Dawn Reclaimed

Hunter wasn't the only one who wanted this man dead. The Guardians had called dibs on him. After all, this was their territory. And not even Drew's good intentions would save him, if the Guardians found him before the brotherhood did. The death of another, no matter how well it might serve humanity, did not bring about redemption. But, that was something every man had to find out for himself. Keene did not feel vindicated after Roark died. His sins were not washed away. He still carried the weight of them deep inside. He'd killed many times, and the blood staining his hands would always be there. Keene simply nodded, subtly and returned his attention to the map.

"Tonight after all the little humans go to bed. I want to perform a thorough search of this area." Hunter ran a circle with the blunt edge of his fingernail. "The coffee shop. The bus route. The train station. And the murder scenes."

"Grant has been over these areas at least a dozen times." Patrick didn't want to waste time searching places that had already been searched. The killer was out there planning his next move while they were running around in circles.

Hunter lifted his eyes from the map and pinned them on the vampire. "I'm not my brother. Grant is good. But, I'm better."

"Good," Dane said. The tension in the room was thick and bristling with the restless energy of a caged beast. "Ok. John Mark, Patrick, you're out of here. Hopefully, you'll be bringing Anna back with you. Will, Chance, get some rest. At dark, we saddle up." Dane didn't like this wolf. The man was dangerous in the way that men with nothing to lose are. Hunter played for no team, except for his own. And now, with his sights set on a target. He would not stop. He would go through anybody in his way to get to his goal. The brothers were not going to deliver this man to the Great Father in one piece. Pieces, maybe, but whole and alive, his guess was probably not.

Dane was not a betting man. But, if he were, he'd bet on the wolf. He knew how Carter dispensed justice and it was a swift, painless death. The wolf though, the wolf would not be quick about the killing. He'd watched the wolves take down prey and it was a horrific dance of beauty and death. Hunter would take his time, dissecting the killer bite by bite, leaving him alive as he tore him apart piece by piece. And that was a death no matter how depraved the killer was, he didn't deserve. Dane said nothing more. He disappeared into the depths of the apartment. He'd love to call Nash and ask why he'd sent a wolf like Hunter. Send the bastard packing. But, help was help. And if Hunter truly was as good as he claimed he was. The city would be safer for it.

"Fridge is fully stocked and so is the wet bar. Help yourself," John Mark said to Hunter. He was ready to get the hell out of here and away from this wolf before the shit hit the fan. As second it was his job to keep the brothers in line. But, this wolf, there was no reasoning with him. No way to get through the layers of bristling, cold, almost brutal indifference he'd surrounded himself in. Hunter was a man who had already given up. He lived because he was alive, not because he wanted to. And it took someone special, someone better than he to bring a man like that back from the brink. John Mark grabbed up his duffel bag, eager to get home, to his wife Robbie, and back into his woods for a little hunting. He winked at Will. "Good luck, buddy. See you tomorrow."

Hunter didn't bother with the fridge. He went straight to the bar. The vampires had just as good of taste in booze as they did in everything else. Selecting a very fine aged whisky, he poured a shot in a glass. Gauging the depth of the amber colored alcohol, he poured a second shot from the bottle. He skulked through the hallway and into the refuge of his room. Propping his boots up on a very expensive ottoman, he swallowed the whiskey down and waited for night to fall.



Chapter 40

Claire patted her very full belly. "That was absolutely wonderful. I can't believe I ate so much food." She speared the tiny heap of eggs left on her plate and stuffed it into her mouth with a satisfied sigh. Her appetite had come back with a vengeance and she'd definitely eaten enough for two, maybe three. Grant had come back to the room toting a tray overflowing with fresh fruit, toast, omelets stuffed with all sorts of cheeses and goodies, juice, and a steaming mug of herbal tea. And she'd thoroughly enjoyed every last bit of it. "I can't believe you went through all this trouble."

"Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I can't cook." Grant took the tray off Claire's lap and set it on top the dresser. "And it wasn't any trouble. I like watching you eat."

