Dawn Redeemed

She felt so good. Whole again. He made love to her, perhaps for the first time ever. If there were anyone on the planet that didn't know the difference between making love and having sex, she'd be happy to point out the not so subtle differences. For years, she'd been going through the motions. Doing her duty. For the first time, she knew and understood the feeling of completeness that only came with making love, sharing a heart, and not just a body with another person.

Hanning saw the woman he'd married years ago. He saw her in the glistening tears that clung to her lashes. Gently, he cupped her head in his hands and traced his thumb over her lashes, gathering the tears as if they were more precious than diamonds. To him, they were. These tears weren't sad tears. They were cleansing tears of love and joy. He pressed his lips to one closed lid and then the other, tasting the saltiness of her tears on his lips.

Ruby opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. She reached up and brushed away a tear that had escaped from beneath his lashes and pressed her fingers to her lips. His tears were salty and cleansing as rain. They were tears shed out of love. Love for her. The tears of a mending heart. A heart that still loved her and forgave. She laced her fingers through his hair and guided his mouth to hers. The kiss was deep and so soft. Gentle as a whisper. Her body arched against him as he guided his length into her depths. They were one again. Wholly and fully, joined.

Hanning made love to his wife. Their limbs intertwined in a tangle. Her body was soft and warm beneath him. Gently and slowly, he filled her. With long strokes, he took his time, coaxing her body along. He buried his face into the curve of her neck. Her hair was sleek against the roughness of his unshaven cheek. He quickened his pace and pumped deeper and harder as her body tensed beneath him. Her walls tightened, gripping him tightly in their heat. He loved making her come. Her sighs were harmony to the deep throated moan of his pleasure as he let go and came, for her, always for her.

Chapter 87

Erica shook Torr's shoulder as hard as she could. "Torr," she whispered, "wake up!" Crap. What was she going to do? A worried whimper escaped her lips as he snorted and rolled over on his side. She was already late for work. Once she fell asleep. She slept like the dead and if not for the smell of freshly brewed coffee, she wouldn't awakened at all. Now she had a naked man, snoring like a hibernating bear, in her bed.

"Damn it, Torr!" She sat on the edge of the bed with a huff. Unless she could wake him up and stuff him out of the window, she was already busted. Hell, a naked man trotting across the backyard would probably attract much unwanted attention anyway. A smile crept across her lips. Despite the dried blood and thick streaks of dirt on his cheeks he looked almost boyish when he slept. Timidly, she bent and examined the side of his neck. Not as much as a scratch on him. The facts befuddled her. She had a naked man obviously weakened and wounded at her window last night. This morning, she had a naked man, completely healed and snoring comfortably in her bed. She couldn't wait to hear his explanation for this.

She folded a pair of her uncle's battered sweats and an old equally battered t-shirt on the edge of the bed and gave Torr a quick peck on the cheek. Gingerly, she inched open her bedroom door and peeked into the hallway. The coast was clear. Usually, her aunt respected her privacy and didn't hazard an unexpected trip into her room. She hoped today was no exception. She hoped Torr had enough sense to use the window instead of the front door.

"Come on, mom! We're already late, " Fallon wailed exasperatedly. The keys jangled as she dropped them into her mother's hand and slid her gigantic purse onto her arm.

"Ok, ok!" Erica huffed, casting one last worried glance at her closed bedroom door. Whatever Torr's explanation was. It had better be damned good.

The gravel drive at Nash's house looked like a used car lot. Erica eased into a smallish spot between two huge diesel monster trucks with tires as tall as she and slid into park. "What's going on here today?" she muttered.

"I don't know, mom," Fallon answered as she wiggled out of the tiny gap between the door and the neighboring truck. Curiously, she eyed the truck and was tempted to climb up onto it like a jungle gym. She passed. Her mom had that look on her face. For some reason, she was in a bad, bad mood. And Fallon knew that she didn't want to get the brunt of whatever was bugging her mom.

Erica gave Fallon a quick peck at the front door and sent her to class. The usually sleepy house was a flurry of activity this morning. She saw many strange faces, eying her with curiosity. Shrugging off the stares, she made a beeline for her office. The strangers looked enough alike to be related to one another. Maybe Nash was hosting a family reunion of some sorts. With all the strangeness going on around her right now, she'd believe about anything.

