Dawn's Shadow

Chapter 1

"Here's to a new day," Chris said with a clank of the rim of her well-used diner coffee mug against her best friend, Anna's, equally battered cup. "A new day and a new me." She sighed heavily, as if saying it might actually make the words believable. She felt exactly the same on the inside as she had for the past month: empty, lonely, foolish for thinking he might be the one, and angry with herself for buying every toxic word out of his mouth hook, line, and sinker.

"He was a loser anyway," Chris said with uncertain conviction that didn't reach her voice. The words were the ones Anna needed hear, not the ones she wanted to say. A part of her, her deepest inner woman, wanted to curl into a ball under the table and bawl her eyes over her rejection. And boy, did she want to give into the urge. But, she was pretending to put her heartbreak behind her for Anna's benefit. Maybe, as long as she kept up a good front, she'd eventually believe it herself. Forcing a smile, she tucked a stray strand of thick walnut colored hair behind her ear and took a deep swallow of her coffee, filling her mouth with the bitter brew before she took back every word she'd said.

"Here. Here." Anna said in agreement, taking a sip of the steamy liquid as she patted her friend's hand in support. She hoped Chris meant every word she said and finally, after a month of tearful phone calls and long, drawn out conversations, her best friend had moved on. Gotten over it.

Anna had been at Chris's side every minute. Offering support and condolences, coaxing Chris out of the funk of her depression. Personally, Anna had never liked the guy. But, for Chris's benefit, and because of their friendship, she'd bitten her tongue and kept her opinions to herself. God, she hated it when she was right. The bastard left Chris, her best friend, high and dry without so much as a goodbye...and at the start of the holiday season, too. What a jackass.

"It's been a month since I've heard from "he who shall remain nameless" and it is time to move on." Chris turned her gaze to stare out at the endless sea of nameless, faceless early morning commuters in a rush to get to wherever it was they were going. Then turned her attention back to Anna.

Her best friend had no trouble finding male admirers. At almost six feet tall and a willowy, lean figure, pale blonde hair to the middle of her back, and startling arctic blue eyes, Anna looked like a goddess straight out of a Nordic fairy tale. While she, at a dumpy five foot-four, in heels, and way, way too many curves, ordinary brown hair, and eyes, a non-descript color that was neither brown nor green, barely got noticed by the male species. Her calendar was wide open. All the time. "A month of no calls, no texts, no e-mails. Nothing. I'm over it."

Chris took a bite of her bagel and chewed thoughtfully. "Besides, we only started dating about six months ago. It wasn't like we were soul mates or anything." At least, he had spared her the awkwardness and humiliation of a breakup speech. She'd left at least a hundred voice mails, as many texts and e-mails, and he'd simply not bothered to reply. That stung. At least, if he'd had the balls to call her, or even better, dump her face to face, she'd have closure.

At first, all kinds of scenarios ran through her head. What if he'd been killed and his family hadn't known to call her? What if he'd been kidnapped and she was the only person who realized he was missing? What if he was in the hospital and couldn't call her? Hell, she'd even taken to reading the obituaries and watching the news. There was no John Doe in either. He was just a spineless lowlife who didn't have the courtesy to face her like a man.

Anna smiled reassuringly at Chris and took another sip of coffee. "Well said. There are lots more apples on the tree, Girl." This is why she avoided relationships like the plague. They were messy. They were riddled with confusion and bullshit. And she didn't want to end up like Chris, a complete emotional train wreck when, the inevitable happened, and it ended. She had her career, her family, and her best friend to keep her company. And if she ever wanted to get down and dirty between the sheets, plenty of male companions to choose from.

Chris sighed, almost rolling her eyes at Anna's "go team" attitude. The woman's talents were wasted. She should be standing on the sidelines with her pompoms shaking instead of designing skyscrapers in a city far too full of them as it was. "And a whole lot of nuts too."

Anna snorted in agreement. After a couple of cups of strong brew and a pep talk Chris was starting to sound more like her old self again. Sarcastic. Sharp witted. And while her confidence had been severely shaken, thanks to that piece of shit ex of hers, Chris was finally surfacing from the muck of break up hell.

Anna was sure after this most recent emotional upset died down, there were going to be plenty more "nuts" in Chris's future. The girl couldn't help herself. A hopeless romantic, deeply embroiled in the belief that the "right one" was just around the corner, Chris fell too hard, too fast, and got hurt way too often. Luckily though, she had her there to pick up the pieces.

