Dawn Revealed

It wasn't until after the first dead girl, a pretty brunette, was tossed out of his private rooms and discarded like an empty fast food wrapper that she began to figure out what he really was. And what the ultimate cost would be, her life. But, by that time, she was in too deep. She couldn't just walk away. She had to escape. Little by little she began devising a plan.

Her plan was desperate and definitely shaky. She was aging, and like the brunette and a few others, it was only a matter of time before her luck ran out and she'd be dead too. She'd stuffed her pink bear with any little bit of money she could get her hands on. That was the one saving grace Roark had. Money was trivial and inconsequential and he tossed it around like it was nothing everywhere he went. He used it to lure in girls like her. Girls nobody would miss if they didn't come home.

Keene was her inspiration, if he could get away from their master so could she. She knew where he would go and remembered the secluded location. She threw herself on the brotherhood's mercy and they sheltered her. She was safe, for the time being Roark wouldn't be able to get to her without a fight.

The women of the compound were another source inspiration to Kayla. They'd all survived so much tragedy. Robbie didn't know about vampires until after her parents were killed in the accident and one came for her. Chris had been brutalized by an ex boyfriend and turned against her will. Candace had been forced into joining an army of rogues. Anna had suffered horribly, tormented by Roark before she chose to turn rather than slowly lose her mind. Alex had lost her first husband in a bitter battle and somehow found her heart open enough to risk loving again. And Janine, although her husband, Patrick, was a vampire, had the courage to stay human.

These women were not stupid nor were they weak willed. Most of them had graduated from college and had promising careers before their lives took them in a direction they could have never envisioned.

Bryce cleared his throat gently, drawing Kayla out of a daydream. He just wanted to check on her to see how her first day was going. He was planning to hang around and offer her a ride home when she got off work. "If you were to recommend something from here, what would it be?"

Kayla blushed furiously after being caught daydreaming when she should be working. The middle of the day was the slowest time. And the hands of the clock hovered at a quarter till four. No one had ever asked her what she liked or might prefer before. She had to think about it before she answered his question. "Ah, I think I'd buy a cherry slushie, take it home, and pour a little rum in it, personally." She was joking the same as he was. She couldn't drink rum any more than he could drink a cherry slushie.

"Ok," he said, lounging against the gleaming stainless steel counter. "I'll have a cherry slushie. Minus the rum."

Kayla scoffed, "Ok." She lifted her brows inquisitively as she grabbed a cup and squirted cherry syrup into the bottom. "That'll be two-seventy five."

"For a slushie?"

"A large slushie," Kayla corrected. "Robbie's here if you want to haggle the price. I think its stupid of you to buy something you can't drink anyway."

"I was buying it for you," Bryce said defensively.

"Oh, well in that case its ten bucks." Kayla grinned and held out her palm for the money. Robbie would wring her neck if she knew she was hassling a customer. Maybe not, since it was Bryce and he was doing a fair share of hassling himself. "I'm worth it."

"I don't doubt you are," Bryce said. He dropped a five into her palm and refused the change she handed him. Scowling at him, she dropped it into a donation bucket for the local animal shelter. He lowered his eyes and took the chilly cup from her hand, subtly brushing his fingers against hers. The sparks that flew up his spine from the innocence of the gesture, made him shiver. "What time do you get off?"

"About right now," Robbie said in a commanding voice. Standing out of Kayla's view, she shot a warning glare at Bryce. It wasn't that she didn't like him. She just didn't want him sniffing around another one of her employees. She'd had a hard enough time getting a decent days work out of Janine when Bryce had inserted himself into her life after her breakup with Patrick.

Thank God, Janine had gotten her head screwed on straight before Bryce had managed to worm his way into her heart. Janine and Patrick belonged together and it had taken them both a lot of trial and error to figure it out. And Bryce hadn't gone down willingly. He'd torn Janine's tender heart into tiny pieces before he finally realized she wasn't right for him.

Kayla was fragile, different from Janine. Robbie felt very protective of her newest 'What's the Scoop' girl. Kayla flinched at the subtlest of physical contact. She grimaced and shrank into herself whenever people raised their voices around her. And when Robbie had given her the tiniest amount of praise, she'd beamed brighter than the sun. It was so obvious the woman had been severely abused by Roark. And perhaps, might never make a full recovery. Kayla wasn't ready for Bryce or his affections.

