Dawn Awakening

. Thrown off by John Mark's sudden shift in topics, the pangs in her stomach rumbled and complained in demanding. "Double fudge sundae?" she asked, holding her breath. She already knew what his answer would be. She wasn't any different from anybody else.

Tenderly, John Mark ran a finger down the bridge of her nose. He understood Robbie's reluctance to take the only thing that would bring her peace. The trick was not to think about it and just do it. After the first few times, it wasn't so bad. "I don't think you'd like it very much. Let's try something a little rarer."

Robbie held fast to John Mark, adjusting to the sudden surge of strength in her limbs. On the outside, her body hadn't changed one bit. But, on the inside, she could feel the power in every muscle fiber, coiling to be released. She was a bit curious about what this new body could do. Once she had her footing and her body had somewhat adjusted to its new power she made a few laps around the grounds. Never straying an inch out of John Mark's or the brother's wary line of sight. Laughing in amazement at her newly found speed and agility, she toppled John Mark flat onto his butt. Giggling when he rose to his feet, scowling at her in embarrassment. This was fun. She was so free and light, weightless and barely tethered to the ground.

The scent of something at the edge of the woods caught her attention. Musky and rich, the smell of it bored into her nostrils. Eagerly, she licked her lips and inched deeper into the thick of the trees with John Mark on her heels. "What is that?"

Smiling sheepishly, still not quite recovered from being dropped on his ass by a vampire less than three hours old, he replied, "Dinner. C'mon its time for your first lesson. Hunting."











Chapter 32

They crouched at the edge of the brook watching as the powerful buck bent to drink. Robbie's sensitive hearing pinpointed the rush of blood as it pulsed through the deer's body. Her new fangs elongated, tingling, ready for action. Alerted by the soft crunch of leaves, the buck lifted his black nose, sniffing the air and twitching its ears. Instinct roared within her like a hungry lion on the prowl. She didn't need John Mark to give her the textbook instructions. The cliff notes version was already in her head.

With a series of leaps and bounds, Robbie dropped the buck, felling him to the ground. Driven by instinct, she drove her fangs deep into the deer's muscular hide, drawing deeply from the tangy flow of blood. The animal flailed and kicked to get free. Sated in her body, but unable to control her beast, she drank and drank until that last terrible, wild, heartbeat whispered to a stop.

The hunter within her was finally still and quiet, satisfied with the death it had caused. Robbie shook in horror at what she'd done. What she'd started and been unable to stop. Dragging the back of a shaky hand across her bloodstained lips, she stared into the deer's glazed, lifeless eyes, unable to stifle the cry rising up in her throat. What had she done? What if it had been a human instead?

John Mark leapt across the stream, joining Robbie beside the buck. Some lessons were best learned through experience rather than words. Just as Lucien had taught him, he'd taught Robbie. How it felt to kill and that she was capable of it, if she let her instincts override her head. He uttered Algonquin words of thanks to the deer for its sacrifice and to the Great Spirit of the Woods for the success of their hunt. Studying Robbie carefully, he led her to the rocky edge of the stream, cupped water in his palms, and gently began washing away the blood on her chin.

Drying her face and dabbing at her tears with the hem of his t-shirt, John Mark offered up a gentle smile. "The first time, I killed the deer too. Almost all of us do, Robbie. It's in our nature, part of what we are. We all call it by different names. Instinct. Demon. Beast. Hunter. Learn to control it or it will control you. You have a choice, Robbie. We all do."

John Mark slid his t-shirt down over his belly. Robbie was shaky and tearful, her eyes shifting between the carcass on the ground and him. Tenderly he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly to him. He didn't have to be so careful with her now. He could touch her without fear of bruising her or breaking a bone by accident. When they finally made love, he could love her fully and openly without holding anything back.

"What if I can't? She had never killed anything in her life. During hunting season, she'd hole up inside her house and bury her nose in a book just so she didn't have to watch the hunters returning from the woods with their catch in tow. In this life a total of less than three hours and she was a murderer. But, the blood, the life rolling down her throat tasted so good. Eased her thirst and brought her a peace she'd only felt on the other side of the grave in the spirit world. The bliss was addictive and so alluring, tantalizing, a trap in which she could easily lose herself in. "I didn't mean to kill it. I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop. What if the next time, it's not a deer? What if I...?"

