Dawn's Darkest Hour

"Cole, I know everything about you."

Cole stiffened and turned to glare at David over his shoulder. He could feel David in his head. Probably the same way David could feel him in his. The two hadn't talked about the blood link between them. Not so much as a whisper had been mentioned. Without his secrets a man wasn't much. Maybe it was some macho truce between them as members of the male species that had made the topic so taboo. "Then you know that no amount of talking is going to change my mind." Cole turned and leaned back on his heels, to glare at David. He had one card up his sleeve that nobody could trump. Nobody. "I'm nineteen, an adult, and I make my own decisions."

"What if you're wrong?" David let his fangs drop. He could feel the sharp points tickle the edge of his bottom lip. Without the mask he'd worked so many years to develop. He knew exactly what Cole saw in him, a lethal predator. "I seem to remember, not more than a few days ago, you chose death over this life and now you run to embrace it? You've seen the world though my eyes. Tell me what did you learn?"

"Nothing," Cole said bravely. He jutted out his chin in defiance. David was not going to scare him into changing his mind. He wasn't going back. For once in his life, he'd found something to believe in and letting it go wasn't an option. "You're not going to do shit to me."

David circled Cole. His boots made a soft, hollow sounding thump against the floor as he walked. "Have you ever been hungry, Cole? Starving?" David pushed back the guilt, rising like bile in his throat. He hated the image of himself that he saw reflected in Cole's wide eyes. It sickened him. Intimidation and fear were powerful motivators. To get Cole in the truck and on the interstate and home to his mother in one piece was worth the loss of a friendship. "I can hear your heart pounding. Your terror smells like a buffet to me. I could drop you where you stand before the brothers even noticed. You know it. Don't play with something you can't possibly understand, Cole. Go. Home.

"Do you like pain? Cole, the tiny sample I gave you was just a taste. Assuming you survive the trials and go through with this. Consider it a preview of worse things to come. You don't know everything, yet. The transformation is a level of hell you can't begin to comprehend." David saw Cole flinch at the memory of his experience. The determined set of his jaw and the tick of the muscle beneath showed just how determined Cole was to go through with this.

David saw Rachael's cross dangle on the leather strap around Cole's neck, dancing with the bounding of each pulse. He switched tactics. "Who do you think the Sons are, Cole? I'll tell you. They're exactly like me. Exactly like the bastard who murdered Rachel. Vampires. Don't you get it? We can say anything we like. Water down and romanticize what we are. But, when it comes right down to it. We're all one in the same. We all need the same basic thing to live. Blood, Cole. Human. Blood. Your blood."

Cole planted his feet firmly on the floor. His instinct screamed at him to run away like a sissy girl. After all he had seen he should be terrified and to a certain degree, he was. He'd be stupid to underestimate David or to underestimate any of the brothers. Stubbornly, he held his ground and leveled his gaze to meet David's in a brazen display of defiance. Ballsy? yes. Dumb? Maybe. Necessary? Definitely. David could flash his fangs and flap his gums all night if he wanted to. Wasn't going to change a thing.

David slid back into the mask of an eighteen year-old boy, as familiar and comfortable as a second skin to him at this point. He'd tried threatening and frightening Cole into changing his mind and gotten nowhere. He wasn't going to beg Cole to remain human. "You've made your decision then," David said in resignation. Short of tossing Cole over his shoulder and carrying him to the truck, there wasn't much else he could do. He frowned as Cole nodded. "Fine. Do it. You don't need my permission by any means. Throw your life away. Just do me a favor before you do, okay?"

Cole eased out a breath and glared. "What?"

"Say goodbye to your mother. You don't have to tell her anything. In fact, the less she knows, the better. Just...let her know you're alive."

Cole nodded. This one request seemed so important to David. David was across the gym and half way out of the door before Cole could blink. So much for long drawn out awkward moments between the two of them. He drew in a breath. Suffering had made them brothers of a sort. David was the closest thing he'd ever had to a best friend. "David..." Nervously, he shifted his weight on the soles of his feet and stared across the wide expanse of the gym stretched between them. David stared back. There were lots of things they could say. But, one they wouldn't. Goodbye. "You'll know...when the time comes...when I... change...right?"

