Dawn's First Light

As a kid, Nurse Ginger had patched him up at least two or three dozen times during his many visits to the county ER. Over the years the woman had seen his bare butt more times than his wife. Nurse Ginger was the stuff of legends. She always had a smile and probably a hundred suckers stashed away in the pockets of her uniform. And she made the neatest balloon animals out of exam gloves. He bet she wouldn't have any suckers or smiles for him today. Gingerly, he hedged his way around the stoop, cringing as she cleared her throat to get his attention.

Slightly shamed at getting caught smoking by John Mark, Ginger blew out the smoke in her lungs and ground out her cigarette on the stoop. He'd grown up to be a fine young man. She'd never have imagined the little boy who couldn't seem to walk and chew bubble gum at the same time without ending up in the ER for stitches, would one day become a Son, and their Second no less. Her 'mom' senses were tingling on high alert. It wasn't like him to simply pop by for a social call. "John Mark, do you know where my daughter is?"

John Mark shrank into his leathers. Suddenly, he was six years old again and bare- assed beneath a ridiculous animal print hospital johnny sniveling into the collar of Nurse Ginger's uniform. He nervously scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes from her stare. He could lie and tell her that Lori had spent the night at the compound and was planning on going shopping with Janine today. No he couldn't. Ginger was Lori's mom. And did anybody ever lie to a mom and really get away with it? "Um...," he stammered. Where was Chris or Candace when he needed them? "Maybe, we should go inside."

Maggie practically fell through the screen of her open, second story, bedroom window. The guy walking down the stairs was gorgeous. A hunk worthy of the magazines that sometimes got passed around the girl's locker room after gym class. Her sister really was a tramp. Lori hadn't called and she hadn't come home last night. Lori must have a death wish or something. Their mother was going to kill her when she got home. The fight between the two of them was going to be epic!

She sucked in a breath as the drop dead beefcake followed her mom into the house. OMG! A guy like that in her kitchen? NO WAY! Maggie should do the right thing and at least warn her big sister with a text. After all, Lori's birthday was today. She flipped open her cell phone and then snapped it shut. Nah. Why spoil the surprise?

Avoiding the squeaky floorboard in the hallway, Maggie crept to the top of the stairs to eavesdrop. The guy's deep bass voice echoed up the stairs. But, he spoke so softly that she couldn't really overhear much of what was being said. He whispered in that tone adults used to deliver bad news. Like when they said words like 'cancer' or 'bankruptcy' or 'divorce'.

Maggie snuck down to the foot of the stairs so that she could listen in closer. She heard her sister's name mentioned in that critical tone of voice. And then her mom burst into tears. Maggie jumped to her feet and ran into the kitchen. "Mom? Is Lori ok?"

Ginger snatched up Maggie and clutched her to her chest. She tried to stifle her tears. But, they kept on falling. Her baby girl was missing. Taken by a Rogue Master. John Mark promised the brothers would find her. Bring her home safe and sound. He'd told her that to console her. She wasn't an idiot. Rogue Masters didn't spare anybody. The bastard would drain her baby girl dry and leave her for dead. It was every mother's worst fear. The phone call in the middle of the night every mother dreaded. Her baby girl wasn't coming home. She'd be lucky if the brothers managed to bring her back an empty shell to bury in the family plot. Lori was dead. And everyone knew it. "Lori's fine, honey," she said in a weak, trembling voice.

Maggie tried to wiggle out of her mother's death grip. For an old chic, the woman was strong. And she could not extract herself from her mom's hold. Yeah, sure, Lori was fine and that was why her mom was on the verge of hysterics. She shot the guy, slouched in a kitchen chair with his head down, staring remorsefully at the floor, a pleading look for help before she lost consciousness as her mom squished the air from her lungs. "I'm not a kid," she gritted between gasps for breath. "You can tell me the truth. Lori isn't fine."

John Mark could kick himself. He'd blurted out the truth without any tact what so ever. Needless to say, Ginger hadn't taken it well. She practically squeezed the life out of her youngest daughter out of sheer desperation. Gently, he eased Maggie out of Ginger's hold and guided Ginger to a chair. Maggie stared up at him. Her eyes round with wonder and amazement and her jaw dropping to the floor. "Hi," he mumbled.

