Dawn Redeemed

"Her mother isn't." Alex glanced at the man behind the wolf hoping to appeal to his common sense. Hiding the truth didn't mean it didn't exist. She'd grown up in the thick of the paranormal world and had not one clue. The secrets her parents and Lucien kept from her had almost gotten her killed. If she'd known Lucien hadn't died in that accident and lived on as something ...other. It would have changed so much on too many levels to count. Losing him once, or thinking that she'd lost him was bad. Having to go through it again and knowing the second time there was no resurrection from the dead had almost taken her to the grave with him. Erica deserved something better than secrets. Secrets served no purpose, not when Fallon's future was at stake. "You have to tell her."

"Right now, I'm just trying to see my daughter. What do you think Erica would say if she knew the truth? You think she'd let me within ten feet of Fallon then? I plan to tell her." Torr raked a hand through his thick black hair and shook loose bits of stray leaves and twigs from the tangle. "I want to tell Erica. Everything. I just need time. Let me gain her trust first. Wait until she lets me hold my daughter with these arms." Torr lifted his hands to prove his point. "And then I'll tell her." He dropped his arms to his side and clutched his thighs with his big palms.

"I understand how hard this is for you, Torr. But, things haven't been easy for Erica either. Don't forget that. Don't wait to tell her. Erica doesn't let people in easily. Don't let her find out by accident. If you do, anything you hope to have with her or your daughter will be over before it begins."

Torr brushed the debris that had fallen from his hair off his shoulders and watched it drift to the ground. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I know what Fallon is. I know she'll need you in a few years. Maybe, if she'd stayed in D.C she'd have the chance to live a human life. Out here, so close to the pack, the magic will draw her in and she'll be an inexorable part of it. I love her, all of her. I want to make sure that you're there to help her when the time comes."

"I want that too." His hands tightened into fists at the idea of his daughter growing up alone without the pack or him to see her through her first shift. "No one should have to go through this alone. No one."

"You did."

"No, I always knew what I was."

"That didn't make it any easier when the time came did it?"

Torr swallowed the lump in his throat. His father had been harsh and cruel, paraded Torr through the town like a prized pit bull when he had his first shift. Torr had not expected the pain or the confusion. The utter terror as bone and flesh split and yielded to fur and thick bands of sinew. His father laughed as he cried and clutched the ground beneath him. "No, it didn't."

Alex stood from the log in one smooth lithe motion as only a vampire can and stared down at the top of Torr's head. "You say you want to be Fallon's father. Act like one. Tell Erica everything."

Torr looked up and met the intensity swirling in Alex's brown eyes. "I will." The woods were quiet, still, as if Alex had never been there at all. He sat on the log, watching the woods fade from the deep purple of twilight and sink into the velvet black of night. A chorus of cricket song sang in harmony to the branches and leaves rustling in rhythm to the song of the night. A fat moon hung lazily in the sky above, bathing the woods in its silver-white glow. From his vantage point he could see the yellow glow of lamp light shine through tiny windows of the house in the distance intent to keep the darkness at bay.

He closed his eyes, pretending, what a home like that was like on the inside. A home like that would be filled with love and hope. The people who lived under that roof loved and cared for one another. They were family. He had known many grand houses in his time, filled to the top with the finest of furnishing, but a home, no matter how simple, he'd never known how it felt to live in one.

Chapter 6

"I'm ready for bed, mom." Fallon put her best strategy to use. She had played the obedient daughter to the hilt. She ate her supper, every bite of it, without complaint. Really wasn't that hard. Her aunt was a better cook than her mom. Besides, tonight was meatloaf night and after the slop she'd been served in the school cafeteria she was eager to clean her plate. She offered to help clear the table and dry the dishes put away dishes with a smile. While her mom relaxed with Aunt Leigh and Uncle Alexander, she'd climbed into the tub without having to be reminded. And now she stood in her pink knee length nightgown, meekly requesting to be tucked into bed.

Erica glanced up from her laptop screen and curiously studied the little girl, shining clean from the tub, standing in front of her. "Uncle Alexander, my daughter has been replaced with a Stepford child. Where's Fallon and what have you done with her?" Erica set her laptop on the coffee table and walked over to her daughter. Playfully, she lifted a lock of auburn curls and lowered her eye to look in Fallon's ear. "Hello, is Fallon in there?"

