Dawn Redeemed

Nash returned Erica's smile and headed down the steps toward her. "How are you doing, Erica?" He raised a curious brow as Torr walked around the truck to stand at her side. "Torr, good to see you again," he said, extending his hand in greeting. "Have time for coffee before you start your day?"

Erica looked up questioningly at Torr. She couldn't speak for him. He was busily remodeling a house and the extra errand of having to run Fallon to Nash's and take her to her car might throw him off schedule. As for her job search, she'd been everywhere in town. A few minutes one way or the other wouldn't make any difference to her. Unemployed at nine in the morning was the same as being unemployed at nine fifteen in the morning. "Torr?"

"Sure, I've got time if Erica does."

"Great, well, its settled then. Come on inside," Nash said.

Chapter 34

The dining room was a din of activity as breakfast dishes were busily swept away to be washed in time for the lunch crowd. "Maybe we'd be more comfortable in the den," Nash said as he ushered Torr and Erica down a long, dim hallway. He waited till everyone was seated and coffee served from the carafe that sat always ready on the edge of his desk. He didn't want this meeting to seem too official. So, he bypassed the big leather chair behind the desk to take a seat in the wingback chair across from Torr and Erica.

Erica eyed the mound of paperwork on the desk from her seat and glanced at the rugged man, who looked like he should be out chopping wood and hunting a deer rather than being trapped behind the gleaming mahogany desk littered with papers. The study reflected the man to whom it belonged. The walls were painted an intense shade of hunter green and decorated with a collage of photographs and snapshots. Some were recent and some, old tin plates of people and places long past. A natural stone fireplace dominated the wall in front of her and even more pictures were lined up across every inch of the mantle. This was a man who was proud of his family and its long history.

The seating was arranged to give warmth to the space. Three wingback chairs and a leather loveseat upholstered in a rich toned dark leather made up the grouping. Between the seats was a round coffee table that matched the desk right down to the claw footed legs and polished mahogany wood.

The rug underneath her feet, woven in bright Native American earthy tones, added a touch of color to the room. The dense curtains had been thrown wide and the windows cracked to let in a bit of cool springtime air. The view of the woods on the other side of the panes was impressive and the wildness of lent itself to this daunting room. Erica tried and simply came up short in terms of imagining Nash stuck indoors all day. "This is where you come to relax?"

Nash sipped his coffee and chuckled. Relaxing was the last thing he did in this room. Eloise called his study a war room. A place to wheel and deal, and to handle pack business. Everything in here was positioned to put a person at ease while at the same time, letting anyone who entered know exactly who was boss. The tiny room adjacent to his study contained wall to wall filing cabinets and boxes stacked from floor to ceiling of records he hadn't gotten around to organizing yet. Computers and the like, the young cried. They simply wanted him to scan the entire pack's history into a data bank and shred the ties to the past. Nash couldn't do it. He'd signed his signature a million times on various forms. His father had signed them before him. And his father's father before him, back and back, and back to the very first pack master. To him, there was nothing like holding a living document, even if it was a deposit slip signed by an ancestor, in your hands.

"I wouldn't call it relaxing. I hate paperwork, balancing books, playing with numbers, but someone's got to do it. If only I had a clone to handle the day to day operations of keeping a house of this size in good financial order so I could have more time to relax."

"I happen to know a good accountant who is looking for a job," Torr said. He had no idea why Nash had called them into his study. He suspected it had something to do with Fallon. Nash was insightful and had an uncanny knack for spotting raw talent long before it manifested. Nash was a man with one eye on the future and he groomed members of the pack for their part in it. His granddaughter, Mouse, had a terrible part to play. Yet, Nash spent his time investing in her, preparing her for the day when she'd battle him to the death for her turn behind the desk he currently occupied.

"Torr," Erica hissed as she kicked his shin with the toe of her sandal. Her face felt as hot as the coffee in her mug. The last thing she needed was Torr's help or Nash's pity to land a job. Eventually, she'd find one on her own. Eventually.

