Werewolves and Indians

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The pack and the tribe.
3.5k words
4.5
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Part 1 of the 13 part series

Updated 10/11/2022
Created 09/27/2013
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Iread2relax
Iread2relax
1,293 Followers

This story is a collaboration between myself and author, HarryHill. This is just the beginning. I hope you enjoy it. Chapter two will be written, but please be patient. Thank you for reading.

Werewolves and Indians

Ja'Mal gave up counting cactus after the first thousand. The twisted countryside was so much different than the green hills of Tennessee; they were gone forever after being banished to this bleak countryside. He touched the bandage on his forehead. Damn Thaddeus, damn Susan, and damn the rest of the pack; and God bless mother, he thought, then looked across the seat at her.

"I'm sorry mom." Betty smiled at the apology that had been repeated for the last 2500 miles, reaching across to push back the dreads that had fallen over his face.

"It's alright, sweetie. You were tricked into an impossible situation. Bitches and sons of a bitches," she muttered under her breath. She moved uncomfortably in her seat, returning hand and face back to the business of driving and asked, "Do you want to drive awhile? My back is getting tired."

"Sure mom, it beats counting cactus. I need to go anyway." Betty pulled off the two lanes at a wide spot, got out and stretched while Jamal checked the straps holding his bike in the back of the pickup. Satisfied that it was secure, he walked out into the dark night to piss. He was just tucking in again when the battered pick up pulled behind their truck.

He did not see the man that got out, staggering drunkenly to where his mom waited for him inside the large truck. He was big, way over 6 feet, long greasy hair hung around the craggy profile that moved toward her, leaned in the window, and began to slur.

"Hello there, pretty lady, broke down? I haven't seen you in these parts before. What's a fine looking woman like you doing out here alone?" Betty fanned her face. The man reeked of bodily fluids and booze.

"Sir, I'm heading home with my son. Please leave before he comes back. I don't want any trouble." Betty explained politely to the gentleman as she fought to control her gag reflex. As a wolf, she was used to the smell of a natural male. She loved the strong masculine smell of a man, but his man was disgusting.

"Look, Bitch. I'm here to help you. Now be a good bitch, and get out of the car." He growled.

Betty looked around, Ja'Mal was nowhere to be seen, Where is he? she wondered. Looking at this big man in his inebriated states she knew she could defend herself. She was a wolf and he was human. She'd humor him for now.

"No, sir, I am not getting out of this car," Betty refused. He became even more aggressive, and demanding.

"Sweetheart, listen. I'm not leaving you stranded, so be a good girl and get out of the car." He demanded finally before snatching the door open and yanking her from the seat. Pulling her to the hood, he covered her body with his.

Betty fought, not using her true Were strength; she just wanted to stop him, not hurt him. Then, the strange man reached into a pocket on his shirt and took out a strange powder.

"Ki me ya hiko jun jun bek," he chanted, then blew the powder into her face; her struggles ceased.

"You bitch, you can't fight me." He hissed in her ear. "I'm gonna fuck you then chain you in my yard. You'll be my bitch after this. Yeah, I'm gonna train you up nice; you'll be a good doggie," he said and proceeded to lift her denim dress and rip away the underwear that was the only barrier between them.

"JA'MAL! Betty screamed mentally as he penetrated her, not knowing where her son was and hoping he would show up soon.

Ja'Mal heard his mother's desperate cry and rushed back to their vehicle. It took him longer than he liked.

Seeing the man forcing himself on his mother threw Ja'Mal into a rage, he shifted and attacked. Knocking the rapist off of his victim, Ja'Mal went for his throat. Eyes wide, the man realized he was done for and chanted quickly the words to release his spirit.

"Nae peali gud au loo"

Across the desert, a young Native shaman felt a surge of power so strong that it caused him to fall to his knees, then collapse. Lying on the ground, he knew that his uncle, Red Healer, was gone and he'd inherited his gifts. Rising from the floor, he quickly performed the ritual for his uncle's safe passage into the spirit world.

Meanwhile, Jamal lifted the body of the old Indian. The smell of urine was strong. He made it look like he was attacked while taking a leak. Betty walked behind in the man's boots, leaving a clear path to where he lay. Replacing the boots on his feet then joining Ja'Mal ravaging the body while leaving tracks to look like he was attacked by a rabid pack of dogs.

Betty sat next to her son, mumbling, disoriented, and dazed as they drove away to their new home. Ja'Mal reached over and stroked her forehead, checking her eyes for alertness. He prayed that she'd be okay.