Gently, Erica shut the door to her office and fished out her cell phone while she waited for her computer to boot up. Her list of contacts was blessedly short. Eying the one she wanted, she hit send.

"Good morning, Erica," Alex's voice was innocuously chipper on the other end of the line.

"We need to talk," Erica said, nervously giving the tightly closed door a long glance.

"Okay...so talk." Alex could hear the urgency and worry in Erica's voice across the blank air space that separated them. Something had her agitated.

"I thought you said that you guys were the good guys," Erica accused.

"We are," Alex's answer was followed by a lengthy quiet pause on the other end. Erica was thinking, evaluating what to say next. Alex had cautioned her from the very beginning to choose her words. Especially those spoken over the phone very, very carefully. The secret was not to be shared. Ever. Toby tried to keep them one step ahead of the current technology. But, the problem was that technology was always marching forward at a fevered pace.

"Then why does my boyfriend have a wound on his neck? Puncture wounds, Alex. What the hell happened to him?" Erica's voice climbed an octave higher as she said the last sentence.

Alex sighed and rapped her nails on the edge of the desk. Last night they'd all felt the rush of power as the Great Father fused a link with Torr, adding him to their collective consciousness. Even now, she could feel Torr's presence, joined with hundreds of others, forming a constant harmonious whisper in the back of her mind. How to explain this? "No one is ever forced, Erica."

Erica pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the device in her palm. Sucking in a shocked breath, she returned the phone to her ear. "Are you trying to say that he let one of you snack on him?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Alex replied patiently.

"He knows about you?" Erica gasped. All of this time, she'd been carefully monitoring every word she said around him. He knew and he'd never so much as given her so much of a hint that he had a clue about her cousin. Of course, she hadn't said one tiny peep either. "How?"

"That, I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't. Everyone has secrets, Erica. Perhaps, it's time that you asked yourself the bigger question. What are his? What secret is he hiding from you?" Alex said. She'd been more than patient with Torr. Maybe, if he wouldn't spill the beans himself. Erica would spill them for him.

"I..., I'm at work right now. I'll have to think about that later," Erica stammered. She knew Torr had a side to himself that she'd never seen. A side that very few, if she had to guess, had seen. He'd shared his body and his heart with her, but there was a part of himself that he kept hidden from her. He wasn't a vampire. She knew how to spot them. And she couldn't see him offering himself to the vampires as a snack. What was his connection to the brothers? How did he even know about them? And how long had he known? "I've gotta go," she stuttered into the phone.

"Ok, well... try to have a nice day, Erica," Alex said in her usual cheer. Alice was about to fall head over heels into the rabbit hole. Alex could only hope that Erica didn't get hurt when she reached the bottom.

"Yeah...you too," Erica said, ending the call. She needed coffee in the worst way. Usually, she tried to leave her boss to his family and stay tucked away in her office. Not today. If she didn't get coffee, nothing was going to get done.

She wound through the throng of people milling about and made her way to the kitchen. The strangers were friendly enough, nodding at her as she passed, stepping out of her path, casting smiles at her, very polite, considering that to them, she was the stranger. Hired help. She caught sight of her daughter, working the room like a Vegas entertainer. Smiling and talking to the adults with an air of authority that went way beyond her ten years. "Fallon, come here please."

"What is it, Mom?"

"Why aren't you in class today?"

"Nash said we didn't have class today. He wants us to meet everyone instead. Aren't they great, Mom? I've made a lot of new friends." Fallon was eager to get back into the thick of the crowd and meet the rest of the amazing strangers.

Erica poured her coffee and added some cream and sugar. "You stick close to Marianne today, ok."

"Sure." a frown crossed Fallon's brow. "You think they're strangers don't you?"

"Fallon, they are strangers," Erica sipped her coffee. Fallon was very open and had no fear of strangers. Even as a toddler, she'd never been shy.

"No they're not, Mom. They're family," Fallon smiled up at her mother reassuringly. "Can I go now?"

"Yes. Please remember what I said. Stick close to Marianne today." Erica was being overly protective. But, Fallon was her kid and it was her job to keep her daughter safe. Nash would never let anyone in his home who would purposely harm a child. Of that Erica was absolutely certain. But, it never hurt to be cautious.

