Dawn Redeemed

"STOP!" Dane thrust his sword in between the men. The dagger deflected off the gleaming silvery edge of the blade, sending bluish sparks flying with a resounding clang of metal on metal. "This is not the time nor the place!" Dane glared at O'Sullivan, "I suggest you find your rogues before we do and get the hell out of my territory before I send you straight to hell along with them!" His head snapped to Carter, "You, gather up Shayla and the others and get them home. I need to be out hunting rogues, not playing nursemaid."

"You will not reprimand him for pulling his blade on me?," O'Sullivan asked in feigned shock.

"You poked a sleeping tiger with a sharp stick. I say you reap what you sew," Dane said. "My warriors have the territory well covered. I highly recommend that you begin searching for your rogues. Make no mistake, if I find them first, before dawn sheds its first light, they will taste steel."

O'Sullivan bowed his head and backed away with his arms stretched wide. He reached into his pocket and withdrew an object, clutching it tightly in his fist. "I have a gift for you, Carter," he said, opening his hand. A dainty locket dangled by a thin, weathered ribbon, faded and tattered by time. Only thin strands still held the locket on the ribbon. "I think you recognize this."

Carter stared at the locket in shock. The gold oval spun on the end of its ribbon like an ornament from a Christmas tree, glittering in the dim light. At one time the ribbon had been a brilliant, cheery red, the exact same color as the lips of the woman who owned it. He snatched the locket out of O'Sullivan's fingers. The thin tatters of ribbon that were intact, shredded in weak protest. The gold was cold against his fingertips, the engravings were worn, the inscription on its back illegible and worn with time. Gingerly, he handled the fragile locket and clicked it open. A hand painted miniature portrait stared at him. The picture was barely recognizable, but Carter could still make out her likeness. "Yessette."

O'Sullivan had just delivered a death blow, as sure and cold as any blade, deep into Carter's black heart. "We have much old business to discuss. Till then, I take my leave of you and this place. We will meet again, Carter." He turned his back and began to walk away. Suddenly, at the gap between the two tents, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Addressing Dane, he said, "Do with the rogues what you will. My purpose for coming here is done." With that, he was gone, leaving only the fluttering walls of the tents in his wake.

Carter gripped the locket in his trembling fist. "Let him go." He shoved the locket carelessly into the pocket of his jeans wishing he'd never seen the cursed thing or the woman who had worn it. Knowing, he never had and never would forget either the locket or the woman. The door to his emotions slammed tightly closed as he turned and walked away.

"Everything ok, Carter?" Shayla asked. Carter's lips were drawn into a thin, tight line. His face was a cold emotionless mask. He didn't say a word and walked far ahead of her and the others, almost losing them to the crowd. Shayla sensed that something had happened, something bad, in the long corridor created by the two tents.

Ruby hovered over her son grateful that he was ok, but furious that he'd wandered off. She noticed Carter's demeanor as he walked past them. His gait was stiff and his shoulders rigid, as if he bore the weight of the world upon them. Her brows knitted in confusion as she looked up at her husband. With less than an insightful shrug he lifted Evan onto his back and began to follow Carter.

Evan looked down from his perch on his dad's shoulders. "Dad, that man was a very bad man."

Hanning gripped Evan's shin with his fingers. "I know."

The procession back to the SUV was a solemn one. No one said a word. The sights and sounds of the fair faded into the backdrop. Even the merry twinkle of fireworks failed to lift the group's spirits. Carter handed Hanning the keys. "Take them home. I've got some things I need to attend to." Shayla stood on the passenger side dumbfounded. Carter was gone, without a word, disappearing into the darkness without a trace.

Chapter 133

Fallon leaned back on her elbows and craned her neck to see the brilliant display of color exploding in the night sky above. The crowd ooh'd and ahh'd as fireworks danced over their heads in a spray of twinkling light. "Aren't they pretty?"

Torr had his eyes on something more beautiful than any firework. His girls. He ran his fingers through the thick of Fallon's silky auburn waves and playfully nuzzled Erica's neck. The engagement ring sparkled more brilliantly than the fireworks. He was about to be a married man and couldn't wait.

