Dawn Redeemed

"I think we're done here," Bianca fished a twenty out of her purse and dropped it on the table. Her eyes locked with O'Sullivan's in warning. He was ancient. One of the oldest she'd ever met. Hard to kill, but not impossible. He held the waitress's wrist in a death grip. Bianca saw the first glimmer of panic in the girl's eyes and the acrid tinge of fear waft off her skin. People, a whole restaurant filled with witnesses, had seen him grab at her and were curiously staring, eager for a little late night entertainment. If the girl ended up dead on the six-o-clock news, both she and O'Sullivan would be implicated.

O'Sullivan picked up the twenty with his free hand and forced the waitress's palm open. He wadded the crumpled bill in her palm and fisted her fingers around it. "Keep the change."

Teresa's fingers quivered with fear as the man released her wrist. Shit. She couldn't have worked free of his grip if she'd tried. The customers had already turned back to their greasy food and weak coffee, disappointed that there hadn't been more of a show. She ignored a demanding wave from table two and pushed her way behind the counter. Her hair fell in a spill of walnut brown, dusting the tops of her shoulders, as she pulled it free from its ponytail. The name tag left a rip in the pocket of the white polo shirt her boss required for a uniform. Wadding the hideous green apron in her fist, she dropped it into the trash. She stuffed the twenty into the cash register, not caring about making change for a tip. The grill cook stared over the stainless counter, looking at her. "Fuck it. I quit," Teresa said, storming out of the diner. The bell on the door chimed merrily behind her.

O'Sullivan grinned. If there hadn't been so many witnesses, he would have chased after the girl. She might have proved interesting prey. He turned and casually watched Bianca fill the Styrofoam container with food she would never eat. "You can try to be human. But, they always know. Deep down, humans know what we are. Their fragile minds just can't accept it."

He watched Bianca slide into her designer jacket and sling an overpriced handbag over her shoulder. She could almost pass as a human. She looked non threatening, innocent, like any other spoiled, rich, suburbanite housewife out for a night on the town. He'd pity the poor mugger who made the mistake of forcing her into a dark alley. "Give Carter a message for me."

"What?"

"Tell him that I have a gift for him," O'Sullivan said as he leaned back against the booth.

"You can leave it with me. I'll make sure that he gets it," Bianca said. She'd gathered her cool again and wore an impermeable, emotionless mask. Letting O'Sullivan get under her skin had been a mistake. One she would not repeat.

"This gift has to be delivered in person. Make no mistake about this, Bianca. Tell him that if he does not come to me. I will come to him." O' Sullivan rested his chin on his steepled fingers and focused a gaze so cold that it could stop a heart from beating onto her. "I will find him, one way or another."

Bianca forced her steps to be slow and cool. Turning her back on O'Sullivan was a dangerous thing to do. She'd seen him in action before. He could go from being so still that not one hair on his head would flutter in a wind storm to creating a bloodbath in less than ten seconds. If he wanted to, every person in the diner would be dead before they even realized it had happened. Things were beginning to escalate out of control and her options had dwindled down to three: Take over the Guardians personally, Join with O'Sullivan, or call for help. At this point, she wasn't sure which was the better option.

The one thing that she was sure of was that once O'Sullivan got what he wanted, he would go away. The sooner. The better. The only problem was that Carter seemed to be the only thing that O'Sullivan was after. Handing Carter over would solve her problem and save countless lives. So far, the death toll was miniscule in comparison to what it could be and she'd managed to keep it out of the media and tightly under wraps. So far, the Sons hadn't turned their attention to the goings on in the city and she wanted to keep it that way.

The issue had to be handled delicately. No one could know and she wasn't sure she could fully trust O'Sullivan. If she betrayed Carter, O'Sullivan would take care of another problem for her too. She was second in command, with Carter out of the picture, she could take her rightful place as leader. The Guardians and the whole city, would be hers for the taking.

She didn't know what gift O'Sullivan had for Carter, only that it wouldn't be pleasant. She did know, however that O'Sullivan would kill Carter if he got his hands on him. She didn't know how long O'Sullivan had fostered his grudge against Carter. A vampire could live for a virtual eternity and a vampire could hold a grudge a very, very long time.

