Dawn Redeemed

"You assumed correctly. Nash gave it to me. I had a headache earlier today and he swears by the stuff." Erica smoothed her skirt and sat across the table from Torr. He held the steeper by the chain with his long fingers over the mug until the silver ball stopped dripping.

"Ah, Shaman's tea." he sniffed at the mix of leaves and roots tentatively. "My father used to make me drink the stuff." He shuddered and slid the cup across the table to Erica. "Every Shaman has his own mix. Sometimes, different mixes for different people. My Shaman must have hated me. The stuff was awful. I think I'll just have some ordinary Lipton's tea, if that's ok with you."

"Sure," Erica shrugged. She lifted the mug to her nose and took a deep draught in through her nostrils. Gasping at the pungent smell. "Maybe I'll join you. This stuff smells awful."

Torr chuckled and pulled down an extra mug from the cabinet. "Wait till you taste it." He dropped two tea bags in the mugs and filled them to the top with water from the steaming kettle.

"Ooh," Erica hurriedly gulped down the bitter mix. Underneath the bitterness was a hint of sassafras and mint, but not enough to keep the taste from turning her stomach. "Wow. That's really, really bad."

Torr slid the mug out of Erica's hands and replaced it with the freshly seeped tea she was undoubtedly more accustomed to. He'd added a couple of extra spoonfuls of sugar to her tea to help rinse away the bitter taste. "If you can choke it down it really does work. I've seen the stuff do miracles. But," he said, setting his mug beside hers. "I've got another patented remedy for headaches." He stood behind her chair and smoothed his hands along her shoulders. Gently, he kneaded the tight muscles along her neck with slow, meticulous movements.

Erica sighed gratefully. Torr's long, skilled fingers worked along the tight muscles in her neck. Slowly the kinks gave way to the gentle pressure of his fingers and the heat from his hands, and her headache eased. "I like this much better than the tea."

Torr leaned in close to the shell of Erica's ear, close enough to toy with the earring with the tip of his tongue and whispered, "So do I."

"I'm really feeling much better," Erica said. She hoped Torr hadn't noticed the embarrassing huskiness in her voice. His touch was the closest thing she'd come to sex in a very long time and her body was definitely giving her a not so gentle reminder of that sad fact. A whimper escaped her throat as his lips gently skated along the sensitive curve of her outer ear.

"I'm glad I was able to help," Torr breathed against her skin. He liked the effect he had on her. The way her fingers curled, she held her breath, her cheeks flushed, and the musky scent of her awareness flared whenever he was near her. She bent her head, exposing the gentle curve of her long neck, a neck perfect for kissing. His hands slid down her shoulders and he leaned in closer, laying a row of gentle pecks along the sensitive flesh. Seduced by the pound of her pulse against his mouth he was braver than he had a right to be.

Erica leaned back against Torr. Her head rested on the warm, soft fabric of his t-shirt and the layer of hard pectorals beneath. Her bare toes curled against the tile on the kitchen floor and her heart pounded as he kissed his way inch by tempting inch down her neck. His hands were hot and heavy on her bare upper arms. Gently, flexing and kneading her skin with his fingers. She forgot her headache and reeled in the sensations that stirred in her body.

His fingers gently coaxed her to slide sideways in the chair. He backed the chair out away from the table and eased her up to her feet. She felt so right in his arms. Her body pressed deliciously against him as she balanced on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck, chin tilted to offer her mouth for a kiss. Torr wasted no time claiming the offering.

Erica felt her pulse quicken in her throat. Torr's lips worked their way from her neck to her mouth and locked on tightly. She leaned against the hard line of his body. Dependent on him to keep her from toppling over. His tongue inched across her lips, gently probing against hers as she opened for him. His kiss was possessive and decisive. There was no doubt in her mind that Torr was a man who knew what he wanted and went for it, body and soul. He rested one hand against the small of her back, using it to press her body tightly against his. His other hand trailed along her collarbone and stroked a path along the row of buttons on her blouse.

Torr felt Erica arch her body against him. Her body was a symphony that only he alone could conduct. He could sense all the way into his bones how badly she wanted him. Her hands fisted the collar of his shirt, drawing him closer. "Tell me what you want," he whispered against her mouth. He already knew, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.

