Dawn Redeemed

Carter spun on his heel and stared down at Shayla. He was a dangerous killer and the fact that such a tiny woman could take his breath away with a glance or stop him in his tracks with a mere utterance from her lips never ceased to amaze him. Her jaw was set hard and her eyes darkened with determination as she looked up at him. She'd never fear him. Even when he was at his worst. She hadn't been afraid. Maybe she did see something in him that he did not. Some secret part that he'd hidden from for so long that he'd forgotten that it even existed at all.

Doubts were already beginning to take the place of the decision he thought he'd finalized in his mind. What was he doing? Less than an hour ago, he was determined to fight to win her back. Now that damnable nagging voice rambled in the back of his mind. It would be for the best, for both of them, if he let her go. "What?" he said, pulling his shirt tail out of her fingers with a hard jerk.

"I want to talk to you," Shayla said. Glancing over her shoulder at the women to make sure her son was well taken care of, she returned her attention to Carter. R.J. seemed to be tolerating the women with impartial, casual indifference. He'd spit up on anybody, didn't matter to him. Shayla pushed Carter a little farther into the hallway. Close enough to hear R.J. cry, but far enough way so that their conversation wouldn't attract any undue attention. "You're going to listen to me," she said, pinning him to the hard concrete block wall with her body weight.

Carter could have dismissed her as easily as flicking away a pesky fly. Instead he stayed pinned beneath the warmth of her body and the pressure of her hip grinding against his pelvis. Damn hard to have an intense conversation let alone an intelligent one when she was making him hard enough to drill through the center of the earth. But he was going to try to make it work. "You've got my full attention," Carter said throwing his hands up in surrender instead of gripping them to her waist and pulling her closer against him like he wanted to.

"Good." Shayla sank onto her heels and self-consciously backed away from Carter's hardening groin. She wrapped her fists around the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her. "I love you. I don't care about what you did. If it's a problem, it's only a problem for you. Do you hear me? I. Do. Not. Care. I lost one man that I loved more than life itself to the future. I won't lose you to the past. I'm in love with who you are. Not who you were a dozen lifetimes ago. Not who you will be a dozen lifetimes from now. I love you, here and now. Do you get that?"

"Yes," Carter answered. Reflexively, his hands reached around her waist and pulled her up tightly against the length of his body. He wished he could offer her more than the moment. But, he was not into making plans that might never come to pass. Too many times, he'd seen planned futures ripped to shreds. All he had was the shadow of who he'd been centuries ago and the man that he was as a result of him. Yet, she loved him anyway.

"Then kiss me," Shayla said tilting her chin up to meet his lips. Carter's mouth was on hers in an instant working her lips hungrily. She opened for him and slicked her tongue across his. His taste was wild and pure male against her taste buds. He wanted her with the same needy desire that she wanted him. His fangs scraped along the tip of her tongue and nicked her bottom lip. She felt Carter tense against the flavor of her blood invading his mouth. His tongue caressed the tiny wound like a lover's touch. She didn't need any further confirmation from him other than his kiss. No words could convey what the friction between their co-joined lips communicated. His embrace told her everything she needed to know and offered everything she'd ever wanted.

"Shayla..." The sweet earthy taste of her blood rolled across his tongue teasing his senses. She was so much more than food. He struggled with his instincts to sink his aching fangs into her flesh. Aroused and hungry, control was not an easily won battle. This was exactly why he hated the thing he was. He warred between pulling her closer and pushing her away. He wanted so much more for her and for himself than the baseless demon that prowled beneath his flesh. His fingers wound tightly through her belt loops and closed into fists. He would not succumb to his need for more of her blood. He was not an animal.

"Carter...shh..." Shayla pressed a finger softly to his lips. His fangs protruded from under his upper lip in two tiny, sharp points. "Don't use this as an excuse to run. Don't let this come between us. I accept you for who you are. If I love you the way I say I do, what choice do I have? I'm not afraid."

"Your wolf doesn't drink the blood of its victims," Carter shuddered.

"No, it rips its prey apart with tooth and claw and consumes the raw flesh till there's nothing left. Your victims can walk away, if you choose. Mine do not. I could tear your throat out before you could blink. Make no mistake about that. You don't corner the dangerous market. I'm right there with you. I'm not afraid of you. There's no need for you to be afraid of yourself. You should be frightened, if anything, of me."

