Dawn's First Light

"Nope. No mistake. Dane called me." Lori smugly grinned up at Keene, patting the cushion beside her. Keene looked at her like she was an unlabeled, dinted can in the sale bin at the Super Center. And she couldn't help but take offense. What was she going to have to do? Get a straw and poke it in her carotid to get him to drink from her?

"I'll wait," Keene said, walking toward the door. He was not going to drink from her. Dane would have to come up with a more suitable donor for him. Otherwise he would do with out if she were the only option available to him.

Lori jumped to her feet and grabbed his hand. "No! You can't. They'll think I chickened out." She backpedaled trying to drag Keene's immovable bulk toward the couch. "I can do this." She smiled shyly up at him. He frowned down at her. Not even swayed in the least by her frantic tugs on his arm. "This is my first time unsupervised by the brothers. Please, don't go. I promise, I'll be ok. I can handle it. Don't judge me by my size and my age like everyone else does. I'm nineteen. An adult. I'm not a little kid. I know my own mind. And you have to give me the chance to prove myself."

Keene scrubbed his palm over the soft hair on his scalp. He could control himself. Of that he was sure. Lori looked too young and fragile for such a responsibility as feeding the brothers. But, he understood her eagerness to prove herself. She was doing the same thing he was, just trying to fit in and make her mark on the world. Her fingers around his wrist were warm and so delicate. Tiny compared to his. She could tug on him until she dropped from exhaustion and never budge him an inch. Against his better judgment, he walked across the room and sat on the couch. "Fine."

Lori sat down next to Keene and exhaled a triumphant sigh. Keene sat rigid as a statue beside her. He rested his hands on his lap and stared blankly at his feet. Ummmm, wasn't something supposed to be happening about right now? Some mothers and daughters had the birds and bees talk. Lori's mom wasn't that conventional. When Lori had turned eighteen her mom sat her down and explained the facts of life. They just weren't the facts she'd expected.

Lori grew up knowing about the Sons. And she always knew someday she'd take her place in their ranks, if she chose to. Some moms talked to their daughters openly about sex. She'd been spared that embarrassment in the form of pamphlets from the OB-GYN department her mom left on her bed on her sixteenth birthday. Her mom spoke openly of the mystical relationship between a donor and the Sons.

She knew the nuts and bolts of the mechanics behind the act. She'd donated before, just never without an audience. And in a way, this was just like reading those pamphlets. Lori knew what to do and how to do it. She'd just never done it.

Keene felt Lori's anticipation and her nervousness. He had never bitten someone who volunteered for it before. How hard could it be? The act was exactly the same. Instinctively, his body knew what to do. He'd pin her arms and hold her tightly to his chest to prevent her from struggling. He'd press his fangs into her flesh. And he'd drink. Simple. It wasn't exactly rocket science. He'd done it more times than he cared to remember.

But, Keene suddenly found himself nervous to act on the impulse. Even now, just thinking about her blood, his fangs extended dangerously sharp and long. He was embarrassed to open his mouth for fear that she'd see them. Before, none of that had mattered to him. Now, for some reason, it did. Perhaps, it was because for the first time ever, he couldn't see her as he usually saw his prey, as a victim. She was a person to him. Real. And holding her in his arms for the purpose of feeding from her, seemed like a forbidden liberty. "You know I'd never harm you."

Lori nodded and bit her bottom lip nervously. "I know." Her heart had to be racing at a million beats a minute. She tensed as Keene cautiously draped his arm across her shoulders and wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, guiding her closer. Their eyes met for a moment before her lids drifted shut. She was fully aware of his body, hard and muscular, pressing against her. His breath was hot and soft, tickling over her neck as he exhaled. This was a nice place to be. Snuggled protectively so close to him. Safe. Safe enough that she could fall asleep right here and now. She sighed and rested her cheek on his chest and drifted off, so peaceful, so warm, so safe, and so calm.

Keene had never held anyone while they slept. Ever. Her trust in him was a humbling experience. She succumbed to his spell without the least bit of hesitancy or fear. He was tempted to do nothing more than relish the warmth of her skin and watch her sleep. Her curves molded against his body. He had never held a woman in this way before. And he had no idea how wonderful and terrifying it truly was.

