Dawn's Second Chance

Her fear was illogical. But, she refused to let it go. She clung to her memories and her fear like a lover in the night. She was terrified, as if she opened her heart to someone else, she'd lose her sadness and loneliness and the last bit of Lucien she had left.

Being linked with Alex through the brotherhood gave Chance insight. Alex hated her memories of Lucien. Hated remembering the smell of his skin, the warmth of his arms, the taste of his lips, and the emptiness left behind in his absence. She was right when she'd told him he didn't know how long forever was. He didn't have a clue.

Alex shouted at Chance, not in anger, but playfully. She darted after him, plunging head first into a thick copse of prickly, fragrant evergreen needles. "You wait till I get my hands on you!"

"I'm not worried. You'll never catch me!" Chance's voice rang out. He dodged a bare branch hanging low in his path and bolted across the bluffs. Alex was on his heels, dripping a trail of muddy water behind her. He'd save her from her forever, if she'd let him. He'd replace her old forever with a brand new one, if she'd give him the chance. He skidded to a halt at the edge of a high ledge and looked over his shoulder. Her red hair was a fiery beacon amongst the sea of green pines. He supposed there were some things worse than death. Being left behind was, perhaps, the worst one of all.

*****

Candace smiled as Will snuck up behind her and wound his arms around her waist. She'd been watching the playful banter between Alex and her son, unobtrusively, from her vantage point, high on the rocky ledges above the bluffs. "Husband," she purred affectionately.

Will snuggled in closer, folding Candace's curvy body in his arms. "Wife."

Candace lay back in Will's arms. Feeling his strength as it enveloped her, washing away her worries. She was a mom. And she worried constantly about her son. Chance was an adult, fully capable of looking after himself. For the most part, she left him to it. But, occasionally when her 'mom sense' went into overdrive, she couldn't help herself. "Look at them," she whispered, pointing a chin at Alex and Chance.

"Hmm? What about them?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. Chance and Alex were goofing around on the bluffs. Throwing mud balls at one another and in general, having a good time. He didn't see anything unusual about that. Alex and his son were never too far apart. "I'd rather look at you naked in our bed," he whispered suggestively. As far as he was concerned, Candace and he were still newlyweds and officially, on their honeymoon.

"I thought the honeymoon was cancelled," Candace replied, teasingly rocking her hips against the bulge pressed into her backside. Maybe she was making too much of it. Chance needed friends. During his teen years he'd had no shortage of female companions. And as his mother, she'd found not one of them good enough for her son. Chance was something special. He deserved someone special. And as for Alex, the verdict was still out. Alex was likeable enough, Candace guessed. Woman to woman, they had no problems. But, right for Chance, she wasn't so sure about that.

"Our honeymoon is still on," Will mumbled. He nipped his way along the graceful curve of her neck, running a hand up the inside of her sweater as he paused to flick her blossoming nipples playfully with his fingertips. She stiffened against him and then relaxed against him with a deep sigh. "Come on Mother Hen, quit worrying. Chance is fine. Alex is with him."

"That's what I'm worried about," Candace mumbled under her breath. Alex was a good person. No doubt about that. But, she had a tortured soul brought on from too much loss and too many broken dreams. She nurtured her hurt and waved it like a banner for everyone to see. Alex used her shattered emotions as an excuse to get out of living and to go on in the luxury of her numbness, simply existing.

No one, not even her best friend Janine, dared to confront Alex about the sham of her existence. Alex went through the motions of living. But, she hadn't truly been alive, felt anything but the numbness of loss, for far too long. Candace would not have Alex using her son to temporarily patch the empty void left behind by Lucien's death.

"Huh," Will grumbled, reluctantly abandoning his quest for his wife's body. He saw nothing wrong with Chance befriending Alex. Candace bristled at the thought. Chance was good for Alex. Everyone had tried to patch her back together. Janine kept Alex from completely neglecting herself and wallowing in her misery. Alex's parents gave her love. But, nothing or no one had come close to filling the void in her heart left behind by Lucien's death. Maybe, Chance could. So far, he'd been the only person able to reach her on anything beyond a superficial level. And that was a good thing. Wasn't it? Given Candace's reaction to seeing the two of them together, he wasn't so sure.

