Dawn's Second Chance

Sam furiously slapped Marcus's hand away and remained sitting on the ground. "You don't see yourself the way I see you. I think you're sensitive and intelligent." She looked up at him, dismayed with his frown of confusion. "And sexy as hell."

Marcus couldn't stand towering over her, staring down at her. He knelt to look into her eyes. "Sexy? You think I'm sexy?" he asked in disbelief. "Why would you think that?"

Sam rolled her eyes. He was really too much. "Why wouldn't I? Look at yourself. You're built." She ran a hand over his t-shirt pinching his hard pecs. "You've got the most amazing eyes. Almost as if you can see right through me, through all my bullshit, into the real me." She scooted closer, hoping he'd realize she was telling the truth. "You are attractive, Marcus. You make me laugh. You make me feel things nobody else ever has. And you don't treat me like one of the guys. You see me, as I am. To you, I'm not some female in need of protecting. When we were captured. You let me protect you. You trusted me to cover your back." She inched her hand lower and with a gentle shove she pushed him onto the ground.

Marcus lost his balance, falling on his back against the soft earth. He struggled to right himself as she crawled along his body. His groin jerked in anticipation, longing to feel her pressed against him. "Yeah, and I compromised the mission. I almost got us killed. I don't have a cent to my name. I'm not very good in a fight. And I can barely chase down my own dinner. I have nothing to offer you." He groaned as Sam stretched out over the top of him, shifting her weight to settle on his erection. "I was an accident. I never should have been given this life."

"An accident? That's what you call yourself? An accident? What happened to you was bad. But, you didn't let it stop you did you? You're better than you know. Act like it. Believe it. Believe me. You had it so much harder than the rest of us. We knew what we were getting into. You didn't. You could have turned rogue. Somehow you managed to find the strength to resist. And I know how hard it is to deny the hunter inside of you. You saved Candace's life. You saved my life. You led the brothers to Roark. You earned the title of Warrior. And still you don't think you're good enough. Unbelievable.

"That's not what I want. I can take care of myself. I don't need a man to take care of me. I want to be seen as an equal. A woman of worth." Sam could feel how badly he wanted her. "I want you." Slowly and deliberately she pulled his t-shirt loose from his jeans and ran her hands along the soft planes of his stomach. She felt a sense of power wash over her as he moaned in response to the strokes of her fingertips along his flesh.

"Sam, are you trying to kill me?" Marcus grabbed at her hips, trying to shift her weight off of his groin. She wanted him. He had told her the truth about everything and she still wanted him. She knew his weaknesses and his mistakes and could see past them. And still, she wanted him, flaws and all.

"Not out here," he groaned. He admitted defeat. She won. She could have him, anytime, anywhere. "You deserve satin sheets," he whimpered as she ran her fingers along his beltline. "Roses," he gasped as she unbuttoned his jeans. "Candlelight," he pled as her fingers curled around the hard ridge of his erection. "Soft music," he mouthed as Sam lowered her head and wrapped her lips around his shaft and began slicking her tongue over the ripe head. He was done for.

"Oh the hell with it," he muttered, running his hands through her hair and holding on for dear life to the soft curls trapped in his fingers as she suckled him, taking his length deep into her mouth.

Sam savored her victory and him. She tickled and teased his shaft with her fingertips and her tongue, drawing out the moment as he bucked and moaned in response to her seductive onslaught. Running her mouth along the full length and capturing the hard, bulging tip between her lips, she slid down on his length, taking him in as far as she could. She loved the reaction she coaxed out of him. His labored breaths and panting moans, words whispered in urgent fury, and the working of his fingers, clutching and tugging at her hair.

Withdrawing from his hard, ripe erection she lifted her blouse over her head and shook her hair free. She lifted his hand to her breast and guided his fingers to work the front closure of her bra open. Her hips bucked as Marcus cupped her breasts, gently kneading them, working the sensitive tips with the heels of his hands.

Marcus opened his eyes, beholding the beauty before him. Diana, the goddess of the moon and the hunt sat high straddling him. The moonlight shone, reflecting off the dark waves of her hair. Her eyes blazed with passion and want. Her lips were full, promising softness, begging for his kiss. He ran his hands along her bare flesh, working the straps of her bra off her shoulders. "Samantha, I'm not going to stop," he warned.

