After Dawn, What Came Next

Cat snorted at Tom’s disgruntled question. After all, how was she supposed to know the pack would take such offense to the idea of going Vegan? She was trying to save lives, not only those of the animals in the woods but of the pack as well. All that cholesterol and red meat the pack consumed in mass quantities couldn’t be healthy for them. “Grant Thomas, you would bring that up again wouldn’t you. No, I promise this time it’ll be different.”

Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep steadying breath. GT would follow Cat to the ends of the known universe and beyond if he thought it would make her notice him as something other than a friend. Cat barely realized anyone or anything existed beyond her most recent pet cause. Today’s theme was a simple one and he wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment of making love not war. As if a peaceable protest no matter how well intended the cause would really stop the fight for pack master.

She had this brilliant idea that they were going to sit in a circle in the middle of the bluffs soaked in mud and half freezing and that somehow everyone else would come to their senses, join in, sing kumbayah around the campfire, and all would be well with the world. It so wasn’t happening. But, here he was with the rest of the circus, like an idiot, following the head clown into the ring.

Cat had been born about seventy years too late. This was not the summer of love. Perhaps, the spring of his greatest discontent, but hardly 1967. Cat was a flower child to the very sole of her vintage Birkenstock sandals. She doodled peace signs and scrounged through musty boxes searching for treasure from a forgotten era. She even had a lava lamp on her nightstand, not that he would know personally. Nobody in their right mind, especially a male, even a guy like him, would traverse her inner sanctum and risk the wrath of her father. He would like to blame her father for her lofty ideals. But, the Great Father was hardly the free love, live and let live type.

Ray felt sorry for her. Cat was a star child from another time, trapped in the present, with the burden of the future riding on her shoulders. She had trained for war since the time she could toddle and wanted nothing but peace. She was born a princess to a kingdom without a throne. She had no tiara, but a floppy suede hat with a wide brim she had rescued from the bottom of a bin in a resale shop.

Her father would wrap her from head to toe in bubble wrap and lock her up in a tower well out of reach of the world, if he could. She was perhaps the most protected woman in the world and therefore completely off limits. That he knew of she had never been out on a date in her life. Nobody was crazy enough to risk the brothers or more importantly her father, to ask. Cat never left the compound unguarded. She had grown up surrounded by warriors willing to risk their lives for her.

The brothers doted on her and in so many ways each and every one of them was a father to her. From the back row, in the cheap seats, he could see the warriors’ influence on her. She was lethal with blade and body from John Mark’s relentless training. She was wickedly smart from the hours of study she had spent under Will’s careful instruction. She was a whiz at anything electronic with a motherboard thanks to Toby’s patient teaching. Cat could field dress a wound and probably cure death itself thanks to the hours she spent training with Doc, the Shaman. She could track a flea for miles in the middle of the Sahara, a little something she had picked up from Patrick. And those were just a few of the things she had learned from her father’s side of the family.

The pack treated her with no small matter of indifference either. Their methods were no more or less unorthodox than those of the brotherhoods’. Her wolf was sleek and dark as midnight. A powerful creature as deadly as the pack master, her grandfather, himself. With a bullet, she could pick off a housefly sitting on a fence from fifty meters away, thanks to hours of instruction from Hunter. She could assemble an engine in her sleep with one hand tied behind her back, something she had learned from Tristen. She could plot and plan, strategize and played a mean game of chess, Tracker would accept no less from her.

Cat was fast and strong, light on her feet, versatile in her fighting style and a thing of beauty to watch in the sparring ring. For all she was, there was one thing she was not. Free. She could do all these amazing things, but there was one thing she could not do, simply be herself. Watching her quivering with anticipation in the cold of dawn, so eager to do something to change the world and make her mark on it broke his heart. She was so idealistic. She didn’t realize she couldn’t change over two hundred years of hard won tradition with old-fashioned poster board and markers. No one would be holding hands on the bluffs today.

