Noah

He came to a stop, the giant paw of his right foreleg straddling the imaginary line that marked the boundary he had been seeking. His head twisted left and right, but there were no markers, no fence, nothing to physically represent the border itself. Even if there had been, he wouldn’t have been able to see it in the foot of snow that covered the landscape beneath. But he could sense it, his animal perceptions vastly greater than his human form could interpret.

On either side of him two other gargantuan, oversized mountain bears came to a halt as well. They sensed it, but as the senior of the three they looked to him for confirmation. Instead of making a noise, he simply stood up. By the time he was upright, his body had shrunk down to the size of a human, albeit one of above-average height and covered in thick chunks of muscle that looked like they might have been grown in a lab they were so perfectly sculpted.

“We’re here,” he said, his voice sounding like the beginnings of an avalanche as it picked up speed down the hill, restrained yet full of power and fury ready to be unleashed at a moment’s notice.

The others also shifted, shortly resembling two more tall, muscular males. The trio were clad in the same uniform: a tight-fitting white T-shirt, black tactical pants, and dark brown utility boots. None of them shivered. The cold didn’t bother them.

A gust of wind rushed through the little copse of trees within which they stood, dislodging a pile of snow from the branches of one smaller evergreen, sending it tumbling to the ground in a cloud of white. A bird chirped loudly, its morning slumber rudely interrupted by the sudden movement.

“Shall we?” he asked rhetorically, and took one long stride forward, trampling snow as he went.

The other two fell in behind him, stepping where he stepped. It wasn’t a necessary tactic—they were in friendly territory after all—but old habits died hard. By walking the way he had, they were disguising their numbers, making it hard for anyone to track who had come by. It was something ingrained into them from their training back home, and by now it was just instinct, a habit that they saw no reason to change.

Eventually they emerged from the tree line, only to be greeted by the skyline, such as it was, of their destination. The small town didn’t boast any skyscrapers or even any buildings higher than four or maybe five stories, but it still dominated their view. The boundary they had crossed earlier was the town limits, the outer edges of its jurisdiction. That was where they had to resume their human form. From now on, unless given express permission from human authorities, or attacked by another shifter’s animal, they were to remain in their human form.

There was no crowd awaiting their arrival. Not even a dignitary or guide. The occupants of the town itself were unlikely to even be aware that they were coming, while the other shifters in town simply expected them to know where they were going.

“The embassy is on the northeast side of town,” he said, lifting an arm and pointing unnecessarily. Each of the three shifters had memorized a layout of the city, including major focal points before their departure as part of the training for their new job.

Without waiting for further comment, he strode forward once more. The going was easier now, and they could travel three abreast without worrying about leaving a trail. The road they walked on was plowed, making it impossible to track them.

As they walked he watched the buildings grow closer, until within minutes they were no longer walking toward them, but instead were between them. Commercial buildings seemed to dominate this particular area of town he noted. They were mostly low-slung facilities with various neon signs. If he recalled correctly the humans called them “strip-malls,” though he couldn’t understand why, since they were neither required, nor often had strip clubs among them. Which was a shame, truthfully.

They took a right-hand turn and made their way up a wider street. This one was filled with what appeared to be shops at the street level, and offices or apartments above them. It wasn’t part of the “downtown” area, but it was obviously a major thoroughfare as far as the town of Cloud Lake was concerned.

Here and there people moved, either on foot or by vehicle, but it was still early enough in the morning that the majority would be asleep or just preparing to leave. The trio had planned it that way. They didn’t want to arrive at a time where their movements would still be considered part of the “night” crowd, but they also weren’t interested in drawing a crowd. It would appear they had chosen well.

“Nice place,” the shifter on his left remarked casually. “I can see why people want to come here.”

He glanced over at Chase, but the shifter’s eyes were focused outward, on the town itself. “Indeed,” he replied at last. “And it’s our job to ensure it stays that way.”

The other two growled in agreement. That wasn’t strictly what they had been sent to Cloud Lake to do, but it was close enough. Eventually they reached their destination, a big wooden building that had the look of a motel to it. The sign above the doorway, black lettering emblazoned upon silver metal read simply Cadian Embassy. If it maybe didn’t play up the part of looking like an official embassy, the building could be forgiven because once upon a time it had been a motel.

“You’ve now arrived at your destination,” Braden said in a monotone.

Noah snorted as the shifter on his right spoke up. “He rides in a car with the navigation system one time, and now he can’t stop pretending like he’s one.”

Chase chuckled and nodded his head in agreement, while Braden just made a face at the both of them. “You both need to lighten up,” he complained. “We’ve just scored the gig of a lifetime, and you’re all in the doldrums about it over there.”

“Doldrums?” Chase asked, looking at Noah.

Noah looked at Chase. “Don’t look at me,” he said, “I didn’t know he knew it. Has someone left the dictionary out again?”

Braden whipped a hastily made snowball at Noah, but he leaned back out of the way, allowing it to take Chase full in the face. The big shifter sputtered and spat out chunks of snow as he shook his head, trying to clear it of the leftovers.

“Okay boys, game faces,” Noah said a few seconds later, before things could get out of hand.

The three of them exchanged nods, and, at a stiff nod from Noah, proceeded up the stairs and inside the embassy.

