by Keri Hudson
“We’ll start you off slow,” the sheriff said. “I’ve got one job in mind yer particularly suitable for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
They brought Sabrina out of her cell room. She was stripped to her underwear but they gave her a blue robe, which helped her retain her dignity despite the degradation. Her hands were tied behind her back, ankles loose so she could remain mobile. But Marcus could see the red rope marks around her ankles. Much worse than that was the shotgun, its deadly barrel only inches from her head. The snickering Beansie held the gun, rotting teeth peeking through his thin, grinning lips.
Marcus was compliant, stepping out of the cage, always keeping a good distance from Sabrina and Beansie or the other men.
They walked him and Sabrina around the side of the plantation, where Sheriff Le Croix was standing. “Good morning, Le dieu,” he said snidely, adding, “Miss Parks, looking well.”
“Go to hell,” Sabrina answered, despite the gun at the back of her head, capable of making her skull vanish in a cloud of blood, brain, and bone.
Sheriff Le Croix turned his attention back to Marcus. “Now, then,” the sheriff said, leading them all a bit further toward the outskirts of the property, “as you probably know, Mr. Reilly… I’ll just call you Marcus, shall I?”
Marcus huffed in a gruff, wordless rebuke.
“Very good,” the sheriff went on. “So as you know, Marcus, there’s been a rising tension between us shifters and various alpha predators—bears in some places, Orcas are gobbling us up on both coasts… and here, gators; and I mean the big ones too.”
Marcus followed the sheriff, fighting the urge to kill him outright. But he knew what the little human wanted of him, and Marcus knew he’d have time to get to the alpha male of that hellish plantation.
“And now,” the sheriff went on, “in this time of our ascendency, they’re, well, particularly agitated. And here, where we’re breeding? They’s crowdin’ ‘round like flies!”
Marcus could smell them nearby, glancing around at the clutches of hickory and black oak, the property sloping down to low wetlands not readily seen from the plantation house. The first big gator seemed to be waiting for him, twenty feet long, jaw opening and white throat hissing as Marcus and the others approached over a low slope.
The sheriff asked, “See what I mean?” There was no need for an answer. “Nah I done lost too many good soldiers to these damned things. Hell, they took one o’ my girls just a few days back, I tell you that? Pretty thing, too. Katey, or… Carli? Anyway, she had some rabbit in’er blood an’ tried to make a run. Y’all can see how good that turns out! Poor girl’s screams, I can still hear ‘em in my sleep.”
Marcus glanced at Sabrina, her sad face turning toward the ground.
“But you, bigger and admittedly stronger, you can handle these dinosaur bastards.” Sheriff Le Croix huffed out an amused chuckle. “Hell, if you can keep us at bay, you can do the same with them!”
The gator snapped its jaws, rising to its stumpy legs, ready to charge. The sheriff, Sabrina, and Beansie and the others stepped back, all apparently aware of how fast and deadly a creature even of that size could be.
The sheriff said, “We’ll be watching from back there. You make a break for it, or do anything other than come back like a good little boy, the pink wonder here gets two in the head.” Sabrina gasped a little bit, but stifled it quickly. Sheriff Le Croix went on, “Don’t make it back, she gets one up the other end… way up!” Beansie and the other guards chuckled as they led Sabrina back, Sheriff Le Croix’s eyes on Marcus.
Marcus turned to size up his adversary. The gator was a female, agitated, riled up by a hatred of shifters. But she seemed to know what she was up against. She and her fellow big reptiles were expecting smaller lupine shifters, easier kills. The big female hissed out again, shaking her head as she seemed to hope to forestall Marcus’ attack.
She was also calling others, perhaps dozens of her brothers and sisters to join the fight and bring down the big ursine shifter once and for all. He could already sense their approach, coming from each side. There was no more time to wait.
Marcus roared and charged the big female, and she came at him head-on. She came with incredible speed, her body waggling, tail flapping, long snout open and toothy and ready to clamp down tight.
