Monroe

SKIN WALKERS:

MONROE

By

Susan A. Bliler

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Susan A. Bliler

www.susanbliler.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cover fonts, spine, and back cover done by:

Cindy Hubbard

Image courtesy of Shutterstock

Editing done by:

Leiah Cooper with

So I Read This Book Today…

http://soireadthisbooktoday.com/

As always thanks to my Beta, Cindy.

I couldn’t do this without you.

Thanks for believing in me when no one else did.

;o) ting

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidences are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Susan A. Bliler.

DEDICATION

Robert and Janelle

Thanks for being there for my Cinda!

I’ll never forget all that you did for her when she needed family the most.

Chapter 1

Monroe StoneCrow stepped out of his chauffeured Humvee and stared in displeasure at the lack of progress on his most-recent endeavor. Steely blue eyes sparked in impatience as the cold Montana wind ruffled what had moments before been perfectly styled, short black hair.

Currently, the sprawling seven hundred acres of Montana forest land he’d recently purchased from an aging rancher were a snow-covered construction nightmare. His eyes narrowed on an excavator as it chugged black smoke into the crisp, pink sky. The operator swung the bucket around, offering a nudge to the small skid steer lodged deep in the thick mud.

Monroe’s eyes slid to the foreman as he approached, and he knew before Donald could even offer an excuse that the equipment being used was insufficient.

Mr. StoneCrow. Donald extended his hand but Monroe simply looked from it to the man in agitation.

The foreman pulled his hand back to scratch the scruff on his jaw line. She’s not coming along as quickly as I’d hoped but…

Monroe’s eyes narrowed on the much shorter man. She’s not coming along at all.

Donald turned to point at the work site. Well, you can see that we’ve…

Again, Monroe interrupted. Why are you using this equipment?

Donald eyed the few pieces of large equipment that chugged around the area, billowing clouds of black smoke. "Well, they’re not doing a bad job."

Monroe’s brows shot up in incredulity. "They’re not doing a good job either."

Donald shifted uncomfortably. Well, a dozer and front-end loader would help considerably, but it’d cost an arm and a leg to get ‘em up here.

Monroe didn’t blink. Get it done. I want the equipment we need out here by tomorrow. This job needs to be done by spring.

The contractor whistled, shaking his head. Top of the line equipment or not, it’s gonna be tight. It’s already January…

Monroe’s eyes flashed dangerously. If you can’t get it done, tell me now.

Donald held up his hands. We’ll get ‘er done.

Good. Monroe nodded curtly and turned to head back to the Humvee.

Donald followed quickly behind. Mr. StoneCrow, there’s been one other small problem.

Monroe exhaled audibly. What?

Donald pulled off his hard hat and scratched his sweat dampened forehead. Would you mind talking to the property owner south of the site? We’ve had issues getting our equipment across that particular piece of property.

Issues? Monroe’s jaw tightened in annoyance. What issues?

Seems our heavy equipment is hacking up the road, and the property owner has made it more and more difficult to get through.

We have an easement, Monroe explained curtly. We don’t need permission. Just do it.

Donald replaced his hard hat. Well, easement or not; the gates have been locked. I spend a great deal of time fighting to get the gates open, and by then it’s damn near lunch time. Seems the only time I don’t have to argue is when we leave on Friday. Funny how the end of the workweek seems to be our only free-pass.

Monroe leveled his eyes on the contractor. So, you’re permitted out, but not in?

Donald nodded. Seems to be the case.

Fine. I’ll speak to the landowner personally. In the meantime, you’ve got one week to get my foundation laid.

Christ! One week? There’s damn near a foot of snow on the ground.

Monroe ignored Donald’s obvious exasperation. If you’d have done it three weeks ago, before the storm hit, you wouldn’t be worrying about it now. Regardless, get it done. Monroe stopped halfway in the Humvee as his driver, a large menacing form, stood holding his door open. The stone masons will be here in four weeks to get started. If they don’t have walls, you don’t have a job.

