Dawn Redeemed

"Hello." Nash buried his nose in Eloise's dark mane and brushed his lips across her cheek. Smiling, nodded to the redheaded woman sitting across the table from his wife. He recognized her, from town and from the wedding. They'd spoken on the phone and once he realized who she was, he'd immediately invited her over. Might as well get her used to the pack gently before throwing her in head first. He scented Torr on her jacket and the sweet essence of vampire on her clothing. She was completely human. In his opinion it wasn't exactly fair to the humans that they didn't know about the other side of their world. The what they shared it with.

"I'm Nash," he said extending his hand. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and a pump or two. She was so timid, barely making contact with his fingers. Erica sensed what she didn't understand and was reacting to it on a subconscious level she probably wasn't even aware of. He hoped Hunter had behaved himself and that Gina had put her at ease. "Sorry, I couldn't greet you sooner. I teach in the mornings."

Erica tentatively shook Nash's hand. His hand was big enough to crush hers with his palm, but he was surprisingly gentle with her. He had a long braid of black hair interwoven with silver at the temples strung down to the middle his back. His brown eyes were kind, but shrewd as they studied her.

"Erica just stopped by to meet us. Her daughter is a few years younger than Mouse. She wanted an official introduction before she brought Fallon over to play," Gina said. "She and Fallon just moved here from Washington D.C."

Nash nodded and smiled, "Pleased to make your acquaintance in person. You're staying at Leigh and Alexander Gray's ranch aren't you?"

"Yes, my aunt and uncle," Erica answered. Her hand was still trapped in his massive paw. She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't want to hold hands with him either. There was a stronger aura of power that surrounded him. She wanted to throw herself at his feet and confess every secret she'd ever had. Grovel and do anything he asked of her without hesitation or question. There was something about him, a presence of absolute authority.

Nash took the hint and dropped Erica's hand. He excused himself to grab a cup of coffee. Erica shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. He hadn't meant to make her feel uncomfortable. But, for humans, meeting strangers was awkward anyway. Erica was shy and a little reserved.

"Well, not that everything is settled. Let me walk you out," Gina said. She scooted in her chair and waited for Erica to gather up her purse and jacket. She ushered Erica through the football field sized living room, dodging the toys the preschoolers had left strewn across the floor. Erica's eyes were wide and roaming as she took in the sheer size of the house and the wall of photos that spanned across one entire length of wall. "I understand how overwhelming we can be."

Erica smiled at Gina's candor. "How many people live here?"

Gina chuckled lightly, "I'm not really sure. Actually, at first I didn't think I'd like living with so many people, I'm from a very small family and before meeting Hunter was a bit of a loner, but it has grown on me. We take care of one another. There's always someone to watch the kids and always a kid to be watched. Hunter and I are trying for one of our own." She smiled and rubbed her flat stomach. "I'm never lonely, but there's plenty of space to be alone, if I want it. Everyone chips in and does their part, but no one does it all. This is a happy place, a home, filled with life and people who love one another."

"Its more like a small city," Erica said in awe. She crossed the threshold and out onto the wooden front porch. Gina followed behind her walking her to the car. Their feet crunched on the gravel. She liked Gina and her openness and sensed a timid friendship beginning to form. It'd be nice to have friends again. Other than Alex, she didn't know anyone else. And Alex was severely daytime impaired. Oh that old wives tale about vampires burning to ash in the sunlight was bullshit. What a reassurance that was. But, Alex rarely came out before the sun went down and it'd be nice sometimes to have someone to go to lunch with. Once she finally found a job and could actually pay for lunch. Maybe, Fallon wasn't the only one who needed a play date.

"Sometimes, yes. Sometime maybe, you and Fallon will join us for supper?"

"I think we'd like that," Erica said. She turned to Gina and smiled. "Thanks for everything. I'll bring Fallon by soon."

Gina returned the smile. "You're welcome. I'll see you soon then?"

Erica nodded. "Yes." She climbed into her car and put the key in the ignition. The engine reluctantly rattled to life with a wheeze. Uncle Alexander had taken a look under the hood and made a few adjustments. The man was wicked smart and had no shortage of duct tape. He could patch anything together. That was, except for that mower. Erica returned Gina's wave and backed out down the long gravel drive. She wished she could place exactly what it was about them that set the hairs of her arm on edge.

