Dawn Reclaimed

Gradually, his family fell apart. His sons withdrew. Turning to Grant and to their grandfather as a replacement for him. Mouse, barely knew him. He'd never been a father to her. He'd never tried. He couldn't. To go on living would have meant letting Marianne go. His children were growing up without him.

The woman in his arms clung to him, leaning on him and drawing from his strength. What a disappointment would that prove to be. He had nothing to offer. And he knew, once she was stable enough, he had to send her packing. Holding onto the past was easier than grasping on and plunging headlong into the unknown future. Holding on, simpler than letting go and trying to rebuild all the things that had been lost. The only thing he had to offer Gina Klein was disappointment. He couldn't be her anchor. Not unless she had the sick desire to be dragged down to the bottom with him.

Gina opened her eyes. The world was fuzzy and confused. She felt Hunter's chest rise and fall beneath her cheek. He was alive and so was she. Somehow, they'd managed to escape. They were some place safe. She was safe. At least, that's what the endless parade of strangers kept telling her. She ran her hand over his stiff, coarse, cotton t-shirt. Checking to see if he were really here. Her hand traveled up along his chest. Her fingers rested on his neck, feeling his pulse pounding away. He was alive. Warm. Breathing. Living. She wasn't dead. This wasn't a dream. She was alive. "You're really here," she rasped. Her throat was parched and her voice weak as she said, "I thought you were dead."

Hunter tried to slide Gina off his lap. Her weak arms wrapped around his chest and her heels dug into the bedding, fighting to stay planted. "Gina, you're safe now. You can let go and I'll still be here. I'm just scooting over some and giving you some space."

Gina shook her head. "No." She wasn't letting him go. Touching him made this real and kept the nightmare away. He gently tried to unwrap her arms from around his neck. She clung all the tighter, stubbornly refusing to let him go. "No. Don't want to."

"Shhh," Hunter soothed. His fingers loosened their grip. Gina was frail and frightened. And if touching him helped to ground her to reality, he'd allow her more time and try again later. He smoothed a hand across her back. The ill-fitting hospital gown had fallen open allowing him access to her bare, cool skin. He grabbed the covers and pulled them up around her. Covering her to create a barrier between his palm and her warm, soft, skin.

"Where are we?" Gina asked. She remembered the room and its plush décor. But, it still didn't answer her question. She couldn't figure out where or when she was. "What day is it?"

"We are staying with some of my friends. You are safe here. They'll take good care of you." He eased her arm from around his neck, settling her hand in his lap. Wrapping her fingers in his palm to warm them. "Yesterday, we were rescued. You've been asleep most of the time since then. You should try to go back to sleep. It's only a little after midnight. We can sort things out in the morning. After you've had some rest."

"Yesterday?" She'd lost a whole day. She scrambled to put the pieces together. She remembered a man dressed in black denim and leather. She remembered drinking something. Being lifted in the man's arms. Being told that she was safe. She remembered the kiss of the cool morning air and the dawn on her cheek. She remembered...she remembered... but what she remembered could have been a dream. Wolves?

A wolf. Yes! She remembered a wolf. The wolf, turned into Hunter. That part wasn't real. The part where she drank from the man's wrist wasn't real either. So much was muddled in her brain. She had serious doubts about what was real and what wasn't. And didn't know how to tell truth from the convenient reality of the fiction her mind had concocted to defend her fragile psyche.

"What I remember isn't making any sense." Her bottom lip trembled. "I saw how badly he hurt you. You should have died. I thought you were. I thought you'd left me there alone with him...I was so scared..." Tears fell down her cheeks in a tumble she couldn't control. "I was hurt too. My cheek." She pressed her hand to her face, expecting pain, swelling and bruises. But, finding whole skin, smooth and healed instead. "How?"

Gina scrambled off Hunter's lap and grappled with the blankets and his t-shirt. Pulling it up, expecting thick bandages and long, deep wounds beneath. Instead, his skin was whole, unmarred except for scars of puckered healing flesh. "How? I saw you! I saw what he did! You should be dead!" Her hands trembled as she fisted the material in her hands. "I'm glad you're not. I'm glad I'm not. But, why aren't we dead? What happened to us, Hunter?"

