Mine to Claim (Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts)

by Arthur, A. C.

  Before I could figure out what to say or how to say it without sounding as embarrassed as I felt, his arms were moving around my waist as he lifted me off the ground. Yes, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the nearby bench where he deposited me with a resounding thunk. My teeth chattered a bit at the jostling but again I didn’t speak, because by then he’d moved to where my bag and purse were lying on the ground only a few inches away from the spreading stain of hot chocolate and scooped them both up. I wasn’t really watching the rescue of my items as intently as I was watching the pull of the dark blue jeans he wore over his butt and thighs and when he turned back to me, the strain of that T-shirt over abs that I already knew were tight and a little bit irresistible. He wore a jacket today, a leather one that sort of reminded me of those old bikers in the fifties’ high schools—I watched a lot of old movies and right now, Grease was springing to mind. I half expected there to be some clique-like emblem on the back of his jacket and some secret code that would prohibit a nobody like me from talking to him.

  He stood at the bench, dropping my bags down beside me then leaned so close to my face I thought he might kiss me. I prayed he might kiss me.

  “Stop daydreaming and watch where you’re walking,” he said with a visible frown.

  My voice finally made an appearance. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah.” He groaned as he stood up straight again. “You’re excused.”

  I jumped up from the bench as he was turning away. “If I’m not mistaken you bumped into me, too. So maybe you were the one daydreaming.”

  He looked back over his shoulder. “Not likely.”

  “Oh, right, because you don’t dream. You just sit at bars late at night, drinking by yourself, then riding by yourself, then moping around campus by yourself. Does that sound about right?”

  He stopped then and I wondered for a second why I’d said all those things, why I’d mysteriously found courage that had almost always eluded me with this guy that I’d actually been looking for all day.

  When he turned, it was slowly, like maybe he might pull out a knife and come after me for what I’d said. Even though my words hadn’t been that bad, I didn’t think. The thing was that I just really didn’t want him to go so quickly. I’d looked for him all day and the moment I saw him he was about to leave. Something inside me screamed to not let that happen. Something I hadn’t known was inside me, but was there nonetheless. It was undoubtedly a part of the new Grace, the one I was trying with all my might to embrace.

  With that in mind I squared my shoulders and looked directly into his eyes, well into the lenses of his pitch-black shades.

  “What I do is my business,” he replied, his words clipped, lips drawn in either anger or irritation.

  Folding my arms over my chest I frowned right back at him. “Same for me, so you should probably stop telling me what to do every time I see you.”

  He took a step closer and every part of me went on alert—I mean even those personal parts of me that never seemed to perk up for any guy. His shoulders were much broader up close and in my face in broad daylight, instead of from behind in the dark of night. The jacket hugged his frame like it was made just for him, the jeans drooping only slightly from his hips. His skin, I could only see it openly on his face, was an olive complexion, smooth but for the shadow of a mustache and beard. The sun’s rays were winding down as fall had already claimed the campus and night was coming sooner, still his ebony hair glistened in the last light of day.

  “Somebody definitely needs to tell you what to do in order to keep you out of trouble. But it’s not going to be me,” he told me as if he had a right to make that type of judgment.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard,” I said even though, damn, if I did he would definitely be my first pick.

  My arms hitched upward, involuntarily, the friction against my breasts was, however, welcome since I couldn’t quite seem to calm the ache there.

  “You need something,” he said now that he was standing only a breath away from me.

  Hell yeah, I needed something, and maybe he was it. Or maybe he wasn’t. I was getting carried away. The rampant beating of my heart, the slight watering of my mouth as I stared up at him, the definite heat vibrating between us, was probably muddling my thoughts. It had to be, because this wasn’t me. I didn’t incite guys like this, I didn’t taunt them, and I definitely did not stand this close to them wanting desperately to be closer.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I muttered finally, sounding more like my normal self and definitely doing what I normally would have minutes ago.

  I turned away grabbing my book bag off the bench first and then tossing it over my shoulder. My purse was next and when I had both of them situated—which took me way longer than usual—I turned to see that he’d walked away. I looked around for him and saw nothing, like he’d simply vanished. With a deflated breath I dropped to the bench again, letting my head loll back as I contemplated my own stupidity.

  * * *

  Believe it or not, two weeks later I was reluctantly willing to try once again. Scarlett had run down the majority of the guest list for the party at Pierce Gregory’s place tonight. Her new boyfriend, Jordy, the one she’d danced with at the bar that night, was friends with Pierce. Jordy and Pierce were both seniors, both on their way to Yale to study law. Scarlett, who was in her sophomore year, had no clue what she wanted to major in—on paper it said psychology, but she’d yet to take any courses related to the topic. Instead she spent her class time in astrology, art, pottery, and some diversity class she’d picked up after dropping her prereq math class the second week of the semester.

  “It’s going to be a more mature crowd. Chris and his crew aren’t even invited,” Scarlett had informed me earlier in the day when I was still wavering on whether or not to go.

