Dawn's Second Chance

The thought of going to Candace's house filled him with dread. Yes, he accepted that she'd found her one true love. And unfortunately, it wasn't him. The memory of her and all they'd gone through in their escape from the rogues was still too fresh in his mind. And his unrequited feelings for her, too raw. Hell, he'd sliced his own flesh in an attempt to escape them. Free of the tracker around his ankle, he entertained the brief idea of how easy it would be to give the brothers the slip and just keep driving.

Anna paced nervously making circles around Candace's tiny living room. She pulled back the curtains, looking out into the dawn, impatiently waiting for Marcus to arrive. This was her first official act as a donor and she wasn't sure what to expect. Absently, she waved, knowing Toby was hiding out of sight. Watching.

Although Anna couldn't see him, Toby waved back to her from his hiding place across the street. He was proud of his girl and the sacrifice she was willing to make, for him and his brothers. He didn't have anything against Marcus. In fact, he considered him a friend. But, the thought of him biting through Anna's creamy, tender flesh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. This was his sacrifice to the brothers, to allow another vampire to feed off his woman. She was his fiancée. He hadn't asked and she hadn't accepted, and it didn't matter. She was still his.

Marcus guided the car to a stop at the curb and slid it into park. After over three hours of being crammed into the compact car with his knees up around his ears, he was grateful to be at his destination. He got out and took a look around, noticing the shadowy figure of a man standing off in the distance, watching.

He shivered and self-consciously ran a hand along the back of his neck to calm his jangled nerves. The last thing he needed was another jealous boyfriend. Patrick had been seething with fury, glaring at him, fangs extended ready to fight, when he collected Janine into his arms. Marcus had taken great care with her, monitoring her closely, not taking too much, and making sure she was comfortable while he fed. But, none of that had mattered to Patrick. He was angry. Marcus wasn't sure if Patrick had been angry at him, angry with Janine, or angry with himself. Not looking forward to taking Anna's wrist, he knocked on the door.

Anna forced a welcoming smile across her lips and answered the door. Greeting Marcus with a hug. The situation was awkward enough without her trepidation getting in the way. She hoped her smile would make this meeting more comfortable than their first one had been. Their first encounter hadn't gone too well. He was injured, half-starved, and in desperate need of blood. He'd smelled the Sons on her and assumed she was a donor. Snatching her wrist, he dragged her into an alley and almost sank his fangs into her out of desperation.

She never got the whole story. Usually, the brothers gossiped like a bunch of blue haired grandmothers. But, about this, about what happened to push Marcus over the edge, they were as tight lipped as monks under a vow of silence.

Marcus released Anna from his embrace, shrugging he walked into the living room as she shut the door behind him. Candace's personal things were gone. Moved to the compound. The furnishings that were left were cold and impersonal. The house nothing more than an empty shell. "Hi," he said, eager to have this over with and get on with the mission. He couldn't help but return her smile though. "Do I still smell like a Son?" he asked, joking to break the ice.

Anna leaned in closer, sniffing. "I'm human, you all smell the same to me." Marcus didn't smell bad. But, he didn't have the woodsy, earthy, scent she associated with Toby and the brothers. More than a scent, it was an aura that clung to them. An aura Marcus lacked. "I think there's something different though. Did you get a haircut?" she teased, reaching up to twirl a strand of his sandy brown hair between her fingers.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" At the rate he was aging and his body responded to the effects of time, he wouldn't need a haircut for at least a century, maybe more. Assuming he lived that long. Marcus pushed the thought far from his mind. Now was not the time for doubt. He needed to focus. Taking her dainty hand, he guided Anna to the couch and motioned for her to sit.

Anna sat beside him, more nervous than ever. She'd seen the cloud of doubt that floated across his face and it had her worried. "Are you scared?" she asked. Taking his rough hand in hers, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Marcus had a hard edge to him. A certain roughness that not even the grace of his vampire movements could erase. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He'd grown up surrounded by the cold harshness of the lesser parts of the city. His life before had not been an easy one. And his life after hadn't been a bed of roses either. She couldn't fathom the danger he willingly placed himself in by going to the rogues.