He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and tasted the hint of saltiness of summertime sweat. He usually preferred the carotid. The blood flowed faster and hastened the kill. The wrist was less painful, but it prolonged the suffering exponentially. A person could linger on and on before succumbing to death. And it was cruel to delay the inevitable. In this moment he hated Roark more than he ever had before. In him, Roark had the perfect killing machine. The bastard had never shown any compassion. Keene killed. He was never allowed to hold a human being the way he held Lori. And now, with Lori asleep in his arms, he knew why. He wouldn't have been able to kill them if he had.

Keene chose a vessel in Lori's shoulder close to the skin. He lapped at the vein, plumping it up and gently bit. Her blood was sweet and fresh. She tasted of vanilla, sugar, and youth. He drank one hesitant mouthful and then another. He did not want to mar one millimeter of her precious skin. Drawing on the wound would widen the punctures and cause bruising. And he promised he would not harm her. The blood flowed in a sweet torrent of life, coursing through his body to fuse with his cells.

Her thoughts flooded into his consciousness as the magic of her blood mingled with his to form a link. He fought to maintain control. But, she tasted so good and he could easily drain her dry. Take in the very last of her essence, and leave her for dead as he'd done to countless others. But, his promise rang in his ears. He would not harm her. Forcing himself to withdraw, he licked the wound closed and savored the drop on the tip of his tongue. He held Lori tightly, resting her head on his chest and gently smoothing down her hair with careful strokes as he waited for her to come around.

"Oh," Lori mumbled as her eyes popped open and she took stock of the fact that she was cuddled against Keene's broad chest. "You're done." She blushed and smiled up at him, shyly sliding out of his arms. She hadn't thought of it, but she wondered if he could taste the excess sugar floating around in her blood. If her blood type, A negative, had a particular flavor. She was careful about her diet. But, maybe she ate too much fat, thanks to the weekly family outing to Happy's, and her blood was too greasy. "I tasted ok, didn't I?"

Keene snorted in laughter. In all his years, he'd never been asked to deliberate the taste of someone's blood. He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his eyes. She blushed furiously pink and batted her lashes at him. "Delicious. Simply divine," he answered. The longer he stared into her eyes, the redder and hotter Lori's face became. He hadn't taken too much. The blush was evidence of that. But, he was a bit confused by the effect he had on her and the thoughts he read in her mind. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Lori glanced away from Keene's eyes. Oh shit, he could sense her emotions and possibly read her thoughts. She really must be a bit out of it still. Because in her head, she was thinking about how pretty his unusual gray eye color was and her skin still burned from where he'd pressed her against him. "Uh, yeah. I am." She beamed and quickly moved to the next topic to spare herself further embarrassment. "I did it!" Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He smoothed his hand down Lori's back, dismissing the spark of desire surging through him at the contact. She was youthful and vibrant. And he was jaded and had seen way too much during his long lifetime. But still, her youth was enticing and refreshing and for the first time in a long time, he felt as young as he'd been on the day he died. She'd offered her blood because she wanted to, because, she trusted him. And no one had ever trusted him with such a precious gift.

Lori hopped up from the couch, shooting Keene a triumphant smile. "Cool!" She trotted to the fridge for another can of sugary pop on her way out. Keene had given her the chance she needed to prove her worth. He hadn't doubted or underestimated her because of her youth or her size. She was truly one of the Sons now. And she had a feeling Keene would call her again. Finally, she had something to contribute.

Keene lounged back on the couch. Lori's blood surged through his veins, bonding and melding with his to give him strength and vitality he needed to face the trials. The taking of her blood formed a special link between the two of them. It was the same for all vampires, rogue or brother. Blood was more than cells and vital fluids. It held the key to a person's soul.

He hadn't wanted to be a killer. But the shouting of a victim's thoughts in his mind was more than he could bear. The only way to have his mind blessedly silent was to kill. Gradually, he learned to develop a tolerance for the mental invasion. Sharing his mind for a time was a small price to pay when compared to what would await him when he finally died. Hell had a special place for his kind. His hope was that abstaining from murdering his victims and dedicating what remained of his life to protecting humanity would earn him a lesser punishment for the lives he had taken. If he survived long enough and stopped the bloodshed, he might be absolved of his sins and simply die. Slip into the silence of oblivion into nothing. Heaven would never have him, no matter how many he saved or how obedient of a servant he was. And for a man like him, nothing was better than Hell.

