Dead Shifter Walking

Dead Shifter Walking

Kim Schubert

Dedication

To my husband, who is my rock and greatest supporter.
 

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Website:
www.kimschubert.com

Copyright © Kim Schubert 2014

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Chapter 1

Adjusting my uncomfortable seat on the makeshift
desk Grams was seated behind for this impromptu meeting, I peeked
over my tense shoulder to see her rigid gaze at the self-important
Governor Hash. The hatred simmering below the surface was evident
from her steel gaze, but she wasn’t allowing it to contort her
facial features, good for her.

I wasn’t doing nearly as well; my jaw muscles
twitched from unspoken words, not to mention my arms refused to
uncross from my chest.

Pulling my attention back to the panel in front
of us, I heaved an annoyed sigh. I wasn’t much for the legal system
or legal anything actually. I had my own set of rules, and I abided
by those with fanaticism. I was tempted to kill each and every one
of those stupid, idiotic vampires for coming out of the closet.
Let’s not forget about the lovely shifters who also decided it was
a good idea to dump the honesty on the general human public. Truth
of our existence had long been known since the Salem Witch Trials,
but I certainly didn’t walk around with a t-shirt announcing
“Succubus.” The general public appreciated it that way, knowing
there was something in the dark but not putting a face to it. Well,
that all ended, now that their ridiculous government thought they
had some say in how we lived. The idiotic notion that the humans
could control or dictate how we lived was the reason I was sitting
here guarding Grams, the head of our Supernatural Council, a
council I had crafted and tended to for the last six years, making
damn sure it was swift, just, and beyond reproach.

My system worked, wonderfully until the largest
vampire house in the area, The Centennial House, decided they
wanted a bigger piece of the ever-loving human pie. Fucking vampire
movies! I was tempted to kill every novelist and screenwriter who
glorified the undead. Contrary to popular belief, living forever is
grossly overrated. After a few centuries, all the humanity leaked
out; only the powerful elite survived with their sanity. If said
out-of-control vamps didn’t fall on a silver stake—yeah, that part
is true—then someone like me came along and relieved them of their
heads or hearts depending on the mood I was in. Contrary to vampire
lore, sunlight didn’t kill them, but their power, like most
supernaturals, was awakened at night.

As I rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck, I
glanced at the Vamp Council on my left, decked out in soft black
leather, chokers, and matching pale skin—the assholes. Across from
them to my right were the shifters in all their big, bad,
football-player glory, and directly in front of me were legalized
human assholes, trying desperately to understand supernatural
beings who had always walked beside them. The Governor and his
flunkies were attempting to pass judgment on who we were and what
we did, all the while, not really understanding a fucking
thing.

“We simply cannot allow your kind to continue
living the way you have, unchecked and unmanaged,” Governor Hash
stated, raising his beady eyes to the group assembled as he closed
his paperwork and was about to come to a verdict. “Therefore, we
are going to relocate―”

I stopped him there with a touch of my power.
“Absolutely not,” I said quietly, pushing off the table to stand in
front of him with my arms crossed over my leather-clad chest.

His eyes grew round. “You,” he started
uncertainly, “cannot tell me what to do―”

I laughed a small chuckle. “Actually, I can and
I will,” I said softly, feeling my power pool in my core.

I took a step forward, bracing my legs apart and
resting my hands on my hips. “This is what I will allow.”

He attempted to regain control from my brush off
of his authority, but one look quieted his annoying sputtering.

“I will allow you to have one of your staff,
approved by me, to monitor the clan meetings. Secondly, I will
allow”―I stressed that word; setting up the proper power levels was
important and stressing he had none was also key. Plus, I wasn’t
above killing them all; it was my job―“an enforcer to patrol your
police files and deliver the heads of anyone responsible for
breaking the major laws of your society that also correspond to our
own laws.

“I will allow you to provide me with multiple
candidates for an enforcer, with the final selection resting with
me.” I finished, slightly relaxing my stance, keeping my eye
contact level with his own. I knew the other clans would agree; the
Supernatural Council was the head of all the clans, and what I said
was law. Besides, there wasn’t anyone or anything else willing and
capable of eliminating an entire city council to get this shit
taken care of, but I was an executioner, that was my job, and I
loved it.

“And you speak for all these freaks?” he asked,
his voice shifting up an octave as his fear coating the room.

I smiled a slow relaxed smile that didn’t show
my pearly white teeth. My genetic makeup did not include
fear-inspiring canines and I was certain that has been a mistake.
“Anyone disagree?” I asked sweetly, not losing eye contact. Not a
sound prevailed.

“Who gave you the right to defy the authority
the citizens have entrusted me with?” he said, standing and raising
his voice. His tanned skin turning red from the exertion, he wasn’t
much to look at: tall, skinny, with gray hair and thin pale
lips.

I checked my control, it was good; fuck, it was
perfect. None of my emotions leaked.

I stalked slowly toward him, rolling my hips in
my soft leather pants and matching jacket. I had left my dual
swords at home, armed only with a few dozen knives hidden carefully
under my silk cami and jacket.

Reaching his ornate, highly polished table, I
braced my hands wide, lowering my face to his own. I smiled,
showing my still fangless teeth. “I gave the right to myself,” I
whispered. “And no political dick bag like you is going to undo any
of the structures I have created. End. Of. Story.”