Sam almost wished she had worn the skirt Janine picked out for her. It would have been so much easier. Scooting back she unbuttoned the jeans and eased off his hips, Working the snug denim over her thighs and wiggling free of her underwear, cool night air was a gentle caress on her skin. Marcus lay on the ground, never taking his eyes from her. His gaze blazed with enough heat to melt the polar ice caps, watching as she stripped. "I don't want you to."

The sound of her name on his lips, whispered intimately as any lover's kiss, brought a smile to her lips and courage to her heart. Heating the blood in her veins to a boil. She wanted him naked. Erect, his length stood tall and proud, hers for the taking. She coaxed him to lift his hips and worked with fevered urgency to free him of his jeans and boots. He was armed, as all the brothers were, with blades and daggers hidden beneath his clothes. Slowly, one by one, she removed the array of weapons, always keeping them in easy reach of their hands. A true warrior, no matter what the circumstance was always on duty.

Marcus coaxed Sam onto her back. She'd be insulted if he rolled his jeans into a makeshift pillow for her head or tried to cushion her from the damp spring grass and bits of shale beneath her. Sam belonged in this world of woods, wild, and moonlight. Infused with the scent of pine, the perfume of her arousal filled him with urgency and the need to take her here and now. She was wet and ready for him. The demon between his thighs jumped and throbbed, aching for her. But she deserved better. He forced himself to slow down and savor the moment. With gentle, soft strokes he teased her sleek folds until she quivered against his hand, her walls gripping his fingers. Pushing her thighs open a little wider, he slid his mouth down, replacing his fingers with his tongue.

Sam thought she was on the verge of combustion. Marcus suckled and nipped at her with long, measured passes of his tongue. She cried out as he teased the ripe nub at the apex of her sex, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh while she bucked and moaned beneath him. She was about to lose herself to the rhythm of his erotic kiss when he added a finger, sliding it into her depths. Making her work for her release, he dipped a second finger in and stroked her walls, stretching her, preparing her for his entry. She shouted his name in sheer ecstasy and shattered as he bit, driving his fangs into the tender skin of her inner thigh. Trembling with pleasure as he drank from her.

Marcus took a few sips of Sam's sweet blood. Giving into his instinctive need to possess every part of her. Her body tensed and rocked against his fingers as she climaxed. Her sensation and sheer joy flowed into him as the blood made its way to the core of his being. He licked the wound closed and inched his way back up her body. Slowly, he pressed his thick, hard erection into her, groaning in desire as her softness yielded, gripping him and welcoming him home.

Sam shuddered, sighing in passion as Marcus slowly and agonizingly slid into her, inch by inch. His length filled her, stretching her to her limits. He was hard and warm. Each push of his hips built the desire raging within her core to a fevered pitch. She ached for more. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, her hands clamped around his shoulders, digging her nails in his skin, she pulling him close, bucking her hips against his, pleasuring herself and him with the erotic friction of their joined bodies. Her cries of joy filled the night as he responded, giving her exactly what she wanted.

Marcus bit his bottom lip, concentrating as he focused on giving Sam what she needed. He was ready to burst. Come and fill her with his release. But, he wanted to hold out, make the moment last until her body shuddered in orgasm beneath him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her close, relishing the sensation of her breasts pinned beneath his chest. Cradling her head, he brought her mouth up, even with his neck. "Take from me," he urged.

He moaned with pure passion as he felt Sam's lips lock onto the skin of his neck and her fangs graze his flesh. There was a sharp pinch and then nothing but pure pleasure as she latched on, suckling him. Taking in his strength into her body. He fell over the brink. Pushing hard and slow, driving her over the edge with him. His release filled every inch of her, spilling his love and his passion inside of her. His blood flowed into her, feeding her, strengthening her, marking her irreversibly as his.

Sam's head reeled and her body quivered in delight. She took one last swallow and licked the wounds closed. Lying back in Marcus's arms she let her body float on a sea of happiness and contentment.

