Dawn's Never Ending Glow

"Anna stop!" Chris pleaded. Stuck helplessly on the other side of the barrier, she watched what little humanity might have remained disappear from her best friend. "You can't do this! You're killing Patrick!"

Roark heard a sickening snap as his ribs gave way. He wailed in sheer agony unable to restrain the cry that escaped his lips. He was going to die. There was no point to speak. Even if he had the breath to plead for his life, it wouldn't do any good. The woman was too far gone. Possessed by the power she'd released.

Anna sensed that Roark didn't have long to live. She didn't want him to die so quickly. She wanted him to suffer and to beg her for his life. Little by little, she reeled her power in, regaining control of its fury. "I'm not through with you yet."

Chapter 30

The Great Father returned to find his home in chaos. As quickly as his brother had ditched him in the desert, he returned to his side and announced that they were going home and that they needed to get back quickly. Whatever vision or message from the goddess his brother had found in that desert had him spooked. Usually, the brothers walked wherever they went, lollygagging around and enjoying one another's company and the journey. After all, when there was nothing but time to waste, what was the rush? Not this time. When the Prophet booked plane tickets and shoved him into a seat in the over crowded coach section, the Great Father knew there was trouble.

******

Janine felt the first wave of suffering jolt through her body. She was sharing Patrick's thoughts, caught in the web of their link. He was in pain and terrified for his life. "Robbie, help me!" She dropped to the floor gasping for breath, and crying out in agony. "You've got to get me to Patrick."

Robbie scooped Janine up and didn't bother to lock down the shop. She should have hauled Janine back to the compound sooner instead of pretending that there was no danger. Her mind was filled with rapid fire, panicked psychic messages She kept to the sidelines, watching over Janine. But, now it seemed that Janine was involved, drug into the middle of the chaos, sharing Patrick's agony. If Patrick died, he could very well take Janine down with him. Shoving her into the SUV, Robbie sped through the deserted streets of town.

Patrick sensed Janine's presence. He gathered up what little breath he had left and sent a urgent, whispering plea to Toby. "Don't let her see me like this."

Mack held the loaded gun, pointing it at Anna. Not at her head, but at her thigh. He needed to make sure he had a clean shot. A bullet wouldn't harm her, but the pain might be enough to distract her. He had already cleared the streets of curious onlookers, by enforcing a curfew that had been on the books since the Cold War. The town council would be all over his ass for that little display of abuse of power. But, more than a few of the key members were privy to what actually happened in this town after dark.

Sometimes, he wished he wasn't. He'd been a human member of The Sons for over forty years. And in all those years, he'd seen a lot of strange things, but nothing quite like Anna.

Dane arrived at the scene shortly before Mack and shook his head. "I can't let you do it, Mack. If she can do that to a vampire, she'd kill you with nothing more than a twitch of her finger. I can't." He turned away unable to watch Patrick's suffering another second. Nobody seemed to be able to get through to Anna. Not Toby. Not Chris. Not Patrick. No one. There was nothing the brothers could do to stop her.

John Mark held the hilt of a sword at the ready. By now there were several rogues in the area, nervous and anxious as they watched their leader slowly suffocate in a pool of his own blood. He rounded up the rogues, the blade of his sword and their fear of Anna keeping them compliant and at bay. Keene, their second in command, stood at his back, helping to keep the rogues under control.

Janine wiggled her way through the crowd. The brothers tried to block her. Keeping her away from Patrick. But, she tore through them anyway. She gasped stopped by the invisible impermeable barrier. "Patrick!" He was in sheer torment, his face contorted by the pain. Steam rolled off his pale skin. The air was filled with the smell of ozone and burning flesh. And there was nothing she could do but watch. "Anna! You're killing Patrick! I love him! Please don't hurt him! Let him go! Anna! Please!"

Anna blinked almost as if she were asleep and then suddenly awake. The agony in the small voice found its way through the cold barrier, touching the part of her heart that was still human. The part that still loved. The part of her that was the sum of her being. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had been unaware of what was going on around her. She had been so controlled by her rage and her need for revenge, that she hadn't noticed the presence behind her was Patrick. Now, not only was she murdering The Rogue Master, but Patrick as well, and breaking the hearts of her closest and dearest friends.

