Dawn's Promise

Candace frowned. Marcus was out there all alone now. It was the first time the three of them had been separated since their escape with miles instead of stone walls coming between them. "Maybe he doesn't have anywhere else to go?" She couldn't leave him alone, homeless, and out on the streets. Heartbroken by the thought of him sheltering in her home because he had no one else to turn to, she jumped up off the bed. "C'mon, lets go get him. Bring him home."

Will looked at Dane with a beseeching expression splayed across his face. He didn't want her anywhere near that guy. But, he couldn't stop her from going without pushing her into a corner and forcing her chose between the two of them. "Candy," he said, his voice low.

"Don't call me that," Candace grumbled, searching under the bed for her shoes. "Well, aren't we going? I just can't leave Marcus all alone like this." Didn't Will understand that Marcus was her friend, perhaps her best friend? They had gone through so much together, watching out for each other's backs. Marcus just needed a little TLC right now. And a reminder that even though she didn't share the depth of his feelings, she did care for him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Dane interjected. He was not about to let Candace run off to the city unescorted. This woman was so oblivious to the danger lurking around every corner. She thought with her heart and not her head. And to him, it was a surprise she hadn't gotten killed because of it.

"But, he's all alone," Candace pled. How could Dane and Will be so uncaring and so hardened to the man that had saved her life on more than one occasion? Marcus coaxed the first dribble of human blood down her throat. Marcus pulled her back from the edge time and time again when she would have given up. He held her hope and her focus on Chance to keep her going through those horrible, terrifying days of darkness and despair. And they wanted her to turn her back on him now, when he needed her the most? Not happening.

"Maybe, this is what he needs. Some space. Time to think things through," Dane said gently. "Give him a couple of days and if he doesn't return, we'll go find him." His first instinct was to order her to comply. Demand that Will keep his woman in check. But, as his sweet wife pointed out on several occasions, he could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He gave Candace a reassuring smile and casually moved between the bed, where she sat staring up at him, not buying the forced curve of his mouth, and the door.

Candace dropped to the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. Judging by the determined looks on Will and Dane's faces, she wasn't going out on any rescue mission any time soon. She lowered her eyes to her sneakers. Afraid the glint of resolve in her expression would give her away. They didn't say that she couldn't call him. Her home phone was still connected. Maybe, if she left a message, Marcus would hear it, realize he had friends that were worried about him, and come back on his own. "I still don't think it's right," she grumbled softly, flopping back on the bed, feigning defeat.





























Chapter 29

Toby slid his arm out from under Anna's head and tucked the covers under her chin. Time passed so quickly when he was having fun. He was quiet, relying on stealth to slip into her house and beneath the covers while she slept, completely vulnerable and unguarded, oblivious to the fact that he was even there beside her. She mumbled his name a couple of times in her sleep and nuzzled in the crook of his arm, dreaming. He enjoyed lying next to her, listening in on her dreams and running his fingers along the filmy sleekness of her nightgown. But, duty was slave to everyone and he had to go. Gently, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "Dream of me," into her ear.

The annoying buzz of the alarm clock jolted Anna awake. She was having the most wonderful dreams. She spent the night dreaming that Toby was in her bed beside her, whispering sweet words, and caressing her skin lightly with his fingertips. Blearily, she stumbled to the window and frowned at the thick blanket of fresh white snow that had fallen overnight. The commute to work was going to be a bitch this morning. Tromping through the snow, shivering her ass off, and putting up with people every bit as irritable and nasty as she'd probably be, exhausted by another winter that never seemed to end.

Dawn was just beginning to peek its pale golden head over the edge of the horizon. Pressing her nose to the glass, she scanned the neighborhood. Toby was right. She never saw the trackers assigned to her. Not as much as a footprint in the pristine blanket of snow covering the sidewalk. But, she had faith in their ability to keep her safe and she knew they were there, somewhere, watching over her.

