He reached for her hand, squeezed it with his fingers, then let them go. “It’s okay, Annette.”
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, but he sliced his hand through the air at hip-height. He knew she saw it because she fell silent, understanding his prompt even though he could sense she didn’t appreciate his means of conveying such a message.
“The time has come, Jackson,” he snarled.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Jackson truly was perplexed by his statement. Enough so, Mars blinked. He’d known the guy was stupid, but that stupid? “I’m talking about you, not being the right leader for The Nomads.”
“Oh?” he sneered. “And you are?”
“No, I’m not, but I’ll do a damned sight better job than you.” When Jackson flexed his jaw, Mars bit off, “You’re running the MC into the ground. With your stupid schemes, and poor management, we’re in the red for the first time in decades, all because you’re fucking shit at what you do. You brought danger onto our home turf. You invited the enemy to our gates. Because of your idiocy, my mate was injured. She almost died. Those are three reasons why I’m justified for doing what I’m about to do.”
Jackson snarled at him. “And what might that be, cub?”
Mars let the insult roll off him. And his stare was like ice as he hissed, “I challenge you, Jackson, Clan Leader of The Nomads, for the right to hold this clan as my own.”
The Prez bowed his head, then spat, “I accept your challenge, Mars, but know this. The end will only come when one of us is dead.”
Mars’s voice was like silk as he whispered, “I hope you’ve arranged your funeral. Cos I’m sure as shit not the one dying today…”
Chapter Ten
Annette watched, guts twisting, as Mars climbed off the bed and stalked over to Jackson. The Prez wasn’t what she’d imagined at all. He was tall, his height imposing, even, especially in comparison to her, but he was skinny. Weedy, in fact. He looked like a good wind would knock him off his bike, which was utterly surreal as she'd never have figured a guy like him would be the leader of a bunch of huge ass bears.
Because, in comparison to Kiko and all the other bear shifters she’d seen over the last two days, mostly just in passing granted, Jackson was tiny. The others were like Mars: enormous. Bulging muscles, tall and stocky with a weight that made her wonder how their bikes weren’t squashed underneath them.
Saying that, she hadn’t had a problem with Mars lying on top of her… so he wasn’t so monstrously large, but, she reasoned, he’d always made sure to temper his weight. If he’d rested between her thighs, she knew he’d lifted himself off her a little, ensuring she never took the full brunt of him.
Now, when he was bristling, she couldn’t deny he looked even bigger. And he was butt naked, so it wasn’t like Annette couldn’t see every bit of him. Nothing wasn’t on display here, and though it was a rather nice view, she had to admit, it peeved her that people could see what was hers.
She tried to imagine what would happen if she stood up, bare assed, with the door open—two ton of pissed off bear would probably pop up, that’s what.
Still, she knew the shifters had to be more at ease with their nudity than humans. To shift, they undoubtedly had to stand outside if they wanted any furniture in their houses, because eight feet tall bears weren’t renowned for being anything other than clumsy, and if they didn’t want to ruin their clothes, they probably had to strip off too. In front of both sexes.
She’d seen that bitch in the hall, watching Jackson and Mars face off. She was glad the other woman had stalked off, blanching at the glower Mars had shone her way, because Annette wasn’t altogether certain she’d be able to control herself. The idea of another woman seeing what was hers made her wish she could turn into a fucking bear too.
Her jealousy had made it so she’d lost track of the argument between Prez and VP. But, by the looks of it, neither were choosing diplomacy. After Mars’ throwdown, Jackson was bristling just as badly, and the two were snarling in each other’s faces.
Men.
She’d been around them enough to know they could be lunatics when shit like this went down, so she knew to be cautious. Truth was, she didn’t feel like impugning her mate’s honor by suggesting he wouldn’t win a challenge—especially against Jackson, who really didn’t look like he’d last long in a fight with Mars—but at the same time, she’d have preferred not to risk it at all. Why tempt fate? She’d only just found Mars; the last thing she wanted was to lose him over something that didn’t even matter at all.
Okay, so she guessed it mattered to The Nomads, which meant it had to start mattering to her… Shit, she really needed to download some MC romances onto her Kindle. They’d never been her genre of choice when it came to a smutty read on a Friday night. Over in Iraq, when things had gone to shit, and she’d been dumped in a hospital bed to heal, Annette had found solace in romance novels. Where before she’d scorned them, the happily ever afters had helped her get through the extensive period of time she’d been stuck on a mattress.
Shifter books had been her first choice, then she’d discovered Julie Garwood’s historicals and those had been love at first sight.
Really, if fate were in any way kind, she’d have loved MC reads, and she’d have known all the terminology without looking like a dunce.