John Mark pulled Robbie close, wrapping his arms around her and wiping away her tears with the brush of the pads of his fingers across her cheeks. "Shh, I'm not going to let that happen. That deer was a test. A lesson learned. I set you up. I knew you wouldn't be able to stop. But, now you know how it feels to take a life. How it feels to ride a heartbeat down to death. Even if it was only a deer and it was an accident. You lost control. Killing always has a price, Robbie. You won't ever forget that now.

"The hunter is a bitter enemy, a powerful ally, and a hard, heavy burden to bear. But, it can be controlled. This life for all its difficulties is still a life. And a choice is always a choice. You'll make the right ones, Robbie. I know you. You're too good to make the wrong ones." John Mark felt the tension ease out of Robbie's body and her tears dwindle to a stop.

"I'm here for you. Day by day, it becomes more tolerable. But, it's never easy. Even for the oldest amongst us, the fight is still there, beneath the surface. The trick is to remember what it was like to be human and hold on to it with everything you have."

Robbie stood in the shelter of John Mark's embrace. Hiding her face in the firmness of her chest. All around them the world kept spinning in so many chaotic shouts and passionate whispers. Life was everywhere, infused into everything. She'd never realized how connected to it all she was. Every living thing was a part of her, and she, a part of it. Finally, she saw her place with absolute clarity. Her home and where she belonged.

John Mark lifted Robbie's chin, coaxing her face up to the night sky. Gentle beams of moonlight skipped and danced across her cheeks to a rhythm that was older than time itself. "Not everything in this life is a curse. Look... look at the stars... how pretty they are, sparkling above us like diamonds. Smell the air. It has a life all its own. Can you smell it ebbing and flowing, each animal and person, inhaling and exhaling, drawing the same breath? Do you hear them Robbie? The voices of my brothers in your head? Sometimes, I wish I didn't. But, their voices remind me, that no matter how lonely I think I am, I'm never truly alone. Their blood is your blood now. Feel the warmth of my fingers on your skin. I'm more alive than I ever been. You're more alive than you've ever been. This life can be a great gift, if you let it. Learn to embrace it for the gift it is."

Robbie looked around the woods, marveling at the sights and sounds of the night. John Mark was right. She'd never felt so alive. There was so much to see and explore. The deep nooks and crannies in the bark of the trees became a riddle to solve. The babble of the creek over its stony bed lyrics to songs she'd never heard. The old owl soaring through the sky over her head flew for her, because she could not. Everything...the whole world...or at least her little corner of it, was bigger than she'd ever imagined. "I'm not afraid."

John Mark smiled down at Robbie. Finally, she was beginning to see the light. And speaking of light, dawn was fast approaching. "Robbie, I need to get you home."

Robbie stood up on her tiptoes and brushed a chaste kiss to his mouth. "Bossy much?" She snickered to John Mark's snort, and followed behind as he led the way home. Lost as hell, she had no idea how to navigate herself out of the woods. Her new night vision was far from perfect. Tripping over unseen roots and fumbling through the darkness like a city girl. John Mark made it look so easy. Sliding gracefully through the woods, comfortable and at home in the pitch black of night.

Along the way, he offered pearls of wisdom. Yeah, he was bossy, all the time. The authoritarian drone of his voice was starting to annoy the shit out of her. He sounded like a mother hen. All do this and don't do that. How would she ever remember everything he told her? And exactly according to Mother John Mark could she do? By the time her feet struck the main road, just outside of town, she felt like Public Menace Number One.

With a grateful sigh, glad John Mark might actually cut her a break and stop with the crash course in vampirism 101, she stepped onto the porch and fished for her keys. She may have lost her pulse and her taste for hot fudge, but never her keys. "Wait a minute," John Mark said, wrapping his hand around her fist. Gently, he guided her into the warm fold of his arms and turned her away from the door.

The golden light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the clouds in the eastern sky. Robbie stood on her porch shading her eyes from its brilliance, dazzled by its beauty. "Wow," she sighed in awe. There were so many colors, so many hues of blues and pinks, tinges of dark purple and soft gray, mixed together into one harmonious tableau that could only be created by a master's hand. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

John Mark tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her flush against him, resting his head on the gentle curve of her shoulder. "Me either." He wasn't looking at the sunrise or in awe of its beauty. His eyes were fixed on the curve of her lips and the faint glow of sunlight in her crimson hair, setting the strands on fire with its light. "It's a new day, Robbie. A new beginning."

