“Thorne, you aren't exactly a patient man, are you?” Melanie asked. “Keep driving and you'll find out.”
As soon as Melanie completed her sentence, a blinding flash of light assaulted their eyes. Eventually the grassy pathway turned into a large neighborhood of elegantly crafted log cabin homes belonging to vampires and werewolves. Thorne looked on in amazement as he shook his head, feeling as though he'd step through some type of void.
“Melanie, what the hell just happened?” Thorne asked. “I'm not feeling too well.” The man said, holding his hand to his head.
“Thorne, it's alright. This area is safely hidden away from those outside our clan. Humans, vampires, nor werewolves can pick up on our location,” Melanie slowly explained.
“So, this is where vampires and werewolves coexist peacefully?” Thorne asked in disbelief. “Come on Melanie, this is ridiculous. What is this, some type of witchcraft?” Thorne asked, admiring how each cabin was nestled among trees. Surely this must have helped vampires avoid extra sunlight slipping through the windows. The neighborhood appeared to be out of some fantasy storybook.
“Be that as it may, don't let father here you say that. He has spent his entire existence maintaining peace among vampires and werewolves. It has worked out well over the centuries.” Melanie spoke proudly.
“Funny how just a few short hours ago, you were ready to run from your father Melanie.” Thorne said.
“Well, perhaps I'm finally listening to my instincts Thorne. It drove me insane to see you two arguing like little kids. I don't know, something just came over me I guess. I'm feeling confused and emotional and I hate those feelings. I like to be in control over my situation. Last night, I felt like I knew what I wanted, needed…Now, I'm not so sure…of anything.” Melanie confessed.
“We've just entered the gate into our clan. You can't sense it because you aren't from…well, there is a reason why that barrier is up, and mother can explain it to you better than I can.” Melanie said hesitantly. “Also, I have reasons why I've avoided my father. He was always so strict with me, and I just couldn't deal with it. Mother has a better understanding of me, and I can relate to her more.”
“Now your father has me curious. I need to learn, to understand how the hell vampires and werewolves exist in peace. It just doesn't seem natural Melanie.” Thorne said, stroking the patch of hair within the cleft of his chin.
Don't worry Thorne, soon enough you will understand things. Now, this is my parents' house Thorne.” Melanie said, pointing to an elegant large three-story log cabin styled home, a myriad of large trees pushing it further into seclusion. In the driveway sat a jeep and a sports car.
“Let me guess, the sports car is your father's, right?” Thorne mused.
“No, actually, the sports car belongs to my mother.” Melanie laughed.
The two got out of the car, and approached the door just in time for it to open. The living room was large, and dimly lit. A hint of coffee, spice, and musk hung heavily in the air, and the wooden walls were adorned with family pictures. Ming vases were displayed proudly, along with a few items from the Victorian era. Thorne felt as though he were stepping back in time to several different cultures.
“Well, it's about time you two finally got here!” Donovan snapped, urging the couple to sit down on the sofa. “Natalie, they're here!” he called out. “Took them a while, but they're here!”
The Jackson's home was a large beautifully crafted maplewood cabin. After crossing over the threshold of the Jackson's home, one would come into contact with exquisite furnishings. Melanie's mother was a collector of Chinese vases, many of them, gifts from Donovan when they lived in China during the Ming Dynasty.
From what Thorne could tell, Donovan and Melanie's mother must have lived for quite some time simply because of the tell tale knick- knacks that simply could not have been from modern times. A beautiful oil painting of Melanie's parents, crafted in a gold Victorian frame tastefully adorned the space over the fireplace. Donovan towered over his wife, looking elegant as ever, held his wife's hand. The background of the oil painting appeared to have taken place in Greece Thorne decided, since they were standing next to a magnificent Greek Parthenon. To the left were sturdy wooden stairs, leading to the third level of the Jackson's beautiful home.
A tall, biracial woman emerged from the kitchen. The expression on her face brightened as she ran to Melanie with open arms. The two women embraced one another for what seemed like countless hours.
“Damn, I didn't get a greeting like that!” Donovan sneered. “I guess my baby girl doesn't love her blood-sucking father anymore.” He said, trying to lay a guilt trip on Melanie.
“Oh Donovan, stop it. You can't blame her for what she's going through.” The woman said.