Danni rubbed her eyes and tried to work up some enthusiasm for her cousin’s efforts. Cat sat plopped down in the middle of the clearing drawing peace signs in colored marker on scraps of poster board she had salvaged from the attic. Cat really didn’t get it. Danni blamed her grandfather for this fiasco that was Cat’s idealism. Having lived through them, the sixties were his specialty and he had filled Cat’s head with stories of social change and revolution brought about by protests.

Strangely though, Cat had drawn quite a following this morning. Probably, everyone wanted to get the best position possible to view the fight and was here under the guise of a peaceable protest. Tom, Grant Thomas rather, GT for short, was following Cat around like a lost puppy, nothing unusual there. Ray, Ramon Junior, RJ as his mom and dad called him, watched Tom with a wistful expression of longing in his eye. What he was, covertly, wasn’t forbidden. She just wondered if Tom had a clue and what he would do about it if he did.

Phoenix was trying desperately to build a small fire in the center of all the chaos to chase off the chill. Too bad she didn’t live up to her namesake and had managed to accomplish nothing but a pile of smoldering chokingly smoky wood.

They laughingly called themselves the baby boomers. Born at the tail end of the war with the rogues, she, Phoenix, Tom, Ray, Cat, Barbara, and Claire were all roughly the same age. Her great grandfather and almost everybody else called them the brat pack. Unfortunately, most of the time, like today, he was right. Danni would like to think the trouble they somehow managed to get into was all Cat’s fault. But, who was the bigger fool? The fool or the fool that followed him?

Cat was just a misguided visionary, a rebel without a cause or a clue. Danni got it. They all understood why Cat did the things she did. The protests, the speeches that lasted well into the middle of the night, and her constant bantering for change was just the way Cat exercised what little control she had over the world and her life.

Cat’s most recent crusade, the meat is murder fiasco, had almost gotten them all ran out of town on a rail. Cat couldn’t have foreseen the impact of attempting to ban meat from a bunch of carnivores. Thank God Cat’s father had intervened on their behalf and talked the pack down. At his careful instruction, Dane had conjured up some interesting punishments to keep them out of further trouble. Scrubbing the exterior of a four-story, ten thousand square foot home with nothing more than a toothbrush, a bottle of dish soap, and a garden hose hadn’t been the worst of it.

Barbara snickered at Cat’s failed attempt to draw a pair of hands encircling the world. Her dad would be proud of Cat’s efforts. Somewhat of a visionary himself, he always spoke of peace and healing. She wished she were at home tucked into her bed with the rest of her family instead of being out here freezing off her ass. But, quite frankly, she was pack and she had a vested interest in the outcome.

She still lived in the world outside of the pack boundaries. Poor relation was what she considered herself. Her grandmother was a vampire, her father human, and her mom, one hundred percent wolf. And what did that make her? A wolf in a very human skin. She was somewhat of a misfit with one foot in each world but a firm foothold in none of them. The least she could do was support her friends. Who knew? Maybe, this time, it would work. She had never told Cat, but she still ate meat and probably always would. Tofu versus steak? Was there really any contest?

Claire frowned at Ray and motioned for him to see if there was anything he could do to salvage the smoldering remains of Phoenix’s fire. A bit of a pyromaniac, she was certain he would come up with something. She had little hope that Cat’s idea would work, but a little hope was better than none. Soon, her grandfather and her half-sister would arrive and the contest would begin.

There was no way of talking her dad into doing something to stop the fight. There wasn’t anything he could do except accept the challenge himself in his father’s place. She couldn’t ask him to do such a thing. Blood was thicker than water, but she was unsure how deep it ran. If a little handholding and a few corny chants would stop her grandfather and her half-sister from killing one another she was all for it. Cat claimed it had worked in the past. Claire had done a little research, but she wasn’t about to burst Cat’s bubble by mentioning the Kent State Riot of 1970 and the dozens of other riots of the 60’s that hadn’t exactly turned out peaceful. She put the finishing touches on her sign and held it up for Cat’s approval. “What do you think?”

Cat smiled and nodded out of all her friends perhaps, Clare and Thomas were her biggest supporters. When the time came though, they would all stand behind her. “It’s perfect.” She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. These people, this small band of mostly like minded individuals had a common goal. They were family, they were her friends, and they did not want to stand here and do nothing and watch somebody die for the sake of tradition.

