Alpha_ An Urban Fantasy Novel (War of the Alphas Book 3) - SM Reine Page 0,1

easily as downstairs.” A few feet from the registration booth, she assembled a tripod and set her camera on top of it. She would be able to film the three shifters pounding against the door now as the moon rose.

There were laws against video recording at safe houses meant to protect the privacy of the inhabitants. January Lazar knew that, and she obviously felt no fear of repercussions.

Now another pair of people were entering the parking lot. The streetlights gave Mallory a great view of their faces.

Everton Stark had arrived.

“Are you filming?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” January said.

The cougar shifter recognized him and stopped trying to break into the safe house. “Everton Stark!” She crossed the parking lot to fall at his feet.

January moved the camera to film it.

The transformation was rapidly overtaking Bianca Grant. Her whole body shook with the change. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fought against it, bucking with pain.

Stark glanced at the camera to make sure it was focused on him, then kneeled in front of Bianca. He lifted her chin with a knuckle. Their eyes met. “Your transformation doesn’t hurt,” he said. “Change quickly, and change in peace.”

Bianca’s eyes went blank. She stopped shaking.

Within seconds, the animal form took over her. Fur covered her body. Her face elongated into a muzzle. Her knees reversed direction.

A mountain lion stood where she had been kneeling.

The werewolves tripped over their own feet to rush to Everton Stark.

“Stay away from him!” Mallory called. “He’s dangerous! An enemy of the state!”

They ignored her, but Stark’s companion didn’t.

The woman who had arrived with Stark leaned down to look at Mallory through the window. “Hi there. I’m Deirdre Tombs.”

“I know you.” She had seen Deirdre Tombs alongside Everton Stark in several videos online. The woman was just as deadly as the man. Mallory’s fingers slipped under the desk, searching for the panic button that would notify the Office of Preternatural Affairs of an emergency.

“Great. So you’ve seen me killing people.” Deirdre formed her fingers into the shape of a gun and poked them against the glass. “Pop.”

She wasn’t even holding an actual gun, but Mallory flinched.

“Don’t push your panic button,” Deirdre said. “We’re not planning on getting any visits from the Office of Preternatural Affairs tonight. Okay?”

Mallory’s forefinger came across the swell of the panic button.

All it would take was one tap, and the Office of Preternatural Affairs would come running.

But they could only come so quickly.

They wouldn’t arrive in time to save her from Everton Stark and Deirdre Tombs.

Stark was making the werewolves change now. They shifted from one form to the other peacefully, calmly, and January Lazar filmed it all.

Despite her years working at a safe house, Mallory had never actually watched any of the shifters change. She was a witch. The weakest of the gaean classes. She knew to keep at least two locked doors and a handful of wards between her and the shifters on the nights of the moons.

It was a horrifying thing to see, that change. The way that their bodies distorted and rearranged had to be painful. Bones broke and tore through the skin in multiple places.

There was blood. There were also other fluids, which Mallory didn’t even want to identify.

But the shifters looked so calm as they changed.

Stark was doing that to them. That was powerful stuff.

Mallory didn’t want to think about what he could do to her.

She dropped her finger from the button, even though relenting made her heart sink.

“Good. That’s good.” Deirdre was so friendly, so encouraging. “What’s your name?”

“Mallory,” she said.

“Okay, Mallory. If you keep being cooperative, then there’s no reason for anyone to die tonight. Understand? I’d love it if tonight ended without anyone dying. So I’m going to need you to unlock all the doors inside the safe house,” Deirdre said.

“Why?”

“Mallory, my friend, we just talked about this. I need you to be cooperative. Okay?”

Deirdre still wasn’t actually holding a gun. She didn’t look all that threatening, either. When she spoke, she flashed a gap between her upper front teeth, which made her look cute rather than traditionally beautiful. A man’s flannel shirt over cheap jeans concealed her curves.

She could have been any random shifter.

Except that she’d come with that guy.

“Okay.” Mallory clicked through the new software to find the override for the locks on the interior doors. Most of the shifters who’d checked in that night were werewolves. They might beat each other up, but they probably wouldn’t manage to kill anyone.

Deirdre glanced at the moon—the first