"Mom, quit." Fallon giggled. When her mom had first come home she was grumpy and tired. Fallon guessed her mom's mood had little to do with her actually breaking the rules and more to do with the fact that much like hers, her mom's day had sucked too. After a couple of cups of coffee and a second helping of cherry crisp, the wrinkle between her mom's eyebrows had faded and she was smiling again.

It was a hesitant smile. Almost as if her mom was afraid her better mood wouldn't last and she'd fade into being a grouch again. Adults were always whispering things...important things they didn't want kids to overhear, but kids overheard anyway. Her mom was stressed out about finding a job. They didn't have much money. Even Fallon understood the importance of money. She hadn't opened her mouth to ask for anything and wouldn't. Her mom worried they were imposing on Aunt Leigh and Uncle Alexander. They didn't seem to mind having two extra people around nearly as much as her mother did.

Her great uncle was a doter. He was always going on random treasure hunts up in the rafters in the barn and coming up with some dusty box stuffed with surprises. He swore he wasn't a hoarder. He just never threw anything away. Fallon had more Barbie dolls and trinkets from Cousin Alex's childhood than she knew what to do with. She was polite and took the dolls and board games, but it was the books with their pages stiffened from sitting in boxes year after year and their slightly dusty smell that captured her interest the most.

Erica placed a hand on top of Fallon's head and spun her toward Aunt Leigh. "She certainly looks like Fallon doesn't she? But, she can't be. My daughter, even if she were being punished, would be bargaining to watch another half-hour of TV."

"Mom." Fallon tipped her chin to stare contritely at her mother. "I understand the value of punishment. Now, tuck me in."

Erica lifted an eyebrow and snorted. "Now, I know this isn't my little girl. She's too well behaved to be the Fallon I know and love." Erica was speculative about her daughters suddenly perfect behavior. Fallon had always been a pretty well behaved kid. Never really causing too much of a fuss. But, like all kids sometimes bedtime was particularly challenging. She was being good, a perfect angel, in fact Fallon was being too good. "What do you want Fallon?"

"Can I watch TV in my room?"

Erica nodded and had to stifle a grin. Uncle Alexander had salvaged a beat up nineteen inch TV from somewhere and proudly deposited it on top of Fallon's dresser. The color was slightly off and the picture wobbled, but it worked. "Ah, there she is. You have been awfully good tonight, but you are being punished. How about a book before bed instead?"

"Ok." Fallon beamed. Partial triumph was better than no victory at all. And sometimes a kid had to take what she could get. She bounded across the living room and gave her aunt and uncle pecks on their cheeks. Uncle Alexander's cheek was rough and stubbly while her Aunt Leigh's was cool and smooth, dry almost powdery. Fallon was tempted to delve into the most recent stack of books Uncle Alexander had rescued from the rafters, but instead she decided on an old favorite. She'd read the book about ten times already, but rereading it again was more about the memory of happier times when her mom wasn't so stressed and grandma had been alive to read the pages with her. "I get to pick the book, right?"

"Sure."

Torr crept up to the house. The side yard was a vast expanse of nothing. Just flat green grass in unruly dew soaked clumps. The distant sound of a TV with the sound turned up too loud rambled through the windows that had been open to let in the coolness of the night. He guessed at which one of those open windows was the one in Fallon's bedroom.

He felt a little like a peeping Tom, sneaking around an unsuspecting home to catch a glimpse of the people inside. Especially when he should simply be able to march right up to the front door and walk inside to kiss his daughter goodnight and perhaps, tuck her into bed. But, in the spirit of cooperation and giving Erica the time she needed, sneaking a peek or two with his human eyes and Fallon's unknowing affectionate petting of his wolf was as close as he was going to get in the immediate future.

He'd guessed right. The open window was Fallon's. The white print curtains ruffled lightly in the breeze, parting them. Torr caught a glimpse of Fallon hopping into the bed. "I want this one," she'd said with a child's eager enthusiasm. In her hands she clutched a thin paperback book. Erica followed on Fallon's heels. She'd taken down her hair and exchanged the uptight business wear she'd worn for their meeting for a pair of soft pajama pants and a plain long sleeved t-shirt with flowers embroidered across the chest. With her guard down, she looked younger and certainly more relaxed than she had sitting across the table from him.

