Dawn's Path: Completed Work

"No, you can't. He stands guard over Alex. He knows she's happy, and that, although he has not, she has made peace with his death. Telling her would only destroy them both and Chance along with them. You must keep this truth to yourself. When Lucien is ready, he will accept and cross. He lingers because he senses his duties are not yet at an end. Soon, child, soon they will be and he will know peace at last.

"For you, this is only the beginning. You will return and receive the fullness of my gift. Times are changing. And I want you to deliver a message to your brothers and sisters." Kokumthena crouched low, running her hands along the fur on the dogs' backs as she cooed gently to them. "A new era has come. Tell them not to fear that which they don't understand. I am the mother of many children. The children of Psaiwiwuhkernekah Ptweowa, The Great White Wolf, have traveled long and far and it is time for them to return to their home at last."

Janine nodded. "I... I'll try to remember."

Kokumthena stepped over to Janine and rested her hands on the top of her blonde curls. "You will remember. Go now child. Go back to the world you belong to."

Janine stubbornly remained rooted to the spot. She would go. But, she had something she wanted to do first. She needed to do this for Lucien and for Alex and maybe in part for herself. The goddess and the dogs were gone and she was alone on the beach. She would pass on Kokumthena's cryptic message. She wouldn't forget. She'd make sure she remembered. And as for the biggest secret she'd ever kept from Alex in her life, she would not breathe a word.

The river water was cool, splashing over her toes as she waded toward the middle. The gentle current tugged on the hem of the simple cotton shift she'd been wearing when she died. She wasn't about to cross the river. But, she was going to say hello to an old friend. "Lucien," she said. "It's Janine."

Lucien had been wandering around this place for what seemed like forever. His memories of what happened before he awoke on the shore were fragmented and confusing. With each fleeting moment, he forgot more and more of the things that were so important. Things he struggled to remember. He walked the beach. And his feet always carried him to the same spot, to the middle of the river. The voices begging him to the distant shore never stopped. They hounded him constantly. Here, the sun never set, it never rained, it was never too cold and too hot, and the perfection of it all burred into one long, endless, day.

He knew the woman tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket. Her name hovered on the tip of his tongue. But, he hadn't spoken to anyone in so long, his lips fumbled to form words. "Janine." His voice was rusty from lack of use. He frowned down at her. She wasn't supposed to be here yet. She was still alive, a brilliant flame of life in this lifeless, perfect place. He wasn't alive. And why he was still here was a mystery to him. There was something he had to do. Someone he was waiting for.

Janine grappled for words. Wasn't it bad form to tell a dead person how good they looked? Lucien looked exactly the same. The way she remembered him. But, maybe that was a trick of her mind. Bluntness might be better. Gently, she cupped his cheek, gasping at how real he felt against her fingertips.

"Alex is happy, Lucien. Knowing you're like this would break her heart. She nearly died when she lost you. Your death took so much out of her. Chance is good to her. But, he isn't you. He'll never be you. She loves you, Lucien. More than she ever got the chance to tell you. She loved you enough to keep on living, even when she didn't want to. She loves you enough to let you go. And you should do the same. Let her go, Lucien. Be happy. You see those people over there. They're waiting for you. Go to them. Rest. Find peace."

Lucien lowered his cheek, reveling at the warmth of Janine's touch. He hadn't felt something this alive and real in so very long. And he was cold. So very cold. Her lips were a hot brush across his jaw. He had so many things he wanted to say. So many things left undone. Janine was gone, back to the land of the living. The sound of her voice lingered in his ears. And for the first time in a very long time, he considered the distant shore and the people waiting for him. He would go to them. Just as soon as he finished what he was waiting to do.

Gasping and moaning, Janine tasted the sweet, rich, flow of Patrick's blood on her tongue. Instinctively, she knew it was the very essence of his life and that he was freely giving it to her. Latching on, she drank, drawing his strength and power deep within her depleted body. Grappling for her hold on life and releasing the cold chill of death.