"Momma, you'll be alright," he whispered hoping to calm her fears. He had no idea what the man had given her. She was sleeping now and breathing normally, so hopefully Luna would grant them mercy and let her live. Soon they arrived at the house that was their new home.

*****

Ja'Mal stopped in front of the small two bedroom house. Betty had awoken, but was still slightly confused. She went inside, turning on lights. The electricity was on as promised. He unloaded the household goods then unhooked his bike. Soon, he heard the shower running. He decided to burn the clothes he and his mother were wearing when they encountered the stranger.

He needed to run. He had too much pent up energy and rage. He looked at his mother to see if she'd be alright for a few minutes.

"Mom, I have to run. Will you be alright? I just need..."

"I'm fine son. Go, but be careful. You know here we are not known and we've already found that some may be hostile," she warned him.

"I'll be careful, Mom. And I'll be right back. Lock the doors." He hugged her, kissing her forehead affectionately." He promised again to be cautious.

Shifting, he took off across the prairie. Hard breaths sounded in the cool darkness of the western night. He had been too soft before in head and body, no more. He allowed a selfish bitch to cause him his home and a stranger to hurt his mother. From now on, no one would take advantage of him or his Mom again. His carelessness caused them dearly.

Now, some asshole might cause them this place as well, if the truth ever came out. No one would know his crime; he'd made sure he covered his tracks. He'd keep his promise to Momma and they'd be safe.

Running at full speed, he released the anger felt at the injustices that had been dealt to him and his mother. Stopping a few miles from home, Ja'Mal howled his misery to the heavens, a long mournful sound that shook the ground around him. He howled a sound so hurting that a young she wolf was troubled in her sleep and wept in her dreams for the inexplicable pain she felt.

*****

Ja'Mal and Betty took a few days to settle in before looking for work in the small town. Ja'Mal searched for work at the local garage. The old man that owned the garage eyed him warily, but gave him a chance. Soon, his distrust eased and he learned to like the young man he's hired. The boy knew his way around a motor.

One day while Ja"Mal was servicing an old tractor, his wolf growled. He looked up and a man was staring at him. The man was clearly Native American and he was wearing a satchel similar the one on the man he'd disposed of.

"Evening sir, can I help you?" Ja"Mal approached the man warily.

"No, I was looking for Gus. He said he'd hired a mechanic, you must be him." he answered, glaring at the young man.

"Yes, I'm Ja'Mal. He should be back soon. He..." Ja'Mal's expression hardened as the man cut him off.

"Listen, I don't like you. You're hiding something; it's in your eyes. If and when I find out what it is, then you Dark Wolf, had better hope I feel merciful. Tell Gus that Lionel will be back." Then he walked away.

Ja'Mal wondered if he was related to the old man. He knew some Indians could read life forces. Did his life force tell his secret? Was it telling that he'd killed a man? It didn't matter. It was in defense of his mother. The bastard hurt his mother and for that alone he had to die.Shaking off the memory, he went back to work. Weeks had passed and no one had mentioned an old Indian found dead in the desert.

Ja'Mal finished rebuilding an engine for a '72 Chevy and was about to clock out and lock up when his boss Gus returned. He grunted at the young man as he walked in.

"Um, Gus, a man stopped by, an Indian, named Lionel. He said to tell you." Ja'Mal explained as he prepared to head home.

"Fuck!" Gus cussed. He didn't like that damn Indian. The bastard was evil. Why was he sniffing around my shop?, he pondered as he watched Ja'mal drive away.

Ja'Mal drove from the garage and over to the silver mine to pick up his mother. She was finishing up her shift and they would shop together for groceries before going home for their supper. She liked her job there and often told a'Mal stories about her coworkers.

Betty was really acclimating to the small town, whereas Ja'Mal had trouble adjusting.

Ja'Mal hated the small desert town where he mother lived now; the surreal landscape of the arid wilderness was only the place to run in after second shift at the silver mine; what a creepy place to work. He saw no others of his kind as miles flew by under racing paws, but there was a faint elusive scent of she bitch that was impossible to track.

He lost the spoor and backtracked. Stopping at the last place where her scent was clear, Ja'Mal raised his leg, marking a large rock on the edge of a gully. Scratching twice with left and right hinds, he lifted his head and looked over the desert toward town and the faint tinged hint of sunup. He raced the dawn home.

Far away to the East, a young woman emerged from the scrub and jogged on down the road into town; she wore jeans, sweatshirt, and well-worn moccasins. Her blond ponytail kept rhythm with her stride.

