Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts, The Complete Series: Mine to Claim, Part of Me, and Hunger for You

by A. C. Arthur

  When he walked away I felt like a total flake for having these continuous thoughts about how good his hands felt on me in the midst of tonight’s events. On top of that I knew I had to look awful. I attempted to pat down my hair, which I knew had to be all over the place. As if a greater entity was sending a signal of how ridiculous my thoughts had become, razor-sharp pain shot straight through to my skull, the stinging of my tender scalp bringing tears to my eyes. For what seemed like forever I just lay there with my eyes closed, taking shallow breaths and waiting for the pain to subside.

  “You need a painkiller.” Caleb’s deep voice sounded through the fog of aching I was currently visiting.

  “Uh hmm,” was my best reply. I felt like I needed so many things right at this moment. A painkiller would most likely help, then I’d at least be pain free while trying to get a grip on the growing arousal.

  “Let me take care of your ankle and then I’ll get them,” he said.

  I kept my eyes closed even though I did enjoy watching him move around like he was some sexy-assed paramedic. My entire body was in pain from the exertion of battling with Dex. That whole scenario brought back other memories, ones I’d never wanted to think about again, ones that still weighed heavily in the center of my chest.

  In the next moments Caleb was handing me a glass and pills, while a large Ziploc bag was tucked under his arm. “Ice for your foot and orange juice and painkillers for you,” he instructed.

  “You’re an answer to my prayers,” I blurted out.

  He looked kind of uncomfortable with those words, as he should be, I guess. I just took the glass of juice and tossed the pills into my mouth, being careful not to look at his face again.

  Caleb came closer, his Dr. Martens boots thumping lightly over the hardwood floors as he stood right over me. If I looked up—which it took all the strength I had left not to do—I would be on a first-name basis with his crotch. That thought sent serious thrills throughout my body. And then, he knelt down beside me, giving me that serious—serious as in demeanor and as in seriously hot as hell—look. I gulped down enough juice to swallow the pills then another gulp just to make sure my mouth didn’t go dry staring at him.

  “Do you need anything else?” he asked. “Extra pillows or a blanket?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m fine,” I replied, reaching out to place the glass on the floor. There was no coffee table but since this was a guy’s house I didn’t really expect one.

  “I think I know what happened to you, but I’d like for you to tell me,” he said.

  “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask the question because I’d been wondering why he seemed to be everywhere I was lately, or more likely everywhere I was when I needed him to be. “I mean, all I know about you is that your name is Caleb and that you like to come to the bar to drink Blue Moon and eat hot wings. I’m sitting in your apartment and I probably shouldn’t be because maybe you’re a serial killer or something.” I sighed, impatient because the pain pills hadn’t kicked in yet and because I didn’t know what to say to him without saying how much I wanted him.

  The next thing I felt was Caleb’s fingers lightly moving over my forehead, then massaging my temples.

  “Just relax,” he said. “Relax and know that I’m not a serial killer and that all I want is to keep you safe.”

  My eyes fluttered and I licked my lips. “I want to believe you but I know I shouldn’t. I’m too trusting, that’s what Hanna says.”

  “Hanna’s a little rough around the edges,” he replied.

  “She’s my only friend,” I said in defense.

  He stopped massaging my temples and instantly I wanted to take the words back so he would resume.

  The look on his face was filled with a little confusion and a lot of pity and in the next instant I felt like sinking so deep into the comfortable cushions of the couch that he would no longer see me.

  “What about your family?” he asked.

  I hadn’t had anyone ask me that in a long time. After graduating from high school I noticed how less frequently I was asked about my parents or siblings. I figured adults had other things to worry about. So I remained quiet for a moment, wondering what I should say, if I should lie, if I should just brush him off. It wasn’t any of his business, the dysfunctional nuthouse that I’d come from. It was nobody’s business. And dammit, just thinking about it all had tears burning my eyes once more. I’d cried so much as a little girl, in the dark corner of my room as my brother and sister slept, I started to believe there were no tears left once I grew older. When I finally left that house I declared to never shed another tear. Tonight, it seemed I was doomed to break that vow.

  “I’m not a coward,” I heard myself saying. “And I’m not some guy’s punching bag. I never will be.”

  Caleb’s fingers traced a feather-like path down the sides of my face. “You shouldn’t be.”

  His words were spoken quietly, still they held so much power, so much authority I had to open my eyes, to look up at him then, trying desperately to blink away those pesky tears. Caleb was staring right at me, his face so close to mine his breath warmed my cheeks. It was so intense, this look he was giving me, these feelings I was experiencing, that I felt like I had to tell him, like I owed him some sort of explanation for ending up on his couch battered and bruised.

  “Long story short, Dex was being an ass inside the bar. I went outside with him only because I was tired of making a scene. I should have seen it coming, should have recognized the signs,” I said, feeling the sting of tears against my eyes and hating the inevitability of crying in front of this guy. “He was going to … going to …”

  I had to stop, had to take a minute to breathe and just accept what had almost happened, to me of all people. I’d lived this bull crap most of my life and swore I’d never, ever, be in this predicament, and now look at me.

