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The Vampire's Special Lover(9)

By:Charlie Richards


Lowering his arm, Dobs struggled to keep his voice even, when all he   wanted to do was yell. "I freaked the fuck out, okay? Is that what you   want to hear?" he hissed. He just managed to control his urge, not   wanting to be overheard as he admitted, "Having a fucking wolf sit on my   feet and growl was more than my fragile psyche could handle. My one   thought was to get them all away from me."

Saying the words aloud stabbed his ego, but it was the fact that one of   those shifters was his chosen one that stung even more. He leaned   forward, put his head in his hands, and whispered, "My beloved is a   fucking shifter and I'm afraid of him."

The room became eerily silent in the wake of his confession. After about   a minute, Dobs lifted his head just enough to peer at his friend.  Lex's  impassive expression gave none of his thoughts away.

When the silence became oppressive, Dobs snapped, "Say something, dammit."

Lex let out a breath in whoosh as he stood up. He ran a hand through his   hair and frowned. Finally, he scowled in consternation and said,   "You've worked with shifters before. I've seen you do it! I've never   scented fear and I know if the shifters scented fear, they wouldn't have   been shy in saying something. Why haven't you ever said anything?"

Dobs rolled his eyes and lifted his head all the way. "You think I would   have admitted it if I didn't have to?" he growled. "Just because I   interact with shifters a couple times a year for my job, it never   prepared me to have a three hundred pound wolf sitting on my foot and   snarling." Flopping back again, he pressed his palms to his temples and   groaned. "What the hell was Fate thinking?"

Lex huffed a sigh and crossed to him. Kneeling beside the chair, he   stated, "Maybe she was thinking it's time you resolved these issues, and   Frankie can help you do that." Then he smiled slightly. "Three hundred   pounds, huh? That'd be an impressive protector."

Appreciating the change in subject, Dobs nodded. "Yeah. Except he's submissive."

Snorting, Lex said, "Not with your safety, he's not." Not waiting for a   response, Lex leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. "Okay,   enough sulking. You need help accepting his wolf, because, let's face   it, Frankie is a shifter and his wolf is part of him. That's not   something that's ever going to change."

"Yeah, okay," Dobs responded, drawing the words out as he eyed his friend warily.

"Have you ever talked to a psychiatrist about this?" Lex asked. He   immediately held up his hands in placation, stalling Dobs' initial   response of denial. "There's one here, locally. An elephant shifter.   He's discreet."

Taken aback, Dobs snapped, "You want me to tell a shifter that I'm afraid of them? What the hell, man?"                       
       
           



       

"What part of discreet did you miss? Besides, ever hear of patient   confidentiality? He's not going to tell anyone, and he could help you!"   Lex urged.

"I'll think about it," Dobs muttered, just to get the man off his back.   From the look Lex gave him, Dobs figured his friend knew it, too, and   would probably revisit the subject at the worst possible time.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately given the expression on his face,   Seb strode into the room. "I just got a call from Caspian. He says he   got a call from Declan, who learned that the vampire Mikael was spotted   just outside of his territory." He crossed his arms over his chest.   "I'll give you one guess who he was asking about."

"Me," Dobs murmured, dread filling him.

"Ding, ding, ding," Seb responded sarcastically.

"And where Mikael is, his buddy, Backus, isn't far behind," Dobs added.

"And his band of assholes," Lex added coldly.

He'd never been able to prove it, but Dobs just knew Mikael was behind   Roman's assassination. Fortunately, upon Roman's death, Dobs had made   certain Falutian was instated as coven leader before Mikael could usurp   the position. Mikael had had a hard-on for him ever since, and not in a   good way.

"Find out where he's staying and who's with him and let me know," he   ordered. Getting up, he stalked to his bedroom and grabbed his phone off   his nightstand. Punching in Frankie's number, he waited impatiently  for  his beloved to pick up. When it went to voicemail, he snarled.  After  hanging up, he tried again, but got the same result. Curling his  lip, he  dialed a different number. It was picked up almost immediately.

"Reb's Tattoos."

Dobs' brows shot up. He wondered if Frankie had any tattoos, then he   shook his head and focused. "Reb, this is Dobs. Where's Frankie? He's   not answering my call."

He gritted his teeth when Reb didn't answer right away. Through clenched   teeth, he snapped, "I can't very well apologize if he won't talk to  me,  now can I?"

"I guess that's true," Reb drawled. "He's at Nick's house, helping a fellow pack-mate fine tune his shift."

"His shift?" Dobs asked. "Doesn't that come naturally?"

"No," Reb replied coolly. "It's like a muscle that needs exercise. The more you do it, the easier it becomes."

Well, that was interesting. He'd have to ask Frankie about that. Maybe   it would help him get over his irrational fear of shifters in their   animal form. But for now …  "Where's Nick's place?"

Reb stayed quiet for another couple of seconds, and the idea that maybe   he did that just to pull Dobs' chain entered his mind. He fought back a   growl as Reb finally deemed to answer. Committing the info to memory,   Dobs' grumbled a thank you.

Before he could hang up, Reb warned coldly, "Hey, Dobs, if you fuck with   my brother's head, mate or not, I will find a way to make your life   miserable."

Dobs hated being threatened, but he understood Reb was just looking   after his brother, so he swallowed his initial caustic response and   replied, "I'd be making my own life miserable. Yes, we have some things   to work through," he admitted, "but I really do want this to work and  to  make him happy."

"Good. Keep it that way." The line disconnected.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dobs tried to settle down. His   organized, structured life was in tatters, and he didn't know how to get   it back … or even if he ever could. He heard someone approach, Seb by  the  scent of him. Dobs didn't respond until the vampire set a hand on  his  shoulder.

"Did you talk to him?" Seb asked quietly.

Dobs shook his head. "He's not answering, so I talked to his brother. He's at the house of a shifter named Nick."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Go there. Find my beloved. Fuck him into the ground, and bond with   him," he replied, stalking back into the main room and grabbing his   coat.

"You didn't bond with him yesterday?" Lex said from across the room,   grabbing his own coat. "With the scents on you two, and the way he just   dropped his pants, I was certain-"

Dobs growled, cutting him off. "Do not think about Frankie's ass, Lex," he warned.

Lex held up his hands in placation. "Just sayin'," he muttered.

"I didn't fuck him, but I will," he vowed.

He yanked open the door. Now that he knew where his beloved was, the   need to find him, see him, touch him, took over. He wanted Frankie,   shifter or not, and he was going to do everything in his power to get   him. Forcing his pride aside, he glanced toward Lex and mumbled,   "Contact the shrink. I'll talk to him."                       
       
           



       

Lex nodded curtly and dropped back a few steps while digging out his phone.

Dobs followed Reb's directions to Nick's home. At the end of a short   driveway stood a small ranch style home with an attached one-car garage.   Next to the garage was a lean-to holding a beige forest ranger's jeep.

Stepping out of his SUV, the unmistakable scent of wolf shifter hit his   senses. His skin goose-bumped under his coat, chilling him, and the   hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He wanted to get back in his   vehicle and drive away, but Frankie was supposed to be here. These  were  Frankie's friends.

I am safe. These shifters are not feral. I am safe.

Repeating the words gave him a small measure of courage, or it could   have been the very faint sniff of Frankie's scent that tickled his   senses. Either way, Dobs headed up the walk, stepped onto the stone slab   that served as a porch, and rang the bell. His sensitive hearing  caught  the faint sound of a chime on the other side of the door. He  waited  only a couple seconds before hearing footsteps approaching.