Author's Note: I don't know if you realize this (but if you follow me on deviantart you probably do) but I'm writing my own Black Dagger Brotherhood fanseries. Some with my own characters, some with JR Ward's characters mixed in. At no point to I claim her character's as mine. But this is the third (of like 20) fanfic in the series after Lover Reunited and there will be more to come I assure you. Anways, I hope you guys like the first chapter of Lover Destined.
REVIEW PLEASE! I crave feedback:D
Chapter 1
Blaylock sighed as he exited the Iron Mask.
There was only so much of John and Qhuinn's happiness that he could take; and tonight, he'd had enough.
He'd been happy when John had finally got together with Xhex, but as he watched Qhuinn and the leader of The Black Rose Sisterhood, Alexiel aka Lilith fall in love, he'd felt nothing but sorrow and jealousy.
Blay had been in love with Qhuinn for many years. He'd tried to deny his feelings many times, but they never wavered. Qhuinn was aware of his feelings, but he'd wanted a shellan. Even though his feelings had been denied, Blay had always still hoped Qhuinn might change his mind. But once he took Lilith as his mate, Blay had lost what little ray of hope he'd held on to.
Now, he didn't know what to do. It was hard still hanging out with Qhuinn while he still held feelings for him.
John and Qhuinn's happiness was starting to take its toll on Blay. As he witnessed the extent of his friends' happiness it was starting to make him feel depressed. He wanted to find his own happily ever after, but with his strong feelings for Qhuinn, he doubted he could move on so easily.
With his hands in his pockets, Blay started down the street. His destination remained unknown, he just wanted to keep his legs moving while his thoughts ran.
Blay studied the street, even though there wasn't a soul in sight, it still wasn't a good idea to be out here by himself. That's what his subconscious told him, it said to go back in the IronMask and sit down safely with his friends. The other part of him said: Fuck it! What was the point in acting so cautiously. He was a man, wasn't he? He could take care of himself just fine.
Since he was in such a foul mood, he decided to keep walking instead of going back to the safe club.
Altogether, it was a nice night. The sky was clear and stars littered the night sky, not too cold for September in Caldwell. It was too bad that he was in such a bad mood that he couldn't enjoy the good weather.
The smell though, he thought to himself as he made a face as the smell assaulted his nose. It smelled like dog.
He glanced around but saw no sign of a stray dog or anything else living for that matter; which he found odd. He took a look down at his watch, it wasn't too late. Taking in the nearness of some clubs, there should at least be a couple of humans staggering around. But the street was eerily empty.
Blay turned and eyed the distance he'd made from the club. While he'd been simmering in his own dark thoughts, his feet had kept moving strong and steady. He'd covered quite a distance; the neon sign of the club was but a small dot in his sights.
Though he really had no desire to return to the smoky, bass pumping interior of the club, he really should start heading back. Qhuinn and John would come looking for him soon if he was gone too long.
With a sigh of defeat, Blaylock turned back towards the club.
And halted when he heard the shuffles behind him.
Whirling around to face his unknown attackers, the red-headed male vampire came face to face with five large, snarling wolves.
"What the fuck?!" Blay exclaimed as he backed up a step. What in the world were wolves doing in the middle of the city? In New York, none the less.
The largest wolf, one with a scar across it's muzzle and with fur the blue-black color of the night sky, stalked forward ahead of the others and bared its fangs at him. This one appeared to be the leader, he noted as he stared down the canine with the large, unusual green eyes.
Why on earth were they so big? he wondered incredulously. He was no expert, but he was pretty sure that wolves didn't grow to the size of a bear.
Come to think of it, why was he just standing her with his mouth open? Why didn't he just splatter their brains all over the concrete?
Gritting his teeth, Blaylock slowly reached for the gun in the holster on his hip, hidden under his shirt. As he did so, he watched the pack leader for any sign that he was about to pounce. But as he did so, he noticed something that shocked him down to his core.
The wolf's eyes were following his movements, but that wasn't the part that gave him pause. No, it was the shine of intelligence in the animal's eyes that frightened him. What he saw in their green depths wasn't the animalistic nature of other animals, but the sparkle of awareness of a person.
No, they couldn't be. Blay knew that vampires existed, since he himself was one, so was it too incredulous to believe that-could these creatures possibly be..werewolves? There was only one way to find out.
"You can understand me, can't you?"
The leader's eyes flashed back to him and in them he saw understanding. The wolf bared its teeth once again in a sinister grin and nodded curtly.
Now that his suspicions had been confirmed, Blay now knew he wasn't escaping here without a fight. He wouldn't be able to simply gun down some dumb animals. Now he had to fight humans who just happened to be wearing the form of wolves.
Sweat broke out on Blaylock's forehead as he tried to quickly formulate a plan in his head.
After a few seconds, his mind still remained blank. He had no plan. His best option was to start shooting and pray that he got out of this situation alive. Once again, he started to reach for his gun at his side, along with the other one hidden at the small of his back.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Two pale figures stepped out from the shadow behind the wolves, their guns drawn and aimed right at his chest.
