Dawn Revealed

At first Dane wasn't crazy about pairing Angel up with him. With anybody. She was still too unpredictable. The random wild card in the deck. Lance was certain she was on their side. After what she'd done for the Great Father, as far as he was concerned, there was no doubt of it. She belonged here. The tricky part might be to convince her of it.

She was unarmed, unprepared for the patrol. And part of that was his fault. He hadn't discussed the terms of Angel's employment with her. Lance really had no intention of making her pay him back for the clothes. He had money. More than he could spend. It wasn't like he needed to buy food or pay rent. And Janine was more than happy for any excuse to shop. With her around, clothing was not an issue. He'd done it. Bought Angel those sandals, the clothes, and the wind chime, just to see her smile with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. Of course, Angel had no idea how her smile lit her face and crinkled the corner of her eyes. How truly pretty she was...underneath the scowl. Just for that smile and no other reason, the purchases were worth every penny.

Angel liked pretty things. Somewhere beneath that outlandish hair dye, garish outfits, and her harsh expressions, her inner woman begged to be set free. Tonight, she was blessedly free of the pink dye, black ink around her eyes, and the way too revealing clothing. He liked her better like this. Natural. And the fact that barely an inch of skin showed was just icing on the cake. He really didn't want to gauge his brothers' eyes out for ogling her. And her lithe body was a feast for the eyes.

Yeah, he liked pretty things too. On her. And the matching lace and satin bras and panties he'd tossed on the counter weren't for Angel. Call him a guy. But, those frilly, skimpy items were for him. He envied the bra and panties. In his next life, he wanted to be a bra and panty set. Her bra and panty set. Even though he hadn't gotten the fashion show yet. Might not ever. He could just imagine her wearing them for him.

He hated sharing his mind with his brothers. The little trick had earned him more than his fair share of harassment. And he quickly squashed the thought of peeling those lacy numbers off of her with his teeth. Fell under the category of TMI. He already had a head full of what his brothers did in the bedroom with their wives. Definitely TMI. Traumatizing stuff. It had taken him months to get the mental picture of Will's wedding night out of his head. Candace had a pretty vivid imagination, needless to say. It was worse than the time Janine read Fifty Shades of Gray and came home with a silk tie and a bag full of things he didn't want to think about. The only saving grace for any of the brothers was that the walls were made of rock and soundproof.

Coaxing Angel to accompany him on the patrol route was not as difficult as he might have thought. All he had to do was to pretend it was her idea. Whenever she'd start to wander off in the wrong direction, he'd gently nudge her the way he wanted to go.

The woods were silent tonight. Still. Not a breath of wind rustled the branches of the trees. No insect or woodland critter made a sound. It was just the two of them and the soft crunch of their footsteps over the crisp layer of freshly fallen leaves. A soft mist crept over the ground, swirling around their legs. Clouds drifted across the midnight sky trekking across the moon. The cool air smelled of harvest and dense wood smoke, of decay and dying things. And the wrongness of it, the unnatural stillness, as if nature had simply taken a snapshot and left it in her place, set his fangs on edge. His instincts didn't like it one bit.

Lance rested a palm on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his hip. Almost casually, as if he just needed someplace to put his hand. The predator in him growled low in his mind. On alert. Foes came in all shapes and sizes and he'd learned a long time ago not to underestimate them. With his thumb he clicked the safety off the handgun in the holster at the small of his back and prowled through the woods. Danger. Something off...something wrong...was near.

Angel was enjoying watching Lance think he had the upper hand on her. As if. He thought he was sly. Letting her think she chose the direction they walked. When all along, she knew he was driving her along the patrol route. It was a fun game. Watching him, watching her. Lance's pale skin and silver blond hair was a ghost of a shadow of light in the darkness. Clouds obstructed the moon. And the stillness of the woods was eerie in its silence.

Lance's eyes narrowed. His lashes hooded his dark eyes and the wariness within them. His fingers flexed around the hilt of the dagger strapped to his side. And she heard an unmistakable click as he released the safety. To an observer, someone who didn't know him or his nature, his movements would appear casual and relaxed. His feet sped, ghosting over the brush and loam. His nose twitched almost imperceptibly, sampling the air for what his eyes could not see and his ears failed to hear.

