Dawn Reclaimed

"Bait?" Gina's voice shook. "What are you talking about?"

"The man. He knew about the vampires. No one knows how he found out. But, he knew what they were. The women he killed, he used them to get their attention. His motive was quite planned out. He was using their blood to lure the vampires in. He chose you. He kept you alive to use you to draw them out. He knew the vampires would search for you. He used your blood to lead the vampires to him.

"He took bits of your clothes and saturated them with your blood. He left a trail all over town. Working the vampires into a frenzy. Playing with them. Tormenting them. They did everything they could to try and find you. Even calling on the wolves for help. That's how I got involved. I was tracking you and trying to get a lock on his scent. I'm only sorry I failed you and it took me so long to find you."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gina shook violently. Enraged that no one had bothered to share the information until now. Angered over the fact that she suffered so violently and they knew why. They hid the truth from her.

"I'm not telling you this to hurt you. I just want you to know. To understand, how dangerous the world you live in really is."

"There's more isn't there?"

"I'm afraid so. Dane, the vampire that saved you with his blood, he had no other choice. But, when you drank from him, a link was formed."

"What does that mean?"

"Haven't you noticed how noisy your mind has been lately? Haven't you noticed random emotions and thoughts that suddenly pop into your head for no apparent reason?"

"How'd you know?" Gina gasped.

"I know because I too drank from a vampire. The one that looks young enough to card for a pack of cigarettes. Patrick. Gina, those aren't your thoughts, they're Dane's."

"How long will it last? I thought I was losing my mind."

"I don't know how long. A year, ten years, maybe longer, in time the link will fade and your thoughts will be your own again."

"You tried to explain this to me once before. You gave me a sugar coated watered down version of the truth," Gina accused.

"You weren't ready for the full length version yet. If you're going to go out into the world on your own, you need to know the truth, all of it."

"Did he ask you to tell me? Was he too big of a coward to face me himself? Couldn't the vampires explain to my face why I was tortured? What about the other women? The ones that weren't so lucky. Who's going to explain it to their families? You say the world out there is dangerous? What about the one down here?"

"Gina. I should have told you sooner. I realize that now. You were doing so much better. Regaining your strength and your confidence. I didn't want to jeopardize your recovery."

"Jeopardize my recovery?" Gina scoffed. "How am I supposed to know the bad guys from the good guys? How am I supposed to tell the difference between my thoughts and his? I can't even trust what's running around in my head anymore.

"Let me sum this whole mess up. I was the lucky contestant for no other reason than the fact that I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I was snatched out of my life. Tortured. But kept alive. Used as bait, I believe you called it. Called me. After damn near being killed. The vampires finally came. Instead of letting me die. One gave me his blood. And now I've got him prattling around in my head for who knows how long."

"Gina. I truly am sorry for everything that you've endured." Dane said as he walked into the room. "If I could I'd take your suffering upon myself."

"But you can't."

"No."

"What took you so long to find me? Don't you have supernatural senses or something?"

"Normally, yes. The man masked his scent and yours. We couldn't get a lock on his trail. That's when we called the wolves for help. Without their help you would have died."

"How many other women were killed?" Gina asked. Guilty that she survived when they didn't. Why her? Why not one of them instead?

"Three." Dane crouched at her feet and lowered his head. "Please forgive us."

"Forgive you? For what? Shouldn't you be asking that of the other women's families?"

"If only I could. I'm only sorry that we didn't get to you sooner and that you suffered so much. Please, tell me you can forgive me and the rest of my kind for our failure."

Gina stretched out a hand and laid it on top of Dane's spiky hair. "You did everything you could?"

"Yes."

"And now I know everything? NO secrets?"

"Yes. No more secrets." Dane lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Gina stared into his eyes. Seeing the regret that filled them, she sensed, somehow she knew, he was telling her the absolute truth. "Then there's nothing to forgive. When you found me you could have let me die. I realize how much you risked to save my life. And I am grateful to you. All debts paid and squared away, we are even."

"Your forgiveness and understanding mean more to me and my people than you will ever realize. Know that you didn't suffer alone. For every second of pain you endured. We were there with you, in our hearts." Dane said. Rising to his feet, he backed out of the room. "I'll leave you two alone to continue your discussion." Discreetly, he pulled the door closed behind him.

