Dawn's Shelter

Mack hadn't been able to see past history repeating itself. He saw his son making the same mistakes that he had. Mack had gotten married young. He put off college and took a job at the local sawmill to provide for his pregnant wife. Three days before his nineteenth birthday, he got sent to Vietnam, courtesy of Uncle Sam and the draft. Sam was born while he was off serving his country.

When Mack finally got home and out of the army, his son was two. His wife met him at the front door of their ramshackle shotgun style house with divorce papers in her hand. She blamed him for leaving her to raise their son. She claimed that the time they spent away from each other had driven them apart and forced her into the arms of another. Maybe it had, but what choice had he been given? None.

While he was in the bush trying to get his ass and the collective asses of his unit home in one piece, she'd met someone else. Someone she liked better. She had plans for a new life, a life that unfortunately did not include their son. She left Mack behind with a rambunctious toddler who didn't know the stranger that was his father and couldn't understand why his mother never came back from the grocery store one rainy September afternoon.

Mack thought Barbara was just a passing phase in his son's life and that she'd trapped Sam into marrying her by getting pregnant. His son was going to have to provide for the child when the time came. There was no doubt about that. There was also no doubt in Mack's mind that they stood no chance of making it beyond the first few months of marriage. Sam was too young for a family. Barbara was only sixteen.

Mack had so many regrets, stacked layer upon layer. He shouldn't have been so hard on his son. He should have supported his son and his decision to marry Barbara and start a family of his own. He'd pushed his Sam too hard. Sam was impulsive and rash, a typical teen. There were bitter words and the squall of tires as they hit the pavement, bound for the city. Words, he could never apologize for. He loved his son, regretted that he didn't show it more often, that he never said it, and that he'd never get the chance.

He should have tried harder, after Sam's death, to build a relationship with Barbara. Instead, he'd driven her away too, and she'd taken her son with her. He always kept tabs on Barbara and Thomas, making sure they were safe. Watching Thomas grow, from a boy into a man. Although Thomas didn't know it, Mack was proud of him, and he loved him, every bit as much as he'd loved his son.

Sam's death spurred him to go into law enforcement. No one should have to be awakened by a knock on the door in the middle of the night. No officer should have to deliver the painful, bitter news of the loss of a loved one. He couldn't change what had happened to Sam. But, he might be able to prevent it from happening to someone else's son. If he only saved one, it was enough reward for the life of long hours and bearing witness to the worst that people could inflict on one another.

He first bumped into the Sons on a rainy night in April years ago. Prom night. He was out, cruising the dark country roads. Making sure that the town's teens weren't out doing stupid things, like drinking and driving, when he came across an accident scene.

He had seconds to evaluate the scene and make a decision. The car was crushed like a pop can. Shrapnel from the wreck pinned an unconscious boy inside the car. A girl lay in a ditch, apparently ejected from the wreckage upon impact broken and battered, but alive and crying out for the boy. Mack radioed for help and tried to free the boy.

Mack tried to reassure the boy, who was coming round slowly, that everything was going to be fine. Help was on the way. He used all his strength to try to wrench the door open, but it wouldn't budge.

The smell of gasoline was a concern, a big one. One stray spark and his rescue attempt would turn into a body retrieval. He worked to keep the boy calm and to try to free his mangled body. Fear became reality. He was thrown back about fifty feet, showered by a rain of glass and debris when the car burst into flames. The boy was still alive. Hollow screams of agony broke through the silence of the night. A sound Mack would never forget as long as he lived.

Something happened. Something Mack couldn't explain at the time. There was a dark flash of movement and a strong breeze. The car was torn open, metal ripped into pieces by something, as easily as he might tear off a piece of aluminum foil from the roll. The boy's body, mangled, burned, fatally damaged, was free from the wreck. The boy was still alive, barely. A body could not endure that kind of torture and survive.

Mack had to blink twice. A man was biting the boy. He went for his gun. Who would do that to a defenseless victim? Especially a teenage boy, who had but minutes left to his short life as it was? Faceless arms pinned him to the ground. He saw the unexplainable happen, right before his eyes. The man bit his wrist and fed blood to the boy. Even in the dark, as the boy drank, Mack could see his injuries heal. Healthy skin knitted and replaced the charred layers of exposed flesh and bone.