Erica sidestepped a burly man with a beard that dangled against his chest in an unruly clump of thick, brown hair. Dressed in black leather and lug soled biker boots, he looked more like a Hell's Angel than a reunited uncle or cousin. He snapped to attention and dipped low at his oversized waist in a bow. She returned the gesture and shrugged the event off. It was easier to dismiss the act as some kind of a cultural quirk than to over analyze it at this point. She could not handle any more weirdness today.

Carter did his best to ignore the wary eyes on his back as he made his way through the crowd of people mulling about. The vampires were strangers here. His scent had thrown them off. He looked like a human, more or less. But, he didn't smell like one. They had no idea what he was. Only that he smelled like a predator and they weren't used to sharing their space with anyone as deadly as him. As far as they knew they were at the very pinnacle of the food chain. Boy, were they ever sadly mistaken.

Dutifully, he poured a mug of steaming black coffee and snatched a croissant fresh out of the oven and dropped a big dollop of butter onto the plate next to the roll. Shayla was upstairs busily tending to their son. Their son. Carter liked the sound of that. A lot. R.J. bore another man's name, but Carter was beginning to see him as his own. The thought was scary and more than a bit overwhelming. Fatherhood was absolutely the last thing he'd ever seen coming. A hand slapped hard against Carter's shoulder, shoving him and sending coffee splashing over the rim of the deep mug. "What are you?" a deep voice rumbled behind him.

In a knee jerk reaction, Carter's fangs sprung forth and he tensed, ready for a fight. "Put your filthy paws on me again and you'll find out," he answered, wiping his coffee drenched fingers on his jeans. Shayla's roll lay in a pile of crumbs at his feet. That pissed him off. She'd asked him for something so simple, a cup of black coffee and a hot buttered roll.

Evan wiggled his way in between the stranger and his Uncle Carter. Adults could be so silly sometimes, fighting over the stupidest things. He stared up through the narrow space between the men towering over him. Size didn't intimidate him in the least. At six years old, almost everyone was bigger than him. "Uncle Carter, can I have some orange juice?"

Carter blinked down at Evan incredulously. The kid had saved his ass from one hell of a fight. "Of course." The big stranger glared down at Carter and lowered his gaze to Evan. To say the man was big was an understatement, Carter was over six feet tall and the guy looked down at him, which made the man almost seven feet tall. The man had a thick neck and biceps that were large enough to need their own zip code. Talk about someone Carter wouldn't want to come across in a dark alley.

Something in the big man's entire demeanor softened when he saw the little boy holding his glass in the air expectantly. Carter set Shayla's spoiled breakfast on the edge of the counter and reached for Evan's glass. Warily, Carter watched the big guy grin down at Evan and reach out to ruffle the little boy's hair with his big, meaty fingers.

Carter handed Evan the glass and chucked him under the chin with his finger. Obviously satisfied that Carter meant no harm, the big guy nodded his head apologetically and backed off. No matter what the wolves were or were not. They lived and breathed to protect their offspring. A trait that Carter admired in them. And it was certainly more than he could say for his own kind.

Carter watched Evan melt into a gathering of kids, triumphantly sipping at his orange juice. He shook his head in amusement. Had a six year-old really just saved his ass? Hmm? He was outnumbered by about a hundred to one. Yeah, Evan had.

For the first time in a long, long time, Carter was grateful that he'd avoided a fight. He actually wanted to live. Family, he guessed, real family, would do that to a man. A smile reached the edges of his lips as he refilled Shayla's mug and snatched another roll. Him, a family man? Something else he'd never seen coming.



Chapter 88

Ruby awakened to the sound of water hitting the shower walls. Last night had been amazing. A part of her felt the heady sensation of triumph. She had her man back. Or did she, really? One night in his bed hardly meant that a mystical reset button had been pushed and things would go back to normal. To win him back, she'd have to offer more than just her body. She'd have to fight with her heart and soul.

Hanning rinsed away a layer of thick, white, frothy bubbles and watched them roll lazily down his thighs on their way to the drain. He couldn't put his emotions into thoughts. Last night had felt so right. Ruby had responded to him in ways he'd never thought possible. Gone was the ice queen who had frozen him to the bone year after year. His eyes followed the sound of the sheets rustling as she turned over in bed. He didn't trust her. She'd been so cold to him for so long. A little warmth from her wasn't enough to penetrate the thick permafrost imprisoning his heart.

