Dawn's First Light

Chapter 48

Kayla stood in the shower shivering beneath the hot spray pummeling her body. She'd scrubbed every inch of her skin red and raw and she still didn't wasn't clean. The bastard hadn't laid a hand on her. Yet, she could feel Roark's taint staining her from the inside out. Leaching from her pores. Filling her palm with shampoo, she rubbed her hair into a white, frothy lather and scraped at her scalp with her nails. Never clean enough. Ever.

She slid down the slick tile wall of the shower and curled her knees up under her chin, huddled and rocking. White bubbles of fragrant shampoo cascaded over her shoulders and rolled down the drain. Kayla tugged on her hair by the roots and yanked her fingers through the matted strands. She didn't know whether to scream or to cry. Gasping and trembling, she buried her face in her hands and stifled the strange whimpering sounds escaping her throat.

Her limbs refused to obey the simplest of commands. Get up. Turn off the water. Climb out of the shower. Dry off. Dress. She couldn't force herself to do even the most mundane tasks. Kayla didn't want to think about what might have happened if Bryce hadn't hauled her off the bluffs. The compulsion to go to Roark was so strong. To crawl across the ground and debase herself at his feet...she'd almost...almost done it as if she was a mindless puppet and he controlled the strings. Her shame dragged her down and held her head under the current.

Some part of her self she could not begin to comprehend loved Roark and reveled in the abuse he heaped on her. Shamed and disgusted Kayla began to let her tears fall. She truly was one fucked up individual. Sick. Twisted. Damaged beyond repair. Filled with self-hatred and damnation, she scrubbed at her raw skin with the washcloth.

Screaming at her tears and choking on the hot water spraying down on her from the showerhead, she walked her hands up the tile and pulled herself onto her feet. Rage was a poor substitute for self-pity. Her father was a worthless piece of shit. And he was dead. She hoped he'd died alone in the dark. He deserved the unmarked grave nobody ever visited. Her past was riddled with bad decisions. And placing the blame on a dead man who had once been her father was far easier than placing it where it belonged, on her shoulders.

Kayla lifted her face into the spray and let the hot beads of stinging water pelt her skin. As if the heat and the pain would ever be enough to beat away the stains of her past and wash her clean. Everyone she'd ever cared about had betrayed her in one way or another. Her mother betrayed her by dying so young. Her father drowned her in the cheap whisky he drank after work. Countless men had used her body and bought her youth for the price of a hot meal or a soft bed. Roark purchased her for far less than that. He'd manipulated and turned her against the only person she could rely on. Herself. Keene turned his back on her when he ran. Even Bryce. He'd lied to her. He should have told her about Angel. She had nothing and no one. She was completely empty and utterly alone.

Turning off the tap, Kayla climbed out of the shower. Shaking from the sudden surge of cooler air, she padded out of the bathroom dripping wet and grabbed her pink bear from the dresser. Clutching the soft, fuzzy stuffed animal to her chest, she fell naked and wet onto the bed, rocking him in her arms.

Angel wanted her blood. Kayla would be a fool if she thought differently. Neither Angel or Roark would stop hunting her until she was dead. Shivering on the damp comforter beneath her, cold beads of water rolled down her bare skin. She curled into a ball around the bear's soaked fur and rocked back and forth. Roark vowed he would be back for her. And she had no doubt he would.

Her life had so few options. She could hide down here and stay alive. Or she could get it over with and hand herself over to him. She could die bravely on her own two feet like a woman or go out sniveling in a corner while she waited for him to tear through the brotherhood to get to her. She hadn't lived an honorable life, so far. And she'd done nothing to be proud of. Ever. But, she could change that. Do something worthy. Save someone else for a change. Hold her head high like a woman of honor. Face the devil and dance his dance.

Kayla climbed off the bed and pressed a kiss to the bear's fuzzy pink forehead. Slicking her hands through his damp fur, she set him down on the dresser and went to the closet. Bending to search the far corner of the closet, she retrieved the clothes she swore she'd never wear again. She buffed her skin dry with a soft bath towel and picked through the tangles in her hair. Roark didn't know the Kayla she'd become. He only knew the one she'd been. Determined to give him everything he asked for, Kayla pulled out the adolescent shades of glittery bubble gum pink makeup and began the task of resurrecting the old Kayla out of the ashes for him. Always for him.

