Dawn's End

Megan sat back on her heels, admiring the toilet's white porcelain gleam. Maybe, O'Sullivan was just so good at manipulation that he'd totally snowballed her into believing he should be given a second chance. She was just a teenager. What the hell did she know about ancient vampires? He could probably lie the socks right off her feet while sucking her dry and she'd still believe he was a model citizen. Nah, she knew he wasn't one of the good guys. Teenager or not, she wasn't that stupid.

She put the toilet bowl cleaner back in the cabinet and sneezed at the powdery, chlorine smell of the scouring powder that had spilled onto the shelf. In her mind, she retraced the turns and twists that Maggie had driven on their way to the compound. The place was way, way, out of town on back, graveled country roads that wound deep into dense acres of woods.

Curiosity had her snatching her mother's keys from the hook by the garage door. Her driver's license was just a few months old. The plastic was still shiny new and her mom had only let her take the car out alone for quick runs to the store and back. The lie she was about to tell burned the tip of her tongue. "Mom, Shelly called and asked if I could come over to see the new outfits she got for Christmas." Megan shivered in her coat for effect. "It's cold out and I don't want to walk. Can I use the car? It's only a few blocks away and I'll be super careful. I won't be gone very long. Promise."

Her mom barely glanced up from the latest issue of Cosmo and gave her daughter a doting smile. Megan knew she'd won and pocketed the keys. Hated playing the dumb, clueless, teenager, but if her award winning performance got her the keys to the car, she'd do it again, shamelessly. "Thanks mom!"

The gas gauge was a little over half a tank. She was only supposed to be driving three blocks. Returning the car with the same amount of gas was paramount to her deception. Somewhere in her purse was a crumpled ten-dollar bill. That should be enough to replace the gas she would use getting to the compound and back.

She hated to lie. Her parents, especially her mom, were so clueless. If she told her mom the truth that she was driving to Dracula's castle to visit a demented vampire. She doubted if she would have gotten anything but a nice padded room with a view. Carefully as if she were driving with her driver's ed instructor perched on her shoulder, she backed the compact Honda Civic out of the driveway and shoved the gearshift into drive.

After a quick adjust of the radio from some dopey easy listening station to something a little more energetic. She turned left at the corner and pointed the car out of town. Her palms were sweaty inside the fluffy lining of her mittens. Her fingers held the steering wheel in a death grip. Part of her nervousness was the fear that she might get caught by her parents or tattled on by someone who saw her driving out of town. Her sterling image of the perfect teenage daughter would be irrevocably tarnished. Part of the cause for her worry was that even if she found the compound and managed to get inside. Drew might tell her no.

She slowed on the highway and signaled well before the turn off. Traffic was light, no matter what time of day. The town was just a wide spot on the road to someplace better. She steered the car carefully around the turn. The tires spun over the snow packed gravel and then caught traction. Her foot hovered between the gas pedal and the brake. The car inched along in the deep ruts carved through the snow by other drivers.

Usually, Megan liked the upbeat music blaring from the speakers. Today, with her conscience screaming in guilt at the violation of every ounce of trust her parents placed in her, the thumping beat grated her nerves. Irritated, she snapped off the radio and paid attention to the narrow lanes branching off the gravel road. All of the fields looked alike, like barren white table clothes stretched out on tables. Every tree looked just like its neighbor. Draped in bits of ice and snow, one indistinguishable from the other.

She had to find this place. She had to. It wasn't like Drew was her BFF and she had his cell number. She kept her eyes peeled wide for the turn. The lane was so narrow that she almost missed it. The car fishtailed as she spun the wheel and drove down a swath of road so skinny that if she accidentally over corrected she'd end up in a step ditch. Unsure as she was that the car was actually on a road, she gave the gas a gentle nudge.

She had to find Drew and plea her case. If Eric was going to be executed for something, well, for many things, one of which he'd done to her. She wanted to be there when it happened. Not because she had some desire to watch him get a stake rammed through his heart or however vampires were executed. No, she'd probably have horrible nightmares about it for months. Eric had been honest with her. He had told her how easily he could have killed her yet he hadn't. She owed it to him and to herself to be witness for his death. Eric had saved her life. She wasn't clueless like her mom and everybody else. She knew what was out there and how unsafe the real world truly was.

