Dawn Reclaimed

Claire looked up at Thomas completely dumbfounded. She'd lived in this little burg her whole life and had grown up completely oblivious to the fact that the damn town was crawling with vampires and werewolves. How could she be so ignorant to the truth? The facts were all around her. The strange outbreaks of anemia and psychosis, the sheer size and pallor of the big guys at Thomas's house, the way Tala and Drew gave her the creeps and the way Thomas's mother seemed to float gracefully across his front yard. Vampires. Why. Not. She threw up her hands and plopped down on the couch.

Boy oh boy, was she in it up to her eyeballs now. She was the one sitting on the couch of a blood donor, pregnant with Wolfman Jack's baby. The only things missing were leprechauns with pots of gold and a six-foot invisible rabbit named Harvey.

She listened as Thomas wheeled and dealed his way into an ultrasound room. Good thing too, not only was she nauseated from slugging down all the water he'd forced on her. She had to pee. And she needed time alone, before she could face Grant, his family, Thomas, his mother, and whatever else was out there, performing a damn good impersonation of a human. She needed to hide away, someplace safe, someplace sane, before she began to doubt her own humanity and believe she was one of the fanged and/or furry.

"Ok, we're all set." Thomas grinned in triumph. The radiology techs were suckers for fast food. And getting an hour of ultrasound time had been as quick and easy as promising them a pizza and a couple of beers after work. "Clare, are you ok? Maybe, I shouldn't have told you so much. I just thought. Well, I thought you'd feel better knowing you weren't hip deep in all the weird shit alone."

Claire put her hand in Thomas's and allowed him to pull her onto her feet. She stood on wobbly legs. "I wish you hadn't," she whispered. "I can't say knowing vampires are real gives me a particularly warm and fuzzy feeling." Walking along beside him through the sterile, white corridors of the hospital. She was numb. Mechanically, she undressed and slid into the hospital gown. Stretched out on the table, unaffected by the cold, puke green vinyl beneath her back and the chill of the ultrasound gel Thomas squirted on her belly.

Thomas used the blunt edge of the probe to spread out the gel on Claire's stomach. He found his landmarks. Using her bellybutton as the center and watched the screen. Guiding the probe as he searched for the baby. The images on the monitor began to make sense. The baby's heartbeat whooshed in a rhythmic bounding pulse. A little faster than average, tugging along at about one hundred eighty beats per minute. The baby was a little more developed than he'd anticipated. At Claire's estimated two months pregnant, he shouldn't be able to see the sex. But, there it was. Claire was having a boy. Most moms watched the monitor, eager to catch a glimpse of their baby. But, she turned her head away, staring at the wall across the room. Everything looked normal, considering the baby's shared Lycan heritage. "Claire, honey. There's your baby. Do you want to take a peek?"

Claire held her breath and turned her head to the screen. "There's only one?"

"Yes, just one. Do you want to know what it is? I think I can see a..."

"Don't tell me. I don't want to ruin the surprise. If Grant wants to know then I'll ask. But, otherwise, keep it a secret. Apparently, you're good at it." She sounded a bit snarkier than she'd intended. The stress was starting to get to her. She needed a long vacation in a padded rubber room.

"Look, everything is developing as it should, perhaps, a little faster than normal, though. But, the baby looks healthy enough. You're absolutely certain about the date of conception?" Thomas pointed out various points of interest to Claire. The spinal cord, the skull, its little nose, ten fingers, and ten toes, the placenta, and the umbilical cord, all intact, and thank the goddess, completely normal for someone closer to six months pregnant, than three.

"I suppose Immaculate Conception isn't out of the realm of possibilities at this point. But, yes, I'm certain of when I got pregnant." Claire smiled and exhaled relieved at the sight of her unborn child and the sound of its little heart, pounding away. "When am I due?"

"Well," Thomas did the math in his head guessing by the size and development of the baby. "You got pregnant in April. Next week is Memorial Day weekend. And your baby is completely healthy and normal from what I can tell, for a fetus between five and six months along. I think. OB is not my specialty and the baby has developed so rapidly already. It's hard to make even a close estimate for sure. Could be as early as July fourth or as late as Christmas."

"How far along should I tell people that I am?" She was going to have to develop a slick tongue, made to tell lies. "Thomas, I have to tell my mom she's going to be a grandmother."

