Dawn's End

Carter was so unlucky in love that it would almost be comical, if it hadn't been so tragic. He preferred guilt to the companionship of beautiful women. Shayla was beautiful. Eric had to admit that. Not as lovely as Yessette. Never. But, she was beautiful in her own way. He slid free from the crowds, pondering what, exactly what to do with her once he finally got his hands on her and how through her, he could hurt Carter the most.

Chapter 10

Hasty decisions were Daniel's forte these days. Maybe it was cabin fever setting in. The snows had started early this year, sending the woods into a deep freeze in mid October and the freeze had yet to let up. He felt the bite of the chilly northern wind in the marrow of his bones and the cold was unshakable. Downstairs, children chattered noisily as they decorated the massive pine tree, cut and dragged from the woods for a Christmas tree. Christmas used to make him happy. He used to have the ability to grasp the cheer of the season and hold it like a tangible object in his palm. Now he felt nothing but emptiness and cold.

He could force himself to go downstairs and paste a useless smile on his face. Drape a few strands of tinsel on an evergreen branch and pretend, for his family's sake. He simply didn't have the energy for it though. He could not take another second of staring out into heavily clouded gunmetal gray skies either. Preoccupied by watching the snow drift downward in an endless shower on the ground. He, in so many ways, was as dead as Yessette. He wished he had died. Death would have been easier than the pretense of living.

Daniel snatched the duffle, crammed with clothes and things he would need for his trip, and threw it over his shoulder. His route was planned out. His destination was south Texas. A place that rarely saw snow, the heat would warm his skin and the sand would scour away the layers of frost from his frozen soul.

Catcher had welcomed him with open arms, eager for companionship amongst the isolation of his home. He maintained the houses, tended gardens loaded with vegetables that no one was there to eat, and swept the walkways where no foot tread any longer. Loneliness was a bad thing for wolves. They were pack animals to the core. Catcher had stubbornly stayed behind, while his twin and the rest of the pack went out in search of a bigger, broader world.

Daniel palmed the keys in his hand. His dad had been hesitant to agree to his exodus, but Gina had managed to coax him into compliance. Not that his father could stop him. Daniel was a fully mature werewolf, legally nineteen years of age, and his own person. He gave his empty room a last look over like it was the last time he'd ever see the small space again. Nothing was wasted amongst the pack. Soon, someone else would claim the bedroom. He wished the room's future occupant well.

He did his best to sneak down the stairs without a sound to announce his departure. The heavy bag on his right shoulder threw him off balance and he noisily clunked down the stairs. The bag smacked the wall beside him as he tripped. Daniel grimaced at the sets of eyes, turned from the glittering magic of the Christmas tree, to him.

Hunter gently dropped a fragile glass ornament in Gina's palm and picked his way through the boxes and heaps of crumpled packing paper to his son. "You're on your way then?"

Daniel nodded, "Yeah. I guess I should get there sometime tomorrow evening unless there's snow." He shifted his eyes from his father's and focused on the far wall, staring at nothing. There were a lot of unsaid words hanging in the air between them. There always had been.

Hunter cleared his throat. Daniel had always been rash and impulsive. He'd never had Tristen's drive or Marianne's sense of future. His impulsivity had almost cost him his life. There were so many things he could say to his son and needed to say. But, there weren't words enough to do them justice. Daniel had been wounded by the loss of his mother far more than his other two siblings. Perhaps, in ways Hunter could not begin to fathom. He settled for a hug, locking his arms around Daniel and holding on, squeezing tightly till Daniel was forced to wiggle himself free. "Take care."

Daniel worked his way free from his father's arms and gave him a pat on the shoulder, "I will." Neither one of them were good at emotional displays. Yet, tears burned the backs of his eyelids.

He quickly hugged his stepmother Gina, enduring the wet feel of her kiss on his cheek. Tristen and he exchanged a quick, manly handshake and muttered a few awkward utterances. Gently, he pried Marianne's arms from around his waist and gave her singular braid a sharp tug. Nash, his grandfather, was last in the long line of well wishers to bid him goodbye, or so he thought.