"Why so early?" Kayla glanced at her watch and back up to Robbie in confusion. She wasn't a businesswoman. But, she assumed that after people got off work for the evening, the shop would be bustling with customers.

"Janine can't come in and I've got other things that I need to tend to this afternoon." In truth, she'd skipped breakfast to get to the shop early to work on the books. And she was a little hungry. At sundown the deer would be in the fields and it was easy pickings.

"I can stay. You said it yourself. I'm doing a good job." Kayla wanted to help out. She'd mastered most of the shop's equipment and the cash register. If anything came up, all she had to do was call and ask Robbie or Janine what she should do. "I think I can handle it."

Robbie huffed. She had vowed to keep the shop in the black and with their shortened pre-fall hours, profits were dangerously hovering toward the red. The offer was tempting but she couldn't leave Kayla alone and unprotected. Roark or any of a number of predators could be lurking anywhere, waiting for such an opportunity. And she didn't trust Bryce around her, not that he wouldn't keep her safe, but he didn't need to be alone with her. "I can't leave you on your own."

"She won't be." Bryce leveled his gaze in Robbie's direction. He could sense her hunger and knew within minutes of leaving the shop she'd be out in the woods hunting her dinner. He knew Robbie didn't particularly care for him or his presence around Kayla. She knew too much about his past. What he'd put Janine through. He was a different man now. Thoroughly reformed. Robbie wasn't Kalya's mother. And she had no right to judge him for his stupidity. He'd fully learned his lesson. "I'll stay with her."

He shot Kayla a wide grin. "It'll be fun." As long as he didn't have to handle any of the high tech gadgetry, he should be fine. He wasn't allowed near the kitchen, no matter what. Was it really his fault that he didn't realize metal and microwaves didn't mix? He was simply trying to make a cup of tea for Janine and well...

"You won't touch anything?" Robbie demanded. He knew damned good and well she wasn't talking about the equipment in the shop. But, that too was off limits. She wanted her shop still standing when she came into work tomorrow. Kayla could handle the customers and filling their orders. She was a quick study and knew the basics. And she had a gift. Her charm was enough to disarm even the most demanding of customers. One smile from her lips and any customer, especially a male was likely to forget his name, let alone his complaints.

"Nothing," Bryce swore. He did not mix business with pleasure. And protecting Kayla was his job and his pleasure. What did Robbie think he was going to do? Drag Kayla into the stock room and make out with her on top of the hot dog buns?

"Deal. Lock down at nine." Robbie went to her office and gathered up her things. On her way out the back door she gave Bryce a glare that said it all. One fuck up and he wouldn't have to worry about singing bass anymore. He'd be strictly a soprano.

Kayla gripped the edge of the counter. "Oh boy, I'm in charge on my first day," she muttered with a silent dread. Anything that could go wrong probably would. It was just the way her luck ran.

"Here drink this," Bryce said, thrusting the syrupy melting slushie into her hand.

"I'm beginning to wish I had some rum," Kayla said taking a big gulp as her a herd of rowdy kids and overheated parents clad in bright yellow 'What's the Scoop' sponsored baseball jerseys corralled at the door.

"I'll be in the back," Bryce murmured, dodging for the safety of the storage room. Softball brats. He couldn't believe his luck. He was expecting a quiet evening with Kayla. Doling out an occasional ice cream cone or a shake. Not getting stampeded by a brood of unruly hellions. And that was just the parents. He'd taken on rogues single handedly that weren't half as frightening as the ten year-olds pouring into the shop.

Kayla grabbed Bryce by the wrist. "Oh no you don't. We're in this together."

Bryce grinned and nodded. "Together, I like the sound of that."

Chapter 12

Angel took her time showering and dressing. Carefully arranging the neon pink tips of her black hair into sharp spikes with a generous amount of gel. Without the points of color in her hair, the pixie cut made her look young and harmless. She was anything but. And she thought everyone ought to have fair warning when it came to her. She was a lethal predator and didn't take any shit from anybody.

