Dawn's Innocence

"You didn't tell him what he wanted to hear exactly when he wanted to hear it," Marianne answered bluntly. Marianne knew her brother. Most of the time he was a decent guy, but he was still a guy and judging by the musky scent in the room, a sexually frustrated guy on top of it all. Tristen, for all his good qualities, had their father's hot-blooded male temper. Not very often did he let it rear its ugly head, not nearly as often as Daniel, who seemed to live in a constant state of pissed-offness, did, but it was there like a fire breathing dragon lurking beneath the surface.

She plopped down on the bed and consolingly patted Kacie's knee. Extending the box of tissues, she shook her head as Kacie reached into the box and plucked out a healthy handful. There was a trail of crumpled tissues from the bed to the dresser, to the closet and back to the bed. Kacie had been crying and snotting quite a while, apparently. Poor thing. Marianne wished she had some insight to offer Kacie. She really didn't, other than the fact that Tristen had always been a Dudley Do Right and always would be. Of course he wouldn't take things any farther between the two of them, not without a ring planted on Kacie's finger.

"I don't want to promise what I'm not certain of."

"As well you shouldn't." Marianne picked up the soiled wad of tissues and replaced them with clean ones. The tissues were damp with tears and snot and well, kind of gross. Discreetly, Marianne aimed for the trashcan across the room and frowned when she missed and the heap landed on the floor. To her, this whole mess seemed like a lot of trouble over nothing. The whole thing boiled down to Tristen's pushy demanding and Kacie's 'welcome to the land of Oz' denying when it was so obvious the two of them were in love with a capital L.

"Thanks." Kacie dabbed her eyes with the dry wad of tissues and took a deep shuddering breath. Staring at the little girl that somehow had transformed from a twelve year old to a forty something woman, she asked, "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Do you love him?"

"Of course. I just don't know if I love him enough to promise him forever."

"Patience never was Tristen's strong suit and commitment certainly isn't yours," Marianne said. She wasn't condemning or judging. She was just simply stating a fact. The window of opportunity was wide open and she took advantage of it. Nonchalantly, she unzipped the bag Kacie had packed and began putting her things back into the various drawers they'd come out of.

"I can't believe he asked me to marry him," Kacie mumbled in disbelief. She felt horrible about the way the whole thing had gone down. She really could have handled it better on her end. She could have gentler with him and taken just a few extra breaths to think before she spoke. She'd undermined his faith and his love in the sum of a few poorly planned out sentences.

He'd left and had given no indication as to when or if he'd be back. She'd wounded his pride deeply. Kacie picked at the wad of used tissues on the bed and tore them into a shredded, damp, and snotty heap. He'd hurt her too. Maybe, if she'd known a marriage proposal was coming she would have been better prepared for what to say. Things were bad, worse between them than what they'd ever been. And maybe, there wasn't any coming back from it. "Well, I guess it's too late to worry about that isn't it?"

"It's never too late. Give it a couple of days and see how you feel then. Give him his space. He'll come back. Just wait and see." Marianne was pleased with her handiwork. She'd stopped Kacie from leaving tonight and hopefully, gotten her to cool her heels for a while.

"You don't think he's given up on me?"

"My brother? He never gives up. Not a chance of that." Marianne coaxed Kacie to stretch out on the bed and tucked her deep under the covers. Now if she could just get her brother into the empty space in the bed beside Kacie, everything would be as right as rain. She knew better than to approach Tristen about Kacie right now. Tristen would reach his own conclusions about her in his own time and in his own way. He was probably in the garage right now, working on his car and thinking it through.

Tristen had wounded Kacie deeply. Marianne didn't doubt the depths of Kacie's feelings for her brother. Kacie just needed more time to realize them for herself. But, like the big dumb lummox her brother could be, he'd gotten too pushy and too demanding. Earning back Kacie's trust wasn't going to come easily. Space was the best thing for Kacie and her brother, for now, until they both got a clue.

Kacie pulled the covers tightly under her chin and tried like hell not to sink into another crying jag. The bedding smelled like Tristen and didn't that make the water works want to start all over again. Mouse had left her alone in the dark with plenty to think about. For a kid who probably hadn't even gotten her first real kiss from a boy yet, Mouse was incredibly insightful about relationships. Mouse was right, of course. Tristen just needed time to cool off and so did she.