Erica suppressed a giggle as Torr's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on the nape of her neck. She regretted having that second lemon shake-up. The bathroom was clear on the other side of the fairgrounds and she had to pee. By the time she walked all the way over there and back, the fireworks would be over. Focusing her mind on something else wasn't going to cut it. With a disgruntled moan, she got up. "I'll be back," she shrugged at Torr's confused expression. "Bathroom break," she explained. "Fallon, do you have to go?"

"I'm good, mom," Fallon answered waving her off.

"Ok." Erica wove through the maze of blankets, coolers, and lawn chairs. The dark made her task even harder and she stumbled a couple of times, once, squashing someone's toe beneath her foot. "Sorry," she said embarrassed.

The midway lights were dimmed for the fireworks. The place looked like an abandoned ghost town. Everyone except for a few lonely stragglers was down on the grass watching the fireworks. She hurried along, thankful that there wasn't a line for the ladies room. She chose a stall, not hard to do since the place was empty and tried to hurry. There was no rushing nature fireworks or not. Finally finished, she pulled up her shorts and flushed. A quick wash of her hands and she was on her way, hustling back to the blanket.

The loud noises from the fireworks and round of applause from the crowd echoed through the empty grandstand and lonely midway. Of course, Erica had missed the whole thing. Her bladder had impeccable timing. She didn't notice the quick trace of a shadow as it passed behind her or the shift in the air as it approached. Suddenly, she was jerked back and pinned beneath a strong set of arms. Her heels left a trail in the trampled grass of the midway as she was dragged behind a ride and into a dark corner.

Shit! Erica scrambled and grappled to regain her footing and throw off her attacker. She didn't even have her purse with her. A cold chill ran through her as realization entered her mind. Unable to free herself, she did what any reasonable person would do, she screamed like hell and panicked like a madwoman. A hand was roughly clamped across her throat, cutting off her scream.

Finally, dinner was about to be served. The woman in Theresa's arms struggled, waving her limbs ineffectually. Good. She'd wear herself out and submit all the faster. Theresa was nearly insane with hunger. She didn't care if this woman was somebody's wife, or mother, or perhaps a sister or a daughter. Food. Blood was the only thing that consumed her thoughts.

The woman thrashed crazily. Theresa was like a shark clamping its jaws on a victim. The more the woman fought, the tighter she held on. She had to be quick, quick, quick. If the woman died in the process so what? She was going to die anyway-someday. Theresa was only hastening the process of what would otherwise be an undoubtedly agonizing, lengthy death many decades from now. She was doing the woman a great favor. Damn, if the bitch would just hold still and cooperate. Just be the sheep that she was and do her part in the circle of life. Theresa wrestled the woman to the ground, pinning her body against the trampled grass, and bit down.

Blood flowed over her tongue and washed down her throat. Excitement and fear had made the woman taste even better, like seasoning to the meat. The woman's struggles were beginning to weaken. The heartbeat pounded wildly in Theresa's ears. God, the blood was so good. As the woman weakened, Theresa found herself gaining strength. When she finally got her own place, she was going to keep her dinner around longer. Make it last and take her time to savor her meals. For now, she had to drink deep and fast. Hurriedly rush through the pleasure of her consumption and move on. She had a plan. A plan to explain the body. She couldn't just leave it there, pale, lifeless, and drained. Littering was one of her biggest pet peeves. She had to stop, otherwise there wouldn't be enough blood left to give her idea credibility. She could grab another snack later on when she got on the road.

The guy peddling daggers and ornamental blades hadn't been very careful with his displays. Getting the knife had been easy. Theresa hoped it was sharp enough to do the job she had planned for it. Shuddering and gasping, she withdrew her fangs and positioned the unconscious woman on the dirt. The carved handle fit her hand perfectly. She held it over the woman's throat and poised to deliver the wound.

"Theresa! NO!" David threw his body at his sister, knocking her to the ground. The blade fell from her hand and dropped noiselessly to the dust. "You can't do this!"

"Shut up David!" Theresa hissed, "You're going to get us caught." She wriggled out of David's arms and turned her attention toward the woman. The smell of her blood made her nuts. She wanted more. It seemed like such a waste to let it spill on the thirsty ground when she was so very hungry.

"I won't let you kill her."

"She's already dead as far as I'm concerned. What should we do? Turn her? Create more like us?" Theresa twisted free and dodged for the knife. "If you want any you'd better get it now. We've gotta go."

"No, Theresa. I can't. This isn't any way to live. Come with me. There are people who can help you. Help us. There is a better way. I know it."

