Dawn Redeemed

It was hot and her aunt and uncle's frugality was not about to give anytime soon. Why have air conditioning if you weren't ever going to use it? Who was she to complain? At this point, she didn't know if she was going to go to work in the morning or not.

A chillingly haunting howl stilled the incessant chirping of the crickets and the bellowing, throaty noise of bullfrogs. She knew whose voice it was and the meaning of the non verbal message it carried. Torr was out there, singing his wolf song, for her. She didn't want to hear it. Not tonight. Despite the heat she slammed the window closed, sandwiching her head between the pillows, trying to shut him out.

Chapter 98

"Want me to bring you up some breakfast?" The sound of Ruby's voice made his head hurt worse than it already did. So...this is why he never drank. No telling who he might wake up next to. Her nails gently nipped at his skin as she raked them over his bare chest. They didn't. Last night he'd been so drunk. There was no way he could have.

Groaning, he sat on the edge of the bed, shaking her off him like a tick on a hound dog. "Please, go away. I can't deal with you this morning." He didn't know which was worse. The cold Ruby that could have cared less whether he ate or not or this new and improved Ruby who lived to serve his every whim. At least with the old Ruby, he knew what to expect. This new version...he didn't have a clue.

"Hanning, I'm just trying to prove myself to you. I really want us to work." The sheets rustled as she slid across the bed and massaged the tight muscles at the back of his neck. Nervously, she bit the inside of her cheek, thinking of something she could do. So far, he had yet to budge an inch and time was of the essence. "How about a picnic this afternoon. Just the three of us. Evan needs to see his mommy and daddy working together to get along."

Hanning gulped down the glass of water and aspirin that she'd left on his nightstand the night before. Obviously, she wasn't going to give up and go away. "Sure, sounds like fun," he said. His voice dripped with sarcasm. He saw no point in pretending to be mommy and daddy in a united front for the benefit of his son. The sooner Evan got used to the idea that his parents weren't together the easier it'd be for him to accept it. She wanted to play act, but she'd been pretending for years. Why would that change now?

"Oh, it will be. I promise. I'll just go check on Evan while you sneak in a nap." Ruby was off the bed in a flurry. She had so much to do before noon and if she was going to give Evan a bath and make her infamous cookies that Hanning loved so much. She had to get started. "I'll see you later."

Hanning collapsed on the pillows as Ruby gently closed the door behind her. Blessed peace at last, he sighed. He just wanted a nap. He couldn't think beyond the throbbing in his temples or the taste of stale beer on his tongue. Ruby's scent was all over the bedding. He shoved her pillow off the bed and rolled over onto his side to escape the smell of her.

Once upon a time, he trusted that gentle scent. To him, the scent was the smell of home and family. It made him heartsick for happier times when he still had a wife that he thought loved him. He could share his bed with Ruby and go on picnics everyday. But, the one thing he could not do was go back. The bigger question that would demand an answering in less than three weeks was whether could he go forward with her or would he move on alone?



Chapter 99

O'Sullivan lifted his face into the oncoming dawn and inhaled the smell of the waking world below him. The very air was filled with life and anticipation at the new day unfolding. The orange light of the sun was agonizing, but he couldn't bring himself to turn away. If there were one thing he begrudged humanity, it was this. Even the darkest among them had light. Humans were light, and warmth, and life. He was the scourge damned for eternity to pursue them, driven by hunger and need, to snuff that light out.

If he were a bigger man, a better vampire, he'd do his part for the greater good. Do something admirable to preserve the blazing glory of humanity's light. He wasn't a prophet or a seer. Amongst all vampires, the facts went unsaid. Humanity's light was dulling to a weak flicker. It was just a matter of time before that light went out for good.

Humans had come so very close to extinction more times than O'Sullivan could count. He'd walked this planet for centuries and he'd seen more than he'd ever care to admit or to remember, so much blood and death. Even as the Grim Reaper's right hand, the darkest side of humanity sickened him.

Humans poisoned the environment. They murdered one another with such zeal and enthusiasm. Hiding the truth of their bloodthirsty nature behind the banner of cause. Humans took their very lives for granted. Luckily, they multiplied with the same fervor as they killed. O'Sullivan stared down at the herd humans on the busy streets below, shuffling like cattle down a shoot on their way to the slaughter. He supposed, he was a true altruist. Only a fool would dig up the root to taste the fruit of the vine. O'Sullivan fed on those who were already dead and didn't know it yet. To be sure, he longed for something pure and untainted. Instead he reaped the rotted fruit before it could spread its disease and spoil the vineyard. The corrupt had a bitter taste. But, he ate well these days. America truly was a land of plenty.

