Dawn's Shelter

Clumsily, she climbed down the stairs. The weight of the bag had her slightly off balance. She was trying to hurry, scrambling to think of a place she could hide out until she determined exactly what was going on. A shadowy figure rounded the front of the garage running toward her. NO! This couldn't be happening. In her panic, she bolted down the slick wooden stairs, pitching forward and falling down them to land on her back in the ice and snow. She screamed as the dark shape towered over her.

"Jan!" God, are you all right?" Thomas rushed to help her. He'd run as fast as he could over to her apartment and was panting for breath against the cold air biting at his lungs. He'd seen her fall, rolling down at least half of the stairs and landing hard in the snow. Red stained the ice patch at the bottom of the steps. Her blood seeped from an unseen would somewhere on the back of her head. Stunned, she knocked him away as he knelt to check her over. He'd startled her. But, he hadn't expected her panicked screams. He dodged a fist aimed straight for his jaw "Jan, it's Thomas."

"Thomas?" This she could do without. She tried to appear calm. Scrambling to her feet as she batted away his concerned, hovering hands. Hoping he'd ignore her fall and dismiss it as nothing but clumsiness, she dabbed at the blood running down her cheek. The world weaved dizzily around her. She paid her wounds no heed. She'd heal, faster than she was supposed to, faster than a normal person should. And that'd give away her biggest secret of all. The bag swinging heavily on her shoulder, lent a lack of credence to whatever story she'd manage to concoct. "I'm in kind of a hurry." Biting back the throbbing in her left ankle and hiding the gash in her cheek behind her gloved hand, she hobbled to her car. "I can't explain, but I've got to go."

"Let me check you over." Thomas reached for her gloved hand only to be abruptly shoved away. She had more strength than he'd given her credit for. He stumbled from the force of her push. Her eyes were wide, darting to the shadows beyond the corners of the garage. Her breath heaved, blowing out plumes of steam. "Jan, is something wrong."

"No, I'm a bit stunned from my fall. I'm perfectly fine. I really need to go. I'm sorry. I can't tell you more. But, I can't stay." Jan hobbled down the walk to her car. In a matter of hours, her injuries wouldn't be so bad. She'd heal. She always did. And her miracle healing was the only part of her nature that she didn't mind.

"Jan, you're hurt. We should go inside where I can take a closer look at you." Thomas kept his voice low and calm. Hoping to ease the wild and frightened look in her eyes and coax her into going back up to her apartment where it was warm and he could tend to her injuries. Blood was never a good sign. She was somewhat dazed, maybe a little confused. He began to worry she'd hit her head on the stairs when she fell. He wasn't about to let her drive when she could have a concussion. Even if he had to sit on her to hold her down and risk his secret by calling the brothers for help. Jan wasn't going anywhere until he was certain she was ok.

"I appreciate your concern. But, I really have to go. I simply don't have time for this" Jan had the door open and her bag stuffed into the back seat. She blinked back the tears. Maybe, Thomas hadn't sent the flowers. But, he really did care for her. His sentiment confirmed what she already knew. He didn't just care. He loved her. She shoved the key in the ignition and got nothing, not even the car's typical grinding complaints. The car's engine was as frozen as the world around her. "Damn it."

"Jan, is there something I can do to help?" Thomas asked. She was a mess. Not just physically, but emotionally. Tears dangled from her lashes. The cut on her cheek had stopped bleeding and a purple bruise blossomed beneath a layer of dried, cracking blood. Her braid was damp. Her coat hung askew from her narrow shoulders. Her fingers trembled, clutching the steering wheel. He crouched by the passenger side door he'd opened and eyed the bag she'd hastily tossed in the backseat. He knew the look of someone on the run. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do to get involved. But, no one had ever accused him of being smart.

She hated to ask for help. She hated to rely on anyone or drag him into her mess. But, if she stayed in her apartment, she was as good as found. She didn't have time to wait for that to happen. Thomas would drive her to the bus station. If she couldn't hop a bus tonight, she'd sleep on a bench and be on the first one out in the morning. She didn't have a clue as to what she was going to tell him. How she was going to explain her sudden exodus. "Can you not ask any questions? Because I can't give you any answers."

