After Dawn, What Came Next

“No.”

“Does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know. I thought… I wanted to believe I mattered to somebody. That for

all the long years of service to Eloise and the pack, I mattered, at least in some small degree. I was born completely expendable. Nothing more than a lab experiment that could easily be duplicated. My brother and I, we’re possibly two of the hundreds that might have been. I’m glad Seff destroyed the lab and what he didn’t, Eloise did.”

“Catcher, you matter. You are unique.” Fallon pinched his arm. “This is flesh and bone. Real.” She lifted her finger and pointed to his heart. “This wasn’t created in any lab. This makes you unique and it matters more than how you came to be.”

Catcher clung to Fallon’s words. He wanted to believe every sentence she said. He needed to believe there was something more to him than the genetic material that had created him. He wanted to hate Eloise and her band of mad scientists. He had been bred to be a cold efficient killer, a protector, and he had been born to die. It had been engineered into his DNA to put his life on the line and to kill without conscience. But, even in that the scientists had failed. He remembered every life he had ever taken in the mistress’s name. “I truly am the son of no one. How is it that you could love a thing like me?”

Fallon captured Catcher’s face between her palms and tilted his head so that they

saw eye to eye. The truth would haunt him, but she would never allow it to define him. Never. Catcher deserved justice for what had been done to him. But, justice would be a hollow victory. There was no place for Catcher to go but forward. Eloise could never undo what she had done and an apology would never be enough. The dark days were over. The discovery Fallon had unearthed would be deleted with a keystroke. Initially, that was what she had intended to do. But, Catcher deserved to know first and now he did. “I guess I have a weakness for imperfect beings.”

“You just said I was perfect.”

“No. I said genetically, you were perfect. But, I hate to tell you this, Catcher. You’re just as flawed as everybody else on the planet. You have all these annoying little habits that drive me completely nuts. You drool in your sleep. You squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle. You never put the toilet seat down. You grit your teeth when you’re thinking. You…”

“But, you love me anyway?”

“I do. You’re also the bravest man I know. You’re loyal. You’re trustworthy. No amount of genetic engineering made you the man you are. You did that and it is that man I love.”

“Eloise should pay for what she did to my brother and me.”

“I think,” Fallon said. “She already has. Eloise did what she had to do to keep you and your brothers by her side and her pack in one piece. Her debt has been paid. This is your time, not hers. This time belongs to us.”

“Us.” Nestled in Fallon’s arms, Catcher let go of his past and his rage. He was

alive no matter how his life had come to be. He had Eloise to thank for that. He

could never look upon her as a mother. He would prefer not to dwell on the past and embrace the future he held in his arms. “We’re going to make lots and lots of beautiful babies together.”

Fallon smiled into the curve of Catcher’s shoulder. She held the future in her arms. Daniel was the past. One she could not bring herself to regret. “Don’t you think you should ask me to marry you before we start making those babies?”

Catcher stuttered, “I just assumed you…you do want to marry me? Right?”

Snickering, Fallon pressed a kiss to Catcher’s mouth. “I thought you’d never ask. Now, if you’d like, I mean, if you can find the time and don’t have anything better to do this evening…maybe we can get started on baby number one.”

Catcher swooped Fallon up into his arms and carried her over to the bed. “I think I can manage to spare a few minutes.”

“Minutes?”

“Hours?” Catcher asked as he tossed Fallon onto the bed and landed on top of her.

“Now, I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 93

Tom rubbed his raw wrist. The little fucker had a voracious appetite and absolutely no finesse or table manners to speak of. There were some perks to being a member of the brat pack and some drawbacks too. Cat refused to let Christian take his first meal from a human wrist. She wanted him to break in his baby fangs on something more potent and more durable than an ordinary human. Tom was too powerful a wolf to be spellbound by an infantile suggestion of complacence. Even Cat had tried and failed. Tom scowled at his ravaged wrist and waited impatiently for his body to heal the damage.

His human side had allowed him to endure the bite without ripping off Christian’s head. Tom supposed his human side gave him a decided advantage over the purebred wolves. Any self-respecting wolf would have handed Christian his ass. Barbara was healed, but in no shape to offer her blood to a hungry newborn. So, it was Tom that was the blue plate special of the night. “Damn.”

