Dawn's Darkest Hour

Blackness swirled around him like a vortex. Images, like the essence of a woman's perfume left lingering in the air long after she'd departed, seeped into his mind. His teeth ground together in horror at what he saw. Darkness. Death. Despair. Terror. Blood, he saw so much blood and shivered beneath the force of another's self-damnation. Using every bit of strength he had, he threw his body back onto the concrete drive and trembled uncontrollably. He rolled onto his side and tucked his knees up under his chin. Lying there on the hard, cold ground panting, fighting back his screams, he muttered into the night one word over and over. "Vampires."

David navigated the SUV into the city. Like a dirty whore, she spread her legs wide and welcomed him back home. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the hard plastic groaned beneath the strain. Confronted with her filth, he doubted that the idea to return, which had made so much sense in the security of the compound, was a good plan at after all.

Deep in the quiet of the woods, he'd imagined pulling up to the front door of the Guardian's homestead and marching straight into Bianca's office for answers. In the solitude of the pines, dreaming of capturing O'Sullivan in the act had seemed easy. Now with the city spread wide in front of him. The task felt impossible. Surrounded by fresh air, he felt ready to handle Rachael's loss. Inhaling the stink of the city choked him. He couldn't seem to find enough oxygen to fill his lungs.

As for Nora, engulfed in the peace of the country, she might have well have been a million miles away. He idled the powerful engine to a stop, right outside of her front door. He should have stayed away. Hidden until all doubts had been plucked like weeds in a fertile garden from his mind. His fingers gripped the keys determined to pluck them from the ignition and then planted his balled fists on his lap. Indecision ticked away relentlessly, transforming from seconds to minutes and minutes into an hour as he waded through the muddy thoughts in his head.

The scattered pieces of his life lay before him. He simply didn't know which piece to put into place first. Wearily, he scrubbed his hand down his face and placed his fingers on the steering wheel. Soon, dawn would rise. He'd wasted the night in contemplation and still had no direction in which to go.

There was one thing Cole had been right about. David found himself in the same predicament Cole had been in. Through that painful process of self-discovery, Cole had figured out where he belonged. David couldn't go back to the life he'd lived before. He was an orphan. Homeless. The SUV ate up the pavement like a hungry beast, chewing up miles of dingy city street beneath its tires as David drove, trying to find the starting place for whatever his life would become.

Nora tossed in her bed a final time before giving up and relinquishing her body to the exhausting task of wakefulness. Sleep teased her like a schoolyard bully ceaseless in the chase. The idling of a vehicle outside her front door for the last hour or so had been unnerving. Damned neighbors. Didn't they realize that people had to get up in the morning? At first, she thought it might be David. Stupid thought. Curiosity chewed at her, but she stubbornly refused to budge out of her warm bed to peek behind the curtains to see for herself. By the time she gave in and inched the drapes back, the street was dark and empty. Nobody was up and about at this ungodly hour except for her.

Irritated, she tugged the curtains back into place and stomped to the coffee maker. To make up for her lack of sleep, she added an extra scoop of dark grounds into the basket. Today was going to be difficult to put it mildly. There was no class today. Under different circumstances, a break from the mundane world of English Composition would be a welcome change of pace. She found no pleasure in the coffee. The drink provided much needed caffeine and nothing more. There would be no joy to be found in the world today. At noon, in the gym, instead of a ball game or a pep rally, there would be a memorial service.

Amy showered and dressed with robot like movements. Automatically, without giving it any thought at all, she dragged the brush through her hair and applied a light dusting of makeup. Rod was downstairs making coffee with the same mechanical efficiency.

The day, THE DAY, loomed above her high as Everest. She stood in the mountain's insurmountable shadow shivering in the darkness. From way down here, she couldn't see the snow covered peak shrouded in clouds of living mists. She'd have to make it up the rocky crags, over the invisible peak, to pick her way down to the other side before she appreciated the view. Someplace, on the down slope of the mountain was a place, a mystical land, called Normal. Her belief, that someday she'd get to that place again, if it ever truly existed at all, was the only thing that kept her going.