Marcus eased off of Sam, holding her body close, to keep her warm. Lost in his own world. A world he now shared with her. He kissed her closed lids smiling down at her as she opened her eyes, looking up at him with love and moonlight reflected in their depths.

Sam ran her hand along Marcus's back. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him meeting his gaze. His stare told volumes, he cared for her. Loved who she was, not as an object to be protected, or a possession to be won, but as a person, as an equal. She shifted her focus and stared up into the sky. The horizon was lined with shades of blue and pink. Traces of golden sunlight wove throughout streaks of pristine white clouds. Morning birds awoke and sang a greeting to the new day. She sighed contentedly. A new day was beginning, and here she was, her limbs intertwined through her lover's, naked and unabashed, as they lay on the bluffs, bathed in dawn's first light.



Chapter 55

Chance spent the night, sitting around a campfire with the Shaman, listening to him recant tales of ole. He'd often wondered about The Great Father's mailing address. Where did he go when he wasn't with them? Thanks to Doc, he had his answer. The Great Father spent his time traveling. Where? Nobody knew. He and his brother, the Prophet, never stayed in one place for too long.

The Shaman was a well of information, holding nothing back. He was one of the Original Sons. He had been witness to the moment when Kokumthena held The Great Father's dying human body in her arms transforming him. The story woven by The Shaman kept Chance entranced and caught in the depths of its web all night.

The more stories the Shaman told, the more Chance's curiosity peaked. But, there were some questions that even the Shaman had no answers to. When Chance asked how long would he live, The Shaman shrugged and told him to go ask the mountains how old they were. The answer was cryptic, leaving Chance puzzled.

Chance knew much more about The Shaman than he had before. He'd always, not that he ever did much, thought of the Shaman as a medicine bag, toting healer, a sum of his functions, not as an individual with feelings and a heart, until he'd asked the Shaman why he didn't have someone special in his life.

The Shaman was well into his elder years at the time of The Great Father's transformation. At the time he was turned by The Great Father he had a wife and grown children. He returned home and tried to explain his altered state of being. Intending to turn his wife and his oldest son. But, his family, frightened of what he had become, rejected him, turning him away. His son, terrified of his father, gathered up a hunting party of braves and set out to destroy him. The Shaman was forced into hiding and his family was forced further away from their lands, pushed westward by the Union Army. Separated forever. Doc never saw any of his family again.

Chance and the Shaman spent a great deal of time in between stories, staring into the fire, lost in their own private worlds. Chance thought about how lucky he was that he had Alex and his mom and dad. How blessed he was that his mom loved him enough not to let go after her life was changed and she was forced to become a vampire. How fortunate he was to find Alex. And how lucky he was to get to know his father after a lifetime apart.

How strangely Ka-tet worked. His mother and father were separated when they were in college. Shortly before she found out she was pregnant. Not knowing that she was pregnant, he joined the brotherhood and, realizing he could never go back, he never saw her again until the night of the battle. His mother turned to The Sons for help weeks after the battle and there was his dad. No, they didn't pick up exactly where they left off. But, history repeated itself and they fell madly in love, again.

And now, the dawn was rose high into the sky, filling it with shades of pink and blue. It was his turn to find happiness and love. Tonight at moonrise, he and Alex would share blood and become husband and wife. Alex... his wife...Chance could hardly wait. Unable to sleep, he tracked through the quiet woods, carefully avoiding the sunlight streaming through the trees.

*****

Janine's eyes popped open and she bounced out of bed. Today was the big day! Her best friend was getting married at moonrise and she had tons of things to get accomplished, not only was she the wedding planner, but the maid of honor. She shook the bed, waking Patrick. "Come on, I need your help."

Patrick moaned sleepily, turning he glanced at the clock. "Janine it's only five in the morning." He'd had a late night, making love to her, wiping all thoughts of any other man from her mind, and he was hoping she'd sleep in until at least seven. "We've got all day," he whined.

"Oh never mind. I'll work on some stuff here until you get ready to get your lazy butt out of bed," Janine huffed and stormed to the shower. She thought vampires had inexhaustible strength and stamina. Patrick did, as long as it was something he wanted to do. She stuck her head under the tap and let the warm water wash all her negative thoughts down the drain. Today was not the day for them. She would be happy for her friend. The ATV was loaded and ready to go. She didn't need Patrick's help. And struggling to set up the tables and decorate alone was better than listening to him complaining about being forced to help.