"You think you failed me too?" Gina asked. Turning her attention to Hunter, she saw the man behind his stoic expression. Hunter felt too much. He thought too deeply. And he bore guilt that wasn't his to bear.

"If I hadn't failed. You wouldn't have had to drink Dane's blood. You would have been out of there."

"Hunter. What could you have done?"

"I could have waited for back up. I was overconfident and reckless. I underestimated my opponent."

"And you suffered for it."

"We both did."

Gina shook her head. "I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone. We could play 'what if' and 'should have, would have, could have' all night and it won't change what happened. We have to deal with it and go on. Otherwise, what we went though was for nothing. We don't have any choice. Stop blaming yourself. Let it go."

"Gina, you don't understand."

"Yes I do. Perfectly. You don't know how to feel anything but guilt, shame, and misery. You live to be miserable. You've been that way for so long. You don't know any different. You can't help it. I'm sticking around long enough to go to Claire's wedding. After that, I'm going home. I can't stay here. I can't be petrified of living. I don't want to be miserable. I don't want to hide behind a wall of shame and regret. The one thing I can't understand is why you do."

Hunter scrubbed his hand over his face. His skin was flushed and hot against his palm. Everything she said about him was true. He had spent the last decade hiding. Isolating himself behind a wall piled high with misery, regrets, self-pity, and shame. She was right. Maybe he was so used to feeling nothing but pain. He didn't know any better. He sat in the library alone for hours. Lost in thought. Contemplating what to do, for the first time in a decade, with his life. But, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.



Chapter 71

Tristen cursed aloud and pounded on the rusty bolt. "Come on. Give me a break!" He twisted the wrench. Gritting his teeth from the strain. The wrench broke free, the bolt stubbornly locked in place. Ramming his knuckles into the blades of the fan blade, he cursed, "You stupid old bitch!" He pushed the creeper out from beneath the car, rubbing his damaged knuckle with his fingers.

"Need some help?"

Tristen peeked out from under the hood. Blinking in disbelief. "Dad?" His dad stood in the garage. His hands thrust into his pockets. His shoulders were slumped. A sheepish, apologetic look was spread across his face. "Ah. Sure," Tristen said. He reached into the tool chest and tossed a wrench to his dad. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"I think I can figure it out," Hunter said. Catching the wrench, he leaned on the rusty fender and took a peek under the hood. "You've come a long way on this hunk of junk."

"Hey, don't disrespect the ride," Tristen chided. Tuning the radio to something else besides heavy metal, he cast a disbelieving glance at his dad who was busily turning wrenches under the hood. Were they really having a father son moment? Something was different about the man he knew as his father. Not about to over analyze the rare event or jinx it. He stuck his head under the hood. Accepting his father for what he was willing to offer.

Marianne trotted into the garage. The big house was quiet and kind of lonely. All the younger kids were down for a nap and the older ones were out in the woods on a hike. Leaving her, the middle kid alone in the empty house with nothing to do and all sorts of ways to get into trouble. She wasn't a troublemaker and she sure didn't like Grandpa Nash's version of discipline. So, she was going to hang out with Tristen instead. She stopped when she saw a big set of shoulders bent over Tristen's car. "Daddy?"

Hunter looked up, almost banging his head on the hood at the sound of his daughter's high pitched little girl squeal of delight. "Mouse." Grinning he opened his arms and caught her as she leapt into them. How long had it been since he'd held his daughter? She was so open, so much like her mother, so willing to forgive and forget. He smoothed his hands down her braid and marveled at how big she'd gotten.

Marianne sandwiched his cheeks between her palms and lowered her nose to her father's. "Where have you been?" And she didn't mean for the last week or two. She meant, for most of her life.

Hunter cringed beneath her brown glare. "I've been gone too long haven't I?" His daughter should have had a look of child like wonder and innocence in her eyes. Instead she had the look of someone who was much older and had seen way too much. Life had been hard on her. His twelve-year mental hiatus had been hard on her. "Sorry." He couldn't make it up to her. He couldn't change the past. But, he could change is future and his daughter's future.

"S'ok, Dad," Marianne said. She gave her father her best messy wet lipped kiss and wiggled out of his arms. Grasping onto his hand tightly fearful that he might disappear again. "What are you doing, Tristen?"