"Obviously." Clare propped her weight up on the pillows and lounged in the bed. Sipping her tea, she snuck a glimpse, while Grant wasn't looking, to check him out. He wore his jeans low on his narrow hips. A soft mocha tan chambray button down shirt was neatly tucked in at the waist. She'd never noticed him wearing a belt before. But, maybe he had. After all the whole package of him was so overwhelming it'd be easy to miss the small details. She liked the slightly longer hairstyle on him. Casual, tousled, his dark hair curling at the ends, so soft and begging to be stroked. Grant didn't dress to augment his narrow waist, long legs, and broad shoulders. He didn't need to. He looked, simply edible.

Grant grinned. Pretending not to notice that Claire was checking him out. Dutifully, he stacked the dishes and balanced the tray. "I'm running these downstairs. Don't you go anywhere."

Claire shook her head. Nope. She wasn't going anywhere. The view was just fine where she was. The jeans were snug, molding to his butt and thighs. The soft, faded denim clung to him in all the right places. And had her blushing as she noticed that she noticed. She wanted to swoon and fan her face as he shot her a knowing grin and took off for the stairs with the tray in his hand. What in the hell was she going to do with him?

Marianne stuck her head into Grant's room. The two of them had been holed up in there for hours. She'd been hanging out all morning, as much as she could between homework and chores, waiting for the door to finally open. Her teachers, her aunts rarely monitored what she studied. And she'd spent most of the day scanning through websites and online medical journals to learn as much as she could about human pregnancy and reproduction. At this point, she knew about the birds and the bees. And one day, she'd probably want to become a mom and a wife. But, not anytime soon, not with her brothers and the males of the Pack as the only examples of manhood she had to gauge men by. She carefully climbed on the bed. "Did you get my note?"

"I did," Claire answered. She reached up to tug playfully on Mouse's braid. The kid had beautiful hair. Jet black, so black the highlights were almost blue in the sunlight, long and sleek, like silk between Claire's fingers. Mouse was going to grow up to break a lot of hearts when she came into her own. Even now, Claire could see it beneath the surface. "That was very nice."

"Did it make you feel better?"

Claire smiled and nodded. Mouse was so eager to please. Timid in the way little girls on the verge of growing up often were. As if she weren't quite sure if she still wanted to be a little girl or step up into the role of a teenager. "It sure did."

"Are you spending the night?" Marianne cocked her head curiously to the side. Excited about the possibility of yet another slumber party with Claire. She had their itinerary for the day already planned. Of course, she'd have to finish her studies and chores for the day, beforehand. But, afterwards, she was all Claire's.

"I think so."

"Fantastic!" Marianne beamed. "Can I sleep with you again tonight?"

"I don't think your Uncle Grant would like sharing his bed with the two of us. I have to get plenty of sleep tonight. I have to work in the morning. And you, my dear Miss Marianne, hog the covers."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a nurse."

Marianne frowned and nodded. What little she knew of nurses came from TV shows. She'd never been to the doctor or the hospital. Whenever someone in the Pack got sick, which was rare, Nana took care of them. "You give people shots."

"Yes, I give people shots. But, I do lots of other things too. I make them feel better."

"Like I did you."

"Exactly. You'd make a very good nurse, Mouse."

Marianne wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I could handle someone puking, especially if they did it on me."

Claire chuckled, "Well, that does happen sometimes."

"I've got to get back to studying before Grandpa notices I'm missing. He's pretty strict about education. Says it's the key to the future or something like that. Although I'm not so sure what Algebra has to do with anything. " Marianne hopped off the bed and draped the end of her braid over her bottom lip to form a mustache.. "See ya later alligator."

"Bye," Claire called after Mouse. Grant reappeared in the door just as Mouse bounded down the hallway. "Hi, you."

Grant closed the door behind him and clicked the lock into place. Privacy was at a premium in the house. The rule was to knock before entering. But, he had a feeling that Mouse wouldn't wait for an answer before barging in. He wanted Claire all to himself, without interruptions, for a few hours. He scooted her over and stretched out next to her on the bed. Settling against the pillows, he guided her head to his chest. He smiled as she sighed and snuggled in against him. Her body draped over his. Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. He wrapped a leg in between hers so that their feet tangled together.

"Grant, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm." The press of her body against his had him beyond the point of distraction. One of his hands cupped the back of her head as his fingers toyed with the ends of her hair. His other hand rested on her waist, his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking the silkiness of the tiny bit of bare skin showing beneath the gap. "Anything."