Marcus sidestepped the gator’s charge and snap, then turned to meet her from the side. He took a swipe at her underbelly, but the big gator turned and snapped, nearly catching his foreleg in her death grip.
She’s big, he knew, and she has to die before the others get here.
Hhhhsssssssss! Another gator charged from the side, sooner than he thought just as the female gator bit down on his foreleg in the moment of his distraction. Marcus wailed out an echoing roar. He raised his foreleg, standing up and twisting his massive body to throw the female gator from his arm, the big reptile twirling a bit as it fell awkwardly to the side to land in the water, hissing and turning for another attack.
Marcus turned to the gator clinging to his left hind leg, shaking and trying to pull Marcus off his footing. Instead Marcus turned and stabbed his long claws into the back of the gator’s head, hitting that soft spot that severed the brain from the rest of the creature, delivering a death blow.
The big female charged, heated with ancient anger and an urgency that they clearly did not truly understand. She bit into his shoulder, very near to his neck, pulling at his thick hide. Another gator bit him under the other arm, pulling hard to strip the muscle from the bone.
Marcus picked up the big female clamped onto his shoulder and rose to his hind legs. Her great body was a massive weight on him, nearly crushing his spine until he found the proper balance. The big gator’s tail flapped wildly, and she was too heavy to hold.
But smashing her down was both easier and much more satisfying.
Crack!
The gator hit a stone under the water and went limp.
Marcus waited, surveying the area as the few remaining gators scrambled away, their hisses dying in the distance. Marcus stepped away from the battle, the dead gators strewn out behind him. He walked back toward the house, Sheriff Le Croix, Sabrina, Beansie, and the others looking on in a tense silence.
“Well done, Marcus,” the sheriff said. “I think this just may work out after all.”
But all Marcus could do was let out a great roar, every impulse in him screaming out for just one more kill. But a glance at Sabrina, tied and helpless at the end of a shot gun, curtailed him. He’d have to wait, beyond every ursine impulse to destroy; he’d have to draw on his human instinct toward diplomacy, discretion.
But how long he’d have to wait remained to be seen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They’d given Marcus a robe, and he was still wearing it over his naked, human form once he was back in the cage. The bars weren’t electrified; as a human, he couldn’t break through the bars, and one zap from that charge could kill him.
And that was not what Sheriff Le Croix clearly had in mind.
“How’d y’feel?”
Marcus hurt from the battle with the gators. They’d been incredibly strong, clearly driven by some natural imperative. There was no denying that the tide of battle was rising, and it would soon sweep up the shifters and the alpha male predators in an all-or-nothing contest.
“Swell,” Marcus answered, and Le Croix chuckled.
“You gave ‘em one helluva fight, I gotta say. And you deserve one helluva rest. But fer right now, I just gotta ask… that felt good, didn’t it? Whuppin’ them gators like that? What other animal could do that? No natural-born grizzly, ‘ats fer sure! An’ you know, like I do, that we ain’t monsters, we’re natural as any hummingbird, goddamnit! They call us monsters? We ain’t monsters! Them gators, they’re the monsters! Soulless, ugly, big mean bastards. They snatch our pups, I tell you that?”
“Something like it.”
“Well, we’re natural as any hummingbird, like I said. That mea
ns God made you, same as he made us! And why would God make a big son’ bitch like you fer? To whoop on them gators, that’s what! And, well, others…”
“I won’t be your butcher.”
Sheriff Le Croix seemed to give that some thought, scratching his head.
“I know, you… you don’t like me, don’t like my kind—”
“I don’t like what you intend to do,” Marcus said. “I don’t like your… your unbridled ambition.”
“And I resent your sloth! But… we’re different men, aren’t we?” He waited in an extended silence before turning his head and shouting, “Bring her in!”
The door of the windowless room opened. Sabrina entered, unbound and wearing a similar blue robe to the one they’d given Marcus. Marcus perked right up to see Sabrina, easy enough to ignore Beansie once more guarding her with a shot gun.
Sabrina seemed worried as soon as she laid eyes on him, though the robe was covering his cuts and bruises.