Maggie cracked her neck and wiped her palms on her shorts. She thought her dad was big. But, this guy was huge. She had been reading Lori's diaries for years. Most of the stuff written on the pages in Lori's messy chicken scratches was just a bunch of boring, mind numbing crap. But, once in a while her sister made some very interesting entries. Especially, the ones she wrote about the Sons. "So, you're a vampire, huh?"

Both her mom and the sexy hunk of vampire manhood stared at her with their jaws dropping someplace below sea level. It was kind of irritating. And if she wasn't so worried about her sister, she'd probably just leave them sitting there like that while she went upstairs and went back to bed. "I told you, Mom. I'm not a little kid anymore." Maggie pinned the vampire with a hard stare. "So, can you really bring my sister back? Alive and in one piece?"

John Mark nodded and rose from the kitchen table. "I'm sure of it. I really should go. Please, Ginger, tell only who you must. And stay close to home. When Lori gets back, she's going to need her mother." He turned and gestured to Maggie. "And her little sister too."

Ginger nodded and watched John Mark leave. She rested her head on Maggie's shoulder as Maggie bent to wrap her arms around her. "I guess you're not my little girl anymore are you?"

"Mom, I'll always be your little girl. What do we tell Dad?"

Ginger sighed. This was the burden of the life she'd chosen, not only for herself, but for her daughters as well. For generations, the women in her family had handed down the secret and borne it with grace and silent dignity. "Nothing. We tell him absolutely nothing, until we have to."

Chapter 47

Angel pulled the van into the rest stop and screeched to a halt. At half past four in the morning the place was a desolate parking lot. Not even the semi drivers were crazy enough to pull their rigs in here after dark. Rest stops were dangerous places. You never knew what kind of lowlife you might happen across. And speaking of lowlifes, the King of Degenerates emerged from the darkness, right on cue.

Lori held her breath as the van jerked to a stop. She wiggled to her knees and craned her neck to see where they were. It was so dark. But, she could just barely make out the squat roofline of the rest stop's main building. She was less than ten miles from home. Yet, it might as well be a thousand. But, there might be people here. Somebody might hear her and call the police. Careful not to make any unnecessary noise, Lori scooted to the side panel of the van and lifted her feet to her chin. Before she could kick out her legs, the vampire snatched her by the hair and dragged her into the center of the floor. Twisting the hair in her fist the vampire yanked Lori's head to the side.

"Don't even think about it," Angel hissed. She was too close to getting what she wanted to let some insignificant, little human twit fuck it up for her now. "I'm hungry and you smell awfully damned appetizing. Don't push your luck," Angel growled, baring her fangs.

Bound and gagged there wasn't much Lori could do to defend herself from a hungry vampire. But, that didn't stop her from trying. The hunk of her hair clutched in the vampire's fist tugged painfully at her scalp as she bucked and kicked with everything she had in her. She screamed into her gag and threw her shoulder into the vampire's midsection to knock her off balance.

Roark growled in rage at the sudden ruckus in the van. He tore open the rear doors of the van and leapt into the back. Slamming the doors shut, he stilled the pair of women fighting like caged tigresses with a clap of his hands. The last thing he needed was for his protégé to murder the bait before he had a chance to use it. Harming the girl was his job. And he would take great pleasure in it, later.

"Angel, if you'll please drive the vehicle while I tend to our company," Roark said, waving her off with a brush of his hand. Angel did what she was told and slunk between the seats to scurry behind the wheel. Smart girl. He still required her assistance to drive them home, or maybe not. After all, he did have a fully accomplished driver quivering in a ball of terror at his feet. And how cruel would that be to have the girl drive herself to the scene of her own death. Too bad he was so particular about who he allowed behind the wheel to currier his most precious cargo, primarily himself. He had no doubt the girl would make every attempt to thwart his goals. She could crash into a wall or another vehicle and kill them all. Exploding into a ball of flame was lethal even for him. And so, unless she got in the way, Angel lived for the time being.

Curling up into a tight ball, Lori made her body as small as possible. She didn't dare to breathe too deeply. She stared unblinkingly up at Roark and quivered uncontrollably out of unbridled terror. The vague, foggy images of him she'd seen in Keene's memories were nothing like the man smiling down at her with a wide, welcoming, almost friendly smile that almost beckoned her in.