Patrick whispered a prayer of thanks to the goddess. Janine was going to be fine. Magic flowed from him into her. Fusing with her cells to give her life. She drank feebly, weakly grappling with his wrist as her lips worked at the wound he'd bitten in his flesh. "Drink babe. Drink for me," he begged. Working his finger across her throat, he coaxed down swallow after swallow. Crying hot tears of relief as she regained her strength and her lungs drew breath.

Janine cried out as Patrick's blood found its purchase. Ravaging each cell, bursting the membrane, latching onto her DNA, rebuilding and reforming her into something other than human. Waves of freezing cold bit into her limbs, numbing and burning them at the same time. Up the chill spread, through her torso and into her heart. Biting and ripping agony tore through her in wide chasms of pure suffering. She heard Patrick's voice, encouraging her to hold on, telling her that she was going to be fine. But, at the moments, in between the screams of torture and spasms of blinding agony, she wanted to die.

When the pain finally receded, Janine hazarded to open her eyes and take a look at her new world. Everything was the same. But, it was different. Colors more brilliant. The night as bright as the day. Scents and noises she hadn't noticed before shouted in her ears. And she could smell the deep essence of all the life around her. But, nothing held her attention as much as the man holding her in his arms, smiling down at her with his trademark, cocky, crooked grin.

She lifted a fingertip to trace the outline of his lips and smiled up at him. Realizing she probably looked ridiculous with her baby fangs poking out from underneath of her awkward grin. She'd awakened right this time. Everything was perfect in its imperfection. She was very much alive and well, a vampire, forever a part of this world. And in this world was exactly where she belonged.

Chapter 45

Angel was noticeably absent during the ceremony. Lance had tried to let it slide. Her non-attendance wasn't really any of his concern. Nothing she did was his problem. Bryce had been tight on his heels like a hound dog on a scent all day. Lance really didn't have the energy for a heart to heart with his best friend. And he'd managed to avoid Bryce until now. There was no avoiding Bryce on the bluffs. Luckily though, Bryce's full attention was focused on Janine for the time being. The man was married and happy as a clam. But, a part of him still belonged to Janine. Always would. And maybe love was just that way. You moved on. But, you never really moved on. No matter how very married or happy you were, a piece of you always belonged to someone you had loved with such fierceness that nobody, not even your wife, could claim it back. If that were the case, Lance knew he was fucked, so damned fucked.

Angel owned him, lock, stock, and barrel. His body still ached with longing for her. His soul felt like it had been ripped in two. And now he understood Bryce's unwillingness or inability to listen to reason. Having your heart broken fucking hurt. It was far too easy for Lance to twist his pain into rage and bitter indignation. Angel should be here for Janine. Whether Angel liked it or not, Janine considered her a friend. Janine's heart was far too tender, her feelings too easily shattered, and she took things way too personally. When she opened her eyes for the first time, after the confusion and the pain faded, Janine would notice that Angel was missing. And she'd be asking him for answers.

Janine's screams shattered the silence of the woods. Screaming was good. The ear piercing sound of them meant she wasn't dead. Lance swallowed down the bile bubbling up in his throat and cast a glance at Bryce. His friend's grim expression, the worry and fear shadowing his face were no doubt, mirrored on his own. This was the worst part. The ticking of the clock as the seconds passed by and one life ended and a new one began. Janine was suddenly still as death. Patrick crouched on the ground beside her, feeding her his blood. Begging urgently with her to drink and complete the process. There was a collective sigh of relief as Janine latched on. And on a scream more agonizing than Lance had ever heard, a new vampire was born.

The brothers breathed a collective sigh of relief as the screams faded and Janine opened her eyes, batting her baby blues as she grinned up at them with an awkward toothy grin. She was a new being. Changed and yet still the same. The scent of human blood filled the air as Janine suckled Leigh's wrist, consuming her first meal with the enthusiasm of a newborn at a mother's breast. Janine would need their support. Each and every brother present on the bluffs tonight would have a hand in raising her right. And that included Angel.

