Dawn Awakening

John Mark's blood flowed through Robbie's veins, spreading chilling, frigid agony in its wake. She held fast to his wrist, drinking him in. Her muscles spasmed and her heart pounded against pain unlike anything she'd ever felt before. The cells of his blood raced through her veins consuming her fragile human corpuscles, ripping their way through cellular wall after cellular wall, changing her, freezing her with bitter cold and killing frost.

Robbie saw John Mark's life flash before her eyes, every second relived in vivid detail. She thought she knew him. What he showed to her before was nothing but a shadow of what lie beneath the surface. He felt so much. Lived so richly. And loved, loved her, so very deeply. Knowing that she'd chosen him over death, seeing his life through his eyes second by second, made the pain, the agony surging through her limbs, bearable. His love was worth dying and being reborn. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her lips trembling to form the words so weighty in her mind. "John Mark."

"Shhh, Robbie. I'm here." Gently prying his wrist from her lips, he scooped Robbie's writhing body into his arms to still her flailing limbs. She was so cold, colder than the grave, colder than the hands of death's icy grip. Doubt slammed into him with the force of a locomotive. What if she wasn't turning, but was dying instead? What if her body rejected his gift and all he'd managed to do was prolong her suffering as she transitioned from one world into the next. What if in his intentions to keep her with him, he'd taken her last drop and killed her instead. "Lucien!" he cried out. "Lucien, you have to save her!"

Lucien gave Kiros's dead body one last hard kick in the ribs. After all, he owed the bastard that much. Dragging a hand through his sweat drenched hair, he motioned to his warriors to haul the empty shell that had once been his most bitter adversary away. Jolted by the urgency of John Mark's cry for help he spun and ran to where the warrior huddled on the ground with Robbie in his arms. His boots skidded to a stop. John Mark's eyes showed too much white. His fangs, long and sharp, extended to full length. Every muscle in his body tense, clinging to the girl he loved. "Easy now," Lucien breathed, hazarding the last few steps to his protégé's side.

Wary of John Mark's stance, Lucien spoke in a low, calm voice, moving slowly to the burden in John Mark's arms. There had been enough bloodshed for one day. Hell, enough to last his whole life. John Mark was a vampire unhinged, protectively guarding Robbie's seizing body. Lucien knew the posture well. Had he been any different when he'd held Alex in his arms? Gently, he ran his hands over Robbie's cold, damp skin and lifted her eyelids and peering deep into her wildly darting eyes. The change was different for everyone. John Mark was the last one brought over. He'd lived it, but he'd never seen it. He didn't know how terrifying the change was. How utterly helpless you felt in those fleeting moments between life and death, especially when they happened, to someone you loved.

Lucien withdrew his hand and met John Mark's eyes, nodding his head as he breathed out a sigh of sheer relief. "She's changing."

Robbie's suffering kept her teetering on the brink between consciousness and oblivion. She mouthed words without any voice. Gasping, drawing cold air deep into her lungs she clenched her jaw tight against the terror in her sobs. John Mark's arms were coils of steel wrapping around her body, holding her to his chest. The soft tenor of his voice was a shout. The gently melody he sang throbbed through her bones and quivered in their marrow. She screamed against the agony of the cold spreading through her limbs. "It hurts, oh my god, it hurts!"

John Mark held on to Robbie for dear life. Softly, he whispered words of comfort. Soon it would be over and she'd be through the worst part of it. No, not the worst, that was yet to come. She wasn't ready to be thrust into his world so abruptly. The pain of the change would prove easy compared to the agony of her newborn thirst. Ok, so maybe he didn't remember every second of his change. And that might be a very good thing. But, he remembered opening his eyes in awe of his new sight. And he remembered the thirst, so agonizing, and so much worse than any pain he'd felt before then or after. He drew the ancient symbols of his people on her forehead, and began to chant the traditional Algonquin prayers.

Robbie flailed like a drowning woman in a sea of pain. Each new sensation twisted and wrenched her body in terrifying wave after wave, threatening to pull her under the current of sheer torment. She was dead and this was the hell that Father O'Leary warned her about. This was the pain of her birth and the agony of her death all wrapped up into one torturous bundle.