  “I refused to let him hurt me anymore,” I said so quietly I didn’t know if Caleb had even heard me.

  “He won’t,” was Caleb’s whispered response. “He won’t.”

  I knew that tone. No matter how quiet and how lovely his voice sounded at this pitch, I knew what was lacing those words. Pity. And I hated it.

  I tried to sit up, also hating that the room did a little tilt-a-whirl as a result.

  “Whoa, slow down,” Caleb said, bracing his hands on my shoulders to keep me down.

  I blinked, tried desperately to focus on his face and not the background that was still spinning a bit.

  “I sprained my ankle kicking him in the neck after I finally got away from him. I didn’t lie down and let him beat me.” I took a quick breath because it felt like those few words had taken all the air out of me. “And I didn’t want to go home because I knew he’d come there looking for me. I’m really not in the mood for more fighting and I’m in less of a mood to have the cops in my face.”

  Caleb only nodded in response to my diatribe. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or was just humoring me because he was quiet and his face alone didn’t give anything away.

  I lay back against the cushions, closing my eyes again and holding my breath as I waited for him to respond. He was probably going to think I was some type of lunatic female, kicking guys in the neck. Or he was going to think he didn’t need to be all “knight in shining armor” with me because I could obviously take care of myself. Either way his next step would surely be to pick me up and deposit me outside on the front steps of this gorgeous duplex where he lived on the top floor.

  But that’s not what happened …

  His fingers raked through my hair, the blunt tips rubbing softly along my scalp. Tentatively I opened my eyes and stared directly into his as he was even closer to me now, so close the tip of his nose brushed over mine as he tilted his head and … finally, touched his lips to mine.

  My eyes fluttered closed once more and I imagined I was between the pages of one of my romance novels, that the warm lips pressing against mine were of my hero. He—my hero—would hold
still there, just enjoying the contact … no, he, Caleb’s tongue demanded entrance and I didn’t resist. With a flash of heat that pierced all the way down to my crotch his tongue rubbed against mine. I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck and pulled him closer. I wanted so much more of this because reality was winning hands-down over my romantic imagination.

  When he pulled away we were both out of breath, but he spoke first.

  “I’m sorry.” His words were a whisper over my face.

  “No. No, don’t be,” I replied immediately. “I wanted you to kiss me.” Admitting that seemed oddly easier than admitting that I’d tried to crush Dex’s larynx with my foot.

  Pulling back slightly, Caleb gave me that look, the one where the left side of his mouth lifted in an almost smile and his deep brown eyes looked soft instead of foreboding. “I wasn’t apologizing for kissing you.”

  “Oh.” Now didn’t that make me feel like a big idiot?

  “I was apologizing for not putting a stop to him sooner. I should have as soon as I figured out what he was,” he finished.

  “What he was?”

  Caleb’s lips thinned, his brow wrinkling as he pulled away.

  “You shouldn’t go back to your place,” he continued. “That was smart of you not to want to. He might try to find you there. I’ll go and get whatever you need, just make me a list.”

  He’d stood while he was talking, moving away from me. The loss was staggering. I wanted him back here on this couch with me, I wanted his hands in my hair, his lips on mine. Okay, I guess all those years of never having anything but pain and grief turned me into a selfish brat because all I could think about was what I wanted right now.

  “No! You shouldn’t go there.” I was pulling myself up on the couch, ignoring the pain and letting my left leg fall to the floor. I totally forgot about the condition of the right one and pulled that one along too. The ice fell and pain radiated throughout every part of me that could feel. I yelled, couldn’t help it, and Caleb came running.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, hurrying back into the room and grabbing the ice pack.

  “I don’t want you to go there alone. What if Dex and his friends are there?”

  Caleb smiled this time, an eerie kind of smile that might have scared me had I not already seen the gentle side of him.

  “All I want you to worry about is getting some rest and keeping the pressure off this ankle.” He lifted my legs again, positioning the right one on the pillow he’d brought out from his bedroom. Once again, he put the ice pack on top of my ankle and looked at me sternly. “Do not move until I get back.”

  “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

  “Hold it,” he replied. Then he winked at me and my nipples instantly grew hard. “Down that hallway to your left.”

  I couldn’t speak. Well, I had to when he asked for my house keys and what I wanted him to pick up for me. If I was embarrassed at my admission to him about my kinda-sort-of abusive ex-boyfriend that I’d just injured, then telling him which drawer my panties and bras were in was mortifying. Absolutely so as I saw him write the word “thong” on the notepad he’d been holding, I covered my eyes and groaned.

  CHAPTER 9

  Caleb

  Her taste filled me even as I drove through the dark city streets with murder on my mind. I loved the flavor and hated the feeling. It was like fingers drumming up my spine, the beast within moving, awakening, readying itself for battle. Clenching my teeth so hard my temples throbbed didn’t help, grasping the steering wheel with all my strength also did nothing but press the animal further, rubbing against its already brewing rage.

