The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles)

THE MERCENARY AND THE SHIFTERS

The Turning Stone Chronicles

C.D. HERSH

SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

New York

THE MERCENARY AND THE SHIFTERS

Copyright©2016

C.D. HERSH

Cover Design by Fiona Jayde

This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502

ISBN: 978-1-68291-164-8

www.SoulMatePublishing.com

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

To some of our biggest fans,

our sisters: Carolyn, Jean, and Pauletta.

Thanks for your support.

We love you.

Acknowledgements

We would like to thank Anne S. McFarland for her help in researching information about the eastern side of Cleveland. She pointed us to the location for the setting of the homes of our wealthy characters.

Chapter 1

Fiona Kayler’s hands shook as she opened the book she’d found hidden under the floorboard in her mother’s old bedroom. Twelve months had passed since her newfound brother, Rhys Temple, who promised to help her, had fled the country without so much as a good-bye, leaving her alone to deal with shape shifters and the threat of a hostile takeover of her shipping company. Without her parents, or Rhys, she was alone in the world now. Alone sucked.

She turned the pages covered in her mother’s left-slanted writing. Writing that revealed all the things she had wondered about her brothers. Writing that explained the sadness she’d always seen in her mother’s face. Writing that would open up the secret world of shape shifters to her.

She twirled the gold ring with the red-streaked, dark-green stone on her left ring finger. Now that she finally had the incantation which would open the shifter world to her, she wasn’t certain she could actually read the words. But she had to.

Joining the shifter world would give her access to the same skills as the people trying to steal her company. It also would connect her to the only family she had left, her brother Rhys, if she could figure out where he’d disappeared to. When she found him she’d give him a piece of her mind for deserting her.

Rhys was the only shifter she’d ever known, except for the man from OmniWorld, and she didn’t really know him. Before he left, her brother had warned her to stay away from OmniWorld, because the man had a very dark aura, which meant he was a rogue shifter.

But Rhys wasn’t here.

And OmniWorld had money she needed to keep the business solvent. They also had her by the throat.

The one thing Dad had taught her was if you can’t beat them, join them. Exactly what she had to do. Join the rogue shifter world and take down the SOB trying to steal her company.

But she’d wanted to enter the shifter world on her own terms. In her own time. With her brother Rhys to guide her. Not like this. Not at the insistence and blackmail of the rogues who ran OmniWorld. Not without her brother to help her navigate the perils.

She read the words in her mother’s diary again.

I’m sorry I kept your magical, shifter heritage from you, but I had to in order to keep us safe. If you’re thinking about reading the inscription I placed in this diary, be very certain this is what you want. Be certain you’re willing to take the risk, because once you’ve entered the life of a shape shifter, there’s no turning back. You will always be a shifter. You can’t decide to quit wearing the ring one day and run away, because you can’t hide from the Society.

Her cell rang and she thumbed it on.

“Ms. Kayler, this is Jim,” said a panicked voice. “You need to come to the docks.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The
KayFion
just sank in Lake Ontario.”

“Oh, God, no! Did the crew survive?”

“They made it off, but several were injured.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Fiona stared at the Turning Stone ring on her finger. She had no choice now. The loss of a ship on top of the huge lawyer fees she had to cough up, when Rhys and Hugh Allen uncovered the smuggling ring that had been using her ships, would put her out of business. She’d cut all her personal expenses and sold off almost every asset she owned outright to keep afloat. OmniWorld’s threat—
become a shifter now and do our bidding or lose your shipping company
—was the only way left to save the last links to her parents.

She remembered Alexi Temple’s warning: rogue shifters wouldn’t hesitate to kill her to get another magic ring. Why they hadn’t offed her already was a mystery to her. They could have easily murdered her, taken the ring, and bought her shares after she died.

They wanted something from her. Something important enough to keep her alive and tie her to them. If she didn’t do as they asked, would they kill her? They hadn’t threatened death, but if Alexi and Rhys could be believed, it was certainly possible.

Fiona stared across the room at her parents’ portrait. Dad always said you fought fire with fire. You beat your enemy by knowing what he knew and then some. You did whatever it took to win.