"Five or six months, maybe? Claire, I honestly think we should have the Shaman take a look at you and the wolves should have someone to deliver babies, a midwife. You need to have a thorough exam and I'm not the person to do it." Thomas pushed print and waited for the ultrasound to spit out the pictures while he saved the images on disc.

He handed the pictures to Claire and pocketed the disc. Turned off the equipment to erase any residual images the machine might save. He took a towel and dabbed the gel off of her belly. "Claire, I'll do what I can for you. Everything I can for you and the baby. But, you can't ask me to handle this case on my own. My feelings for you haven't changed. I care for you, more than a doctor should for a patient. Do you understand?"

Claire nodded. Pulling the stark, stiff, white sheet over her stomach, she sat up with a little help from Thomas. He was right, there were certain places, no matter what the situation, that friends couldn't and shouldn't go. Things they shouldn't ask of one another.

"I'd like to draw some labs while you're here and arrange for the Shaman and a midwife to come visit you."

"Ok."

"Go ahead and get dressed and meet me in my office." Thomas walked out, leaving Claire to get dressed and collect her scattered thoughts. He needed a moment alone, with his.

Claire pulled on her clothes and shoved the pictures into her purse. She'd look at them later. Thomas's admission made her feel uncomfortable and awkward about the position she'd placed him in. She shouldn't have asked for his help. But, she had no one else with his level of confidence and expertise to turn to. Obviously, unless she wanted to be written up as a case study or worse, locked away in some lab for the rest of her life. She couldn't go to an obstetrician.

By the time Thomas collected over a dozen tubes of blood and gave his doctorly speech about how well she was doing. Reassuring her that the baby was perfectly fine. The sun was high in the sky above her. Grant was not supposed to be home till this evening. She had a few hours left to go to one of her favorite, tranquil spots. Someplace her dad used to take her when she was little. Once she turned her car on the gravel road, she peeled off her sweatshirt and threw it in the backseat. The spaghetti strapped top stretched across her stomach and breasts.

The car groaned as it bumped and shimmied along the gravel road's washboard surface. Finally, she spotted a break in the rugged fencerow and pulled over. She'd have to hoof it from here. About a mile and a half through soggy, muddy terrain, places where the rays of the sun never fully penetrated, slick with damp leaves from last fall. But, to have a couple of hours of tranquility, the hike was worth it.

It was afternoon when Claire reached the flat meadow resting between the rocky, sheer granite and shale cliffs rising into the sky like rows of jagged teeth. In the heat of the day, she'd rolled the legs of her sweatpants up to her knees and was panting and wheezing like a trooper. The sun was hot on her face and shoulders. The grass was fragrant and tickled her calves as she sat down on the ground, letting the cooler breezes gusting off the bluffs dry her sweaty skin. Everything here was quiet and still. It was just her and nature out here.

From the peak of the steep embankment, she could see the tiny town nestled in the valley below. In the bloom of summer, it was difficult to make out the individual rooftops of the houses below. The view from the bluffs always took her breath away. Everything looked pure and new, so distant and yet so close, both big and so very small from this vantage point.

The wolf tracked a scent. The smell didn't belong here. Dodging through the woods, he followed his nose where the scent led him. Pausing at the edge of the clearing. Watching the woman silently with his eyes, the younger wolf doggedly approached. A low growl of warning from the older wolf's throat sent the young wolf scampering into the deep cover of thickets and twisted branches. The alpha male padded his way over the clearing and approached the female.

Claire turned at the sound of slowly approaching, soft footfalls. She recognized the wolf immediately. She'd seen his eyes staring at her from Grant's face. She held out her hand, palm side up. The wolf's slick nose tickled her skin. Sniffing. Remembering. She sat on the damp ground and slicked her hand along the sleek hair of his ruff. "Rough day at the office, dear?" she asked.

The wolf sat on his haunches. Enjoying the warmth of the woman's palm against his fur. Yawning, he stretched out on the ground, resting his muzzle on her thigh.

Claire smiled as she ran her fingers over the velvety fur of the wolf's ears. He stared up at her with baleful, golden eyes. She didn't know wolves could smile. But, this one did. The wolf's black, leathery lips curled in a smile, showing a row of sharp, pointy, white teeth. For her, telling where the wolf ended and Grant began, was impossible. There was just too much of the wolf in him and too much of him in the wolf.