Once Lance was certain that Janine was fine, he eased into the shadows. As soon as Janine had mastery over her body and her senses the First Hunt would begin. And the brothers would celebrate to welcome her into her rightful place in their world until the crack of dawn. The First Hunt was an important rite of passage. There were very few times a Son could acknowledge his darker half and let the hunter inside of him free. Tonight was one of the rare nights the woods were not safe for any creature. And every measure possible had been taken to ensure there were no humans trespassing in their domain. For tonight, they hunted with intent. Not to simply to pacify the never-ending thirst with a sip. Tonight they hunted in celebration and for the kill. Tonight blood would flow and they would drink deeply and heavily from the bounty of their prey.

Angel needed to be here for Janine. And damn it, even if he had to drag her here by the spiky ends of her hair, she was going to be. Janine didn't deserve the fall out from their...whatever it was. Janine needed her friends. Angel could run from him. But, he'd be damned if he was going to let her run from Janine.

Storming through the darkness he came to the magnetically sealed door separating the compound from the rest of the world. The electronic palm reader and retinal scanner took too long to register his identity and disengage the locks. Stomping out of sheer impatience, he gritted his fangs as he waited. He did not want to be the one to test how vampire proof the door truly was. But, it was all he could do not to rip the door from its hinges as the door slowly ground open granting him admittance. He didn't care that Angel might rip off his face or knee him in the balls for nothing more than trying to get her to do the right thing. He didn't give a damn about anything except hauling her out to the bluffs and forcing her to acknowledge that even though she didn't want any part of his world, she was a part of Janine's.

Angel ripped her clothes off the hangers and emptied the contents of her dresser drawers into a duffel bag. Everyone was distracted by the goings on at the bluffs and if she were going to get out. Now was the time to do it. She didn't own much in the way of personal possessions, just the basics, a few changes of clothes, underwear, and a good pair of boots. She fingered the angel wind chime Lance had bought for her and thought the better of stuffing it in her bag. The less of her past she packed the easier it would be to leave it behind.

The pink bear smiled sappily up at her as she grabbed him from his resting place on the center of her bed. Running her palm over his plush fur, she wavered in indecision. The patch together job of crisscrossed threat stitches that had put him back together was barely visible through his thick, soft fur. How odd it was that a stuffed toy had such a big part to play in the grand scheme of things. She'd always thought Kayla towed the damn thing with her wherever she went as a security blanket of sorts. She'd or anyone else for that matter would have ever guessed the bear was Kayla's escape from Hell. Kayla didn't need him anymore. Mr. Smiles had done his job. And he'd done it well. Kayla had her heaven. And she'd passed him down to Angel in the small hopes that she would as well. And for a while, Angel believed it too. The reality of the truth, at least for her, was that there was no heaven. Only varying degrees of hell. And there was no escape.

Angel set Mr. Smiles in the center of the mound of pillows on her bed. Maybe, he'd bring somebody else better luck than he'd brought her. She checked her bag and tugged the zipper into place. It wasn't much to start over with. She had no money, no place to go, and no plan. At this point, she couldn't say when or if she'd ever come back to this place. Not until she'd figured things out for herself and battled her own way out of the Hell of her making. The world out there was harsh and cruel. And she was about to face it on her own. Not a smart thing to do. Running and leaving these people behind was not an act of bravery. But, one of absolute stupidity, and she could admit it, one of cowardice. It wasn't these people or this place she was running from. Everyone seemed perfectly content to give her the space she needed, except for one person. And it was him that she was running from.

Lance had gotten too close. He'd seen her at her worst and he kept coming back for more. He was in her, body and soul. His blood coursed through her veins. Their hearts beat in time with one another. The link bound them. The magic of it flowed through space and time drawing them inexorably together. Humans might call this raw emotion so stifling and terrifying love. She'd survived so long by her wits and sheer luck. She'd learned long ago caring about anybody wasn't worth the effort or the risk. People could hurt you in ways that had nothing to do with floggers. Emotional pain was far worse than any bruises. And she, hovering on the brink of almost believing in him and in love had almost given in to something she couldn't afford to believe in. Hope.

Hope was too short-lived. The brothers had defeated Roark. But, someday, there'd be someone they wouldn't be able to stand against. And this, the compound and all the people in it would be dust. She was all about survival by any means possible. Hope was expensive. Running was easier than fighting for something, for someone, and in the end losing them anyway.

