Alpha Bear Protector (Awakened Shifters Book 1)

by Keri Hudson

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Marcus crept around the quiet lower floor, looking up and around as a cluster of dull thumps grabbed his attention. It seemed to be coming from somewhere on the bottom floor, somewhere nearby.

  Marcus’ senses were tingling, an ancient desire to predate overwhelming him; hundreds of thousands of years of instinct and training and genetics handed down from one alpha to the next.

  Yes, the world seemed to be telling him, push on to your prize, do what it is that you are meant to do! Now is the time to rise, now is the result of so many years of toil; alone in the swamp, years of vitality sacrificed.

  But no more mere sacrifice! Now is the time for ascendancy, now is the time to grab the reins of the future, now is the time to create a new generation of shifters, with an ancient name and an ancient cause: to protect, to love, to be.

  Who would deserve less?

  But Marcus knew that he was already the subject of the judgment of others, already the subject of a hunt. In his human form, he’d be at a disadvantage both before and during the engagement. He could always shift, and he knew that, but there had to be time and an ambush wouldn’t give him that.

  Still, the lupes had a distinct odor and he wasn’t picking that up, normally evident even to human senses.

  Thunk, thump, thunk. The sound got louder, a few water splashes telling Marcus where the sound was coming from. He followed it to a small door off a hallway, and the door flung open before he could decide what to do next.

  Marcus pushed forward before the man could react, not all shifters as fast to react as Marcus was. He grabbed the man’s head, the ball of one palm pressed against the side of his chin, the other grabbing the back of his head by the hair. A swift, hard snap of the neck created a loud, muffled crack and the man went limp in Marcus’ grip. He turned on the little bathroom light, the better to strip the man and put on his clothes.

  Marcus stepped out of the bathroom and through the bottom floor of the house, careful to keep the creaking of the floorboards to a minimum. He rolled on his feet, shifting his weight, the house still and dark around him.

  The old staircase had been hurriedly repaired, the wood planks creaking as he took them, one at a time. I doubt this thing’ll support a shifter in a non-human form, he thought, every step taking him closer to his goal. But he also knew he was vulnerable to attack from above and below, there halfway up the stairs. But taking it too quickly could cause a collapse, costing him the advantage of surprise.

  Three more steps brought him to the original remaining steps, which Rachel Arnneux had used first.

  She’s a brave girl, Marcus reflected, have to get her and her… her baby… A chill ran up his spine to think of what she was carrying in her womb, and what she might be thinking of the same thing.

  He reached the top of the stairs, everything quiet around him. But there was a man sleeping in the chair in front of the last room at the end of the hall of one wing. Must be where either Sabrina, Rachel, or that Sheriff Le Croix are sleeping, Marcus reasoned, if he’s got the nerve to sleep here at all.

  Marcus took his first two steps down the hall slowly, his breathing steady, his footsteps measured and calm and cautious toward the man sleeping in the chair at the end of the hall. The rifle in his hand came into clearer view, rattling as he moved just a bit.

  Marcus took another step, then another, knowing at any minute one of those bedroom doors could fly open innocently and create instant mayhem.

  Sabrina would be the first to die, Marcus had to remind himself, stepping foot by foot toward the sleeping guard.

  Closer… closer…

  The sleeping guard snorted and snored and grunted, shifting around in his chair, wiping his nose. Marcus kept perfectly silent, still in the dark, before the man faded back to sleep and he could walk onward.

  Closer…

  The guard snorted and lurched up with a start, looking around the darkness. He caught sight of Marcus in the dead Cajun’s clothes. “Skeeter?”

  Marcus cleared his throat, trying to simulate a higher pitch in his voice. He whispered, “Shshshshsh! Back from the shitter. S’my watch.”

  “Now? Awright.”

  “Shshshshshsh!” And by then, Marcus was upon him. He pulled the hunting knife the dead guard had been carrying and jammed it into the belly of the guard in the chair. Marcus plastered his hand over the man’s mouth and pulled the knife back for another jab. He gave this one a hard twist once the blade was sufficiently buried. The seated guard flailed beneath him, but quickly went limp in his chair.