Not being able to wear makeup sucked and added to the illusion of youthful innocence to her look. Ever since she'd had her eternity makeover, eyeliner, eye shadows, not even chapstick would stick to her skin. Angel had to go to extreme measures to scare people off. A black sharpie worked just fine. She carefully lined her eyes with the marker and added a bit of gold ink to her lids. The effect was dramatic and bold. And would definitely have the desired effect. People left her alone.

She had her mother's dark, almond shaped eyes, dainty build, and jet-black hair. She didn't know much about her family or her lineage other than her mother had been Asian, tiny and delicate like a doll. And she did nothing to protect herself or her defenseless daughter from the insufferable prick that was the only father Angel had ever known. She'd only been five when Child Protective Services had taken her away. And she hardly remembered the piss poor excuse God had given her for parents at all.

The state system designed to protect children wasn't any better than the home they'd rescued her from. They'd just sent her from one version of hell straight into another. Smaller than the other kids, her size made her an easy target and she drew bullies to her like a magnet. To her, the rage and fighting was self-defense. To the state, she was a 'problem placement'. And the overcrowded, overtaxed system was more than happy to forget about her on the day she turned eighteen and never looked back.

Life on the streets hadn't been easy. She'd celebrated her eighteenth birthdays scrounging for handouts and a place to sleep. It hadn't taken long for the sharks to circle around her. And she'd learned to swim quickly; it was either that or get eaten alive. Her nineteenth and twentieth birthdays weren't a picnic either. Angel refused to think about how she'd celebrated them.

In a way, she should be grateful to Roark. If Kayla hadn't been in the club that night, trolling for new toys to add to his collection, she might have never gotten off the streets. Angel smirked at that. She might be dead by now and probably would be. And hell, in a way, she was. Not dead as in graveyard dead. But, for all intents and purposes, she was dead or rather undead, nonetheless. She should thank Roark and Kayla for her new lease on life... or death... as it was. But, she didn't have it in her heart to be grateful. As always, she'd done what she'd had to do to survive. And now, instead of being labeled as a 'problem child' she was labeled as a 'problem vampire.'

But she wasn't prey. Not this time. Only the sharks were bigger and deadlier. Angel dug through the closet for something to wear. Snorting at the triple digits on the price tag, she pulled a pair of black jeans off the hangar and slid them over her narrow hips. She'd much rather wear her leather corset and four inch heeled boots. But, tonight she was hunting. And gothwear didn't tend to be durable enough for skulking through the woods. Grunting in dismay, she pulled a black turtleneck over her head and smoothed it into place.

The size seven shit kickers by the side of her bed added about an inch to her height. They were comfortable, practically indestructible, and made for a nice long run through Mother Nature's backyard. Angel had to admit, although she was covered from head to toe, she looked pretty damned hot dressed in black. She had a real 'creature of the night' theme going on here. And wasn't that hilarious, because she was.

The whole vampires could not go out into the sunlight thing was utter bullshit. Sure, the bright UV rays hurt her eyes and it was almost blinding without dark glasses to protect her sensitive vision. But, she had yet to burst into flames.

The whole fanged thing, that was true. No vampire ever left home without them. At nearly two months into this life, the things were embarrassing as hell. They popped out at the most inopportune times. She could definitely not say 'Sally sells seashells by the seashore' without cutting the hell out of her tongue. The brothers would not let her out amongst 'decent folk' until she learned to control her dentally challenged state.

Angel curled her upper lip and cursed at her fangs. Just thinking about blood had the sharp points at their full length and aching like hell. Whether it was for her protection or not she was practically a prisoner here. The brothers were not fools. She gave them credit for that. They would not turn her loose unsupervised on an unsuspecting public for a damned good reason. She could control her appetite about as well as she could control her fangs.

Not having a steady diet of human blood was difficult for her. Difficult? It was hell. The Sons lived by a very rigid code in terms of their diet. They drank from willing donors. But, they took barely enough to slake their hunger. The rest of their sustenance came from the blood of animals. Deer primarily. And even at that, the brothers hunted and took down the prey like the predators they were, drank just enough to maintain some measure of sanity, and let the animal go. Let it go! Nobody killed anything. Accidents were tolerated, as long as they happened to the four-legged prey. Slip up and kill a human and all bets were off.