David gripped the cold, steel handle of the door with his fingers. He took a long

look at the boy who had transformed into a man in the blink of an eye. The birth date on Cole's drivers license had nothing to do with the transformation from boy to man. By choosing the path he had, Cole had proven himself an adult. Although, David might not, and didn't agree with his decision, he respected it. "Yeah, I'll know." He turned and walked through the door. The heavy, steel door clanged shut with a resounding bang behind him. Rocky corridors stretched out like fingers dug into the earth ahead of him. Choosing the one that led to the way out, he turned and walked to the truck, alone.

John Mark slid back into the shadows. David had done the one thing he could not, cracked the boy's hard outer shell and exposed what lay beneath. Now, he could begin to mold Cole into the warrior he'd someday become.

Chapter 98

The airport was a mess of insanity as passengers rushed about. Some were going. Others like him were coming. The plane landed with a gut-wrenching shudder. The passengers had disembarked and now Robert was working his way through a wall-to-wall madhouse of weary travelers. He hated to fly. He had nothing with him but his carry on bag. Loaded as full as he could stuff it, the bag banged heavily against his shoulder blades with each step he took deeper into the maze of the airport.

Could he say it was a good thing to be back on familiar turf? Nope. Even if the circumstances were happy ones. The journey back home again would be anything but a dreamily reminiscent trip to yesteryear. He leaned on the counter impatiently waiting for the clerk to run his credit card and assign him a get away car. Anxious to be away from all these people crammed inside like sardines in a can, he drummed his fingertips on the counter. Nauseated by the stink of the city, which seemed to permeate its way through the layers of glass and concrete straight into his sinus cavity and deafened by the constant roar of vehicles and people everywhere, he turned to watch the circus.

He was a native of this city. At one time, he considered this bustling metropolis his home. Things changed. He was a foreigner in a strange land. After years of seclusion amongst the quiet of the woods, the city was a strange land indeed. Nodding, he took the keys from the clerk and scribbled his signature across the bottom of the rental agreement. Sure. Whatever. What she was prattling on about? He had no idea. Distracted as he was he hadn't heard a word she'd said. The need to get out of this place and go...where? Anyplace else, he guessed, was good.

He wound his way through the crowd and exhaled in relief when the doors whisked open, spewing him forth onto the sidewalk. Robert took the wheel and navigated through the maze of traffic. It didn't take long before his escape ground to a halt. Damn, the city had changed over the years. He scanned the skyline looming over the endless line of traffic, searching for anything that looked familiar. Disgruntled with his lack of a sense of direction. He grappled with the complementary map of the city left in the glove box by the rental company. His eyes followed the spider web of interlocking lines on the map. Finally, they traced the route he needed to take. Gingerly, he inched the car forward and put on the turn signal to change lanes.

Robert battled his way through rush hour traffic and by sheer dumb luck made it to the expressway actually headed in the right direction. Blowing out a relieved sigh, he rolled down the window and let the chilly wind dance across his face. He should call Jess and let her know that he was in town. He didn't want to make things worse for her though. She'd taken a big enough step in contacting him in the first place.

His eyes scanned the endless neighborhoods to the left and right of the expressway. He could look for Cole. But, he'd have no idea of where to begin. His fingers locked around the wheel in a tight grip. What was he doing here anyway? Did he think that somehow he could magically conjure up his missing son? Would bringing Cole home be a big enough act of contrition to make up for all the times he should have been there and wasn't?

Robert guessed that just by being here, he felt useful in some way. Empowered to help instead of feeling helpless, tucked away in his hobbit hole in the woods. When he'd first suggested the idea to Jess, she'd looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Sell everything they had, which wasn't much at the time, and move across the country with a brand new baby and no particular destination except for away in mind. To her, the concept seemed absolute lunacy. To him, it was paradise. She never understood. He didn't know how to explain it. Ultimately, his dream became a wedge between them. They divorced, she remarried, and he'd found a safe haven away from it all.

Being back here, ground to a halt by the bumper-to-bumper traffic, gave him lots of time to think. Brought a lot of buried feelings back to the surface too. Things he only allowed his mind to contemplate on cold, lonely nights. He still cared for Jess and for a moment permitted his memory to relish in the good times they'd had together. Wasn't that a pointless gesture if there was one? He hadn't moved on, just away.

