Dawn's Path: Completed Work

The eggs Anna had painstakingly whipped into something called an omelet occupied one plate. She'd taken the time to add thin slivers of orange slices along the side for decoration. Pancakes dripping with melted butter and syrup were stacked high on a second plate. And the third plate was piled high with crispy strips of bacon and round sausage patties. At least, he recognized the food, which was something. He watched as Anna arranged the plates on a tray and poured steaming coffee into a mug. "What's in a name anyway?" he asked absently.

His question shocked Anna. The Great Father was a deep well of wisdom and usually, if he spoke to you at all, it was because he had some insightful truth to impart. He hadn't been in a very talkative mood and seemed quite content to scuff up her floor with the soles of his shoes. That he was actually asking a question and blinking at her in expectation of an answer was really a far stretch. And it told her more about his mental state than his agitated pacing had. She thought long and hard. Busying her hands with arranging the plates on the tray. Her thoughts came easier when she was doing something. And she really wanted to give him an honest answer and a good one. "Well, a name should say who you are and what you represent. At least, that's what I believe anyway."

"I'm the Great Father. What else is there beyond that?" Maybe, that was the true reason he was having so much trouble picking out a name. For the better part of two centuries he'd defined himself by his duty rather than by anything else. He hadn't forgotten who he was, just what, who he was meant to him beyond his station in life.

"Yeah, that's a part of it. But really," she said, flipping a wooden spoon in his direction as she turned on her heel to look him in the eye, "WHO are you? We know bits and pieces of you. The parts you choose to show. But, none of us really know who you are. Tell me, Father. Who is the Great Father? Not the leader... the man inside the leader.

"There are plenty of good names out there. Unfortunately, only one is perfect for you. Most of us don't get to choose. Our parents do it for us. And we become perfect for the name. A name is important. Critical. And that you're getting to pick one is truly enviable."

"Who am I?" Now wasn't that an excellent question. He was leader to his people, father of a great race, a warrior and a man. It was the man, only the man that the depths of his heart wanted to be. A warrior and a man, he wanted a name that represented both. He told Anna his wants and watched as she tapped away with her fingertip flying across the slender device she pulled out of her hip pocket. After a few seconds, she read from the list of possible choices. The name Andrew struck a cord deep within him.

The name meant warrior. Andrew was one of Jesus' first apostles and a leader of men. Brave beyond measure, he'd sacrificed his life for his brothers and the cause of his faith. Something, the Great Father would gladly do again. He'd died once on the battlefield for the cause of something greater than himself. He'd died for his people and for freedom. "Andrew," he said decisively.

"Drew." Anna sampled the word on the tip of her tongue and nodded in approval. The name suited a man like the Great Father. Getting over the habit of addressing him as Father was going to take a little time. But, she could manage. The brothers could manage. He'd done so much, sacrificed so much of himself for them. Calling him by any name he wanted to be called by was the least they could do. The name made him seem more human, somehow, less remote and removed from them. He struggled same as they did. And with such a human sounding name, it was more believable that he was a living breathing entity with heartache, pain, and challenges, just like anybody else. The name made him more of a man and less of an unobtainable, unapproachable figure. "I like it."

The Great Father...Drew smiled down at her. The warmth of it crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. Anna liked it a lot better when he smiled than when he wore the cool, stoic mask of indifference he hid behind. He shuffled his feet humbly, like a little boy basking in his mother's praise with an 'aw shucks' expression on his face. The name fit him. But, the suit had to go. He was a man, just not the type to wear a three-piece suit and tie.

Wiping her hands on the dishtowel tucked through the loop of jeans. She loosened the tie and pulled it free from the collar of his shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief as she eased the constrictive jacket down his arms and draped it over the back of a chair. Unbuttoning two buttons, she opened up the neck of his shirt, exposing his throat. He put up no fight as she rolled up the sleeves to his elbows and tugged the shirttail out of the waistband of his slacks. Gently, she finger combed his dark hair, arranging the strands into their usual messy tumble. The rich navy blue color of the shirt suited him and brought out the mahogany highlights in his eyes. "Better?"

