Dawn Unleashed

His wolf didn't like the city. Even subdued by a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The city had a smell to it that didn't agree with him, acrid and almost bitter on the back of his tongue. His wolf cringed at the noise, even on a night as eerily quiet as this. Hunter didn't blame his wolf. He didn't care for the city much himself. Bad things had happened here to them. Things that neither he nor his wolf would ever forget. Hunter pressed them on through the cold. To where? He wasn't sure yet. But, his boy was out here somewhere.

Hunter's wolf was a crafty son of a bitch. Sometimes his wolf even surprised Hunter himself with his cunning. When words evaded him, his wolf, seemed to know how to get what they wanted. Hunter knew his son. Daniel was stubborn and headstrong. Somehow, he had to manipulate the boy into thinking that coming back to the pack was his idea rather than his father's. What would work? There wasn't much sense in preplanning what to say. When the time was right. Hunter would know. With their boy's life, he trusted his wolf's intuition, much, much more than him own.

Daniel toyed with the idea of calling his father long before he worked up the courage to do it. If Eric found out he'd talked to his dad, he might use it somehow. Yessette was in danger. Eric had said so himself. If he didn't get a wolf, she was as good as dead. But, if he got his father involved, Eric would try to capture him as well. Daniel was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't know where to turn. The only thing he knew was that if he were to save Yessette's life, he needed to give Eric what he wanted.

Even now, his wolf was stirring back to life within his skin in response to feeling the metaphysical pull of another wolf so close at hand. He needed his wolf. He needed his father. Daniel listened as the cell phone rang and rang. He was about to give up hope, maybe his father had indeed written him off after all, when his voice mail picked up.

Daniel wouldn't let Eric hurt his father. A plan, albeit weak, fluttered in the back of his mind. If he could just get close enough to his father to recharge his wolf for the time being. Long enough to placate Eric into believing. Things would be ok. Yessette would be safe. He didn't worry much about his father. His dad was too smart to end up in a trap. "Dad, I need to see you."

Chapter 13

Carter did his best to ignore the calling of Shayla's spirit in his heart. Ever since his last infusion of her blood, he'd felt, unsettled. A part of him longed to go back and rebuild what he'd destroyed with his unfaithfulness to her. He didn't need her. He didn't want her. And she certainly didn't deserve to be burdened down with one such as he. She was far too good for him. Pure things weren't for him. His stain went soul deep. Not even the sweetness of her blood could turn him from the path of his own destruction. The sooner she realized this, the better for the both of them.

He wanted to blame the cancer in his soul on somebody other than himself. Who? Yessette? Eric? They had done their parts to see to his demise. But, in the end he had no one to blame but himself. He'd let them lead him down this path. Love held him to Yessette and the bitterness of this life drew him to Eric like a moth to a flame. The fault wasn't theirs. Darkness had claimed their souls long before he'd surrendered to its oblivion.

Yessette was a mere shadow of the woman she'd once been. The boy did yet realize exactly what Yessette was. Death. There was no anger left in him at what she'd done to the boy. Daniel, much like him, had chosen his own path. There was still time for the boy, however. The hope, what little there was, lie with his father. That was the only reason he'd agreed to help O'Sullivan implement his plan.

This betrayal would seal his fate with the wolves forever. There'd be no forgiveness for this. Only death, swiftly delivered with sharp fangs and lethal claws. And, damn, was he ready to end it. They trailed behind the boy. Carefully, hiding their scents downwind. Daniel wouldn't notice their presence, but his father would.

Daniel shivered against the bitter wind and bite of snow slapping against his cheeks. He'd snuck out. Not that he had to sneak. He was hardly under lock and key these days. But, he hadn't wanted Eric to know where he was going or whom he was meeting when he got there. He hoped like hell his dad checked his messages. Daniel had left a time and a place and no other details on the voice mail message.

Cautiously, Daniel peeked over his shoulder at the deserted sidewalk behind him. He tried to trap his father's scent in his nostrils and got a nose full of cold air for his trouble. His teeth chattered and he sneezed, reminding him of exactly how close to being human he was now.

Eric had taken every precaution to hide their presence from the master wolf. Giving away the game when it was so close to victory was not acceptable at this late stage. Daniel skidded around a corner, oblivious to how closely he was being trailed. He'd been observing Daniel for weeks, unbeknownst to the boy. There was no such thing as taking a wolf by force. The surrender of such a wild creature, had to be done with a little more finesse than that.