Anna jerked back hard on the energy, struggling to reel it in. The barrier was beginning to weaken. But, it still sealed off the alley in an elastic, invisible shield. She focused her power. Unable to control it well enough to call it back into her body. Sending the energy careening up to the sky in wild patterns of white light until it dissipated, diffusing into the atmosphere. Weak and dizzy, she collapsed landing in a set of strong arms.

"Patrick!" Janine rushed to his side cradling his head in her arms. Tears ran down her cheeks showering his face with their saline droplets. "You have to be ok."

Patrick woke, a big whoosh of air filling his aching lungs. He blinked against the wet drops that fell across his eyelids. He smelled Janine's familiar springtime scent. He didn't plan on seeing heaven when he died, quite the opposite, actually. But, here he was awakening in the arms of an angel.

After spending a few moments, enjoying the feel of cool air flowing in and out of his lungs. He heard the gentle sounds of night and whispering voices. Realizing by some miracle, he wasn't dead and he was indeed resting his head in Janine's lap. He opened his eyes, locking them with hers. "Thank you," he whispered. Closing his eyes again, relishing the feeling of just being alive.

*****

Dane and Keene reached The Rogue Master's body at the same time. Dane relieved that he wasn't dead. But, a little disappointed that Anna hadn't finished him off. Keene was disappointed that the bastard still breathed. Although there was still hope Roark wouldn't be for long. The Rogue Master clung to life by a thread, barely alive. Heat and steam radiated off his body. His clothing hung off his limbs in charred tatters. And the air was tinged by the stink of singed hair and skin. But, the bastard was still alive. The two men hoisted Roark's body up off the ground. "Take him to our compound The Shaman may be able to help him recover."

Keened nodded in agreement. He wasn't exactly in a position to argue with the stoic leader of the Sons. He and the rogues were in a precarious state. The brothers had no reason to allow them to live and every excuse to rid the earth of them. They were at their mercy and living on borrowed grace for the time being.

Setting an example and cooperating might prevent more bloodshed. The rogues were a volatile group, quick to turn on one another. Over the years, Keene squashed more assassination attempts than he could count. In his weakened state, Roark would be vulnerable to attack. And Keene wasn't so certain that if one of the rogues were brave enough to try, he'd stop it.

Kayla ran to Roark's side, grasping his limp hand in hers. His skin was so hot, just the brush of her fingertips against it burned her. "I want to go with him," she pled. She jogged beside Keene, still keeping a tight hold on the bear's fuzzy pink arm.

Dane agreed, knowing that he couldn't ask anyone to make the sacrifice to give the Rogue Master their blood. The thought of him taking from one of their cherished donors made his stomach churn. He nodded, directing the young girl to climb in the backseat of the waiting SUV.

She was so young, maybe nineteen, by the look of her. So full of life and innocence, smelling of bubble gum, unlived hopes and dreams, and rock and roll music. Dane adjusted his mirror to keep a better eye on the battered body, resting between the girl and Keene.

The girl had a sweet face and a perky, upturned nose. Freckles dotted her cherubic cheeks and loose tawny curls framed her angelic face. The thought that Roark could take a soul so pure and innocent and corrupt it with his diseased blood sickened Dane. In the rearview mirror, big, round aquamarine eyes, met his gaze. It wasn't until their eyes locked that Dane realized the truth of the girl's age. She may be young. But, she was far older.

John Mark barked orders at the rogues as if they were merely more of his recruits. He herded them to the big manner house on the outskirts of town and commanded them to stay indoors and out of sight. He grabbed the cell phone out of his pocket, demanding reinforcements. He needed to keep this bunch under tight control or they'd overrun him. He'd send them packing, if he knew where to ship them and if UPS didn't charge extra for hazardous cargo.

*****

Will and Chance gently lifted Patrick up off the hard concrete and lowered him into the soft leather interior of the waiting SUV. Janine was glued to his side. No amount of reassurance would coax her to leave him. He was starting to improve. His skin no longer a sickly white mask of death.

