Dawn Awakening

Robbie snuggled in John Mark's arms, resting her chin on his chest and staring up at the planes of his jaw. The sex was...amazing. And lying here, basking in afterglow, wrapped up in the warmth of his love like a wool blanket on a cold winter's night, was even better. She'd never felt so close to another person in her life. It was almost as if they were two halves of the same being, living and breathing parts of one another. "Will it always be like this between us?" she asked, toying with the ends of hair that spilled over his shoulders.

"I hope not," John Mark answered. He smiled down at Robbie. Her eyes were wide with curiosity at his comment. Sometimes, he could scarcely believe that after so long of wanting and waiting, this was actually happening and it wasn't some crazy dream. He had to touch her to make sure she was actually here, real, in his arms, staring up at him adoringly, her eyes glazed with the filmy haze of post-coital bliss.

Robbie leaned up on her elbows to stare down at John Mark's face. His lips were curved in a cocky, teasing smile. The humor of his wit shone in his brown eyes and crinkled them at the corners. "What do you mean?"

John Mark grinned so widely at Robbie's question, he thought his face would crack. "We're just novices at this. Just imagine when we've had centuries of practice what it'll be like. Babe, we're just getting started and we've got a very long time to get it down pat."

Robbie chuckled and said, "I don't know if I'm up for that."

John Mark brought Robbie's palm low, down over his abdomen to his hardened length. On a sharp inhale, he groaned, "I am."

Robbie stroked the length of John Mark's erection and rubbed the bead of moisture at the tip over the swollen head. Slowly, meaning to turn him into a quivering mess the way he did her, she ran her tongue along the path she'd traced with her fingers. "Practice makes perfect, right?" she asked coyly, her inner sex kitten purring in delight at the buck of his hips and the soft moan from his throat. Sounds and responses she'd created with the mere flick of her tongue.

John Mark swore he saw stars at the sensation of her pink tongue tracing up and down his shaft. The heat of her breath wisped over his sensitive flesh, prickling along the nerve endings of his spine, clear down to his toes. When she lowered her mouth over the head and took him in as far as she could, he groaned in delight. The woman was going to kill him with that wicked mouth of hers. "Babe, you're already there," he ground out as she licked and stroked and suckled him to the point where his erection reached critical mass.

Fumbling clumsily at her hips, John Mark positioned Robbie's body over his and lowered her onto his throbbing erection. Practice was good. Practice was fucking great. He lifted his hips to meet every eager thrust of her core along his length. He wrapped his hands around her waist to still them. Determined not to rush, but so needy to get back to the sweet spot where there was nothing but the two of them and the pleasure they shared, he let her do what she would. Set the pace with the rocking motions of her pelvis grinding up and down his shaft. The woman didn't need any more practice. She was a master at her craft and he, just the instrument she played. Soon, too soon, she had him worked into a frenzy beneath her, panting and sweating, fisting the sheets, and filling her with the heat of his release.

Robbie watched John Mark's face as he found his release and spilled into her. His expression was one of pain. And she knew the feeling. The moment before the "big O" hurt. Pleasure was painful, with every nerve ending screaming out for mercy, every muscle tensed to the point of tearing free from bone, and every inch of skin on fire for more. And it was empowering. To have him totally dependent on her for his pleasure, panting in need for the peace only her body could deliver to his, and to see the moment of most intense pleasure and pain unfold before her very eyes. So heady was the power, the rush of bringing the man she loved to this point, that she was quickly there with him, gasping and clawing, riding him with short bursts and long, hard thrusts of her body onto his erection, so much deeper because of the angle, than he'd ever been before, filling and stretching every part, every fiber of her very being.

Afterwards, locked in each other's arms in a state of lazy, boneless exhaustion, Robbie asked a question that had been burning a hole in the back of her mind since the whole crazy ride that was this new life began. "How long will we, Ah.. Live?"

Ah, the analytical, fact-finding Robbie he knew and loved was back. He wondered how long sex-kitten Robbie would keep her evil twin at bay. There were probably other parts of her psyche he hadn't even met yet. The thought had him cringing in terror. It wasn't like he was playful, boy down the street John Mark all the time either. Far too often, of late, Warrior John Mark had been forced to draw his sword and get down to business.

