Dawn Unleashed

"I've got to finish grading these papers tonight," Nora said, pulling back from his fingers. A cold chill set across her cheeks, replacing the warmth of his hands. Pretending to be interested in a high school senior's bad grammar, instead of him, she slashed red hash marks across the page.

David rose to his feet with a confused grunt. Sometimes Nora was unreadable. She could shut him out so easily. He supposed it was a defense that she used to protect herself against him. Against the inevitable out come of their lives together. Once this last task was put to bed for once and for all. He'd dedicate himself to giving her the happy life she deserved. He'd see to it that everyday and every night was filled with joy. So much so that she wouldn't have time to think about what would eventually separate them forever. He could make her happy and keep her human at the same time. "Nora..."

Nora glanced over her readers and pinned him with her gaze, "David."

Seeing her like this, so matronly. So businesslike and so much like a teacher, spread a grin across his lips. She had no idea how hot she looked with those glasses perched on the end of her nose and a pencil jammed through her ponytail holding the wayward strands into a loose bun. Even if she lived to be over one hundred, she'd always, always be able to bring his blood to a boil. "Nothing." He checked the weapon he'd left for her one last time and headed for the door.

Nora watched David walk with casual cat-like grace. His feet didn't quite seem to touch the floor. His gait was more like a glide. His smile held the boyish charm she'd first fallen in love with a decade ago. So much about him was still the same, as if time had forgotten all about him. He was tall, lanky and lean. Youthful. At a first glance, he looked harmless, just a teenager. She could see though the façade of his boyish appearance to the man that lived beneath the surface. "I love you."

David brought his fingertips to his lips and blew her a kiss. "I know."

Nora got up from the table and went to the window. The black of David's leathers hid him from her sight. But, she knew he was out there. She could sense him as he melded with the night. Her hand went to the pocket of her kaki colored pants and withdrew an empty vial. A light dusting of pink coated the insides of the glass tube. She'd found it on the floor of the cafeteria after lunch today, abandoned and forgotten. Its contents snorted or swallowed by some student eager for a quick high.

Perhaps, there was someone who could help her. Take the decision out of David's hands and put it into hers where it rightfully should be. It was, after all, her life, and it was her that had an inevitable death sentence hanging over her head. Death was inevitable, even for David. But, death didn't have to be inescapable. She could wiggle from its grasp for a very, very long time.

Chapter 49

Robert lounged on the bleachers bordering the gym, watching as John Mark put Cole though his paces. His boy could do amazing things with that new body of his. Even now, after a grueling workout he sparred with John Mark, avoiding a wickedly sharp blade with graceful, almost dance like movements.

"You're very proud of him," a voice said from behind. Robert jumped with a start, having heard not as much as the groan of wood as the leader of the Sons took the empty space next to him. The man smiled knowingly, almost apologetically. "Dane."

"I've never been good with names," Robert explained. Usually, he had no cause to remember them. So paranoid at even the slightest of contact, he kept his distance and shied away from strangers. He tipped his chin, gesturing toward Cole. "He's a good kid. Ummmm, warrior, I mean."

Dane snorted and corrected Robert. "Kid." He watched John Mark parry and swerve out of reach of Cole's blade. Cole stumbled almost comically over his own feet. Adjusting to his body and its new abilities was going to take much practice and patience. Dane wasn't any different at Cole's stage, none of the warriors were. "He's got a long way to go yet."

"He'll learn," Robert said with certainty. Cole and John Mark moved so quickly he could barely follow them with his eyes. Amazing. Their movements were breathtaking. He leapt to his feet as John Mark pinned Cole against the floor with the tip of his blade.

Dane quickly tugged the man back into his seat by the hem of his shirt. "Sometimes learning is uncomfortable. Cole is fine." He grinned as John Mark withdrew his sword and allowed Cole to scramble to his feet. "How are your lessons coming along? Is the Shaman helping you?"

Robert sighed and looked down at his gloved fingers. "Better. But, I still have my moments. Sometimes I think I still wear them out of habit."

Dane nodded in understanding. Human habits, those long practiced and hard earned were the hardest to break, as both Cole and his father were finding out. "You know you're welcome as long as you like."

"Appreciate that," Robert said, looking up from his gloves. "I'd like to get the chance to know my son better."