His footsteps made hollow sounds on the porch. On the newly fallen snow his steps crunched and creaked. He vowed he'd leave without a backwards glance. He was wrong. He turned to look over his shoulder. Wet, splatters of falling snow caught in his lashes and clouded his vision. Every window of the house was awash with brightness. The light shone through curtains onto the fresh white of the snow, setting it to bright with a warm golden glow. Smoke puffed out of the chimney's tall stack like dragon's breath, filling the air with the pungent, earthy scent of burning wood.

He turned his head to stare out into the woods. He'd walked every last mile of timber lined wilderness. He knew every dip and gully. He drank from the streams and ate from the bounty of the land. Nature had done her job well today. Decorated, in her own way, for Christmas in the draping of snow from the highest pine bough and the gentle glitter of light trapped in the icicles suspended from bare skeletal branches high in the tree tops. He felt a pang of homesickness deep in his heart. This was his family. This was his home. He would see them again, someday, when he finally found himself and what he was looking for in the wilds of south Texas.

He walked across the snow to his car. Tristen, miraculously, had handed over the keys to the 69 Camaro he'd been laboring over for years without so much as batting an eye. He'd smiled when he'd said that he expected to see them both home again in one piece.

The gentle tap of a finger on a windowpane drew Daniel's attention from loading his duffel into the trunk. Fallon's face filled the bottom corner of the window. Her nose smashed against the cold glass, fogging the pane with her breath. Daniel forced a smile on his face and waved at the little girl. She returned his smile and pressed her lips to the pane. She mouthed the words against the frosted window. Daniel could see the faint sheen of tears on her cheeks through the glass, but he couldn't make out what she'd said.

He dropped his bag into the trunk and slammed the lid down tight. Carefully, he crunched his way over the frozen tangles of an ice encrusted bush to the window. Fallon's lips were pursed in an expectant kiss against the glass. Daniel breathed out a breath and pressed his lips against the window to kiss her in return. The heat from their mouths formed a fog on the glass separating them.

It wasn't much of a first kiss, just a brush of lips against cold panes of glass. He shouldn't have done it, but he knew the pain of loving someone too much, with such desperation and wild hope that it made his whole being ache. With a gentle tap on the windowpane he walked to the idling car and slid behind the wheel. Determined not to look back, he adjusted the rearview mirror and caught one last long glimpse of his home and the little girl in the window.

Chapter 11

Shayla stood within range of the glimmering light from the Christmas tree. The festive multicolored bulbs shone like beacons in the darkness. The house was quiet around her. After the young had been tucked securely in their beds. The adults, bursting with Christmas spirit had headed out into the woods for a hunt. She chose to stay behind and keep watch over her son. The mood tonight had been light, full of joy and eager glee. Evenings like this, spent together with a majority of the pack under the same roof at the same time were a rarity.

Christmases hadn't always been like this for the pack. For her pack, it hadn't existed at all. Nash's pack hadn't exchanged gifts or put up a tree, but they'd feasted in honor of the occasion. The Christmas tree had come later with the blending of humans and the human traditions they'd brought along with them. She didn't mind Christmas as much as she thought she would. Presents tumbled from piles stacked at the bottom of the tree. It'd been all she could do to keep R.J. out of them and out the branches. G.T. hadn't been much easier to control either. Claire and Grant's son had chewed and slobbered on more than his faire share of the presents, but nobody seemed too much bothered by it.

The night was cold and clear, illuminated by a fat, silvery full moon. It was the perfect night for a run to forget the press of the world on their shoulders. Let them enjoy it while they could. She'd managed to tuck her worries and her fear in the dark corners of her mind. Had even managed to hang a few ornaments on the tree and stuff a few presents amongst the branches. During the lightness of the occasion, she had kept a careful eye on R.J. and had not left him out of her sight, not for a second.

Tracker watched her as closely as she watched R.J. He hadn't asked a word in question. He was an Omega and difficult to fool. He knew something was wrong, but wisely kept his concern to himself. She appreciated that he was giving her space.

Telling him about O'Sullivan would be the right thing to do. But, she couldn't bring herself to say the bastard's name aloud. As if just saying his name would bring the threat closer than it already was. She knew O'Sullivan and Carter had a past. She knew he was Carter's maker. She'd already reasoned that since he couldn't get to Carter. O'Sullivan would use her instead to lure him in. She felt the bull's eye on her back smack dab between her shoulder blades. Her concern wasn't for herself, only for her son. How she could best protect him.