"I dunno," he answered with a shrug. "Despite what you see in the movies, we are not immortal. If our lives follow their natural course, maybe centuries, maybe a millennia. One of our years may be a decade in human terms, could be longer. No one is really sure. After a while, time kind of looses its meaning and well, we just stop counting the years. Might as well ask the great sequoia how long it will live, or go ask the mountains when their next birthday is."

"Hmm," Robbie mumbled in response. She playfully nipped one of his erect nipples, and ran her hands along his chest, down, down over his stomach, and lower. Gently, stroking him, she worked his length to full hardness. Not an overly difficult task. The man was every bit as insatiable as she. "We've got lots of time for carnal pleasures then."

John Mark shivered at the stroke of her warm fingers up and down his shaft. She didn't even break a sweat before he was whimpering like a pup. Her tongue snaked over the ripe head of his penis. "Oh yeah, no need to rush," he groaned as she took him into her mouth, "take your ....time."





























Chapter 41

After a day of love making, dozing, and repeating the cycle over and over too many wonderful times to count, Robbie awoke with a hunger worse than she'd ever felt in her life. Panicked, she nudged John Mark awake. Humans were everywhere. Their scents like so many chocolate chip cookies, she was shaking with the effort of holding back her instinct to snatch one of her neighbors, like a cookie out of the bag, and gobble it down. "C'mon, we've gotta hunt."

John Mark mumbled something incoherent and wrapped his meaty arm around her waist, dragging her back under the covers, which pissed her off. Angrily, she shook him, hard enough to rattle his fangs out of his skull and cursed as her own fangs popped out from her gums.

"What?" John Mark grumbled sleepily. As a vampire, his body required very little sleep. He slept here and there, primarily out of habit than necessity. These days, he took the opportunity to catch up on a little shuteye whenever he could get it. And he was sleeping, very well till Robbie woke him up, jabbering like a magpie in his face. He sat up in the bed and took one look at her panicked expression and the tips of white fangs peeking out from beneath her upper lip. Hastily pulling on his clothes, he herded her out of the bedroom and into the woods.

The leaves of fall, dry and crumbly like paper, crackled beneath their feet. Robbie veered to the left, her hunter on full alert for a meal. The deer, a small buck with twin velvety points protruding up from its proud head, didn't stand a chance against her. And she was on it. With split second speed, she leapt onto its back. Pinning the struggling animal beneath her, she drove her fangs deep within its flesh. She drank deeply and quickly, drawing out the deer's life in greedy, hungry pulls until the animal drew its last, quivering breath and succumbed to death. Horrified at the husk that was once a living, breathing, creature, she looked away from the evidence of her lack of control. "I didn't mean to kill it," she mumbled, expecting his full retribution at her carelessness.

John Mark faked nonchalance and shrugged as if the deer's death wasn't important. "It happens." He whispered ancient words of thanks to the spirits of the deer and the woods and extended his hand to help Robbie onto her feet. The kill wasn't her fault. It was his. He'd been so wrapped up in her and in the moment that he'd forgotten how new and inexperienced she was to this way of life. He'd been lucky, this time. She'd had the wherewithal to wake him up instead of snatching some random stranger off the sidewalk for dinner. "Lets walk for a while."

They walked through the thick overgrowth of the woods, marveling at the changing colors of fall. Robbie's head was full of questions she had been meaning to ask, but had been unable to find the words. "You have such direction in your life. You seem so certain of everything. How can you be so certain of anything? Don't you ever worry?"

John Mark squeezed Robbie's hand, turning to look at her with mahogany eyes dark as the night surrounding them. "Nah, you worry enough for the both of us," he teased, wondering where this particular conversation was headed. Wasn't she happy with him? His link with her mind told him that she was. But, why this question? What had her so worried?

Robbie closed her eyes restraining a wayward tear. "Look what just happened. What if that was a person instead of a deer? I could smell them outside the window tonight, people. I almost... I was so tempted. How can you be certain that I won't...ever...?"

