Fated Hearts

Chapter 1Ethan I shut off the water, then grabbed the towel hanging on the rack, and quickly but thoroughly dried myself before I wrapped it around my waist. The bathroom was hot and humid, but I still shivered for a minute as my skin adjusted to the differing temperature. I tried to ignore it as I got ready, brushing my teeth, styling my curls, and shaving my cheeks till they were smooth. The whole time, I studiously avoided looking at the mark on the left side of my neck. I’d trained myself not to even glance at it when looking in a mirror. To not touch it at all the rest of the time. Not because I was ashamed of it. I certainly wasn’t. But because it reminded me, time and again, what I didn’t yet have. To the mundane world, it was simply a port-wine-stain birthmark. Red, slightly raised, and in the shape of a heart. A jagged, misshapen one, but a heart nonetheless. But thanks to my Granda, I knew exactly what that mark was. An Anam Cara. It displayed, quiet clearly, to the preternatural world that I was destined to be a supernatural being’s mate. Me. A mundane human without an ounce of power, no magic whatsoever. It had been thrilling when learning the truth at eighteen. But now, here we were, fifteen years later and I still hadn’t found the one I was meant for. It wasn’t that I’d given up hope. I hadn’t. I firmly believed that Fate worked the way she worked and that I’d find my person when I found them. Whenever the time was right for both of us. But I was frustrated with waiting. And not just because I was a thirty-three-year-old virgin who really wanted to have s*x. Okay, so tonight that was the major frustration, but it wasn’t the thing that usually plagued me. Yes, I wanted to have s*x. Hell, even getting off with another person would be great. But other than some hot and heavy make-out sessions, and definitely some mutual grinding on the dance floor, I’d only ever gotten off by my own hand. And it wasn’t like I believed people should be celibate until marriage or mating or anything like that. I wasn’t into that purity bullshit. s*x was natural and wonderful, and anyone who wanted to have it, anyway they wanted to do it, should be able to. But something always stopped me short of going further. I listened to my gut, and kept things relatively chaste, because that’s what felt right to me. Even though I was frustrated beyond belief about it. But when I wasn’t frustrated and horny, the part of me that longed for my mate took over. The part that wanted to build a life with another person, and have someone there for me. To be there for someone else. To compromise and live and laugh and argue. To cuddle and snuggle. To just be with. That’s what I wanted most. But it would happen when it happened, and I had to trust that. It wasn’t always easy, but I did trust that. So I went about my days and lived my life. And sometimes I hit the club downtown where supernaturals were known to frequent. I liked the club for the atmosphere and security. The music was great and the drinks outstanding. And no one looked at my mark with disgust, because supes just didn’t think like that. Was I also hoping that maybe, somehow, I’d run into my mate at long last? Sure. Of course I was. But I didn’t hold out much hope. Of course, every time I went, there was a whisper in the back of my brain. This time. This will be the time your person finds you. I shook my head, shoving that thought out of my brain, and left the bathroom to find clothes. Tight jeans that showed off my assets, a dark blue button down in a silky material that went great with my complexion and made my brown eyes look even darker, and a pair of ankle boots that added two inches to my five-foot-nine frame. A quick glance in the mirror at just my hair to make sure my curls hadn’t gotten out of control, then I shoved my wallet, phone, and keys into various pockets and headed downstairs. “Ethan, lad!” Granda’s voice rang out. “Ya headed out?” “Yep.” Granda stuck his head around the corner of the door to the kitchen. Robert MacGowan’s hair was mostly white now, though there were still a few streaks of ginger in his hair and beard. He had a wide smile—because the man was always smiling—and his blue eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief. The magic he possessed crackled off him, which meant he was probably working on something in his workroom off the back of the kitchen. When I was younger, I hadn’t been able to tell. But after living with him for so long, I could see the signs. “Ya gonna behave?” His teasing tone made me laugh. “Not if I can help it,” I said with a snort. Granda waggled his bushy eyebrows. “There’s a good lad.” He laughed, too, a big booming sound. But then his eyes darted to my wrist, and he turned somewhat serious. “Ya got yer bracelet?” “Of course.” I shook back my sleeve to show off the black tourmaline and clear quartz bracelet I’d worn every minute of every day since he’d given it to me. It was imbued with protection and grounding spells, and I knew what kind of magic went into creating it. I cherished it and never went anywhere without it. “Good, good. “ He smiled. “I won’t wait up. Call me if ya need me.” I nodded, gave a wave, and headed out the door. Club 42 was less than a mile away, and since I planned on drinking, I walked. It wasn’t exactly a dangerous part of town, though there were always dangerous creatures about, so I wasn’t worried. I had my protection, and since I knew the supernatural world existed, I knew what to look for. Besides, my Granda was well known and highly respected. Most beings wouldn’t want to mess with me. I hadn’t intended to live with Granda as long as I had. He’d taken me in at fifteen when my parents’ neglect reached its peak. “Neglect,” even now, sounded like such a strong word, especially considering what neglect could actually look like. I was ignored, really, but I always had a bed and food. They didn’t hit me or anything like that. But they never really liked my