"You're telling me!" Donovan exclaimed, shaking his head. "Well, that's my baby Nat and our daughter Mel. You both are my sacred gifts from above, and I really couldn't imagine my existence without you two." Donovan said, looking out the window so his mate wouldn't see the small tear forming in his obsidian eyes.
Gently brushing his dreadlocks aside, Natalie beamed at the man whom she spent several centuries with. Donovan was a hard assed vampire, never letting his gentle nature, with the exception of his humorous side show through to others. Natalie knew that.
"Donovan, are you..."
"Don't you even say it woman!" Donovan snapped at his Edolonian wife. Natalie giggled, planting a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. She began to laugh hard when Donovan muttered something under his breath about locking her in the basement on the next full moon, and chaining her to the wall.
"You both are amazing," Storm said. "It does my heart well to see two beings in love, despite their origins. I only wish Thorne hadn't hurt Melanie's feelings," he said regretfully.
"Your brother is something else," Donovan said. "I like the boy, but he has so much growing up to do. I swear for cheese and crackers, you two are like night and day. Yin and Yang," Donovan added.
"Yes, this is true, maybe one day, he will wise up. Thorne is a wonderful leader, when he's focusing properly on things. It hurt me to strip him of clan leader, but what else can I do?" Storm asked, turning to Jay.
"You've done the right thing, it's all up to Thorne now." Jay said patiently. "Don't worry yourself over it, what's done is done. Things will fall into place, as they should," the wise medicine man suggested coolly.
"Storm, do you have a mate?" Natalie asked innocently.
"No, but I used to, fifty years ago," Storm said, his voice slowly trailing off. "She died from an attack from another wendigo, whom I killed with great pleasure." Storm said, as bitter anger rose within his throat.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Natalie said, feeling the man's pain. She turned around in the passenger seat, reaching for Storm's hand in reassurance. "Have you ever thought of seeking a new mate?" She asked.
"Yes, I have, but….Storm exhaled. "You know Mrs. Jackson, I'm just not ready, not even for my clan, I cannot seem to take another."
"Storm, that will happen when you're ready for it buddy, don't you worry." Donovan said. "I met Nat when I least expected to. I was so lonely, and miserable, I had briefly at one point in my existence thought of embracing the dawn." Donovan said.
"I guess that is why I'm so angry at Thorne," Storm explained. "Here, he has been blessed with someone who loves him and cherishes him, and he turns on her." Storm said angrily.
"You mustn't be so hard on him. Thorne was just devastated, but Melanie should have been honest with him to begin with. From the first time they met, she led him to believe she was only human. She never spoke of her father and myself. She hurt me slightly with that Donovan." Natalie confessed.
"Tell you what, when we find her, I'll ground her until she's….fifty!" Donovan joked, trying to make his mate laugh.
"Smart ass!" Natalie growled, hitting the man she loved playfully on the arm.
"Hey, I need to stop here," Donovan said to everyone. "Isaac and Brady, a couple of our good friends own this bar. Nat and I used to hang out with them back in the day. Perhaps they can contribute to the information we already have on this hunter," Donovan said eagerly.
"Mind if I come in with you Donovan"? Storm asked.
"Sure son, not at all," Donovan grinned, briefly wishing Melanie had met Storm instead of Thorne. Then suddenly, remorse kicked Donovan in the ass, because Thorne reminded him of someone he used to know in his human and younger existence. Himself. That's why the two always butted heads when in close proximity of one another.
Jay, Nat, we'll be back as soon as I can get some information. After that, I'll be able to find our baby girl. Between myself and these fine gentlemen, we'll find her, then I'll rip the hunter's heart out with my bare hands," Donovan promised, as his eyes glowed a feral red.
* * * * * *
The smokey filled bar was deserted, with the exception of a few guys shooting pool. Donovan called out to a bald headed black man sporting an expensive looking black suit with white pinstripes. A scruffy-looking white man with scraggly long blond hair wearing suede moccasins, with fringes, faded blue jeans, and a tie-dye shirt acknowledged Donovan. Both men looked as though they stepped right out of the seventies. Both were vampires, comrades who would gladly give Donovan the shirt off their backs if he needed them to.
