Page 11 of The Claiming

“In one week’s time there is, well, a challenge for want of a better word, that may be the answer to your problem.”

“I’m listening.”

She leans forward as I lean back, enjoying the power I hold, increasing her impatience.

“Spit it out, Frankie.” She goads and I nod, sipping my own double espresso as I stare directly into her eyes.

“It’s called The Claiming and happens after dark in the dungeons.”

“The what and where?” Siri’s eyes shine with excitement as I knew they would. When you exist in our world, darkness resembles a comforting friend, and I have said two words that she will adore. Dark and dungeon.

Her friend says nothing and her expression doesn’t change and I wonder what she’s thinking now.

Siri interrupts my thoughts.

“What does it involve?”

“It’s an ancient tradition that has been a forgotten one until I revived it yesterday.”

“That figures.” She rolls her eyes. “I repeat, what does it involve?”

“An equal number of guys versus girls meet at the entrance to the dungeon. The girls get five minutes head start to navigate a way out of there. There is a tunnel many believe was dug by a band of desperate prisoners that leads to the river. If the girl reaches the other side evading capture, she is free.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Siri whispers.

“Then she is claimed by the first guy who reaches her.”

“As in?”

She sounds worried, and I relish her fear.

“Claimed for the semester. They become an entity. They don’t look at another and spend all their free time together, unless they agree to a hall pass to hang with friends or attend clubs or study. They hang at parties and have one another’s best interests at heart the entire time and are chained, if you like, to one person.”

“Like girlfriend and boyfriend.” Siri chews on her bottom lip.

“But what if someone gross claims you? What happens then?”

“You do your best to win, Siri. You can’t be claimed if you escape, remember that, and you earn your freedom of choice.”

“This claiming sucks. I’m out.”

Siri glares at me with defiance and her friend is like a locked book beside her. I can’t figure out her thoughts on this because her expression hasn’t changed once during the entire conversation.

“That is your choice, Siri. Take part in the ceremony and hope a decent guy claims you, or if you make it to freedom, it’s with the knowledge that every single guy on campus regards you with my warning ringing in his ears.”

I lean forward and fix her with my usual sinister smile.

“I will hurt anyone who touches you.”

Her face pales and her breathing intensifies and as she digests this information, I turn to her friend and regard her with interest.

“What about you?”

She sets the cup down and shrugs.

“We’re not talking about me. I have no restrictions on my freedom and I can do what the fuck I like.”

Her eyes flash as she deliberately swears, my earlier warning to Siri thrown back in my face.

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