Chapter7:Three

Clare

Clare took the corner when she saw trouble shaped in the form of a car. The light captured her figure and the music grew louder as the car lowered speed. The front window wound down and she turned her head to the white Chevrolet, that was full of men. The one in the front seat mocked her in a drunken deep Indian accent "Hey, what's your name, where you going? come on, I'll give you a ride."

She frowned with saliva thick in her mouth. For a second she contemplated bolting it, but looking up at the sky she screamed,  "God how about some help, or miracle will do."

When she heard them laughing in the car, she caught the whiff of alcohol, they were plastered, and most likely on something more. Her fear rose to panic and she kicked her legs into a sprint. Building her speed, she ran the corner she needed to take to get to the hill she came from. She wished she'd stayed with the other guys, they seemed safer, scarier and stronger, but safer,

"Aarck" she screamed as she sprinted down the road toward what she hoped was safety. The men continued to follow her in the car, laughing and mocking her attempts. They drove down the road and for a moment her body slowed in instant relief, thinking they lost interest. But no, the car paused a few blocks below and parked off , waiting.

She ran down the hill thinking she could pass them before any ONE of them jumped out of the car, and possibly duck in one of the hotels. To her disgruntled surprise and horrible luck, a bald guy from the back seat jumped out. He was fat with a thick silver chain locked around his neck and slightly shorter than Clare.

Clare ran, going deeper on the pavement to avoid him.

The man grabbed her as she passed the car. She screamed as loud as she could, "HELP!, HELP ME." She kicked his shin and elbowed him in his big belly. He cursed in pain swearing her profanities but let her go even if it was with a hard shove. She stumbled but didn't lose balance.

The men in the car threatened her with bodily harm, but didn't jump out. Checking the road for any cars or signs of life, she looked profusely from side to side, but there wasn't any.

She turned at the sound of the fat guy now a few feet away, screaming like a woman. Spying the wetness on his jeans, and twisted position of his leg she was shocked, it looked broken. Clare didn't think she could've kicked him that hard, could she?

Bending over, hands to her knees, ignoring the men in the car while trying to catch her breath. The banging on the window frightened her at the thought of them jumping out, causing her to lose her balance. A sharp pain tore through Clare's left shoulder as she fell, landing hard on an idle brick in the center of the pavement. Her face contorted with discomfort. Squeezing her eyes shut, she opened them slowly looking up into the darkness.

"What the hell.."

With her right hand she rubbed at her eyes, not certain or believing what she was seeing was real. Pulse racing, breathing escalating she was definitely seeing something, and it was falling from the sky, at a missile speed,

"Can shit get any deeper!?"

Ignoring the men in the car, her focus detained on the descending object that now looked an awful lot like a meteor.

Why did it seem like her time to die. Maybe it was all a dream and she was asleep in her room.

Unfortunately the pain in her shoulder quickly assured her of how real it was, and if that wasn't enough, the car load of angry men who still scorned her would have done the job.

Lost in the fire blaze that just kept falling way too fast, she was mute besides for the two words that split her lips, "holy shit."

Pushing herself up, moving in a backward crawl, using her heels and her hands and ignoring the pain that tore with every flex of her shoulder. The men in the car oblivious to what was now so close still screamed saying only hell knew what. They were the least of her problems. She was too busy gawking at the fiery light dying down as it drew closer, and closer.

Clare screamed and screamed, her lungs hurt, her shoulder desperate for restraint, until finally in front of her, stood

a man,

She had no idea where he'd come from, well she did, it was the light, or meteor thing. Shit, this wasn't happening, she was supposed to go for a walk and get back. Crazy guys in leather and drunken ass wipes weren't part of the plan. And a guy that glowed like he'd been sent straight down from heaven, had no business being anywhere, holy shit, was he an Angel.

The mysterious man landed on his right knee and one really large hand firmly splayed on the stone ground. And at that moment her mouth blurted loudly, "oh thank you god."

He stood up like some sort of saviour with feet plastered to the ground and legs slightly parted. Blocking Clare from the other men which she thought was the bravest thing to do.

His attention focused solely on her as his voice drifted through her like molten lava, "I am not god." He then gifted her with the most cockiest and leg melting smile she had ever seen. Which sent shock waves coursing through her body, as her cheeks turned crimson.

