Dawn's First Light

She hated her disadvantages. She lacked a vampire's sense of smell and couldn't tell what side of the fence he was on. He was lean, with a hard, chiseled, masculine face framed by dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. His contemplative gray eyes studied her as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with her. The vampire didn't bear Roark's mark. But, he could still be one of the master's minions hell bent on dragging her back. She was deep in the Sons' territory and surely, the woods were teeming with brothers. A rogue wouldn't be able to get this far in without them knowing about it. He could be, and most likely was one of the legendary Sons. The only way to know for sure, she'd been told, was by scent. And she wasn't quite sure it mattered. Either way she was in danger.

"Maybe, we could walk together, keep each other company for a while?" He wasn't fooled by her smile or her long lashes. The pinpoint pockmark scars on her neck were all the evidence he needed. She was a snack bar on legs to the rogues. The bastards fed on her and didn't even bother to heal her afterward. They left her to bleed. And it sickened him. The thought rankled every protective instinct inside of him.

Bryce stood, blocking her way with his arms crossed over his chest. Stalling her. Roark was a ruthless killer and Bryce didn't put it past the son of a bitch to use a woman to do his dirty work. That bear clutched in her arms could be loaded with explosives. For all he knew, the girl was completely faithful to Roark and he'd sent her here on a suicide mission in the name of devotion. He returned her smile and extended his hand. "Bryce," he said.

Kayla smiled sweetly and refused to take his hand. She cursed that she didn't have a weapon. She wasn't any match for his speed or strength. But, she could have at least taken a hunk or two out of him before he killed her. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest and moved to block her way. He didn't trust her any further than she trusted him. And didn't that say a lot about the precariousness of her situation. She had dismissed her suspicion that he was one of Roark's men. They wouldn't be standing here talking if he were. The minions didn't waste time on pleasantries with humans. "Kayla," she mumbled.

Bryce caught the scent of his brothers closing in and felt the tingle of their presence on his skin. "Kayla," he repeated, rolling her name over his tongue like a piece of sweet candy, relishing the feel of it on his lips. Soon enough, she'd be the brothers' problem to deal with. He had plenty of his own and didn't need to add one more. All he had to do was make sure she didn't go anywhere until they got here. "Love the bear," he said, eying the pink bundle of fuzz in her arms.

"Thanks," Kayla said, clutching the bear tighter to her chest. Long ago she'd learned to hide her true thoughts behind the façade of a smile. And she positively beamed at Bryce as if he were the greatest thing since peanut butter. She smoothed her cheek across the bear's pink fur and pursed her lips. His eyes followed her tongue as she slicked it over her mouth. Distraction was a handy tool. Something else she'd learned far too early in her short life. "I thought we were going for a walk?" she asked, staring up at him through thickly veiled lashes.

"We should wait," Bryce said. Kayla was good at what she did. Her fluttering lashes, flushed, hot skin, drifting over the bear's pink fur, and the decadent tip of her tongue tracing over her pursed, full lips were enough to have his groin tightening painfully in awareness of her raw sensuality. She tried to use her lush, soft femininity to hide her fear and distract him. But, her body gave her away. Her fear hung in a thick, pungent cloud in the stillness between them. Somewhere deep inside of him, his beast yawned and stretched, as if teased awake by the scent.

"For what?" Kayla asked. She worked her bottom lip with her top teeth in indecision. She scanned the thick underbrush for a means of escape and wondered how far he'd let her get before he snatched her up. Idly, as if she were making a mere observation, she glanced up at the dimming sky. "It's getting dark."

Bryce craned his neck to stare down into her wide, blue eyes. Her pupils were dilated, forming dark chasms. Whether from her fear or the oncoming darkness, he wasn't sure. Perhaps, it was from both. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

Kayla could not stand his gray eyes boring into her. Transfixed by him, she turned her face away. "No. There's nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light. The dark is easier though. Because you don't see it coming for you." She took a few steps back and tightened her grip on her bear. Her fingers were numb and the bear's fur was damp with the sweat from her palms. His head tipped up and his eyes fixed on something behind her. A sudden soft breeze tickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Tilting her chin, she glanced over her shoulder.