Unlike Ja'Mal, Kerri loved this town. She'd grown up here surrounded by her family and pack. When she finished high school a few years back, many of her human friends couldn't wait to leave, but not Kerri. She wanted simple things: to find a job she loved, meet her mate, and simply be content. Kerri saw Lionel's truck in the shadows of a building. Light glinted within from an upturned bottle. She shook her head then pulled the headphones over her ears, ignoring the truck and its occupant, and sprinted away homeward,

*****

Twenty minutes later, Jamal let his legs dangle over the 40ft drop of the single lane bridge on the west side of town. The rubble along the pitiful stream below was where he lost the scent of her every time. It was like she kept leading him to this spot intentionally.

Yawning, he looked around the empty streets awaking with the dawn, and then jogged to the other side of town to sleep for eight hours until it was time to work again. He did not notice the pickup parked in the shadows of the hardware store.

Lionel sat in his old '64 Ford and watched the new guy sitting on the bridge. Full of irritation and fear, he wondered who this guy was, and how soon he could be rid of him. He didn't like newcomers because they threatened him and his plans. The redneck cowboys that lived here were bad enough.

It looked like there was a new werewolf in town. He fingered his hunting knife and imagined scalping the one scenting the air. He knew what he smelled; the girl, Kerrie, the one Lionel had chosen to mate with.

True, Kerri spurned his advances but she was just a female. She showed no interest in him at all. Eventually, she'd fall in line and do what was best for her. Until then, he had to keep this guy away from her. He watched as Jamal stood to leave. After he'd gone, Lionel drove home in his old beat up Ford.

Meanwhile, Kerri had returned home after her run. She showered, washed the long hair of her blonde tresses, and put aloe Vera/chamomile lotion on her skin. She was puzzled. As she ran today, she smelled the most wonderful scent: The scent of a forest in spring, an amazing smell for this dry place.

Knowing that scent belonged to a man she didn't know, she smiled and let her hands slip lower, imagining the hands of the man she felt destined to meet. Smiling to herself, Kerri was elated that one day soon, she'd meet her mate.

A week later, Ja'Mal's runs had taken him far into the foothills to the north of town. Smelling smoke, he dug his feet into the dirt in a sliding stop, raising his head sniffing. The beat of a drum began, slow and measured. He resisted the urge to howl into the night. A voice, singing a chanting song, joined the drum. The hackles rose on Ja'mal's back at the eerie sound.

He crept up to where the ground fell away and saw a loin clothed figure dancing around a fire, striking a drum carried in an arm with what looked like the leg bone of a man. Smoke wreathed about him like a serpent, winding and undulating in sinuous coils.

He knew that the Hualapai Reservation was located near the town and many members still engaged in ancient practices. But this chant, there was something about it.

His wolf sense was already on edge, now he became even more irritated. This feeling was multiplied knowing the female was near. Shifting into his wolf form, Jamal watched the figure as he completed his ritual. He knew that this guy was trouble; one day they'd meet in not so friendly terms. The man kneeled to pray when the ritual ended.

Jamal left. He headed back to the house he shared with his mother. He'd talk to her, and maybe she could share her wisdom with him. But first, he was long overdue for a cheeseburger.

Lionel, also known as, T'chukemia, Guardian of the Pine, was shaman. He came from a family of very powerful shaman that originated with the tribe centuries ago. Each shaman was sent on a quest to find his spirit partner,

His was the spirit of the forest. His spirit half was angry, and needed power; none were more powerful than the local werewolf pack that lived in the area.

His tribe and the werewolves once worked together as a cohesive unit; they thrived. Once the white man came, and with them wolves from across the ocean, their bond was destroyed. The wolves rejected them and the Hualapai people perished, becoming a pitiful reminder of the once glorious tribe.

But, if a shaman as powerful as him could mate with a wapjanli, were princess, then he could gain control of the forest and the land, perhaps his kind could regain their pride. He needed to convince the wolves to allow him into their ceremonial rituals that his kind had been banned from for centuries.

There was no hope in reuniting with them with Kerrie. She was a wolf princess. Her love for her pack and the land were clear indications of her stature.

Then that guy, the dark male came. He scented her and he knew the wolf in him recognized an available bitch. But, Kerrie was not to be his; she belonged to him and his tribe. Lionel saw her first when she was a mere pup on the cusp of womanhood. Now she was fully grown and he desired to make her his. He finished his worship, dressed, and decided to go see his woman.

*****

After showering and dressing for the day to begin, Kerri left home for her weekend shift at the local diner. Alternating with the other three girls over the month, each got a day off once a week. As she walked to her car to drive to work, Lionel drove up and got out of his truck, leaning against the door of her old pinto.

