Dawn's End

He had an ageless look to him. He could pass for as young as seventeen or as old as a whopping twenty-two. Too bad, he was about a century older than he looked. His eyes appeared to be pinned on the magazine. But, he kept a careful watch on the crowd and his ears open. Classes were in session today. Half of the lobby was filled with girls who had ducked out of school to see their BFF. Clutching onto each other they bawled out of fear for their friend and texted one another like their lives depended on it.

Marcus, who was probably the only other brother more inconspicuous than he, was coming in from the city to take the second watch. O'Sullivan had managed to divide their forces. Bastard. They couldn't risk him coming back to finish what he'd started with the girl. They couldn't risk letting the trail get cold either.

A winter storm was on its way down from Canada. Patrick had to get out of here and find something before it hit. He sat here babysitting while the trail was getting colder by the minute. His brothers were good, but when it came to tracking, he was the best. Assuming he still had a trail to follow by the time Marcus got here to relieve him.

"What do you think Sheriff Brown? Was a vicious animal really behind Megan Bradly's attack or was it something else?" The voice of a female news reporter broke through the static on the radio. O'Sullivan chuckled at the newscast. A concerned citizen had called the local radio station to report the incident. The Sons had their hands full today.

"At this point, that's what we believe to have happened," the sheriff's gravelly voice replied over the radio's cheap speaker. "We've got teams in the woods searching for the animal behind the attack."

"I'll just bet you do," O'Sullivan cackled gleefully at the radio.

"You heard it here first folks on Moore County's only rock and roll station WROC. This is Gracie Albertson, your voice for news and sports, reporting." O'Sullivan switched off the radio when the newscast ended and rock music thumped out of the speakers. An animal attack? Whatever happened to truth journalism?

The sheriff had to be on the Son's payroll to spread such lies about him. He'd given the Son's collective panties a good hard twist today and that fact was somewhat satisfying in itself. Maybe while he was in town, he'd pop by and give the sheriff a good look at exactly how sharp a rabid beast's fangs could be. Rabid beast! Ha!

Chapter 23

Megan pried her eyes open. She felt woozy from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Images wavered in and out of focus. Pain shot through her neck and shoulder as she turned her head to the fuzzy outline busily fussing with her sheets. She winced at the pain of such a small, effortless motion as swallowing. Her throat was dry and her tongue felt like sandpaper from the medication. She wished they'd give her more medicine so she could disappear into the darkness of the rabbit hole again. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried for that bliss of nothing.

"Megan, I'm glad you're awake," a reassuring male voice said. Gentle fingers pried her eyelids apart and she was blinded by the glare of a penlight. "Good, good," the voice mumbled. "Just going to take a peek," the voice warned as tape was pulled free from the tender skin of her neck and the wounds inspected. "Looks good." A strong hand patted her fingertips in a comforting gesture. Only she found no comfort in the warmth his touch conveyed. She hurt. "I'm Doctor Sterling," the man behind the voice said in introduction. "You can call me Thomas, if you want."

"Can I have some water?" Megan croaked. One of those plastic bendy straws was thrust to her lips along with a cautioning word to take it easy at first. Her dry tongue scraped against the tip of the straw and with more effort than it should have taken she drew a sip into her mouth. The water was warm and had that awful stale taste water gets when it sits too long.

"That's enough for now," Thomas said. The last thing he wanted was his patient guzzling down water and puking it back up. He set the cup on the rolling bedside table and glanced up at the digital display monitoring his patient's vital signs. Good strong heartbeat, stable blood pressure, everything was normal.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked cautiously. He planned to call Mack in to question her and he would. She was still dazed from the morphine he'd pumped into her body and all the details she remembered would be fuzzy. Her truth could be easily bent into a slightly less compelling version of reality. The trauma of the events hadn't fully cemented into her mind.

"I was attacked." Megan remembered everything. She'd taken Princess out for her morning piddle and a man came out of the bushes. Her hand went to the thick, gauze dressing on her throat. "I was bitten."

"Yes. A wild animal jumped out of the bushes and attacked you."

Megan strained to shake her head, groaning at the pain from her wounds. "No, it wasn't an animal. It was a man."

