Dawn's Path: Completed Work

"Of course." Keene motioned for his brothers to edge back and give Carter some space. In his fit of agitation Keene had tasted Carter's barely restrained power. The man could have killed them all with a flick of his wrist and not even broken a sweat doing so. Carter was a man of interest. One the brothers would have to monitor closely. But, Angel was absolutely correct in her assumption. He was the right man for the job. Otherwise they wouldn't be talking right now. The brothers and him along with them would be dead. "We'll regroup before dawn."

Carter gave up on trying to free himself from the device locked around his ankle. Pinning the brothers in a hard stare that promised death he raised his brows and nodded. "Sure." He hoped like hell in agreeing he hadn't signed all of their death warrants. O'Sullivan wanted him. But, he didn't want him dead. The tracker around his ankle might just come in handy after all. If nothing else it would lead the brothers to Eric and they might be able to manage what he had not in all his centuries of running, kill the son of a bitch.

The brothers disbanded, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. Leaving him alone in the alley. He knew exactly where to find Eric and the rogues. And steeling his resolve, he set out to do so.

Chapter 61

Lance lounged on Angel's bed, listening to her endless tirade about how unfair it was that she couldn't go back into the city and chase after the damned rogues. He had a new respect and fondness for makeup sex. Not, necessarily for the argument that had led to it. But, the sex was amazing. The aftermath though, he'd had about ten minutes to bask in the afterglow before she'd gone off, smelling of the musk of sex, the reek of rogue, and the stink of the city, to find Dane. She'd left eager to share her ideas returned with the fury of an unleashed storm. He was grateful that the rogue had saved her ass. No doubt about that. But, he was even more thankful that Dane's word was final and with a stern 'no' he'd forced her to keep out of it.

White clouds of steam billowed out of the open bathroom door from the heat of her shower. He guessed the steam was from her shower. She was so mad that it could have been rolling out of her ears instead. He um'd and ah'd at the appropriate times. Not really listening to Angel's ranting. She'd get over it, eventually. His attention was fixed on the journal he'd found stashed away in her bag. He hadn't meant to snoop. But, the corner of the journal peeked out of the bag she'd tossed on the floor and he'd been curious. He'd taken the journal out of the bag and tucked it back inside about a hundred times, knowing he shouldn't and failing to resist. He'd given in and wished he hadn't. If he hadn't had enough reasons to wish Roark dead before, he sure as hell did now.

The journal was an account of her human life with Roark. The contents sickened him. Hastily scribbled words of torment and dark, heated rage written by trembling fingers filled the pages. She hated Roark. And more than that, she hated that part of herself that fed on the misery he gave. Pain was her safe harbor. Her escape. And what she thought, or he'd trained her to believe, that she deserved. The things she wrote about in paragraphs of disjointed sentences and desperate random thoughts were horrifying. Roark hadn't been content with torturing her physically. He'd attacked her at the basest level and tried to destroy her very soul.

Unable to read one more word, he flipped to the final entry. Written in her blood and with penmanship that would have done any grammar school teacher proud. The handwriting was neat and spoke of victory. Summing it all up in two words. The end. She didn't guess at what direction her life was headed. Because in those two words written so neatly, she already knew. Going back had been not as much for the sake of going back. But, she'd done it to move forward. She'd put herself through the macabre visit to the past for him.

Roark would never come between them again. It was over and done. And his Angel was finally free to soar. The sound of the shower doors sliding open interrupted his thoughts. He shoved the journal back into place and zipped her duffel bag. There was nothing he could do to deserve a woman of this caliber. He simply wasn't worthy. But, he was willing to try to be everything she needed, everything she wanted, and would ever want. Lance walked into the bathroom and knelt at her feet. Reverently, he slid the towel from her hands, drying her body with careful strokes from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

"What's this about?" Angel asked. She tried to make fun and keep things light. The truth was she'd been hiding in the shower, letting the hot water scald her skin red out of shame for her behavior. Not much of what she'd said, about Dane or about the brotherhood, had been complementary. Slipping into old habits had come as easily to her as breathing. And she'd insulted Lance with her off hand and totally out of line comments about the brothers. She'd just been so mad when Dane refused to let her go back into the city to hunt down Carter. And her fury knew no limits and in her anger, her mouth, no filter. She hadn't meant the things she'd said. She'd just been too busy spouting off bullshit to realize the impact of her words on Lance.