Kerri did not like Lionel; he freaked her out. There was something about him that felt ...evil. As he pulled up beside her, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Then realizing how secluded the empty road in front of her house was, she became even more alert. Lionel had never tried to force her into anything, but she knew he watched her constantly.

He was a handsome man, tall, dark, bronze skinned with black hair and thick eyebrows. He was wearing his shirt open today, letting the powerful muscles of his chest and rippled abdomen show. He smiled as her eyes glanced at his body, then dropped to the bulge in his faded Levi's for an instant then hurriedly examined the dust beside her parked car as she cursed herself for looking.

"Howdy Kerri, working this weekend?" Lionel asked.

What a stupid question, she thought to herself. He had more than friendly feelings toward her and did not seem to get the hint that she was not interested.

"Yep," she answered and made to push by to leave for work. Lionel did not move just grinned that annoying superior smirk that he had perfected since high school.

"There's a rodeo in Tucson next weekend, want to go?" The idiot would not take the hint.

"Nope," she answered and again tried to get into her car. Lionel just stood there as she pushed on him. He had on more than one occasion tried to get her alone. Often she'd manage to maneuver him to a place where other people were. Thank God they were in her front yard. The hinges squeaked on the screen door of the house behind her.

"You're going to be late for work, Kerri, best saddle up." her father called from the porch. Oh, thank you daddy, she thought as Lionel moved away from her car, a hand to the brim of his sweat stained Stetson.

"Morning Mr. Hardfoote, nice day ain't it?" The old man said nothing, just waved and waited for Kerri to answer.

"On my way, Pops," Kerri called getting in, starting the car, then driving away. She watched the mirror, where she was sure Lionel was once again trying to get her father to let his tribe join the pack in sacred rituals. She knew he guarded the secrets of the pack.

*****

Lionel seemed more intense this time than usual. Almost as if he knew. She knew he appeared human, but Lionel was more. His tribe and her pack coexisted and over the years had developed an understanding. Soon she pulled up to the diner and decided to push thoughts of the creepy good looking man from her mind. She smiled as she remembered the strong earthy scent of the male from the morning. He was near and she could not wait to meet him.

"Thank goodness you made it." Isla welcomed her as she walked in. Isla was full blown Hualapai and simply beautiful. Her dark skin was smooth and without a blemish. Her round face with the biggest brown eyes shone brightly as Kerrie walked in. Isla was often envied by other women of the tribe because of her beauty; she didn't have many friends. Although she knew Kerrie was wolf, she trusted her and the two women bonded.

"Guess what, Kerri; I'm going to that college I applied for." Her dark eyes danced as she rushed to continue. "That scholarship you told me about, I got it. Kerrie, I can go to school," she boasted as she hugged her friend.

I guess she can't wait to leave here either. Why do people always want to leave here? Kerrie thought as she hugged and congratulated her friend. The bell over the door rang; she stiffened, as the most magnificent smell permeated the diner. He was here. The one she was surely destined to meet. Kerrie looked up and saw the most handsome man she'd ever seen standing at the entrance.

Thank everyone for reading chapter one. Please vote and comment.

Iread2relax
Iread2relax
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I_Love_EroticaI_Love_Erotica8 days ago

I'm truly disappointed that Iread2relax began this series with the stereotype of the "drunken Indian".

AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago
Good start

Ok I've just found your stories ;)

Characters quickly established

Mysterious past

Lone wolf

Pack

Good beginning

kjohns2001kjohns2001over 9 years ago
I was right

I was right, this is truly one of those stories that I would love to be able to get my hands in full length book form. The writing has a few errors but nothing a bit of editing cannot take care of, mostly either a poor choice of words or slight typos. All that takes second place to the story itself though. If the rest of the parts of the story live up to the same standard as this one I will be rereading this story frequently.

Shifter romance is a personal favorite genre and I'm always looking for more great books in the genre to add to my collection. Perhaps the author will take my advice and consider expanding this into a full length book. Please, self publishing is just not that hard these days. Or submit it to a regular publisher, I'm sure one of them would jump at the chance to publish something as good as this.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
Previous commenter is mistaken

About dreadlocks. They are easy to clean & maintain their shape wet or dry. In no way do they give a blanket representation of wearers' personal habits. I should know, as I've had my hair in dreads for over 20 years now...

Loving this story & I'm glad I still have a few chapters to go. Looking forward to reading more! :) x

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
You lost me at 'dreads'.

Dreadlocks are perhaps the single most anti-sexy things on the planet. They stink, are (if not cared for correctly) bug infested and at other times utterly disgusting!

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