Only one other person had that same effect on her and she wasn't thinking about him. She wasn't sure what to do about him yet. Torr. She'd always thought it was lust, or the memory of their one night together, maybe it was something more than that, but what?

She drove down the lane and turned onto the main highway. Focused on the narrow road and the shoots of corn that went on for miles on either side, her mind raced with wild thoughts. Torr hadn't aged a single day since the last time she'd seen him. The pictures on the wall, some of them were old and faded, tin plates, and black and whites. Pictures that had been taken decades ago, yet the people in them seemed vaguely familiar.

Nash? Maybe a grandparent? There was no way the man in the tin plate could be him. Eloise? In a black and white photo wearing a dress that was in style maybe fifty years ago. The woman wasn't a day over thirty. Hunter as a little boy? The picture was faded and worn with time. He was dressed in dark knickers and a white shirt with a cap over his head. Hunter was roughly her age. The people in the photos may have been relatives, and maybe a few of them were still living. but it couldn't have been the people she'd had coffee with this morning. Yet, she wondered.

Her cousin would never age, at least she wouldn't show signs of it for decades. Alex had assured her that she did age, just much more slowly. She had no idea that the monsters in the movies were real till her cousin clued her in.

The people she'd met weren't like Alex. They had children. They ate and drank. She flipped on her blinker and turned onto the main highway. She dismissed the thoughts as simple paranoia and distrust, leftovers from living in a city teeming with strangers, crime, and danger around every corner. The people in the photos were relatives, nothing more. She had to learn to trust somebody, sometime.

Nash gestured at Hunter with his chin. "Take Tristen and go out to the woods. Find out who has been visiting the little girl and her mother and why."

Chapter 13

Shayla beamed down at her baby boy. Bundled for the trip home like he were about to embark on a deep sea expedition, he wore a soft cap of baby blue knit on his head and a hand woven blanket of soft blue yarn wrapped tightly around his tiny body. Nothing but is big, round brown eyes and a stray shook unruly black hair poked out from beneath the layers. She was taking him home to meet the rest of the family today. Thomas, dumbfounded by the speed and completeness of her healing, had given her a clean bill of health and released her from the compound's infirmary.

She bristled with excitement and anticipation. Today was her son's debut into a much larger world. Ruby and Hanning walked beside her. Not as guards, but as moral support. Sequestered down in the tunnels, it was easy to forget about the big world that existed above the subterranean, surreal life down below. The compound was a universe unto itself. Carter was nowhere to be found. She could have called out to him through their link, but she didn't. If he wanted to hide out and brood, he could. He didn't understand his feelings any more than she understood hers. Some time alone might help them both to clear things up.

Hanning lugged bags of presents through the halls. Gifts for the baby and his mother from the vampires. He respected the vampires for what they were, dangerous predators. Anything with a pulse had reason to be leery of them, but so far, they'd never given him a reason to hate or to fear them.

His wife walked on the other side of Shayla. Eyes alert for any sign of danger. She had a deep rooted fear...a hatred of the vampires that he couldn't pretend to comprehend. She hated Carter more than any of them. She resented his relationship with their son and her sister. Vampires weren't human, true fact. But they could be deceptively so when they wanted to be. She didn't trust Carter around Shayla or their son, and especially not around the baby. He had no reason to blame her for her feelings. He just didn't share her opinion.

Ruby was glad that Shayla had been cleared to return home. She was ecstatic that Shayla was getting away from Carter. If her sister wanted a mate so badly, there were plenty of eligible men at home for her to choose from. Warm blooded men with pulses and healthy sperm counts that could give Shayla more children, if she wanted them. Carter had a pulse, but he wasn't one of them. He couldn't make babies. And he'd be a fierce protector, if he didn't try to eat Shayla or the baby. Ruby couldn't make her sister see past his fancy exterior to what he was on the inside.