  It had never been this way before. I’d never felt so ready to hunt and to kill my prey. If I let myself I could probably taste the blood of the rogue I wanted to destroy. It would be such a simple task as they lacked the focus and intensity to their fighting that Shadows properly trained possessed. Since the rogues had defected from the tribes to follow the now infamous Sabar Tavares, they relied only on him for their guidance. Considering Sabar was a sadistic killer, it stood to reason the extent of their training was to kill first and never ask questions.

  That worked fine for me, especially tonight. I wanted Dex to be at Zoe’s place. I wanted him to be there waiting, expecting her and getting me instead. Oh how I wanted that to happen.

  Some higher being obviously had other ideas.

  I parked across the street from the run-down old house on the end. I’d seen it before one night when I’d followed Zoe home, curious to know as much as I could about a female that I shouldn’t be at all interested in. She hadn’t even asked why I only needed her key and not for her to give me the address to her place. Maybe because she was in pain, or maybe it was because of our kiss.

  That kiss.

  I’d kissed a fair share of females. Well, probably not as many as my brothers because entanglements really weren’t my thing, even if they were just physical. I was the proverbial loner, to the fifth power. But I was still a guy, a guy mixed with Shadow Shifter blood that made my libido ten times more active than a normal guy my age—which was saying a lot. I had urges and when they became too strong to ignore, I acted on them. Then I moved on.

  Zoe seemed like more than an urge and that worried me.

  Her door sitting wide open with light pouring out into the hallway also worried me. But this was a good kind of worry, it meant that Dex was there.

  I stepped into the room with thoughts of how I would kill his sorry ass fresh in my mind. The complete disarray of her furniture and other items did not shock me. Rogues were unstable creatures, hence the reason they defected from the tribe in the first place. They had no sense of decency or respect for rules, whether human or shifter. So trashing her place would have been a game to them, a vicious message sent by Dex to the female he planned to use and later kill. That thought had my fists clenching at my sides as I moved from the open area of the room to the small bathroom all the way in the back.

  “Dammit!” I cursed and banged a fist into the wall to find the space empty.

  I should have known, there was no stench, but sometimes it was masked when my own emotions were taking over. I had my own instabilities due to my half-breed nature, another reason I knew I didn’t belong with the tribes.

  Moving back out into the room I went to the dresser where Zoe said her things were and found what personal items I could, throwing them into one of those recyclable grocery bags that was lying on the floor. Just as I was about to walk out the door my phone vibrated.

  I had to shift a little to adjust the bags I was carrying with all Zoe’s minor necessities, as she’d called them, inside. When I finally looked at the screen I couldn’t help but smile. It was a text from Zoe. I’d given her my number before leaving the house, instructing her to call me if she needed anything.

  Thx for being a good guy & not a serial killer. Z

  She thought I was a good guy. I had a little trouble with that concept considering how I’d come to be on this earth. The Sanchezes would say that was foolish thinking on my part, that what happened between my biological parents had absolutely nothing to do with me. But, yeah, it sort of did, since I was the one who’d been left here to carry the memories along like bad breath. So seeing these words on my screen from the female I’d been just a little obsessed with over the last few weeks felt damned good.

  Walking down the stairs, I left the place where Zoe would never return. She needed, no she deserved, something much better than this run-down spot, and this was before someone had just about destroyed the place. That someone had been Dex and his boys, I knew that without a doubt and wanted to crush the three of them for this infraction alone.

  I also wanted to hurry back to my place, to Zoe, who looked way too perfect sitting in my living room. Taking care of her had come naturally, even though I’d never taken care of anyone in my life before. I’d never been overly concerned with anyone, but me. The Sanchezes as an extended family had done their job, but my
demons were my own. Even those demons hadn’t allowed me to shy away from her. That fact alone should have told me something.

  ***

  My heart just about stopped when I entered my apartment and found her gone.

  Dropping her bags in the center of the floor I turned in a slow, complete circle looking around at every inch of the living/dining room area for signs of intruders. I inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, reaching for every part of me that was Shadow Shifter for better access to details.

  Then I heard water running. My head shot up and turned to the right. The water was coming from the bathroom. Zoe was taking a shower.

  Relief washed over me in heavy waves as I walked in that direction, not for one moment thinking that maybe I shouldn’t go in there. I opened the door and felt a clenching in my chest as I stepped into the steam-filled room. Her skirt and shirt were on the floor, along with her underwear—which I could ignore only because I’d already had my hands on the pieces of clothing that had been closest to her body while I was in her room. The urge was still there but I was able to push it aside because the thought of her being naked and just a few feet away from me had taken over.

  The water switched off the moment I reached out for the door handle. I don’t know what I was thinking of doing or what I intended to say, “Ah, hey, I would have liked to take a shower with you” didn’t really seem appropriate. By that definition my being in here while she was showering probably wasn’t either, but only an otherworldly event could move me from this spot at this moment.

  She pushed the door open and just before I could really take in all her gorgeous nudity, she stumbled. Reflexes on overdrive, I reached out and wrapped my arms around her wet waist to hold her upright.

  “Dammit!” she exclaimed trying to push away from me, but the slippery shower stall, plus standing on one foot, didn’t actually equal success. “I was doing so good up until this point.”