Dawn's Shelter

Chapter 26

Barbara paced the confines of her room, working her self up into a ball of frenzied worry. Her sense of mother's intuition was in overdrive. Alerting her to the danger that her son was in. She had to defend him. Earlier in the kitchen, she had the distinct feeling that he was trying to say goodbye to her. She couldn't continue to pace. She had to do something to protect her only son.

The Shaman sat in the corner. Watching as Barbara wore a path in the carpet beneath her feet. The air was thick with her anxiety. He longed for a way to help her. But, there was nothing he could do. He loved Thomas like a son and would not think twice about rushing to his aid. Unfortunately, on all accounts, his hands were tied. The wheels of Thomas's fate were in motion, steering him on his destined path.

He worried about Barbara. About what she might try to do if she learned the true nature of Thomas's danger. She could decide to go after the wolf in a wild frenzy to defend her son. She was no fighter. She could die. Something he wasn't fully sure that she realized or possibly, without Thomas, even cared about.

She could try to force her gift on Thomas. The gift had to be given freely and willingly accepted. The magic could not be forced. If Thomas rejected the gift, she'd be responsible for killing her own son. Sometimes, a mother's love knew no boundaries. Any perceivable threat was a trip wire ready to detonate. He couldn't allow her to go off on a wild tangent in order to save her son from his fate. He had to protect Barbara from her worst enemy. Herself.

There was a harried pounding on her bedroom door. She recognized the voice as if she'd just heard it only yesterday. "Mack." She answered the door with surprise in her voice. He was the last person she expected to see. Things must be really bad. Worse than she anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, Mack would shed some light to what was going on with her son. She stepped back to let him in.

Mack pulled off his wide brimmed sheriff's hat and clutched it in his hands. Twisting the brim in his fists, he said, "I'm telling Thomas. Everything. He needs to know."

"Why now? What is going on? What kind of danger is my son in?" She grabbed at the lapels of Mack's standard issue jacket and hauled him toward her. The fabric ripped, sending him sprawling to keep his balance. Sometimes, she forgot how strong she was. "Tell me."

Mack shot a look of confusion at the Shaman. No one had told her about her son? The danger Thomas was in. Why had they kept it from her? "Barbara, Thomas is in danger. He is going to fight tonight at the bluffs. He's every bit as impulsive as his father was. Every bit. He's fighting a werewolf over the woman."

"Jan?"

"Yes. Barbara, he can't win. I have to tell him. I can't let him die without knowing how much he means to me. He has a right to the truth."

She shook her head in disbelief. She always knew that Mack had a soft spot for Thomas somewhere in that heart of his. Now was a hell of a time for a long lost family reunion. When her son's life was in danger. Now Mack wanted him to know the truth. When he was in danger of losing him he wanted to talk and go sentimental. She didn't care if Thomas knew who Mack was or not. It was probably better if he did. Something snapped inside of her. In a split second, she made up her mind. She was determined that Mack would not lose his grandson and she would not lose her son. Ever. It didn't ever have to happen and she was going to make sure that it didn't. "He's not going to die. I won't let him."

"Barbara, I can't let you do that." The Shaman stood between her and the door. He'd stop her by force.

"Doc, this doesn't concern you. I know you love Thomas too. Please, let me pass. I don't want to hurt you. But, I will, to protect my son. Now, get out of my way."

"You're right. I do love Thomas. But, his destiny is not in your hands. He has to decide his fate for himself. I will not allow you to force him into a path that is not of his choosing." The Shaman spread his feet shoulder width apart and stiffened his stance. Ready for her to try to fight her way past him.

"At least let me speak with him. Give me the chance to offer him a choice. To do for him what he did for me. You helped him then. Help him now." Barbara stretched out her hand, holding her fingers open for Doc to grasp. "Please. He's all I've got. He's the reason I made the decision that I did. I can't let him go. His life can't end this way. I'd conceded to the fact that someday he will die. But, not like this. Not today. Please help me."

The Shaman took Barbara's offered hand. And held it tightly in his. He knew the pain of watching his children and his children's children grow old, succumb to disease, famine, and war. Helpless to stop the passing of time as they died, one by one, until there were none left. "I'll take you to him. But, he must be allowed to choose for himself."

