Free The Claimed by Caridad Piñeiro

Rafael’s roundhouse kick. It grazed along her back, providing another punishing flare of power. In automatic response, she whirled and shot out her arms, sending a blast of electrical power that caught Rafael mid-chest and dropped him to his knees from the force of the hit.
    “Shit, I’m sorry.” She rushed to his side and slipped her arm around him to offer support.
    “I’m okay,” he said, but she could detect the waver in his energy field created by her jolt. Luckily she had tempered the shot. A full-strength discharge could have literally fried all the connections of his Hunter vessel, killing him.
    In response to the imbalance in his aura, she released a bit of her power to replace the networks that her charge had short-circuited.
    He drew in a shocked breath and murmured, “That’s not necessary.”
    “I’m your Quinchu. It’s what I do for our people,” she replied, reminding him of her role. As his Quinchu she was destined to maintain his life force and that of the other clan members who could not hunt energy.
    The loud ring of the business line interrupted the moment. It was late for a call, but she didn’t want to miss any potential customers given the current state of the economy. She and several of her cadre members relied on the income from the shop to support them.
    “Are you okay?” she asked him, loath to leave if he still needed her care.
    “I’m fine,” he said and as if to prove it, rose to his feet and offered up an easygoing smile.
    She returned his grin and walked to the phone. She snagged it and breathlessly answered in a sing-song, “It’s a Shore Thing Surf and Sail.”
    “Is this Victoria?” a man said, and she recognized his voice immediately. It awakened heat within her core with its opulent tone.
    “Christopher. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” she said, and then nearly bit off her tongue at her stupidity.
    A very masculine chuckle in his deep baritone came across the line before he said, “I’m glad that you expected I would call. That at least gives me hope that you might want to see me again.”
    Heat flooded her cheeks and somehow she curbed her embarrassment. Never good with feminine guile, she admitted, “It would certainly be nice to meet you under less trying circumstances.”
    Maybe in a calmer environment she could secure an explanation for the energy she had perceived and relievesome of her anxiety about what he was. If he wasn’t a foe…
    Well, that would certainly allow her to explore her physical attraction to him.
    “Would it make it less trying for you to know that the Jet Skier made it? I called the hospital and they said he was in critical, but stable condition.”
    Victoria sighed with relief at the news. “That
is
nice to know.”
    “It might be even nicer to celebrate. It’s not every day that you save a man’s life.” The tenor of his voice was carefree and infused lightness to her heart. In her Hunter world, she dealt with death more often than she cared to. If she could eliminate him as a threat, it would be a pleasant change to be around someone with whom that wasn’t the case.
    “So what did you have in mind?” she asked, excited about the prospect.
    Christopher named a local seafood restaurant. “Dinner tomorrow? Around seven?”
    Monday afternoons were generally slower at the shop so that was perfect. It would give her time to get ready for the date.
    A real date with a man she had chosen, she thought, smiling, although she took a moment to rein in that excitement and remind herself that she needed to learn more about his power before it went any further.
    “I’d like that,” she said more guardedly, and after agreeing that he would pick her up at the shop, she hung up.
    When she turned, she realized that Rafael was standing by the door. Like the storm winds that were part ofhis particular affinity, his gaze was shadowed and his features clouded with either anger or concern. His emotions had weakened his control,