"Of course." Dane had followed the scent of humanity to the gym. He planned to approach Robert about a particularly sensitive issue. Maybe, his timing wasn't quite right yet. It didn't feel right to bring it up here and now as he'd thought. Cole would need blood, human blood to supplement his diet.

Donors were scarce and cherished. The girl was one potential candidate for Cole. But, sometimes it was best to let family take care of their own. Blood was blood, so much thicker than water. "Well, don't let them kill each other," he meant it as a joke. The frown forming on Robert's face let him know that he didn't find the comment humorous. "Just kidding."

"Oh," Robert said with a nervous chuckle. It was hard to imagine the stoic battle weary vampire at his side had a sense of humor. These people, especially this man would take good care of his son. He had nothing to worry about. He scooted closer to Dane and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've been wondering...what does Cole eat? Does he...?" anxiously he rubbed his neck.

"He does and he will need more soon." Dane studied Robert, noticing the bounding pulse point on his neck and the slight tremor of his hands beneath their protective barrier of gloves. "We don't kill. Ever. We survive out of the bounty of the woods. But, wildlife alone isn't enough. Cole will need human blood."

"And I...?" Robert squeaked.

"If you will permit. If not, there are others."

Robert gasped as realization of the true purpose of Dane's visit came to light. He wanted him to offer his neck to his son. The thought turned his stomach. But, Dane, the silent purpose behind his stare, let him know what was expected. Where his duty and loyalty should lie. "Of course. Cole is my son."

Dane nodded and stood to leave. Genetics alone did not the measure of the bond between father and son make. Robert would be there for Cole in every way that mattered. "I'll count on you then. When the time comes." He stood, towering over Robert. The man's eyes were round and hollowed with fear. "You have my assurance. You'll not be harmed."

"Great," Robert muttered under his breath, watching as Dane left the gym. He turned his eyes back to Cole's training session. Desperately, pushing the thoughts of what he'd offered out of his mind as he focused on his son.

Chapter 50

Daniel shuffled his feet nervously and waited for the tall, stoic vampire currently giving him the cold shoulder to answer his question. Carter didn't move as much as a muscle, standing leaning on the mantle staring absently into the dazzling display of flames dancing in the fireplace. "Carter, I asked...,"

"I heard what you asked the first time, Daniel," Carter snapped. "There's no need to repeat the question." He turned and appraised the youth with a cold, disinterested stare. The boy wanted to know about blood oaths and if there was any way to violate them. The answer was simple. No. His eyes returned to the flames. He feigned impartiality and almost aloofness as the boy prattled on. As if he cared what kind of mess the boy and his father had gotten themselves into. To make a bargain with O'Sullivan was to barter with Satan himself and the devil always got his due. "Are you sure you want to hear the answer?"

Daniel swallowed hard at the knot in his throat and nodded. If there were a way out of the pact his father had made with O'Sullivan, of course he wanted to know. No, he didn't want to know. He had to know. Had to hear the truth no matter how difficult it might be. "There is a way out then?"

Carter lifted his face from the firelight. The warmth did little to soothe him. Nothing much, if anything, eased the torment in his soul these days. "There is a way."

"Ok," Daniel said, inching closer. Carter's eyes blazed blue, like a layer of ice frozen over the Atlantic. So cold. So hard. Unfeeling. As if he cared for nothing or no one, not even himself. "Tell me. What do I have to do?"

"Die." Carter almost chuckled at the breath caught in Daniel's throat. Did the boy think a blood pact could be broken cheaply? "If you're no longer in the equation then O'Sullivan has nothing to bargain with. The pact is null and void. Your father and O'Sullivan bartered for a life that wasn't theirs to barter with." Idly, Carter grabbed a cast iron poker from its stand and jabbed at the burning logs sending a shower of cinders up the flue. "Your destiny is your own. Not theirs."

Air rushed out of Daniel's throat as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Out of all the possibilities, he hadn't considered this one. If he weren't around, his father wouldn't have to fulfill the pact. "That's not good."

"No it isn't," Carter agreed, replacing the poker to its stand. "There is another way. But, it's highly unlikely and definitely impossible on your own to achieve."

"What's that?" Daniel was all about hearing the alternatives. If he could save his father without dying in the process, he was all for it.

"Kill O'Sullivan."