Inching his shirt out of her fist and lowering the cloth over his abdomen, he said, "Some things are better not to question, Gina. Just accept what you see and take it for the gift that it is. Forget your questions. The answers won't do you any good. You are safe and healed. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. But, it doesn't make any sense. I should be in the hospital. Where are the cops? Why aren't they asking me for a statement? Where am I?" Gina rolled up onto her hands and knees, backing away from Hunter. "This isn't right." Her foot slid off the edge of the bed. The sole of her foot planted into the deep pile of the carpet beneath it. Her eyes darted nervously around the room. Searching for an exit. Someplace she could run and hide until she could figure things out. "This isn't right!"

She stood on wobbly legs, eying a door behind her. A bathroom. She could lock herself in. Maybe, there was a window. She could scream for help. Climb out and run away. Tape tugged at the hairs on her arm. Clear fluid ran from a bag, down a length of tubing and into her arm. Panic struck her. Something was being pumped into her body. She grabbed the tubing and pulled, ripping the plastic catheter out of her arm. Sending a spray of blood onto the bedding.

Gina stood, nauseated and dizzy. Fascinated and spellbound by the sight of her blood as it rolled down her fingers and dripped onto the carpet. Blood. Her blood. The blade cut. Her blood ran. The world turned black around the edges. Her head spun dizzily. Her knees buckled and she felt herself fall.

Hunter barely made it to Gina in time. She collapsed in his arms, trembling and heaving, staring in fascination at the tiny trickle of blood rolling down her arm. He clamped a hand over the pinprick hole dragged her to the bed. Covering the stained sheets with the blanket, he dabbed at the drying blood with the edge of his t-shirt. Forcing her head down on his shoulder, he rocked her in his arms till her trembling stilled. "Easy, Gina. It's ok."

"But... I ... I... don't understand." Gina's world began to right itself again. Blackness receded giving birth to more and more confusion. Things that she remembered that just weren't adding up. "How could you be healed? How could I? Who rescued us? What's this place? Why...?" Images of the killer flooded her mind. He was dead. Someone killed him. She remembered.

Hunter pressed a finger to her lips, silencing Gina. God, he couldn't answer her questions. He couldn't. She'd never be able to return the life she'd been torn from if he told her the truth of the fictions she'd been led to believe. His kind. Vampires weren't real. He needed her to believe the lie. But, as far as logical explanations, he had nothing. Nothing to explain the things she saw. Nothing but the truth he'd been struggling to protect her from. Gently unwinding her from his body, he got up off the bed and walked over to the mini fridge across the room.

Reaching in, he pulled out two bottles of chilled orange juice. Popping the top he handed her one and kept one for himself. He took a sip and motioned for her to do the same. He wasn't any good at the emotional stuff. Never had been. He was more of a tend to business and deal with the things he could. And right now he could not deal with Gina's fear and desperation. Not without feeling too much himself. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"I was on a diet before..." Her lip trembled as tears threatened to fall. Food was the last thing on her mind. The juice bottle clutched in her hand chilled her fingers to the bone. The juice would be sweet and cool. But, the thought of it...she couldn't muster the will to drink.

Hunter gently took the juice bottle from her hand and held it to her lips. "We're not going talk about that. Take a drink." He praised her as she obediently took a sip or two from the bottle. "I for one am not on a diet. And today, neither are you. I'm famished. I'm going to call Barbara to come in and help you clean up. And then we're going to have some dinner. Alone, just the two of us. Ok?"

"Ok. But..."

"But nothing. Drink your juice while I get Barbara," he said authoritatively. Cutting off her questions, he walked to the door and stuck his head out. As promised, Barbara was sitting in a chair in the hallway. He made his request and watched as she bustled down the hall at vampire speed to fetch a change of clothing, bed linens, and food. He turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature while Gina quietly sipped her juice. Intent on watching every move he made, she didn't so much as blink.

Without the color enhancement of the contact lenses, her eyes were pale green with flecks of brown and gold. Her lips the shade of a vibrant wild rose in bloom and her complexion, cleansed of any trace of makeup, creamy peach. Her hair had a natural curl to the ends, cupping her jaw line. She was much prettier in person than she had been in the photographs he'd seen of her. Captivity had done nothing to dull her beauty. He'd known underneath the bruises, the fear, and the pain. Gina was truly a natural beauty. That was something he'd never understood about women. Probably, never would. Why in those photographs, even her driver's license picture, she worked so hard to cover up what she had in abundance beneath the layers of makeup and hair products. And dieting? Please. She was curvy, perfect, just the way the goddess had intended her to be.

