Dawn Unleashed

A couple of mile run on the treadmill might help to clear his mind, but John Mark, had banned him from the gym under the guise of saving his strength for what was to come. Yeah, he was going to need his strength to walk those last few steps straight into the arms of death. The brothers had told him under no uncertain terms how this was going to go down. Having the life sucked out of him to the last heartbeat didn't sound like fun times. They'd all been where he was about to go. Alone, slightly terrified, and human, watching the hands of the clock tick slowly by until time ran out.

His leathers, stiff, new, and shiny black, hung in the closet waiting for him to wear them. There was a chance he might not get the opportunity to break them in. The brothers had made certain he understood that as well. Sometimes, the blood didn't take hold and once you were dead. Well, there wasn't any coming back from that. His fingers fiddled with the pendant around his neck, digging the blunt points of the cross into the pads and under his nails.

The pain helped him to focus on the bigger picture. Death wasn't so scary. Dying though, that was another story. He supposed there were worse ways to go. At least he knew the how, the time, and the place of his scheduled demise. That was certainly more than most people got. Cole restlessly tossed on the bed. He forced his eyes closed and tried not to think about the things that terrified him the most. To a certain degree, death would be far easier than opening his eyes and seeing the world, irrevocably altered and yet so much the same, through his new vampire eyes.

He'd never been necessarily good or particularly bad. Ok, so he'd done bad things, but he'd since then redeemed himself of any wrong through the sweat and pain he'd endured in the past six months. Cole didn't suppose there was a place in the afterlife reserved specifically for the spiritually mediocre. With less than two hours to go he truly didn't have a mind to doubt the existence of God or of heaven or hell. Either he'd go up or he'd go down. He preferred up, definitely up, but if he went down instead, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing he'd given the salvation of his soul his best shot.

Most of the brothers were believers in a higher power. It probably had something to do with stepping a foot into the grave and living to talk about it. Doc with his incense, chanting in words Cole didn't understand, and waving of feathers, was perhaps the most spiritual man Cole had ever met. Doc had tried his best to impart his wisdom, but until now Cole had remained a skeptic.

There was always Keene. The embodiment of what a good Catholic boy should be. He prayed like a madman for hours in the chapel Chris had built for him, for all of them, in the very heart of the compound. Keene clung to the belief that God didn't abandon anybody no matter how bad a person was, but rather it was people that abandoned God. Keene believed wholeheartedly that heaven had a special place for beings like them. Even now, as badly as Cole wanted and needed to hold onto that faith, he wavered at minus two hours and counting.

The Great Father was too cryptic in his beliefs for Cole to make any sense of them. Maybe, that was in part due to the fact that Drew had seen the goddess to which he prayed first hand. There wasn't quite anything like that to make a believer out of the most agnostic of souls.

Cole didn't have much interaction with the pack. From what little he knew though the wolves were staunch believers in the spirit and the goddess. Beings of both ethereal and physical body, their ties were to the earth beneath their paws and the air they drew forth into their lungs.

His mother had an old family bible perched up high on a shelf out of reach of the destructive fingers of his half brothers and sisters. He'd never bothered to dust it off and crack open the cover. Before, the words on the thin, crinkly pages had never mattered much. Cole could recall bits and pieces of scripture. Scraps of wisdom he'd heard at funerals and weddings and somehow managed to pick up along the way. Psalm 23 might be appropriate for the situation. He got up from the bed and paced around the room before giving in and dropping to his knees.

Dim light from the crack beneath the bathroom door spilled across the floor. The thick nap of the carpet was soft beneath his knees. Whether it was at the feet of God or man, he'd never knelt in humility and asked for any intercession on his part before. The effect of kneeling was as intended and he'd never felt so small and insignificant in his life. "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want." Cole paused trying to remember the next part and came up short. He could not remember which words followed. There was something about still waters and green pastures, but he didn't know the exact order of the sentences.

Not wanting to further embarrass himself in front of God. Thanks to his lack of basic knowledge and essential stupidity of all things heavenly, he quickly shut his trap. Silence was better than stumbling over words that failed him when there was so much to say. He ended the prayer with a quick Amen, but stayed kneeling on the floor with his eyes closed and head bowed, grappling, reaching deep within himself to feel the presence of God.