Thomas nodded. He'd agree to anything to get her to calm down enough to trust him to help. Jan was scared out of her wits. And she was running. To, or away, he didn't know. But, one thing was for sure. She had no plans of staying put. "Ok. I don't suppose I can talk you into going back up stairs can I?"

"No."

"Can you make it to my place?"

"Yes." Jan slid out of the car and grabbed the bag. Thomas lived two neighborhoods away, an easy walk when she wasn't injured with a damaged ankle and loaded down with a majority of her meager possessions stuffed into a bag slung across her shoulder. Thomas relieved her of the bag and offered his arm. Reluctantly, she accepted his help and his offer to lift the burden off her shoulders, at least temporarily.

Jan was in utter agony by the time she made it to Thomas's front porch steps. Each step sent a new wave of pain shooting across the broken bones in her ankle. And she had no doubt. With the swelling and bruising that her ankle was broken. She wouldn't have made the distance to his house, if he hadn't wrapped an arm around her waist and bore most of the weight for the damaged limb. The blood on her cheek had stopped and was freeze dried into a tacky mess on her face. Panting and breathless, she leaned on the doorjamb as he unlocked the dead bolt and guided her inside.

"Close all the drapes and blinds. Make sure the windows and doors are locked." Jan barked orders as she hobbled into the kitchen to drop the vinyl mini blinds over the window above his sink. She couldn't take the chance of being spotted, assuming she already hadn't.

Thomas dropped her bag on the living room floor with a solid thump. The wild, frenzied expression in her eyes had him frightened and curious about what had set her off. Roses were just flowers. Nothing much to be afraid of, yet Jan was terrified. He rushed through the house closing curtains and blinds as she'd asked. Double-checking the windows and doors to make sure they were locked tight at her insistence.

Jan stood in the kitchen. Leaning heavily on her good leg with her hip planted against the cabinets. Shaking and trembling as she struggled to catch her breath, she gripped the counter. Her coat and sweatshirt were splattered with the tiny drops of dried blood that had rolled down her cheek. He took a deep breath and raked his hand through his hair. Wondering what kind of trouble she was in and what kind of trouble she'd dragged him into along with her.

Thomas shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his shoes. Moving slowly. Trying to appear as normal and non-threatening as he could. Gently, he freed her arms of her coat and guided her to a chair. Sitting her down at the kitchen table, he got her a glass of water. He noticed how badly her hands shook as she lifted the glass to her lips and drank it down.

He gave Jan a few minutes to settle before he approached her, busying himself in the kitchen by making some tea. Her eyes nervously followed him as he slid the teabags out of the way and reached in the back of the cabinet for a tin of the Shaman's secret blend of herbs. She was petrified, trembling beneath her soiled sweatshirt, past the point of regaining her composure without some help from the herbs. The tea would take the burn out of her wounds and ease the swelling in her ankle, and it would help her to clam down enough to tell him what was going on.

Jan was on the verge of hysterics by the time the kettle whistled and Thomas thrust a mug of hot tea into her hands. She was touched by his concern and kindness. He was gentle and kind to her. She tried to compose her thoughts enough to thank him. But, he cut her off, guiding the mug to her lips with his fingertips firmly wrapped around hers.

"Drink," Thomas softly commanded. He exhaled in relief when she swallowed down some of the tea. He left her side long enough to get a fresh towel out of the cabinet and wet it under the tap. Noticing the wayward tear that made a clean path down her cheek, he didn't say anything more. He knelt down next to her, gently swabbing the dried blood with the moist end of the towel.

"Thomas, don't." Once he cleaned the blood away, she'd have even more explaining to do. She got up to escape to the bathroom. Surely a doctor would have some medical tape and a stray piece of gauze in the cabinet. She'd patch herself up and hide the evidence behind the gauze. He'd never know.

"Shh." Thomas gently secured Jan's chin with his fingers. Gingerly, dabbing at the blood. "I've seen worse." And he had. Usually people he saw needed more than a piece of gauze and some antibiotic cream. They needed trauma pads to soak up blood, IV drips, and defibrillators. He frowned as the last layer of crusted blood was swabbed away. He pretended not to notice that the long gash in her cheek had practically healed. He expected raw and exposed edges, and maybe, the need for a few skin sutures to hold the torn pieces of flesh together. The edges of the wound were raw and raised, looking as if the injury were several days old instead of brand new. "It's not so bad," he said softly. He got up and tossed the towel into the laundry room. The questions would wait. Hell, the thoughts running through his mind weren't really questions. Whatever her answers were would just confirm what he'd just figured out. Jan wasn't human.