Chapter 24

Robert knelt in the snow. Here he was...again. The knees of his jeans were cold and wet. Damp from his body heat melting the crunchy layer of gray sludge beneath him. Shades of dark red, almost crimson, fading to palest pink, tinted the icy crusting at the edge of the alley. He shivered, not from the cold, but from the horror he knew would come as soon as his fingers brushed across the stains.

The images were strong and immediate. A macabre tale played out for his eyes only. His teeth ground as a sound more guttural than a moan escaped his lips. O'Sullivan didn't attack the girl for food. He hurt her on purpose. Made her suffering much worse than it had to be. Killing her outright would have been too kind. He didn't want her dead. He tortured her senselessly. Left her alive and made sure she stayed alive, as a message to the Sons.

Robert crawled through the icy sludge melted by his body heat and the warm press of the sun beating down on the ground. He felt his way along like a blind man who had lost his cane. The visions had in a sense blinded him to the reality around him. There was nothing in his mind but twisted dark thoughts and desires. O'Sullivan wanted revenge. He wanted to be revered as one would a king. He wanted... he wanted everything. And what was worse, he believed, he truly believed that he deserved it all.

Robert gathered his strength and pushed his body, stiff with cold and terror, up off the rough gravel of the alleyway and gasped for breath. The chill in the air froze his body. His lungs could not take a deep breath. He forced his eyes open to stop the visions and stared up into the warmth of the sun.

The sun was real. The blue sky above his head was real. O'Sullivan wanted to be a father. Not because of any altruistic ambition to make the world a better place through the gleaning of his seed, but to make the world a worse place, and crown himself king of it all. He could never pass for human well enough for long enough to infiltrate the mortal world. He hoped though, his future children could.

Chapter 25

Shayla spent the day down in the depths of the compound. No matter how big the rooms or how high the ceilings were over her head, she still felt stifled and enclosed as if she were in a crypt instead of a subterranean palace. Still, it was a good place to hide from the men who were making a chaotic wreck of her emotional state.

She played with R.J. and the other kids, eager to keep her thoughts occupied and make the time till nightfall pass a little quicker. Her wolf's blood healed the worst of her injuries. All that was left from Carter's kiss was a dark purple bruise that looked more like a hickey than a wound. Tonight, she hoped the scent of her wolf would be enough to lure O'Sullivan out of hiding.

The compound was crowded with new faces. Guardians from the city and from the expressions on their stern faces, they didn't like being underground anymore than she did. They stuck out amongst the Sons like raisins in a bowl of rice. Not quite fitting in. Their gear, designed to blend in with their urban surroundings and hide the cache of weaponry on strapped to their bodies, was a hodgepodge mix of styles. They thought of everything from the rags of the homeless to posh diva to ordinary guy on the street. It wasn't that Shayla didn't trust them, but she kept a close eye on R.J.

Their leader, a woman, dressed more for shopping than battle in a chic cut, very expensive wool suit, was perhaps the oddest ball amongst them. Yet, she commanded her warriors with an air of authority that was hard to miss. Shayla balanced R.J. on her hip and moved through the crowd to introduce herself and familiarize them with her scent. This mismatch of people was supposed to be her backup tonight. Not many of the Guardians had seen a natural wolf except at the city zoo, let alone a preternatural wolf, like hers.

Shayla thought it'd be a great display of her trust to allow the woman to hold R.J. while she allowed the Guardians to sniff and inspect her. So much for motherly instinct, Shayla thought. Bianca scowled down at R.J. and wrinkled her nose as if she'd just caught a whiff of something very unpleasant. R.J. was a happy toddler. He didn't care who held him as long as he got held. He stared up at the coiffed woman in amazement. A thin layer of drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth as he speared her with a goofy looking grin. Bianca's dangling earrings, probably real diamonds, judging by the fire of their shine, had captured his attention and he reached for them with his chubby fingers.

Bianca was mortified to be holding this wiggling bundle of drooling flesh. "Now, now, don't pull on Auntie Bianca's earrings," she chided. Tilting her head she ducked out of reach of those chubby grappling fingers. She watched her Guardians circle around the woman like sharks, leaning in and sniffing. Shayla was patient, lifting her chin for a closer smell, extending her wrist for a brush of fingertips. Displaying absolute faith in Bianca and her warriors.

