Dawn's Never Ending Glow

Patrick stood perfectly still, silently, outside the bedroom door. Waiting for

Janine's breathing to even out and fall into the familiar rhythmic pattern it had when she was asleep. Once it had, he settled back into the rocker, keeping his vigil, by her side, ensuring her safety. He planned to spend every night at his post, until she gave in or he gave up, which ever came first.

*****

Anna found Marcus in the game room, mindlessly shooting pool alone. Pouting. Dane had split Sam and him up, assigning them to separate patrols. Hoping that what Marcus had with Sam was a passing phase and absence wouldn't make the heart grow fonder. "Hi," she said softly. The interruption caused him to miss a bank shot.

"Hey you," Marcus said, grinning. It was good to have her back. Not haunted by shadows and sickly looking with dark circles under her eyes. But, genuinely one hundred percent back. He handed her a pool stick. "Wanna play? I could use an easy win."

"Who said I was easy?" Anna teased. She fished the balls out of the pockets and racked them up. "You break."

"Ok, Sparky," he joked, lining up the shot.

"Sparky?" Anna sent out a tiny jolt of energy, focusing on the eight ball and sinking it into the corner pocket. "Gee, I guess I win. Eh, Pyro."

"You heard about that?" Marcus leaned on his pool stick expecting a logical, long winded lecture from Anna's sensible side.

"Yeah. While I don't agree with what you did, although, I guess in our own way, we both tried to barbecue his ass. I just wanted to say thanks."

Marcus grinned his familiar crooked grin. "Anytime, Anna. It was my pleasure."

"Just don't ever do it again," Anna cautioned, hugging him lightly.

"Trust me being exiled to the sticks has been punishment enough. Lesson learned. The next time I blow something up, I don't plan to get caught." He smiled slyly and winked. "I've never seen so many cows and cornfields."

Anna laughed. "Me neither. At least the company is good." She handed him her pool cue and shot him a smile before she left. One last task to complete and then her slate would be wiped clean and she could set a date. The next task would be difficult though and put her convictions to the test. She was going to confront The Rogue Master.

*****

Toby hung back, escorting Anna wherever she wanted to go, but keeping his distance and giving her space. He followed her to the south corridor. "I can't let you do this on your own," he said, gripping her arm to slow her pace.

"Toby, I need to. I have to face him." She wasn't going to change her mind. This had to be done. She had to put his torments behind her before she could move forward. She had only one question she wanted to ask.

"Then I'm going with you." Toby stubbornly marched at her side, gripping her hand tightly in his fist. He pulled her back, stopping her as they approached the hulking male guarding the door. "Let us pass," he ordered in a voice that left no room for argument.

Keene bowed respectfully, his eyes warily fixed on Anna "Miss Anna." He gestured to Toby and addressed him with a quipped, "Sir." He sent a psychic message to his boss, advising him that he had company. He nodded as his mind registered the reply. "Miss Anna only," he said, opening the door wide letting her enter.

Anna took a deep breath and gave Toby's hand a hard squeeze. "I'll be fine. Trust me," she said, doubting the truth of her statement. The voices in her mind kept her calm and centered, comforting her with their gentle whispers. But, would they be enough? If he provoked her would she be able to control her rage?

"I'll be right here waiting." He took a section of the wall next to Lance, who was standing guard with The Rogue Master's man, guarding the door. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, hoping he wasn't making a mistake by letting her in there alone.

"If you don't mind my saying so," Keene began, speaking to Toby. "You're a lucky man. She is a beauty."

"Keep your eyes to yourself," Toby hissed. "You helped him get to her didn't you?"

Keene lowered his eyes in regret. "I do as I'm ordered to. I have little choice but to obey."

Anna entered the dimly lit chamber, her hands shaking as she locked eyes with Roark's. He sat casually in an overstuffed armchair, closing the book he was reading when she entered. For a minute, her strength wavered and the energy welled up within, banging at the door, begging for release to finish what it had began.

"Anna, what a nice surprise. I hardly expected to see you." Roark's tone was filled with false bravado. In truth, he was petrified of the woman. Afraid. He'd never had a face-to-face confrontation from a victim before. Usually they weren't capable of forming a thought, let alone speech. It was awkward and uncomfortable.