If he was offended, it certainly didn't show. Gloriously naked and kneeling at her feet, he took the towel from her hands and began working the soft terry cloth fabric over her body. And the gentle circular motions created havoc along her nerve endings. He hadn't even gotten to drying off the good parts yet and she was already squirming, curling her toes, and biting her lip in anticipation. The heat radiating off of Lance's hands and the casual strokes of his fingers across her naked skin sparked her arousal to a fevered pitch she could hardly contain.

"I just wanted you to know how much I love you," Lance answered. Pleased by her reaction to his touch, he stood and lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. He was hard and wanted nothing more than to bury his cock into the softness of her core. No seduction, no matter how well planned, had ever been better or more thorough. Stretching her out on the covers, he slid his hands in between her thighs. Gently parting them and taking his time to run his fingers along the sensitive flesh, he worked his way up to the slick heat of her. Angel's anger had been forgotten and replaced by the heated flare of desire. But, he was just getting started. And no matter how hard she bucked her hips against his fingers as they worked in and out of her, he was going to take his time and have a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

Working her hard, his fingers reaching all the right places, exploring them with slow deliberate strokes, her walls gripping him with tight spasms, he brought her close to the edge and refused to let her tumble over. Ok, so maybe he was a little selfish because he was enjoying this every bit as much. Her sighs washed over his skin with the lightness of feathers. Her pleas were sweet as spun sugar on the tip of his tongue. And the evidence of her arousal on his fingertips was smooth, sleek, and decadent as rich silk. "You like what I'm doing to you," he growled in masculine approval. "You love me. Admit it."

Angel could hardly form words. Lance's fingers continued their gentle torture. Working her to a frenzy of passion, he teased and seduced leaving her a writhing mass of burning flesh. She was so close, so close and wanted nothing more than to find the release he promised and refused to give. He wanted confession and she was more than willing to bare her soul to him. "I do," she gasped. "I love you."

Her walls gripped his fingers, quivering tightly on the beginning of an orgasm. He could give it to her. Seeing her so wild and craven, writhing without fear or the desperate need for pain to take her to the edge was exactly what he needed. His Angel didn't crave pain nearly as much as she believed. She craved safety, security, and love. And all of those things were his to give. Dipping his head, he claimed a pert nipple between his teeth, teasing the flesh with the tip of his tongue.

His cock twitched at the sound of her throaty moan of pleasure. Pressure built in his groin, urging him to take what was his, to possess and to claim every last inch of her through the joining of their bodies. In so many ways, the seduction, the foreplay and the complete mastery of her were so much better than sex. Feeling her writhe in anticipation, exhale in sighs fueled by lust, and her skin ripple beneath his touch made the wait worth bearing. Her body was ready and needed what only he could give. "Say you want to be with me. Say you want me as much as I want you."

"Yes," Angel hissed as Lance's fingers danced over a particularly sensitive spot deep within her and his thumb traced circles over her clit. "I do." His play was killing her in the most wonderful of ways. She was eager to please. Willing to say anything to convince him of the truth of her feelings. She'd come back. She'd promised never to run again. And here on her back, unbound and free, wrapped in his arms, safer than she'd ever been in her life, she put herself, her life, and her heart in his hands. "I promise, Lance. I want to be with you."

Lance shifted his weight. Sliding his free arm under her head and cradling her body to his chest, he lifted his chin and exposed his neck. Supporting the back of her head, wanting and needing to make this moment real, he let her make the decision. Her body hummed with unresolved desire. And as much as he wanted to fulfill her need, he wanted this more. His blood coursing through her body and hers, flowing through his, their bodies and their souls joined in an irrevocable fusion of their fates. "Forever, Angel."