O'Sullivan didn't bother with putting his leftovers in the Styrofoam container or slipping into his jacket. He only played at being human when it served his purposes. Right now, he had other things on his mind. Bianca would sell out her own mother if it meant saving her pretty little neck. She just needed the proper incentive. She was close to caving in and that meant he was getting closer to getting what he wanted. She It was the patient cat who caught the mouse and he had waited very, very long time to sink his claws into this mouse.

Chapter 57

Erica groggily pried her eyes open. The pale light of first dawn crept in around her binds. She'd only managed to steal a couple of hours of sleep last night. Gently, she reminded herself that it was Saturday and she didn't have to get up until she was good and ready. The house around her was quiet. Everyone was still asleep. Lazily, she closed her eyes and fell back asleep.

The dream began to form on the blank movie screen of her mind the minute she closed her eyes. Torr's voice echoed in her ears in a soft, seductive, growl, "Tell me what you want Erica." His mouth hovered inches above hers, full lips promising to satisfy her every whim. Thick, dark, long lashes veiled the hungry look of desire in his eyes. His weight rested on top of her, pressing her hips into the bed.

Dreams were funny things. The next instant she was poised on top of him. Naked. His hands grappled at her hips and guided her along his length. She rode him wildly, wantonly, and with absolute and total abandon. There were no covers to hide her body from his view. Nothing, not so much as a thin layer of latex to dampen the feel of his heat surging deeper and deeper inside of her. Their bodies intertwined and limbs tangled, hovering on the brink of fulfillment. She opened her eyes and stared down at his face. His expression was drawn and tight. The look a man has when he holds back to delay the moment.

Her fingers skated over the rise of his chest. His skin was hot to the touch. His chest rose and fell with the effort of the moment. She closed her eyes and threw her head back. The ends of her hair tickled against her shoulders and the back of her neck. Somewhere in her consciousness, she knew this was only a dream, but she could feel every hard thrust, taste the lingering taste of his mouth on the tip of her tongue, smell the deep musky, woodsy, scent of his skin in the air, and hear the heady groans of pleasure build in his throat.

The sounds of pleasure were replaced by a wet sounding, almost the sound that glue makes when its almost dry, a gloppy, squishy sound. Muscles and tendons tore, making a ripping sound like thick paper. Bones popped and ground together making a sickening sound like the snapping of dry twigs. Torr's skin heated to a fevered temperature that burned Erica's fingertips. Smooth flesh gave way to soft downy like fur. The moans of passion faded to whimpers of agony. A growl vibrated through Erica's body. Erica sailed through the air and landed painfully on the floor. Her head bounced off the wall like a ball thrown too hard and she laid there too dazed to move.

The sound of a growl, a low, threatening, throaty growl frightened Erica into opening her eyes. The wolf was huge, the color of milk chocolate tipped with rich cream. It towered over her, blowing hot streams of air across her face out of its round, black nostrils. Black lips peeled back to reveal a row of gleaming white teeth, sharp as razor blades. Something sliver around its neck reflected the light in the room and drew Erica's eyes away from the growl and the powerful jaws that could rip her face off with one bite. Torr's necklace, the braided leather necklace and silver pendant that Fallon had given him, stretched tightly across the thick, brown fur of the wolf's neck. A scream peeled free from her lips as the wolf crouched and leapt at her with its jaws open wide.

Erica snapped awake, gasping and clutching the covers in her fists. It was only a dream, but it was one of those dreams that seems so real. She could still hear the wolf's threatening growl, ringing in her ears. Torr's voice still whispered seductively in the back of her mind, repeating over and over, "Tell me what you want, Erica."

The headboard was cool and hard against Erica's back. She closed her eyes and tried to analyze the dream, but there was little about the dream that made any sense. Oh, she got the part about making love to Torr and knew exactly what had brought that part of the dream on. If the timing had been just a little bit better. Torr and she might have been doing exactly that.

The part she didn't get was where the wolf came from and why it sprung out of Torr so violently. Sighing, she rested her head against a pillow. Her conversation with Toby and the one she'd had with Torr must have given her imagination the wings it needed to fly. Werewolves? She could have dreamed up anything, or a number of different things, ghosts, goblins, fairies, little green aliens, but werewolves? How had they worked their way into her addled subconscious?