****

Alex lounged in bed missing the warmth of Chance's body next to hers. The electric blanket was a lonesome substitute. She had been ordered by Janine to take it easy today, save her strength for the honeymoon. She sighed, flipping on the early morning news, intending to do just that. Before too long her mom would be barging in to help her to get ready and she needed a few moments peace before the well intended motherly hovering began.

******

Anna traced the outlines of Toby's brow lightly with her fingertip. His face was lax as he slept. Licking her lips, she longed to press them against his. But, she didn't want to wake him. Vampires needed their rest too. She marveled at how calm and safe she felt when she was close to him. She had to admit she was in love with him. She knew if he asked, she'd marry him. Give up her old life and share a new one with him. But, she wouldn't make any moves or drop any hints. The asking was his job, not hers.

Toby pretended to be asleep. The soft feathery brush of Anna's fingers across his skin stirred his groin to life. He read her emotions. She trusted him and no longer put up walls to keep him out. She was happy and in love. He forced his face to stay relaxed as she traced his brow. Soaking her up.

******

Janine navigated the ATV carefully along the winding trail to the bluffs. She took her time, mindful of the overloaded trailer in tow behind her. The sun was in the middle of the morning sky by now and she had to get busy. The day was warm and filled with the fragrant scent of spring blossoms, perfect for a wedding, without a cloud in the sky. She turned the key killing the ignition and began dragging things out of the trailer.

Roark hovered in the shadows, watching the woman busily work to set up tables and decorations for a celebration. She was too harried to notice him. The Sons hadn't detected his presence. He grinned in satisfaction, although wrinkling his nose in disgust. He smelled like a sewer. Before popping by to pay a visit to his new friends. He'd stopped by a local hunting goods store and purchased every bottle of fox urine and doe in heat on the shelves. Hoping his experiment would work, he sprinkled the aromatic scent on his clothing. And since there were no warriors with blades to his neck, he assumed his attempt at trickery had worked quite well. He kept careful guard on his mind, shielding it against any psychic invasion.

He had guessed right, judging by the style of decorations the human female scattered about, so in keeping with human tradition. There was going to be a wedding today. He recognized her petite form from the video feed he intercepted last night. Her scent was strongly mixed with the musky earthy smell of the Sons. Another human whore, he assumed. He wondered, exactly how many did the Sons have? He inhaled deeply, marking her human fragrance in his memory. She wasn't the one he wanted. But, she would make no less a tasty snack. And humans were so fun to play with.

Roark brought a gift for the bride and groom. He slid his hand into his jacket pocket, retrieving the envelope loaded with bills. He approached the edge of the clearing, stopping to secure his sunglasses on his nose, and walked noisily toward the woman. Clearing his throat to get her attention.

Janine turned to the sound of a throat clearing behind her. Effectively entrapping her feet in yards of cream-colored satin ribbon as she turned. "Hello," she said politely. She paused for a moment as the man walked closer. He had an otherworldly grace to his movements. The stealth of a predator honing in on its pray to each carefully gauged step. He wasn't human and he wasn't anyone she knew. "I don't believe we've met," she said pointedly, palming the scissors in her hand.

Roark tipped his head. Smart girl. She knew what he was without an introduction. "No. We have not," he obliged her inquiry. "Are you in charge of the wedding preparations? So nice to see a couple in love." He edged closer, sensing her wariness, much like a doe scents a wolf closing in for the kill.

"That would be me," Janine answered, faking a friendly smile. She blocked her thoughts as well as she could. If the man didn't know that she knew what he was, she might live longer. If he proved to be a threat, well... she was out here alone. And that was that. At this point, she wasn't sure what to make of him. She blew out a calming breath and focused on Patrick. Why was it always her? Was she a magnet for hungry vamps or what? Given the fact that she was human, she guessed she was the closest thing to fast food a vampire could sink his teeth into.

"I have a gift for the bride and groom," Roark said, extending the hand holding the envelope out to Janine.