Dawn's Destiny

"Woman," Doc growled in warning. He could not have her running around or using one of those infernal cell phones, blabbing the secret all over town.

"That's not my name." She jutted out her chin in defiance and crossed her arms over her chest. Damn it, he was not going to get to her. At the very least, when Doc addressed her by calling her woman, he acknowledged that she was female. And that implied that he had noticed at least that simple fact.

"Barbara," The Shaman sputtered, correcting himself. "I will tell you everything, in time. When Drew gives his approval. But, until then, please shut up. You don't understand what it is you speak of."

"Where's the Great Father?" Barbara asked. She got the distinct feeling that she was being railroaded. And given the newness of her reality, what had already been thrown at her to accept. What were a few stray werewolves and goblins added into the mix? She could handle it. She'd seen and been through much scarier things. Like cancer and chemotherapy. Werewolves? Demons? Let her at them.

"Otherwise occupied," Doc sighed. "Please, don't make assumptions about things you don't understand. I beg you."

"Beg? I'm not going to tell anybody anything."

"Can't you try to master what has already been handed to you? Why must you constantly search for new things to think about?"

"Human nature?"

"You're not human. Not any more. Please, try to be thankful for the gifts that you already have."

"I am. But, there's so much more out there. Things that I never knew existed. Experiences that I've never had. I want to see it all. Do it all. Know it all."

"And you shall. When you're ready." The Shaman crossed the distance between them and rested his hands gently on her shoulders. The harsh scent of garlic clung to her hair and clothing. But, the sting of the pungent herb couldn't override her natural scent. Vanilla and cinnamon blended together harmoniously. The aroma was both sweet and decadent. The scent, called out the man in him. Teasing him. But, he hardened his will. She had enough to deal with. And so did he. Namely her.

Barbara almost gave in. Almost rested her head on his broad chest. Knew it would be warm and welcoming. Comforting. But, she stood her ground. Not wanting him to see how he affected her. He was her teacher. Nothing more.

Against her will, she tipped her face up her eyes searching out his expression. Waiting for him. Ready for another taste of the forbidden paradise of his lips. He was so close. Easily, he could close the space between them. Crush them together. But, he stared down at her. Jaw set hard in determination. He thought she was going to kiss him? As if. She never made the first move. But, perhaps that was why she never dated and spent endless Saturday nights alone. A confident woman would make her interest apparent. Forbidden or not. Welcomed or not. She looked away. Dejectedly lowering her face. She was not such a woman.

Those lips. Tipped up. Pursed and ready to receive his kiss almost pushed him over the brink. Distance. His mind clamored. Maintain distance. He was the adult here. The teacher. She trusted him to keep her safe. But, if he tasted those lips, she wouldn't be. Not ever again.

The first kiss had been a fluke. No, he was not embarrassed by it. But, he was not going to let it happen again. Reluctantly he lifted his hands from the narrow space of her shoulders. "I really must get back to work. You should go spend some time resting or chatting with the women. I'm afraid I'm not very good company."

"No, no you're not." Barbara could not agree more with his statement. He sucked with people. But, then again, as he'd not so gently reminded her, she wasn't human. He had a thing or two that he could learn from her. Things that would make him fit for society such as politeness and couth.

"I am trying. But, you make it very difficult. I haven't been around anyone but warriors in a very long time. The women are a relatively new addition to our home and they've proven to be a challenge for me. I always say the wrong thing. Do something that makes them angry. Therefore, I haven't spent much time in their company."

"You're afraid of them," Barbara said with a smile. He holed up in his room because he wasn't only afraid of the warrior's wives, but of her. She took a step closer to test her theory. And sure enough, he took a step back. The knowledge empowered her. "You're afraid of me."

"I am not."

Barbara took another step forward, and he a step back, over and over until he was backed into a corner. She snorted half in disbelief and half in delight. "Yes, you are."

"No, I am not. Barbara, I was happy to share my gift and save your life. But, you have proven to be something more than what I expected."

"A bright, exciting, attractive woman." Barbara answered, filling in the blanks.

