Shifters

Chapter 1

Charlotte, North Carolina USA

1996

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Otherwise, Sharra Lane would have been home with a book, instead of sweating in her new pumps over this interview. But, money made the world go around, and right now, money was what she needed. Not tomorrow. Not today. Yesterday. Yesterday when the rent was due.

Too close, Sharra thought, checking her watch as she hurried down the eighteenth-floor hallway to her appointment.

With two minutes to spare, it didn't give her much time to catch her breath. And she needed to be ready. It's not every day one got a job interview with the Head Director of a company. Being late was not an option, especially when it came to first impressions. It didn't hurt to work on the brownie points either. Jobs were scarce, and with only two weeks left to find another one, time was running out.

She checked the suite number on the business card in her hand with the passing numbers, and picked up her pace. Halfway down, she found it. She brushed a loose bit of hair out of her eyes, and read the nameplate.

"Vault Agency," she said, reading the plain black lettering on the door.

As soon as the words left her lips, the business card between her fingers surged to life, sending a quick burst of energy down her hand, much stronger than it had ever done before.

"Whoa," she said, and dropped the card.

It floated to the floor, and landed face-up on the carpet, revealing the silver-embossed slogan, 'Vault Agency—Making a Better World for the Future,' printed on the black background. Next to it was the company logo, a silver crescent moon within another larger one. Both were joined by a silver nail that ran down through the top, and ended at a point between the extremities of the crescent moons. It shimmered and glowed as if the silver had liquefied against the black ink. It had never been quite so bright before, nor so alive.

"I've got to lay off the chocolate."

Sharra studied it for a moment longer before she scooped it up and slipped it back into her purse, leaving the odd energy to pulse in the darkness of her bag. There was no time to think about it now. She glanced at her watch again, and pulled her shoulders back. It would have to wait.

"Nerves of steel," she said, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," came the masculine voice through the thick wood of the door.

Her stomach churned, making butter of her lunch. Swallowing down her nerves, she opened the door.

Inside, the late afternoon sun beamed into a paneled office through a wall of windows at the far end of the suite, bathing the man sitting behind the heavy wooden desk in a halo of light.

Sharra narrowed her eyes against the glare, but could not see his face.

"Please come forward, Miss Lane. Don't be shy. I've been expecting you," he said in a cultured British accent.

She took a nervous step forward, and headed across the expanse of cream carpet to the leather chairs in front of the desk. Halfway down the room a display of ornate weaponry sat like trophies on their glass shelving. The assortment of blades, axes, and hammers engraved with ancient runes were arranged to catch the beams from the small spotlights situated on the ceiling. Emeralds, rubies, and diamonds sparkled on the hilts. Her eyes widened with appreciation. She didn't know much about antiques, but could guess at their value, knowing even the least expensive item was worth more than what she could earn in a year.