Alpha Shifter Protectors: Paranormal Romance Collection

by Keri Hudson

  They turned and walked down the aisle, friends clapping and throwing rice, the organist playing Mendelssohn’s Wedding March.

  The new Mr. and Mrs. Malloch held a party at the elegant restaurant Arcana, where local flavors and fine wines helped make the day even more special. Bazz and Phoebe held court in the bar, guests coming up in little groups, sometimes alone, to pay their respects and wish the happy couple the best.

  Freddie’s hair and beard were growing back fast, just a month or so after the explosion of the Armstrong headquarters in Nevada. He looked more dapper than Bazz had ever seen him, and he could feel he was seeing a new dawn of the young man, developments and evolutions to take him further in life than he’d ever have gone otherwise.

  He shook Bazz’s hand and gave his sister a long, loving hug.

  “Wow,” Freddie said nodding, “that was really… short. Awesome!” They all shared a little chuckle, and Freddie went on, “No, really, it was nice. I’m so happy for you two.” He turned his full attention to Bazz. “I hope, y’know, I wasn’t outta line about that kicking your ass stuff. It was a stressful time for everybody.”

  “Not a problem,” Bazz was happy to say.

  “Good, good,” Freddie said with a smile, but he dropped it quickly. “Seriously, though, that still goes. She’ll always be my sister.”

  “And I’ll always be grateful,” Phoebe said, giving her brother a kiss on his fleshy cheek.

  “Have to admit,” Freddie said, “this came together great for such a rush job. And you, Bazz, you really healed up fast.”

  Bazz shrugged, not wanting to elaborate. But Phoebe knew the truth; it was more than just his incredible ursine strength and a shifter’s natural abilities to heal. Her love had given him something to hold onto, her words and her pleas and her sobs giving Bazz the inspiration he needed to return from the precipice of death and walk once more among the living. It was just where he hoped to remain for a good, long time.

  Phoebe set her hand on her belly, just beginning to show her baby bump. She shrugged and rolled her eyes, no need to explain. What mattered to Bazz wasn’t the date on the certificate, though he was glad to raise his son knowing that his parents were married. It would be one traditional aspect of a life that would be part of a long and noble tradition, though not one any of their friends would ever share.

  Freddie said, “You sure you’re not coming back to ICU? Jason and Butch and the whole gang really want you back, in a lead role if you wanted.”

  Phoebe shook her head with a bittersweet smile. “I’m taking the fight to a different level.”

  Freddie nodded and gave her a wink. “I understand. It’s just… it was always us, y’know? After the folks died, I… I guess I was clinging to you a little bit. Maybe I still am.”

  “You don’t have to cling,” Phoebe said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Freddie smiled and sighed, glancing around. “And don’t worry, I won't tell a soul. But someday, who knows, maybe my little niece or nephew will wanna join the fight?”

  “We’ll see,” Bazz said. “In the meantime, it’s time for toys and songs and pleasant things. We’ve fought enough for a while—”

  “Enough for a lifetime,” Phoebe added.

  Bazz knew she meant it, and she was right. But he also knew that there would be other battles, other risks, other misadventures. But even their unique pairing was not exceptional in that. Life brought tragedy and also triumph, but Bazz and Phoebe had already faced more of that than most people could or would do.

  There would be more, but they would face those challenges together, and that would lead them to triumphs one after the next. They would be victories great and small, but Boulder Colorado would sleep peacefully under Bazz’s reign and that of his progeny. In a mysterious and dangerous world, most living closer to the edge than they’d ever know, Bazz and Phoebe were blessed to know they would always have each other, and that Boulder would always have them. Bazz had at last found his place among the other humans, almost as normal as any normalo but as strong as any shifter. He was the master of his domain, in his place of power, taking the mantle from his parents at long last, making good on their sacrifice and keeping their love for him alive in his love for his wife, his children, his community.

