Dawn Awakening

Robbie reached the end of the block. Freedom. Although she'd walked only a few hundred feet, the heat of the night and the thick humidity in the air pressed in around her and she was covered in a fine sheen of summertime sweat.

She sneezed at the sweet smell of honeysuckle. The stuff grew in wild clumps and tangles all over everything. Delicate, fragrant, white blossoms drooped from the edges of Mr. Brown's privacy fence in a waterfall of summertime glory. Too bad, his fence was at the edge of the property closest to the road. For as long as she could remember, he'd battled the stuff, summer after summer, and lost every year. The bushy green leaves, as beautiful as they were, blocked the view of oncoming traffic at the intersection and in the wintertime, the dry, scraggly, arms of the brush were ugly and depressing.

Robbie didn't see him until it was too late. A man stepped casually from behind a blind of thick, tangle of fragrant honeysuckle vines. Smiling at him, as if she were just out for a stroll, and his presence were no cause for alarm, she turned on her heel and quickened her pace.

Shit! She didn't know who the man was. But, she knew what he was. Vampire. A lush ponytail of wavy red hair, almost the same color as her own, was gathered at the base of his scalp, trailing to end at the middle of his back. Skin, pale as moonlight, shimmered, almost translucent in the dim glow of the streetlights on the corner. His eyes, she shouldn't be able to tell what color they were. But, she knew, somehow she instinctively knew they were green, the exact shade as hers. He wasn't huge, not like John Mark. His build was slight, lithe, and compact. Then again, he didn't need size to be intimidating. Menace and intent practically radiated off of him. Crap! Dressed in black, everything but his pale face blended in with the darkness perfectly.

"Roberta." The sound of her name rolling off his tongue sent chills up her spine. Low and soft, like a whisper, unyielding as a command, his voice reached inside of her head and turned it inside out.

"I've waited a long time to meet you," Kiros said. The girl quivered to the ends of her red curls like a frightened rabbit cornered by a rabid dog. Persistence paid off, just like he knew it would. She was splendid. She reeked of the taint of her warrior guardian. Soon enough, the scent would fade and she'd forget, everything but him. "Don't run. Don't cry out. Please." He kept his voice low and soothing. Made his words sound like a request, although they were a command. Step by step, he drew closer, willing her to stay rooted to the spot. "Let's get to know each other better. I'd like that. Wouldn't you?"

Robbie's head felt like it was full of cotton candy, soft and fuzzy, blurry around the edges. The shop served cotton candy. Cotton candy was good. Sweet. Safe. He just wanted to talk to her. There wasn't anything wrong with that. A little conversation with a stranger, what was the worst that could happen? Everyone was a stranger before you got to know them better. Right? Some strangers even became friends. She weaved on her feet. Something was wrong. Strangers were bad. She should be running. But, her feet didn't want to move. And her eyelids were so heavy. She could curl up in a ball on a bed of cotton candy and take a nap. Naps were good, better than cotton candy, better than strangers at the end of the block, and good as best friends.

The girl's will wilted, like a blossom in the summer's heat, to the power of his suggestion. He hadn't met a human yet that could match him in a battle of wills. Oh well, her humanity was a temporary thing. One he had every intention of correcting as soon as he had her away from this wretched place. Kiros sidled up behind her and dragged his fingers through the tangle of sweat-drenched curls at the nape of her neck. He'd have to bathe her thoroughly before he introduced her to his world forever. She stank, not of summer sweat or humanity, but of the Sons. "Come."

Robbie was walking. Her feet shuffled along the sidewalk, scraping against the roughness of the concrete. Maybe it was the sudden jolt of pain, the stab of a rock in her instep that woke her up. She didn't want to go away from the house. She wanted to go to it. Fast. She didn't want to go anywhere with this man. No...he wasn't a man. He was a vampire and she had to get away. "NO! JOHN MARK!" she shouted, breaking the spell over her mind into a thousand tiny pieces. Ineffectually, Robbie writhed and bucked in the vampire's relentless grip, more than willing to sacrifice a good hunk of her hair in the struggle for her freedom.

"Robbie?" John Mark dropped the cell phone in his hand and bolted from the house. How in the hell had she slipped past him? Damn it! He warned her not to step beyond the wards! Dizzied by the fear emanating from her mind through the link, he rounded the corner and skidded to a stop. "ROBBIE!" His hand automatically reached to the small of his back for the dagger he kept hidden out of sight. His fist closed around the familiar onyx handle. The thing was, he couldn't use it. Not without risking her in the process.