He heard Lori's voice in his mind. Softly chattering in a stream of sugar infused thoughts. The more he took from her the stronger the link would become. He grinned, listening to her soft whispers in her head. He could not read every individual thought. He was not a telepath. But, got the gist of her mental dialogue. She was studying. Happy. Proud. And a bit excited to finally be seen as an adult by someone. Although she was a tad annoyed at her little sister for some reason he could only guess at.

The link was not the burden he imagined it to be. Sharing her thoughts was intriguing. He had no idea of the full range of human emotions. And he had to shuffle quickly to keep up with her line of thinking. She thought about so many different things at the same time. Curious, he honed in on Lori's mental signature, to see if he could pin down one singular thought. And he did. And for once, he was the one blushing.

Chapter 11

The aged vehicle shuddered and wheezed its last breath, exhaling a billowing cloud of bluish steam from under the hood. Kayla eased the hunk of scrap metal over to the side of the road and ground the key fruitlessly in the ignition. As she expected, nothing happened. The car was simply dead. She cursed and slammed her fists against the steering wheel as if, perhaps, by the force of her will, the car would start again. The lights on the dash flickered and there was nothing but the sound of a damning click-click-click from the engine as she turned the key. There wasn't any point of her to raise the hood and even try to pretend she knew how to fix whatever mechanical malfunction had killed the car.

On a bumpy gravel road surrounded by stubbly cornfields on either side and bordered by thick woods as far as her eyes could see, she was not in a good position. Far too visible and too out in the open, she'd be a sitting duck. Kayla looked up at the sky and frowned. There were a few hours of daylight left. On foot, it might take her every last second of it to get to the compound. Her memory was good; but she wouldn't be able to find her way in the dark. And she certainly wasn't going to sit on the side of a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. Out of options, she snatched the bear on the seat beside her and climbed out of the car. She didn't bother to pocket the keys. What was the point? One way or another whatever happened to her, if Roark or the Sons got to her first, she wouldn't need the car again.

Even though the fury of the sun was fading in the evening sky, it was still miserably hot. Kayla wished she'd had the forethought to grab a bottle of water from the gas station. A nice cold drink would be great right now. Her clothes stuck to her skin from the humidity in the air. Her skin was slick and sticky with sweat from the effort of walking along the side of the road. Gravel crunched under the soles of her tennis shoes with each laborious step. The air was dense and wet, hard to breathe. Everything was so quiet and still without so much as a slight breeze to rustle the tops of the trees. Kayla thought about pocketing the money she had left and ditching the bear along the side of the road. The pink fur made her hotter and stickier. But, she owed the fuzzy guy her life. And she'd already left too much behind.

Roark's men could be anywhere. Hiding in the woods watching her. Nervously, she looked behind her. The car was nothing more than a distant heap of orange-red rust in the distance. Her heart pounded in her chest and her fingers clenched around the bear. She was running out of time. If Roark's men were out there, tracking her. She wasn't going to make it this easy for them. Staying on the road, she was too visible. Traveling on foot, she was too slow. Terrified of either of her limited options. Of staying on the road and being snatched up. Or moving into the cornfields and surrounding woods and ending up hopelessly lost. She bit her bottom lip in indecision. Either way she could end up just as dead. And that outcome wasn't something she could think about.

The Sons had a nasty reputation and she'd seen even the most ruthless of Roark's men blanch at the mention of their name. But, they didn't kill humans. Or maybe, they did and the rumors were just bullshit. They hadn't killed Roark when they had the chance. Surely, they wouldn't kill her, at least, not right away. They might use her as a bargaining chip. Deliver her back to Roark in the name of peace. It was a good thing she hadn't stopped to think about that sooner, or she might have left Keene to take his chances. What other choice did she have though? None. She had no idea if her odds would have been better out there in the world on her own or here, throwing herself on their mercy. Keene wouldn't be able to protect her. For all she knew he was already dead.