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, streaking the sky with shades of gold, purple, and vibrant pink intermixed with fluffy white clouds and brilliant blue. “Ok, you guys, hold hands,” Cat directed. Tom stood on her right and Ray on the right of him, the next to form the circle was Phoenix, then Barbara joined in, Claire and to the immediate left of her, closing the circle and clasping her hand with chilly fingers stood Danni.

Seven people nobody really took seriously against the entire paranormal world and two hundred years of tradition. It didn’t seem like the odds were in their favor, but maybe, just maybe she would earn the name her parents had given her. Hope Catori Nakoma, Great Warrior Spirit, as it meant in the ancient tongue.

Chapter 7

John Mark paced the shadows at the border of the woods watching Cat round up her band of protestors into a circle. A protest? He could throttle Hunter for introducing her to the concepts of the 1960’s. What was next? Orgies in the grass? Smoking pot? Tattoos? Thank God she hadn’t fallen in love with the eighties or worse, the nineties. He would wring her neck himself if she ever thought about getting her tongue pierced.

What in the hell was he going to do to stop this most recent in a long line of fiascos? Cat was like a daughter to him and to most of the warriors at the compound. He could barely contain the impulse to toss her over his shoulder and lock her in her room for the rest of her natural life.

Cat was not a little girl anymore. She was well out of the pigtails and frilly pink dresses stage. It made his fangs ache to see her as an adult and female. And it made him want to storm across the field and poke GT’s eyes out for ogling her curves. She was not a sensual being, she was asexual as an earthworm and the closest he would ever come to having a daughter of his own.

Where in the hell was her father? Tala was her mother, but she was as capable of controlling her daughter as a weatherman was of diffusing a hurricane. Cat was a daddy’s girl to her core. Drew had the ‘look’ down pat. The sudden flash of an eye or twitch of a finger that was capable of bringing whatever Cat had in mind to an immediate halt. Well Drew didn’t have much time to stop this before it spiraled out of control. Dane slipped up behind him and exhaled heavily though his clenched teeth. John Mark at a loss asked, “What do you think we should do?”

Dane grunted and scowled at the circle of bodies. Children, adult or not, were not his area of expertise. He would just as soon haul Cat off the bluffs by force than try to reason with her. Obviously, his attempt at disciplining the group had failed. Scrubbing down the pack home with toothbrushes had not curbed their rampant disregard for rules or the order of things.

What were they going to do? Not his call. They were going to do nothing and let their parents handle them. Cat was pack and vampire, and she had the right, as well as the rest of them did, to be here. He couldn’t fault her reasoning only her methods. He remembered every drop of blood that had been shed on the bluffs and the causes for which it had been spilled. He didn’t want to watch it either, but stopping the contest was not his place. If blood was to be shed to determine the future, it would be shed and there was nothing anyone was going to do to prevent it. “Nothing,” he gritted. “Absolutely nothing.”

It was clear to him that Cat needed a cause bigger than herself to believe in. It was also evident to him that the woods she had lived in her entire life had grown too small to contain her. It wasn’t that she was unhappy. There was just a much bigger world out there for her to explore than the one her father had provided her with. In essence, Cat needed the apron strings cut so that she could complete the task of growing up.

At her age he…well he had been her age a very, very long time ago. The world was different now. Children didn’t grow up as quickly as they once had and that was a good and a bad thing. Cat was an adult. It was time for her to decide things for herself and make her own path in the world.

Drew watched Cat prepare to do her worst. Tala had slipped up behind him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She was terrified for her father. This morning might be the last time she ever saw him alive. The fight was going to be bloody and painful. There was nothing he could do about that. This was the way of the pack. The young replaced the old. He had to allow the contest to take place. The pack was not a democracy. There was a pecking order to things and as much as he didn’t like it, this was just the way things were.

Tala had been on the bluffs before. Standing in the center of the ring of bodies contemplating her death. Ultimately, she had fought Grant, but she hadn’t had to die to keep the pack in her father’s hands. The earth had tasted her blood and had hopefully drunk its fill. This morning the ground was thirsty again. There would be blood and plenty of it.