The fucker smiled knowingly at him. John Mark blinked in disbelief. The fucker actually smiled, standing with his hand tightly clutched around Robbie's fragile neck. Maneuvering her in his grip. Using her a shield from John Mark's dagger. Robbie's eyes were round and wide with terror. Tears welled in the corners and spilled down her cheeks. Her tiny fingers scrabbled ineffectually at his wrist. Her heels scraped against the sidewalk as she struggled to maintain her footing.

Kiros chuckled and wrapped his arm around his granddaughter's waist, clutching her tightly against his body. She was such a tiny thing, wriggling in his grip. Obviously, she didn't know this was how the game was played and the scent of her fear excited him all the more. The warrior's hesitancy to unleash his blade was a display of weakness he could not afford. How little it took to bring the mighty warrior to his knees. Just one human girl was all that was necessary to tip the scales in his favor. And to think, Kiros had always considered the Sons to be ruthless killers. This infant was hardly worthy of the blood in his veins.

"Let her go, you know the others will be here any minute." John Mark was under armed, inexperienced, and not nearly strong enough to take the son of a bitch down on his own. The bastard didn't look like much. But, he was old and damn powerful. So powerful John Mark could practically taste it on the air. The only thing he had at his disposal was the punch behind a good old-fashioned threat. His brothers were coming. Nobody missed out on a good fight ever.

"The Sons," Kiros hissed and quickly recovered his composure. "Too bad they had to become involved in this," he paused for a moment to think of the modern term, "domestic dispute." He smiled menacingly at John Mark and brushed a kiss across Robbie's tear-dampened cheek. "This is a family issue. You see; this child in my arms is the last of my mortal line. She belongs to me."

Robbie weakened by the minute. She could not break free from the iron bands holding her hostage. Her mind raced, filled with possible escape plans. If she could just get out of the way for a minute, John Mark could move in and kick his ass.

The vampire wasn't as big by any means, very slightly built, like her. But, he was strong enough to keep her in an inescapable grip. She saw the doubt in John Mark's eyes. His fear for her safety halted any move he might make toward the vampire. John Mark was armed with a wicked looking blade. But, he was too hesitant to use it because of her.

John Mark's heart leapt in his chest. He stood taller with more confidence, flinging back his shoulders with a sudden surge of pride. His warrior brothers had arrived. And it was about damned time too. The biggest badest vampires he had ever had the privilege of meeting fanned out behind him. Guarding his back.

The child's tears dampened the sleeve of Krios's coat. She trembled uncontrollably, like the last leaf on the tree trembled before winter's biting winds swept it away. Through this terrified, quivering waif he could leave a permanent mark on the land, ensuring his legacy lived on and on. He barred his fangs at the warriors and placed them to her neck, dangerously close to her carotid in warning, holding the warriors back with an unspoken threat.

The warriors parted making way as Lucien stepped between them. He held his sword loosely in his hand. Eyes narrowed to slits of menace, he evaluated the situation. He knew this rogue. The bastard would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. The question was; what did he want? "Kiros," he ground out the word like a curse.

Heavily lidded and giving away nothing, his eyes skipped over Robbie, and the pale hand clasped around her throat, as if it didn't matter to him whether she was caught in the crossfire or not. There was no way to deal with the rogue without risking her life. For now, Kiros had the upper hand. At least until Lucien came up with a way to wrench her free from his grip. After that, he had every intention of separating the bastard's head from his neck. Permanently. "Nice of you to stop by."

So, the Son's illustrious leader wanted to play. Good. Kiros did love a good game now and again. "I find the local flavor much to my liking. Must be all the corn these girls consume. Makes them so sweet and tender," he said, running the tip of his tongue over his lips. He smiled innocently as Lucien bristled in response to his comment. "Come now, don't be like that. It was hardly a taste, barely worth mentioning. How is your human pet these days?"

Lucien's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened from the effort of holding back. The bastard knew exactly how to play him. Rubbing the attack on Alex in his face. The son of a bitch had almost killed her that night. "Wife. She's my wife."