Drew nodded, grateful for the feminine intervention on his behalf. Anna was a classically built woman, tall and willowy, with full curves and a smile that generated the warmth of a sun-drenched meadow. She was cool ice on a hot day, pale in both her cornflower blue eyes and her hair, the shade of a hunter's moon. And she understood him in a way only his brother had. She knew what he needed before he realized he needed it. He watched her walk to the sink and dip the tip of a clean dishtowel into the stream from the tap. Her hands were gentle and kind, lightly cupping his chin as she ran the damp dishtowel over his jaw. Washing away the worst of the stink of the cologne from his skin. "Much."

Anna stepped back and studied her handiwork. The uncomfortable shoes she could do nothing about. But, Drew, other than looking markedly relieved, was much improved. Achieving some level of comfort with both his clothing and his new name. There was still an air of nervousness about him. And she wondered if it had more to do with a certain female than the clothing and the cologne. He had the trepidation of a teenage boy about to embark on his first date. And maybe, in a way he was.

He'd had a wife and a family. But, that was so long ago. The rules had changed, as he was no doubt, about to discover. And she, the mother in her anyway, wanted to spit shine and polish him some more before she sent him out into the world alone. Keep him safe.

Dating was ugly business. And God help the hussy who broke his heart, because that bitch would have a pack of angry females to deal with. She straightened his collar one last time before she thrust the tray into his hands and sent him on his way. It wasn't flowers and this was not the junior high formal. "Go, before it gets cold. Our guest deserves hot food."

Drew dutifully took the tray. Anna had that gleam of realization in her eye. And he knew he was going to be a topic of female conversation for weeks. Not malicious gossip, just the normal feminine chatter of concern. He could take it. The men weren't really so different when they gathered around the campfire or in the sweat lodge. Anna didn't have a mean bone in her body. It was one of the reasons Toby insisted his wife stayed close to the compound. Oh, she was not without power. As they all well knew. But, she was hesitant to use it. That could get her killed. And the world would be so much a darker place without her in it.

He was anxious to greet his guest and eager to share his new name. At least now, he had a name to give her. A name that had both strength and vigor, that was timeless. He marched down the hall to her room. He didn't get much of a chance to talk to her yesterday. It'd been too awkward. Especially, considering she was naked under the blanket wrapped over her shoulders. But, that was his problem, not hers. Nudity didn't seem to affect her the same way it did him. And probably not, given her dual nature.

He'd purposely avoided the bedroom housing her for as long as possible. And that was his problem as well. Not hers. He was the one attracted to one of his own kin. He was certain, no matter how many generations removed their kinship was. Which, in a way meant they were no more related than two strangers passing one another on the street. But, that was pure rationalization on his part. She was his great, great, too many greats to count, niece. And she, most likely, did not likewise reciprocate nor welcome his unhealthy interest. Facts were facts, related or not related, kin or not kin, they weren't even the same species. And that was decidedly unnatural.

Chapter 53

Tala was showered and dressed in the clothing left by a flock of curious women. Appealing to their sisterhood and relying on a girlish nature she truly didn't possess, she'd tried to ask questions about her mysterious host. And the women, after a few raised brows and knowing looks, clammed up. She was intrigued about this man who was to be a savior to her people. Mr. No Name The Great Father. Oh, she knew who and what he was. And being the only living, breathing thing in the compound that she could scent. She had every right to have more than a few reservations about his good will.

There were a few details her father had left out. Primarily, that the Great Father was totally clueless about the spirit he now shared his body with. She could felt the Great White Wolf prowling through the Great Father's mind. The power of the spirit wolf was growing stronger and stronger. Soon it wouldn't matter if the Great Father accepted the gift or not. The wolf would spring free. And if he weren't prepared for it, the change could break the man and give the wolf complete control. It was better for all of them if that didn't happen and she could manage to coax the man and the wolf to become fully one as they were meant to be.