******

The glossy, highly polished, black and white marble, tiled floor beneath Lori's head wavered dizzily with each step the vampire took. Waking up to find herself draped and carted over Angel's shoulder was a bit disorienting. Lori tried to look for clues as to where she was. But, the swinging motion of her body and the angle from which she dangled made her nauseous. She closed her eyes and moaned. Her belly lurched into her throat as the elevator started its slow upward ascent.

Cheerful strains of easy listening music filled the hushed, elegant compartment. From the odd angle of her point of view, she could see the toe of Roark's expensive, polished, black leather Italian loafer tap in time to the beat. Lori didn't care if she ever heard another bad instrumental version of 'Only Fools Rush in' as long as she lived. Which might not be that much longer. Choking on the gag in her mouth, she struggled to hold back the bile rising in her throat.

"Is that any way to treat our guest?" Roark chided, clucking his tongue in amusement. Angel glowered at him in disdain and dumped the girl unceremoniously into a heap at his feet. Terrified, Lori skittered in an uncoordinated tangle of bound limbs as far away from him as the gilded mirrored walls would allow.

Her school photo hadn't done her proper justice. Her skin flushed crimson with terror. And her green eyes rounded with fear. The strap of her yellow sundress had torn free and the bodice drooped to reveal the lacy edge of her bra. From scooting, her dress rode high on her thigh and gave him a glimpse of the frilly panties underneath. She was beautiful in her disheveled and confused fear. She smelled of the sweet, heady musk of sex, of Keene, and of blood.

Roark crouched down beside her and reached behind her head to release the gag from her mouth. "Better?" The scent of terror always brought out the predator in him. He smiled empathetically as he extended his fangs and lifted her wrists to bite through the bindings. She frantically tried to scoot away. But, in the confines of the elevator she'd only managed to pin herself in a corner. He crouched over her. Smoothing his fingertips down the curves of her lush thighs to the backs of her knees, where he played with the sensitive flesh at the tops of her calves. The girl squirmed uncomfortably beneath his touch. Ah, she had a tad of fight in her. He liked that. He squeezed her firm calves in his palms and slid his hands down to toy with the bindings around her ankles. He lowered his mouth to trace the path his fingers had blazed.

"Do you rape all your guests?" Lori blurted through her cracked, swollen, dry lips. His fingertips were strangely soft on her skin. The strokes seductive and arousing, confusing her with her body's unwilling response to them. She swallowed back a moan of pleasure before it could escape her throat. Keene was the only man she'd ever want. His touch, the only touch she craved. She shimmied to get away, out of Roark' reach. The smooth mirrored walls were cold against her back. The end of his ponytail tickled the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he lowered his mouth and worked a path with his lips from the hem of her dress to her ankles with his lips. She gasped, recoiling from the heat of his breath on her flesh. He anticipated that she'd draw up her legs and held her fast with his hands on her calves as he traveled lower to tear through the bindings around her ankles with the tips of his fangs.

"Now, now. Lori," Roark corrected. "I believe it is impossible to rape the willing," he said, freezing her in place with a knowing smile. Leaving her cowering on the floor, he stood and loomed over her. "I assure you that you are quite an honored guest in my home." The elevator ground to a halt and the gilded doors opened with a whisper. Insistently, he extended his hand.

Lori refused to take Roark's hand. She pressed her body as deeply into the far corner of the elevator as she could. Any distance she could put between herself, this homicidal egomaniac, and his pint sized assistant was a good thing. Despite her fear, she blushed crimson at his accusation. She didn't understand her body's reaction to him. It craved him on some elemental, primeval level that defied all logic.

"He's coming for me you know." Lori said the words with certainty and conviction as if by saying them aloud she could make Keene magically appear. "The brothers, they're all coming." A small squeak escaped her lips as Roark reached down and grabbed her wrist, dragging her to her feet and hauling her into the most luxurious penthouse she'd ever seen. As much as she hated that she'd been kidnapped and wished Roark was dead. She couldn't help but stare in wonder.