Candace knew she was being completely ridiculous and over protective of her son. Will was probably the only person with the guts to tell her that. And he had by his casual reaction to Chance and Alex's friendship. Will absently stroked his fingers over her hips in the vague hope of distracting her thoughts from their son. After all, they had so much lost time to make up for and their honeymoon had just gotten started. The brothers cut Will a rare break by leaving him alone to enjoy a few days of uninterrupted privacy. And she wasted it by worrying about something she had no hope of controlling. "Is that offer still open?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Chapter 6

Janine yawned sleepily, pulling the covers up tightly around her neck and snuggling deeper into the soft warmth of the blankets. Slightly confused by her surroundings, she blinked. A contented smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was nestled comfortably in bed with her head resting in the crook of Patrick's arm.

She didn't remember leaving Robbie's house, the drive home, or climbing under the covers. Fearful of giving herself away, she stifled the urge to sigh. The only way she could have gotten into bed was for Patrick to put her there. And didn't that make the awkwardness and the discomfort of feeding Marcus from her wrist all the more bearable. She snuggled in a little closer to Patrick and pretended to be asleep.

Patrick sensed when Janine awoke. But, kept silent. Foolishly, she'd placed her life in danger at the hands of another vampire, just to prove a point. And he was still angry at her, his ego as bruised and tender as her wrist. Dutifully, he'd taken her defenseless sleeping form off the porch swing, where Marcus had placed her. He'd driven her home, and deposited her in his bed, where she belonged. Where she was safe. He vowed, no matter what, he'd never let her feed another from her wrist. Ever.

"Good, you're awake," Patrick said, dipping his lips to the soft curve of her neck. His body stiffened and tightened, quelling his anger and replacing it with something else. Something more painful and demanding. Hunger. Responding to her warmth, he trailed his lips in a path to the rise of her bare shoulder. Outrage at her offense forgotten, he grew hard, starving with his need to lay his claim on her once again.

"Patrick," Janine protested weakly in a tone that said no but denied him nothing. Feeding Marcus had left her drained and exhausted. Something she wouldn't dare confess to Patrick or complain about, to anyone. Patrick's hands continued gently coaxing, teasing the sensitive places on her body, places only he knew about, until she was panting and moaning with want beneath their skillful seductive onslaught. Forgetting her weariness, she yielded, slave to her needs, guiding him, spreading wide to welcome him home.

Patrick covered her with his body, allowing Janine to take from him what she wanted. And she did, maddeningly slowly, excruciatingly pleasurably, milking every bit of her arousal, building it to a climax with the girth and length of his erect cock until he gripped the sheets and panted from the effort of holding back. Only then did he give in to his body's demands. Unleashing his restraint, he exploded lost in a world of pleasure she alone could provide. A roar of possessiveness rumbled in his throat. Janine bucked and writhed against him, spurring him on with her sharp little fingernails clutched into the flesh of his butt. Experiencing joy of his making a second time. He took all of her body and only a taste of her blood. Reveling in the knowledge that he owned both of them, fully and completely. She was his.

Janine sat on the edge of the bed wrapped in a rumpled, sex stained, bed sheet blissfully contented, dizzy headed, and her body thoroughly exhausted. Patrick had wrung every bit of passion out of her. She felt the buzzing invasion of his mind, probing into her thoughts. She was careful, not to give anything away. But, he knew. His body pressed against her. His hands gentle on her shoulders, guiding her into strong arms. She leaned against his chest, fighting to hide her fatigue and her weariness from him.

Patrick withdrew his arm from around her waist and sucked in a breath as his fangs pierced his wrist. A peace offering of sorts, she supposed. The healing properties of his blood would restore her in a matter of seconds. If she wished to pay the price it demanded in return. The warmth of his flesh and the fragrant scent of his blood passed under her nose. "Promise me, Janine. Promise never to let anyone drink from you again."

She turned her face away from the tempting lure of Patrick's blood. She knew the magic his blood held and the heavy cost, if she drank. He meant to put his mark on her, thoroughly and completely. Not permanently, as she desired. If that were the case, she'd do it without a second's hesitation. They were as close as two people could be without the permanency of a shared blood bond. This was the only part of herself she had left. Her only defense and means of preservation to save her heart from shattering under his well intended gesture. She'd have no part of it. Sharing his thoughts as he shared hers. Knowing he wanted her. But, didn't want her enough.

