Dawn Released

He'd never asked Carter his age. Hadn't really considered how old the vampire crouched uncomfortable in the few shadows cast from the spindly cover of trees and brush truly was. The power radiating off Carter was different in feel and flavor than that of Drew's or the brotherhood's, even different than that of the original Great White Wolf's had been. Carter's was a darker, colder energy. Sometimes, Carter forgot himself. He'd let something slip, a gesture, an accent, or sometimes, just a word thrown in here and there, time had long ago forgotten.

Carter was fucking old, Nash knew that much. The man predated Nash's family line, perhaps by centuries. Maybe, living to be as old as Carter probably was, was not a good thing. Sure, the body could exist far beyond its original expiration date, but possibly, the human part of a man, the mind and soul, could not. Perhaps, death was a comfort, in a way. Knowing that, eventually, life would end was a solace to a very weary heart.

Nash studied Carter's face. The bastard was beautiful. Even smudged with dirt and with his mouth drawn into a fierce scowl, Carter had a draw few men possessed. His face, however, free from the marks of the passing of time, was deceptive. The predator beneath that showy façade of masculine beauty was barely tamed and on a very short chain. He wondered exactly what Carter's story was and then put the thought out of his mind. Wasn't his business. Carter was a deep well that ran cold as ice and Nash got the distinct impression that few got past that icy exterior to feed the flames within his frozen heart, but somehow, Shayla had.

"I don't," Carter stated curtly. Nash was too observant for his own good. Luckily though, the wolf kept his opinions and his observations to himself. Nash saw too much. Things Carter would rather the man didn't see. Lines of fatigue stretched out from the corners of Nash's eyes and mouth. The man was built like a tank, brawny and muscular, yet with a lithe, almost liquid grace. Sometimes, the evidence of Nash's great lineage still held Carter in awe. He could see so much of Drew in the man and his sons, his grandsons, and the distant relation of the pack. What a thing it truly must be to have such ties to the past, the present, and to the uncertain future.

Carter envied the wolves as much as he pitied them. The wolves had such faith in their purpose here on this earth and in whatever dwelled beyond. He'd never held such convictions. He had no belief in other than what he saw and touched. They believed they lived on after death and that the spirit wolf within them would be joined with another. Carter could not imagine being two halves of the same whole, sharing his body with anything, and he had no consolation that any sort of an afterlife waited for him. When he died, finally. That was it. Game over. He'd be nothing but ash, forgotten. Some consolation prize, given how long he'd existed as this...thing...that he was.

The wolves would sacrifice their lives for their faith and for one another. He had no ties binding him to anyone. Only the blood flowing through his veins held him to this plane He'd seen so much in his long life and still he kept on living. He envied the pack's ties through family and blood as much as he pitied them. Nash would be dust in his grave by the time Carter sprouted his first gray hair. Carter envied that as well. Nash could change, could die. While he, could not. The pack had the gift of death and the blessing of the passing of time. Carter marked the days, one after the other, in terms of decades and centuries. It'd never occurred to him before his dealings with the pack that he might very well outlive every one of them by, not centuries, but millennia and that was both pitiable and enviable.

"The woman is critical to our mission. If she fails, so do we, and I don't accept failure as an option," Carter said. He was so full of shit and Nash knew it. He liked to pretend it was a side effect of sharing her emotions that drew out the protective nature roaring within him at the thought of someone hurting her.

In his time he'd had more than his share of conquests and the whole sum of them equaled zero. Afterward, they were tossed aside. Not worth remembering. Shayla was not prey to pursue or a woman to conquer and toss aside. She was someone worth remembering. She needed protecting from the evils of the world and unfortunately, that meant he was at the top of the list of evils she needed protected from. He was the worst of the worst. A predator in its purest form and there was almost nothing he would not consume. "It would appear that we have nothing to do but sit and wait till nightfall," Carter huffed. The sun was high above and nightfall was a long, long time to wait. He wouldn't be at ease until he had Shayla on the other side of the fence and she was safe once again.

