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

by A. C. Arthur

  “Shut the fuck up!” Rafe yelled at them. “Get the cans so we can get on with this!”

  By this time the three girls that had been left in the coffee shop had closed their laptops and were hustling out of the shop. I wanted to scream for them to help me or to call them names for not helping me. Unfortunately, they were already long gone.

  Rafe was holding me so tight I could barely breathe. His chest heaved as he glared down at me. He leaned in closer, rubbing his nose along the line of my neck and I almost threw up the bagel and cream cheese I’d gulped down during my last fifteen-minute break. I craned my neck, hoping to move out of his reach but that was to no avail. His nostrils continued touching my skin, a rumbling beginning in his chest.

  Then there was a noise. I could have sworn I’d heard it before. It was like a loud hiss, louder than any cat I’d ever heard. Again, I wanted to close my eyes and scream loud enough that the citizens of heaven might actually hear me. But I just couldn’t. Instead I kept my eyes open, saw Chris and Brett returning with big silver cans in their hands.

  Rafe’s nostrils were then replaced by his tongue and I panicked. It was beyond gross, the feel of his disgustingly wet tongue moving over my skin.

  “You smell like that animal,” Rafe murmured. “Just like that stupid pussy cat!”

  “Let me go!” I yelled, my voice finally deciding to make an appearance.

  “We’re done back here,” I heard Chris say just before there was a crashing, like maybe he’d thrown down that can he was carrying.

  I couldn’t see him or Brett anymore. My view was blocked by Rafe’s wide arms wrapped around me, his hot breath on my skin as he talked.

  “She smells like him!” he said with disgust once more. “I’m trying to clean her up. She can’t go with us smelling like him.”

  I didn’t know who I smelled like and didn’t really care, I just wanted him to let me go. So I squirmed. I tried to loosen his grip on me enough so that I could at least lift my knee and deliver a shocking blow to his balls. But he was so much stronger than me, tears welled in my eyes as I felt like he was actually going to crush my bones.

  “Forget her, man, she’s not worth it,” Brett said. “We can get another one.”

  “No!” Rafe roared.

  And yes, it was a roar. Like one of the big animals at the zoo. It was loud and I thought maybe some of the glass in the shop may have shattered. I knew I needed to get the hell away from him now. If I didn’t I wasn’t sure I’d be alive much longer.

  “She goes with me! But he has to think she’s dead. He has to believe she’s dead, now that his scent’s all over her, or he’ll follow, like a lost pet,” Rafe said.

  There was another sound and then a strong odor permeated the air.

  “It’s done! Let’s go if we’re going!” Chris shouted, coming beside Rafe and clapping him on the back. “I’ll take her.”

  Chris pulled on one of my arms but Rafe instantly pulled back. “No, she stays with me!” he yelled.

  “I saw her first,” Chris replied, his fingers still wrapped tightly around my other arm.

  “I’m in charge!” Rafe countered.

  “You’re bat-shit crazy!” Chris continued. “Look at your eyes, you’re about to shift right now and have us all in deep trouble. Just let her go!”

  “I said no!” Rafe yelled and everything around us did shake at that point.

  That was just before I felt the heat and out of the corner of my eyes saw the huge wall of fire as it spread throughout the side of the coffee shop. I screamed at that point, right in Rafe’s ear. The sound must have startled him because he released his grip just a bit. Just enough so that I could take a partial step back and deliver that knee like I’d wanted to for the last few minutes.

  Rafe yelled once more, backing up in pain. Chris reached for me again, his grip had also loosened with my scream. I wish I’d known that simple act would have gained my freedom, I would have done it much sooner. I knew Brett would be headed my way so I jumped over a chair that had fallen on its side and backed into one of the tables. The fire was all around the perimeter of the coffee shop and Rafe and Chris were blocking the door. Brett opened his mouth and yelled and I could see sharp teeth that I knew instinctively were not human. With that thought I reached for the closest chair. Lifting it over my head I hurled it through the window and jumped right behind it. I figured I could land on the sidewalk and break a few bones but at least I’d be away from these goons, and the fire they’d apparently started. With that in mind I felt myself moving through the air, not sure how this was going to end up but praying, still praying that Aidan wasn’t in jail. I know, crazy, right?

