Mine to Claim (Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts)

by Arthur, A. C.

  Something inside me shifted. It slid along my spine predatorily, opening its mouth wide, licking its tongue over parted lips and purred, low and steady.

  At that exact moment, as if she’d heard the sound, recognized the call personally and longed to obey, she looked up and our gazes locked.

  Her legs were crossed, hands in her lap, one gripping a bottle. She sat up straighter when she saw me and licked her lips. I groaned right along with the soul-deep purring this time and took those next steps toward her. All the while my mind screamed how big a fool I was, how this was not going to end well. I didn’t listen, or I did, but not to the part of me that I’d wanted to cling to for the last few years. Not to the human part of me.

  “Let’s go,” I said the moment I stood in front of her. I extended my hand and expected her to accept it and follow me out of this room.

  I should have realized where I was and who I was surrounded by. I should have been paying more attention, been more alert, but I couldn’t see or think past her.

  “I don’t think so,” a male voice intervened.

  Out of my peripheral I saw the guy that had been sitting next to her get up. He puffed out his chest proudly, leaning into my side as if ready to do physical harm if need be. I prayed it wasn’t necessary, for his sake.

  “She’s with me,” he continued.

  I never even looked at him, just kept my focus on her as she looked from me to him a couple of times before standing.

  “Actually, I’m not with either of you,” she replied before walking away.

  I immediately moved to follow her, but the other guy grabbed my arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going? Didn’t you hear me say she was with me?”

  This one wasn’t drunk, but would be in about two more beers. The stench was already surrounding him like a cloak, undoubtedly impairing his judgment.

  “I need to talk to her,” was my response, spoken as calmly as I could manage, all things considered.

  “Well, it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, so do the right thing and just walk away.”

  This guy was probably six feet exactly, with the lean build of a quarterback and steely eyes of a boxer. He was glaring at me like he’d enjoy nothing better than to punch me, to make me look like a fool in front of Grace. I hadn’t said her name aloud or allowed it to replay in my head since hearing her say it that first night. Now, I looked for her once more, finding her across the room standing near the balcony, looking directly at me.

  “I won’t be the one walking away,” I said more to myself than the guy, because for me, right now he wasn’t the important one.

  Until his grip on my arm grew tighter and he added a little shove and he said through clenched teeth, “Look, asshole, I don’t know who invited you but I’m telling you it’s time to go!”

  That he’d raised his voice was the first thing I noticed as a shift in the atmosphere took immediate occurrence. Like at the bar, other guys converged behind this one, looking at me with that same wary glare, the one that said they were more than ready to kick my ass—the one that reminded me of another time and another place when things didn’t end well.

  I swung before I could think of a reason not to or before I could allow my doubts, my upbringing to persuade me in another direction. My fist connected soundly with his nose, the crack unmistakable, the blood spatter quick and violent. The guys surrounding him converged immediately and everything spiraled out of control—just like before.

  Fighting them off was no problem, they were no match for my strength, for everything that lingered inside of me. Glass broke, things like chair legs, pillows, and let’s not leave out fists were hurled at me. I ducked and punched and maneuvered my way out of the group that were now fighting because someone either pushed somebody else or punched the wrong guy, or whatever. Blood pumped fiercely through my veins as my bones ached, muscles bunched with the restraint of holding it back, keeping the beast at bay.

  So when she touched me I lashed out, turning on her with a growl that was a bit more primal than I intended for her to ever hear. She jerked back so hard and so fast she slammed into a wall, knocking a framed picture loose that was about to crash down onto her head until I grabbed her and pulled her out of the way.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that,” I said immediately because she was looking up at me like she was about to swing on me too.

  “You should go,” she replied in a clipped tone. “Now.”

  She was right. I should leave. I’d seen her and I’d been close to her and what else did I want? Why had I even come up here in the first place? It was all so ridiculous.

  “Get him!” someone yelled and she grabbed me by the arm, pulling me toward the front door.

  “You should leave before they really hurt you,” she was saying over her shoulder, all the while moving quickly through more people who were too shell-shocked to join in the fight, but were alert enough to stare at us as if we’d just stolen all the gold in Fort Knox.

  I followed her out because she was leaving with me. Going into the hall and heading straight to the elevator we moved like someone was chasing us, which by the way, they were. That’s when I decided to take over, lifting her into my arms and carrying her through the stairway door and down the next two floors. Through the door to the fourth floor we went and down the hall past three other apartments. She hadn’t protested and fought like I half expected her to, but once I stopped moving she said slowly, clearly, “Put me down, you big idiot!”

  I did what she requested, but made sure her back was to the door and I blocked her only escape.

  “I said you needed to leave, not me. My friend’s still up there,” she told me while pulling on her jacket and adjusting her pants. “Get out of my way.”

  This time when she touched me, when she pushed against me, I pushed back, taking a step forward so that she had no choice but to move farther into the door behind her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking up at me.

  It didn’t take my abnormal DNA to see she was afraid and that it was my fault, but I couldn’t let her go, not at this moment. I dug into my pocket and pulled out my key, sticking it into the doorknob quickly and pushed it open. She fell back and I reached out to catch her.