He was dazzling. Perfectly chiseled features and a strong jaw dotted with masculine stubble. His shoulder length hair shone beneath the dome light of the van. Sleek and rich in a deep walnut shade, it hung in soft, luxurious waves from a gold clasp fastened at the nape of his neck. His body was firm and lean, defined with muscle, not that of a body builder but more like that of an athlete, possibly a swimmer or a gymnast. His lips were sinfully full, made for kissing and sampling a woman's flesh. He wore an impeccable, expensively cut suit made out of dark cashmere. The off white silk shirt beneath was unbuttoned at the collar to show the hard jut of his adam's apple and the slow pulse of his carotid artery. He oozed charm and charisma from every pore. And Lori found herself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. Not caring if she got burned by the heat or not.

"You must be exhausted from your adventure," he said in a voice so sleek and seductive that chills ran up and down her spine from the sound of it. She flinched as he reached out to stroke her cheek with his cool fingers. Bringing his face down to hers, she had no choice but to look up to meet his eyes as he tipped her chin. "I suppose you know who I am. So there's no need for lengthy introductions, now is there." Lori nodded. His eyes froze her in place. The vampire was every woman's wet dream real and in the flesh. Except, for his eyes. On the exterior everything about him called to her on an instinctual level. But, his eyes, cold and hard, calculating in a way that no human being's could ever be, showed what he really was. Death.

"You should sleep, I think. Rest peacefully. When we arrive at our destination, you and I have much to discuss and much business to attend to," he said. Lori felt her eyelids begin to droop and the panic leave her mind. She struggled to stay awake. But, she was no match for the force of his will and she succumbed. As she drifted off, she felt him stroking her hair and his breath on her cheek.

Roark crouched back on his haunches and stood to take the passenger seat. They'd already delayed far too long. And he could sense the Sons closing in on their location. He could play with the girl later. And he would. "Shall we, my sweet Angel?"

Angel backed out of the parking space at the far end of the vacant lot and gunned the engine for the on ramp to the interstate. Roark was quiet, almost pensive as he stared out of the window into the darkness. She could almost hear him in her mind...plotting his next move. She glanced in the rearview mirror at the girl's unconscious shape crumpled in an untidy heap on the floorboard. Angel knew what waited for the girl once they arrived in the city. Let her float dreamlessly in the comfort of oblivion while she could and her life became nothing but a living nightmare.

******

"Their lives aren't ours to trade." Dane growled and crumpled the note in his fist. He paced the length of the war room with heavy, agitated steps. With a roar, he threw the crumpled note and watched it bounce harmlessly off the far wall and roll across the floor to stop at the toe of his boot. His anger wasn't helping. The boiling emotion clouded his judgment. The situation just kept getting worse and worse. Roark had tracked Lori's scent straight to her home. And that trail led him to her family.

Patrick confirmed that the son of a bitch and the female vampire they'd stupidly allowed to live had been in the house. They'd stood over Ginger's bed while she slept. Roark could have killed them both before the brotherhood could have done a thing to stop it. "Damn it!" he hissed. Dragging his hand over the short spikes of his high and tight paramilitary haircut, he let loose a string of curses that no decent person should hear. At least the women were safe now. Sequestered in the compound, under the gentle care of his wife and Candace.

He had a mess on his hands, a frantic mother and very confused little sister to deal with, and an oblivious father to keep in the dark. He could scarcely afford to lose the manpower at a time like this. But, he'd sent Sam and Marcus to keep an inconspicuous eye on Lori's father. He had failed to anticipate Roark's most recent move. And it was a mistake Dane didn't care to repeat.

Kayla claimed that she had not spoken to her father in over five years and had no other close relatives. No brothers. No sisters. Not even a remote cousin. She wasn't sure where her father lived anymore. It hadn't taken Toby more than three minutes at the keyboard to locate the man. Kayla's father was buried in an unmarked plot in a rundown cemetery just outside of the city. Made it easy for the brothers. Even though she showed the least glimpse of emotion when he'd broken the news, it had to sting to realize you were all alone in the world.

So far, Keene managed to keep it together. But, Dane had no idea how long it would last. Everyone knew one unspoken fact. The longer they delayed, the less likely it was that they'd get Lori back. There was only one way to get into Roark's stronghold without causing mass destruction and drawing way too much unnecessary attention. And the key to the front door, his gray eyes distant, cold and hard as steel, and utterly emotionless, sat at the conference table.