"Nah, it's all in a day's work." Marcus shrugged, faking courage he didn't feel. Saying what she needed him to say. He did his best to reassure her. Ignoring the glint of sympathetic understanding he saw in her icy blue gaze. Even when he'd attacked her, she'd understood, saved him from losing his head, and the worst of Toby's retribution. He held her hand tightly, turning her fingers up.

Anna was a woman he couldn't begin to fathom. She could be cold and calculating, hard and unyielding as ice. Brutally doing whatever needed to be done with relentless efficiency. But, beneath the hardness, she was soft, pliable, and warm. Something had scared her and scarred her early in life. Forced her gentleness into hiding. The face she showed the world was not the face she showed him and the people she cared about. Anna loved deeply and completely. And he considered it no small thing that she considered him in her close circle of friends. She was a beautiful woman, not only on the outside with her slender, willowy, tall figure, legs that went up to here, and sleek, pale hair. She was the complete package, beautiful on the inside as well, where it really, really counted the most.

He turned her hand palm side up, running his fingers along her wrist, trying to coax himself into biting her. He sighed and drooped his shoulders. Anna deserved better than his best line of bullshit. "Actually, I'm scared shitless."

Anna ducked her head low, forcing his green eyes to meet her blue ones. "I can imagine."

He took a deep breath. "If I fail, the Sons may be worse off than they are now. It might provoke an attack. I was there the night of the battle. I remember every second of it. So much death, so much blood, and suffering."

"Is that why you're doing this? To make amends?" Anna asked, breaking her gaze. Horrified by the pain of the memories she saw reflected in his eyes.

"No. Nothing I could ever do would make it right and erase what happened. These people are my friends. I want to make sure none of them ever suffer again." Marcus felt relieved for saying the truth. Reflexively, he wrapped his fingers tighter around Anna's fingers to ward off the chill that had settled on his skin. Her warmth gave him a sense of strength and solace.

Anna smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze in return. Gently, she wrapped her fingers around his jaw, guiding his face to meet hers. "It doesn't matter how you smell. Your willingness to sacrifice for us makes you a brother." She smoothed a stray lock of sandy brown hair out of his eyes and continued. " Your love for the brothers makes you a Son and I am proud to do anything I can to help you, ni noth'tu, my warrior."

Anna's words touched Marcus. Illuminating a dark spot in his heart and giving him strength. He would succeed. Her faith in him gave him courage. He would not consider any other outcome. He had to, for her sake. Marcus brushed the edges of her mind, spellbinding her. Once he was certain she would feel no pain, he lifted her wrist to his lips, biting down and taking her strength into his body, binding it with his.

A deep low grow escaped Toby's throat when Marcus drew his first draught from Anna's wrist. He expected to feel a little jealous. Vampires didn't share their dinner or their women, especially when they were one in the same. Spots of red-hot fury clouded his vision. And a growl rumbled from someplace deep in his chest.

"Easy there buddy. It'll be over soon," Bryce said in a low cautious tone. "Let's go out on patrol for a while. Take in some scenery." He guided Toby away. "Don't worry, Lance is here. He'll watch over Anna till we get back. You need some air."

The red spots faded and Toby's vision cleared. Rushing in jealously and attacking Marcus sure wouldn't be a way to inspire Anna's heart to love him. Bryce was right. He did need some air, a lot of it. "Yeah, sure."

"Anna," Marcus whispered, gently shaking her awake. "I've got to go."

"Oh," Anna yawned. "I must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry." She sat up, still a little woozy from the effects of his feeding. She took his hand and struggled to her feet. Seeing him off was important to her. Following him, she walked to the door and paused, wrapping her arms around him in a tight, friendly embrace.

Marcus returned the hug, squeezing Anna lightly, relishing the feeling of warmth radiating off her body. "Thank you, Anna," he whispered. He reveled in her openness and her courage. Taking strength from her embrace. She might be the last human that willingly hugged him for a very long time, if ever, again. He wanted to savor that feeling and bury it deep in his heart for the hard times waiting ahead of him.

"Keep yourself safe out there." She sniffled back a tear, blinking it away before more could fall. Marcus was one of the good guys. He deserved to win. And far more recognition than anyone gave him. He was terrified. She could feel his hesitancy in the way he held her in his loose embrace. His fingers locked in the loose folds of her sweater and drew her close as if he were memorizing every curve and line of her body. Taking in her warmth and the solid feel of her.