They had a few hours before they had to be at the funeral home to say a private goodbye to their daughter before the fiasco began. People were trying to honor their daughter and deal with their own senses of loss and grief. Amy knew that and she understood, really she did. She just couldn't take one more hug, one more tearful "I'm so sorry", one more sympathetic glance, or worse, the averted eyes that stared at the floor rather than meet hers.

She was on the verge of losing it. She knew it. Her fingers worked to pry the cap of the bottle free and fish out a white, football shaped pill. It slid down her throat too easily as she dry swallowed and waited for the scream building and building in her chest to dissolve into a drug induced calm.

Rod balanced two mugs of coffee in his hands as he climbed the stairs. Today was the day every father hoped he'd never live to face. Burying his daughter. Saying goodbye one final time. He did his best to keep it together for Amy's sake. The shoulders that felt as if they carried thousands of pounds of weight he never allowed to sag an inch.

Hot coffee sloshed over the rims of the mugs and stung his fingers. He barely noticed. With the toe of his shoe, he inched open the bedroom door. Amy stood in front of the mirror, looking small and lost as a frightened little girl. Rod sat the mugs down on the dresser and wiped his damp, sticky fingers on his slacks. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing that kept her head above the waves. He squeezed her back desperately. All they had now was each other. "We're going to make it," he whispered. "We're going to make it."

Chapter 105

Jess bustled about, readying her children for the memorial service. She didn't know Rachael or her parents very well, but she wanted to be there for them to show her support. A part of her nagged that it could be Cole the school was holding a service for instead. Guilty at her relief that it was some other family's moment of suffering instead of her own, she pushed the dismal reminders out of her head and got down to business. Getting two toddlers, one teenager, a baby, and a grade schooler bathed, dressed, and keeping them spotless wasn't easy.

She sat on the floor and wrestled one of Cole's old hand me down shoes onto her son's foot. The police had no new leads. She called to follow up everyday. The detective assured her every time she called that he'd contact her when there were any new developments. She didn't care. She called again and again anyway. She'd keep calling and calling until the day there was a new development for the detective to report.

With one kid down, scowling at her in protest. She moved on to ready the next kid in assembly line fashion. Cole was out there somewhere alive. On that fact, she hung every bit of her strength and hope. He had to be. She wouldn't accept anything less.

Robert paced his cracker-jack box sized hotel room with an agitated gait. Now that he had his power turned on, he was careful not to touch anything. The latex gloves made his hands itch and sweat. But, they served as an effective barrier between him and the world. He should have known that his son wouldn't remain untouched by the paranormal forever. Vampires. He dragged a hand through his hair in agitation. What in the hell had Cole gone and gotten himself into?

Robert knew about the vampires. Always had, ever since his gift first began to manifest itself at the tender age of fifteen and he got his first glimpse into the dark underworld that coexisted right alongside the mortal world. He'd spent his life being so careful to steer clear of their haunts. Avoided the city's maze of dark alleys, being caught in desolate places alone after nightfall, and never, ever, risking the slightest brush of contact with a stranger. If they knew that he knew about them. They'd kill him without so much as a blink of an eye. Vampires were hunters, predators shrouded in secrecy and the less he knew about them, the better. Now he was going to have to search them out. Shouldn't be too difficult in a city filled to capacity with the bloodsucking fiends.

He'd kept the vampires' secrets. Who'd believe him anyway? The myth that vampires didn't exist was their greatest weapon. Jess had a right to know about the danger their son was in. His mind volleyed the thought back and forth like a ball over a net. No, he couldn't tell her. Exactly what would he tell her? It wasn't like he could simply show up on her porch steps and blurt out that he suspected the worst. Fear jolted along his spine as the dark thought took root and blossomed into to a very real, very toxic possibility. Cole, if he'd gotten mixed up with the vampires was probably already dead, or worse.

No, he wouldn't tell Jess. Not until he had something concrete to tell her. He needed more information to solidify his dreaded conclusion. Robert dismissed the crushing sensation of loss that squeezed the air out of his lungs. Not ready to admit that his son was probably dead. Not yet. Vampires didn't kill everyone who crossed their paths. Sometimes other things, worse things happened than death. Choking on the bile that bubbled up in his throat, he considered the possibility that his son could be one of them.