"We're supposed to be responsible adults," Erica replied. The hard bend of his Adam's apple bobbed up and down against her lips as he sucked in a breath of air. She felt the hard press of his erection through her skirt.

"We are responsible adults," Torr answered. "I want this Erica, but not unless you do. I'm content to be close to you and to wait until you decide the time is right." He stroked the delicate ridge of her collarbone with his fingers and followed the trail with a path of kisses and flicks of his tongue. Her skin was salty and delicious against his taste buds. Slowly, he worked his mouth down to the top of her blouse and the gentle rise of her breast below the first button.

"It's hard to think when you're kissing me senseless." Erica wound one hand into the curling mass of dark hair at the nape of his neck and smoothed the fingers of her other hand along the rough scrape of stubble on his jaw. His mouth was warm and soft against her fingertips. Playfully, he nipped at her fingers with his front teeth. His lips curled into a smile at the corners as he watched her with blue eyes shockingly clear and hot with the electric burn of passion.

"I like that," Torr admitted. He opened his lips and flicked the tip of his tongue across the pad of Erica's index finger. She watched him from beneath heavily lidded passion filled eyes.

"That I'm dazed and confused?" Erica croaked. The feel of his tongue and the hot squeeze of his lips on her fingers was enough to melt any reserve she might have had left. His lips were soft, full of erotic promises.

"No, that I'm the one who makes you that way." He claimed the lips that parted in protest and dove his tongue in between them. His fingers wound their way into the thick, lush tangle of her hair and fisted it tightly. Pressing her mouth against his as he continued his assault on her lips. He didn't know what else to do with his hands to keep them busy. They wanted to explore the steep hills of her breasts and travel the curve of her hip on expedition to the lush, soft flesh beneath her skirt. He was still trying, however vainly to prove he was a good and decent, respectable guy. Groping without her permission would not exactly drive his point home. He'd just keep having to try his hardest to convince her to give her consent.

Erica turned her head, breaking the kiss. "Fallon will be home any minute," she whispered in weak protest. She was ready to rip off their clothes and go for it. Probably not the smartest of moves considering they were trying to build a friendship, maybe more. Her hands traveled down his back and gripped at his belt. She fought to keep them firmly in place instead of working their way lower to the bulge in his jeans.

Torr gently wrapped his arms around her and crushed her against his body. "Is it ok if I stick around to say goodnight?" He battled the waves of desire that spread out from anyplace their skin touched. Her hair was fragrant, smelling lightly of lavender. Closing his eyes, he buried his nose and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. "Tell me something."

"Anything." Erica rested her cheek against his chest and felt him gently rock her back and forth in his arms. His hug was warm and comfortable. She slid her arms beneath his, around his waist and hugged him back. This wasn't a hug of desire or filled with sexual tension. This embrace conveyed closeness and genuine affection.

"Are you willing to give us another try?" Gently, he cupped Erica's chin in his palm and tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

Erica saw the urgency of his stare. She saw how badly he wanted this. He wanted her, not just sex or a quick release and run, but her, all of her. Staring into his eyes, she began to realize that she might be feeling exactly the same way. Perhaps it was the past the drew them back together. Perhaps it was the lonely space inside of her that had been empty for far too many years that made her answer the way she did, with honesty and absolute total sincerity. She slid out of his arms and took his hands in hers. "I'd like that. But, no more making out in my aunt's kitchen." She blushed at the smile on his face.

Torr smiled and brought her fingers to his lips. Planting a gentle kiss on each digit. "Deal. I will try to uphold your sense of decorum and save the making out for dark country roads and the balcony seats at the movies." He ducked as she playfully swatted at him. He grabbed her around the middle and dragged her in close, planting a slow, gentle kiss on her mouth. "That didn't count as making out."

Erica leaned her forehead against the warmth of his mouth. His exhale stirred the tiny hairs and sent them tickling against her skin. The pounding of tiny footsteps up the porch stairs and the thump and grinding of the door as it opened sent her skittering out of Torr's arms. Blushing like an embarrassed teenager caught stealing a goodnight kiss at the front door by her father.

"Mom?" Fallon called out into the darkened living room.