"Is that so? You're an accountant?" Nash asked. He knew exactly who Erica Gray was. The vampires were very efficient with filling in any missing blanks he hadn't managed to piece together. He wasn't necessarily looking to fill a vacant position, as there wasn't one. But, he saw opportunity and took it when he could. He'd wanted to discuss Fallon with her mother. And being the wily old wolf that he was, saw a way to get what he wanted out of Erica and keep the little girl close to the pack she'd one day so desperately need.

"Yes." Erica shrank under Nash's intent gaze. "I'm sure Torr didn't mean to put either one of us on the spot like that. I haven't lucked into finding a job since I've moved back here. I'm sure something will turn up."

"No, really. I could use the help. No pressure, but if you're interested. You could start tomorrow. I could pay you a good wage with benefits."

"Ah, don't you want to see my resume and check references?" Erica stuttered.

"Not necessary, your and Torr's word is good enough for me. In fact, I could throw in a benefit that most other employers couldn't. You could bring Fallon to work with you everyday. Let her continue going to school here with the other kids. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway. I think I've figured out why Fallon is struggling so much in public school. She's a bright girl, well ahead of her age group. Public school is too boring for her. She's not properly challenged."

The offer sounded too good to be true, and as far as Erica was concerned, that meant there was probably some kind of a catch. She watched Nash's chest rise as he took a breath to speak. Yup, here it comes.

"Everything you see in the books would have to be held under strictest confidentiality. You understand that."

"That's the law. You're not doing anything beyond the law are you, Nash?" Of course, he was part of the mafia. That explained his demand for secrecy. The fact that the kids were home schooled. And the whole family as in the WHOLE family lived under one roof. Naturally, she'd finally found the perfect job, Mafia Moll. Great, just great.

Nash chuckled. "You think we're part of the mob, don't you? I can assure you its nothing quite so glamorous or quite so illegal. Our money has legal origins and is used for legal purposes. Its just that... my forefathers managed their resources quite well. Land, stocks, overseas holdings, and there's quite a bit of money. More than I'd want the townspeople to know about. People talk and I'd rather avoid their speculation."

"Naturally," Erica blushed. Couldn't someone simply just be rich without having illegal connections? She felt embarrassed for her assumptions that Nash was the Don Corleone of Moore County. "As long as you aren't breaking any laws. I am bound to keep your resources no matter how big, top secret. Your money isn't anyone's business but yours and the IRS's every April fifteenth."

"So, you'll take the job?"

"This is all so sudden. I need some time to think it over," Erica stuttered. "I just can't pull Fallon out of school on a moment's notice."

"Actually, you can. I can provide you with a copy of our class schedules for you to hand over to the school board. I assure you we are well ahead of the public schools and Fallon will be getting the best education possible. At least think it over. Talk to Fallon and see what she wants. Take the job and if you find something better, quit. No harm, no foul. Any help I get for the interim is better than what I've got now. What have you got to lose Erica? If you're not happy you can quit and re-enroll Fallon in public school."

"Ok, I'll talk with Fallon and give your offer some serious thought. I really didn't expect to come here today looking for a job," Erica said as she stood and smoothed the creases out of her linen Capri pants.

"Nor I to offer one. Sometimes we can't predict exactly how our day will go or what it has in store for us can we?" Nash followed suit and stood, extending a hand to Erica and then to Torr. "I'll see you out."

Erica walked silently beside Torr to the truck and took his hand, climbing into the passenger seat. She waited till he pulled out of the drive before she spoke. "That was weird wasn't it?"

"Erica, I know Nash. I have known Eloise all my life. They're good people. I think you should give his offer serious consideration. I really do."

"I said I would and I will." Erica stared out the window at the trees rushing past. The terms of her employment as Nash had outlined them were quite generous. Somehow she'd always managed to scrape up the tuition for Fallon to attend private school. She knew public school would be a hard adjustment for her daughter to make. Nash was right. Fallon would probably thrive from the attention she'd receive. They hadn't discussed salary or other benefits, but Erica guessed, Nash would be equally benevolent in that department as well. She didn't want to give Torr an answer without thoroughly thinking things through. "I need to get my car."