There was a guard at the desk who looked up sharply at their arrival and then stood up, stepping slightly out from the desk, his hands at his sides, feet spread wide. At a quick glance there was nothing ominous or threatening about what he’d just done, besides step into their paths, but as shifters, they saw things slightly differently. Like the way the guard was perched on the balls of his feet, ready to react, or the way his eyes flickered with the barely restrained power that came when a shifter had their animal ready at the surface, able to shift in a heartbeat.

Noah slowed and spread his hands wide. “Noah Landeau, Chase Hutchison and Braden Fields,” he said, introducing the three of them. “Here to report to Gray.”

The guard didn’t relax. Not that Noah blamed him; it was unlikely that he had been expecting three random shifters to suddenly appear in the embassy. Noah had been assured that their arrival would be communicated to the embassy, but it was beginning to look as if not everyone had been notified.

“Paperwork?” the guard asked.

Noah slowly stuck one hand into the lower pocket of his pants and pulled out the paperwork. He passed it to the shifter who took it warily, then stepped back three paces before opening it up, giving him more time to react in case it was a ruse. But there was no need for that, as another figure, one Noah recognized, stepped out into the lobby.

He came to attention abruptly, followed a split second later by Chase and Braden as their boss—and also the reason for their deployment to Cloud Lake—came forward. There was a slight flicker of a frown on his face before he motioned for the trio to stand at ease.

“It’s okay, Hector,” he said, walking up to the guard shifter and patting him on the shoulder. “They’re supposed to be here.” Then he turned to Noah.

“So, how was the trip in?”

“Fine, sir,” he replied promptly. “No difficulties encountered.”

“Call me Andrew,” the other shifter said with a small sigh of irritation.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Andrew. My name is Andrew. It was given to me by my mother the day I was born. Most people use it when they need to address me. I vastly prefer it to being called “sir,” especially since I’m not in your chain of command.”

“Ah, yes, sir, um, Andrew,” he fumbled, surprised by the relaxed nature of their conversation.

“How is life back in Cadia, Noah?”

“It’s fine.” He started to add “sir” at the end, but caught himself. Using the Cadian ambassador’s first name was still a little much, so he decided to be safe and do neither. “Lots of snow so far, probably double what you have here,” he said with a quick peek out the window.

Andrew nodded, then regarded the two men who had come with him. “So the three of you are to help out with my overworked guard force?” he asked.

He nodded, carefully not reacting to the way Hector seemed to sag with relief. Perhaps things really were that busy in Cloud Lake. Andrew was the ambassador, sent by the shifter territory of Cadia to help keep the peace with Cloud Lake, the nearest human settlement. Although they were separated by a mountain range, the amount of contact between the two entities was quite substantial, at least as far as the notoriously private shifters were concerned.

Noah considered his new position for a moment. Andrew was a gryphon shifter. That meant he was more powerful than most. He could quite easily take on the four shifters and expect to emerge victorious. So why the need for a bodyguard? He’d asked that question early on in the training for the job. As it turned out, part of it was simply to give the ambassador more hands to help with certain tasks, but they were also being sent as a sort of military police.

Cloud Lake was a popular place for shifters. Calling it a vacation spot might be a stretch, but every two weeks a number of passes were issued to applicants who wished to visit the town. The approved shifters could come over from Cadia and spend their time drinking, socializing, and even visiting the gentlemen’s clubs if they so preferred. From what Noah had been told, a large portion of his job would simply be responding to incidents of shifters getting out of control.

Riot police, hurray.

Still, it had gotten him out of Cadia and would allow him to see something new. After over four and a half decades of living there, he’d needed a change in a big way. This was it.

“Well then,” Andrew said, breaking into his train of thought. “Hector here will assign you rooms and get you familiarized with the layout of the embassy, such as it is. Gray will be around at some point. He’s just with his mate and child at the moment. I’m sure he’ll have a finalized schedule for you, but last I heard, Noah you can expect to start shadowing folks as soon as tomorrow’s night shift. The rest of you will follow from there. Any questions?”

Noah shook his head.

“Good. And please, start trying to relax. We all have jobs to do, and I expect you to do them. But you don’t need to be drones about it. You are allowed to have personalities. Got it?”

“Got it,” Noah said, waiting a heartbeat and then purposefully adding, “Andrew.”

The ambassador grinned. “Humor! I like it. It’s a good start.” He nodded his head in a dismissal and then headed back into the embassy itself, leaving the four of them behind.

Noah turned to look at Hector. “I take it no one told you we were coming?’ he asked gently as the guard pawed through a drawer.

“No,” he said, but there was a smile with the answer. “Gray’s first child was just born two months ago, so things are rather hectic with him. Sometimes he forgets to mention things to me.

“Ah,” Noah said.

Hector looked up as he seemed to find what he was looking for. “Got any yourself?” he asked, motioning for the four of them to follow.

“What? No, not for me,” Noah said, trying not to grimace. He knew he was getting older for a shifter. Even though they tended to live longer than humans, frequently reaching two decades over the century mark, he was still getting up in age.

Hector seemed to pick up on the awkwardness his question had brought and simply inclined his head by way of apology. Noah shrugged it off and then gestured for the guard to lead them onward.

There were two wide, curved stairways, one attached to either wall. Hector took them up the one on the left, and led them to their rooms. Noah followed, forcing his mind back onto the job at hand. Now was the time to focus. He could bemoan his lack of a mate and offspring later, when he was all settled in.