Her wolf had a pretty firm opinion of how to accomplish the task. Unfortunately, her wolf and she were not on the same page on the matter. If wolves could actually lust, hers had a particularly bad case of the hots for this male or rather the wolf inside of him. The male was not bad as far as males went. She certainly didn't find him lacking in appearance. Personality wise, the verdict was still out. Her wolf didn't give a damn about his personality. Her wolf was all about survival of the fittest and natural selection. A true proponent of Darwinism at its finest. That was her wolf.

Tala, on the other hand, wanted romance, flowers, candy, long moonlit walks, and to fall head over heels in love first. But, in her world people didn't always get what they wanted. The instinct to propagate the species was virtually impossible to override. And the wolves they carried inside of them mated for life. Too many of the pack ended up stuck with a mate that while their wolves were completely harmonious with one another, the human sides of them were not. She would not be one of those unlucky females. She would not hate the father of her children. Nor would she be bound to a husband who tolerated her only when the fever came and left the both of them with no other choice.

After so many days in her wolf's pelt, human clothing felt strange, tight and constricting against her skin. The women, although excessively chatty and overly friendly, were generous enough to lend her several styles to choose from. Tala wasn't picky when it came to what she wore. She hung the more expensive selections with the tags still on them in the closet and chose something comfortable instead.

Wolves and designer labels simply did not mix. And anything better than discount store wear was a waste of money. Sometimes, her wolf came whether she wanted her to or not. It was the same way with most of the pack. The spirit wolf's main goal other than to guard the barrier between the living and the dead was to protect its host. Calm was imperative to keeping the secret a secret. If she got too agitated or her wolf sensed some sort of threat, out she came. Tala was luckier than most. She was one of the rare few with a strong enough bloodline to control her shifts....most of the time.

The lightweight, stretchy yoga pants and long sleeved v-neck t-shirt were a good choice. The cotton breathed well and wasn't too confining. Her normal body temperature ran on the warm side compared to a human's. She'd bypassed shoes and socks in preference of walking barefoot. The carpet was thick and luxurious and a treat against the soles of her feet.

The shower had been heaven. And the bathroom well stocked with anything a girl could want. She truly did not care for heavily scented soaps and lotions. In her human form, her sense of smell was dulled enough without the reek of perfumes to confuse her. She hadn't dried her hair with the blow dryer. Instead, she'd combed it straight and wound it into a tight braid that ran down the center of her back to her waist.

She had to give her cousins credit. They knew how to live well. The bedroom was stylishly decorated in rich hues of brown and vibrant forest green. The king size bed dominated most of the main room. The bedding was expensive. The fabrics so posh she was almost ashamed that she'd ripped them off the bed and gotten them dirty. The Great Father had been so embarrassed by her nudity. Something she really hadn't felt self-conscious of, or quite possibly even been truly aware of the effect her body had on a male, till now.

A small sitting room, to the left of the doorway leading from the hall, was decorated similarly. The loveseat upholstered in a striped pattern of matching greens and browns. The throw pillows were pale beige and so soft to the touch, Tala couldn't help but rub her fingers across them. A flat screen TV and a bookshelf stocked with paperbacks took up the wall space. The lamps in both the bedroom and the sitting room bathed the spaces in a warm golden glow.

The bathroom was lavish. White marble tiled floors with veins of brown running through them. A tub deep enough and wide enough that she could easily float in the water. Double shower heads and an endless supply of hot water. Fluffy towels ready for use neatly folded over a heated towel rack. Scented candles. Fresh cut flowers artfully arranged in a crystal vase on the matching marble vanity. Even the toilet paper was the good stuff. And after days of driving to get here and being forced to use the cheap gas station variety, she ought to know.

Their worlds were so different. At home, the pack lived as a singular unit. They weren't numerous. And they were not without their resources. But, things had a tendency to get broken. Frequently. There were no crystal vases, no luxury bedding, no towels that hadn't been washed and dried or used at least a thousand times, and absolutely no privacy or quiet place to collect your thoughts. With the young to keep in line, and all those mouths to feed, pack mates to clean up after, laundry to wash, dishes to put away, and floors to sweep. In general everything that had to be done to keep the house in some form of working order. There wasn't time to think even if you did find a place to do it.

