Dawn Redeemed

The smaller gray wolf spread her paws apart and widened her center of gravity to take the force of the blow. She couldn't do much more to protect her son than draw the wolf's attention away from him. No matter how strong her mate was, he couldn't claw and bite his way through layers of siding and lumber. She responded to the wolf's growl with one of her own. He hobbled on his injured fourth leg as he circled her, trying for the best angle for attack. She sidestepped, never taking her greenish-golden eyes off her opponent. To do so would ensure that her death warrant was signed, sealed, and delivered. She lunged and snapped defensively at the circling wolf.

The male growled back and lunged offensively, gauging the strength of his opponent. Waiting for a possible weakness to reveal itself. Wolf mentality didn't measure the worth of an adversary by size, but rather by ability. The gray wolf countered every advance and sidestepped with lithe grace and purpose of movement. A child's shrill cry drew the she-wolf's attention away long enough for an opening to present itself. The male wasted no time and dove in, landing pointed fangs meant for grabbing and holding prey, through fur and skin, deep into the thick layer of muscle of her shoulder.

Wounded, the female shrank back, painfully balancing her weight on her three good legs as the male poised to deliver another agonizing attack. She drew air into her lungs and barked and growled as menacingly as she could muster in between labored whimpers. The smell of her blood was thick in the air, accompanied by the faint whispering undercurrent of death. The human inside beneath her fur drew in a resolute breath tinted with the acid taste of fear. They were going to die.

A wolf, roughly the size of a small pony dove in between the two lesser wolves and ordered them down with an air of authority. His white fur glimmered crystalline as diamonds in the sunlight. Lean muscles made the fur ripple like waves of freshly fallen snow. Brownish gold eyes, the rich color of smoky quartz shifted from one wolf to the other, staring them into submission. Leathery black nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath and loosed a howl, calling his children home.

Ruby bit her lip, containing a cry of agony at the shooting pain in her right shoulder. Blood ran in rivers down the back of her arm and pooled in the grass beneath her, staining the green blades deep crimson. Someone wrapped her in a soft knit throw and gently pressed a gloved hand on the wound. Exhausted, she rested on the lush blanket of grass and clutched her son tightly with her free hand. Tears flowed as freely as the blood, down her cheeks as she buried her face in his feather soft hair "I'm so sorry."

Hanning rolled over onto his back and stifled a gasp as the wound on his upper thigh throbbed and stretched with the strain of his movement. He batted away the hands that were trying fervently to help him and stared across the grass at Ruby. She held Evan in her arms. Despite the pain of her injuries and spoke to him softly, with apologetic, caring words that he hoped for his son's sake, she meant. For the moment, Evan was safe. Ruby was under close scrutiny by the pack, she wouldn't be allowed to so much as take a piss without supervision. Not until Eloise, Nash, and the Great White Wolf sorted this mess out.

Carter gritted his teeth and exhaled as Claire extracted another large shard of glass from his back and dropped it onto a wad of gauze she had spread over the grass. "Damn, woman aren't you finished yet?"

"Hold still or your skin will heal over the glass." Claire dug a knee hard into Carter's back to hold him down. If he wanted to, he could toss her across the yard like a rag doll. He was doing his best not to squirm as she took tweezers and pried shards of glass out of his rapidly healing wounds. She hated to be mean to her patients, but sometimes with the supernatural, she'd found that a harsh bedside manner worked the best. The last thing she wanted to do was to reopen the deep lacerations and spend more time probing and hurting him than what she had to.

Shayla kept out of the way. She held R.J. tightly in her arms as she wound her way over to Ruby. Hanning's expression was wary of her sister. Gently, she separated Evan from his mother. "Evan, your mommy is going to be just fine."

Evan wiggled out of his mommy's arms and looked up at his aunt. "I know," he said. The sunshine had warmed the grass under his feet. He sidestepped the stained areas of blood in the yard and walked over to his dad.

His dad's skin was cool in his palms. His day's worth of beard, rough on his fingers. "Everything is going to be better now," Evan said with an easy smile. Evan had one more person to talk to. Someone who didn't always get the credit he deserved, Uncle Carter. Carter had risked his life to save him, even a boy of a meager six years old understood how much that meant.