"Yes... I mean... no," Doc stammered. Embarrassed by the effect she had on him. "I'm your creator. I can't feel that way for you." There was no law forbidding his attraction for her. But, ethically, he condemned himself for such actions.

"Why not? Patrick created Janine and they have a relationship. Toby created Anna and they're married. Why not? Is this a law of the Sons or some silly rule you thought up in your spare time?"

"They're different. They were in love before the transformation took place. I didn't even know you. Surely, you see the complication don't you? Their bond already existed. The blood merely made it stronger. We had no relationship. The blood we share could be leading us to believe that something is there that isn't."

"But, that's stupid. I refuse to believe it," Barbara said. The truth, the want in his words stunned her. Doc did have feelings for her. Desires. Needs. He did see her as a woman. He didn't want to. And he probably regretted that first kiss. The key turned in the lock that had opened the door. Physically, he didn't appear to be much older than she when it happened. The streaks of silver in his braids and the laugh lines etched into the corners of his mouth and eyes were hints of the life he'd lived. And she wondered about his 'before' life. She'd never ask though. Somehow, the asking of the details of a life he'd lived before her great-great grandparents arrived on a steamship and set foot on this foreign soil seemed far too intrusive and personal to ask.

"I can't rule the possibility out."

"But, you can't say it for certain either."

"No."

Barbara stepped back. Cheeks heated. "When you figure it out. You know where to find me. I'll get someone else to mentor me in the meantime. Surely, someone will take a newborn under their wing."

"But, you are my responsibility," Doc sputtered. Wincing when he realized he'd used the wrong words...again. He'd hurt her feelings. He hadn't meant to. He didn't want her to go. But, he had no idea of what to say to make her stay. She was a modern woman, a product of her era. And he was an awkward, ancient fool almost seven times her age. They had nothing in common except for Thomas and the desire to get into one another's pants. Other than that, what could a woman like her possibly see in a man like him?

"No, I'm not. You're fired. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. Until you get a clue. And then maybe, if I'm feeling exceptionally charitable, I'll speak. If not, too bad for you."

Doc stood in the corner. Dumbfounded. Watching as she turned on her heel and stomped out. "Barbara, please." He winced as she thrust up her hand, silencing him. Her stride never slowed or missed a step. "What's a clue?" he muttered under his breath. The woman spoke a strange language he didn't always understand.

"My point exactly," Barbara huffed as she batted his beaded curtains aside and left him standing there staring after her. Forbidden, self-imposed rules. Nothing but utter nonsense created by his mind to keep anyone who might happen to get too close at a distance. She didn't have time for crap. Some great mentor he was. He was the one that needed mentoring. She could teach him a lot about being human.

Vampires weren't the cold callous beings portrayed in the movies. They had feelings. Emotions. Habits. Despite Doc's proclamation that vampires were not human, she believed differently of herself and of him. Deep down to their very core, in their souls where it mattered most, they were, very human.

Chapter 28

Tala traced a path down the narrow bridge of Drew's nose with her finger. He held perfectly still. Giving her time to touch, taste, and explore. Smiling, she continued her downward trail. Circling a dark nipple with the lightest touch. "Do you like that?"

"I like everything you do for me," Drew replied. Her fingers were magic. Sending waves of pleasure wherever they touched. He sucked in a breath as a warm tongue replaced her fingertips and tiny white teeth nipped at his tender flesh.

"Like that better?"

He nodded, totally incapable of speech as her fingers brushed against his hard and ready length. The woman was going to kill him. Of that, he was certain. She drove him to the edge of insanity so quickly. With every sway of her hips and gentle curve he traced. Her fingers wrapped around and gently fisted the source of his madness. Tight pressure and spasms of desire surged through his body. If she kept the gentle stroking motions up much longer. He'd never make it through his mental agenda of all the things he wanted to do to her.

"That must be really good," Tala whispered against Drew's chest. His body was a tight, rigid, layer of muscle and sinew. Back arched and hips jutting upwards, he rocked in time with her strokes. She slid her tongue down along the washboard ridges of his stomach and replaced her palm with her mouth over the head of his cock. Toying with him, she lapped at the salty taste of him. And was rewarded by a breathy whimper of sheer pleasure.