Tears of frustration and fear welled in the corners of her eyes. Doubt clouded her judgment. It was really too late to back out now. She had nowhere else to go, even if she could change her mind. Kayla dried the tears on her cheeks with the bear's fuzzy paw and scrambled across the ditch that ran along the side of the road. Without the ribbon of the gray gravel road to guide her, she moved haphazardly through the uneven rows of calf height corn toward the woods. Moving in any direction was better than standing still and crying over a fate she had no control over.

Bryce thought he could do it. Confronted with the truth, he wasn't as ready to let it go as he thought. Bumping into Janine and Patrick wasn't something he was ready to do just yet. He'd made his peace and let her go. He was prepared to choke to death on the slice of humble pie on his plate. As long as he didn't have to see Janine until after he'd digested the bitter serving. He paced through the woods in agitation. Not begrudging them or their happiness, but hating himself for being such a wimp.

He couldn't live outside forever. Eventually, Dane would order him back inside. The brothers needed to put this behind them. He needed to put this behind him and face it like a man. His hurt needed to become a distant memory for all of their sakes. Who was he kidding? It was his ego that suffered the brunt of the blow. A bigger man might be able to move beyond it. Chalk the whole fiasco up as a lesson learned. He just didn't know if he had it in him to be that man. If he could be the man the brotherhood expected and Janine needed him to be.

Bryce lifted his face to the evening sky. A hot wind rustled the leaves overhead and rolled across his face. A scent carried on the breeze reached his nose. Human and very close. There was something else, something vaguely, nauseatingly sweet on the undercurrents of fresh air. Something dangerous. Rogue.

Bryce followed the scent. Letting the essence of human and rogue draw him further into the woods to the border of the cornfields and the gravel roads beyond. He saw her and stared in confusion. The girl looked familiar. Or rather the pink bear she carried jarred his memory more than she did. He inhaled the heated summertime air deep into his lungs. She was undoubtedly human. But, the sickeningly sweet smell of rouge clung to her, tainting her scent with its noxious fragrance.

He ducked into the dense cover of a thick outcropping of pines and scanned the woods. The brilliance of the evening sun was hell on his eyes and he didn't trust his vision beyond the glimmering prisms of color and light obstructing his view. He trusted his ears, which heard nothing beyond the sounds of the woods and her footsteps crunching through the underbrush. His nose was his best asset. And even it could be fooled on rare occasions. Judging by smell and sound, the girl was alone. But, he wasn't willing to bet his life or anyone else's life on his senses. He called out through the psychic link to his brothers. Backup never hurt. The girl could be a decoy. And he would not take any chances. Bristling with suspicion, he moved through the trees to block her path.

Bryce could do human. He wore the mask like a second skin. Shoving his hands in his pockets and pasting on a 'good old boy' innocuous smile, he fell in step beside her. To someone who didn't know any better, he looked like an ordinary guy out on an afternoon hike through the woods. Her eyes rounded with realization. She knew better. She knew exactly what he was. "Hi," he said, in the slow Midwestern nasal drawl common to the locals. "You lost?"

The girl was pretty, with a sweet and innocent face surrounded soft, tawny, blonde curls. But, there was a harness to her beneath all the softness and her pretense of youth. Something about the set of her full lips and the glint of jaded cynicism in her blue eyes that said she'd seen the worst life had to offer. She dressed like a teenager, in pastel hues of pink and sequined glitz on the back pockets of her low riding jeans. Her makeup was smeared and her sweat dampened skin reddened from the heat. The fuzzy pink bear she clung to in her arms completed the look of the vulnerability of a youth she no longer possessed. Bryce gathered, by her appearance, that he wasn't the only one used to wearing masks. He shifted to the left, blocking her path as she tried to walk past him.

Kayla held the bear close to her chest and tried to maneuver around the vampire. She put on a brave front beneath her disguise of vulnerability and youth. Roark taught her well to never show her fear. Fear hurt. Fear got you killed. The vampire countered her every step. No doubt he was picking up the scent of rogues off her clothes and hair. He quickly dropped the guise of humanity masked by his dark, good looks and pale eyes. He knew that she knew what he was and there was no need to pretend otherwise. She pasted a wide innocent smile on her face and batted her lashes at him. "I'm just out taking a walk."