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
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
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