  “Are you nuts? First you save me in the bar then go radio silent while bringing me home, then I see you again and you’re rude to me and now, now…”

  She didn’t seem to know how to finish her comments.

  I decided to finish them for her.

  * * *

  Grace

  I thought he was going to kiss me.

  Then I thought, no way!

  But yes and yes.

  His lips touched mine in a quick heated moment, so fast I almost choked on the air that was trapped in my lungs. My hands went to his chest but not of their own free will. I felt captured and taken and I wasn’t doing anything to stop it.

  The pressure of his mouth against mine was intense, so much so that my eyes fluttered closed just as the butterflies that had been dancing around in my stomach since seeing him walk into that apartment, circled swiftly then plummeted completely. The anticipatory feeling rested in my center where it grew to a persistent throb just as his tongue swiped a warm path over my still closed lips.

  Open your mouth. Kiss him back.

  My body roared for my mind to hear and take note. It clearly wanted more.

  My mind, on the other hand, was wondering what I was doing here—how did I get here and how did I end up in his arms? Wasn’t this wrong on some common sense level? Or was it just a natural attraction, one that I’d been waiting all my life to act on?

  To hell with the Q&A, I opened my mouth and let him inside. It was sweet and intoxicating all at once, the touch of his tongue against mine in that first deep plunge. My head spun, my knees buckled, and I was thankful for his arms wrapped tightly around me. He tilted his head, I tilted mine in the opposite direction. He pulled his tongue out and I wanted to screa
m for more. My eyes opened and I was shocked to see him staring back at me. As if he heard that plea he plunged again and I drank it all in like the thirst I’d had for this type of physical connection had lasted a lifetime.

  Suddenly my fingers were clenching his shirt, turning the material over and over, pulling on it as if I wanted the shirt off, out of the way. Then there would be skin, the skin of his muscled chest where I now felt the incessant beat of his heart. I pushed my body closer to his, thinking that maybe this heat he emanated would soothe the tingles rippling through me. It worked and then again it didn’t. I wanted more. I needed more, from him, from this guy named Aidan Sanchez who nobody on campus knew a damned thing about. Nobody, including me.

  Once again my back was to the wall, his hands had moved from around my waist, down to cup my ass cheeks. He squeezed so hard I wanted to say something, instead it came out as a muted moan as he continued to kiss me. I flattened my palms on his chest and let them rest there, feeling the heat and the pleasure. He smelled so good. Each time I inhaled I wanted to keep that scent right there in my memory. It wasn’t a cologne, I knew, but something tangier, like a musk. At the same time it reminded me of outside, of being in the grass with a fresh breeze blowing.

  Then his hand moved upward dragging my shirt with it until his fingers touched my bare skin. The sensations ripped through me like pointed spikes and I sucked in a breath. In seconds, my mind was in another place at another time. He kept telling me we could do this, that it was time and I kept shaking my head no, no, it wasn’t time. It was all wrong. We were in a crowded house. If I opened my eyes I knew I could see people which meant they could just as easily see me and what Rory was doing to me as we lay back on that chair. He’d been kissing me on my mouth and then on my cheek and my jaw and my neck. His body was pressing into mine until it actually hurt to breathe. I pushed at him, wanting him to stop, pushed as hard as I could and he barely budged. His hands moved really fast, both of them gripping my breasts, squeezing until I wanted to scream in agony. I pushed again and this time I lifted my knee right into his groin, yelling for him to “Get off!” the moment his lips were no longer on mine. And then my entire world came crashing down.

  Aidan’s kisses grew hotter, wetter, his breath coming in thick heavy pants. And speaking of which, his hand had left my skin to push past the band of my yoga pants and I screamed, “Get off!” Pushing against his chest with both palms, I guess the yelling in his ear and the jolt of motion caught him off guard because he stumbled back. I didn’t hesitate, just made a run for the door, wrenching it open and getting the hell out of there without looking back.

  * * *

  “You have got to stop disappearing at parties,” Scarlett was saying just as I ran across the street, skidding to a stop when I made it safely to the car. My heart was thumping so fast, my lips—still swollen—trembling as I fought the urge to cry.

  “Sorry,” I managed to mumble, biting my bottom lip to keep it from shaking. “I’m here now. Let’s go home.”

  For a minute I thought she was going to ask me where I had been or what was wrong. God, I didn’t want her to ask either of those questions, didn’t want to lie to her or even think about telling her the truth, the whole truth. It was still fresh in my mind even though I’d run far away from the memory. I hated what Rory tried to do to me and the degradation that had followed.

  “Right, home. Jordy’s a jerk-off anyway, going with Rafe and his pals to look for Aidan Sanchez,” she was saying as she climbed into the car. “I don’t know what they’re going to do to him when they find them, but believe me, it won’t be pretty.”

  I’d slipped into the passenger side of the car, closed the door, and pulled my seat belt on with shaking fingers by the time Scarlett finished talking. Her words made me shiver and reluctantly I looked out the window, up to the fourth floor of the apartment building.

  He was there. Aidan. Standing at the window looking down at the car, at me.