  CHAPTER 11

  Aidan

  I’d run for I don’t know how long before the inevitable truth hit me and I ended up heading back to the apartment building where I grabbed my clothes and my bike and headed to the motel.

  By then it was well after midnight and all I really wanted to do was to go back to that dorm and get Grace. I contemplated putting her on the back of my bike and the two of us riding off into the sunset, or sunrise, whichever, as long as we were together. But that would have been wrong, it would have been introducing her to a world she could never understand and one that would ultimately turn on her. I wouldn’t do that to her, couldn’t. So I returned alone and gathered the rest of my things. With one large duffle bag and my helmet I walked out of the motel room. The manager had been paid in cash and while my classes hadn’t been completed I’d had such a high grade-point average in the first weeks that skipping the exam wasn’t going to put me in the failing category. I’d still obtain my degree. What I would do with it at Havenway and as a part of the Stateside Shadow Shifters, I had no idea. At least I would know that I’d achieved one of my goals in life, one that I’d set for myself.

  I’d just stepped off the curb and secured the bag to the back of my bike when I heard the sirens. They’d obviously been lying in wait for me because lights flashed and the three police cars were on me within seconds. Still, I could have gotten away. I could have shifted.

  They said something along the line of Miranda warnings and cuffed me. I didn’t argue, didn’t speak a word, just thought about Grace and about the shifters and how my capture would ultimately put them in danger. I could have cursed myself, cursed the decisions that I’d made, the warnings I’d ignored, but where would that have gotten me? I rode in silence to the police station not really knowing what would happen next and not caring except I remembered the scent that I’d picked up back at my apartment and then again in front of Grace’s dorm just a few hours ago. With a low growl I identified the scent and then I did curse my stupidity and irresponsibility.

  There were rogues in Victory.

  * * *

  Roman Reynolds wasn’t your average attorney. Yeah, he walked with a sure stride, slow measured steps with his shoulders squared, the excellent cut of his designer suit catching everyone in this small quaint town’s attention. He surpassed six feet, probably by a few inches. His dark complexion, shiny designer tie-up shoes, and crisp leather briefcase were like a neon light flashing the word “different.” And yet, he wore it with great confidence, integrity dripping from every pore of his being, the hum of danger following him like a bad scent.

  “Sheriff Griffin,” Rome said with a nod to the pudgy man who had stood at the sight of his arrival.

  The sheriff looked Rome up and down, distaste clear in his every movement, even as he reluctantly accepted Rome’s outstretched hand and shook. “And you are?”

  “I am Roman Reynolds, Mr. Sanchez’s attorney.” After releasing the sheriff’s hand, Rome set his briefcase on the table across from where I was seated and pulled out a chair.

  He hadn’t looked at me yet, hadn’t said a word to me. I sat up straight in the chair, arms outstretched, hands flat on the wood-topped table.

  Rome unsnapped his briefcase, pulling out a gold pen and a notepad. “I understand you are holding my client on suspicion of rob
bery in the first degree and possession of a firearm.” His voice wasn’t loud but it was dominant and vibrated throughout the small room I’d been sitting in for the last ten hours.

  Later I would thank Rome for coming to Victory even after I told him I would meet him at Havenway. Right now, I needed him to get me out of here as soon as possible.

  “We’ve got evidence that proves he robbed Pete Newman down at the gas station the night in question,” Sheriff Griffin said sternly. He’d taken a seat too, his short legs unable to close around the wide girth of his stomach, his scraggly mustache covering most of his lips.