Angel sensed it too, the danger lurking in the serene darkness. Trees loomed over her head reaching to the sky with their skeletal fingers. Roots tangled around her feet, threatening to send her sprawling to the ground. Tendrils of thorny brush snagged her clothes. And the air, chokingly thick with decay, suffocated her. A chill settled over her shoulders and snaked down her spine. Whispers echoed in her head, commanding, compelling her feet to move. Ordering her where she didn't want to go.

"North," she whispered. Of course, it made sense. She had to go north. Where else would she go? Instinctively, Angel knew which direction her feet should travel. Spinning on her heel she diverted off the path. Thick patches of woods flanked the narrow trail. She'd have to fight her way through them. Combat the brush and saplings. Wiggle between the tightly wedged pines. And worm around the fat tree trunks blocking her way. It would be better to backtrack and go around. No. North. Now. She had to go. They had to go.

Lance should come with her. It made sense. Naturally, he'd come. Why wouldn't he? The pull became stronger. Undeniable. Confusing her. Surely, he felt it too. Saw the logic. They didn't have time to debate anyway. This was what they should do. Move. "Lance, c'mon. We have to go. NOW!" Angel didn't understand what was driving her. Almost possessing her spirit and pushing it northward. Her mind grappled to comprehend it. And as much as she had to move, some part of her battled to stay where she was. Safe. North wasn't safe. Angel could feel the taint behind the compulsion. The presence calling and commanding her, gripping her with his icy fist, forcing her...Roark.

"Are you onto something?" Lance whispered. Angel's eyes were fierce and black, hard with determination. Her jaw quivered as she stared into the darkness. Debating. She took a few timid steps and then plunged ahead, speeding out of his reach before he could stop her. There was nothing quite as uncanny as women's intuition. And Lance went with it, following behind the dark shape barreling through the woods.

Angel raced ahead. Plowing through the woods and leaving Lance struggling to keep up. She had to get there...wherever there was... now. Mindlessly, she ignored the branches clawing at her limbs. Nothing could slow her down. She couldn't stop. Terror seeped into her awareness. This wasn't right. But, she couldn't seem to force her feet not to move. This had to be done. Lance was right behind her and that frightened her more than anything. That she'd drag him down with her. Something was terribly wrong. Still, she couldn't stop herself from barreling head first into danger. Reaching out with her senses, she sniffed the air. Catching the sweet cloying scent of vampires.

Lance lunged for Angel and toppled her into the brush. She struggled beneath him. Fighting like a wild cat, scratching and clawing as he grappled to restrain her flailing limbs. He captured first one wrist and then the other, pinning her beneath his weight. Crazed, Angel snapped at him with her sharp fangs and promised retribution in a heated glare. "Rogues," he whispered.

The word, the threat of them and the danger embedded itself in her mind. Angel nodded. But, it didn't matter. She had to keep moving. Gathering her strength, she almost managed to free herself from Lance's grip. His hard-edged determination held her fast. Fingers tightened around her wrists. Their legs tangled and his thigh muscles flexed against her hip as he battled to keep her pinned beneath his weight.

"Angel, stop," Lance hissed. He had no clear visual on their uninvited guests. But, the smell of them was strong. Dozens of rogues prowled the woods. Moving with preternatural speed through the darkness. The last thing either one of them needed was to be spotted out here. Against a handful, he might be able to defend them. But, battling an army, he didn't stand a chance. "They'll kill us both," he growled.

Chance and Will followed the trail leading them further and further to the woods. Occasionally, stopping to test the air. The woods were silent with menace. Filled with the scent of rogues. Cautiously, they crept forward through the towering trees and spindly fingers of brush. Tracking woodsy scent of their brother deeper into the darkness.

Will had never been afraid of the dark. He'd never feared anything until Chance and Candace came careening into his life. His son, so much like his mother, sometimes it left Will dumbfounded with awe. But, he could see himself in the steely hardness of Chance's jaw and the glimmer of determination in his stare. His skin prickling, he took point, prepared to throw himself in the path of danger to protect his son.

Chance ground his molars in irritation. Now was not the time to argue about his father's archaic ideals. He hardly needed his dad's protection. Chance had been taking care of his mother and himself for years before Will came, barreling, with the grace of a runaway freight train, into their lives. Before moving out to find Angel, his mother had given him strict orders to look after his dad. And if Chance had to guess, his father had been given the same order, to look after him.