Her heart pounded as the men moved closer to form a tight wall of flesh around her. There was no doubt about which team Bryce played for. The brothers were huge and she felt very small in the center of them. Kayla felt the urge to run for her life. And regretted that she hadn't thought of it sooner. Like the minute she'd pulled off the interstate into town. She was in deep shit. And despite her efforts, tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She'd come this close to her freedom. And now, she was going to die. Unable to hide her fear under the guise of femininity and innocence, she came out fighting, hardened and cynical. "All this for one tiny human female?"

"Are you alone?" John Mark stared down at the girl, suppressing the growl rumbling in his chest at the strong, sweet, reeking scent of rogue on her. He moved into the center of the circle formed by his brothers and towered over her. Intimidation wasn't a technique he employed often and didn't necessarily enjoy. But, they didn't have time for niceties. Not when the woods could be crawling with rogues. He should have guessed Roark wouldn't show up in person to demand Keene's release. He'd sent a female...a human. They couldn't kill her by their law. And the Rogue Master knew it. He stepped closer, backing the girl into Bryce so that she stood, sandwiched between the two of them.

"Yes, I'm looking for Keene," she answered in a weak, tremulous voice. Bryce drove her forward into the hulking bulk of the male standing in front of her. The male pushed her backwards, with nothing more than the force of his presence, into Bryce. Kayla stood panting in terror, sandwiched between the two of them. She didn't dare look up into the vampire's eyes. If he were going to kill her, she'd rather not see it coming.

"Who sent you?" the vampire asked. Why didn't he just kill her and get it over with? She leaned heavily against Bryce's chest. His belt buckle dug into the center of her back, biting into her flesh. He was no less intimidating than the hulk towering over her. Either one of them could kill her with a flick of their wrists.

"Nobody," Kayla mumbled. She shrank as small as possible, using her small size to make her appear more vulnerable. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and scanned the brothers circling her. Vampires, well armed, well trained, and lethal surrounded her in a wall of muscle, menace, and black leather. She was trapped. She clutched at the bear desperately, trembling as one of the men, one with short, spiky, hair and a dangerous aura, snatched it out of her hands and tore it open by the seams. "No!" she shouted, twisting in her cage of male bodies to get to the money. Her whole life skittered across the ground in a fall of wadded, green bills.

"It's clean," Dane said, handing the tattered remains of the bear back to the girl. There was no trace of explosives, gunpowder, or scent of steel on the bear. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the money skittering across the ground.

Kayla shrieked as another man, one with chin length dark hair, reached out and ran his hands along her body, patting her down. His eyes were dark and menacing, holding hers as he searched her body for weapons. She shifted, struggling to free herself from the feel of his hands on her skin only to find more heavy hands pinning her helplessly.

"She's unarmed," Will said. Satisfied that the woman had no hidden weapons, he stepped back into the circle.

Kayla wiggled in the tight embrace of Bryce's arms around her waist. She felt helpless and defenseless as he bent his head low to whisper into her ear. His breath skated across her bare neck and chilled her to the very core. "You'd better start talking before the big guy here loses patience." She lifted her face to the hulk of flesh scowling down at her. His long black hair hung over his shoulders. His eyes were dark and cold as twin obsidian stones. And the expression on his face was so hard. As if he could rip her limb from limb and not think twice about it.

"I told you already. I came to see Keene" Kayla relaxed in Bryce's grip. She couldn't free herself. And panic would only waste energy. He easily overpowered her and there was no point in wasting her strength. She'd need it later, if the brothers let her live.

"I know who you are," John Mark said. Leaning forward to curl his upper lip, he exposed his extended fangs in threat. The girl was white as a sheet. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. And she trembled so violently that Bryce had to hold her upright to keep her from collapsing to the ground. "Where is your master? Surely, he didn't let you come all the way here unprotected. Tell us. Where is he?"

"I ran away." Kayla leaned heavily on Bryce, using his strength to keep her upright. She couldn't take much more. She couldn't have lied if she'd wanted to. Her vision swam in and out of focus and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. The feel of Bryce's hands on her made her want to scream in panic. Beg for her life or her death, just so she could be free of his fingers digging into her skin, restraining her.