Nash shifted his weight and tried to get comfortable. He hated cooling his heels and doing nothing. At this point, he had little choice. The damned fence was electrified and the grounds were crawling with guards. If he stormed the fence, he'd be barbecued. If he went in with guns blazing, he would do nothing but condemn all of them to an undoubtedly grizzly fate that would make getting electrocuted by the fence look like a party. He had to get to Eloise and the others, but he wasn't a fool. Trying without a good plan would get him in, but it wouldn't get anybody out.

His life, the lives of his pack depended on the vampire. Strange that. The only living, well sort of living in Carter's case, being he shouldn't trust with his life circumstance had forced him to trust with everything he held dear. Carter was an enigma he'd rather not think about anymore. He closed his eyes and stretched out on the hard ground. "Carter, don't do anything stupid," he warned.

Somehow, Nash had the suspicion that if he fell asleep Carter would be over that fence and rushing into danger on some suicide mission to save the day. If for no other reason than to rescue Shayla from whatever he'd picked up from their link. No, the cold, stoic vampire was definitely not the man he appeared to be on the exterior. Nash grinned beneath the wide brim of the hat he'd pulled over his eyes. How well he knew what Carter was feeling. He'd rush in too, to save Eloise, if Carter wasn't there to stop him.

Carter shrank into the shadows made thinner by the noonday sun. Necessity kept his ass planted in the dirt. He hated this growing sensation of duty, kinship, and brotherhood bursting his cold heart at the seams. Somewhere along the way, this pack master, hell, the pack itself, the Sons, the Guardians, and Shayla, little, delicate Shayla had worked their way in. He'd felt this kind of devotion to another once before and it'd cost him his human life. For so long he'd lived just to get back at Eric. Driven by the hatred that welled inside of him, he'd forgotten the true meaning of life. How good and how damnably bad it could be. "I never do, wolf. I never do."



Chapter 36

Eloise grew increasingly edgy as the day dragged on. Her emotions were barely in check. Fogged by the drug-induced hormone surges of the heat. Rage, fury and anger built like an approaching storm only to be followed by gut wrenching depression and humiliating, uncontrollable crying jags leaving her a boneless heap of nothing on the floor. Her body flashed with sparks of fever and lust. The ache between her thighs was a dull pressure growing stronger and stronger with every passing second. She'd abandoned her bra and wore a loose shift to ease the tenderness of her swollen nipples. The silk felt good and cool against her heated skin. Sweat bloomed on her brow from the hormone surges. She could smell the musk of her mounting desire thickening in the air. There wasn't much time left before she was helpless to the demands of her body.

Nash was close by. His presence should soothe her, but all it did was make her angrier. How could he risk himself and his grandson, hell every wolf and vampire in the north, for her? How could he do something so stupid? She wasn't worth it. The best she could hope for was that he would realize the futility of his situation and haul ass back to his pack. Not likely, considering his grandson was trapped in Seff's web as well. Even if he realized that he'd never be able to free her, he wouldn't leave Tristen behind.

Her eyes fixed on the turning knob. Great, the situation just kept getting better and better, she thought as Seff entered the room flanked by his goons. The guards weren't even suitable omegas. They were nothing but a bunch of puppets that he controlled. She scrambled to her feet, holding her ground as he sniffed the evidence of her condition and raked his eyes over her body.

"Good. I see my medical staff is worth keeping alive after all." Seff strolled into the room and withdrew a syringe out of his pocket. The onset of the heat surged through Eloise's body. He could smell the musk of her exuding from every pore. He could not stand the sight of her, but he was a male first and foremost. Driven by primitive instincts that lurked in the darkest recesses of his brain. She smelled like sex and heady lust and his shaft hardened in response to that delectable aroma.

"Eloise, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. What'll it be?" Seff asked as he uncapped the syringe. The guards fanned into a semi-circle around him, waiting for him to give the word. He hoped she'd fight, just to keep the game interesting. He was not disappointed as she lunged for him. Her fingers formed into claws to gauge his eyes out. He easily sidestepped her as his guards dove in for the tackle. "Remember Torr. I don't need him, Eloise. I really don't. He's nothing to me. Up to you if he lives to see moonrise or not."

"You bastard!" Eloise bucked beneath the guards' combined weight pinning her down. Powered by the heat raging inside her body, she almost managed to free herself. The guards held her fast, face first into the deep pile of the carpet. The fibers burned against her sensitive cheeks as she struggled beneath them. Barely registering the pinch of the needle as Seff sealed her destiny, she winced at the burn of the medication.