He elbow crawled across the ground and settled beside his father. He hated the stink of rogues. Their stench left a peculiar aftertaste on the tip of his tongue. Sweet and nauseating, he could smell them moving through the woods. This wasn't a covert operation. The rogues stomped haphazardly through the trees carelessly. As if they couldn't control their steps and some force was controlling them. Headed north, for a purpose that had Chance baffled.

One thing was for sure though. The rogues' distraction was to his benefit. With the numbers stumbling through the darkness, it wouldn't be much of a fight. His father and he were grossly out numbered. The rogues' obliviousness to their presence was the only thing that kept them alive. Not more than a hundred feet ahead of them, Lance struggled to restrain Angel. Chance would have thought he'd stumbled onto a tryst in the woods and quickly looked away, if not for the scent of danger in the air.

Lance had Angel pinned on her back beneath him, fighting for all he was worth to secure her flailing limbs. When this was over Chance was going to harass the shit out of the tracker for letting a teeny-tiny female kick his ass. Chance reached into the pack strapped to his back and pulled out a compact length of steel coil. His dad, stretched out beside him, palmed a dagger, and nodded. They too, had made their own pact. In silent agreement, the terms of which were nothing more than imperceptible nod and an exchange of hardened expressions. Angel came with them, one way or another.

"Will you stop it?" Lance hissed beneath his breath. He tightened his grip on Angel's wrists. He knew he was hurting her. A little pain might break through whatever held her captive and save their damn lives. "This place is crawling with rogues. You may not be fond of that pretty head on your shoulders. But, I happen to like it. And I for sure am irreparably attached to mine. Hold still!"

Lance thought it was odd. The rogues had to know they weren't alone in the woods. Yet, they made no moves toward aggression. Chance and Will snuck carefully through the thicket of brush behind him. Somehow, three against an army of dozens didn't make Lance feel all warm and fuzzy about their odds of getting Angel and their own asses out of here in one piece. The father/ son warrior duo could can the attempt at stealth and double-time it a little faster to help out. Angel was as slippery as an eel in his grip. And he'd been kneed in the balls one too many times trying to keep his hold on her.

"Let me up!" Angel bucked and kicked at Lance. Her knee connected with his groin. Rewarding her with a strained, high-pitched oomph and a curse as he tightened his hold on her wrists. The compulsion to move was agonizing. Digging cold fingers into her mind. The woods were alive with rogues. She could smell them and hear them crawling through the trees, following the command of the unseen force. Lance prevented her from joining them. She'd feel so much better if she could just go. If she could only manage to wrestle her way free.

Fighting harder, Angel head butted Lance. Blood sprayed from his shattered nose, coating her lips. Snaking her tongue between her extended fangs, she lapped up the sweetness. Tasting his fear for her, his concern for his brothers, and his determination to keep everyone, including her, safe. He would never give up. She'd have to kill him to earn her freedom. Begging him, her eyes searching and pleading she said, "You don't understand. I have to go."

Lance didn't have time to worry about the ramifications of Angel sampling his blood. The pain blossoming through his skull took precedence over any concern he might have about the accidental link she forged with him. It wasn't like he had any secrets to hide anyway. He exhaled and looked up in relief at the sound of Chance and Will approaching from behind. "What the hell is going on?"

"No fucking clue," Chance answered. He unwound the coil and dodged a kick aimed at his midsection. "Dad, hold her still," he gritted as he grappled with an ankle, twisting the steel cable around Angel's boot. Angel fought with the fury and strength of someone ten times her size. Desperately and crazed as if her life depended on getting free. Keene at least tried to hold back. Angel was gone. Checked out. Nobody home. Thankfully, she was unarmed and possessed no real threat other than her fangs. And yeah, if she could have, she'd take a bite out of one of them.

Chance eased out a breath and worked his way to Angel's other leg. One limb down, three to go. He worked furiously to secure the cabling around her ankle. With the extra pair of hands to restrain her, Lance had planted his knees into Angel's chest. Pinning her torso with the bulk of his weight and her wrists with a determined grip. Chance snapped the hasp into place and tugged on the cabling. Satisfied that her legs were secure and she wasn't going to break free, he moved to work on her wrists.