“I won’t go meekly,” she promised them. “I will destroy everyone who stands in my way. I will pay them back for the life they made you live, Mother. I don’t know how, but I swear I will.”

Opening the book again, she found the Gaelic incantation in her mother’s journal. To fight shifters, and keep control of the company, she had to become a shifter. Fear or no fear.

She traced her finger down the page to an entry below the incantation.

It hurts
, her mother had written.
Hurts as if you’re having a heart attack. But you’re not. It’s the magic loosing itself into your body. When the pain stops, the transformation will be complete. Then the hard work of learning how to use the ring begins.

You must find a mentor as soon as possible. Great power corrupts greatly, and once you experience the abilities shifting gives you, you must learn to control the ring. If you don’t, remaining on the side of good is difficult.

Drawing a shaky breath, Fiona read the incantation aloud.
“Fear bean beathach tri an aon.”

Warmth spread across her left ring finger where the magic ring rested, and a tingle ran up her arm. Fiona glanced at the Turning Stone ring. The red lines in the dark-green bloodstone cabochon writhed and swirled, forming a circle, and another, and another. The circles spun, finally interlocking in a circular Celtic knot. The stone glowed softly as the three red circles pulsed.

Suddenly, the tingling in her arm intensified then shot to her torso. Fiona grabbed her chest as a bolt of pain knifed her heart.

“It’s just the magic,” she groaned to reassure herself. “I am not having a heart attack.”

Even though her mother’s journal entry had prepared her, terror gripped Fiona as wave after wave of stabbing pain shot through her. She tried to breathe the ache away, but her breath came fast and panicked. Another jolt pierced her like a shock of electricity, doubling her over so fast she pitched from the chair.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain left.

Fiona stared at the ring as the three circles slithered into nondescript lines running through the bloodstone. Except for the fact she now lay on the floor, everything remained as it had been.

For a moment, she sat motionless on the thick carpet, tuning her senses inward. Looking for some sign she had changed. But she found nothing to indicate she was now different.

But she was. Her mother’s journal said so.

Fiona thumbed through the pages to the first set of instructions. Level one shifting involved mimicking another person. Thinking about them and how they looked.

The transformation is easy
, her mother wrote.
But beware. When you take someone else’s shape you should not do anything evil. If you do, you might never get your real persona back. Evil deeds can only be done as yourself, your alter ego, and your animal ego.

Fiona closed the book and locked it in the middle drawer of her father’s desk. She would need her alter ego when the time came to get rid of the competition. She had done what OmniWorld wanted. Now they had to keep their part of the bargain.

For the tenth time, Fiona straightened the papers on her desk. Her contact from OmniWorld was late, and she was as nervous as a mouse in a room full of hungry cats.

Her mother’s journal warned her shifters could sense each other. Would he realize she’d changed?

The buzzer on the office intercom announced her appointment, and she rose to greet her OmniWorld contact.

The second the door opened her body filled with tingles. Shifter tingles, her mother had called them, and now Fiona knew why. Every cell, from her head to her toes, buzzed.

Mr. Swindell stopped, the door halfway open, and scanned the room. “Are we alone, Ms. Kayler?” he asked, frowning.

“Quite.” She made a sweep with her left arm, indicating a chair pulled up to her desk. Apparently, he sensed her presence. “Come in, Mr. Swindell. I wasn’t certain your company would send you this time.”

“I insisted on coming. I always like to finish what I start.” As he took his seat, his eyes scanned the room, searching. Fiona sat, clasping her hands together on top of her desk, positioning her left hand so the Turning Stone ring faced her guest.

“I see you took our advice, Ms. Kayler. I hope this means you’re ready to get down to business.” He drew several papers from his briefcase. “I’ve some documents we need to go over.”

“I’ve changed,” she said pointedly. “I’m certain you can feel it as easily as I can feel you. But we have other business to settle first.”

A winged eyebrow rose high on the man’s forehead, and his gaze swept over her, coming to rest on her clasped hands. “Really, my dear? I can see becoming a shifter has not only changed you, but your attitude as well.”

