Page 5

Marinah

I stared at the apparition in the mirror.

It wasn’t a monster, not really. It was just me in Warrior form.

My eyes were the same, familiar and human, but everything else was unrecognizable. My snout was the most unattractive thing I’d ever seen. I forced a smile, and the sight of my teeth gleaming with saliva almost made me recoil.

Lifting my arms, I ran my fingers over my chest. My breasts weren’t hanging anymore; they were part of the chest bone, hard, almost like they were metal-plated. The short hairs covering my face and chest weren’t flattering either, though I supposed they could be more revolting.

I took a few steps back to see the full picture.

I was Marinah the Warrior, and for the first time in my life, this body felt… perfect.

“Okay, Ms. Beast,” I said respectfully, addressing the reflection. “It’s time for you to go back inside and stay there until you’re needed again.”

Nothing.

The stubborn beast continued to stare back, unblinking and unmoved.

“This is serious business,” I said, trying to reason with her. “I like you, but I don’t have proper clothes for you. I’ll get that taken care of, and then you can come out and play again. Deal?”

Still nothing.

I brought my hand up, carefully scratching my cheek. A fine line of blood appeared where my claw had grazed.

“Dammit,” I muttered. “No need to be difficult. I want the old Marinah back. She has things to do.”

The beast wasn’t cooperating.

A growl of frustration rumbled low in my throat as I debated asking King for help. But I hated the idea. It would be nice to manage something on my own.

Closing my eyes, I focused on King. Not his beast, but his human side.

My mind filled with the image of his broad chest and powerful arms, the ones that always caught my attention and made my mouth water. I pictured the valleys and plains of his stomach, the teasing lines that disappeared below the waist of his pants.

Heat flared through me, and the first sharp ache of shifting stabbed my gut.

I sucked in a lungful of air, my hands trembling in front of my face.

When I opened my eyes, I watched in awe as my body began to mutate. The claws retracted, reforming into fingers, and my jaws reshaped, shrinking back to their human form.

The pain which King said would lessen the more I shifted, receded, replaced by a strange sense of wonder. Watching the shift happen felt surreal, incredible even.

When the change was complete, I examined myself in the mirror again.

My hair was a tangled mess from the run, and I made a mental note to do something about it. Maybe braids, like King’s.

There was no way he did those himself. Someone must help him, probably a woman from the village.

A strange feeling tightened painfully in my chest.

For a moment, I panicked, thinking the shift was starting again. My body tensed, waiting for the telltale signs, but after a few long moments, nothing happened.

Relief washed over me, though an idea lingered.

I should keep track of triggers that caused strong reactions.

Like thinking about women touching King.

The grumble shifted to my lower belly this time, and I smiled faintly. Ms. Beast clearly didn’t like the idea of anyone touching King. Especially women.

After a lukewarm that soothed my frazzled nerves, I stepped into the hallway wearing a T-shirt and jean shorts. The shorts might not survive a shift, but I would deal with that if it happened.

Barefoot, I followed the mouthwatering smell of food through King’s home.

The kitchen opened into a large multi-purpose room with an island and barstool seating between the two spaces. King stood at the oven, pulling out two massive steaks, their aroma filling the room.

“You cook?” I asked, trying to cover the nervousness curling in my stomach.

It wasn’t like we hadn’t been alone before, but this felt different, more intimate. There were no guards outside the door, no one stationed a room or two away.

It was just the two of us.

His eyes flashed a lighter shade of blue, and a slow grin spread across his face, lighting up his features.

“Yes. I don’t like having the island women underfoot, and I grew up on a farm where cooking wasn’t optional. When I was younger, my mom did most of it. After she left, it was just me and Dad, so I learned.”

He placed the enormous steaks onto plates and slid one across the counter toward me. A fork and knife followed.

I cut into the steak, the rare meat glistening, and almost drooled before getting the first bite into my mouth.

“Good,” I said after chewing, though it was a complete lie. This wasn’t just good. It was the best thing I’d ever eaten.

“Your beast needs protein,” King said.

I kept my focus on the food, ignoring the small thrill that coursed through me as I watched a freshly washed King move around his kitchen. He placed his plate in the microwave without turning it on, closed the door, and started cleaning up the mess he’d made while cooking.

There was no way I would pause eating to wait for him, but I wasn’t about to complain about the view either. Barefoot like me, he wore his BDU military pants and a red cotton shirt that fit him like a second skin.

Delicious.

And I was no longer thinking about the food.

Maybe that’s why I finished my entire steak before King had even taken one bite of his.

“Did you suspect what I was before I shifted, or mutated, or became a monster, or whatever you want to call it?” I asked.

He looked at me, another grin tugging at his lips. “Shifting works. And no, I never suspected anything. Human scent is the same even when Warriors are in that shape. There was no way to know, but after it happened, a few things clicked into place.”

“Like what?”

He finished wiping down the counter, then grabbed his plate. I fought the urge to stare at his steak.

“The food thing,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “Your sudden desire for meat. After a lifetime as a vegetarian, it wasn’t exactly normal. What you are also explains a little more about your father and why he accepted us so readily.”

“You think he knew?” I’d had the same thought, but I wondered how King arrived at his conclusion.

“Your father was a warrior. Not one of us, but he had an understanding of war and strategy that was almost unmatched, second only to Uncle Greystone. I think your mother taught your father, just as her mother likely taught her. It’s the only explanation that fits.”

“If that’s true, then why didn’t they teach me?”

“How old were you when your mother died?” King asked gently, though I could hear his curiosity.

