2 comments/ 7101 views/ 4 favorites Dawn's Never Ending Glow By: msnomer68 The Native Dawn Series book 7 : Rogue Dawn book 3: Anna and Toby's story Dawn's Never Ending Glow * Prologue The bastard knew how to put on the pressure. And Keene, as always, was his scrabbling servant. A whipped pup cowering at the master's feet. The Son of a bitch expected the impossible. But, of course didn't he always? Find a woman- one woman- one pale, blonde-haired beauty with eyes the color of arctic ice. The city stretching out beneath him in a series of twinkling lights that sparkled like gemstones against a backdrop of black, velvet wasn't the largest city he'd ever seen. Far from it. But, to find one human being amongst the teeming population of eight hundred thousand-give or take a few thousand- not very damned likely. With nothing more than a face, a first name, and the threat of his master's punishment, if he failed, to drive him on, Keene lowered his big body from its perch. The soles of his boots hit the concrete with a soft whisper. In the wee pre-dawn hours, he didn't pretend to try to be human. He moved with a predator's grace and speed through the deserted downtown area and searched for his proverbial needle in the haystack. God help the woman, if indeed, he found her. That thought was incentive enough to make Keene happy about the master's punishment. The bastard wouldn't kill him. Oh yeah, Roark would make him wish he were dead. But, then again, his master had been doing that for almost a century and a half. Nope, Roark needed him. Relished in torturing him by doing nothing more than keeping him alive and in his service. Keene moved through the silence, one heavily booted foot placed in front of the other, and thought the thought that had been plaguing him since his birth into this life. Why didn't he just keep on walking? He knew why. And the knowledge condemned him. One day, he'd go after his master. Kill him. And then, he'd walk, and just keep walking. Around him the city started to wake. With a sleepy sigh, the streets breathed their first breaths of the morning. Traffic lights, flashing yellow for the night, resumed their red, yellow, green routine. The smell of freshly baked rolls and coffee wafted down the empty sidewalk from the warm glow of a bakery's plate glass window. Somewhere off in the distance a garbage truck rattled down an alley. Keene walked past a church, the peel of morning bells sounded out, heralding in a new day. He looked up at the steeple, at the cross on its peek, standing out in pale relief from the dim gray of dawn, and wondered would God still have him? Keene pulled his black stocking cap over his bald head. Not because he was cold, but somehow, standing at the foot of those stairs, under God's eye, made him feel raw and exposed. As if God were actually there, watching him. And the Man Upstairs didn't particularly like what he saw. At least the Heavenly Hosts and he agreed about one thing. He didn't like himself very much either. The deliveryman hefted his bulk from behind the wheel of a white panel truck. Fished in the back and hefted his burden of Sunday editions over his shoulder. Spat up a ball of phlegm from his throat in a greasy green-gray lump on the concrete, and loaded the bundle newspapers into self-serve machine at the corner of the platform. Lazily scratching his ass, the man ambled back to his truck, climbed behind the wheel, and put the thing in drive. Good thing he did too. There were still plenty of shadows. Plenty of darkness left before dawn. And Keene was hungry. Beneath his feet, the train platform rumbled as the commuter train screeched to a halt. The doors whisked open, delivering nobody and picking up a whole bunch of nothing, this early on a Sunday morning. The streets were vacant, as if the whole city had partied too hard last night and needed time to sleep off one hell of a hangover before Monday morning. Keene had no money. But, he really didn't need the two-dollars and fifty-cents in coin required to purchase the Sunday edition. He balled up his fist and smashed his hand through the glass. Too easy really, even a human could do it. Casually brushing away the shards of glass, he snatched up the bulky Sunday edition and tossed the slick, colorful ads, the classifieds, and the funny pages into the trash. Keene skimmed the headlines with mild disinterest. In the whole course of human history, nothing much seemed to change, just the players. He tossed the front page into the garbage and flipped through the sports section. Yeah. More of the same old there too. In his day, his sport had been much more critical than catching a ball or running the mile in less than five minutes. Hell, he'd been running for his life and dodging the bullets of the Confederate army. Hadn't been any fun. He hadn't made any headlines. And apparently, he hadn't been that good at it. Scanning the social pages, who knew, maybe his mystery woman was a socialite, he read through the marriage announcements and the obits. It'd be a very fortunate thing for her, if he saw her picture and her name listed among the dead. He didn't. Of course, not. His blonde needle in the haystack was alive and kicking. For now. He turned the page, the newspaper in his hands ruffling in the spring breeze, and what do you know? There she was. Smiling up at him from a grainy black and white. Wasn't it supposed to be a good thing to have your picture in the paper? Not for her. Her fifteen minutes of fame was the noose around her neck. Keene cursed under his breath and carefully folded the newspaper, tucking it into the front pocket of his jacket. Timing was everything. And unfortunately for her, her time was up. He had no other choice but to do what he had to do. And God forgive him for it. Chapter 1 Anna spent the night partying till dawn at Alex's wedding reception and was wiling away the morning lounging in bed, sated and sleepily leaning across the muscular bulk of Toby's bare chest. She was leaving today. Returning to the city, and she didn't want to waste a minute of it doing something as mundane as sleeping. These precious few hours they had left together had to last. The recent visit of an uninvited Rogue Master to the compound had left The Sons vulnerable. Dane wanted security beefed up. And Toby being the brothers' main tech guy, had to oversee the installation of even more cameras and surveillance equipment. As much as Anna's heart ached to have him by her side. She got it. She understood that the brothers needed him more than she did. Anna flipped through the Sunday paper, looking for her picture. The article was supposed to run in this edition. Proud, but a little embarrassed at the attention, and maybe just a bit egotistical, she wanted to read what the article had to say about her. She'd spent months working on the project, redesigning the children's wing of the hospital. Laboring over the slightest detail to create a friendly and inviting space for both the patients and the staff. She hated publicity-nah, not really- this was just the boost her career needed. She scowled at her photo, frowning at the grainy black and white image and the whole five-sentence paragraph, months of hard work and planning had earned. So much for making full partner in the firm before she turned thirty-five, she'd be lucky if her boss didn't demote her to cleaning toilets. She looked awful. The light mint green suit she'd worn that day looked a dreary shade of pale gray in the black and white picture. She shook off her dismay and quickly turned the page before Toby saw the picture. It wasn't like anyone was going to notice the article anyway. Tucked neatly behind the sports page, her whole five-sentences worth of fame were hardly worth mentioning. "Hey, is that my girl?" Toby asked, turning the page back to the write-up. Gently, he rubbed his stubble-covered cheek across the top of her head and read the article. Her career was important to her and she'd worked her ass off on that project. And all she got was five measly sentences for all that hard work? "It is," Anna answered, shrugging as if getting her name and picture in the paper were just an everyday occurrence and the article weren't that big of a deal. Ok, so it was a big deal to her. But, she really didn't want to talk about how badly the meager paragraph that barely scratched the surface of all the months of hard work, hurt. "Wow, your own article. I'm proud of you." Toby dipped his head and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. He sensed Anna's bruised feelings beneath the hard exterior of her forced, impartial expression. Yeah, the article mattered to her. A lot more than what she let on. He had exceptional vision, catching even the slightest detail of the photo. Anna looked amazing, so professional in her suit, and tightly wound bun. Even if the news media didn't fully appreciate her, he sure as hell did. And it was time to tell her exactly how much she meant to him. Reaching under his pillow, Toby wrapped his fingers around the garter he'd beat the other guys out of at the reception. And twirled the scrap of delicate ivory-colored lace on the tip of his finger. He smoothed stray strands of her platinum blonde hair away from her face, gathering them in a loose ponytail in his palm. "I caught the garter," he said playfully, testing her reaction. Anna blushed, trying to act cool. "And," she said forcing her attention away from the hard planes of Toby's well-defined chest and abs, up to his brown eyes, the color of rich, decadent, chocolate. She could spend hours gazing into those depths and see something different in each passing second. Toby was a fighter, fiercely intelligent, ruthless in protecting those he cared about, and most of all, deeply in love with her. Toby caught Anna's chin in the palm of his hand and gently, drew her face to his. God, she was beautiful. Her pale blue eyes sparkling like ice in the wintertime sun. Her skin so smooth and pale, pristine like freshly fallen snow. "I'm next." Anna swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. "Did you have someone in mind." She couldn't control the quiver in her voice. Was he going to ask her to marry him? Now? When they'd be apart for who knew how long? The conversation certainly seemed to be going in that direction. Her heart pounded with anxiety, a certain measure of fear, and the toe-curling rush of adrenaline. She couldn't kid herself. She knew this was coming. Knew he'd ask. And she'd practiced her answer at least a thousand times in her head. "Yeah. I think I do." Toby's lips curled in a smile. He sensed her nervousness. He had spent almost the last year working on her, baiting his hook, and dangling it in front of her nose till she took the bait. Carefully gauging Anna's response, waiting while seconds agonizingly ticked by with the steady, slightly rapid beat of her heart. Yeah, it was time to reel her in. Make her officially, finally, and forever, his. Anna scoffed, "Lucky bitch." She was going to make Toby work for it. They'd been playing this game for long enough and if he wanted her, he was going to have to do it the right way and ask. A smile curved her lips at the sight of her fearsome vampire stuttering and nervously sweating over the proposal. Toby slid Anna down on the bed, wrapping the garter around her wrists. Binding her with the gauzy band of silk and lace. "I am a good catch aren't I?" he stated as if it were a matter of fact everyone should know. This wasn't how he imagined this particular scene going. He'd rehearsed, for hours, in front of the mirror and practicing with John Mark. Not that it didn't feel and look ridiculous, kneeling on one knee, asking the big warrior to marry him. Nope, this thing wasn't going the way he'd planned at all. "Anna, what are you doing? Oh, I don't know, for the rest of your life?" "My schedule's wide open," she replied, her voice small and catching in her throat. She had a million and one reasons why she should say no. Refuse him and the ring, she hadn't noticed, and he worked off his little finger with the intention of sliding it in place on her left hand. And only one damned good reason for saying yes, extending her ring finger, and gasping as he gently slid the ring over her knuckle. Love. Anna's heart thudded in her chest as she eyed the ring. It was beautiful. An intricate, filigree, platinum band, surrounded a pale, milky-white moonstone, round as a full moon at midnight, encircled by a ring of chocolate diamonds, the exact shade of his