Page 2 of Claimed By the Damned

Despite the pounding in her ears, she could hear the other men approaching the two of them, and the gun suddenly moved away from her back. On instinct, she glanced over her shoulder, and time seemed to stop for a moment. The guys approaching them stopped in their tracks as her eyes widened through her tears. Even her wolf stopped snarling for a moment and cocked her head in interest.

Quickly, Happy wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her against him, pressing the gun against her temple this time. It happened in a matter of a second. “I’m getting my fucking money, assholes,” he sneered, his rancid breath brushing her face. “This place is loaded with it. I know it is.”

One of the men lifted his hands in a calming gesture before he reached into the pocket of his tight-fitting jeans. His calm, kind brown eyes never left hers as he moved. “If it’s money you want, you can have this.” When his hand emerged from his pocket, he had a wad of cash clenched between his fingers. He held it out toward Happy.

For several moments, Happy seemed unsure of what to do. Amara could feel him glancing between the guys and the cash for what felt like an eternity. After a while though, he seemed to make up his mind, and he released her neck long enough to make a grab for the cash.

In a blink, the larger of the three men grabbed Happy’s arm, just as his grubby little fingers closed on the money, and yanked him forward. At the same time, the man who had the money clutched her around her waist and pulled her out of the way. He cradled her against his chest, as if protectively, while the larger man snapped Happy’s neck with just a flick of his wrists. Happy crumpled to the ground in a heap, and the alley finally fell quiet.

Amara could only stare, her breath caught in her throat, as the man who just killed Happy knelt next to his body and tugged on the dead guy’s earlobe. “Damn it, now I have to find a new dealer,” he muttered before letting out an exasperated breath.

He then rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his baggy jeans, and turned his head in her direction. She watched as his pupils seemed to dilate, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “Well, aren’t you just a lovely little bunny?”

She couldn’t bring herself to speak, unsure of what she would even say. She had just seen him kill a man, and he was acting as if it were no big deal. Her body was still trembling against the man holding her, and her mind was seemingly in shock. So, instead, she took a moment to get a good look at her saviors.

The one who had killed Happy was tall and rough-looking, and there was a crazed and wild air about him. He had blond hair that was tied back at the base of his neck in a man bun and beautiful blue eyes. He was muscular, almost intimidatingly so, and covered in tattoos. The white A-shirt he wore displayed the intricate designs that covered both of his arms and the tops of his hands, and they continued over his chest, back, and shoulders. He had his lip pierced, and through his tight-fitted shirt, she could see the balls of nipple piercings. He also had an angry scar running down the left side of his face, which gave him an even more dangerous look.

The one holding her was Hispanic with dark brown hair and deep, kind brown eyes. He too was muscular, though not as muscular as the first, and seemed to care more about his appearance. His hair was freshly cropped and styled, and his face was clean-shaven. His button-down shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and the top few buttons were undone, revealing a smooth, tanned chest.

The third man was the tallest of the three, and he had black hair and gorgeous green eyes, punctuated by an eyebrow piercing. His skin was sun-kissed, and both arms held full sleeves of tattoos. While he hadn’t said or done anything throughout this ordeal, he was the one who gave her pause. Mainly because he was looking at her as if she were the scum beneath his feet, which didn’t make any sense.

Movement in front drew her attention, and her eyes darted back to the first man as he moved toward her. The killer. Her body stiffened on instinct, and she fought with the urge to flee with every step he took.

“You’re scaring her more than she already is, Knox,” the Hispanic stated with an audible eye roll.

Knox just grinned. “Good. I like them more when they are scared.”

She could tell by the feral grin that the guy was crazy, plain and simple. He was unhinged, completely off his rocker. But, he did save her. That had to count for something, right?

Amara fought her fear and swallowed hard, her throat drier than a desert during a heat wave. “Th-thank you,” she managed to say. She looked back at the man holding her and then over at the other standing off to the side with his arms folded. “All of you. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” the Hispanic replied, giving her a lazy smile before continuing. “What’s your name, Princesa?”

“Um, Amara.”

“Nice to meet you, Amara. I’m Zeke.” He nodded toward the man now standing in front of them. “Knox you’ve already been introduced to, and that’s Drake.” He nodded toward the third man then. “The three of us own the bar.”

The fact that they owned the bar across the lot explained why they were there in the first place. They had probably heard the gunshot despite the noise from the bar because of their supernatural hearing.

Now that her fear was beginning to subside a bit, her wolf was able to deduce that the three of them were rogue shifters, or shifters without a pack. She had never met a rogue before, and they weren’t anything like she imagined. The fact that they were rogues also didn’t make any sense, considering what her wolf believed them to mean to her.

“Hi,” she muttered. She didn’t say that it was nice to meet them because, given the circumstances leading to the encounter, it wasn’t. She then looked back up at Zeke, who seemed to be the calmer, more rational of the three. “You, uh, gonna let me go anytime soon, or…?”

“I say we keep her,” Knox chimed in, reaching up and pinching a strand of her hair between his fingers.

“What he means to say is: Why don’t you come up to our apartment and have something to drink to calm you down first?” Zeke added.

It didn’t go unnoticed that Zeke still hadn’t released her. His arm held tightly around her thick waist from the side. Instead of responding, however, she pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure she liked the fact that every nerve ending in her body seemed to come alive beneath his touch.

“I appreciate it, but I’m… I’m okay.”

“Zeke, just let the girl go so we can take care of this shit before anyone comes out here,” Drake ordered gruffly. When she looked over at him questioningly, he turned away from her with a deep frown.

Drake didn’t seem to be too happy, and she got the distinct impression that it wasn’t just because of the dead drug dealer on the ground in front of them. He was upset at her; she just didn’t know why. She hadn’t done anything, but that didn’t seem to matter.

Zeke finally released her but seemed to ignore Drake altogether. He gently grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him, dipping his head so he could look into her eyes. “You are in no state to drive,” he told her, his tone soft but firm.

“Come on, little bunny. We don’t bite,” Knox said, stepping up beside them and running his finger down her cheek. His touch made her shiver, which clearly didn’t go unnoticed as his smile grew. “Well, maybe we do a little.”

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