Chris jumped at the rattle of the cell phone in her hip pocket. "Who could that be? You are the only person who ever calls me." Absently, she frowned at the unknown number on the display. Blow off Chris for a wrong number? Or, answer? Answer. Who knew, maybe this phone call, wrong number or not, would change her life. "Hello?"

Hearing the rugged voice on the other end sent a surge of heat to her cheeks, her heart pounding, and her palms, sweating. "It's him," she mouthed to Anna, grinning ear to ear enthusiastically. She knew she wasn't wrong about him! Anna was less than impressed by him. She hadn't said anything. But, Chris could see it. Now Anna could eat crow along with the picked at blueberry muffin on her chipped diner plate.

Anna scowled at Chris who was nodding and bobbing her head like one of those damned bobble head. Hanging on every word "her boyfriend" said on the other end. Great. Four weeks of encouragement, damp Kleenexes, and pep talks flushed down the crapper. How dare he call her now when she'd worked so hard to put her best friend back together again! Pretending not to listen in, she picked at the half eaten blueberry muffin on her plate.

"You're where?" Chris asked. "I'm supposed to work today," she protested weakly. Disappointment dulled her excitement. He hadn't called to apologize. He hadn't called to make up. He wanted a ride home. Anna would be pissed at her decision. But, how could she leave him out there in the middle of nowhere with no way to get back to the city? A stronger woman might tell him to fuck off and hitch hike. But, she wasn't that woman. And she'd never said no to anyone who needed her.

Irritated by her lack of testicular fortitude, Chris sighed and rolled her eyes at Anna. "Yes, I suppose I could leave work a little early." She had to think of a creative lie to tell Anna before the barrage of questions started. "Yeah, I'll come pick you up." She fumbled in her purse for a pen and snatched a napkin from the chrome dispenser on the table. "Can you give me directions?"

Anna squinted down at Chris's spidery handwriting. Chris hastily jotted down directions to a place Anna had never heard of before. What the hell? Was Chris really going to take off work early and go to the middle of Bum Fuck Egypt to pick this idiot up? He had to be kidding?

Chris was broke most of the time, thanks to her soft heart, and couldn't afford to lose as much as an hour's worth of pay. Let alone the gas money to drive clear out to the middle of nowhere to pick this fucktard up. Chris was one of those people who dropped dollar bills into every street beggar's cup. Donated every extra cent she had to a whole slew of charities Anna had never even heard of. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But, taking care of the world's problems while neglecting her own needs was going to end up landing her friend in the poor house.

"Yeah, I've missed you too," Chris breathed into the phone on a breathy sigh that turned Anna's stomach. "It will be kind of late by the time I get out of town and drive all the way out there." Chris shot Anna a weak, helpless smile that said, "what else can I do?" and skimmed over the scribbled directions on her napkin. Anna clenched her fists under the cover of the table and glared at the phone pressed to Chris's ear, wishing she could reach through to the other end and throttle the guy. Chris slouched into the vinyl seat. She knew she was going to get an earful as soon as she hung up the phone. And she was right. Anna had her speech all planned out, starting with a lecture on the virtues of just saying "no".

"Ok, well look, I gotta go. Ok, see you then, bye." Chris exhaled and snapped the cell phone closed. She was in so much trouble. Flinching under Anna's disapproving scowl, she slouched down into her seat. Anna didn't know everything. The guy sounded sincerely sorry on the phone. Apologetic to a fault. Who knew? They'd have three hours together on the drive back to the city to hash things over. Maybe, they could work this out and get their relationship back on track. Anna might have plenty of men at her beck and call to toss into the scrap pile. But, she did not. And she wasn't going to call it quits until she was sure it was over.

"Unbelievable," Anna grumbled, crumpling her napkin and tossing it on her plate with a disgusted huff. My god, could Chris really be this gullible when it came to men? Did she really have no common sense? That fucker could hitch hike as far as she was concerned. She couldn't guess what he'd said to convince Chris to forgive him.

Chris sighed and toyed with her empty coffee mug, unwilling to meet Anna's condemning stare. "I can't just leave him there," she said weakly.

