Dawn Forever

Patrick stiffened as he realized what Bryce had that he didn't. What the one thing was he had to offer that Patrick possessed but wasn't free to give. And that thought burned his ass. Bryce wasn't damaged and broken. But, he would be, very much so, by the time Patrick got done with him.

Chapter 2

Patrick stormed through the halls of the compound, seething with rage. He had lots of time to think things through on the walk home and he'd come to one hard conclusion. Janine might not want him. But, he'd be damned if he was simply going to give up and roll out the welcome mat for Bryce to take his place in her heart.

The long corridors were empty. Some of the brothers were still out on the bluffs partying it up in honor of Anna and Toby's wedding. Others were out, making their rounds on patrol. And some...well what did it really matter where they were, as long as they weren't in the way in he finally found Bryce.

Where was the little son of a bitch hiding? He had to be around here somewhere. Patrick felt betrayed by the man he once considered a friend. Out of all the women on the planet why was Bryce going after the only one he cared for? He was going to rearrange the little bastard's face and make it clear, perfectly clear to him that Janine was off limits.

Patrick rounded the corner, stomping through the kitchen and into the adjoining rec room. Stopping short, he stood in the wide entryway and glared menacingly at Bryce. Bryce was tall and lean, pure muscle, broad shoulders and powerful biceps, bigger and heavier than he, but not nearly as experienced in a fight. Patrick was thin and wiry, compact and muscular for his size. Perfectly built for his frame and body type. And had been in more than his fair share of scuffs. Over the years he'd learned how to analyze an opponent for weaknesses and exploit them. He didn't fight dirty. But, he didn't exactly fight fair either.

Bryce met Patrick's narrowed enraged gaze. He knew eventually Patrick would give into his wounded sense of pride. But, he hadn't expected it so soon. Nor, had he anticipated the heat of the animosity rolling off the brother. There was no point in trying to talk to him. The guy was beyond the point of reason, fueled by jealousy and rage. "Keep out of this," he ordered Marcus as he handed over his pool stick and slowly walked around the table.

"Not a problem," Marcus mumbled, taking the cue from Bryce. He didn't need any special abilities to guess what was about to go down between the two men. Bryce came back to the lodge reeking of Janine's scent and Patrick was no fool. This was going to be ugly. Quickly. And since Marcus was already in hock with Dane, he wasn't even about to step in between the brothers. He was not an idiot. And he didn't have a death wish. And in this particular fight he had no idea which side he'd take.

"Why her?" Patrick asked on a roar, clenching and unclenching his fingers into tight fists. "Why'd you do it man? I thought we were friends." His eyes tracked the way Bryce moved around the corner of the table. "We were more than friends. We were brothers!" Adrenaline fueled by his fury lengthened his fangs and coiled his muscles into tight springs. Anger dilated his pupils and narrowed his vision down to a single point. Bryce's seventh right rib, a vampire's most vulnerable point.

Bryce held his hands up in silent surrender. "There's no need for this brother," he said, his voice low and lethal in its black promise. He did not want to fight Patrick. But, he would in self-defense. Patrick was wickedly fast, perhaps, the most dangerous of the brothers due to his speed and agility. He sidestepped around the pool table, never taking his eyes off Patrick. "Just back off. Janine is old enough to make her own decisions."

Bryce eyed the subtleties of Patrick's body language. Patrick was tense, his eyes blazing with rage, his jaw set with anger and hurt, his fists clenched tightly to his sides. He waited for his brother to unleash his rage. Standing in the hurricane's path, Bryce widened his stance planting his feet shoulder width apart and readied himself for the fight. "Janine is a very special girl."

Patrick lifted his head, his nostrils flaring in outrage at the mention of her name coming from Bryce's lips. "Yeah, she is. And you need to keep your hands off her." He caught Janine's scent, radiating off of Bryce. It sickened him to think of his brother, the man he trusted to guard his back, putting his hands all over her.

"I didn't force her to do anything." Bryce felt his anger mounting to critical mass at Patrick's demand. He wanted to feel sorry for Patrick, empathize with his plight. It wasn't easy to be dumped by someone, especially when the feelings went as deeply as Patrick's did. But when Patrick demanded that he stop seeing her, ordering him to keep his hands off of her as if she were a possession. It pissed Bryce off. Janine didn't belong to Patrick and he didn't own her. If she wanted to see him, there wasn't a thing Patrick could do about it. "She likes having me around. She kissed me back and my god, what a kiss it was," he said with a fanged grin, egging Patrick on.