eyes. She'd never seen anything like it in her life. And she'd never seen anything more perfect. "Is that a yes?" Toby asked, breaking the silence. He already knew her answer. He could see it hovering on her trembling lips and in the gentle quiver of her finger as he slid the ring over her knuckle and tucked the band into place. Gently, knowing she wasn't getting away from him, he untied the garter from around her wrists and cupped her fingers in his palm. Running his thumb over the curve of the moonstone, he waited for her answer. Tears gathered at the corners of her pale, blue eyes. Not sad ones, but for once, in a past so overwrought with sorrow and the heartache that life sometimes dumped on a person's shoulders, happy ones. Anna was incapable of speech. All she could to was stare down at Toby's thumb, slowly tracing circles over the stone and nod like a bobble head in the back windshield of a car on a bumpy stretch of road. Tears blurred her vision. But, she blinked them away. They were happy tears. But, they had no place here. Not in her future. Not in Toby's presence. With her hands free and her wrists unbound, she was free to wrap her fingers through his sleek, soft, velvety midnight black hair and pull his mouth, eagerly, to her lips for the deepest, most encompassing kiss of her life. "I love you." Toby kissed Anna with all that he was worth. His heart thudded in his chest like a bongo drum. She said 'yes', in that special way that was uniquely her. There were a million reasons for her to say no. And she'd said 'yes' despite them all. She accepted him for what he was. Leapt into a future that could only have one inevitable end. They had time though. And soon, they'd have all the time in the world. ****** Roark kicked back in his chair, parking his Italian loafers on the desk. He'd read the article at least a dozen times. Stared at the picture for hours. His Second never failed to amaze him. Keene was too good for his own good. Roark had expected the man to fail. Looked forward to the weeks of punishment that failure would bring. Nothing purified a man, broke his soul, and forced his obedience like suffering and agony. He needed something to rein the man in. Humble the arrogant son of a bitch. Flicking the corner of the newspaper back, he glanced at his Second and turned his attention back to the article. Soon enough, he'd have to eliminate himself of his greatest asset and greatest threat. Both the men knew the time was coming. But, for now, Keene still had his uses and Roark didn't have time to break in a new Second. Besides, he hadn't found one worth the effort. Today's humans, with their video games and soft lives, were far too easily damaged. Their minds too easily warped to be of any use. Forcing thoughts about Keene's eventual end out of his mind, Roark focused on the woman. Finally, the papers had something of interest to print. Now, he knew who the object of his desires was, her full name, and where she worked. Getting to her would be easy. He traced the outline of her image with his fingertip, almost as gently as a lover's caress. "Soon Anna," Roark promised on a soft whisper. "We will meet. Very soon." Chapter 2 Janine tossed back the covers and groaned with a heavy sigh. After the wedding ceremony and a happy, glorious reception, she'd retreated to her old room and spent the remainder of the night, which amounted to about one hour, miserable and alone, pouting. Patrick popped in once, after the wedding to offer his congratulations to the bride and groom. After slapping Chance hard on the back and giving Alex a gentle squeeze around her shoulders, he was gone. Back into the woods, hot on the trail. He hadn't even bothered to stop long enough to give her so much as a peck on the cheek. And with all those happy couples staring lovingly into one another's eyes, didn't that just piss her off. Not to mention the embarrassment of standing there alone, doling out punch and conversation mints, like a pathetic loser, to the few humans milling about. What was his problem? One would think her near miss with death would have opened his eyes and made him just a teensy bit more appreciative of her. Apparently not. If anything, her little run in with the Rogue Master, made Patrick more distant than ever. Exhausted beyond measure, not just from the wedding and the reception, or the hours of laying awake, staring at the ceiling, she threw her feet over the edge of the bed and ambled to the bathroom. Determined to make today count for something, she cranked on the hot water and stood beneath the spray. Whatever they were, Janine could not let Patrick's issues become her problem. She longed for some girl time with Alex, a little BFF one on one time. But, Alex was a newlywed and didn't need to be brought down by the latest crisis in Janineland. Nope, Janineland was not a happy place to be this morning. She climbed out of the shower and wiped at the fogged mirror with the edge of her towel. Examining her reflection, she gave herself a long, long pep talk. She still had it, whether Patrick wanted it or not. She was damned gorgeous. Chin length, golden-blonde, hair expertly tousled in corkscrew curls, framed her face. Her blue eyes were large and expressive, fringed with dark lashes, made all the more intense by her mascara and the shades of eye shadow she carefully selected. Her mouth was full and sultry, the lips pouty and made for kissing. There wasn't a wrinkle on her. Ok, maybe a few, faint, teensy ones in the corners of her eyes and at the curve of her lips. Janine sucked in her belly, threw back her shoulders, and turned sideways to evaluate the whole package. She had great tits, small, but amazing, with high rosy peaks and the perfect uptilted curve. Thanks to John Mark's grueling workouts, her waist was narrower than it ever had been and tiny ridges of muscle lined her abdomen. Her thighs were lean and her ass firm. Ok, well, her posterior was still too big for her liking. She was short and curvy. Just the way God made her. And she was bound to have a few problem areas here and there. Completely psyched up, she blew a kiss to herself and tossed the damp towel into the corner of the room. In the stark white of the bathroom and the iridescent light, she looked too pale. She needed a little color. Janine shimmied into her favorite, neon, pink bikini and slid into a pair of low riding, hip hugging, cutoffs and a t-shirt. According to the forecast, the high for the day was going to be in the mid seventies and sunny. She had been living according to Patrick's schedule for so long, up primarily at night, and she was in desperate need of some sun. A little time baking in the rays would get rid of her funk. She was sure of it. She swallowed down the prickle of fear running down her spine and grabbed a beach towel. She wasn't about to let some drooling rogue dominate her life. Yesterday, she had been on the bluffs, alone, decorating for Alex's wedding when Roark had appeared out of nowhere. He hadn't attacked, instead offered a gift to the bride and groom. But, he was creepy as hell and scared the shit out of her. The woods were crawling with Sons on patrol and she knew a sunny spot not far from the main entrance to the compound. She'd be safe enough. Loading a small canvas bag with suntan oil, her iPod, and cell phone, she slid into a pair of flip-flops and headed out. Dawn's Never Ending Glow ****** Patrick was exhausted. But, he refused to give in. That rogue had gotten past all their defenses and breeched their territories. Endangered the life of the woman he cared about the most. And he was still out there, somewhere. Patrick gathered what energy he had left and dropped out of the trees, making another pass through the woods. He couldn't fail Janine like he had Nikki. The rogue had to be stopped. Patrick had been held captive by a group of rogues. He endured countless beatings. They kept him weak, starving him to the point of insanity. As a cruel joke, they used a human girl to torture him, tempt him to become like them and betray the Sons. He refused to give in. Keeping Nikki alive became his priority. But ultimately, they both knew what her fate would be, even if he sacrificed himself, she wouldn't come out of her captivity alive. She offered her life to him and he took it, drinking it all in with greedy gulps, until she was drained, lifeless in his arms. Her life had given him the strength he needed to escape. His brothers found him innocent of breaking one of their highest of laws, the penalty of which is death. And he'd done his best to move on. Forget. But, he still felt the guilt. Janine had rescued him from his self-imposed condemnation. But, he still felt the pain, living the life he'd stolen away from another. Everyday. ****** Alex rested her head in the crook of Chance's arm. They had spent the night making love, celebrating their honeymoon. Alex was happy and content, at peace for the first time in what seemed an eternity. As much as she longed to stay wrapped up in the cocoon of their love, she knew there was work to be done. Not wanting to spoil her special day, the news of her wedding crasher had been kept carefully hidden. She'd already lost one love to the battle between the Sons and the Rogues. And she wasn't about to lose another husband to them. Now that she knew, she needed to be out there helping out. Tracking the bastard down. She trailed her fingers down Chance's bare chest. "Wake up sleepyhead." Chance yawned and looked down at his wife. His wife, he still couldn't believe she was his. Her large brown eyes framed by ginger colored lashes looked up at him lovingly. He pushed back a fluff of crimson waves and kissed the top of her head. "Ready for another round?" he asked, pressing his erection hard against her hip. Alex giggled, scooting her pelvis out of his reach. "You have a one track mind." She stared up at his masculine features, deep brown-green hazel eyes, sleek dark hair, and a hard chiseled jaw line, marveling in their beauty. "No, I was wondering if you wanted to make a track through the woods, give the guys a hand." Chance groaned. Of course, he wanted to be out there doing his part, helping to track the bastard down. He was a warrior and it was his job. But, he also wanted to remain in bed, making his wife cry out his name in passion. That was his privilege. "It's our day off," he whined. "I shouldn't have told you about Roark." "No, I needed to know," Alex replied in a huff. "Like yesterday." She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to Chance, refusing to argue or put the issue up for debate. Chance slid closer, wrapping his arms around Alex's waist and tracing the outline of the tattoo splayed across her back with the tip of his tongue. Like all the members, her tattoo was individual, customized for her, indicating her rank and standing in the organization. Her skin was cool and smooth against his tongue. The taste of her body stirred his need to life. "Just a few more minutes?" He slid his hands up along her belly working his way up to cup a full breast in each palm. Alex leaned back into Chance, relishing the sensation of his tongue lapping at her skin and the warmth of his hands on her breasts. He had a very convincing argument, his tongue and hands being put to good use. A few more minutes couldn't hurt. The woods were already full of trackers and warriors anyway. "Just a few more," she replied, lying back on the bed sighing in joy as he slid up along her body. ******* Lance and Bryce huddled around the console. Their eyes glued to the monitor. Chuckling under their breath. Killing time. They'd patrolled all day and night, and they were due back in the city by this evening. The pair of trackers were a sharp contrast to one another. Lance with pale white-blond hair and skin and Bryce with his short, curly black hair and an olive complexion. Light and dark. Night and day. "Damn! Would you look at that?" Lance said, whistling low between his teeth as he pointed to the screen. "Damn, woman, have some mercy on a boy." Bryce zoomed the camera in for a better look. Janine stood in the sunshine, peeling off her Daisy Dukes, casually tossing them to the grass. "Oh yeah, take it off baby." He felt the pulsing in his groin as he watched Janine bend over, her bikini top dipping low to show quite a bit of her hilly cleavage. He blew out a breath as she sank onto the beach towel and stretched out on her back. Her chest rose and fell with the effort of a deep sigh. "Now that, my brother, is feminine