"I need answers." Anna was going to get what she came for. He could save his bullshit for someone else. She didn't have the time or the patience for it. The acrid scent of fear filled the air. But the smell wasn't from her fear. It was from his. "Why did you pick me?"

"Ah." Roark bowed his head in understanding. The woman wanted answers. "Directness, such a lost quality these days." He paused considering his answer carefully, not wanting to provoke her and get another blast from her power. "I saw something in you that attracted me. I thought I could lure you away and make you mine." Her anger was building, tinting the air with its spicy aroma. "I saw you on the stolen video feed, saw your picture in the paper, and I had to have you."

Anna took a deep breath, focusing on the sing song voices in her mind. "And have you given up your delusions? I belong to nobody."

"I have no access to your mind now," Roark replied, telling the truth. Their link was severed when she transformed. "You are free, rid of me."

"Good," Anna said, exhaling. "I need your promise never to do that to anyone else again." She leaned closer. Close enough to touch him. "Promise me. Give me your word."

"Anna, I give you my vow." He lowered his head ashamed by the guilt that plagued him when he saw the pain reflected in the dark recesses of her eyes. "I will never harm a woman again in such a manner." He continued, "Please accept my apologies for any distress I have caused you."

Anna huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "It went a lot further than distress." She held his eyes, trapping them with hers, the energy manifesting in her blue depths. "If you ever do it again, ever. God help you. I will hunt you down and finish you off. On that you have my word."

"Consider your warning heeded." Roark's heart was pounding. She held him captive. Her blue eyes gleaming with power, with the knowledge of what she could do to him. "I must prepare for my departure. I leave tonight at midnight."

"Good. I'd like to say that I'm sorry to see you go. But, I'm not."

Roark nodded and acknowledged her sentiment with a harsh scoff. "I'm sure you are not alone in that regard."

"I'd say that's a sure bet." Anna stepped back toward the door, never taking her eyes off of him for one second. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "I forgive you for what you did. But, mark my words. I will never forget it. Never. And when that comes from a vampire's lips, never is a very long time."

"Indeed, Anna, it is." Roark watched Anna leave the room and pull the door closed behind her. Quietly, he returned to his book.

Anna looked up at Toby. Finally, she was free, unencumbered and ready to begin her new life. "Saturday, at sunset," she said as she walked away from the chamber of horrors and toward their room.

Toby beamed, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "So long?" he asked. If she'd give her permission, he'd go to the bluffs now. But, he wanted her to have the wedding of her dreams. After all, he was getting the woman of his.

Anna slid her arm around Toby's waist and leaned against his chest. "Don't push your luck."

"Hey, I'll take it. Saturday it is." He could hardly wait. After the long months of waiting and all the hard work and patience, she would finally be his wife.

Chapter 40

The Great Father escorted Roark and his entourage through the twisting, winding halls of the compound. In the garage, the SUV idled with Dane waiting at the wheel and John Mark riding shotgun. "Where will you go?" the Great Father asked, surreptitiously. He wanted the man out of his territory. Perhaps, on another planet would be nice. But, in keeping in the spirit of the pact, he made no demands and put no boundaries on the man.

"Here and there," Roark answered vaguely. The Great Father didn't trust him, wise man, very wise. "I have many holdings and I can not be certain of where I'll be one minute to the next. You understand how it is, work, work, work." He reached into the pocket of his suit and retrieved his wallet. "If you should have need of me."

"Certainly." The Great Father took the stiff card from Roark's hand. Turning the black card over, he read the back. Printed in fine, spidery, gold script was the Rogue Master's phone number. The Great Father had no such cards or phone numbers. He had no need for cell phones or modern trappings. In fact, he despised them. He relied on the psychic ties between his brothers and himself as a means of communication. With a raised brow, he tucked the card in the front pocket of his leathers. He doubted the two of them would have a friendly reunion anytime soon.

When Toby had offered to slip a tracking device underneath the Rogue Master's skin, the Great Father had adamantly refused to let him do it. Somehow, it seemed underhanded and unethical. And he didn't need to know where Roark was, only if he was causing trouble. And if Roark got out of hand, he'd know.

