Dawn Revealed

"You useless bastard!" Angel screamed in Bryce's face. She deflected Kayla the way someone might shoo fly at a family barbecue. Suspended from her fist around his throat, Bryce's feet dangled inches above the cabin's floor. His face was an odd shade, a cross between purple and fire engine red from the strangle hold she had on him. But, she had to give him credit. He took his ass beating like a man. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you force Kayla into a bond?"

"I didn't force her into anything." Bryce managed choked out between gasps for air. At least now he knew what he was getting his ass kicked for. Angel saw fangs, smelled blood and sex, and assumed the worst. He had a penis and that limited his usefulness as far as Angel was concerned. She didn't trust anyone, especially not men. And since he was a man, he was definitely on the bottom rung of her social hierarchy.

Kayla loosened her grip on Angel's bicep. It wasn't doing any good to stop her anyway. Kayla understood the source of Angel's rage. Bryce wasn't taking the beating Angel rained down on him. It was Roark, not Bryce Angel saw. Although, Bryce bore the brunt of sins he had no part of. Angel took out her fury and rage on Bryce instead of the man who truly deserved it. "Angel, Bryce didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to." Tears streamed down Kayla's reddened face. Frustrated by them, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Her night of her dreams had been turned into a nightmare. And as always, Roark was the cause for her pain. "Please, let him go. I love him."

Angel threw Bryce carelessly to the side as Kayla's words registered. "You wanted this? To be tied to him?" Turning her rage on Kayla, Angel grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Why? Why'd you do it? You just got rid of Roark. Kayla, we're finally free. And now you've made yourself a slave again. WHY? You love him?" she said, pinning Bryce with a hateful glare. Her fingers tightened around Kayla's upper arms and mercilessly squeezed the flesh. "You don't even know him."

"Angel let go!" Kayla whimpered. Angel's grip was so tight on her that felt as if the bones in her upper arms were going to shatter from the force. "You're hurting me!" She twisted helplessly, trying to free herself from Angel's hold. "Please!"

Bryce flung the full weight of his body at Angel. Knocking Kayla free from Angel's hold, Angel landed on the floor with a resounding thud. He took a protective stance in front of Kayla. She loved him. She said it and in front of witnesses. She. Loved. Him. He couldn't be happier and would have been Julia Andrewsing it all over the place, if not for Angel glowering up at him. Kind of made him wish he weren't such a good guy. But, wasn't that the story of his life? Always the good guy getting his ass kicked. He gave it back to Angel as good as he got. And had her wincing under the hardness of his glare. "I'm sorry we didn't bother to ask your approval first," he hissed.

Kayla dropped to her knees on the floor. A position she knew far too well and reached out for Angel's hand. "Bryce, Lance, could you leave us alone for a few minutes? Please?" The guys didn't want to go. They did though. Leaving her alone with Angel. They'd hear every word Angel and she said to one another. But, it was nice to have the illusion of privacy.

Tonight, Angel had proven how dangerous she could be. And for the first time since her exodus from Roark, Kayla realized how tenuous her life truly was. It was one thing to know you could die. Everyone died. Everyone knew their time was coming. Eventually. Someday. And it was another thing all together to be faced with your own mortality. One wrong flick of the wrist or misguided punch and Angel could have killed her.

Kayla hated that Angel was hurting so deeply. Angel had been with Roark but a fraction of the time that Kayla had. But, her wounds were still fresh, deep and angry, raw and festering. They never spoke about their days at the master's feet. After all what was there to talk about? No amount of rehashing the past would ever make it any better, change it, or erase it. And all it would do would cause them pain. The both of them had their fill of pain.

"Angel, I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what to say. Bryce and I...this has nothing to do with you." Not knowing if it was the right move or not. So desperate for the contact, she reached for Angel's hand. Angel's skin was cool, her fingers trembling. But, to Kayla's surprise, Angel didn't pull away. Angel stared at her with those bottomless dark eyes, her expression fathomless and unreadable. "I'm scared to death of it. But, I love him," Kayla said.

Angel swam in the depth of Kayla's teary blue eyes. Drowning in the saline wash of her fear and her joy. She envied Kayla her happiness. Infuriated that Kayla had managed to escape all that Roark was with barely a scratch on her soul. Angel wondered if there was something wrong with her that she couldn't slip his grasp so easily. "How did you do it? Move on? Forget?" She asked the question on a breathless whisper.