Ruby stood awkwardly at the bathroom door. Billowing clouds of white steam rolled from the crack in the door. Gently, she pushed the door open. Hanning was a stunning display of manhood. Trim waist, well defined muscle, a thin patch of dark hair grew in a trail from his belly button past the towel tied securely around his waist. She'd seen him naked countless times. But, he'd never stirred heat in her before like he did now. Embarrassed by her gaze focused on the knot that held the towel closed, she forced her eyes to meet his, wishing she hadn't. His brown eyes were hard and wary. "Hanning, do you...," she was thinking of asking him if he regretted last night. She really didn't want to hear the truth. She could see it in his eyes. "Never mind. I...I need to go check on Evan," she muttered in a small voice.

Hanning turned his attention away from Ruby and to the fogged mirror. "Sure," he said nonchalantly, dismissing her with a shrug. A part of him wanted to hold her in his arms and erase the heavy shadow of doubt that clouded the expression on her face. He couldn't let her in. He just couldn't risk it. Last night was about sating physical needs. Nothing else. Distance, he needed distance. "Tell him, I'll be down shortly."

Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat. Hanning was methodically applying toothpaste to his toothbrush, ignoring her completely. The cold shoulder routine made her shiver. "Ok, I'll tell him," she gripped her arms with her hands, fighting a shudder as she closed the door behind her.

The morning light added to the closed in feeling of Erica's tiny, cramped bedroom. Moving boxes yet to be unpacked lined the walls and the floors, leaving a narrow path between the bed, the closet, the window, and the door. Torr's head pounded and his stomach reeled. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd been out on an all night drinking binge instead of selling a piece of his soul to save the world. Groaning, he felt for an extra pillow and pulled it over his head. Erica's sweet honeysuckle scent wrapped around him like a safe warm blanket. He could stay here all day, bathed in the essence of her and hide from the role destiny had thrust him into.

He didn't want any part of what destiny had planned for him. The harder he tried to escape destiny's greedy grasp, the harder the pull became. If his father hadn't been the man he was, he would have been a great leader. Power had consumed him, body and soul, years before Torr was born. Power corrupted and twisted the man who had once been Seff into the bastard that had been his father. That couldn't happen to him. He wouldn't let it.

Torr grappled with the sheets and cinched them tightly around his hips as the sound of the opening bedroom door tore him from his thoughts. He'd hoped for Erica, instead Drew walked in and dropped a gym bag on the edge of the bed. "They're waiting for you."

Torr nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know." He felt the presence of his pack, their combined energies rippled along his skin. His pack expected a great leader. They expected a man, a great leader, like his father. How disappointed they'd be when they realized they were getting him instead. "They may not follow me," he said aloud the thoughts rambling in his head.

"They came. That's a start," Drew said. Torr's face was a kaleidoscope of emotions. Doubt. Worry. Fear. Emotions common enough for leaders. A true leader hid them deep down where they wouldn't be seen. Torr had the strength to be a leader. He lacked the conviction of his inborn abilities. In a way, Drew pitied him. He had chosen this life. Torr had not.

"I hope its enough." Torr took one last whiff of the pillow, trapping Erica's scent in his nostrils. Fallon's gentle, sweet, little girl smell was embedded in the fabric and soft down of the pillow as well. Torr wondered how many times they'd laid on the bed, mother and daughter, and stared up at the ceiling, hashing over a busy day's events before sleep claimed them. Their future was reason enough for him to do what he needed to do.



Chapter 89

David gently sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully gauging his sister's reactions. He stared down at his empty hands and waited. The silence in the dingy room was deafening. Theresa needed time to think about it. Wasn't every day that a person learned they'd joined the ranks of the damned. All in all, she'd taken the news pretty good.

He hadn't taken her to Guardian HQ out of fear Bianca would end her in a fit of jealousy. He kept an apartment nobody knew about in the low rent district of the city. The place was a squalid hovel, dirty, dingy, and roach infested. Not the kind of place his dear mother frequented. Which, was exactly why he'd chosen it.