Carefully avoiding her snapping fangs and razor sharp fingernails, not taking her curses too personally, he grappled with her wrist. The hate in her eyes would have sent a lesser man running for the hills. The hasp locked into place, Chance grunted to wrestle Angel onto her belly as Lance lifted his weight from her chest and ducked a wicked right hook as he released her wrist. Angel released a string of bitter curses the likes of which he had no means to define. Hissing, she called him every name in the book and a few others that weren't. Insulted his manhood. Spat and unleashed a verbal attack on his mom. He ignored her and kept working. Holding her fast to the ground with a knee to the small of her back as he bound her wrists together. "No hard feelings, Angel. Trust me, it's for your own good."

"Fuck off!" Angel hissed. Spitting at Chance, she wriggled in the relentless hold of the steel cables. She twisted and clamped her mouth shut as Lance grappled with her jaw and forced a makeshift gag between her lips. The three men were struggling to save her life. She didn't care. She didn't want it saved. She'd give it to stop the compulsion raging in her mind, willing her feet to carry her north.

"Sorry," Lance said. Trussed up like a Thanksgiving Day turkey, Angel glowered at him. Ok, so maybe stuffing a sweat sock into her mouth to shut her up wasn't the optimal way to build a friendship. But, desperate times called for desperate measures. He wiggled his bare toes in his boot and grunted from the pain starbursting through his skull and in his groin. Right now, he wasn't too fond of her either. His boys might never forgive her for the insult she'd unleashed on them.

Grunting to hurry to his feet, Lance picked Angel up off the ground and slung her over his shoulder. Someday, they'd laugh about this. Yeah, not likely. He'd worry about their fractured friendship later. For now, the only thing that mattered was getting out of here and figuring out what in the hell was going on. Even bound as she was, Angel still put up a fight. Writhing against the cables. At least, with his sweat sock stuffed into her mouth, she couldn't scream to give away their location and she couldn't sink her fangs into his ass. Lance felt Angel's seething rage over what he'd done to her. Ok, so this wasn't exactly a Hallmark moment. She'd kill him if she could manage to get free. Thanks to Chance's handiwork she wasn't going anywhere except to a holding cell in the bowels of the compound where she'd be safe. "You can kick my ass later. After you thank me for saving yours."

Once inside the compound, Lance dropped his load on the floor outside of the storage room. Waiting as Will cautiously inched open the thick steel door. "Angel," he said gently. Running his hand over her sleek black hair, he ignored the sting of the hatred and fury in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Once we figure out what's going on. I'll let you out. I promise."

The expression of compassion, understanding, and forgiveness on Lance's face brought Angel around to a momentary reprieve from her insanity. His fingers hovered near the gag stuffed in her mouth. Hesitantly, he pulled the thick cotton bundle from her lips and withdrew before she lost it and sank her fangs into his hand. The calling roared in her mind and threatened to pull her back under its spell. Angel wriggled in the steel cabling biting into her wrists. She tried so hard to keep it together for his sake. The best she could manage was a final few seconds worth of lucidity. "Lance, I'm scared."

"Don't be. I've got you. And I'm not letting you go." Gently he kissed his fingertips and brushed them across her forehead. He wasn't stupid enough to get his face anywhere near her lethal, razor sharp and fully extended fangs. Hefting Angel over his shoulder, he laid her down on the storeroom floor. Leaving her in a helplessly bound bundle beside Keene and Lori. He saw the moment the sanity she struggled so desperately to cling to left her mind. She writhed, twisting and fighting against the cables, welts from the tightness in which she'd been bound bit into her skin and drew beads of blood to the surface. Lance withdrew from his crouch and stared down at her. "Ever," he whispered.

Angelica stood on the peak of the high cliffs and stared out into the roaring waves of a rough sea. Surging and falling back the waves crashed into the rocky cliffs of the English coastline. She didn't understand exactly what was happening. But, she could no longer fight her compulsion to go to America. She had to get there. She was a recluse and had been for centuries. She hadn't seen another of her kind in nearly four decades. Without an identity, money or worldly possessions. She lived off the grid, a useful policy, which had served her well over her long life, until now. Leaping over the steep edge she fell into the icy, brackish waves. She'd get to America or die trying.