Dawn's Destiny

Everyone was waiting for him to say something...to do...something. And damn it, that hog was going to be char on the spit. The keg of beer cooling on blocks of ice was going to be boiling hot by the time he figured out what. Humans were a common ground between the two sides. And the invitation had gone out. Thomas was noticeably absent. But, Drew didn't blame him. He was recuperating from his mother's last feeding. And the Shaman reported although Barbara was learning keeping her fed was quite the challenge. Leigh and Alexander stood awkwardly to the side of the gathering eying the wolves with wide-eyed expressions. Mack wore his gun tonight and had the thumb snap on his holster undone. Ginger nervously chomped on the biggest wad of gum Drew had ever seen. And while she was happily married, she stared flushed and unabashedly at the masculine bare chests of the pack.

It was so quiet on the bluffs the sound of a pin dropping would have been ear-splittingly loud. Drew tightened his grip on Tala's dainty fingers and stepped forward. The magic recognized him and died down to a soft caress against his skin. The pack spoke a loose dialect of the ancient language. And the brothers although while not as well versed in the forgotten tongue, understood it with psychic clarity. Drew needed his Seconds at his side as well as his Tala. And with a brief welcome he called Dane and Nash forward.

The brothers expected a ceremony with all the finery and formality that went with it. The pack operated on spontaneity and rolled with whatever happened. The melding of the two cultures would be a good thing for both sides. The brothers needed to learn to let their hair down and the pack needed to learn when to show a little restraint. Drew wanted the pomp and circumstance side of things over and done with. To him, it was more important that the two sides learn to respect and embrace one another's differences even if the entirety of what they were had to remain a secret.

He drew a deep breath and opened his consciousness to the universe. Calling to the ancient power he felt the waves build and crash over the bluffs, drowning everyone present in the force of energy older than time. He spoke in the tongue of his people. His words were rhythmic, the lyrics of a song that began long before the Earth was young. The heartbeats of the wolves and the brothers were the drum that kept the time and pace of his chants. And the magic that rode the currents of air the inspiration for the words that had never been spoken before. Golden threads of spirit wound their way through every soul, tying them together and binding them as one. Awareness poured from Drew and out along those golden ethereal strands of spirit energy fusing both sides as a whole.

Panting and shaking, trembling from the raw power he conducted, Drew gently lifted Tala's wrist to his lips. Tala was the equation, the sum of both worlds. She walked with earthly feet. Yet, she was spirit. She ate food. Yet, took her nourishment from the life giving force of blood. And she was the living bridge between the two halves of him. Staring into her eyes, he struck hard and true. Drawing her essence into his body. He stroked Tala's cheek and offered his wrist in return. He didn't flinch as Tala bit into his flesh with her tiny fangs and drew the life force out of him into her body. They drank and the magic between them, the golden cords flowing through every soul on the bluffs, settled into a harmonious hum of pure power.

All that power had to go somewhere and after it flowed through the crowd it dissipated into the woods bathing them in a splendor of golden light. Drew's skin rippled and the change reforming him wasn't painful. He didn't resist. He let it happen. And as the brothers watched with rounded eyes filled with wonder and the pack exhaled a collective sigh of reverent relief, the Great White Wolf emerged from his human flesh.

The Great White Wolf shook out his splendid slivery-white fur and sniffed the air. His arctic blue eyes scanned the faces his human host recognized as pack, as brother, and as friend. To the wolf, the shape made no difference. They were all Pack, each and every one of them brother and sister, and most cherished friend. He saw them on a level no wolf or vampire ever could. He saw beyond the various shapes and wrappers of their flesh and deep into their very souls. And they were beautiful. He walked through the crowd. His head held high and his footsteps sure, nobly like the beast and man, the leader he was.

Tears of joy rolled down Tala's cheeks. Drew was finally the man she knew he could be. From him she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Assuredness and confidence. He had brought the two sides together. He'd thought it was up to her and he'd no doubt give her credit she didn't deserve for doing something ultimately he'd done. She may have been the bridge. But, he was the man who walked across it. The taste of his blood was sweet, lingering on the tip of her tongue. There were things, the very things she'd accused him of. That she also needed to do to find the peace he reveled in within herself. She had never fed from anyone other than Drew. She'd hunted deer at his side and knew the pleasure of taking down the prey. But, she'd never taken anyone's wrist but his. She hadn't had the courage. And much as he'd found the bravery to embrace his wolf, she needed the courage to face her inner vampire.

