Dawn's End

Carter shook his head. "No, but you're going to help me." She didn't stand a chance against him. He moved, like the predator that he was, for the kill. Wrapped in his arms around her. The wild flutter of her heart pressed against his chest like the wings of a caged bird. The heat of her panting breaths seared his skin. The vessel beneath his tongue pounded wildly. He was a killer. Through the deaths of others he found life. For centuries this had been all he'd ever known. Death.

He struck without mercy, feeling muscles clenched with the pain of his bite. Her life flowed into him. Her blood cleared away the thick muck of insanity from his mind. He should have no remorse. No pity. Her thoughts were fleeting as snowflakes in summer, melting into the blazing heat of his consciousness. If he didn't stop, her blood would be on his hands. He had enough of guilt and of death. His hands were stained and would never be washed clean. He let her go, sealed the wounds, and whispered suggestions into her ear. She wouldn't remember him, only the terror he'd instilled in her this night. He left with her tucked safely in the car behind the locked door and melted into the night.

The eerie howl of a wolf pierced the silence. He recognized the singer of the song immediately. He'd traveled so far. His feet on a whim of their own had carried him back to the one place above all that he should not be. For lack of better definition, he was home.

Chapter 4

Daniel had no interest in the checker game spread across his bed. Fallon's cinnamon colored brows were knitted in concentration as she studied the pattern of red and black checkers. Operation Cheer up Daniel was in full swing. At some point after his return he'd managed to become his little sister's pet cause. Today was Fallon's turn to entertain him. He wasn't entertained, not exactly annoyed either, but not appreciative of the little girl's efforts. He'd rather spend his time staring out the window, watching the swirling snows buffet the panes of glass, watching for ghosts that weren't there.

Yessette was dead. He could feel her absence in the very core of his soul. Her loss was a deep wound that might never heal. In a few weeks, he'd be nineteen. He had no idea of how much torture his sister and her constant companion, Fallon, planned to inflict upon him. He had no energy to work up as much as a ghost of a smile at the thought of a birthday cake and presents. Why celebrate life when he didn't live it? Why welcome in the dawning of a new year when everything he loved was in the past?

Idly he pushed a red checker across the board. Hoping that if he threw the game, Fallon would give up and leave him alone. She might decide to torture him with endless hands of gin rummy or hangman. He much preferred hangman. Fallon glared at him, pursing her lips and wrinkling her nose in disapproval. Patterns of light brown freckles dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her hair hung around her shoulders in a tangled mass of red curls. Wide blue eyes with impossibly long sand colored lashes batted at him. She looked like a life sized Shirley Temple doll. And would be just as easily dismissed as an inanimate object, if only she'd just leave him alone.

That was the problem. Living with a pack of a few hundred or so wolves, nobody was ever truly alone. It wasn't that there wasn't enough space, because there was. It was just that there was no real place that was quiet enough or uninhabited enough to accommodate his brooding thoughts. "Looks like you win," he said, emptying the plastic checkers into the box as he folded the board.

Fallon tamped the lid down on the box and frowned at Daniel. He was as exciting and as entertaining as hanging out with a humongous storm cloud, steel gray and promising rain at any second. His room used to be the cool forbidden zone no kid would dare to invade. Invitations into his room were a rarity. An invite to his room could transform a kid from ordinary to rock star status. All the posters were gone. All the music discs had been stashed away. The video games sat in an abandoned corner of the room collecting dust. The bedroom was as cold and barren and devoid of life as he was.

Ever since he'd come back from the city he'd been like this. Spending hours staring at nothing. He never came down to dinner with the pack. He emerged long enough to forage for food in the kitchen and then disappear behind his locked door. It took his sister and her weeks of bugging and pestering him to coax him into open the door just a crack. Marianne was relentless. She spent hours nagging, knocking, and carrying conversations with the empty air until he had finally let her in. Fallon had been fast on her heels.

"You let me win," Fallon brooded. He was trying to get rid of her. Daniel may be older. But, he had no right to completely ignore her. Maybe, it hurt because he was so much older and he still saw her as a little girl. She was. Six years was a bottomless pit separating them. She was going on thirteen and was just beginning to discover that boys weren't so icky. There weren't many kids her age in the pack and she was the only redhead among them. She stuck out like a cherry in a bowl of chocolate sauce. Luckily, Marianne had taken her under wing and they had become fast and furious friends.

