Wolf's Obsession (10 page)

Melanie trembled, squeezing her eyes shut and scratching her legs as Raphael dipped
his head between her thighs. She dug her nails even deeper into her skin as Raphael
forced a wounded cry from her parted lips, his cool tongue spreading delectable
wicked sensations throughout her heated body. Wriggling his tongue inside Melanie’s
wet cavern, Raphael spread her wet satiny flesh open, observing the moisture quickly
developing on her hot, sensitive flesh. Raphael’s hair tickled the apex of her sex,
causing her to reach for her nipples.

Still holding her gaze, quick darts of the vampire’s tongue quickly brought Melanie
to a gut wrenching orgasm, causing her legs to quiver like jelly, and her stomach
to twitch uncontrollably along with each passing wave of her orgasm.

Suddenly, Danoir appeared at the entrance to the cell, a twisted grin curling his
lips. He was compelled to stand and watch, but knowing Raphael, he'd have Danoir's
hide.

"Raphael, Kyle needs to speak to you, he says it's very important." Danoir said.

Cursing under his breath, Raphael quickly covered Melanie over, but not before giving
her a warning that sent enticingly sweet shivers down her spine and through her
dripping hot core…

"I'll return later, and we will pick up where we left off." Raphael smiled. "I promise
you that. Get your rest dancer, you're gonna need it!"

Melanie shivered in delight as Raphael exited through the cell, flashing a serious
look her way as he strode alongside Danoir, making her insides turn to molten lava….

Melanie groaned, lowering her head to the floor, pulling the furs securely around
her. Quite the predicament she was in, not only because she faced death, but if
she survived, and Thorne changed his mind, where would that leave them?

* * * * * *

Storm Cloudfeather enjoyed the ongoing conversation with Melanie's parents. Indeed,
he'd never seen a vampire and werewolf couple before, but his mind was not closed
to it.

"Jay, ancestors visited centuries upon centuries ago when Earth was new, in the
time of the dinosaurs. Then, it was decided there was truly nowhere we could exist
on Earth. Later, my people returned, and they spoke of a great clan called The Black
Claws." Natalie confessed. "I'm told there was a powerful shaman who wouldn't let
his proud wendigo warriors perish with time."

"It is true, what you speak of Natalie," Jay replied. Our clan's population dwindled
heavily, but The Great Spirit saw a way to overcome that and knew we'd survive.
That was why my ancestors and your species paths crossed. Jay reached into his pouch,
retrieving a small deerskin bag adorned with feathers. A beautiful gold talisman
with a large black stone mounted on a wolf's head quickly captured everyone's attention.
Electrical currents coursed through the stone, startling Donovan.

"What is that Jay?" The vampire asked in awe, reveling in the beauty of the mystical
object. "Wait a minute, Natalie, isn't that…

"Yes Donovan, it is the Aldelandian, a talisman allowing shape-shifters from our
planet to travel to one another, no matter where they may be in the galaxy," Natalie
beamed proudly. "I thought they had been destroyed and often wondered if I would
ever cross paths with any of my kind. I seriously think it’s the only one left."

"This belongs to you Natalie, and Melanie." Jay said, leaning forward, carefully
handing the sacred object to Natalie. My ancestors made sure it was safe, passing
it along as our clan dwindled."

"Why didn't they ever stay here on Earth?" Donovan asked Jay and Natalie.

"For those who journeyed, homesteading on another planet would have possibly caused
them to lose touch with their families who were still on Edolonia. The wars helped
nothing, and quite possibly, families would have been taken as prisoners if left
unprotected. Earth isn't the only planet where Edolonian wolves sought new homes."
Jay said.

"Yes Donovan, my love, don't you remember me speaking of this. I mean, we have a
few fellow Edolonians in our community, but nothing comparing to the masses who
are scattered across the galaxy.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Storm grinned, looking at Donovan who, for the first time
in his entire existence was at a lost of words.

"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 with 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.