His thoughts wouldn't do either one of them any good. They were unwelcome, unwanted, and definitely inappropriate. "Your shower is ready," he said in a strained voice. Taking the empty bottle out of her hands and easing her up from the bed, he said, "Why don't you go ahead and get started while you're waiting on Barbara to return?" He'd seen his share of beautiful women. The women of the pack were lithe grace and natural beauty. But, none of them held his attention for more than a millisecond. In his whole life, he'd only had eyes for one woman. His departed Marianne. And why Gina was affecting him now, in a situation like this. He didn't quite understand. It had to be a side effect of their time together. Their captivity at the hands of a madman was the only common bond they shared. Perhaps, it was his need to keep her safe and protected that drew him to her. And that was so wrong. She needed to go back to where she came from. And as soon as she was able to, he'd see to it that she got there.

Gina numbly followed him into the immaculate white marble tiled bathroom. Staring at the gleaming surfaces idly, her mind swam overwhelmed by everything. Shutting down, robotically, she stood in the middle of the room as Hunter shut the door behind him. This was the first time she'd been alone since her rescue. Trembling, her fingers untied the tie holding the gown closed. It fell into a messy pile at her feet. She ran her hands over her belly. Skin unmarred and perfect. She extended her arm and inspected the flesh in the mirror. Healed. Lifting her eyes for a better look, she stared in the mirror. Her face was smooth, free from blemish and bruise. How? How could this be, her mind screamed.

She remembered every bit of pain the man had inflicted upon her. Felt every cut, every slap, and every punch. But, she stood staring at her reflection. Perfect and whole when she should be a bruised, cut up mess. Hunter told her it was best just to accept and be grateful for it. He was closed up tight about any plausible explanation. And it would be best if she ran with his advice and didn't question. But, inquisitiveness was part of her nature, the mark of every good journalist. And it was not in her to accept the inexplicable. The truth was so close she could taste it. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Gina dear, it's Barbara, can I come in?"

Barbara had enlisted a small army of her friends to help her clean the room, change the linen, and tidy up while she tended to Gina. From the other side of the door, she could hear the shower running and Gina's feet shuffling against the tiled floor. "Gina?"

"Yes," Gina answered automatically. She should use the bathroom a toilet, a real toilet with plenty of fluffy, white, toilet paper and privacy. The light reflected off the white porcelain. She should take a shower. Hot water and soap, shampoo that smelled as fragrant as a garden in the spring. She should take advantage of all the common conveniences that she'd taken for granted her whole life. But she couldn't roust the enthusiasm to do any of those things.

Barbara let herself in and shut the door firmly behind her. "Gina," she said, taking her by the arm and leading her toward the shower. "Come on, I'll help you." Gina was in shock, her feet moving, lifting up to step over the lip of the tub and planting firmly in place on the other side. Gina was here, going through the motions. But, not here, simply obeying. Subdued into compliance by confusion.

Gina stepped into the shower. The hot water fell from the showerhead in warm, soothing cascades. Fragrant soap slicked over her skin as Barbara washed her back. Bubbles frothed and slid over her shoulders as her nurse got down to business, scrubbing at her hair. A soapy rag was thrust into her hand and in robot like movements she took care of washing what remained. On cue, she stepped out into the warmth of towels wrapped around her shoulders and rubbed over her limbs.

Being naked in front of a stranger should have embarrassed her. And maybe, it would have if she hadn't been so numb. She was alive. That had to count for something. She'd been so willing to accept the inevitability of her death at the hands of a killer. In so many ways, she'd welcomed it as an end to the pain. That she was alive, whole and breathing, the opposite of what she'd expected had her confused and refusing to accept the gift it was. Why was she healed? Why was she here at all? Life had given her a second chance. Few people got those. What was she supposed to do with it? Her old world seemed too small. Too wrote with things and standards she'd been struggling to fit into. She'd never fit. But, where did that leave her? She'd survived against all odds. Why?

Gina stood in front of the vanity mirror, staring at her distorted reflection in the foggy mirror. For the first time in over a week, she felt a little more like herself. At least, her reflection was a fair representation of the woman she thought she knew. But, she would never be the same. She was far from who she had been a week or so ago. She took a toothbrush loaded with toothpaste and went about the business of brushing her teeth with mechanical precision. Rinsing and scrubbing her teeth again and again until her mouth burned with the taste of mint.