"Forever." Angel panted the word against the soft skin of Lance's neck. Forever used to be a temporary word, a word without true meaning or purpose. It wasn't so. She was far from immortal. Nobody could refute the fact that someday death would come. But, her world now compared to human terms, which were divided into limited days, weeks, months, and decades, forever had a certain ring of eternity to it. His fingers stroked and probed, applying just the right amount of pressure. She wasn't driven senseless by the caresses, just sensible. In a life of limitless time, she had this one chance at love. And she could not imagine anything beyond him, beyond the vows and the insanity of their world worth living for.

Biting down as the orgasm he gave her claimed her body, she released his essence. His blood flowed into her mouth as he drove into her filling her body with his length and her soul with his very life force. Urging him to join her in the sweet spot that he'd sent her to, she tilted her head and gasped as he pierced her with his fangs, drinking from her, bonding them as one.

Shuddering with the force of completion, she came for him and he, for her. Filled with contentment and the life they now shared, Angel cuddled against Lance. Clinging to him to keep herself anchored in reality, she sensed his emotions through their link. Love, desperate, fulfilling love, was what he felt for her and likewise, she for him. A thought rode in on the heels of her happiness, and it filled her not with dread or fear as before but with eager joy. They were married in a way. Not on paper as was human custom. But by the sharing of bodies and blood, bonded by both.

Lance chuckled and nuzzled the shell of Angel's ear. As hard as Angel appeared to be on the outside, she was soft and every bit a woman. Every bride needed her special day. And there was nothing wrong with human customs to commemorate the bond. The thought of claiming her for his wife made him hard. Aching with the need to be inside of her once again. He rubbed his pulsating erection against the softness of her thigh and groaned with desire. "Marry me."

The heat of Angel's body and the gentle friction of skin sliding against skin drove him to the point of insanity. He needed her now. Easing onto his back, his erection sticking straight up in the air, in a proud salute, he moaned as she straddled his hips and eased down on him.

"I want you to know that I intend to take my wifely duties very seriously," Angel said. She had never given him the impression that she was a romantic hearts and flowers kind of girl. And even if he hadn't asked, hadn't wanted to make it official to the world, she was touched that he did. There was no ring, just the slapping of their flesh against flesh in promise.

Lance pursed his lips. He almost came when Angel gave his nipple a hard tweak with her sharp little fingernails. She knew how to drive him insane. And if this were simply practice for what lie ahead for them, he couldn't imagine how good it would be when they reached perfection. Gripping her hips and massaging the soft flesh of her butt, he guided her up and down his shaft, faster and faster until they both were lost to passion and to love.

Angel dozed contentedly in Lance's arms. Her wounded pride and the argument with Dane and Keene were officially forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the man sleeping contentedly beside her. She didn't know the first thing about weddings or ceremonies. And the formalities really didn't matter. He wanted a wedding almost as much, if not more than she did. He needed his day on the bluffs. She'd seen it in him when he stood at the altar next to Bryce. For him and for love, she could endure anything, including Janine.

The only thing she wanted to do was dream about Lance and their future together. She'd been through the worst and fate owed her the best. And she had it in every way that counted. In the man, in a family of misfits and fangs, and in a world that was more filled with joy than she'd ever imagined.

Chapter 62

Drew looked over Tala's shoulder as she reviewed the blueprints for her family's new home. With him standing this close and his breath skating down the back of her neck. It was a little hard to concentrate on the plans. A lot of thought had gone into the design. The place would be big enough for future generations to come. And if they did out grow the original home there was plenty of space to expand. "I like it," she said. Nodding in approval she shifted her focus from the paperwork to meet his eyes. "How long will it take to build?"

Anna liked this woman. Not just because Tala liked the plans. But, because Anna had the sense that this spitfire female was exactly what Drew needed in his life. Tala was half his size and yet, she was not the type to back down. Vampires, especially the old ones, and the males in particular, sometimes got a little too full of themselves. And Tala was exactly the kind of woman to put Drew in his place.