Good? Hell, he had never felt so good. The warm, suction of her lips and mouth was paradise. Drew tugged her braid loose and ran his fingers through the long ebony waves. So pretty. So soft. He planted his hand on her back and coaxed her up onto her knees. Dragging her up his body so that the sweetest parts of her, the parts he longed to explore were within his reach.

"Good?" he rasped. Tala needed little coaxing. A few gentle probes and strokes with his fingers had her hot, drenched, and shuddering in delight.

Tala arched over Drew. Her hands went to work on him. Feeling the soft skin of his hard shaft. He was so hard. The tip of him hot and beaded with moisture, ready to explode. "The best," she rasped. She needed little convincing to straddle him and impale her body with his hard, more than ample, length. Gasping and sighing as the first wave of release pounded through her body.

Drew couldn't agree more. He cupped the soft curves of her hips and drove himself deeply inside of her. Losing himself to her and to the moment. Groaning and muttering absolute nonsense babble, he shot hot seed into her body. He stretched out contented and let her take her time riding him to her fulfillment. Hips grinding against his pelvis as she found her pleasure, she took her time teasing him to the point of no return. Hard. Fast. And then slow, undulating those wicked hips, so painfully slow, she prolonged the moment of his release. Timing it to mach hers. Relentlessly possessing him pushing them over the brink simultaneously as she fell into a shuddering mass of panting passion against his chest.

Curled safely up in his arms. Tala breathed. She'd never known such happiness in her life. With Drew, there were no doubts. No questions about the future. They belonged together. She wasn't worried about anything. As long as they were together, there was nothing that fate could throw at them that they couldn't handle. She knew and understood the risks. And for him, she would take them willingly. Daydreaming, of the endless happy days ahead of them, she wondered if they'd made a baby today. She took no precautions against it. Pack law did not forbid birth control. Its use was simply not condoned. In fact, most couples frowned on it. They mated for a reason. And it was simple biology guiding their wolves, bringing them together to create life. Children were too rare and too precious to avoid. And pregnancies were cause for great celebration.

Drew held Tala tightly. He was content to hold her. Let her daydream and the happiness they caused, infuse the part of him that constantly worried about her safety, with warmth and light. He hadn't contacted Thomas yet. He had to figure out a creative excuse to slip away from Tala long enough to consult with the doctor without raising her suspicions. He should have taken precautions before making love to her. But, the moment had been too special to ruin with his lingering doubts. He had the condoms and although such things had not been available during his human years, he had a pretty good idea of how they worked. He had forgotten to or perhaps, been so wrapped up in her, to slide one on or to discuss their use with her beforehand.

Thomas might not know all of the answers Drew needed. But, the doctor could answer the most important question Drew had to ask. Was he able to father a child? And that question brought him back to his original thoughts so long ago. A part of him, the part that loved Tala, wanted desperately to have a child with her. On the bluffs he'd seemed so certain of it. But, here, sequestered in the darkness of his room, he wasn't as firm in his convictions. He wanted a child. That much he knew beyond a doubt. But, he wasn't convinced risking her life in a difficult pregnancy and even more difficult delivery was worth it.

And what of her disappointment, if his blood had robbed her of the ability to become a mother? What would that do to her? He'd meant to save her life, not destroy it. What if they tried for decades and nothing happened? Or what if that life, that tiny spark was already growing inside of her? What would it mean for them, for the pack, for the brothers, for the child? "I promise you, Tala. I will keep you safe. I promise."

Tala lifted her head and tilted her chin to stare into the bleak darkness of Drew's eyes. She was so blissed out, so happy after making love to him. And he was tense beneath her. Holding his breath in silent dread for something to which she had no clue of. For a man of such faith and convictions, sometimes he seemed so lacking. He was terrified. And she suspected she was the cause. He'd lost so much in his long life. And he was afraid of losing her too. Reaching up, she patted his cheek. "I know. And Drew, did you ever stop to think, I'm not the one in need of protecting? Perhaps, I'll protect you."