Robbie covered her ears as each sound drilled its way into her head. Each scent permeated its way through her nostrils and into the center of her brain causing her stomach to heave. The floor beneath her gnawed its way up her spinal cord setting each nerve ending ablaze with blast after blast of agony. Even the darkness was blinding in its brilliance. And her mouth was so dry, her throat burned like a hot poker had been shoved into it. "John Mark, what's happening to me? I don't wanna die. Don't let me die!" she screamed, grappling to find purchase in his arms to anchor her to the earth.

John Mark stoked Robbie's damp hair and cradled her head in his lap. "Shh, I know it hurts. It will be over soon. You're turning Robbie, becoming like me. I'm not letting you go. You're not dying. I won't allow it."

Robbie's body stiffened in his arms as convulsions took over control of her limbs. With silent breaths he prayed to the ancient Grandmother of his people. With one final, fleeting exhale, her body stilled, quiet as the grave and cold as the Grim Reaper's fist from which he'd wrenched her free of. Soon, she'd open her eyes a new creation. One born of pain and blood, made of flesh and bone, one that stayed the same and yet irrevocably changed. She was still his Robbie. Still the woman he loved.

Janine picked her way through the confusion all around her, stubbornly shaking off Patrick's grip. She had a job to do, damn it, and she was going to do it. Perhaps, in this world, this was the one thing she was good at, bleeding for the cause. After all the days of avoiding him, he'd shown up on the doorstep practically throwing her over his shoulder to drag her to the lodge. Who in the hell did he think he was? A caveman? What right did he have to be so damned pushy? He said they were going to talk. Hell. He had yet to say one freaking thing that impressed her. And that's when the fun started. Locking the door firmly behind him. He'd ordered her to stay put. Just this once, she'd listened to him and given the decapitated body stretched out on the ground, she was glad she had.

In the midst of all the chaos and confusion, and the headless body, ick, a baby vampire had been born. And Lucien had come to find her to donate a wrist and probably a good pint or two to feeding the newborn. Janine might have been inclined to turn him down. Newborns had no finesse and were all fang when it came to these kind of things and she was not a chew toy for the undead. But, this was John Mark they were talking about. And the girl, the one staring up at her like she was steak tartar, the love of his life. Yeah, Janine was a sucker for true love.

John Mark looked up at Janine and gave her a furtive, almost apologetic smile. Robbie was awake and struggling in his arms, grappling for the source of what she needed the most. Human blood. Luckily, she had yet to come to her full senses and realize that her human limitations no longer had any hold over her body. It took all of his strength to restrain her and keep her from attacking Janine and sucking her dry like a kid with a juice box.

Patrick loomed behind Janine, scowling down at him with intense threat. Yeah, John Mark got it. But, what choice did he have. Soon Robbie would be mindless thanks to her thirst and seconds counted. He'd find her someone else more suitable after the first feeding was done and she was more of herself again. Janine crouched down on the dirt, carefully keeping her distance while he wrangled Robbie's limbs into submission. John Mark shot Patrick a pleading look. He could not spellbind her and have a hope of containing Robbie at the same time. Patrick could ether suck it up and deal or watch Janine suffer from the pain of Robbie's bite.

Patrick had finally given in to Janine's bratty behavior and gone to the house to fetch her. He had no idea how deeply she'd gotten under his skin. Just a day without talking to her felt like a week. Link several days together and it seemed like a year since he'd last heard her voice. One look at her, hand planted on her cocked hip in defiance and those blue eyes, glittering with amusement and triumph, had him wanting to turn her over his knee and spank her like a child. Had him wanting to take him in his arms and kiss her senseless. And made him wish he hadn't acted like such an idiot with that not so brilliant plan to make him safe enough for them to be together. Was he really that stupid? Apparently so.

Alexander and Leigh had been home when he showed up to talk to Janine. Their relationship was not a spectator sport, so like any other self-respecting male, he'd practically slung her over his shoulder and dragged her to the lodge for a little one on one time. How was he supposed to know that all hell was about to break loose and the fucking rouge would choose that particular time to finally show his disgusting face? Oh well, the son of a bitch was dead now. And would be roasting, like a pig on a spit, on the flames of his funeral pyre as soon as the brothers stacked the wood. Right now Patrick had bigger problems to worry about than a dead rogue master. Primarily, keeping a hungry newborn from sinking her fangs into his girlfriend's throat.