"Hey man," Brady Jorgensen said, squeezing Donovan tightly. "Damn, where you been man?" the blond man asked. Brady looked up to Donovan in so many ways, especially after Donovan had sired him during the Vietnam War. The young man had accidentally discovered Donovan's secret, and kept it. Six months later, when the Vietcong attacked their outfit, Brady had been pumped full of ammo. Quickly, Brady had given Donovan his permission to sire him, and Brady never regretted his choice.
"I've been around, I've been around." Donovan said laughing, and hugging his other buddy, Isaac Dayze. Isaac had also served beside Donovan and Brady, but unlike Brady, Isaac and Donovan met one another back in the thirties, when he and Natalie owned Club Wolfen in New York City. The club was a smash, and eventually, Natalie and Donovan retired, selling it to the Santini Clan, an Italian family of vampires with whom they were still friends with.
"You are looking good my man, looking good." Isaac laughed.
"Guys, this is Storm Cloudfeather, a good friend of the family." Donovan said.
"Hey, nice to meet you, wolf brother," Brady said, shaking the tall man's hand.
"What's up man?" Isaac asked with a concerned look on his face. "What brings you to these parts? Oh, wait a minute, something's going on, what's wrong Donovan?" Isaac asked, sharply inhaling. "I can smell it, something ain't right!”
"Melanie has been taken by a vampire hunter. From what Storm tells me, this guy is a new player in town. You know anything?" Donovan asked, hopping up on one of the pool tables.
"Yeah, his name is Kyle Sway. He's some geek from out West who has these fancy gizmos and such, used to track….hybrids." Isaac said reluctantly. There is a market for hybrid parts, and their fur is worth it's weight in gold." The husky man dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling sorry for his long time friend.
"What can we do to help you man?" Brady asked. "Say the word, and you've got it."
"Well, we need the back up. I know Storm and his clan can track Raphael, but we don't want to go in unprepared. Where I come from, hunters are never unprepared," Donovan sneered.
"Can you sense Melanie?" Storm asked Donovan.
"No, I can't, and that's what's pissing me off. In my gut, I know she's alive."
"The bastards probably put a cloaking spell around their hide-out." Isaac huffed. "These cats are close to witch doctors and other practitioners of the dark arts, so they know their game. But that's alright. You see, I have a few tricks up my sleeve too!" Isaac said, patting the pocket of his suit.
"Oh, Isaac man, you are way cool!" Brady laughed.
“My grandfather was a Bokor, born and raised in New Orleans in the Eighteenth Century.” Isaac grinned slyly. As a boy, he taught me some real cool tricks, and since I became a vampire, they are more powerful than ever,” Isaac snickered. “His knowledge may actually save our asses.”
“When did you become a vampire?” Storm asked.
“I was sired by my main man over here in nineteen twenty-nine,” Isaac grinned, gesturing towards Donovan. “Oh yeah, there is much history between all of us.” Isaac continued.
“Yeah man, Donovan saved my ass when in Vietnam. We’re like family, you know, so his fight is our fight. Anyone fucks with Donovan, his clan, or his family has to deal with us.” Brady said, lighting up another cigarette.
The men continued talking, putting a plan into place….
* * * *
Thorne angrily smashed the tin trash can wi
th his foot, causing it to buckle. He was pissed because they searched the city in vain. Thorne cringed at the thought of someone killing Melanie.
“You mean to tell me, you traced her all the way here from New Orleans, but you can’t sense her now?” Ronnie asked, becoming agitated at the wasted time. “Unfuckingbelievable!” the man exclaimed.
Thorne leaned against the brick building in the alley, holding his head in his hands. Slowly, he slid down on his haunches, trembling. Regret, guilt, and fear ate his insides like a cancerous tumor, leaving him helpless as an infant.
"Thorne." Hawk called the man. “Thorne, come on, snap out of it, you must focus.” The shaman commanded. “We don’t have time for this.” Feeling his pain, Hawk and Ronnie tried consoling the young man.
"Oh God, what if…what if she’s dead? The last thing on her mind would be the way I reacted towards her, what if…
Ronnie squatted next to Thorne, grabbing the man’s large forearm.