"A new us," Robbie softly added. Not caring who saw, she christened the new dawn and her new life with a kiss.





Chapter 33

Kore stood on a distant ridge and watched the last tendrils of smoke curl in wisps over the tree line. Her brother was dead. His body burned to ashes on the Sons' pyre. She should be sending them a fruit basket or at the very least a thank you card for taking care of that nasty business for her. Instead, she shook with rage. Her hands fisted, polished nails cutting into her palm drawing crescent moons of blood. A crystalline tear, the first one she'd shed in almost a millennium slid down her cheek. The sun broke through the grayness of dawn and on it, she swore her vengeance. Soon...very soon.

*********

Lucien tended the pyre, watching the last of Kiros float away on the dawn. The mood of his warriors was light, almost celebratory. He wished he had their giddy optimism. Instead, his gut clenched with worry. This wasn't over yet. Without her brother, Kore might take her minions and flee. Somehow, he doubted it. Wherever Kiros's soul went to rest, Kore wouldn't give up, until hers were there beside it. And she'd take as many with her as she could.

Alex stood back, watching her man tend to business in his usual commanding way. With her, he was as gentle as a kitten. But, with his warriors he was hard and unyielding as steel. His stance was weary, bone weary and worried. "Come to bed?" she coaxed, sidling up beside him to rest in the crook of his arm.

Lucien forced his body to relax, wrapping an arm around Alex's delicate shoulders, hiding his worry. A few hours of playtime with his wife sounded great. But, no matter what he wanted, duty had to come first. And it was his job to see the task of ushering Kiros to whatever afterlife awaited him to completion. "In a little while. Go on ahead. I'll be there soon."

Women, always in the way, Dane thought, rolling his eyes at his leader. What was it about this tiny scrap of a female that had Lucien wrapped around her little finger? But, then again, redheads, no matter how cute, weren't his type. He preferred brunettes, petite brunettes with big...assets. Good thing too, if Lucien caught any of the brothers so much as glancing in Alex's direction, he'd open up a can of whoop ass the likes of which would make WWF Smack Down look like a game of tiddly-winks.

Lucien was so stressed that his leathers creaked under the strain of the tension rolling off his body. Dane had spent too much time on his reluctance. One day, hopefully never, as Lucien's second, he might have to step up and take the lead. He was happy right where he was. But, then again, destiny more often than not, didn't give a flying fuck about happiness.

Maybe Alex would work her magic on Lucien and put that tight set in his jaw at ease. Hell, one of the biggest, baddest, sons of bitches the Sons had battled to date was roasting like a Thanksgiving Day turkey on the pyre. Sure, it wasn't over. But, sometimes you had to take a victory when you could get it. Breathe while you could. Lucien could use a break. When Lucien was happy, the brothers were happy. And when he wasn't, they ran like hell for the hills. The brothers had spent a little too much time in the hills, lying low, recently. "Go, spend a little time with your wife, Lucien. I've got this," Dane said.

Dane held back his snicker at the heated blush spreading across Alex's cheeks and the way, with a bat of those long lashes, and a flick of her cute, little tail, she had Lucien following after her like a puppy. More like a dog in heat, but whatever, it was all good.

Dane quickly turned his gaze away from Alex's butt when he heard Lucien's warning growl rumble low in his throat. So sue him, he was a guy, and Alex, his type or not, had a nice caboose. And having all these females around, ok, so two females, possibly three, with Robbie, was distracting. Thank God, he wasn't into redheads or petite blondes with horrible fashion sense. Whoever told Janine she should show everything her mama gave her should be shot. In his day...well, never mind...his day was a long time ago and things changed. With a shrug and a not quite apologetic grin aimed at Lucien, he took command, for the time being.

Kiros wasn't exactly going anywhere, except straight to hell where he belonged. Dane just wanted this over with and done. He ordered more wood for the pyre. Maybe, he'd get some time for a little R&R of his own before the next crisis hit. Toby and he had been deep in an Xbox game when Kiros interrupted them, and he was eager to get back to it and show the little techno-geek who was boss.