She caught the streaks of ginger or was it orange, and black that made up the colour of his hair, as the wind blew the volcanic mass in his undefined gorgeous face.

The hue of his eyes remained a mystery but for the shimmering ray of light the glowed behind it. What the hell was this guy. Corded muscles displayed his long length as his ripped v waist peaked out of his loosely fitted shirt as the wind blew from the west.

His muscular arms hidden in the loose long-sleeved shirt he wore was enough to leave a lot to the imagination. The silky fabric teased a woman, but what made him sinful was his juicy dark pink lips that looked ripe, if only she ...., eyes widening she gaped at the direction of her thoughts.

What the hell is wrong with me, she groaned inwardly. Why was she feeling like this all of a sudden. Why couldn't she stop staring? It was like his body gave off instant heat waves flooding her senses with intimate emotions that she knew was not the time or place for.

There was something in his features and the piercings in his ears that gave a dark impression. He was no average boyfriend material, well not any material, unless it came with lots and lots of heat.

He stood there watching her like he had no deterrence of looking away. Her heartbeat knocked hard in her chest.

THUMP, THUMP. Raging with insanity to get out of its confines, her heart beat was fierce, while his spellbinding gaze sucked the left over adrenaline she had in her. Drained and suddenly light-headed, she hunched herself further toward the floor still gazing at him through a curtain of long lashes with unmasked amazement.

His attention altered, sending the men in the car staggering with one look. Purposely he left the guy on the floor for last as his calm façade diminished. Only to be replaced by a hunting predator with precision and swift movement, because he now stood right in front of the guy Clare had kicked. Her mind told her that he was standing right by her, how was that possible.

The saviours hand grabbed the bald man in a choke hold and lifted the screaming guy effortlessly into mid-air, throwing him away like a piece of trash in the middle of the road. The guys body twisting in the air before it landed on the road made Clare grimace. A loud screeching sound left the man, anguish and regret clear as he screamed, "Sorry lady, I didn't mean it..I..I m sorry."

The words from his lips playing in her head over and over were strained, and she knew it was because of the blood pooling from his mouth.

The amazing stranger then kicked the headlight of the car the men still sat in. Their shock and horror confirmed by their silence was not enough for the extraordinary man. Proving it, he flipped the car over effortlessly, landing it, upside down.

He bent over and asked the guys struggling to get out of the car in an almost bored voice, "Anyone dead, or about to die in let's say 10 seconds from now?" In shock they just nodded.

He stood up and clapped his hands together, "Perfect, guess I'm all good to go."

She was kneeling on the pavement. Her heart feeling like going into cardiac arrest. How could a guy be so strong, move so fast. What was happening to her? This shit was not real, it only happened in movies or books.

Frozen in place, she didn't lift her hands to her face. Clare didn't blink. She wasn't even certain she was breathing. This was too much for her, she couldn't keep up with this. The trio in the church was enough to raise her shackles. This, it was just too messed up, but why wasn't she screaming for help.

Why was she kneeling on the hard rough stone? And why the hell was she staring at him in awe instead of terror?, he did just flip a car like he was turning a bucket over.

The tall stranger looked at her again. Not sure of what she expected to find on his face. She wouldn't have guessed it'd be the annoyed frown marring his brows,

okay then she huffed inwardly.

His voice was gruff, extremely deep, "Try to use a little of your brains next time you have an epiphany." So much power emanating from just a voice, making her ears ache, "South Africa is no place for loafing in the dark, ALONE."

The details of what she saw still played in her head. A scene she'd only seen in a movie, but this was waaay more better, it was so real. In a little tone barely audible and foreign to her own ears, she stammered, "thank y..y..you for your help, I'll just be leaving now."

She looked at him waiting for him to laugh at her stunned expression. When he didn't, she saw his jaw tick. And something told her that was bad, very bad. Strangely enough, however there was no fear in her emotions. Awe, yes, amazement, undoubtedly. But fear, nope, there was none.

Logic told her to be frightened, she should've pissed her pants in fear of this super strong man, but she wasn't scared. As reality soaked in, at how cool it was that she had seen all that, she sighed, giving him a lopsided grin. When he didn't return it, she shook her head, "Too soon I suppose. Are these guys going to be okay?"

He just stared at her like she asked the stupidest question. Which she probably did, because these men that seemed silent to the world wouldn't have shown her the same curtesy. She exhaled with a huff, "Can you please quit staring at me, it's freaky."