"Giving my girlfriend a little extra TLC. I'm almost ready for the big debut." Tristen smiled down at his sister, who was beaming with joy and looking up at their dad with big, round, worshipful eyes.

Daniel made a beeline straight for the garage once he finished the hike. He didn't hate nature, after all, he was going to be living along beside it for a long, long, time. But really, how many pine trees and maples did he need to see? He popped in his earbuds and turned the pounding beat louder. Skidding to a stop in surprise to see his dad, Tristen, and Mouse standing around the car talking. Did somebody die and nobody told him? Looked like a freaking family reunion or some other dumb shit to him. The Brady Bunch, they weren't. He flashed a peace sign with his right hand and sauntered over to the car. Not ignoring his dad, but not exactly paying any attention to him either.

His dad punched him lightly in the bicep. Daniel nodded in acknowledgement and threw a light punch back. "Hey."

Hunter's lips curled into a smile as he rubbed the spot where Daniel landed the punch. His son was a younger carbon copy of him at that age. "Hey."

"All right, that should do it," Tristen said hesitantly. Not absolutely certain that his mechanical abilities were quite enough to bring the hunk of rusted metal back to life. The tires were aired up. The battery was good. There were more new parts under the hood than old ones. It was now or never. He slammed the hood closed and slid behind the wheel. Fingering the keys nervously, he pressed the gas pedal once and held his foot on it. "Come girl, don't let me down now."

Whispering a silent prayer he turned the key. Sluggishly, groaning and sputtering the engine rattled to life. Filling the garage with thick, choking, black exhaust. He pressed on the gas, revving the engine. The engine responded with a deafening roar as pistons and gears moved that had not moved in years. He stroked the dash and gave his father a triumphant grin.

Marianne hopped into the passenger side and shimmied over the headrest into the backseat. She bounced up and down, ignoring the springs pinching her butt. She was willing to digress a few years for the chance to bond with her Dad again. Pretend she didn't have any reservations about his sudden presence, all of him here, mentally and physically in their lives again. "Let's take it for a ride!"

Rolling his eyes, Daniel climbed into the backseat. "Whatever," he grumbled. A part of him wanted to go under hook, line, and sinker. Believe in his dad again. He could not share Mouse's enthusiasm or Tristen's quiet acceptance of their father. He didn't trust the man. They might not know better. But, he did. Expect the worst and you were never disappointed when it happened. Better that way when it came to his father.

Hunter opened the garage door. His eyes gleaming with pride at his son's accomplishment and his heart bursting, filled with joy that something as simple as popping by had turned into a family function, their first one in many, many years. He slid into the passenger side. "Open 'er up and see what she's got."

"Ah Dad, we might end up pushing her back home. And I haven't gotten plates yet," Tristen protested. Almost chuckling at the old man's enthusiasm, he slid the gearshift into reverse and gingerly gave his beauty some gas. Amazed, as she responded to his commands and backed out of the parking space. He almost cried when he slid into drive and noisily sputtered, spraying gravel with her rear tires as he gave her some gas.

He took it easy on his girl. Driving her down to the end of the lane. Carefully navigating her in reverse and then back into drive. Turning her. The engine began to smoke and wheeze painfully. Gently, he inched her along, painfully slow. With a shudder and a shimmy, the car died. Tristen pumped the gas and turned the key. The starter kicked over. But, stubbornly, the car refused to start. Embarrassed, he looked at his dad, "Looks like we're pushing her home."

Hunter snorted. "Eh, nothing a few more turns of the wrench can't fix. At least we know where to start."

Daniel looked up from his iPod, "Yeah, the junkyard."

"Mouse, take the wheel," Hunter ordered. "Come on guys, we're pushing."

Marianne looked in the rearview mirror at the three men pushing the car up the narrow lane. Carefully she turned the wheel when they came to the driveway. They could have simply got the truck and hooked on, towing the car back to the garage. But, that wasn't the point. Her dad wanted to spend time with them. For once, he was smiling, joking, and teasing with them. Instead of hiding out or going through the motions, he was at long last, acting like a dad. And while she had her doubts about the whole thing, she was willing to run with it.