“You know, young wolf, your feelings shine through for Melanie. She’s not dead, she’s still alive,” Ronnie said, sniffing the city air.
“How do you know?” Thorne asked, his eyes glazed over with defeat.
“I just know, I can’t explain it, but Raphael and this hunter is using dark magic to mask her presence, I’ll tell you that.” Ronnie suggested. “Ain’t that right Hawk?”
The elderly Native American closed his eyes, and his body shook hard, in an effort to pierce through layers of magic. A low humming sound developed in his throat, eventually growing stronger, and he erupted into a prayer like chant in their Chippewa tongue.
“I love it when he does this.” Ronnie said proudly. “He’s focusing, tapping into the Earth’s powers.” Ronnie said, grinning at the shaman.
"Thorne rose to his feet, studying Hawk with much intensity. A glowing white aura formed around the old shaman, and Ronnie and Thorne witnessed Hawk’s dual totem spirit. The wise old man’s wendigo proudly raised it’s head, howling in the air, and the bear spirit, from his mother’s people stood on hind legs, rearing his head back, allowing a mighty roar to pass it’s lips.
“Now, that’s power,” Ronnie said, almost in a whisper as the shaman held his arms out wide, receiving knowledge from the universe.
Thorne looked on in awe, truly appreciating the Old One’s will and strength, working with Mother Earth to obtain answers. For the first time since his parent’s destruction, Thorne opened himself up to that power. For centuries, he ran on sheer physical strength and brawn, ignoring the spiritual gifts readily available to any of the clan members. Almost every member of the Black Claws possessed a certain power that ultimately held the clan together in more ways than one. Now, for the first time, Thorne fully understood what it meant to be a proud wendigo warrior. He also knew, it would take him a long time to regain Melanie’s trust, but he was up for the challenge and willing to do whatever it took to make the necessary changes for Melanie and his clan.
The Elder, Hawk was self-sacrificing in every way imaginable. Throughout the years, he selflessly battled demons, manitous, and other dark malevolent beings that had plagued the clan from time to time. Thorne was a good leader in his own right, and currently, he was learning his life lesson through ultimate power.
The bright aura around Hawk subsided and the man dropped to one knee, causing the young men to rush to the man’s side, helping him to his feet.
“What did you see Hawk?” Thorne asked.
“Melanie is chained in a dark cell.” Hawk said.
“Is she alright?” Thorne asked, as anger burned deep in his eyes. His wendigo growled deeply, wanting desperately to rush to the surface, destroying Melanie’s captors. He’d take great pleasure in ripping Raphael to shreds.
“Melanie is fine, but for some strange reason, I’m sensing only one harmful spirit around her, but soon there will be more. One must stay, to free the others and to save this planet. Greed is involved, it has to be the hunter. Where is Raphael?” Hawk asked puzzled.
“Maybe Raphael isn’t her captor?” Ronnie asked. “What did you mean by one must stay, to free the others and save this planet? What is going to happen?"
“No, Ronnie,” Thorne murmured. “Raphael will go to great lengths to get back at me.” He said. “Something strange is going on, don’t know what it is, but we need to get my Melanie.” Thorne said eagerly. “I’ll honestly never forgive myself if something were to happen to her. Hawk, what did you mean?” Suddenly realizing Hawk would remained tight-lipped, Thorne racked his brain in an effort to decipher the old man’s words.
The men hurried back to the car, away from the stench of the alley and the prying looks of human passerby’s. Once inside the car, Hawk sensed Thorne’s epiphany. Joy and pride erupted within the shaman’s heart when he quickly had a vision of Thorne running the Black Claws, as he should have been all along.
“There is just one thing Thorne.” Hawk said eagerly. “I understand your first reaction to many obstacles is anger, but you will need to lie that to rest. I foresee great things in your future, young wolf, but on this night, if you let anger get the best of you, Melanie will be lost to you forever. Tonight will be your greatest challenge, your greatest test,” Hawk warned, and with that, the shaman sat back, chanting a prayer in their Chippewa tongue.
