Dawn's Path: Completed Work

He wasn't looking for any trouble. The mall was a prime place to find exactly the kind of stupid vampires he detested with such vehemence. The activities of the Brotherhood were hardly his concern. Except for the fact that they weren't doing their job. He controlled his instincts and kept his hunting habits limited to the bowels of society. People, that if he made a mistake and killed, no one would miss. And he always cleaned up after himself. He gave the legendary Sons no reason to come knocking on his door. Curiosity had drawn him to the Brothers. He'd caught their scent and thought he'd kept well enough out of sight. But, apparently, he was wrong.

His senses tingled with awareness at the presence of the Brothers. And as surely as was able to sense them, they were able to sense them. He had to give them credit. They did human very well. He focused on the two in front of the pub. One leaned against the rough brick exterior, a rather exotic looking Native American male. And the other, a petite, crimson haired beauty, glanced down at her watch as she paced impatiently back and forth in front of the entrance.

There was a couple, a raven-haired female and a rather stunning blond male walking in step with a second couple. The male was so average in appearance it made Carter's fangs ache. And the female, a little wisp of a thing, so tiny and delicate as a China doll, he almost dismissed her completely. And might have, if he hadn't spotted the flash of a glimmer of the streetlight reflected from the hilt of the dagger strapped to her narrow hip.

He knew the two human females were inside the bar. Accompanied by a female vampire, tall and blonde, willowy as the tree in which she reminded him of. Seven Brothers. Fair odds he might survive a confrontation, if he were insane enough to test his luck. Which, he was not. He shrank back further into the alleyway, determined to leave, with his curiosity and his head firmly attached to his shoulders. The pub hadn't been out of his view for more than a few seconds. But, that was enough time for the Brothers to fan out and sneak up behind him. He froze, not hazarding as much as a breath as the length of lethal, finely honed steel pressed into the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. "Looking for something?" the male hissed.

"Not particularly," Carter answered. He held up his hands in surrender and hedged closer to the wall behind him. He was in no position to put up too much of a fight. And killing vampires who actually had a moral compass was not high on his list of priorities. He carried a weapon, strapped to his belt. And of course, he had his fangs and over five hundred years of fighting experience.

He could easily disarm and eliminate the threat of two vampires, especially ones as young as these. He could still smell the lingering traces of their human blood in their systems. They were all but newborns and hadn't even been turned long enough to properly break in their fangs. He admired their conviction though. And the last thing he wanted was to call more attention to himself and his city. He'd met the Great Father, once. And the man was not one to be trifled with. The Great Father didn't play. And he did not tolerate bullshit.

Tonight, it was best to pretend he was newly turned. Mask his power behind the façade that had served him so well throughout the centuries. It was best to let the fight go and live another day. As long as his life weren't in danger, which, it wasn't, not from these two anyway, he saw no need to reveal his true self. "I meant no harm," Carter said.

God, he hated the whining tone in his voice. Despised that the Brothers automatically dismissed him based on his outward appearance alone. They assumed, as everyone else did, that he was too pretty to be taken seriously. He played into the deception, turning up the charm and deceiving them with a coy, innocent grin. He'd like nothing better than to unleash the full force of his power and kick their black, leather-clad asses into next week.

He was fucking older than this country. While their ancestors were barely paddling to the New World. He'd been out fighting wars that these two infants would never read about in any history book. And if it had been just the two of these babies barely out of training pants, instead of the five accompanying them. He might have risked the Great Father's wrath and completed a very necessary lesson in respecting one's elders.

"Perhaps you should just move along and forget that you ever saw us," A feminine voice whispered menacingly from the darkness.

"I'd do that if your blade wasn't at my throat," Carter retorted.

"We want no fight with you."

"Nor I with you. I was merely curious. I meant no offense."

Marcus dug the dagger into the rogue's skin and cut a small nick in his neck as a reminder before releasing him. Marcus had an uncanny nose for bullshit. And he knew it when he smelled it. This rogue was lethal, not nearly as harmless as he pretended to be. At over six-foot four, the rogue had a distinct height advantage. Marcus hadn't gotten close enough to actually feel the lean bulk of muscle hidden beneath the rogue's jacket. And he hadn't searched for weaponry.