The magic of the link shimmered with glee, glowing and wrapping around her with an ethereal golden embrace. Lance was close and drawing closer. Each heartbeat brought him nearer and nearer. She checked her pocket and breathed out a sigh of relief that the charred chunk of wood was tucked snugly inside. This was the only thing from her past she was taking into the future. It would serve her far better than any stuffed bear or pretty wind chime. The burned scrap from Roark's funeral pyre represented what was real and what was not. That love, hope, and life itself was fleeting and in the end nothing but ash, heat, and smoke.

Lance didn't bother with the formality of knocking on Angel's door. He barged in and stopped in his tracks, his eyes bouncing between her, the guilt etched in her expression, and the packed bag sitting on the edge of her bed. "Running again?" he asked. His voice had a sharpness to it, hinged with bitterness and anger, bordering on rage. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood between her and the open door. If she thought for one minute that he would simply step aside and let her pass, she was wrong. Angel was his mate. His life. His love. Hell, she was his, period. And he was not going to let her go without a fight.

He could use her against herself. That little episode he'd witnessed on the bluffs was enough to lock her away for a very long time. The fact that she had that fucking scrap of wood tucked in her pocket could be used to prove how very unstable she was. It might make him a bastard. And she might hate him forever. But, she'd be here where he could protect her. Out there she was fresh meat to be gobbled up by the predators, nothing but prey in a pretty package. She wouldn't last a day on her own. "Aren't you getting just a little tired of this game?"

Angel squared her shoulders and drew in a deep steadying breath. Lance was angrier than she'd ever seen him. His dark eyes blazed with sparks of fury. His muscles bulged and flexed with barely leashed force. His voice was harsh and accusing, hinged with rage. "I am," she answered. Snatching her duffel off the bed, she matched his hard stare and determined stance. "Do you think I like this thing that I am? I know I'm fucked up. Confused. That sometimes, the reality I see isn't real to anyone but me. You can force me to stay. I realize that if you pled your case to Dane, he'd agree to lock me up and throw away the key. But, is that really how you want to win?"

"It isn't about winning," Lance said, wishing he truly believed it. "It's about losing...losing you and losing myself in the process. And that's what I'm not willing to risk. It stopped being about you the second our blood mingled on the tips of our tongues. Angel, this is about us. Like it or not, we're in this together. You are a part of me and I am a part of you. We belong together."

Angel sighed and dropped the duffel bag onto the floor. "I know. And that's why I have to go. Lance, I'm dragging you down with me. I can't do that. I can barely handle my own life, let alone bear the responsibility for yours. We might, we might not have a future together. I really don't know. But, how can I look ahead to anything when all I can do is keep looking behind me? Roark is dead. I realize the truth for what it is. But, to me, he's still alive. He always will be until I kill him. And that isn't something you can do for me. I have to do it for myself.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't even know why I did it. You deserve so much better. And I wish, you don't know how badly I wish, I was that person." Tears bubbled in the corners of Angel's eyes as the pain of the truth of her words registered in Lance's expression. "Lance, if you love me as much as you say you do, you'll step aside and let me go. It's the only way. Other than locking me away forever, it's the only option there truly is. Are you willing to do that, Lance. Force me to stay?"

Every word out of Angel's mouth was the absolute truth. Lance had no other choice but to step aside and watch her walk out of his life. She was doing it to save him as much, or maybe more, than she was doing it to save herself. "Will you at least stay long enough to say goodbye to Janine?"

Angel was relieved Janine had survived the transformation. Janine would do well in this world of darkness and shadow. Janine was a beacon of light and of hope, the exact opposite of her. Angel had been born in darkness and there she would stay. She was the stone around the neck of a drowning man. And she would not pull Lance under for the third and final time. Staring up at him. Reeling from the pain in his expression and the dulling of hope as it faded from his eyes, she realized, maybe she wasn't as afraid of love as she thought. She loved plenty. And she was sacrificing everything as a consequence of it. "No. Janine is Janine. She'll get over it."