Patrick wanted her promise and she didn't offer it lightly. She wouldn't make a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. If it were needed, she'd be the first in line to offer her wrist. Feeding Marcus, weird as it might seem, gave her a sense of purpose and fulfillment. Gathering her strength, she pushed off the bed and stood on wobbly legs. "I'm fine, really."

Patrick released Janine, watching her slowly made her way into the bathroom. She wasn't fine. He could see the truth in her wobbly steps. He licked the wounds on his wrist closed, scowling at the reminder of her stubborn refusal. Offering his blood to her filled him with pride and scared him to death. What horrors would she find there hidden in the shadows? He huffed out a breath, pulled on a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt, and left her alone. Retreating to do what he did best, hide. While she did what she did best, pretended.

Chapter 7

Chance cleared the tree line, bolting into the clearing. Trotting to the edge of the bluff he squinted against the dawn. Sometimes, it was easy to take for granted the wonders of this new body with all of its abilities. Until daylight put him in his place and had him scrabbling for the protective lenses tucked in his pocket. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, filling the sky with hues of gray and pink. The view was dazzling from his vantage point, perched high above the sleepy valley below. He walked over the steep, rocky, edge, watching the beauty of the morning unfold.

Alex silently lowered her body, sitting on the massive expanse of a cold, hard, gray boulder, allowing Chance his moment of quiet before the start of another busy day, his human moment. She threw her head back, inhaling deeply of the fresh cool morning air and locking it in her lungs. Every vampire had things they missed from their human lives. Simple things they took for granted when they had them at their disposal. Hers was coffee. For Chance, it was the breaking of the dawn.

Chance turned away from the edge and sat down next to Alex, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "Hey there you dirty girl," he teased. Running his fingers along a patch of dried mud clinging to her cheek, he tsked playfully. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his fingertips. Her brown eyes met his, glittering in the pink hue of the lightening sky. Gently, he cupped his palm around her chin and guided her face to his. This was a tactically dangerous move. But, maybe it was the exhilaration of the run or the promise of the dawn that gave him courage and a false sense of bravery. Maybe, it was just something he wanted to do. Slowly, he lowered his mouth, pressing his lips to hers, stealing an innocent, sweet kiss.

Alex knew Chance was going to kiss her. But, she didn't try to stop him. His touch was warm and as inquisitive as the kiss. Offering an invitation she longed to lose herself to. She wound her hand through his hair, pulling him closer. Running her tongue along his lips, she tasted his shock and his eagerness. Just a minute of indulgence, a few seconds of solace from her prison of loneliness, was all she wanted. She fought against the passion stirring to life inside of her. Not expecting her heart's betrayal so quickly or with such abandon. Abruptly, she pulled back, gasping, shamed and embarrassed by her reaction to the chaste press of his lips against hers. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that." Before he could say a word, she darted into the woods, leaving him sitting alone on the boulder, staring after her.

Chance muttered under his breath, kicking at the soggy ground and cursing his stupidity. Why did he have to kiss her? Why didn't he try to stop her from running off? "Damn," he grumbled, scraping his hand across his jaw in frustration. Why did she have to kiss him back? She'd looked so pretty, amazing really, with the pink light of dawn setting the reds of her hair ablaze, turning the soft brown of her eyes, golden with the heated embers of unrealized passion.

A shudder ran along his spine as he thought about the way her lips, full and soft, felt against his. She'd run off in the woods, embarrassed and in shame. She wouldn't want to hurt him by rejecting him. What choice did he leave her but to run? "Idiot," he hissed, ashamed by his lack of restraint and the way he'd let his hormones overrun his common sense. He hoped he hadn't lost her friendship.

A deep chuckle echoed through the woods behind him, distracting Chance from his self-damnation long enough to look up. John Mark stood lounging against the base of a tree with his arms folded, mocking him. "Not a word," Chance grumbled in warning. Quickly turning away from the hulking bulk of warrior. He took a deep breath trying to collect his thoughts. Thoughts he wasn't used to sharing. Thoughts Alex would know too, if she concentrated on discovering them.