"The only thing I fear is the life I have to offer you. That I'll drag you down with me. You deserve so much more than the shell of a man that stands before you. Someday, you'll realize that. I dread the day when you finally figure out that I'm not good enough for you."

"Carter, does anyone ever feel truly worthy of another's love?" Shayla cupped his face in her palms and felt the smoothness of his cheeks against her fingers. "Opening a vein for you is a small consequence for a lifetime of love. Try, Carter, please try. Give us the chance we deserve. "

Carter closed his eyes and nestled Shayla's palm with his cheek. Hunger stirred, fueled by the scent of her blood and the bounding whoosh of its circulating heat pounding against his skin. "For you, I will try." Sheer force of will retracted his fangs.

"That's all I can ask," Shayla mouthed against his lips. Gently, slowly, she pressed their lips together, sealing his promise and hers with a cherished, chaste, kiss.



Chapter 40

Wearily, Ruby dropped to the couch. After driving all night and spending the day cleaning, she had no energy left. At least, her house was back in order again and looking much more like the home she'd left instead of the dust infested hovel she'd returned to. The gleaming white floor tiles and immaculate kitchen reinforced her conviction that she was doing the right thing for her son, her nephew, and for herself.

All of Hanning's left behind possessions. Which didn't amount to much more than a few crumpled t-shirts she'd found in the back of the closet and some scattered mementos sat in a box near the front door. He'd already made his position on the matter of moving back abundantly clear. Not wanting to tote them around in her car while she tried to build a case to take custody of her son and nephew, she planned to ship them to him in the morning. She didn't need his things laying around, taking up space, and creating a clutter. She saw no reason to keep them. He wasn't coming back.

Through the back door glass, across the neat and tidy backyards separated by a chain link fence, she could see the empty remains of Shayla and Ramon's house. How many years had she stood at that kitchen window staring at the yellow lights shining in their windows, wishing she were with him instead. With him was where she belonged. If only, the lie she'd told Hanning about Evan were true and he really was Ramon's son. After they were forced to break it off and she agreed to marry Hanning, Ramon had not so much as laid a finger on her, not even in friendship.

Shayla would never willingly hand over R.J. Shayla was in too deep with her vampire lover to see the truth for herself. Vampires were dangerous and untrustworthy. Shayla was taking too great a risk with her son. R.J. deserved better for a mother than her sister. Getting him away from Shayla was going to be tricky. Ruby knew she'd resort to any level necessary to take R.J. away. She loved Ramon enough to see to it that his son was brought up right. Ruby doubted that Shayla would see her motives for what they were, a selfless act of sacrifice.

If things had been different, none of them would have been in this mess in the first place. If her genetic code had been a perfect match for Ramon's. Ramon would still be alive. Evan would have truly been his son and she would have been his loving wife. Maybe, Shayla would have married Hanning and been able to give him the love that he deserved. Things would have turned out perfectly for all of them, if their lives had been left to love instead of a damned strip of DNA.

Ruby flipped her cell phone over and over in her fingers. She should call Evan and tell him good night. She did love her son. No matter what happened between his father and her. She loved Evan with all her heart and soul. She didn't know exactly what to say to him. What words would make him understand how much she loved him. So much so that she was willing to separate him from his father and every one he knew and raise him as a single parent.

Tonight, the wounds were too raw. She couldn't talk to him. She couldn't bear to hear the hurt in his young voice. Tomorrow or the next day, she'd call. By then, the situation would have calmed down enough and she'd have time to think of something to say to make it better for them both. Regret stabbed at her heart as she dropped her phone onto the coffee table. He was so young, right now he didn't have the capacity to understand the sacrifices she'd made for him. But someday, he would.

Hanning scrubbed his hand across his stubble lined jaw and stared down at his son. How could he forget to feed Evan lunch? The day seemed to pass as nothing more than one brief, hazy blur, and before he knew it, the sky was beginning to turn the dazzling golden-orange of early evening. Luckily, Evan had enough sense to rummage through the cabinets and find something to eat. Otherwise he'd starve to death if he had to rely on his old man for a meal. "I'm sorry, Buddy. I forgot about lunch."