But, he knew the rogue was a deadly force when pushed. Pale blond hair curled around an angular jaw, giving the rogue a face that was guaranteed to make any woman sigh and flush at the hint of wicked pleasure he promised in his smile. And Marcus absolutely hated him. He wished he could kick the rogue's ass, if for no other reason than no man should be so damned pretty. It was better to avoid a conflict. Especially when he'd be the one to come out looking like an asshole. The rogue was out numbered. And delivering a smack down would have borrowed trouble they didn't need. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and take home your head as a souvenir."

Carter clamped his hand over the small wound and backed out of the alleyway. Beneath his palm the deep nick was already healing. Before disappearing into the shadows, Carter marked their faces to memory. The female wasn't nearly as delicate up close as she'd appeared to be at a distance. And the male was even more non-descript than Carter had first guessed. The female was a dark raven and the male, a chameleon. He wasn't the only one who relied on deception to survive. Even the brotherhood wore masks these days.

Necessity did strange bedfellows make. And this was not the time for him to be choosy about his allies. There were far too few to be found. Carter cared nothing for friendship beyond its usefulness in the heat of the moment. He was a solitary creature and preferred it that way. But, right now, he needed friends, powerful friends capable of preventing a Rogue Master from moving in and setting up another, worse rein of blood and terror than his predecessor. He vowed, not out of vengeance and wounded pride, but out of that urgent necessity, that his path and the brotherhood's would cross again.

Sam had never seen Marcus so forceful before. So bent on protecting what he considered to be his. And she kind of liked this side of him. She knew there was a tiger hiding beneath his friendly, almost kittenish exterior. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly. "Such a macho man. Damn, you make me hot."

Marcus snickered and stole a quick kiss. "It's the leather babe," he said. Cleaning off the blood staining the tip of his blade with a stray patch of weeds that grew between the cracked asphalt in the alley, he resheathed his weapon he sniffed the air. "The rogue is gone. But, he'll be back and he might bring a few friends with him. Somehow, I don't think he liked the complementary shave he got."

"We should have Anna and the others take Janine and Leigh back to the compound. Maybe, Robbie wouldn't mind sticking around and going on a little hunting expedition."

"Hell no. John Mark gets testy when Robbie's gone for too long. We'll call for some reinforcements. Maybe, Will and Chance wouldn't mind coming to visit for a while. I'd feel better having a couple more warriors around at least until we know exactly how many rogues we're sharing the city with and what their intentions are."

"I see no reason to engage the rogues, unless we have to," Sam agreed. It was best to watch and wait. She didn't want any unnecessary blood on her hands and there had been more than enough death. Her job was to protect humans. Not to execute rogues, at least not the ones worth saving.

"I don't either," Marcus said. He had been as the rogues once were. After escaping the slaughter orchestrated by Kore and Kiros, he and Candace hadn't been any different than a majority of the rogues occupying the city's boundaries. They'd stolen. They'd killed when necessary. But, they were only doing what they had to do to survive. And executing a bunch of rogues in that same situation would make him a hypocrite. He could live with his past. Endure the burden of all the nightmarish things he'd been forced to do. But, he would never be able to live with himself for judging the rogues so unfairly when the brothers had not judged him.

"Now, let's get Janine back home where she belongs."

"Good luck with that," Sam said.

Chapter 37

Toby wholeheartedly agreed with Marcus and Sam. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Robbie and Alex, staring over the tops of their heads to meet the concern in Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian had heard of the vampire that had tracked them from the mall and although the man was a dark shadow, he was not one to be underestimated. Huddled in the dark alley to the side of the bar where they'd gathered to come up with a plan. They'd all come to the same conclusion. Nobody wanted to ruin Janine's last night as a human. But, nobody wanted her dead either. Janine and Leigh needed to go home.

Nobody really knew where Carter's allegiances lay. Nobody knew much about the man at all. He didn't seem to follow any particular faction. That Sebastian knew of, he wasn't one of Roark's. The brotherhood had never encountered so much as a whisper about him. He smelled of a human blood drinker. But, didn't have the sweet, cloying reek of death shrouding him like a cloak. He wasn't a killer. Yet, he hunted and he fed. A stray would have avoided trouble and gotten the hell out of Dodge instead of seeking it out. Carter was a random element the brothers hadn't accounted for. A stalker of shadows and as Marcus had put it, dangerous as fuck.

