Smokescreen Prime Transformers Novels & Stories

“Doesn’t matter. You can beat me up all you want—even kill me. That video is still going out. You’re just wasting your time.” Zeke let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t listen, do you?” He tossed Francis’s phone to Smoke, who caught it effortlessly. “This is Smoke, by the way. One of the best private investigators out there. And he’s ‘a bit’ of a hacker. He's going to permanently wipe the video from your phone as well as any other device you have transferred it to.” Francis's eyes narrowed. “That's not possible.” Smoke raised an eyebrow at him. “And I love proving idiots like you wrong,” he muttered, moving to the bed where he set his laptop down, connecting the phone to it wi

Queenie asked again. Deborah glanced at her with a frown then turned and drew a chair closer to the table. With the two sitting across each other, they could peer into each other's face. "Did I forget to mention it took them billions to run Transformers? The last dose took up tens of billions to acquire the materials and if it worked, it would be shown to the world and the company was bound to bring more profit. That was the plan. Unfortunately for them, your mother hid the three bottles she made and set fire to the warehouse at midnight when she was sure no one would be in it."

The prairie is every bit as dangerous as the sea, and here, sharks hide in every shadow. The scent of smoke hits my lungs, and I slow, lifting my head to take a deep breath. Something is on fire. I come to a stop and inhale a few more times. The scent of burning timber registers. This isn’t a grass fire. It smells like the forest after a lightning strike. But there is no forest near us. It has to be a structure fire. Another whiff brings the milder scent of burning leather–and then a fainter note of fur and flesh. “What is that?” Kan asks through the mind-link.

Fifty of the Smith’s Pack elite warriors poured out, weapons raised, with some shifting halfway into their wolf forms. "Alpha!" They all called out. Alfred, the butler and unexpected tactical commander, jumped out of the lead vehicle. He was flanked by Gamma Reid and the Pack Enforcer too, a massive wolf named Tor. They ran toward the smoking ruins, definitely expecting to find a corpse or at most, a severely injured person almost at the brink of death. They stopped dead at the edge of the green circle, shocked. The warriors lowered their guns instantly. Their jaws dropped. They stared at the grass, then at the frozen statues of the mercenaries, then at the scattered weapons, at the still ve