There were few words between the occupants of the SUV. Dane drove down the winding lanes leading to the main highway. The plan was to drop The Rogue Master and his minions off at the dilapidated manor house. Dane adjusted the rearview mirror and glanced causally into the backseat. Swallowing back the wave of repulsion at the way the human girls fawned over their master. He'd save them, if he could. But, there was nothing he could do. As long as the girls were willing, their fates were in their own hands. His eyes slid to Keene, who sat with his eyes fixed on the rolling farmland outside the passenger side window. Keene's glance rolled to the mirror and met his. Between the two of them, there was an unspoken understanding. Dane couldn't save him either.

Roark reclined back in the leather seat, watching the dark emptiness flash by his window. His fingers idly stroked the top of Kayla's blonde head as if she were a pet. Angel purred up against him, desperate for any attention he'd give her. He grinned at the driver's apparent disgust and gave Angel and gentle peck on the cheek. "Later, love," he whispered. It'd be so easy to break the pact and end this night in bloodshed. And the time would come...but, not tonight.

He sighed and brought a lock of Kayla's hair to his nose, inhaling and running the softness of the curl across his lips. And what to do with his second? Keene sat stoically, his face a mask of impartiality, giving away nothing. Roark knew his man well. He could practically sense Keene's plotting beneath that cold exterior. It was just as matter of time before the pact between the two of them ended as well.

"I've grown weary with cornfields and farm animals. It gives the faire here a particular flavor. Do you not agree, Keene?" Roark said, baiting the man behind the wheel. To his credit, Dane and his man showed no sign that what he'd said affected them in the least. "I think I should like to go to the West coast and visit an old friend. Ladies, would you like to see the ocean? Perhaps, get a little sun?"

"As you wish, Master," Keene answered flatly. Keene knew as soon as word of the pact between his master and the Sons reached his ears that Roark had no intention of honoring his end. Roark was poking at a sleeping rattlesnake with a stick. It was just a matter of time before it struck. But, he had no intention of going down with the man. The sooner the Sons lived up to their reputation, the better.

John Mark sat coolly in the passenger side seat, silently counting down the miles left until they were rid of their dangerous cargo. The atmosphere in the SUV crackled with unspoken threat. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of the blade strapped to his hip, tightening and loosening in a fist. He'd just as soon carve the son of a bitch up like a Thanksgiving Day turkey and be done with it. But, a deal was a deal. For now, he'd settle for delivering their cargo in one piece. They were playing nice like good little boys. But, who knew how long it would last.

Dane slowed and signaled, pulling into the narrow gravel lane that led to the once grand, sprawling, manner house. He scanned the fragrant rows of blooming trees spotting the brothers he'd assigned to guard the structure and its contents. They were good, keeping well out of sight. He could sense their presence and detect the faint undertone of their scents on the night breeze. He braked in front of the aging wooden porch and slid the vehicle in park.

Keene was the first one out, trotting around to the passenger side to open the door for his master and the girls. He wished things were different, wanted to stay behind and find out more about the Sons and their leader. But, there was no way Roark would ever let him go. He prayed for the day Roark would do something so stupid that he managed to get himself killed. Then and only then would Keene be free. Until then, he'd have to wait and bide his time.

"Gentlemen," Roark said with a grand gesture, tipping his head to the men he one day planned to rule. He slid out of the idling vehicle and opened his arms wide, playing it up, to greet his followers. Their eyes met his, a variety of colors and shapes greeted him, some with a glimmer of relief, some with reverence, some with sheer awe, and some with an equal measure of trepidation, disappointment that he hadn't been killed, and fear.

"Come to me, my children," he said, his voice wavering with false emotion. Roark ran his hands along the tops of their bowed heads. The surge of power, the absolute control that he had over his followers gave him a rush. "Keene, when does the plane leave?"

"We're cleared for take off at dawn." Keene added in a small voice, as an afterthought, "Master." He gritted his teeth, choking on the word, the muscles in his jaw tightening to the point of ripping away from the bone.

"Everyone." Roark clapped his hands to get their attention. "Pack up, we leave in an hour." He turned to Keene with a wide, toothy grin. "Ready the vehicles." He enjoyed watching the man bow to his every whim and request. It was his favorite pastime, something he did to wile away the hours boredom. Think of an impossible task give Keene an impossible amount of time to accomplish the task, and then stand back and watch him scramble to complete it.