Marcus lowered his eyes and shook his head. At first he hoped that the two men, snorting and circling each other like bulls in a pen, could be reasonable and talk this out like sensible human beings. But, it certainly didn't look like that was going to happen. Bryce was full of piss and vinegar, getting up in Patrick's face, goading the man into throwing the first punch. Driven by his wounded pride, Patrick pushed Bryce with words more effectively than if he'd put a hand on him.

Suddenly, Marcus was taken back to his early days of seedy barroom brawls. He widened his stance, in case the fight got out of hand. The brothers could duke it out for pissing rights. But, he'd be damned if he'd stand there and let them kill one another over her. Janine was his friend. She'd be devastated when news of the fight reached her. And it would. The brothers gossiped worse than a bunch of old ladies in a sewing circle. Guys," he said in a low voice. "Lets not do this."

The two brothers went on snapping and snarling at one another as if they hadn't heard a word he'd said. And maybe, they hadn't. They were so focused on each other. Not much else got through the haze of their combined rage. Not good. Marcus reached out with his mind using the psychic link to call for backup. If these two got going and a fight broke out, there'd be nothing left of the rec room but mortar and splintered wood.

"I'm warning you. Stay away from her. She's mine." Patrick's blood boiled. His anger pushed the limits of his control to the breaking point. He circled Bryce, gauging the right moment to strike. He didn't give a damn about vows at this particular minute. He had taken an oath to guard the life of his brothers with his own. But, none of that mattered now. Not with Janine hanging in the balance.

"Oh really. Have you asked Janine about that? She might have a different opinion. She is a person, a beautiful, amazing woman. You. Don't. Own. Her," Bryce growled. Hoping his brother would see some sense. "She can choose for herself who she wants to see. When she wants to see them. And what she wants to do while in their company," he countered. Walking in slow, measured steps, he poised on the balls on his heels, ready for the punch he knew was coming.

Patrick crouched low, selecting his point for attack. Bryce was left-handed and that made him slightly weaker, more neglectful of his right side. He'd never beat him in a frontal advance. He'd come at him from the right and go straight for the weak spot. "I don't want to hurt you. Just give me your word that you'll keep away from her and we can go back to being brothers. I'll even forgive you for kissing her."

Bryce stifled a laugh at Patrick's magnanimous offer. "Buddy," he hissed. "I've kissed her more than once. And if I'm lucky I'll get the chance to do it again. Maybe next time it'll be more than just kiss." He jutted his jaw out in defiance. At this point he didn't care if Patrick was a brother or not. This was so much more than just a pissing contest between them. It was about protecting Janine. Patrick had no right to force her into anything or to dictate who she could or could not see. "I can make her happy. Can you? She seems pretty miserable right now to me."

Patrick huffed. "She seemed pretty content in my bed not too long ago," he spat.

"That was then and this is now. Your side of the bed wouldn't be cold and empty if you were taking care of business like you should be. Now would it? Maybe I'm just the man to warm it up and take your place."

Patrick's thin thread of control snapped and he unleashed his fury on Bryce, launching his fists and feet at him in attack. "You bastard!" He moved in fast and furiously, pummeling the man he once called brother with steady, hard, well-aimed blows, going directly for the weakest point, and exploiting that vulnerability to his advantage.

Bryce lowered his arm, concentrating on guarding his right rib cage instead of launching countering blows. On the defense, he danced on the balls of his feet, dodging Patrick's well-aimed fists. He really didn't want to hurt the man, in some small way he still considered a brother. But, he wouldn't stand here and let Patrick rip him apart limb from limb either. He spun on his heel, landing a few lucky punches and kicks of his own. The little prick was fast, jumping in delivering blows with lightening speed and powerful moves, and then darting out of the way before a majority of Bryce's punches landed.

Bryce threw out a kick striking Patrick in the midsection and sending him sailing through the empty air to land with a crash into the rough, rustic stone fireplace. A shower of masonry and chunks of rock fell down on Patrick's head. But, it did nothing to stop the man from rebounding onto his feet and driving Bryce into the center of the room.