Bianca glanced down at her highly polished nails and admired the dime sized sapphire stone glittering on her right ring finger. O'Sullivan had deep, deep pockets and if he couldn't get what he wanted by voluntary means. He could buy. Did he really believe she'd sell out her soul so cheaply? Hers was not an easy place to be. The Guardians were hers to protect. Sometimes, safety came at a high price. If O'Sullivan didn't believe her act, he'd slaughter them all. If The Sons learned of their involvement with O'Sullivan, her Guardians were as good as dead. How much longer did she think she could get away with playing both sides without either side finding out about the other? Hopefully long enough to get what she wanted.

"Shopping for tonight's supper?" Bianca sidestepped the garish glow of daylight and stayed deep in the protection of the neighboring building's shadow.

"Look at them down there, Bianca. Rushing about like little ants, for what? FOR WHAT?," O'Sullivan shouted into the din of the morning traffic. "They're already dead and they don't even know it. What can one accomplish in a mere handful of decades? Nothing, of true value I suspect" he said. Sweeping his hand over the silhouette of the city skyline in a wide gesture, he jealously squinted into the garish light of day. "Do you know what will be left when all of this rots away?"

"What?" Bianca stayed well out of Eric's reach. When he got in this mindset, O'Sullivan was capable of anything. A vampire was hard to kill, but not impossible. She didn't want to find out first hand if one of her kind could survive a fifty story drop onto cold pavement or not.

"Us."

Carter awoke in a cold sweat with a death grip on the sheets. He didn't sleep very often and when he did, the dreams were always the same. When he was awake, he could push the nightmare that had been his existence out of his mind. But, when he slept, the nightmares were always ready to play center stage behind his closed eyes. The horse's hoof beats pounded in his ears. The rider of the pale horse, Death, was coming...coming for him and those he loved.

Shayla plopped R.J. onto the rug to explore and gently ran a her fingers over Carter's forehead. He curled up into her, burying his face deeply in her stomach. His broad shoulders trembled with the effort of his labored, hitching breaths. "Carter, it was only a dream," she whispered, smoothing his sweat drenched tangles with her fingers.

"I'd die to protect you," Carter whispered. The fabric of Shayla's nightgown was cool and soft against his fevered cheek. He let her ease his head back on the pillows. Gently, she pried the sheets out of his fisted fingers. Her essence was like a cold drink of water to his parched soul.

"Shh," Shayla soothed. She massaged the deep worry lines furrowed across his forehead gently with her fingertips. "You had a bad dream." She sat on the side of the bed, balancing her attention between her men. R.J. was content to stare up at the ceiling and slobber on a rubber teething ring. Carter was beginning to relax with her gentle coaxing, "I can take care of myself."

Carter caught her fingers in his grip and brought them to his lips, gently planting a kiss on their smooth surface. The innocence of Shayla's statement stung. She had no idea what she was saying. What was worse was that he knew he'd fail. He couldn't protect her. Hell, he couldn't protect himself from the phantom that dwelled in the world of his nightmares.



Chapter 100

"Mom," Fallon mustered her strength and shook the edge of the bed as hard as she could. "Wake up." When her mom refused to stir, Fallon shook the bed even harder. "Mom!"

"What, Fallon, what?" Erica mumbled half awake. Her mouth was dry as cotton and her eyes heavy with sleep, or lack there of. The last time she remembered looking at the clock, it was a little after three in the morning. She rolled over in the bed and pried her eyes open to look at her daughter.

"I'm going to be late for school," Fallon wailed miserably. She had gotten herself dressed and brushed her hair without any prompting from her mother. Anything, just to earn the right to go to Marianne's today.

Erica sighed and hefted her legs over the edge of the bed. Fallon looked so grown up with her hair pulled back in a tight, curly ponytail at the nape of her neck and her pink backpack in her hand. There was a look of hesitant expectation in her eyes. "Honey, I don't think we're going today." She winced as Fallon's expression fell and her backpack dropped to the floor at her sneaker clad feet.