Torr opened his mouth and then shut it. He didn't know if he was pushing too hard or if she was shutting him out on purpose. Of course, he knew what he wanted for Erica and Fallon. He wanted them both as close to the pack and to him as he could get them. He drove in silence and pulled up to the curb behind her car. "Did you have plans for the day?"

"Other than avoiding the house till my aunt and uncle make up? Not really," Erica answered. She so did not want to walk in on a steamy bout of make up sex or into one of her cousin's feeding sessions. She was going to hide in some quiet corner of the town's park and read the tattered novel in her purse while she waited for time to pass.

"You want to spend the day together? I finished grouting the bathroom tile last night. We could sit around and watch the grout dry," Torr said jokingly. He was sure that he could come up with something for them to do on a bright, beautiful sunny day.

"Hmm, spend the day with you watching grout dry or spend the day on a park bench reading a paperback while I avoid contemplating my life. That's a tough decision." Erica grinned. "Ok, we can hang out and watch the grout dry. The book I brought to read isn't really that interesting and unfortunately, neither is my life."

"Great. Grout it is," Torr said as he put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb.



Chapter 35

"We didn't mean to wake you," Carter said softly. He finished closing the last snap R.J's onsie and carefully lifted him from his crib. R.J's tiny warm body felt awkward in his hands, squirming, and full of life. "I changed his diaper," Carter announced proudly. R.J. whimpered lightly and stared up at him with big round dark eyes. Carter tried not to think about how dependent the life in his arms was and how easily that life could be snuffed out of existence. The world was full of darkness and it could creep into and destroy the most bright of places in an instant. R.J. continued to wiggle and kick his feet in discontent. "I think he wants you."

Shayla yawned and stretched as she sat up against the pillows. Her body was sore and stiff in the most wonderful of places from making love to the man holding her son till the wee hours of the morning. She was tired, but she didn't regret one second she and Carter spent in each other's arms. Sleep was overrated anyway. "Probably, he's always hungry." She smiled up at Carter as he lowered the bundle into her arms. Carter was so strong, capable of such raw, destructive power. Yet, he handled her son with careful, patient hands. As if he'd break him by accident.

Shayla ran her nose along R.J's fuzzy black hair and inhaled. He still had that newborn baby scent, sweet and full of life yet to be lived. She shimmied her gown down around her shoulders, exposing her breast, full and swollen with milk. Thankfully, R.J. needed little coaxing to latch on and begin suckling. Carter lounged against the wall with his arms folded across his wide chest watching them with tenderness in his eyes. "You can sit on the bed with us if you want," she said.

Carter blew out a breath. Watching Shayla caring for her son stirred feelings that he hadn't experienced for countless lifetimes. But, she brought them back to life. She resurrected a part of him that he wasn't sure was worth bringing back from the dead. He'd always assumed any part of him that could feel had died long ago along with the few remaining flickers of his humanity. He'd always distanced himself and kept out of the line of fire where emotions were concerned. That ability was the only thing, he was sure, that had kept him alive for so long. Feelings and emotions caused hesitancy at the crucial moment. Hesitancy meant weakness and weakness might get him killed.

"You two don't belong down here," Carter said with a well practiced chill to his voice. "You belong with the living not trapped, buried underground with the dead."

Shayla stared up at Carter. Emotions he wasn't comfortable with confronting brewed like an oncoming storm in his mind. He hated that he loved her and her son. She saw it on the expression on his face. He didn't feel that he deserved either one of them. As much as he wanted and needed them. He was terrified to have them in his life. "Carter, when are you going to open up to me? I hate that you won't tell me what happened to make you so afraid of living. You can't shut me out forever."

Carter pushed his bulk off the wall and crossed the room, reaching out to cup Shayla's cheek in the palm of his hand. "Protecting you is my job," he said. Her skin was soft and sleek against the roughness of his fingers. "Even if that means protecting you from me. What would you think of me if you knew the ugly truth that made me this thing that I am? Do you really have the strength to look me in the eye once you've heard my story? Would your eyes, that look at me with love now, look at me so afterward? I don't think they would." Gently, he lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "Know this, I'd die to keep you safe. I'd destroy myself before I let these eyes look at me with horror and fear that I truly deserve."