The tracker slunk back into the scanty shadows left behind as the morning light flooded the neighborhood. Bryce thought he'd been spotted. "Damn," he cursed. Anna stared out the window, seemingly looking right at him. The woman was lovely, tall and willowy with long tangles of pale blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. The long sleeved sheer nightgown in a gossamer shade of lavender, almost white in the dim light, clung to her curves. Too bad she was already taken. Bryce snickered. Toby would probably poke his eyes out for looking at her and thinking the thoughts, errant and forbidden, that swirled in his mind. So what? He was a red blooded male and the view was one of the highlights of this boring assed assignment.

*******

"Geez mom, don't you ever knock!" Chance sputtered, his cheeks turning bright red as his mom barged into his room unannounced and made herself at home on the edge of his bed. With a huff, he turned his back to her and shimmied into his athletic support and gray fleece sweats pulling them up over his hips in a hurried motion.

"Get over it boy," Candace snickered, brushing off her son's embarrassment at being seen in the buff with a nonchalant wave of her fingers. "I used to change your diapers." Hopping off the bed, she busied herself by straightening the covers while Chance pulled on a t-shirt and rummaged through the dresser for a pair of tube socks.

"I've grown a lot since then," Chance grumbled, flopping down on the sofa. He unfolded a sock and tugged it over his toes. Grateful he couldn't remember his mom ever wiping his butt and changing his diapers.

"Ha! That's what YOU think," Candace replied. Jokingly, she waggled her little finger at him and snorted, stifling her laughter at his frown.

"Mom!" Chance grabbed a throw pillow off the sofa and launched it at her head. "It's called shrinkage," he retorted in defense of his Johnson.

Candace reached out and caught the pillow by its frilly tassels and tossed it back at Chance. "Ok, whatever," she teased. She'd come to talk to him about Will. But, just hadn't quite figured out how to bridge the subject of his father without Chance completely tuning out on the conversation. "You want some breakfast?"

"Nah, I've gotta hit the gym." He didn't mention that he was meeting John Mark there for a sparring match. He saw no need to get the argument with his mom this early in the morning. She was in a good mood. He intended to keep her that way.

Candace grimaced, swallowing back the words of her argument. Chance seemed to be settling in, getting used to the idea of sticking around for a while. She saw no point in pushing her luck with him. Yet. "I've seen John Mark in action before. You be careful, ok?" she said, hugging Chance lightly around the shoulders.

"You'd better worry about him, not me." Chance grinned, returning her hug. He slid his feet into his running shoes and double tied the laces. "You commin'?" he asked holding the door for her.

"I'm going to finish straightening up this pigsty first," Candace answered, wrinkling her nose at the heap of dirty clothes kicked into the corner. "I'll catch up with you later." Chance headed for the gym, leaving the door to his room standing wide open. Candace gathered up the towels dampened from Chance's shower and piled them next to his dirty clothes. Gingerly, terrified that Will was going to pop in at any moment and catch her red handed, she pulled the door closed and turned the lock. She had no reason to feel guilty. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Just making a simple phone call.

Candace snatched Chance's cell phone off the nightstand and flipped open the cover. Her fingers shook nervously, fumbling with the phone. Determined to at least try to reach Marcus, she hit speed dial. Her landline rang its usual four times before the answering machine picked up and she heard her voice on the other end. After the beep, she took a breath and spoke. "Marcus, I know you're there, please pick up."

She waited for a second, when he didn't answer she continued. "I'm sorry I hurt you. You know I'd never do it on purpose. Marcus, I'm worried about you. Please, at least talk to me." The phone beeped, cutting her off. She redialed the number, counted the rings, and waited for the machine to pick up. Annoyed by the sound of her own voice on the recording, she continued her message. "Marcus, please come back," Candace begged. "Please, don't shut me out." Restraining herself from crushing her son's phone in her fist, she snapped the cover shut and shoved the phone into her back pocket, just in case.

Stalling for time, in case Marcus called back, she cleaned Chance's bedroom, the adjoining bathroom, and the tiny sitting room, till the furniture gleamed in the dim light, the tiles glistened pristine white, and every inch of chrome sparkled blindingly. The phone sat silently on the nightstand, mocking her. Hurt that he at least had the courtesy to return her call, she gathered up Chance's dirty clothes in her arms and flicked off the lights, gently closing the door behind her. At least, she'd tried. What Marcus did with her failed attempt was up to him.