Ray hung back giving Tom his space. Tom was such a guy…a real man’s man and as such needed time to get his shit and his pride together. If Tom had offered his wrist to a female, he probably would have enjoyed the experience a whole lot more. Tom was a homophobe and resented anything even remotely resembling intimacy between two men. Cat had been too worried and Christian too hungry to notice Tom’s hesitancy and reluctance. Ray had caught it though in the expression on Tom’s face as Christian fed on him. “You ok?”

“Great…just great,” Tom grunted. The healing wound burned and itched. His body didn’t heal damage as fast as a wolf’s. The damn human part of him was determined to make him suffer. “I’m fucking fantastic.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Ray grumbled. “Let me see your wrist.”

“I’m ok. Really.”

“Damn, Tom. Are you afraid I’m going to sexually assault you or something?” Ray’s eyes settled on Tom’s face and saw something in the expression he hadn’t expected to see. Disgust, he could have handled. Revulsion, he would have anticipated. But, there was a flicker in Tom’s eyes that had Ray standing there speechless. For all Tom’s claiming that he wasn’t gay and had not the slightest bit of interest in exploring that unknown territory between them. There it was as plain and readable as the flair in Tom’s eyes. Curiosity. Interest. Desire. Attraction.

The kiss had opened a door Tom would have never have dared to open on his own. Ray clutched Tom’s wrist, feeling the firmness of the bone beneath the wrapper of flesh and blood. Tom’s pulse thundered against the pad of Ray’s thumb. Ray wished he could slam the door shut, lock it up tight, and throw away the key. A part of him wanted that, to simply walk away and abandon Tom. Let Tom figure things out for himself. But, Ray had forced the door open. Hell, he had been the one to break it down. How could he back out now?

Tom wrist was on fire, but it had nothing to do with the wound. The heat burning him was from Ray’s grip. Tom wondered at what point he had stopped seeing Ray as a friend and nothing more. He had been so hell bent on denying the kiss and his response to it. Wasted so much time wishing he could love Ray the way the man deserved. The answer had been in front of him the entire time. Tom simply hadn’t wanted to see the truth for what it was. He did love Ray.

Ray closed his eyes and shivered from the feel of Tom’s hands winding through his hair and clenching the strands in his fist, drawing their mouths toward one another on a collision course. Ray’s whole body stiffened, reveling in the warmth he had dreamed of feeling against him for so very long. He couldn’t breathe. It was as if every molecule of oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Tom wasn’t drunk. The press of his lips against Ray’s was deliberate. The sweep of Tom’s tongue into Ray’s mouth was real and from the heart. Ray hung on, gripping Tom’s shoulders and trapping their bodies together in a hard line of male muscle and masculine desire.

Tom felt the coldness of the wall against his back. He balanced his weight, using Ray and the wall for support while he tried to regain his equilibrium. The world tilted on its axis and it didn’t seem like it would ever be upright again. Ray’s breath was hot across his lips and his body hard, pressing into his. Ray gripped the back of Tom’s neck, digging his fingernails into the tender flesh. Tom knew he should open his eyes and meet Ray’s stare. There was so much to say, but no words seemed to be the right ones to speak aloud. He owed Ray an apology. He owed Ray a confession or at the very least a feeble explanation. “I love you,” Tom said between gasps of breath and the slipping of Ray’s tongue between his parted lips.

Ray kissed away Tom’s confession. Tom’s veneer had finally been stripped away to reveal the man beneath its glossy surface. Tom’s tongue matched his in equal strokes of vigorous hunger, tangling them together. The ripe head of Tom’s erection was hard and relentless against Ray’s hip. For something that happened under the cover of darkness and had been seen as wrong…immoral…for as many centuries as man had walked the planet, nothing had ever been and felt more right.

The world was different now, but not so different. This choice the two of them were making would be a hard road to walk. Hell, he didn’t even know how they were supposed to walk it. Ray softened his kiss and teasingly brushed his lips over Tom’s. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Tom brushed a thumb over Ray’s cheek. It was strange in a way to feel the rough stubble of Ray’s beard opposed to the soft, sleekness of a woman’s tender skin. Ray didn’t smell of sweet perfume, but rather of raw earth and pine. Ray’s hair was short and cropped close to his scalp, but no less soft and velvety than a woman’s. Ray was hard and there wasn’t any softness to his form. Ray was taller and broader through the shoulders than Tom. But, the two of them fit together better than Tom would have ever suspected. “You always were the smarter of the two of us.”