"Keep Toby in line for me." He broke free from her embrace and smiled down at her. Cupping her face in his hand, he stared deeply into her blue eyes, amazed by the compassion and the courage he saw in them. He could do this. If for no other reason than she believed he could.

Anna shot Marcus a sly smile. "You know I will." She felt a rush of cool air as Marcus turned and shot down the sidewalk at unbelievably fast vampire speed. She leaned her head against the cold, steel doorframe, watching the tiny car pull away from the curb. Drawing her sleeves over the ends of her fingers, she wrapped her arms around her body, shivering from the sudden March chill. He was in her head. Sharing her emotions and thoughts. Everything she sent him was good, brave, and filled with hope. Not for the mission, she knew he'd succeed with that. But, hope that someday, he'd find what he was looking for.

Marcus drove through town and pulled into the deserted parking garage to wait for his pick up. Glancing down at his watch, he had hours to pass. He should spend them trying to get his head on straight. But, he could not take another second in Candace's house, surrounded by her human scent. He could have passed the time talking with Anna. But, he couldn't tolerate her trusting gaze, so confident, falsely so, in his abilities. Deciding not to sit and stew over what might come next, he headed out, aimlessly wandering the streets of the city, in search of... something.

Chapter 9

Alex stared down into her steaming mug of creamy, mocha brown, liquid lost in thought. She assumed the kitchen would be the last place Chance would look for her. And she was certain to avoid him, hiding at the dining room table. Since his change, he avoided the kitchen like the plague. Most vampires did. They couldn't stand the smell of human food. She didn't want to talk to him. She wasn't sure what she would say. She regretted running out on him like she had. He'd laid himself out for her and she'd rejected him in the worst way possible. She should have stopped running, turned around, and faced him. Explained.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his kiss. Quite the contrary. He was gentle, his lips soft and questioning on hers. She shivered from the heat surging through her body at the thought. He'd kissed her and she'd responded. Wildly and needy, pressing him to deepen the kiss. Willing him to give her more. Wanting more. It wasn't his kiss, but her response to it that left her shocked and scurrying for cover.

Her body had betrayed her. Betrayed Lucien. Responding to Chance's kiss with passion and welcoming. She thought that part of her died with Lucien. She assumed she'd spend the remainder of her very long life alone. Her mind and body fought a harsh battle. Her heart wasn't ready. But, apparently, her body certainly was. She groaned, lowering her face to the warm steam radiating off the mug in her hand. Could she have a friendship with a man that she was attracted to? How could she even think about a relationship with Chance when her heart so desperately clung on to Lucien? How was that fair to anyone?

The sounds of someone riffling through the fridge drew Alex's attention. She lifted her head and frowned. Janine stood at the fridge. Leaning heavily on the open door for support. Her spindly fingers shook, barely maintaining their hold on the juice carton she pulled off the shelf. "Whoa, you look like shit. Janine what happened?" Alex rushed to her best friend's side and took the orange juice from her hand. Guiding her to a dining room chair and sitting her down, she anxiously surveyed Janine's pale complexion and drawn face.

Janine smiled weakly up at Alex. "Long story," she mumbled. She should have taken the time to brush the tangles out of her hair and slap on a little foundation before shuffling to the kitchen. But, she felt a hell of a lot worse than she looked. And she'd barely had the strength to make it to the kitchen at all. She needed some juice. Something to perk her up and set her to rights. Alex, playing the role of concerned best friend, dutifully poured a glass of orange juice and thrust it into her hand. Janine sighed thankfully and drank down the juice in one gulp.

"I've got nothing but time," Alex said. The juice helped. Janine looked a little bit more like herself. Alex emptied the rest of the carton into Janine's glass and took the seat beside her.

Janine sighed and toyed with the rim of her empty glass. "Men," she said, sighing heavily as if that one word summed it all up nicely.

Alex nodded sympathetically and stared down into her mug of cold coffee. Men were a complication. Without them, life would be so much simpler. Dull even. But, with them, life, no matter how complex, was certainly much more interesting. Sometimes, too interesting and too complex. "Patrick?"

Janine nodded and smiled gratefully at Alex. "How'd you guess?"