Marcus replayed Candace's message over and over. The sound of her voice sliced through him, pouring salt in an open and festering wound. She sounded so desperate and worried. A part of him wanted her to hurt like she'd hurt him. But, the bigger part just wanted to see her again, to be close to her, even if friendship was all she had to offer. "Don't be such a candy ass. Buck up my man," he grumbled, hitting the delete button before he could play the recording again.

He riffled through Chance's closet. Selecting a pair of workout pants and a faded brown tee shirt. They t-shirt would be loose on him and the pants probably a little too long. But, they'd do. Marcus sifted randomly through Chance's room. Checking under the mattress, feeling under the dresser, and sifting through books, shoeboxes, and drawers. What kid didn't have a stash hidden somewhere? He closed his fingers around the wad of bills stuffed in the toe of a battered baseball cleat. "Bingo."

He counted the money. A few hundred bucks should be plenty to get him far enough away to slip underneath the Sons' radar. First, he had to rid himself of the tracking device. There had to be something in the garage he could use to cut through the metal band securing the thing to his ankle. He had to throw them off his tracks. Beat them at their own game. He didn't want to be found. And he had a plan of how to do exactly that.

******

Chance's eyes narrowed, focusing on Will as he entered the gym. "Where's John Mark?" The gym was empty except for his father. Chance dropped his bag on the hardwood floor. Obviously, he'd been set up and John Mark wasn't going to show. He smirked practically snarling at dear old dad. After the scene he'd witnessed between his mother and Will in the hall last night, he'd happily make the guy bleed. "I need to warm up first."

Will stood ready at the mat, dressed in loose cotton pants and a form fitting black muscle shirt. "No problem." He was hoping to use this time to talk to Chance. Get to know his son better. Will adjusted the universal press, setting it for his size. He selected what he thought was an acceptable weight for a workout. He wanted to appear more human, for Chance's benefit, thinking it would help them to bond if Chance thought they were on a more even ground. Will really didn't need to work on his build. His kind was gifted with natural strength and endurance. The tricky part was learning to master the blessings from the Goddess.

Chance hopped on the treadmill, starting out at an easy pace and maintaining the steady jog throughout his warm up. He wanted to save his strength for the pain he was planning to inflict on Will. He stared into the mirror that ran the length of the gym's far wall watching Will perform a series of reps. The impossible stack of weights clanked together with a loud bang. Chance shook his head; the guy's face was placid, showing no strain as he worked through the routine.

Even though Will bench-pressed enough weight to bow the thick, iron bar at the ends, there wasn't a bead of moisture on his brow. Chance had no doubt Will was acting on his own behalf, trying to appear weak and human in an attempt to win him over. The guy was probably capable of lifting so much more than the impressive stacks of weights heaped on the ends of the bar. Chance slowed the treadmill to a stop and stepped off the belt. It was time for the charade to end and for his father and him to come to an understanding.

******

"Damn it!" Marcus whaled in frustration. His search of the garage left him empty handed. No power tools. No bolt cutters. Nothing he could use to cut himself free from the thick titanium band encircling his ankle. The screwdriver clutched in his fist was worthless. He threw the floral patterned plastic toolbox with its ridiculous assortment of titty-pink, handled tools across the room in a fit of rage. Growling in frustration, he sent the screwdriver sailing across the garage to land in a clatter on the concrete floor with the other tools.

What in the hell did the woman use to repair things around here? Infuriated by the thought that she might have a male friend more than willing to pop by and take care of any screwing that needed to be done, he slammed the garage door and stomped back into the house. He rummaged through closets and cabinets, searching for something useful. He wanted the device intact, sending a clear signal, but in the opposite direction he planned on going once he finally got the fucking thing off his ankle.

He slathered his ankle down with cooking oil. Maybe, he could slide the band over his foot. He cursed and sputtered as pushed against the band, it simply wouldn't slide free of his heel. He was caught like a fox with its paw in a trap. If he wanted free, he'd have to do what the animal would do. Chew his foot off. But, did he have the guts? Could he endure the pain? He pulled a wicked looking butcher knife from the wooden block sitting on the countertop, contemplating as he turned it over and over in his hand.