"You ran away," John Mark repeated in disbelief. "Why?" He waited to hear the reason why this girl, who had seemed so devoted to the Rogue Master just a matter of months ago, would flee from him now.

"I had to warn Keene. Roark is coming for him. He's going to kill him. I had to do something." The words tumbled out of Kayla's mouth in a fall of urgent, breathless sentences. The truth might save her life. Or at least prolong it long enough for her to find out if Keene was alive or dead before she died.

"What will your master do to you for running away?" John Mark asked in a hiss. He wanted the truth out of her and he had it. Satisfied by her answer, he backed off to give the terrified girl some room to breathe. Unfortunately, her presence here created a dozen more problems none of the brothers needed. Roark would never let a human best him. And the tiny female trembling in Bryce's arms had done exactly that.

"You already know! He'll kill me! I'm a dead woman!" Overcome by fear and panic, the world spun and black dots floated in and out of her vision. She welcomed unconsciousness. At least then, she wouldn't know it when they killed her. It wouldn't hurt. She'd just be dead.

Bryce loosened his grip as her tears fell, splashing in fat drops on his arm. He hated to see a woman cry. There was something about their soft tears that wrenched at his heart. Every. Damn. Time. She was brave, risking her life to escape the Rogue Master and warn Keene. Such a tiny thing... and so fierce...still wrapped in his arms, he backed her away from John Mark to ease her distress. But, it was too late for that. Kayla's body fell slack as she fainted overwrought by her fear. Glaring at John Mark he scooped her up into an awkward heap in his arms. "Did you have to scare the shit out of her?"

"I wanted the truth." John Mark refused to apologize for scaring the girl. If they were in danger, he had to know. If there were rogues in his woods, he needed to plan a defense. "Double up patrols and scour every inch of our territory. There may be some of them on her trail." He glanced up at the rusting car sitting in the distance. "And get that piece of shit out of the road," he barked. He stretched his arms out to Bryce, offering to take the girl off his hands. It was his fault that the girl had fainted, and he should bear the burden of her weight. "I'll take her."

"No, that's ok. I've got it," Bryce said, shifting her slight weight in his arms. If she woke up in John Mark's arms, she might have a heart attack or worse, wake up crying again. He looked down at Kayla, marveling at her features. She was so delicate, like a doll. Her life had not been an easy one. Even unconscious, her mouth still held the hard edge of the toll her life had taken on her.

This tiny female was fierce...a fighter. He knew nothing of her, beyond the fact that she deserved so much better than what life had dealt her. Gently, he cradled her head to his chest and carried her through the woods. The spark of protective instinct within him grew to a raging fire. She was in his arms. She was his to guard. Roark would never get his hands on her again. Bryce would die before he allowed the Rogue Master to harm one hair on her head.

Chapter 12

Keene sniffed the air and trapped the scents it contained deep into his lungs out of sheer habit. Protecting the Rogue Master had been a never-ending duty, without a moment's worth of relaxation. And it came as second nature to him as breathing. He chastised himself for doing it. He wasn't a guard any longer. Roark was no longer his problem...well, yeah...he was his problem, but not to protect. The job of keeping the bastard alive was somebody else's problem now. As long as Roark insisted on breathing, he would be Keene's problem in one fashion or another.

He sifted through the scents trapped in his nose and tried to identify each and every one of them. There was the smell of fresh paint, the cloying essence of a woman's floral perfume, and the unmistakable sweet fragrance of bubble gum and youth...a scent as familiar to him as his master's. But, the smell did not belong here. Kayla? Up on his feet and out of the bedroom door, he tracked her scent through the hallways.

She shouldn't be here. He bristled at the thought of what Roark might be up to now. Had the miserable son of a bitch stopped so low as to send a defenseless human female here to lure him out of hiding? Automatically, his right hand reached for the dagger he'd worn strapped to his hip while in the master's service only to fall empty to his side. He was unarmed. The brothers had confiscated his weapons the minute he arrived in their home. While he understood, he wished they'd left him some means to defend himself besides his fists. If Kayla were here, Roark wasn't far behind her. And they were all in danger.