"Well, you're just a little girl," Daniel answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. That hurt. Fallon blinked back the sting of rejection and slid off the edge of the bed. She daydreamed about the day when she'd grow up and he'd realize he was madly in love with her. Daniel was beautiful. He had deep brown eyes to die for and hair so black it had blue highlights in the sun. He wasn't as tall as the other men, but just as broad in the shoulders, thick and stocky, and absolutely right for her. Just the sight of him made her sigh and her stomach quiver with butterflies.

He was an adult and had gone off to do the things adults do. He was so far out of her league it sometimes made her cry over the injustice of it. Daniel was too much older and too much time stretched between them. Something bad had happened to him in the city. Once, she asked and he completely closed off her and the rest of the world for days. She was deep in the throes of her first crush. To her, he was amazing and beautiful, so untouchable. Unfortunately, to him, she was just another little girl.

Back before Daniel turned into an adult and such a grump he used to tease and play with her. Toss her over his shoulder for a piggyback ride. He'd walk right past her and pretend not to see her when they'd play hide and seek with the other kids so that she had a chance of winning. He used to lift her up to a branch just out of her reach so that she could climb up high to pick apples straight from the tree. All of that was gone. He grew up and she was still in the painful process of growing up. "Well, I won't be a little girl forever," Fallon quipped. Snatching the game under her arm, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.

"Shit," Daniel muttered under his breath. He flopped onto the pillows and stared up at the stark whiteness of the ceiling. He hadn't meant to sound so callous. What would have been the harm of humoring Fallon just a little while longer? It wasn't like his schedule was overly booked and he had anything better to do. Now, he had to add hurting a little girl's feelings to the ever growing list of things he'd done wrong in the very long year since he'd turned into an adult.

Chapter 5

O'Sullivan loved it. He had the wolves and the Sons turning in circles, tripping over their collective feet looking for him. He had other enemies out there. Not everybody was happy with his little display in the city. What the hell did he care? When they saw what he had to offer. They'd come crawling to him on hands and knees, begging to lick his boots with their undead tongues.

His to do list was growing. Carter had been a very naughty, naughty boy. Murdered his Yessette. Yes, of course, the deed needed doing. Yessette was demented and twisted. For centuries O'Sullivan had tasked himself with cleaning up her messes. Her demise couldn't have come at a better time. Quite simply she was one less thing to worry about. But, he owed Carter a bit of revenge for tasking himself with the duty of her execution. Would he sacrifice one child for the other? Absolutely. Carter was of the old ways. He lurked in shadows. Hid beneath the façade of a humanity that had abandoned him centuries ago. It was time, at last, for the vampires to come out of hiding and truly walk in the light. Fortunately for them, Eric O'Sullivan knew exactly how they were going to do it.

Eric got the sensation that his prodigal son was homeward bound. Awareness of Carter's presence hummed in every cell of his body. If he could sense Carter then Carter could sense him. Carter was weak, his shoulders slumped and burdened by a multitude of past sins. Eric mussed the time for sitting on his laurels and congratulating himself on his sudden burst of creativity was drawing to an end. It was time for him to act. He had no conscience to speak of. But, Carter, on the other hand, would sell his own mother for another chance at the illusive brass ring of redemption.

The Sons were not a force to be toyed with. If Carter disclosed his location there wouldn't be enough pieces left of him to fit into a basket. Eric knew this. He had no love for his son nor his son for him. Carter had finally absolved himself of his greatest sin. Yessette. While Carter's conscience might be clear. The taint of her blood was still on his hands.

His son had one great lesson left to learn. How sweet and how painful revenge could indeed be. A love for a love, a life for a life, and he knew exactly whom Carter cherished most in this world. The very creature whose blood Eric so desperately desired was so close at hand. She would provide the means to his ends and through her death he could kill two birds with one stone.