Drew bent his neck and kissed Tala's forehead. She had a way of putting his life in perspective. He sighed and stretched out on the bed. Covering himself with the length of her body, draped over him like a blanket. "Of course, you will, Tala. Of course."



Chapter 29

Claire was stiff and a little sore from sitting in one place so long. She'd been curled up on the bed reading all day. Sometimes, she'd pretend to read and steal a glance over the edge of her book at Grant. His face wore a mix of emotions. Worry, seemed to be the predominant one. Drifting across his features as he stared out into the sun drenched day lost in a world of his own. Although he was a fiend, her captor, she couldn't help but find herself wondering what his story actually was.

Grant sat distant and pensive not really bothering her at all. He'd fed them a light lunch of canned chicken noodle soup and peanut butter sandwiches. When she'd had to use the outhouse, he'd taken her without complaining. Although he had confiscated the alcohol gel, he'd worked the hand pump at the sink while she washed her hands afterwards. He gave her bottled water and cokes from the mini-fridge, not bothering to make coffee or instant tea again. He'd found her cookie stash and took a couple for himself before handing her the rest of the bag.

He didn't talk much, especially not about himself. In the hours in between tending to her, he sat in his chair blocking the doorway, staring out at the world in thought a majority of the day. He wore the same clothes, the ratty old t-shirt and too tight green sweats. The sweatpants were ancient, and she'd had them since her freshman year of college. His muscular calves, sprinkled with coarse dark hair and huge feet poked out from the too short legs.

She believed his story about not having any other clothes. And she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know why he'd been running around the woods naked. She couldn't pin his age down accurately. He looked to be about her age, in his late twenties. But, there was a weight to his eyes that somehow made him seem far older. He didn't have the look of a desperate thug, and he didn't behave like one. He was considerate of her. His speech was articulate, hinting that he was well educated. The way he walked, his posture erect without slouching, his steps measured and almost graceful, each step placed with a gentle rolling of his foot from heel to toe, spoke of untold hours of physical training. His eyes were alert and although he pretended not to, he noticed everything around him.

Grant hated flies. That much was obvious. And damn was he fast with his hands. Any fly brave enough to buzz near his general vicinity was immediately snatched out of the air and crushed in his massive fist. His annoyance with flies was laughable. But, it also hinted at just how dangerous he could be.

In between the reading of paragraphs, the turning of pages, and catching glimpses of him, her thoughts were filled with vague plans of escape. There was no way she could out run him. She'd given up on that idea. He'd hidden her car keys somewhere in the cabin. They were no longer dangling from the beam over her head. And he sure as hell wasn't going to just give them to her. Her cell phone was locked in the car and while she could bust out a window. He'd be on her before she dialed 911. And reception out here was sketchy at best. Her best bet was to bide her time and get him to the shower house across the lake. Distract him somehow while she called for help on the landline.

Claire yawned and stretched curling her toes as she flexed her leg muscles. Her body wasn't used to this much inactivity. Grant didn't bother glancing in her direction until she bent to reach under the bed. And then, he was on his feet towering over her, scowling intensely, as she fished around for the corner of a plastic tote. Her dad, although he was a bit shorter and stockier than Grant, kept a box of jeans and shirts under the bed. And she'd thought, perhaps offering them up would soften Grant a bit. And maybe, he'd let her go.

"My dad has some clothes stashed under the bed. If you'd like to look through them, I think they'll fit well enough," Claire explained. Carefully, moving very slowly, she yanked the tote from under the bed and slid it toward him. She'd washed her face in the sink and he'd let her scrounge through her bags to get her toothbrush and toothpaste. She'd applied deodorant and a light spray of perfume. He probably would have permitted a quick scrub down in the sink to wash her vital parts. But, there was no way she was stripping to do that while he watched.

He'd tended his grooming with a quick splash of cold water to his face and a haphazard drag of his fingers through his hair. Luckily, she always came prepared and had an extra toothbrush still in the package. She'd meant to leave it behind, along with a new tube of toothpaste and a bar of soap, just in case. Her dad was always forgetting to pack the essentials. And it never bothered him to do without for a few days rather than run all the way into town to get them.