She threw the covers off of her and sat on the edge of the bed. Maybe, during the few hours of sleep she'd managed to grab last night. She'd heard that damn wolf howling at the moon. She had been suspicious that it was sniffing around the house again. About a week ago, she thought she'd seen tracks beneath Fallon's bedroom window.

Erica followed the sounds of normalcy coming from the kitchen and poured coffee into her favorite mug with unsteady hands. Squinting against the wash of golden sunlight shining through the kitchen window. The aftereffect of her fear seemed so unreasonable. Like Fallon's childish fear of the monster under the bed. Gently she chastised herself and plopped into an empty seat at the table. She hadn't bothered to add any cream or sugar to her coffee. Sipping the bitter brew, she waited for it to clear the cobwebs and the remnants of the dream out of her head.

Fallon nibbled on the edge of a pop tart and sipped her milk while she eagerly swung her dangling feet back and forth. Today was Saturday and she greeted the day with a child's unbridled enthusiasm. "Mom, what are we doing today?"

"Fallon, give your mother time to wake up," Leigh chided lightly. She cracked a couple of eggs into the sizzling skillet and popped a piece of bread into the toaster. "Good morning, Erica, want some breakfast?"

"Not right now," Erica managed to croak out.

Alexander glanced up from his newspaper and eyed Erica curiously. She looked

like death warmed over. Her hair was sticking up in a tangle of curls. Dark circles rimmed the pale skin beneath her eyes. "Didn't sleep last night?"

Erica frowned and shook her head, "Not much."

Fallon gulped down her milk and stuffed the last bite of pop tart into her mouth. She didn't get junk food very often and the sweetness of blueberries danced on her tongue. The sugar surged through her body, lending to her excess energy. "Mom...I'm bored." She'd been awake since the sun streaked across the sky, just waiting for someone to crawl out of bed to entertain her.

Alexander rolled his newspaper and bonked Fallon playfully on the top of her head. "I bet Jack's stall could use a good mucking out."

Fallon wrinkled her nose and frowned at her uncle. "Uncle Alexander...eew...I'm not doing it. I'm just a little girl."

Alexander chuckled and tossed his paper lightly on the table. "How about I saddle Jack up and you ride him around the pasture while I clean the stable."

"All by myself?"

"Sure, I think you're becoming quite an accomplished horsewoman and Jack...he's not as spry as he used to be."

"Neither are you," Leigh teased as she heard Alexander groan when he got up from the chair.

"Quiet woman," Alexander grumbled playfully. He motioned to Fallon with a nod of his chin. "Are you coming?"

"Mom, can I?"

Erica hesitated for a minute and thought. How could she say no to Fallon when at the same age, she'd been riding Jack around the pasture by herself too? "Ok, wear your helmet though and don't take him outside of the fence."

"Ok, I won't," Fallon agreed to her mother's terms and bounded after her uncle.

Erica pushed away from the table and stood. "I'm going to grab a shower and try to wake up."

Leigh knew Erica as well as she knew her own daughter. Something was weighing heavily on her mind. "Erica, is everything ok?"

Erica forced a smile and shuffled past her aunt without pausing to meet her eyes, "Sure, everything is fine."

Chapter 58

Ruby checked and double checked each room. Dawn was rising high in the sky and if she was going to go, it was now or never. If she drove through the night, she could be back in time to make Evan pancakes for breakfast. As it went, pancakes weren't much of a peace offering for the damage she'd caused. The house was packed up. Dust cloths neatly arranged over the furniture. Draping white sheets that hung to the floor like ghosts. She'd unplugged every appliance and propped the refrigerator door open with a chair. The place was as devoid of life and as silent as a graveyard.

Tracker stood in the open doorway, peeking in at her. "So you're taking off again?"

Ruby gave the living room one last glance and nodded. She handed a suitcase to Tracker, who took it from her hand and carried it to the idling vehicle. She flipped the lock on the front door and dragged a second suitcase behind her.

"Find what you were looking for?" Tracker asked as he hefted the suitcases into the back and shut the door firmly.

"I hope so."

Tracker gave Ruby a light hug. Smiling when she hugged him back. People like her were the reason he and Catcher stuck around and maintained this place in such a pristine condition. Sometimes, people who were lost just needed a safe place to hang their hat till they figured things out. After all, no matter how far it travels, a wolf always, always finds its way back home. "Good luck, Ruby." Tracker tapped the hood and stepped back.