"I'm counting on it." Roark's eyes gleamed wickedly. "Let's cut to the chase shall we." He had to give the girl credit for putting up a brave front. But, that's all that it was, a front. He could smell her fear and feel her fingertips tremble in his grip. A bit of rough handling might gain her compliance. He forced her to her knees and gripped a fistful of her hair, pulling hard to jerk her head back. He bent low. His face hovered inches above hers. "If you'll cooperate, I won't so much as harm a hair on your head. But, if you don't I'll make you wish you were dead."

"Just kill me and get it over with. I won't help you," Lori rasped. She did her best to control her fear and slow the rapid beat of her heart. Keene would sense her terror. She wanted to curl up into a ball and beg for him to come rescue her. But, she'd only get the both of them killed and possibly some of the brothers along with them if she did that. Angel came up behind her and slid her cool hands along the tops of her shoulders. Lori couldn't suppress the shudder that ran along her spine. Black spots floated in front of her eyes. This was not the time to give in to her fear and faint. At least then she wouldn't know what they were doing to her. And that might be for the best. Pinned between two lethal vampires with matching sets of fully extended fangs and nothing but killing her at the top of their agenda, her fear won out.

"What do you want from me!" Lori shouted as her terror kicked into high gear. She couldn't move so much as an inch. Angel locked her fingers on her shoulders and Roark's fangs hovered inches from her neck. He held her chin trapped in his icy grip.

"Isn't that obvious? I want Keene. And you're going to get him for me." He pressed his lips to Lori's in a harsh stolen kiss. She tasted bitter, of fear. "Call him. Use your link and call to him."

"No," Lori panted. Roark held no appeal to him now. His lips were cold and relentless on her mouth. His tongue slimy as his fingers pried her jaw open and he forced his way into her mouth. She would die to protect Keene. This bastard wouldn't get his hands on him. Not if she could help it. Repulsed by the kiss, she curled back her lip and bit down as hard as she could.

"Bitch!" Roark backhanded Lori hard across the cheek. Her aggressive move was unexpected and unbelievably fast for a human. The wound she'd inflicted on his lower lip had already healed. But, she'd suffer badly for the insult done to him.

Lori saw stars under the force of his blow. Angel's hands, planted on her shoulders held her upright. She focused on anything she could think of, besides the pain of the throbbing, lump starting to swell on her cheek. If Keene sensed that she'd been injured. He wouldn't care if the brothers backed him or not. He'd rush in like an idiot and get himself killed to save her. She hoped the brothers anticipated how Roark intended to play the game and were watching over Keene. As long as Roark saw her as useful, he might harm her. But, he'd keep her alive. If Keene came alone and unarmed, her situation and her value could change quickly.

Angel stood still as a statue with her hands planted on Lori's shoulders. When the little fool had bitten Roark, a part of her wanted to cheer. But, the bigger part was bent on exacting her revenge on Kayla. And she quickly got over the twinge of remorse she felt for kidnapping an innocent girl.

Roark shook with rage. He was tempted to rip her throat out and drain her dry. But, her death wouldn't help his cause. If she died, Keene would sense it immediately. And this tiresome game between the two of them would continue to play on and on. He quickly regained his composure and straightened the lapels of his jacket with a skillful tug. "Angel love, could you be so kind as to show our honored guest to her accommodations?"

Angel grasped Lori by the upper arms and hauled her to her feet. Stopping, she pushed her into the bathroom. "Better use it while you can. You're going to be in the 'guest suite' for a long time." She knew better than to leave Lori unattended in the bathroom. There were too many ways for a human creative enough to take their own life. She should know. As a human, she'd thought of them all. She wasn't a perv and she didn't want to watch the human go potty. She turned her back and focused on the patterns in the tile as she waited for Lori to do her business.

Lori gulped down handfuls of cool water from the faucet and rested her chilly, damp hands on her bruised cheek. Today was her birthday and she was supposed to be spending it with her family. Stuffing herself silly on double chocolate fudge cake and her mom's infamous homemade pepperoni pizza. She'd intended to figure out a way to coax Keene into coming to her party to meet her mom. But, it didn't look like that was going to happen. She was twenty years old. Today. And she was most likely going to die in any number of horrific ways. Today.

