Dawn Redeemed

Fallon climbed into the shelter of her uncle's lap and buried her face in his neck. Sobs racked her body and tears fell onto the collar of his soft, faded t-shirt. "I'm getting snot on you," she sniveled.

"That's ok." Alexander smoothed his hands down Fallon's back and made little circles with his palms between her shoulders. The recliner groaned with the added weight as he rocked it gently back and forth with the heel of his foot. "It can't be all that bad," he soothed.

"Yes..." Fallon said between heaving breaths, "yes it can."

Torr watched the woods fade from dappled colors of green and yellow to the washed out shadows of twilight, never moving from his perch against the rough bark of the oak. Erica's scent lingered in the still air of the woods, clinging like the last of the daylight clung to the leaves and pine boughs around him. She was gone. Maybe for good. The memory of the horrified look on her face doubled him over as if he'd received a crippling blow straight to the gut. He only wanted her to understand. His hope was that she'd see through the fur and fangs and look deep into who he truly was. She hadn't. She hadn't seen one damn thing except for his beast. He couldn't blame her. Sometimes, he scared himself on many levels.

Perhaps he hadn't tried hard enough to make her understand, to make her truly see him. Trying to stop her from bolting out of the woods with their daughter in tow would have done nothing more than solidified her fear of him. Whether she was afraid of him or not, he still had more to explain. They had to talk. For Fallon's sake he had to make Erica see beyond her fears and understand. He might have already lost her. But, he was not about to lose his daughter too. He couldn't.

"I've already done everything you've asked," Torr said into the thickening shadows. His senses picked up on the fact that he was not alone. The air around him was heavy with scent and his skin prickled with awareness.

Drew tipped his head slightly and slid out of the shadows with unimaginable grace. Old habits died hard. For two centuries, shadows were his only source of comfort. He didn't have to shift about in the shadows and hide from the light, not any longer. "You're not done yet."

Torr bristled in the presence of the elder alpha. Drew stood tall and proud, as if he were a statue carved of the wood of one of the centuries old majestic trees towering above him. "After this...I am."

Drew had silently hoped that Torr would find the inner strength that he needed to stay at his people's side. Torr had done exactly what Drew had asked. Torr had been a leader to his people and brought them to where they needed to be. Anything beyond that, Torr was on his own to decide. "If that is what you choose."

"It is."

Chapter 94

"Come to mama," Shayla coaxed R.J. in the sweet voice she reserved just for him. The baby rolled over onto his stomach and wobbled up onto his elbows and knees, inching his way like a little worm along the rug toward the sound of her gentle urging.

Carter stretched out on the floor next to Shayla and watched curiously as the little tyke struggled his way across the rug. In the grand scheme of things, R.J. wasn't getting very far. But, the feat was no less miraculous. Playfully, Carter nipped the bare skin along the back of Shayla's neck. Smiling when she curved her body against his chest and gave that shivery little sigh that let him know that she liked what he was doing.

"Look Carter," Shayla said in awe. "He's crawling." Her heart beat like an excited drum in her chest. She was so proud of her baby boy. Her son was learning. Growing.

Carter chuckled and peeked out from behind the sleek curtain of Shayla's velvet hair. He tipped his head to the side. "I wouldn't call that crawling just yet."

"Stop teasing," she said playfully. "Today he crawls. Tomorrow he walks. The next day, he runs. He's just growing up so fast."

Carter clucked his tongue at R.J. and was rewarded with a slobbery coo. He reached out and spread his fingers on the rug. R.J. latched on to his index finger tightly. Carter's finger was longer than the width of the baby's fist, clutching him in its grip. Such a tiny little hand, yet, in his palm, R.J. held the key to a universe of endless possibilities. There was nothing the boy could not imagine. No one he couldn't become. Perhaps, that's why humans smiled when they saw children and gave their lives to protect them. Perhaps that's why he would as well. To make sure, the children got the chance to do and be all the things that they, as grown adults, had not.

R.J. was not meant to be an immortal, at least not as immortal as Carter was. Even with the gift of the wolf, he would still grow up, grow old, and in time, die. Wolves aged, more slowly than their human counterparts, but much, much more rapidly than vampires. Eventually, Carter would lose both R.J. and his mother. Carter envied them both that. They could change like a rushing river could change course. He did not. Raindrops would fill a barren ocean before natural death finally came for him.

