Dawn's Innocence

"I didn't say that," Marianne huffed impatiently. Evan was a tender soul. Gentle, almost fragile and he was very timid. She could imagine what things were like for him here, so far from his home. The tragedies this little boy with such an old spirit had seen in his young life were the stuff of nightmares. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. She just wanted him to eat his cereal quieter.

"You do like me, don't you!" Evan beamed. He saw things. Things hazy and way off, that would happen in the distant future. Things, he'd tell her when they were older, much older. He smiled innocently, acting clueless as he usually did. Especially when it came to girls. To her, he was a pest. He wasn't exactly fond of her either. That would change. He wasn't old enough and neither was she, but someday, they would be. And they'd like each other then just fine. They were going to fall in love, get married, and make lots and lots of little Evans and Mariannes.

"I didn't say that either." Marianne got up and brushed the crumbs from her toast onto her plate. Depositing them in the trash and her plate in the sink, she walked away. She cast a backwards glance at Evan. He was such an odd little boy, cute, in a way, if one liked cereal slurpers and milk dribblers. Immediately, she forgot about him and mentally shifted gears the way young minds did. She was already thinking about the dreaded world of Geometry and the assignment her grandpa expected on his desk before noon.

Carter perched on the rooftop of the highest building he could find. Maniac. He was becoming a stark raving lunatic. He looked down at the bustle of humanity below. Traffic whipped past the building. Humans shuffled along busy sidewalks. The world was oblivious to the lunatic hovering over them. He'd wandered all night searching for an answer. A cure to the presence he'd concocted in his mind. The purity and light buzzed in the back of his skull. He'd never be rid of it. The sweet voice grew louder and louder with each passing day. One day, it'd be too loud and he'd crack under the strain. Then it would be game over. His beloved Guardians would put him down like the rabid dog he'd become. They'd have no choice. He wouldn't be safe and neither would anybody else.

He had no one to turn to. What would he tell his most trusted Guardians? Sorry, but your leader is losing his mind. If he told the Great Father or any of the Sons, they might be kind enough to go ahead and end it for him before he became a vampire gone insane. They'd be quick about it and use one of their lethal blades and separate his head from his neck. At least, his death would be a mercy killing. He didn't know how much longer he could go on in this condition, hovering between sane and bat shit crazy. Every moment that passed, he grew weaker and crazier and the presence, the damned sing song of innocence and love, grew louder and louder.

He shielded his eyes from the blinding glow of the orange orb burning away the last of night as it ascended above the rooftops and awoke the city below. The sunlight was painful. Etching a pattern of color and wavelength as its brilliance seared his fragile corneas. How long had it been since he'd seen the light of dawn without agony? How long since he'd seen the world illuminated in the splendor of dawn without shying away and seeking out the shadows?

He lowered his hand and turned his face toward the menacing brilliance. Carter forced himself to endure the pain. The sun was warm on his face, caressing him with the heat of a lover's touch. Breath hissed from between his pursed lips as he forced his eyes open and stared directly into the blazing ball of light.

Light was for humans, not for his kind. The day belonged to mortals and the vampires were the kings of shadow. He should leave the humans to their precious day and let them have it. Skulk in the shadows as he had done for centuries, king of nothing but the empty void of night. The presence was for the pure at heart, not for the wicked in soul, not for him. He needed to think. Someplace quiet to regain his composure and come up with a plan to rid himself of the angelic voice for one and for all. Just as he could not truly ever exist in harmony with the light, he could not coexist with the presence that had taken up residence in his mind. Either he or the presence was going to have to go. He was going to do his damnedest to make sure that it wasn't him.

Determined, he walked bravely beneath the burning rays of the sun shunning the shadows that had protected him for so long. He was going to have to face the devil if he were going to defeat it. Find the source of the presence and eliminate it. The presence was in his mind. He felt it deep within the synapses of his brain. He'd seek out the quietest place he knew of and there battle the enemy head on.

Shayla sat on the doctor's exam table. Almost driven to tears when he placed the probe over her stomach and the image of her baby appeared on the view screen. A new life was blooming inside of her, so perfect and beautiful. She smiled happily when she heard the baby's tiny heartbeat drumming wildly like a hummingbird's wings. She reached up and grabbed her sister's hand.