I turned my back on him, walking towards Grams,
who raised a dark blond eyebrow. I tilted my head with a shrug; it
was fun scaring him. I liked it. Did that make me more of a
monster? Yes, I certainly hope so.

“None of you will leave this building alive,”
said the Governor desperately as the other clans stood, halting the
rustling of papers.

I turned around again tapping a delicate finger
against my blood red bottom lip. “You mean those big bad snipers on
the roof?” I asked innocently.

I think the Governor might have actually
growled.

“Don’t worry,” I said, settling my hand against
my side. “They'll be fine.” I checked my nearly indestructible
watch that was waterproof, freeze proof, and shockproof. I loved
it. “Well, actually, in about six minutes, they will be running out
of oxygen. So, I really do think we should get a move on.”

At those words, all the clans began picking up
their belongings. Ruling by fear was not nice; it was, however,
immensely effective. Fuck nice; my job came with a life expectancy
that didn’t clear thirty, and at twenty-three, I was already
feeling that pressure.

It also helped that they knew I was protecting
all of them as my own, and that I would make sure not a soul was
harmed leaving the building. I may be a tad overbearing in that
regard.

I waited as the rest of the clans exited the
wooden double doors with matching frosted glass panes. All the
while, Hash stared daggers at me. Feeling his malevolent eyes on my
back, I turned, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“I should have you arrested,” he growled,
scrunching his forehead.

I scoffed, “Good luck with that one,” I taunted
him, stepping onto the marble floor. I followed the echoing
footsteps around the corner and into the harsh florescent lighting
of the open lobby with matching marble paneling until I deviated
from the path of the others, cutting to the side door where I had
the snipers waiting for me.

I took my first clean breath of the night air,
chilly with the promise of rain. I sincerely hoped so; I loved the
rain.

“So, that was quite the performance,” Mark said,
coming from my left. I stopped surveying the rooftops and turned my
attention to him, not giving him the satisfaction of surprising
me.

“Performance?” I questioned. “I was really quite
okay with killing all of them.”

He shifted his stance, the wind lapping at his
thick dark curls, leather jacket, and jeans. He was as tan as a
surfer god, with broad shoulders and deep brown eyes.

“You weren’t really going to kill all those
people?” he asked, assured of the answer.

I smiled cryptically and shrugged, “Depends on
my mood.”

Mark scoffed at that. I could tell his shifter
blood was restless in the moonlight; his brown eyes gleaming with a
light that was not a reflection of the moon. He was second in
command of the Southeast Branch of Shifters. Darren was the head
dog down here, and I truly do mean dog in the most decadent sense
of the word. Actually, that was an insult to pooches everywhere.
Darren had the unique notoriety of having slept with the majority
of the female population in our fair city. He had a daughter from
his first marriage, but after his wife passed away, the manwhore
was released.

“How’s Hannah?” I asked about Darren’s daughter
and real number-one priority.

He hesitated in his answer, avoiding eye contact
and shrugging. “She’s okay,” he finally answered. I wanted to ask
why just okay when my watch beeped at me.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to make good on my
promise not to kill the snipers.” With that, I took my leave. I
might have rolled my hips exaggeratedly, but how long had it been
since I took a lover? I groaned inwardly; too damn long. And
shifters, their stamina was the stuff of legends. I did know,
however, that trying to seduce Mark would be totally ineffective;
he might not realize he was gay, but I certainly did. I liked
putting on a show though.

“Olivia, wait,” Grams said, speed walking to
come even with me. “Need a lift?” she asked with sincerity.

I smiled and nodded, not slowing my gait.

She nodded. “Around the corner at 6th
street.”

I nodded my thanks, continuing to keep my
promise to free the mere mortal assholes. I rolled my shoulders
again; I needed a back rub, with a tall, dark, and handsome
stamina-driven nonexistent male. I sighed with disappointment, as I
rolled open the sewer cage I had them in.

“Let’s go darlings,” I said as the moonlight
poured over their limp forms. Slowly they rose and ambled towards
their freedom.

…

“You think that was wise?” Grams asked in the
back of her black limo.

I shrugged. “You will have to be more specific,”
I stated blandly, rubbing my throbbing temples.

Grams held my emerald green eyes with her own
slate blue ones. “Do you think it wise to intimidate the human’s
ruling body of government, or perhaps we should discuss if you
think it wise to have assumed that you spoke for all of the
supernaturals in that room? Or more importantly the
kidnapping—“

“Enough,” I interrupted, speaking quietly.

She flushed, angry with my behavior. “What would
you have me do,” I asked, meeting her gaze, “let the human’s
pathetic government dictate our actions? I did what I had to,” I
said, turning back to the window. “I do my job to keep us safe. If
you want to blame someone, pick on the damn vampires.”

The conversation was closed. She knew it, even
if she didn’t like it. I didn’t put her in this position for her
inability to read people, and she should know me well enough by now
to realize exactly how I operated.

Six years ago, when I was seventeen, clawing my
way out of my own private hell, I found her managing a low-class,
dirty, rat- and drug-infested whorehouse. She had the traits I
needed, the ability to care for others without anger, an abundance
of kindness and compassion.

I converted a mansion I had not so honestly
inherited into a sanctuary for those like us and the children I had
managed to save.