Dawn's Never Ending Glow

She relaxed a little, with his body anchoring her in the here and now. Gently, he fluffed her pillows and eased her back. Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth. And her lips were cracked and parched. "Toby," she croaked out on a strangled sigh. Grabbing his hand in a terrified, death grip, as if she let him go she'd fall back into a world of darkness and madness.

"Take it easy Anna. I'm here," Toby said softly. He reached over to the nightstand and poured a glass of water from the carafe Candace had thoughtfully left at some point during his long vigil watching over Anna. "Drink this." He held the glass up to her lips, gently tipping it up while she drank. Her hands trembled, fluttering and grasping ineffectually, unable to hold the glass on her own without spilling it. If she were truly to herself, she'd hate her dependence on him for something as simple as getting a drink of water. "Better?"

Anna swallowed the cold water down. Finding some relief as the cool water soothed her parched throat. Her bodyweight was heavy on the pillows. With a great amount of effort, she hefted her body to the side of the bed and sat, fighting off waves of dizziness and nausea. Roark was out of her consciousness. But, she could feel him hovering on the periphery of her mind. Dr. Sterling's drugs had shut him out. But, she couldn't live this way. She couldn't stand the thought of being dependent on anybody for something as simple as drinking a glass of water or going to the toilet.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Anna struggled to sit up on the side of the bed, wavering unsteadily as the room teetered and spun. She focused on her polished toenails and swallowed back a wave of nausea. The water she'd managed to force down pitched and rolled in her stomach like a tidal wave. Gripping the nightstand, she pushed her weight off the bed. Her legs barely managed to hold her upright.

"Let me help you." Toby hopped to his feet and supported her weight by wrapping an arm around her waist. He shrugged off her disdainful scowl at the fuss he made over her. "I'm going to be your husband. It's ok if I take you to the bathroom." He guided Anna, her steps gingerly and timid out of fear of collapsing in his arms. "It's not a great mystery. People pee."

Anna grabbed the doorframe steadying her weak posture and wobbling frame. "I got it." Toby hovered over her, gently balancing her with his palm at the small of her back. He should have been a nurse for all the compassion and care he lavished on her. She hated it. She hadn't had someone take her to the bathroom since she'd grown out of training pants. And she didn't need his help. The toilet was just a few feet away. She could make it on her own.

When she got to the toilet, she shot Toby a look. Placated when he pulled the door closed to give her the illusion of privacy. She sank down on the hard, white, wooden seat and took a deep breath, averting her eyes from the deep tub to her right. With shaky hands she pressed her cool fingers to her eyes. What good would crying do? It would only break Toby's heart and give Roark more power over her than he already had. After doing her business, she hoisted her body up from the toilet, using the vanity to give her a boost.

From now on, she was strictly a shower girl. No more bubble baths for her. Never. Using the vanity to hold her upright, she turned on the tap at the sink and ran some cold water over her face. Anna hardly recognized her reflection in the mirror. She was ghastly pale with dark purple-blue rings under her eyes. Running damp fingers through her hair, she tried her best to smooth the tangles. A quick douse under the spray would probably perk her up. But, there was no way she was getting near that tub today.

She needed to brush her teeth and her hair, get dressed, and pretend that she wasn't falling apart. If for no other reason than for Toby's sake, he blamed himself. She could see it in his expression. His regret. He thought he failed to keep her safe even though he'd taken every precaution he could. He took sole responsibility for dragging her into his world. She didn't blame him. She didn't blame anybody. Oh yeah, if she had the chance, she'd kill Roark herself. But, as far as being in love with Toby or being a part of his amazing world, she had no regrets.

Toby stood by the bathroom door waiting for Anna to finish. He tried to give her as much space as possible. The toilet flushed and he could hear her feet shuffle against the cool tile as she made her way to the sink. She was weak and fragile-in danger of breaking. He riffled through her overnight bag and fished out a fresh pair of soft, cotton yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and gently, almost gingerly pushed the door open. He had to handle her and her forced dependence on him carefully.