"Why?"

"I just need time to think, that's all." Erica twirled a loose curl at the base of Fallon's neck with a finger. Fallon pulled back out of her reach and scowled at her. Her daughter definitely wasn't happy with her. Wasn't the first time she'd reaped the little girl's scorn and probably wouldn't be the last.

"Are you scared?" Fallon asked.

"Aren't you?" Erica retorted.

Fallon thought about it and shook her head. Even before she knew the wolf was her dad, she wasn't afraid. She found all the strangers at Nash's house fascinating and their wolves beautiful and powerful. No, she wasn't afraid. She looked forward to the day when she'd grow up and turn into her own wolf. "I'm not scared."

Erica huffed at her daughter's response. Fallon was a little girl. As a kid, Erica remembered doing plenty of things that had put a gray hair or two on her mother's head. Kids had no fear. As a mom, she had enough for the both herself and for Fallon. "I'm not convinced the wolves aren't dangerous. What if one of them eats you? Then what would I do?"

"Mom," Fallon chuckled, "they're not going to eat me." Mid giggle, she stopped and frowned, "What about Dad? Are you afraid of him? When I grow up are you going to be afraid of me too?"

Erica stood and pushed past her daughter. "I need some coffee."

Alexander paused and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. It was going to be a hot one today. The sun had barely risen in the eastern sky and already the heat index was bouncing dangerously close to the one hundred degree mark. He patted the mound of dirt with the back of his shovel and stood back to survey his work. Thank God he got up before Erica this morning. The bloody remains of the rabbit left as a gift on the back porch stoop by an admiring wolf would have sent her head first into a panic. He was going to have to have a talk with that boy. The next time a present showed up on his doorstep. Torr could take care of it himself.

He slung the shovel over his shoulder and headed back to the barn. At least, the carcass hadn't been the neighbor's cat. Too bad. He'd been battling that cat for years. The furry little bastard crapped in his flower beds and sprayed his bushes with unfettered zeal. Once, he'd tried to pet the cat in an attempt to make friends. The little hellion almost took his arm off. Alexander paused to give Jack's nose a playful pat before he hung the shovel on its peg at the far end of the stall. If that wolf ever got that cat, he'd call Torr alright, not to make him bury the remains, but to thank him. Alexander chastised himself for thinking that way. But, he guessed, at heart, he was just more of a dog person.

Leigh arched her brows at the unspoken feud between mother and daughter. If the daggers they shot one another with their eyes were real. The fight would be a bloody one to say the least. Fallon slurped at a bowl of cereal noisily, glaring at her mother while Erica sipped primly at her coffee, pretending to ignore her daughter as she read the back of the cereal box. "Going to be in the hundreds today," Leigh said in amusement. Even if she were a betting woman, she wouldn't lay a dime on who was going to win this particular battle of wills.

Erica glanced away from the Pulitzer prize winning back of the cereal box she had been reading to her phone. The display indicated that she hadn't gotten any calls. Torr for once, was doing exactly as she asked and giving her time. "I've got to run into town today. Do you mind watching Fallon?"

"Not at all," Leigh answered.

Alexander washed the dirt from under his nails in the sink. He saw the dejected expression on Fallon's face as she dropped her spoon in her empty cereal bowl. "We'll have a great time kid. I'll turn on the air conditioner."

Fallon rolled her eyes and deposited her empty bowl in the sink. "May I be excused? I guess I'll go read since I'm not going to school today." Pouting, she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her shorts and stomped off to her room.

"Erica, are you sure you're doing the right thing?" Leigh asked gently.

"Aunt Leigh, I'm not sure of anything at this point," Erica answered as she poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and set the empty cup next to Fallon's used bowl. Her feet made whispering sounds against the worn kitchen floor as she shuffled off to change clothes and figure out exactly what she was going to do.



Chapter 101

"Hungry?" David asked his sister in an acidic tone loaded with sarcasm. He leaned against the bedroom wall watching Theresa disappear little by little and the predator emerge. The sound of their mother's slippers made a light whispering against the tile floor as she scurried about to fix breakfast. "How much longer are you going to try to keep up this charade? We can't stay here," he hissed.

