Shifter Claimed Read online

  Shifter Claimed

  ©Copyright A.M. Griffin 2016

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author.

  Also by A.M. Griffin

  Cimmerian Moon

  Against The Darkness

  The Ashes That Remain

  In Danger's Embrace

  Cyborg Redemption

  Saving The Cyborg

  Dark Wolf Enterprises

  Shifter Claimed: A Fated Mates Shifter Romance (Coming Soon)

  Loving Dangerously

  Dangerously Mine

  Dangerously Hers

  Dangerously Theirs

  Dangerously His

  Dangerously Forever

  Dangerously Yours

  The Hunt

  Hunted by the Alien Vampire

  Hunted By The Alien General

  The Game Warden's Mate

  Hunted By The Alien Prince

  The Teague Bride Experiment

  Ramliel: The Teague Bride Experiment (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

  Conh: The Teague Bride Experiment (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

  Zephon: The Teague Bride Experiment (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

  The Undercity Chronicles of Babylonia Jones, P.I.

  Once a Thief, Always a Thief

  The God Killer

  The Guicai Talisman

  The Lycan Job

  It's Not Me, It's You

  The Undercity Chronicles of Babylonia Jones, P.I.: Books 1-2

  The Undercity Chronicles of Babylonia Jones, P.I.: Books 3-4

  Standalone

  Yule's Tyd

  Leporidae Pack

  Mate's Desire

  The Alien King's Desire

  Watch for more at A.M. Griffin’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By A.M. Griffin

  Dark Wolf Enterprises | SHIFTER CLAIMED | A.M. Griffin

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

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  Also By A.M. Griffin

  Dark Wolf Enterprises

  SHIFTER CLAIMED

  A.M. Griffin

  BOOK ONE OF DARK WOLF Enterprises

  Kristof wants to avoid the human at all costs, but his wolf wants her as his own.

  The big break Trudy Hollander’s small accounting firm needs has finally arrived, but unfortunately, it comes with murder, mayhem and Kristof Farkas, a man she just can’t seem to resist. Even worse, Kristof is the CFO of Dark Wolf Enterprises—and is the one person who can pull the plug on the job that will take her company to the next level.

  Then there are the assassins who can jump from three stories up and still be able to run away...

  Kristof has no intention of giving in to his inner wolf and claiming Trudy. She’s human. Too fragile to withstand being a shifter’s mate. But the need to protect her is stronger than his resolve, and his desire is more powerful yet. He’ll fight with everything he has to keep her safe, both from those who would hurt her and from himself.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the real Piper Lynn Griffin. She was the best dog a family could ever have. She will live on forever in our hearts and in the literary world. We love you deeply. Run free and wild in doggy heaven, my sweet fat girl.

  March 2003 – October 2016

  Chapter One

  Trudy crouched underneath her desk. With each scream that punched through the door to her office, she cowered farther into the back corner.

  The evening had started off perfectly normal. At five o’clock she’d heard the exchanges of ‘good bye’ and ‘good night’. Some of her employees had stopped by her desk, the only one in the small suite that she rented in a building on the outskirts of downtown Jacksonville, Florida. Lucia Black, her office manager and assistant, had been the last one to leave the office. She had visited briefly to talk about the blind date that her mom had set her up on, and she’d asked Trudy about her plans, which were always the same, working. There wouldn’t be a fancy dinner with a hot guy for her. Trudy had prepared to pull an all-nighter on a project for a new client.

  Trudy didn’t mind the long hours and weekends she’d given up to complete the job. Getting it done fast and right was her main priority. It also meant the possibility of more work from Dark Wolf Enterprises, a multi-billion-dollar private investment firm, being shifted her way. And there was a clause in the contract between Dark Wolf Enterprises and Hollander Accounting that outlined the bonuses Trudy would receive if the work was completed before the deadline. Trudy didn’t intend to rush through the account, but she did intend to get the twenty-thousand-dollar bonus for finishing the job within the month.

  After the lights had dimmed, she’d gotten out of her comfy leather office chair for only a second. The muscles in her legs, knotted from hours of sitting, objected, but if she didn’t close her office door she would be disturbed by the loud music and talking from the cleaning crew when they came in.

  They’d been and gone, not disturbing her at all. She’d told them before to leave her alone if they found her working late in her closed office. When the noise from beyond her door had died down and it was silent once more, she had pressed on, eager to work through the audit in complete silence. No further distractions.

  Two hours later everything had gone to Hell on a rocket.

  An exchange of voices had been the first thing to capture her attention. The noise from the rows of cubicles on the other side of the door hadn’t started out as blood-curdling screams. No. First, there had been talking, loud enough that she could hear the voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said. She was used to some of her employees staying late to finish assignments, but she’d assumed everyone had gone home. Only a few of her seven employees would stay to work this long after quitting time. She’d recognized one of the voices as belonging to Mark Taylor.