Snorting at the notion an MC romance could be her encyclopedia instead of the few Sons of Anarchy episodes she’d watched, she wrapped the blanket around her waist, hiding her breasts, and then using the shrouds of fabric to cover her, got to her feet to try to adjudicate the snarling match going on at the foot of her bed. Her snort had garnered Mars’s attention, and the fact he was looking at her, caught Jackson’s eye.
When he saw what she was wearing, Mars crossed the room and stood in front of her. She sighed at the territorial act, and poked him in the butt. When he just grunted, she did it again. Not to make him grunt, but simply because his ass was so fine and so padded with muscle she wanted to squish it all the harder.
Because he wouldn’t budge, she stood on tiptoe and peered at Jackson over her mate’s shoulder. When she realized she was letting Mars get away with being possessive, she almost blinked at her own behavior.
Had any other guy tried to do that, to act as a human shield or to get in her way at all, she’d have shown them the door immediately. But with Mars, it was expected. Hell, if he hadn’t done it, she knew she’d have been more pissed. After all, she was his, wasn’t she? Why the fuck wasn’t he protecting what was his?
Shaking her head at the way her mind was twisting things and in such a short space of time thanks to this man’s presence in her world, she blurted out, “Your actions nearly got me killed, Jackson.”
She wasn’t sure why they were the first words to fall from her lips, especially when they made Mars tense all the more, but somehow, they fit. And when the Prez ducked his head, shame turning the tips of his ears pink, she kind of realized that remark had been the way to go.
“It was a mistake,” he retorted, his voice a whine, a tone that belonged in no leader’s repertoire. Ever.
“Mistakes can be costly, I know, but this is more like an epic cock up. Mars tells me I’m the first mate to be brought into the MC’s folds…” When he nodded, she pressed home the advantage, “Which means everyone knows that if they find their mate, the clubhouse isn’t safe if you’re Prez.”
From bright pink to blanching, Jackson firmed his lips as he glared at Mars. “Control your mate, Mars.”
Mars shook his head. “She makes sense, and you know it.”
Jackson sneered at her. “So, what?”
“What?” She gawked at him, then smirked at Mars. “Even if you manage to win the challenge, which I doubt, your rule is already undermined. Just saying.”
Mars’s hand snaked out to stroke over her butt, and the appreciative caress wasn’t lost on her. “I think it’s time we take this outside.”
“
We’d already be out there if it weren’t for your mate’s drivel.”
A snarl roared through the room and Mars herded the Prez forward until Jackson had no choice but to back up, to retreat into the hall. Annette watched as he gulped then turned on his heel and started to stride down the corridor. His apparent disregard for the fact he’d shown his enemy his back was spoiled by how many times he looked around to see if Mars was still stalking him.
The small growls escaping her mate seemed to gather a lot of the MC’s members attention. They all started trailing behind like Mars was the Pied Piper or something. Hell, it didn’t even seem out of place that Mars was buck naked and that she wore nothing but a bed sheet.
Everyone’s attention was on the snarls and growls, as well as the fact the Prez was heading outside. When Annette squinted up at the sun, she took a quick look around and saw they were at the back of the property. Here, the walls were high; close to twenty feet. On the top, glinting in the harsh rays of the sun, were shattered shards of glass as well as reels of barbed wire.
The actual yard looked like it belonged in a prison. What with the horrendous height of the wall, combined with the extra security on top, and then, the yard itself: an expanse of grass. Nothing more, nothing less.
The doors that led from the clubhouse headed out onto a tiled patio. At one end, there was a large BBQ pit and a couple dozen seats that had seen better days. But the terrace overlooked the grass, and when she started to step onto the lawn, a hand tugged her back onto the tiled floor.
About to tear the bastard a new one for making her stop, she looked up and saw Kiko was staring at the leaders of The Nomads. Because it was Kiko, and because he’d helped advise her yesterday, she didn’t snarl at him even though she wanted to. Instead, she said, in as calm a tone as she was able, “Let me go.”
“No. The grass is for challengers. That’s it.” His gaze wasn’t on her but on Mars and Jackson, the latter of whom was now as naked as Mars. His clothes were in a tight pool beside the wall, his boots shucked off and discarded close by. “You can’t go on there. It’s bad luck.”
“Bad luck for whom?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never questioned it. It’s just something you don’t do.”
She eyed him a second then gritted out, “That’s the biggest spouting of BS I’ve ever heard.”
“Stick around, kid, cos there’s plenty more where that came from.” Mundo’s irreverence had her gawking at him. Not only because he wasn’t exactly taking this seriously, but also because it felt like a lifetime since she’d seen him last and not a mere passing of days. “What happened?” he asked, his tone sobering as though he’d sensed her silent reprimand.
