Dawn's Path: Completed Work

"What about Kayla?" Lance was playing dirty in his ploy to convince Angel into sticking around. Maybe, Kayla could do what he could not and talk her into staying. Maybe, Dane would forbid her from leaving, if he knew she was going and why. Keene knew Angel so well. He'd surely come up with something to stop her from setting her feet on this course. "Keene? Don't they deserve some kind of an explanation?"

Angel shook her head. Lance was grabbing at straws, trying every possible angle and excuse to delay her. "I think it's better this way. Lance, you're just going to have to trust me on this. Saying goodbye would only hurt them both." Braving his slumbering rage, too dulled by shock to react, she cupped his cheek in her hand. "Lance, I..."

"You what, Angel? Love me? You're tearing me apart! Running is so easy for you. What about me? What am I supposed to do with the pieces you're leaving behind?" Lance was desperate. He wasn't beyond using guilt to convince her to stay. At least then, if she unpacked that bag and stuck this out, one of them would be happy. "Please. Stay. Try. For me," he begged. Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around Angel's waist. Letting her go was impossible. And at the critical seconds where she lingered in indecision, ripping both of their hearts out as he did so, he clung to her. His shoulders quivering from the weight of his sobs and the tears he cried as he buried his face into her stomach.

"Lance, don't," Angel said. She ran her fingers through his pale blond hair, pressing his face to her belly. The wetness of his tears seared her skin like acid. She wanted to drop to her knees, grip him to her and hold him. Promise him anything just to end his bitter sobs. "I have to go." Tearing his arms from around her waist, she bent and gripped the strap of her duffel bag. Even though she owned so little, and was leaving with not much more than she'd had when she'd arrived, the strap dug into her shoulder, weighting her down.

Lance felt the sudden chill in the absence of the warmth of Angel's body. He couldn't let her leave like this. All the odds were against her. And if she went out in the world with nothing more than a hunk of charred wood in her pocket and a duffel bag, she wouldn't make it alone. He fished in his wallet and pulled out a shiny credit card. "Take this. There's no limit. Use however much you need. The keys are hanging on the hook in the garage. Anna won't mind." Angel's fingers clenched and unclenched, hovering over his offering. "Take it, for me."

Angel knew Lance was trying to make peace, if not with the situation or with her then with himself. His offer was generous. But, if she took him up on the card and the car, he'd be able to find her wherever she went. "I need to do this on my own," she protested.

"Angel, if you're worried about my tracking you through the use of the card, don't be. I don't need a trail of charge receipts to keep tabs on you. I'll always be able to find you. Distance or time won't matter. You're a part of me, like it or not. Just take the card and the car. Please."

"Lance, I wasn't...," Angel stuttered as Lance cut her off with a wave of his hand. Anger suited him no better than his grief. He'd done a good job of stuffing his hurt feelings away someplace where they weren't recognizable or so painful. The brothers would only catch glimpses of his emotions through the link. But, they would know nothing more or less than what he wanted them to.

"Yes, you were and I don't blame you. It's a dangerous world out there. Sometimes, it's hard to know who your friends are. At the very least, you can consider me that, a friend. I'll do as you ask and let you go. I won't try to find you. I'll wait and hope that one day, you'll come back."

"You might be waiting a very long time, Lance. That's not fair of me to ask or for you to promise. Things change. If...,"

Lance didn't give Angel a chance to finish her sentence. "Time is all I've got. Everything else, my heart and soul, goes with you when you walk out the door. For me, there will never be another."

Angel shook her head and winced at the honesty in his eyes. He was telling the absolute truth. Lance was no different in this than he was in his approach to anything else. He dedicated himself heart and soul to the things he believed in. And even though she hadn't earned it. He believed in her. She took the card from his outstretched fingertips and tucked it in the zipper compartment of her bag. Steeling her resolve, she left him crouched on his knees in the middle of her bedroom floor. His eyes followed her, boring holes into the back of her head with each step she took. "Angel, where will you go?"

