Alpha Betrayed: A Dark Shifter Romance
Broken Kingdom Chapter 8

Ford

The good news is that the borough hall of records is only half a mile from the helicopter pad and just a few blocks from Jean-Paul's compound. The bad news is that the woman at the desk isn't in the mood to bend the rules or hand out any favors. "Five to ten business days," she says again in response to Catherine's gentle insistence that obtaining these records is a matter of utmost importance. "You'll get a phone call when your files are ready to be picked up."

"Five to ten days will be too late," I say, lowering my voice and threading my fingers together atop the counter at the request window. "Our friend is in trouble. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but these building plans could mean the difference between good things for her-"

"And very, very bad things," Layla cuts in, giving the woman the bear shifter version of puppy dog eyes. "Please, ma'am. We're just trying to look out for someone we love, and we'd really appreciate your help."

The woman's painted on brows arch higher on her doughy face. "If the situation is that serious, I suggest you call the police. There's nothing I can do for you-or your friend-today." She pushes away from the desk and slides off her stool with a grunt, tossing over her shoulder as she moves deeper into the office space, "Five to ten business days. We'll call you."

Layla curses beneath her breath. "That's literally never happened before. The big glassy eyes always win the mean grandma types over in the end."

"It's all right," Catherine says, nibbling on her bottom lip as she turns away from the desk. "I have another idea." She pulls her cell from her pocket and pulls up a browser screen. "Sometimes larger cities have maps of their sewer systems online. For construction firms and people doing home renovation and things, so they don't accidentally dig up or damage something they shouldn't. Give me a few minutes to see what I can replace."

She and Layla settle onto a long wooden bench in the airy lobby of the old gothic building, and I head over to a newspaper stand to buy protein bars and some decent looking apples. In all the chaos of the morning, I haven't eaten anything since late last night, and the others could probably use a snack, too.

If we do need to shift back and forth from our human forms in rapid succession, we'll need calories to burn.

By the time I arrive back at the bench, Catherine has located the sewer map and is homing in on the area near the botanical gardens. "It looks like there's a main line here, right next to the street, and at least three slightly smaller offshoots leading into the compound. Not to mention a manhole right across the street." She glances at me over her shoulder, her expression hopeful. "I think I can make it in."

"Good." I hand the bars and apples over. "Eat up and then we're going shopping."

Layla frowns. "Shopping?"

"I saw a store a few blocks over. I need something to cover my face. A hat or a hoodie that actually fits or something. I only met Jean-Paul and his higher ups briefly, but there's a chance he'll recognize me if he sees my face on a security feed. And you know he has cameras all over those walls."

Layla snorts. "Boy, a bigger hoodie isn't going to work. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You are literally the most enormous man in the world."

"I knew a man who was taller when I was growing up," Catherine says. "But he had a glandular disorder, and he wasn't nearly as broad. It's the shoulders that really stand out."

"And the head," Layla agrees. "Who has a head that big? Can you even wear hats made for normal people? Or do you have to special order?"

"My head is a normal size." I bite off a hunk of my protein bar and chew crankily, feeling attacked. "And big muscles come in handy at times, you know."

"They do," Catherine agrees, "but I don't think right now is one of them. I think it's best if Layla is the one to drop me by the compound and make sure I get into the manhole. You can wait a few blocks away, ready to back us up. I need to be close to get inside in my hedgehog form, but I can meet up with you both at a manhole somewhere safer and farther away, once I shift and have legs again. Sewers are less dangerous for people than tiny, edible creatures."

I shake my head. "No way. I should be there with you guys. And how are we going to communicate with you once you're inside or know if you need help? Even if you could carry a cell phone as a hedgehog, it would be destroyed by the time you swam through sewer water."

Layla pulls a face. "Kudos to you for that, though. I'd jump into shit for you guys, too, but I'm glad I don't have to."

"I have an idea about that," Catherine says, "but we'll need to replace a department store, something with a decent-sized toy section. My little cousin was playing with waterproof walkie-talkies at the beach a few summers ago. They were bright pink, but they worked great, even when she was way on one side of the sand, and I was on the other. If we're lucky, they're still available for sale."

"Then let's go replace some," Layla says, rising from the bench. "Not to be negative, but the longer we're here, the worse my heebie-jeebies are getting. We should get Juliet and get the hell out of here. There's something bad in this city, something that's giving me major dark-sided vibes."

I frown. "Like what?"

"Yeah, I don't feel anything," Catherine says, before nodding toward the records' desk. "Though if that woman were a succubus that feeds on frustration, I wouldn't be surprised."

Layla shakes her head as we start toward the exit. "I don't know. I just... Sometimes I can sense when especially dangerous supernatural things are around. My grandmother could, too. That's how she got her job in Parallel Atlanta when I was a kid. She worked security at one of the portals between the worlds. Kind of like an TSA person, except instead of just checking bags and pockets, she checked vibes, too. She kept supernatural things pretending to be shifters or vampires or whatever from being allowed to cross between worlds. At least in the Parallel, their prey had a fighting chance."