  Mark was one of the accountants she’d hired a year ago, when business had really begun to pick up. Normally, he was a quiet man. He came to work every day in a formal shirt with matching tie, dress slacks and dress shoes, even though her dress code policy was pretty casual. He had a wife, Alice, and a special needs kid, Ernie, at home. If Trudy needed someone to do overtime on any projects, she knew he was the man. The hospital and specialist bills racked up for Ernie, so he and Alice needed all the extra income they could get.

  While the lateness of his working hours wasn’t unusual for him, the yelling and arguing definitely was. When she’d first heard Mark’s voice booming through the office, questions arose in her mind. Who was he yelling at? Was he argu
ing with another employee? She didn’t think so. She had a pretty small staff and everyone got along great. Plus, she really couldn’t recognize any of the other voices, which had distinctive foreign accents. What were Russians doing here? She didn’t have any Russian employees or clients.

  Realizing she would have to stop working and investigate, she got up with the intent of kicking Mark and his rowdy guests out. With her hand on the door, ready to turn the knob, she had frozen in place at the sound of a scream.

  It wasn’t a normal ‘I fell down and I need help’ scream. No, it had been more like an ‘I’m being killed’ scream. At that point, she’d done what any good, law-abiding coward would’ve done. She’d run and hidden.

  “Don’t kill me! I swear I’ll get it for you!” Mark’s pleas snapped her attention back to the present.

  Whimpering, she put one shaking hand over her mouth. She’d been listening to him beg for his life for the past three minutes. She knew the exact time, because she’d also kept her eyes on her smart watch. The three minutes had felt like three hours. When another bloodcurdling scream had rung out, her other hand tightened around the cell phone that she’d held in her sweaty grasp.

  “Ms. Hollander, are they still there?” the male on the other end of the line asked. He was so calm, but his calmness didn’t penetrate the airwaves to relax her.

  After she’d cowered safely underneath her desk, her next action had been to grab her phone and call the police. Since then, the dispatcher had kept her on the line and sane while he promised the police were on their way.

  “Y-y-yes,” she whispered. Prickly heat and sweat formed across her hairline.

  “Hold tight, the police are downstairs. They’ll be there soon.”

  She closed her eyes and said a small prayer. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  “She isn’t here,” Mark cried out. His voice sounded wet and there was no mistaking the pain laced through every word. “She went home early.”

  She opened her eyes wide. Who is he talking about? Was someone else in the office involved in this madness? Before she could run off the names of her female employees in her head, Mark screamed again.

  “I promise I can get to the files without harming her,” Mark strained to say.

  “Not good enough,” A thickly-accented man replied, the same one who’d done most of the talking. “We need her dead. A message must be sent.”

  Who dead? What message?

  Mark screamed in agony again.

  She could figure out what was going later, after Mark was saved. Trudy sniffed and ran an arm across her dampened forehead. Help was coming. Whoever was beating up Mark would be caught and jailed.

  “Ms. Hollander, are you still with me?”

  “I’m here,” she whispered. “They want to kill someone—a female.”

  “Don’t you concern yourself with that now,” the dispatcher said. “The police are right outside the door of your business.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’re going to hear a lot of loud noise,” the dispatcher continued. “Some yelling, and you might even hear some gunfire.”

  “Guns?” she asked shakily.

  Her desk was made out of thick wood, but it definitely wouldn’t stop a bullet. She pressed herself into the ‘V’ of the back corner.

  “Try not to worry. Your job is to stay exactly where you are and don’t move. The officers know there are civilians in the office. The guns are a last resort.”

  “Okay.” She tried to sound brave when all she wanted to do was get the hell out of her office and as far away from all of this as she possibly could. Her heart slammed against her chest so hard that it hurt to breathe.

  “That’s my girl. Don’t worry, we’ll get the bad guys.”

  She had a small office. There was one way in and one way out. Whoever was in here was trapped. Or rather, she was trapped. Her breath hitched. What if the bad guys wanted to take her and Mark as hostages?

  Shit.

  She eyed the window. Remembering it was three stories up with parking lot pavement below quickly changed her mind about its viability as an exit. Even if she wanted to use it as an escape, it was out of the question.

  A loud crash and shattering glass made her jump. She held her breath. This was it.

  “Police! Put your hands up!”

  They’re here. It’s safe.

  “There’s no way out. It’s over!”

  That’s it. Put your hands up and walk to the police. Let them handcuff you and take you to jail.