She didn't know why Carter disturbed her so much more than the other vampires did. The Sons were like a pack in many ways. They obeyed their leader, much as a pack would obey their Alpha. And their Great Father was the Alpha of her pack. He and his wife should scare the shit out of her, but they didn't. They were as loyal to the pack and the Sons as the Sons and the pack were to them. Carter had no Alpha. He was a free agent without a higher authority to answer to. He knew it. The Great White Wolf knew it too.

As long as Carter played by the rules. He could get away with murder and probably had. Just as long as nobody found out, he could do what he pleased and hurt anyone he chose. He reminded her of Seff, loyal to no one but himself. Seff had hurt. Seff had murdered and nobody had been powerful enough to stop him until it was too late. Ramon's murder was the catalyst that got the kettle boiling over. Her sister's entertaining the vampire was a mockery to her dead husband's memory. Ruby hadn't forgotten and she never, ever would.

She helped her sister fasten R.J. snugly into his car seat. He looked so much like his father that it brought bitter tears to her eyes. She fought to hide them from Shayla. Shayla could never know. Once upon a time, Ramon loved her as much, maybe more than he'd loved Shayla. Ruby had loved him in return. They saw each other in secret until the dreaded day came that their mates, predetermined by the cruelty of genetics, had been chosen for them.

Ruby was a first born. She married Hanning another firstborn, out of duty to the pack, not out of love. If she closed her eyes, she could see the hurt on Ramon's face when she told him. She broke his heart and he turned to her sister, not out of spite, but for comfort. The council had seen the bond forming and declared them mates. Shayla gave him what she could not and they fell in love. Ruby had Hanning and her son. Ramon had Shayla, but neither one of them ever forgot or got over what might have been.

Shayla saw the tinge of sorrow in her sister's brown eyes when she looked at baby R.J.. "I know, I see Ramon when I look at him too." Her hand rested gently on Ruby's shoulder. "I miss him."

Ruby smiled up at her sister and wiggled out of the backseat. She couldn't think of anything to say that would ease either one of their pain. Gently, she grabbed her sister's fingers and gave them a squeeze. She slid into the front seat while Shayla climbed into the seat behind her. Softly cooing to R.J. in soft, sweet, tones.

Carter kept his distance from Shayla. She was returning to her home this morning. Returning to her life and beginning a new chapter. His hunger was beginning to get the better of him and he felt the tether on his beast weaken with each passing minute. When he wasn't with her, forgetting what he was, wasn't so difficult. He had no reason to be 'normal' for himself or the benefit of the brothers, only for her. He wandered aimlessly through the tunnels like a ghost. Not knowing what to do with himself besides brood over her absence.

He had to conquer his beast. For her. He wasn't safe, not fully trustworthy around her or the infant until he got his hunger in check. Tonight at twilight, the dimmest time between night and day, he'd go out to hunt. If he could learn to sate his thirst with animal blood, he'd be safe. He wanted to do it, for the both of them. He wanted to bask in her trust and innocence. Find respite in her arms and gentle scent and forget the thing he'd been for so very long.

"Hi, Claire," Torr said. He would have extended his hand to shake hers, but she had her hands full between balancing the baby and fishing for the keys in her purse.

"My dad should be along any minute." Embarrassed, Claire parked her son in Torr's hands while she dug in the labyrinth of her purse for the keys. "I was surprised when he called and said you wanted to see the place. I didn't realize you were setting down permanent roots here." She wanted to ask him why he wasn't moving into the house with the rest of the pack. But, Torr had a right to his privacy. Despite the pack living, everyone had to have privacy at some point. "Ah, finally," Claire blushed as she pulled out a ring bursting with brass, silver, and gold tone keys. She traded Torr her son for the keys and followed him inside.

The house still smelled exactly as she remembered. Devoid of personal effects, the house looked downright shabby instead of the home she remembered from her youth. "When dad and mom remarried. They decided to sell both houses and start all over," she explained as if it were a good excuse for the shabbiness of the house. She walked across the faded, stained blue shag carpet almost ashamed by its threadbare appearance. The walls were in equally bad condition. Faded paint with smudges of dirt and outlines where various mementos had hung for years.