Resolved to know the truth, Robert smoothed down his hair and did his best to look presentable. It looked like he was going back to high school. He'd touch every damned inch of the place, every brick, every desk, every page in every book, and sift through every random image that flooded into his brain until he found something, anything, to lead him to Cole.

Chapter 106

Shayla dressed R.J. in a thick, warm playsuit, probably too warm for the sunny day the forecast predicted. Nervousness made her fingers tremble as she flung his diaper bag over her shoulder and balanced his weight on her hip. Taking him along for the ride could be a dangerous mistake. But, she couldn't ask Ruby to baby-sit for the day. Ruby would never agree with what she had planned and would do her best to stop her from going. "Are you ready for our big adventure?"

The sun was lazily hovering on the edge of the horizon as she crept down the stairs. The house was quiet. The night patrols hadn't returned yet and everyone who was up and about in the day was still tucked into their beds desperately trying to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep. If she were going to do this, it was now or never.

"I don't suppose there's anything I could say to change your mind?" Ruby asked. She handed her sister a thermos of fresh coffee as she unburdened her of R.J. and the diaper bag.

The warmth of the thermos seeped through Shayla's cold fingertips. "You're not going to try and stop me?"

Ruby shook her head and cuddled R.J. against the fluffy depths of her robe. "No. Not even going to utter a word. Wouldn't do any good." She nodded in response to Shayla's determined nod. "You know, none of this is your fault."

Shayla clutched the borrowed keys in her fist. On that, Ruby was wrong. This whole mess was her fault. Daniel was missing because of her mistake. She'd been so blinded by love that she hadn't been able to see the truth about Carter. He'd warned her. Ruby had warned her. She just simply hadn't listened. Now their pack was paying for her error. "I trusted Carter." A frown crossed her lips as R.J.'s sleepy eyes snapped open at the mention of his name. He missed Carter almost as much as she did. She wasn't the only one hurt by his absence.

"Everyone did." Gently, Ruby squeezed Shayla's arm. "I didn't want to be right about him." She averted her eyes to Shayla's boot clad feet in shame that everything she'd accused Carter of was true. Ruby looked up at the sound of footsteps wearily padding across the floor over their heads. Nash and Eloise were early risers. No doubt awakened by the whispers of their conversation. Not much went on in this house without everyone knowing about it. "You'd better go while you can."

"Yeah."

"I could ask Hanning to round one of the males up to go with you," Ruby offered in a last ditch attempt to keep her sister safe. There were other dangers in the city beyond Carter.

Shayla nervously adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder, "No. I'll be fine. No matter how far gone Carter is he won't hurt me."

From above, a toilet flushed and voices conversed in soft, muffled tones. "Well," Ruby said uncomfortably. "Be safe out there."

"I will." Shayla forced a reassuring smile on her lips. "Thanks." She hurriedly gave R.J. a peck on the top of his downy tuft of black hair and tiptoed through the front door.

She was operating on assumptions at this point. Carter could be downright deadly when he wanted to be. If he wanted to kill her instead of help her, he most certainly could. Her wolf was strong, powerful, but no match for Carter's lethal force, if he chose to unleash its fury on her. She was risking her life with nothing but a small flicker of hope that somewhere in the darkness, the flame that once burned so brightly wasn't completely extinguished.

Carter forced his blood encrusted lashes apart by sheer force of will. The chains bit into the flesh of his wrists and ankles. Every part of his body ached. Every cell begged for nourishment. His lips were swollen and dry. He couldn't draw a single molecule of air through his nostrils. He'd been worked over by the Sons and was still alive. Killing him wasn't their goal. Not yet. He still had information they needed.

The man towering over him shook with rage. Fists clenched and unclenched with desire to unleash the fury within. "Give me five minutes alone with him," Hunter growled. Carter could barely focus his eyes on the man. He was so damned tired and he hurt so badly that he didn't feel the pain of it anymore.

Carter's lips moved, painfully they curled and pursed as he tried to form words. "Your son...Trying to help...free your son."

"Bastard!" Hunter spat outraged, straining against Michael and Marcus's iron grip to get at the Son of a Bitch. "Where is my boy!" Fighting against the vampire's hold on him was wasting precious energy. Energy he'd need to beat information out of their captive. He could smell his son all over Carter. Daniel's earthy, musky scent fueled the need to inflict pain, lots and lots of pain on Carter.