Bianca supposed that when Shayla handed over her child to her that was a display of faith as well. Bianca had not held a baby in... hell, she couldn't remember if she'd ever held a baby. Back when she was human one had servants for such mundane things. She hated to admit it, but the baby was, well...smelly, of course, and... cute, so damned cute. The baby giggled up at her, made a face, and then a cloud of stink rose from his diaper. Bianca was ready to give him back. "Enough, I think we've got it." She handed the infant to its mother and said, "I think he's soiled himself." Holding her hands away from her body, she made a beeline for the closest sink.

Shayla chuckled and baby talked with her son. "Did you make a poops, R.J.?" She had tried to potty train R.J. and had failed miserably. R.J. was as stubborn as she when it came to doing things he didn't want to do. She had even tried taking him into the bathroom with her when nature called. Tracker had done the same, showing her son how big boys went to the potty. Even Evan had tried to coax R.J. into using the toilet. The cheerio trick didn't work either. R.J. had stared down at the cheerios floating in the toilet bowl in abject horror. Shayla had been reduced with continuing to diaper him until the time came when he was damn good and ready to do otherwise.

Bianca rolled her eyes and scrubbed her hands with soap and scalding hot water. Children, she supposed, were a necessity. Every living thing had a means of reproduction, except for her. As she dried her hands on a paper towel and tossed it into the trash, she mussed, of that fact of her biology she was extremely glad.

Behind her a little boy struggled with wrangling a gallon of milk out of the fridge. "Oh give me that," Bianca snapped. Pouring the milk into a cup, she scowled at the boy in rampant distaste. "You're going to spill it everywhere."

Evan grinned up at the lady. Her nails were longer than a wolf's claws. She was all fancied up in a white suit and with her jewelry she glittered like the sun on a snow bank. He was old enough to pour his own milk. But, he didn't mind a little attention, especially when it came from a lady as pretty as this one. "Thank you," he said shyly into the cup.

Bianca put the milk back into the fridge and scowled down at the little boy. She didn't know whom he belonged to. "You're welcome," she grumbled down at the little boy. He'd not taken his big saucer like brown eyes off of her. He just kept drinking and staring.

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" Evan asked. Draining the last of the milk from his cup, he licked the mustache off his upper lip. The taps of the sink were almost too high for him to reach. He balanced on the edge of the counter and stood on his tiptoes straining for the cold-water tap. He always rinsed his glasses. His mom said it was polite to do that.

Impatient with the child's efforts, Bianca plucked the glass from his hand and gave it a quick rinse. "Yes," she said, flashing her fangs. "Aren't you scared?" She meant to send him scuttling back to the group of kids gathered around the TV. He was like a fly buzzing around her head. He would not leave her alone. For a child, she supposed he was adorable with shortly cropped black hair that stood up on end and big round eyes. Someday, when he grew up, he'd be a looker. He was already pouring on the charm, a real ladies man, this one.

Evan giggled in a high-pitched laugh, "No." He studied the lady towering above him and saw the sadness and longing in her dark blue eyes. She pretended to hate kids. He could hear her secrets whispering in his mind. Her coldness and standoffishness around children was an act. She was sad because she could not have children. He smiled up at her in understanding. Lots of adults pretended not to like kids for one reason or another. Every reason was different. "I think you're pretty. You would have been a good mommy. I'm sorry you can't have babies."

Bianca stared down at the child, meeting his eyes in wonderment. How did he know? She reached out and stroked her fingers through his hair, smoothing the unruly strands. "You should go play."

Evan wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her his hardest squeeze. She needed a hug. Surprisingly, she hugged him back. Patting him on the shoulders with her jeweled fingers. He released her and gave her a smile. She was still sad, but he hoped his hug made her feel a little better.

Ruby wasn't nearly as comfortable around the vampires as her sister. She'd never understood Shayla's fascination with them. Hell, they were animated corpses, as far as she was concerned. But, she was their guest, as were all the families from the pack. The safety down here was better than the dangers topside. She scanned the wide expanse of the rec room, looking for her son. For a little boy, Evan sure got in big trouble if left to his own devices. She found him in the kitchen area hugging a vampire. "Evan, come here."

"I gotta go, my mom is calling me. She gets nervous sometimes." He ran off toward the sound of his mom's worried voice.