Seff cupped Eloise's cheek and smiled at her with a smug knowing smile. "By tomorrow you'll be much more receptive. You'll be begging for me to touch you."

Eloise twisted her face out of his grip. "Are you sure you're man enough to do the job? I have my doubts." She lifted her chin and spat in his face and was rewarded by a hash and heavy slap across her cheek. The blow stunned her and left stars swirling in and out of her vision.

"Bitch." Seff stiffened as he rose to his feet and stormed out of the room. She should know better than to provoke him by now. After she'd served her purpose and the child was born. He had the perfect place for her, on his platform decaying and left for the buzzards to devour.

Eloise didn't bother getting up when the guards finally released her. They took turns finishing what Seff had started, leaving her battered and bruised, curled up in a little ball on the floor. Her wolf would mean Torr's death and she'd rather endure the battering than cause him harm. Helpless didn't begin to define how she felt. She no longer had the energy for rage. Revenge no longer fueled her. She was empty and broken. She forced her good eye to open, dizzily staring at the blurry pair of tennis shoes rushing across the carpet. "Shayla."

Shayla gasped in horror at the disheveled and beaten condition of her mistress. She didn't have much power around here, but she had enough to shoo the guards out of the room. "Oh Mistress, what have they done to you?" Shayla sat the tray on the bed and rushed to Eloise's side. Tears welled to the corners of her eyes as she took in the bruises and cuts on her mistress's tender skin. Gripping her under the arms, Shayla helped Eloise to her feet and eased her broken body onto the edge of the bed. "Let me help you get cleaned up." Shayla glowered at the guard, daring him to interfere. Gently, she steered Eloise into the bathroom and slammed the door in the guard's face.

Cold water filled the sink, drowning out Shayla's whispers. She leaned close to Eloise's ear. "Tonight. I don't know how, but we're getting you out of here, you and Torr both. There are a handful of us still faithful to you, Mistress." She dipped a washcloth underneath the tap and dabbed at the blood crusting in the corner of Eloise's mouth.

Tears rolled down Eloise's cheeks. The salt from her tears stung the tiny cuts and wounds as they rolled down the curve of her face and dripped from her chin. The tears were stained pink as they mixed with her blood and fell into the sink. She grabbed Shayla's wrist tightly. "Don't. Save yourself and the others. It's too late for me, but not for you. Get out whoever you can and don't worry about me."

Shayla rinsed the rag and dabbed at the trail of tears on Eloise's cheeks. "Mistress, we have help. A Pack Master from the north and a vampire has come to our aid. They're here for you."

"Nash is here? Kacie?"

"Yes, and your omegas as well. Please, try not to worry. We'll figure this out and come for you." Shayla smiled reassuringly at Eloise. The worst of the wounds were clean. Eloise was bruised and swollen, but she would heal quickly.

"What of Torr?"

Shayla bit her lip, worried about how much to tell Eloise. "He is alive. Seff is holding him in the basement. Mistress, I can't stay here any longer otherwise the guards will get suspicious." She wrung out the rag and turned off the water. Wrapping an arm around Eloise's waist and guided her to the chaise lounge and set the tray down beside her. "Mistress, will you eat? You need your strength."

"Maybe later." Eloise rested her head on the plush upholstery and closed her eyes.

Gently Shayla took a throw off the bed and spread it across Eloise's legs before she left the room. She nodded to the guard and whispered thanks. Encouraged when the guard returned the nod and resumed staring stoically ahead. The guard was not of her pack, but one of Seff's homegrown army of terror. Yet, he'd allowed her to help her mistress. Maybe, there were more like him. Secretly hating what their Pack Master was.

In times like these it was hard to know who an enemy was and who could be trusted as a friend. Sometimes, they were one in the same. Shayla rushed to put Seff's supper together and serve it to him before the clock struck five. She was anxious to get back to the fence and be done with this place. She had no idea of exactly how Nash planned to get Eloise and Torr out. She only knew that time was a precious commodity and that it was running in very, dangerously short supply.