  By nine o’clock I’d slipped on a pair of black yoga pants and a pink thermal top. My black fleece vest and Uggs completed the casual ensemble and I’d only had enough energy to pull my hair up into a sloppy ponytail. Did I mention that I was reluctantly willing? This past week had been mega busy as I’d scored a job as cashier at the campus coffee shop. I needed the money since I refused to take any that my parents put aside for me no matter how many reminder e-mails my mother sent. So between my five course class load and the seven to eight hours a week I needed to study, I was now spending twelve hours a week ringing up overpriced cups of coffee and mocha lattes for a bunch of kids who could probably do worse than develop a caffeine habit.

  To say I was exhausted and an evening in bed watching an old movie sounded much better than heading out into the brisk night air to an apartment that belonged to someone I didn’t know, to spend the evening with more people I didn’t know, was a vast understatement.

  “That’s what you’re wearing?” Scarlett asked the moment she turned from the mirror to look at me.

  She, of course, was dressed to sexy perfection in black leggings and four-inch-heeled ankle boots, a lavender scooped-neck sweater that barely brushed her hips, perfectly applied makeup, and all that luxurious hair pulled into a haphazard braid hanging over her right shoulder. She looked like sex on a platter waiting to be served to the highest bidder. While I looked like I should be on my way to a bus stop or to hitchhike my way out of town.

  “It’s comfortable and I don’t have anybody to impress,” had been my response.

  “But there’re always possibilities, Grace. You have to prepare for the possibilities,” she advised, turning back to face the mirror, checking her glossed lips one more time.

  “Not when the temperature has dropped twenty degrees and I’ve been on my feet more this week than I have in what feels like the last ten years of my life. I couldn’t care less about possibilities tonight.”

  Scarlett sighed. “I’m sorry about the bar.”

  I wanted to sigh too because I was really tired of her apologizing for something that wasn’t her fault.

  “Stop it about that, it’s over. I’m not even th
inking about it anymore. Let’s just go and get this over with,” I said, heading to the door, hoping she’d follow my lead and talk about something other than the bar or Chris or Aidan—even though she never brought up Aidan.

  His face and voice were just never very far from my mind. But that was my issue, not hers.

  Pierce lived about fifteen minutes from campus in a small apartment building that looked more like a warehouse. Scarlett parked across the street and climbed out of the car immediately after snatching the key out of the ignition. I, however, sat there a few seconds longer staring up at the building and wondering how smart going inside was.

  To be clear, I never used to be averse to going to parties. Well, I’d never been invited to many. The crowd I hung with back in Seattle were their own brand of stuck-up and cool. Stuck-up because they thought the money their parents had made them better than those whose parents did not have large bank accounts, luxurious cars, and houses that appeared in doctor’s office magazines. And cool, because they had to think that of themselves since nobody else in the school did. I did everything my parents told me all through grade school, then I hit middle school and I began doing everything Rebecca and Misty told me to do. Hence the reason I started going out with Rory my sophomore year in high school—he was Rebecca’s first cousin.

  For the record, Rory was also very cute and captain of the debate team and the chess club and on his way to Harvard to become an attorney just like his father and grandfather before him. His life had been completely mapped out for him and he was more than happy to walk in those footsteps filled with money with a great big smile on his face. He was used to getting everything he wanted, just like the rest of their clique, so when I went against him that one time I became public enemy number one. My punishment, two years of continued degradation and embarrassment as Rory’s official girlfriend, while he slept with any and every other girl he could instead.

  I should have been strong enough to break up with him, to tell him and his stupid band of brainless followers to go to hell. Instead, I took the safe route, letting my parents, all of our parents, believe that Rory and I were the happy little couple and that one day we’d graduate college and marry, combining our families’ net worth into an astronomical sum.

  Finally, I came to my senses. I stood up to my parents, sort of, and I left Seattle.

  The sound of Scarlett banging on the car window jolted me from my thoughts and I opened the car door, resolute to continue on my path of forward movement.

  “You getting cold feet?” she asked after I’d closed the door and we walked across the street.

  I shook my head. “Nope. But my hands are freezing. You really need to get that heat fixed in your car.”

  She frowned, then smiled. “Later.”

  The word should have been her motto. Whatever she didn’t absolutely have to do at this very moment, Scarlett didn’t do. I wondered what it would be like to live so carefree, to be so content on doing whatever I wanted, when I wanted. It had to be liberating, if not frustrating especially on cold nights such as this when she had refused to wear a coat because none of the ones she owned looked cute with her outfit.

  The elevator was a rickety platform with a caged door that we had to close on our own before Scarlett slammed her palm into the up button. Another jolt and we were moving, making a very loud arrival on the top floor. This time a guy pulled the gate open and we stepped off onto gleaming wood floors.

  The apartment was huge, or maybe the lack of walls separating the different rooms made it appear to be so. At any rate, there were at least fifty people milling about, all holding either beer bottles or glasses in their hands. Music played in the background, not overly loud, but definitely party-like. The ceiling was high and full of beams and light fixtures that hung haphazardly. Somebody moved and I saw a couch, long black leather. To the left more people gravitated to glass doors that opened out to what I figured was a balcony. And to the right was a kitchen, a counter full of liquor bottles, and a bucket of ice.