"In the kitchen, Fallon." Erica busied herself by pouring Fallon a glass of milk. "Torr's here." She set the milk on the table and slid into her chair, sipping the mug of long gone cold tea.

"Cool." Fallon beat feet down the hallway. "Hi, Dad." She bounced across the kitchen and flopped into the empty chair between her mom and dad. "I had the best time at Marianne's tonight."

"That's great," Erica said. The three of them sitting around the kitchen table sharing stories of the events of the day seemed too normal. After the bizarre day she'd had. The scene was way, way too normal in comparison. "After you finish your milk, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed."

Fallon didn't remind her mom that it wasn't a school night and her weekend bedtime wasn't for another half hour. She'd won one victory today and that was enough. "Ok. Mom, since dad is here, can he tuck me in?" She'd go to bed in broad daylight for the chance to see what it felt like to get snuggled into bed by her dad, just once.

"Sure, if its ok with Torr. I could use a night off from monster patrol." Erica cast Torr a questioning glance. He answered the question with a slight tip of his head.

Fallon gulped down the milk and wiped her upper lip against the back of her hand. She hopped out of the chair and sat her glass in the sink. "Mom...," she gasped in utter horror and embarrassment. She didn't want her dad to think that she was a baby and was afraid of sleeping with the closet door open or without her nightlight.

"Sorry, kid." Erica waited till Fallon was out of earshot. Busily brushing her teeth in the bathroom, before she gave Torr the lowdown on Fallon's bedtime ritual. Everything from reading a chapter from her book to checking under the bed for imaginary tentacle monsters.

"I've got it," Torr said with a chuckle. He pushed himself up from the kitchen table and gave Erica a gentle pat on the head. Fallon was rocking the springs on the bed and making them groan as she impatiently waited for him to tuck her in.

Torr walked into the bedroom and looked around at the hodgepodge of gently and not so gently used décor. The room was comfortable and had that lived in look that came with time. Fallon patted the edge of her covers and held out a thin paperback book to him. "We're on chapter ten."

Erica listened to Torr's deep bass voice as he read to Fallon. She stood at the sink washing the dishes as slowly as she could. This was Torr's time with Fallon and she wanted him and her daughter to get as much of it as they could. The last mug sat, drying on the rack. Quietly as she could muster, she tiptoed to the bedroom door and peeked inside.

Torr finished the chapter and closed the book before Fallon could beg him for another. He had to do this right, perfectly. He could smell Erica and sense her eyes peeking in on him from the doorway. "Ok Fallon. Wish me luck. I've got to check under the bed and in the closet." Torr kept the smile off his face and pursed his lips in a harsh serious line. "There have been reports of green monsters with hundreds of tentacles hiding under little girl's beds and in their closets. Just waiting for the chance to sneak out and snatch you by your ankles and drag you off to the dark, dark woods so that they can eat you. That is of course, unless a bigger monster eats them first, and then the bigger monster will eat you. Unless of course..."

"Dad," Fallon giggled, "I don't really believe in that stuff." She watched as Torr thoroughly checked under the bed and in the closet.

"I'm just trying to make a point. There's always a bigger monster."

Fallon sank into the covers and snuggled down as her dad tucked them around her with firm strokes. "Goodnight, Dad." She said, bending to give him a hug and loosening the covers from around her shoulders. She smiled when Torr gently and patiently tucked them back around her.

"G'night, Fallon." Torr stood from his stooped posture and gave her a big hug. "Night light on or off?"

Fallon thought for a minute and shook her head. "I'm good." She'd be brave because her dad was brave. With him, she felt safe and protected.

Erica frowned, that was the second time someone had made reference to monsters and the woods today. Maybe she didn't know who the monsters were, but maybe Torr did.

Torr came out of Fallon's room and pulled the door to behind him. Erica returned his triumphant smile. "You did good...for your first time." She wasn't about to give him all the credit like he was a master, in one night, of what had taken her years to perfect.

"I'd be happy to tuck you in too," Torr said, flashing a sly smile.

Erica led him to the front door and held it open for him. "I think I can handle any monsters under my bed all by myself."

"Are you sure you don't want me to check, just to be sure?"

Erica tipped up her head to meet Torr's eyes. "I thought you didn't believe in monsters."