Claire closed her eyes and knew she'd kick herself for asking. She hated to spoil the moment of intimacy forming between them. But, she had to know. There were too many unanswered questions rolling through her mind about Grant. And left to form her own conclusions her head could come up with all kinds of crazy scenarios. "What were you doing in the city?"

"Missing you every second of every day." Grant inched the hem of Claire's shirt up and trailed his fingers down the small of her back. Distraction was good. Distraction would keep her from asking questions he couldn't answer. He smiled as she arched into him and the delicate motion of his fingertips dragged a contented sigh from her lips. Grant knew he was running out of time to tell her the truth. He couldn't hide what he was, what his family were, from her forever. But, he needed this, just a few hours away from his wolf, the world, and everyone in it. Locked behind the closed door where there was nobody but the two of them.

Claire arched her back into Grant's body as he continued to trace small circles along her spine with his fingertips. His hands felt so good against her skin. She was tempted to forgo any further questioning and simply revel in the overwhelming sensation of everything that was him. But, her head wouldn't be quiet or her mind content with his non-answer. "No, really what were you doing?"

Grant groaned. Claire obviously had more self-control than he did. Just touching her made him feel like he was going to explode. He would not lie to Claire. Their relationship had enough half-truths as it was. But, he didn't plan to tell her everything yet. He wanted her desperately and inextricably in love with him before all of the truth came out. "I was helping some friends with a project."

"You mean like moving furniture or painting a house?" Claire shivered from the warmth of his fingertips. Her toes curled in her socks as his free hand slid from her hair and wrapped around her fingers. Giving her a wolfish grin, a grin that left her breathless and dizzy. He lifted her knuckles to his lips and planted soft kisses on her fingertips.

"Not exactly." He breathed against her fingers. "I was helping them...look for someone." There surely wasn't any harm in telling her just a little bit of the truth. Claire's eyes sparkled with desire. Her breath catching in her throat as he dragged her fingertips down his jaw. He planted them on his chest, stroking her inner wrist with his thumb. Scooting lower in the bed so that more of her weight was settled on him. He let her decide where this would go next.

"Did you find who you were looking for?" Claire asked. Grant was good at seduction without being overt in the attempt. He stretched out on the bed. Her right leg still trapped in the tangle of his long limbs. Dragging her down so that their hips pressed together. She could tell he was interested in more than just talking and evading a few pointed questions. Beneath her thigh, the hard ridge of his erection began to grow decidedly larger. He lay on his back. His fingers doing crazy things to her as they stroked every bare inch of skin they could reach. His eyes were smoldering with desire. Locked on hers with an intensity that made it perfectly clear where his line of thought was headed. Deftly, she slid the top button of his shirt free to trace the outline of his collarbones with a fingertip.

"Not yet," Grant answered. His skin prickled beneath the heat of her fingertips. He liked where her hands were going as they unfastened the next button and then the next, baring his chest to explore it with her hands. He thought he could withstand any kind of torture. But, he was wrong. Claire could milk information out of him with nothing more than a touch of her hand and the warmth of her breath on his skin.

"So," Claire shifted up on an elbow and pressed her lips to his collarbone. "Was it a relative? A friend? Are you in the mafia? Drug dealer? Secret service? Real double-o-seven kind of stuff?" She teased. Grant's skin was warm and salty against the tip of her tongue. Was she seducing him for information or just for the sake of seducing him? And did his answer really matter at this particular moment?

Her breath was hot on his neck. Her tongue snaked a trail across his skin. Tasted him. Tortured him in the most pleasurable of ways. "Nothing of the kind. You've heard about the murders in the city. The story has been all over the news. My friends devised a kind of a..." One more button popped open. She'd unbuttoned his shirt to the navel. And his body, was about to become all the way undone. He cleared his throat and finished his sentence before he forgot the carefully constructed web of almost truths he so creatively wove. "Neighborhood watch program and I was helping them out with patrols. I didn't want you to worry about me so I didn't tell you about it."