  The End

  Wolf’s Temptation

  CHAPTER ONE

  Caleb Kahr couldn’t sleep. His dreams had always been crystal clear, a symptom of his nature. And what he was seeing on this night had him breaking out in a cold sweat. The moon glowed over the pastoral foothills, chilly and dark. Tamarack and balsam poplar dotted the landscape. His brother Carl was in a heated battle, growls and barks punctuated by snapping jaws and swiping paws.

  The big ursine shifter, a brown grizzly about twice the size of a normal bear, reared up on its hind legs, almost twelve feet tall as it looked down at Carl. A lupine shifter, Carl’s wolf-like body lacked his enemy’s size and girth and sheer strength, not to mention the ability to rear up so high. The ursine could come crashing down on him with his full two thousand pounds.

  But four paws on the ground, leaner legs, and a lower center of gravity gave Carl or any lupine greater speed and agility, which he used to circle the ursine, barking and snapping. The big bear dropped down on his front paws, the ground shaking under Carl’s sensitive pads. Even Caleb could sense it in his dream state.

  Carl just barely escaped the bear’s pounce, but it turned quickly and charged Carl, swiping its massive front paw. Carl jumped over the ursine’s arm and onto his great, hairy back. He bit down hard, canines digging into that thick hide, jaws locking and head shaking to tear meat from the bone. Caleb could almost feel that tough, muscular mouthful, his own jaws clenching.

  The ursine tried to shake him off, roaring, unable to dislodge the aggressive lupine. The big bear threw himself into a roll to crush the smaller wolf shifter under his massive weight. But once again, Carl’s agility was his saving grace, able to release the bear’s hide and jump out of the way, dodging the bear’s tremendous body as it rolled toward him.

  Carl ducked to the side as the bear rolled past. He snapped at the bear’s face, fangs punching into the skull, the jowls, but missing the eyes.

  The bear recovered his footing and charged again, roaring as he threw swipe after swipe of that front paw, black claws reaching out from that grainy brown hair. The first swipe was a miss, as was the second, but the bear had Carl retreating, Caleb himself feeling his brother’s increasing worry, even in dream.

  Get out of there, Caleb thought, silently screaming as his head thrashed on the pillow. Pull back and hit him from behind! Jab and retreat, Carl, you know that! Jab and retreat!

  The bear landed a good shot, and Caleb could feel the power of the blow against the side of his own head even as his brother took the hit. Carl yelped, his head snapping to the side before his jaws clapped, trying to bite at the bear’s paw as it came around again.

  The second blow tore Carl’s ear from his head, pulling his cheek and jowl away from the bone. Carl yowled in pain and Caleb thrashed in his bed, muscles of his neck and shoulders locked.

  Get back, Carl, Caleb silently shouted, get back!

  A blow from the other side sent Carl’s brain smashing against the inside wall of his skull, Caleb’s ears ringing sympathetically. His paws and legs lost their agility, his retreat stopped by a hearty red oak behind him.

  But by that point, it didn’t matter.

  Another blow from the other side knocked Carl to the ground, body barely responsive to his attempts to escape. Caleb’s own arms jutted at his sides, legs kicking. But he could offer no aid, do nothing to help his brother.

  The ursine put one massive paw on Carl’s chest, pinning him on his back, leaning down just enough to shatter the ribs, crunching agony throughout his body. But the bear shifter was cruel, spiteful, and instead of ending his life, he allowed Carl to live, writhing in agony, legs kicking.

  The bear shifter lowered its great head and bit into C
arl’s underbelly, teeth piercing the softer hide and pulling to tear it open and reveal his innards, steaming in the cool night.

  Caleb bolted up in his bed, eyes wide, panting, cold sweat sheeting his body, a shiver passing through him. He looked around the dark of his West Philly bedroom, the moon bright over the city of brotherly love. He threw the damp sheets off and climbed out of bed, knowing he’d be out of town by the time the sun came up.

  Caleb took the first train to Boston, where he’d get another to Fall River, near to where Carl was working. There was no reason to call. Caleb’s night visions were either visions of things as they happened or premonitions of what was to come, so Carl was either dead or about to be in terrible danger of being killed. If Carl was still alive, Caleb was going to stand with him. If not, that meant there was a powerful ursine shifter in New England, and that it had killed Caleb’s brother. It had to be stopped.