"Thanks." Ruby climbed up into the driver's seat and fastened her seatbelt. Slowly, she inched out of the driveway and slid the gear down into drive. With a small tear rolling down her cheek, she said goodbye to her past and to Ramon and pulled out onto the open road that stretched ahead of her as far as the eye could see.

Evan dragged a stool up to the side of the stove and scrambled onto the seat. "What are you doing, Dad?"

"I thought I'd get up early and make my son a gourmet breakfast this morning," Hanning answered. This routine of forcing himself out of bed early, showering, and taking time to shave, and brush his teeth and hair was trying, but he'd made his son a silent promise that he was going to keep. Sooner or later, the pain that threatened to drag him under would fade. It had to.

Evan cocked his head curiously and looked at the lopsided burnt side of a pancake his dad nursed on the griddle. His mom could make them perfectly round and an even golden brown, on both sides. When she was in a happy mood, she'd arrange a piece of bacon in a smile on one end of the pancake, use two eggs with the goo in the middle for eyes, and a give his pancake man a strawberry for a nose. Evan felt a pang of sadness deep in his belly. He missed his mom. "Do you miss her, dad?"

"Your mom?" Hanning hedged carefully. Frowning when Evan nodded inquisitively. "I can't honestly answer that, Buddy. I do and I don't. Sometimes when people are angry. They say a lot of things that they don't mean and they hurt the people they say they love the most."

"Mommy hurt your feelings?"

Hanning nodded and flipped the pancake. The edges were dark and burnt and the middle was raw and gooey. All in all, it was a poor excuse for a pancake, but it was maybe salvageable. "She did."

"Do you still love her?" Evan asked.

Hanning thought about the question. "I guess I do. Otherwise, it wouldn't hurt so bad right here," he said, pointing to his heart.

"Mommy always fixes my boo-boos, maybe she can fix yours too." Evan hopped off the stool and took the plate from his dad's hands.

Hanning watched his son shuffle into the dining room and knew there was nothing he could say that wouldn't hurt Evan worse. Ruby didn't care how bad the boo-boo was on his heart. She wouldn't be coming back to fix it. If she came back, it wouldn't be to fix any wounds, only to make them worse.

Shayla awoke to the sound of her son's gleeful laughter and Carter muttering under his breath. "What are you doing to that child?" She asked in amusement. Carter was hunched over the crib. White particles of baby powder drifted on currents of air over his head.

"Changing a diaper," Carter huffed in dismay. The theory seemed easy enough. Take the soiled diaper off and stick another one on. He hadn't accounted for the fact that R.J. had other plans and had urinated in a fountain that covered them both the minute the old diaper was off. He had to wash R.J. and himself and redress the baby. Now, he was ready to give this diaper thing another go around.

Shayla chuckled and nudged Carter out of the way with her hip. "A centuries old vampire can't figure out how to diaper a baby. He's a boy, Carter. You start with the diaper in the front, so you don't..." she bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud when she saw the wet spots on Carter's shirt. "Oh, you've already figured that part out."

Carter grunted and stepped out of the way. Shayla made it look easy. Deftly, she taped the diaper in place and slid R.J's wildly kicking legs back into the onsie. He was a warrior toughest ever built and yet, he stood defeated by an infant. "I'm going to the shower."

"Ok." Shayla lifted her son out of the crib and cuddled him against her cheek. "Did you get the big, bad vampire all wet?" She asked in a coddling tone. R.J. giggled and kicked his feet in response, drooling a river of clear saliva down one side of his chin.

Shayla's mood was light and happy. After the dark tone of the last few days, she was glad for a reprieve, no matter how brief it might be. She sat in the rocker and fed R.J. his breakfast while she listened to the shower spray strike the tiled walls. Carter was doing remarkably well, all things considered. He'd managed to control his instincts and do his best to fit in amongst strangers.

Shayla had been attracted to Carter from the moment she first laid eyes on him. From their fist kiss she'd been caught in his snare and didn't want to be freed. Ever. Somehow, he'd managed to work his way into her heart. Even deeper than she'd thought possible. She believed that Ramon was the only man she'd ever truly loved. And she still did love him. But, she had room enough left over in her heart for Carter. For the first time since Ramon's death, hearing the man that she loved climb out of the shower, and holding her baby in her arms, she was calm and at peace, truly and wholly happy.