R.J. snuffled against her neck. His warm breath tickled her skin. She was afraid to put him down in his bed. Her arms were rubbery with the strain of holding him so tightly. She settled into a rocking chair and gently rocked him till he stilled and drifted back to sleep. His weight was heavy in her arms and her fingertips were numb from holding him. She took the stairs slowly, climbing them one by one. Her room was quiet and dark. Awkwardly bending, careful not to wake him, she pulled back the covers on his bed and lowered him into it. Eventually, she was going to have to let him go. Reluctantly, she tucked the covers under his chin.

Her body felt lighter without the burden of her son in her arms. Her soul was heavy as ever. Her silence could endanger the entire pack. Telling them would send them into a state of perpetual alarm. They would be on alert for the 'if' or the 'when' O'Sullivan would choose to strike. She needed to talk to someone. Someone she could trust. Someone who would listen and help her think things through. There was only one person who fit the bill and that was Carter.

Her bare feet padded across the floor. The wood was slick and cool against her soles. Moonlight streamed through the window, making eerie patterns of dark and light dance across the walls. On the frost covered glass, she saw the faint tracings of a handprint. She pressed her palm to the outline. Stretching her fingers to fill the white pattern of the fingers imprinted on the glass. She knew, by the fit of her hand into the print whose palm had been pressed on the glass. Only one hand fit hers in such a way. "Carter, where are you," she whispered into the darkness outside her window.

Chapter 12

The vampires might own the city, but the woods belonged to the wolves. They had committed every inch of this land to memory. Stalking in the darkness, they hunted. Every smell was familiar. Every sound was like words to a song. Every sight remained etched in their minds. The third tree on the right was an old hickory with tall branches that hid the juiciest of squirrels just out of their reach. A stream flowed sluggishly, choked with ice through the middle of the woods before it reached its end at the river on the eastern most border of their territory. Here, the best game could be found. Succulent deer and rabbits pudgy with a dense layer of winter fat was theirs for the taking.

The wolf paused on the sandy beach to drink. His nose hovered over the icy water as he dipped his tongue to lap up a deep gulp. Movement caught his eye. His stomach grumbled eagerly at the hope of an easy meal. He lifted his black snout into the air and inhaled. The scent was not a good one. A Vampire was close. A snarl curled his lip. The scent wasn't one he was familiar with. His benevolent cousins had a sweetness that lingered. This thing did not belong in his woods. Yellow eyes narrowed, he stalked after the shadow.

The thrill of the chase usually enthralled Eric. He loved tracking and stalking prey. Reveled in the victory that waited at the end of the chase. Not, when he was on the receiving end though. Bare black tree limbs snagged his clothes. Rocks rose up out of the black earth to trip his feet. The wolf was quickly gaining on him, nipping at his heels. He'd wondered what the true capabilities of the wolves were. Unfortunately, he was finding out, the hard way. He was fast, but the wolf was equally fast. He was lethal, but the wolf was just as lethal. He was the kind of hunter that did not stop till he feasted on his prey. The same could be said of the wolf.

Eric did not like this turn of events, at all. Haphazardly, he darted through the blanket of night covering the woods like a shroud. He meant to test the boundaries of the wolf's territory. He ran toward the dim glow of civilization like a child scrambling for base in a game of tag. The werewolves were creatures of humanity's imagination. As determined as the wolf was to capture him. No wolf would risk following him into the sleepy town that sprang up out of the woods. Discovery was something the wolves could not afford. Even as ignorant as humans were of the real world that lurked in the shadows around them. A human would know that this wolf was not a creature of nature.

Eric paused within the glow of a streetlamp and stared over his shoulder. He was right. The wolf did not bound out of the thick tree row at the border of the woods after him. Here, no matter if he were a creature of legend or not, he had the advantage. He looked human. He could pass for somebody's brother or perhaps a benevolent stranger. The wolf could not. Eric stood in the safety of modern convenience and taunted the wolf. Even if the wolf had given himself over to his human form, he couldn't continue the chase. A naked man darting through the middle of town would draw every bit as much attention as a wolf the size of an overgrown Great Dane.