birthmark, and what it meant, and they certainly had little words for me when I came out as bisexual. My granda took me in, and my parents had been glad not to pretend to care anymore. Granda was ashamed of his son, as he certainly hadn’t raised my father that way. But it didn’t matter to me. Granda had been a constant presence in my life since I was a baby, and I’d been more than happy to leave home and live with him. And though I was now grown and worked at his apothecary, I still resided under his roof. It gave us both peace of mind. Besides, we liked each other and it was a mutually beneficial situation. I didn’t see any need to change that until I had to. Like when I met my mate. Whenever that might eventually be. No. None of that thought process tonight. I was going to drink and dance, and enjoy myself. And then I’d crawl into bed alone at the end of the night. It would be fine. Great even. It was exactly what I needed. No pressure, just a way to blow off steam. The club was jumping by the time I got there, and there was a small line, which I bypassed entirely. The Griffin shifter on the door knew me, and more importantly, she liked me. I’d been working when she showed up at the apothecary, looking for something to help smooth her shift, and I’d suggested a labradorite stone infused with a transition spell. Granda had done the work, I’d made the sale, and Analise was one happy griffin. “Boo bear!” She grinned, showing off her teeth, some of which were pointed, then pulled me into a quick hug. It was a silly nickname, and she always had a new one for me, thinking she was funny. To be fair, she kind of was. “Hey, Ana, how’s tricks tonight?” She smacked a kiss on my cheek, then winked and gave me a light slap on the ass. “Head in and find out.” I grinned as I reached for the door, and behind me, protests and groans sounded. I glanced at Ana, but she was staring down the crowd. They instantly quieted. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of a griffin’s ire. I gave her a cheeky grin and headed inside. I liked coming here because they had managed to strike a balance between upscale pub and dance club. The music was just loud enough to get lost in, but not so loud you couldn’t have a conversation. The food was top notch, and the drinks top shelf. It was comfortable and warm, but the whole atmosphere was laced with the edge of s*x and want. Plus the security was tight, and consent was the name of the game. No one had to worry about anything happening here they didn’t want. I’d heard rumors the place was owned by an incubus, so that made sense. But whatever the reason, it was a great place to be. I didn’t recognize either of the bartenders, but I wasn’t in here often enough to know them all. The wolf shifter had their eyes shifted, and I really liked their undercut. They caught my attention right from the start, and I couldn’t help staring until they looked my way. They lifted their eyebrow, smirked, and headed in my direction. “Hey, sugar. What can I get you?” Her name tag read Malinda and had her pronouns as she/her. “Crown and coke, please. If you wouldn’t mind.” I tried for a flirty tone. She laughed, a throaty sound. Then she pointed to the mating mark bitten into her collarbone, even as she winked. “Coming right up.” I grinned wide to let her know I wasn’t going to be an asshole about it and pulled out my wallet so I could pay her for the drink with a generous tip. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Of course, she was taken. Not that it would go anywhere. There’d been that split second of hope when she met my eyes that I’d been waiting for the zing, that pull, letting me know she was the one. But it hadn’t come and the most I would have gotten with her was a hot and heavy make-out session. Maybe with some groping thrown in. Without the pull, I knew it wouldn’t go farther than that. I accepted the drink, handed over enough cash to make her wink again, then moseyed toward the dance floor. I was early and I knew it wouldn’t be long before things really picked up, so I had some time to kill. The music was louder here, and I wasn’t sure if it was magic or architecture. It didn’t matter. I started swinging my hips to the beat as I sipped my drink, scanning the crowd, waiting for someone to catch my eye, someone who’d love to dance. And then, between one heartbeat and the next, my gaze locked on the man sweeping through the edge of the crowd. Tall, dark, and handsome was made to define him. He had grace and beauty, was tall and lean, and even as my hindbrain screamed “vampire,” I couldn’t look away. Like it was physically impossible to tear my gaze from him. Emotion and feeling zinged in my chest, and I stared, frozen, waiting. Suddenly, he lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he scented the room. Laser-like focus zeroed in on me and he stalked toward me, everyone around him moving out of the way. My breath caught in my chest, and I staggered forward several steps to meet him. He licked his lips when he was still a few feet away, and I caught a hint of fang. And then there we were, chest to chest, barely a hairsbreadth between us. He was taller than me by a few inches, and I tilted my head to keep staring into those fathomless dark eyes. He stared back. I wanted to climb him like a tree, wrap myself around him and let him drain me dry, while at the same time, knowing he would never hurt me. My heart pounded a staccato beat and the rest of the club fell away until it was only the two of us. If it were for the bracelet on my wrist, I’d worry that he’d managed to glamour me. But there was no way he could have, and so this was all natural. Fate. My mate? Maybe. Because I’d never felt like this in all my years on this earth. It had to be special, right? “Hello there.” His voice was deep, a smooth tenor that slithered through me and made me shiver. His grin was a little feral, and I saw his fangs on full display. “Aren’t you delectable? May I have your name?”