Daniel clumsily ducked into a dark, narrow alley. Gravel dusted with snow and ice ground against the soles of his boots as he walked deeper into the darkness. He could feel the tingle of energy stirring the air. His father's power called to the wolf dormant beneath Daniel's skin. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. This would work. "Dad."

Hunter gracefully eased around the corner of an abandoned dumpster left to rust in the alleyway. "Daniel." He ran his eyes over his son. Daniel was so weak. Bundled in a thick leather coat, shivering so violently that he could barely maintain his footing on the loose gravel. Melting snow dampened the ends of his dark hair. Daniel still looked so young. A protective instinct deep inside Hunter's chest roared to life. The vampires had almost destroyed his son. The SUV idled at the end of the alley, blocking off one exit. Something Daniel, if he'd had his wolf with him, would have avoided. No predator willingly walked into a trap. Daniel was too human. His rescue would be easy, almost too easy as a matter of fact. Hunter scented the air and growled.

Eric rounded the alleyway and almost laughed at the ease of the set up. Things couldn't have worked out better if he'd planned it himself. The idling SUV blocked one exit and Carter blocked the other. Obviously, Hunter had the same idea that he had, although the quarry was slightly different. He'd come to save his son. Drag him back to the woods. Little did Daniel's father know, that he was going to do just that, rescue his son after all. Eric glanced up to the low-lying rooftops above. "Yessette."

Yessette was excited. She could get into Eric's good graces again after all. All she had to do was what came naturally. With the grace of a cat, she leapt from the rooftop and landed silently on the balls of her feet. Faster than Daniel could blink, she was on him. She held him as easily as a child would cling to a rag doll. The scent of his fear was thick in the air, teasing her. "I'm so hungry," she drawled.

Daniel wiggled in Yessette's embrace. He was too weak to break free of her hold. His wolf wasn't back and he was too close to being human to wrangle his way free. O'Sullivan paused to pat him on the head as he sauntered past. "Good boy." Daniel heaved in disgust. He'd done exactly what he'd promised himself he wouldn't. Delivered his father into a trap. He tried to resist the draw of Yessette's lips on his flesh. Inside, he shivered, not from the cold, but from sheer pleasure. A part of him wanted her to taste him, sample him, and drink him up until he was spent.

"Sorry we had to go to such extreme measures to arrange a meeting," O'Sullivan said. He grinned as he slowly approached the wolf. Power shimmered in the air as Daniel's father struggled to hold his human shape. Eric drank it in. This was exactly the wolf he needed. "I just love family reunions, don't you? The reconciliation of father and son, quite a touching moment, don't you think?"

"What do you want?" Hunter rasped. Losing his head to his wolf wasn't going to help him or Daniel now. His wolf could take out one, maybe two of the vampires, but not all of them. The female vampire holding his son would be the primary target for his wolf. But, he might, hurt Daniel in the process. His fingers itched to go for the blade hidden beneath his jacket. O'Sullivan wouldn't be so stupid as to be unarmed. But, then again he didn't need weapons to win this particular fight. One nod from him and Yessette would kill his son. His wolf scrabbled at his brain for freedom, spilling his metaphysical alpha wolf power over him in a wash of rage.

"A little incentive for you cooperation." Eric snapped his fingers. "Yessette."

Right on cue, Yessette lowered her mouth to Daniel's exposed neck and tore at the fragile skin with the sharp tip of her fang. The blood tasted sweet and rich. A decadent treat she rarely got to indulge in. After her accident, almost killing the boy once before, she was forbidden from feeding on him. Eagerly, she teased at the edges of the wound, releasing a steady trickle of blood across the tip of her tongue. Smacking her lips, she glanced at Eric. "I want more."

"Patience, Yessette," O'Sullivan cautioned. He had no desire to kill the boy, not yet. The boy was still useful, if for nothing else than the hold he had over his father. Family loyalty was something he'd learned was as deadly, if not more so, than a pair of sharp fangs. "I can't hold her off forever. It'd be a shame for her to drain him dry. Although, I suppose if worse came to worse, we could make him one of us."

"Bastard," Hunter spat with menace. If it weren't for the fangs in his son's throat, he'd take the son of a bitch out and his little whore right along with him. Carter stood placidly in the background, making sure no one heard or saw a thing. The betrayal of one he'd once called brother, turned his stomach.