perfection." Bryce about lost it in his leathers, as Janine, on an exaggerated afterthought, sat up, squirted some suntan oil in her palms and smoothed it over her shapely calves. He shifted in his chair to accommodate the growing problem, springing to life beneath his button fly. "Maybe, I should go out and offer to do her back," he said, longingly. "Or just offer to do her," Lance belted out on a low groan. He was an ass man. And after applying a light coating of oil to her legs and thighs, she rolled over on her belly. And damn, wasn't the rearview better than the full headlights view? That pink bikini hugged her cheeks like a second skin. Slightly riding up along the full curve of her butt and making him hard as hell. "What are you knuckleheads doing?" John Mark asked, stankeying the monitor. The brothers drooled like a couple of fools. What? Did Toby wire the panels wrong again? The last time he did that, the compound had free pay-per view for a week. His jaws snapped shut with a loud click when he saw what had the brothers panting like a couple of perverts at a peep show. Patrick was one of his closest friends and he wasn't about to stand idly by and let these two degenerates ogle Janine. "Just checking out the monitors," Bryce mumbled. The presence of the brothers' Second had his little problem wilted down to size in like, three seconds flat. The warrior crossed his arms over his broad, muscled chest. Said nothing. Did nothing more than furrow his brows in disapproval at the monitor and apparently, that was enough to send Bryce's cock into sleep mode. "Yeah," Lance said, clearing his throat, "just checking out the scenery." Ok, so John Mark was a bit intimidating. All six-foot some odd inches and two-hundred plus pounds of him was enough to have Lance staring at the floor instead of at the view of Janine's perfect ass. Everyone knew the rules. Nobody scammed on another brother's woman. Females were treated with the up most respect. "Why don't you pansies go out and make another round through the woods before you head back to the city." John Mark grinned slyly at pair as they, grateful for the honor of being first out the door, jumped from their seats. "If I were you, I wouldn't let Patrick catch you sneaking any looks at Janine. I'd hate to see your pretty faces get pulverized." He panned out the camera, still keeping it focused on her, but discretely so. He chuckled as the door to the tech room slammed shut and the sounds of footfalls grew distant. John Mark took over manning the monitor station. He kicked his feet up in a chair and scraped his hand through his long dark hair, massaging his scalp with his fingers. So far their search for the rogue had turned up zilch. The wedding present the bastard had left for Alex and Chance was nothing more than a wad of hundreds, a sizable wad. But, it wasn't tainted or corrupted in any way. The money was legit. And it would be put to good use. The homeless shelter was getting a very large donation. Being second in command had it's share of problems and now, he had another worry added to his list. Patrick was losing Janine. The fool didn't realize it yet. But, it was slowly happening. Keeping her safe was at the top of John Mark's list. Males didn't handle rejection well. The pair was bonded. And if they split and went their separate ways, the fallout could extend far beyond the two of them. It would affect the whole brotherhood. This wasn't going to be any run of the mill messy human breakup. When, and John Mark was certain there would be a when, they ended their relationship, it was going to be a dangerous time for the both of them. Janine was the only thing that kept Patrick remotely sane. She grounded him. Her gentle compassion reached him when no of the other brothers could have. And Patrick kept Janine safe. He protected her. Even though she didn't think he did. He cared. And in that lay the danger. Robbie had agreed to open the ice cream shop for the season, thinking the work might be therapeutic for Janine. Keeping her busy, out of trouble, and safe within the watchful eye of the brothers. Although she was human, Janine was a valued and cherished member of the Sons. His other main problem was Anna. She wouldn't be so easily sidetracked and getting her into the safe confines of the compound was proving to be problematic. Anna was strong and fiercely independent. She wouldn't be easily convinced and there was no maneuvering her into compliance. He hoped Toby would be able to convince her to move in soon. Then the trackers could be shifted into more critical parts of the city, relieved from having to spread themselves out so thinly with the task watching over her and keeping her safe. She was human and way too vulnerable. And like most females, stubborn as hell. As long as the rogues were out there no human was safe. And the task of protecting them grew more and more difficult. The town kept their secrets safe. But, the city was full of unknowns and variables. There simply weren't enough brothers in this area to keep the rogues in check. Threat and reputation were the biggest card the Sons had to play and the brothers relied on it, heavily. The Great Father relied on it. He could call in reinforcements. But, everywhere the rogue threat was growing faster than it ever had before. John Mark scrubbed a hand through his hair and honed his thoughts down to his little slice of heaven. Yeah, focus on the here and now, the people he loved and cared about the most. If he could keep them alive, whatever he and the brothers had to endure was worth the price. Call it job security. But, as long as there were rogues out there, and there always would be, no human was ever truly safe. Chapter 3 "You could just stay here with me." Toby patted the space on the bed next to him. The day sped by, too quickly, and Anna was busily packing her overnight bag. She was supposed to ride back to the city with the trackers. And he'd kept her happily diverted way past the agreed upon time for her to leave. So what. His brothers could wait till she was damned good and ready to go. He cast his best puppy dog look on his face, hoping it would convince her to forget about her job, the city, the bag, and climb back into bed with him. Anna shook her head at Toby's forlorn, puppy dog, face. No amount of begging, sad eyes, or the engagement ring on her finger would get her to change her mind. She had obligations to meet. The article had earned her some credibility and gotten her out of hot water with her boss. But, missing work would dunk her back under its boiling surface in a hurry. Nobody was expendable. And as much as she'd like to stay behind, crawl into that big bed with Toby, and forget the rest. She had bills to pay. And she needed the job. "I can't." She bent over and kissed his head, ruffling his dark hair with her fingertips. "I want to. But, I can't." "Will you move in with me?" he asked, trying a different tactic. Directness. Something she could appreciate. "We're going to get married anyway. We could live together till you set the date. You know, practice makes perfect." He snatched her up by the waist in a move too fast for her to duck and dragged her down to the bed. Anna lifted her chin defiantly. Call her old-fashioned about it. But, she was not into the whole co-habitation thing. "When we're married, I'll move in." She wasn't going to be sidetracked by his persuasive lips, which was seductively trailing down the long graceful arch of her neck. "Ok, I'll grab Dane and meet you on the bluffs in an hour," he whispered. If she was willing, they could skip the formalities of a fancy wedding, and tie the knot, JOP style. Hell, he'd cart her to Vegas and tie the knot, if a piece of paper was what she required to set up digs in his suite. Anna snorted and pushed at Toby's chest. Her man put up a very convincing argument. Who needed a long engagement and the stress of a wedding? She could just stay put. "And deprive Janine of the honor of throwing one of her infamous bachelorette parties?" She arched her back as Toby continued his way down to the v of her blouse. Slowly with deft fingers, he slid the buttons free and teased her sensitive nipples through the lacy fabric of her bra. "If you keep that up," she moaned, forgetting everything but the sensation of his breath on her skin. "I'll never get back home." Toby grinned, uh huh, that was the plan. "That's the idea." He slid a hand under her back and unfastened the bra, granting him better access to her soft, tender flesh that lay beneath. She didn't understand how fragile she truly was. The only way he could ensure her safety was to keep her here, by his side. He admired her courage, going out there alone into a world where anything could happen. And he didn't want to squash her independence. But, he wanted her here. Lord knew his place could use a woman's touch. He had a bit of a reputation, all of it by the way of masculine chest pounding and innuendos. None of it was the truth. Ok, so he was a letch and he liked pretty pictures. But, all of that had stopped when he realized his Internet harem of beautiful faces and glorious bodies paled in comparison to Anna. And she was the one, the only one, he wanted. The red velvet bedspread looked garish and tacky. The black satin throw pillows served no purpose and screamed man slut. And he didn't even want to talk about the gold and black patterned wallpaper. Anna gripped Toby's chin, forcing his face up to meet hers. "Tobias, we need to talk first. There are a few details to discuss." She shivered in delight as he worked her core, the seam of her jeans crating the most wonderful friction, working open her thighs with his knee. "That's what I'm trying to do, pay attention to all the details." He slid his chin free and claimed her mouth, searching out the dark crevice with his tongue, darting in, swirling it around, exploring. He could feel her response building. The air was laden with the scent of her arousal. With each stroke, the aroma became stronger, and her body, more pliant beneath his fingertips. "Ni moni tepe'kikiisthwa, My Silver Moon," he moaned. "Let me love you." God, how could she say no when he phrased the question like that? Surely, Lance and Bryce wouldn't mind waiting around just a little while longer. He asked for so little, such a simple thing, really, one last, quick, goodbye romp. Who was she to say 'no' to his request? She needed it too. Maybe, she could store up the orgasms he delivered with such fierce attention to detail and use them, hold the closeness they created close to her heart and use them to see her through the long lonely days while they were apart. "Yes." She wanted him. She loved him. A part of her was tempted to agree to rush off to the bluffs and marry him. Throw caution to the wind and get rid of her old life, which didn't really suit her anymore. Grab onto Toby and everything he had to offer. But, she needed to square things away at home and there was one big detail they had yet to discuss. After the wedding, she wanted to undergo the transformation and ensure they got their happily ever after. Her body yielded and her mind closed all inbound routes to her psyche. Incapable of forming a solid thought as Toby slid her jeans and underwear off in one swift movement, she sighed in contentment. He nestled between her thighs, nuzzling her sweetness, suckling and lapping at her flesh with his tongue. She cried out in sheer pleasure when he entered her. Gently he coaxed her along with him, rocking and bucking, thrusting his hips hard against her pelvis until she shuddered, lost to the sheer ecstasy of their bodies joined as one. ***** Anna stood with her butt firmly planted against the SUV's rear fender, resting her head on Toby's chest. Listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat through the cotton of his t-shirt. They'd spent the afternoon making love and completely lost track of time. Their wonderful afternoon ended when Lance sent Toby an impatient telepathic message. It was time to go and he and Bryce weren't going to wait on her much longer. "Do you think Dane will give you a hall pass this week?" Toby grinned, nuzzling his cheek against Anna's soft hair. Her skin was coated with the musk of sex and feminine sweat. She smelled of orgasms and satin sheets. Proud of his scent on her, embedded into her flesh, warning the brothers off of her and marking her as his, he smiled. "I don't know. I'll try. You're coming back for the weekend aren't you?" Anna nodded and