Donald’s face flushed visibly as Monroe eased himself into the back seat of the Humvee.

Inside the vehicle, he pulled out his smart phone and touched the icon for his personal secretary. The phone trilled once before she picked up.

StoneCrow Industries. This is Lilly.

It’s me. Who owns the property south of my work site? Monroe listened to the faint clicking of keyboard keys before Lilly responded.

The parcel directly south of the property is owned by Eddie StCloud.

Eddie? Monroe scoffed. Tell me about our easement on that property.

Lilly cleared her throat. She’d been hired by Monroe not simply because she was a highly efficient secretary, but a highly trained and efficient Paralegal. It’s an easement by necessity meaning…

Monroe didn’t wait for her to continue, he simply cut in to inform her exactly what it was he was after. The land owner has been creating some difficulties. I need to know what my legal remedies are.

Lilly continued undeterred by Monroe’s intrusion. It’s understandable that the landowner is a little…sour. It was necessary to file a lawsuit to obtain this particular type of easement.

So, we sued him for the right?

Yes.

Were there other options?

Yes. We could have sought an access easement.

And why didn’t we?

The land owner showed signs of resistance, and you didn’t want to wait, sir. We argued that our property was landlocked. The Court agreed.

We aren’t landlocked.

Monroe heard the irritation in Lilly’s tone. "The Court agreed, sir."

Monroe exhaled, knowing now that his name and wealth had played a role in imposing the burden of the easement on the non-compliant landowner to the south. He shook his head. His little Paralegal was becoming quite adept at getting him what he asked for, no matter the cost. While hers weren’t his preferred methods of handling business, this particular venture had to be up and running by spring, no questions asked. What are my remedies?

There was a smile in Lilly’s voice then. The easement is Court ordered Mr. StoneCrow. Failure to abide by the Court order, or efforts to inhibit the easement, are grounds for contempt, which is punishable by fines in most cases.

Monroe rubbed a hand over his rugged features. And in other cases?

Incarceration.

He didn’t want to make enemies with his neighbor, not this soon in the game. Have we offered compensation for use of the road?

"We have. You are currently paying for use."

That revelation angered the CEO. It was one thing to have used his name and wealth to have garnered what he wanted from the Court, but paying for the use of the road while not being granted access was highly unacceptable. What do we know about Mr. StCloud?

Lilly was silent while the sound of her keyboard played over the line for several seconds before she responded. Nothing. Mr. StCloud appeared in Court through his Counsel. I’ve attempted to create a profile, but all we know about him is that he’s single, Native American, and works as a Game Warden for the State’s Department of Fish, Wildlife, and Parks.

Game Warden?

It should be noted that, in Montana, Game Wardens are commissioned Peace Officers. The position is considered law enforcement.

Great!

Lilly didn’t miss the sarcasm in his tone. Would you like me to contact Mr. StCloud’s Attorney?

No. I’m already up here. I may as well handle this personally. He ended the call abruptly and stared at his driver who, aside from being his Chief of Security, was also mated to Monroe’s Paralegal, Lilly. King, we’ll be making an unscheduled stop.

Monroe StoneCrow had fought hard to get where he was.  Joining the Marine Corps straight out of high school, he’d quickly been recruited as a Military Police Officer before transferring to Logistics, with a promotion to Human Resources Intelligence Officer soon after.  Renowned for his expertise in the field of lie detection, the military was more than happy to buy his own lie that he’d studied body language and human speech patterns.  The truth, that he was a Skin Walker and could scent a lie, could never be known. 

Post military, he’d been hired privately by some of the wealthiest and most dangerous factions in the world.  Needless to say, he had friends in very high places.  For a time, he’d even been employed as a private assassin.  He’d done the job well and even enjoyed it for a time.  That was, until the day he’d been hired to execute the Platoon Commander assigned to counterintelligence for an American-based division.  It’s how he’d met King Mulholland and finally realized that his father was correct – they weren’t the only Skin Walkers in existence.  Though his parents had said as much, he hadn’t believed it until he’d encountered King.  As a teenager, he’d thought he and his family were the only ones of their kind, but his father had quickly informed him that Walkers were many in number.  He’d taught his son to calm his inner beasts enough to be able to sense another Walker when they were in close proximity, but even with all his teachings, he’d never encountered a Skin Walker outside his family until he’d met King. 

