Dawn Reclaimed

Hunter crouched on the floor at her feet. Gina looked so small sitting on the center cushion of the overstuffed white leather sofa. Tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes. But, she was determined not to let them fall. Sliding the album out of her hands and laying it to the side, he said, "Gina, let me take you home."

"Hunter, this is my home. I don't have anywhere else to go. My life is here." She looked around the apartment and cringed in disappointment of the sorry life she'd led up until now. "I just can't believe this was me. I thought I was invincible. Busted my ass for what? Four white walls, a closet full of clothes that I couldn't really afford. I have tons of shoes," she snickered. " I don't wear half of them because they hurt my feet." She looked down at Hunter. Grinning hollowly, she said, "You know, this isn't even my natural hair color and I have ALWAYS. HATED. THIS. HAIRSTYLE." To prove her point she ran her hands through the cropped strands, mussing them. "What was I thinking?"

She got up from the sofa and paced from room to room. "All of this," she said swinging her arms wide. "Has been for shit." She flung open the closet door and ripped her clothes from the hangars, throwing them to the floor. "FOR SHIT! I don't want any of it! I was all about appearances. All about how things 'looked' to everybody else. I wasn't real. I wasn't me. And the damnedest thing of it is. Now, I don't even know who I am or who I'm supposed to be." She tore the last garment free and tossed it into the pile with all the others. "This isn't who I am. Gina Klein isn't even my real name for God's sake!

"I'm Gina Kleinschmidt. Born in the smallest goddamn burg in the state. After I graduated high school I craved excitement, the glitter and glamour of the big city. I went to college and majored in something totally useless. Landed a job at the local news station as a gofer. A gofer! Do you want to know why I was on that platform that night? Do you?

"At twenty-seven I thought my ass was sagging. I couldn't afford to go to a gym in the decent part of the city. And at twenty-seven, I thought I was losing my edge. There always seemed to be someone younger, prettier, smarter, snatching the things I wanted out from under my nose." She scoffed. "And there always will be. Stupid of me to realize that after the fact, isn't it? I had to damn near die to get a clue. How pathetic is that?"

Hunter listened as Gina had her melt down. Let her vent. Had no idea of how to talk her down or get her to listen to reason. He sat on the bed quietly as she threw her clothes into a pile on the floor. Cursing at the top of her lungs, she sank to her knees and began tearing through the bottom level of her closet. "Gina. Please. Stop."

"You!" Gina said as she thrust her finger at Hunter. "Aren't you just the teensiest bit pissed off? You're sitting there all calm and cool. As if none of this bothers you one bit. I know it does. I know better." She flopped down on top the mound of clothes and stared up at him. "Hell, you're just as fucked up as I am. You stoic son of a bitch, say something!"

Hunter raised a brow. "Right now, your estimation of my mental health is debatable." Gina stared up at him, blinking insanely. She lay on her back stretched out like she was enjoying a day at the beach, in a mound of rainbow colored satin, cotton, rayon, and wool.

Gina groaned and pulled the sleeve of a black wool blazer over her eyes. "A werewolf who lives in the lair of the undead thinks I've lost my mind. Can it get any worse?" She rolled off her back and sat on her haunches. "Hunter, what am I going to do? My life doesn't fit anymore. I can't go back to where I was and just pick up like nothing ever happened. But, I can't stay where I am either."

"Take some time. Explore your options. Don't be in any rush to make life changing decisions. Now is not the time for rash action."

"Maybe not. But, whether I like this life or not. Life keeps on going. Just because I don't like the ride doesn't mean I don't have to pay for the ticket. Hell, I don't even know if I have a job to go back to at this point."

"You're on sick leave."

"Oh?"

"Thomas filled out the paperwork. Everyone thinks you have mono."

"Mono?"

Hunter shrugged.

"Great, now I've gone from being clinically insane to Typhoid Mary. Wonderful."

Hunter got up from the bed and snatched the blazer from her hands. "Are you going to help or not?"

Gina shook out a wrinkled blue satin blouse and slid it onto a hanger. Before long, the room was back to its original orderly, tidy state. "Hunter, can I crash at your pad? Just until I figure all this out?"

Hunter chuckled beneath his breath at Gina's use of outdated seventies slang. "For as long as you like."

Gina sighed and rested her head on the doorframe of her closet. "Get me out of here." Wistfully wishing she could forget and go back to where she started, she tucked the photo album under her arm. She wanted to go back to when she thought she was happy. When she was oblivious to the dangers that lurked beyond every corner. She wished she could go back to a time when she was stupidly and blissfully ignorant.