Evan looked up from the bag of carrot sticks he'd found in the fridge and grinned. He was stuffed. People had been slipping him cookies, candy, and handfuls of potato chips all day. In the fridge there was enough food to feed a small army. Supper was almost on the table and he'd been wanting something to snack on before the main meal. "S'ok. See, I found something. Want one?" He asked, fishing around in the half eaten bag for the best carrot in the bunch to give his dad.

Hanning riffled Evan's hair and forced a thin, watery, smile across his lips. The truth was that the thought of food nauseated him. He had been checking his phone all day. Sitting on the thing like a hen sat on an egg while she waited for it to hatch. Not so much as a random text from Ruby, not one letter, not one word. His phone had not beeped, vibrated, or shown any other sign of life all day. How could she not call to check on their son? She was a bitch. That was the how of it. She didn't care about him and that was no biggie. But, not calling to talk to Evan, that was a biggie. He wouldn't mention it to his son, unless Evan directly asked about it. Evan had a way of knowing things long before anyone else did. Maybe his son was holding up better than he was because unlike him, he'd seen it coming.

Ultimately, it didn't matter what kind of paranormal abilities their son had. Ruby had not called in almost twenty-four hours. So be it. Every day that she didn't call gave him more ammunition to use against her when she returned and tried to take Evan away from him. If he had his way, Ruby wouldn't be able to take their son across the street let alone across the country. Of course, who was he to talk, he couldn't even remember to feed Evan on a regular basis. At least, he had the balls to stick around. That was certainly more than she'd done.

"Dad?" Evan didn't like the angry set of his dad's jaw or the way he stood with a rigid, stiff posture. When he did that, he was thinking unpleasant, unhappy thoughts. And they were probably about Mom. He really didn't like his dad thinking bad things about his mom. He didn't understand exactly what had happened between his parents. He only knew that it wasn't a good thing. His mom was over a thousand miles away and his dad might as well be too. He was beginning to feel like the both of them had abandoned him and he was totally and utterly alone in the world.

"What is it, Buddy?" Hanning answered, drawn out of his thoughts.

"Dad? Carrot?" Evan asked, extending a carrot up to his dad in his fist.

"No thanks, Buddy. You eat them." Hanning stared down at his son at a total loss for something to say. He felt that his son needed him to say something deeply meaningful, but he had no idea as to what. He simply didn't know how to see past the depth of his rage and pull himself out of the black pit of anger and self pity that threatened to swallow him alive. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the blank display. Flipping the phone open, he thumbed through the address book and selected a number. His thumb hovered over the keys, debating, pausing. "Why don't you go watch cartoons for a while."

"Sure dad," Evan answered with a shrug.

Hanning watched his son race across the kitchen floor as fast as his little legs would carry him. He wasn't sure if Evan made a run for it because his favorite cartoon was on or just to get away from him. Hanning was certain that he didn't make good company for a six year-old. Taking a deep breath, he hit the send key and waited.

Fallon put the final touches on the leather necklace she'd made for Torr. She couldn't believe it. Her mom finally had a boyfriend, and Fallon was going to do everything that she could to make sure her mom and he continued dating. She'd never seen her mom so happy before. "Do you think he'll like it?" She asked Marianne, holding the tightly woven straps of leather up for her peer's inspection.

Marianne ran her fingers over the intricate braid work and nodded cheerfully. "I think it needs a charm though." She dug through the craft box with an index finger until she found what she was looking for. Carefully she pinned the silver figurine between her index finger and thumb and pulled it out of the box.

"That's pretty," Fallon said, running a finger over the silver wolf. "You don't think its too girly for a guy?"

"No. I think it's perfect for a guy. See how big it is. The figurine is really too big to be considered a women's charm. It's made for a guy."

"Oh," Fallon said as Marianne helped her slide the charm down the leather strands

and tie them securely in place with a few carefully placed knots. The silver charm really did look good, bright and shiny, glittery against the dark reddish-brown color of the leather and the multicolored beads.