Drew was a truly beautiful wolf. White and perfect. His ears erect and his eyes the clearest heart stopping blue she'd ever seen. His black nose twitched and snuffled at the air as he walked parting the crowd with the sheer force of his presence. He looked over his broad shoulder and looked at her. Tala smiled and saw Drew in there, in the depths of the Great White Wolf's eyes. Hands reached for Drew as if they needed to feel the reality of him before they actually believed it. It wasn't as if Drew wouldn't allow the fingers reaching for him to run over his fur. Wolves were very physical and touch was a form of communication. But, to the beholder, touching him was like touching a priceless work of art, tempting as sin and something you just didn't dare to do because of the sheer wonder and beauty of it. As if contact with it would somehow spoil the magic.

Dane dropped to his knees. Chris's hands were warm on his shoulders. Gently anchoring him to this side of reality. He'd seen the Great Father shift before on that fateful morning when Tala's life had been in such danger. He'd seen it. But, it truly hadn't been real to him before now. With the sizzle of power ripe on the air and the smell of wolf thick on the cool undercurrents of the breeze and his mind so totally open and aware of everything around him, there was no way to brush off the reality of it. Drew was a wolf in a vampire's skin. And how he'd managed to pull it off and still keep his sanity intact was a mystery to which Dane would have to give Tala credit for solving.

Dane knew the story and it still boggled his mind. The brotherhood had an extended family and the wolf that had been known only as the goddess's companion was actually the father of a great race and none other than their prophet. Drew had inherited the gift and the family he'd never known about from his brother. And Dane thought, considering that the sudden discovery of werewolves and the family born of legend and legacy, Drew had handled the whole thing remarkably well. There were still secrets. Things Drew hid. And more than likely Dane didn't want to discover. He was as good at keeping secrets as he was holding his temper in check. And the less he knew the better off he was. Dane dipped his head and stifled a chuckle under his breath as the Great White Wolf snuffled at his hair with his big, cool, slick wet nose.

Nash beamed with pride at his daughter. Tala dabbed at the corners of her eyes, watching her mate work the crowed in wolf form. He hated to admit it. But, he hadn't liked Drew at first. Hadn't liked the man's intentions toward his daughter. Destiny had other plans for Drew and for Tala. And Nash was glad he'd been wise enough to step to the side and let destiny do whatever it was going to do. As if he could have stopped it from happening anyway.

The roast pork smelled heavenly. The smell of barbecue and wood smoke made his mouth water. And several of the pack had ventured closer to the vampires for closer inspection of the offerings spread out across the tables. The human visitors had already begun the process of loading up paper plates with food. And while Nash intended to join them eventually, the first order of business was to call the pack together and pay homage to the beautiful full moon over their heads. Tonight they would let their wolves out to play. They would hunt. And they would feast.

He chuckled at the sensitivity of the vampires. Someone very thoughtful had discreetly placed a stack of t-shirts, shorts, sweatpants, and thick sweatshirts on a nearby table. Obviously, tactfully making the point that clothing was not optional. He had no problem placing the young in Mouse's and her brothers Tristen and Daniel's care. The vampires were too well behaved to cause any problems. Polite to the point it made his head ache. And snacking on one of the Pack would definitely be a breech in the fragile friendship they were starting to build. Nash supposed, although the vampires treated the humans like family, they were also their main course. Stripping off his shirt, he called on the power of his wolf and eased into his other, just as comfortable form. With a soft huff and a howl, he beckoned the pack to shift and to celebrate the night with him.

Daniel could do cool and aloof better than any bloodsucker. He stood on the edge of the crowd. Awestruck and marveling at the Great White Wolf, just like everybody else. But, with a tinge of cynicism dulling the true magnificence of the moment. Was it some kind of unwritten rule that all vampires had to be so damned beautiful? Everybody here was so perfect it made his head reel. He lusted, he ogled, and he was a storm of teenage angst and hormones. Too bad there wasn't such a thing as teenage vampires. Of course, for them, the women trapped in a girl's curveless body, that would be a curse of unspeakable cruelty. To never grow up, he could not imagine the hell that would be. The women paid him no attention. No female ever did. He watched them. And chuckled at the thought that he was probably drooling over women older than Nana.