Carter flashed a smile and hid his morose thoughts down deep where not even Shayla could sense them. "Yes, he will grow into a fine man someday." Carter would make sure of it.

Shayla returned Carter's warm smile. There was something more to the smile than what touched the curve of his lips. His eyes always gave him away. His smile never reached their arctic blue depths. As if the chill chased away any warmth before they could thaw their icy wasteland. Carter was a man, haunted by his long, long past. Days passed, years slipped away and became decades, and decades faded into centuries. But, the memories never left him. Perhaps, a plague of memories were the price of a life such as Carter's. Perhaps that was why the vampires stole away from humans the only thing that they could, death. She wrapped her arms around Carter's shoulders and pulled him into the warmth of her body. "With the two of us to raise him. How could he not?"

Hanning was avoiding her. Everywhere Ruby went, he wasn't. After playing with their son, Hanning had quickly handed him over and just disappeared into the crowd. She wasn't going to let him get rid of her that easily. If going to his bed had worked once. It might work again. She tucked Evan in just a little early. He was too tired from the excitement to kick up too much of a protest. Carefully, she selected a sleek, richly colored purple spaghetti strapped nightgown with lacy trim stitched along a neckline that went all the way down to there...and past. She slipped in between the sheets and breathed the scent of him in while she waited. Eventually, he had to sleep sometime.

Nervousness tickled deep in her gut. What if he didn't want her? What if last night had just been a fluke? She couldn't afford the luxury of doubt. Time was growing precariously short. And to win him back, she was willing to pull out all the stops.

Hanning stumbled into his bedroom and clumsily kicked the door closed behind him. He didn't want any late night visitors tonight. He'd spent the biggest majority of the evening in the rec room commandeered from the kids into a makeshift quarters for the single males from Torr's pack.

He'd been downstairs losing his hard earned money at poker and drinking beer until he thought he was going to puke. Yeah, the last thing he wanted was a visit, at least not from Ruby. The sexy little brunette he'd caught eying him off and on all day. Her, he could make an exception for. But, Ruby... hell no. Last night had nearly cooked him. He couldn't even allow himself the guy pat on the back that came from a night of good sex. Fucking the ex didn't count. And given that his ex was Ruby, there wasn't any room for congratulations. Sympathy. Maybe. But, congratulations, nah.

He flopped down on the bed and drunkenly took a long draw out of the long neck in his fist, nursing the last warm drop onto his tongue. He set his empty on the nightstand and watched it fall and roll under the bed as he kicked off his boots. Usually, he wasn't this sloppy. He would have noticed the lump beneath the covers, even in the dark, from across the room. Her perfume would have tickled his nose from the hallway out side his door. "What are you doing here, Ruby?"

"I wanted to see you again," Ruby said. The skin of his upper arm was hard and smooth beneath her palm. He was warm and so alive, burning her fingers with his heat.

Hanning cursed under his breath and slid from beneath her touch. His hand skimmed through his hair, causing it to stand up at all kinds of odd angles. His bedroom tilted precariously as the last of the alcohol surged through his inebriated system. "It's late," he said softly. No matter how badly she'd hurt him. He couldn't hurt her in return. He just didn't have it in him to be so cruel. "Go to bed, Ruby."

"I'd rather stay with you," Ruby winced at the juvenile sound of desperation in her voice. The muscles in his back twitched and tensed as she reached out to brush her fingers down his spine. Dejectedly, she dropped her hand and retreated to her old side of the bed.

Hanning would rather eat his day old jockey shorts that start a fight with her tonight. He really, really didn't have the energy to put up with her or to put her out, not tonight. "Fine. Whatever. Just stay on the other side of the bed and keep your hands to yourself," he huffed grumpily. His posture was awkward and stiff as he stretched his body down the length of the bed and forced his eyes closed. The nightgown she was wearing had peaked the interest of some of the baser functioning parts of his body. And his cock twitched and bulged zealously. But, he was so not going there. "Goodnight Ruby."