Toby saw Anna staring at her reflection in the mirror. Saw the way her trembling fingers grasped the brush and clumsily dragged the bristles through her tangled hair. Just that simple gesture, watching her put on a brave front and try to behave normally broke his heart. He should have anticipated Roark would try something. Go after the brothers at their most vulnerable point, their women. So much of this was his fault. If he'd taken better precautions, Roark wouldn't have gotten into the brotherhood's computer network. He should have forced Anna to stay at the compound where she would have been safe and out of Roark's clutches. If. If. If. God, the word screamed in his head. And there was nothing he could do about it now, except be here for her as much as she'd let him.

"Here, let me help you." Toby set her clothes down on the hamper and took the brush out of Anna's hand. Gently, he guided the bristles through her thick, platinum blonde hair and smoothed the strands as best he could. Anna accepted his help and leaned heavily on the sink for support, her body trembling from the effort of holding her body upright as he gathered up a loose ponytail and secured it with an elastic hair tie.

Anna had all she could do to keep her balance. The sink was cool against her palms. Toby's fingers were gentle in her hair, working the strands into a makeshift ponytail. She lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his in the mirror's reflection. Loose strands of blonde hair escaped the ponytail and trailed across her cheek and neck. Quickly, she glanced away from their locked gazes.

There was so much in his expression and so much in hers that went unsaid. She was more than willing to die for love. And he'd happily take her to that shadowy place of death and pull her back from its grasp as an offering of his love for her. That was the plan. But, when she...when they...not so much with words, but in silent, unspoken acceptance agreed to the plan, it was under the belief they'd have a choice. They'd have time. Roark was forcing their hand. Carving away at the luxury of time they thought they had with every tick of the clock. She didn't want to be forced. She didn't want to die because there was no other option open. When she died to her old world, it would be on her schedule or not at all.

Toby had never felt so useless or so helpless. The woman he loved was losing herself bit by bit. Anna would never agree to being transformed just to save her life. For love...for him...for their future...yes. But, to save her from Roark...never. And as much as he loved her, as easy as it would be to pin her in his arms and drain the life out of her and give her, his in exchange, he loved her too much to force her. Carefully, he balanced her with one hand on her narrow shoulder and helped her change out of the nightgown Janine had carefully dressed her in the night before and into her clothes. "Candace is making you some breakfast."

Anna chuckled at that. Candace couldn't stand to be near human food. And the thought of her attempting to cook, maybe it was the drugs still circulating in her system, but Anna found it funny. Toby gave her no choice. He guided her to the bed and gently deposited her on the pillows. Gratefully, trying not to show her fatigue, she sank against the cool sheets and the warm, soft down of the comforter. Her eyelids grew heavy. Sleep threatened to suck her under again. She sat up and jarred herself awake. "Candace can't cook."

Toby smiled at Anna's chuckle. For a minute she was back to her old self. And then she was gone, folded into a weary lump on the bed. Resisting the urge to fall back asleep under the lingering influence of whatever Dr. Sterling had pumped into her veins. "She's not forbidden from the kitchen like I am," Toby said over exaggerating a playful pout. "She's making boiled eggs, toast, and a banana. Not exactly rocket science."

"I'd really love some coffee."

"Alex is taking care of that for you."

"Good." Anna sighed and smiled at Toby as he scooted onto the bed next to her and cradled her head against his chest. The warmth of him was reassuring and comforting. Reaching up, she traced the lines of worry etched across his brow. "I love you."

"Everything is going to be fine, Anna," he said, closing his eyes. She was so small and frail in his arms. Her body was already starting to weaken. He felt the hard ridge of bones beneath her too pale skin. The trembling of strained muscles struggling to coordinate her movements. Her mind was closed to him. And he no longer had the reassurance of her thoughts like a gentle whisper in his head. Roark was slowly killing her minute by minute. He wished he could believe what he tried so desperately to convince Anna of. "We're going to figure this out."

Anna wasn't a fool. She knew the brothers were rapidly running out of ideas to help her. Every minute Roark was in her head was a minute off her life. And the balance of minutes left was running precariously low. The power of the Rogue Master was draining her slowly. "I know." She lied, not to herself, but to Toby. "Of course we will."