  But even that wasn’t to be the end of it.

  Something was wrong, something in the air that had been troubling Caleb for years. His dreams were sometimes disturbing and sometimes disturbed, as if some force were acting to interrupt them. The ursine and the lupine shifters had been at war ever since any of them could remember, but there was something new that seemed to be disrupting the lay lines across the earth, the magnetic field that guided migrating birds and whales.

  And it was coming, Caleb felt certain of that. He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t know when or where, but it was coming. He could only go to his brother’s aid, leaving the greater mystery to wait.

  It wouldn’t wait long.

  Caleb looked ahead, strategizing his approach to a family he’d never met. They’ll need a new caretaker, Caleb knew, and I’m sure Carl left a good reputation behind. My name should be good with them.

  Caleb went from the train to the bus to Fall River, the quaint old New England town where Lizzie Borden allegedly killed her parents with an axe and was memorialized in rhyme for her trouble even if she was never convicted.

  Caleb took a Lyft out of Fall River to Armstrong House, twenty minutes into the countryside. As always, the Lyft driver seemed eager to make small talk, and as always, Caleb wasn’t interested.

  “So, you from Fall River, or just visiting?”

  “Philly,” Caleb said.

  “Oh, yeah? I never been, hear it’s great, though.” They drove on, Caleb saying nothing, his eyes fixed on the landscape around him. “I been to New York a couple times… wicked, man, wicked!” His use of the word almost amused Caleb as much as it troubled him.

  Caleb looked around at the bright blue spring sky over Massachusetts, speckled with cloud. Eastern hemlock and red maple were vibrant and green, house sparrows tweeting and taking flight.

  There was something wicked out there, Caleb felt certain. He’d been searching it out for years but it had evaded him, almost as if the answer knew that the question was out hunting for it. But Caleb couldn’t help but think that he was getting closer and closer with every turn of those rubber wheels, every tick of the second hand of the clock.

  A long, lonely road led through the white cedar and arborvitae on both sides, drawing them to the property itself. The huge Tudor mansion stood in the center of a plateau, weeping willows and decorative shrubbery in and around the big circular driveway in front of what looked to be a three-story home. Foothills rolled behind the house, visible across the great expanses on each side of the house before the thick woods resumed.

  The car pulled up and stopped and Caleb stepped out. After a few parting pleasantries, the car drove away and Caleb turned to look up at the house. It stood like a monolith, a mausoleum. A face looked down on him from a second-floor window, a pretty young woman with red hair. But she pulled away from the window when she caught Caleb’s eye.

  Caleb rang the bell, chimes echoing through the house as he waited in front of the big, walnut front doors. A long minute stretched out, and then another. Caleb considered ringing again, but he knew at least one person in that house knew he was there. If there was some delay, there was a reason for it. And what that could be triggered Caleb’s instincts for danger, hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The door opened to reveal a small woman, looking to Caleb to be about sixty, round and stooped, her expression an aging mask of surprise as she looked at him closer. “Are you… can I help you?”

  “Caleb Kahr, I… my brother works here, I believe?”

  Her old brows arched up into her forehead, wrinkling it even further. “Oh, yes, of course. Come in, please.” She backed up and Caleb stepped into the house. The big house opened up around him; portraits of long-dead men and women hung on the walls, staring down in morbid judgment. Polished oak Victorian furnishings and brass lighting fixtures made Caleb feel as if he were stepping into another century.

  “I’m Edith,” she said with a gentle smile, “Edith Mott, housekeeper here at Armstrong House.”

  “I see,” Caleb said with a polite smile. “I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Mott.” He looked around the big, quiet house. “You must have quite a bit on your plate.”

  Edith nodded, joining him at looking around the big three-story house. “It keeps me busy.”

  “My brother… he’s the groundskeeper here.”