"I haven't," Kayla answered. "I don't think I ever could. Ever will. He took so much from us, Angel. Why would I let him take Bryce away from me too? Roark can't have all of me. I won't allow it. I know he's out there. And he won't be satisfied till somebody dies. If it's me, it's me. But, until then, till my last breath, my life belongs to me. I'm not going down without a fight. And living is the only way I know to do that. Not being alive. But, living. Truly living."

Angel dropped Kayla's hand and scrambled to her feet. Kayla made it sound so easy. Moving on. Not forgetting but not living in the memory every single second of every single day. Doing...something better...something worthy, like love. Kayla in love...didn't that have a nice, hopeful ring to it. Her eyes shifted to the closed door where Bryce and Lance stood on the other side pretending not to eavesdrop.

She wiggled her fingers, her knuckles cracking as the bones she'd broken on Bryce's face healed. Angel supposed she should feel worse about that than she did. It'd been a nice fantasy to pretend she wasn't alone in her suffering. That Kayla endured the unspeakable along with her. Apparently, she was on her own in her private hell. But, who wasn't? There were over eight billion people on the planet and each and every one of them wandered through a purgatory of their own making. Misery loved company and she had it in abundance.

Kayla sat on the floor with her knees tucked under her chin, looking every bit the adult child she'd pretended for so many years to be. Roark would have killed her. He still might. Kayla wanted love. Thought it was the answer to her prayers and the end of her nightmares. Angel was content to let her have at it. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Lance leaned on the porch rail. For all its changes over the years no one had bothered to replace the weathered railing and he wondered if it would crack under his weight. He pretended not to overhear Kayla and Angel's heart to heart talk. He really didn't want any drama in his life. But, like always, Bryce seemed to drag him into the thick of it. Now would be a good time to tell Bryce he had the engagement ring meant for Janine tucked away in a safe place. But, the ring was a bitter reminder of the whole loved and lost thing. And no, loving and losing was not better than not loving at all. Nobody knew that better than Bryce. Maybe, later would be better. When he was sure Bryce hadn't set himself up for failure again.

Bryce paced the postage stamp sized porch. Walking back and forth, left to right in a square, he fought the urge to strut his stuff like a proud peacock. She. Loved. Him. Loved. Him. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the idea. This time it was for real. The. Real. Deal. Yeah, his face was still sore. Hurt like the bitch slaps Angel had laid on him. But, it was worth getting his ass kicked by a girl to hear those words out of Kayla's mouth. Angel could slap him anytime she wanted as long as Kayla said those three words and meant them. He cracked his neck to work out the stiffness and with all the male one-up-man-ship he could muster, threw back his shoulders.

Lance had a string of women in the city. And not a one of them measured up to Kayla in any way, shape, or form. Lance fucked for fucking's sake, man whore that he was. And Bryce had envied him for it at the time. He didn't look at Lance's love or lust life the way he used to. What was an endless string of one-night stands and empty promises compared to what he had with Kayla?

Bryce stopped his pacing long enough to exchange a smirk and a fist bump with his best friend. Lance could have his string of women. And more power to him. Bryce had finally found what Lance could only feign for the length of time it took to work up a sweat and speak the lies that landed the 'special of the night' in the sack. Bryce glanced at the closed door. Imagining the woman behind it. And it wasn't Angel he was thinking of, but Kayla. Always Kayla.

Bryce scrubbed his hand through his hair and exhaled a heavy breath. He was getting way ahead of himself. Again. Who in the hell was he to think about a happily ever after when the very real possibility that Kayla's life was still on the line? He hadn't forgotten. He'd never forget. Roark was still out there. Plotting something. This wasn't over yet. Kayla had already given him more than he deserved with the gift of her body and her heart. He would hold it safe, or die trying. He had no right to push or to ask anything more of her.