Sheriff Le Croix said, “I’m a man of my word, Marcus. You done good, an’ here’s your reward. Two hours, whole room to yourself. Any tricks, coming in our going out… of the cage, I mean.” He chuckled with his crass little joke. “Any tricks, she dies first.”
Marcus nodded and stood a respectful distance away from the bars as another guard opened the cage door. Beansie led her to the open cage door and the other grabbed her arm and threw her in before slamming the door shut and locking it again.
"Two hours.” Sheriff Le Croix led his men out of the room, but turned before closing the door. “This privacy is just an illusion; somebody will be watching you at all times. Who knows? Maybe she likes that!” He chuckled and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Latches clicked as the door locked shut from the outside.
Marcus and Sabrina fell into each other’s arms. “Oh, Marcus!”
“Sabrina! Are you okay? Have they hurt you at all?”
“No, I’m… I’m all right. Glad to be out of those ropes for a while, I can tell you that.”
Marcus looked around the cage. “It’s not much better being stuck in here.”
Sabrina looked around too, hands clutching his arms. “How are we ever going to get outta here?”
“We’ll find a way. How’s Rachel?”
Sabrina gave it some sad reflection and shrugged. “We were separated, I haven’t seen her. But that dick sheriff says she’s fine, safe, comfortable.”
“Probably is,” Marcus said. “Only stands to reason that she be healthy before the birthing. But we have to know where she is so we can make sure to take her with us.” After a pause, Marcus went on, “I’m sorry about your friend, Kathy.”
“Maybe… maybe it was another girl?” Marcus said nothing, and Sabrina shrugged and fell deeper into his embrace.
Sabrina pulled away and looked off, then straight into Marcus’ eyes. “Marcus, I... I’m so sorry for... for getting you into all this. I’m sure your life was fine before I crashed into it.”
Marcus put a comforting hand on Sabrina’s arm. “No, Sabrina, no. I… I needed to know. How else would I ever have found out what was going on?”
“You’d have found some way, the natural way, I’m sure.”
“Sabrina, you and me together, that’s the natural way.”
“Y-y-you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Marcus looked around the cage, and the plantation house surrounding it. “I wasn’t living out there in the bayou, I was… I was surviving. But when I met you, I realized how lonely I was, how much I’d been missing.”
Sabrina huffed out an amused little smile. “Married to your work, were you?”
“You know what they say, all work and no play…” They shared a little kiss, tender and slow, lips lingering against one another.
Marcus looked deep into those beautiful green eyes. “I only wish I’d been able to keep you out of all this; a motel further away, or put you on a plane to California.”
“Marcus, my place is here, in Louisiana, with you, by your side. I… I tried to tell you that earlier, inviting you to my apartment. But the truth is, I never only wanted you to stay for just a few days. I…” She coughed up an awkward chuckle. “Never mind.”
“No, please,” Marcus said warmly, “I want you to know that you can tell me anything. I won’t love you any less.”
“Love… me?”
Marcus nodded with a little smile. “Yes, Sabrina Parks, I love you. The way I’ve never loved another woman, the way I’ll never love another.”
“Oh,” Sabrina began to gush, “and I love you, Marcus Reilly, so much.” She pressed her palms against his cheeks and kissed him, long and hard, tongues darting together. “So much,” she repeated. They kissed a while longer, winding up gazing into each other’s eyes, foreheads pressed together.
Marcus finally asked, “So, what were you going to tell me?”
“Oh, um… well, I… I wasn’t fired from my job. I… I quit.”
One brow rose on Marcus’ forehead. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, I… I thought it might make you stay… a while.” She giggled, embarrassed, but it didn’t last. She even covered her face from a giddy shame, but he removed her hand, put his hand under her chin, and raised her face to his.
“I would have stayed anyway.”
A little tear crawled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb and she said, “I know.”
They embraced, arms wrapping around one another, pulling the other closer, tighter. Something caught Marcus’ attention, something urgent, though he said nothing of it and indicated even less. He knew they were being watched, lewd eyes hoping for a lurid sex show. But neither Marcus nor Sabrina was inclined to give anybody that.
