Westmore Wolves Series: Shapesifter Collection Bks 1-5 Page 22

  A low growl trickled up from the back of his throat and he stalked forward, pausing to listen at the kitchen door.

  “What do you want?” Mrs. Dashnell, his housekeeper yelped, her voice rose in obvious panic.

  “She’s crazy, Mrs. D. Get her out of here.” Reggie, his gardener piped up. The young man had been working on the seasonal gardens at the front of the house. He so closely resembled the character on the Scooby Doo cartoon, Soren had to take great care not to call him Shaggy.

  “Where is Soren? I know he’s here.”

  Mrs. Dashnell harrumphed. “Mr. Rochester is out. You need to leave before I call the authorities.”

  “I don’t think so.” Shelby purred.

  He heard movement and a gasp from the older woman.

  “Put that away this instant.”

  “Mrs. D!” Reggie’s voice morphed from a panicked vocalization to a canine yelp.

  “What in hell are you doing here?” Soren burst into the kitchen and watched in horror as his knife wielding ex-girlfriend hurled herself at him. He wished to God he’d listened to the warnings that red lettered in his mind before it was too late.

  Soren deflected her maneuver and set her spinning into a counter. He glanced down and saw a cocker spaniel sitting forlornly on his kitchen floor. He turned his gaze to Mrs. D.

  “Reggie?”

  She nodded, not allowing her vision to stray from Shelby.

  The poor dog sat quivering on his kitchen rug and a slow puddle of pee pooled around him spreading out onto the ceramic tile floor.

  Great.

  “Keep calm, Reggie. We’ll get this mess sorted out.”

  Scary. Want to run.

  “Stay put, boy. I mean Reggie. I can’t fix it if you run, okay?” Soren peered down at the frightened dog, relieved when he whined in what he hoped was acknowledgement.

  “I knew you were home.” Shelby leaned against the counter, knife dangling from her black lacquered fingertips.

  “Knock it off, Shelby. Turn Reggie back. Now.”

  “Why would I do that?” Shelby stood up and let the knife swing between her fingers. “Especially after what you did. Kicking me out like I was yesterday’s trash. That wasn’t nice.”

  Soren regarded her angelic face. He would have never thought she could harm a fly yet here she stood in his kitchen threatening him and his staff. She was bat shit crazy and he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Get. Out.”

  “You said you loved me. People who love you don’t leave.” Shelby’s voice wobbled and the hand holding the silver blade shook. Streaks of black mascara ran down her face, adding to her unstable appearance. Her long black hair hung in clumps around her face and her Goth style clothing grungy and unkempt.

  She was a danger and his wolf paced inside of him. The fur moved underneath Soren’s skin and he fought to keep his change under wraps. If he lost control and shifted now, someone might get injured. He needed to get Reggie transformed back before the kid had a meltdown and shit all over the place.

  Irritation clawed at him. “This conversation was over before it even began. You hurt my family. Game over. Now get out.”

  This tied it. When he got her out he was calling Carrick and bringing on some security.

  Shelby sniffled. “All I wanted was for you to be with me. We would have been perfect together. Don’t you see that?”

  Soren shook his head. “No. And this just proves it. You need to respect my wishes. You can’t make me love you. Not if you don’t have respect for me and mine.”

  “They’re just dogs and servants.” A breeze blew through the kitchen sending a stack of paper napkins to the floor. Shelby’s hair fluttered around her face, a diabolical smile twisting her lips. “I wanted to be a part of your family. Don’t you see? We would have been unstoppable. My spells could have made your business soar higher than you’ve ever been.”

  Disbelief coiled inside of him. “I don’t need your help for that.”

  “You will when I’m done with you.” Her gaze followed him as he took a step closer. “They think they love you. But they don’t. Not if they find out the wolf’s been hiding in puppy dog clothing.”