Lance studied his best friend, seeing the inner turmoil written all over his expression. They'd spent decades together patrolling the city. Their friendship was casual. Often they spoke without saying a word, like now. They didn't need words to follow the paths of their minds. Oh, sure they had their secrets and their fair share of arguments. But, at the end of the day, they had one another's backs. That's the way their friendship worked. He wished he had something to say, some wisdom to impart. But, he didn't. What was there to say? It was too soon for congratulations. And the whole 'glad you finally got laid' spiel would cheapen whatever had happened, whatever might happen, between Bryce and Kayla. Lance shrugged his shoulders and Bryce returned the gesture. Leaving Lance glad they'd had this chance to man speak.

The door jerked open, squealing on its damaged hinges and shuddering in the broken frame. Angel stormed through the doorway, kicking chunks of splintered wood out of her way with the toe of her boot. She marched across the porch. Avoiding another wicked right hook to his healing face, Bryce jackknifed out of the way. Angel pretended not to notice as she stomped down the steps, elbowing Lance out of her path. She didn't bother looking behind her as she ran into the night. Darkness she understood. Running was her redemption.

"I'd better go check on her," Lance said. He left Bryce with his hopes and happiness and melted into the night to chase, as he always did, after his dark angel.

Chapter 29

Angel ran through the woods. Not really caring in which direction she ran, as long as it was away. Ashamed of her behavior, hot tears of embarrassment rolled down her cheeks. She'd busted in on the love nest and acted like a raving lunatic. Angel couldn't believe she had Bryce pinned to the wall by the throat and he did nothing but take the abuse he didn't deserve. He could have done much worse and probably should have. At least then she would have felt vindicated on some level for hurting him. She deserved it for attacking him the way she had.

What in the hell was wrong with her? His blood stained her stiff knuckles. She'd rushed in there thinking he was hurting Kayla. And the only one that had caused any pain was she. It had to be embarrassing for him to stand there and let her inflict that kind of damage on his face. But, he'd done it...for Kayla's sake. Bryce had a code of honor. Not even an undeserved beating could break. She wouldn't have been nearly so forgiving if the tables were turned. Even now, after Kayla and her little talk, she had her doubts on if either one of them would truly forgive her.

Kayla was an adult and could do whatever she pleased. And if she wanted a bond with Bryce, so be it. She was the one acting like a certifiable nut job, not Kayla. Angel dropped to the ground. Surrounded by the pungent scent of pine needles and crisp promise of fall, she drew her knees to her chest and tore at her hair in frustration. She had no idea where she was. And it didn't matter. If Roark came out of the darkness right now and killed her, he'd be doing her a kindness. She was beyond fucked up. By her past. By her present. Her future clouded by nightmares she couldn't even begin to overcome. Death would be preferable in so many ways. She should have just let him end her. Wasn't that what the brotherhood did to insane vampires? Wasn't that the reason they'd hunted her in the first place? Do the world a favor and put her out of her misery?

Kayla was the one that was free. Angel was the one that was so irreparably screwed up. Her memory replayed vivid images. Although it wasn't real, she could still feel his cold hands mercilessly snaking up her body, touching her. Violating. Her. Angel's skin prickled at the recollection of his breath rolling across her body before he drove his fangs into her flesh and drank. And the things he made her do, she did willingly, out of fear of all the ways he could make her suffer if she didn't meet his demands.

Kayla said she hadn't forgotten one second with Roark. That she'd never forget. She'd chosen not to let him win. Forced her life to move forward. How? Was love capable of such a feat? Did it really over come all? Angel doubted she'd have the strength for love. And even if by some miracle she did manage to find it. Who would want damaged goods like her? Was she even capable of physical contact on such an intimate level anymore? Was she even brave enough to try?

It was unfair. Kayla had always been the stronger one. Roark's favorite toy and he'd done things to her that Angel didn't want to think about. But, for all his punishment and abuse, he'd never managed to break her. Angel wouldn't have lasted nearly as long suffering Roark's affections as Kayla had. She wouldn't have been brave enough to endure it. And the only reason she'd done what she did that night was to save her own skin.

She'd figured either way she was dead. When she came home empty handed, Roark would have given her to the guard to play with. She just couldn't condemn another human being to suffer. It was better to die in a desperate act of self-preservation than to die at Roark's hands. But, she'd surprised even herself when her plan played out and she survived. Died. But lived. Sort of. Yeah, she was the original psychotic living dead girl.