Angrily, she wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes and sat on the toilet to do her business. Angel didn't watch her. But, having someone else in the room that wasn't her mom made it hard to get things going. Miraculously, she managed to empty her bladder and do a hurried clean up before Angel herded her out of the bathroom.

. Lori followed Angel deeper into the townhouse. Roark was one rich vampire. And although his tastes bordered on the overstated, showy, and almost tacky, she couldn't help but be fascinated by her captors. Angel didn't seem the type that would choose to hang out with Roark. But, then again maybe she didn't have a choice. Bravely clearing her throat, she took a breath. "You know, you don't have to do this. You could let me go."

Angel spun on her heel and grabbed Lori by the remaining strap of her yellow sundress, hauling her closer till they were face to face. Lori didn't know shit about her. The bitch came from a god fearing Midwestern middle class family. She grew up sheltered and loved. Until Keene deflowered her, she'd probably been a virgin. What did she know about life? Not a fucking thing.

Annoyed by the innocence in her voice, Angel dragged Lori across the floor and shoved her into a tiny, cramped, windowless, inescapable space that she personally had been forced into too many times to count while she waited for Roark's ministrations. Roark called it the 'guest suite'. She called it Hell. She said nothing to Lori. Simply slammed the door in her face and twisted the lock. Storming down the hall, she left Lori to wait for whatever Roark had planned for her. She wouldn't be so innocent or innocuously sweet after he got done with her. And as for what she knew about life, she'd learn a hell of a lot more soon.

Lori ran her hands along the smooth, painted drywall and kicked fruitlessly at the door, shouting at the top of her lungs for someone to let her out. Of course, nobody came. She could barely stand upright in the cramped space. And if she stretched her arms out she could touch the walls around her. Not even a beam of light from the seam of the door filtered in to break the darkness. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. And the sound of her heart beating far too rapidly thumped loudly in her ears. She'd always hated dark, enclosed places. They terrified her. The air dense and hard to breathe. Panic quickly took the place of fear. Crying and shivering, slamming her fist over and over against the door, she collapsed into a ball on the floor. Unable to tell if her eyes were open or shut, she stared into the impermeable darkness and begged for someone to come save her.



Chapter 49

Keene struggled against the heavy links of chain pinning his arms and legs. When he sensed that Lori had been injured and she was in pain, he'd reacted like any man in love would. He went completely berserk, ape shit, insane. It took five of the strongest brothers to subdue and secure him in the lengths of log chain. The chains rattled and bit into his flesh as he twisted and bucked helplessly. "She's in pain!" he howled in agony. Bellowing an enraged cry he grappled with the cold lengths wound around his torso and only managed to work the chains tighter.

Through their link, Keene felt everything that Lori did. Her fear. Her hopelessness. Her passion. Roark was a bastard. The foul son of a bitch seduced his prey. He gobbled up their gentle surrender and turned it into a sick game of dominance. He'd take more than her life. He'd steal her innocence. The things he'd do to her should be done to no human being. And the worst part of it all is that she'd participate in them of her free will and beg him to do them.

Roark never killed the girls, not right away. He toyed with them. Tortured and twisted them until they were irreparably broken and there was not a trace left of the women they had been. Bile bubbled up in Keene's throat at the thought of his pure, sweet Lori suffering at the hands of that madman. Lori was strong. She'd fight Roark. And that would only make what he forced on her worse. Better she succumbed and died, rather than endured one second of the torment that awaited her. Keene growled like a feral dog, lethal with fangs extended at the brothers. Loyalty aside, if he could get free, he would tear through them all to save her.

"I know and we're going to help her." Dane felt every bit of Keene's fury and anguish. The man was terrified for Lori. They all were. But, allowing him to go completely off the deep end would accomplish nothing, except getting him killed. Dane's only goal with this mission was to get Lori and the brothers out in one piece. Only one man deserved to die today and he wasn't in this room. "Keene, focus. Do you know where she is?"

"Of course I do. Roark isn't trying to hide her. He wants me to come for her. And I'm going to." Keene tried his strength against the log chains once more. The links held, trapping him. "I'm calm now. You can let me go." He was lying through his fangs. The minute Dane released him. He was good as gone. The brothers...his brothers, wouldn't get the chance to stop him twice. Consequences be damned. As long as Lori was safe, it didn't matter what happened to him.