Cole couldn't remember the twenty-third Psalm, but he did remember the meaning of the word Amen. He didn't know where or when he'd picked up that particular trivial fact. Maybe, it wasn't such a trivial fact at all though. Amen loosely translated meant 'so be it' and really, now on the verge of what he was about to do. What better word was there to use and what greater peace was there to make within himself? He whispered the word over and over again. Uttered it into the darkness until it became a pray all of its one. Whether he lived or he died was only partially up to him. The rest of it rested in the hands of something bigger, something more than he would ever be. "Amen. So be it. Amen."

Chapter 7

Hunter stared out into the calm stillness of the pines. So far, he'd managed to keep the pack master from reaching a final verdict regarding his son. Daniel was just a boy. He didn't understand what his decision meant. At eighteen, how could he? He was in the infancy of his growing power. A power that had come upon him way too soon for him to fully appreciate what it meant.

There was still time to get him back. Kidnap his son, if he had to. Daniel had always been the reckless one, impulsive, and always in such a hurry to be a man. His son was a man now and the pack master had forbidden any intercession on Daniel's behalf. "Every man has to come to his own conclusions about what to do with his life," the Supreme Pack Master had said in his stoic wisdom. But, as a father, Hunter felt compelled to do something before it was too late and he lost his son forever.

Marianne slouched over a bowl of cereal at the dining room table and watched her dad out of the corner of one eye. An untouched mug of coffee rested in his grip. He stared off into some distant point. He was probably not even aware that she sat less than ten feet away from him.

Even though he was handsome for his age. He seemed to have aged another ten years in a matter of months. Worry lines that hadn't been there just a week ago bordered the corners of his eyes and mouth. Gray had started to invade his dark hair at the temples. Her father was leaner now than she'd ever seen him. Lean, not in a healthy way, but simply because he usually didn't bother to keep himself properly fed. He was distracted more of the time than not and was here, but not really here.

A part of her wanted to hate Daniel for what he'd done to their father, but in a way she understood it. The lure of bigger and better places could suck a person in. Tristen, the oldest of her siblings, was settling contentedly into the happiness of married bliss, parenthood, and routine. Daniel had never been a homebody. He'd never, ever had a content bone in his body. Ever. His was a restless spirit filled with wanting. His whole life, he'd always dreamed of more. Though he'd never been able to define exactly what more consisted of.

These days, not even Gina, her step mom, seemed to be the comfort to her dad she'd once been. Her father was withdrawing, more and more as the days passed. Returning back to the place he'd been after their mother died. Marianne and her brothers had lost him once. She didn't want to lose him again. She didn't want a Father in Absentia. She needed her dad now more than ever. But, she was as helpless as Gina to pull him back.

At thirteen, she'd abandoned the braids and pigtails in exchange for flowing hair that stopped at her waist. Her collection of t-shirts with glittery hearts, rainbows, and ponies had been upgraded to knit sweaters, leggings, and layer after layer of scarves. She was getting boobs and curves, finally. Her father, so preoccupied by Daniel, had barely noticed that she was beginning to grow up right before his eyes.

"Dad."

"What is it, Mouse?"

She dropped her spoon in the cereal bowl. The metal clattered off the empty insides of the bowl. He hadn't bothered to spare her as much as a glance. What could she say to pull him back from the edge? Beg for his attention? Threaten to leave like Daniel had? Dejectedly, she sighed and shook her head. "Never mind."

Hunter rose from his perch on the stool by the sliding glass door and dumped the cold coffee in his mug down the kitchen sink. He was alienating his daughter, again, and the sigh of her disappointment stung him deeply. Mouse, she was growing up so fast. Trapped in the middle of that awkward stage where she was so unsure about everything and needed constant mentoring and reassurance.