Mouse was her niece, by pack law she was doing what she thought was the right thing to do and what she had been raised to do. She wanted no more part of it than Tala had, back when she had stood in the ring. Some things were the way they were and there was no changing them. Tala had fought for the life of one man.

Mouse was fighting for the lives of the pack. If she lost, she would die. Someone would step up to challenge Nash for the title again. If Mouse won, her father would be dead and she would earn the security of the pack for generations to come. No matter what the outcome, nobody would risk the pack falling into the wrong hands. Even if it meant Tala had to go into the ring again to ensure it didn’t.

She felt the ripple of tension in Drew’s shoulders. He bristled with energy. He was going to go out there and haul their daughter off the bluffs by force. It would humiliate Cat and perhaps alienate her from him forever. Tala believed it was best to let this play out. Maybe it was time for the old ways to be banished and for a new era of tradition to begin. She had named her daughter Hope for a good reason. So much rode on the narrow shoulders of youth. She squeezed her fingers into the bunched muscles of his forearm. “Leave her alone.”

Drew didn’t want this for his daughter. With all the tension and preternatural energy rippling through the core of the very earth itself, the pack might very well tear her to shreds. They were revved up for the fight. So much rode on the outcome. He was about to storm across the wide expanse of ground and drag Cat off by force when Tala’s grip on his arm stopped him. He had always been reluctant to see Cat suffer one second’s worth of pain. He would spare her any of it that he could. He was also too reluctant to let her grow up. He wanted her safe, sheltered, and secure. How could he do that without standing to the side and letting her experience all of life’s hurts? He couldn’t.

Tala had been on him for months about sending Cat away. Turning her over to Carter’s safekeeping so that she could explore the bigger world. Carter would see to her safety with his own life. Drew had no doubt about that. Carter was here, brooding somewhere in the woods, as was his way. The man had come without question or complaint at Drew’s request. Drew would have to play this just right to convince Cat to leave. Pretend to be the overprotective father, just once more. Not that it was that difficult of a role for him to play. Carter had no idea of why Drew had called him. But, he was about to find out. “It’s time isn’t it?”

Tala nodded and gave Drew a hesitant smile. Drew wasn’t talking about the fight. He was talking about setting their little girl free to find her place in the world. It pained her to set Cat free, but keeping her here was to stifle the woman she had yet to become. “Yes, it is.”

Chapter 8

Marianne bent to kiss her girls on their soft cheeks. Their skin was warm with the haze of dreams in contrast to her cool, reality chilled lips. In a little bit Evan would tickle them awake, feed them something quick for breakfast, and bundle them up in warm clothes for the trip to the bluffs.

She gave Evan a ghost of a smile as she dressed for the hike. Beneath her sweatpants and jacket she wore as little as possible. Getting tangled in her clothing during a shift could give her grandfather the advantage he needed to take her out. The stitching in the clothes was weak, designed to break away under stress. The shorts and tank top bra were paper-thin on purpose and would tear to give her wolf maximum freedom of movement. Seconds would count. The contest might come down to which one of them could shift the fastest and regain control in order to sink deadly teeth into flesh first.

Evan had done his best to brush away the wayward strands of her cut hair. She self-consciously scratched at the nape of her neck. Marianne didn’t have the heart to say goodbye to him. She simply refused to accept the eventuality of the fight. There was still a part of her that had not given up on the possibility that there was another solution to this mess. “Evan, I…I mean if…”

Evan cut Marianne off with the gentle press of a fingertip against her lips. There was no need for goodbyes. She wasn’t going to die today. If he had his way about things she would never die. But, that was a little bit out of his sphere of control. He saw her in his dreams as an old woman many years from now and him, in the rocking chair by her side. He truly didn’t know what was going to happen. Whatever it was. Whatever today brought. It was going to change the future forever. Of that, he was absolutely certain. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and gave her a smile. He hoped it was genuine or at least genuine enough to hide his worry. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”