  Laying the guard down and moving to the door, Marcus twisted the knob and pushed the door open. He found Sabrina lying in the bed, lit by moonlight, hands tied to the bedframe. Marcus crept toward the bed, careful not to wake her with a start. He leaned over the bed and put his hand gently over her lips.

  Sabrina’s eyes opened, at first in fear. But they began to smile when she recognized Marcus’ face. He pulled the knife and cut her bonds with a single swipe each. He whispered, “You know which room Rachel’s in?”

  Sabrina nodded, “Right across the hall. The other men… the pack… are sleeping in the others.”

  “We’ll get her together and try to make a break for it.”

  “You think it’ll be that easy?”

  “No.”

  Marcus helped Sabrina out of her bed, rubbing her wrists and following him back out into the hallway. Marcus handed her the knife. “Go in alone and cut her free, I’ll stand guard.” Sabrina nodded, took the knife, and stepped into the room.

  Marcus waited by the door, muted voices hushed in the other room. The moment seemed to stretch out, Marcus imagining Sabrina fumbling with the knife and ropes. Marcus could foresee each of the other rooms’ doors opening, a dozen lupes jumping out to find him cornered at the end of the hall.

  C’mon, he thought, c’mon, let’s get on with it. Get you outta here so I can massacre these rats without having to—

  The door opened and Sabrina and Rachel peeked out. “Okay,” Sabrina whispered, “let’s go.”

  “What’s your rush?”

  They made their way quietly down the hall, the women following Marcus’ silent, cautious lead. They crept back down past one door and then the other, each one of them presenting the possibility of a shocking surprise that could set the powder keg they were all on exploding, perhaps wiping them all out in the process.

  Another door seemed to float by, Marcus’ vision completely acclimated to the darkness. The stairs came up ahead, the women breathing a little too loudly for his taste. But it seemed a moot point as they finally got to that first stair leading to the women’s safety and to the lupes’ destruction.

  “Hey,” a man’s voice snapped, “what the hell’re you doing?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Marcus transformed quickly into his ursine form. Behind him, Sabrina grabbed Rachel’s hand and dragged her down the stairs, exactly as Marcus would have wanted. That freed him up with more room to move and nobody to have to worry about.

  Marcus threw out a roar as the man shifted too, quickly taking his lupine form. He barked out a call to the others, and then charged down the hallway at Marcus.

  The wolf leapt, even as other doors opened on both sides of the staircase, shifters in either wolf or human form. Marcus roared and threw out a clawed paw to smash into the wolf’s face. The shifter yelped and snapped to the side. Marcus nearly threw him down to the first floor, but knowing that Sabrina and Rachel were there, it was no longer an option. So Marcus grabbed the shifter’s body and threw him back down the hall, straight into the path of another lupe as he ran out of the other corner bedroom.

  The two shifters tumbled in a clumsy ball of hind and forelegs, snapping jaws and confused, lupine brains. But they recovered quickly and readied for a second charge, two against one. Behind him, another shifter was charging, teeth flashing. The one behind was closer, so Marcus spun, grabbed the charging lupe, and used its own momentum against it and
the others, hurling the ambushing shifter into the two coming at him head-on. The three tumbled back, a more tangled mess than before.

  But another shifter jumped on Marcus from behind, jaw clamping down hard on the back of his neck. Pain shot through Marcus’ chest and head, brain pounding in his skull. He dug his claws into Marcus’ back, cutting into his thick hide, hair providing only so much protection.

  Marcus had to turn away from his other adversaries and deal with the one perched on his back. Marcus smashed the lupe into the walls of the hallway. But it held tight, digging those canines into his neck, piercing deeper and deeper through his thick hide, muscle and nerves getting closer and closer.