Jan expected Thomas to bombard her with questions. Asking why she'd healed so quickly. Instead, he got on his knees and eased her foot out of her boot. Carefully, with skilled hands, he inspected her damaged ankle. Skin was quick to heal. Bones would heal within a week or so, faster if she changed shape. A normal person would heal within six to eight weeks, maybe more. But, she wasn't normal. She wasn't human. And even though he said nothing. He had to have figured it out.

Thomas rolled up her pants leg and peeled off her sock. Gently, evaluating the swelling and range of motion in the joint. He winced when she did, as he rolled her ankle to the right and applied pressure. "Without an x-ray, I can't say for sure. But, I think you broke your ankle."

Jan felt a surge of calm, unusual given her circumstances, roll through her body. Thomas had gone through so much trouble and she'd really put him out. Pushing their casual sex relationship well past their established boundaries. Even though, she hadn't particularly cared for the bitter, mint taste of the tea, she drained the cup. She took his outstretched hand and let him pull her onto her wobbly legs.

"We need to get that ankle elevated and iced." He glanced over Jan's shoulder, noticing the empty mug that sat on the kitchen table. "I don't suppose I could talk you into going to the ER for x-rays."

Jan bit her lip and rested her weight on Thomas's shoulder. "No." She pulled against him as he guided her to the couch. His couch sat in front of a huge bay window. One crack in the curtains and she could be easily spotted. "Too many windows," she said shaking her head.

"Ok. You can use my old bedroom. The bed is only a twin. But, it sleeps comfortably enough," he said. Helping Jan hop step into the bedroom he'd converted into a makeshift study and guest room, he kept his questions to himself. Right now, he needed her to focus on healing and trusting him to help get her out of whatever she'd gotten herself into.

The dim light of a screen saver illuminated the room. Perfect. She could hop on the Internet and scope out the first bus out of town. The room sported one small window, covered tightly by a pair of tightly pulled shut, thick drapes. Perfect. She sighed gratefully as Thomas gently dropped her onto the twin-sized bed and propped up her foot on a stack of pillows.

"I'll be back in a minute." Thomas disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. He'd always suspected Jan was something other than she appeared. He was a fucking paranormal magnet. If it were fanged or furry, it always attached itself to him. The question was...what was she? The cut was healing abnormally fast. And if he had to guess, her ankle would be healed before the end of the week. He hovered in indecision debating on whether to call the brothers or the Pack. Who knew...the fanged and furry had found him. Maybe, she was fey or something else otherworldly. Made sense, to him. Why. The. Hell. Not? The freaky paranormal party never stopped at Thomas Sterling's house of the damned.

Jan scrambled onto her good leg and hobbled over to the computer. Thwarted from Internet access by password protection, she made a couple of random attempts to guess his password. Unsuccessfully. Smiling lamely as he came into the room with a bag from the freezer wrapped in a towel, she shrugged and mumbled, "Sorry," as she hobbled over to the bed.

"No problem. I'll get you logged in. After you ice that ankle for a while." He urged her onto her back onto and propped up her foot on a pillow. Carefully, wrapping her ankle with a towel, he applied the bag of peas to the swelling.

"Peas?" Jan asked. Resting on her elbows as she looked down at his makeshift first aid.

"Don't like 'em anyway," Thomas joked half-heartedly. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to know. But, he didn't want the next paranormal shit storm to hit land on his front stoop either. "Jan, what's going on?"

Jan shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." And he wouldn't. Who would? She was a thing of myth and folklore. What was happening to her, what she was, didn't happen to regular people. He'd have her locked up in the psych ward if she so much as breathed one word of the truth. The less he knew, the better.

"You'd be surprised what I'd believe." He took her hand and intertwined her fingers through his. God, he hated it when he was right. Just once, he didn't want to be right. What could he say? He was as reluctant to confess to her as she was to him. What would she think of him, if she the truth about him? "Jan, I can keep a secret."