Claire and the wolf sat together, silently watching the sun creep lower in the sky. Until evening's dimness and the mosquitoes drove her to her feet. She lowered her face to the wolf's neck and buried her nose in his fur. Smelling the woods, the wild, and the man. "I'll see you soon," she whispered as she turned to leave.

The wolf yipped. Pushing her the opposite direction with that cold, big, black nose of his. Driving her to a worn and used path bordering the clearing. Obviously, the wolf had other plans for her. She followed the wolf along the unfamiliar path, until a house, towered yards away from her. The wolf ran his back beneath her palm and nudged her gently toward the house. A smile lit Claire's lips as she saw the raven-haired girl sitting on the porch swing, cheerfully and excitedly waving at her. The wolf, had guided Claire home.

Chapter 48

Hunter tried to grab a few hours of sleep before he went back out on the streets to hunt the killer. But, every time he closed his eyes he saw the woman's face. Gina Klein. Gina. Gina. Gina. Somehow, no matter how he'd tried to keep from getting emotionally drawn in. The search for Gina had become personal. He shouldn't have gone to her apartment. Taking a quiet peek into her private space had been the final straw for him. A person's dwelling told the story of the person. He knew her habits, her likes and dislikes, and how she lived. Simply, tidy, well organized, obviously goal oriented, with little time for friends or trivialities. He could only guess at why the killer had chosen her. Could be a simple case of wrong place, wrong time. But, that only made the burden of finding her and returning her to what remained of her life all the more personal to him.

Hunter threw back the expensive satin sheets and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He was weary, both in body and in soul. But, as long as there was a chance that the woman was still alive. He was going to be out there looking for her. The brothers had ordered him back to the posh high-rise suite belonging to the Guardians. When he'd seen the scrap of pink fabric laced with Gina's blood he'd lost it. And his wolf was more than happy to take up the hunt. The last thing anyone needed, especially him, was a wolf the size of a Shetland pony trotting around downtown in broad daylight. So, here he sat, lounging in the most deluxe accommodations he'd ever seen in his life while Gina was out there, somewhere, bleeding. She should be here surrounded in all this luxury and he should be out there, or rather his wolf should be, sucking the marrow from the killer's bones. And as far as he was concerned that was how this thing was going to go down.

Patrick muttered a string of curses as he came to another scrap of pink fabric. Creatively tucked beneath a garbage dumpster, the cloth was exactly like the ones he'd found previously. A neatly cut square from a piece of clothing, laced with her scent and her blood. He was tired, thirsty, and very frustrated. He'd been out wandering around collecting the tiny bits in a plastic bag. So far, his nose had led him to twenty or so of the pieces and he still had nothing.

Sebastian stood in the entryway of the alley. Blocking it from view of the casual passerby. He and his wife had lived with the Sons after the Calling for a short time. But, with the former Rogue Master dead and the Guardians in control of the city, they'd chosen their side and returned to the bustling metropolis they called home. "Another dead end."

"So it would seem," Patrick huffed. He buried the plastic bag deep into a coat pocket. The bag grew fuller and fuller as the woman's life became shorter and shorter. "Damn it!" He crouched in the alley. Refusing to give up and move on. Hoping his nose would sort through the scent of the woman's blood and rotting trash and give him another lead to follow. "The trail ends here," he said, looking up at Sebastian. "There's got to be something we've missed."

Patrick was obsessed with finding this woman. He suffered for her. Endured every second of torture and confinement with her. He had been captured and taken prisoner by the Rogues. Used as bait to lure the Sons into a trap. The Rogues were merciless in their abuses, starving and tempting him to the point of madness with human blood, locking him in a cell with a human female. Nikki, the female, had realized the futility of trying to hang on to her life. She was human in a nest of vampires. And there was no way out. Each second that she lived was on borrowed time. She sacrificed her life to give him the strength he needed to escape, and he took every last drop she offered.