“Nineteen.”

“And you showed no signs of shifting before that?”

I shook my head, trying to summon a memory that might suggest otherwise. “Not before or after. Not until the night the hellhound bit me.”

He shrugged, thoughtful. “It’s possible they didn’t think you would shift into a Shadow Warrior. Only a limited number of female Shadow Warriors carry the gene that produces K-5. Your mother and grandmother may never have made the transition. In males, it’s the opposite. There are only a few who don’t shift.”

“I still think my father should have told me where I came from,” I said, my frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

King picked up his half-eaten steak and pushed the plate across the counter toward me.

“Eat.”

“This one’s yours,” I argued, eyeing the steak before glancing back at him, indecision warring within me.

“I’m full,” he replied. “I don’t need the calories a new Warrior does. Eat.”

My hand instinctively went to my chest as a tiny rumble vibrated there. I gave King a sheepish smile.

“I don’t think my monster likes it when you boss me around.”

∞∞∞

King

I was certain her beast didn’t appreciate my bossiness. Marinah was alpha, and she proved it by putting Beck in his place earlier this morning. It was a good sign. It meant our children would be strong, carrying the Warrior gene from both parents. A new Shadow Warrior race was on the horizon, and it would be an incredible thing to witness.

I didn’t respond to Marinah’s playful jab. Instead, I watched as she blinked a few times, considering, and then finally decided to eat the steak.

While she focused on the food, I took her first plate to the sink and washed it. When she finished the second plate, I grabbed that too.

“You don’t need to clean up after me,” she said. “I’ll wash dishes when you cook.”

“We can share the work,” I replied, rinsing the plate. “I have about five meals I can manage without burning the house down. If you have anything to add to the mix, you’re welcome to make it. The freezer in the underground bunker has enough steak to last us a few months, but it would be nice to have something to go with it.”

“I could live off steak for the rest of my life,” she said with conviction.

“That’ll change,” I replied with a knowing smile. “Your body’s burning through calories like wildfire right now. Carbs are important too, but I remember how steak tasted after my first shift. My father actually lured me out of my room with the smell of it.”

“I have so much to learn,” she murmured, a wistful note in her voice.

I walked around the counter and took her hand, relishing the low, contented purr from Beast at the contact.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you where to start.”

Marinah hopped off the stool and followed me.

I led her down the long hallway to the center of the house and stopped at a door at the end, turning the heavy deadbolt before pushing it open. Flipping on the light, a set of stairs was revealed, leading downward. At the bottom, the space opened into a large underground room. A tunnel at the back stretched away from the ocean.

“This is reinforced with steel?” Marinah asked, her eyes scanning the bunker.

“Iron ore,” I replied, glancing at the sturdy walls surrounding us. “It’s one of Cuba’s natural resources. We’ve welded countless train cars together and built an underground city if it’s ever needed. This is where we store our food, weapons, and other essentials. It’s also where I keep what I need to show you.”

We stepped into the tunnel and walked straight for about a hundred yards. The cool air carried a slight metallic scent, amplified by the silence.

“It feels like a tomb down here,” Marinah whispered as we took a right turn into another long corridor.

“We’ve segmented the tunnels into rooms, and each house has an access point to the network. We’re not going all the way today. I just wanted to show you this.”

I stopped at a door on our left, unlocked it, and flipped on the light before stepping inside.

Marinah’s gasp echoed in the enclosed space. “It’s a library.”

I followed her gaze to the rows of shelves, each packed with books. These volumes had been in my possession since Greystone passed.

“It’s our history,” I said simply, though I didn’t mention that someday, these books could be passed to one of our children. The thought of a curly-haired little girl with Marinah’s eyes made my chest tighten with warmth.

“The history of Shadow Warriors?” she asked, pulling me back from my thoughts.

“Yes.”

She carefully removed a book from one of the shelves and studied it. “What language is this?”

“It’s the original Shadow Warrior language,” I explained. “Most of the books have been translated. The English versions are on the far side.”

She walked to the English section, her eyes scanning the rows of titles. “So many,” she whispered in awe. “Do you speak the original language?”

“My father insisted I learn. I hated him for it at the time, but Greystone made me understand why it was important. We can never forget where we came from. Not if we want to stop history from repeating itself.”

I watched as Marinah picked up another book, her fingers trailing over its cover.

“Before we came to this planet, there were female Warriors,” I said. “Their teachings are in these texts too, though I’ve only read a little of one of them.”

“Why didn’t you read them?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Because it hurt too much. Instead, I said, “We had no female Warriors, and I didn’t see the need.”

Her gaze swept the room, taking in the shelves packed with knowledge.

“It’s all here? Everything I need to know?”

“Most likely,” I replied. “Take a few volumes that look interesting back to your room. When we aren’t training or feeding you, you’ll have plenty of time to read.”

The wonder in her expression dimmed, replaced by a shadow of sadness.

“Time is something we don’t have if we’re going to help the Federation.”

“The best way to help them is by understanding who and what you are,” I told her firmly. “You are part of both worlds, and you are important to both sides. These volumes,” I gestured to the shelves, “hold most of our secrets. They are yours to uncover.”

Her brow furrowed as another worry crossed her mind. “If things in the U.S. get worse, will you know?”

“Yes,” I assured her. “And you’ll know too. I won’t keep anything from you.”

Skepticism flickered across her face, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ll answer all my questions?”

“Yes,” I promised, locking eyes with her. “Even if you won’t answer all of mine.”