Theresa shook her head, "Maybe for you, but not for me." She shrugged, "What can I say David? I'm a people person."

David grasped the handle of the knife with his fingertips, barely reaching it before she did. They rolled on the ground, punching and kicking, struggling for control of the blade. He finally twisted it free from her grasp. "Theresa, I'm sorry," David plunged the tip of the knife deep into his sister's stomach and withdrew it. The wound would not keep her down for long. Long enough though to do what he had to do though.

"Damn." Theresa stared down at the blossoming crimson stain on the front of her t-shirt and lifted her eyes up to her brother in disbelief. She guessed the blade was sharp enough after all.

David did what years of Bianca's careful teaching had prepared him to do. Theresa wasn't going to turn away from the path she'd chosen. David couldn't let her live. He had to end it. Here and now, the madness had to stop. Before she could react and he could stop himself from doing what needed to be done. He swung the blade with all his strength and ended it. Cold, dead, eyes stared blankly up at him as the head rolled to a stop. The body landed with a soft thud onto the dirt, stirring up a light cloud of dust. He was about to turn the blade on himself when a hand closed over his. "Don't."

Carter twisted the knife out of the boy's fist and handed it to John Mark. "It won't work. Trust me I know." Dying didn't bring about the end of grief and now matter how hard a vampire tried, ending one's own life was almost impossible. He'd realized that fact many, many years ago. He stared at the boy's left forearm and then at his own. They bore the same symbol. The mark of infinity tattooed along the smooth surface from elbow to wrist.

"She was my sister."

Carter handed the boy off to Dane. "His regret is punishment enough, send him back to the Guardians. We've found our rogue," he said nodding to the limp, lifeless, headless body.

Fallon leapt in surprise at the sight of two familiar figures weaving through the crowd. "Uncle Alexander! Aunt Leigh!"

Alexander bypassed Fallon's eager hug, putting it off for the moment. "Torr, you need to go down to the midway. We'll look after Fallon."

Torr dropped the blanket he'd been folding while he waited for Erica to return and ran. There was a deep foreboding in Alexander's voice and a look of grimness on his face. Worry was etched in Leigh's delicate facial features. Something had happened.

Cool fingers traced a path across Erica's cheek. A voice tried to pry her away from the quiet, peaceful place she slumbered. A gentle hand pried open her mouth and something warm and soft pressed against her lips. Sweet liquid drizzled over her tongue, rousing her with its enticing aroma and taste. Eagerly, she clamped on and drank.

"Erica!" Torr pushed his way through the line of black leather and knelt at Erica's side. Blood congealed in sticky pools around her and the lifeless body a few feet from her. No further explanation was necessary. Carter cradled her head in his palm as she drank from his wrist. "Is she...?"

"No, she'll be fine. My blood will hasten the healing process. We found her in time." Carter gently pried his wrist from Erica's grappling fingers. "This mess is my fault. I should have been tending to business instead of chasing after a dream." Carter eased Erica's head into Torr's lap and withdrew into the darkness.

Dane snapped the phone shut and nodded at John Mark. "Fallon is going home with Alexander and Leigh. Men are on the way to clean up the mess." He knelt beside Torr and checked over Erica. "Thomas is expecting her at the compound. Mack will take you." His heart was heavy, burdened with the suffering of others.

"Fallon!" Erica dug her fingers into the soft, tacky earth and tried to lift her head. She had to find her daughter.

Torr lifted Erica in his arms and carried her to the waiting squad car. "Shhh, you're going to be alright. Fallon is with Leigh and Alexander, she's safe." He cradled Erica's head against his shoulder and was careful of any divots in the ground, anything that might jar her. "Everything is going to be fine."

"It hurts," Erica moaned. She was barely able to make sense of what had happened. Ice rushed through her veins and every inch of her skin throbbed in agony. She was dizzy headed and weak. Too weak to fight Torr's firm grip on her body. "Please take me home."

"Shhh," Torr said gently, "I will."

"Where's mom and dad?" Fallon asked. She hadn't expected to be spending the night with Aunt Leigh and Uncle Alexander so soon. Her mom would never run off and leave her purse. And the way her dad had taken off for the midway...something was wrong. She knew adults well enough to read the worried, strained looks on their faces. "I want to talk to mom and dad before we go."