And Marcus had other things on his mind anyway.
Escape.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Marcus waited for the place to quiet. There were a few guards patrolling the outside of the house, but the electricity was doing its job and Marcus did not apparently need to be guarded overnight.
Marcus had noticed a small crack in the concrete floor of the cell, and though he’d revealed nothing of it, it had inspired his plan of escape. Moving cautiously and quietly, Marcus pushed his big, black paws into the concrete. He leaned down, pushing with his great strength into the concrete, finally creating a great, deep, wide crack in the cage’s foundation. Marcus dug deeper and pulled out a chunk of concrete. It was reinforced with iron bars, but they weren’t electrocuted. After a few minutes, he’d pulled out hunks of concrete and then dug in to pull out and break several wide swaths of rebar.
But Marcus was big and clearing enough space to accommodate him was one thing; then he had to start digging. As silent as he could be, Marcus pushed through the concrete base to the soft earth beneath, and started scooping great paws full of dirt behind him, quickly creating a wide crater that was fast becoming a tunnel.
Marcus dug faster, harder, darkness overtaking him as he sank into the ground. He tried to imagine what the house’s foundation would be like.
This would be the basement, Marcus told himself. Have to dig past the wall and then up to the sub-basement of the plantation. From there, pull through the floorboards from underneath, sneak through, and have at those bastards with everything they’ve earned. Find the girls, get out, and leave the place in ashes.
He dug further, his incredible strength long since replenished by sleep. Marcus knew he’d need reserves for his task, and as he crawled deeper into the earth, his great legs joining him in his newly dug cavern, he knew he’d need even more than he suspected. Nature had given the ursine races strength to dig and senses to lead that effort, and though Marcus had never experienced this facet of his ancient heritage, he felt at home and well capable. Sensing vibrations above and around, senses cluttered by a nearby septic system, Marcus turned and dug further along horizontally before pulling upward on a slope toward the house.
Going to need stealth once I’m in the house, Marcus told
himself, or that bastard Le Croix will just hide behind the women, maybe kill them both—anything to save his own miserable hide. But almost every guard in the place will be between him and me, and sneaking up on him just won’t be possible.
Marcus kept digging, surrounded by pitch darkness, only his own breath and heartbeat in his ears, other than his scratching claws, suddenly soft soil shifting in front of him.
Ground’s wet, Marcus cautioned himself. Have to be careful it doesn’t cave in on me. Little enough room to work as it is.
Marcus dug further along, instinct telling him when to ascend, sloping upward toward the house.
Have to shift back into human form as soon as I’m in the house, Marcus reasoned out, give me the stealth I’ll need. I’ll be more vulnerable, but I’ll retain the advantage of the surprise. But… a shifter in human form in a houseful of lupes is practically a corpse in any form.
Marcus knew he had little choice.
He scratched his way upward until his claws hit the concrete floor of the house’s sub-basement. He pushed away enough dirt to create a passage he could pass through. Jamming his claws up into the concrete floor of the sub-basement, it cracked easily and crumbled, lacking the rebar which didn’t exist at the time of the plantation’s construction before the Civil War.
The cell in the basement had been a new addition, one designed especially for him. But, he wondered, could they have built such a cage so quickly, in just a week? Possible. Or it could be that they’ve been hunting me for longer than I realized.
It hardly mattered as Marcus climbed through the concrete floor of the sub-basement. Just three feet above was the hardwood floor of the manse’s main room, or one close to it. Knowing that the bedrooms were upstairs, Marcus felt ready to violate the place at virtually any room on the lower floor.
Marcus carefully slid his claws up and around the side of a plank, forcing it away from the one next to it, the plank buckling with the steady, unyielding pressure. But silence was necessary, and Marcus could hardly stifle the sound of the wood creaking in his mighty paw. Once dislodged from one end, it was an easy matter to pull the floorboard down and in. The plank next to it was even easier to pull out and down. A third gave Marcus, in human form, room to climb up and into the still, dark, first floor of the plantation house.