lifted her face up to meet Toby's eyes. He'd be perfectly happy if she stayed behind. Nothing would bring him more pleasure than to have her toss her career out the window, unpack her bag, and set up shop in his room. Soon enough, she was going to do just that. Right after, she made the necessary arrangements, put her house on the market, and finished the work piled up on her desk. Soon. "It's the big Spring Planting Festival and I wouldn't miss it for the world." She smiled as he planted a light kiss on her lips and all but shoved her into the SUV to put some distance between them. Bryce rested his foot on the running board. Watching Anna and Toby play kissy face made him slightly nauseous. He cleared his throat, finally getting their attention. "Either get a room or get in." Anna glanced over her shoulder and shot Bryce a disdainful glare. She didn't know what had gotten into him lately. He was usually so nice, so gentle around her. Treating her as if she were a true friend. This weekend, ever since Alex's engagement party, he'd been avoiding her, stomping round like something had crawled up his ass and died. And she had no idea why. "I gotta go." Toby frowned, and glared at his brother. Pushy bastard. Really? Anna wasn't going to change her mind. At least, not on this visit. But, the longer she stayed, the more likely she was to stay. He understood how vehemently she valued her job and her reputation. She would never just walk away. No matter how much he wanted her to. "You don't have to go." "Yeah, I do." Anna climbed into the backseat and buckled up. She rolled down her window and leaned far out, snatching one last, quick kiss as Lance slid the SUV into drive. Resisting the urge to cry, she shrank back into the seat and rolled up the window. The glossy black tint all but obstructed her view of the woods as Lance navigated the SUV down the long, narrow, winding path to the main road. Silently, she rolled the pad of her thumb over the moonstone and counted the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until next weekend. It seemed like an eternity to wait. Seven days, that was all. Just seven long, boring, lonely days. Dawn's Never Ending Glow She knew she was never truly alone. She had her phone. And Chris, her best friend, and she spoke everyday. She could call Toby anytime she wanted. And the trackers had her back. One of them was always out there, out of sight, guarding her, protecting her while she lived her life. But, none of it, the phone calls, the e-mails, and texts, even knowing the trackers were with her, was the same as being there at the compound in Toby's arms. Once in a while, Bryce stopped by, just to let her know he was there. Lance held a silent vigil in her backyard, on her rooftop, or wherever it was he lurked when it was his turn to baby-sit her. Anna rested her head on the window and felt every mile, the distance increasing inch by inch, carrying her away from Toby. She could do this. Be strong and get through the week, and the weeks that followed. Do this. End one life, the right way, and begin another, as his wife, just as soon as it was humanly possible. Chapter 4 Janine stretched out and yawned. The afternoon sun was deliciously warm on her skin. What could be better than vegging out in a bikini, on a beach towel, listening to some good tunes, and reading the latest issue of GQ? She needed to enjoy what little free time she had left. She was about to be a career woman again and most of her summer would be spent inside, dishing out ice cream to the locals. Working, actually earning her keep, would be a nice change of pace. And getting a weekly paycheck, most of which she intended to spend on her favorite person, herself, would do wonders to rebuild her confidence, which had begun to swirl down the toilet. She'd taken care of ordering most of the things Robbie thought they'd need to open. Tomorrow, she planned to spend the day cleaning and making sure the place was spic and span for opening day. They were scheduled to serve their first customers this coming weekend. Strategically planning opening day to coincide with the first day of The Spring Planting Festival. She already had her uniform, folded neatly on her dresser. Ok, so it wasn't the trim, designer business suits, silk stockings, and spiked heels she was used to wearing to work -- back when she had a job. But, what did it matter? MBAs weren't really in demand out in the sticks. And business management was business management. She was going to be a "What's the Scoop?" girl. Actually, Robbie had given her the tile of Assistant Manager. All major decisions would be left up to Robbie. But, she was responsible for the day-to-day operation of the shop. The HBIC- head bitch in charge, as it were. It was sad to think about the reasons behind why Robbie was hesitant to open this season. Her parents were gone, killed last spring in a car accident. This would be the first opening day without them. She really didn't know the kindly middle-aged couple. But still, the thought of it, made her sad. She always took the time to make a special trip out to the country from the city, at least once in the summer, to nab onto one of their delightful ice cream creations. Robert and Danielle were always so friendly and welcoming, treating her and everyone else who wandered up to the window, like family. Some traditions just were. 'What's the scoop' was one of those traditions. Summer wouldn't be summer without ice cream dripping in sweet rivulets down your fingers, the buzz of fat bees, lazily swarming around trashcans, the sharp, electric zap of the bug zapper, children laughing, fireflies lighting up the night sky with their neon green glow, the boom of fireworks, languid days melting in the summer heat and relentless humidity, lounging on the beach, and searching for a cool spot in the sand with your toes. That was what summer was supposed to be. Long, hot sunny days, the air filled with the sweet, sugary smell of cotton candy, coconut scented suntan lotion, and the pungent smell of summertime sweat. Janine scowled as a shadow fell across her body, blocking her sun. At first, she felt a jolt of fear, what if Roark found her? But, shielding her eyes and glancing up, she saw Patrick looming over her. She couldn't read his expression with the dark lenses covering his eyes. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, leaving her to guess at what was on his mind. "Get out of my sun," she barked, shooing him away with a wave of her hand. "What are you doing?" Patrick growled, glaring down at Janine. She was barely covered. The scrap of hot-pink bikini left little to the imagination. She was slathered down with some kind of oil that reeked of coconut and was nauseatingly sweet. She was stretched out, lying on her back, baking herself in the harsh damaging rays of the sun. What was she trying to do? Kill herself? "Getting some sun." Janine pulled her earbuds out and scowled up at Patrick. Who did he think he was? Her father? "Now go on." She popped her earbuds back in and cranked up the music. Turning onto her belly, she ignored him, and began flipping through the pages of her magazine. Patrick kept his feet planted. "Looks like you're getting skin cancer to me." He knelt down beside her and ran his hand along her back, sucking in a breath at the heat in her skin. She was on fire. Her fragile skin no match for the damaging rays. "Come on inside, you're burned." Eager to hurry her along, he grabbed her t-shirt and shorts in his hand and rocked back on his heels. Janine flipped her fashion magazine closed and craned her neck up at him. "I'll be along in an hour or so." She wasn't about to let him boss her around. Defiantly, she untied her bikini strings and stretched out on her belly, resting her chin on her folded hands. Tan lines were so unattractive and she had high hopes of getting to try that little backless number she'd had stashed in the back of her closet, sometime this summer. Patrick hissed and tied her bikini shut, securing the strings in a series of tight knots that would have done a boy scout proud. One wrong move and the compound was going to get a hell of a show. "Janine there are cameras everywhere. You don't want someone to see you." "Like I care," she said, nonchalantly. She had breasts. She was a woman after all. He was pushing her buttons and testing her patience. She was already mad at him and he simply didn't know when to quit. If she wanted to flash the brothers, what business was it of his anyway? Patrick was tired and in desperate need of a shower and some rest. "I do," he replied between clenched teeth. God, this woman was stubborn. Who knew what in the hell went on beneath those highlights of hers? Sometimes, he wondered. Did she truly have no sense of self-preservation? "Do you really?" She opened the magazine to a random page and pretended read the print. She was giving him her best cold shoulder routine. Maybe, he'd take the hint. "Janine," Patrick hissed in a warning. "You're not safe out here." He yanked the tiny pods out of her ears and jerked her up by her arm onto her feet. For once, just one damned time, couldn't she do something that he told her to? Her life was at risk. The brothers were still no closer to figuring out how the Rogue Master had slipped past them. The bastard could be anywhere. Janine squeaked and jerked out of Patrick's grip. "Stop it." She plopped down on her beach towel and glared up at him. She had a mind to knee him right in the nuts. Nobody manhandled her. She was a person, a human being, and she had no intentions of letting him get away with treating her otherwise. "I happen to know it's not safe. I was on the bluffs yesterday ALONE." She pointed a finger at Patrick's chest. "I made a decision not to let fear dominate my life. I wanted to get out and enjoy some sun, so I did." With a huff, she stood, gathering her things and stuffing them into the canvas bag. The whole day was ruined, thanks to his 'he man' attitude. Not bothering to dress in her shorts and t-shirt, she wrapped the towel tightly around her body and crammed her feet into her flip-flops. She was so mad she was shaking and on the verge of tears, which only pissed her off more. "Oh, by the way, from here on out, I'll be spending the night in my own room." "Why?" Patrick huffed. He sensed Janine's anger wafting off of her in waves. Its peppery scent burned his nose. What did he do? Couldn't she see the drastic steps he took to make sure she was safe? He hadn't wanted to leave her alone at the reception last night. He had a job to do. Primarily, much to her intentions otherwise, keeping her alive. "I need a vacation." She turned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Her flesh stung under the weight. Damn it, Patrick was right. She was going to have a bad sunburn. She was too pissed to be reasonable right now. Far too angry with him to think through her words before they tumbled out of her mouth in a hurtful waterfall of repressed emotions. "A vacation?" "Yeah." She defiantly lifted her chin. "From you." She stomped along the trail with him at her heels. She was glad for her sunglasses, shielding her tears from his view. "Just leave me alone for a while. I need time to think." "Janine." Patrick stood in the middle of the trail, stunned. "You can't leave me. We're bonded." Janine didn't bother to turn around. She kept walking as fast as her dime store flip-flops would carry her. Her vision blurred by tears. Tears she wanted to keep hidden from him. She wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his chest and feel the security of his arms around her shoulders. To be cared for and loved, the way she deserved and he ought to do. This emotional distance thing between them was driving her crazy. But, she couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't handle hanging on to hopes and waiting, when she wasn't even sure what she was waiting for. "Keep pushing me and you'll find out that I can." John Mark stepped out of the tree line, positioning himself between Janine as she retreated and Patrick, who was still standing on the trail with a dumbfounded expression on his face, fishlipping it like a carp on the beach. He hadn't heard the whole conversation, but he'd heard enough to know that his brother was in deep shit. Whenever a woman demanded time to think. It was a bad thing. A sure sign, there was trouble brewing in paradise. He also knew that Patrick wouldn't give up. He'd keep chasing after her. Keep pushing her