She sat where Barbara parked her, on the pink velvet covered stool and allowed the woman to comb and blow dry her wet hair. Styling it in a way Gina never would have, loosely with her fingers, working the natural wave into curls instead of taming them into submission with a paddle brush and a flat iron. She declined the box of makeup Barbara tried to coax her into applying. Dressing in the clothes provided for her, Gina pulled on the silky underwear and soft, cotton yoga pants, sports bra, and loose long sleeved t-shirt. The colors were subdued, muted tones of navy blue and hushed, subtle dove gray.

"Are you feeling better now?" Barbara asked. Trying her best to hide her concern behind a gentle smile, she crouched on the floor and lifted Gina's foot into her lap. She slid socks over the ends of Gina's polished toenails and onto her feet. The clothes were from Janine's endless stash of sizes and styles. Barbara had worried that she had chosen something Gina wouldn't like or had guessed the wrong size. She needn't have worried so much about it. Gina was distant. Obeying with almost robot like movements, her eyes clouded with a vacant expression, devoid of life.

Gina lifted her eyes and winced at the concern in Barbara's. She didn't mean to be a burden to these people who had been nothing but kind to her. Dressed in slacks and a simple button down blouse. Her blonde hair neatly coifed and sprayed into a trendy style, Barbara appeared a smidge past middle age. Laugh lines crinkled the corners of her blue eyes and gave them a compassionate gentleness. Oddly, her face was devoid of makeup or any of the trappings of a woman trying to preserve her youth. Barbara had the demeanor of the mom every kid wished they'd had growing up. "Will you tell me where I am? How is it I'm completely healed?"

Barbara smiled down at Gina and guided her up off the stool. "You're safe and amongst friends. For right now, your job is to get better. That's the only thing you need to worry about." She steered Gina out of the bathroom and sat her down at a small table in the sitting room adjacent to the bedroom. The explanations weren't hers to give. Gina had questions. In her situation, who wouldn't? Dane was very tight lipped about what he planned to do with their guest. The only directive anyone had been given was to be a good host and see to her every need and comfort. Gina wasn't ready to handle the truth. But, she wasn't ready to go back to her life either. She was in that fragile place where one push too hard could tilt her too far in either direction.

Hunter watched her with those unearthly black eyes of his, monitoring every move she made as she steered Gina toward the table and helped her into a seat. Barbara was glad Gina wasn't alone in this time of crisis. Hunter wasn't going anywhere. She didn't appreciate the way he stared her down. But, she understood. When it came to Gina's safety there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to protect her. Hunter was not a man who trusted easily. To him, everyone was a potential enemy, even his closest friends. He was an enigma to her. Distant and closed off, yet around Gina he softened. Barbara was not offended by his unspoken hint that she should leave the two of them alone to enjoy their meal. That was fine with her. She was still too human to be around food without feeling the loss. And although the meal Anna had pulled out all the stops to prepare looked wonderful, it smelled horrible.

Reaching into her pocket, she set a small container of pills on the table. "Take these after you eat."

"What are they?" Gina asked.

"Thomas, my son and your doctor, ordered you some vitamins and iron pills. You're a little anemic and malnourished." Barbara omitted the fact that there was also an anti-depressant slipped in to ease Gina until she got her feet back on terra firma. "You'll see that she takes them?" Barbara asked Hunter pointedly. "I'll be around if you need anything."

Hunter pulled up a chair and sat at the small two-seater table the vampires had converted into a virtual buffet. "Of course," he said as Barbara left and discreetly closed the door behind her.

Gina was amazed by all the food. She didn't think she'd ever see food again. She believed her last meal would be a nibble off the corner of a snack cake she'd found in her desk drawer the day...She wouldn't think about it. The smell of the food should cause her stomach to rumble and her mouth to water. Her body couldn't seem to muster the slightest amount of enthusiasm for the feast Hunter piled on her plate. Chicken, fried to perfection and smothered with mashed potatoes and gravy. A salad topped with fresh field greens and little chunks of feta cheese. Hot rolls still warm from the oven sat in a covered basket in the center of the table between Hunter and she. Cheesecake piled high with strawberries and glaze was sitting to the side ready to be served for dessert. There was brewed iced tea with mint leaves and slices of lemon floating amongst the ice cubes.