There was one girl here, roughly his age. She wasn't bad looking. But, damn did she have the meanest scowl on her face. He didn't dare to brave the crowd to go over and introduce himself. A girl with an expression like that did not make friendly. He'd probably pull back a bloody stump for his efforts. Her name was Margaret, Mandarin, Magdalene, Maggie, or something like that. And she was related to one of the ticks somehow. He dismissed her almost as quickly as she'd caught his eye. She was human, probably a juice box with legs for the fanged, and therefore just as dull and ordinary as every other teenage human girl he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Tristen rolled his eyes at his younger brother's overt staring. He hauled the teenage ball of hormones over to the table by the scruff of his neck and shoved a paper plate in his hand. At nineteen, Tristen was on the verge of true manhood. He'd felt the bristle of magic across his skin and was certain the shift which would signify him as a man, would come any day. Daniel was a living, breathing, oozing, puss filled zit of a boy- man. And sometimes he embarrassed the shit out of him. Sure the females were definitely stareworthy. But, unless Danny Boy wanted his eyes poked out and his ass utterly kicked by the vamp males so obviously married to these luscious, curvy women, he'd do well to keep his eyes and his hormones to himself.

Tristen stuffed a deviled egg into Daniel's mouth before Daniel could unleash a string of curse words that would melt the enamel off the petite redhead's, with the misfortune of standing within earshot of his foul mouth brother, fangs. He smiled apologetically at the redhead and dumped a scoop of potato salad onto Daniel's plate. Daniel had the table manners of a caveman. Tristen was lucky if his kid brother bothered with silverware. And he'd embarrassed him enough for one night.

Marianne rounded up the young and dutifully passed out paper plates and plastic silverware. Thanking the blonde vampire for helping her keep the little ones in line while she tucked napkins into the necklines of t-shirts to make impromptu bibs. She groaned and rolled her eyes at the Laurel and Hardy routine that was her older brothers. If this were the future of her Pack, she wondered if she wasn't going to grow up to be Queen of the Dipshits instead of a pack mistress. Maybe, she should just spare herself the effort and join up with a traveling circus or something. Her job was not going to be an easy one and Dumb and Dumber weren't going to make it any easier.

The woods vibrated with the warmth of pack magic. Marianne could barely wait until she grew up. She had forever to go. Forever. She was just now in a training bra and time crept by at a slow crawl. She was wise beyond her years. And somehow, the vampires just got that. They treated her with respect. Dipping their heads and whispering brief hellos as she routed the little ones through the serving line and loaded their plates.

The young fascinated the female vampires. And more than once, Marianne had caught them out of the corner of her eye, wiping a drippy nose, smoothing a stray lock of hair back into place, tucking in a shirttail, and gently, almost longingly coaxing a little one back into the line out of the way of the crowd.

The males were much the same, without the hands on contact though. Diligently watching the steep edge of the cliff and the hot coals of the fire, making sure the young didn't wander too close to danger. Precariously, she balanced a young, a newborn, in the crook of her arm and juggled the plate in her hand while trying to keep the rest of the children corralled in one place. Wasn't easy. And it wasn't happening.

Janine timidly approached the young girl. Exasperated to her wits end, the girl nudged an unruly toddler back in line with the efficiency of a sheepdog herding a flock of lambs. There was something about this pre-teen that made her seem older by far than the two boys practically coming to blows over a deviled egg at the head of the line. Many of the brothers had abandoned the pretense of the cookout in favor of joining the wolves on the hunt. A couple, John Mark and, of course, her adorable Patrick, had stayed behind to hold down the fort. Cooking and serving guests was women's work. At least, from a male point of view and they'd abandoned them and left them to it.