Shayla slid her chin free from his grip and willingly stared up into his eyes. "Carter, it's my job to protect myself, not yours. I love you and nothing you could say would frighten me so badly as to change that. I will never fear the truth."

Carter moved across the bedroom and rested his forehead on the smooth cool surface of the oak door. "If I were you, I would," he said, turning the doorknob in his fingers. Shayla wanted the truth, and he couldn't protect her from it, not forever. He knew that one day, the truth, the thing that haunted his dreams, would come for him and if she were anywhere near him, he'd pull her down with him. He swallowed hard and clinched his jaw tightly. "Life is a precious and fragile thing, Shayla. Never take it for granted," he said as he opened the door and walked into the hallway. The door closed behind him with a hollow, empty slam that echoed off the stone walls, breaking the cold stillness of the subterranean world to which he was condemned and Shayla was trapped.

The south Texas breeze was warm and welcoming on Ruby's cheeks, gently tossing the ends of her hair to and fro with its invisible fingers. The sandy barren landscape was a welcome sight to her weary eyes. She navigated her vehicle along the narrow roads, carefully trying to avoid the crater sized potholes that pitted the long neglected pavement. Earth toned roofs lined up in neat rows came into view on the horizon. Thin scraggly patches of evergreen and scrub haphazardly dotted the rocky flat landscape that stretched for miles. Finally, she thought, sighing a breath of relief, she was home.

Gingerly, she pressed on the brake as she pulled into the complex expecting to stop to open the gate that had held her separated by the world for most of her life. She thought there'd be guards to answer to or someone to notice her arrival. Instead, she inched along the road, nothing but the sound of her engine idling forward to welcome her. This place was once bustling with activity and hopes and dreams. Now it was virtually a ghost town of neat order in the wake of the chaos of those last days.

She saw signs of life, tidy yards, well tended flower beds. People, like her who were trying to put the shattered remains of their lives back together again. She drove down the narrow lanes lined with houses. Some were occupied, but most were empty abandoned shells. She could close her eyes and drive these streets. They were that familiar to her.

Ruby expected to see some evidence, like charred skeletal fingers sticking up out of a scorched ground, of the dark days left behind. She saw nothing to mark the suffering Seff inflicted on her people. Nothing left as a monument to those who had suffered the most at his hands.

The remains of the platforms of death and the burned out Grand Manor had been cleared away and the chaos put back to order. Scorched brick and mortar had been hauled off into forgotten piles. Flowers and trees had been planted on the barren plots of earth left behind. The pack had come so close to extinction. Seff had almost managed to wipe them out as if they'd never been at all. Maybe, in the end, that's why so many of the pack left. Maybe that's why she'd agree to abandon her home and go with Hanning in the first place. She needed to forget and feel safe again.

Ruby turned the corner and gave her car some gas as she coasted along the familiar streets to her and rolled to a gentle stop in front of a one story brick box with a brown roof. Her curtains were still in the windows. The flower beds she'd tended with such care were blooming with an array of color and life. As if while she'd been gone, nothing dared to defy her will and fall into a state of disrepair. She slid the gear into park and sat behind the wheel, saddened by the emptiness around her, but excited by the chance to get to fill the silence with life and turn the brick house back into the home it had once been. Evan and she had been so happy here, not so long ago and they would be again. She'd make sure of it.

Hanning sat across the breakfast table watching his son slurp mouthfuls of cereal out of his spoon. A torrent of milk dribbled off his son's chin and back into the bowl. He absently lifted a steaming mug of coffee to his lips and ignored the plate of bacon and eggs that someone had dutifully sat in front of him as he thought of something to say to Evan that would make everything better again. He didn't have the magic words to fix what was broken. His wife had abandoned them both. What could he possibly say to make that better again? He got it, Ruby didn't love him. She didn't want him. At this point, he didn't want her either. They were even. But, what about their son? He'd done nothing wrong. Why did she have to punish him too?

"Can I be excused?" Evan pushed the half eaten bowl of cereal across the table and climbed down from his chair. Scowling in worry, he rested the point of his chin against the vinyl tablecloth and studied his dad. His dad stared absently back, not really seeing him through the thick haze of shattered hopes and dreams. "Dad, we ok?"