Theresa gripped the sheets with white knuckles and breathed through her mouth in an attempt to avoid the alluring scent of human blood permeating the air. "You saw how happy she was to see you," she hissed in reply. She was so hungry it hurt. Hunger gripped her gut with an iron fist, doubling her over in the bed. "We just can't leave them."

"For their own good we have to. Theresa, get it through your thick skull. We aren't human, not anymore. We don't belong in their lives. To them, we are dead. We have to be. Being here places them in danger. We are killers, Theresa."

"I'm not."

David gave his sister a look of disgust at her stubborn refusal to accept the truth. White fangs peeked out from beneath her pale lips. Her body trembled with the effort she expended to stay firmly planted in the bed. "Not yet. But, you will. At first, we all do. Unless you want to visit their graves, sooner rather than later. We. Need. To. Go. Now."

"Wake up you sleepy heads," a cheerful voice called out as the doorknob turned. "I've got the coffee on and this morning...I'm making your favorite...b..r..." the voice choked out.

Theresa pinned the bony woman beneath the weight of her body and gripped her hair mercilessly, extending her neck to the side. Needle sharp fangs plunged through fragile skin and the sweet taste of blood flowed like a life giving river over her tongue. The woman struggled weakly against her hold. The predator knew no family loyalty. The predator had no respect for life. All the predator understood was blood and pain, delivered by a fatal kiss.

"Goddamnit!" David cursed, wrestling his mother from Theresa's greedy arms. They grappled for their mother like two dogs warring over a piece of meat. David bore his fangs and cradled his mother's limp body in his arms. He shuddered at the taste of fresh human blood as he smoothed his tongue over the bite wounds on her neck. The temptation of sweet life tickled the tip of his tongue. Glaring, he stared up at his sister. "I told you," he said in resignation, gently feeling his mother's pulse with his fingertips. She was still alive, in shock, but still alive. "We're no good."





Chapter 102

Erica balanced her tall, double shot, café mocha with extra whipped cream in her grip. The paper cup was inferno hot and singed the tips of her fingers. Gingerly, she took a sip and promptly seared her upper lip. She took a seat at the table closest farthest away from the cashier and stared idly at the row of buildings that lined Main Street. The world outside the immaculate plate glass window and cheerful red and white gingham print curtains was slowly beginning to awaken.

She reviewed her mental list of everything she knew about Torr, ticking away the items one by one. Torr was a killer. Not in a Ted Bundy serial killer kind of way. Nonetheless, he had taken a life. Torr was tormented by the memory of his father. Erica was not so stupid to think that evil did not exist. It did. And Torr's father was a prime example of how bad some people could be. When Torr said he had no other choice, she believed him. One less bad person in the world was a good thing, wasn't it?

Torr loved Fallon. Of that, Erica had no doubt. Even though their relationship was in the building stage, Torr loved his little girl and he'd always be there for her. Always, by Torr's simple explanation was going to be a long, long time.

She toyed with the edge of her napkin, tattering it to shreds with her fingernails. Always, wasn't that another question all in itself? She'd be dust in her grave about the same time Torr got his first gray hair. Couples were supposed to grow old together. Would he still want her when she aged, like a person was supposed to and he did not? Would she still want him as she watched her own body change while his did not? When people saw them together what would they see? She'd look like his grandmother instead of his wife. Talk about taking cougar to a whole new extreme.

Timidly, Erica brought the coffee cup to her lips and took a sip. Finally, the bitter sweet liquid inside was cool enough to drink. She was dancing around the bigger issue. The huge road block that made the other questions look like small pot holes by comparison. Torr was a werewolf. There was something inside of him. A wild, untamed, living entity that shared his skin. How much of who he was, was the wolf and how much was really him?

Obviously, he controlled the wolf, for the most part. That's what scared her the most. What about the little part he didn't control? The tiny piece that controlled him instead. Exactly how dominant was his wolf and if pushed too far, which part of him would win?

This endless speculation wasn't really getting her anywhere. The bottom line, that she already knew, was that she wouldn't keep Fallon from her father. They needed each other in some elemental way she could not understand.

She could make all the mental lists and accomplish nothing but coming up with more questions. She could try to rationalize all her excuses and all her reasons. But, she could never stay away from him. Cutting him out of her life would be like cutting off an arm or a leg, maybe even her head. She was drawn to him the way a moth is drawn to a flame. Battling with her sense of survival was as pointless as it was frustrating. She was in love and nothing was going to change that.