"How?"

Carter held the boy with a cold stare. "He's old. Perhaps one of the oldest vampires I've ever met and unfortunately, he's my sire. Eric won't go down without a fight. Powerful as he is, you can't take him out on your own."

"Will you help me?" Daniel sensed that Carter had no true loyalty to Eric. Yessette seemed to be the only thing holding him to this place. Deep down, Daniel knew that Carter and Yessette had a history. At one time, they'd been in love. Carter loved her still. Daniel would catch him, when he thought no one was looking, staring at her with longing burning up his cold blue eyes. Love and something else, something deeper haunted Carter, regret and pity. Daniel had always felt a little guilty about that. Not guilty enough to turn her away though.

"I doubt that the two of us, our combined strength is enough to best him. He hasn't survived for this long by being weak and stupid."

"What about the Sons? Why haven't they stopped him? The Guardians are here in the city and they've done nothing."

"Without evidence, they won't. Bianca protects him."

"You protect him too. You out of all people know what he's planning to do. You know everything he's done. Why?"

Carter was in motion, holding the boy up by the scruff of his neck. "Don't pretend to question things you know nothing about. I do nothing for him. Never for him," he hissed, dropping Daniel to the floor like a rag doll.

Daniel coughed and sputtered, gasping for air as he clamored to his feet. "For her then. Yessette." He rested on his palms, leaning his weight on his thighs. Much needed air rushing into his lungs. "You love her."

Carter glared at Daniel with cold eyes, freezing him where he stood. "You go too far, Daniel. Best you shut your mouth before I save Eric the trouble and kill you myself."

Daniel straightened his posture and deliberately looked into Carter's eyes. They were the feral, steely, calculating eyes of a predator evaluating a particularly tasty morsel. "There has to be a way to take Eric down. I know about the drugs. I know about the bodies. There's more than enough evidence to bring the Sons pounding on the door."

"That can't happen," Carter said.

"Why not?"

"Do you love that woman upstairs? That's why. Yessette is far from the person you take her for. She's a mistake, one that has haunted me for centuries. Do you know what your precious saviors would do to her? They wouldn't let her live. They'd put an end to her, like I should have long ago. You can't involve the Sons without involving her. You see her through blinders. Open your eyes and see the truth of what she is."

Daniel frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Sometimes, often, he wished the vampires weren't so cryptic and would just come out and say exactly what they were thinking. "Yessette isn't anything like O'Sullivan or you, for that matter. She's innocent."

"Innocent," Carter scoffed. "Innocent? Has your love for her made you completely blind? Go upstairs, boy. Enter her private rooms and find out for yourself exactly how innocent Yessette truly is."

Daniel spun on his heel and stormed out of the study, leaving Carter to stare into the flames of the fire. What was he saying? What was he accusing Yessette of? He bounded up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. Doubts raced through his mind the closer he got to the end of the third story hallway and Yessette's private rooms. He'd never been in them. She'd always come to him. His fingers locked around the doorknob and turned it, flinging the aged oak door wide. The gasp stuck in his throat as his brain registered what his eyes reluctantly saw. "Yessette!"

Yessette glared up at the intruder. A good meal was difficult to come by. The girl in her arms was pure. Her blood fresh as a springtime meadow, free from the taint of drugs, alcohol, or infection. She had not drunk of such a pristine wellspring in a very long, long time and she was enjoying it, immensely. Startled, she dropped the girl to the floor with a loud thud. Quickly, recovering her composure, she ran her hands down her skirts. "Daniel, I didn't hear you knocking."

"I didn't knock, Yessette." Daniel was stunned with horror. His eyes fixed on the lifeless shell on the floor crumpled to a heap at Yessette's feet. Yessette stood looking at him, cool and composed, her expression wide-eyed and innocent. Like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar by her mother. Instead, he'd caught her in the act of murdering a human being, a girl, not much older than him and defenselessly human. Daniel swallowed down the bile climbing into his throat at the sight of the blood dripping in a thin, lazy rivulet from Yessette's chin. A weak, pitiful moan escaped the girl's lips. She was still alive! He still had a chance to save her.