"Ok." Bianca waved as he ran off to join the other kids. She didn't have the luxury of guessing what her life would have been like if she hadn't caught O'Sullivan's attention so long ago. With a glance to her men, she rounded them up and sent them out into the twilight. This is why she did what she did. Why they all did what they did. The common thread that bound all the Guardians as one was simple. Nobody should be robbed of choices. Nobody.

Shayla wound through the crowd and handed R.J. off to her sister. Ruby's face was lined with worry. She wished she had some combination of magic words to ease the deep grooves across her sister's forehead. She didn't. Ruby would never understand why her sister couldn't simply be satisfied with a good man and a family. Why she had to constantly place her life in danger when there were plenty of others around to take the risks for her. "Take care of R.J. while I'm gone?"

Ruby took R.J. in her arms. She was practically a second mother to her nephew. His mother was always running off on some damned stupid mission. Always busy, placing her life on the line for the greater good. Ruby worried that someday she'd transcend the role of aunt and become R.J.'s mother when Shayla finally managed to get herself killed for some foolish cause. "Always."

Shayla forced a smile and gave R.J. a peck on the forehead. "I'll be back before you know it. Be a good boy for Aunt Ruby." Shayla hated to turn away from her son. But, Tracker was already moving through the crowd toward her. It was time to go. Given the hard expression on his face, he didn't like her decision any more than her sister did.

"It's time to go," Tracker said. He wrapped his fingers around Shayla's arm and guided her through the crowd. He hated that Shayla felt the need to place her life in danger for a battle that had not been her doing but they were all dragged into. They wound through long empty corridors toward the back exit.

The team was assembled. Warriors clad in black, armed to the hilt and pack, half stripped for the shift, and the Guardians dressed as ordinary as ever. Shayla wouldn't be alone in the woods, but the best anyone could do was to guard her from a distance. One hint of their scents in the area and O'Sullivan would bolt. Shayla's job was to keep him busy till the team moved in and did the rest. Tracker was going out into the field and so was Carter. Maybe, even though they hated each other, they could work together long enough to keep her alive.

Once Shayla arrived, the briefing began. In theory, the plan sounded easy enough. Unfortunately, theory rarely translated into practice as seamlessly as it sounded. She was nervous. Her part was the simplest of all, lure the bad guy in, get out of the way, and let the good guys do all the heavy work. Simple. As the team disbanded, each member on his way to a predetermined destination, she was left facing Tracker and Carter. They'd flank her till the last minute and then split up. After they left her, she was on her own, just her, her wolf, and the dark woods.

Carter saw the worry Shayla was trying so hard to hide from Tracker. This wasn't the first time she'd placed her life in danger and played decoy. She had been instrumental in Eloise's rescue. Her part then was simple enough and she'd done it well. He could hear the whispers of fear in the back of her mind in a chorus of what if's. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, wishing he could offer her more comfort than just a touch. "Don't worry. We've got your back. Even if this plan goes to hell in a hand basket. I'll be able to find you. You're right here," he said, pointing to his temple.

"I know." Shayla nodded and wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans. She should have known she couldn't hide what she was really thinking from Carter. The connection between them was too strong. Like steel and utterly unbendable. "Well."

Tracker maneuvered himself in between Shayla and Carter. He'd misread her rapid heartbeat and breathing as eagerness, not fear. He held her close and stroked her hair, unbound and free from her braid in preparation for her shift. "This will be over soon."

Shayla nodded, incapable of words. Tracker meant his words as a comfort, but all they served to do was remind her that she was out of time. Her life and the lives of the others were on the line. If she screwed up, it wasn't just her that was at risk. She sighed and returned his hug, soaking in the warmth of him. Her hand went to Carter's and gave it a tight squeeze. She had to let them both go or this night was going to be for nothing.

Shayla moved through the breezeway and felt the clang of the steel door close behind her. Magnetically sealing her off from the two men and the rest of her pack. She took a deep breath, trapping the scent of Tracker, the familiar scent of the pack, and Carter's unique fragrance into her nostrils. The steel door that separated this underground universe from the rest of the world was carefully hidden in the faux front of a rocky hillside. She stripped, shivering from the cold, and gave herself over to her wolf.