Dawn Forever

Ok, so this was how they were going to play the game. Robbie knew first hand how far self-pity would get you and she did for Janine the same thing John Mark had once done for her. Robbie ripped the covers off the bed and yanked Janine into a sitting position on the edge. "Move it," she ordered, dragging Janine to her feet and herding her into the living room.

There was the faint smell of dried blood mingling with the overwhelming scent of Janine's sadness. Instinctively, her eyes went to the rust-colored drops staining the wooden floor. The drops paradoxically called to her and repulsed her at the same time. What happened here last night? Robbie narrowed her eyes at the litter of used tissues scattered on the floor in front of the couch. Some of them smeared with reddish blood. "Janine, talk to me."

"I don't want to talk. Please, just leave me alone." Janine screeched and twisted away from Robbie to hide her injuries. Tinged with anger and revulsion, Robbie's voice sent a surge of fear for Patrick straight through her. The brothers didn't tolerate violence against humans. And they'd punish him severely if they found out what he'd done to her. She was the one hurt. She was the one whose trust had been violated. And she felt that the choice to punish him or not punish him should be solely up to her. She didn't need the brothers making the decision for her.

"You're injured. I can smell the blood." She had no idea what happened. Or why Janine shrank away from her, retreating to the darkest corner of the living room. Huddling in on herself, crossing her arms over her chest and twisting her hide her neck. "You've got about two seconds to start talking or I'm calling Dane. From the looks of things, I'm calling him anyway."

"No!" Janine hissed. "It doesn't matter anyway. Patrick and I are done. He denounced me. I'm not his donor anymore. He doesn't want me." The mention of him made things so much worse. The pain she'd tried so hard to snuff out flared back to life and she could not hold back her tears.

Robbie fished out her cell phone and hit speed dial. She held the phone to her ear and frowned at the horrified expression in Janine's eyes. Janine must have thought she was calling Dane as she'd threatened to. She wasn't. She was calling Alex. It wouldn't do any good to call Dane. The woman was exhausted and emotionally drained. Dane wouldn't get a thing out of her that she didn't want him to know. Alex might have better luck coaxing the truth out of Janine. Robbie needed reinforcements and Janine needed comfort food, and plenty of it. Once she was sufficiently fed and felt safe enough to talk, they might get to the bottom of this mess.

Robbie snapped the cell phone closed. Alex and Anna were on their way with bags of fries and cheeseburgers from Happy's. She used Janine's vanity as a means to divert the tears. "You need to take a shower and get dressed. Pull yourself together. You've got company coming."

"I don't want company," Janine protested weakly. Drained from her sobs, she was simply too tired to argue with Robbie. Sighing heavily, she dragged her body to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. At least behind the locked door she could fall completely apart with some measure of privacy.

She blew her nose in a big wad of soft toilet paper and dabbed at the fresh tears on her cheeks. She really was a mess. She'd slept in her clothes last night and they were wrinkled and disheveled. The bruises on her upper arms were a mass of dark purple handprints and swollen indurations from Patrick's fingertips. And her neck, the shallow punctures in her skin had started bleeding again at some point while she slept and the wounds were crusted with dried blood, swollen, and bruised with black rings of bruises.

Her injuries were the last straw. Her epiphany and the wake up call she must have needed. She'd been tossing the idea around for months. Pulling it out of her mental filing cabinet and then stuffing it to the back in hopes that she would forget about it. That somehow things would get better. They weren't going to. She had to face that now. Patrick had forced her to see the facts for what they were. And she had only one conclusion. He was right all along. She didn't belong here in his world.

While Janine showered, Robbie picked the place up. Disposing of the soiled tissues, folding the rumpled throw on the couch into a neat square, and opening a window to get some fresh air in the house. She pulled back the drapes and cracked the blinds, filling the gloomy living room with sunlight.

Robbie frowned as the rays reflected off a shiny object on the floor. Walking across the room, she bent to pick it up. The heart shaped ruby pendant dangled from the broken chain suspended in her fingers. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and focused on the closed bathroom door. Things just weren't adding up. Janine was keeping secrets from them. The woman lived for baubles and would never deliberately destroy a piece of jewelry without a damn good reason. Careful not to tangle the chain into a knot, she dropped the pendant into Janine's dresser.