Marcus crouched on his toes, ready to jump in and break up the fight. But, he didn't know which person to go after first. The brothers were both holding their own very well. He was reluctant to pounce into the melee and end up with the two of them venting all that pent up anger on him.

Dane and John Mark met in the hallway, just out side of the kitchen exchanged a glance, darting into the fray of shouts and heavy oomphs of pain coming from the rec room. Shouts and the sounds of destruction, the clatter of toppled furniture, the shattering of glass lamps, and heavy thud of pulverized stone, and the sharp crack splintering wood, echoed through the kitchen. Dane entered the room first, finding Patrick pinned to the wall, suspended at the end of Bryce's clenched fist by the throat. "What in the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, attempting to break it up before another one of Chris's precious treasures was irreparably damaged.

"Son of a bitch!" John Mark hissed. He jumped in grabbed Bryce around the waist, throwing him off balance and towing him off of Patrick. The violence and fury of the fight indicated only one thing. This was no ordinary fight. And yes, the brothers fought amongst themselves. Came with the territory. But, this fight, and the shambles left in its wake meant something deeper than the usual brawl over egos. There was a woman involved.

Patrick was on Bryce the minute his feet hit the floor. He didn't waste time with recovering from the pain in his partially crushed throat. The little bastard was a better fighter than he thought. And, like so many other lessons in life he'd failed to learn to date, he'd underestimated his enemy and it'd almost got him killed.

Patrick sent out a hard kick, his foot finding its target, straight in Bryce's groin. "That ought to take care of any sex you were planning to have you miserable jackass," he rasped like a two pack a day smoker. Not quite finished and too fast for Dane to stop him. He dove back in, jamming a knee into Bryce's nose as he bent over to clutch his nuts.

Dane landed on Patrick, dropping him to the floor and pinning him beneath his weight. "Stop it! What the hell is going on!" He grabbed Patrick by the shoulders and rammed his head hard against the floor to knock some sense into the man.

Patrick's ears rang and his head spun from the force of Dane's shaking. He was still furious and enraged, huffing and bucking trying to throw off his stoic leader and get his hands on Bryce. He wanted to end this, here and now. Patrick felt Dane grab him by the collar and pull him onto his feet. "This isn't over," he huffed, shooting daggers at Bryce with his eyes. He stumbled to keep on his feet as Dane dragged him through the kitchen and down the long corridor to his office.

John Mark sat on the arm on the couch, waiting for Bryce to pull his nuts out of his throat and do something besides wail piteously in soprano. Patrick was notorious for doing anything it took to win a fight. And that included hitting below the belt. He glanced up, as Marcus did his best to put the tattered remnants of the rec room into some sort of order. "Marcus, why don't you give us a minute alone."

"Gladly," Marcus mumbled, set what was left of Chris's shattered lamp back on the end table, and beat feet out of the rec room. Patrick was one hell of a scrapper, not someone he ever wanted to piss off. And Bryce was a better fighter than even Patrick had anticipated. But, Marcus wasn't about to choose sides between the two men he still considered his brothers. As long as Janine was happy, that was all that mattered. Maybe, if she were smart, she'd give them both the boot. Her life would definitely be less complicated. And Chris wouldn't have to buy new baubles and pretties to replace the ones busted to bits all over the floor.

Sometimes, happiness was what you made it and found in whom you made it with. Marcus left the room, shaking his head in dismay. He sure as hell wouldn't want to be in anybody else's shoes but his own tonight.

John Mark scowled and surveyed the damage to Bryce's nose. "You gonna tell me what happened?" The bleeding had slowed to a trickle and the bones were knitting together. If he didn't do something, the nose was going to heal wrong and end up crooked as hell. "Take a deep breath," John Mark said. "This is going to hurt." Before Bryce had a chance to react, he grabbed Bryce's nose and jerked hard, gritting his teeth when the fragile bones slid back into place with a nauseating crunch.

Bryce let loose a string of curses as John Mark reset his nose. "Damn, that hurt!" He gritted his teeth in pain. The swelling was receding and the bleeding had stopped. He was healing quickly. That was one of the things he liked the most about being a vampire. No matter what the damage, almost anything was survivable and would repair itself.