Things were moving too quickly between the two of them. Tristen was so ready to get to the end point while she hadn't even made it out of the gate yet. Tristen talked about the bigger picture and she had barely a snapshot of what she wanted for her life. Kacie didn't believe in forever and that was the whole crux of the problem. Forever was the only thing Tristen believed in. Maybe if she gave him more space and he gave her more time, the two of them could meet somewhere in the middle. She didn't want to lose him, but she didn't want to promise him something she didn't know for sure she capable of promising.

Did she love? Yes. Did she have depth of emotion for him? Yes. Was that what this legendary in love Tristen kept demanding actually was or was it something more? Kacie blinked out into the darkness and the shadows the moonlight filtering through the curtains cast into her bedroom. The realization hit her like a freight train careening down a steep hill. It wasn't love versus in love that was the problem. It was her fear that was the problem. She was terrified of losing him, but if she kept on the way she was, it would happen and he'd be gone for good.

Forever might not exist in the context that Tristen believed it did. But, that didn't necessarily mean today- one day couldn't stretch into the next and into the next until the accumulation of the sum of each and every one of them equaled forever. Shit happened and shit would continue to happen just as it always had and always would. But, that didn't mean you didn't keep on trying and trying and giving it everything you had. What she had with him in the here and now was better than a thousand wispy promises of forever.

He'd taken all the options from her. Mouse was right about that. She'd have to wait him out. Be patient with him and content with just her lonesome for company in this big bed until he got over himself enough to come to her. Until then, she sniveled and shuddered on the verge of tears again. The nights were going to be a hell of a lot colder and longer without him.

Tristen raged in the garage, scattering tools and cursing beneath his breath. The fresh air did little to soothe his temper or calm his nerves. Kacie had gone too far. Begging him to sleep with her without so much as promising anything more than a fickle affection. "I love you Tristen," he mocked in imitation of her. Yeah right, if she loved him so much then why had she turned him down? Hell, she hadn't even had to think twice about his proposal before the words tumbled out of her mouth. He'd been ready to risk them both for what might have been the best hour or two of his entire life. And for what? She didn't love him. He was good enough to bed...temporarily, but not good enough to marry.

"A word if I could Tristen."

Great! Fabulous! Her mother had climbed out of her warm bed and come down to the garage to, no doubt, chew his ass for upsetting Kacie. "What!" he growled. Spinning on his heel, he prepared to bowl past her in search of someplace less crowded than the empty garage to hide. Eloise stood in the doorway, wrapped in a beige satin robe, imploring him to cool his heels with her emerald eyes. He sucked in a breath and blew it out nice and slowly to calm himself. He didn't have a reason to be rude and disrespectful to Eloise. Just because she didn't hold the title didn't mean her presence wasn't every bit as commanding. "Sorry, I hope my fight with Kacie didn't wake you. You should go back inside. She probably needs you."

"I'm not here because of my daughter. I'm here because of you." Eloise toed around the scattered mess of tools and righted the lawn chair Tristen had sorely abused in his fit of rage. She gracefully took a seat and waited quietly for Tristen to do the same in the empty chair beside her.

"You're not here to kick my ass for upsetting Kacie?" Tristen asked hesitantly as he dropped down into the lawn chair beside her. Eloise looked so out of place in the filthy garage. The hem of her silk robe dragged the concrete floor. She was barefoot and the pink nail polish on her toes was at all kinds of odds with the grimy chrome hand tools littering the workbenches and the floor. Her dainty fingers brushed away a layer of dust that had settled on the arm of the canvas lawn chair in which she sat as regally as any queen. The emerald engagement ring his grandfather had put on her finger glittered with the brilliance of fine gold and pricey gemstones and did not belong in a place that smelled of gasoline and burned rubber and the flickering shop light hanging from the rafters.

"No. If Kacie wanted your ass kicked, she'd do it herself." Eloise chuckled and reached over to pat Tristen's knee. Poor boy was suffering terribly. His knuckles were scabbed from punching something and there were tools scattered from one end of the garage to the other in the aftermath of what amounted to a grown male's version of a little boy's temper tantrum.