***********

Neil stared over the desk at Dane. "I don't know why Marcus left," he said defensively. He was telling the truth. He didn't know why Marcus would leave such a cozy set up as he had here. If Neil had to guess, he'd bet Marcus's sudden departure had something to do with Candace.

Neil had been contemplating asking to join in. Get his piece of the action. But, with Marcus taking off inexplicably, he wondered if they'd ever trust any of them. "I wish I could help you out. But, I don't know anything." He shrugged.

"That's ok." Dane replied rubbing his temples. He believed Neil. Neil and Marcus, although they were traveling companions, they weren't close. He wondered how long the kid would stick around. Neil was almost ready. Soon, Dane would offer him the choice to go free or remain here and find something useful to do with his long life. "Thanks for coming in," he dismissed Neil with a wave of his hand.

"Hey, no problem." Neil grinned. "Anything I can do to help."

Dane watched Neil leave the room. John Mark had tested him in the gym. While able to defend himself, the kid was no warrior. He was a mediocre tracker, able to follow a trail good enough to keep himself fed. He could be trusted around humans. In fact, humans trusted him too much. There was an aura about him. People liked Neil. He possessed a natural charisma and knew exactly what people wanted to hear, especially the ladies. Dane didn't care for Neil and many of the brothers shared the same opinion. The guy set his bullshit meter on high alert.

"Hey, remember me?" Chris said gently, entering the study. Her man was hard at work. Staring intently at the computer screen and drumming his fingers on the desk lost in deep contemplation.

"Would that be my wife?" Dane teased, looking up from the computer screen. He chuckled as she spun his chair and climbed up into his lap. He groaned, suddenly hard as hell by the subtle brush of her warm core across his groin. "Hmm. Are we going to christen another room?" he asked, looping his fingers through her belt loops.

"Maybe." Chris bent low kissing him with a long needy kiss. "Possibly." She slid her sweatshirt over her head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. She arched her back as he ran his fingers along the lacy edge of her bra and reached around to unfasten the clasp. Moaning at the hot contact of his tongue across her nipple, she changed her answer. "Definitely."

*********

Candace drummed her fingers impatiently on the dryer waiting for Chance's clothes to finish drying. She felt the slim black square in her back pocket. Marcus hadn't returned her call. She resisted the urge to hit redial and try to reach him again. Maybe, he wasn't there. But, where else would he go? She felt so guilty. Responsible.

Sneaking a peek over her shoulder, making sure she was alone. She yanked the phone out of her pocket. She had to try. She couldn't let it end between them. A friend was something of value, worth fighting for. She hit redial waiting as she listened to the phone ring. She snapped the phone shut as the answering machine picked up. She was going to go find him and try to convince him to come home. No matter what Will and Dane had to say about it.

She hit redial and waited, hoping Marcus would come to his senses and answer the phone. She frowned as the answering machine picked up. She took a deep breath. "Marcus, please pick up. I need to talk to you." She waited. No answer. "Please wait for me. I'm coming to get you. I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise."

The sound of the phone ringing and Candace's voice playing through the speakers of the answering machine distracted Marcus from his intentions. He listened to the heart wrenching tone in her voice and regretted he'd been the one to cause her such desperation and worry. She was coming to the city to get him. He had no doubt she wouldn't be coming alone. "Shit." He had to hurry. He slid the bracelet down his ankle as far as it would go. Carefully calculating how much of his flesh he would have to carve away to be rid of the device. The wound would heal. His body would repair the damage. But, it would hurt like hell. He took a deep breath, wincing at the pain as the sharp edge sliced into his skin.

His blood rolled from the wound, pooling in a puddle of red in sharp contrast against the white linoleum tile on the dining room floor. Tears formed in his eyes and he bit back a howl of agony as he inched the bracelet over the raw, bleeding wound. Just a little more and he'd be free. Marcus held his breath and gathered what courage he had left, cutting away more of his flesh before his body began the task of repairing the damage. Creating a fresh symphony of pain. Cursing and panting, he slid the band over his butchered foot, dropping it to the floor with a metallic clang.