  Fear tugged at Soren. He’d been so careful to keep his wolf at bay, to hide his true nature from her. He should have known she would find out eventually. His flesh crawled at the possibility of discovery. The world wasn’t ready to find out about shifters any more than they would be ready to learn that vampires weren’t just glittery angels of the night. His pack had already had enough public scrutiny. Any more would be disastrous, not to mention what it could do to him financially.

  “Stop this. You’re taking a course of action that will have consequences.”

  “Please put the knife down, dear.” Mrs. Dashnell, Soren’s housekeeper held out her hand in an attempt to pacify her. The older woman’s eyes had taken on a yellow glow and he could sense the wolf in her barely held in check.

  Reggie whined, shrinking against the cabinets, his wide doggie eyes missing nothing. Before this, the boy had been human, secure in the illusion that he was the dominant species. Reality, it seemed, was taking its toll.

  “No. You’ve been against me from the start.” What began as a statement turned into a wail. The knife flashed as Shelby darted forward, her arm arcing out, blade swinging wildly.

  Mrs. Dashnell cried out, staggering back into Soren’s arms, revealing a deep slash down her forearm. A growl burst from the cook’s lips and her hands shifted into claws.

  “Maudine. Get Reggie out of here now.” Fury skimmed under the surface and he let the wolf take a little more control. His features changed, the shift bending muscle and bone to its will. “Leave. You’ve crossed the line and in a few moments I won’t be responsible for my actions. And I damn well won’t be for the rest of my staff.” Soren gripped Shelby’s forearms and spun her towards the door. Laughing, she maneuvered out of his grip.

  “You’ll be sorry. Then you’ll see no one will love you but me.” Shelby whispered and raised her hands. Her gaze bright with unshed tears, she sliced her own hand, mingling her blood with the blood on the knife. After a pause, she spoke. “I curse you and yours to the same fate, Soren Rochester. You wanted to stay hidden. To keep the beast you are a secret from the world. I curse you and anyone you love to become the thing you fear the most.”

  “Stop this.” Soren rasped. “You’ve gone too far.”

  “I haven’t gone far enough,” she said, her eyes crazy moments before turning lucid and intent on him. “You hold your family in such regard, but it is you Soren who are about to be given a life sentence of loneliness and despair when the good looks you depend on turn into the beast you truly are.” Shelby scrutinized the night sky through the kitchen window and turned to meet his gaze. “By the next full moon you must find someone who truly loves you and the beast inside. If you don’t then everyone you have ever loved will share your fate.”

  “No.”

  Shelby shook her head. “You took my heart and tore it to shreds. Two weeks, Soren. Then I come to visit. And the reunion…it will be just killer.” She slid the blade into her belt and flounced from the kitchen, a smell of burning sulfur in her wake.

  Chapter Two

  “How many applications have you done?” Allyse Montlake sidled up to her best friend Cara and sighed. Her feet were killing her from the three inch heels and she just wanted to go home. The job fair was a great idea, but she was ready to call it a day. Besides, she had a new hunky werewolf romance by her favorite author burning a hole in her e-reader.

  Mina Carter made her dream. All of her characters were big beautiful women with the power to choose, and she wanted that in her own life. But step one was finding a job that didn’t leave her eating those disgusting noodle packages four nights out of the week just to get by.

  It wasn’t like there were many job postings for witches for hire. The few shops she’d been to around town didn't do it for her. Not at all. The one downtown was all dark ma
gic and wannabe warlocks with porn on the brain. The shop a few streets over was nice enough but it was still across town and the one day she’d stepped in to help out with measuring herbs and trying to assist a customer with a deck of tarot cards, the woman had paid her in a vagina candle.

  Not going to pay the rent. Like ever. Or buy her smutty e-books. An overhaul of her life was in order so here she was, praying that something would hit.

  What Allyse really wanted to do was open up her own witchy plant and new age shop but that took more capital than she’d ever be able to dig up. As far as powers went, hers weren’t up on the scale of exciting ones. But she could find lost keys like a champ and if a customer wanted a book at the bookstore where she worked, well that was right up her witchy little alley. If it was there in the stacks, she was the girl to find it.