The guy arched his brow, as he shook his head. She caught the quick smile, before he muttered "London's left its mark."

"Still American, mostly." She replied.

"You sound like both, get up, I'll walk you back." He didn't help as she struggled, even with the pain noises leaving her lips as she held her bruised shoulder. Limping and not hiding her annoyance of his lack of remorse to her pain, Clare was determined to keep pace behind him.

A thought struck her as she watched him walking up front. This male was somehow connected to those guys at the church, so maybe they weren't as crazy as she first accused. Which meant they were like him, but no, she didn't know what they were, but she was certain no one was like her saviour.

His voice was otherworldly. His lithe predatory walk unseen. And that hair that resembled fire couldn't possibly come from a box, the perfect blend of fire was too distinguishable. But the connection was there. Perhaps they were all different species, or some lab experiment of special ops team. She recalled the word for word article she read a year earlier on genetic mutation. One had to wonder all possibilities when faced with cold hard evidence. In her case really hot evidence.

This particular guy was supernatural somehow, she couldn't quite put a finger on what he might be, not yet anyway. But knowing herself she'd figure it out.

He was almost as tall as Alonso, a little too Gothic to be human. Though, now that she observed him, there was this light that came from him, too weird to wrap her mind around. Her first thought was Angel, but Angels had wings, so that was out. She huffed and swung her arms cringing as her left shoulder protested the movement.

Legs tired and body aching with whiplash, Clare slowed her pace even more, still expecting help from the guy. Cursing when he continued ahead she gave up on his help.

The man didn't turn to see if she was following him, not once. They reached the apartment where she stayed thirty minutes later.

Leaning on the green fencing gate of the entrance to the building he crossed his legs. Hip to the gate, and hands shoved into the pocket of his grey leather pants, which she could see clearly under the spot light, as he waited for her limping form.

She stopped three feet short from him before lifting her leg to get the keys from her boot. Keys in hand Clare looked up at him. Instantly losing her balance, she stumbled barely managing to catch herself as the air escaped her. Gosh, his eyes, she was sure she stopped breathing because it certainly felt like it.

She moved closer, uncaring that he grew completely still with the two steps she took to close the gap. Too entranced by what held her captive.

Blazing hot lava, molten fire, dancing in his gaze, it was a live rhythm of red, orange, yellow and black flames threatening to be unleashed. What the hell is this man? His eyes snapped shut and she realized with dread that she said that out loud, shoot, "Sorry."

When he didn't look at her, knowing it was trite but she had to say something she added, "They are exquisite, like the sun at the height of its brightness." You are exquisite, she completed to herself, with thick brows that are perfectly shaped.

Geared in a grey leather pants and a light shirt that hanged loosely on his body. Whilst a hilt of a dagger stuck out on the right of his pants wrapped in a chain sheath made out of gold and heavy metal. He looked as if he'd been born to wear this attire. It matched him perfectly.

She couldn't say he looked ancient because he wasn't. In fact the world seemed under developed and small for this warrior man.

The tall stranger stood there waiting for her to say something else, was that hope on his face. After what felt like hours getting lost in his lava gaze, she managed to get more control of herself and a thought struck her, "Hey, how do you know where I'm staying, do you know me?"

Clare felt flushed when he tightened his jaw line, his features sharp and pointy. He had the sexiest nose ever, a perfect slope, defining the crease on his lip.

However, the said lips didn't answer her question but warned her instead, "Whatever you saw tonight keep it to yourself, we wouldn't want any awkward occurrences happening."

She frowned staring in to his molten eyes, "What are you anyway?"

He flinched so quickly, she almost missed it, but she didn't, nor did she miss the tension in his shoulders, "lets' just say I'm special."

Unconsciously she touched her shoulder with her right hand rubbing it, "Are the guys I saw at the church like you?"

He smiled as if holding a laugh, "No actually, they a lot like you." He opened his mouth then closed it before a full tooth smile broke out, and holy was he beautiful, "Let's slow down with the questions!"

She blurted, "You not thinking about erasing my memory are you ? I hope not, I've watched some series with that shit and it ain't cool, but on second thought, if I have to choose between that and death, I think I'll go with the first option. Oh gosh I'm rambling. I tend to do that, amongst other things but I'm sure you don't care, I'm not gonna see you again am I."

