Darkest Before Dawn

"And I'm dinner," Nikki said, completing his thought. Nice. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up at full attention in response to the dread spreading down her spine. Wonderful. How long could Patrick hold off? Exactly how long did she have left to live? She shuffled in her corner and forced her eyes to focus on the battered laces of her sneakers. She couldn't bear to look at the man that would kill her...sooner or later.

"You're safe, from me, at least. For the moment, I'm in control." He couldn't look at Nikki. Couldn't stand the fear in her eyes. Would it help if he assured her that when the time came, she'd feel no pain. She'd simply die? He doubted it.

"What happens if you aren't in control?" Nikki's chin trembled in fear. Tears stung her eyes. She wasn't ready to die. Not like this. She was supposed to be having the time of her life in the big city. She'd watched every episode of Sex in the City at least three times. Her life was supposed to be one long string of whimsical adventures, just like Carrie's, Samantha's, and Amanda's. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to get kidnapped. Vampires weren't supposed to exist. Death was one adventure she could do without.

Patrick couldn't answer her question. He knew he was slowly loosing the battle with his hunger; it was just a matter of time. Taking a deep breath, he told a lie. Perhaps the biggest lie of all. "I won't."

Nikki exhaled the breath she held. She wanted to believe Patrick. She really did. But, she could see the burning of hunger in his eyes. She knew that she was on borrowed time, they both were. "I hope you're right." Settling into her corner on the opposite side of the room, she forced her eyes to meet his. "Patrick, why is this happening? Why you? Why me?"

He could give her a hundred reasons why. Fill hours with stories of his brothers and their battles with the Rogues. But, in the end, it wouldn't matter. He'd still be hungry. He'd still kill her, when the last of his hold on his control slipped through his grip. And she'd still die. The lies came easier now. "Our lucky day, I guess."

Chapter 2

John Mark navigated the SUV into the parking garage and pulled into a space. The drive into the city had taken longer than expected. Rush hour, something people didn't worry about back home. Sheepishly, he grinned at Robert, "I didn't expect the morning traffic to be quite that bad. No wonder everyone takes the train." He hopped out of the driver's side door and bound to the back to gather supplies. He was grateful that Alex had agreed to loan them her apartment, getting all these bags and totes into a hotel suite would have definitely raised some eyebrows.

Robert took his time, wiggling the key into the lock. Privately scoffing at John Mark. Watching the big warrior out of the corner of his eye as he took his time with the lock. The key turned and the door opened wide. He scowled, surveying the living room. There was overturned furniture and the contents of emptied drawers scattered everywhere. He withdrew his dagger and motioned for his wife and John Mark to follow.

John Mark released himself from the burden of bags and totes, withdrawing his weapon. He pushed Robert back and crept inside the apartment. He shrugged in dismay. The place was clean. The break in had to have happened days, if not weeks ago. There was no trace of a scent, except for Alex's familiar floral undertone. He drug in the boxes of supplies, hurriedly shutting and locking the door behind them.

Danielle's mind was occupied with thoughts of Robbie as she scrambled about picking up Alex's scattered belongings. Thankfully, her daughter wouldn't be in this awful city much longer. In less than a month, she would be graduating college and then coming home to help with the family business for the summer. She watched John Mark as he emptied the boxes and arranged their contents with meticulous care. The blades glimmered in the afternoon sun fighting its way in through the drawn blinds.

She smiled back at John Mark as he grinned, tilting the blade of a sword watching the shimmering reflections it cast on the wall. She definitely had plans for him. Matchmaking on her mind; she hummed, busying herself with the task of restocking the empty fridge.

Robert cursed, switching around the wiring on the receiver, for the third time. The plan was for him and his wife to pose as tourists while they scoured the city, looking for possible leads. If Patrick were still alive, they would find him. He held the tiny listening device next to his ear and spoke into the nearly invisible microphone, "Testing, testing," his voice rang into his ear. Finally, he had gotten the thing wired up right. "Danielle, lets get ready," he said, gathering up the tiny microphones and wires.

"First we eat lunch." Danielle insisted, knowing that once her husband found what he thought was a lead. He wouldn't stop. She divvied up the sandwich into two halves and poured some milk into a glass, staring at him, tapping her fingers on the countertop until he gave up and obediently sat at the tiny bar to eat.