  “A bracelet that can be purchased at any one of these online retailers,” Rome stated, pulling out another stack of papers from his briefcase and sliding them across the table so that they rested directly in front of the sheriff. “You will also note from the sales logs that ten bracelets just like the one you found at your crime scene were delivered to this address. I took the liberty of finding that address when I arrived in your lovely town. Victory Gale University, where to date there are presently seven hundred students enrolled.”

  Sheriff Griffin’s stumpy fingers flipped through the pages. By the fifth or sixth sheet I figured he’d picked up on where Rome was going with this conversation.

  “That means you have nine other suspects in this robbery,” Rome continued. “Are they all under arrest as well or do you have some other reason for holding my client?”

  “We have an eyewitness account of what happened,” Griffin claimed.

  “Yes,” Rome said with a curt nod. “Rafael Newman and Christopher Giles, both of whose names you will see on that sales log.” He set the pen that he hadn’t even used down on his also unused notepad, folded his hands, and looked directly at the sheriff. “That means that two persons signed sworn statements that my client was the one who robbed this gas station. They also stated that they saw him commit this robbery and that he dropped his bracelet in the commission of this crime. What they did not state was where they were during this robbery. How was it that they came to witness this crime but did not report it until the next morning, exactly seven hours afterward? And why has my client not been identified by Mr. Peter Newman, the owner of this gas station, who also happens to be the uncle of Rafael Newman, one of your eyewitnesses? In fact, Mr. Newman hasn’t been seen or heard from since the morning before the robbery.”

  “Now, you just wait one minute,” Griffin started, pointing a finger at Rome, who only shook his head.

  “I’ll give you five minutes, Sheriff Griffin, to release my client. You don’t have fingerprints or reliable witnesses, or any proof that an actual crime has been committed. You took the word of two students who could also be considered suspects, and arrested my client. If I were to bring in a team of private investigators I’m sure I would find some foul play where Mr. Newman and his nephew are involved. I might even find that this trail of foul play leads around this town and its fine constituents in a maze of bribery, embezzlement, and a series of unsolved assaults. And that maze will end right at your doorstep.”

  Sheriff Griffin sat back in his chair, the wood creaking with the abrupt movement. His face had reddened like a tomato, his dull gray eyes bulging until he almost looked like a cartoon character. “How dare you?” he huffed. “You can’t come into my town and make these types of accusations. We made a clean arrest.”

  Rome stood and was placing his notepad back into his briefcase. His pen made a clicking sound as he closed it, slipping it too, back into the briefcase before closing and locking the caramel-brown carrier. He looked to the sheriff, then finally to me and said, “Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes later I was slipping into the front seat of a black Escalade, windows tinted, rims sparkling, with the East Coast Faction Leader. The click of both our seat belts echoed in the space and I immediately said, “Thank you for coming to get me.”

  Rome sat back, staring straight ahead. “You know who’s here, don’t you?” he asked calmly.

  I nodded, squeezing the bridge of my nose as I looked out the window. “Rogues.”

  “That’s why we need you and your brothers at Havenway. We need your talents to help us stop them, to keep them as contained as we possibly can until we find a more permanent way to deal with them,” Rome told me as the driver of the SUV pulled away from the curb and began heading out of town.

  All my life I’d heard stories of the great Shadow Shifter Boden Estevez who had terrorized the tribes of the Gungi for years before being brutally killed. One of his protégés, Sabar Tavares, had taken over, vowing to build his own shifter army to rule over humans and shifters alike. Rome and his enforcers had the first confirmed incident with Sabar and his minions just a few months ago, right about the time I’d decided moving forward with the trials and becoming a sworn Topètenia soldier was not for me.

  “I know what my duty is,” I told him.

  “But you want to fulfill your duty on your own terms,” Rome finished for me. “Been there, done that.”

  I looked over to him, to this leader of our kind and scented only the truth coming from him. My fingers flexed and clenched at my side. “Just because I was born to be a leader doesn’t mean that I want to be.”