“This is my wife, Natalie.” Donovan said to Thorne. “Natalie, this is the thorn in my side…um, I mean Thorne, Melanie's…. mate!” Donovan growled deeply, casting a dark look at the young man. Thorne's eyes began to blaze yellow and Donovan's incisors lengthened, his eyes burning blood red.
“Alright, dammit!,” Natalie yelled out loud. “You too will need to work your differences out amongst yourselves! This is ridiculous. Donovan, did you bring them here to argue with Thorne? If you continue to act like a child, I'll treat you like one and throw your ass out of the house! I'm not playing now!
Thorne immediately pulled back, out of sheer concern for Melanie. Donovan acquiesced, even though he was unable to fight the animosity he felt towards Thorne for endangering his daughter. A part of him liked the young man, but Donovan failed to see how the man made it this far as pack leader. Thorne must not have known there was more to his existence than fighting vampires over territory.
“Alright Natalie, but you know my feelings.” Donovan said, calming himself.
“Come on, I've made some coffee for us. Everyone, let's sit so we can discuss things.” Natalie said.
Natalie quickly retreated into the kitchen, returning with a carafe of coffee and four cups on a large tray. An older, lighter version of Melanie, the woman was graceful as she was smart, quickly setting down the tray for everyone to help themselves.
“Now Thorne,” Natalie said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I'm sure you know our Melanie is a hybrid.” The woman smiled proudly, glancing at her daughter.
“Yes ma'am, I just recently found out,” Thorne said, shifting his gaze towards Melanie.
“Has Melanie told you anything else about her heritage?” Natalie asked.
“No Mrs. Jackson, she hasn't.” Thorne said, puzzled. “I understand she is a hybrid, but that doesn't change how I feel about her. I wish her to be my mate, but I need to protect her from Raphael.”
“I'm going to explain something to you young man. Only because of the good I sense within you.” Natalie began.
“Nat, don't do it.” Donovan warned. “What about other vampires who may venture here, trying to start a war? Even worse, what about the hunters?” the brooding vampire asked, tapping his claws on the wooden table.
“Hunters?” Thorne asked, his senses sharpening.
“Yes, humans who hunt vampire and werewolves, or anything else out of the ordinary they feel shouldn't exist.” Donovan sneered. “I've come in contact with many of them in my time.”
“Donovan Jackson, you should know I call them as I see them. I know you're distrusting because that's your baby girl. She's my baby girl too, but he has to know about her.” Natalie insisted.
Thorne glanced over at Melanie, raising an eyebrow. Melanie averted her gaze to the brick fireplace, breaking out into a sweat. Life as she knew it no longer existed. It was now time for her to embrace her ancestry, fully. If she truly intended to accept Thorne as a mate, she would need to be completely honest with him.
“Go on Melanie,” Natalie pushed. “Tell him!”
“Tell me what?” Thorne asked, trying to swallow the huge knot in his throat. An uneasy feeling penetrated his aura, and the blood in his veins turned cold, warning h
im that something wasn't quite right.
“Melanie has magical powers, just like her mother.” Donovan interrupted, his dark eyes fixated upon Natalie's with warning.
“Oh, you mean like that special entrance that keeps these grounds out of plain sight from others outside your clan.” Thorne said, stroking his chin. “Melanie informed me of that when we first arrived. Is that the big secret Mrs. Jackson?” Thorne asked. “I'm no stranger to magic. My grandfather is the Shaman of our clan, and still tries to instill “the old ways” within us.”
“Yes Thorne, Melanie has magical powers.” Natalie said through gritted teeth as her eyes turned black, shooting an “I'll get you later” look at her husband who sat smugly with his arms crossed. “She inherited them through me, a trait our clan possesses.” Natalie said, choosing her words wisely as she picked up on the vibe that now just wasn't the time for Thorne to know of their daughter's true ancestral blood. Aside from Melanie being a hybrid, there was just one more fact Thorne would have to accept.
In addition, when they came on their heat, Melanie and Thorne were to be locked in the steel cage downstairs during the full moon. Thorne would have to pass the test to see if he was worthy of fathering Melanie's pups one day. This was the way of Natalie and Melanie's clan.