Tristen was a father now himself and he needed the guidance only a father could provide. Hunter's only grandchild was cute as a damn button. With one bat of her lashes and with those green eyes she'd inherited from her mother she'd have Tristen wrapped around her little finger before too much longer. Tristen and Kacie were already making plans to expand their family. Tristen had always loved kids and Kacie loved him too much to deny him his heart's truest desires. This was a dangerous time for Tristen and Kacie, as Hunter well knew. Too many times the babies so desperately wanted didn't come or if they did, it was not without risk.

Gina and he were a fairly new couple themselves. She'd undergone plenty of changes for him. Before this mess with Daniel had happened the two of them had been so close. They'd even ventured to begin discussions about starting a family. Gina was nervous and uncertain about the whole thing. She filled her days with busyness and most nights, the nights when he'd wander the house endlessly till dawn, curled up in an empty bed with a novel. Hunter didn't even know the title of the book on her nightstand. There hadn't been talk about having a baby and neither one of them had taken the steps to initiate making a baby in weeks.

Daniel was at the forefront of everyone's mind. Nobody talked about him, as if mentioning his name was taboo. More than likely, no one knew exactly what to say and it was safer not to bridge the subject of Daniel at all. His family was beginning to fall apart. It was up to him and only him to put them back together again. "Marianne, I have something to tell you."

She raised an eyebrow at her dad's use of her given name instead of her nickname. He didn't glance away from the patio door to meet her eyes. Two could play the cold shoulder routine. She pretended to be more interested in her empty cereal bowl than she was in anything he had to say. She was listening though. "What is it, Dad?"

"I might not be back for a long while. I'm going after Daniel. I'm going to do whatever it takes to bring him home."

Marianne beamed up at her father. Not that he'd trusted her with such an important piece of information before. Nothing was a secret around this house for very long. It was that he'd always taught her that the pack master's word was law. The penalties for disobedience were harsh and unpleasant. He was willing to risk his own punishment for Daniel. She learned something more in those few sentences hanging in the air between them. That sometimes, rules, even the best intended ones, were meant to be broken.

Her father could be very convincing when he wanted to be. What would happen if he couldn't convince Daniel to come home? Daniel still had a place at the table, because she insisted on setting one. With the pack though, he had already lost his place. Fighting his way back in and gaining their trust again was not going to be easy, if impossible. The pack might have given up and turned their backs on him, but her father hadn't and neither would she. "Go for it, Dad."

Chapter 8

O'Sullivan stormed in circles around and around his bedroom, working hard at controlling the anger that boiled within him. So far, he'd given Daniel everything he'd ever dreamed of. What, exactly, was his investment yielding in return? Nothing! Yessette cowered in the corner, an innocent victim of his outrage. She'd done her best to work her magic and not even she had been enough to coax the boy into revealing his wolf. Eric smoothed his hand over his tightly drawn back ponytail, curling the ends between his fingers as he glowered down at her. There was a suitable option to his current predicament. Obviously, if Daniel wouldn't or couldn't, as he claimed, produce his wolf, Eric would have to find another one. "I need another wolf." But, how, exactly how, was he going to get one without the boy's help?

Daniel was no fool. Stupid, yes, but he was not a complete fool. He'd never knowingly betray his own people. The boy had exhausted Eric's boundless patience and now Eric wanted results. Ignoring Yessette's snivels from the corner, he set about plotting exactly how he'd go about getting a replacement wolf. There was only one person he trusted in the world to get the job done. Himself.

Daniel showered and shuffled through the expensive clothing crammed into his closet. Eric had a real nice operation here. How he made his fortune, Daniel could only guess and probably really didn't want to know about it. Ultimately, it didn't matter what Eric did to earn his money. It mattered more that he had plenty to burn and Daniel possessed plenty of will to spend it.

Without his wolf, he couldn't detect the scent of the person lightly tapping on his bedroom door. He suspected it was Yessette come back to beg forgiveness. Let her beg. He could do with some amusement. Life around here was boring and decidedly more tedious without her. "Come in."