"So you're a good guy." Claire relaxed a little. He was simply a concerned citizen out protecting the streets. Neighborhood watches were everywhere. No big deal. Ok, so she was pushing the envelope and rationalizing, a bit. What Grant and his friends were doing was dangerous. "You're not chasing the killer right? Just keeping the hood safe?" She frowned at his silence. His lack of an answer was her answer. Exactly who did he and his 'friends' think they were? Superheroes? "Grant what you're doing is insane. You know that, don't you? You can't possibly be thinking of going back?"

"I don't know." He winced at the expression of disappointment and worry clouding Claire's features. Of course, she was thinking only of him. The Grant she knew as a human. She had no understanding of the things his wolf could do. That wasn't Claire's fault. It was his. And it wasn't that he didn't trust her to keep his secret. It was that she wouldn't understand. His fear was tearing them apart. Each sentence from her mouth, and each day that passed, it became harder and harder to hide his truth from her. He was taking Claire's choices away by hiding what he was from her. And even now, with her surrounded by Pack and their magic, with her in his bed held in his arms, he still couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Claire, what if one of those women had been you? Would you expect me to sit here and do nothing then? Claire, they had families, people who loved them, and those people who will never see them again."

"If I'd been one of those women, I'd expect you to keep your stupid ass at home and let the police do their job. What you are doing is dangerous, Grant. Insane. Just exactly what do you and your friends plan to do with the killer, if you catch him? Dump him off on the police chief's doorstep? Play judge and jury and execute him yourselves?" Claire wrestled out of Grant's hold and scooted to the edge of the bed. "This is crazy."

She knew there was something strange going on with Grant, with his whole damn family. But, she'd chosen to ignore her gut instincts and play along. This whole set up, the extended family living under one roof, the home schooling, and the way everyone had just taken her in, it reeked of something...off. Maybe, Grant's family really was mafia or something like that. Normal people did not traipse around the city, playing vigilante. Normal people did not live in packs like these people did. Grant's family was like a cult. And she'd almost let them suck her in. She needed to get out while she still could. Before she drank the Koolaid. "I've got to go."

"Claire, please be reasonable." Claire was bristling with outrage and he was helpless against it. He sat on the edge of the bed, helplessly watching her gather up her things. He had no idea she'd be so pissed at him for doing something so honorable. He was putting his life on the line to keep people safe. She treated him like he was the one in the wrong. This was just one example of how different their worlds were. To the Pack, he was a hero. To her, he was an idiot. Maybe, it was best just to let her go. Watch his son or daughter grow up from a distance and not get involved in her life any further than he already was. Leave her in her in the world she understood. Looking at the rage in her eyes, he had his doubts she'd ever understand his.

Claire spun on her heel. "I am being reasonable, Grant. I'm not the one running around the city wasting my time trying to catch a killer." She grabbed her purse and shoved her feet in her Keds. "Call me when you decide to get a life, a real one!" She was so enraged that she was shaking and on the verge of tears. She marched out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her as hard as she could. The sound echoed down the hallway with a resounding boom.

"Damn it." Grant leapt off the bed after Claire. He had to explain things to her. He couldn't expect Claire to understand. Even if he did come clean and tell her everything, she wouldn't listen to him now. She was too furious to reason with. Her anger was born out of fear for him. There was only one way to make her understand. Words wouldn't accurately tell the truth. He had to show her. "Claire! Wait!"

Nash heard the commotion going on upstairs and came out of his study to investigate. He emerged from the hallway in time to see Claire bolt down the stairs into the living room. The laces of her tennis shoes flapped against the hardwood floors in time with her frantic footsteps. She had her purse draped over her arm and her keys clutched in her fist. Her cheeks were flushed red with anger. Her mouth was set in a firm line of determination. Tears of frustration glittered in her thick lashes. Her scent was tinged with the acrid, almost stinging aroma of rage. "Claire, Is there a problem?"

The rubber souls of her Keds squealed in protest against the floor as Claire abruptly stopped mid-stride. She glared at Nash. He stood calmly with his arms folded across his chest, looking so much like an older version of Grant she wanted to march across the room and shake him like a bobble head. "Ask your son! No wait. You knew about this didn't you? You two are in this together!" Her jaw dropped as he silently tilted his chin and acknowledged her assumption. "What's next? You gonna send Mouse to Afghanistan to fight the war on terror? Maybe, sick Nana after the Mafia? Unbelievable. All of you people are simply unbelievable," she said, shaking her head.