  Her other skill was in communicating with plants and she hadn’t quite figured out how that was supposed to help her do much of anything. The one job she’d had at a florist had traumatized her so badly she’d left for lunch and just never went back. You can’t cut the heads off of people that talked to you, and that included daisies.

  Maybe she could look for a job opening for a Poison Ivy character. Right. Allyse sighed. This was a job fair, after all. Maybe they had something for witches with no marketable skills.

  Cara shrugged, her wavy brown hair falling into her eyes. “I don’t know. I lost count after twelve.”

  When her friend spoke, she almost forgot she’d actually asked her a question, so lost was she in her own thoughts.

  “Wow.” Allyse eyed the throngs of people clustered on the other side of the convention center and groaned. “We still have half a building to go.”

  “We can do it. I know there’s something out there.”

  Allyse waved toward a table full of airline representatives. “What about a stewardess?”

  “Do they even call it that anymore?” Cara glanced down at a map of the fair and her head shot up, a near shriek emitting from her lips. “Oh my God. They’re taking applications for the next Extreme Bachelor season. How did I not know this?”

  “What?”

  “Are you kidding me? Have you ever seen the show?”

  Allyse shook her head. “No. I’ve been pulling in nights at the bookstore lately and between that and walking the streets trying to find a new job I haven’t watched much television at all.”

  Cara snorted. “That’s why they invented the DVR, girl. For cave dwellers like you. Come on.” She looped her arm through Allyse’s and trudged toward a highly populated section not too far from where they were standing.

  “Ha ha. Wait! You’ll break my leg off.”

  “If you don’t hurry, I’m going to drag you by your hair.” Cara bounded forward, intent on reaching her destination. “Come on. Didn’t you do some behind the scenes work for the school play? And what about that cooking show you did some work on?”

  “That’s hardly the same thing. They’ll want a more professional presence, Cara, not a curvy witch with introvert tendencies.” Allyse tottered after her and moments later reached the back of a huge, but rapidly moving, line of giggling young women and one or two men. Affixed to the event space was a large sign showing interviews for the show were in progress. Five people at a time were lined up and brought forward for group interviews and they weren’t taking long with each one.

  “You sell yourself short. Just try it? For me?” Cara grinned at her, batting her eyes.

  Her legs throbbing, Allyse reached down to rub her calves through the leg of her dress slacks. “Okay. Sure. But I can tell you right now I’ll have a better shot at that bakery assistant gig.”

  “Oh, look.” Cara had already stopped listening and craned her neck forward and to the side to get a better look. “They’re taking pictures as they leave.”

  “Great,” Allyse mumbled. The line was quick, and before she knew it, Cara was waving at her as she made her way up to her interview panel. Alyssa pulled out her phone and sent a text to her mother while she waited for her turn.

  How are you feeling, Mom?

  Good, honey. How’s the job hunt?

  Long.

  You can do it. Just wiggle that nose.

  Thanks, Mom. Get some rest.

  See u ltr.

  Bye.

  Slipping the phone back in her purse, she looked up just in time as the next group of candidates, including her, was signaled over. Leave it to her mom to make light of the situation. She needed this job. Her mom was counting on her. The oncology bills were covered some by insurance, however slowly, but surely the small savings Allyse had accumulated with her last full-time position had been eaten away. Working at the bookstore part time helped out with groceries and house payments, but not much more. Long term employment was her goal, but if she got lucky on a behind the scenes job on the show until she could get something better then she would try it.

  “If you would all come this way, please.” A young woman in a smart business suit led them toward five folding chairs arranged in front of a panel of individuals. One of them looked familiar. A movie star? Maybe.

  The other candidates moved ahead of her, sending her sharp looks as they passed. One of them, a tiny woman with a mass of blonde hair in a silver dress and strappy heels narrowed her eyes.

