After Dawn, What Came Next

The scream building in her throat was cut off by the sheer agony of his fangs piercing her skin. There was no greater violation than to drink from another by force. Jack didn’t drink from her out of desperation or hunger. He drank to subdue her and in drinking from her, he was taking her very soul away mouthful by mouthful. Drawing her life force into his body and in effect, raping her spiritually. Her wolf howled an anguished cry of deepest despair in her mind.

“Jackson! You’re going to kill her! Father said there were no more wolves to be had. The brotherhood and her pack are up in arms. We’ll never get our hands on another. Stop! This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! She is your bride, brother.” He grappled with Phoenix, pinning her wriggling body against his chest. Rippling power stung his skin. Her distress over her friend had awakened her wolf. She was going to die if she didn’t control her beast. His brother was going to drain his intended dry. Neither one of them would have their wedding nights. Neither one of them was going to live once their mother found out what they had done to their brides. The wolves were irreplaceable, but if Jackson thought for one second that the two of them were, he was wrong. Their mother could always rob another cradle. “You must calm yourself, my wife.”

Phoenix twisted in Jeff’s arms. She battled with her wolf to remain in control of their shared body. Her wolf took over in times of stress and physical danger and sometimes, there was no stopping it. Jefferson was panting heavily from the scent of spilled blood…wolf blood filling the air. Yet, he made no move to sink his fangs into her or to join his brother in abusing Danni. “I’m not your wife.”

Jefferson exhaled a breath of relief as Jackson withdrew his fangs and collared his wife to be. Danni was pale and wavering in and out of consciousness. Jackson had meant to subdue her and he had. The drugs containing her wolf were still in her system and between them and the blood loss. Danni was limp as a doll in a crumpled heap on the floor. Jefferson went to her, scooping her up in his arms and stretching her out on the bed, glaring at his brother. Surely, Jackson had not forgotten the feel of fangs in his own skin or the agony and pain of your life being sucked out of you drop by drop. Jefferson turned to pin Phoenix in his line of sight. “Not yet, but you will be.”

“Bastards,” Phoenix hissed. She rushed to Danni’s side, checking her pulse with trembling fingertips. The pack had to come. The brothers would not allow this insult to go unpunished. Danni’s breathing had leveled out and her pulse was a nice and steady thump against the pads of Phoenix’s fingers. The two of them would think of something if all else failed. Everyone in this house was going to die and she would spit on their pyres before Danni and she lit them.

“I think we should leave our brides alone to think on this happy occasion yet to unfold, brother,” Jackson said with a bloodstained grin. The power of the little wolf’s blood coursed through his system. No wonder the brotherhood guarded the pack with such devotion. Within the wolf’s veins was the very elixir of life and he had drunk deeply from the wellspring. Soon, he would drink not stop until he had his fill.

The twins removed the dinner trays and closed the door behind them with the sharp snick of a lock turning in place. Phoenix stayed crouched beside the bed blinking back the tears in her eyes. The collars were almost unbearably tight. She could scarcely slide her pinkie finger in the gap between the thick gold and Danni’s skin. The locking mechanism was impossible to disengage. The two of them were trapped as firmly in place as the collars around their necks. She still had the knife tucked away in her skirts. Jeff knew she had it. He had noticed the missing cutlery, but had said nothing or tried to take it away from her. Maybe, the knife was a wedding present of sorts. A sign of trust? An unspoken ok to do what she thought it was necessary to do? She didn’t know. But, she did know that in gifting her the knife he had gifted her something far more precious, the ability to choose.

























Chapter 75

Alexander eased his weary body down onto the old porch swing and watched the sky fade from the golden shimmer of sunset to the purple gray of twilight. Fall was in the air with the crisp coolness of the oncoming winter and the sharp scents of harvest and smoky essence of burning leaves dancing on the breeze. He wore an old plaid barn jacket, faded with time and worn at the seams. How many evenings had he done this very thing? Sat and watched the night as it unfolded around him. He was an old man and the fall of his life had too quickly faded into winter’s icy gusts. Leigh had been taken from him too soon, captured by an unexpected early frost and swept away. Out of all the things they had dreamed of this was the one thing they had looked forward to the most. Not death, death was never pleasant for anyone, but sitting back on their laurels and watching the world spin past them without a worry or a care.