Kayla was vaguely aware of the sensation of movement as strong arms carried her through the halls. Her head spun as her brain registered her surroundings. She wasn't dead. At the realization of it, she didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Memories came flooding back to her and she wiggled desperately in the arms that held her. Where was the bear? Without that bear she had no future. A good portion of his fluffy stuffing and the booty he carried in his belly had been ripped out. But, there might be something left inside of him.

"Shh," Bryce whispered. Carefully tightening his grip, he tried not to drop Kayla on the floor. The woman fought him like a wildcat, scratching at him and bucking in his arms. Good thing he wasn't that easy to damage. And the superficial rake of her nails down his cheek healed instantly. Otherwise, he'd be royally pissed off and would not have had a problem dumping her on her ass. Her eyes held the wild look of a trapped animal. "You're ok. I'm not going to hurt you." He imagined that to her the brothers looked like nothing more than a bunch of muscle bound roughnecks. That was not exactly untrue, but hardly the best way to make a first impression. He opened a door leading to one of the guest quarters and gently deposited her on a bed. "You're safe here. I promise."

Kayla squeezed her eyes closed tightly. She didn't want to open them just yet. She wanted to get lost in the quiet darkness again and just forget. But, her reality came rushing back. She wasn't safe anywhere. Roark and his bunch of goons were after her. She was deep in the heart of enemy territory. And she was completely on her own. She was anything but safe. She heard the gentle clank of dishes being carried on a tray and a light knock on the doorframe.

"Oh good, you're awake," Janine said as she carried a tray loaded with food and drinks into the room. She caught her breath, seeing Bryce standing at the corner of the bed beside the startled woman. His stare fixed on her. A flush burned her cheeks. She hadn't been prepared to bump into him so soon after the wedding. She had assumed he would avoid her for weeks while he recovered. Seeing the pained expression on his face and the glint of accusation in his eyes pierced her through the heart. "Hi Bryce," she said cautiously. "Dane sent me. He thought our guest might do better if she woke up and saw another human instead of... well you know."

Janine was an expert at pretending nothing bothered her. She forced perky, downright disgustingly bubbly, all smiles and jubilance, entering the room on a cloud of nauseating exuberance. These were happy times, at least for her. But, then again, she wasn't the one suffering from a broken heart and wounded pride. She went about her business. Setting the tray Anna had prepared on the nightstand and avoided Bryce's eyes and the hurt, made raw by her presence, she saw within them. "Hi, I'm Janine, resident human and part time fashion consultant," she said, introducing herself to the woman. Poor thing looked like she was going to bolt. And Janine knew exactly how she felt. There was nothing quite like falling headfirst down the rabbit hole.

"Sorry your honeymoon got interrupted," Bryce mumbled. Lifting his face, he met her gaze. She still had the ability to stop his heart with nothing more than a glance from her blue eyes. Eyes he'd once drown in. He ran his eyes down her body. The body another man caressed with his hands. Her blonde curls shimmered like spun gold in the dim lamplight. Janine never went anywhere unless she was expertly groomed. But, in her haste, she'd forgotten to brush out her hair. And it wasn't hard to imagine Patrick's hands buried in the soft, fragrant locks as he pumped into her tight sheath. He gritted his teeth and tore his gaze from her. "I'll keep watch over Kayla. You don't need to stay. Go back to your honeymoon."

"No, I don't mind. We weren't doing anything anyway." Janine grimaced at her choice of words, wincing under Bryce's heavy, pained scowl. She wished there were something she could do to make this easier on him. She didn't regret marrying Patrick. Only that Bryce had gotten hurt in the process. "I'm sorry, Bryce. I truly am." She placed the napkin on the tray and reached out to touch his shoulder.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Bryce gritted coolly. He brushed past Janine and picked up the tray, setting it on the bed next to Kayla. He could not stand the sympathy in Janine's eyes. She'd tried to reach out to him out of pity. He didn't want her to feel sorry for him, pathetic loser that he was. She could take her sympathy and give it to someone who deserved it, because it wasn't him. He unrolled the silverware from the linen napkin and placed them on the tray. The smell of the food was as repulsive to him as Janine's sympathy. He speared a bite of the chicken with the fork and held it out to Kayla. "Try to eat something, please."