He would have never believed in vampires, if it hadn't been for what he'd seen with his own eyes. They would have never shared their secret with him, if he hadn't bore witness to it for himself. The girl went to the hospital and graduated from high school the following year. There was a funeral for the boy and a gravesite. Mack had attended the proceedings. The secret locked behind his closed lips. The funeral, the closed casket, and the grave, all empty. Lucien had become a vampire. And he had become a human member of the ancient brotherhood known simply as the Sons.

Mack hitched up his holster and lowered the brim of his hat over his eyes. He'd missed what happened outside while he cleaned up the mess inside. Kept the locals calm and cool. He tipped the wide brim of his hat as Chance walked casually down the street and slipped into an alleyway. Mack followed at a casual distance, listening in on the update.

He was not going to lose Thomas. He was not going to stand by and let Thomas throw his life away. He was going to do something. He didn't know what, but something. Thomas didn't know that they shared a connection that went beyond casual friendship and the occasional beer. He pulled out his keys and slid into his cruiser. Gunning the engine, he drove straight for the compound. It was time Thomas found out, just exactly how deep their connection ran. Mack was not going to let Thomas go the way he had his son. Without him ever knowing how much he was loved, or that Mack even loved him at all.

Chapter 24

The atmosphere inside the SUV, with its climate controlled cabin and heated leather seats, was sub-zero. No one said a word. Dane drove the familiar route from town to the compound wrapped up and tight lipped as the SUV's other occupants. The only sound was the soft, heaving whispers of Jan's sobs and the gentle brush of cloth against skin as Thomas tried to comfort her.

Eloise sat in the third seat, next to Kacie. Watching as the frozen, barren landscape rushed by the tinted windows. How wrong she had been to engineer Jan's future for her. She only intended for the best. And instead, had gotten the worst. Her daughters hated her. Her pack was in danger. And quite possibly, given the aggressiveness and the show of fang from the vampires running the show, so was hers. Futures weren't built without cracking a few eggs. But she had not intended for the eggs to come from her basket.

She knew all along that Jan was not happy about her pre-planned future. But, she'd never expected her daughter to run off and fall for a human. She thought that Jan would put up her fight and eventually come to see reason. Concede to the future that was laid out before her. The human male was a complication Eloise had not anticipated having to deal with. He was in the way. Although, Torr had taken care of that little issue nicely. She didn't want Thomas to die or her daughter to get hurt in the process.

If she could talk her daughter into coming home, things wouldn't have to go that far. Perhaps, that was the angle she could use to bring her wayward child back into the fold. If Jan loved Thomas like she claimed to. She'd let him go to protect him.

Kacie could see her mother's plotting written all over her face. Eloise needed to stop it while she was ahead. Her mother's plotting had caused enough trouble as it was. When would the woman ever learn?

Jan's sobs made her heart ache with regret. She shouldn't have tried so hard to find her. She should have spoken with her sister first, before alerting their mother. If she'd known how wildly and desperately Jan loved Thomas, she would have lead her mother on a wild goose chase as far in the opposite direction as she could have. Then Jan could have had her happy life. Now, any hopes that she held for Jan and her future happiness were growing dimmer by the minute. Matters were worse than they needed to be and it was all her fault.

Thomas pressed Jan's tear dampened cheek against his chest. She was killing him slowly. "Please, don't cry," he whispered. She was breaking his heart. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with her right now. To whisk her off to some deserted area of the compound and hold her for as long as he could before the inevitable came.

He wanted so badly to lie to her and tell her that she had nothing to worry about and that everything was going to be fine. In fact, he'd tried telling her that. But, she knew the truth. They all did. He was a guy, just an ordinary guy. No magic. No supernatural power. He had no hopes of really being able to last more than a few minutes against the werewolf whatsoever. Once he quit breathing, biological death would come in three to five minutes and brain death in ten, maybe less. Then it would be game over, for good.