"Fallon, your mom had an accident. She's fine, but your dad needs to take care of her right now," Leigh said softly. She picked up the abandoned blanket on the ground and threw it over her arm. Her hands trembled with worry. Luckily, they were at the fairgrounds tending to their prize pig when they'd gotten the call from Dane. The supernatural world was hard on humans, sometimes too hard. With their daughter Alex, they'd quickly realized that if they wanted to protect her, they couldn't hide the truth. Both their daughter and their niece had similar introductions. She well knew the worry and fears Torr faced.

"Can we wait for her at home?" Fallon asked stubbornly. Now she was worried too. Adults weren't as clever as they thought.

"That's where we're going," Alexander patiently answered.

"No, not your house. I mean MY house." She dug in her mom's purse and pulled out a ring of keys. The flash of red and blue lights winked wildly in the distance. Fallon was frightened and worried that those lights were for her mom.

"I know how worried you are." Alexander cast a glance at Leigh and caught the subtle nod of her head. They could do for Fallon what they had not done for Alex and Erica. By refusing to shield Fallon from the dangers, she'd be better prepared and able to defend herself. "I think we can do that."

"She's going to be all right?"

"Fallon, your mom is going to be just fine. Your dad is going to take to take her to see a doctor just to be sure."

"So I can wait up for her?" Fallon bit her bottom lip in doubt. The adults would want her tucked in her bed. She wanted to be wide awake when her mom got home. See how ok she was for herself.

"Yes."

"Ok. Uncle Alexander." She slid her hand into his and glanced over her shoulder. The lights whirred frantically as they raced past the long line of cars at the exit. And she knew her mom was in that police car along with her dad. But, she also knew everything was going to be ok.

Chapter 134

David did exactly what he was ordered to do without complaint, hell he scarcely dared to breathe. The whole guilt be association thing might make the Sons a little too eager to remove his head from his shoulders. The place in his heart reserved for family was empty and bleak as a tomb. He had no family left to fill the empty chasm. His sister was dead and to his parents, he was as good as dead. It would be better for them if he never had existed at all.

He sat sandwiched between two walls of muscle and menace. One false move and they would remove his head. They made no threats they didn't intend to follow through on. Miles of black countryside stretched on either side of the SUV. The orange glow of the city shone like a beacon through the windshield. To some the glow might hold a hope of a future to come. To him, it only signified a prison that he would never escape. He was locked in the cell of his own body without hope of parole. His was a very, very long life sentence.

O'Sullivan stroked the woman's cheek. Oh, that he hadn't created her. He'd lived with the regret for centuries. She was touched, dim as a flickering flame burning a short wick. Yet, he'd loved her once, long ago. But, she was more burden than blessing to him now.

"Carter will come?"

"Yes, Yessette, Carter will come."

Carter stood at the rails of the cradle and gently stroked R.J.'s smooth, soft cheek. The baby smacked his lips and rolled onto his belly. Oblivious and lost to his sweet baby dreams. Regret wrapped an iron fist around Carter's heart and squeezed it in its cold fingers. He should have known better. After all the centuries and long hard years, he had never learned the most basic lesson of all. Acceptance.

He was this thing that he was and he always would be. Barren. Lifeless. Damned. The locket in his pocket was a dagger through his heart. He couldn't stay here and pretend that he deserved a better life. He was nothing but a cancer to Shayla and R.J. Eventually, his disease would spread and consume them bit by bit with its decay.

"So, just like that you're leaving?" Shayla pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders and shivered against the chill tearing through her heart.

"O'Sullivan is a dangerous man. I have placed you and R.J. in great danger. All of you, the entire pack is in danger because of me. I led him straight to the doorstep. I did everything but invite him in. You saw how enthralled he was by Evan. Once he sets his sights on something, he won't stop until he gets it. I can't let that happen. He will come, not only for Evan, but for you as well."

"So your solution is to run instead of staying here and sticking it out?"

"My solution is to end this for once and for all. Shayla, you are my life and my love. I can't damn you too. R.J. is like a son to me." Carter took a deep shuddering breath. The hurt in Shayla's eyes made him a ruined man. "That my sin should touch one hair on his little head. I can't live with that. It's better that I leave now than to stay and pretend a fleeting happiness. As long as O'Sullivan lives, I can never know peace."