FATED MATE

CHAPTER ONE -STRANGE THINGS

Blood.

How was he hurt? When did it happen? He winced as the side of his waist ached.

He looked down at the palm of his hand after he had dabbed his palm on the side of his waist. He regretted why he hadn't let anyone from his company escort him. After all, he hadn't seen the need to. He was enough. He took a swerve, looking behind him again. He should lose the men following behind him, he thought.

He winced as he took another bend, dodging an oncoming vehicle. Can he go on like that? Driving like an insane man? Ahead of him, the road stretched on with bright street lights illuminating the road.

A group of dancers were dancing beside Penguin Bar... Penguin Bar? That should be it. He drove down the side of the road, got out of his car, and took off his suit, turning inside to the outer side. They wouldn't notice him after all he had lost them, he assured himself.

He passed by the hefty man by the door with a nod. A young brown-haired woman and a black-headed man stood at the counter. He would only grab a drink, maybe a vodka, and scout around as he passed some time till he was fully sure he could return home.

"Buy whatever you want, Jamal, and leave." Marina rolled her eyes as she served another cocktail drink.

Jamal wore a smirk on his face, biting his lower lip as he fixed a star on her. He sat on a stool before the counter, his fingers tapping on the hardboard. "You know I'll show you the world. Why do you keep refusing me? You hurt my pride." He chuckled.

The door opened and a man in a peach shirt and black trousers walked in. He held a silver linen jacket or was it a jacket? at his side. He had dark-headed, fine-sculptured eyes with such an awesome height. His face was hard as he strode to the counter.

"I'd like some vodka." He said, taking a glance at Jamal beside him.

Jamal had a cold scowl on his face. Was he intimidated by the man's height and dashing looks? Marina returned her gaze to the stranger. He was new, that Marina knew.

"Alright," Marina nodded at him, turning to have his drink ready.

"That's some suit, you've got there.., Brioni, one of the class," Jamal said, a hand of his tapping the hardboard.

Marina pushed the stranger's drink towards him and watched as he took the drink to his mouth. Was he a snob too for not replying to Jamal?

"You are not from around here, are you?" Jamal put in.

He turned to look at Jamal again, then looked away.

He was a snob, Marina thought again, watching him. Then, her eyes ran down the torso of his body, the part where he'd pressed his suit to his side. She saw smudged stains of ...red.

Her heart jumped up frightfully. Was that blood? Was he injured? She moved closer towards him until he was looking at her questioningly.

He had colored eyes like those of the fireflies, which was unusual. "Are you alright, sir?" She asked, pointing to his waist.

He looked down at his waist, then back at her. His hand reached down to his suit, trying to cover the rest of his waist. He suddenly shot her a smile that had Jamal scoffing.

"I'm quite alright.", he said.

"I could get some items for treatment. I learned some of these skills back at home. My mum was a nurse." She put in, concerned.

His eyes were hard, still questioning. She wondered what he would think of her. Why didn't she mind her business? all, he could be a criminal dressed in a costly suit.

"Go get it." He gave a slight nod, finally accepting.

Marina turned around quickly. She waved at Jamal, who was looking at her skeptically.

"Where are you off to?" Jamal brushed back his hair, standing up.

"Are you my bodyguard, Jamal? If you want anything, my partner, Harris, will attend to you." She pointed at Harris. Harris was at the end of the counter attending to other customers.

"I don't need Harris, you know that," Jamal put in.

"Then you certainly don't need me, Jamal," Marina said to him, walked down to Harris to say something to him, then left.

Five men walked in looking around. Jamal took a peek behind him, eyeing the men. The men were almost 5 feet tall. The tallest of them had a thin, long scar down the side of his face.

"What the hell?" Jamal muttered. "Where do strange men keep coming from?"

Jackson looked behind him, his eyes slightly bulged. He had lost them. How on Earth had they found him?

"Rest assured, they are not here for you," Jackson said to Jamal, drowning the rest of his drink.

Jackson could see the look of surprise in Jamal's eyes. Jamal must have been surprised that Jackson was talking to him.

Jackson stood up quickly. He must leave, he told himself, before the men catch sight of him. But his aura gave him away. As he took a step towards his escape, in the very crowded room, one of the men recognized him.

"That's him right there!" one shouted.

Jackson made way to run down to the other side, to avoid the men racing towards him. Another set of three men dressed in black stood up from their seats.

Jackson chuckled. They had been there all along, waiting for the perfect time. Jackson stepped back, taking in the scene. Eight men were coming to him, most of them with clubs in their hands. Jackson picked up the nearest seat beside him and threw it towards them. It flew over them and landed on another table.

The men caved in towards Jackson and started throwing punches at Jackson. Jackson threw back his jacket at the counter while he tried to fight off the men. He would dodge and throw back a punch or two. People began to scream and run to shelter.

One of the men hit him on his back from behind, Jackson gasped. Another hit him on his injury, and Jackson fell to his knees in a scream. Another hit landed on the back of the head, his head swirled in circles as he fell to his face.

He heard faint voices, his head managed to look up. Was that Jamal fighting one of the men? Why can't that man ever mind his business? He was roughly pulled up by three of the men.

"You know this man?" One of the men asked Jackson, pointing at Jamal. "Who is he?"

Jackson shut his eyes briefly, the man had a terrible breath. He turned to look at Jamal, who they had also rough handled.

"OK, you won't answer?" The man grinned, took out a pistol, then walked over to Jamal, pointing it to Jamal's head.

"No, no, no.. please. I beg of you. I don't know him. I was only helping him." Jamal had his hands clasped, begging for his life.

"Please, say something." Jamal's eyes pleaded with Jackson.

The scarred man grinned and then pulled the trigger. Poi!!!!!

The whole place went still. Jackson was in shock for a split second. What had just happened? His head spun as he tried to grasp what was transpiring.

The scarred man with the gun blew off the smoke which was emanating from the gun. "Take him to the car," he said to the rest of the other men.

As they dragged Jackson away, Jamal's open eyes kept staring back at him. Jackson didn't know Jamal from anywhere. They were never well acquainted. He was just a stranger from the bar. His anger began to build, his blood rising. A stranger dying in his stead? That had never happened before.

He began to growl inaudibly. His body began to build in such a way that the men pulling him stopped and stepped back. Jackson growled loudly as his wolfish ears, claws, and fangs grew out.

As soon as he fully transformed, he slapped the men off his sides. The men flew off to the far side of the room while the rest of the men stared back in shock.

"What in the world?" The scarred man mumbled, stepping back in fright.