“I know.”

Tom gripped Ray’s hair and drew him in for another kiss. Tom was used to being the one in control, but he found it easy to drift in the comfort and safety of Ray’s embrace. He trusted Ray with something he had never trusted anyone with before. His body was secondary. It was his heart that Ray held in the palm of his hand.

Ray ran his fingertips over Tom’s erection loving the way Tom shivered in response to such a soft touch. He never thought he’d ever see the day where he found the pieces of himself he had been missing. On long lonely nights he had laid awake entertaining himself with thoughts of what it would be like…with a man…with Tom. The reality of it was going to be so much better than what he had brought to life with his palm. “I’ve never…with anybody.”

“Me either,” Tom admitted. His breath quickened as Ray sped the stroking of his fingertips along the hard ridge beneath Tom’s zipper. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out as we go along.”

“That sounds like a good plan. To figure things out…the two of us, together.”

Tom shyly reached down between the press of their bodies and found the heart of Ray. Tenderly he stroked the rough denim separating them, feeling for the hard steel of Ray’s flesh bucking against his fingertips. “Together?”

Ray nodded and stilled Tom’s hand. Steeling a kiss, he imagined all the things he had dreamed of finally becoming real. He had no idea how all the various parts and pieces fit together, only that they did. That Tom and he fit together so well. Ray navigated Tom into the bedroom they had shared since they were boys and shut the door behind him. Two twin-sized beds occupied most of the floor space. At one time the beds had been stacked neatly on top of one another as bunk beds, back when he had been R.J. and Tom had been better known as G.T.

As a kid, Tom had always demanded the top bunk. Ray had never minded, not really. More nights than not the two of them had ended up curled into an untidy ball of tangled covers and gangly limbs. Then they grew older and they grew up. Time had changed the both of them quite a bit since then. Tom had broken the beds apart and had claimed his side of the room a number of years ago. Ray had minded that.

Somehow, it seemed wrong to have any distance between them. For years, he had tolerated the division. Lay awake at night listening to Tom breathe. Staring off into the darkness and the space that had once seemed so impenetrable between them. Smiling, Ray stroked Tom’s cheek and went to work. He kicked the rug on the floor between the beds out of the way and pushed his bed into the center of the room.

Tom wiped the sweat of his palms on his jeans and shook his head. Ray had always had a way about him of knowing exactly the right thing to do. Tom shook off his nervousness and gripped the spindles of his headboard. The wooden legs made scraping sounds as he dragged his bed across the floor. There was a soft clang as the two beds collided in the center of the bedroom. At one time, the only thing he had wanted was distance from Ray. Now, the only thing Tom wanted was to be closer to him than he had ever been to any other person.

Ray climbed onto his side of the bed. The springs groaned as he balanced on one knee. His forearms flexed and his palms dug into the mattress. There was still time for Tom to back out. If Tom was nothing, he was prideful. If he chose to run, Ray would let Tom do so with his dignity intact. Tom mimicked Ray’s movements, bridging the gulf between them on his hands and knees till they met in the middle. Eye to eye with the narrow gap in the beds they had pushed together between them. Ray reached out his hand and waited for Tom to accept.

Tom placed his hand in Ray’s and lifted his eyes to meet Ray’s stare. Tom leaned forward and took a deep breath. Ray leaned into him and inhaled the breath Tom had exhaled. The world stopped spinning. There was nothing but this shared breath that mattered. No doubt. No fear. No turning back. Tom had seen Ray naked too many times to count, but this was the first time he had actually seen him. It didn’t matter that Ray was a man. It didn’t matter which one of them claimed the top bunk or the bottom. What mattered was Ray. It had always been Ray.

Ray let himself fall. In a tangle of limbs he fell and he fell hard. But, Tom was there to catch him. The two of them no longer had to dance around the subject of what Ray was. Ray no longer had to look away or steal forbidden glances. He no longer had to hate himself for wanting what he thought he’d never get. He could look. He could touch. And he did.