Hunter's wolf growled and clawed at the surface of his brain. His body trembled as he fought to contain the lethal force beneath his skin scrabbling to get free. His wolf would kill the vampire and roll in his blood just for fun. Not yet, he persuaded his wolf. His wolf would get his chance. After he got the information he needed to find Daniel. The added strength of his agitation worked in his favor and Hunter broke free from Michael and Marcus's grip. In a fury of fists he unleashed his pent up rage on Carter's once beautiful face. "Where is he!"

Michael and Marcus dove in to pull Hunter off Carter. Random fists flew and found purchase on flesh as they struggled. Carter moaned pitifully against the assault. Finally, with the aid of a few extra warriors, they reined Hunter in and wrestled him to the ground.

"Can't help if I'm dead...," Carter groaned. Blood flowed in a torrent down his ruined face and dripped in a steady stream off the tip of his nose and onto his chest. New waves of pain surged through his body, mingling with the already familiar sensations of agony to create a synchronous blaze of torment. He didn't know how much more pounding his body could take before it gave out and he lost consciousness. He hoped it was soon.

"Stay down!" Michael barked at Hunter, shoving the struggling wolf's face into Bianca's plush carpet. Huffing, he pressed a knee into the back of Hunter's neck to still him. Some days, his job sucked. This was one of those days. He'd hoped the Sons wouldn't have had to resort to torturing Carter to extract the information they so desperately needed. Apparently. Not. The harder they tried. The more pain they inflicted. The more stoic the vampire chained to the chair became. They needed a new approach, if they were going to learn anything useful from Carter.

Bianca wearily sighed. Inwardly groaning at the grizzly sight of Carter's abused body. The Sons had been at it all night. Enough was enough. "Boys, boys," she said coyly. "Obviously, Carter isn't going to talk." She surveyed the damage and added with a disgusted huff. "If you keep this up, it doesn't look like he's going to be able to remain conscious for much longer either."

Braving to step in front of the tangle of leather and sweating, aggressive male flesh, she picked her way toward Carter. "Perhaps, we should try a woman's touch. Why don't you go find our friend a chew toy and leave Carter and I alone for a few minutes?" Hunter glared at her from his position under the stack of men. She pressed her fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss.

Shrugging off Hunter, she winked at Michael. "You have no idea how persuasive I can be. Now, shoo." With a wave of her fingertips, she motioned toward the door. Once the men were gone and the door closed tightly behind them, she crouched down low, leaning in to whisper in Carter's ear. "I just saved your ass, for the moment. You'd better make it worth my while."

Chapter 107

Daniel woke up and stretched. Reaching across the bed, he patted the empty space next to him. Yessettte's sweet perfume lingered on the cool sheets, conjuring up all sorts of images from last night. Toes curled as he remembered the exotic taste of her blood on his tongue. An instant boner tented the sheets. He felt freakin' fantastic. Like he was king of the goddamned universe or some shit. Finally, FINALLY, he could kiss boyhood goodbye. With his cherry popped, he was one hundred percent, officially, a man. A cocky smile crept across his lips as he pushed all lingering doubts of that to the back of his brain.

Disappointed that Yessette hadn't stuck around. He pushed back the covers and contemplated the protrusion between his thighs. Too bad, she wasn't here next to him in the bed. He was so ready for Round Two. The discarded sweats lie in tatters on the floor. Luckily, the cotton was mostly in tact. Tearing the worst of the shredded fabric away, he transformed the sweats into a makeshift pair of shorts. Didn't matter much, almost anybody watching on the room's hidden cameras had already seen him naked anyway.

A grumpy rumble rolled through his stomach. Somebody forgot to deliver his breakfast this morning. More a part of his fruitless morning ritual than for an actual purpose, he shuffled to the door and wrapped his fingers around the knob to give it a rattle. Really, he didn't know why he did this everyday. The door was always locked tightly. Today, the knob turned. He almost didn't notice the fact that it wasn't locked until the door swung open wide, revealing a long, musty, dim hallway.