"My pleasure." Hunter stood at the door, waiting for Gina to give the place a once over. The battered photo album tucked under her arm, she flipped off the lights and locked the door. Closing it tightly behind her.

Chapter 68

Claire had never been so glad for the clock to strike four. Grant pulled up right on cue. Looking like a fish in a sardine can, his knees crammed up to his ears in his little sub-compact. Claire was all for helping the environment. But Grant looked outright ridiculous. "Hi," she said as she hopped into the passenger side. "I want to stop by my house and change. Surely, I've got an old pair of shorts somewhere that still fit."

Grant chuckled. Claire didn't know Janine very well. "I figured you wouldn't want to wear scrubs out tonight. So I packed you a bag. Janine would be mortified if she saw you wearing something less than designer."

"Thanks." Claire sighed relieved to be off her feet. "What are you going to do while we're talking shower plans?"

Grant shrugged. So much had happened in the vampire world and there were so many risks that no one went out alone. Patrick watched over Janine like a hawk. The town had been quiet for months. And perhaps, that was what scared Patrick the most. Who was he kidding? He wasn't tagging along for the ambiance of the One Shot. He was tagging along to keep an eye on Claire. "I'm meeting a couple of the guys and we're going to toss back a couple of beers and play some pool."

"Sounds better than a heated discussion over what kind of cake to serve." She fished in her purse for her keys and handed them to Grant. The house was a bit stuffy. Quiet. Having that empty unlived in feeling. Even though she'd only been gone a few days, the air smelled stale. Dust had settled on the coffee table. And the floorboards creaked beneath her steps. She grabbed her bag out of Grant's hands and went to the bedroom to change. Everything was exactly as she'd left it. But, somehow, things looked different to her. As if she a visitor in her own home.

Grant had picked out a pair of brown Capri style maternity pants and a pretty red summery blouse for her to wear. If she had been her pre pregnancy weight, the outfit would have been cute. In her current state, the blouse made her belly look like a big, round, ripe, cherry. And the pants made her legs look like brown stems. She flung open her closet door and stared at her reflection. Grant couldn't have known how she'd feel about his selection in clothing. Cringing, she slammed the door shut. She looked like she belonged in a fruit bowl instead of going out to dinner. Underneath her bed, were last summer's sandals. Her feet barely fit in them due to the swelling. Brushing her hair she resisted the urge to go home and hide where nobody would see her.

The One Shot was crowded with the usual after work rush. The pub smelled like fries, hard labor, old grease, and beer. Claire spotted a dainty hand waving at her from a table in the back.

Grant spotted Nash casually leaning on a pool cue, waiting for Patrick to take a shot. Nash caught his eye and hoisted a beer in his direction. Patrick didn't bother to glance up. The two probably had a friendly bet riding on the game. "I'll be over with Nash and Patrick, if you need anything."

"Nah, I've got it under control," Claire mumbled.

"Hey girl!" A shrill voice called from behind her. The door slammed shut, letting in a hot gush of summery air.

"Hey Ginger, It looks like we're sitting over there." Claire pointed to the table in the back of the room and led the way.

"Ok. Jan is supposed to come as soon as she changes."

"Ok." Claire waddled her way through the crowd gathered around the bar and sat at the table. Groaning under her breath at Janine's sample centerpiece. The centerpiece was a big, elaborate thing covered in frills and cornflower colored roses, with a petite heavily scented tea light candle in the center. Pretty, but way overstated for something as simple as a bridal/baby shower.

"Don't you love it?" Janine beamed, turning the centerpiece over and over in her hands. She'd spent all day shopping on the Internet for just the right one. "I've got two dozen more just like it on order."

"Ah it's great... two dozen?" Claire's brow shot up in surprise. She didn't know if she even knew enough people to fill six tables, let alone two-dozen.

"Hey, Ginger. How are you doin?" Janine asked. Smiling widely at the two of them, she gestured widely with her hands. "I didn't know you were a friend of Claire's too."

"Her best friend," Ginger retorted on a brag. Fingering the centerpiece dubiously, she shot Claire a raised brow. Should have let her plan this shindig instead of Janine.

"You two know each other?" Claire asked. She had her suspicions and they were right on track. Ginger said she was good at keeping secrets. And apparently, she was. In all the years that she had known Ginger, she'd never talked about anyone named Janine.