He tightened his stiff, gnarled fingers around the coffee cup clutched in his grasp and inhaled the steam. Tonight memories of the dead danced in his head. His sister, his parents, Lucien, and of course, his beloved Leigh was there center stage. Alexander could almost feel her presence beside him, as if she were sitting in the swing where she always had at this time of the evening. Maybe, tonight the angel of death would place a kiss upon his forehead and it would be over.

An old codger like him couldn’t wish for a better death than to go peacefully in his sleep. Perhaps, it was better than he deserved as far as deaths went and too lofty a goal. He could take the little blue pill Thomas had tucked into his hand for Leigh and beat death to the punch. Take the easy way out and give Alex some peace in knowing that he didn’t suffer. But nah, going down without a fight had never been his way. When death came, he’d be ready though. But, he wasn’t going to give it up until then. He supposed that he didn’t have much longer to wait anyway.

There was still work to be done before he left this earth. Knowing his inherent stubbornness, definitely a Gray family trait, he wouldn’t go until he got it done. Hell, if that were really true though at the speed he moved these days he might live to be as old as Methuselah. He truly didn’t want to live that long.

The roof needed patched. The gutters had come loose in places. Leigh had always wanted a brand spanking new countertop. The fence in the back pasture needed mending in places. And the barn that had stood for generations of Grays was in danger of falling down around him. He was making excuses not to die. Sipping his now cold coffee, he knew the only reason he was living was for Alex.

As a young buck fresh faced and so eager to take on the world, he had visions of filling this old farmhouse till it burst at the seams with kids. God had seen fit to bless Leigh and he with only one. His baby girl Alex, what a handful she had been. Always into everything and so curious about the world, as a little girl she was like a busy bee in a flower garden bouncing from bloom to bloom on a hot summer’s day. One kid had been enough. His little Alex was everything.

Oh, death was going to come whether Alex was ready to let him go or not. She was still so young. She would always be young far beyond the gifts of her vampire youth to him. Even now looking at her as a grown woman with a life of her own. He still saw her as a freckle faced, wide-eyed little girl. What he wouldn’t give to go back to the days where he was strong and his body not bent with age. His hands smooth and capable instead of gnarled and twisted from the passing of time. What he wouldn’t give to have her look at him as he once had been instead of how she looked at him now, with the gleam of regret and sympathy in her eyes.

If only he could fix anything that was wrong in her world as easily as he had when she had been a little girl. It had been so simple then. He’d scoop her up into his lap and hold her until she had cried herself out and then they’d sneak into the kitchen and have a sugar fest. It was amazing how a father’s love and a few cookies snatched from the cookie jar on the counter top could make everything right in a little girl’s world. Those days were gone. Chance had taken his place as her rock and her shelter from the storm. The cookie jar was empty. And there was no way as a father in the twilight of his life he could fix anything anymore.

It wasn’t fair that she should lose him so soon after losing her mother. There wasn’t much he could do about it though. Death was coming for him on swift wings. It sounded insane to say it aloud. No man knew when his number was up, not really. He was an old man and it wasn’t a prophetic guess that soon he was going to die. He was fine with dying. He had lived a good life. Maybe, a crazy life, but a good one and he had not one regret about the course his life had taken. His biggest regret was the people he was going to leave behind. But, it would sure be nice to see his mom and dad and his sister again, and of course, his Leigh, his darling Leigh.

Night had settled in around him. The woods were still and quiet in the hush of darkness. Through the gaps in the living room curtains the pale glow of the lamp cut swaths of light through the darkness. A chill crept up his spine from the cooling air. It was going to be cold tonight. Might even frost before dawn. A harvest moon glowed above, dimming the stars, but he could make out the brightest point of light in the northern sky. He tipped his coffee cup toward the heavens and drank down the last sip in a toast to Leigh.