"That's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen," Ruby muttered in awe. She had no medical training. But, even she could recognize the little fingers and toes, the spindly legs and arms, and the round shape of the baby's head.

Thomas guided the ultrasound probe over Shayla's stomach. Gently pressing here and there to coax the baby to turn. After a minute or two and some adjustments, he found what he was looking for. "Mom, do you want to know if you're having a boy or a girl?"

Shayla glanced hesitantly at Ruby. Her sister's eyes glittered with the want to know. Shayla's heart was beating wildly as the baby's. "What do you think?" This was her first baby and in a way she wanted to know, but in a way, she didn't want to wreck the surprise.

"It's up to you," Ruby said gently. She was there for her sister, but she wouldn't make this decision for her. When she was pregnant with Evan, she'd wanted to know. Hanning had wanted to as well. She tried to be supportive for her sister, to play her part and play it well. But, a kernel of jealousy had taken root in her heart and it spoiled the moment with the bitterness of its seed. Ramon should be here. He should be the one gently holding Shayla's hand. And he might have been if Shayla had done a better job of keeping him under control instead of encouraging him to take part in the rebellion.

Yes, it was wrong of her to blame Shayla for Ramon's death. And in part it was her guilt for those feelings that had her here, being Shayla's rock. She couldn't focus her anger on the person who truly deserved it. Ramon was stubborn and headstrong, committed beyond reason to his mistress and the pack. He would have never kept his mouth shut and his head down. Subservience wasn't in his psychological makeup. He was not an alpha, but he was alpha enough to die for a cause he believed in. Shayla should hate him for getting himself killed and leaving her like this, with a child to care for on her own. Looking into her sister's eyes, she saw the glittering sheen of tears wavering in their dark depths. Shayla was the perfect picture of a widow in mourning, as it was her right to be. But, she wasn't the only one who loved, who mourned. Ruby ached, she hurt, and she had no other choice but to hide it the same way she'd been hiding it for years.

"Is the baby healthy?" Shayla asked nervously. That was the most important thing for her. As long as the baby was healthy, the sex wasn't as important. Still, the curiosity gnawed at her. Ramon would want to know. She stared at the monitor, trying to see if she could tell. She saw something, might be a teeny tiny penis or it could be a toe or a thumb. She wasn't sure.

Thomas smiled at the new mom and winked reassuringly. "Everything looks good. I can't give you a due date yet. Wolf pregnancies are too unpredictable for that. But, I can tell you that you're having a..." he hesitated grinning. He was beginning to build quite a nice side clientele in the paranormal world. He was more confident in handling his wife and Shayla than he had been with Claire. With Claire, he didn't have a clue of what he was doing. At least now, he could give a good guess at what to expect.

Shayla felt the pressure building in her bladder. She was going to pop soon if she didn't get to the bathroom. Thomas kept the probe in place hovering over her unborn child. She took her reassurance from the whoosh-whoosh of her baby's heartbeat. Thomas was a kind man, patient, and confident in his vocation. It was hard to believe a human had any place in her world. But, he belonged. "Ok, tell me. I can't take the suspense."

"Congratulations mama, you're having a baby boy," Thomas said. He loved this part of his job. The happy parts made up for so much of the bullshit that came with being a doctor. Telling someone good news was so much better than telling the bad. Birth was a positive experience for patients. Oh, she'd cuss him and the entire world, when the time came. Claire who was always as cool as a cucumber and so calm and poised, proper to the point butter wouldn't melt in her mouth had sworn like a sailor when the labor pains hit her in earnest. Grant was lucky he still had his man parts intact.

Labor was the ugly part, the scary part of bringing a new life into the world. Wolf deliveries were fast, painful, terrifying, and sometimes deadly for both the mom and the baby. He had never lost a patient and wasn't going to lose these two on his table either. He moved the mouse, pointing out the baby's sex with the arrow on the monitor.