He'd kill John Mark if Robbie harmed one hair on Janine's pretty little head. Monogamy didn't just apply to sexual relationships. Janine was his and he resented having to share her with anybody. Practicality be damned. Patrick had plenty of duct tape and log chain to secure the newborn till someone else got here. And he'd use it too. If Janine hadn't been shooting him daggers to let him know exactly where she stood on the subject. She was so fucking stubborn most of the time. He should let her feel every bit of pain from Robbie's bite. And Robbie, without any skills and so wrought with hunger would make it hurt, a lot. He couldn't do it to her. Knew he'd come completely unglued if Janine felt any pain, no matter if she was being a brat or not. He glared down at John Mark. "Just this once. After this you find her someone else. Got it?"

Pleased by John Mark's nod, he whispered the words that would free Janine from the pain of Robbie's bite. "Sleep for me, sleep." Janine faded like a daylily closing its petals for the night and sank into a soft heap on the ground. He crouched beside Janine's lax form and extended his fangs, nipping a small hole in the tender flesh of her wrist. A newborn would savage her and nobody hurt what was his. Careful of the blood and of Robbie, waling and bucking against John Mark, he extended Janine's wrist closer. The threat of his unspoken words hung between the two males as Robbie, wide eyed and gasping, her new fangs glistening in the moonlight, licked her lips and growled hungrily in her throat.

The scent commanded Robbie's attention. Slightly musky and sweetly pungent, blended perfectly with the warm smell of clean linen hanging on the clothesline to dry in the sun and the coppery, metallic tang of new pennies. Oh!...so good! Repulsed by what threat of humanity still existed in some remote place within her psyche, she clamped her lips closed and forced her head to turn away from the fragrance that had every hair on her head standing on end and her mouth watering with desire.

"No!" Robbie wailed in a different kind of agony at what her body pled with her to do. She was different than the rest. They'd see. She didn't have to have blood to survive. John Mark was weak. All of them were weak, too weak to resist, but not her; she was the one in a million. She just needed time to sort all of this out.

John Mark inched Robbie closer to Janine's wrist. Blood rolled from the wound in a sweet torrent of temptation. Robbie was fighting against its pull. Struggling to turn her head away. John Mark stared at the drops, fascinated by the way the moonlight reflected from them. Damn, was he hungry. The only thing that kept his inner vampire in check was Patrick's warning glare and the promise of pain if he fucked up. "Robbie, drink."

She fought against him with every ounce of strength her preternatural body possessed. Battling something more powerful than his grip, her instincts. He grabbed hold of the hair at the nape of Robbie's neck, fisting it in his fingers. She had a warrior's determination and fight. The thought of his Robbie, his soft, gentle Robbie with a warrior's heart filled him with pride. Forcing a finger between her lips, he forced her jaw wide and her head down to Janine's wrist. "There is no other way. Don't fight it. This is a part of who you are now. Who you were meant to be."

A surge of thick, hot, rich blood rolled onto to the tip of Robbie's tongue. Her mouth was alive with flavor. Bliss infused her entire body with the first swallow and warmed her frozen limbs. Eagerly, she gulped down mouthful after mouthful striving to ease her thirst. Torrents of new sensations crashed through her mind, human thoughts. She sensed no pain from the donor only a sense of fierce pride, and determination. All angst forgotten, the bare bones of what she was doing forgotten, she drank.

Done with the whole thing and convinced that John Mark had let Robbie drink too much, Patrick grumbled his final warning and waited impatiently for John Mark to separate Robbie from Janine's wrist. Irritated and cursing under his breath, Patrick lifted a very dazed, very anemic, and very weak Janine into his arms. That was it. From now on, she wasn't feeding anyone but him.

Only he knew how much she could give and still be healthy. Nobody took as good of care of her as he did. The thought of anyone trying was inconceivable. Careful not to jar her on the uneven ground, he carried her back to the hole in the wall he called his quarters and stretched her out on the bed. He didn't care a flying fuck about hungry newborns or duty. She was the only thing that mattered to him. Without a second thought, he nipped the end of his finger loosing a well of blood at the tip and slid it in between her lips.