Tristen was simply exhausted. He had been put through his paces today, sparring with the recruits and a few of the guards, running obstacle courses and crawling through the mud on his belly. He had managed to learn a few things during his time here. He knew where the weapons were stored. He had a rough head count of the guards. And he had learned that there was nothing considered too low for them to do to achieve the goals of their master. Including murder, if the situation called for it.

"Hey man. You getting in line for chow?" A guy not much younger than him asked as he kicked at Tristen's cot. The kid, and yes, although they were roughly the same age, the guy was still very much a kid. Fresh faced and eager to find his place in this new order that had been forced on him, and so damned innocent and clueless, it made Tristen's teeth ache.

The guy was awkward and gangly without any of the wolf's grace and natural agility. His wolf had not yet come to him. There was still time to save this kid from Seff. The kid had been standing in line behind him during the draft into Seff's service. Hand picked by the master himself. He'd warned him about keeping his shirt down. So, Tristen figured he kind of owed him. The kid was probably a year younger than he. Self-consciously scrubbing his hand over the military buzz cut he along with the rest of the recruits had received earlier.

"Nah. I'm too tired to eat. I'm going to sack out early tonight." Tristen planned to case the joint while the others were eating supper. Figure out a way into the main house and to Eloise. He'd seen her standing in the window. Close enough to tease, yet far enough to still be out of his reach.

He ran a hand over his own bristly haircut, mimicking the kid's gesture. His hair had been the first thing to go. It'd grow back, assuming he got out of this mess alive. At least, now, he looked a little more like everyone else. Eloise's pack, decades of genetic engineering had paled out the traits so apparent in Tristen and with his long black hair, russet skin, and dark eyes, he stood out a little too much. The olive drab fatigues and new hairdo that identified him as a recruit had helped him to blend in. All he needed to do was to get his hands on a guard's uniform and one of those nifty rifles and then maybe, he'd be able to sneak inside. "You mind if I eat your chow?" the kid asked.

"Suit yourself," Tristen shrugged. The kid returned the shrug and headed to the mess hall, leaving Tristen sprawled out on his cot, alone. Tristen had to question his sanity. Was he really going to try to swipe a uniform and a rifle, and make a go for the Grand Manor? Of course he was. His kid brother had accused him of being a dumb ass more than once and yeah, maybe Daniel was right. He was pretty damned stupid to be even thinking about going inside. Once the makeshift barracks were empty, he hopped off the cot and beat feet for the door.

Shane stomped through the neat row of olive drab tents. The quarters were quiet. Most of the boys were at supper. Gulping down all the food their stomachs could hold. He shook his head in dismay. He knew the moment he followed Seff here things were going to go south. He just hadn't guessed how bad they would get or the lengths that Seff would go to control this pack.

Eloise had done very well managing those under her rule. The pack was healthy and strong and at first, put up quite a bit of resistance to Seff's presence and claim as Pack Master. That had changed after the first execution on Seff's platform. He would have never foreseen that his Pack Master would stoop to murder to stake his claim on these people. He'd always known Seff was ruthless and capable of it, but he'd never thought Seff would go that far. There was something here. Something Seff wanted that went beyond his claim of Pack Master. But, what?

Eloise's territory was larger than Seff's. When butted back to back, combining Eloise's lands with his gave Seff control of the lower portion of south Texas. The land was flat and barren. Game scarce. Not much here besides useless scrub and acres of spindly trees and rock. What did Seff hope to gain? Was he really so power hungry and ruthless that ultimately he'd get the title of King of Nothing? Because before it was all over, Shane feared that nothing was all there would be left to rule. These people were bending, but they were far from broken. It was just a matter of time.

Seff sickened Shane. He had followed Seff loyally for decades and had planned to serve him for the rest of his days. Until he stood and watched Seff murder Ramon in cold blood. Seff had the guards work the man over until Ramon's blood, stained the wood red. He had seen Seff's version of discipline before. And while it disturbed him, the person always walked away. Not this time. Seff had stood there at point blank range and put a bullet in the man's skull. The man's death was nothing more than a mindless execution intended to gain control of the people he meant to rule. That's when Shane realized it had to end and joined the opposition. Seff had to be stopped before he killed them all.