"Ah," John Mark still was somewhat uncomfortable with his dietary restrictions. What he wouldn't give for a nice juicy cheeseburger right now. He watched Danielle divvy out the goods. Peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat, not exactly high cuisine. But, better than what was on his menu. After the couple left out on a preliminary tour of downtown, he would go out for a quick bite. Too bad it wouldn't be a cheeseburger. Most likely a scraggly alley cat or maybe a squirrel or two would be the best he could scrounge up on such short notice. He wrinkled his nose in distain at the thought of snacking on someone's pet. But, a boy's gotta eat. "I'll go rig up the alarms on the bedroom windows while you two are finishing up," he said, making his exodus from the dining area as graceful as he could to hide his awkwardness.

Robert chased down a bite of the dry, sticky peanut butter, eying his wife. "You don't plan to report the break in to Lucien, do you?" he asked. By now, he knew his wife better than he knew himself. If they reported the break in, Lucien would pull them out of the city and send them home. Being human, with so few options on how they could really help the Sons, this mission was their one big chance to do something, something BIG to help out.

Danielle smiled widely, as she was known to do whenever she was up to something. "No, they have enough on their plates without worrying about this. Nothing looks like it was taken, so I figure it was a rogue just grasping at straws. No harm done. A human would have swiped all the electronics and any jewelry or cash. Since nothing was taken, it had to be a vampire. I want Patrick back and if we told Lucien, he might scrap the mission. We will mention it when we get back. Don't you think that would be best?" She batted her eyes at him innocently.

"Yeah sure," Robert replied, forcing the rest of his lunch down. He was ready to get the show on the road and save the day. After all, he had a business to get back to and the busy season was fast approaching. Ice cream season waited for no catastrophe.

Dusk was settling in as John Mark finished connecting the wires and checking the earpieces. The couple was ready to go out. John Mark slid his earpiece into place and nodded at the sound of Robert and Danielle's voices echoed in his ear. "All set."

He stood, watching through the window, listening in on the couple as they argued on whether to take the bus or the train. Danielle always won. They were taking the train, as she suggested. John Mark didn't know why Robert even tried to deny her.

The apartment turned a dusty gray. He could see perfectly fine and hadn't bothered with the lights. The sun sank low behind the high rises. Darkness was his best friend and it was time to scrounge up some dinner. He left the door to the apartment unlocked, hoping someone would come back to finish what they started. A scent trail would be nice. Right now, he had shit to go on. Fucking rogues. He scowled down the deserted alley, hell bent on finding something to call supper. The city had a problem with strays. Where was one when he needed one? "Here kitty, here kitty, " he murmured under his breath.

Chapter 3

Kore planted her spiked heels on the table, lounging back in the chair examining her nails in forced nonchalance. "Brother, what do you expect me to do? He simply will not feed."

Kiros kicked the table out from under her feet, sending it skidding into a nearby wall. A shower of plaster rained down on the sleek surface. "Damn it Kore, I want him to be able to at least form an intelligible sentence. I need that tracker!" As much as he loved his sister...there were times.

Kore rose to her feet, shaking loose bits of plaster and debris from her long, silky, black hair. "Really Kiros, was that little temper tantrum necessary?" Seeing the seething fury in her brother's eyes, she tried another approach. "I know how important this is to you. Let me see what I can do." Gently, she stroked her nails down Kiros's shoulder to placate him. The last thing she needed was one of her brother's illogical tantrums ruining her plans.

"Thank you darling," Kiros closed his eyes and leaned his head on his sister's fingers. He found her touch calming and soothing. She could be a bitch. He'd known that long before he turned her. Right now, he needed her ruthlessness to achieve his goal. She could keep the spoils for herself once he had what he wanted. Until then, she'd better play along.

Forcing a smile for her brother, Kore turned and sauntered down the hall. She really didn't care if the tracker lived or died. He was inconsequential. She just needed to keep her brother placated and under control, for just a little while longer. She slid her fingers along the smooth surface of the steel door. The room had been re-outfitted for their guests. The Son was weak and the girl terrified. The combination of aromas was tantalizing. The Son still had enough strength to fight. But, he was beginning to wane in his convictions. She could smell it, almost tangible in the air.