buttons. And further driving the wedge between them. If Janine didn't want Patrick bothering her, as much as he really, really didn't want to, John Mark knew it was his job to step in between them and get his brother back in line. He was pledged to keeping her safe and a jilted lover, especially Patrick, wasn't safe. He rested a firm hand on his brother's shoulder and guided him away from the trail. "Come on man, just give her some space." Patrick twisted out of John Mark's grip, his shoulders drooping as he let his brother guide him away from Janine. He only had one question for her to answer. The words searing the tip of his tongue in a painful, agonizing burn. Didn't she love him anymore? What did he do? Chapter 5 Nightfall was dropped over the city like a curtain, surrounding the buildings and all the people in it with the electric, orange din of artificial daylight. The SUV exited the interstate, on its way to her house. Anna kept quiet on the way back, lost in thought. She spun the engagement ring on her finger. There were so many unanswered questions. She closed her eyes, sinking wearily back into the seat, wishing Toby were here beside her. There was only one way that she could really fit into his world and she was ready to take the next step. Her body slid forward, as the vehicle slowed, breaking to a stop at the curb outside of her house. "Thanks guys," she said hopping out before one of the brothers in a stupid act of chivalry opened the door and insisted on carrying her bag and quite possibly her, to the front door. "Are you on patrol tonight, Bryce?" Bryce smiled and nodded. He could sense she had questions rolling about in her mind. Her engagement ring sparkled in the dim glow from the streetlights above. "Yeah. I'm guarding you." "Stop by later. Once you get settled in and make your rounds." "Will do." He had a feeling that Anna was going to have another long, sleepless night. And he'd be there for her. Guarding her. **** Toby was trying to keep busy and control his thoughts. Anna was safe, guarded by the trackers and there was no need for his worry. It wouldn't accomplish anything but driving him ape shit crazy. His hands flew along the keyboard, typing in commands. If Roark was hacking into the system and gathering information, he was determined to find out how he did it. His security systems were airtight. At least, he thought they were. Tomorrow morning the new, tighter security software he'd ordered would be arriving and the hardware with it. Once the system was installed, nobody was getting past it, at least not for a while. Technology was constantly changing and evolving. And it was difficult to stay one step ahead. Reluctantly, he had to agree with Dane. There was no way to ensure that a video feed was secure. But, he would love to see Anna's lithe form stripping for him again over the net. Cybersex wasn't the real thing. But, in a pinch, given that he was grounded by his duties, it would be better than jerking off in the shower alone with nothing but his memory and his palm to get him off. It didn't matter though. Soon enough she'd be stripping for him live, every night. He was anxious for her to set a date. Tomorrow would be perfect. The sooner the better, as far as he was concerned. He'd give her a few weeks and if she hadn't come up with a date, he'd offer a suggestion or two. He wasn't about to give her time to back out and wiggle off the hook. ******* Anna wandered through the house, straightening this and dusting that. Her laundry was done and everything was tidy. But, she took no comfort in the diversion of her labors. The house was strangely quiet and lonesome after staying with the Sons at the compound. There something was always going on. Somebody around. She plopped on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table, a bad habit she'd picked up from Toby. Surfing through the channels, she wondered why she paid for cable TV. There was never anything on and certainly nothing to occupy her mind. ****** Roark took his time. Waltzing up the dark sidewalks of the quiet neighborhood like he owned them. And soon enough, he would. At least the underground the humans knew dick about. Once he had discovered the woman's name the rest was quite easy. A few minutes on the Internet and he had her address, phone number, and date of birth. Tonight, he'd pay her a visit and introduce himself. Not that she'd remember it. Hissing he ducked into the shadows. A vampire was on her front porch, knocking on her door like a damned Avon lady. Sniffing the air, he determined that it was one of the Sons. A guard? Dedicated to a human female? They certainly were protective of their own weren't they? She must be a woman of some importance to them. And that pleased him immensely. He had been ducking into shadows and keeping out of the Sons line of sight for almost two centuries. He didn't have a grudge against the brothers, per se. But, their lifestyle disgusted him. They were vampires, the same as him. But, they pranced about in the woods, drinking the blood of animals, worshiping an imaginary goddess and bowing to one, much younger than he. Utterly despicable. What the lofty Sons considered a weakness. He considered his strength. Human blood was a necessity. The brothers barely took enough to survive. He reveled in it. But the do-gooders did serve a purpose. Ridding the world of the depravity of bloodthirsty and out of control rogues. The leader of the Sons was weak and inept. Roark offered the man friendship with one hand while holding a dagger in the other. He had no interest in befriending the Sons. No, he meant to conquer them. His interest lay in their Great Father. The man he'd delivered into this life almost two hundred years ago. He would have to wait to claim the woman. There was no use in alerting the brotherhood to his presence. He'd first seen her stripping on a video feed he'd hacked into. She belonged to one of them. That fact in itself was enough to peak his curiosity. Roark found her fascinating, merely a casual diversion, and nothing more. But, he'd have fun playing with her. Once he grew bored, he'd send her back leaving nothing of her but an empty shell. ******* Bryce smiled as Anna answered the door. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. He knew for a fact that she really slept in less, much less. He'd been guarding her carefully for months and couldn't help but notice the feminine gauzy gowns she wore to bed. "Hi." "Come on in." Anna stepped aside and held the door open for Bryce. "Everything quiet out there?" she asked, taking a look into the darkness beyond the glow of her porch light before she closed the door. She motioned to the couch. "Please. Sit down." Bryce shrugged and had a seat. He waited for her to start the conversation. He saw her nervousness, her hands toying with the tasseled edge of a throw pillow. "What's up?" "I need to know some things." She leaned in close and extended her left hand. "I wanted to ask Toby. But, I wasn't sure of where to begin." Bryce sucked in a breath and acted surprised when he saw the ring. "That's nice." He whistled low taking her hand in his admiring Toby's taste in both rings and women. "When's the big day? Are you going to ask me to strip at your bachelorette party?" He had already heard the news. The psychic connection he shared with his brothers left little room for secrets. That fact and the respect he had for Toby were the only things that kept him seated on his end of the couch. Otherwise, he'd pursue Anna for himself. Anna pulled her hand away and swatted at him. "No." she smiled at Bryce playfully, "I think your last act would be hard to top." "Why, thank you. It's the chaps. Women love to ride a cowboy," he boasted shamelessly. "I'm a stallion. What can I say?" "Keep on and you'll be a gelding," Anna teased. "We haven't set a date yet." She bit her bottom lip in doubt. Unsure about what Bryce would have to say. "I'm going to ask Toby to make me like him." "You'd do that for him?" Bryce gasped. "I'd do it for us." "Wow, you must really love the guy." Bryce couldn't imagine two people more in love than Chance and Alex. But, apparently Anna's feelings for Toby had them beat. "I do. But, I need to know a few things." "Like what?" "Does it hurt?" Anna swallowed hard, waiting for Bryce to answer her question. "You should really talk to Toby." Bryce didn't want to scare her by telling the truth. Once the blood took hold the pain was excruciating, agonizing. Sort of what he guessed it felt like to be born the first time, only you remembered each and every second of your birth. Anna rested a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me, please." Her eyes connected with Bryce's silently pleading for answers and the truth. She wanted to know. Had to know what to expect. "It is the worst agony you can ever imagine. The pain rips through your body as the blood takes hold. You're freezing. The cold biting its way up your legs and into your chest until it reaches your heart. When you finally come around enough to form a solid thought. Every sight is blinding. Every sound is deafening. Every smell is nauseating. The gentlest breeze sends waves of utter torment along your skin. And that's not the best part. There's blood Anna, you'll want it. You'll need it. You'll want to kill to get it. And to a certain degree, that hunger never goes away, ever. "Anna I don't want to scare you. The suffering only lasts a little while. Once you adjust, it's a wonderful thing to experience. This life never ceases to hold some level of fascination." He held her hand and ran a finger down her cheek. " I'd like to say for the sake of love, it's worth it. And maybe, it is. To have a chance at forever, isn't that what everyone dreams of?" Gently, Bryce reached out and took her hand. "Think carefully on this, Anna. You've got plenty of time to decide." Dawn's Never Ending Glow Anna closed her eyes and let the warmth of Bryce's grip on her hand, hold her to the ground. He was honest, brutally so. And for that, she thanked him. Chris would have tried to spare her and skate over the details. And Toby, he would have focused on the future they were going to have afterward instead of the actual horrors of the transformation. "Thanks for being honest with me. I just needed to know." She was still going to go through with it. No matter what the sacrifice. Their love was worth it. She wanted to spend as many days, years, maybe centuries, loving Toby as she could. And no, she didn't need time to make her decision. Anna curled up on the couch. A little on edge from Bryce's honest account of the transformation, she doubted she'd fall into a peaceful sleep anytime soon. "Will you stay with me a while longer?" Bryce smiled and tugged the throw from off the back of the couch, tucking it around her legs "Sure." "I miss Toby," Anna sighed as Bryce tossed the throw over her legs. "Go to him. Stop fighting your love and go to him. Before long, you won't have to worry about your human life anymore. Turn in your notice, pack your things, and marry the poor bastard." He slid her stocking feet onto his lap and massaged her toes, hoping to get her relaxed enough to drift off. Lucky son of a bitch, he thought, as he watched her eyes fall shut. "Thanks. You're such a good friend." Anna rested her head on the soft throw pillow. Bryce was right. She wasn't happy when she was away from Toby. Their separation, no matter how brief, made her absolutely miserable. "I'll talk to my boss tomorrow." "Good girl," Bryce said softly. He edged into her mind and planted a suggestion. "Sleep Anna." He hummed low under his breath, continuing to massage her feet as she succumbed to his will, snoring softly. He sat on the couch for a long time, not that she was aware of it, watching her sleep. Wondering when, if ever, he'd find someone like her for himself. Chapter 6 Dane stared at his brothers seated around the table before him. He wanted some answers. Patrick, his best tracker, had turned up nothing. No trail. No scent. It was as if the rogue appeared out of thin and then disappeared the same way. John Mark, his second in command, had the same deer in headlights look as the rest of the brother. The warriors were on alert. But, without any leads to how Roark had gotten past their security measures. They were accomplishing nothing and wasting valuable time, patrolling through the woods. How was he supposed to lead if he didn't know what to tell his brothers to be on alert for? Alex, his prophetess and