Chapter 16

Janine rushed through her morning chores at the shop. Today she was getting the books ready and logging in inventory. Robbie's father might have managed the business successfully for years. But, his bookkeeping, the scribbled notes on last year's calendar and desk drawer stuffed full of receipts and business cards for the shop's suppliers were nothing more than a jumbled mish-mash for her to organize. And according to the tax return she'd prepped for Robbie, last year was the first year the shop had shown a marked plummet in profits. The girl had barely managed to maintain the shop in the black. But, who could blame her? With her parents gone, the rogue breathing down her neck, and her sudden plunge into the vampire world, she hadn't exactly been focused on the shop. Staying alive had been a bit more important.

With a heavy sigh, Janine clicked on her laptop and began sorting through the receipts. She'd managed to keep Robbie from owing taxes. Yes, vampires paid their dues to the U.S. Department of the Treasury, at least, until time caught up with them and they had to disappear from the census for good. And even then, some of them didn't. They simply became, thanks to Toby's magic fingers at the keyboard, somebody else.

Robbie could go off the grid at anytime she wanted to. But, perhaps, it was her commitment to her family's dream that kept her a taxpaying citizen. That, and next year was the presidential election. Even a vampire, those who could anyway, wanted to cast their vote. It sucked, but eventually, Robbie would have to let it go. The shop. Voting. All of it. In this small of a town, hell anywhere, she couldn't stay Roberta Danielle Harris forever.

Time was growing short. In a few days, What's the Scoop would open for the seasons. And Janine was excited about it, a little nervous, naturally, but eager and frantic for the chance to prove her value. Accounting wasn't as glamorous as swinging a sword or as important as throwing a dagger, tracking the bad guys, or seeing visions, like Alex. But, try to survive in the modern world without it. Toss in her fashion sense and knack for sniffing out a good half-off sale, and damn it, she did her part to earn her keep. And besides, no body threw a party or put together a wedding like she did.

Janine snorted at the salary Robbie had tried to offer her. If Robbie paid her as much as she'd wanted to, what Janine knew she was actually worth, by July the shop would be bankrupt. So they'd done a little creative finagling to make things even. She finally convinced Robbie to pay her a smaller, much smaller, rate. Actually, less than one-fourth what she would have made at one of the lower paying firms in the city. And in exchange, she could eat all the ice cream she wanted and set her own hours. Yeah, like she needed the ice cream. With as big as her ass was these days, rapidly expanding out of her size six shorts, she needed to be eating twigs and berries. She was too short to put on any additional weight. And by the end of summer she'd be big as a cow, if she weren't careful.

She held up the scrap of paper in her hand and turned it this way and that way, trying to decipher Robert's cryptic scrawl on the receipt. Giving up, she dropped it into the 'Robbie pile' along with a stack of other scribbled notes she couldn't figure out. Janine sighed and stretched her back. The office chair, salvaged from the Marquis De Sade's torture chamber, was duct taped in places, the wheels didn't roll, and the seat tilted at an odd angle. But, of course, Robbie's parents hadn't spent a lot of time in the office. They were out, serving customers, and making the kind of friendly, small town, neighborly chit-chat that kept people coming back and eager to part with their hard earned money.

Janine swiveled in her seat. Not an easy thing to do. The chair groaned pitifully. But, eventually turned. On the far wall of the cramped space, hung a couple of mementos, a framed dollar bill from the shop's first sale and a photograph taken opening day. She smiled at Robbie. All knobby knees and red, frizzy pig tails, looking at her now and comparing her to the smiling kid in the picture, it was hard to imagine Robbie ever being that young.

Robbie's parents had been on the backside of middle age when they died in the car accident. In the snapshot, they were so young. Perhaps just a smidge older than Janine was now. Smiling proudly at the camera as their dream, the shop, sparkled bright and shiny new in the backdrop behind them. No body had any idea what was coming. But, then again, in life, who did?

Janine sucked on the end of her pen and pulled it out of her mouth, pointing it at the photo. In this place, with the sweet smell of vanilla and sweat of summers past, she could feel Robert and Danielle's presence. And if it was this hard for her to be here, she couldn't imagine how hard it was for Robbie. "I'm going to keep you in the black. I promise."