Uncle Carter was hunched with his arms crossed over his knees as Aunt Claire worked on the bits of glass embedded in his scalp. Evan knelt and gave his uncle a kiss on his forehead. "If you hold really still, Aunt Claire will put Scooby Do bandaids on your boo-boos' when she's done. If you're really, really good, maybe she'll give you a cherry sucker. I know you can't eat it, but I'll share it with you."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Carter gritted. He didn't know who or what a Scooby Do was and at the moment, he didn't care. He'd give Evan a hundred cherry suckers, if that's what the boy wanted. He was just so glad that the boy was safe. He lifted his head for Evan and gratefully accepted a timid peck on the forehead. He would have died to keep that little boy from harm. He reached out with his arm and grabbed Evan, hugging him furiously. Knowing that, if the situation ever called for it, he still would risk his life for Evan. Always.

Jan hurried from patient to patient, barking orders and issuing supplies. "Thomas is on his way," she huffed to a frazzled Claire as she dropped a pack of gauze on the grass beside her and rushed back to survey Hanning's injuries. Considering how much worse the wounds could have been, she believed Hanning and Ruby to be pretty damned lucky. They could have killed one another. Wolves healed fast and within a few hours they'd look no worse for wear. Still, she'd feel much better if her husband took a peek at them, just to be sure.

Drew stood over the wounded, watching the two nurses work their magic tending injuries. There were some wounds, no matter how skilled the practitioner, that couldn't be healed by any means of modern medicine. For those, only time and love would cure. He gathered the blanket in his fist and offered Hanning a boost onto his feet. "Once all have recovered, we'll meet."

"Of course," Hanning gathered his balance and stood on his own two feet, hobbling stiffly toward his son.

"Hanning..." Ruby whispered to her husband as he hobbled past, limping heavily on his good leg. He didn't slow or pause to so much as glance in her direction. He didn't acknowledge her at all. He just kept on walking. His gesture brought a fresh stream of burning tears to her eyes.

Hanning ignored the pleading look on Ruby's face and the soft whisper of his voice on her lips. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to face her right now. He rested a hand on the top of his son's head and bowed low to Carter. "Thank you," he said to the vampire who had saved his son's life from the very being that he thought his son would never have to fear, his father.

Carter returned the gesture and gave Evan a gentle nudge toward his father. "You're welcome. It was my honor." His job of protecting Evan was not over. Not until he drew his last breath. Carter knew the road ahead would not be an easy one for this family. But, everyone was alive and that was a good start.

Evan slid his fingers into his dad's hand and looked up at him, smiling. "Dad, can I have some ice cream?" Adults tended to worry too much, about everything. As far as he was concerned, now that his mommy was home, there was nothing more to worry about.

Hanning had to admire his son's resiliency. There didn't seem to be anything that the kid couldn't bounce back from. Perhaps, that's the way everyone was born, innocent and carefree, willing to forgive and forget. Perhaps, it took more than one time, hurt stacked upon hurt before a person's heart hardened and forgiveness fell into short supply. "Sure."



Chapter 72

Erica left Fallon and Uncle Alexander battling it out over a checker board and retreated to a sunny spot in the backyard, as far away from the house as she could get. After being publicly humiliated by her spitfire of a daughter, scrutinized by her aunt and uncle, and laughed at by her best friend, she needed a few hours of peaceful retreat. Her thoughts were spread thin, bouncing from one topic of concentration to another, to another. She was way too frazzled to lose herself in a novel and settled for drifting along, sunning lazily in the brilliance of the early afternoon sun.

The heat of the sun beat down on her bare shoulders. The warmth was welcome. After last night, she was sore in places she didn't even know existed and in a few that had been sorely neglected for far too long. The blanket beneath her, an old bedspread that had seen more than its fair share of washings and abuse was warm. The baby sweet scent of fabric softener melted into the hazy smell of freshly mowed grass and the gentle, musky aroma of livestock grazing in a nearby pasture. In the distance she heard the rustle of the leaves in the trees whispering in a hot, dry breeze.

She was going to have to have a talk with Fallon. Erica had always taught her daughter to be honest and to her knowledge, Fallon had never lied. But, Fallon didn't have to volunteer everything she knew either. How was she going to explain the old saying, discretion is the better part of valor, to a rambunctious ten-year-old? Erica rolled over on her belly and rested her weight on her elbows. Idly, she plucked blades of grass out of the lawn by the roots.