Janine was barely aware of Patrick's blood on the tip of her tongue. Her wrist hurt, but the magic was healing her. Good thing too. That newborn, for such a little thing, packed a hell of a bite. She should come with a warning label tattooed on her forehead or something. Janine swallowed down the trickle from the end of Patrick's finger and snuggled deeper into the pillows with a contented sigh. How many times she'd dreamed of being in his bed, sharing it with him. And although she was too weak to do all the things she'd imagined in her head, she was here and he was showing his love the only way he knew how, by taking care of her and protecting her. For the moment, she let him, basking in his tenderness. "I did good."

Patrick crouched on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd her on its narrow surface. Gently, he smoothed back her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. His little golden angel. For the moment, he let go of his fear, he quit trying so damned hard, and he just let things be what they were. "You did great."

"Robbie, are you ok?" John Mark asked. Robbie rested with her head on his shoulder, her body curled into a ball on his lap, quivering with the after effects of her fist feeding. She was through physical effects of the change, new in her body. But, the emotional effects could be devastating. Not everyone was cut out for this life. Far too often, the change was too much for a human's mind to take and an insane vampire was too great a threat to be left alive. He needed to watch her closely and carefully, help her embrace this life and the magic of what she was.

Struggling to sit upright, Robbie looked into John Mark's eyes. If she thought he was amazing before, now he was... she searched for the right word, he was dazzling, simply indescribable. She ran her fingers along the sharp angles of his face, over high cheekbones, broad thick lips, and a wide high forehead, eyes of the richest brown so deep and bottomless she was lost just gazing into them. Pausing, she forced her focus back to the questions in her mind. She could sum up all her questions into one word, "Why?"

John Mark wrapped his arms around Robbie and pulled her back into the shelter of his chest. "I couldn't let you go."

Robbie thought hard, scrabbling with mismatched bits and pieces of memories to put them together into a series of recollections that made sense. "Is Kiros dead?"

"Very."

"I was dead?" Robbie asked.

"No," John Mark answered. "Almost."

"I should be." Robbie wasn't sure if her words were a question or just a statement of fact. John Mark had saved her life. If not for him, Kiros would have killed her and turned her into something else. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the hard ridge of John Mark's collarbone. "The girl...Janine...I could have...I couldn't stop. Is she ok?"

"Yes. She's fine. Patrick's taking care of her. Believe me, it'd take a little more than a hungry newborn vampire to stop the freight train that is Janine from chugging down the tracks at full speed ahead. But," he chuckled, tucking a strand of ruby hair behind her ear, "if I were you...I wouldn't put up too much of a fight when she asks to give you a makeover. And you have some serious sucking up to do to Patrick. "

"I won't." Reaching up she traced the outline of his brows smoothing out the creases of worry that ran between them. "I had no idea how you felt...deep down... all these years, and you've stood by me...seeing myself...through your eyes...you always being my best friend when you wanted so much more. You have it...all of me. John Mark, I love you...I just never realized it until now. "

John Mark rested his cheek against the top of Robbie's head. She smelled different now, but where it counted, she was still her. "I knew you loved me. I just had to wait for your head to catch up with your heart." Gently, with his index finger, he tipped up her chin and lowered a soft kiss to her lips. "From that first moment, I knew I was head over heels in love with you."

Robbie returned John Mark's kiss with heady abandon. Willing for just a minute to forget all this vampire stuff, the newness of her changed life and lose her self in his arms. She was where she belonged. After four years away at college, after losing her parents and existing in the emptiness left behind by their absence, dead and reborn, wrapped in his arms and in his love, she felt at home.

The eyes of the brothers were on them. Piercing through John Mark with their uncanny observant stare. He could stay here on the ground with Robbie all night, just holding and cuddling her in his arms, marveling in how lucky he was, and basking in the warmth of her love. But, the calm within her wouldn't last long. He needed to teach her what it meant to be a vampire. A pair of fangs wouldn't do her much good if she didn't know how to use them. And the hunger knew no master beside its need. Soon it'd be all she could think about and then, if left unchecked, she'd be more dangerous than any rogue. Besides, they had plenty of time for other things later. "C'mon, lets eat."