Page 1 of Claimed By the Damned

Chapter One

Amara

Soft music filtered through the speakers that were built into the ceiling as Amara Vincent placed another book back on the shelf in its proper place. It was nearly eleven o’clock in the evening, and yet she was still working on closing up the bookshop for the night. The day had been particularly busy, and because of that, she’d had several books to put back and even more orders to place for customers, but she didn’t mind. Business was booming, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to stay at the shop late into the night. Besides, any chance she got at being away from home, she took it gratefully.

Amara was a member of the Cedar Grove shifter pack, and her father, Brad, was the alpha. However, even though he was her father, the two of them had never gotten along. He never showed her love or any kind of compassion. In fact, he treated her more like a burden than anything else. She believed that her father resented her for her mother leaving him to be with her fated mate, and she was sure the only reason he kept her in the pack was out of sheer spite. Though, she could never prove it.

Needless to say, their relationship was rocky at best, and she avoided being in his presence whenever possible, hence all the late nights she spent working at the bookshop.

Between the Covers, her book shop, was her ‘safe-haven’, her home away from home, and had been for the last four years since it came into her possession. It was the only place where she could be whoever she wanted to be instead of being known only as ‘the alpha’s daughter’. The fact that it had originally been her mother’s made it that much more important to her. This place was her pride and joy. Books had always been her escape, and she loved being able to provide that for other avid readers as well.

It wasn’t as big as some of the brand-named bookstores, but it wasn’t considered small either. She made sure that she had a large selection of books in nearly every genre available, and she had them organized in sections to make for easier browsing. Large wooden shelves took up most of the room, all of them overcrowded with books, and a row of computers sat along the far wall for people who needed to do research or look up a particular book. She even had a children’s section with puffy bean bags and stuffies for children to read with.

Amara had designated story times during the week and opened her shop up to school kids after school so that they had a safe and quiet place to go in order to do their homework. She provided snacks, and because the shop didn’t have any kind of staff, parents even stepped up to volunteer some of their time to help out. Her little shop was a staple in the community, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Granted, not having a staff had been intentional on her part. While it was always busy with one thing or another, without other employees, she was able to run things the way she wanted. She was able to make it entirely her own, just the way her mother had wanted her to. It was the only place in her life where she had any control at all, and that meant everything to her. It was the reason she took so much pride in her work.

Once the rest of the books were put away and the orders were placed, Amara opened the register and gathered up the cash in a little pouch to put away in the safe in her office. She only made a trip to the bank once a week because she wanted to make sure she always had change. When that was done, she grabbed the trash bag sitting by her desk and headed toward the back door, stopping occasionally among the shelves to straighten up a book or to put one back into the correct place.

After propping the back door open with the door stop, she crossed the dark lot toward the communal trash dumpster. The lot only had one lamp post, and it had never worked as long as she had been there. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but a part of her didn’t want to know what kind of disgusting stuff hid in the shadows of that lot.

Holding her breath, she quickly lifted the lid to the dumpster and tossed the bag inside. Because she shared the dumpster with a Chinese restaurant, a pet store, and a bar, the smell was horrendous and made her gag most of the time. She continued to hold her breath, hoping to avoid the stench as she turned to go back to her shop, dusting her hands on the backside of her jeans. However, she quickly found her path blocked, and she took a sharp breath of surprise, despite her better judgment.

The man standing in her way was dressed in rumpled clothing that was at least two sizes too big for him. His mousey brown hair was a matted mess, and it looked as if he hadn’t bathed in days. Wild eyes scanned her face, his pupils tiny pinpricks, and he was shifting on the balls of his feet as if he couldn’t stand still.

The scariest part was the fact that the guy had a gun and was pointing it right at her head. Directly between her eyes, to be exact. Her wolf snarled at the perceived danger, but Amara somehow managed to hold her at bay. The existence of shifters was not common knowledge, and she wasn’t about to risk exposure unless it was absolutely necessary.

Instead, Amara froze, barely daring to even breathe despite the rapid, fearful beating of her heart. Her pulse pounded against her ears, nearly drowning out every other sound, as she slowly lifted her hands in front of her. As twitchy as this guy was, she knew that one wrong move would leave her dead on the pavement, and she wanted to avoid that if at all possible.

“I want the cash,” he snarled at her.

Amara blinked, her mind having a hard time thinking clearly when she was staring down the barrel of a gun. “W-what cash?” she stammered after a few moments.

The guy fired the gun against the asphalt by her feet, making her jump and scream at the same time. “Don’t give me that shit! I know how busy that damned bookstore is. I know you got money. Give it to me.”

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, her body trembling in fear. She had never been more scared than she was at that moment, and she was sure she was going to die right here, discarded on the ground like the garbage she had just thrown away.

“I-it’s, it’s in the safe. Inside.”

The twitch of the gun, when he used it to motion for her to go ahead of him, made her flinch, but she swallowed hard as she took a hesitant step in the direction of her back door. She was afraid to make any sudden moves because, while shifters had amazing healing, a gunshot in the right place would definitely still kill her. When he made no move to stop her, she continued forward.

As she moved past him, she had no choice but to turn her back to him, which she had been trying to avoid. Unfortunately, the guy was right behind her, so close she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and she found herself shuddering. Apparently, she was moving more slowly than he would have liked because it wasn’t long before she felt the gun being shoved in between her shoulder blades, and he used it to push her forward. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from crying out.

“Move it, bitch!” he growled impatiently.

“You know, Happy, I’ve always said that, when someone whips out a gun, it becomes a party,” an unknown male voice said matter-of-factly from behind them. Both she and her assailant stopped walking. “But when you point it at a pretty lady, that’s when we have a problem.”

All at once, a wave of relief washed over her. While she knew she wasn’t out of trouble just yet, knowing that she was no longer alone with the guy made her feel better.

“Back off, Knox. This shit doesn’t concern you. We completed our deal,” the man named Happy spat, shoving the gun harder against her back. She winced, and a few more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“When you do this shit around our place of business, it most definitely does concern us,” a second man stated bitterly.

“Man, I ain’t gonna kill the bitch. I just want the money and maybe to rough her up a bit,” Happy said, sounding a little like a pouting child.

“Word to the wise, you may not want to lay all your cards out on the table like that. Especially in front of the person you are trying to rob,” a third man replied, this one with a slight Spanish accent.

Amara briefly wondered how many people were in the alley with her now. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently begging whoever was listening for this whole ordeal to be over with. She had been at the shop for four years without any incident, and she didn’t think Cedar Grove was that bad of a town. Then again, she guessed there were bad apples everywhere.

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