  Marcus reached up to claw at the lupe, but it avoided him on either side, shaking his head to tear at the flesh, pulling harder and harder, growling into Marcus’ ears.

  The other two piled onto Marcus, one clamping down on his fore and hind legs. They pulled and shook, teeth digging deeper into his arms than the other could manage into the back of his neck.

  Marcus reached down and bit into the back of the neck of the lupe clinging to his foreleg, digging in hard and deep. The shifter yelped and Marcus was able to pull him away and toss him aside. But he only slid a few feet away before turning and charging again. But being free of his grip allowed Marcus to roll over onto his back. Lacking room to escape, the shifter scrambled to climb out from between Marcus’ back and the hallway floor and wall. It yelped out as it disappeared under Marcus’ girth, a loud crack ending the lupe’s terrible protests.

  The others kept jumping at him, clamping onto his sides and legs and snapping at his face. Marcus scooped one up and smashed it hard into the wall and then right through, wood beams breaking and drywall crumbling as the shifter disappeared into the small room off the hallway.

  Marcus tossed another back down the hall and turned to the one on the bottom. A quick stab into his neck with Marcus’ long, black claws caused the lupe to scream and thrash, tongue lolling out of its gaping jaws. But another charged Marcus so hard and fast that it sent them both toppling over the edge.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Marcus was heavier and hit the floor first, floorboards splintering and cracking beneath him. The lupe bit at his face and neck, using the scramble and fall against Marcus for a quick and decisive victory. He bit into the front of Marcus’ neck, pulling and shaking and growling like the mad beast that he was.

  Marcus, on his back, pulled his hind legs back and clawed at the lupe, working his paws little by little under the lupe’s body. The shifter seemed to know it, and would have to sense those big black claws coming closer to its vulnerable underbelly. Each scratch brought Marcus closer and pushed the lupe further away, its jaws biting in with greater desperation. But with two more great swipes of Marcus’ hind claws, the lupe yowled and its organs spilled hot and wet onto Marcus’ hind legs.

  Marcus was quick to throw the remains of the lupe shifter off him to look around and survey the bottom floor. Men called to each other and ran, somewhere outside the plantation house. Marcus tried to zero in on Sabrina, or on Rachel, but no female voices struck his ear.

  And he didn't have much more time to try, as another lupe growled at him from across the big living room.

  He had a familiar look and scent, and Marcus recognized him immediately.

  Figgis.

  Figgis was big, and smart enough to have waited until his forces rose or fell to the occasion.

  They’d fallen.

  But Figgis seemed to know what Marcus knew—that these two would clash, and that only one would survive. Two more lupes stalked up behind Marcus, and he sensed it was their last stand.

  But not his own.

  Marcus responded to the multiple attack with a flurry of swipes and bites to repel that fiendish assault. One swipe knocked Figgis away, but he rebounded quickly and bit deep into Marcus’ hide. The others grabbed at Marcus’ neck and face, but he grabbed one and flipped him over onto his back and threw the other across the room.

  Marcus reached back and swatted at Figgis’ head and face until he let go of Marcus’ side. But it wasn’t long before he bit down again, this time at Marcus’ vulnerable anus, an instinctual point of attack for any lupine creature.

  Marcus screamed out in pain, but he was quick to react by sitting down fast, giving Figgis no time to let go or pull away.

  Crack!

  Marcus refocused immediately. There was a clamor going on outside the plantation house, and that was undoubtedly were Marcus would find Sabrina and Rachel, if they were still alive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Marcus stepped out to the front of the plantation house, where the last of the battle was unwinding. No lupes were in sight, several scraggly Cajuns still struggling with Sabrina and Rachel, both dressed in the blue robes they’d been wearing before.

  Sabrina herself was putting up a good fight, using skills she may have learned from her father, or elsewhere. There was much more to learn about that fascinating woman, if he could get her out of there alive.

  Rachel wasn’t faring as well, two Cajuns holding her by the arms, her frantic pulling and bucking unable to free her from their grip.