Almost fully recovered, Patrick lounged in the backseat, carefully stretching out his aching body. Anna had nearly killed him. He supposed the goddess had her reasons for giving Anna such a gift. Assumedly, they weren't intended for deep-frying the brothers. He wasn't much of a scientist. But, he guessed Anna's abilities worked on explainable, scientific principles.

The body was composed of nothing but chemicals and water, doing whatever they did to animate life. Electrical charges controlled every aspect of being alive. Somehow, the process was amplified in Anna's body and she was able to harness the power inside her cells and send it out. Handy trick, as long as you weren't the one on the receiving end.

Janine ran her fingers through the short strands of Patrick's hair, relishing in its softness, releasing bits of his clean, earthy, woodsy scent into the air. He was a little crispy. But, at least, the smell of a backyard barbecue was starting to fade from his clothes. She exhaled a relieved sigh and cradled his head in her lap.

"You saved my life," Patrick whispered, reaching up to touch her tear-dampened cheeks. He was still weak and felt like he had been turned on a spit over an open fire. But, he was healing. He closed his eyes, soaking in every bit of Janine's essence, trapping it in his memory. "I'd do it again, over and over. If I could wake up in your arms every time, it'd be worth it."

"Shh," Janine cooed softly running her fingers over his closed lids. Her heart was breaking. She loved him and his words were tearing her apart. She'd give him her life, share it, if only, he'd open his heart and share his with her. She held her tongue, unwilling to let go of the words that rolled around in her mouth. She longed to tell him that she loved him, and always would, no matter what happened between the two of them.

******

Toby clutched Anna's limp form against his chest. He stroked her face and whispered to her, reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. He urged her to wake up and open her eyes. "Anna, please. Look at me," he coaxed.

Anna drifted, cool and disconnected, floating on currents of glowing white energy. She struggled to peel her eyelids apart and connect with the source of the voice that pulled her back, edging her away from the dangerous brink. Toby wouldn't, couldn't still love her. Not after seeing the full measure of the beast that dwelled inside of her. She should have told him about the goddess and the gift. But, it had seemed like a dream and unreal at the time. And how could she have explained to him something she didn't understand herself?

Slowly and reluctantly Anna opened her eyes to the sound of Toby's soothing voice. She met his gaze, certain to find disgust and condemnation in its depths. Scanning their deep brown eyes, she saw worry, a fair measure of wonder, and above all else love. He still loved her, despite the thing that roared within her. "Toby?"

"I'm here. Everything is fine. Don't worry," he said, gently. Slowly, he sat Anna up, resting her body against his chest. He kept his sentences short and to the point. Feeding her only the bits of information that she needed to know. He kissed the top of her head and held her close rocking her in his arms. Her fear tainted the air around him, smelling sharp and acrid.

Anna curled into a ball in his arms. Wanting to savor the feeling of her body nestled against his while she still could. Surely, the brothers wouldn't want her around. They would be afraid and terrified of her abilities. And they'd kick her out. Toby loved her. But, his loyalties lay with the Sons. He'd choose them over her. And she couldn't blame him.

She was relieved to hear that Patrick was going to be fine and that she, fortunately, hadn't killed The Rogue Master. Although, he deserved it, justice wasn't hers alone to deliver. "Toby, I can't go back."

"Why?"

"The brothers, what will they say? I'm so ashamed of what I did. I saw Roark and I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't control it. I didn't want to. Patrick, he got in the way. And I almost killed him." She shivered in his arms. Although his body was warm and she was nestled against it. "They'll be afraid of me."

"No they won't. Anna, you have a rare and powerful gift. You are new to this world and your abilities are just now emerging. You just need time to learn how to use your gift." Toby lifted Anna's chin and stared into her eyes. "Nobody blames you for anything." Gently, he kissed the end of her nose. "I should have told you that the rogues were here. I shouldn't have put you through that."

"You...you still love me?" Anna looked up into Toby's eyes, searching them for

answers. Shouldn't he be running for the hills or at least the safety of the

compound? He helped her onto her feet and dusted off the back of her pants, so attentive and loving.