"You're going to be red as a lobster if you don't put some of this on." The bottle of sunscreen landed with a plop on the blanket next to Erica's right shoulder.

Erica picked up the bottle and held it in her palm. She inhaled the rich scent of coconut and smiled. "I didn't know they still made this stuff. What about you? Are you sure you won't burst into flames or whatever it is that vampires do on TV?"

"Funny," Alex said as she flopped down onto the blanket next to Erica. She adjusted an old ball cap she'd found on a forgotten peg and pushed a pair of heavily tented lenses tighter against her face. "I'm only moderately flammable. Sunlight is uncomfortable, but it won't kill me. Anymore, not much will." Alex plucked a handful of wild clover heads out of the grass and began twisting the stems in her fingers.

"Immortality has it's perks, I guess," Erica huffed grouchily.

"And its drawbacks. Change isn't easy for most of my kind. They kind of get stuck in the era they turned." Alex flipped the cap of the bottle open and inhaled the sweet, coconut scent of the sun block. "God, I love the smell of this stuff." She squirted a generous dollop in her palm and began smearing it all over Erica's pale back. "Some of the vampires I've met are a lot like this old bikini," she said as she jokingly snapped the worn navy blue and white polka dotted halter strap that had been in fashion, once upon a time. "Dated."

Erica snickered and faked a scowl. "This bikini is a classic." She turned onto her side and squinted up at Alex. "Why'd you do it?"

"Hide this bikini in the bottom of my old dresser?" Alex asked, grinning.

"No, you know." Erica curled her upper lip, baring her short blunt canines.

Alex ran her finger over the top of the bottle and collected the left over bit of sun block from its tip, gently rubbing it over Erica's cheeks and nose. "I don't know how to explain it without sounding like a nut case. After Lucian died I began to have...visions...I guess you'd call them. There's a whole universe out there that defies explanation and when I got a call from the great unknown, I answered."

"Yeah, that sounds just a little crazy. I'm not sure I follow you."

Alex saw the look of confusion and disbelief on Erica's face. "Vampires have been around for a very long time. Maybe since the beginning of it, for all I know. The Americas were uncharted territory, wild and untamed. That was until the first settlers sailed across the ocean and landed on these shores. When they came, guess what they unwittingly brought with them."

"Vampires."

"Exactly," Alex said, nodding her head. "Can you imagine what they did to a defenseless people? The Native Americans had no idea what a vampire was. They were completely defenseless against them. The vampires reaped a path of destruction across this continent. There was nobody to stop them, until the first of the Sons was created.

"According to their legends, Kokumthena, their goddess of creation sickened by the slaughtering of her people and the decimation of entire races begged her father for his help. And he did, sort of. He would not stop the evil, but he did give her a way to even out the playing field. He gave her the ability to create the ultimate weapon against the Rogues. Vampires."

Alex shrugged. "Kind of fight fire with fire, I guess. Kokumthena searched the whole of her people, for centuries, to find a warrior of great worth. Finally, she found such a man. He was wounded in battle. Dying on the battlefield while defending his people from the never ending onslaught of all consuming greed. The Goddess gave him her blood and his mission. The great warrior shared his blood and so forth and so on. The Sons are the good guys, Erica. They keep the balance. Their only mission is to keep the Rogues, the bad guys, in check." A shudder rolled through Alex's shoulders. "Trust me, you don't ever want to meet the bad guys."

Erica sat up and curled her knees up to her chest. "What's all of this got to do with you? I mean it's a hell of a bedtime story, but I'm pretty sure our ancestors spoke the King's English."

"Probably so, but our family has been in this area for the better part of two centuries. Not all of the Sons are vampires, Erica. Some are as human as you. This town was built by them. Generation after generation have been born here, lived their whole lives here, and died here. The secret was the cornerstone on which this town built its foundation. Our ancestors shared their blood with the Sons and the Sons with them in return. Their blood, our blood, it flows through all of us. Some will serve as human, some not. What I became, I did so out of choice. In a way, I think its what I was born to do.