  Rome nodded. “I know that feeling,” he said, looking directly at me. “I also know that you’ll never know your true destiny until you stop running and let it find you. Coming back to Havenway and completing the trials doesn’t chain you to a vehicle and fill your days with rogue hunting. It opens the door to everything you were meant to be and also that you aspire to be. The community of shifters around you is there for support, not to dictate your every move. You will be part of a team that is bigger than the chains you’ve imagined you’re bound by.”

  I wanted to believe him, needed to on some level. I hadn’t disliked the training I’d received as my brothers and I traveled the world with my parents. The different shifter tribes had much to teach us so that we would become the new generation of protectors and that the knowledge we possessed would be used for the greater good. What I’d hated was the feeling that I was trapped, that there were no other alternatives for me. Rome was saying that there were. He was telling me that walking the path that was before me wouldn’t necessarily carry me in a circle back to the Gungi, but would take me to wherever I wanted to be. If I had the guts to actually walk that path, which so far, I hadn’t. I’d been running and hiding and doing exactly what I’d accused Grace of doing when she didn’t want to talk about what had happened to her.

  Grace had courage, she had strength, and she had resilience. Not only had she endured personal shame, but also the public ridicule that had all come from someone else’s actions. She’d taken everything her parents and so-called friends had dished out to her and she’d stood strong against them, she’d come to Victory and she’d moved on with her life, on her terms. I admired her strength and wondered if I had the same within me.

  I thought about my future and about how I could use what I’d learned in college combined with all that I’d learned about being a shifter to further the tribe’s journey. I’d had significant time with humans across the world, seen so many different cultures and absorbed a lot of their ways, surely that could be beneficial. Surely, I could go to Havenway and become …

  My chest tightened, searing pain like a thousand knives ripped at my skin. I couldn’t breathe as I jerked back in the seat, my eyes glued to the window, watching as the streets I’d become familiar with disappeared behind the SUV. I blinked and my pupils felt thick, my vision clearer than it had ever been before. My fingertips ached with the pressure, biceps vibrated with the intense demand to shift.

  Rome grabbed my arm then, he was saying something, his voice sounded different, like he was in some type of funnel and I was steadily moving away. Inside my cat roared so loud my entire body vibrated.

  “Aidan? Aidan!” Rome yelled from beside me.

  When I turned to him this time, looking at him with what I knew were my cat’s eyes,
the one word to slip from my lips was, “Grace.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Aidan

  Raging flames licked at the brick and wood of the coffee shop, sending funnels of black clouds drifting upward into the air. Muted screams echoed in the background as the SUV pulled up across the street from the building, sirens coming from somewhere in the distance.

  I was out of the vehicle before it stopped, running across the street, heading directly into the fire, directly to where I knew Grace would be. Through the smoke and the burning stench that peppered the air I scented her, my cat sought her out like a moth to a flame. Through the black smoke I could see her lying on the ground in front of the coffee shop, not moving, barely breathing. I yelled her name, knowing she wouldn’t reply and lifted her into my arms, knowing her arms would not wrap around me in response. Then I took off, for where I had no clue, all I knew was that I had to protect her, to get her to safety. So I ran and ended up two blocks down at the mouth of an alley that fed into two different streets. I collapsed against a wall, sliding until I was sitting on the ground, holding Grace in my lap. With my free hand I ripped off my shirt, using it to wipe the soot from her face.

  “Talk to me, Grace. Please open your mouth and talk to me. Meu companheiro,” I whispered over and over as I cleaned her face and down her neck.

  She didn’t speak, her body lying lifelessly in my arms. The constriction in my chest continued as tears stung my eyes.

  “Grace. Meu companheiro,” I continued. “Minha vida. My life. Please, oh please.”

  I rocked back and forth holding her close, feeling her warmth against my own. My fingers filtered through her hair, trailing down her face over her closed lids, touching each one of the freckles that bridged her nose, feeling the softness of her lips.

  “Minha vida. I cannot do this without you, Grace. I cannot walk my path if you’re not there. Grace, Grace.” The last was nothing more than a whimper as I felt like the entire world as I knew it had crashed down around me.