  “Really? You think you’ll get picked for this? Get out of here and go graze somewhere else, fatty.” She marched forward, leaving Allyse staring at her in shock.

  That bitch.

  Being plus size was hard enough, but to have it shoved in her face just pissed her off. She lifted her chin to find one of the panel members considering her with a curious expression. She took her seat on the end of the row, thankfully as far away from the blonde asshat as possible. It was moments like these where she wished she’d at least inherited the power to zap the holy mother shit out of someone just because she could. But even witch genes had a sense of humor, apparently, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  Maybe she could strangle her with that fichus she saw in the corner by the partition.

  “Thank you for coming today.” The woman, who had been observing Allyse, stood and made her way in front of the group. “My name is Jenica Stephens, and I will lead this interview session. The other members on the team fill varying positions in the production of Extreme Bachelor and are here to offer opinions on each candidate’s demeanor and overall acceptability for the project. Now…let’s get started.”

  Allyse settled in and watched the woman turn the page in her notebook to a fresh page.

  “I need all of your names, please.” She went down the line, finally reaching Allyse.

  “Allyse Montlake.”

  “Thank you. Now, for the sake of simplicity, I will inquire as to some of your particular talents and flexibility. I want you to speak out one at a time, and I will add your answer to my notes. First, I would like you all to pass your résumés to the side and they will be collected.”

  Allyse reached inside her faux leather zipper notebook and removed a copy of her résumé, passing it to the left. The growing stack reached the end and a young man retrieved them, bringing the paperwork to the panel.

  “Good. Now here we go. Tell me about your first romance…”

  The questions droned on and on.

  Did she sing? Not if she could help it.

  Dance? Not on your life.

  Did she like animals? Dog person definitely.

  What kind of music? Rock.

  Ideal first date? Dinner and a movie.

  Did she believe in true love? Hmmm. She wanted to but so far it wasn’t looking up in that direction.

  Did she cook? Yes.

  First kiss? A box of double fudge chocolate squares…and on and on to the point where Allyse’s head was swimming.

  “Would any of you be willing to work behind the scenes? We are also looking for help in the kitchen and other tasks.”

  Allyse was the only one that raised her hand.

  “Thank you
, ladies, for stopping by today. Some of you will be hearing from us and for the others, it was very nice meeting you. Now, if you’ll follow Mirinda, she can show you the way.”

  Allyse stumbled to her feet and followed the crowd out. This was a stick figure model’s game. No way would she ever be called back. She scanned the milling people for Cara and decided to cover the second half of the convention hall today. Even if it killed her.

  Cara would find her. She switched her cell to vibrate and shoved it back in her purse. The day was far from over, even if her feet wished otherwise. There was a job out there with her name on it if she had the perseverance to try.

  Chapter Three

  Soren Rochester surveyed the circus unfolding on his lawn and bit back an oath. He had a week left before his ex-girlfriend’s curse took hold and instead of being out there actively trying to find a mate, he was sitting here watching his world being upended. Truckloads of people and party equipment rolled through his private sanctum and he wanted to scream.

  He surveyed his publicist texting on her phone and tried to suppress a shudder. “Remind me again why this is a good idea?”

  Roxy grinned and thumbed through a stack of folders. “Because I’m wonderful and I promised your mother and Carrick I wouldn’t let you shame the family name by getting neutered by that sad excuse for a witch.” Her pixie-like face scrunched into a mischievous grin. “I make it a point never to let that woman down.”

  Soren winced. “How nicely put.”

  His new security agent, Abraham, turned his head from the window and offered a snort. Muscular and quick on his feet, the African American man held a secret of his own. He was one of Carrick’s newly acquired gargoyles and already he’d earned his keep by scaring the utter bejeezus out of a member of the paparazzi when they tried to get too close. For the last few nights the man had perched on the roof, keeping tabs on the property and all the goings on. Carrick had recommended the man for the job due to his special talent in sniffing out magical mischief.