"That's why my mom moved away, isn't it? She knew." Erica didn't know any of this. By the time she was old enough to remember anything of importance, she and her mother were already living in D.C.. During the summers she spent with Alex, she didn't ever recall seeing anything suspicious. Even now, she rarely saw anything beyond the sleepy little Midwestern town dozing around her. Whomever the Sons were, they were good at one thing beyond all others, invisibility.

"Yes, she did, Erica. She thought if she moved away with you, she could keep you out of it. This place was her home and she loved it. She just wanted a different life for you."

"You could have saved her. Your blood could have kept her from dying."

"It could have. But, this life isn't for everybody, obviously. Nothing is without cost. She might not have died, but she wouldn't have lived the kind of life she wanted to live."

"What about my dad?"

"Your mom wanted what she considered a normal life for you. Your dad, he wanted nothing more than to be a brother. He sacrificed everything, you, your mother, even his own life for it. And in the end, he did so, for albeit a worthy cause, but not a cause meant for him. He died trying, Erica."

Erica blinked a stray tear away. She hadn't ever known her father. She would have liked to have gotten the chance. A surge of anger burned through her that her mom had never really told her the truth. Maybe, Alex wasn't even telling her the whole truth now. As Erica was beginning to find out, dead was only a matter of technicality and point of view. "Is he really dead?"

"Yes." Alex answered gently.

Erica held back a sniffle. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know my mom and dad never will. They love you too much to bring up old hurts. But I could see how much pain not knowing was causing you. I think you're doing the right thing by letting Fallon get to know her dad."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Erica said, dabbing at the sweat beading up on her forehead with the edge of the blanket. The sun that was so comfortingly warm had become intolerably hot. "Sometimes, I'm not sure if I'm doing the right things for Fallon. I always have that fear that I'm not a good enough mom or there's something I should be doing differently. It makes me feel better to know that you're in my corner."

Alex gracefully rose to her feet and extended her hand to Erica. "It's just not me in your corner. We all are." She clasped her hand around Erica's and with a light tug, pulled her to her feet. "Oh, just so you know. Dad really does like Torr. He's just giving you a hard time."

"Great." Erica bent and gathered up the blanket in her arms. Stray bits of grass fell in a shower of vibrant green around her feet. Her skin was flushed, slick with the combination of sweat and sun block. The grass squished between her toes as she padded barefoot, careful not to step on any bees, across the yard. She loved her uncle, down to the last protective molecule in his body. He just didn't seem to realize that she wasn't twelve years old anymore. Living with her aunt and uncle was really putting a kibosh on her independence. They'd never see her as an adult, as long as she was under their roof. As soon as she could afford a deposit and first month's rent, she was going to start looking for a place for she and Fallon to call home.



Chapter 73

"How are you feeling mommy?" Evan asked, climbing onto a big four poster bed to snuggle next to her. An uneaten tray of food sat on the night stand and the drapes were pulled tightly closed, bathing the room in almost total darkness. He didn't understand why she wasn't sharing a room with daddy anymore or why there were people posted outside her door all of the time.

Ruby forced a smile for her son's sake and moved her arm. "Good as new, Baby. The doctor saw me and he says I'll be just fine."

"Daddy's ok too," Evan said.

"Good. That's really good. I was worried about him."

Evan scooted over on the bed to examine the uneaten tray. His eyes landed on a big chocolate chip cookie resting on a plate. "Aren't you going to eat your cookie?"

Ruby smiled at Evan and shook her head, "No, you can have it." Evan snatched on to the cookie and climbed off the bed with it clinched tightly in his fingers. "Where are you going?"

"I don't want to get crumbs in the bed," Evan answered. Mom didn't like it when he ate in bed. He didn't want to see her unhappy again. Ever.

"Don't you worry about that," Ruby said, patting the empty space next to her. "We aren't ever going to worry about little things like a few crumbs in the bed ever again."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ruby scowled at the vampire hovering in the corner, watching every second she spent with her son, listening to every word of their conversation. His disdain for her radiated from every pore. "Do you have to be in here?"

Carter lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Do you want to see your son?" As far as he and the others were concerned. The threat was far from isolated. Ruby was injured, but she was still very dangerous. Hanning hadn't wanted her within ten feet of the boy. The only way he'd allow Evan to visit his mother was under close observation. Carter vehemently agreed.