“Jackson stormed into our new quarters this morning. Mars didn’t appreciate it.”
Mundo hissed. “Jackson’s a jack ass. He must have been itching for a fight, because the last thing you do is storm into a newly-mated shifter’s quarters. Especially first thing in a morning when said mate is likely to be undressed.”
Kiko snorted. “More like when said mate has just healed from being shot thanks to said leader’s incompetence.”
Mundo held out his knuckles and Kiko knocked his into them. Shaking her head at the brotherly camaraderie, Annette whispered, “Mars will win, won’t he?”
It was Mundo’s turn to snort. “Annette, seriously. Look at the two of them.”
There was no comparison between the two men’s size. From that alone, it seemed a dead cert that Mars would win, but there was a reason Jackson was Prez in the first place. He must have done something to get to the top of the tree regardless of his smaller stature.
Almost like Kiko had sensed her concerns, he told her, “Our old Prez died. There wasn’t a challenge for a new leader. And Jackson was high up in the ranks because of his daddy. Higgins was our Prez for close to twenty years before he died of some serious old age.”
“Nepotism,” Annette gritted out.
Mundo shrugged. “Yeah. It happens. Even in a clan where the strongest usually are at the top of the food chain. I don’t understand why Jackson would try to rile Mars into fighting. It makes no sense. We all know there’s no way he can be beat.”
“He has no choice, does he? Not after that farce the other day. Annette nearly died, Mundo. A mate nearly died on club territory… that’s heavy shit. And that Mars had to make a blood sacrifice, well, that’s turned shit even more against Jackson.”
Mundo seemed to contemplate that. “Talk’s been spreading, I won’t lie.”
“Course it has. We all want to find our mates. What the fuck do we do with them if they’re not safe here? Jackson’s compromised our security.”
“And we don’t even know what the fuck he did to make the traffickers pissed at us.”
Curious, because Mars and Jackson were doing nothing more than walking around in a wide circle, sizing each other up, Annette asked, “It was definitely the traffickers?”
“It had to be.” Kiko moved his head a little, ducking it on his shoulders, a second before Mars leaped forward with an ear-splitting roar. What he’d sensed, Annette didn’t know because she hadn’t seen that Mars was about to make a move. In response, Kiko let out a roar of his own, and she didn’t have a clue how, but Annette knew that it was loaded with approval.
In fact, the entire crowd seemed to roar with approval as Mars’s attack hit true and found its right and proper target. Annette was no stranger to battles. She’d been to far too many war zones, and had seen too much death in her short life. But even she had to wince with the strength Mars imbued into each punch. His kicks about spun Jackson on a pivoted heel, and the few times Mars managed to aim an elbow into Jackson’s face, blood spurted from the Prez’s nose with abandon.
Huddling into the blanket that was her only covering, she watched on. Partly in awe, partly in disapproval. Something was going on here, some undercurrent. One, she’d expected them to shift. Two, Mars was baiting Jackson, and when that bait wasn’t snatched, he was relishing each hit he managed to send the other man’s way.
The Prez seemed to take one too many elbows to the nose because a growl rumbled along the airwaves and suddenly, where there'd been a rangy, lean and tall man, there was a huge bear. A grizzly like Mars.
Beside the bear, Mars looked small. Jackson was nearer nine feet in this form, and his weight was substantial. It was like seeing Jack beside the giant, and Annette felt fear flood her for the first time… why hadn’t Mars shifted yet?
She gulped back her fright, until Kiko mumbled, “Shift, dammit. Fucking shift.”
Then, Mundo compounded her terror by turning to her and asking, “Why isn’t he shifting?”
Eyes flaring wide, she shook her head. “I don’t know. You tell me! What the hell’s going on?”
The man and bear did that whole ‘circling’ thing again. Around and around and around they went until Annette felt sure they were scoring their footprints into the earth beneath them, then Jackson slashed out a huge paw, and because in this form his reach went so much further, Mars didn’t jump back quickly enough and his stomach was scored with those enormous razor-sharp claws.
A whimper escaped her as blood began to pour from the rivets torn into his belly. It seemed to gush out, spurting at a pace that had terror flooding her. But Mars didn’t seem overly concerned, neither did the men at her side or back.
Mars snapped his teeth at Jackson, a move which had the entire crowd chuckling, apart from Annette that is. She just stood there, both terrified and irritated that Mars wasn’t taking this seriously. Then, he spared her a glance, and she saw his bravado for what it was—showmanship. Something wasn’t right. In fact, everything was wrong.
She gulped in the face of it, knowing that in that one quick glance, he was trying to tell her something. Trying to make her do something…
MARS (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 1) Page 8