Anna blinked, rereading the directions her friend scrawled onto the napkin. "Yes, you can. He got himself there. He can get himself back," she said in steely determination. She snatched the napkin covered with Chris's scrawl and crumpled it in her fist. "You're not going. I won't sit back and watch you make a fool of yourself for him. Again."

Chris had a temper she'd worked years to get under control and Anna was stoking the flames to life with her self-righteous and condescending attitude. What business was it of hers if she decided to give him a ride home or not? It was HER time. HER car. And HER gas. Not Anna's. Sure, she valued her best friend's opinion. But, she had no right to tell her what she was or was not going to do and who she was or was not going to do it for. Anna had no right to treat her like a child who was not capable of making her own decisions. "He said he'd explain everything when I got there."

"I bet he will." Anna fired back. Her eyes flashed in anger at the hard set of Chris's jaw. She was going to leave work, go pick this guy up, and come back in tears after she let him break her heart again. Stupid. But, it was Chris's life and she had a right to do with it as she pleased. This time, she was not going to be there to pick up the pieces for her best friend. Chris could cry her eyes out. Again. And it wouldn't bother her in the least. Tempted to tear the napkin up into tiny illegible shreds, she threw the rumpled scrap on the table and gathered up her coat and purse.

"Sorry, I have to go. I need to hear what he has to say." Chris picked up the crumpled paper napkin and smoothed it out with her fingers. The directions were a little smeared and fuzzy, but she could still read them clearly enough. She hated that Anna was mad at her and they were fighting. But, her pride wouldn't let her apologize. Anna didn't understand what it was like to be an ugly duckling and to be so unsure of yourself. Anna was born a swan, a beautiful, graceful, pale-feathered swan.

Chris pulled out a tattered ten-dollar bill and tossed it on the table. Although the cost of her breakfast was four dollars and some odd cents, she wasn't going to wait around for the waitress to bring back the change. Waitressing was hard work and she never left less than a five for a tip.

"If you go and pick him up. I don't ever want to hear another word about it ever again. I watched you self-destruct once. I don't have the energy to go through it a second time. You're on your own." Anna slammed a five-dollar bill on the table with a loud slap and threw her purse over her shoulder.

Chris shrugged and looked up at Anna's scowl. "Don't worry, you won't." Carefully, she folded the napkin and slid it into her pocket for safekeeping. She should apologize to Anna. Her best friend was just worried about her. And while she appreciated the concern, she didn't need it or want it. She slid out of the booth and pulled on her coat, slinging her purse over her shoulder and marched out of the diner before Anna could get a chance to dig at her again. Tomorrow, they'd be bawling all over each other and making up the way they always did when they fought. But, for now, she needed to get away from Anna before she convinced her to change her mind and stay home.

"Damn," Anna cursed through gritted teeth, watching Chris stomp out of the diner. She truly regretted her temper, especially when it struck out and hurt one of her friends. She could have handled the argument better. Took her time to convince Chris that driving out to the middle of nowhere to pick up her loser ex wasn't the best of ideas. But, at seeing the hopeful gleam in Chris's eyes, she'd blown her stack.

Anna left the diner and looked up and down the sidewalk. Just in case Chris had come to her senses and was waiting on her. She wasn't. Chris was way ahead of her, lost in the endless shuffle of morning commuters. Today was a lost cause. If she called, Chris would answer the phone. But, the conversation would be cool and guarded. Tomorrow, after they'd both had a chance to cool off, she'd call her and set things right. Tell her best friend she was only acting in her best interests, looking out for her, the way she always did.

Chapter 2

Dane scrubbed a hand through his spiked hair and scowled at the oncoming dawn. He had a mess on his hands, an absolute mess. He exhaled and swore beneath his breath and picked his way through the neatly piled stacks of wood waiting to be burned. The senseless loss of life sickened him. In the chill of an early winter's pale morning, frost lay thick on the bodies. Lifeless flesh and bloodied clothing sparkled from the frost in the golden light of the weak, lemon yellow sunrise. Tonight the pyres would be set to light and the bodies burned to ash in their flames. Casualties of war. The remains of his brothers, those that gave their lives in the fight, lay to rest with all the pomp and ceremony befitting A Son. For the rogues, a mass pyre would do just fine.