visionary, shook her head, staring at him across the table blankly. Toby, the computer and electronics genius, had ran sweeps of all the systems and increased computer security. He also had nothing more to offer. Somehow Roark had breeched their defenses. Somehow Roark had known about the wedding. And Dane wanted to know how the son of a bitch did it. Frustrated, he scrubbed his hand through the short black spikes of his hair. "Will, increase patrols through the woods." He returned Will's nod. "Toby, keep on that computer system. I want assurance that our uplinks are secure." He didn't trust all the new technologies to begin with and his distrust was proving to be founded. "John Mark, make sure the warriors remain on alert." He sank back into his seat meeting their eyes. "The rest of you stay sharp. I want to know if anyone sees or thinks they see anything." He and Roark crossed paths for the first time a couple of weeks ago when Sam and Marcus were captured during an intel mission. Dane had sent them undercover to investigate a rogue nest a little too close to their territories. Little did they know that Neil, an abandoned rogue the brothers had taken under their wing, was working for The Rogue Master. Not until Neil made his assassination attempt on his life. Sam and Marcus had been returned unharmed. Roark claimed no wrongdoing and no responsibility for the attempt on Dane's life. In fact, he talked a good game. Never really saying anything of great importance. Nothing that would implicate him in any way. Roark was offering his hand in friendship, but Dane wasn't buying it. He didn't trust Roark. After Alex's vision, he understood part of the reason why. Her vision was graphic, leaving her rattled and shaken up, petrified. She saw Roark murder The Great Father, when he was still human. Roark was the Unknown Soldier that had fired the fatal shot. Dane watched as Alex and Chance left the meeting room, hand in hand. Sometimes, he didn't understand the things that Kokumthena showed Alex in her visions or why. She had a vision of a truce between the rogues and The Sons. If he didn't trust the Rogue Master, how was such a thing as a truce possible? Chris smoothed her hand along her husband's back. His muscles were tensed and bunched into tight balls of stress and worry. She wished there was more that she could do. But she was a secretary of sorts, not a warrior, a tracker, nor a visionary. She decorated their home. Turned the dark tunnels and cave like rooms into warm, cozy spaces. Her husband was worried it was going to fail. "Dane, tomorrow I'll go to the hunting goods stores in the area and see if anyone matching Roark's description was there buying hunting scents. Maybe Alexander was right." Dane arched his back into her magical fingers. She massaged the knots of stress out of his spine and it felt wonderful. She was his anchor, keeping him calm and solid in the stormy sea that was his life. "Thanks babe." He didn't think her search would turn up anything. The answer couldn't be that simple. But, he understood her need to do something to help out. "Take Robbie with you, just in case." "Ok," Chris replied. Robbie was a warrior like her husband. Dane was being protective, making sure that she was safe. She didn't think there'd be any trouble. But, if it made Dane happy and kept him from worrying, she'd do it. She smiled at him as he pulled her into his lap and ran his hands through her waves of honey brown hair. ****** Janine was spending another miserable night locked in her room. She twisted and turned, trying to apply the soothing cool aloe gel to the throbbing sunburn on her back. The bastard was right. Her back was hot and angry red, with splotchy patches of fluid filled blisters. She hadn't gotten the golden brown skin she'd hoped for. But, one nasty and painful sunburn that in a few days was going to be even more miserable when it started to peel and itch. She just wanted a little color. But, tomato red wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Janine crawled into the bed and curled up in a ball, sobbing, not from the burn but from her broken heart. Patrick stood in the hall on the other side of Janine's door. He rested his hand on the cold panel of dark wood, debating on if he should knock or not. He could hear her soulful sobbing from inside. Got him every time. "Damn." He regretted being so pushy and hard on her. She was right. Who did he think he was? He didn't own her. He felt her suffering through the psychic link they shared. She was his donor and there were no secrets between them. She was in physical pain. But, he knew damned good and well that wasn't why she was crying. He could sense her anger, hurt feelings, and confusion. She needed him. Gently, he knocked, unable to endure another second of her tears. "Go away," Janine's answered weakly. She turned away from the door as it opened and Patrick stepped through. "I said go away." She was scantily dressed in a loose tank and matching shorts and she didn't want him to see her lack of clothing or the effect being so close to him had on her. Patrick was the most beautiful male she'd ever seen. Topping out at about five-nine or ten, he wasn't so tall that he towered over her. His lithe, lean frame was compact, maybe a little wiry under a firm layer of well-shaped muscle. Not too big that he dwarfed her or made her feel that at her five foot-two inch, one hundred ten pounds that she was a tiny, delicate, creature. Deceptively youthful, he couldn't walk into a bar without being carded. Unless, someone bothered to look past his sandy-brown bangs that were always in his face and into his green eyes, where his true age was painfully apparent. They were perfect for each other in so many ways. And in others, apparently, not so much. If one went by physical appearances, Janine still looked young enough to be considered his girlfriend without raising too many eyebrows. In five or ten years, when she aged and he did not, other women would be envious. Consider her a cougar. And then in another ten years, there'd be no way she could pass as anything other than his mother, and then in another decade or two, as his grandmother. There was only one ultimate answer to their problem. And she was on board with it. She really was. But, if she were willing to lay down her life as the ultimate show of her commitment to him, he could at least tell her he loved her, slide a ring on her finger, and marry her. Not after. Before. Patrick eased to the bed, approaching her slowly. "Janine, I'm sorry we had a fight." He gently sat on the side of the bed, careful not to shake her. Frowning at the burn and the blisters, he didn't understand why she did it. What in the hell possessed her to bake herself like a potato in an oven for hours in the sun? In his day, ok, so it was a long, damn time ago, women prided themselves on their pale skin. Tanned skin was a sign of poverty and hard work in the fields. He took care of her. He provided for her. And considering his outdated system of values, she'd insulted him. Flaunted her body in that damned bikini. Insisted on getting a tan instead of staying inside where she belonged. He just didn't get it. She was a modern girl. Young enough to be his great, great, great, and possibly great granddaughter, if he'd had children. And, sometimes the two of them didn't connect. Their age difference might as well be as wide and deep as the ocean separating two continents. Most of the time, they worked it out. He considered himself a progressive male and the key to his survival was in keeping up with the times. That didn't mean that sometimes, he didn't agree or have the least clue about what went on in her head. "Do you want me to call Dr. Sterling or the Shaman?" He knew better than to offer his wrist to heal her. For some reason, even though his blood would do what no human pills or one of the Shaman's potions could not, he knew she'd turn him down flat. Janine snorted and regretted the pain from shrugging her shoulders. Her skin felt tight and hot and the slightest movement hurt. "For what? A sunburn? I'll be fine in a day or so. Patrick, that's just silly." She rolled over on her belly where the pain was at least tolerable and sighed in relief from the coolness of the sheets on her heated skin. Of course it is, Patrick thought. He'd studied human first aid. Her burns were second degree, not severe, but damned painful. Could be life threatening, if infection set in though. He reached over and grabbed the bottle of aloe gel on her nightstand. Squirting a generous dollop of the green goo in his palm, he gently peeled back the straps of her top and smoothed the lotion over her fragile skin. "Can we kiss and make up?" he asked softly. "No." Janine wasn't ready to consider forgiving him, just yet. When she asked him to give her some space and some time to think things through, she meant it. If she backed down now, he'd never take her seriously. She held back the sigh of relief from the cool gel and the soft stroke of his gentle fingertips as he spread the lotion over her shoulders. Why was it the only time he bothered to be this attentive with her was when she was in pain? The thought pissed her off, depressed her, and caused a fresh bout of tears to fall down her cheeks. "Shhh, you're crying," he whispered softly. He scooted closer and gently lifted her up into his lap. Mindful of the sunburn, he held her as tightly as the areas of undamaged skin would allow. He could have handled anything, her rejection, a thorough ass chewing, anything but her tears. "Shhh, baby please. Tell me what's wrong." Janine buried her face into the soft cotton of his shirt. His presence was comforting and soothing. His woodsy, musky scent invaded her awareness, calming her frayed nerves. God, she didn't know what was worse, Patrick the pushy, unreasonable, cocky, arrogant, male or Patrick the sensitive, gentle, caring, bordering on doting, boyfriend she'd always wanted. "I shouldn't be doing this," she said in between the sobs. "Tell me how to make it better. Tell me what you need. How to make you happy again." She was killing him. A bullet in the brain would have been less painful than holding her in his arms, feeling the soft fall of her tears moisten his shirt, and knowing somehow, he was the cause. He was on the verge of losing the only woman he'd ever cared for. He didn't tell her that nearly often enough. But, she was the only woman he'd ever truly loved. "You should already know," she answered. Carefully peeling her body out of his embrace, she leaned back on the mound of pillows stacked against the headboard of her bed. She couldn't meet his eyes. Couldn't stand the hurt and confusion in their green depths. How could a man be so clueless? She couldn't do this with him. Couldn't seek comfort in his arms, open her heart to him, and then retreat and shut him out. They couldn't do this on and off thing. She loved him and it was more painful than any sunburn. Gently, Patrick traced his thumbs along Janine's cheeks, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry, but I don't." He held her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss. One kiss would fix everything. Reaffirm that she loved him. Convince her of his feelings for her. She'd put herself out there for him so many times. And she asked him to do the same. How could he? When he had so much to lose? Either way, he was caught in an unfair situation. Loving her would hurt him so much more than her loving him. He'd always be here. Unchanging. But she, would not. She didn't understand that simple fact. Eventually, he'd be forced by biology to let her go. He could not consider condemning her to a long, seemingly endless lifetime of blood and darkness. He could never take away her golden sun. "You should go now," Janine said, shifting her chin out of the grip of his gentle fingers. This Patrick, this kind, gentle, heartbroken man had too much power over her. Gathering all of his will, Patrick stopped his descent. Mere inches separated them and he longed to feel the soft press of her lips against his. "Ok." He'd put her through enough heartache for one day. He wouldn't compound the error by kissing her, no matter how much he wanted to. Opening his fingers, he released her chin. There were so many things he wanted to say. Should say. If he had words to adequately describe his feelings. He did not. Words could hardly do them justice. Throwing Janine a wistful glance, he managed to find the strength to get off the bed, force his