"Thanks for letting me stay." Ruby didn't dare so much as stir the bed to get into a more comfortable position. She watched Hanning's eyes slide closed and his lips open slightly as he crashed headlong into a deep, drunken, slumber. The nightgown hadn't worked. Sex wasn't going to be enough to win or keep his heart, not this time. She was going to have to get real... with herself and with him. For the first time ever, if she wanted him back badly enough.





Chapter 95

Erica couldn't help but feel like a second rate thief as she wiggled through an open window and landed with a loud bang on the living room floor. Thankfully, the carpet helped to break her fall, a little. She spent all evening driving in circles, contemplating what her next move was going to be. And here she was.

Torr's house was dark. The truck wasn't in the driveway or the garage. He wasn't home. And that was a good thing. Timidly, she flicked on the lamp and ran her hands over the collage of picture frames scattered on the end table. Most of them were of Fallon. The pictures she'd given him when they had their first meeting. There were a few of people she didn't recognize and who bore no resemblance to Torr or to each other. Random pictures in shabby picture frames. Not what she'd expect from someone with Torr's unlimited means.

Torr coasted the truck down the driveway and flipped off his headlights. From the other side of the curtain he could see the dim yellow glow of a lamp shine around the cracks of the curtains. He didn't remember leaving a light on. He fished around under his front seat and slid his old Smith and Wesson into his palm. The weight of the gun felt good in his grip. If he had a robber. Boy were they about to get the surprise of their lives. He eased the door of the truck closed and inched around to the side of the house, sneaking in the backdoor with the stealth only one of his kind could muster.

Erica froze as she heard the quiet snick of the hammer of a gun being slid back with the pad of someone's thumb and a round fill an empty chamber. As kids, Uncle Alexander demanded that they learn how to shoot and attend courses in gun safety. That sound, the cold heart stopping sound of metal whispering against metal was one she'd never forget. That sound had scared her to death and been the source of endless nightmares ever since that class.

Torr eased around the corner, testing the air with his nose, crouched on the balls of his feet, ready to attack. He was limited as anybody else in this form. His human form was weaker, but safer than his wolf form and he was a good enough aim to slow an intruder down without killing him. He couldn't say the same for his wolf. With his wolf, all bets were off. There wouldn't be enough left of the body to be identified. "Erica?"

The breath left her lungs as Torr eased the hammer into place and flicked on the gun's safety. Her trembling hands gripped the picture frame clutched in her fingers, "Do you really know anybody in these pictures?"

Torr tucked the gun in the back of his pants and leaned heavily against the wall. "No. I got them from the thrift store on Main Street." He couldn't meet her eyes. The floor had never been so fascinating to him before. Maybe he needed a few extra throw rugs to break up the beige carpet?

Erica returned the picture to its place on the end table. "Why Torr? Why all the lies?" She noticed that he slid the gun down the back of his pants, not reassuring, but nothing to be alarmed about either. Only an idiot would leave a gun within easy reach of someone else. She had to respect that.

"What do you want me to say, Erica?" Torr asked stonily.

"I need the truth. I have just one question," Erica swallowed hard and drew a deep breath into her lungs. "Will Fallon be like you?"

Torr gritted his teeth and balled his fingers up into fists. There was only one answer to this question and absolutely no way to sugar coat the words. Erica was going to have to swallow this bitter pill without any help from him. "Yes."

"Oh my god." Erica gripped the back of the sofa, her legs suddenly too weak to support her weight. The burning of tears in the corners of her eyes was not an unfamiliar sensation. In the last few hours she'd had plenty of time to get used to their sting. "You knew from the very beginning didn't you? You knew that if you had children you could pass what you are to them. My God Torr! WHY! Shouldn't I have been involved in the decision too? Shouldn't I have known before I conceived a child what that child could turn out to be?"

"Would it have made a difference?" Torr ground out.

"How many other women have you done this to? How many women don't know what the children they love are going to grow up to be?"

"None. My father saw to that. Erica, I was young and rebelling. At the time, I was in denial. My kind doesn't have their first shift until their early twenties. Erica, I hoped... I prayed mine would never come."

"And it did."

"Yes, it did. By the time I met you I knew what I was. Damned into a life that I didn't want."