She shrugged and adjusted the weight of her bag on her shoulder. "I don't know. Back to the scene of the crime, I guess. Somehow, it only seems fitting that I should go back to where it ended and where it all began. Who knows?" She snorted, stifling a bitter chuckle. "Maybe, I'll find myself somewhere in between the beginning and the end."

Lance couldn't meet Angel's eyes. He rested his weight on the heels of his boots and scraped what remained of his strength. Pushing himself to his feet, he stiffened his knees to remain upright. He would not have her last image of him be one of a broken man. And he would not beg. She wasn't the only one with choices. It was time he'd made a few of his own. He'd always known someday she'd walk out the door. That she'd run and keep running. This time, he wasn't going to chase her. "And if you do?"

Angel rested her palm on the door's cool wood. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. She saw nothing in their depths but hard determination and unbending resolve. She was on her own. He wasn't going to be there to pull her back from the edge. If she toppled over, she'd fall, and keep falling until she hit the bottom.

She would not lie to him. Ever. Not even to save herself. She understood all it would take would be one word of hope for him to reach out and save her. Angel had to remind herself that this was what she wanted. Her aloneness was the only salvation she needed. She could destroy herself. But, she was only one person and she'd be the only one to suffer. "I don't know."

Angel's scent lingered long after the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance. Lance ran his fingertips over the remnants of the life he'd tried to give her and she'd abandoned. The angel wind chime tinkled merrily as he brushed his hand over the silver chimes. The sandals he'd bought her were still in the box on the bottom shelf of her closet. And the bear was exactly where she'd left it, perched on the pillows on the bed. She'd taken only the necessities and left the rest for someone else to deal with. Left him for someone else to deal with.

Lance flicked off the lamp on Angel's bedside table and closed the door behind him. He didn't think he'd seen the last of Angel. She needed space and time. Eventually, she'd realize she didn't have to go as far to find herself as she thought she did. If she ran far enough for long enough, she'd end up right back where she started. Maybe, that was the reality behind the reason he'd stepped aside and let her go. His Dark Angel would figure it out. Sooner or later, everybody did. There was no way to run from yourself forever.

Chapter 46

The Great Father slid silently through the unnaturally quiet woods. The air was still, crisp, and cool. The ground layered with the lingering white frost of winter. Dawn light shone in thin patches of pale light through the dense cover of a gunmetal gray sky. Snow was coming. A final winter storm brewed on the horizon. He could feel the energy of the building flurries buzzing in his bones. The birds and tiny woodland creatures, usually celebrated the morning with their chatter and musical song. Today they were silent. And the trees dark sentinels without a breath of life stirring in the branches over his head. The animals sensed the storm and the presence of something that did not belong there, something as unnatural as him.

The wolf was close. The sting of blood, coppery and rich, filled his nostrils, combining with the musky scent of the wolf and the sweetness of female, the aroma teased and called to him on a level he didn't quite understand. Her energy rippled over his skin, hot and stinging. And something deep inside of him reveled in her power, scrabbling at the borders of his mind and clawing at his flesh in its desperation to burst free.

The sensation was not pleasant. Pain ripped at him, tearing him apart on the inside out. Yet, he managed to maintain control. His very soul ached with longing, as if somehow, this female was a vital to him, a critical link to his past and a bridge to his future. He grappled with the urge to give himself over to the wild power rippling along his skin and let it finish what it had begun inside of him. He could not do that. Not until he understood it better. He was a vampire, one of the most dreaded hunters on the planet. Designed by his very nature for the kill. And what was inside of him was far more dangerous. Powerful. Instinctive. A creature of both spirit and flesh, governed by forces he could not afford to unleash.

The female held the answers to his questions. He'd stalked his wolf to the outermost boundaries of the woods, far out of the danger of the First Hunt. As their leader, it was his job to oversee the ceremony and lead the hunt. He'd failed his Sons. But, the need to keep her safe had overridden any sense of duty. In the frenzy of First Hunt, his Sons might have torn her apart. And he'd decided that the law, whether she was fully human or not, harmless or not, applied to her in the fullest of its measure. It wasn't just his goddess driven edict to protect all life that spurred his choice. He needed her alive. If for no other reason than to explain the strange happenings inside of his body and mind. The stirrings in his psyche were ones of fierce protectiveness. Almost as if, his soul had decided for him that he'd found his mate. He'd kill, one of his own, if he had to, to protect her.