  CHAPTER 5

  Grace

  “Hey, did you hear?” Scarlett said, busting through the door of our room, slamming it closed behind her as she dropped her purse and book bag on the floor. “Campus police and the local cops are looking for Aidan Sanchez. They say he robbed the gas station at gunpoint last night.”

  My pen slipped right through my fingers, landing in the crease of my textbook with a slight thud. I’d been sitting at the desk that faced the window for the better part of the morning, opting to use the day to study and to daydream. More of the latter, but nobody was keeping count.

  “Wait, what?” I shook my head as I spoke because of course I’d heard what she said, I just didn’t believe it.

  “I know, it’s crazy,” Scarlett continued. She’d plopped down on her bed and was kicking off the wedge heels she’d worn out to have brunch with Jordy. It had probably been more like early afternoon sex after coffee and bagels as a makeup for ditching her last night to go on that manhunt for Aidan. It was almost four now so I assumed they were thoroughly made up by this point.

  “Jordy and I were coming out of his apartment when the real cops were pulling up. They asked all kinds of questions.”

  “Really?” My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. I made that sound like I was clearing my throat when really there was nothing in it and anyone paying attention would have realized that. “What did they ask you?”

  “They asked if I knew where Aidan lived and if I’d seen him last night.”

  She stood and pulled her shirt over her head. The shower would be her next stop, confirming my suspicion of her sex for breakfast or brunch, whatever.

  “You don’t know where he lives and we all saw him last night.” Some of us had seen him a little more up close than others.

  “That’s what I told them,” she said, stepping out of the floral miniskirt she’d worn. Clad only in her underwear she went to the only closet in the room and opened it, grabbing her bathrobe off one of the pegs and pushing her arms into it. “He came into the party, started a fight with Rafe, and then took off. That guy has anger issues. Every time he shows up a fight breaks out.”

  “He didn’t start the fight,” I replied, maybe too quickly.

  Scarlett’s wild mass of hair swung around her shoulders like a delayed reaction as she looked at me in question. “How do you know who started the fight?”

  Time to downplay. I shrugged. “I was sitting right there.”

  Pulling the belt tight at her waist, Scarlett walked toward where I sat.

  “So what exactly happened between those two? As I heard it, they didn’t know each other until last night.” She looked suspicious and curious and like she was wondering how much I really did know.

  “I’m not sure. It all happened so fast,” I told her. “But I was ready for Rafe to get lost, so I wasn’t really arguing with Aidan’s interruption.” I hadn’t been arguing because I’d been too shocked that he had not only walked into the party, but that he’d come straight over to me and asked me to go with him. It had actually been more like a command, but nobody needed to know the specifics. Besides, I was much more interested in what Scarlett had told the police about Aidan.

  “You do know that Rafe and Chris are both on the football team?” she asked me.

  I frowned. “No. I did not know that.”

  Scarlett made a clucking sound and turned away. “You’ve got to get out more or at least pay attention when I talk. Chris, Brett—the guy with the broken finger—and now Rafe—the guy with the broken nose—all play on the football team. And they’ve all been assaulted by Aidan Sanchez in the last couple of weeks.” She was just picking up her cosmetics bag when she stopped again and turned to me.

  “And they were all talking to you just before a fight broke out. Hmm, what are the odds of that?” she asked, eyeing me like she was counting down the seconds until I spat out an answer.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have one.

  “They all sound like idiots and getting the police invol
ved is probably unnecessary. Aidan Sanchez is not a thief.” I said that with way too much confidence, I knew it even if I wasn’t staring at Scarlett who was probably looking at me like I had lost my mind.

  “You do not know Aidan Sanchez, none of us do. I told you he’s a recluse,” she all but screamed.

  Her tone was exactly like Rebecca’s when I’d told her I was thinking of pressing assault charges against Rory. She’d been adamant that I was wrong about her cousin. The rest of my so-called friends had taken her side, calling me the slut and reminding me how lucky I was that Rory was willing to continue our relationship regardless of the childish way I’d treated him. I was immediately irritated.

  My hands moved incessantly. I clasped them together to keep it from being so noticeable. “He’s a recluse because he’s not on the football team and he doesn’t hang with the rest of the crew?” For too long I’d thought being with Rory and Rebecca and in their selective group was the best place to be. Now, I knew better.

  “He just appeared out of nowhere and he’s old enough to be finished with college and he doesn’t want to fit in,” Scarlett continued, her chin going up as if I’d somehow offended her.

  “College doesn’t have an age limit, Scarlett. And it doesn’t come with some rule book that says one has to be accepted by everyone else to be considered a good person or a good student.” I stood from my chair, tired of the way she was looking down at me and tired of the conversation. “I’m going out for coffee.”

  I’d already picked up my jacket and was zipping it as Scarlett called to me from beside her bed.

  “You’re a naïve little freshman, Gracie. You came from that uppity little town in Washington where you were the star of the show, your parents were royalty that ruled the land, so you’re hardly one to get up on your high horse about those that are accepted or not accepted. Take my advice and stay the hell away from Sanchez. He’s bad news and your hoity-toity parents definitely would not approve.”