Most of the clothes she wore had been handed down from someone else. It was rare to wear anything new. Things were used until they were too worn out to be passed on to someone else. Nobody did without. Everyone had equally. But, nothing in the pack technically belonged to anybody. Everybody owned everything. Mealtimes were pure chaos. Showers were quick because there was always somebody waiting in line. Bedtimes for the young were a battle only the strong survived and the truly brave attempted. But, for all the insanity of pack life, Tala wouldn't trade any of this luxury, quiet, or privacy for it.

Now, if she could just convince the Great Father to her way of thinking. She'd come here to out run a destiny she didn't want. But, she'd also she'd volunteered to make the trip out of concern for her father. Her father was not a young man. He was far from decrepit. But, she feared what would happen if she hadn't gone in his place. A new alpha had risen up in the ranks. He was strong, ruthless, and far too eager to steal her father's position as Pack Master. And not only was Grant all of these things. But, he also had his sights set on her.

She'd managed thus far to hold him off. The only reason that he hadn't already challenged her father for Pack Master was out of fear she'd reject him if he did. And a willing mate was far easier to bed than an unwilling one. Once he finally did what was inevitable if she failed to secure a place here and he battled her father for the title sooner rather than later. She'd be out of options. Pack law ensured the new Pack Master first choice of mates. And she would have no choice but to accept him as hers.

A light rap on the door drew Tala out of her grim thoughts. One day, whether she succeeded or failed, Grant would challenge her father. He was simply biding his time till the day her father was too weak to win the fight. Success would buy her valuable time. Her father was second to the Great White Wolf in the hierarchy of pack command. Unless he allowed the fight, it would not happen. With the Great White Wolf's current host unaware that he shared a body with him, the pack was vulnerable and her father's life in great danger.

A frown would not win the Great Father over. And would only cause more questions. The answers to which he wasn't ready to hear. Tala pasted a smile on her face and padded across the thick carpet to answer the door. The smell of food and the sight of heaping plates piled high brought a real smile to her face even if it was only temporarily. She snatched the mug of coffee from the tray and waved him inside. Sipping eagerly at the contents, she sighed in utter contentment. "That is so good," she moaned in pleasure.

The Great Father nodded in greeting and set the tray down on the coffee table in the sitting room. "Help yourself." He chose a bent wood rocker, rather than sitting next to her on the tiny loveseat. Modern notion dictated that it was completely acceptable for him to be in her private rooms. But, his sense of propriety thought otherwise. And he was uncomfortable with her and the big, welcoming bed less than fifteen feet away.

"It looks great," Tala said. Plopping down unceremoniously on the couch, she grabbed a fork and dug in. The pack operated on a first come first served rule when it came to food. And she was used to forgoing manners in preference of an actual hot meal that didn't consist of shrapnel left behind from those quicker with the knife and spoon than she. Midway through the stack of pancakes, half of the bacon, all of the omelet, and more than a few patties of sausage, she realized he hadn't sampled a bite. Stuffed to contentment, she slowed to catch him watching her in rapt fascination. Human women didn't eat this much. But, she wasn't human. And her elevated metabolism ensured that she stayed trim and fit. Calories weren't something she'd ever have to worry about. "Aren't you going to have some?"

"I regret that I cannot," Drew answered. He knew from the television that women were constantly on a diet of some sort. Tala had all but cleared the three plates of food he'd set in front of her. He had not eaten in almost two hundred years. But, he couldn't recall ever eating that much food at once. She was so tiny. Daintily gnawing on a slice of bacon. And he had to wonder where she put all that food.

"Don't tell me. You're on a diet," Tala scoffed.

"In a way, yes." His mind played hell with him. The pancakes, stiff and cold, slick with congealed butter and syrup, looked divine. He was hungry. Not for his usual faire. But, he longed for a bite of something.

"Ah." It didn't dawn on her till now that if he didn't know about the wolf. He probably didn't know his diet wasn't nearly as restricted as he thought. His wolf gave him a certain luxury his vampire side did not. He could eat. And maybe, if she could coax a bite in him, he'd actually start to accept what he was. She speared a slice of pancake and considered the idea.