  “Let go of me,” Rachel whined.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Beansie said. “Le Croix said don’t hurt her!”

  Marcus reasoned that they were either shifters who needed their human hands to hold the women, and their human minds to keep from tearing them to shreds as they had the woman back in Houma.

  Or they were just humans, subservient to their lupine masters.

  Either way, Marcus thought, they die today.

  Marcus roared and charged into the fray. He knew Rachel would be unharmed, so his first target was the Cajun menacing Sabrina. The man turned as Marcus ran him down, screaming and turning his hunting knife to Marcus’ eyes. But Marcus turned his head and the man’s frenzied jabs glanced off his bloodied neck, ineffectual. Marcus clamped down on the man’s neck, and as he punched at Marcus’ big head and face, a single clamp of his jaws crushed the man’s windpipe. Marcus dropped the man to choke and gag, reaching up and out in his last feeble moments on the Earth.

  Knowing him to be no further threat, it was time to liberate Rachel from her captors as well.

  Marcus charged at them, hoping to chase them off, but the Cajuns turned, one holding a gun to Rachel’s head.

  He screamed, “Stay where you are, swamp god, or she’s dead, I swear it!” Marcus did slow, growling and keeping his eyes locked on both Cajuns, Rachel terrified and desperate between them.

  “You just stay back,” Beansie said, the gun shaking in his grip. “I’ll kill her, then yer little red wifey too.” Marcus huffed, head low, ears twitching. “G’w’on, nah, git! Git outta here!”

  Sabrina had stepped close enough to Beansie by that time to say, “Hey, stupid!”

  Beansie turned to his side, surprised, shifting the gun away from Rachel as intended. But Sabrina had already leaped out at him, grabbing his gun hand and holding it pointed upward. She gave him a sharp kick in the groin which caused him to pull the trigger, the bullet firing harmlessly upward as his body cramped forward.

  And this had given Marcus his opportunity to attack.

  It was swift and certain, Marcus’ roar coming before the swipe of his arm, sending the man toppling.

  Marcus looked over to see Sabrina standing with the gun, firing on Beansie to put him on the ground once and for all. Sabrina turned to Marcus, the god of the swamps and his human mate, surrounded by the scattered remains of their enemies.

  Rachel’s scream cut through the quiet. Marcus turned and, roaring, ran toward the source, Sabrina close behind.

  Marcus ran up to where Rachel was standing, surrounded by two big gators. Must be drawn to her scent, Marcus reasoned, carrying a shifter. But there was no more time to think about it. Sabrina seemed to know instinctively that there was little she could do but back away, unable to reach Rachel and pull her to safety.

&nbs
p; Marcus pounced on the first gator, the one closest to him. He clamped his jaws around the back of the gator’s head and dug his fangs in deep. The heavy reptile beneath him hissed and thrashed, but Marcus pushed down harder, the cracking of cartilage beneath his snout telling him the creature was as good as dead.

  The other gator charged at Rachel, who screamed and ran around Marcus’ side, past the dead gator and into the plantation property, her scream fading with her escape. Marcus grabbed the gator by the tail and lifted it up off the ground, jaw snapping and head thrashing, before Marcus hurled it twenty feet away or more. The gator smacked into a tree trunk, the tree cracking and falling down on top of the crippled creature.

  “Marcus!”

  Marcus turned to see Sabrina standing with Sheriff Le Croix behind her, his arm around her neck, a revolver’s barrel pressed right up against her forehead.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sheriff Le Croix stood behind Sabrina, his police standard-issue at her temple. “Now, you just take it easy, big fella. I got yer woman, and either of you makes one wrong move, she’s had it.” Marcus growled. “Yeah, you’ll kill me, or… maybe not. I can shift, fast as you. And these pups weren’t nothin’ compared to me.”

  Marcus could only stand his ground, head low, eyes fixed on his adversary. Sabrina remained strong, proud in his captivity, clearly not willing to give him the satisfaction of her cowering.

  My God, I love that woman!