"Well, spring is almost here. And if the weather cooperates, I'm hoping to make arrangements to bring in equipment to start on the foundation this week. We've got friends on the town council, so that takes care of pushing through any permits we'll need to build. We're keeping everything local and within our circle of contacts for privacy's sake. The materials are already on order and should be here sometime tomorrow. Construction is slow this time of year, so that's not a problem. The contractor is someone the brothers have worked with for years and he and his crew understand the importance of discretion. Appliances, furnishings, and the like have already been purchased and are ready to be delivered at any time." Anna shrugged and did some mental calculating. "I'd guess in month, give or take a few days, you should be ready to move in."

Anna babbled on apologetically about how the house would be finished on the inside. But, the grounds would be nothing more than a muddy mess for months till it got warm enough to plant grass and the gardens. Tala could care less about the aesthetics of the place. She'd spent her entire life surrounded by spindly scrub brush, cactus, and sun baked earth. The desert was a beautiful place and at night it came to life in a symphony of celebration. It didn't have the lush green of growing things nor trees tall enough to tickle the underbelly of the sky. But, the barrenness of the landscape had been the only home she'd known and she'd miss it.

Not all of the pack was on board with the plan. And that Anna was more concerned with the gardens than the resistance Tala might incur spoke volumes about how different their worlds were. Grant fueled the spark of rebellion with his talk of tradition. Time was growing short. And discontent rumbled on the distant horizon. The sooner she got the pack here. The safer her father would be. A month would keep the pack busy and focused on the move. It was just long enough for them to accept they were leaving. And short enough that Grant wouldn't be able to sew more seeds of adversity.

The Great Father nodded to Anna in approval. He wanted the best of everything possible for Tala and her family. Anna had done a fine job from what he could tell in the planning for the needs of her...his pack. He knew little about modern housing beyond what he saw in passing. As long as he had the basic necessities, he was content about anywhere. And a vampire needed little in the way of creature comforts, basically just a pair of fangs and the clothes on his back. Any old place would do when it came time to shelter from the sun. "Well done."

Anna beamed at Drew's praise. His nod of approval spurred her intent to get the project done on time and under budget. She'd spent a pretty penny of the brotherhood's vast fortune. And Drew hadn't batted an eye at the grand total. Anna got the sense if she'd quoted him three times the amount, it wouldn't have mattered. Money was secondary to seeing Tala happy. Dane reviewed the books with a little more scrutiny. But, even he'd questioned very little about her plan.

"My family and I can't thank you enough for all you've done," Tala said. She'd been raised in the tradition of the wolf. And when one was in the presence of a powerful alpha like Drew, one behaved as such. She bowed deeply, her voice layered with respect as she spoke. "We are in your debt."

"No, you are not," Drew gently corrected. He could not stop his fingers from hooking around her thick braid and sliding into place over her shoulder. He lifted her chin with a fingertip and forced her to meet his eyes. "Family owes no debt." Reminding himself that indeed Tala was family even if it were removed by so many generations that it no longer mattered was a bit difficult. Tala looked feminine, more so that he'd ever seen her. And that was saying something since he'd caught her completely naked twice.

He'd never celebrated Christmas. But, wrapping gifts suddenly made sense to him. It was just as much about the pretty paper and bows as it was about the present inside. Secretly, he thanked Janine for her choice of clothing for Tala. The deep, plunging line of the purple V-necked blouse and low-riding indigo jeans gave just a hint of the feminine curves beneath without revealing too much. Tala wore her hair tightly secured in her usual braid showing the graceful arc of her long neck. Serviceable low-heeled leather boots and a matching belt complete with the blade he insisted she carry completed the outfit.

The three-inch dagger was more for his benefit than hers. Her wolf could handle herself just fine. But, he'd rather avoid another incident. And while the razor sharp edge might kill, if handled correctly. It was more for defense. Embossed with his personal emblem on the hilt, anyone who thought to make a quick snack out of her would think twice. He cleared his throat and forced his eyes from the gentle rise of her breasts. "Tala, we should leave Anna to her work. Would you accompany me to the site?"