He looked confused, and going by his slight gapped mouth, well, she wasn't going to look deep into that, "Okay, well."

He shook his mane, naturally to clear his head, "If hypothetically you did supposedly tell anybody, they'd just think your crazy, now that, I've heard of."

Examining her from head to toe he didn't change his pose, "You should eat more," he muttered. She stared at him thinking maybe he was teasing her, but no, the guy was deadly serious.

His gaze paused on her chest, his breathing laboured, "Saving your life was a favour. I'm not interested in bedding you.."

What an arrogant prick, and to think she called him her saviour. Jack ass, she all but screamed in her head, "I asked a simple question. Sex wasn't in my question Angel-boy, and quit staring at my boobs." When he didn't look away, she snarled, "All Braun and no brains, you are more like those crazies from the church than you think."

He was amused by Clare's sudden outburst which just pissed her off more. She ignored him and opened the gate. She walked four steps when he appeared in front of her. Startled, she jumped back, hand on her chest, gawking at him.

His fiery vision burned her with intensity, regret, there was no smiling or amusement now, "I'm sorry, please, I wasn't trying to be rude. Just don't, aah." He turned his back to her, then spun back around, his eyes narrowed, "Don't expect much from me. You'd just be disappointed."

Learning along time ago to hide her emotions she rolled her eyes, belying the lump stuck in her throat, that he actually apologized. He was the first one to ever utter those words to her, "Story of my life Angel-boy. Whatever, it's late. I really just wanna forget this night and I'll keep your secret for saving me and all."

His eyes widened and a worry frown marred his skin. Talking just loud enough that she could hear him, "Put some ice on that."

He looked at her shoulder, "It'll be fine in the morning, You'll see me sooner than you think."

His eyes sparkled with the light reflected from the moon, "Unfortunately for today our meeting is over, the others are waiting for me," he turned his head, hair blocking his face and laughed aloud as though he couldn't believe his words.

Clare laughed a little too, she couldn't explain it, but for some unknown reason she couldn't be upset with the guy. He did save her life even though he was a bit of an arrogant ass.

When she finally paid him more attention it was to notice he'd been staring at her, eyes wide in wonder, lips tight, nostril flared, "Goodbye Clarebella." He bowed his head, turned his back and walked out the gate. Which automatically opened for him.

She wasn't surprised by this, maybe she was too tired or just really good at supernatural shit, she didn't know. The only thing she was certain of as she walked the flight of stairs to the apartment was that he called her, "Clarebella." It didn't sound bad, as she said it out loud. A tad bit too old school for her taste but she could deal.

After sneaking into the apartment she went straight to her room. Another teenager would have run to their parent, but not Clare, this was something she'd deal with herself. Her mother wouldn't know comfort, she wouldn't have the words Clare wanted to hear, she never did.

As Clare stripped and winced at every ache and pain in her body, she was well aware that her mother could fix the physical problems. Michelle Miller was the best general surgeon you could find, but Clare needed something deeper, she yearned for a mother's touch. She wrapped her arms around her naked skin, swallowing the lodge in her throat. "If I can handle not knowing, I can handle anything." She repeated the mantra until her breathing steadied. She wasn't a crier, no matter how bad she wanted to howl at times.

Thirty minutes later she lowered her naked form into the bath tub and relaxed. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think of her strange encounters. But the picture of the guy at the church kept popping in her head. He did look surprisingly similar to her, except for the hair.

There was more to it than that, Clare knew she had seen him somewhere. It was in the past year or so, but where. Then it hit her, it was on the Harvard website. So he was educated after all. She mentally added that to her checkout list, Nathan.

Feeling remotely better once she had on her pink and blue silk pyjamas. She didn't dawdle around the room picking up her clothes, nope, she was wiped and barely managed to put the light off before she threw her body on the bed. Careful not to land on her injured side.

Her shoulder still throbbed from the fall, so she put a cushion underneath it, giving it some support. Clare rested silently in pain, thinking the worst about what would've happened if those guys in the car had taken her. They would've raped and killed her, that was certain. She felt the wetness on her cheek, chastising herself for not paying attention, and now crying about it like a baby. She was blaming it solely on fear of the unknown.

Angel-boys faced popped in her head, he had saved her and for that she'll always be grateful. She was safe in her bed, because god had answered her prayers. Her eyes grew heavy, but not before she realized that god was the answer to all her prayers.