Chapter 10

Marcus always wandered back to the same spot. For some reason bordering on the perverse, his feet always carried him back to the place of his birth into this life. His boots marked his steps along the cracked pavement with morose precision to the very spot it had happened. He rested his hands on his thighs and hung his head. His eyes focused on the faded, crumpled, weather tattered cigarette pack ground into the frosty bits of gravel and mud.

The job didn't pay much. But, it was an honest living and kept the roof over his head. He'd snuck out the back door for a smoke during the slow time between the late night run of drunks and the early morning commuters. He'd just taken his first puff when hands snaked out of the darkness, dragging him behind the overflowing dumpster. The hands were strong and merciless-inescapable. There was the sting of the bite then nothing but agony and suffering. Demolishing the building and turning it into an empty lot, or in this case, an urban renewal project, wouldn't erase the nights of terror he'd endured. They'd always be with him, a part of him.

Even though the ones who committed the atrocities against humanity-against him-were dead. There were others out there like them. Once his mission was completed and justice served. Maybe then he'd have some peace. He bent into a crouch and snatched the soggy cigarette pack with his fingers, crushing it into a wet ball in his fist. Lobbing the wad of plastic, crumpled bits of tobacco, and muddy debris into the ally, he stood and lifted his head. The sky above was pale with the first light of dawn.

Redemption, what a thing that would be for someone like him. With a heavy sigh he wound his way through the streets back to the rendezvous point. Marcus stayed close to the fading shadows. Watching commuters shuffle to their offices, with Styrofoam coffee cups clutched in one hand, and briefcases in the other, like a herd of sleepy sheep. Although, they were alive in every technical sense of the word, he wondered how many of them were truly living. That was one thing he could say about his life, or his unlife, as the case was, at least he was living it.

Sam sped through the parking garage, navigating its twists and curves with expert precision. She was late for her pick up. The details of her assignment were sketchy and vague. Meet up with the vamp. Set up shop in some town she'd never heard of before. Blend in with the locals. And gather intel. Simple. Spotting a silver compact car, she slowed her SUV to a crawl and checked the number on the license plates. Making sure they matched the set of she'd been given. The damned parking garage was filled with dozens of cars exactly like this one and she couldn't afford a mistake. Once she confirmed she had the right car, she pulled into the empty space beside it and slid the SUV into park.

Slinging her long black braid behind her shoulder, she unbuckled and hopped out of the driver's seat. The heels of her boots made a satisfying loud smack on the concrete. Leaning against the SUV, she stared out into the parking garage, waiting impatiently for her pick up to arrive. She spotted him casually walking toward her.

Despite the otherworldliness radiating off of him, he blended in nicely. Moving slowly, his slightly off balance gait, giving no hint to his preternatural grace. He did human quite well. His hair was a shaggy, sandy, light brown color. He was a little taller than average, with a medium build that certainly wouldn't attract anyone's attention. His clothing was as non-descript as the rest of him. Loose fitting, slightly worn denim jeans and a brown poplin jacket over a faded t-shirt. To everybody else, he'd look like just another face in the crowd. Boring, she thought. Exactly the right person for the mission. She extended her hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Sam."

"Marcus," he said, briefly accepting her hand. She wasn't what he'd expected. Petite bordering on tiny. Maybe, topping the scales at one hundred ten pounds, soaking wet. The top of her head barely struck him at chest level. Delicate like a china doll. So fragile looking he was afraid if he shook her hand, she'd break. This was his partner? She was supposed to be his back up if the shit hit the fan? She didn't look capable of defending herself against a Chihuahua let alone a nest of hungry rogues.

Her round guileless eyes were the deepest brown he'd ever seen. Almost black. Tanned skin, a rich russet hue, a pert upturned nose, and lush, full, blush lips completely disarmed him. And discounted her worth as a lethal hunter of rogues. This woman had weapons in the form of plump, hilly cleavage peeking over the low neckline of her tank top, dangerous curves hugged by hip riding denim jeans, and a tiny, compact, athletic build. Unbound from its braid, her dark hair would be long enough to form a cape around her narrow torso. A guy could forget what he was fighting for in the depths of her beauty. Forget attacks and war. Drop to his knees and beg her to make love to him instead.