Robert wove through a line of semi trailers, hauling loads of unimaginable goods to parts of the country unknown and exited the expressway. His mouth was dry and the steering wheel griped tightly in his gloved hands. A tremor of trepidation inched its way down his spine. He'd hidden from everyone, even from himself, for so long. The courage that seemed like an invincible shield back home wavered in the bustle of the city. He could find his son, if he could hold out against the fear inside of him.

Chapter 99

Carter pried Yessette's arms from around his neck. For hours, he'd done his best to quiet her with no avail. She'd simply been inconsolable, trembling in terror. Blathering about Hunters and sobbing till his shirt was wet from her tears. "Yessette, those days are long behind us. There are no hunters. Humans have forgotten us."

O'Sullivan leaned on the mantle of the fireplace and chuckled under his breath. "No, humans worship us. They want to be us. That's the one good thing Roark accomplished in his long miserable life. He managed to glorify our kind. Yessette, we've come a long way since the days of rioting townsfolk with pitchforks. The media paints us in a very different light in these modern times. Roark was a genius."

Yessette sniveled and lifted her face from Carter's shirt. "You mean it? We're safe?"

"As a babe in its mother's arms," Eric replied smugly. He leaned against the rough brick front of the fireplace and ignored the glare Carter cast at him over Yessette's pretty blonde head.

" We're quite safe from the humans, at least." Carter shifted Yessette's weight on his lap. Her hair was soft against his fingertips. He coddled her the way one would coddle a frightened child. To him, he couldn't see her as anything but a child trapped in a woman's body. She didn't understand the world and had no place in it, in either worlds. He found himself mourning her loss all over again. Everyday that passed, he knew what he needed to do and cursed himself for not having the strength to see it through to the end.

Yessette shifted in Carter's lap, searching his face for the truth of his words. "Are we in danger?" Tears of terror welled in her eyes.

"Stop it, you're scaring her," Eric chastised. He pushed away from the fireplace with the sole of his boot and glided across the room. Yessette's face was beginning to cloud, like the sky before an oncoming storm. She was such a fragile thing, easily knocked off kilter. Carter was the eager prophet of gloom and doom. Spewing prophesy from his putrid mouth. Eric wouldn't have Yessette upset. When she smiled, his whole world lit up. He'd spent centuries protecting her, cleaning up after her, righting every wrong, and hiding her every mistake. He wouldn't stand for Carter to hurt his Yessette. Gently, he ran his hands over her head and cupped her chin with his broad palms. "You're safe, Yessette. Haven't I always kept you safe?"

"Yes," Yessette answered. Her bottom lip trembled in fear of the unknown. Eric had always kept danger far from her. He was her provider and her protector and she loved him for it. "What if you're not there?"

"Yessette, I'll always be here." Eric released her chin and reached deep into a pocket of his suit jacket. "I've got just the thing to cheer you up." The pendant dangled off the end of a gold chain. A deep crimson stone in the center twinkled and reflected the dim flames from the fireplace. A ring of diamonds encrusted in gold surrounded the stone, lending prisms of color to the dazzling display. He draped the chain around Yessette's neck and locked the clasp with agile fingers. The pendant rested between the cradle of her breasts, sheltered by the mounds of flesh therein. Bravely and gently as a lover, he traced the trail of the chain down to the pendant and ran his fingertip over the stones. "Isn't that better?"

Yessette stared down at the pendant. She suspended the pendant between two fingers and let it dangle from the chain admiring the sparkle "It's beautiful. Oh thank you, Eric." The trauma of the day seeped from her consciousness quickly forgotten. She hopped off Carter's lap and reached to give her protector a kiss. Beneath her lips, his muscles twitched.

Eric stroked the small of Yessette's back with his fingers. Relishing the feel of the gentle arch and curve of her buttocks beneath her clothes. Her wide smile melted his heart. Whatever she thought she saw was forgotten about now. Replaced by a shiny bauble. "Why don't you go upstairs and wash away all those tears. I'll bet you've got a dress that'll match that new necklace to perfection." He grinned at her eager nod. If only joy was so easily purchased for himself as it was for her. He shooed her toward the stairway with a soft pat on her butt.