"A firstborn male," Shayla breathed. Smiling like a banshee tears sprang to her eyes. Ramon had gifted her with a son. He'd be whooping and hollering, passing out baby blue bubble gum cigars, and preening like a peacock with pride. She felt his absence as if it'd hit her like a ton of bricks weighing her down. Ruby tried, but she couldn't fill the empty void. This was no place for tears and she hurriedly blinked them away. She was carrying a firstborn male, the future of the pack, and the last remnants of her past. Ramon wouldn't want her sad and crying. He'd expect her to hold her head up and throw her shoulders back, to be brave and not shed one single tear for him.

"What a blessing," Ruby agreed. Her bitterness and rage had no place here. Her feelings for Ramon never had any place remotely near her sister. Genetics had picked their mates for them. Ramon and Shayla had mated simply because they were the better genetic match. He hadn't loved her. He'd come to love her, but in the beginning, he'd only been doing his duty to the pack. That baby her sister carried in her womb was a part of Ramon. How could she ever hate what she'd loved?

"Are you going to name him after his father?" She asked cautiously, not wanting to upset her sister. Ramon would have been so proud. Whether the baby had been a boy or a girl, Ramon would have been thrilled. He would have made such a good father. Shayla was going to be an excellent mother, but Ruby worried about the baby. Her sister would have to be both mother and father. How could she be both?

"Yes. He would have wanted that." Shayla blinked away a stray tear of sadness. She promised herself that her days of crying and living in the past were over. Sometimes though, the memories and the loneliness overwhelmed her and she indulged on occasion. She took Thomas's hand as he helped her wiggle into a sitting position on the table.

She'd been hesitant about going to a doctor and not relying on the midwife for her care. But, Claire, bouncing her beautiful son on her lap, sang Thomas's praises. And Jan had encouraged her to at least give Thomas a try. She had not been disappointed. Thomas was young, even for human standards. He handled her with gentleness and confidence. He had kind eyes, strong capable hands, and a gentle, caring demeanor that came from a man in love with his work.

"Ok then." Thomas made some notations in Shayla's chart. "Get plenty of rest and don't be afraid to give me a call if you have questions. The only stupid question is asking whether or not you should ask." He patted Shayla's knee and gave her hand a light squeeze. "I'll see you next week." He washed his hands and went to his office to file Shayla's chart away. It was barely five in the morning and he'd already seen his first patient. His shift in the ER started promptly at seven. It was going to be a long ass day. Up at three thirty, then a quick run on the treadmill before breakfast, and straight to the compound to examine Shayla, and who knew what the hell was going to roll into his ER today. But, he loved it. Even though he had to deal with his fair share of idiots, he was one of the lucky few that loved every minute of being a doctor.

He hated to admit it, as sexist as it sounded. But, he liked having Jan at home. She was due soon and he'd placed her on maternity leave. Her belly was so huge, round and firm with his child growing inside. Tonight, she was making salmon on the grill for supper and those little baby carrots he loved. She'd had his egg whites and toast ready for him every morning. The house had never been cleaner, well, not since he'd fired his mom from the job. He did his part too. He made the living. Since Jan couldn't find her feet because of her belly, he clipped and painted her toenails and rubbed lotion on her swollen legs. It was a much quieter life, a happier life than the one he'd once seen himself living. Things were finally in balance. His mom was going to live...forever. His wife was about to deliver their first child. And he, hip deep in the paranormal as usual, had finally found a place where he belonged in their world.

Chapter 39

Kacie stared up at the vampire as if he'd sprouted two heads. The wake up call had come almost as soon as she'd closed her eyes. Rudely, John Mark had barged into Tristen's room, flipped on the lights and unceremoniously dumped her out of the bed and onto the floor. So far, day two of her training was going just as splendidly as day one had. Begging for her old job back at the Super Center was looking better and better.

The morning had started out with a ten-mile run through God's country. She was shivering, covered in mud and goop, hungry, and sore as hell. Obviously, the vampires had never heard of a continental breakfast and a hot cup of coffee to start the day. Noooo, she was dragged out of bed and shoved out the door after receiving a generous three minutes to pee and dress in the fatigues John Mark had tossed at her. Maybe the fact that the vampire didn't stop to eat breakfast was a good thing, considering she was a walking juice box to him.