Chapter 78

Carter headed through the woods at breakneck speed. He needed a private place to retreat and gather his thoughts before the time came to fulfill his vow. His head was still reeling from his encounter with Shayla. Add his part in O'Sullivan's impending death and he was in no shape to be around people. He found no solace in the compound's many inhabitants. A quiet place, free from distraction was what he needed to get his collective shit together. The search for such a haven had driven him out into the daylight. At least, the sky overhead was an ominous looking gunmetal gray churning with the promise of an oncoming winter's storm, as cold and bleak as the thoughts rumbling in his mind.

A baby. Something else Carter could add to his long, long list of mistakes. He should have killed that werewolf when he had the chance. Instead, he'd handed the cur both kingdom and crown. He had no one to blame but himself. He had driven Shayla into that mutt's arms. Apparently, the dog was the better man. Crafty wolf. Tracker had seen the opportunity and he'd sealed his position in Shayla's heart with the one boon that Carter could never give. Tracker had given her a life, real life, not this dim substitute that Carter called an existence.

Carter was a man of his word. He would not interfere. Shayla had the chance for happiness and he, like an honorable loser had taken a deep bow and exited the playing field. His absence in her life was his gift to her.

She would hurt. But, that pain would be short lived, replaced by the joy of holding her infant in her arms. Her lifespan was longer than a human's. Perhaps three or four times that of a human's meager heartbeats. But, still a drop of water in a vast ocean compared to his. She'd forget him in time. Be too consumed and preoccupied with the task of living to dwell on the past. He'd never forget her and he had a very, very long time to remember.

Over the past couple of hundred centuries he'd forgotten what it was like to be alive. Perhaps, that was his draw to her. She made him remember. She was fearless and found joy in things that he took for granted. Maybe, he could have won her back. Romanced her with promises he had no way to fulfill. A child had been something he had not foreseen. Damn him, because he loved her he wanted what was best for her and the child in her womb. Both she and the baby deserved better than him. That dark thought had always been in the back of his mind since the day he met her. He should have listened to his intuition and stayed the hell away. If he had, he wouldn't have seen the storm clouds in her eyes and smelled the rain of heartbreak on her skin.

Carter had to push thoughts of Shayla to the back of his mind. He'd come out into the woods to clear his head for the immediate task at hand, killing his maker. Shayla was a distraction he could not afford at the moment. After all, he had numerous lifetimes left to dwell on his lost love. When the time came, he'd have mere minutes to get O'Sullivan out of the compound and seconds once they were free to carry out his task. He spent hours readying the blade strapped across his shoulders, honing the steel to a razor's fine edge. He wanted no mistakes.

Megan's car putted down the snow-covered lane. She could have sworn this was the road Maggie and she had taken to get to the compound. The white of the snow covering the narrow lane was pristine without tire track or clear path to follow. The deep gullies on each side were the only clue she had that the car was on a road at all and that she wasn't driving off into a cornfield. This had to be it. She wished there was more for her to navigate by. In the summer time, this might be a scenic drive down a little known path in the middle of nowhere. But, in the dead of winter with a storm looming in the sky over her head, she was starting to get a little scared.

Slicked with packed snow embedded deeply into the treads, the tires spun. So far, so good, she'd managed to keep the car from getting stuck in the snow or sliding off into a ditch. Good thing. She sure didn't have enough money to call a tow truck. If her parents found out what she was up to. She'd be grounded forever. Besides, her cell phone didn't get a signal this far out. If she got stuck, she'd have to walk to...someplace to call for help.

The compound had to be close. Megan wished she'd paid more attention that day when Maggie had navigated the path. Blanketed in white, everything looked like everything else. Somewhere nearby, there was a narrow hidden drive. Pressing on the brakes, even the subtlest of tapping on the pedal to get her bearings had been a mistake. Without the forward momentum of the tires to propel the car through the hilly snow drifts the tires spun hopelessly. She reviewed lessons from her driver's ed class and her father's endless preaching of what to do if she got stuck in the snow.