"That's all I ask." Barbara gave Doc's hand a tight squeeze. She twisted her body at the hip and extended her free hand to Mack.

Mack took Barbara's hand and laced his fingers through hers in a show of solidarity. "Sam would have been proud of you. I know I am. You did a fine job raising Thomas. I wish I'd been there more to help out. I should have been."

"Mack, I knew that you'd always be there for us, if we needed you. You were always watching over us, from a distance. Making sure we were safe. Sam would have appreciated that. He loved you, Mack." She smiled and gave Mack's fingers a gentle squeeze. "It's time for Thomas to finally meet his grandfather."

Thomas ignored the first series of knocks on his door. Preferring to spend his time cuddling with Jan to facing the flow of well wishers and worried faces. He didn't need their pity and he didn't want to answer their questions. He planned to spend the time he had left exactly how he wanted to and that was with Jan in his arms.

"Aren't you going to answer the door?" Jan shifted in his arms, looking to the door. Rolling her eyes at the incessant and demanding pounding, she minded the intrusion. A lot. Being locked in Thomas's arms was paradise. She could float in this private world with him forever. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that whoever was thumping a fist on the oak door agreed with the idea.

"Hell no." Thomas snaked an arm across Jan's waist, sliding her back into position against his chest. He buried the tip of his nose in its familiar spot, where her scent was the strongest, at the base of her neck. His lips brushed across her soft, creamy skin, settling on the bounding point of her pulse. He closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the silky locks of her hair. Pushing everything, especially the annoying pounding on his door, except her out of his mind. He could stay like this forever with her draped across his body in a living blanket of flesh. If only, he had forever to spend.

Jan rested her cheek on the top of Thomas's head. Trying desperately not to think about the clock that was marking the time and ticking away the minutes they had left. His body was tense, gripping on to hers with a sense of urgency. Her blouse wound tightly in his fisted hand as he clung to her. His pulse thundered in her ears and his breath was hot against the flesh of her neck. The incessant pounding, the sounds of muffled voices, and shuffling bodies from the other side of the door wasn't helping him. She wanted to scream at them and tell them to go away. Even though they had just as much right to be with Thomas as she did, maybe more.

Barbara held her ground against the neatly coiffed woman rudely nudging her out of the way with an elegant shoulder. She balled up her fist and pounded on the door as the woman tried to force the brass doorknob to turn. "Thomas honey, it's mom," Barbara coaxed. "Open the door please... baby..." She pressed her palm to the ornately carved wooden panels that separated her from her son.

Eloise scoffed. The woman was speaking to her son as if he were still three years old. She rammed a hip against the simply dressed, unimpressive blonde. Knocking her out of the way as she blocked access to the door with her body. "I don't think your son wants to talk to you," Eloise said smugly. She balled up a fist and pounded against the door with all her might. The door shook in its frame but held. "Jan, open this damned door!" she huffed.

Barbara snorted and shoved her way past the woman to the door. "I don't think your daughter wants to talk to you either." She ran an appraising and dismissive eye over the woman. "Not that I blame her, bitch." Resuming her post, she pounded on the door and pled in her sweetest voice with her son to let her in.

"Why, yes I am a bitch, by birth. Honey, sweetie pie, what's your excuse?" Eloise growled deep in her throat. The atmosphere around her charged with energy as she struggled to control her anger and the wolf howling in frustration beneath her skin.

Barbara returned the gesture. Dropping her fangs to give the woman a good show of the sharp points beneath her curled upper lip. She was not about to be threatened in any way by a prissy, pampered, pedigreed, ankle biter.

The men had the good sense to stay out of the way, up until this point. Leaning against the far wall of the hallway they watched as the women pleaded with their children to open the door. Nash rolled his eyes at the Shaman and received a similar gesture from the Shaman in return. He tackled Eloise pinning her against the doorjamb as the Shaman tackled Barbara, holding her tightly against his chest, locked in a steel embrace.

Mack rubbed his forehead with his hand. Today was his day to break up fights, he supposed. Just another day at the office, he thought as he stepped toward the door. The women struggled and hissed at each other vehemently. Scrambling to break free and gain access to the other. He understood, they weren't angry with each other. Their outburst was more the product of worry and frustration than aggression. But, two women fighting, sexy as hell if he had to admit it, were damn ugly. The hair pulling, the name calling, scratching, and clawing at one another wasn't something he wanted to get in the middle of.

