. Beast to settle and held his gaze, refusing to allow her to rule this.

“Defense Secretary Church,” he said, “thank you for coming. There seems to be a problem with who’s in charge. We were under the impression it would be you. Has that changed?”

I needed the president here for this, but he’d left me to fend for myself.

Pulling from my well of college acting lessons, I shifted from one foot to the other, doing my best to appear weak and indecisive.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” I said, wringing my hands for good measure. “It seems my title was honorary, given only to provide additional clout in dealing with your kind.”

I cringed internally at the words. Labyrinth knew I had to play the part, but it was still painful.

“The president informed me I’m just plain Ms. Church now,” I added with a sigh.

I cast a glance at the general, then turned back to Labyrinth and gave him a quick wink.

“You should be able to trust General Smyth,” I said, pasting on a smile large enough to be convincing. “He’s here to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Every word was a lie, and Labyrinth knew it. The jab at the general wasn’t subtle either. The should left doubt. The general’s idea for the Shadow Warriors would involve a mass grave. Digging under his skin gave me a grim sense of satisfaction, and I had to fight hard to keep pure hatred from my voice.

“Men,” Labyrinth commanded to the room at large.

The hundred Shadow Warriors scattered throughout the room immediately snapped to disciplined attention.

Labyrinth turned to the general, his expression hot. “My orders from my leader are to deal only with Secretary of Defense Church. Without her at the helm, we are to return immediately to our island.”

The general stepped forward, his mouth twisting into a sneer. “That would be a mistake,” he threatened with pure disdain.

Labyrinth closed the gap between them. They were almost nose to nose, or at least they would’ve been if the general were a foot taller.

“The mistake,” Labyrinth growled, his voice dangerously low, “is dealing with those who betrayed us in the past. Defense Secretary Church convinced King that it was to our benefit to help humans, even after your betrayal. I didn’t agree, but here I am. Do you plan on stopping us from leaving?”

“That will be completely unnecessary,” President Barnes interjected from behind us.

I hadn’t even noticed him arrive. He’d clearly been there long enough.

“We have no problem with Defense Secretary Church being your liaison. It’s why we sent her to negotiate with your leader in the first place. We have the utmost respect for her, as should you.”

Labyrinth nodded regally, and I nearly burst out laughing.

Now who was laying it on thick?

“General, may I have a word with you?” the president requested firmly.

The two men exited the room, leaving several guards behind to ensure I didn’t have a private word with Labyrinth. I clenched my teeth, frustration simmering just below the surface.

When President Barnes returned, the general was nowhere in sight.

“Defense Secretary Church will be at your disposal for any needs you have,” the president announced. “The door guards will notify her at your request. She will also attend all meetings with me and keep you up to date on the proximity of hellhounds. Do you have any immediate needs you’d like me to consider?”

It was clear Labyrinth wouldn’t be invited to those meetings, but he showed no sign of displeasure.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” he replied smoothly. “We would like to assess your perimeter and have someone show us where you had the latest hellhound sightings. Any concerns or defense plans we devise will be communicated directly to Defense Secretary Church.”

“Of course.”

The president turned to one of the guards. “Escort the Shadow Warriors to the perimeter where you saw the hellhounds.”

He glanced back at Labyrinth. “I have a busy day scheduled. Tomorrow will be soon enough to examine the defenses we have in place.”

He shook Labyrinth’s hand without a hint of distaste, and I had to remind myself that this was the same man who called them savages just yesterday.

He was truly evil, his hypocrisy masked by a polished exterior.

Then he turned to me, offering a warm smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he shook my hand before leaving the room.

Officer Daniels stepped forward and waved me toward the door. Clearly, I wasn’t welcome to linger in the Warriors’ quarters.

My escort led me to the cafeteria I’d used back when I worked in analytics. The space hadn’t changed, but it felt lonelier. My co-workers weren’t here. A quick glance at the large windup clock on the wall told me why.

They’d finished breakfast an hour ago and were already hard at work.

My food surprised me.

It wasn’t the gruel I expected. It consisted of oatmeal that tasted like it had passed its expiration date years ago and, wonder of wonders, a piece of dry toast.

Maybe someone with a sliver of influence complained, and everyone was getting an improvement.

The thought of the president and his generals eating fresh, healthy meals while leaving their lowly workers and soldiers to suffer with garbage made my blood boil. The sheer disgust of it churned in my stomach as I forced myself to swallow the barely edible breakfast, even though I was starving.

I ate in silence, avoiding eye contact or conversation with Officer Daniels.

When I worked in analytics, I kept to myself after my father died, which allotted me a weird, standoffish persona. I used it now.

With another bite of stale, bland oatmeal, I let my mind wander to what the president had possibly said to General Smyth.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Now that I was the official liaison between humans and Shadow Warriors, my thoughts inevitably drifted to King.

I missed him.

Ms. Beast grumbled.

She missed him too, and it was a physical ache in my chest.