Robbie opened the bedroom windows and changed the sheets. The scent of sex and Patrick was overpowering on the bedding. She didn't know exactly what was going on between the two of them. But, it wasn't good. Janine was her friend. Not a piece of property to be fought over. And that's exactly what Bryce and Patrick were doing. Putting her in the middle of their pissing contest. Dane rarely interfered in the brothers' personal issues. But, in this case, he was going to have to put a stop to it before the two men destroyed Janine. And took themselves and the brotherhood down with them.

Grinding her teeth in outrage at the thought of Janine's predicament, she stripped the bed and gathered up the linens in her arms. Washing the sheets wasn't much. But, at least it was something she could do to help set things right again.

A rush of freezing cold water drove Janine out of the shower. Robbie was doing the laundry, using what remained of the hot water to fill the washer. She toweled off and picked through her damp hair with her fingers. She overheard Robbie filling Alex and Anna in. Their hushed voices filtered through the closed bathroom door. Janine hated being talked about more than anything else in the world. Nothing was more annoying or more degrading than being the subject of gossip. No matter how well-intended.

It was so obvious her most trusted friends in the world felt sorry for her. Well, she could really give them something to talk about and a damned good reason to pity her. She snatched her sleep shorts and matching spaghetti strapped camisole off the hook on the back of the bathroom door and slid them on. Let them look and talk, and talk, and talk. She was tired of trying to hide her bruises. Exhausted by the charade of keeping up appearances. Her stomach churned from the stink of greasy fast food and her nervousness as she put her hand on the bathroom doorknob and stepped out of the shelter of her privacy, fully exposed in the light of day.

Alex gasped as Janine came out of the bathroom. Her best friend looked absolutely horrible. Her mouth pinched into a thin line and her expression haggard from crying. "What the hell?" Alex hissed furiously. Alex crossed the dining room and gently stretched out her hand over the bruises on Janine's upper arm. Her fingers matched the bruises perfectly. The dark purple indentations weren't caused by Janine's clumsiness. They were handprints. Janine flinched back away. Alex cupped Janine's chin and carefully forced her to turn her head. The bruises were bad. But, the sight of the puckered, swollen, twin indentations from a pair of fangs, were sickening. Alex sucked in a breath and uttered a quipped curse of sheer disgust.

Both Patrick and Bryce swore they wouldn't harm Janine. But, the evidence was glaringly obvious that one of the two men had. She just needed to know which one of them to kill. "Who did this to you?"

Startled by how quickly Alex's temper flared to life, Janine took a step back. The last thing she needed was to drag Alex and the whole brotherhood into her shit pile. Dismissively, she waved her hand. "Its nothing. Patrick was just trying to prove a point. The whole thing was a misunderstanding. You know he'd never hurt me on purpose."

"Janine," Alex gritted, angered even more by the nonchalance of her best friend's tone. "These two men are destroying you life."

"You're right," Janine said. "I can't keep living like this." Alex seemed to calm slightly from her admission of the truth. They were best friends and in the years that Janine had known Alex, she'd only kept one secret from her. The secret had almost destroyed their friendship. "I'm leaving, Alex. I need a new start. I'm going back to the city where I belong."

"No! You can't just pack up and leave because things are a little too tough for you right now! You have no idea what's out there."

"Really?" Janine extended her neck and ran her fingers over the wound. "I think I do." She pushed past the dining room only to be halted when Alex darted in front of her to block her path. Pushy damned vampires. Well, not this time, she was done letting people push her around, fanged or not. She was no one's doormat. To the contrary of what her friends thought of her, she knew her mind, what was best for her, and what she wanted out of life. And she was never going to find it here, existing in the painful shadow of her broken relationship with Patrick. "I'm withdrawing from the Sons. Alex, I'm sorry. I just can't do it anymore."

Anna kept quiet, sitting in a chair at the dining room table and watching the scene unfold between the two best friends. She was every bit as furious with Patrick as Alex was. But, hers was the cool voice of reason and logic. Not the tempered fury of a best friend's rage. "Janine, where will you go?"