His parents raised him on what he believed were simply legends.  He’d heard of ancient North American tribes rumored to be able to shift into an animal’s form by wearing that animal’s skin, but it wasn’t until he’d hit puberty that he realized he truly was different.  It was then that his mother and father had introduced him to his Skin Walker abilities.  He’d hated it at first.  It was hard enough being a teenager without adding in the highly ludicrous fact that he was able to shape-shift. 

Now, he loved that he was a Skin Walker. And he was even more proud of the fact that he’d been able to build a sanctuary for his fellow Walkers, using his accrued wealth and contacts.  He began using his inherent talents to seek out his fellow Skin Walkers and, once they began pouring into the state, he began to build a strong-hold for his kind, a place where Walkers could live and thrive in safety. His parent’s teachings had inspired his dreams, not only of building a sanctuary, but a school as well, so that Walker children could learn not only educational requirements, but also how to hone their Walker abilities and skills from their own kind. His Walker brethren no longer needed to live in secrecy or to hide from the world. Here, they could be themselves and not be judged or ostracized, or even worse, experimented upon. While they hid their gifts from the public eye, StoneCrow Estates gave them the opportunity to live as free beings, unashamed, unafraid, and in a community of their peers. It was home.

His parents, who had originally assisted him in his recruitment of Skin Walkers, now resided full-time in Ireland.  They’d encountered a species there similar to Walkers and were staying to learn as much as they could before returning to the States.  The Irish shifter species called themselves Silkies, but unlike Walkers, they were only able to shift to water creatures.

Skin Walkers weren’t so restricted.   They existed in five differing stages; each more skilled and powerful than the next.  Like their ancestors, all Walkers had the ability to shape-shift, but in varying degrees. 

Stage one typically referred to the extremely young Walkers, those not yet versed in their heritage and abilities. Stage two Walkers were slightly more advanced, and were able to shift to the form of one animal, but only for a limited amount of time, while stage three Walkers could shift freely to a few animal forms.

Stage four Walkers, like Monroe and King, were much more advanced. They possessed the ability to shift to any form of animal for any length of time. Many believed that Stage four Walkers were psychic; however, it was simply their keen sense of smell that allowed them to detect other’s emotions.

Finally, there were Indigenous Walkers. These Walkers were direct descendants of the most ancient Walkers, purportedly Anasazi. They too could shift to any animal form for any length of time and possessed the keenest senses of all Walkers; however, unlike the others, it was rumored that Indigenous Walkers possessed the ability to control the elements.

Monroe had been more than delighted when King had contacted him from a recruitment mission he’d been assigned in Phoenix. Two weeks later, King came back to Montana with RedKnife KillsPrettyEnemy, the only known Indigenous Skin Walker still in existence.

As word of StoneCrow Estates had spread, its population had continued to grow, which was the reason he was now purchasing more land on the northern edge of the Highwood Mountains. His dream was now a reality and had become more successful than he’d ever hoped. To his delight, some Walkers had even begun finding their Angels and procreating. That, above all, was his main goal. The survival of his kind meant more to him than anything else in the world. He’d stop at nothing to force his Walkers to claim the one true source of what would be their greatest contentment and would guarantee their existence. A mate!

Chapter 2

As the Humvee eased to a halt in front of the neat little ranch-style house, a black Lab sidled down the porch and sniffed the vehicle’s tires before ambling away in disinterest. King pulled the keys from the ignition, but before he could open his door Monroe halted him.

Wait here. I don’t want to give this guy the impression that I’m attempting to intimidate.

King smiled at Monroe in the rearview mirror. Us? Intimidating?