It might have helped if Marcus and Sam had managed to snap a picture of Carter on their cell phones. At least, the brothers had a physical description of him. And sometimes words were enough. Sebastian had been able to put a name to the face Sam had described in vivid detail. Toby had his work cut out for him. Everyone, no matter how hard they tried, left something behind in history. Somewhere out there in cyberland was a hint to Carter's mysterious past.

Pasts weren't as important as the present and definitely paled in comparison to the future. The main question wasn't exactly who Carter had been. But, who was he now. And exactly which side of the cause he was on. Either he was for them or against them. The motives of his choice in teammates weren't of importance. The brothers just needed to know if he was friend or foe. And if he were a foe, if he caused trouble for them, he'd be taken out with the rest of the trash.

"Who's going to tell her?" Toby asked. Janine had to be handled carefully. Her feelings were tender on the best of days. And tonight, with the anxiety of tomorrow riding her, they'd be particularly fragile. Janine could be stubborn and unreasonable. And she might not take the news well that her little, her last excursion to the city for a long while, was about to be cut short. Carter wasn't the only thing out there with fangs and a possible grudge. They had to keep it quiet. Get her out without her making a scene.

Marcus grated his fangs and volunteered. To this day, despite his love for Sam, he would always have a soft spot for Janine. She had always treated him with kindness and respect. She saw him for the man he was and not as a byproduct of the war that had created him or a reminder of exactly how much that war had cost the brotherhood. "I'll do it."

Janine lounged back in her seat and licked bits of salt and citrus off her upper lip. Her limbs were warm and tingly and her head a little swimmy from the effects of the tequila. She was nicely buzzed. She could almost forget tomorrow, but not quite. There wasn't enough booze in the world to completely take the edge off and douse her worries. Anna shifted restlessly in her seat. Her nostrils flared and her fingers gripped the corner of the table. She was good at hiding her discomfort. A vampire with class, Janine thought silently toasting her. But, it really was time to get going.

As a married woman, the strip club wouldn't be as fun. But, she wasn't blind. And the guys there were prime choice. They had it. They knew it. And they weren't afraid to shake it in your face for a nice tip. Leigh was giggly, gingerly sipping the wine in her glass. Confident and carefree, determined to make the most of what she had. And she was absolutely right. Bad would come soon enough. And tonight was about fun. Damn it, Janine was going to have fun. Tuck the wad of fives and tens into some cute male's g-string. And get piss drunk in the process. Why were they lingering in the pub when the wealth of the city awaited them anyway? "Ladies, I think it's time to get this party officially in gear."

Leigh slid her empty glass to the middle of the table. She rarely drank and the simple glass of Chablis had gone straight to her head. Janine had a nice head start on her. Already sliding into her coat and gathering up her purse. Janine wanted to go to a trendy club downtown and dance the night away in the heat of bodies and thump of heavy bass. The male strippers were a diversion. Tonight, Janine didn't want to think about anything. She wanted to live the rest of her human life in one night. And Leigh wasn't sure she couldn't blame her. "Do you think I'll get another g-string to add to my collection?"

"After seeing what your last victim was packing, or rather, wasn't, I hope not," Janine said. Holding out her pinkie finger, she waggled it for emphasis. She knew men came in all shapes and sizes. But, a male stripper ripped, tanned, muscled, and with the body of a Greek god being so cheated by the one thing his mama didn't give him, just wasn't right.

"You guys are deplorable," Anna scolded. She scanned the room warily and tugged on her coat. Leigh and Janine erupted into a giggling fit so uncontrollable tears gathered at the corners of their eyes. Hurriedly, before the anonymousness of her façade wore thin and the women's laughter drew attention, she herded her charges toward the door.