The rotting, abandoned hotel was hardly a worthy accommodation for her. But, it had its purposes. The city that sprawled around the crumbling building had simply forgotten it even existed. "Patrick," she whispered so softly that only he alone could hear. No need to risk an emotional outburst from the petrified human girl. The last thing she wanted was to remind him of how human the girl was.

"Patrick why do you refuse your urges? Give in and eat. You know she's delicious. Eat." She traced circles on the door with her nail as she listened, waiting. "Just try a sip, that's all just a sip. What's the harm, nobody will know. I'm good at keeping secrets, Patrick. I'll never tell."

Patrick chewed on the inside of his jaw. He struggled to maintain control of his senses. His vision had faded to a narrow beam, focusing solely on the soft flesh of the girl's neck. Aroused by the blood pulsed through her veins. "Just a sip," he whispered. The bitch responsible for his capture was right. Nobody would ever know. He could do it. He could get away with it. Its what they wanted him to do. Patrick crept up on Nikki's sleeping form. A sip from her might be enough to ease his suffering. He extended his hand, placing it lightly on her forearm. She was so warm against his frozen fingers.

"Take a taste," Kore leaned her forehead on the cool steel of the door. She heard the sounds of scuffling on the other side. Smiling she whispered more suggestions, "That's good Patrick, so good, so good." Too bad she intended to kill the Son after he served his usefulness. Breaking him, watching his morality crumble like the brick and mortar of the hotel decaying around her was going to be so much fun.

Nikki's eyes snapped open. She gasped, startled. "Patrick?" She slid her arm from beneath his fingers. He was so cold. He loomed over her. The white of his fangs gleamed in the dim light that filtered in through the missing board of the window. "Patrick, it's me Nikki. Are you ok?" her voice trembled as she spoke. Of course, he wasn't ok. He was looking at her the way a starving animal might eye a piece of steak. She scooted as far away from him as she could, pinned between his body and the wall. There wasn't anyplace else for her to go. She had no means of escape.

Patrick traced a finger down her cheek. "So beautiful." He whispered. His voice held an almost trancelike quality to it. He forced her chin up running his palm along her throat. He hissed at the bounding of her pulse burning against his skin. He drew a sharp breath. His body quivered with the force of his hunger. The prey smelled of fear and terror, and of blood, so much blood. The sharp sting of a slap, hard and burning against his cheek, brought him back around.

"Patrick! Snap out of it!" Nikki commanded shakily. Desperate to live, even if it was for just one more day, she'd done the only thing she could think of and slapped him back into reality. Despite the desperateness of her situation, that she was hungry, filthy, and had little hope of living out her dreams in the big city, she wanted to live as long as she could.

Hitting Patrick was like hitting a brick wall. And it hurt like a bitch. Her fingers and right palm throbbed wildly with each beat of her heart. Nikki exhaled a relieved sigh at the flicker of realization in his eyes. That was close...too close. "We okay now?" she asked cautiously.

Patrick groaned and retreated to his corner of the room. The girl hit like a golden gloves champ. That sudden explosion of pain rocketing through his jaw was enough to call him back, for the moment. "Yeah, we're good." His healing was diminished due to his weakness and he could feel the blossom of a bruise spread along his cheek. "Thanks." He lowered his head in shame, thinking about what he'd almost done.

Nikki scoffed, "No problem. Anytime." She stood and stretched, keeping a wary eye on Patrick's huddled form. Her posture was casual. Or as casual as could be, considering she was a lamb biding time until the slaughter. Her eyes scanned the dimness of the room. The day was succumbing to night and soon it would be too dark for her to see any details she might have missed. She needed to find a way out and fast. Otherwise, she knew with certainty; she would definitely be invited to dinner, as the main course.

Patrick watched her with all the kindness and care of a cat watching a fat mouse scamper across the floor. Ultimately, he might regret killing her. But, he'd still do it. She understood he wouldn't be able to help himself. It was in his nature. She'd be pissed when he finally caved. Not that it mattered, she'd be every bit as dead. Carefully, she scrambled, balancing precariously on the rotted wood of the windowsill. Stretching and struggling to pry free another board. There had to be a way out.