Alexander stood up from the swing. The old wood groaned and the rusty chains creaked. It might have been his worn joints doing the complaining and not the swing. These days it was hard to tell. He moved through the quiet house toward the kitchen. Even though Leigh wasn’t here to devil him about his poor housekeeping there were still some habits that were ingrained so deeply he didn’t dare try to break them.

He rinsed his mug in the sink and set it in the dish strainer to dry overnight. Every night for the last fifty some odd years his job had been to make sure the coffee was ready to go for the next morning. Tonight, he set the filters and empty carafe aside and climbed into bed.

The sheets were cold and as worn as his body and spirit felt. He turned and kissed his fingertips, placing his kiss on Leigh’s picture as he had every night since she had left him. The picture was an old one. He remembered the day it was taken as if it were yesterday and not almost sixty years ago.

It was summertime and he had been deep in the thralls of first love. They had gone out on a picnic down by the lake. It was so hot that day. The two of them were like ice cream cones melting in the heat of the sun. He suggested they go skinny dipping in the cool water and he had been so surprised when she peeled off that little orange polka dotted sundress and jumped in butt naked, daring him to follow.

That was the day they conceived Alex and their lives truly began. He had snapped the picture of her, sprawled out on the grass in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees wearing nothing but a smile. He was a gentleman and had taken the picture of her from the neck up, of her beautiful, beautiful face. Only the two of them had known she was bare as the day she was born in the snapshot. Conjuring up the taste of sunshine on her lips and the sensation of her mouth on his, Alexander picked up the picture and planted a kiss on the cold unyielding glass. He exhaled, fogging the glass with his breath. “Finally,” he whispered. He set the picture back in its place on the bedside table and clicked off the lamp.

Alexander fluffed the pillow and went to sleep that night with a smile on his face and one crystalline tear tangled in his lashes. He dreamed of the past, as old men are prone to do. In his dreams he was young and strong, and his Leigh his beautiful Leigh was light as air, a glimmering image that he couldn’t quite manage to capture in his grasp.

Alexander didn’t trouble with his sputtering heart or the numbing of his cold limbs. He didn’t worry about the breaths that came, stalled further and further apart, and then didn’t come at all. Leigh, young and beautiful emerged from the woods on the other side of the rocky shore of the Great River with that smile, the smile that had captured his heart so long ago, and opened her arms for him to welcome home at long last.

Alexander cast one last glance over his shoulder at the life he was leaving behind. He didn’t linger in indecision but bolted head first into the current. There was more ahead of him than behind and he was ready, so ready for it. Jack paused and lifted his head from his grazing, whinnied and flicked his ears in welcome. More people emerged from the woods. Some of the faces Alexander recognized and many, many more he didn’t. But, he knew them by their red hair and blue eyes. His family, his people, generation after generation of them, had turned out to welcome him home at long last. He only had eyes for Leigh. After all, he had the whole of eternity to get reacquainted with the family. But her, his arms had been empty for so very, very long and it was time to fill them again.

It was summertime, an endless summer with sunshine and bees buzzing thick in the air. Tears of gratitude and joy fell from his cheeks and dripped into the river as he crossed. Maybe, it wasn’t a river, or water at all, but the tears of elation from the many that had crossed before him.

He stumbled onto the shore all but falling into Leigh’s embrace. Her skin was warm and soft, and the sundress, the orange polka dotted sundress smelled of cotton dried in the sunshine. Her kiss was paradise and her laughter the song of the angels of heaven. Alexander felt the soul deep pull as the last remaining threads of his mortal life tugged at him. He lifted his head from Leigh’s shoulder and stared toward the distant shore. “Alex.”

Leigh’s fingertips on his cheek were light as a feather, guiding his face toward hers and his eyes away from the distant shore. Leigh’s face was lined with concern and her beautiful mouth turned down at the corners in a frown. She knew his pain at leaving the ones he loved behind. She ran her hands through the thick unruly tangle of his red hair. Alexander hadn’t thought about it, but he was a young man again and his Leigh as beautiful as the day he had married her. They were young and whole, no longer confined by the withered bodies that had held them captive. Time had no meaning here in this place of summer. “But Alex,” he protested.