Gently, she shifted into reverse and toed the gas pedal. The car rocked and for a minute Megan thought she was free of the drift. She tried sliding the gearshift into drive. The engine whined and the tires spun, throwing clumps of snow in a shower of mud and gravel. After a few more times of shifting from reverse to drive, alternating from gently pressing on the gas to hammering the pedal to the floor, she gave up. She was stuck. Her fingers trembled as she flipped open her phone, hoping for a signal. Of course, she got nothing.

Although it was mid afternoon, daylight had faded to a hazy purple gray. Thanks to the time change, which was a pointless as three-inch heels on a pair of tennis shoes, by four, it would be getting dark. She could stay put and hope someone happened across her. Maybe somebody would. Or she could bundle up in her coat and the blanket her mother kept in the trunk and try her luck.

The main highway was miles away, too far to walk. Tree covered hills loomed ahead of her blanketed in snow and silence. Maybe, she would find the compound's obviously well hidden entrance before dark and get help. Vampires were strong. No doubt one of the fanged could get her car out of the rut she'd dug herself into without so much as breaking a sweat. Maybe if she could get high enough on the hill, she would be able to get a signal and call for help. Her dad would be pissed and she would be punished, but at least she wouldn't be a human version of a Popsicle.

Decision made to go for it, Megan climbed out of the car, giving the front tire a hard kick with her boot as she slammed the door shut. Couldn't buy a SUV could they? Her parents were all about the environment as long as it didn't inconvenience them. Well, she felt pretty inconvenienced now. She shivered as a cold blast bit through the thin lining of her coat. A hundred and fifty bucks on sale and she might as well have been wearing a bikini for all the protection the coat offered against the cold. If she didn't get help soon, her carbon footprint would be greatly reduced when she froze to death at the age of seventeen.

The blanket in the trunk was a fuzzy, fleecy one her mother had retired after white bedding had gone out of style. Great, now she was going to blend in with the snow. She'd hoped for red or neon green, some color that would make her stick out like a sore thumb against the bleak backdrop of winter. Gagging from the stink of must and nonuse, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and pulled a corner tightly around her head.

Some of the snowdrifts came up to her knees, soaking her jeans. Her toes were tingling from the cold and the tip of her nose was numb. The car was a little red blip in a sea of white behind her. In gym class she could run a mile in under ten minutes. She thought she was pretty physically fit. She hadn't even walked more than a half-mile and she was already tired and cold, so very cold.

Megan plodded on, shivering violently beneath the smelly blanket and her overpriced, useless designer coat. She was probably ruining the thousands of dollars her parents had shelled out on dental work by the chattering of her teeth. She came to a clearing in the trees, narrow, but wide enough to guide a vehicle through. This had to be the entrance. With a hesitant glance over her shoulder at the footprints she'd left behind, she entered the break in the trees. She could walk for a while and if she got lost, follow her prints back to the car.

Drew had told her that vampires and other things, the likes of which he did not say, hunted these woods. Maybe it was the cold or the impending darkness that made her forget to be afraid of the possibility that she was on the menu. After all, she was an unknown girl, traipsing alone through their territory. Something could eat her leave the leftovers to rot in the snow. By spring all that would be left of her body would be a pile of tattered, expensive, brand name clothes and a heap of bones. Maybe someone would be able to ID her body by the designer name splayed across her butt.

The snow was so deep. Megan's toes and legs were numb. She just needed a minute to catch her breath. All around her were tall, barren trees. Their limbs stretched up into the darkening sky like black fingers reaching to pull the darkness down around her. The bark of the tree was rough, scratching through the blanket and her coat. She slouched wearily, ignoring the sharp jabs of bark against her back. Just a quick break and then she'd get up and start walking.

The air she sucked through her chattering teeth was cold, stinging her lungs, making her gasp in its briskness. Closing her eyes against the hard spattering of ice that had begun to fall from the sky. She vowed to herself to apply to a good college... someplace warm and sunny...maybe Cal State...Florida Tech... or someplace...like that.