Carter ground his molars at the sickening display. Yessette acted like a child. She was as easily distracted as a child. But, she wasn't a child. If ever there were a more efficient killer than she, he'd never met him. It was difficult to see through her beauty and perfect innocence. To look deep down inside of her to the murder that lurked behind those curves, soft waves of spun golden hair, and the drowning pools of her blue eyes. More difficult was to watch the way O'Sullivan caved in her presence. She was poison to the both of them. An agonizing reminder of what he'd lost, for him, and a bitter representation of what Eric couldn't have. "She'll be the death of us yet."

Eric chuckled, "Shall we go see what sent our little Achilles heel into such a frenzy?" From the first moment he saw Yessette. He knew he had a weakness for her. She was just a little wraith, starving on the streets of London. Even then, she knew how to use her body, her greatest weapon, against a man. He'd let her pick his pockets clean simply because she interested him so. And, even four hundred years later, she still picked his pockets empty. He saw her first, but Carter was the one to capture the heart he'd been so desperate to enslave.

Carter grunted and grabbed his leather coat off the antique stand. Antique? Hell, he was older than anything in this place, older than the city itself. He slung the heavy coat over his shoulder and followed O'Sullivan out into the dimming light of the city. Guilt bound him to Yessette and Eric knew it. As long as O'Sullivan had Yessette, he had him firmly by the balls.

Chapter 100

"You know you're named after an archangel?" Bianca leaned against the corner of her desk and rested the toe of her boot against the arm of a chair. She'd never been so attracted to a man before. "The commander of God's army, protector of His people. Somehow, I think the name suits you."

Michael stiffened in the confines of his leathers. A shapely length of calf cinched in a tight leather boot rested against his upper arm. His demeanor was all business, but he was sweating beneath his black leathers. Bianca could make a man forget his name, let alone whom he was named after. He longed to trace his fingers up the boot and find the zipper and work the leather down to her heel. No doubt, he'd find a weapon or two tucked away on his exploration. Sexy. As. Hell. He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair. "I asked you for a favor."

"Funny, I have a few favors of my own I'd like to ask of you." Bianca leaned forward. The clingy V-neck of her dress drooped open. She followed the path of Michael's stare to her breasts. Her nipples tingled in awareness, as if he could see through the black lace and satin and see the pink mounds of flesh beneath.

Michael forced his eyes up from her exposed flesh and focused them on her mouth. No good there either. Her tongue traced the crimson border slowly and seductively. His eyes traveled up to meet hers. Definitely, no good to match her stare either. Her eyes twinkled with want and mischievous ideas. He settled for looking over the top of her head at the wall behind her. He shouldn't have come here alone. "Will you help us?"

Bianca rolled her eyes. By now, Michael should have been putty in her hands. Practically begging for more. BUT NO! He dropped the sealed plastic bag in her hands and waited. The velvet cloak was soft inside of the bag. "How romantic, you brought me another woman's clothes to sniff." She moved off the desk and landed into his lap. Arranging her butt over the bulge in his leathers, she sat and shifted her weight to rub against him. A smile curved her lips as he unconsciously bucked his hips into her. Nope, that big bulge wasn't the handle of a blade or the butt of a gun. But, indeed it was a powerful weapon. Of that, she had high hopes.

Michael gritted his molars and dug his fingers into the upholstered arms of the chair. Otherwise, he'd have locked them around her hips and pressed her hard against the bulge in his leathers. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow from the amount of self-control he exercised. Already in his mind, he had her stripped naked, straddling him in the chair, and riding him like a Texas cowgirl rode a bucking bronco. "Please."

Bianca shifted her weight in his lap. They could play chase the erection all night long. There was only so much room in the chair and she'd catch him no matter how he tried to maneuver her. She settled against his bulge more firmly this time. A whisper of a whimper snuck from his lips before he clamped them tightly closed. The g-string underwear she wore created the most wonderful sensation of friction as he slid back in the chair as far as possible. Wasn't quite far enough to escape her though. If anything Michael was even bigger than before. "What about my favor?"

"Anything." Just get off my lap before I ruin my favorite pair of leathers, he mentally added to the plea. His cock twitched, ramrod stiff, and ugly as a one eyed monster. She was definitely not the shy female admirer he was used to. Bianca was forward. She put it all out there and there was no mistaking the vibe radiating from every cell of her being this evening. She wanted him. However he could give it. She'd take it. More than that though, she'd give everything he gave and then some in return.