"Damn it!" Kore huffed, turning away from the door. Maybe, another day would change the tracker's mind. How much longer could it possibly go on? Angrily, she stomped down the hall. The girl had proven resourceful. More so than Kore could have anticipated. Too bad, the basement was full to capacity. She could use a good soldier instead of that mish-mash of cannon fodder her brother insisted on keeping.

Chapter 4

Janine had not moved out of her perch on the windowsill all day. And she was not planning to move until Patrick came home. She'd watched the first rays of dawn struggle through the cloud cover for a foothold on the day. And watched the darkness streak across the sky to take its place when the sun finally lost its' footing and silently slipped away.

She didn't care what Alex or her parents thought. She didn't care that she hadn't had a shower since yesterday and hadn't eaten in at least twice that long. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered. She didn't care how crazy her erratic behavior must appear to everybody else. The only thing she cared about was sitting here on the narrow windowsill watching over the electric Christmas candle with its meager light barely cutting a hole through the darkness outside. She was going to sit here as long as it took. As if by her presence in the windowsill would bring Patrick home.

"Janine, please," Alex pled with her best friend to no avail. Janine barely flinched at the sound of her voice. She just kept staring at nothing. Just as she had been doing all day. Alex couldn't help but pace the floors behind Janine. This was so unlike her best friend. So unlike her to forgo her appearance and sit with her hair an unbrushed rats nest of tangles and her face blotchy and reddened with unshed tears. Wrapped in the same robe she'd been wearing ever since she got the news Patrick was missing. Speechless. Motionless. Staring, staring, staring out that window, her butt perched on the narrow windowsill way too narrow to be comfortable.

Alex had tried tempting Janine with an overpriced latte, purchased from the coffee shop in town. No luck. Janine wouldn't budge. She'd begged. Coaxed. Pleaded. Nothing. Alex cast a despairing glance at her parents, but they were at as much of a loss as she over the dilemma of what to do with Janine. Alex's lips thinned in a scowl. "Patrick wouldn't like this. He wouldn't want you doing this. He'd want you to get your ass out of that window and do something. Anything."

Janine looked up at Alex, temporarily distracted by his name on her best friend's lips. Way to fight below the belt. Alex talked about Patrick like he was already dead. He wasn't. Janine refused to believe that he was beyond their reach. "How do you know? You barely know him," she snapped.

Lucien frowned at the harsh bite of Janine's tone. He did not like anything upsetting his wife. And Alex was definitely upset. She'd been trying all day to coax Janine out of that windowsill to no avail. Hell, they all had done what they could aside from physically removing her from her perch. Alex's mother, Leigh, had tried every motherly trick in the book to get through Janine's stubborn protests. Alexander, Alex's father, had demanded, in his sternest, fatherly tone to order her out of the windowsill. Alex had used everything she knew to spark Janine's interest in the outside world. Even he had done a fair amount of begging in an attempt to get her out of the windowsill. Nothing had worked.

Lucien had kept Janine posted on the search party's every move. She knew as much as he did. The problem, there just wasn't much to report, yet. The team had barely gotten in place and was just now moving into the city. She had to give it more time. Starving herself, depriving herself of sleep and comfort wasn't going to bring Patrick home any sooner.

"Enough!" Lucien barked. He could and he would get her out of that damned windowsill. Janine would sleep. She would eat. And she would shower, if he had to physically force her through the basic functions of living, he would. And he was about to.

Alex snapped her head up at the sound of her husband's impatient tone. He wasn't helping. Sure, he could vamp Janine into sleeping. But, it wouldn't change a thing. The minute she woke up, pissed and more determined than ever, she'd be right back in the windowsill keeping vigil. "Don't, Lucien."

She sank onto the worn carpeting and pressed her back to the wall. Gently, Alex took Janine's cool fingers into her palm and gave them a light squeeze. "Janine, talk to me." With a nod, Alex gestured for everyone to clear out of the living room. This was girl time. And they needed a private moment. Something beyond Patrick's absence was causing this behavior in her best friend. Something Alex couldn't fathom. Janine was usually the ray of sunshine to any cloudy day. It wasn't like her to be so haunted, so plagued by darkness no matter how bad her situation.