She got it. Killing humans sucked, literally. She knew how it felt to take human life. And the guilt was not an easy thing to live with. She'd like to pretend in her newborn ignorance she hadn't known better. But, she couldn't. Killing was killing. She'd chosen her victim out of a sea of nameless faces. Stalked her through the city. And drained her dry. That woman's family would never see her again. She'd never go to work again. Never come home. And it was all Angel's fault. Luckily there was only the one. If there had been more, if she'd murdered the man as she'd planned, she wasn't sure she could have lived with herself.

Protecting humanity was the very thing the Sons were created to do. And they would stop at nothing to fulfill their purpose. Nothing was forgotten or forgiven by them. The only reason the brotherhood had decided let her live was because she'd saved Lori from a gruesome death at Roark's hands. That and Keene was laying his ass on the line to vouch for her. Angel tried to do right by him by behaving herself. But, it wasn't easy.

A taste didn't satisfy; it only made the hunger worse. Despite the guilt of killing, a part of her wanted to drain the victim to the point of death. She never went on the hunt alone. Perhaps the brothers recognized her weakness and how hard she fought to control the basest urge to kill her prey.

Angel wondered who her escort would be tonight. John Mark? Will? Chance? It didn't matter to her. As long as she got her dinner, what difference did it make who watch dogged her? She knew a brother always tagged along for another reason as well. Nobody ever mentioned the truth of it. But, she was in danger. They were protecting her from Roark. He could be anywhere and if he spotted her, he'd kill her, or do far worse.

The bastard seemed inescapable. Her life on the streets had been hell. But, it was nothing compared to the months she'd spent under Roark's roof. And the things he did to her during their time together went far beyond the realm of nightmares. It was a good thing she had so long to live, in theory. Because it would take at least a dozen lifetimes to put that particular part of her past to rest.

The brothers didn't know how good they had it. In comparison to hers, their lives seemed easy and posh. Angel fingered the sales tag she'd pulled off her jeans and tossed it into the trashcan. Money was no object. Obviously, the brothers had plenty. But, it wasn't the homey surroundings or the supply of cash that came to mind when she thought about the brothers and good they seemed to have it.

Yes, the brothers fought amongst themselves. There was just no way to avoid a scuff or two with so much testosterone under one roof. And she'd seen several near altercations break out during her stay. Sometimes, the women of the compound weren't much better than the men in terms of arguing with one another. Too much estrogen confined in a singular location. An occasional catfight was bound to break out here and there. And they did. She hadn't witnessed any hair pulling or clawing. But, Angel had seen plenty of scowls that could have peeled the paint off the walls.

Humans cohabiting with vampires, moving about so freely, constantly coming and going, seemed a likely recipe for disaster. No one coddled the compound's two full time residents though. Janine and Kayla were expected to hold their own. Janine for all her annoying, touchy-feely, ditzy ways was well respected amongst the brotherhood. And that had nothing to do with the fact she was married to Patrick. Angel didn't know what the woman had done, or how, but she'd earned her place here.

Kayla kept to herself. Keene, Bryce, and sometimes Lori were the only ones she had too much to do with. But, even that had changed since Angel had first moved in. Kayla was beginning to find her place here. Working for Robbie at some stupid ice cream shop to lend a hand. Starting an easy friendship, or more, with Bryce. Chit-chatting it up with Janine while they ate the meals Anna prepared for them. Angel wanted to hate Kayla for moving forward. But, it wasn't as if either of them would ever really put the past behind them. Kayla was just better at hiding from it than she was.

Angel recognized her bitter emotions for what they were. Jealousy. She didn't hate Kayla. Perhaps, she should. Kayla had never done or forced her to do anything. Ultimately, she'd made her own bed and now she had to lay in it. In fact, there were more than a few times when Kayla had willingly taken the full brunt of Roark's attention to draw it away from her. Out of the two of them, Kayla was the stronger person; she always had been.

Angel ought to be grateful she'd managed to find the strength that she had. At seconds to zero hour, pinned between a brick wall and her death, over being pushed around and terrified, she'd pulled the rabbit out of the hat or rather, the blade out of her skirt and saved her own ass. Kayla didn't rescue her. Keene wasn't there to protect her. She'd done it herself. Let the rogue feed from her to almost the point of death, slit his throat, and hovering in the shadowland between this world and the next, drank his blood. That was the first night of the rest of her life or whatever this existence was. She was truly her own creation. And she had only herself to thank for it.