Chapter 6

Shayla dug deep beneath the silky things in the top drawer of her dresser. She unearthed the packet of pills and turned them over and over in her hands. By denying Tracker the one thing he most desperately wanted was she still holding on to the deceiving hope that Carter might come back someday? Was she still waiting for him? She snapped open the lid of the plastic case and ran her finger along the rows of blister pack pills. Today's pill had yet to be taken. Tracker had given her the freedom of choice. What would she choose? Fan the embers of a dying love or grasp the love that was so freely offered. Take what she could get? Knowing she wasn't worthy of half of what Tracker offered. Possibly, hope for the best with Tracker or wait empty and alone for Carter to come back?

The pill was so tiny, just a dot of pale pastel pink in the dark skin of her palm. One forced swallow and she'd have the time she needed to make her decision. Her fingers closed tightly around the pill. From the corner of his room, R.J. squealed in delight. A smile spread across Shayla's lips as she watched her son chase after a toy truck that had seen its share of the rowdy play of children. His bounding footsteps were wobbly and unbalanced, toddling across the room with a soft pitter-patter of bare feet against polished wood flooring.

Ramon Junior was barely two years old and already so much like his father it made her ache on the inside. She saw Ramon in the way R.J. cocked his head to the side when he concentrated. She saw Ramon's smile brighten every inch of her son's face when he grinned. Ramon's storm cloud frown darkened the corners of R.J.'s mouth when he frowned. R.J. would never know how much he was like the man he'd never met.

Shayla rolled the pill around in her palm with the tip of her index finger. Maybe, R.J., or rather Ramon, was why she took such precautions. Tracker was so dedicated. He'd willingly martyr himself for a cause, if he believed in it enough. He'd die...for her and for the pack. She didn't want to see Tracker's expression on a son or daughter's face and be left with the pang of memory. She didn't want be left behind to put the pieces back together again.

By denying Tracker, she was denying herself. Maybe, she loved Tracker a little more than she was willing to admit. A little more than was safe. With a deep breath, she dropped the packet of birth control pills into the trash. She was tired so tired of living in fear. Exhausted by being bound so tightly by and endless stream of what ifs that seemed to hold her heart under a relentless siege. Tracker deserved better than her terror. She deserved better than to live under the constant shadow of her deepest fears.

She opened her fingers. The pill clung to her palm, stuck in place by a moist layer of sweat. She scraped the pill free with a fingernail and sent it into the trashcan where it landed in the middle of a wad of paper with a soft whisper.

Carter was safe. She realized this now. He believed in nothing. He loved nothing. There wasn't room in his heart for anything or anyone. His mind was filled to the brim with brooding thoughts and painful regrets. She wasn't saying that he didn't love her. He did, as much as he could. She'd been the fool, not him. He'd tried to warn her off. She was the one that wouldn't listen. He'd held himself back and in exchange for the nothing he'd offered, she had given him her whole heart. She'd hoped her love would heal his wounds. Her dreams for a future he didn't want were nothing but bittersweet deceptions. And she'd suffered because of herself far more than she'd suffered because of him.

Time had changed her, irrevocably so. She was no longer the wide- eyed girl who entered married life with Ramon, dizzied with fantasies about princes on white steeds, and visions of rainbows and happily ever after dancing in her head. Life had made her pragmatic. Jaded in ways. This time, she knew there weren't any magical castles or benevolent fairy godmothers to right every wrong. There was Tracker. There was her. There was a life waiting for her as his mate.

Determination filled her. She was going to move on and leave Carter and all the pain of the past in the past, where it belonged. Her mind was made up. Now, if only, she could convince her heart to follow suit.

Tracker made his way up the stairwell to Shayla's room. After his long run in the woods, with the simplistic thoughts of his wolf chasing away the thoughts of doubts that buzzed like angry bees in his mind, he was calmer and focused. It had taken him so long to rid himself of his anger that the sky was washed with hues of deep purple twilight before he had finally emerged from the woods. Oh, his wolf still wanted his pound of flesh, especially if he could extract it from the vampire's backside. Subdued by the run, at least Tracker could think clearly once more. He would not take out his rage on Shayla.

The house was full of suppertime chatter and the clanking of silverware against dishes. Tracker's stomach rolled at the scent of food. His wolf had over indulged himself on a meal of jackrabbits lured out of hiding by the promise of a patch of greens freed from an icy layer of snow by the heat of the sun.