"But, you love us," Janine chided. Her bad mood hovered around her, threatening to take control. Sitting, like the devil on her shoulders. She ambled to the door, drinking in the ambiance of the pub, all the people, the smells of the different food, and the sounds of conversations. Anna's hand pressed heavily against the small of her back, pushing her forward and Janine almost resented the sudden hurry. Janine wanted to take her time and enjoy. But, Anna would have no part of it. Anna was always so business like, in a cool rush to be off to the next task. The woman hadn't relaxed in life and death hadn't changed that one bit.

"Yeah, I do," she confessed. Holding the exit door wide, she ushered her charges outside into the cold. Anna steered Janine toward the idling SUV and Leigh complacently tagged along. The smell of vampire and danger hung thickly in the night air. The essence of it, the urgency, was something Janine wouldn't be able to detect. Janine could be blessedly oblivious when she wanted to be. And Anna couldn't blame her. Sometimes, she wished she were so unaware of every little nuance in the world hidden from human senses.

Everyone was gathered, waiting to see Janine off. Marcus, Sam, Sebastian, and Starr were going to remain behind. As important as the ceremony was, the brothers couldn't afford to leave the city so vulnerable. These days, duty came first and foremost. A smile lit Anna's face as Marcus rounded the SUV. Clad in black leather, he looked dangerous. Definitely, not the sweet, unsure Marcus she'd remembered. He'd finally found his place in the brotherhood and he was exactly where he belonged.

"Markie!" Half jogging with her purse bouncing off her shoulder and her balance precarious in her stiletto heels, she squealed in delight and leapt into his arms. He swept her up into a bear hug. Gently, he spun her around and set her back on her feet. Steadying her with a hand at her elbow until he was certain she was balanced on the heels.

A smile curved Marcus's lips. Janine looked great, as she always did. The woman never had a hair out of place or anything less than flawless makeup. Tonight, she'd gone all out and worn her best for her last night on the town. It wouldn't have mattered if she wore rags or never bothered with makeup at all. Her outward appearance wasn't what counted. It was that spark that was just Janine that was beautiful.

He regretted that life had taken them in such very different directions and he hadn't spent nearly enough time with her when he had it to spare. Now, when it mattered, he couldn't be there for her. His duty was here. And tomorrow night, although he'd be with her in spirit and she was hardly going through this on her own, he would be here in the city and not with her.

Gently, he pulled her by the elbow to the rear of the SUV. Everyone got the hint and scattered to give them some privacy. Sam, chatted it up with Anna, Toby, Alex, Leigh, and Robbie piled into the SUV, taking their seats, and Sebastian and Starr melted into the shadows surrounding the pub. "Markie?"

Janine stood on her tiptoes and ruffled his hair with her fingertips. He looked lethal and threatening on the surface. But, underneath the black leather and the stern expression, she saw the boyish, playful light in his eyes and the hint of uncertainty tugging at the corners of his mouth. Patrick wasn't the jealous type. Oh, who was she kidding? Of course, he was. But, that wasn't the reason she hadn't seen much of Marcus lately. They'd let life get in the way of their friendship and now their paths were going in two different directions. "I've missed you."

Marcus chuckled, Sam was his wife, but Janine was his girl, always would be. "I've missed you too," he said, ducking the path of her fingertips through his hair. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly in his palm. It was hard enough to play the dangerous Brother type without having his hair mussed. He wasn't a huge mountain of muscle like most of the other brothers. And it was twice as hard for him to maintain the image and have anyone take him seriously. Janine was already a little drunk. Which might make it easier to convince her to go home, or more difficult. "So, this is your last night, huh?"

"Uh huh," Janine said. The brave front she'd been working so hard to build crumbled into dust at her feet and her bottom lip quavered. Her fingers trembled in Marcus's strong grip. And she took a breath to steady herself. Maybe it was the alcohol that loosened her tongue and set the words tumbling out of her mouth. Or maybe, there were things she just couldn't share, not even with Patrick, especially not with Patrick. Marcus was different. She could tell him anything and trust him to keep it to himself. "I'm so scared. I...just...I want tomorrow to be over with."

Marcus pulled Janine up into a tight hug and rested her head on his shoulder. "I know. I know," he said trying to comfort her. One cigarette had changed his life. He'd never had the burden of decision. What Janine was going through, gauging out these final hours of her life, he couldn't begin to imagine. "I wish I could be there with you."