Every minute of his captivity had made him more and more like the Rogues. He had been driven to the point of becoming the very thing he hated and despised the most. He had become like his captors. Feral. Rogue. Finding his way back had taken months. And although he had a good life now, there was still a part of his soul that had never recovered and never would. He knew exactly what being held a captive could do to a person's soul. More than her life was at risk. She was at risk of losing everything about her that made her human and alive. He had to find her.

Sebastian stared down at Patrick and extended his hand to help the man onto his feet. Patrick felt too much. He thought too deeply. And he accepted blame that wasn't his to shoulder. The sleeve of Sebastian's jacket slid up to reveal a tattoo, a black infinity symbol encompassing his inner right forearm, the mark of the Guardians. The days of lawlessness were thankfully over. No more hiding. No more fear. No more Rogue Master to bow down to. And he'd joined a side to ensure it never happened again. He would like to believe he was rigid enough to become a Son. But, in truth, he wasn't and neither was his wife. The brotherhood had a strict code of conduct. And their expectations of themselves and their brethren were too lofty for the likes of Starr and he to follow. Carter was no pushover. He led the Guardians and had little tolerance for bullshit. But, he understood what the Sons did not. Nature made them what they were and they did what nature dictated they do.

Sebastian gave Patrick a reassuring grin as their hands locked and hefted him onto his feet. No matter what had been accomplished, it seemed there were always two steps forward and three steps back, the days of peace and enjoying existence always beyond reach.

He felt sorry for the woman. For all the women the bastard had murdered. Humans were fragile. They couldn't endure much before their frail bodies delivered their souls to the heavens. And that was a blessing. He wanted to find her as badly as everyone else did. But, he took a small comfort in knowing that her suffering could and would eventually end. If, they didn't find her in time, at least her torture would be over. Soon.

Chance was at their makeshift, ritzy command post digging through his wallet. He never threw anything away. Not before he became a vampire and not now. He pulled out a laminated, yellow card and tossed it on the table. "I think I'll go the gym. See what I can find out. Technically, I'm still alive and my membership is still good." Back when he had to workout like a fiend to stay in shape, he belonged to the same gym as the woman had. He knew people and had friends there. If he popped by for a mile or two on the treadmill and started asking a few questions, it would be less likely to raise suspicions.

Will glanced up from where he was standing, looking over Toby's shoulder down at the screen of the woman's laptop. He'd been watching the miracle that was Toby's technical genius work to hack into her computer. Nothing, no matter how insignificant was being overlooked. And the laptop, its contents might reveal some clue as to where she was. So far, they had a whole lot of nothing. A collection of cutesy pictures of puppies and kittens and posts on Facebook, generic things nobody really cared about. He began to wonder if this woman was more than her superficial posts and e-mails suggested or if the whole 'fitting in' thing was an act. She was so plastic, so mainstream conformist. There was no way she could be the woman she pretended to be to the world. At least, he hoped not otherwise, she wouldn't last a day in captivity. "Ok. I guess I don't have to tell you..."

"I know, be careful and don't eat anybody." Chance snickered and threw some borrowed workout gear in a gym bag. He was a grown man and a proven warrior. Hell, he was a married man. And Alex, his spitfire wife, kept him well in check. But sometimes, his dad, couldn't pass up the opportunity to be, well, a dad. And Chance took it with a grain of salt. He knew his father meant well and had missed out on being a dad. Since they'd just met last year, he tended to indulge the old man when he could. "See ya."

Toby sighed. "There's nothing on here but e-mail and video games. Sorry guys. I'd hoped... but." He powered down the laptop and closed it. Gina Klein's computer was in a sad state. The machine desperately needed an upgrade and a good cleaning. He pulled a tiny screwdriver out of his pocket and got to work on the bottom side of the computer. He felt so useless, so helpless to do anything to find her. And doing something, even if it was bringing the ancient PC up to snuff was better than sitting here doing nothing. Gina was a dreamer. She believed in fairy godmothers and unicorns. She clung to the cuteness of pretty things and preferred fantasy to the awfulness that often was reality. Her ability to retreat into the world her mind created might just save her life.

He was an adept warrior. But, he didn't go out into the world too often. The brothers needed him behind a desk, where his true talent lay. Without him, this bunch of goons couldn't operate a payphone. Let alone keep all the sophisticated electronics running. And that was ok with him, he preferred the universe of megabytes with all its bells and whistles to the harsh reality of blood and daggers.