Tristen had snorted and rolled over, immediately going back to sleep. Indulging in a warm bed as she tromped through the rain soaked woods, panting at the vampire's heels as she struggled to keep pace. She bet Tristen had bacon and eggs this morning while John Mark had thrown a handful of pine needles at her for breakfast.

She stared at the damp, moss-covered log bridging a deep ravine. "I'm not doing that," she said incredulously. The maniac wanted her to trot across the log like a circus performer on a tight rope. The log might not support her weight. She might slip and fall and go crashing to her death into the frigid stream below.

John Mark scowled down at Kacie. Werewolves and their fear of heights. He rolled his eyes in irritation. She didn't trust him and that was the mindset he was trying to break her of. "Move it, princess!" he barked. He was teaching her, or trying to teach her a lesson in trust and overcoming her deepest fears. Vampires were agile and fast. Heights, crawling into narrow dark places, shimmying up trees, or dozens of other defensive positions were not a problem. Wolves hated dark, cavernous places. They were terrified of heights. They liked the open sky above their heads and the earth solid and firm beneath their feet. And well, in this line of work, the surety of both was never a guarantee.

If she couldn't face her fears, she had no business being on patrol. He could not predict what situation she might face or whom she might face in the deep woods she wanted to protect. If she couldn't learn to trust her partner, she'd be so busy watching her own back that she'd be vulnerable to attack and leave her partner wide open.

"No." Kacie crossed her arms and stared the vampire down. Idiot. She was not trusting that the log was safe. How did HE know the thing wasn't rotten in the middle?

"I said GO!" John Mark bellowed. Shoving her toward the log, Kacie dug in her heels. She was stubborn and pig headed, but then again, what woman wasn't? If he could just get her to take the first few steps, the rest would follow naturally. He leered down at her. Her weak spots were easy to find. She was full of pride and overconfidence in her self-sufficiency. "Are you afraid?" he goaded. "I should have known."

"I'm not afraid," Kacie huffed. She eyed the log. The longer she stared at it the wider and deeper the ravine seemed to become. Timidly, she placed one foot on the slick moss. Balancing precariously, she stepped up onto the log. The rotting wood groaned beneath her weight. John Mark was not going to give her a free pass. He wasn't going to let her turn around and go back, unless she gave up and quit. She was not a quitter. Inching out, she looked down. She shouldn't have. She really shouldn't have. The ravine became a deep chasm, a bottomless pit with a raging river below it.

"I'm not going to let you fall, Kacie. You have to learn to trust me," John Mark coaxed gently. He could smell her fear tainting the lush fragrance of the woods with an acrid scent. Her eyes were wide and wild. Her limbs trembling as she perched on the log. "Go." He motioned with his hands to get her moving. He was a big believer in self-fulfilling prophecy. If Kacie believed she was going to fall, she was going to fall. He had to get her over her fears and prove to her that she could do it.

Kacie took a deep breath and began picking her way cautiously across the log. Her knees trembled with each slippery step. She held her breath, focusing on the other side. Ignoring the groaning log and the rushing water beneath her feet, she inched further out. Midway across fear took a hard bite into her. The other side might as well have been a hundred miles away instead of a few feet. Shaking, her legs buckled and she lost her footing. Grappling for a handhold on the slippery log, her feet dangled above the long drop down.

Tristen was in the brush watching. Silently cheering Kacie along. John Mark wouldn't have let him tag along. He would have been too much of a distraction for her. This was a test that had to be taken alone. Sucking in a breath he watched her stop in the middle. He saw doubt spread across her face. She wasn't going to make it to the other side. She was stuck there in the middle. He gasped as her feet slid and she tumbled. She hung, barely able to maintain her grip on the slick log. The brush rustled and snapped as he bolted from his hiding place and tackled the log.

"Hold on, Kacie," Tristen said with a low and calm voice as he danced across the slick mossy log with graceful steps. "Its ok. I'm coming for you." He gauged the strength of the log to support both their weight as he approached the center. Kneeling carefully he wound his fingers into the hood of her jacket and hoisted her up while she flipped a leg over the log, straddling the slick surface between her thighs. She gripped the log, laying flat across the moss and muck that covered it. Panting and terrified, she hung on. Obviously, she had no plans of moving forward or backwards. "You're ok," he soothed.