"I never said that," he answered lightly with a grin. Torr leaned in for a quick brush of lips. "Lock up behind me."

"Ok."

Torr skidded to a stop and spun on his heel. He wanted to leave her with a little more than a light peck on the lips to think about tonight. His hands locked around Erica's waist and guided her tightly against him. "I can do better than that." He kissed her deeply, mashing her lips against his, probing her mouth with his tongue. When she melted into him, he pulled away. "Now that was a goodnight kiss," he grinned wolfishly.

"Goodnight, Torr." Erica said, as she latched the screen door between them. The metal mesh of the screen was cool against her forehead. The heels of his boots made echoing steps on the weathered wood planks of the front porch. Embarrassment flushed across her cheeks when he looked over his shoulder and shot her a knowing grin.

"G'night Erica," Torr said over his shoulder.

Erica had a difficult time falling asleep that night. Her mind kept wandering to thoughts of the monsters, not the imaginary ones under her bed, but the ones that she knew were real and the ones she had yet to discover.

Chapter 56

"Was this really necessary?" Bianca asked with a condescending eye roll. The all night diner was packed with the usual after two in the morning crowd of bleary eyed humans reeking with the scent of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and desperation.

"Really, Bianca," O'Sullivan said as he drizzled syrup over a Belgian waffle. "I'm just trying to blend in. I thought if anyone could appreciate the sentiment, it would be you. Now be a sport and pretend to eat your pancakes."

Bianca snatched the syrup off the table with a scowl. "Does the farmer pretend to eat with his cattle? I know you better than that. What is it that you want?" The syrup flowed over the pancakes in a viscous nauseatingly sweet smelling ooze. "There's a whole continent at your disposal. Plenty enough room for all of us. What are you still doing here?" She hissed out the last part.

O'Sullivan dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin and smiled widely. "Where is your master, Bianca?" With his index finger he gently tapped her fork, prompting her to put the utensil to use before the harried server noticed that they weren't eating.

Bianca picked up the fork and stabbed at the foul glob of flour and sticky syrup unceremoniously, "I told you, Carter is unavailable at the moment." She held her face in an expressionless mask. O'Sullivan was an expert at ferreting out the truth. Her lame excuses for Carter's inattention to his presence wouldn't placate him much longer.

"If I didn't know better. I'd say your master has gone to ground. But, I can see his handiwork in all of this," O'Sullivan said with a wide sweeping gesture. "He always was so fond of humans. So noble of him to offer them protection while he leaves his people to starve amongst the rabble."

"I'll be sure to convey your thoughts to Carter upon his return. I'm sure he'll find your concern for our well being worthy of his utmost attention." Bianca slid to the far edge of the bench and gathered up her jacket and purse. "I wish you'd just go away."

"I find that this particular region of the U.S. of A. holds my attention. Where else could I find the adrenaline rush of the big city and such, rustic, homespun, country charm only a few moments from my front door? I might just hang my hat here." O'Sullivan leered at Bianca over the table's worn formica surface. "Permanently."

"NO!" the fine veneer of Bianca's cool exterior shattered irreparably. She slammed her fist on the table, splashing cold, untouched, coffee over the rim of cheap, white mugs into brown puddles on the table.

The outburst from table ten startled Teresa into action. "Damn it..." she hissed under her breath as she searched the pockets of her apron for their bill. "Never should have quit the café." She hated the early hours at the café and despised dolling out lattes and espressos to the zombie like masses of morning commuters. But, being up all night hustling tables for pennies and dealing with the city's creatures of the night, wasn't any better. Between the drunks, the druggies, the prostitutes, and whatever else slithered through the door, she earned every cent she pocketed from the sticky, grunge crusted tables. She snatched two Styrofoam to go boxes and hightailed it toward the table, before the lover's spat between the man and woman got out of hand and she got stiffed for the ticket.

"Can I get you anything else?" Teresa asked in a terse, rushed, voice. The man and woman stopped scowling at each other long enough to turn their hate filled stares to her. She tore the ticket and slid it across the table, in between them. "Pay when you're ready." She set the to go boxes on the table and backed away. There was something about these two that sent her frazzled nerves on edge. She turned to wait another table. Hard, cold fingers snatched her wrist in a move so fast that she didn't have time to dodge it.