"Wife," Kiros said with a chuckle. "That's something I certainly didn't expect. Taking a human wife, risky you know. They're so fragile. Their time on this earth so limited." He ran a finger along Robbie's tearstained cheek and flashed a fang at Lucien. "There's really only one thing to do when one has stolen your heart, isn't there." Tightening his grip around her throat to illicit a frightened scream from the girl for effect, he said, "Isn't she wonderful. My great, great...oh I can't recall exactly how many greats this child makes...surely, since you've chosen one for yourself, understand my deepest desire. I intend to keep her with me. Forever."

Lucien's eyes ran over Robbie and Kiros as the realization finally dawned on him. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Of course, it all made sense now. What drew Kiros so deep into the Sons territory that he'd risk his own neck to get it. Family. It was hard to fathom one so cold, so calculating, and so seemingly heartless as Kiros ever having a family. Somewhere up the street a porch light flipped on and a dog barked breaking the silence. "I suggest we take this somewhere a little more private."

"Of course," Kiros replied. With a grand gesture, he released his hold on Robbie. She bolted straight into the boy warrior's arms. "What about the girl? I certainly don't trust him to guard my most precious of possessions."

"Naturally, she comes along," Lucien acknowledged. If it weren't for that nosy Misses Jones a couple of houses down, he'd kill the son of a bitch where he stood now that Robbie was safely out of the way. "You know we never break our vows. I recommend that she ride to the lodge with our most trusted members, a mortal." He motioned into the dark. An engine roared to life and the squad car rolled up the street to where they stood on the corner, sheltered by the sweet smell of honeysuckle. Mack Brown sat ready behind the wheel.

"I need some insurance that she will not simply vanish. I've waited a very long time for this. She is precious to me," Kiros said to Lucien. Eagerly, he waited for just a small taste of his prize.

Lucien cocked a brow at the arrogant rogue. Kiros knew the Son's law well. Well enough to use it against them. "That's up to Robbie, not me." Turning, he faced Robbie and asked, "Do you understand what it is he is asking for?"

Reluctantly, Robbie nodded her head. This fiend, that claimed to be her ancestor, wanted her blood. She hesitated; the thought of him putting his lips against her skin, touching her with his hands was unbearable. Options ran through her mind. If she refused, it could result in an ugly fight. John Mark or one of the brothers, maybe an innocent bystander, could be killed. Unwilling to see anyone hurt because of her, she conceded. "I don't want his mouth on me." Turning to John Mark, not daring to look up into his eyes for fear she'd lose her courage and back out, she said, "Do it. Cut me with your dagger."

John Mark caught the almost imperceptible nod of Lucien's head out of the corner of his eye. As much as he would give his life to protect her, John Mark had to respect Robbie's wishes. He held the carved onyx hilt in one hand and her delicate wrist in the other. "Damn," he muttered, tightening his grip to steady her trembling fingers. The tip of his blade found its mark, true and sure. He vowed, with the first drop of blood welling from the cut in Robbie's tender skin, Kiros was a dead man.

Robbie sucked in a deep breath at the sting of the blade across her skin. The sight of her blood combined with the throbbing of the wound made her head spin violently. Timidly, she walked toward Kiros, cupping her cut wrist in her fingers to catch each drop that oozed from the wound. "Open your mouth."

Kiros dropped to one knee, opening his mouth wide as Robbie held her wrist above his head, watching the crimson droplets fall in slow motion to his lips with revulsion in her eyes. He sampled the blood, rolling it around on the tip of his tongue, relishing its taste. She was a truly excellent vintage, vibrant and full of life. He fought to control his urges to take her and claim what was his right there and then. A hint of the boy's blood mingled with hers, tainting her blood's sweetness with a bitter tang. "Bastard," he hissed glaring at John Mark, "you've contaminated her."

Lucien quickly stepped between John Mark and Kiros before the two came to blows. "Robbie, did you drink John Mark's blood voluntarily?" Robbie shyly nodded in response, wincing as John Mark lapped at the edges of her wound and cleansed her skin with his tongue. Smiling, Lucien turned to Kiros and shrugged as if the whole thing was something to be expected and dismissed. " Ah, the young. What can you do?"

John Mark pushed Robbie into the back seat of the squad car. "You'll be safe with Mack." He forced a smile and chucked a finger under her chin. "I'll see you there you there." Gently, he pried Robbie's grip free from the sleeve of his shirt and watched the taillights of the cruiser disappear into the distance.