"Fallon, do you like going to school here with us?" Marianne asked. Today was Fallon's second day of classes. In one more day, Fallon would have to return to public school and she'd lose her new friend. Her grandfather said Fallon was special. And Marianne tended to agree. Fallon was a couple of years younger, but in some ways behaved as if she were a few years older, almost a teenager just like her. Fallon was smart and for the first time in her life, Marianne had some serious academic competition. Fallon was pretty too. She didn't have the pack's trademark dark hair and brown eyes. And the boys that used to pester her flocked to Fallon. Marianne wasn't so upset about that though. The boys her age were too immature and Fallon was a pleasant distraction for them. If she were to believe Evan, destiny had already chosen her mate anyway. But, she really couldn't imagine at this stage of the game, marrying Evan.

"Do I ever!" Fallon answered enthusiastically. "I've learned so much. I never knew the world was, well, so big and that all that bigness was nothing but a bunch of itty bitty pieces all crammed together. I wish I could go to school here forever." Fallon crossed her arms in a pout and poked out her bottom lip in a pout. "I hate public school."

Mouse was great! Fallon had already forgotten about her best friends in Washington and stuck to Mouse like glue. Mouse was a little older and wiser about the world, especially the world of boys which Fallon knew little about. They wore the same size clothes and had already spent every spare minute of free time ransacking Mouse's closet and trying out different looks.

Her mom would kill her if she knew Mouse had painted her lips with lipstick and highlighted her eyes with mascara. Her mom forbid makeup and perfume. Said her little girl was too young for those kinds of things. At the age of almost eleven she'd finally gotten her mom to cave and buy training bras she'd someday very soon finish filling out. Fallon had been quick to wash the makeup off before the clock hit four thirty and had put her old clothes back on before her mom came to pick her up for the evening.

"I wish you could go to school here all the time too." Marianne spun the silver wolf on its leather chain and watched the random pattern of sunlight sparkle off its surface. Maybe, there was something she could do to help Fallon out. Someone who might be able to talk Fallon's mother into letting her stay.

Chapter 41

Torr nervously gripped the steering wheel and guided the truck to the side of the road. He didn't think that he'd be so anxious come zero hour. "How are we going to do this?" A clear plan was necessary before he pulled back out onto the gravel and turned down the narrow winding lane. Once they had Fallon with them. There'd be no more time to talk about how to tell her or what to say. He wanted to know ahead of time so that he could practice scenarios in his head before he had to say the words.

Erica grinned at Torr and rested her fingers on his clenched fist. "Will you relax. Everything is going to be fine. She's just a little girl, Torr. She won't bite."

"What if she doesn't like me?" Torr gritted. Stray brambles rustled in the breeze, scratching the side of his truck to hell, but he didn't care. He was too nervous to care about anything but Fallon and her reaction to him. What if she'd spent her childhood thus far fantasizing about who her father was, what he was like, and what if he fell short of her fantasy dad? What if she rejected the news? What if she rejected him?

"Torr, she already knows you. And she likes you," Erica shook her head and grabbed a Kleenex. Gently, she dabbed at the fine beads of sweat popping out on Torr's forehead. "Just be yourself."

"Easy for you to say. Think about it from her point of view. She already thinks I'm trying to scam on her mom and now I'm going to tell her that I'm her dad? She'll hate me."

"Scam on her mom?" Erica chuckled and crumpled the damp Kleenex in her hand. "I've never heard it put quite that way before. You make me sound like a shady bank deal or a used appliance. Scam?"

"Erica, you're not helping. You know what I mean. We're sort of dating. Maybe..." Torr's stomach reeled in his abdomen and his heart pounded in his throat. He was so close to having everything he'd ever wanted. He thumped his forehead against the steering wheel and groaned. "I really am making a mess of things aren't I?"

"Not yet. Ok, so forget about us for now. I'm not sure what we are just yet." Heat flooded Erica's cheeks. She hadn't really thought about them in a dating kind of way. Was he asking her to or was he just assuming that they were? "Focus on Fallon. She's your daughter. You're her dad. How do you want this to go?"

"Perfectly. I want her to smile and leap into my arms. Somehow make up for the years I've missed. I want her forgiveness and more importantly her love. I want to be the father that I never had." Torr lifted his head and looked at Erica. "I'm just not sure how."