Melanie looked over at her father, shooting him a look of relief. Her father had stepped in, saving her from possibly losing Thorne. If he found out the truth of her heritage, it was quite possible he'd never accept her for who and what she truly was. Her entire life she felt she was a freak of nature, although there were other hybrids who accepted their heritage without fail. Somehow, Melanie could never quite come to terms with things. Seeking life as a dancer, she fulfilled her strong powerful sexual lusts with clients, male and female whenever they bought her out. Who would have known her life would change forever after crossing paths with Thorne the evening before. She had half-hoped she would continue dancing, never having to change her life, until she met Thorne Cloudfeather.
“Alright, so that's settled,” Donovan said. “Sun's almost up, and it's time for me to retire,” he said stretching his arms above his head, and exhaling with a sharp hiss. “Come on Natalie. Uh oh, almost forgot. I don't want any hanky panky going on up in my house, is that clear?” Donovan Jackson demanded. “I know you are grown Melanie, but if the urge strikes, take it outdoors!”
Stifling a giggle, Melanie had allowed her father to penetrate her hard shell, and for the first time in years, she felt close to him.
* * * * * * *
“What do you mean you couldn't find them?” Raphael roared at Darius, one of his clan members. Darius, the same height as Raphael growled in anger as Raphael chastised him. His eyes, glowing like golden embers, Darius ran his fingers through his blond hair, which came just above his shoulders. Darius proceeded to explain himself, something he had grown tired of over the past two years.
“I'm telling you Raphael, they disappeared into thin air. Where were you, why weren't you tracking them?” Darius hissed. “I'm not your lackey man!”
“You dare speak to me in that tone Darius? Have you forgotten the times I saved your ass? If it weren't for me, Thorne would have turned you to dust last week!” Raphael spat.
Darius clenched his jaws tightly together, looking through Raphael as though he weren't standing before him. There just seemed to be no respect for a newly turned vampire. Originally from California, the man had been the victim of a car-jacking while traveling through New Orleans. Darius was thrown into the streets, left for dead until Raphael found him and granted him the gift of immortality. Darius, or Jeff McKeegan had very few family members left. After siring Jeff, Raphael named him Darius. Within the next few evenings, Raphael showed Darius how to hunt and kill without mercy. Raphael tracked down the perpetrators responsible for the car jacking, coaxing Darius to take his revenge; reluctantly, Darius did. Everywhere Raphael traveled, he left death and destruction in his wake.
It was much later when Darius regretted his existence as a vampire. Somehow, death seemed much more inviting than the sewers, clubs, and the bayous of New Orleans. Death had to be more inviting than enduring the cruelty of a monster such as Raphael.
“Raphael, why do we never adhere to the pact between you and Thorne? Don't you think life would be easier, and the wolves wouldn't harass us so much?” Darius asked.
“Are you questioning me Darius? I half-agreed to what Thorne wanted. He and his damned brother, Storm nearly wiped out my best vampires! That's the only reason why I turned your sorry ass when I found you half-dead.” Raphael hissed. “So far your service to me has proved useless as tits on a bull!”
Darius hissed, his eyes glowing a pale gold. Raphael swiftly turned, eyes glowing hideously red. Grabbing the newly turned vamp around the neck, he slammed the man against the sewer wall. Darius hissed as his spine cracked against the concrete. In vain, Darius clawed at Raphael's hand, but the man held him fast. He was more powerful, leaving Darius no match for him. Raphael was driven by rage, bloodlust, and pure evil. There was no reckoning with him, and no mercy from him.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip your head from your pathetic body right now!” Raphael growled, drawing blood from Darius' neck. Eventually, he let the man go, but not before cracking his head against the wall, letting Darius know who the boss was. “Next time, I'll dust you myself!” Raphael hissed.
“I'm fucking sick and tired of living in sewers, bayous, and other fucking places a werewolf would never hang out at! I want the girl, his mate!” Raphael spat. Two other vampires from Raphael's clan joined the two men. “I want you all to search hi and low for Thorne and his whore.” Raphael said.
“Are you claiming her for your mate?” Danoir, a tall lanky vampire with short black spiky hair asked. “She's a fine piece of ass.” He added.