"Ladies, please. Let's tone this down a notch or two," he said in his most official, cop of over twenty-seven years, voice. He was just a human guy, a card-carrying member of the AARP, and a soon to be retiree. These women could tear him apart with their bare hands, if they wanted to. There wasn't much a mother wouldn't do to protect her child. "You are not helping your daughter," he said pointedly to Eloise. Barbara crossed her arms over her chest and nodded self-righteously at Eloise. "Or you for your son," he added shooting a meaningful glance at Barbara. He blew out a sigh of relief as the women settled down. They glared at each other. But, at least they weren't trying to rip into each other, for the moment.

He pulled out his nightstick and rapped on the door with three hard taps. "Thomas, it's Mack. I know...," he cleared his throat, choking out the words. "How important your time is right now. But, could you answer the door? Give us just a minute or two, please?"

Thomas huffed and shot to his feet. Determined to stop this nonsense right now. He could not possibly enjoy the fragment of his life that was left with all these interruptions. He had plans to end his life on a good note, making love to Jan. Not playing doorman to every damn idiot that knocked on his door.

He could not believe that his mother had stooped so low to drag Mack into the mix of things. His hand rested on the cold brass lock. Twisting the knob and pulling open the door, at the end of his patience he shouted, "Do you people not realize that in." God, he shouldn't have done it. But, he looked at his watch and blinked in disbelief. "In forty-five minutes I. Am. Going. To. Die!"

"No you're not!" Barbara wriggled free of Doc's grip and pushed past Mack. She rushed Thomas and pinned him to the floor. Securing him tightly beneath her as she tore at the neck of his t-shirt. "Just hold still, baby. Momma will take care of everything."

Thomas struggled against his mother. Forced into stillness beneath the iron grip of her hands on his shoulder. "Mom!" he huffed. His arms were pinned to his sides. She tightened her thighs around his biceps. "Let me up!" He struggled to catch his breath as his mom sat on his chest. Her fangs extended and eyes fixed on his jugular. He fought with everything he had. Bucking his hips to throw her off of him. She clung to him like plastic wrap. He didn't want this. "Stop!"

"Baby, it doesn't hurt." Barbara cooed to her son like a newborn. "It's for the best. You'll see." She tightened her grip on his neck and aimed for her strike. "We don't ever have to be apart. Not even death can touch us."

The air puffed out of her body as she sailed across the room and crashed into a dresser. The splintered drawers showered her with wooden fragments. She scrambled to her knees. Hatefully, she glared at the young woman who stood between her and saving Thomas's life. Jan stood defensively over Thomas. Blocking her path to her baby boy. And she was having none of it. The little bitty female wolf was going to make a great chew toy.

"Barbara!" The Shaman bellowed as he circled Barbara's waist with his arms. Dragging her away from Thomas, he hauled her to her feet. "He doesn't want your gift." He dug in, squeezing her with all his might The two of them tumbled to the floor. He wrapped a leg around her flailing limbs to still her.

"I don't understand," Barbara wailed. "Don't you love me?" she asked Thomas. Her eyes searched his face as tears rolled down her cheeks blurring her vision.

Jan watched Thomas warily as he caught his breath and scrambled to his feet. She was in defensive mode. Ready to attack anyone or anything that threatened him. Thomas's mother was pinned to the floor beneath the weight of a very large man. His face was a mask of hurt and regret as his gaze bounced between Barbara and Thomas.

"Mom, of course I do." Thomas dropped to his knees and slid her free from Doc. Smoothing the tears off her cheeks, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. "Of course I do. And it hurts me to know, probably very soon, sooner than I had ever dreamed. That I'm going to have to leave you."

"You don't have to." Barbara buried her face against the torn collar of Thomas's shirt. Rubbing her eyes, drying her tears on his shoulder.

"The choice you made was right for you. You have to trust that the choice I'm making is the right one for me." He stared down into her teary blue eyes and forced a smile for her. Gently, he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "Stop crying. Please. Mom. Don't cry."

"You're all I have."