Stubborn as ever was her man. The mortal world was lost to him now. He belonged to the Summer Land of the spirit and there was no going back. “None of us are ever truly gone from those we love. Did you forget me? Did I forget you? Never. Neither will Alex. We will live on through her and the generations that follow, for all time. That is the true gift of heaven, Alexander. We live on and on and on through our children and our children’s children.”

“Who will take care of her now that I’m gone? I’ll never see her again, Leigh. Never.”

Leigh patted Alexander’s cheek and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Yes, you will, Alexander. In time, you will.”

Alexander allowed Leigh to lead him up higher onto the rocky shore. His clothes should be dripping wet from where he had crossed the river, but they were bone dry. Was it possible to feel as many conflicting emotions as he felt at the same time? Sadness and joy, elation and grief, eagerness and regret, loss and gain, and relief bombarded his soul. Leigh was right. He would see Alex again. Though he hoped it wasn’t for a very, very long time from now.

In a place where time was unimportant, whether it was a day or a thousand years before he saw his baby girl again, didn’t matter. People gathered around him, touching his shoulders, running their hands over his hair, patting him on the back, and planting kisses on his cheeks in joyous greeting, but at the center of them all was his Leigh. He didn’t spare a backwards glance as she led him away from the shore. There was her, only her, and she was leading him home to his well-deserved rest, to a place where the sun never sat.

“Dad!” Alex didn’t bother with unlocking the front door but burst into the house like the fires of hell were on her heels. An uneasy feeling had settled over her shoulders with the sinking of the sun and she hadn’t been able to shake the eerie sensation that something bad was about to happen.

She was trying hard not to smother her father with attention. He had always been a man in need of personal space. She respected that about him. The barn had been his place of refuge away from the world for as long as she could remember. The dusty rafters were overflowing with a hodgepodge collection of decaying junk and projects he hadn’t ever gotten around to. Tools rusted on the pegboard walls of his workshop. There were coffee tins, mason jars, and old cans filled with screws, nails, and bolts collected over the decades scattered across the top of his workbench. Chance chastised her for making her nightly rounds. She tried to stay away and visit her father at a more respectable time. But, in the middle of the night was when she worried about him the most, almost as if some thief would sneak in and snatch him away from her if she wasn’t diligent in her watch.

She usually snuck down the halls, careful not to make a sound. Just a quick peek into his bedroom to make sure everything was ok and then she was gone as if she had never been there at all. Her father accused her mother of walking the floors in the night. Alex didn’t bother to contradict him. Better he think her mom was still with them than confess the truth they both knew so painfully well. That she was gone.

Tonight, she didn’t try to be quiet. The house was still and dark and she couldn’t hear the sound that reassured her the most. Her dad snored like a freight train and while his aging heart skipped a beat now and then, it beat loudly as a drum. The silence roared in her ears, drowning out the frantic beating of her heart. With her breath strangling her, she flung open the bedroom door. “God no! Dad!” She darted to his side and shook him, hoping by some miracle he’d open his eyes and glare up at her for disturbing his sleep. He didn’t. He was still and silent as the house around her. He was gone.

Alex pinched his nose closed and blew breath into his lifeless body. She tore back the covers and searched for a pulse. His skin was cool and gray, waxy beneath her fingertips. She clutched her joined hands and pumped up and down on his chest in desperation. She wasn’t going to let him go. She could never let him go. For so long she had put it off. She held the key to life in her veins. She should have forced him to drink. He would have refused, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She should have done it anyway.

Her entire body trembled with the effort of pumping life into his body. It wasn’t working. She was performing CPR on a corpse and praying for some miracle to bring him back. The only miracle she had left was within her and without a second thought she lifted her wrist to her lips.

Chance followed Alex on her nightly rounds. These were dangerous times and with the missing wolves in the city nobody knew what might trickle down to the brotherhood and the nearby pack. He knew better than to believe he could ever convince Alex that her dad didn’t appreciate her nightly intrusions. Alexander teased her that her mother’s ghost walked the house at night, but he knew it was her checking up on him. Even he teased Alex about it himself. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He knew this day would come. He simply hadn’t expected it so soon. Alexander had died in his sleep with a contented smile on his cool lifeless lips.