John Mark noticed Chance's discomfort and the defeated slump of his shoulders. Heeding his warning, he thought it best not mention the kiss he'd witnessed a few moments ago. Chance showed real promise. The kid was a mentor's wet dream. Mastering every challenge set before him with graceful ease. But, mastering Alex's heart? John Mark didn't know if Chance had the stamina for that.

Alex had been alone too long. Frozen solid in a state of suspended animation since Lucien's death. John Mark and the rest of the brothers saw her as a sister. They honored her privacy and stayed out of her head out of respect for the fallen brother. To them, it was an unspoken rule. She was off limits. Chance didn't have the same qualms about pursuing her romantically. He hadn't known Lucien. He hadn't seen Alex happy, truly happy, the way she had been with Lucien. He didn't know how far she'd fallen and how much of a shadow of her former self she was. Lucien wasn't the ghost. The only lost soul-the only ghost around here, was Alex.

The kid had his work cut out for him. John Mark hoped Chance would be able to give Alex what she needed. Start her heart beating again. "Saddle up, princess. We've got training to do."

Chapter 8

"There, that should do it," Toby said to himself. proudly surveying his handiwork. He'd spent all night wiring Anna's house. Transforming it into a temporary base of operations. From here he should be close enough to monitor Marcus. But, not too close rise suspicion. If the rogues were where Marcus thought they were. There were other places he could have chosen to set up shop, Candace's place or Janine's old apartment. But, here camped out in Anna's dining room was so much cozier.

Sleepily, Anna shuffled her way into the dining room, or what used to be a dining room. Now the cozy space looked like an electronics nightmare. Black cables snaked their way across her highly polished hardwood floors. Bundles of multicolored wires draped across the lemon chiffon colored paint on her walls like festive garland strung up for the holidays. Keyboards and monitors were scattered across her vintage white lace tablecloth. Stifling a sigh, she stepped over a tangle of cords, blocking her way to the coffee pot. "Morning," she mumbled unenthusiastically as she flicked the on button.

Toby was wickedly smart with technology. But, he lacked common sense sometimes. Annoyed that he'd invaded her home and in the process of destroying her dining room couldn't be bothered to turn on the coffee pot, she mentally kicked herself for saying 'yes' to his request. She should have known better. Ever since the day they met, her life was in a constant state of upheaval. Most of the time, it was a pleasant upheaval. The kind that curled her toes and sent shivers of pleasure up her spine. Regrettably, this time, it was not. Grunting in displeasure, she picked her way across the dining room to the shower.

Toby grinned, casually watching her backside sway beneath the folds of her nightgown. He could tell she wasn't happy about the disheveled state of her dining room. It certainly didn't help that she was not a morning person to begin with and he'd forgotten to turn on the coffee pot. The woman needed about a gallon of that stuff to be marginally civil first thing in the morning. Her scowl would have made a lesser man piss himself. But, he knew his Anna. She was all bark and no bite. He was this close to his goal. He was in her home. Had shared her body. Taken of her blood. And soon, he'd win her heart for good.

Anna hurriedly showered and changed into clean clothes taken directly off the rack and stuffed in a sealed plastic bag. It was important that Marcus have no trace of the Sons' scent on him when he went to meet the rogues. She hadn't bothered with showering or breakfast before she left. Candace lived on the other side of the city. Not an easy commute in between the onslaught of rush hour traffic. At daybreak on a weekday, it was a painful drive through the heart of the city. After fighting an hour and a half to make the thirty-mile drive, she'd barely had time to pull into the driveway, rid her skin of Toby's scent, and change before Marcus arrived.

Marcus mashed the accelerator to the floor as he changed lanes, barely making it to his exit before a maniac in a blue Ford Explorer tried to cut him off. He'd put the tiny economy car belonging to Chris through its paces on the drive to the city. He was on his way to Candace's house to meet up with Anna.

He was sick of blood, still feeling sluggish and stuffed from his prior feedings. Leigh and Alexander had been nice enough. More than willing to do their part. What he wouldn't give to eat something else. A pizza loaded with cheese and pepperoni topped off by a cold beer would sure hit the spot. But for him, another warm-blooded wrist was waiting.