  A rapid succession of what sounded like fire-crackers rang out. Shots.

  She used her free arm to shield her head. Another loud crash. The noises that had been distant and muffled before were now loud and clear.

  Holy shit. They broke down my door.

  She heard heavy breathing and footsteps running into her office.

  “Over there! Window!” She recognized the voice as the one who’d been arguing with Mark. Or perhaps torturing him was a better description.

  Those are the bad guys.

  She held her breath as she watched two males run up to her window. There they tore down the venetian blinds with one tug, sending the mangled mess to the floor in front of her. She pressed her hand to her mouth to suppress the scream that was just behind her lips.

  Now wouldn’t be the right time to tell the pair that the window wasn’t an option, especially since being three stories off the ground didn’t seem to matter to them. Without hesitating, they opened the sliding glass, tore out the screen and jumped over the ledge, one following the other.

  She felt no urge to run to the window to make sure the men were all right. The thought of seeing two splattered bodies painting the parking lot red kept her rooted in place.

  There were more footsteps. Men ran toward the window. She recognized the dark blue uniform immediately. Cops.

  “They jumped. Are they dead?” she whispered to the two police officers.

  The cops didn’t turn around to glance at her. Their attention remained outside. “Where the hell did they go?” one asked the other.

  “Wait, see that? Over there. Is that them?” the other asked in disbelief, pointing into the distance.

  “How the hell did they survive the jump and run away?”

  “They’re not dead?” she asked again, louder.

  Noticing her for the first time, the police officers turned to look around the room.

  She waved her free hand in front of her face. “Down here,” she said, still not making any moves to leave her safe haven.

  As one officer began talking into a walkie-talkie, giving a description of the leaping pair, the other came toward her and crouched. “Ms. Gertrude Hollander?”

  Her lips quivered as she tried to smile. “Trudy,” she corrected him. She hated her full name.

  “Trudy, come out. It’s safe now,” the officer urged.

  Safe?

  Her hands still shook uncontrollably. She sure didn’t feel safe.

  “You’re in good hands, Ms. Hollander. I’m going to disconnect the call now,” the dispatcher on the other end of her cell phone said.

  She held the phone up to her ear, too afraid to give up her lifeline so easily.

  “Hang up? Should I stay on the line?” she asked the dispatcher.

  “Everything is fine. Hang up. You did a good job,” the dispatcher said.

  “Okay, then,” she said, even though she really didn’t want to disconnect.

  She lowered the phone from her ear and terminated the call.

  “I should have asked him his name,” she said, staring down at the home screen picture on her phone. Blue skies and blue ocean, with a glimpse of the mountains in the background. It was a snapshot of Montego Bay, Jamaica. She’d gone there as a college graduation present. Her parents had raided their savings to send her, and it had been her last vacation. Oh, how she wished she was there now. “I should thank him for staying on the line with me. What does one do in situations
like this? Gift basket? Flowers? Fruit basket?”

  The officer held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Come on out. Don’t worry about the dispatcher, it’s his job.”

  Surely he didn’t get many calls like hers. “I still...” She bit her lower lip.

  “Come on,” he said.

  With his coaxing, she crawled from underneath her desk, phone in hand. The officer helped her to her feet.

  He eyed her up and down. “Are you okay? Did they harm you?”

  She shook her head and gave a weak smile. “No, no, I’m fine.” A shiver ran down her spine. Suddenly, she felt so cold. She wrapped her arms around her body, but the coldness remained. “How is Mark? It sounds like they were working him over pretty good. He may need an ambulance.”

  The officers exchanged quick glances.

  “They had him out there.” Trudy nodded to the main office. “If you didn’t see him, he’s probably hiding under something like I was.”

  “Ma’am, why don’t you have a seat?” The officer who’d helped her from under her desk pulled up a chair. Even though she didn’t want to sit, she found her bottom planted firmly on the soft leather.

  “Can the paramedics come up now?” A voice crackled from the officer’s walkie-talkie.

  The other officer turned his back to her and said, “Send the coroner.”

  Coroner? Mark’s dead?

  She swiveled toward her broken-down office door and panicked. “No, he was just alive. I heard him talking...screaming...begging...”

  Her stomach lurched and the Greek chicken salad she’d had for lunch came up with force. It must’ve been the warning look on her face, because the officer grabbed her small waste basket and held it under her chin just as vomit erupted from her throat.

  “Ugh.” Another forceful eruption was followed by another, and yet another. Her stomach knotted in pain and her throat burned. “No, please tell me this didn’t happen,” she cried. She clutched the waste basket for support.

  She vaguely heard the officer ask someone to hand him a napkin. He spoke to her in calming tones as he wiped her mouth and removed the basket from her clutches.