Blay cursed as their sickly, sweet smell blew across him. Lessers. How could he have missed their baby powder scent up until now? It didn't take him long to figure it out; the lessers had been downwind and he'd been too preoccupied with wolf watching to notice them.
Why weren't the werewolves attacking the lessers? he wondered as the undead came closer. Neither the wolves or the lessers seemed surprised at the others presence. Could it be-?
His suspicions were confirmed when the lessers weaved carefully, but calmly around the werewolves' bodies.
"When did you undead bastards start using werewolves to do your bidding?" he asked angrily.
They finally stopped their approach. The one on the right grinned cockily at him, "So you've figured it out. Yeah, our forelesser has made a pact with a band of werewolves in order to gain the advantage on you bloodsuckers," he gloated.
In an attempt to keep him talking and distracted, Blay replied sarcastically with a question, "Do you idiots really think a couple of oversize dogs are going to help you against the Brotherhood? Face it, after we're done killing the puppies, we'll just go back to poofing you dickless assholes back to hell and to your master."
His remark had the werewolves snarling at him and the lessers scowling. But, he noted, it had served its purpose. Their weapons had slightly lowered! Now was his chance.
In a move to quick for the human eye to follow, Blay raised both guns and gave each of the lessers a nice round hole through their chests. He didn't bother to watch their dead bodies slump to the ground, but turned his attention solely on the werewolves.
He quickly fired a shot into the head of an approaching brown wolf, but that gave another one the opportunity to sink its teeth into his arm.
Blay cursed at the pain and put his free gun to the wolf's head and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter splattered against his leather jacket and the wolf's jaws loosened as the carcass fell to the ground, half its head gone.
He didn't have time to relax, there were still three more left, including the leader. Two of the wolves launched themselves at him, but the leader held back and watched.
Blay attempted to stay out of the reach of the beasts, but their speed almost matched his and they managed to keep pace with him.
A gray wolf dodged his next bullet and reached out to slash it's enormous claws at his side. At first, Blay didn't feel the pain as the claws but into his flesh, but the next instant his whole side was on fire.
He'd been so centered on the gray wolf that he hadn't noticed the rust colored one sneak up behind him. Blaylock roared with both fury and pain as yet another wolf's teeth were embedded in the sensitive on the back of his thigh. The shock of the pain had him falling to his knees, and the wolf, sensing his fallen defense, yanked him backwards so that his stomach was now on the concrete.
With him held down, the gray werewolf lounged at him. Luckily, when he fell Blay had managed to keep hold of his weapons. Raising his gun he shot the wolf square between the eyes maybe a mere foot from his face.
Gritting his teeth, Blay twisted, ignoring the searing pain in his side, and fired five bullets into the wolf who had him by the leg.
Breathing heavily, Blay pushed himself up onto his knees as he turned his attention to the remaining werewolf. The big black wolf hadn't moved throughout the fight and now stood there staring at him with its intelligent green eyes.
He was hurt, bleeding heavily from the arm and thigh; not to mention the slashes at his side along with the various other scrapes he got from being on the concrete. The question was: why hadn't the leader taken the chance to finish him when he'd been too busy fighting off the others?
The black wolf stared at him for another moment, before turning around and loped off into the night.
It didn't even occur to Blay to shoot the werewolf as it escaped. Crawling towards a brick wall, Blay managed to push himself to his feet, keeping his weight mostly supported on the wall. He attempted to put weight on his wounded leg, but with no luck. Not surprising, since the wolf had taken a chunk of his thigh along with it, he noted as he looked down weakly.
Looking at the carcasses on the ground, Blay was more than a little surprised to see the wolves' forms start to turn. Their fur was receding, and their bodies shrinking. They were, he realized, turning back to their original human forms, their true forms.
Speaking of corpses, he thought as he limped towards the bodies of the lessers. He needed to dispatch some of those.
Fumbling with the knife in a sheath inside his coat's sleeve, Blay dispatched the lessers with a stab to each of their chests. Once the two of them were nothing left but ashes, he finally sank down against the wall for some much needed rest.
The wetness on his thighs had him looking down to study his wound. He winced at the damage. Just a little bit higher, and the werewolf might've taken his "boys" with him. He sure did get the inside of his thigh pretty good, he noticed as he watched the blood flow.
The thought suddenly occurred to Blay that the wolf's teeth might have nicked an artery, which normally wouldn't be a problem for his kind. But Blay hadn't fed from a female vampire recently which would make him slow to heal, maybe too slow to save his life.
Uh oh, he thought as his vision began to blur before him. He tried to shake his head to clear his eyes, but it did him no good.
Maybe he could call Qhuinn, he decided. Reaching in to his pocket with his wounded arm, he wrapped his fingers around his phone. But now that he had his phone, he found that he couldn't raise his arm. It felt incredibly heavy, like it was made of lead.
Guess this is it, Blay thought to himself as he closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to take him. If only he could see Qhuinn one last time.
The cool, yet gentle touch of finger on his cheeks had his eyes flying open. Even through blackness ebbing into his line of sight, Blay met big, pair of beautiful forest green eyes filled with worry and concern.
"Who-?" was all he was able to choke out before he was swallowed by unconsciousness.