  “Looks like fun,” I said, unable to hide the glib tone.

  “Come on, it’ll be great.” Scarlett pulled me along behind her as she stopped periodically, speaking to people until she finally found Jordy.

  He hugged her so hard, lifting her completely off the floor and spinning her in a semicircle. Then he saw me and waved. I waved back and turned away to find my own entertainment for the night. That black couch was looking better by the moment. First, I was thirsty so I headed to the kitchen area hoping there was something there other than alcohol.

  Of course I was wrong. I grabbed a wine cooler because that looked to be the calmest thing available. It was pink-lemonade flavored so I figured it couldn’t be that bad. I was wrong, but it was cool going down and I was parched so I dealt with it and moved around the milling people in search of the couch. If I could sit there with my lowly drink I’d ride out the night without incident and before I could go absolutely crazy it would be time to go.

  “Dance with me, cutie,” I heard a male voice behind me say.

  I kept walking because I was sure he wasn’t talking to me.

  “Hey, I want you to dance with me,” he said and this time he touched my elbow.

  I turned, ready to give a quick, “No thank you.” He was really tall and really cute with a dimple in his chin and sky-blue eyes. His jeans and tucked-in button-up shirt gave him a neat and clean-cut appearance and I actually thought about dancing with him. Then I changed my mind and shook my head, declining. He followed me to the couch and when I sat down, he joined me. I slid as close to the arm of the chair as I could without jumping right over it. He chuckled and moved down closer.

  “I’m Rafe,” he said, extending a hand to introduce himself.

  I had the wine cooler in one hand but the other was free and I felt stupid just looking at his outstretched one, so I took it and shook. “I’m Grace.”

  “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, more than a little uncomfortable by his compliments and by the way he continued to stare at me, eyes and mouth smiling.

  I felt like he was undressing me with those eyes, my skin was prickly, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I wanted to wrap my vest tighter around my chest, cross my legs, and maybe look for a blanket to toss over me as an extra precaution.

  “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out all alone at a party like this?” he asked.

  I wanted to know the answer to that question myself. “I’m not all alone. My friend’s over there,” was my reply.

  He never looked away from me. “She’s over there and you’re over here with me. That’s cool.”

  Somebody came along, clapping Rafe on the shoulder and giving him a beer that he immediately consumed half of before turning his attention back to me.

  “So what do you like to do, Grace, since you don’t want to dance?”

  I shook my head, feeling like this motion was becoming a habit. “I’m just into going to school and that’s it.” What a lame response. But I wasn’t trying to impress this guy. I mean, as far as guys went, he wasn’t obnoxious like Chris had been, nor was he pushy and arrogant like Chris’s friend. But he was annoying me just the same. I couldn’t quite figure out why but I wanted him to go away, soon.

  He was talking, I could hear the drone of his voice in my left ear, but I wasn’t paying attention, not at all. I took a sip from my bottle, then another. The pink-lemonade taste barely gave way to alcohol so I took another sip, looking anywhere but at Rafe who was still talking about something.

  And then I saw him and nothing else existed. Not the bottle in my hand or the guy on my left. Nothing, but Aidan.

  CHAPTER 4

  Aidan

  She was here.

  I knew it the moment I parked and chained my bike just beneath the entrance to the underground garage. It was around the side of my apartment building, but not completely inside the garage so the outside air blew directly over me as I knelt down to insert
the cord and combination lock. I lifted my head halfway through the inhale, yanked the lock into place, and immediately stood, looking around. It was a little after ten and the street was relatively clear. I walked slowly up the slight incline until I was once again on the sidewalk, looking left then right, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Rounding the corner the first thing I noticed were all the cars parked along the street signaling that someone in the building was having company.

  And she was a part of that company. I could feel it even though I’d yet to see her.

  My steps were precise and quick and I was at the door to the building in no time, pulling it open and stepping quickly inside. Another deep inhale had my temples throbbing, my chest heaving, my cock hardening. I took the steps as usual because the elevator made too much noise, announcing my arrival and departure, which wasn’t how I operated. Moving with stealth and concentration was how I’d been trained.

  Even though my training had been far from my mind in the last three years, it was bred into me, switching on instinctively, regardless of my personal choice.

  I took the stairs three at a time, wrapping around the corners as if they were simply part of the straight path I could see in my mind to her. I had to walk that path, had to keep right on going until I saw her … again.

  Two weeks ago I had no idea who she was or that anyone of her kind could interrupt my course the way she had. I’d been wrong. I could admit that now. I hated to be wrong.

  She was on the top floor. As I tore through that door my nostrils flared, fists clenching and unclenching at my sides as I moved. I could hear the music in the distance, scent the others that were in there with her, but it was her that I followed, she that was pulling me, against all the warring thoughts in my head toward that door.

  I didn’t knock, didn’t have to since it was obviously a party and people would come and go as the night went on. The guys that lived up here had lots of parties. I heard them all the time and had managed to ignore them until tonight. Once I was through the door it only took one quick scan of the room to single her out, to find exactly where she was and to see that she was not alone.