Ginger shrugged and took a deep pull off her longneck. "I get around. What can I say?" She glanced over her shoulder when the door opened. "Oh there's Jan." She waved furiously. "JAN!"

Jan waded through the crowd and pulled out a chair. "Hi, I didn't realize there was a bar here. I just live a block away. Good to know I can get totally shitfaced and not have to worry about how I'm going to get home," She joked. Her eyes fell on the centerpiece. That color of blue would be perfect in her bedroom. "That's nice."

"This is our friend Janine. Her husband is the dork trying to hustle Claire's old man out of twenty bucks."

Jan glanced over her shoulder and snickered. "I think he won. Sorry Claire, you're twenty bucks poorer now."

Claire sighed, "Great." She snatched up a menu. "Hey, are we going to eat or what? I'm starving." She studied the menu, debating over pub fries loaded with cheese, bacon, jalapenos, and sour cream or a huge plate of nachos.

Janine grimaced. She was trying to get over her phobia of food. Spending the summer working at the ice cream stand for Robbie had helped. But, that was ice cream. The scent of food, hot food cooked in grease and loaded with animal bi-products repulsed her. "Hi, Alex. Sam."

Claire almost jumped out of her seat. She hadn't heard anyone approach behind her through the din of twanging country music and chatter. She remembered meeting Alex at the compound. Sam was new, extraordinarily beautiful, like the rest of the vampires, with curly locks of black hair cupping an angelic face. "I didn't hear you walk up behind me." She muttered in embarrassment.

"Sorry," Sam whispered.

"You guys know Ginger. This is Claire's friend Jan." Janine said introducing everyone, keeping things casual. She motioned for Alex and Sam to have a seat.

"Hi." Alex and Sam said in unison. Snatching chairs and sitting at the table.

A waitress sauntered over to the table to take their orders. Claire noticed that the waitress didn't bother asking Sam, Alex, or Janine if they wanted anything. Claire wondered if the waitress knew what they were. She wondered, how many people in the bar knew what they were. She placed her order and swirled a straw in her iced tea. Wishing she didn't know about them at all.

"Anyway," Janine said undaunted by Claire's apparent discomfort. She pulled out a canvas bag. "Here's what I've got so far." She laid out napkins in three shades of blue for Claire's inspection. The menu was next, neatly typed and indexed. Then she pulled out a book of cake pictures for Claire to shuffle through.

"Janine, this is really too much," Claire said. Sifting through the book. Where were the ridiculous pastel ducks, baby buggies, and storks that she associated with a baby shower? "You shouldn't put yourself through all this trouble. We barely know each other. I can't ask you to do all this." Claire closed the book. Her mouth watering as a plate mounded and heaping with fries was parked in front of her.

"We're already friends. And besides, I want to throw you a shower. You have no idea how excited we are for you." Janine scowled and inched away as Claire popped a fry dripping with cheese into her mouth. "All I need for you to do is pick out the cake, approve the menu, and tell me a date. I'll handle the rest." She sighed and rested her chin in her hand. "I'm still trying to find some strippers."

Claire coughed hard, gulping the half chewed fry. "Strippers? For a baby shower?" she choked.

Ginger snickered. "Sounds good to me."

Janine cast Claire a truly pitied look. "Honey, this is your bachelorette party too. What's a bachelorette party without strippers?"

"Strippers. Male strippers," Claire gasped. She was inviting her mother. She couldn't have strippers at her party. Her mother would be absolutely mortified. "No. Noooooo strippers. Please."

Janine rolled her eyes. "Very well. No male strippers. What about dancers? Scantily clad male dancers then?"

Sam chuckled and patted Claire on the shoulder. "That's why I eloped."

"NO!"

"Ok, ok. This is going to be a girls only party then." Janine held up her hands in surrender. She would have to come up with some other way to spice up the party. "So when's the date?"

"Ah, Ginger are you working this weekend?"

"Nope. Free as a bird."

"Jan?"

"I can come."

"Friday? Is that too early?"

Janine beamed. Faced with another challenge, it was her chance to shine. "Friday is fine for us."

Grant stuffed another twenty in Patrick's hand. He was done. So far, the vampire had managed to swindle him out of sixty bucks and Nash out of thirty. "I'm going to go check on Claire. See if she needs rescued from Janine."

Patrick palmed the money and slid it into his back pocket. "She might." He grinned and chalked his cue. Marcus had been standing in the corner quietly analyzing the pool game. "Who's next?"