"Ok, ok." Erica flopped on the bed beside Fallon and settled against the head board. Fallon curled up under her arm and snuggled in close beside her. The book Fallon had chosen to read was well above her reading level and one she'd read so many times the pages were worn. She'd hoped Fallon would choose one of the classics Uncle Alexander had rescued from the barn. But, tonight wasn't about furthering Fallon's education. Tonight was about simple comforts like togetherness, feather pillows, and sheets that had been washed so many times, the print had faded into one solid color. "We've read this one a hundred times. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, mom. I love this book."

Torr grinned at the loving scene unfolding between mother and daughter. "Ok, 'Julie of the Wolves', one more time. Chapter one." Erica's voice sounded tired, maybe even a bit exhausted, but she never wavered as she read the words on the pages to Fallon. Fallon followed along, tracing her finger over the words, reciting sentences from memory as Erica read. He stood on the outside looking in his heart aching in his chest for the simplicity of things he'd never known.

Tucked quietly out of sight, listening to Erica's voice, Torr listened to her read to Fallon and got a little engrossed in the story's plot himself. He couldn't have approved of the subject matter more if he'd picked out the book personally. The story of wolves and a brave little girl, how appropriate was that? The bed creaked as Erica slid her arm from under the weight of Fallon's sleeping body, set the book on a battered nightstand, and turned off the light. Torr eased out of sight, behind the gap in the curtains, wanting a home and a place to belong more than he ever had in his life.

Chapter 7

"You can't do that." The young vampire said in a trembling voice. He crouched in the dark alley, clutching to the rough brick surface of the building behind him. He was so fresh and new, barely a year, maybe less, into the change. The scent of the woman's blood had done exactly what O'Sullivan expected it to do. Call the wavering faithful to him.

"But I am." O'Sullivan stroked the dazed female's neck lovingly with a long pale finger. How careless of The Guardians to let a young one, such as this one trembling before him, out alone and unsupervised. Stupid really. The young were so easily tempted and even easier to sway.

"Who are you? I don't know you," Justin gulped. He was young, trying to sound tough and failing miserably. Justin didn't know much, but he knew enough to realize that the elder smiling up at him was old, ancient maybe, and could kill him before he knew he was dead. He watched the blood ooze to the surface and trickle down the white flesh of the woman's neck in a slow, lazy trail. He inhaled the perfume of death longingly.

"No, you don't. Your master and I are old friends. I guess I forgot to call and tell him that I was in town." Eric smiled at the vampire as if they were old friends settling down beside a fire to share a pint of ale. The vampire was unsure, trying to cling to a morality that battled against the truth of what he was.

"I have no master," Justin hissed. The vampire was smooth. Something in his voice begged you to trust him. The phrase partner in crime came to Justin's mind. This could be a trick. Carter was always testing them...their loyalty. But, Carter had never killed to do it. The vampire lovingly licking blood off his fingers eyed him with mischievous intent. Like they were two kids sneaking hits of a bottle of Jack stolen from a liquor cabinet. This wasn't whisky. This was life, leaking out of the gash in the woman's throat and down onto the pavement.

The vampire had a shrewd look about him. He wore a long black coat and shiny leather loafers. His suit was pressed and impeccably tailored to fit his shoulders and paired with the coat, somehow the fine fabric made him look taller and bigger than he actually was. Justin wasn't gay. Nope, he didn't roll like that. And the vampire wasn't attractive to him at all. His brown hair was gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck revealing a weak jaw and almost beady greenish colored eyes. But, the air of masculine confidence and authority drew him closer, almost close enough that the two of them could kiss.

"Then come, join me. Try her."

Justin shook his head in vehement denial. He was armed, but not brave enough to use the dagger strapped to his hip. He'd been warned about vampires such as the one so kissably close. His short spiked hair held stubbornly in place thanks to a thick smathering of hair gel. The whole vampire thing was supposed to be glamorous. It wasn't. He missed his former life more and more as the days went by. He'd always been such a rebel. Getting his tongue pierced and tats up and down his arms, for no other reason than to see the disapproval in his mother's face.