I hold the door open for the others as we emerge into the afternoon sun. It's already past twelve and we have no idea how much time we have before Hammer contacts Jean-Paul or what's happening to Juliet while we roam around the city getting our shit together. It makes me want to rush right over to the botanical gardens and tunnel under the wall in my wolf form, but if it were that easy to get in, Jean-Paul wouldn't have held his fortress for this long. The steps we're taking to prepare are necessary, but still frustrating.

I suppose that might explain why I'm only listening to Layla and Catherine's conversation with half an ear until Layla says, "Yeah, dragon shifters aren't extinct, either. Most of them are trapped in a cursed alternate timeline somewhere, but every now and then they would replace ways into the Parallel. Gram had to take them down with a taser right away, to keep them from shifting into giant, fire-breathing monsters before the authorities could send them back into their own dimension. But the worst were these nuckelavee things."

I jerk my head her way. "The Scottish horse demons?"

Layla nods. "Yeah, from the Orkney Islands, I think. They're part horse, part man, and can shift to look like a really ugly human with oozy, bloody flesh for short amounts of time. They don't have skin like we have skin, I guess. How do you know about them? I thought they were pretty rare."

"When I was still a captive in the blood pits, one of the fight club managers had a nuckelavee on his roster." The hair on my arms stands on end despite the warm sun. "Getting paired with him was a death sentence. All he had to do was breathe on you and you started to rot from the inside."

Catherine shivers. "How horrible."

"Yeah," Layla says. "Lots of diseases humans think are viruses are actually nuckelavee attacks. That's why most of them were either killed or banished to the Parallel a couple hundred years ago. They kill off too many people at once. It's bad for vampires and fairies who feed on humans and bad for the rest of us who actually like humans and don't want them to die in an Ebola outbreak." She glances down at her phone. "The department store is about half a mile straight up this street and then left for a few blocks. Or we could pop into the next office building. Apparently, a lot of the buildings here are connected by underground passageways. Probably because of the snow." "Underground passageways," I murmur. "Is there one close to the compound?"

She checks, zooming in and out as we turn toward the office building. "No. Looks like it's not far, though. Just a short subway ride."

I reach for the glass door's handle. "That doesn't really help, unfortunately. I was hoping there would be a tunnel near the compound so I could be closer, but still out of sight."

"It doesn't help with that part," Catherine says, pausing in front of an underground city map just to the left of the entrance. "But it looks like a place it would be easy to get lost in."

"They say that exact thing on the website," Layla agrees. "There are over thirty-three kilometers of tunnels and passageways and not every one of them is on the map."

Catherine turns back to us with an arched brow. "Might be a good place to hide if we get Juliet out and have wolves on our trail. Or if we need to lay low for a little while until we can get to a car rental place or the bus station."

"Or the helicopter pad," Layla says. "Hermione said she'd send the chopper back for us if they weren't using it when we called, right?"

"I think so," Catherine says, her lips curving as she starts down a narrow flight of stairs into the passageway connecting this building to the rest of the underground city's network. "If Hermione said it, I'm sure you've got whatever it is locked in your adoring brain." "Hell yeah, I do." Layla nudges Catherine in the ribs. "And I've been thinking, thirty-five and nineteen aren't really that far apart. When I'm thirty, she'll be forty-six and that's not weird. That's just like...two people in the middle of their lives having a good time." Catherine wrinkles her nose. "Well, it's maybe a little weird, but if it's meant to be, it will be."

I don't know about that. You can't get much more "meant to be" than a fated mate, and I've come close to losing Juliet way too many times.

But you're not going to lose her. You're going to get her away from Jean-Paul and then do what you should have done from the start.

I'm going to kill Hammer, no matter what it takes. Juliet and I won't be able to start our lives until Hammer's is over. He's made that clear. And if it's too late to save Juliet, I'm going to make it slow. Slow and painful and torturous so he can get a tiny taste of what it feels like to suffer the way I'll suffer without her.

"Come on," I say, moving past the others and nearly jogging toward the escalator at the other end of the long, subterranean hallway. "We're running out of time. I can feel it."

"See, he's got the heebie-jeebies, too," Layla says, hurrying after me. "There's something messed up in the air around here. Like a storm blowing in, but creepier."

"Well, hopefully we'll be on our way back to Lost Moon with Juliet before we replace out what it is," Catherine says. "I'm okay if heebie-jeebie-giving things remain a mystery for now."

I am, too, but something in my gut tells me that isn't the hand we've drawn.

Whatever darkness is gathering right now, my guess is we'll be right in the thick of it when the shit hits the fan.