Her dad had just packed and moved out. He hadn't bothered with any redecorating in all the years after she and her mom left. He'd just lived here as single bachelor much like the house in a state of suspended animation. "Dad didn't see any point of redecorating, not when he was going to sell the house anyway."

Torr nodded and walked through the barren living room. A long half wall separated the space from the adjoining dining room/kitchen combo. "Understandable." The realtor, Claire's mom, had happily him to the seller directly. The house had good bones, he could see that. Flaking paint and dirty carpet could always be replaced. Without the middle man, or woman, in this case, he could probably talk Claire's dad down a few thousand to make up for the cosmetic deficits and the money he'd have to pour into making the place something more than shabby. The house fit exactly what he was looking for. Something that could easily be turned from a house into a home.

Torr walked the hall and peeked into each bedroom curiously. Claire's room, had to be, was done in shades of outdated muted pink and lavender trim. The master bedroom was decorated in a very dated shade of blue and had a small master bath. An extra bedroom sat adjacent from Claire's old room and judging by the cobwebs dangling down from the corners of the ceiling, hadn't been touched since forever. Possibly, it could be transformed into a study. The bathroom was behind the first door in the hallway. It definitely needed updating, peach tile, beige tub and toilet, and a worn, scratched, vanity took up every inch of space.

The kitchen and living room were the house's main attraction. The kitchen was large and spacious, although the cabinets and countertops had seen better days. Torr made his way through the shabby laundry room and into the attached two car garage. He changed his mind from a few thousand to several thousand. The house definitely needed more than just a little fixing up. The electrical needed updating. Windows needed replaced. And the roof had more than one patch of weathered shingles. He stared out of the back door and into a large fenced in heavily shaded back yard that was absolutely perfect for a little girl bent on exploring her world.

Claire bounced G.T. on her hip and watched Torr conduct his self-guided tour of her childhood home. Her dad was eager to sell, and at least if Torr bought the house, it would still be in the family, in a way. Torr came from a different pack, but all wolves were still tied together from a lineage formed long ago. "What do you think?"

Torr smiled and nodded in Claire's general direction. He was waiting for Claire's father to show up before he said anything. He'd play hardball with the actual owner of the house, not his daughter.

Blake shoved the car in park and hastily turned off the ignition. He was almost late for the showing of his house. He needed to be here to tell the potential buyer about the old homestead. There were decades of history in this old house and in a way, he hated to let it go. His wife, Dena, was better at this kind of thing than he. He was a high school science teacher and had not the first clue about how to wheel and deal. He pulled off the ball cap and thrust it into his pocket. Clare stood in the middle of the living room, her hair tied back in its usual blonde ponytail, with G.T. in tow. She turned as he came into the living room, giving him the award winning devastating smile he'd come to love so much over the years. "Hi dad. This is Torr. He's thinking about taking this place off your hands."

Blake thrust out his hand. Craning his neck up to look into the man's eyes. "Blake Samuelson."

"Torr." The man had Claire's steady blue eyes and infectious smile. His face was tanned and deep laugh lines crinkled in the corners of his mouth and eyes. He wore a pair of faded kaki pants and a pale blue oxford button down. His shoes were soft brown leather, scuffed with age.

"So, what do you think of the place?"

"It has potential," Torr answered. The place would take a few weeks to fix up. But, at least he'd have something to take Erica and Fallon off his mind. He'd been waiting for days for her to call him with a time to meet his daughter. So far, not as much as a peep from her. He was trying to be patient, but he didn't have much patience, never had.

"Great." Blake smiled. He chucked G.T. under his slobber coated chin with an index finger. "This here is my fishin' buddy," he said proudly to Torr.

Torr had to smile at the affection in Blake's voice. His father had never been proud of him. His father had taught him to fight and defend the pack, not how to fish. He swallowed the lump of regret in his throat and smiled at Blake and Claire, staring down at the child in her arms. The baby stared up, grinning and slobbering impishly. How different this child's life would be from the life he'd know as a boy. G.T. was a half-breed, like his Fallon. His father was a full blooded wolf, and his mother, human. Torr's father would have extinguished the child's life, solely based on that fact alone. Torr had no remorse for stopping his father from ever getting the chance. "You're a very lucky man to have such a family."