He should spend his last few hours on earth strategizing with the brothers to come up with a good offensive. But, what was the point? The only thing he wanted was to spend what time he had left with Jan. He never imagined that he would get to plan the last few hours of his life. So few people truly did. He should consider himself lucky, he guessed. At least he'd get to say goodbye to everyone he loved. He squeezed his eyes shut. Stuffing the black thoughts in his mind far into an abandoned corner. All his thoughts would do was ruin what time he had left. And there was precious little of it to spare.

Jan tried desperately to quiet her sobs and dry her damp eyes. Thomas needed her to be strong. He deserved to enjoy their time together. Thomas would die. It was an unavoidable certainty. Torr would win. She saw only one way out. The question, was she brave enough to pull it off? Could she kill in cold blood? She patted the dagger strapped to her hip. To save Thomas, yes she could. She wouldn't have much time. She'd have to be fast and precise. Any miscalculation would cost them both their lives. She gathered her resolve. And solidified her thoughts down to one. Retreating into that cold, dark place in her mind to do what had to be done.

Torr paced around the cramped hotel suite. Thinking about what a shit storm his life had turned into and how that storm blew into the lives of others. He wasn't a killer. He had to do what was necessary to secure his position in the pack, establish himself as its leader, and protect his secrets. Pack life was brutal and at times, lethal. He'd come to reckoning with that long ago.

It was true. He saw humans as weak, almost helpless creatures. He pitied them with the same fierceness he envied them. They had such freedom. Where in his world, there was none. When Jan had proclaimed her love for the human male, it stung his ego. He had issued a challenge in response to his bruised pride and for no other reason. He didn't expect the male to accept. To sign his death warrant so readily, but he had. And when Thomas had accepted, he'd set a chain of events into play that there was no way to stop.

He really didn't want Jan. Her good breeding and superior genetics were evident enough. She simply didn't interest him, physically or mentally. He preferred the company of a gentler species. Human females, fragile, soft, weak, and oh so sweet were more to his liking. He'd loved many but fallen in love with only one. And it was that love that kept them apart.

His father had bred him to be the man he was. He too was the byproduct of generations of natural selection and genetic engineering. But, even for his superiority, Torr was the man he'd been bred to be. But not the son his father had wanted him to be. Although his father had tried to beat it out of him. He'd been born with a heart and soul. He loved too deeply. Cared too much. Physical pain faded too quickly. But, the emotional scars left behind by his father's cruelty would never heal. His father only had one thing left he could do to him to inflict pain. Other than that there was nothing he could do to harm him beyond repair. Torr could be cruel. He could be ruthless and heartless, a chip off the old block. And in his capacity to do the things he hated his father the most for. He would protect what was his by any means possible.

For Jan's sake, he'd make quick work of Thomas. One quick twist and he'd break his neck. The male wouldn't even know what hit him. Jan would be heartbroken. Subdued by her pain into bitter compliance. He'd drag her and her family back to Texas. Do his duty and marry her. It was an ironic thing. For all his father's and her mother's plotting and scheming they'd never get the firstborn they so desperately wanted. And as for his father's kingdom, he'd pick away at it piece by piece until there was nothing left of it.

He would not kill her mother or her sister. He'd drive them out. Banish them from the pack forever. That would be his gift to Jan, the lives of her family. As queen of the pack, Jan could rise up against him and challenge his authority. Take control of the large combined pack their marriage ensured. He was counting on it. Depending on her grief and pain to tear the empire their parents had tried to build. Relying on her to end him and with his death, protect his secret. He was not a killer and he did not relish the thought. But in the end, he was what he was. A werewolf. And for him, killing was a fact of life. In his world, only the strong survived.

Barbara didn't need a psychic link to tell her something was deeply troubling Thomas. Her mother's intuition set off a chorus of alarm bells in her head. Warning her that her little boy was in danger. She'd felt his presence the second the SUV pulled into the garage and had gone down to see for herself what the problem was. As a mother, it was her duty to fix it. She smoothed hair with her trembling hands. Deeply troubled by the vibrations of worry and fear that radiated off her son's unchecked emotions. She followed his scent trail and the pungent reek of his emotions to the kitchen.

"Thomas?" She forced a smile and helped him pile food high on a tray. He had quite the assortment, none of the food his typical healthy choices. He'd bypassed the fruits and vegetables in preference for salty potato chips and chive dip. He'd reached into the fridge and pushed the low fat cheese out of his way and reached for the block of aged cheddar in the back.