"I'll ask Candace if I can stay at her place until I can afford an apartment of my own. I can borrow Chris's car while I look for a job. And I've got my first couple of paychecks stashed in the bank. I hate my ex-boss. But, maybe, if I beg and look pathetic enough, which isn't exactly a stretch right now, he'll hire me back. I've been on my own before and I did just fine. I'll be ok. As much as I love all you guys, I just can't stay."

"Please, Janine take some time to think this over," Alex pleaded. Janine was basing her decisions on her broken heart and wounded pride. Alex had no doubt Janine could survive on her own. But, she didn't need to. Bryce patrolled the city. And he couldn't be trusted to keep her safe. He was too involved with her to stay out of the way and let her live her life. She'd be no better off. Unprotected and vulnerable, it wasn't just the rogues Janine would have to worry about. In her current state of mind, she'd be easy prey for any one who wanted to take advantage of her.

"I have. And it's for the best. Being here reminds me too much of Patrick." Janine managed to push past Alex and make her way to the bedroom. "I'd better get dressed. I'd like to leave in the morning and I've got tons to pack before then."

The flat, emotionless, tone of Janine's voice frightened Alex more than the bruises or her tears. She sounded so resigned and defeated. Robbie and Anna said not a word to support or refute Janine's decision. They were her friends, but not to the same degree as she was. Janine had been through so much hurt in loving Patrick. And she saw leaving as her only way out. Alex didn't believe that. From her perspective, Janine was taking permanent steps to resolve a temporary problem. Just as determined to find a way to keep her best friend here as Janine was to leave, Alex turned to Anna and Robbie. "You guys stay here with her. I think its time I had a long talk with Dane."

******

Patrick spent the brightest part of the day sheltering under a low bridge. He was in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by freshly planted fields and fat, lazy, grazing cows. He was restless and eager to put more miles between himself and Janine. But, the brilliance of the sun had driven him to seek cover. Now he was stuck, waiting it out till dusk.

He tried not to think about Janine. Blocking out the searing image of her face, of the hurt and fear he'd seen in her eyes when he'd handled her so roughly. He tried to forget the bruises he'd caused and the resulting tears on her cheeks. It was no use. Their link was still there, like a thin thread binding them together.

He couldn't completely sever the link. He didn't want to. He was so used to having her in his head and he wanted to hold on to it for just a while longer. He'd have to eat. His biology would force him to take the wrist of another. And when he did, Janine would be gone. Replaced by the necessity of his damnable need for human blood.

There were so many things he could have done differently. And now he'd never get the chance. Janine would want to replace him in her head and her heart as quickly as possible. Tonight, there would probably be a beautiful ceremony on the bluffs and she'd get to be the blushing, radiant bride she'd always dreamed of being. Bryce was the better man and the most obvious choice. Love could be learned. And over time, she would learn to love Bryce with the same fervent intensity she used to feel for him.

Patrick had plans to give Janine the space and time she needed to seal her relationship with Bryce. The brothers would come around and accept their marriage. They'd see how right he was once they saw her happy. He had no intentions of going back to the compound anytime soon. He could protect the territory just as effectively from Lucien's run down shack.

Funny, how things came full circle. He'd retreated to the cabin the first time to escape his guilt over taking Nikki's life, and this time, to escape his guilt for destroying Janine's. Maybe, he was better off living on the fringes. Tucked away like some insane relative nobody really wanted to claim. Hopefully, this time, the brothers would get the hint and just leave him to his self-imposed, psychological flagellation. Janine went through hell to get him on his feet again. He'd done absolutely nothing to help her or himself. And this time, there wouldn't be anybody there, anybody brave enough to pull him back from the edge.

Chapter 22

Roark was happy to be home in the familiar surroundings of his city. Nestled in the heart of downtown, towering over the crowds below, it was the only shelter he had left that the Sons could not raze to the ground. Too many witnesses and too much risk to the humans below, the Sons had little choice but to live and let live.

Keene was so close. Roark could practically smell him on the air. He had no chance of convincing the stoic Great Father or his simpering brotherhood into simply handing the man over. He considered, for a brief second, charging in and demanding his second. Starting the war that was inevitably to come. But, he had not survived this long by playing the fool.