His dad had tried to send him off to some fancy military academy to 'straighten' him out. Well, as a family, they were broke and the only thing his dad had managed to do during his many, many tirades was alienate his son. Justin wished he'd been better to his parents, stayed in college, and maybe actually gone to a class or two. Instead, he'd been too busy partying down with the club set and it'd cost him a hell of a lot more than an empty wallet and one hell of a hangover the next morning. Now, that he could never see his parents again, he missed them more than ever and college, it just wasn't going to happen for him...ever. "We're not supposed to take humans by force. Killing is wrong."

"Says who?"

"Everybody... Carter." Justin breathed hesitantly as if just by saying Carter's name the ancient vampire would suddenly appear out of the alley's dark shadows and bust him. He'd been lucky when the bad times came, he'd survived them. Vampires were smart that way, doing what was best to save their own skins. And when the Guardians were formed, he'd been one of the first to jump on the bandwagon.

"Your master."

"No. Not my master. I told you I have no master." The Guardians existed because they wanted to exist. There was no Master thing going on. Carter was their leader. He gave them a common purpose, but it was by their own free will that they patrolled the streets and restricted their basest instincts.

"Then, come do what you know you want to do. Taste her. Just a sip between new friends. I won't tell." O'Sullivan licked the blood from his fingertips. "Delicious. Type A, my favorite. You know you want her. Are you really so content feeding on a steady diet of straight laced donors and mangy alley cats and strays? Have you tried any rats recently. Tolerable in a pinch, but not really satisfying, are they?"

"I... I can't." Justin took a hesitant step forward.

"Tell me boy, where is your master."

"No one has seen Carter recently."

"Really? So who's to know if you do take a sample? Surely even one as great as Carter wouldn't begrudge you this one simple indulgence. You know, Carter has killed many, many times in his past. He, more than anyone, has no right to judge." Eric had doubted Bianca's reports that Carter was missing. She was leading the Guardians, having take his place as their leader. Eric would like to think Bianca was still loyal to him, but he knew better. Bianca wasn't loyal to anybody except to herself. She served Carter as his second and then turned to report every move he made to Eric. Her motives were simple. She would benefit, no matter who was at the helm.

"Murder is an automatic death sentence." Justin knelt beside the unconscious woman's bleeding throat and inhaled. Dizzied by the scent of fresh human blood. He shuddered, snaking his tongue along the crimson trail that led to the open wound.

"You aren't the one killing her. I am. You are simply being practical. No need to turn away perfectly good blood once its already been spilled, now is there? Waste not. Want not." O'Sullivan slit through the flesh in one smooth flash of steel. "Enjoy. She's my treat. Don't worry about the mess. I'll tidy up." He stepped back, allowing the young vampire feast at his table.

Chapter 8

Carter suppressed the urge to spit the weaker, thinner animal blood onto the dirt. The taste of it made him shudder in repulsion. He'd hunted with the Great Father. Symbolic, an act of unity, but he'd never drank more than a sip or two from a furry, four legged creature for sustenance. The blood was so weak and tasteless. Growing cold in his mouth before he could force it down. He gasped as the mouthful trapped behind his lips trickled down his throat. The blood rolled and pitched in his quivering stomach, churning and threatening to come back up. The doe stared up at him with dazed, trusting eyes, so big and deep brown, so much like a willing victim. That in itself made him want to vomit. Carter wiped his chin on his sleeve and released the deer.

The Sons could do this. They weren't weaker for it by any means. Surviving on animal blood with an occasional sip from a willing donor for sustenance was possible. Why was he trying? For Shayla, of course. If he could master his nature and harness his beast, maybe he could be the man she needed him to be and finally move out of the binds of his past and make a future for himself.

Possible or not, drinking from animals made his guts churn. He had the stomach for the hunt. He had the predator instinct necessary to make the kill. He simply preferred a different prey. He didn't kill. Not any more. Hadn't in a long, long time. He had at least managed to leash his beast that much.

He kept a low profile. Sticking to donors, people who offered a vein and serviced his needs. His donors weren't innocent. They were hardly victims. Shayla wouldn't understand this about him. He drank from the willing, but hardly pure. Shayla deserved better than him and certainly better than the devil inside of him. She looked at him with such trust and innocence. Much like the doe he'd subdued. In her eyes, he felt better than what he was. Whole. She made him want to try harder. She made him feel something he had not felt in a long, long time... human.