Vector is the Council Leader, a position he’s held for as long as I can remember. His voice carries the authority of someone who’s never been questioned, never been denied. I’ve always respected him, but I’ve also been careful to stay out of his direct line of sight.
Until now, and it’s not by choice.
I swallow thickly, keeping a tight hold on my nerves as I lower myself into the single chair facing their table.
Breathe!
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Vector continues, his steel-gray eyes fixed on mine.
“Yes, I am indeed,” I reply, keeping my voice level.
A few of the council members exchange glances. Councilor Reed, seated to Vector’s left, leans forward slightly. I’ve always enjoyed our interaction since she’s more direct than some of the others.
“We have an assignment for you,” Vector says. “One that will require you to break the most important rule in our book.”
I frown. I have worked my entire life to uphold the rules.
“We need you to leave Draig Island,” he continues.
I hold back a snort. “Apologies.” I lick my lips. “It’s just that…I… I’m shocked, that’s all. We…um…shifters don’t leave our island. Ever. It’s the most fundamental rule of our existence, enforced by the Mainland government…and by all of us. Perhaps I misunderstood, Councilor Vector. You want me to leave Draig Island?”
“You didn’t misunderstand.” His expression doesn’t change. “You’ll be going to the Mainland to infiltrate the human government.”
Holy shit!
I grip the arms of my chair. This is impossible. Unthinkable.
How?
Why?
A million questions run through my mind and all at once.
“I don’t understand,” I finally manage to say.
“You will work as Personal Assistant to the Secretary of Homeland Security,” Councilor Reed explains. She stands, walking to me. Then she places a folder in front of me. “We submitted your application for the position, and you’ve been selected. There will be a formal interview when you arrive in one month, but that’s just a formality.”
I stare at the folder like it might explode. “One month? A Personal Assistant?” I realize that I am repeating everything like a complete idiot, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I am gobsmacked. I can’t process what they are telling me. It’s too ridiculous. Not to mention that it goes against our very principles. This is the last thing I expected to hear today.
What the hell?
This is insane.
“Yes, one month. It will give you time to prepare,” Vector says. “You’ll need to grow your hair out as much as possible.” He looks at the top of my head. “Your short style is uncommon for human females. You’ll also need to reduce your training regimen. Your current muscle definition is… Let’s just say that humans aren’t typically built like we are.”
“Why me? I’m not sure I would even pass as a PA.”
“You will handle the position in your sleep,” Vector says. “We chose you because you are one of the most controlled dragon shifters on Draig Island. It also needs to be said that you’re well-trained, disciplined, and will be capable of maintaining your cover under pressure. You already run your entire department with one eye closed and do a damned good job of it. We believe in you, Shadow.”
Councilor Drake, a younger member whom I can’t quite get a read on, speaks for the first time. “I know it doesn’t need to be said, but I’m going to say it anyway: you willnotbe permitted to shift while on the Mainland. You’ll be given one weekend per month to return to Draig Island for that purpose. Otherwise, shifting is forbidden.”
My dragon recoils at his words, a sharp spike of panic shooting through me. Not being able to shift for weeks at a time? That’s asking for the near impossible. We need to shift regularly to stay sane.
“I understand the difficulty of this restriction,” Reed says, her voice gentler now. “But if you shift on the Mainland, humans will die. And if that happens, you will be executed, and we will be in a pile of… Let’s just say there’d be serious repercussions.”
“Understood,” I say as I reach for the folder with trembling fingers, pulling it toward me. Inside, I find documents detailing a completely fabricated life. Birth certificate, education records, and employment history. Looks like I’m going to be posing as a human female named Claire Douglas.
“Study everything in that file,” Drake instructs. “Your new identity, your job description, appropriate wardrobe choices. You have one month to become Claire Douglas.”