The Great Father had been hunting since the day he was old enough to hold a bow in his hands. He could use his vampire abilities to speed the hunt. But, instinctively he knew this was not a hunt of speed. Rather, one of stealth and cunning. Old habits died very hard and his fingers itched for the weapons he hadn't used in almost two hundred years. The wolf was smart. And he had not failed to notice the glimmer of human sensibilities and predatory intelligence in her dark eyes. She would not be captured easily. And throughout the night, although he'd been riding her hard, she'd managed to stay two steps ahead of him.

These woods were filled with secrets. The trees and land told stories to those who would listen. Filled with the goddess's presence and power, the branches whispered caution and the leaves scuttling in the sudden burst of cold northern wind told tales of long ago. The townspeople in the valley below believed the woods to be haunted. And the myths had served the brotherhood well throughout the years. They'd done nothing to dispute the stories uttered on wagging tongues. Visitors weren't particularly welcome. But, despite the rumors, there was one time of year the woods were trampled with clumsy human feet. Hunting season had come and any idiot with an inclination to do so stalked the territory in search of game.

Deer were the primary target. But, if a human saw the wolf, she would be no safer than the deer. Wolves were not common in this area. These lands had been claimed by the conventions of modern society. And thriving cities and towns had been carved out of the trees long ago. The wolf was a creature not of this world. A being, he sensed, not so different in its origins than that of the magic that had created him. But, paranormal in her birth or not, a lucky hunter armed with a high power rifle might find his mark. She was not safe here. She did not belong in his woods. Whether she went willingly or not, he had to get her someplace where human feet were forbidden to tread.

Hot on the trail, he bounded through the underbrush, driving her further out of the territory. He was dangerously close to town. But, she was safe enough from the hunters for the time being. He caught no hint of human scent in the air. In the distance, a rifle shot cracked and echoed, breaking the silence. He smirked as he scented the air for the tang of spilled blood. For all the toys and modern conventions, when it seemed absolutely impossible to fail, the human had missed the shot. Idiot.

The wolf was wearing down. The Great Father heard her labored panting and the air was heavy with the scent of exhaustion and hunger. Killing was a part of survival. And he'd taken great care to ensure the wolf found the bounty he'd left for her. Wolves weren't picky eaters. He'd been far choosier in his hunting than she'd ever be in her eating. And he'd taken down a magnificent buck, a strong animal with a dense layer of winter fat on his bones and a heavy rack of antlers on his head. She'd appreciate the easy meal.

A part of him reveled in the hunt in a way he never had before. The hunt had not been about bringing down prey. This hunt had been one of skill and cunning. He understood little about the female beyond the sum of legends and the stories he'd heard whispered around campfires as a boy. Modern convention with its easy definitions for anything and everything would call her a werewolf. He called her something else. Goddess kissed. Blessed. Magic.

The wolf and the female were one. Warm. Alive. The wolf quickened the wildness trapped within him. And the woman breathed life into the male he'd denied for so very long. Forever had been too long. Eternity alone was too much a burden, too heavy a stone to bear. Losses stacked one on top of the other in layers. His brother was gone. His born sons lived only in his memory. And his wife, he'd tried to give her forever. He'd failed. Legacy lived on despite the passing of the years. He saw her in John Mark and in Dane, in Will, and in Chance. He'd deceived himself into believing for so very long that the measure of comfort of seeing the lingering pieces of her, of his true sons, and of him in their eyes was enough. Family was everything. But, not even they could ease the ache of loneliness on a cold winter's night.

He crouched in the spindly tangles of winter bare blackberry brambles as the wolf stopped to sniff at his offering. Watching her tear at the buck's thick pelt with her sharp canines and consume his gift, male pride surged through him. He'd driven her hard to this remote corner of his woods. Exhaustion and hunger made her careless. She was so enraptured with her supper that she didn't notice him as he crept from the blind. An ill placed footfall snapped a twig under his heel alerting her to his presence. Blood and other things dripped from her black muzzle as she lifted her head from the carcass. A warning growl rumbled from deep in her chest and her black fur bristled on end. Her upper lip curled to reveal a row of lethally sharp, white teeth.