She crinkled the plastic wrapper of a twinkie package between her fingers. He had glasses filled to the brim with sugary pop. A twelve pack of ice cream sandwiched melted in their box. Everything he had denied himself in the pursuit of good health was stacked haphazardly on the tray. She hid her frown behind a smile as he dumped a bag of peanut M&Ms into a bowl. He planned to eat like his heath didn't matter in the least. As if he had nothing to lose.

"Mom." Thomas gripped her hard in his arms and squeezed her as tightly as he could. The bowl of M&M's spilled, the colorful candy rolling across the stainless steel countertop. Resting his chin on the top of her head as he held her. He remembered the time when he was eleven years old. He was smaller than the other kids and an easy target for the usual schoolyard bullies. One afternoon, he'd taken a hell of a beating from an oversized sixth grader named Bobby something or other.

Bloodied and bruised, he'd run home crying. His mom had made it better. Just like she always had. She'd tended his wounds and fed him his favorite meal. Soothing him with her gentle touch and a gallon of chocolate ice cream. This time, the bully wanted more than his lunch money and his favorite action figure. The bully wanted his life. An ice pack, gentle hands, and ice cream weren't going to make it better. She couldn't make it better. Nothing could. He wasn't eleven years old anymore. And Billy something or other pumped his gas. Torr was his was his bully and he was going to face up to him. And he was going to lose. Now he understood the depth of the sacrifices his mother had made for him. Because she loved him more than she loved herself, she'd chosen eternity over death.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he silently thanked her for everything she'd ever done for him. He was saying his last goodbye, although she didn't know it. "Love you." Doc was never very far away from his mother. Thomas hadn't heard him walk into the kitchen. He'd sensed him. Opening his eyes he sent the Shaman an imploring look. A look that begged for him to look after his mother and keep her safe. He released her as Doc silently tipped his head in agreement. Thomas forced a smile on his face and picked up the tray. Pop splashed over the rim of the glasses he'd poured for Jan and himself. He'd loaded enough food on the tray to feed an army. Sugar, salt, fat, and carbohydrates made up a pretty decent last meal. He couldn't think of anything better to eat.

"I gotta go, Mom," he said softly. If he stayed he was going to tell her everything. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want her fighting his battles. Stepping in might accidentally cause a war nobody needed. Ultimately, his life was a small price to pay for keeping everyone safe. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't. Staring into her blue eyes for perhaps the last time, he faked a smile.

"Ok, baby." Barbara was even more concerned by the passive smile that curved his lips than she was by the mountain of food on his tray. Thomas wasn't talking and as much as she wanted to hold him in place and force him to tell her what was going on, she let him go. "I'll see you later."

Thomas handed the tray off to Jan and wrapped an arm around her narrow shoulders. Casting one last look at her over his shoulder, he regretted what he'd done to her. He'd saved her life and he thought he'd have at least a few decades to prepare her for the end of his. Sometimes, things didn't workout the way you planned. Doc would take care of her. And Doc would keep her from doing to him what he'd done to her. Nodding and smiling a bitter smile that promised nothing. For he had nothing to promise, he steered Jan out of the kitchen.

Eloise swallowed back the lump in her throat. Herded though the compound with vampires and wolves on her heels, she'd ended up here. Kacie had been steered in a completely opposite direction in a clear display of divide and conquer. She was deeply touched by Thomas's interaction with his mother. That was the way the bond was supposed to be between mother and child. Forged by an inexplicable love for one another, unbreakable by time or circumstance. What she had with her daughters didn't even begin to measure up by comparison. She moved to pick her way around the worried woman and follow behind Thomas and Jan.

A strong hand caught her by the bicep. Stopping her mid stride. She turned to glare at the man who bravely, albeit stupidly, dared to put his hands on her. He was stout and well muscled. Towering at least six inches above her. Lines etched across his bronzed skin and high cheekbones. Gathering in the corners of his hard topaz eyes and the corners of his full, thick lips. Strands of silver wove through the length of raven hair gathered into a tight braid that ran down to his shoulders. Authority radiated off of him. Daring her to question his unspoken demand.