*******

Janine snuggled down in the covers and closer to the warm body next to her. Waking up with Patrick beside her was nice. She wished she didn't have to be a pint, or two, low to earn this rare privilege. Ignoring her grumbling stomach, she closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep. Not happening. Gingerly, trying not to wake him, she slid from under the covers. Blinking at the eyeful she'd unearthed. Except for a pair of skimpy, very loose sleep shorts, Patrick was naked. Was it her birthday and she'd forgotten? Had Christmas come early this year? Talk about rare privilege, whew! The view was almost as nice as waking up beside him in the first place.

Patrick was wide-awake, pretending to sleep. The sensation of Janine's heated stare had him hard and aching. In desperation, he'd turned to the only person he knew to turn to for help. The Shaman. Doc, who thought of himself as a cross between Sigmund Freud and Dr. House, had suggested that he try to desensitize himself to Janine bit by bit till he overcame his deepest fear. This was the first time he'd ever crawled into bed beside her. But, damn did he want to do more with her between the sheets than just get some zzzzs.

Janine practically giggled with glee like a kid with a shiny new toy at the sight of Patrick's happy trail. The soft, light brown path of hair started just beneath his outie belly button and trailed down to below beneath the waist band of his low riding shorts. And, hmmm, given the looks of things, at least one part of him was very, very, very happy to see her. Her grumbling stomach forgotten, tempted by another need that put food on the proverbial back burner. There was only one nutrient she was sorely lacking at the moment. Vitamin OH, as in OH MY GOD! OH YEAH! OH RIGHT THERE! AND OH THAT FEELS SO GOOD!

Patrick's hand reached out quick as a flash to grab her wrist. Started, Janine squeaked in shock. He was so fast; she hadn't seen him move. Nothing like a little crash course on how different they really were to start off the morning. "Don't," he said in a stern voice. The tone he used when he meant business and was in no mood to be messing around. Embarrassed and shamed, her cheeks heated in blush, she snatched back her hand and dropped it into her lap.

Patrick scooted up onto the pillows and dragged a hand through his disheveled hair. Damn, he hadn't meant to sound so hateful, as if he didn't want her to touch him. He did. He really, really did. He was just so afraid of what would happen if things went too far. Nikki's death was still too new. Gingerly, he reached out and traced the corners of her mouth turned down in a deep frown. "I'm sorry. I... want to. But, I can't, not yet. I'm trying. Believe me, I'm really trying."

Janine scowled at Patrick, tempted to push him away. The hurt in his eyes had her planted on the bed. Blinking back a tear for everything he'd suffered through and for everything she suffered as a consequence. Would he ever move beyond Nikki's death and allow himself to truly live again? Everyone had a private hell. Hers was loving him, wanting more than either one of them knew if he was capable of giving. "Can't you try harder?"

Janine's need for him was painful for her to bear. Day after day, she reached out only to have him reject her again and again. She ached for him. He could feel her yearning in the far corners of his mind. And smell the musk of her desire, like a fragrant, but toxic cloud, hovering around her. She was doing her best to be patient and wait for him. And he was trying his hardest to push past his own terror and move forward.

Patrick gathered her onto his lap, protectively curling his arms around her petite shoulders. She was so fragile, tiny and delicate like a China doll. He was trying to protect her. But, all he was managing to do was cause cracks along the surface. Eventually, she'd break into so many pieces and shatter from the pressure, if he didn't do something to stop it.

"Shhh," he soothed, working her thighs apart with the tips of his fingers to feel their softness graze beneath the tips. She squirmed on his lap in protest, her skin rippling like waves in a pond from the gentle pressure of his touch. "Be still. Let me touch you." Patrick ran his thumbs up the inside of Janine's shorts, feeling her breath still and then release against his neck in a gasp of longing.

Janine wiggled in Patrick's arms. The last thing she wanted was a pity feel up. She wasn't that pathetic. "I can take care of myself," she mumbled as he eased her onto her back and inched her legs apart with his knee. His hands were good, coaxing their way along her thighs to where that dull ache that never stopped had her tied in knots. Her body, the betraying bitch, arched in response to the gentle stroke of his fingers. My god, it the sex industry ever came up with a toy that made her feel this good, she'd never leave her room. Hell, broke or not, she'd buy them by the gross. His lips stole the last bit of her resolve from her mouth.