"No... You've built your life around me. Lived for me. Now, you have to let me go. Let me chose the path that is right for me. Let me be the man you raised me to be." He closed his eyes and held her tightly, inhaling her sweet scent. "Mom, you have to promise me that no matter what happens you're going to live for yourself. Be the woman that I know that you are."

"I'll try." Barbara released her grip and let Doc haul her to her feet. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. Holding back the tears that she'd save for later, when she was alone and no one was watching.

Jan blinked back a tear at the heartfelt exchange between Thomas and his mother. The love they had for one another strengthened her resolve. She was going to put an end to this and Thomas's mother would have him whole, healthy, and alive.

"Thomas." Mack clapped his grandson on the shoulder. "I've watched you grow up into a man that I could not be more proud of."

"Thanks. That means a lot coming from you, Mack," Thomas answered. He was puzzled by Mack's statement. He and Mack were buddies, occasionally tossing back a cold one or watching a game on the big screen at the bar. The intensity of feeling in Mack's voice surprised him. And his presence here, now at the end confirmed his suspicions. In that clap on the back and the tone of Mack's voice he knew who his grandfather was and his father had been.

"I see so much of your father in you. Sometimes I..." Mack gulped back the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. "Thomas, your father was my son. I'm your grandfather."

Thomas scrubbed his hand through his hair. Somehow, he'd guessed that he and Mack shared a deeper connection than buddies. Mack always seemed to be around. Watching from the cheap seats, hidden in the background of his life. When he graduated from high school, Mack had been there, whistling and clapping as he accepted his diploma. "My grandfather..." Hearing him actually say it drove the point home. He had a grandpa. He...there were so many things the two of them should have gotten to do together. Christmases missed. Birthday parties Mack had never attended. His grandpa should have been his best friend. And this soon to the witching hour there was no time left to make up for everything they'd missed out on for all these years.

"I should have told you sooner. But, there never seemed to be a good time. I couldn't let you face this without knowing." Mack's shoulders shrank and he buried his hands deep into his pockets. "I .. aw hell, I love you boy." He withdrew his hand and extended it to Thomas, expecting a handshake and almost crying as Thomas locked onto his fingers and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I'm glad I know." Thomas felt Mack's frailty hidden beneath his uniform jacket. Soft flesh bagged in the space where hard, rigid, muscle had been decades ago. Mack was still strong and virulent. He had a good many years of life left. But, too soon, his time would be up. Who knew? Maybe there were fishing holes and big screen TVs in the afterlife. Maybe, there were second chances in heaven. He lifted his gaze to Doc. He loved his family. But, what few minutes were left, he wanted to spend alone with Jan.

The Shaman nodded slightly, answering Thomas's silent request. Gently, he took Barbara by the hand and gestured to Mack. Leading them away from Thomas. Thomas's eyes beseeched him for one last task, to take care of them for him. Silently Doc dipped his head giving his vow that he would.

Thomas sank onto the bed. Breathing out an emotionally charged sigh. He couldn't help glancing at his watch. He had less than a half an hour left. He rested his feet on the oak footboard and buried his forehead in his palms. Refusing to think about how little time he had and how much it meant.

Bile rose in Eloise's throat. Bitter jealousy bubbled up at the emotional, loving display between Thomas and his family. She had no such connection with hers. Never had. She pasted a sardonic smile on her face and tipped her head toward her daughter. Jan stood over her lover in an aggressive, protective stance. "Nice to see that you've finally become the Alpha that I knew you could be."

"I didn't do it for you," Jan bit back.

Eloise stared bitterly at Jan, refusing to shrink back from her daughter's cold, damning glare. "No, I don't suppose you did." She tipped her chin toward Thomas. "You really love him, don't you?"

"I do," Jan answered. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared to defend Thomas. She could imagine her mother's next line of discussion, insults to Thomas's humanity. Digging barbs and painful remarks against her decisions and the way she lived her life. And of course, a full barrage of guilt trips for leaving her poor mother and sister hanging, abandoning them instead of accepting her duty with grace and honor. She wanted no part of any thing her mother had to say. And she wasn't going to listen to it. Nash stood behind her mother, one nod from Jan and he would usher her out. It was a bit kinder than what Jan wanted to do, which, was toss her out on her ass.