John Mark drew Robbie into the circle of his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. "I just know you won't. You're not that kind of person. It's not in you. Robbie, rogues have no regard or respect for life. You do. Becoming what we are doesn't have to change who we are on the inside. I love you, all of you. Who you were and who you are on the inside and the outside. You made a mistake with the deer. It's going to happen."

Robbie leaned into John Mark, relishing the feeling of his strength and warmth wrapped her. She was frightened. Frightened of who she was and of what she could become. He had such faith in her. The image of herself she saw in his mind was a scary thing to live up to. "You really believe everything happens for a reason don't you?"

"Sure do. Ka-tet or fate as it's called," John Mark replied.

She rolled her eyes at his simplistic explanation. There had to be more to it, to why things happened the way they did than just fate or destiny. "You have your purpose. What's mine? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with this...life?"

John Mark took Robbie's hand in his and led her deeper into the woods. "C'mon, I have something to show you." The moon was high above the woods, illuminating their path with a wash of slivery light. The landscape became bare and rocky beneath their feet, sloping sharply up.

Robbie's feet slipped in the loose shale as she followed. John Mark patiently pulled her along behind him. After climbing clumsily up a steep bed of rock he led her to a stop and turned her by the shoulders. Nestled down below, in a deep valley, the lights of town twinkled in the darkness like stars in the sky. "I never knew this was here," she said in awe, referring to the high bluffs and the panoramic view down below.

"If you listen, you can hear them. Every life, every thought, every mind." John Mark said, reverently. "This is where we come when we need to be close to Our Grandmother. You can feel her presence here, in every rock, and in every blade of grass. Her voice whispers on the winds and in the leaves of the trees. If, you stop long enough to listen, she'll speak to you. This is a holy place, Robbie. If you ever doubt the gift you've been given, all you have to do is come here and breathe."

Robbie stepped forward with her eyes closed and took in the gentle sounds of the night. Still and barely breathing, the voices of so many whispered to her. The whole of human experience was a living, breathing entity, ebbing and flowing like water or currents of air past her, through her, and around her. "Wow," she whispered in awe, "I can hear them."

"We exist because they do," John Mark said. "Our Grandmother made us to keep them safe. If we killed every time we hunted, soon there wouldn't be a speck of life left in the woods. That is why the rogues have to be stopped. They kill. And they kill humans. We can't let them hunt the people we were created to protect to extinction. What would be left of this place, of our sacred purpose, if we did?"

Robbie recalled her experience with the Grandmother. "She told me I have a

choice. I chose to stay here with you. And now, I have a purpose, although I'm not quite sure how to fulfill it."

John Mark took Robbie's hand and guided her to a flat boulder to sit down beside

him. "This life is your gift Robbie, your choice. What you decide to do with it is up to you. I'm glad you chose to stay here with me."

Robbie sighed, leaning against John Mark's shoulder. Feeling the safety of his arm wrapped around her back. "I'm sorry. So much has happened and I'm afraid that I really don't do well without a plan..."

John Mark cut Robbie off mid sentence. "You bring people joy. You bring me joy. Joy doesn't require a plan. Some of the best things in life are unplanned. Spontaneity, remember?" He hopped up, hoping to get her into a more playful, less introspective mood. She needed to embrace her vampire self and cut her inner vampire some slack. All this stress wasn't good for her. No matter how long or short life was, it was too brief to waste in worry. "Race you to town. Loser does dishes for a week!"

Robbie scrambled to her feet and bolted down the rugged rocky side of the bluffs after him. "Hey! We don't use any dishes!" The trees flew past at breakneck speed as she ran through the night. She had to admit; sometimes not having a plan was fun. John Mark was a bright spot in what might have been an ordinary dull life. Robbie stopped for a second to listen for his footsteps and to catch the trail of his scent on the air. He was miles ahead of her. She let her hunter off the leash and recklessly bounding through a wall of pines, determined to catch up.

Her senses tingled as she drew closer to the scent that from a distance she thought was John Mark. Something was wrong, very wrong. The air didn't smell right. Someone was near, a vampire. No other animal and certainly not a human smelled like that. The sweetness of the air reminded her of scorched sugar, thick and cloying in her nostrils. The scents of the brothers, she knew. This one, she didn't. There were only two kinds of vampires that she knew about, the good guys and the bad guys. And if this scent wasn't from one of the good guys, and it wasn't then it could only mean one thing. She was in deep shit.



