Daniel rushed to the girl's side and scooped her limp body up in his arms. The girl's body was cold, a sickly gray pallor washed over her skin. Blood pumped from the punctures in her neck in a weak trickle. He pressed his palm to the wound to staunch the flow. The girl's pulse fluttered faintly against his fingertips. "Carter! Carter!" he screamed. "Yessette! You have to do something!"

Yessette cocked her head and stared down at Daniel. He clutched the girl desperately in his arms as if he could squeeze the life that was trickling out of her back into her limp body. She inched back as blood from the girl soaked into the Persian rug beneath her feet. The pumps were expensive, a gift from Eric and she didn't want to spoil them. "Do you think she's pretty?"

"What?" Daniel stammered. "Yessette, help her."

Yessette eased down to her knees, careful of the blood. Her skirts were vintage silks from the nineteenth century. If they got stained, she'd have to throw them away. She regarded Daniel and the girl with intense curiosity. The girl had only seconds left. The rhythm of her heartbeat was one Yessette knew well. Death was coming to claim its prize. "Why?"

"Because she's a human being. Carter! Damn it! Carter!" The girl's helpless stare faded to nothing as her eyes glazed over. A weak thrum sounded in her chest. She was dying in his arms and there was nothing he could do to save her. For all the things he and his wolf could do, they were powerless against death. "Carter!" In desperation, Daniel stared up at the man in the doorway. "Please!"

Carter stood in the open doorway staring down at Daniel and the girl. The sickeningly sweet smell of death was already thick in the air. The girl's heart sputtered, scrabbling to keep hold of the last remnants of life that were left inside the fragile organ and then failed in a deafening silence. "Would you have me populate the world with victims, Daniel? I can't save them all," he answered.

Carter's voice was raw, coarse as gravel. He hated the death that inevitably came for those who found themselves in Yessette's tender embrace. He hated her and the thing that she was. The thing he'd helped to create. "Yessette, clean up your mess," he said, turning on his heel to leave.

Yessette heaved a heavy sigh and reached for the girl. Eric never made her clean up after herself. What a tedious task housekeeping was. Not meant for one as fragile and gentle as she. A dignified woman of stature would never sink to such levels. Carter treated her with all the care and caution of a scullery maid. She'd be scrubbing at the stains on the Persian rug for hours. Pouting, she reached for the girl.

"Don't touch her!" Daniel barked, clutching the girl's dead body to his chest. Yessette had done enough to this poor girl already. Defiled her in the worst possible way. Sucked down her life and left her nothing but an empty shell to be discarded in the garbage. "You murdered her, Yessette!" He struggled to get onto his feet without having to abandon the girl on the floor. She'd deserved so much more than the hand she'd been dealt.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Daniel. There's plenty more to take her place. Babies are born everyday. She'll be forgotten as quick as an instant." She reached for the corpse only to have Daniel snatch it out of her grasp. She was so careful. She hadn't expected him to catch her in the act of eating. Everyone ate. She was just at the top of the food chain. "Daniel, I have to eat. Is this so different than the slaughtered cow on your dinner plate?"

Daniel looked at Yessette with disgust. "Yeah, it is," he answered, clutching the girl's lifeless body to his chest. "My steak doesn't have a name. A family. Friends. She does." The ends of the girl's long strawberry blonde hair brushed against his knuckles. From death dulled eyes she stared up at him. "She did." Wincing, he turned away from her glazed stare. "You didn't have to kill her."

Yessette reached for the corpse and eased it out of Daniel's reluctant arms. Gently, as if she were bedding a lover, she stretched the corpse out over the satins of her bedding. Making a show out of it for him. The thought of wasting such fine luxury on a dead body rankled her. A hefty bag would have sufficed quite nicely. "Daniel, I can't help what I am."

Daniel stared down at the blood coating his fingers. Tears he hadn't realized had fallen dried on his cheeks, heating his skin. He couldn't look at the lifeless body stretched out on the bed or at Yessette. He'd kissed that mouth. Relished the feeling of her fangs in his flesh. Shouted her name in passion and heard his whispered in turn. He felt cold, nauseated, and disgusted, more with himself than her. He knew, deep, deep down he knew what she was and how she survived. His dad had tried to tell him. Tried to spare him from the pain of the truth. He just hadn't listened. Hadn't wanted to. "No, you can't." Numbly, Daniel stumbled down the stairs to leave Yessette to her grizzly task.