"Gentlemen, shall we?" Lucien motioned to the warriors behind him. The warriors surrounded Kiros and moved out. Racing by so quickly that human eyes couldn't see them. John Mark trailed the group staying as close to Robbie as possible.

Mack adjusted his rear view mirror dividing his attention between it and the road as he spoke. "You've had a really rough summer." It wasn't a question, just a statement

of fact. He felt sorry for the girl. He watched her cradle her wounded wrist, staring blankly out the window into the night.

"Yeah," Robbie whispered. Her mind reeled with all of tonight's possible outcomes. If it hadn't been for John Mark and the others, she'd be dead by now, in her grave alongside her parents, or worse. The vampire was her great, great, great, great, he hadn't specified how many greats grandfather. He'd conquered time itself to find her. Nauseated, confused, and terrified, she curled up in a ball in the backseat of the squad car. Wishing so desperately she could just disappear to someplace safe.











Chapter 29

The group of ushered Kiros deep into the woods. Within minutes they arrived at an outcropping of dilapidated buildings. Or at least, the buildings seemed neglected and long abandoned, if one didn't bother to look past the dense vines and brush hiding the activity inside the walls. The Sons were a creative lot. A human passerby, assuming a human could cut through the wild to travel out, wouldn't suspect a thing "Don't interfere with my rights," Kiros threatened between gritted incisors. After all, he had simply dropped in to pay a visit to his family. Finding both of Robbie's parents deceased simply opened the door.

John Mark growled at Kiros. A killer like him had no rights. As far as he was concerned, the only right Kiros had left was to die by his hand. The bastard could have killed Robbie with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. John Mark tensed his grip on his dagger and burying it deep into the son of a bitch's black heart. Wouldn't kill him. But, damn would it be satisfying to watch him hurt and bleed.

Kiros flashed a brilliantly white, smug smile full of fang at John Mark. Egging the boy on. John Mark bared his fangs, hissing low in threat. Perhaps, once his prize was fully indoctrinated into his world, he'd bring her back here to pay a final visit to the boy. Watching her kill him would be entertaining. Not as fun as killing him personally, which, is what he intended to do if the boy got out of hand.

Lucien stepped between the pair, breaking up the fight before it started. "John

Mark," he snapped, dragging him away from Kiros by the scruff of his neck. He'd invested too much time in John Mark, pounding out any trace of impulsivity with every inane task he could think of, to lose him now. Kiros would kill him before the brothers could stop it.

Lucien had never seen a kid so difficult to train. If John Mark could conquer himself, he'd be a great warrior someday. If not, he'd be scrubbing toilets the brothers had no need for, clearing away brush and trimming hedges with a pair of rusty scissors, and counting pebbles on the lake's shore until he learned to extinguish his temper and think before he acted. And that, Lucien feared, would be a very long time and a whole lot of counting.

John Mark knew better than to fight with Lucien. Over the years, his temper had gotten the better of him more than once and he'd ended up doing something stupid as pay back. Once, after a particularly bad tantrum, his mentor sent him to the bluffs to scrub the rocky sides of the shale outcroppings with his toothbrush. John Mark got it. Lucien was doing his best to groom him. But, like any other unwanted weed, his temper had taken root and kept popping up. What was the use in having this huge, heavy, body full of bruit force if he couldn't use it? Why was he spending all these hours in training if he'd never get the chance to do what he'd trained to do?

"C'mon Luc, let's get this over with. Just let me kill him. I won't make him suffer, too much. I can do it." John Mark glared over his shoulder at the cocky bastard. He could take him. Having his brothers at his back made him rash and bold, and maybe a little stupid. That fucker would have him for breakfast, and Lucien knew it. Lucien knew the arrogant prick was goading him into a fight. And like a good mentor should, Lucien was trying desperately to keep him alive. "There's no way that son of a bitch is related to Robbie."

"I've got Alex checking into it. There's not much prior to 1820 in the archives. So far, she can't support or refute his claim." Lucien conceded that there was a margin for doubt. Robbie and Kiros could be related, somewhere along the line. They shared similar coloring and stature. It was, however remotely, possible. He squeezed John Marks bicep in reassurance. "Robbie has rights too, Kiros will not take her against her will. She will have a choice."