feet to move, open the door, and close it behind him. Chapter 7 Anna nervously picked at the hem of her blouse as she watched her boss. She was a woman of her word and when she promised Bryce she'd talk to her boss today, she meant it. The expressions on his face shifted like storm clouds while he read her resignation letter. Her explanation for resigning had been simple. She was moving out of town. That's all he really needed to know, and it was the truth. She thought she was being generous, she was only required to give two weeks notice. Instead, she'd given him a month, plenty of time to find a replacement. "Anna," her boss shifted in his seat after placing her neatly typed and eloquent letter of resignation on his blotter. "We've known each other a long time, are you certain about this? You've become quite respected in the firm." He cast a glance up at her and narrowed his eyes. Anna was an up and coming star in her career. "Has someone made you another offer? I'm almost certain I can counter any offer, if that's what it takes to keep you here." He leaned back in his chair and waited. Anna shook her head. She didn't think in all her years at the firm, she'd ever stood on this side of the desk and had a civilized conversation with her boss. Usually, if he called her into his office, it wasn't a good thing. He was moody and temperamental. And generally had no use for anybody. But, the firm was the most reputable firm in the city. They didn't build skyscrapers. They created works of art. "No, I've had no other offers. What I said in my letter is the truth. I'm moving out of town." She pointed a finger to the letter. Her pale pearl nail polish blended in with the bland white blotter on his desk while her ring stood out glittering in stark comparison. Uh huh, sure, her boss grinned, seeing the ring on her finger. She had another offer all right. One he couldn't counter. People got the wrong impression of him and he could sense her nervousness, saw it in the twitch of her fingers as they toyed with the hem of her blouse. He wasn't a tyrant. He had a heart, beating in his slightly overweight, just a teeny bit beyond middle-aged chest. "Anna, I feel like we can talk openly and honestly at this point. Are you relocating because you're getting married? If that's the case, I want you to reconsider relocating." Anna nodded, beaming. She hadn't told anyone at the office about her engagement or her resignation yet because she didn't want to answer fifty million questions and she didn't want a fuss made over her when she left. She simply wanted to collect her things and sneak quietly away. "We haven't set a date yet." "Congratulations," he smiled and rested his chin on his fingertips. "You don't think he'd reconsider moving here do you? The city has a lot to offer a newlywed couple. And your career is progressing well ahead of schedule. Within a few years you'll make partner. And that position comes with a generous increase in your salary." Anna bit her lip, practically drooling over his offer. More money meant more shoes, purses, designer clothes, a bigger house, a better car. "No, he's pretty attached to his hometown." "I see." He pulled a file out of the overflowing inbox on his desk. "I have a client call in this morning and he asked for you specifically. It's a big opportunity Anna." Anna took the folder from his hand and flipped through the intake sheets. Her boss had a brilliant mind, but he couldn't spell for shit and his handwriting was somewhere along the lines of chicken scratches. "I can't get this done in a month." She closed the folder and slid it across the desk. It would be a good opportunity. The client, a man named O'Rourke, wanted to knock down half of old downtown and build a series of high end apartment complexes. The project was right up her alley. Immediately, her thoughts went to Marcus. Old downtown was where he grew up. The mean streets and seedy ruins of urban decay were his playground as a child. She could turn the ugliness into something beautiful. But, she couldn't have the plans drawn up in a month. It would take months, maybe a year, of careful planning to get the project out of her head and onto blueprints. Longer than that for the city council to approve the project, and perhaps, two years before the first sad remains of a gentler, more progressive era, were bulldozed to the ground. This was a big, big project and exactly what she'd always dreamed of sinking her teeth into. "Sorry. How about Bob? He's good." Anna had been trying to find a way to make up for throwing a drink in his face and breaking his big toe with the heel of her shoe at the office Christmas party. He had yet to accept her apologies. And he still walked with a limp whenever she was around. Dawn's Never Ending Glow "The client was very specific, you or nobody." Her boss pushed the file across the desk and stared up at Anna. He could see the wheels turning in her mind and the glimmer of temptation in her blue eyes. She was going to do it. "He'll be here at six tonight to meet with you." Anna scoffed at her boss's eagerness. He already knew she was going to take the project. Maybe, she should have thrown professionalism out the window and just packed her things and left. Not only was her boss trying to cram the project down her throat. But he was demanding her to stay after hours to meet with a client about a project she didn't plan to start. She wasn't about to let him push her around. No matter how tempting the project was or how big of a name it would make for her. "Sorry." Anna shoved the manila folder back across the desk. "Anna, I'm begging you, please at least meet with him." He pressed his hand down pinning the folder to the desk stopping its advance across the sleek, polished surface. "Maybe, we can work something out." He smiled at her, shooting her the smile that launched fear into the hearts of lesser men, hoping she would cave. He knew she was a sucker for this kind of work. "You could do most of the project from home. I'd keep you at your current salary. You'd only have to commute to the city a few times a month to meet with the client." He lifted his hand off the folder and played the last card he had to play. Counting on her ego to seal the deal. "I'm assuming you're not letting this man drag you off to the wilds of Alaska or some other ungodly place." The truth was that the client had offered the firm a huge sum of money to retain Anna's services. Money the firm desperately needed in this economy. Not to mention, if she could pull it off, she'd get spots on the news and in the paper. It was a win-win situation. She'd get what she wanted, the firm would get a handsome pay out, and he'd have all the free advertising for the firm that he could want. This project was a career maker for the both of them. "You know you want this. Lets give it a try," he said in a voice that simply would not take 'no' for an answer. Anna eyed the folder longingly. Her boss was pulling out all the stops in an attempt to keep her. A fact that really gave her ego a thorough massage. She'd half expected him to demand that she pack up her office and leave immediately once she delivered her notice. She hadn't expected an offer to work from home. The workaholic side of her wanted to snatch the folder and dig in. The romantic side of her wanted to forget the project, pack up, leap into Toby's arms, and forget the world. "Ok," the workaholic side said, "I'll do it. But," the romantic side chimed in, "I'll work until this project is done, and then, that's it." He smiled triumphantly. "Deal." He pushed the folder into her hands. "Better get started." Anna clutched the file tightly in her hands, making her way back to her office. She couldn't believe it. Could she really have the best of both worlds? She could be at Toby's side and work from home, earning her own money, a hell of a lot of it, and make a name for herself. She could have it all. She settled into her chair and began studying the file in preparation for the meeting. ****** Janine lowered her scrub brush into the bucket of strong smelling chemicals and sat back on her haunches with a satisfied huff. Her limbs were aching and the sunburn was tight and tender across her back. But, she had less than a week to get the shop ready to open. She'd spent the morning on a ladder, cleaning away layers of grime off the wide plate glass windows. And now, the white tiled floors got her undivided attention. The hard work had been a very diversion for her, keeping her mind off of Patrick. She squeaked in surprise when a tap on the spotless glass drew her attention. She looked up to see a girl, in her late teens, staring down at her. "Hi, I'm Lori. Robbie called and wanted me to come help you out," the girl shouted through the glass. "Ok." Janine said, groaning as she scrambled to her feet. Robbie had told her that she was calling back the summer help and they might stop by to lend a hand. She pointed, motioning the girl to the locked back door. She was still very cautious and on edge since meeting the Roark on Alex's wedding day. Opening the door, she practically jerked the girl inside by the collar. "Hi, I'm Janine." The girl made Janine's insides quiver with envy. She was young, tanned, blonde, with big expressive eyes, and very thin. Not scrawny and gangly, but shapely thin and tone. Janine wanted to choke the living daylights out of the girl for being so damned cute and young. She forced a friendly smile and stuck out her hand. This girl had been working at the shop since she was sixteen and knew the ropes well. Better to make a friend than an enemy. Janine had never so much as taken a food order in her life. Janine lived the life of a typical upper middle class teenager. Graduated high school and went straight to college, living off her parent's visa card. After college, she landed a good job in a bank and worked there until the problems with the rogues broke out and she'd been forced to quit and move into the compound. "Ah." Lori shifted uncomfortably under the woman's stare. Janine looked at her with a certain measure of distaste, like she was something disgusting on the bottom of her shoe. "What needs done?" Her eyes ran over the glimmering, stainless steel, counters, spotless floors, and flawless windows. This woman was a powerhouse, all the cleaning looked like it was already finished and she wasn't sure how she could help out, or if the woman even wanted her to. Lori had her doubts about how well she and Janine would get along. The woman was staring her down and checking her out, practically scowling at her. Lori forced a smile. "Have you gotten the ice cream machines cleaned yet? I could do that." She was going to have to prove her worth and win this woman over. She wished Corrine were still alive. By now, they'd be laughing and chatting, giving each other a through report of the events of the past year. Lori blinked back a tear, missing Robert and Danielle. The summers wouldn't be the same without them. Last fall, after they died in an accident, Robbie had tried to keep the shop open, but she was so grief stricken that she hadn't been able to keep up. Before that, the summers past, work had been fun, filled with jokes and laughter. Occasionally, some one would end up with an ice cream cone in the face or deep in a maraschino cherry fight. But, Janine was serious as a heart attack and all business. "That sounds great," Janine replied. She hadn't been able to master the monstrosity and couldn't figure out how to take it apart to clean the inside. But, she didn't want this kid showing her up by admitting that she had no clue. "I haven't gotten to it yet," she lied, returning to her bucket and scrub brush. Lori got to work, taking apart the ice cream machine and washing the parts. This was her third summer here and probably her last. In a few weeks, she'd start her online classes at the local vo-tech and then it was on to college. Her parents weren't rich. Her mom was a nurse and her dad was a truck driver. She was going to do what she could to spare them the burden of paying for her college tuition. And the credits she earned from the vo-tech would transfer anywhere. Another year at home wouldn't kill her. Although, she might have to put her foot down and move into the tiny apartment above the garage her parents occasionally rented out when money got tight. Maggie, her little sister, who tried to act so much older than her fifteen years, was a real pain in the neck. Maggie didn't appreciate the things she did for