Shayla had yet to come down to supper. Her gentle scent lingered in the hallway outside of the open door to her rooms. He thought about knocking, but stood in the doorway watching her instead. She noticed his presence, quiet as he was. His scent, the mixed smells of the woods and the musky aroma of his wolf, still lingering on his skin, gave him away. She beckoned him to her with a subtle glance over her shoulder.

Tracker marveled at the control this one little female had over him. Just one bat of those long, doe like lashes and he was putty in her hands. His wolf panted in his head and rolled onto its back like a puppy eager for a belly scratch. She had them both he and his wolf tied up in knots.

Shayla turned to face Tracker. He was dressed only in a pair of sweats snatched from the community stash in the mudroom. They rested low on his hips, revealing his sculpted chest. She took a deep breath at the sight of him. Her wolf scrabbled at the back of her mind, panting wildly. There was no denying how he affected her physically. His nose twitched at the change in her scent. He knew. She fought the flutter of nervous butterflies in her stomach and lowered her eyes.

Somehow, she thought her acceptance to his proposal should be done more formally. They weren't animals. There should be more to this than rubbing noses and inhaling the musky essence of mutual attraction. Tongue-tied she took a deep breath and whispered the word that would seal her heart from Carter forever. "Yes."

Tracker sucked in a breath. His nostrils were filled with Shayla's scent. Their wolves were in perfect agreement. The musky aroma of her wolf's reaction to him hung heavily in the air. His eyes widened in surprise as the word she spoke registered in his mind. All the months of patience, baiting the traps she sidestepped time and time again, were finally paying off. His wolf howled in approval. "Yes?"

Shayla nodded, "Yes." Tracker grabbed her up in his arms and spun her. Their bodies crashed against one another, tight with friction. She thought he was going to squeeze the last bit of air from her lungs with his powerful arms. His lips were wild and desperate on hers. The breaths that escaped from his mouth seared her with their heat. His heart danced wildly against her chest while hers stuttered to maintain its pulse.

This would be the happiest moment of Tracker's life. If only he hadn't caught the faint, bitter traces of doubt's scent along her skin. No matter. She'd accepted. Finally, she'd accepted him and the life he was offering. He would make her happy, so happy, that she'd never think of the vampire again. He'd make sure of that. He'd won. He'd kill to ensure his victory, if he had to.

Chapter 7

Carter wandered the woods. He gave the sleepy little burgs a wide berth, settling for the wildness and untamed beauty of the trees. He was hardly a fit sight for human eyes with the filthy tattered rags hanging on his back. Nature understood. Survival of the fittest was her motto. The natives of the forest scurried out of his path. They understood nature as well as she understood herself and he was a predator.

The warm glow of life and light pierced the darkness of the woods. The house hummed with the vibrancy of its occupants. Darkened, curtained windows, like eyes closed in sleep, blocked out the night. Three levels towered from beyond a thick copse of trees and stretched far across a wide clearing. The house was conspicuous enough not to draw the attention of the locals, but large enough to shelter the many inhabitants comfortably. No welcoming committee had come out to greet him, but Carter could feel the weight of their wolfen stares on his back.

Carter glided through the darkness with the gracefulness of a cat. He scolded himself for being here. He shouldn't be here. He had hurt Shayla enough. Her windows were dark. The drapes had been left open just enough to show the soft glow of a nightlight from R.J.'s room. Was she on the other side of that thin pane of glass waiting for him? Did he want her to be?

Moving forward on silent feet. By now his presence was detected and a wolf, veiled from sight by the thick growth of low, bushy pines, watched him. Daniel, Carter thought suspiciously. If it were another wolf, he'd be fighting for his life instead of inching his way closer to Shayla's window. He only wanted a peek at her, just to see if she was all right. He convinced himself as he scrabbled over the porch roof's ice slicked shingles that he'd sneak one meager glimpse at her and be gone. That's all. He wouldn't open the window. He wouldn't step inside and inhale her scent. He wouldn't allow his eyes to trail down her shapely frame. He wouldn't try to guess what visions filled her dreams. What could be the harm in just one peek?