Monroe’s lips quirked as he shook his head and exited the car. He pulled his charcoal colored, wool blazer together to button it as he purposefully ascended the two wooden steps leading to the front door. He raised a gloved hand to knock, but didn’t get the chance. Instead, the door jerked open leaving Monroe unprepared for the angry beauty that stood scowling up at him.

Can I help you?

Monroe smiled politely, enjoying the angry fire that blazed in the dark brown eyes that frowned back at him. He let his gaze slide down the petite frame of the raven-haired beauty. Her long, straight hair was as dark as her eyes and hung in glossy waves to her trim waist. Her olive complexion and high cheekbones hinted at native ancestry. Monroe finally allowed his eyes to settle on the full, pink lips that formed a succulent frown.

I’d like to speak with the property owner if he’s in.

The woman, wearing form fitting, worn jeans and a red, button-up blouse, crossed her arms over her ample chest. "Yes, she is."

Monroe tossed a cursory glance over her head before dropping his eyes back to hers. I was informed the property owner was a Mr. Eddie StCloud.

The woman pursed her lips before speaking. Not Eddie. Edie. It’s short for Eden. She uncrossed her arms impatiently. Look, what can I do for you Mr. StoneCrow?

Monroe’s eyes lit with a spark of interest at the fact that she referenced him by name without him having introduced himself. Done her homework, I see. Eden? Well, Mrs. StCloud, might I speak with your husband or father, or whoever runs this property?

Eden’s eyes darkened as she lowered her head, her lip curling derisively. "My father is dead, and there is no husband. I run this property, and, unfortunately for you; I’ve run out of patience. Good day, Mr. StoneCrow. She stepped back and began closing the door as she spoke. I’m late for work."

Monroe’s firm hand on the door stopped her from closing it in his face. Clearly, I’ve offended you, Ms. StCloud, but I’m afraid I can’t afford to let the issue rest another day.

Eden frowned at his hand on the door. "And what, exactly, is your issue?"

Monroe pulled his hand back and straightened his jacket. It seems the laborers on my site are having difficulty gaining access to my land.

Eden’s eyes flicked to the road then back, her lips curling in satisfaction. Is that a fact?

Monroe’s lips thinned. Clearly, she was not only fully aware of the trouble she’d been causing, but she was amused by it as well. The easement is Court ordered, Angel. You can fight it all you like, but if I have to take your pretty little ass to Court, I will.

Eden’s smile vanished, her cheeks flaming at the insult. "I am a far cry from being an Angel, and don’t threaten me with legal action. Been there, done that! I’m not intimidated in the least, and if you can’t keep those fucking morons you call laborers on that road and off my property, I will put a bullet in somebody’s not-so-pretty little ass."

Monroe couldn’t help the smile that tilted his lips. The action was rare and felt odd, but this little spit-fire was entertaining as hell. Regardless, he had a job to get done, and she was interfering. We’ve got more heavy equipment coming through. There may be damage to your road, but it’s nothing I can’t have fixed once the job’s done.

Eden crossed her arms over her chest again, her disdain for the man growing by the second. Has it ever occurred to you, Daddy Warbucks, that you can’t simply buy your way out of everything?

Monroe tilted his head. No. It hasn’t. With that, he turned and strode back to his waiting ride before stopping to toss over his shoulder, And, Angel?

Eden stood seething in her doorway.

Feel free to call me Daddy anytime.

Monroe’s condescending smile didn’t go unnoticed before Eden slammed her door.

When Monroe eased into the backseat of the Humvee, King started the vehicle and maneuvered it down the mountain.

How’d it go?

For some odd reason, Monroe couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid grin from his lips. Great.

Great? King frowned at him in the rearview mirror. She didn’t seem too happy.

Monroe’s grin widened into a broad smile. She wasn’t.

King had to jerk the wheel, just in time to keep them from driving straight into a tree. He’d been too focused on CEO StoneCrow’s expression in the rearview mirror. It was so rare to see Monroe smile that, when he did, it was typically with terrifying consequences. King couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be asked to pay the woman in the cabin a visit. He pitied anyone who made an enemy of Monroe.

Chapter 3