"If I don't tell you, you don't have to." Jan slid her fingers free from Thomas's. She'd already asked too much. And she had one more favor to ask of him. "I need a ride to the bus station as soon as it opens in the morning."

"Ok. Going on a trip?" Thomas readjusted the thawing bag of peas across her ankle. Given the size of the bag she'd packed and the urgency in which she fled her apartment, and her panic, she was definitely running. And he doubted if her bus itinerary would include a return ticket.

"Something like that." Jan winced as his fingers brushed across a particularly sensitive place on her ankle. She found herself wanting to confide in Thomas. But, how could he possibly believe her? She didn't doubt that he could keep secrets. Hers would sound more like a delusional fantasy than fact.

"You're not planning on coming back, are you? You're running," Thomas said. Judging the expression on her face, he was right.

"I don't have a choice." Jan quavered on spilling the beans and telling him everything. Even if he didn't believe her and she ended up on a locked psych unit. At least if she were there, her fate would be her own.

"Yes you do. Give me a try. I can help you." Thomas worried that she was involved in something dangerous and that she was in way over her head. He had contacts. If nothing else, he could use them to get her to someplace safe.

"No, Thomas. No you can't. Nobody can."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that? Jan, you can't spend your whole life running. At some point, you're going to have to trust somebody." He scooted closer and pulled a throw over her shoulders.

"I suppose you're right about that." Jan scooted up in the bed and leaned against a pillow. She couldn't believe she was about to spill the secret she'd kept bottled up and hidden for her entire life. And that she was bout to share it with her holiday guy. The man she loved and hated with the same white-hot passion. There was no point to lie to herself about how she felt about him, not at this stage in the game. Tomorrow, as soon as the bus pulled out of town. She'd be on it and she'd never see him again anyway. So, her feelings made little difference in the grand scheme of things.

Jan took a deep breath and pondered where to start and how much to tell. "Thomas, have you ever heard of eugenics? The hooking up of two people, based on specific genetic attributes?" She went on as Thomas shot her a confused frown. "Thomas, I have a fiancée, a man I've never met and could never love. Yet, I'm supposed to marry him."

"Your family expects this of you?" Thomas asked. His fingers wound in the fringed edge of the blanket, twisting the fragile tassels around his knuckles as he thought. No wonder she was running. No wonder, she'd kept him and everyone else at arm's length. She was terrified.

"No, Thomas, my family doesn't expect it. They demand it." Jan curled her good leg up under her chin and rested her healed cheek on her knee. "I've never been much for conformity or duty. I don't give a damn about carrying on the family line. I didn't want what they had planned for me. So I ran."

"And you're running again." Thomas looked up to meet her eyes. Seeing the truth of his statement echoed inside of their brown depths.

"Yes. I have to. Thomas, they've found me. When I realized that it wasn't you who sent the roses. I realized that it had to be them and they sent the flowers as a warning. They're coming for me. I knew my family would spare no expense to find me." She shrugged, "I guess my DNA is worth a lot.

"As a firstborn daughter, my die was cast before I drew my first breath. Just as his was when he drew his. Firstborn male to firstborn female, the strongest to the strongest, he was brokered same as me, and the marriage arranged. Neither one of us ever had a choice."

"Why? There's more than enough genetic diversity in humanity," Thomas stammered. He couldn't imagine what kind of families would do that to their children. The concept wasn't foreign. Hitler had done the same thing decades ago when he tried to engineer a 'Master Race'. Royal families had arranged marriages for centuries, brokering off their children for position and wealth. But, in this day and age, he could not grasp the concept of it happening or stomach that her family had pushed her to the point where she felt that she had to run away because she had no other choice.

"Not in my kind there's not. Thomas." Jan took a deep breath. She was committed to her story. Bound by what she'd already told him, which was way too much, to finish it. "Look at me." She placed her fingers to his cheek and turned his head gently toward her. "I'm not human."

Thomas blew out a breath. He believed her, completely. He reached out his fingers and smoothed them along the puckered line on her cheek. Of course, she wasn't human. He was hip deep in the supernatural long before she came along. He was looking for the June Cleaver type. The completely human kind of girl he could take home to mom. Naturally. He was falling for something, someone, that wasn't anymore closely related to him genetically than a frog or a dandelion. "I guessed that."