Chapter 79

The shifting, swirling winds spun bits of ice and flakes of snow into mini whirlwinds over the wide-open space. Carter moved over the frozen ground with purpose. The obvious place for his grizzly task had been selected. The Sons' holy of holies, the wide, flat expanse between tall sentinel like sheer, rocky, cliff fronts was perfect for his purpose. Eric's blood would bleed the white snow covered earth red in retribution for his many sins. Carter didn't believe in the all seeing, all knowing goddess Kokumthena. But the Sons did, completely, with unwavering faith. If Eric's blood sacrifice to the holy ground would keep the Sons from seeking out their wrath on him, so be it. Besides, what did it matter where, as long as the end result was the same?

The irony of the location and its similarities to the snowy plane on which he had ended Yessette's piteous life weren't lost on him. Once again, he would play the part of Grim Reaper. Murdering someone he cared deeply for, all for the greater good. The wind shifted, kicking up a spray of snow in its wake. Carter dismissed what his nose detected on the currents of air.

No human would be out here, this remote, in the cold and the dark. He'd caught the unmistakable smell of a human just the same. He had no trouble maneuvering over the ice-slicked snow to follow the scent. His nose twitched at the essence of humanity hovering in the atmosphere. His nose smelled a human female, but his eyes saw HER. Bundled in white, eyes closed, ice crusting in her lashes and weighting down tendrils of palest blonde hair, it was Yessette.

He dropped to his knees in the snow. His body trembled in disbelief. Certain he was driven to delusions by his grief. This specter was the embodiment of his haunted nightmares. He had killed her. She was dead. Of that he was absolutely certain. He had delivered her into the hands of a merciful death and she had come back to torment him. "Yessette."

Megan batted at the cold fingers caressing her face. Gently, as if she were made of porcelain, a palm smoothed back strands of her hair. She was so warm and cozy, drifting in between the knowledge of the dire reality of her situation and dreams of sandy beaches heated by the sun. She preferred the dreams to the cold stroke of the hands that held her.

The man's voice was as soft and gentle as his touch, and just as chilled with an almost ethereal quality. She didn't have the energy to force her eyes to open. Maybe she was dreaming. Couldn't her imagination at least conjured up some hunk in a speedo doling out pretty drinks served in coconut shells instead of Jack Frost and his freezing fingers? He called her by a name that wasn't hers. At least, if he was going to kill her or leave her to freeze to death he could call her by her name. Her lips moved, forming letters as she struggled to find the strength to force the breath from her throat. "Megan...my name is Megan."

Chapter 80

After hours of enduring endless congratulations and the smile pasted to her face. Shayla managed to slip away from the crowd. The start of a new life was something to be celebrated. Her mating to Tracker was as well. Her sister for one, she'd never been a big fan of Carter's in the first place, couldn't be happier to see Shayla's life on track again.

Along with more than a few envious female glances at her stomach, Shayla accepted endless hugs and countless pecks on the cheek from the females of her pack. Babies were treasured and the women who carried them exalted to a place of honor.

From the males, Tracker had gotten several macho claps on the back and masculine grunts of approval. His shoulder had to be bruised from the abuse, but he took it all in stride.

She would be happy damn it. She would ignore the ache in the center of her chest and make her own damn happiness. Later. Right now, she needed some air. The cold would help to soothe her frazzled nerves. Her wolf was silent in her skin, finally appeased by the mating. What the hell did her wolf know anyway?

Snow fell to the ground in a soft whisper. Pines rustled in the winds as if adding their needled sigh to hers. She longed for the solace of her wolf. As long as she was pregnant, she couldn't risk turning. There were superstitions. Old wives tales that warned if she transformed into her wolf, she could lose the baby. No one really knew if it was true or not. No pregnant woman took the chance to find out. She walked along the path that ended at the border of the woods and lifted her face to the sky. Fat snowflakes splattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She shivered at the dampness, but preferred its cold company to the stifling crowd in the house.

Her feet sank into the snow. Weather was of no consequence to her and she hadn't realized how high the drifts had piled up over the past few days. Her boots crunched and skidded over ice glazed mounds. Behind her she could still hear the festivities going on in the house. Warm light from the windows infused the darkness around her. She should be there, relishing the party. After all, the gathering was for her. She wanted to be alone. Happiness shouldn't hurt so badly. While she'd managed to convince herself that eventually this aching emptiness would leave and she'd done the right thing, all she wanted for the moment was to be alone.