There was an awkward comfort in the thinning crowd left behind, a mix of humans and vampires and Pack that for one reason or another hadn't joined the hunt. In the case of the Pack, she supposed it was because the ones hanging out on the bluffs weren't physically old enough to shift yet. And the humans, just simply couldn't navigate the woods at night. And the vampires, the women, thought it was just plain rude to abandon their posts as hostesses to tromp through the woods when there were so many mouths to feed. Janine crouched down, eye level to the girl, and held out her hands, gesturing to the baby. "May I?"

Janine could rationalize that she was reaching for the baby instead of the plate teetering in the girl's other hand because it was all she could do to tolerate the smell of food. That was true. But, it wasn't the reason. She wanted to hold that baby. Cuddle him in her arms and make funny faces at him. Coo in that soothing baby talk voice and in general make a fool of herself over the miniature bundle of joy. She'd never envisioned herself a mother. She'd thought once her biological clock stopped ticking she'd forget about it. Put the thought completely out of her mind. But, baby fever knew no timeline and obviously, no facts of simple biology. Now that she absolutely couldn't have one, she wanted her own miniature copy of herself and Patrick more than ever.

Marianne frowned at the vampire. For a minute, her mistrust got the better of her and she thought the vampire's eagerness to hold the baby was a very clever ruse. But, she saw the softness in the woman's eyes. It was not a look of hunger but one of longing. Biology played a cruel trick on vampires. They were sterile and incapable of knowing true immortality. And Marianne felt a twinge of sympathy deep in her gut for the woman's plight. Cautiously, she handed the bundle in her arms, Bruce Junior, over to the vampire.

Janine took the baby and cradled him in her arms. Gently, ever so gently, she ran her fingers over the soft, downy dusting of dark hair covering his smooth scalp. Lifting him up to her chest, she rested his head on her shoulder and patted his diapered butt. Lowering her nose to his neck she inhaled the freshness, the brand new baby scent of him. And a smile curved her lips. He was warm and soft and oh so cuddly. Wrinkling his nose, he grinned a toothless, lopsided grin, drooling out of the corner of his mouth as she baby talked to him. She didn't even mind as he grabbed her finger in his tiny fist and brought it to his mouth, sucking on the tip with his angelic lips.

Marianne watched the vampire holding Bruce Junior and realized there was no danger. Even when he made a poop in his diaper, the vampire wrinkled her nose and cuddled him even closer, asking where she could change him as she gently cooed and playfully chastised him for making such a stinky mess. Marianne directed Janine to the diaper bag and told her to knock herself out. The fewer diapers she had to change the better.

Janine held her breath and finished the job with vampire speed. Quickly depositing the diaper into a trashcan. The baby certainly smelled better and was his cuddly self in no time. She held him closely, swaying her body, rocking him, tracing the soft outline of his chubby cheeks with a fingertip. She was in love with another man. But, Patrick would understand. Smiling and wishing she could have one of her own, but accepting that was as impossible as ice water in hell, she cuddled with the borrowed baby and daydreamed of things that could never ever be.

Marianne watched the females play pass the baby. Bruce was a patient infant and soaked up the feminine attention like a sponge, cooing and drooling, putting on a hell of a show for the women. She felt sorry for them and wished there was something she could do. Today was the dawning of a new era. And with it dawned the hopes and dreams and the future of these two species on the edge of the distant horizon. Biology wasn't always the final limit of the law. And maybe someday, once she figured out the secrets of the universe. She'd be able to do something about it. And in the meantime anytime and she meant anytime the females had the sudden urge to cuddle a child, chase after a rambunctious toddler, or change a million stinky diapers, Marianne would be more than happy to help them out.

Chapter 38

Grant stared down at Claire and gently traced his fingertips across the curve of her cheek. They'd gone back to the cabin. Luckily, the boat made it without dumping them both in the lake. They'd had a wonderful day together. Feasting on the rest of the pack of hotdogs from last night, playfully bantering back and forth over the last cookie in the bag, and even indulging in what he guessed he'd have to call kinky foreplay. Dusting one another's bodies with the white powdered sugar from the donuts leftover from breakfast. Claire was sweet enough without the sugar. But, he'd sure as hell enjoyed licking the sweet treat from her skin. And when she'd licked him clean in turn, he'd almost whimpered from the pleasure of it.