"Yeah, and so does everyone else." He held Anna tighter in his arms, stilling her

trembling body in with his embrace. "Let's go home." When he'd first met her, he was intrigued by her mind and entranced by her cold exterior. She kept her heart in a block of ice where nobody could reach it. The harder she tried to push him the way. The more desperately and determinedly he pursued her. Did she really think he'd go through all that trouble and effort to win her heart only to crumble it in his fist and throw her away? Did she think his love was so shallow and her love so worthless that something like this could break it down? "Anna, I love you."

"I love you too." Anna relaxed in Toby's arms. Hoping he was right and that her stuff wouldn't be on the proverbial front lawn, waiting for her when she got to the compound. Especially since she didn't have a job. She would have never asked Toby to choose the brothers over her. She'd never have to. By loving her and holding her in his arms, he'd already made his choice. And it was her. It might be a hard road to win the brothers' trust. Especially Patrick's. She would have a struggle on her hands to get them to accept her again. But, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be. Or any other people she'd rather be with. "Take me home?"

Chapter 31

Dane paced at the foot of the bed, watching the Shaman work his magic on the limp, crumpled, body of the Rogue Master. He couldn't believe that he was asking his brothers to protect and restore Roark to health. Not to mention the fact that he'd brought the bastard home to meet the wife and kids, so to speak.

Keene was uncomfortable. Upon arriving, he'd been searched and all his weapons confiscated. He felt totally and utterly naked without them. He stood in the corner watching the healer work to save Roark. Waste of time and energy. Keene liked these people. Their home was warm and inviting. Not just a house, like the numerous dwellings where he hung his hat. But, a real home filled with love and people who genuinely cared for one another. Roark would not extend the same courtesy when he awoke. Saving him now would only serve to bite the brothers in the ass later.

The Shaman surveyed the broken body lying on the bed. He was tempted to refuse to provide the shattered remains with treatment. Let him die. But, it was against his creed as a physician. The damage was extensive, but, in time, Roark would make a full recovery.

The Great Father wound his way through the labyrinth of corridors determined to set the wrongs to right and put order to the chaos. His Sons' thoughts were a mix of scrambled emotions and urgent whisperings, so fragmented and random that he could not begin to interpret them. The sweet scent of rogue was heavy in the air, contaminating the earthy familiar scent of his Sons with its stench. He could barely stomach the reeking scent. He followed the smell, opening the door to let himself into the makeshift sick room.

The man on the bed was still, limp, and clinging to life by a thread. How tempting it would be to pull out his blade and take the life of the man who had taken his almost two hundred years ago. Yes, he knew who fired the fatal shot. He'd always known. It was just that in light of the outcome, he hadn't bothered to speak of it to anyone. How odd, that then he'd been at the man's mercy and now, the man was at his. The Great Father leaned over the bed, looking down at the man. "When he awakens, allow him to feed, not kill, on his donor and alert me."

Dane stood, getting up from his posture of respect. He hated to say it, but he was damn glad to see the Great Father and hand over his duties as head clown of the traveling circus for a little while. He bowed low to the Great Father, grateful for the help. Something told him that if he truly intended to keep Roark alive and the rogues from draining the entire town, he was going to need it. "Of course, my father."

"Keep Roark under close guard." No one knew better than he how dangerous the Rogue Master was. Except, possibly for his Second. The Great Father turned to Keene and studied him. "I wish to speak with you, alone."

Keene nodded and followed the man out into the hallway. He'd heard Roark tell stories about the Great Father. Talking him up to keep the rogues in line. But seeing him first hand was quite a different experience. The man was tall, long black hair streaked with silver flowed over the tops of his shoulders. Tanned skin and a hard jaw line gave the man an aura of stoicism and shrewd perseverance.

His brown eyes were hard, glittering like cold, topaz stone in his sockets. Power radiated off the Great Father, sending zings of energy tingling along Keene's skin. The Great Father could get to the heart of a man and see deep into his soul. Sift chaff from kernel with nothing more than a glance. Keene had yet to say a word and the Great Father had already judged and measured what kind of a man he was.

The Great Father saw it in the man's steely, cold, gray eyes. Keene served The Rogue Master out of obligation and fear, not out of respect or desire. "I can release you. Break his hold over you. You can leave here a free man if you desire. Or you can remain behind when he departs and become a brother. Learn to serve a greater cause than the selfish desires of your master and become the man you long to become. I can see it in you, my friend. Your desire.