Hunter, Tristen, and Daniel studied the engine. Marianne was content to sit on a stool and watch. "Tomorrow we'll go into town and pick up the parts. Looks like we're going to be replacing the fuel pump," Hunter said as he closed the hood.

"You're helping me?" Tristen asked.

"If that's ok," Hunter said with hesitation.

"Yeah Dad, it's ok." Tristen grinned. "More than ok." He wanted to hate his father. But, he couldn't. He wanted to hold onto the grudge that had fueled him for so long. He wouldn't get his hopes up just yet. But, as long as his dad was willing to try, so was he.

Daniel pretended to be engrossed in his music. But, he heard every word. He didn't know what to think about his absentee father's turn. He didn't trust him. Memories of his father in a happier place and time were all he had left to hang on to. That, and the crushing disappointment of when his dad went away, mentally, and never came back. Leaving a younger Daniel alone to fend for himself.

"You guys hungry?" Hunter asked. His kids didn't trust him. He sensed their hesitation and felt their wary eyes on him. He couldn't say as if he blamed them. For all his shortcomings, they still loved him. Winning them back was going to take a lot of hard work and patience.

Marianne hopped off the stool. "Yeah." She wound her fingers through her dad's hand.

"Sure." Tristen washed a layer of grime off his hands and turned to join his dad.

Daniel shrugged, sauntering to the main house. Keeping a casual distance from his dad as he lagged behind.

Claire toyed with her spinach salad wondering exactly what was on Thomas's mind. He ate with vigor and enthusiasm. Keeping his mouthful. Making her wait. "So, this is a nice place isn't it?" Claire looked around. The windows were wide and open with a row of burgundy half curtains in their centers. The floors were original to the building, a deep, dark hardwood, glimmering with a fresh coat of sealer. Soft music, not elevator music, but not country twang like at the One Shot, played in the background. Chotchkies were scattered around, adding interesting points of interest to the ambiance. "How do you think they got that old tuba to hang on the wall?" She asked pointing to the dinted, dull brass instrument suspended high above their table.

"Just as long as it doesn't fall and give someone a concussion. I'm ok with it," Thomas said. Gulping down a long drink of tea, he looked around. He hadn't exactly noticed the décor. The place was decked out with odds and ends intended to give it a flair of interest. The food wasn't half bad. But, he could have been eating cardboard in the middle of the Sahara for all he cared. "Claire, I wanted to talk to you."

Claire hid her relief. Finally he was getting to the point. "Ok. Talk." She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Prepared to take the defense. She wanted the discussion over and done with. Hear what he had to say. She kept her arms rested on the table. Hoping she was taking what he would consider an open and relaxed posture.

"I know you're getting married in a couple of days. You know, you don't have to right?"

"I know. I'm getting married because I want to."

Thomas's mouth went dry. "Oh. You know I'm here for you. No matter what."

"I know and I appreciate that."

Thomas shot her a thin smile. "You know I'm your friend and I care about you."

"Yes. I care about you too. Will you get to the point?"

"I don't want you to marry him." Thomas scooted closer to the edge of the table and leaned in. "He's not human."

"He's human enough."

"Claire," Thomas said, looking around suspiciously to make sure there was no one in hearing range of their conversation. "There's something strange about his DNA."

"Of course there is. He's a werewolf. What did you expect?" Claire frowned. Realizing what Thomas was doing. "Have you been studying them? The Pack?"

"As much as I can. I checked his blood. Claire, he doesn't have a blood type. I'm not sure what that means. And what about your pregnancy? Don't you think it's a little unusual that you should be delivering a full term baby when you should only be about two months along?"

"I see. Have you been studying me too? Am I part of some research project or are you just gathering data?" Claire leaned closer to Thomas. "If you think I'm going to let you put Grant or his family, or this baby in danger, you're wrong. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. If I have to, I'll tell the Pack about what you're doing. You know, they'll stop you."

"Claire, that's not what I'm saying. Of course, as a medical professional, I have to admit that I'm curious about them and your baby. But, I'm not planning to tell anyone. I wouldn't. I would never do anything to hurt you or the baby."

Claire eased back into her seat. "Thomas, I know I've hurt you. I know I've pushed the boundaries of friendship just a little too far. I don't like what I've done to you. But, what choice have I had? Who else could I have turned to?"