Chapter 42

Judging by the sound of leaves crinkling underfoot, the vampire was closing in on her. Relying on survival instinct, knowing she couldn't win in a fight and if she ran, she was likely to end up lost and in worse shape than her current predicament, Robbie scrambled up a tree. The rough bark bit into her palms and spindly branches scraped her bare arms, drawing a tiny trickle of blood, as she scurried up as high as she dared in the old oak. The drying, brittle, paper thin leaves gave her some cover and maybe, this far up, whoever approached would find her not worth the effort and keep on going. Peering into the darkness, she held her breath and waited.

The vampire was a shadow, moving swift and gracefully, almost like a dark cloud over the ground beneath her. Of course, it was just her luck that when he caught her scent, he stopped at the base of the tree and tilted his head, grinning up at her with a maniacal smile. Robbie clung to the tree, watching him circle the trunk like a shark swam around its prey. This was not good. NOT GOOD.

The vampire was thickly muscled, bulging under the tight stretch of his black t-shirt and dark jeans. He blended in so well with the night, if not for his scent and the rippling sensations of awareness coursing over her skin, she might have walked right past him and never known he was there. A black skullcap stretched tightly over his head. And his skin was pale against the darkness of the night. His fangs protruded from his wide grin and gleamed in the moonlight. Somehow, she instinctively knew he wasn't any older than she. But, if she climbed down, she was going to die. The vampire liked the hunt, relished the kill, and he'd done it before...when he was human.

The rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs, the sound of something being dragged through the woods, struggling, kicking, and cursing, and the heavy grunts of a struggle from behind her drew her attention. Robbie stared down from her perch in the branches and sucked in a breath. She thought John Mark would come to rescue her. But, he had problems of his own. She was going to have to do something to save them both.

Two vampires drug John Mark through the underbrush and plopped him unceremoniously at the vampire's feet. So, not only was the vampire who had her treed a killer, he was the leader. Nice. She had no idea how she was going to get herself out of this, let alone John Mark. Injured and bleeding, with his face resembling something similar to road kill, bound with thick loops of chain, he kicked and cursed, fruitlessly pulling at the heavy links. The two that had overpowered him didn't look a hell of a lot better than he did. At least, he'd given them a run for their money before they kicked his ass. With the vampire's attention now turned to John Mark, she had time to think...of something.

"Warrior," the lead vampire hissed menacingly at John Mark. "Your band recently dispatched a vampire named Kiros into the underworld. My boss wants your blood for that. But, I feel even scum such as yourself has the right to an introduction. My name is DuPage." He bent at the waist and made a wide, mocking, sweeping gesture with his arms. "I would spare your girlfriend. Keep her around for a little entertainment for the boys. But, my employer wants her blood, maybe more than she wants yours. And since I'm in a bit of a rush and time is of the essence. Let's get this party started, shall we?

"I think I'll start with her and then move on to you. Normally I like to devote my full attention to my work. I do hate poor quality and lack of dedication to the job. But, I'll have to make due." With a kick of his massive, heavily booted foot, DuPage splintered the tree that the girl hid in and brought it crashing to the ground.

Robbie landed in a mass of branches and limbs. She struggled to free herself from their spindly grasp. But the combined weight held her firmly pinned in place. With a maniacal chuckle, DuPage grabbed her by the hair and yanked her, like a weightless rag doll, free from the bulk of the tree.

DuPage held the girl fast as she struggled in his iron grasp. He liked it when they fought. The sounds of their labored breathing and cries were music to his ears. Mistress Kore gave him strict instructions. Kill. He was good at that...killing. But, he liked to play with his prey. If he disobeyed, he'd be punished. If he did exactly what she wanted, he'd be rewarded. She promised. Torn, he stared at the wide-eyed, terrified girl in his grip and debated. How could he make it hurt the most? Elicit the loudest screams and still kill her quickly, but not too fast? How much punishment could her vampire body take before it was too much and she died? What to do?