Patience had always served him well. And he hadn't lived almost a millennium by being imprudent. Let Keene enjoy his comforts while he could. Eventually, the man would tire of the game and deliver himself into his hands. He would not have to lift a finger to extract his turncoat from the Sons protection. It was just a matter of time. And while he waited, he formulated exactly what he planed to do to his former second once he finally got his hands on him.

Fear was a powerful motivator. Death was the greatest kindness Roark could grant Keene. Unfortunately, he wasn't particularly kind. Keene would suffer a kind of living hell that would make Dante's Inferno seem like a bedtime story for small children. Chained like a mongrel, maimed, tortured, and crazed from starvation, pain, and the relentless agony Roark planned to inflict. The rumors of what he'd done to his former second would serve him well.

It was cruel, even for him, to leave Keene alive as a breathing example of the extent of his mercies. But, he had no choice and no desire to do otherwise. Fear would keep the lesser rogues in check. And the weak far outnumbered the powerful. And were a far greater threat. Amongst the Masters, there was a small measure of honor. But, amongst the masses, there was nothing but death.

******

Keene felt a bit more at home after sponging off the blood and changing into his familiar black fatigues. He wore a black long-sleeved t-shirt to hide his markings. They'd never bothered him before. But, here, they were so out of place. He'd gained some measure of trust from the brothers and even though everyone gave him a wide berth, he was allowed to roam the halls unescorted. For the most part, the brothers more curious than threatened by him. He'd caught several glances and raised brows out of the corner of his eye as the few brave enough to share the wide expanse of the hallway with him passed him by.

The workout and the ass pounding did little to wear down his restlessness. Roark was out there. By now he could not deny his former master's presence so close at hand. He wasn't used to being the one protected. He guarded the lives of others. They did not guard his. Every little unfamiliar sound made him jumpy. Every strange scent had him reaching for the weaponry he no longer possessed. He paced the halls, remaining in a constant state of motion, for the sheer purpose of feeling like he was doing something besides waiting for Roark to come for him.

*****

The Great Father did his best to take his brother's advice and laid low. He kept tabs on the goings on in the subterranean compound beneath his feet. But, for all intents and purposes, and despite how much he wanted to, he did not intervene. He could feel the danger in the air, like the crackling energy of a building storm seconds before the first rumble of thunder.

There was a division amongst the brotherhood, a crack in the veneer of loyalty and service that bound his sons. His immediate instinct was to step in and fix it. Repair the damage before the crack spread and broke the brothers apart. He did not discourage the brothers from taking mates and sharing their lives with a sacred other. In fact, he felt the love of a mate could heal on a man's soul on a spiritual, elemental level. But, that same love could devour and destroy in equal measure.

He stayed single out of purpose to the brotherhood. Women were a dangerous distraction he could not afford. Nothing could be allowed to come between the brotherhood and him. He deeply missed the love of a good woman. Missed taking her body with his and feeling their spirits join as one with the melding of their flesh. He didn't think about it often. The delicate, heady sensation of a woman's touch on his skin, of the intoxicating taste of her desire coating his lips, the lush scent of her heated passion rising to fulfillment as he pumped into her, and the sight of her sleek curves unveiled and open for his view only. If he took the time to consider how long it had been since he'd indulged in such things, he'd likely lose his mind.

His brother didn't seem to mind his self-imposed celibacy. But, then again, the two brothers rarely saw each other these days. His brother was off, as usual, doing his thing. After tracking him through the Nevada desert out of curiosity and turning up nothing, the Great Father was content to leave his brother to his own devices and stay close to his Sons. Perhaps, trekking through the wastelands was simply his brother's way of coping with the endless changes in the world around them.

Humans moved at such a fast pace as if time were a devil on their heels. And for them, it was. They had no choice but to blaze blindly into the countless unknowns of the future. The creativity of the human mind never ceased to amaze him. And the human spirit was strong and brave as ever. Times changed, places and people came and went with dizzying speed. And sometimes the best adaptation, the only option a vampire, with his limited ability to keep up with change, had was to retreat to one of the few quiet places left.