"You fought it didn't you."

"Yes. More than anything else, I just wanted to be normal. With you, I felt more normal than I ever had before. I was glad you left, because then I couldn't hurt you. My father and his men were hunting me, like the animal that I am. If I'd stayed, with you. If I'd tried to make contact, I would have led them straight to you. I couldn't take that chance. I protected you."

"Protected me? From what?"

"My father. Erica, I have no other children. Only Fallon. When my father finally dragged me back home. He took me to a house, not far from where we lived. The boy wasn't more than three years old. He was outside playing on his tricycle when a car jumped the curb and ran him down. Erica, that boy, that little boy was ran down like a dog in the streets. The car sped away from the scene before anyone had a chance to identify the driver. But, I knew who he was.

"There are very few purebloods left, so very few. My father only cared about one thing. One thing mattered to him more than his son or his grandchildren. His precious family line. The boy's mother was human as you. Erica, the boy had my eyes. He was my son."

"That's why you had the vasectomy, so it couldn't happen again."

"My father stole that little boy's life. In return, I took the only thing that he valued away from him. DNA. I am his only son. His pureblooded line dies with me."

Erica's world narrowed into specks of light. His father would have committed murder to keep his line pure. He would have taken her daughter away just as easily as he'd killed Torr's son. "Your father is dead."

"Yes. We wouldn't be having this conversation if he weren't. I wouldn't have risked you or Fallon for anything. I had to keep you both safe. You're all I have in this world. You mean everything to me."

"Torr, how did your father die?"

"Erica, you don't understand my world. Or at least how it was while my father was alive. There wasn't any room for weakness or second best. Only the strong made it to fight another day. I've seen mothers and fathers forced to kill their children due to the slightest imperfection. I've seen brothers rip each other's throats out over nothing more than a scrap of rotting meat. Mating is forced. There is no love between a man and a woman, only necessity. I've stood by my father's right hand and watched while he forced others to bend to his rule. Erica, he had to die."

"You killed him didn't you?"

Torr dropped his eyes. "Yes. If I hadn't, he would have killed everyone you now call friend. Erica, Eloise's pack was torn to bits. If he'd found out about Nash and the northern pack. He would have gone after them next. If I hadn't stopped him when I did. No one would have been able to. He wouldn't have been content with being master of the wolves. The vampires, eventually, he would have found out about them too. He would have bid his time until he discovered their weakness and once he found it, he would have taken them out too. You know what that might have meant for the people you love."

Erica's fingers trembled and her breath hitched in her throat at the thought of what the vampire's greatest weakness truly was. Humanity. "How did you do it?"

"With flesh and blood, claw and fang. Wolf. To. Wolf. To the death, just him and me." Torr's chest heaved at the memory of the taste of his father's blood on his tongue. He'd never forget the smell of the smoke from the pyre he lit to deliver his father's soul to wherever souls as dark as his father's went.

"You regret killing him."

"I don't regret that he's dead. Don't deceive yourself on that part. I only regret that it took me so long and that so many had to suffer at his hand before I finally worked up the courage to end it."

Erica stretched out her hand to Torr. Gently cupping his cheek as he closed the distance between them. Torr's jaw was rough with stubble against her palm. "You're afraid you're going to be just like him." Anguished tears of pain and self-loathing dampened her fingers.

Torr grabbed Erica around the waist and pulled her close to his body. Her skin was so soft and warm against his face. He nuzzled her cheek with his mouth and inhaled all the goodness that was her. Letting it wash over him and cleanse away the agony deep in his soul. "I don't want to be."

"You're not." Torr's tears were breaking her heart. On the outside, he was cocky and arrogant, self-assured, as if he knew where each step would take him before he took it. She was seeing the man he hid, from everyone, including himself. He was just like everyone else. Fumbling his way through life as he hoped for the best. "What you did took courage. You killed your father because you had to. It would have been so much easier to look the other way, but you didn't. You did what you had to do to keep those around you safe. You sacrificed yourself for everyone else. You're a hero, not a killer."

"Hero? I murdered my father. He gave me life and I took his in exchange. Doesn't it make me bad that I don't regret that he's dead?"