"We can't risk a head on attack. Though there may be another way. Perhaps we should give him exactly what he wants," Dane said. He wasn't a big believer in technology. But, he'd certainly written enough checks for Toby's toys. It was time to see if what he'd been paying for was worth the investment.

"Dane, what are you saying?" John Mark asked hesitantly. Dane would never hand Keene and Kayla over. Never. What in the hell was he talking about? Of course, there was no way they could barge in with guns blazing. And giving Roark what he wanted would solve the problem, temporarily. Roark was like a boil on your ass. No matter how many times you thought you got rid of it, it just kept coming back.

As John Mark saw it, there was only one way to ensure Roark didn't cause any problems in the future. And that was to kill him. Sounded like a good, solid plan to him. The only problem was how were they going to get close enough to do it? His mental light bulb flickered to life and illuminated the shadows. Of course! Keene! He was the only man who could get close enough, had the motive and the reason, and the lethal ability to do it. Keene knew the Rogue Master on a level nobody else could even begin to fathom. Keene was the most likely to succeed in taking Roark out of the picture in an eternal, send the bastard on a one-way ticket straight to Hell.

Keene bristled in his chair. How long were the brothers going to waste time discussing strategies? The answer was obvious. Send him in. Let him do what he'd been planning to do for over a century. Take the bastard out. He pressed his palms against the table's glossy surface, tensed his elbows, and pushed off to stand. He was tired of waiting. Tired of talking nonsense and options. Sitting on his ass did Lori no good. He was a man of action. And it was time to get the party started.

"Keene, sit your ass back down in that chair and let the rest of us do our jobs. This ceased to be a one-man show the minute you surrendered your life into the Great Father's service. If you think you're rushing in on your own, you're wrong. I will pull you off the mission if you can't keep your fucking head screwed on straight! There are enough lives on the line as it is. Saving your ass is not part of the plan. Don't make our jobs any harder than they already are."

Dane rarely used his power to drive home his point. He usually didn't have to. The authority of his word was enough to keep most of the brothers in line. But, Keene had a thick skull. And Dane wanted to be sure the man got the message loud and clear. He opened the conduit between himself and the brothers and let the power roll through him in waves of cold, white, energy. Keene felt it. Dane could see him shiver from the cool, pricking force. "Keene. Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Now." Dane nodded as the man did as he was told and parked his ass in his chair.

Keene exhaled as the energy assaulting his skin retreated and flowed into Dane. Damn. He'd never felt power of that magnitude before. His flesh was dotted with goose pimples and the hair on the back of his neck stood up at full attention as the residual waves of power tingled up and down his limbs. He gritted his teeth and focused on his leader. He could fight Dane. He could abandon the brothers and strike out on his own on a fool's errand to rescue Lori.

Deep down, he knew he had no chance of saving her alone. And his life did not belong to him to bargain with. He'd surrendered it to Lori and to the brotherhood of his own free will. Obeying because he had no choice had been easy. Obeying because he chose to was far more difficult. Surrendering his life and his will to the brotherhood and the goddess they served was what he'd chosen. And he would do this, for Lori and for himself. The bristling rogue in him that wanted to fight and rip Dane limb from limb for the right to protect what was his roared in outrage. Keene somehow found the strength to restrain the beast within him. With a clear head, he lifted his eyes and saw the world he belonged to clearly.

Dane nodded to Keene. The fog of Keene's rage lifted from the man's eyes. And Dane saw the warrior within rise to the challenge. "Let me have a few words with Toby first and then we'll get this party started." He left the room and his warriors behind the closed doors. The brothers needed time to clear their heads and get their collective shit together before he would even consider giving the mission the green light. His decisions were not lightly made. But, he would not sacrifice the lives of many for the one. Not when so much more, humanity as a whole, hung in the balance.

John Mark eyed the warriors seated and standing around the table. The mood was hesitant and troubled. They were losing sight of the goal, almost as if they'd already given up. Facing off against Roark and getting out with Lori alive did seem pretty hopeless. But, hey, they'd been through just as bad before. They all could do with a little enthusiasm. Unfortunately, he was fresh out of pom-poms to shake for the team. "Well, I guess we can sit around and rotate with our thumbs up our collective asses, like a bunch of damned rotisserie chickens on the spit, or we can actually do something. I vote for doing something. Get fed, kiss your girl, weapon up and meet back here in an hour ready to kick some serious Rogue Master ass. Move it ladies, we've got work to do."