"Spill it." Dane said, slamming Patrick into a chair and pushing the office door closed with the tip of his boot. He crossed his arms and waited as he leaned on the end of his desk. He couldn't have disobedience or discord amongst his men. These two had to work whatever was going on between them. If they couldn't trust one another, if they couldn't watch each other's backs, he'd have to remove two of his best trackers from service. They were a liability and would end up getting themselves or someone else killed.

"There's nothing to say," Patrick grumbled, massaging his throbbing ribs with his right hand. Most of the damage Bryce had managed to inflict was already healed. He hazarded a glance up at his leader and snapped his eyes to the floor. Pretty rug. The glare in Dane's infuriated brown eyes, not so pretty.

"Bullshit." Dane stood, glaring down at Patrick, trying to intimidate him into talking. "Speak."

"We had a disagreement and it escalated. Bryce doesn't seem to see things quite the same way as I do." Ok, so his explanation was lame. He really didn't want to go into details. Dane had a heaping bucket full of punishment to dump on his head as it was.

"So you tried to convert Bryce into your way of thinking by kick his ass?"

Patrick scowled, still holding his ribs. "He wasn't doing too bad of a job kicking mine."

"I noticed that." Dane scrubbed his hand through his short, spiky, black hair and regarded Patrick with an analytical eye. "Does this little come to Jesus talk the two of you had have anything to do with Janine?"

Patrick groaned and kept his eyes glued to the floor as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Dane knew him too well. "A little," he mumbled and shifted uncomfortably under Dane's heavy stare. At this moment, Dane was probably regretting Lucien's refusal to let him kill him when he had the chance.

"I thought so." Dane thought long and hard about what punishment he should inflict on Patrick and Bryce. He'd have to think about it. Hard. Most of the furniture and all of Chris's knickknacks were damaged beyond repair. And she would not be happy about that. And when she found out the reasons behind this little scuff, she'd be doubly so. When the wife wasn't happy, neither was he. And the punishment would have to fit the crime. "You have no claim to her."

"I know that." Patrick looked up at Dane. They'd been through so much together. Not that it would garner him any slack. "What would you do if it were your woman?"

"Don't confuse the issue. I'd die to keep Chris safe. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to make her happy." Dane relaxed his stare and uncrossed his arms. "I know how difficult this situation is. But, you have to face the facts. Janine left because she was unhappy."

"I didn't realize how miserable she was." Patrick hung his head in shame. Yes he had, but he didn't have a clue of how to fix it at the time. And he sure as hell didn't now.

"You do whatever it is you need to do to move past this. Win her back, if that's what you want. But, ultimately, her life is her own and any choices she makes are hers to make." Dane leaned low on the edge of the desk, staring Patrick down. In full hard ass mode, he warned. "Deal with this before I have to. I don't expect to see you in here again."

"You won't have to." Patrick looked up at Dane. "I made a horrible mistake and I need to make it right. I promise, no more fighting."

John Mark waited for Bryce to regain his composure and his feeling from the waist down. Vampire or not, a blow to the groin had to hurt. "What's the story my man?"

"Nothing. We just had a disagreement." Bryce eased to the edge of the couch and grunted from the pain. His whole body felt as if it had been put through a meat grinder. And his balls were still somewhere north of the equator.

"A disagreement?" Um yeah, like he was an idiot. A disagreement didn't equate to the destruction he saw in front of him. The brothers might have very well killed one another tonight.

"Yeah. Disagreement," Bryce gritted through clenched teeth. "Patrick saw me with Janine and it set him off."

John Mark crossed his arms scowling hard at Bryce. "I imagine it would," he huffed. Did this man have a death wish or something? "You know Janine still loves Patrick. What good can possibly come from pursuing her?"

"I like her and you never know, she might pick me over him."

John Mark raised his eyebrows. Bryce couldn't possibly believe that. "If you two keep acting like a couple of bulls in a pen fighting over a prized cow, she might dump you both."

"Maybe."

"Maybe, you should give up while you're ahead." He leaned close, his eyes dark with warning. "I don't want to break up any more fights."

"You won't." Bryce rested his head in his palms, staring down at the bloodstains on the floor. Most of it was probably his. Fighting with a brother over a woman, he should be ashamed of himself. But, he wasn't. Janine was a breath of fresh air in his ordinarily, dull, stagnant life. And he wasn't about to given in gracefully and cut out of the race. Patrick would have to deal with the competition, and may the best man win.