He motioned to the small group of brothers on clean up detail, giving the woods one final scouring, to call it a day. The dead had been rounded up. Every trace of the battle efficiently erased from the land. So many lives lost, so many men and women he considered family, gone. His body and mind ached, overwhelmed by the task of leading this group, pulling them together to pick up where they'd left off, and start over. He felt grossly inadequate to build something worth having from the ashes left behind. But, what choice did he have? He lived. And Lucien didn't. By default, he was in charge.

He was happy for Janine and Patrick. Janine's squeals of joy at the sight of her tracker returning from the battle helped to buffer his heart against all the death and destruction that he stood in the middle of now. Unfortunately, their reunion had been short lived, he needed Patrick out in the field to help track down any rogues the brothers might have missed in the melee of blood and pain. He had no stomach for more violence and luckily, any stragglers had vanished without a trace.

The morning after the battle had been spent in recovery. Most of The Sons had borne battle wounds and were weary down deep into their souls. Last night there had been a great victory celebration and a wedding. Robbie and John Mark, finally happy together in the wake of so much tragedy. Dane felt the warm flame of hope flicker to life in his soul for a brief second. Before, with one glance of Alex, kneeling beside Lucien's body, stubbornly clinging to his cold, lifeless hand, the darkness extinguished its heat.

Today, ceremonial fires would burn brightly in triumph. But, he'd take no comfort in them. Dane exhaled wearily and retraced his footsteps to his fallen brother's side. Alex was still there, as she had been since the warriors stretched him out on the pyre, at Lucien's side. She shivered in the cold, exhausted in a bone deep way that Dane understood all too well, because he felt it too.

He admired her determination to see this through and her loyalty to Lucien. But, enough was enough. She'd refused to go inside and seek shelter through the bitter chill of the night. She'd refused food or drink. She was running on her grief, as if it was sustenance enough to keep her fragile body going. After almost two days, crouched on the hard ground beside her lost husband, Dane was afraid for her. Afraid she'd starve herself and push her limits too far till her body surrendered to her will and she joined him in the shadowy world of the afterlife. Not on his watch. He was responsible for her. If he had to drag her by the roots of her red hair into the land of the living, he would. "Alex...,"

Alex's eyes never left Lucien. Stubbornly, she held his hand. His fingers cold and stiff, pale with death. Her body heat wasn't enough to drive off the chill of the reality. He was gone. Everyone had tried to coax her inside: her mom, her dad, Janine, John Mark, Patrick, and now, Dane. She wasn't leaving her husband. Not until it was over. Tonight. Until then, until the flames claimed every last cell in his body, he was hers. And she'd be right here, by his side, where she belonged.

In death, the expression on Lucien's face was placid, peaceful and calm. It was difficult to look at him and convince her grieving mind that the hand she held, the face she looked upon, was nothing but a shell. He wasn't here. He was dead. The brothers had tended to his body with careful detail. No trace of the battle marred his pale skin. No hint of how he'd died showed. His head had been severed by a rogue's blade. But, to look at him, in his black leathers and battle gear, he looked as if he had merely fallen asleep.

Alex reached out to brush away a stray leaf that had drifted on the chilly currents of winter's first breath to settle on Lucien's lifeless chest. See, she needed to be here to protect him. Her fingers brushed across the cold sliver of the heart shaped locket around his neck. The locket was his gift to her, the one thing she'd clung to for so long when she thought she'd lost him the first time. Then, she'd had hope. She'd lived in a fantasy world where Lucien's grave was empty and he was somewhere alive, waiting for her. And her hope had been right. He was alive. Now, she had nothing but hard, cold reality.

Fate was a cruel mistress, one that deserved a good hard bitch slap across the face. For twelve years, she'd existed with the thought that Lucien was dead. That cunt, fate, had brought Lucien back to her again, only to snatch him away, for good. Losing him the first time had been bad enough. Losing him again, was going to be the hardest thing she would ever have to face. She didn't know if she had the strength to do it. He'd promised her forever. He lied. He hadn't had forever to bargain with.

"Don't say it, Dane. I'm not leaving him," Alex said, clutching Lucien's fingers harder. Although she shivered in the cold, every limb in her body aching from her vigil on the hard ground, she wasn't going anywhere. During the night, Janine had brought her a thick, fleece blanket to bundle up with and her mom had dropped off a thermos of steaming coffee. She'd refused them both. She wanted to hurt. Physical pain was real and took her mind off of where she was hurting the worst, in her heart. Her broken, empty heart that would never be right again.