“No, I just want to fuck the shit of her before I drain her completely dry. You see gentlemen, this whore is priceless. Her blood…hmm,” Raphael leaned his head back in ecstasy at the thought of his canines driving deep into Melanie's throat. “Her sweet blood will give me powers beyond imagination,” Raphael growled. “You see Darius, while you were out and about, searching hi and low, as you put it. I managed to discover some valuable information about the dancer.
“What type of valuable information?” Danoir asked eagerly.
“She isn't human,” Raphael purred. “I thought I sensed something about her in the club. She was quite vulnerable to my power. If it weren't for Thorne, she'd be mine now. Pity though, I would have had to put her down anyway after discovering her heritage.
Darius' fists clenched tightly together, but relaxed a little as another vampire, Dane gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“What is she then?” Danoir asked.
“She's a fucking hybrid, half vampire, half werewolf,” Raphael answered between gritted teeth. “I struck a deal with a hunter tonight. Parts of her body will be sold on the black market. Her fangs, claws, and anything else deemed valuable by the hunters.” He added. “I've heard talk, here in this city which ultimately led me to the hunter. Her magical body will enhance charms, spells, and curses. The hunter will pay me a hefty price for delivering the hybrid whore to him.” Raphael laughed, bearing his fangs. “It's fucking beautiful and never ceases to amaze me how things always fall into place for me.”
“Why would you do that?” Darius asked. “We are all vampires, how could you sell out your own kind to a hunter? Wouldn't he do the same to you if given half the chance?” Darius asked, shocked and appalled at Raphael. This time the evil blood- sucker had gone too far.
“She's not my fucking kind! She's a fucking hybrid! If she were merely human, I would love to turn her into a full-blooded vampire, but now that I know she is part werewolf! Hell fucking no!” Raphael snorted. “And you need to keep your fucking mouth shut Darius, you're skating on thin ice with me as it is.”
“Alright, so what do we do now?” Danoir asked.
Raphael turned around
, looking the men in their eyes. Having been a vampire since eighteen forty-nine, Raphael adapted quickly to his new existence once sired. Raphael migrated with his family from Europe to start a new life. His catalyst for doing so was money. One unfortunate evening after closing a business deal, he returned to his family, finding them slaughtered mercilessly by werewolves. Losing his mind, Raphael ran screaming like a mad man deep within the woods, disturbing a vampire dining upon a weary traveler. Raphael quickly found himself alone with an empty black void where his heart once beat after that vampire sired him. From that night on, he swore damnation to all werewolves.
“Find her, kill Thorne, and bring her ass to me! It's plain and simple gentlemen. Let's see how baby brother does without the help of his big brother. When we return to New Orleans, I want Storm killed, along with every Wendigo warrior in his pack!” Raphael hissed.
Danoir and Raphael were in all their glory, leaving Darius and Dane looking on in sheer terror. Not only was their leader a raving lunatic, he would be the very thing that would cut their existence short. Most of the members of Raphael's clan were runaways and misfits who had grown up on the streets of New Orleans. They were the society of the lost, meaning; no one missed them, or even cared if they were dead or alive.
Darius and Dane were two vampires who bonded with one another quite easily, never truly fitting in with Raphael's crew. After two years of following the madman's orders, the two decided they had simply had enough. Now what Raphael was asking them to do was simply horrific. Immortality sucked just as badly as life had for them.
Quite often, Dane desired to go to Memphis, Tennessee in search of his so-called family. Bobby Ray had been his human name. Two years ago, Raphael sired and gave him the name, “Dane.” Back then, life as a vampire seemed so enticing, adventurous, and thrilling. Today it seemed filled with despair, death, and darkness…as though they'd been sentenced to hell.
* * * * * * *
As Melanie slept on her queen-sized bed, Thorne familiarized himself with his surroundings. Melanie came from a wonderful family, a family that would have and did give her anything she desired, until her desire for freedom overrode her. The bedroom was fit for a princess. The beautiful four-poster bed was carved out of wood, by Donovan's hands. It was comforting, making him feel as though he were in his own home. A positive aura radiated from all around, unlike the usual negative vibes he sensed in New Orleans. Could it be his clan had fought in vain throughout the years? Up until he met Donovan, he believed he led his pack correctly, now he was unsure. Confusion sat in and he decided later in the evening, he would call Storm to see how things were going back in New Orleans.
Wolf's Obsession Page 4