  “Yes, your brother… um, please, sit down.” Caleb already knew the facts of the matter; he’d seen them unfold as they’d happened, he’d prepared himself that it was very likely to be so. But he’d held out hope that it had only been a premonition, hope that he could already feel draining away.

  They stepped into a parlor in the front of the mansion and took a seat on a small loveseat. “Your brother… he… he had a terrible accident; just last night, in fact.”

  Caleb nodded. “I was afraid I’d be too late. It was a… a mauling, wasn’t it?” Edith nodded, slouching in her sadness. “A bear of some kind?”

  “That’s what the police said. It… it didn’t take much guesswork, I don’t think. I… I’m so sorry… Caleb, was it?”

  Caleb nodded. “Anybody else see this bear?”

  Edith shook her head. “But there are a lot of woods in this area, Lord knows what’s prowling around out there.” Caleb turned to glance at a window and beyond, the dense woods seeming to call to him, to threaten him, to challenge him. “Odd that you should come today,” she added.

  Caleb didn’t want to have to explain the power of his dreams, lest it make him look like a lunatic. Showing up out of nowhere the day after his brother’s death was suspicious enough, he could already tell by her expression.

  “He mentioned something to me about a danger in the woods,” Caleb said, “called me in to help. Must be what he meant.”

  Old Edith nodded, seeming to give it some thought. “We… we happen to need a groundskeeper.” She looked him over; tall and strong, black hair and blue eyes, Caleb knew he looked much like his brother. “And I… I’d feel a lot safer with that… that thing out there, if we had a strong, manly presence in the house … at least until we can call Master Armstrong and make other arrangements. He usually leaves that to me.”

  Caleb smiled. “I intend to catch and kill that thing,” he said. “I don’t want any trouble about that.”

  Edith gave him a little wink and a smile. “I won’t breathe a word of it.” Edith looked up, and Caleb followed her line of sight to see a little boy of about five years. He looked down at Caleb and Edith, a solemn expression on his wide-eyed face. A young woman walked up behind him from down the hall. She stood behind the boy, arms over his shoulders, hands on his chest to pull him close.

  Edith said, “Abigail, Daniel, I have somebody I want you to meet.” Little Daniel turned to look up at Abigail, who offered him a nod before taking his hand and leading him down the stairs. He was dressed as any boy might be: striped shirt with a white color, blue jeans, and sneakers. She wore a lovely peasant blouse and a pleated skirt which fit well on her lithe curves.

  They reached the bottom of th
e stairs and Edith and Caleb stood. Edith said, “Caleb Kahr, this is Master Daniel Armstrong and his tutor, Abigail Sanderson.”

  Abigail offered him a demure smile and a little curtsy, Caleb kneeling to shake the boy’s hand. “Thank you for having me in your home, Daniel.”

  But the boy just threw his arms around Abigail’s legs, burying his face in the side of her thigh. Abigail said to Caleb, “I’m sorry, he’s just… your name is Kahr?”

  “I’m your former caretaker’s brother.”

  “Oh, of course,” Abigail said, looking down at Daniel to add, “you see? He’s not a ghost!”

  Caleb and Edith shared a little chuckle. Caleb said, “Not yet, anyway.”

  Abigail said, “I… I guess you’re here… for his body?”

  “Caleb is going to be staying on as our new groundskeeper,” Edith said.

  Abigail seemed to brighten up at the mere mention of the notion. “Is that so?”

  “For the time being, at least,” Caleb added. “May I ask, where is the master of the house?” He offered Daniel a little smile. “Present company excluded.”

  Edith said, “Master Armstrong is in Europe on business. He won’t be back until the end of the summer, I shouldn’t think.”

  Caleb thought things out, the pieces of the sad puzzle coming together. “And… Mrs. Armstrong?” Edith shook her head and that was all the answer he needed, both of them eager to be gentle around the little boy.

  Edith said, “I should take you around, show you your brother’s… your quarters.”

  Caleb nodded and let the old woman lead him out of the room. He gave Abigail a nod and a smile and said, “If you’ll excuse us?”