His hold on Keene was based on pure fear alone. He worried that his brush with death and subsequent weakened state would clue Keene in on the fact that his mind and his fear were his worst enemies and Roark's greatest assets. Without them, Roark truly had no power over him. Roark grinned, watching Keene ready the vehicles and round up the humans, rushing them along to prepare for their journey.

Keene finally completed the round up, herding vampires and humans into their seats and forcing them to stay put. Everyone was present and accounted for, which was a good thing. Otherwise, he'd be running all over town, trying to locate a lone straggler. He finished up the task of locking up the house and slid behind the wheel of the lead vehicle with minutes to spare.

The bastard had been checking his watch, idly standing by and doing nothing to help. With Roark seated at his side and the second SUV following closely behind him, cutting off any means of escape. Keene led the convoy to the interstate and gunned the engine. The small town and all of his hope were swallowed up by the darkness.

The brothers eased out a collective sigh as Keene led the convoy of vehicles out of town. "He's gone," John Mark said on a heavy relieved sigh. He didn't actually believe the Rogue Master would give up so easily and just beat feet out of town. He was ready for a fight. But, the night had ended without bloodshed.

Marcus couldn't believe the brothers were letting him play with explosives. He wired the house and frowned. A fat raccoon startled by Marcus's presence in his home waddled through a gap in the wall in retreat. The damn place was in a state of decay. He wrinkled his nose at the reek of mold and mouse droppings. Floors moaned and bowed under his weight. Windows rattled in their casings with every step he took through the once glorious receiving parlor.

The house seemed to sigh in relief that its days were finally over. He made one final connection and closed the front door behind him. This was a simple job. A controlled burn made to look like an ordinary house fire. Roark would have no place to hang his hat, not in their backyard. Disappointed that he couldn't put on more of a light show and strut his stuff a little bit, he frowned at Dane and hit the detonator. Roark's house went up in a little poof of fire and light. The brothers had no sense of adventure at all. He stood at a safe distance and watched it burn.

Luckily, it was about two in the morning and the house was in a rural location surrounded by miles of farmland on every side. Mack handled the technicalities associated with any humans that might see the fire and call it in. Settling for the easiest explanation, he'd assure the townspeople that a random lightening strike had leveled the place to the ground and that, no, there was not an arsonist loose in the county. Hard to believe considering there wasn't a drop of rain or a cloud in the clear night sky, but more often than not, humans believed what they wanted to believe. Sure, there'd be talk of the fire at the local hangouts in the morning. Whispered gossip. And more than a few nods of approval that the dilapidated eyesore was finally gone. A few bored teenagers with nothing but time on their idle hands might drive by to check it out. But, it would be nothing Mack couldn't handle.

Within a week, the remains would be leveled and the grass seed and saplings planted in their place would take root. Within a few months, nature would take over and finish the job. And within a year or two, it would be as if the sad remnant of a gentler time had never been there at all.

Dane leaned against the SUV and watched the place burn. The smoke and the acrid scent of burning debris stung his nose and eyes. John Mark stood beside him, joking about marshmallows with Marcus and Sam. Dane let his second have his moment and scoffed at the jokes. For now, Roark was gone. But, Dane had no doubt. The brothers hadn't seen the last of him.

Chapter 41

Janine awoke to the joyous sounds of happily singing birds. The light streaming in the window was the pale gold of the first rays of dawn. She yawned, stretched, and rubbed her eyes. In the compound, it was always dark when she awoke. The sounds of a new day lost to the subterranean world. The sounds were odd and different after so long of being underground. And the sunlight warm on her cheeks, reminding her of the world she'd left behind.

The scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen lured her out of the bed. She wondered who would be in the house and exactly how they got in without her knowing it. She was a light sleeper, a necessity in a houseful of vampires. She shuffled to the kitchen and smiled widely. Anna was busily making breakfast while Alex sat at the table, eying the brewing coffee longingly. "Hi guys, what are you doing here?" Janine asked, plopping into the empty dining room chair next to Alex, while Anna parked a mug of coffee into her hands.