She tried to ignore the fact that Patrick was somewhere close by. Following her, watching her like a hawk, none too stealthily, thanks to the link and the prickling awareness she felt, like the marching of hundreds of ants up and down her arms, whenever he was near. When she went out, which until now, hadn't been too often, she'd always had one of the brothers, if not Patrick personally, at her side.

She hadn't realized how much she missed being on her own without a shadow, just doing her own thing unsupervised. Even on the bluffs that day, there had been brothers around, patrolling the woods. She hadn't been technically alone. If she'd screamed, they would have come running to her defense. Janine supposed, after what happened to Anna, and as easily as Roark had slipped into the territory, she could appreciate Patrick's overly protective streak. A little.

Stiff from the chair, her eyes fatigued from the hours of trying to make sense of Robert's notes, Janine ambled into the dining area. Sunlight streamed through the plate glass windows, sparkling off the chrome napkin holders on the tables. Everything was set up and ready to go. A banner stretched across the front of the shop, announcing opening day this weekend. Its ends gently flapped in the breeze. Not that it stopped the local kids from riding their bikes in the parking lot or their parents, exhausted by the endless begging of their ice cream depraved children, from pulling up and trying the door in hopes the shop might open sooner.

Janine grinned at the small group of children, pressing eager noses to the glass. Their hands cupped around their eager faces for a closer look. She should shoo them off. The fact that Lori and she had spent a whole day cleaning the glass and the kids were smearing the hell out of it with their noses and hands practically fused to the windows should piss her off. But, what could she say? She had a soft spot for kids.

Not that she wanted any of her own. Hell no. When her biological clock alarmed and reminded her that her fertile days were growing fewer and fewer, she borrowed a kid for a few hours, loaded the youngster up on sugar, basically spoiled the tyke rotten, and then returned the sugar buzzed, way too stimulated, screeching little hellion, over to it's rightful owner.

The kids were just so cute. Adorable. Dressed cut off shorts and faded t-shirts, perched on their tiptoes, straining to peek inside the shop. How could she say no to her adoring fans, even if they only loved her for her ice cream? Janine unlocked the door and let the timid horde into the shop. "We'll be opening on Friday night."

She frowned when a chorus of grumbles and sighs of disappointment came from their little mouths. With a wide smile, she said, "Would you like a sample?" After all, advertising was advertising. And word of mouth was free. It was good for the shop and would hopefully entice their parents to choose What's the Scoop over Happy's when their hungry minions howled for ice cream. Happy's was their biggest competition. Not only did they serve shakes, they were open all year, and they had the Happy Burger Deluxe.

"Would we ever!" one of the older and braver boys cried out. Gleeful cheers and claps echoed in the empty shop.

What would be the harm in giving away a few cones? She could use the opportunity to practice her curlicue technique. Which was a lot harder to make than it looked and she had yet to master. Janine trotted around the counter and began doling out ice cream cones to the kids. Before long, the shop was filled to max capacity with shouting and messy kids, dribbling ice cream all over the tables and floor.

Kids came out of the woodwork. For every eager hand she thrust an ice cream cone into, ten more took its place. And she served each and every one of them. The cash register was empty. And so was the cone dispenser. Not to mention that the shop was a complete mess. And the kids were still coming. Didn't their parents ever feed them? Was there a national shortage of sugar cones and she was the only source in the country? In dismay, she dragged her sticky hand over her disheveled hair and sighed. Robbie was going to kill her. She could practically hear Robert and Danielle laughing at her folly over her shoulder.

Patrick saw the disaster unfold before his eyes. Janine was under siege. He hopped down from his perch on the library's rooftop across the street and, pretending to be just an ordinary guy out on an afternoon stroll, not so comfortable even with the dark lenses as high up on his nose as they would go, and walked over to the shop. He hated summer. The longer days and all the sunshine really irritated him. Made him feel exposed and way too vulnerable.

The brothers had to look normal and avoid rousing suspicion. Which, in the ninety-degree temperatures, meant no leathers. Which meant, fewer places to hide weapons. Not that John Mark didn't look comical in a pair of shorts, who knew the bastard had knobby knees? But, Patrick preferred his leathers and full gear to going out inadequately armed just for the sake of appearances.