her. What she went through. Lori, the oldest, was the experimental child. The one her parents used to learn from. She paved the way for her little sister. Any mistakes her mom and dad made in parenting were on her instead of on her baby sis. Hours later, the shop was immaculate. Ice cream was flowing in creamy, white spirals. And flavors of orange, cherry, and grape bubbled in the fountains. Janine popped the last bundle of thick white napkins into a stainless holder and positioned it on the table. "I think that's it," she said, stepping back to admire their hard work. "I think so," Lori agreed. She and Janine spent the day engaged in small talk while they worked. Now, that Lori knew her new boss a little better, she guessed her last summer at What's the Scoop would be salvageable and maybe in the future, Janine and she might become friends. She put the finishing touches on the cones and handed one to Janine. "It's tradition. Employees always get the first cone of the season." She smiled and winked knowingly, "Robbie certainly isn't going to eat one." Janine took the cone from Lori. "You know about Robbie?" "I know about everything. Corrine, Robert and Danielle were more than coworkers. They were my friends. Everyone here is family." Lori took Janine's arm winding it through hers. "Here like this," she explained, extending her cone to Janine in a toast. "You're a...?" Janine took her free hand and slid a length of blonde hair away from the right side of Lori's neck to reveal a tattooed symbol exactly like hers. Lori was a donor. God, the kid was barely old enough to vote and she'd already been inducted. "Hey, we're melting here." Lori knew Janine was a donor, bonded to Patrick. As a human member of the Sons, Lori grew up attending meetings and dancing around the bonfire with the brothers. When she'd turned eighteen, she'd eagerly joined up. Willing to take her place as a donor. She couldn't wait for the day when she would be chosen to be a ps'qui kah-noh, a blood friend, cherished and bonded exclusively to one Son. Feeding him, or her, and only that member from her wrist for the rest of her life. "Here's to a great season," Janine said. Making an ice cream cone toast, tipping the cones together and lowering her face to Lori's cone, she opened her mouth to take a bite. Lori grinned. Time to baptize the new member. When Janine had her mouth around the end of Lori's cone, Lori pushed the cone straight into Janine's face, smearing her with the thick, sticky, sweet, goo. The first cone of the season never tasted like any cone thereafter. Lori ducked, but ended up with a cold, slick blob of ice cream in her hair. This summer was definitely going to be ok, she thought as she retaliated, lobbing a sugar cone at Janine's head. "You brat!" Janine was laughing so hard she was crying. She took her fingers and scooped the sticky goo off her cheek, flinging it at Lori. Lori returned fire, smearing a handful of ice cream into Janine's hair. Giggling, the girls chased one another through the shop, careful not to make too big of a mess, and ruin all their hard work. Snorting and laughing, Lori said, "You're officially a What's the Scoop girl now." "Thanks for the initiation." Janine chuckled as she wet down a rag and began wiping away the sticky mess dripping from the ends of her hair. The kid was ok. Cute as a button, which still rankled her, but at that age, maybe someone had been a little jealous of her. Good employees were hard to find, and someone you could trust even harder. It wasn't Lori's fault that she was young and time and gravity had a chance to its teeth into her yet. "It was my pleasure," Lori replied taking the rag from Janine and dabbing at the tangled mess in her hair. Summer had officially begun. The month didn't matter. According to the calendar summer was still two months away. But, who cared. Summer was a state of mind, not a date on the calendar. ***** Patrick kept his distance, not wanting Janine to sense him through the blood bond. He was just checking on her. Making sure she was safe. With his superior hearing, he heard the feminine peals of laughter coming from the shop. He sighed at least SHE was having a good time. He was hungry, lonely, and definitely not having any fun. Damn irritable. And everyone was giving him a wide berth. His hunt in the woods curbed the worst of his appetite, for the time being. But, soon he'd need human blood as a supplement. He didn't want just any donor, he pouted, dropping silently from the rooftop. He wanted her. Chapter 8 Anna looked up from the receptionist desk, waving as the last straggler left the office for the night. She was seated up front, impatiently waiting for her client to arrive. She still had fifteen minutes or so before he was expected. Enough time for a quick call to check in with Toby. She hit speed dial on her cell phone and waited impatiently for him to pick up. "Hello beautiful," Toby said, grinning like a banshee as he answered the call. "Hi. How was your day?" Anna smiled. She loved it when he called her beautiful. She doubted if anyone else in the world saw her that way. But, when it came from him. She believed it. "Lonely. Boring. Anna, I miss you." Toby pouted. "How was yours?" "Oh, lonely and boring," Anna teased, barely able to contain the excited tone in her voice. She couldn't wait to tell him the news. "I turned in my notice today." She pulled her leg across her lap fiddling with the buckle on her pump. "That's great!" Toby hesitated and took a breath. He didn't want to sound too eager. "When's the big day?" "Well, I leave the office in a month. But, my boss has one last project he wants me to do. Toby," she puffed out an excited breath, "it's a big one. My boss agreed to let me do most of the work from home. I'll only have to come to the city a couple of times a month or so." Toby hissed out a breath, a month. She was going to continue working in the city for a month? He knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. She was a workaholic, a hopeless workaholic. It was only one more month. "I wish you were here with me now. A whole month? Really?" Anna giggled at the pout in Toby's voice. "Toby it's only a month." What difference could a month make? She understood his eagerness. She was eager to be with him as well. But, damn was she eager to get into the meat of this project too. "It seems like forever." He whined, "I guess I'll have to endure it." "I guess so." She knew he was teasing her. "I have a lot of packing to do and plenty to keep me busy. You have no idea how much stuff I really have." Scoffing, Toby said, "Yeah I do." "It's not that much stuff," Anna grumbled defensively. "Love me, love my stuff." Hearing the ding announcing the arrival of the elevator on her floor, she hastily hopped to her feet to unlock the office door for her client. "Hey, I gotta go, my client is here." "Ok, call me when you get home." He paused, glancing at the time. "Do the trackers know you're working late?" He worried about her safety especially after Roark popped up on their territory. And after rush hour ended and the offices and shops closed for the evening, downtown was not a safe place to be. "Oh, don't be such a ninny," Anna huffed. "I'm fine. If it will make you happy, I'll call Bryce before I leave." She didn't understand his concern. The streets below were filled with commuters and she was perfectly safe in her office building. Security was just a push of a button away. Often, when she was in the middle of a project, she lost track of time and stayed far later than she'd intended. That was the main reason she paid the overpriced fee to park in the garage instead of taking the train. Nope, she wasn't an idiot. And being stuck on a deserted train platform after dark was not a good idea. "Good. Have him pick you up. I don't want you in that parking garage alone after dark." Anna rolled her eyes. She had mace on her key chain and there were security cameras in the garage. But, whatever, if it made him happy, she'd call Bryce to pick her up. "Ok, I will. Love you... gotta go." Anna snapped the phone shut and slid it into her pocket just as two men dressed in expensive business suits reached the glass door. She smoothed her bun and pasted on a smile. "Mr. O'Roarke?" she asked, ushering them inside and locking the door behind them. She did not want the cleaning people barging in and interrupting the meeting. Roark regarded the woman as she approached. She was much more beautiful in person. The harsh hairstyle and tasteless business suit couldn't mask the beauty that lay beneath. "I'm O'Rourke and this is my associate, Mr. Keene." He accepted the hand Anna politely offered and smiled. Keene and he were both experts at hiding what they were from humanity. Even though she knew about his world, he was confident that she wouldn't pickup on the truth of what they were. "Mr. O'Rourke," Anna said, grasping his hand and pumping it up and down in a shake. Nodding she acknowledged his associate and offered her hand. "Mr. Keene." Mr. O'Rourke was medium height and lean. Well dressed in a custom tailored pinstripe suit. He wore his long, brown hair sleeked back into a tight ponytail, gathered at the nape of his scalp. His eyes were shrewd and hard. And quite frankly, his stare, focused on her, gave her a serious case of the creeps. She began to regret that she'd sent the receptionist home instead of asking her to stay. His associate, Mr. Keene, was thick and muscular, looking very uncomfortable and stifled in the plain black suit and tie. He was taller than she, which was saying a lot, since she stood eye-to-eye with most men. Muscle bound, he looked like he could stop a Mack truck without breaking a sweat. The office lights gleamed reflected off his bald scalp. And a pair of thin, ginger-colored brows, furrowed into a deep frown over a pair of absolutely ruthless, cold, gray eyes completely devoid of emotion. Anna kept her cool and ushered her clients into the back of the office where she had a conference room set up for the meeting. Something was off about these two. But, she couldn't put her finger on what it was. They weren't vampires. After hanging out with the brothers, she knew how to spot one. The telltale pallor of their skin, the intensity of their stare, the speed and grace in which they moved, were all dead giveaways. These two were nothing like that. They were strange... just very strange. And they made her skin crawl. Nervously, Anna patted the pocket of her suit jacket. Relieved to find her cell phone still there. "I spent all afternoon reviewing your folder. If you'll have a seat, I'll show you what I've come up with so far." She walked to the head of the table and pulled out the folders she'd prepared for the meeting, handing one to Mr. O'Roarke and one to Mr. Keene. "Can I offer you something to drink before we get started?" Roark smiled congenially and gracefully sank into the posh chair. Oh yes, he thought, he'd drink...deeply. "No thank you." Casually, he sniffed the air, appearing as if he were taking a deep breath as he idly flipped through the folder's contents. He had made a late appointment, hoping the office would be empty and the staff gone for the evening. He was not disappointed. There was no one else in the office but them. The entire floor and most of the building was deserted. No one to hear her scream. No witnesses to see what he had in mind for her. Anna all but fell into her chair. These two were creepy. She gave them time to riffle through the files as she laid enlarged versions of her sketches on the table. Thank God the conference room was large and the width of the polished oak table put plenty of distance between them. Usually, she went for a cozier space when dealing one on one with clients. But, with the kind of money this man was willing to invest in the project. Several million dollars give or take a few odd cents. She'd chosen the larger, definitely more formal room instead. "These are good," Roark said, pretending to have interest in her drawings. The land was a mere drop in the bucket to him, purchased for a pittance. He had money in abundance. The project was a ruse, a tax deduction for his corporation. He was prepared to take a loss, a rather large loss, on the property. The urban squalor made for good hunting. Depravity, poverty, and crushed spirits were fine eating. He had no plans of actually renovating the space. He had to move quickly though, before her watchdogs picked up his trail and interrupted what he did have planned.