Tom matched him stroke for stroke, caress for caress, giving and taking, and loving. For Ray the act was the fulfillment of what was already there…what had always been there. Their souls reached for one another as their bodies entwined. It was the bliss of coming home after so long away. It was a cool drink of water after miles and miles of searching in the scorching heat of a desert. The loving was spiritual and went beyond the confines of physical limitations. At the end of it all, stretched out on the sheets, his body heated and slick with sweat and Tom dozing lazily and quite contented in his arms, Ray had never been happier.

Ray reached out a fingertip to brush a stray hair out of Tom’s eyes. Tom had freed him and in the process, freed himself. He wouldn’t have thought it was possible for his wolf to bond with another male. He had assumed that he would have lovers, but no great life long love. His wolf was smarter than he was. His wolf had chosen his mate. And for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind. Somehow, everything finally made sense. Tom’s eyes popped open and their gazes met. Tom greeted him with a lazy smile of contentment. If Tom minded being bonded to a male, it didn’t show. “Are you ok? With me? With this?”

Tom considered how to answer Ray’s question. Ok? Hell, he was fucking fantastic. They were mated. Sometimes, the wolf chose for a person and it kind of happened. But, Tom didn’t kid himself about one truth. His wolf hadn’t chosen. He had and so had Ray. He reached up and dragged Ray’s lips to his, thoroughly and absolutely kissing the shit out of the man, erasing all doubts.

Together they’d deal with the pack. They’d face his father and Tracker. Make them understand. Acceptance didn’t matter for shit. The pack’s blessing was inconsequential. What mattered was the two of them and everything else could be damned. They couldn’t start a family in the traditional sense. But, it didn’t matter. They had each other.

Chapter 94

Megan sat on the roof watching the buzz of activity in the house across the street. The windows glowed with warm yellow light from inside. The new tenants hadn’t gotten around to hanging curtains and blinds in their zeal to move in and set up housekeeping. From her perch she could smell the sweet tang of lemon wax and pungent aroma of fresh paint. Some of the tidbits she had left behind sat on the curb with signs taped to them in the hopes that someone would snag up the hodgepodge collection as treasure instead of trash.

Megan wasn’t offended that the new owners didn’t want the leftovers of somebody else’s life in their new home. She hadn’t wanted the bits and pieces or the life that she had left behind they represented either. The new occupants seemed nice enough, eager and happy to be getting a fresh start at a bargain price. There had been a few disputes over where to place this or put that and over what shade of blue to paint the bedroom. But, the spats were quickly resolved with a kiss and a compromise.

The couple, newly in love and newlywed, had big plans for the old house. Not at first, of course, but eventually after they had made their way in the world. For now, her old bedroom would serve as a study. Megan already knew the smaller of the two bedrooms wouldn’t be a refuge of quiet peace for long. Baby fever had no loyalty to the books lining the shelves.

For the first time since her new life had begun, Megan found herself wondering what her future might have been. Too many times, she worked with what she had instead of thinking about alternative outcomes. She was Carter’s right hand. She served a purpose perhaps greater than bringing the next generation into existence. The world was too crowded as it was. Maybe, she’d get credit from the universe for reducing her carbon footprint. She had never liked the hideous shade of pink her mother had insisted on painting her bedroom anyway.

She was glad Dena had found such an eager couple to buy the old house. The thought of the rooms filled with happiness brought peace and closure to her. Megan knew now she could walk away and never look back. She heard footsteps on the shingles of the roof behind her. She recognized the sound of the cat like graceful footsteps as well as she did her own. “They seem like nice people.”

Carter always knew where to find Megan. She was as familiar to him as his own right hand. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how much of an extension of him she had truly became over the years. Megan stared intently at the house. She had wanted to profits to go into the Guardian’s coiffeurs. He had other plans. The Guardians didn’t need the profits from the sale of the house. Megan had more money at her fingertips than she could possibly spend. There was one good thing about having an eternity and a little patience to wait for a few wise investments to pay off. There was always plenty of money. The couple, they might not know it yet, but their bank account had mysteriously grown exponentially.

Carter crouched on the peak of the roof and waited for Megan to say her last goodbye. He had watched her evolve from a frightened young girl into a woman. In so many ways he reminded her so much of Yessette, or rather the woman Yessette might have been if.