The Great Father knew as little about natural wolves as he did preternatural ones. Wolves simply didn't belong in his territory and he'd had no experience with them. But, he did understand predators. He stilled and crouched low to the ground, balancing his weight his on his heels. The gesture brought them eye to eye. But, he didn't look up. He kept his eyes down. Focusing on the imprints from her paws, stamped into the mud. Magic surged through him. Calling to him in a whisper as soft as the caress of a summer breeze against heated skin.

Hunger knew no fear and the wolf returned her attention to the deer. The male crouched within snapping distance of her powerful jaws, watching her with those soulful eyes of his. She could rend flesh from bone with one swipe of a claw. Something he'd do well to remember. She was small for one of her kind, but far from defenseless. Bristling her fur and flashing her teeth in both a warning and a promise, she ripped a mouthful of flesh from the carcass and savored the freshness of the kill, contemplating him as he, crouching on the ground, contemplated her.

Tala reeled, awareness rippling through her as her wolf and the male studied one another. Things were different when she was in wolf form. Every sensation, every sight, sound, and scent amplified to a fevered pitch. She and the wolf were one, as they'd always been. She was aware. But, she was not the one in complete control. Not when the wolf wore her skin. Her wolf was wary of the male. And Tala was in complete agreement. Outsiders were not to be trusted. And until she was certain this male was an ally, her wolf would serve their cause far better.

Understanding lifted the veil from the Great Father's eyes. Sensibility and logic saw the wolf dining on prey. Magic revealed the hidden. And he could see the woman watching him through the wolf's eyes. He drew strength from the goddess and projected the power through him onto the wolf. Whispering words in his native tongue, he called to the female, coaxing her into her shared flesh. His native tongue, the sound of it so soft and musical, was a healing balm. He rarely spoke the ancient words anymore. And the last time he'd heard them in this plane of existence, where there was more physical than spiritual, was from his brother's lips.

The words from the male's lips were alive. Fingers of energy wrapped around the wolf's body, stroking her fur with ethereal fingers of power. The wolf didn't resist the familiar caress of her mistress's power. She'd traveled long and far and she was eager to surrender this earthly shell and return to the shadowy land of her mistress's realm.

Awareness slammed into Tala with all the finesse of a wrecking ball. Her body trembled with the force of the oncoming transformation from wolf to human. Fur shed, giving way to skin. Claws transformed into hands. Fangs shortened, no longer sharp, but blunt human teeth. Her vision, in color, dulled. And her sense of smell was almost non-existent in this form. Gasping from a spasm of pain, she clawed at the mud beneath her. Bones ground and popped, breaking and reforming as her body shed its wolf form and she became human.

It was cold in this form, so cold without the fur to keep her warm. The only sound she heard with her dulled hearing was that of her own pained breathing and shuddering gasps. The change was never gentle. The pain of it lessened with time. But, it was never a pleasant thing. And it was during these fragile seconds, when she hovered between wolf and human that she was at her most vulnerable. Tala lay on the ground shivering, naked and disoriented. The taste of wild game, of earth, and fresh blood coated her tongue, gagging her. She willed her limbs to move. Useless and twitching, they refused to obey. Her mind was a hailstorm of confusion. And she could not make sense of the barren trees looming over her head or the man, staring at her with a mix of horror and morbid fascination on his face.

The Great Father watched the agonizing transformation with rapt fascination. The female was naked. And his sensibilities dictated he look away. But, he could not force his eyes to obey the simple command. It was not a very gentlemanly thing to do. To stare so blatantly at her curves and the ripe peaks of her small breasts, at the soft down between her parted thighs. And it was definitely not honorable of him to react so to her nudity. He was hard and aching, battling primal urges that had not stirred within him since his human days. His eyes traveled up and down every bare inch of her, feasting on the bounty of bronze skin. Of their own volition, his fingers stretched outward to touch what his eyes saw.