"I don't think you realize the hold she has over you. Kacie is more than capable of kicking your ass without even lifting a finger," Eloise said. Even from their suite upstairs, Eloise had heard the scuff in the rooms below. Kacie was a fighter and so was Tristen, but they fought two entirely different things. Tristen fought for her and Kacie fought against him. He truly didn't understand the nature of the beast called love. And he most decidedly did not even begin to comprehend her daughter.

"Kacie already has. I don't get it. I just don't get it." Tristen wrung his hands in frustration and stood to pace the room. "She says she loves me, but ...if she does then why did she shoot me down. I mean...she didn't even have to think about it."

"You asked her to marry you," Eloise said with a nod. This poor boy had it bad for her daughter and he'd unfortunately asked a fatal question. Perhaps, she could make him understand Kacie, just a little better.

"Yeah."

"And she said no."

Tristen grimaced at the sting of the salt Eloise poured in his wounded heart. "Yes," he gritted. He stooped and picked up a loose wrench he'd kicked into the far corner of the garage. He felt like a total idiot talking to a former pack mistress and what was worse, his future step-grandmother about his love life. How much lower would he stoop before he got over Kacie, if he ever did? He'd endured lectures and 'the talk' from his dad...twice. Speculation from Mouse and his brother, and Gina's silent yet, sympathetic glances of understanding were enough to make him want to shove an ice pick into his brain. He just wanted...hell, what did he want? Picket fences and babies? Sweaty sex? What? He'd been so certain of everything less than two hours ago and now...the whole thing was a fucking jumbled up mess.

"That's no surprise."

"Huh?" He parked it on the garage floor and sat there with his legs crossed Indian style staring up at Eloise like a little kid eager for story time to start. He turned the wrench over and over in his hands. Grease coated the thumbscrew and the chrome handle fit so well in his palm. Tools and engines he understood. Women...not a fucking clue.

Eloise gave Tristen a gentle, sympathetic smile. Love was so much a part of the pack's daily lives that they could not imagine a life without it. She had lived a very long time without the joy or warmth of love. Unfortunately, her daughters had done the same. "Our worlds are very different. Kacie was born, not out of love, but out of obligation to ensure the genetic survival of our bloodline. Her father was chosen for me. I didn't love him. He didn't love me. We made our children as we were expected to. Kacie and Jan are the only tie we ever had to one another. I honestly didn't mind when he left. My daughters barely knew their father.

"Jan and Kacie, they're such different people, don't you think? Jan is so open, so willing to trust and to believe. But, Kacie, she guards that she holds most dear so close to her heart. She's terrified, Tristen. She wants what she's afraid to want. You have to understand her reluctance to believe in love and the commitment between a man and a woman in love. That kind of love is practically a foreign concept for Kacie. For her to admit that she loves you at all took a huge leap of faith. I believe she thinks you're someone extremely special. Perhaps, that she thinks and feels the things she does for you is what scares her the most. She is in love with you, Tristen."

"She is in love?"

"I believe so, Tristen," Eloise said with a subtle nod. "Give her some time. If you really love her, accept what she can give, revel in her love, and give her all the love you've got in return. Don't push her too hard. Otherwise, you'll push her away. With some understanding and patience, she'll come around."

"You sound awfully sure."

"I know my daughter. As stubborn as she can be sometimes, Kacie is a deep well of feelings. It's just going to take a lot of perseverance to bring them to the surface. Don't be too hard on her. Just...just love her, for who she is and take her how she comes. Words...what are they anyway? Words hold no more or less truth than the speaker intends and the one who hears them comprehends. And sometimes, are they really necessary?"

Eloise stifled a yawn and drew her robe tighter over her shoulders. The garage was chilly and damp and white silk really didn't fare well against grease and dust. "If you'll excuse me." She got up and picked her way across the scattered tools on the floor.

"Goodnight, Eloise." Tristen fiddled with the wrench. Turning the cool steel over and over in his palms as he watched her drift out of the garage like some sort of ethereal spirit. She hadn't said anything he didn't already know. He was just too hard headed to realize the truth for what it was. Kacie loved him. What more did he need to know? Why were the words so important to him?