Carter hoped Hunter could read his body language from a distance. He was trying to communicate to him. For now, let O'Sullivan win. There'd be another time. For now, all Hunter would accomplish by resisting was getting himself and his son killed. Eric would do it without remorse or pity. Use their corpses as a means to draw in more and more wolves until he held them all under his thumb.

Hunter weighed his options through narrowed eyes. He couldn't take Yessette without risking his son. Given the moan of pleasure escaping his son's lips at the offering of his blood. Hunter wasn't so sure which side of the fight Daniel would be on. Eric was powerful, but Hunter might stand a chance against him, if not for Carter. He'd never defeat them both. Swallowing his pride and his wolf, he breathed out a long sigh and dropped his weapons. "Lead the way."

"Excellent." O'Sullivan grinned in triumph. He withdrew a syringe loaded with clear fluid from his pocket and uncapped the needle. "You'll understand if a few safety precautions are necessary."

Hunter pulled his arm out of the sleeve of his jacket and tensed his bicep. "Do it." The needle stung as it punctured his skin. Warmth, heady and heavy spread up his shoulder. He forgot the tension of the moment as the drugs took hold and carried him unwillingly into the darkness.

Chapter 14

Shayla bounced R.J. on her knee and sipped a cup of hot tea. Even though she hadn't officially declared herself on the market for a husband. Suitors still knocked on her door now and again. She couldn't guess what they saw in her. To the pack, she should be seen as damaged goods. After all, it was she who had led a traitor into their midst in the first place. No one blamed her though. If anything, they pitied her, which was much, much worse. Her most recent self-proclaimed admirer sat across from her awkwardly shifting his weight in the chair.

Tracker looked Shayla up and down. He'd driven all the way from Texas for the chance to steal her heart. Shayla was prime stock, sturdy and made for bearing young. The fact that she'd already had one successful pregnancy spoke for itself. Children were rare amongst his kind. That the mother and child had survived the delivery and the precarious weeks that followed afterwards was seen as a badge of courage and honor in the pack. It didn't hurt that he found Shayla to be witty, intelligent, and easy on the eyes too. Her cool aloofness didn't deter him in the least. Women always played hard to get. Shayla was no different. She sat in the chair with her son on her knee, coolly sipping her tea while she considered his invitation.

Tracker had a lot to offer and he knew it. Born and trained to be an omega, a rather lowly station in life to be sure, but one of great value and necessity. He was genetically engineered to be the best of the best. His body and his mind were the product of decades of careful planning and consideration. He could well prove how fierce and lethal he was in a fight. He'd spent many years protecting his pack mistress from harm. Now that the pack had merged into a larger one and moved from Texas to this godforsaken Midwest wasteland of ice and snow and now that Eloise had a husband to protect her and she had basically cut her omegas free to forge a life of their own choosing. He could finally start living, for once, for himself.

Shayla had always held his interest. Although until now, he could only admire her from afar. She was a pretty little thing. Younger than him by decades, but, when time was on your side, who counted? Her sleek black hair, tightly and neatly pulled back into a ponytail draped past the tops of her shoulders. She was slight, almost tiny, compared to him. She held her son so gently. Her delicate fingers, balanced him so carefully as they rested on his pudgy baby waist. Wide brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes, soft as a doe's eyes studied him intently.

Inwardly, Shayla supposed she should be flattered. The last suitor had left a carcass outside her bedroom window as a sign of his interest. Tracker had a little more finesse than that. The flowers were lovely and to travel all the way from Texas to see her, she should be fawning at his feet in adoration.

Tracker wasn't a bad specimen of manhood. Quite the opposite, she had to admit. He was bred for strength and speed with long powerful legs, a trim waist, and broad shoulders. His standing in the gene pool was definitely not in the shallow end. He had grown his hair out since the last time she'd seen him over a year ago. Thick, lush, tresses of rich luxurious hair so dark it was almost black danced around the tops of his shoulders. Equally luscious lashes framed a pair of deeply set, hazel eyes, more gold than brown in the dim lamplight. Long fingers that could stroke a woman's secret places so gently or squeeze the life out of an enemy with lethal efficiency drummed nervously on the tops of his knees as he waited for her answer. He oozed of manliness and testosterone, unspent and too long pent up.