Grant wedged in between the gaggle of women and rested his hand on Claire's shoulder. Stealing a fry from her plate, he stuffed it into his mouth. "You doin all right?"

"Yeah," Claire said meekly. "Grant this is Jan, and you know Ginger. I think you've met everyone else."

Grant stuck his free hand across the table and shook with Jan and Ginger. "Hi, ya. You taking care of Claire for me?"

Ginger snorted, "We sure are."

"Good. I'm going to get another beer from the bar. Just let me know when you're ready to leave. I'll be over playing darts. I've already donated enough to Janine's shopping fund for one week."

Janine giggled, "And I thank you."

Claire was a cross between exhausted, drained, and absolutely and infuriatingly curious about her best friend. How much did she really know about Ginger? The tattoo stood out on her neck, dark lines peeking up over the collar of her high necked blouse. Obviously, she didn't know as much about her friend as she thought. "Ginger, I need to go to the bathroom. Come with me."

Ginger raised her brows. She hadn't been asked to accompany another female to the bathroom since high school. Claire looked like she had something on her mind. Something big. "Sure." She snatched up her purse in one hand and her third beer in the other.

Claire parted the crowd like the Red Sea. No one wanted to get in the way of a pregnant woman dressed like a giant cherry on a beeline to the bathroom. Once Ginger followed them in, she locked the door behind them. "What is going on here?"

Ginger looked at Claire in confusion. "We're planning your party?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it. You know these people."

"Well, yeah. It's a small town. I know almost everybody," Ginger stammered. Blushing furiously, she dabbed at her cheeks with a makeup brush. Claire's confrontation startled her.

Claire hooked a finger down Ginger's blouse and pulled it away from her throat. Exposing the tattoo scrolling across the right side of her neck. "That's what I'm talking about. Ginger why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what? I've had this tattoo for years. I keep it covered. You know the policy at work about tattoos. You've just never seen it before."

"No. Thomas has one just like it. And so does Lori."

"It was a mother daughter thing. We decided to get matching tattoos." Ginger brushed Claire's fingers away and straightened her turtleneck.

"No. Ginger, be honest with me. You knew those people. You know what they are."

"I do. Claire, they're just people. Like you and me, people Claire. They've got a few minor differences, so what? You're letting Janine plan your shower. If you hate them so much how can you let her do that? Doesn't that make you a hypocrite?"

"No. I don't hate them. In fact, I like Janine. I wasn't talking about that. I just don't understand them. And I certainly don't let them feed off of me. What are you going to do at the party, be an entrée?"

Ginger huffed. "I let my daughter feed from me. That's all. There are a lot of things that I couldn't tell you at the time it happened. I was sworn to secrecy. I gave my word." She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't tell you." She looked up at Claire. "How'd you find out?"

"Grant told me."

"But, he's not one of them. He's not a donor. How?"

"See," Claire retorted. "Everyone has their secrets." She unlocked the door and turned the knob in her hands. Leaving Ginger to stare after her. She waddled back to the table and snatched up her purse. Pointing to a slick page of the book, she said, "I think that cake will do."

"Great! So everything is settled. We're having the party here. I've already booked the room. You e-mailed your guest list earlier this week. Since we're short on time. I'll make calls and do e-invitations. Looks like we're all set." Janine poured on the enthusiasm. Seeing Ginger emerge from the bathroom looking very repentant, had her curious about what the two women had talked about. "I'll pick you up Friday afternoon." She clapped her hands excitedly. "I can't wait to get my hands on your hair. Makeovers! Love them!"

Claire rolled her eyes. She was pregnant. She was going to look pregnant and bloated no matter what Janine did to her. "Throw in a pedicure and I'm so there." She hadn't been able to reach her feet in weeks. No doubt they were a wreck. And she was too embarrassed to ask Grant to sand on her calloused heels.

Janine beamed. "You got it."

Claire smiled at Ginger. She'd gotten her point across. And now it was time to bail her friend out of the hot seat. She had plenty that she hadn't and couldn't clue Ginger in on as well. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Ginger returned Claire's smile. "Ok."

"See you tomorrow." Jen chimed in as Claire picked her way through the thinning crowd. She had a really nice time. Everyone at the table seemed to accept her. Claire and Ginger's friends seemed nice enough. Jen thought the little bar was quaint and had a unique atmosphere, simple and uncomplicated with a dash of redneck charm thrown in for good measure. Although Claire's reviews of the food were derogatory, she thought her burger and fries tasted just fine. Maybe, she would fit in here after all.