Ronnie and Thorne looked at one another as Ronnie drove through the heavily trafficked streets of the city. A sense of peace and confusion swept across Thorne like a warm blanket, but he knew Hawk would not reveal all he knew. Thorne would have to figure things out on his own, as the moment of confrontation grew closer.
* * * * *
Darius and Dane spoke silently among themselves, not too far from Melanie’s cell. The old abandoned warehouse was eerie and dank, and specially made for containing creatures who were about to be put on the black market.
“What are we going to do?” Darius asked Dane. “That woman doesn’t deserve to be in there, Raphael is crazy, and Kyle, he’s just a fucking sicko!”
“What do you propose we do?” Dane asked. “I swear, I don’t know why the hell I’m still here,” the man exclaimed.
“That goes for me too, Dane, this is all we know my friend. I mean honestly, since Raphael sired us, we have always followed in his lead. Now, everything is leaving a bad taste in our mouths, buddy.” Darius said.
“I think we should help her bust out of here.” Dane confessed, scanning the area. “Kyle and Raphael are consumed with greed, and they think…
“Alright superhero, how can we get her out of there? Raphael has the key, and there is a spell that makes breaking into the cell impossible, not to mention those damn chains, but only Raphael can free her, if he wants to.” Darius said.
“Fuck, I guess we’ll have to wait for the right moment. If I survive this, I’m getting as far away from Raphael as I possibly can.” Dane said.
“I’m with you on that man, let’s just hang around, keep your eyes and ears open, alright?”
“Yeah man, whatever you say.” Dane replied, as both men walked to another section of the warehouse.
* * * * * *
Melanie was in a serious funk, because as hard as she tried, she could not shift into werewolf form. Hunger pangs ripped at her insides, but not as bad as the strong desire to mate. Raphael must have known her cycle was quickly approaching, and she knew, he’d do anything to throw a wedge between Thorne and herself. After allowing the fiend to pleasure her two evenings in a row, Melanie became riddled with guilt, and for a short period, she denied herself food. Now, the insatiable hunger was back, and Raphael was approaching her cell. His masculine scent teased her nostrils, causing her pussy to dampen.
Thankful for having her back towards the entrance of the cell, Melanie squeezed her eyes shut as Raphael inserted the key into the door, and slowly strolled in, closing the door behind him. Bloody hell, why did he appeal to her so? Melanie did all she could to contain herself, but her body’s betrayal told her she’d lose the fight once again.
"I know you’re in heat, beautiful. I can smell you.” Raphael breathed, inhaling Melanie’s sweet musky scent. "Tonight, it was my intention to spread you wide and thrust deep inside you until I hear my name rolling repeatedly from your lips, but for some unknown reason, I can't….not without…, and the vampire's words trailed off.
Melanie shuddered at those words, and she clamped her thighs together, remaining silent. Raphael glided towards her, lowering himself to his knees. Slowly, he pulled back the fur, allowing his gaze to burn into Melanie’s flesh. Shaking like a leaf at his touch excited Raphael in a way he didn’t understand. This sudden change in feelings towards the dancer left him confused, angry, and heated. With his index finger, he traced an invisible trail of fire from her neck, shoulder, and down the length of her arm. Slowly, he palmed her ass cheeks, causing her to gasp with excitement.
"Melanie,” Raphael moaned seductively. “Look at me.”
"Raphael, go away, please.”
"Are you ashamed of the brief moments of pleasure I've given you?” Raphael asked in a hushed voice. "You're in need right now, you should allow me to pleasure you again."
"I prefer not to speak about that.” Melanie replied, yanking the fur towards her body, only in vain as Raphael held it firm in his hands.
"Stop playing your games with me dancer. I know what you need and how to give it to you.” Raphael replied. "I could have taken you, forced myself upon you, and there would have been nothing you or anyone else could have done to stop me, do you know that, sweet dancer?” Raphael asked. "Now, I’m only going to ask you this one more time; turn over and face me, please.”
With that, Melanie shifted on her back with ease, since her right leg was chained to the brick wall. Upon meeting Raphael’s gaze, she noticed something different about him. There was a gleam in his eyes, a strange and different aura radiated from him. Her nipples hardened and shamelessly ached for his touch again, confusing her further.
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