Dating. She hadn't even considered that one. Going on with her life. That was her plan. But, actually going out on a date? R.J. seemed content enough with Tracker's company. He slobbered and blew spit bubbles at him, just the same as he would have at anybody else. Tracker didn't seem to mind that she'd stubbornly kept R.J. at her side throughout his visit. But, was she ready to close the door on Carter as firmly as he'd slammed it in her face? Ready or not, she had to face the fact that he wasn't coming back. Ever. "Coffee," Shayla said with a questioning, uncertain nod.

"Or soda, if you want." Tracker couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. His twin, Catcher, thought he was a fool for driving up here in the middle of a snowstorm to chase after a female. The months of solitude in Texas suited his brother fine. Catcher loved to dig his hands in the soil and make things grow. Tracker was no stranger to hard work and didn't mind helping out making whatever repairs were necessary to keep the empty cottages and gravel lanes in working order. But, he wanted something a little more for his life than hammering a few nails and painting houses nobody might ever return to.

"Maybe, something a little stronger. You call it." Inside, his wolf sang in triumph at her acceptance, no matter how hesitant it might be. He knew about Carter. Personally, he had no grudge against the vampire. Most of the pack didn't quite agree with him though. But, he'd been there in the thick of things the night Carter had saved Eloise's life. Carter was a noble vampire, if such a thing actually existed. Carter had risked his neck for the pack, for Mistress Eloise, and for Shayla. Because of that Tracker respected the man. Unfortunately because of what he'd done to Shayla, Carter had gone down or perhaps up, depending on how the date went.

Shayla was not a ruined woman. She wasn't the type to let anyone bring her down. If nothing else she was a survivor. Tracker admired that quality in her beyond her beauty and the promise of the young she might someday bear. The truth of what had happened between Shayla and Carter remained a vague mystery of rumor and supposition. He'd asked around to make sure the path was clear and nobody actually knew the why of what had happened, only that it had. Could Carter come back someday? Tracker supposed it could happen and in her current shattered state, Shayla might, just might let him back in. Carter might come back and expect to find the home fires still burning for him. Tracker was going to have to make sure that didn't happen. It looked like the chase for a mate was on.

Shayla eyed Tracker. In not so many words he'd made his intentions clear. This was no simple request for coffee. He had more than cream and sugar on his mind. She felt a slight twinge of guilt and then promptly chastised herself for the unwanted and obviously unnecessary discomfort. Carter had left without so much as a glance over his shoulder. He walked out and left her standing alone at the window staring after him. He left and he'd left her behind. She wasn't doing anything wrong in accepting an invitation to coffee or anything else. Her life was hers to live, hers and her son's. Anything beyond her basic loyalty to the pack was hers to choose. "I think coffee is a good start."

Chapter 15

Bianca looked like a snow bunny straight out of some swanky ski resort. Clad in heavily padded nylon leggings, fur trimmed boots, and matching jacket, she hardly resembled the lethal killer Michael knew existed beneath all those feminine curves. They pounded the streets on patrol. Not much was happening on a night like tonight. Except for the cold and the damnable snow, which kept on falling and falling everything was quiet. He dressed like a warrior should, in the characteristic black leather that over the years had become as comfortable as a second skin. Physically, the cold didn't affect him. But he shivered, out of the memory of the sting of its bite, he supposed.

Bianca snorted under her breath and corralled Michael down a narrow street, charging directly into the northern winds. Wimp. All she had to do was keep him busy and as far from O'Sullivan's trail of destruction as she could. It was just a matter of time before Michael figured it out and connected the dots. Just as long as the dots didn't connect her to O'Sullivan, let him draw all the conclusions that he wanted. Distraction was something she was damned good at. She'd been doing it all of her existence.

She'd rather be at home stretched out in front of a roaring fire than tromping along the snowy sidewalks of a deserted downtown. Nobody, not even the lowlifes so common after dark were out on a night like tonight. Not even the things that owned the night ventured too far from home in a blizzard. That's what donors were for. Resolved to freeze her ass off, she scuttled along the icy path left behind by commuters desperate to get out of the weather. She took her time. At least, Michael amused her. He worked so hard at being human and denying his inner nature. Watching him shiver in the cold when he didn't need to was quite the source of entertainment. "Should we head back?"