"Damn." He threw the tool clattering to the concrete floor. He felt like a shit. He should march right up there and apologize to Kacie. As much as he tried to talk himself into doing exactly that, his pride choked him and kept his butt planted on the concrete floor. He was in the right to do what he did. He'd almost. That one act could have put their feet irrevocably on a course from which there was no return. He didn't give a damn if Kacie believed or not. He did. And for him that was all that mattered.

If they kept playing with fire, one of these days, they were going to get burned. He'd had to say the things he had to keep them both away from the flames. And he'd walked away rather than watch them both burn.

Chapter 55

Shayla went toe to toe with the guard posted at the door to Carter's cell until he finally cut the electricity and released the magnetic lock and let her in. Her hand went to her lips as she stepped into the darkened cavernous room. Carter looked like an animal. A very dangerous, feral beast, chained at the ankles and wrists and thick collar affixed to his neck. The chains were deceptively thin cables of steel, flexible, bendable, and cold as the very pits of hell. This wasn't what she'd asked for when she'd begged the Great White Wolf to spare his life. "What have they done to you?" She blinked at her tears as he captured her in the arctic cold of his icy eyes. Baring fully extended fangs from beneath his curled lips he caught the scent of her blood. And he hungered for it.

"Come to see the local circus attraction?" Carter hissed as Shayla bravely and foolishly inched closer. "Don't get too close. I bite." The steel collar around his neck dug into his flesh as he strained to decrease the distance between him and the sweet, wonderful smell of her blood.

"Carter, this isn't you." Shayla slowly crept within the outer perimeter of the limits of his reach. "What's happening to you isn't your fault. Maybe when the baby is born you'll have your mind to yourself again."

"The baby." Carter threw back his head and laughed. "They should have decapitated me when they had the chance. How stupid could I have been? To take the blood of a pregnant female into my body, what a fool I was." His eyes searched Shayla's for even a hint of the condemnation he felt. "You know, I've probably damned us both straight to hell."

"Carter, I don't believe in hell."

"When you get to live as long as I have and see the things that I've seen over the centuries, you will. War. Famine. Disease. Yet, I've stood on the sidelines. Watching life, but never living it. Cursed with longevity while humanity bore the burden of the grave." Carter shook his head. "I should have died long ago. I have many, many debts to pay the devil and it's time that I balanced our account for once and for all."

"Carter, can't you see past your self-damnation and see the man I see?" Shayla blinked rapidly to trap the tears behind her dark lashes. She crouched on her heels and stared into his face searching for remnants of sanity and of the man she once knew. His self-hatred was a fetid thing, like a cancer eating him from the inside out. His clothing hung from his too thin body in strips of soiled and torn fabric. His face was gaunt and his cheekbones too pronounced for his beautiful face. A predator's hunger glinted in his icy blue eyes. There was very little of him left, of the brave, courageous, giving, shattered man he had been. The darkness was consuming him and if something wasn't done, it would win and the Carter she'd known would be gone forever.

"Who would that be? How do you see me, Shayla? Am I substitution for your departed Ramon? Would I be a worthy father for the child you carry in your womb? After all, a part of me is in him, isn't it? My blood flows through your veins and through your precious baby. You can feel it in him the same as I can. If I thought for one second that I could bargain with the devil for the salvation of that tender and innocent soul. I would give Satan mine in the child's stead, if he would strike such a poor accord. Unfortunately, my soul isn't worth much and the devil...he already owns it."

"How dare you bring Ramon into this! You are nothing like Ramon!" Shayla shrank back and stifled a heartbroken cry behind her clenched fists. "Ramon is dead."

"Yet, I live." Disgraced, Carter turned away and refused to acknowledge the tears in Shayla's eyes. "Shayla, how can you forgive me for contaminating the precious life that grows within your belly?"

"It is just as much my fault as yours. I had no idea that I was pregnant. How could you have known when I didn't? I am just as much to blame."

"Not even close. Don't you dare attempt to absolve me! I've committed a horrible crime! I accept full responsibility for what I did!"

"Carter, you've done nothing that requires my forgiveness. Did you ever stop to think that no matter what this child happens to be when he is born, I'll love him no matter what. Fangs or canine teeth, it doesn't matter. Blood or milk in his bottle, it's unimportant. This baby is a part of me, a part of Ramon, and, whether you want it to be or not, he's a part of you."