The wolf stalked the periphery of his habitat, snorting and growling low from his throat in agitation. Eric threw back his head and laughed. He should have realized the wolf's true limitations much, much sooner.

The wolf's human counterpart, the soul that shared his furred body shouted in warning. No matter who had possession of the physical body at the time, the other half was still present, in a blurred version of awareness. The wolf was eager to rip the vampire's throat out and eliminate the threat. His human wouldn't allow it. No prize was worth the danger of discovery. The wolf curled his black lips high over his row of sharp white teeth and bristled at the vampire. As if he'd never been there at all, the vampire vanished in between a row of houses. Leaving behind his scent, the scorching scent that came from consuming human life, hung in the air like lingering smoke from a fire.

The wolf retreated into the safety of the denser woods. There would be no feast tonight. Tucked safely out of sight, the wolf lifted his leathery black snout into the night and loosed a howl. The eerie sound echoed through the darkness and was repeated from the throats of every brother and sister. Danger was at the mouth of their din.

Eric's boots were silent as a whisper on the empty streets. The town was nestled down in its bed, sleeping away the wee hours of the night oblivious to his presence. The soulful sounds of wolf song pierced the stillness. By showing himself, he'd upped the stakes of the game. The wolves knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he was here. Death had come to town.

Chapter 13

Carter wandered the quiet streets of downtown wary of the shadows at his back. A quiet breeze stirred behind him. The Guardians gave him a wide berth. Always out of eyeshot, silently watching, but he knew they were there. He should know better than anybody. He'd trained them well. Perhaps too well, considering they were on his tail.

It had been months since he'd been inside the city's boundaries. The rapid pulse of humanity beat against his eardrums in a steady harmony to the sound of his footsteps on the concrete. The buzz of a neon sign broke the stillness of the night. Its garish red light shone across the white dusting of snow on the cracked sidewalk beneath his feet. He slowed his gait and stopped in the wash of the crimson glow. "Show yourself, Guardian," he spoke into the darkness.

Peals of feminine laughter echoed off the deep canyon of glass and steel, ringing out like a chorus of hundreds of childlike voices. "Well, well aren't you a sight for sore eyes and I do mean a sight," Bianca said. Emerging from the narrow mouth of a dark alley, she smiled like a cat with a canary in its mouth. "I'd almost written you off as dead." Casually, she leaned against a lamppost decorated in a wrapping of artificial evergreen boughs, taking him in. Carter wore rags. His tattered pants flapped in the wind. A filthy jacket too large for his frame drooped on his shoulders. His hair, his once glorious ringlets of blond hair hung in a dirty rat's nest of tangles. He was a shamble of the man he'd once been. A man she'd both feared and respected reduced to less than a scrap of paper left to be tossed about on the wind.

"Bianca," Carter bowed mockingly at the waist. "I'm surprised to see you out here doing the grunt work." She was beautiful as ever. Both light and dark with her raven hair tucked under her fur lined hood and her pale skin, white as frost. Three inch spiked heels and form fitting black leather pants added length to her long, long legs, making them stretch all the way up to here. She evaluated him coolly. Her eyes, the deepest blue of the ocean, ran over his frame and he suddenly found himself embarrassed by their almost pitying expression.

He forced her into becoming what she was. He should have recognized her for the power starved leader she was. He'd disregarded her as his second, powerless to harm him. She'd proven him wrong. She'd not only taken the city for herself, but also his Guardians. For too long she rode on both sides of the fence in her vie for power. A move that served her well and gave her every advantage. He wondered if he stood in the presence of a friend or an enemy. Defenseless as he was, unarmed and weak, she could easily kill him. He wondered if she would.

"It has been a while hasn't it?" Bianca relished the feeling of Carter's wary eyes. The world he'd left was not the one he was coming back to and he had no idea what to make of it. He didn't know a damn thing. She immensely enjoyed his moment of ignorance. She'd chosen, just like she always had, the winning team. Eric was exactly where she wanted him, out of her city. Carter was exactly where she'd always fantasized he would be, at her mercy. Today was a sweet, sweet day.