If he only knew how badly her insides shook he would not say that.

Leaning back in his chair, he steepled his fingertips together. His all-consuming stare disconcerted her. She struggled to keep calm under his scrutiny.

“So, tell me, my dear, what is this business?”

“I want a mentor. I’ve succumbed to your threat—become a shifter and do your bidding or lose my company—but I won’t be turned into one of your low-life mimics. I want real training.”

At the mention of mimics, Swindell’s eyes opened wide. “Who told you about mimics?”

“My mother.”

“What’s your mother’s name?”

“Kayla.”

“Her maiden name?” he asked.

She hesitated. Should she give away her mother’s secret? Would revealing her relationship with a fugitive shifter be beneficial or harmful?

When she didn’t answer, Mr. Swindell said, “Come now, my dear. If we—or someone I find for you—are to begin a mentor-mentee relationship we must start with basic honesty and faith.” When she remained silent he continued, “Or we shall not start at all.”

Forgive me, Mother, and if you can, protect me.
“McCraigen,” Fiona said with as much confidence as she could muster. “Kayla McCraigen.”

Fiona swore she heard Mr. Swindell gasp, but when she looked at him he appeared unruffled.

“My dear Ms. Kayler, I do believe I can convince my employer to agree to your terms. I just need to make a telephone call.”

“Thank you, Mr. Swindell.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cell phone. With a quick jab, he dialed a number.

“Ms. Kayler is willing to work with us for a price,” he said into the phone.

A short pause ensued. Fiona struggled to hear the other person’s reply, but whoever Swindell called spoke so softly it was as if Swindell talked to himself. She gave up her unsuccessful eavesdropping attempt and prayed for a positive answer.

Then he spoke. “I see. Very well. I’ll let her know.” He thumbed off the phone and gave his attention to her. “We can work a deal, but you have to do something now to prove your loyalty to us.”

Fiona didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”

“We have a shipment leaving Valleyfield, and we need a ship whose owners will look the other way.”

“Oh, no. I just got cleared of charges from the last illegal cargo someone smuggled on my ship. I’m not going there again.”

Swindell gathered his briefcase and stood. “Then, my dear, I’m afraid we do not have a deal. OmniWorld will begin the purchase of all company shares not owned by you. We can make it very uncomfortable for you and your company, in more than one way.” He swiveled on his heel toward the door.

More than one way? Had OmniWorld sunk her ship? Fire burned in her gut. No way would she let him walk away from her. “Wait!” she cried. “What’s the shipment? Is it hazardous?”

“Only to those unfortunate souls addicted to nicotine.”

“Nicotine?”

“The cargo is cigarettes. Nothing hazardous. Nothing you need to worry yourself about.”

“You need me to ignore a shipment of cigarettes?” If they wanted her to do that, it was certainly illegal, but seemed harmless enough. She paused, running possible scenarios through her head. No sarin gas, that meant no terrorist attack possibilities. Homeland Security wouldn’t come knocking at her door. Nothing hazardous, so the shipment wouldn’t pollute the lake like an oil spill. Just cigarettes. She wouldn’t piss off the EPA.

“Okay, I’ll do it. But your boss has to guarantee he will not use my ships again.”

Swindell’s lips tipped upward in a slow smile. “I’m certain we can come to terms. We’ll meet later to discuss more details.”

“Yes, we will, and sooner rather than later,” she replied in a tone she hoped showed she meant business.

After studying her for a couple of seconds, he rose and extended his hand. Scooting her chair back, she leaned over the desk and shook his hand. Tingles ran over her palm and up her arm, buzzing across her skin like hundreds of bees. She tried to loosen his grip, but he held on way past her comfort zone. With a tug, she jerked free.

Swindell’s gaze swept over her, lingering on her face. She suppressed a shudder at his perusal. Then he shoved his papers into his briefcase and exited.

Fiona dropped onto her chair, exhausted from enduring the tension of the meeting and the constant buzz running through her body while in Swindell’s presence.

“It’s done,” she whispered into the emptiness of the room. “I’ve made a deal with the devil. May heaven help me.”