At first, she'd been so focused on making Kayla pay for what Angel perceived as wrongdoing. Roark exacted his pound of flesh out of her, not Kayla. She suffered. Not Kayla. And she wanted to make Kayla pay for every lash of Roark's belt across her skin; every welt and bruise he'd inflicted on her; every violation he'd committed; and every tear she'd cried in secret. In her thirst for vengeance, she'd almost gotten an innocent girl killed. Keene's Lori, his salvation, his exodus from his bitter past, had almost paid the ultimate price. The brotherhood, especially Bryce, saved her from making a terrible mistake that night. And how had she repaid him? By barging in on something she had no business butting into and beating the shit out of him.

"Damn," she hissed. This little mental trip down memory lane sure as hell didn't help her feel any better. She was fucked up. Angrily, she wiped at the fat, bitter tears rolling down her cheeks with the pads of her fingers and pulled herself onto her feet. Physically, she was free of Roark. He couldn't hurt her. But, he'd already done his worst. He didn't have to touch her to cause harm. His sadism knew no limits. All she had to do was remember and it was just as bad as any beating, any blow, he'd ever given her.

Lance hung back in the thick of the tree line and gave Angel her privacy. She huddled on the ground curled up in a tight ball with her thighs pressed to her chest. The best thing for her was to let her cry it out. Ok, so maybe it was the best thing for him to let her cry it out. He was a dramaphobe. A woman's tears were worse than a kick in the gut as far as he was concerned. The Mr. Fix It, male in him wanted to snatch her off the ground, wind her in his arms, and promise, whether it was true or not, that everything would be ok. He didn't though. Angel hated anyone thinking she was weak. She saw her pain and tears as vulnerability instead of the badge of her courage they were. She'd hate his sympathy. And out of shame and embarrassment for getting caught crying, she'd probably kick his ass.

He allowed her a moment of pride and waited until she stood before he slid out of the trees to approach her. "You ok?" he asked gently. Lance shifted his weight awkwardly. Wincing from the tears shimmering in her eyes. Angel tried to hide them. But, they both knew better. He'd love to offer her a sympathetic ear. He kept his mouth shut and fell in step silently beside her. He could talk about the benefits of titanium blades all day. But, the emotional stuff, not his forte.

Angel didn't have the strength to push Lance away. Scare him off. She'd start bawling again if she breathed a single word. Probably end up in his arms seeking whatever comfort she could find there. She appreciated his awkward silence. He was one of those men that wanted to fix things when they were broken. She could see it in the way he looked at her. Luckily, he understood, she was beyond fixing and made no attempt to talk.

Lance knew Roark's reputation with the ladies, especially the human ones. The fact that Angel escaped with her life intact still amazed him. From what he'd heard, most women didn't. He could only guess at what was going on in that frenzied space in her head. "Ah, Anna has...Anna...maybe you should talk to her." He ran his hand though his hair and grimaced at his lack of verbal grace. "Yeah, Anna would be good to talk to."

He simply couldn't bring himself to tell Anna's private business to anyone. Somehow, he doubted Angel would take him up on the offer anyway. She wasn't ready to speak of her past. But, Anna, if Angel wouldn't talk to Kayla, was a good choice. She'd been through what Kayla and Angel had. As a kindred spirit and a survivor, she'd understand. Roark had forced Anna into a bond with him and amused himself for weeks by playing with her mind. He violated her most sacred space, her head. He mind raped her and forced her to participate in his sick games, for no better reason than to invoke revenge on brotherhood.

Anna was the reason he was stuck in the boonies. Roark deserved to pay for what he'd done to Anna with his life. Blowing up his lair had been nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Too bad, Dane hadn't seen it that way though. He'd pulled Lance and his partners in crime out of the city and reassigned them to the sticks. Other than the whole local women were off limits rule, which forced him into celibacy, Lance hadn't minded Dane's punishment. It was good to be home.

"I don't need to talk to anybody," Angel said with more gruffness than she'd intended. Dusting the loose pine needles off her jeans she lifted her chin in determination. Roark had enough of her headspace. Damned if she'd give him any more. "Shouldn't we get back on patrol?" She stomped into the woods ahead of Lance. Leaving him behind so that she wouldn't have to see the expression of pity on his face. Pity was the last thing she needed. The last thing she'd ever want.