Eric quickly put a lid over his simmering anger and opened the door. He pasted an amicable smile on his face that he really didn't feel and stepped inside the room. Seeing Daniel zip up a pair of two hundred dollar jeans and cram his feet into fifteen hundred dollar loafers grated him. The bed was in a total disarray of mangled silk sheets and antique goose down comforters. Eric picked his way through the small fortune of clothing tossed haphazardly on the floor and perched on the edge of a wingback chair worth far more than the room's current occupant. "Daniel, I think its time we had a talk."

"Is this about Yessette? Did she send you to plea her case?" Eric was a pompous ass. He walked across the room, scowling at the mess and plopped his fancy butt down on the edge of a chair. Eric was the living definition of the word metrosexual. With his two thousand dollar cashmere suits and Italian leather loafers, the net worth of his clothing alone probably totaled more than the gross national product of a small country. Daniel didn't think he'd ever seen Eric with as much as a hair out of place and it wasn't now. Gathered tightly in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, the gold clasp used to secure it out of his face probably cost more than the average family of four earned in a year.

Eric was all about image, how he projected it and how he played it to his advantage. He sat with his legs crossed at the knee and his hands casually resting on his thighs, smiling at him as if they were best friends. Daniel knew better than that. Eric was an old bastard, a really, really old bastard and he had no friends.

"No." Eric studied Daniel. The oaf didn't know a damn thing about style or presentation. Daniel's dark hair hung loosely about his face, covering his dark eyes so that the expression behind the bangs was unreadable. Daniel had not developed fully into a man yet and still had the softness of youth and baby fat about his face. He did not have the size and bulk so common to the brotherhood. Eric had heard through rumors that the brothers and the pack were cousins of a sort. He could see the similarities in Daniel's russet skin tone and fullness of his cheekbones and that long, aquiline nose.

At the ripe old age of eighteen, Daniel thought he'd seen the world and he wanted it. His innocence about the way the world truly was and his eager hunger for more, always for more, had proven to be Eric's best weapon against him. Oh, yes Daniel had the tasted the sweet fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, but he had yet to learn of its true poison. Daniel sat on the bed propped up on a mountain of pillows totally disregarding him in preference of some electronic toy Eric had purchased for a meager penance. "I told you there'd be favors I'd ask of you from time to time. I've come to tell you that its time for me to call one in for payment."

"Ok sure, what do you want?" Daniel knew damn good and well what Eric wanted. He simply couldn't give it to him. He thumbed through the display on his iPod and pretended to ignore Eric. Maybe, if he feigned disinterest long enough, Eric would simply go away.

"You like the lifestyle I've afforded you. Do you not?" Eric calculated the boy's reaction. After all these centuries of living there was little the boy could hide from his keen senses of observation. "And I know how very much Yessette means to you. It'd be a shame if I had to forbid her from your visits or alter your time together. True?"

"You can't do that." Just the threat of what Eric proposed to do was enough to have him staring up at the man in disbelief. Eric couldn't keep Yessette and he apart. Sure, Yessette was pissed at him, but she'd come around. All couples had lover's quarrels from time to time. She loved him for his body and the blood that flowed through his veins. He wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise. In actuality though, he wished she loved him for him, but what could he really expect from her given the company she kept. She truly didn't know any better, but he was working on that.

O'Sullivan grinned and dipped his head. He had the boy by the literal balls when it came to Yessette. The fool believed he was in love and Yessette, he'd have to give her credit where it was due, had Daniel convinced that loved him in return. "Oh, but I can and I will. I can do anything I want with Yessette. Unfortunate things. Unless, you comply."

Daniel's posture stiffened. The bastard was talking about hurting Yessette. Eric was a very powerful man and even a fool would think twice about denying him what he asked. O'Sullivan held the power of death literally in his palm. Daniel had seen him unleash that unholy power once before and knew how quickly the man could transform into a cold hardhearted killer. "What do you want me to do?"

"Simple. It's such a small favor, nothing really, compared to the life of one you hold so dearly." He had the boy's attention. All of the arrogance and cockiness was gone out of Daniel's expression, leaving a quaking child in its wake.

"What?" Daniel's stomach turned at the thought of what Eric might require him to do. That O'Sullivan had threatened Yessette's life so easily and so casually terrified him. "What do you want me to do?"