Dawn’s Awakening (39 page)

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Authors: Lora Leigh

BOOK: Dawn’s Awakening
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“No!” Dawn screamed as she tried to jump for Callan.

Horror flashed through her brain as the gun aimed and fired, the bullet slamming into Callan. And he kept coming.

As though it were a dream, slow motion, time slowing almost to a stop. Jason Phelps’s head exploded as Cassie jerked, blood spraying from the side of her head. She toppled forward, hand outstretched, her beautiful eyes closing.

Dawn felt that child’s life flash before her eyes. The little girl that bargained for chocolate, her smile flashing, her blue eyes gleaming with laughter. The child that saw “fairies,” ghosts Cassie had told her about not long ago. Shimmering forms of lives long past who came to her, whispered secrets to her.

She had watched Cassie grow. Sanctuary had been the haven Dash had brought his family to when he needed additional protection for them.

Before Dawn’s eyes Cassie had grown from a child to a young woman, always laughing despite her feelings that she would never fit in, that she would never be accepted because of her dual genetics.

And Callan. She stared at the blood pouring from his chest, his golden hair fanned out around him, his aristocratic, beloved features still and pale as Breeds rushed for him and Dash bellowed in white hot rage as he rushed for his daughter.

And it was Dawn’s fault.

“No. Oh God, no!” She froze; she didn’t know where to run, what to do.

Screams were echoing in her head, orders barked furiously into the link about an unknown shooter, location and trajectory.

And all Dawn could see was Cassie and Callan. So motionless, so pale. Their wounds those that few Breeds had survived. Callan’s to his chest, Cassie’s to the head.

God in Heaven. An enraged roar tore through her as Seth’s arms surrounded her, jerking her to his body as the pain struck in blinding waves through her head.

She jerked from him, fury pumping through her as she fell on the body of the bastard that had hurt so many. Callan’s pale face filled her vision. The image of Cassie, broken, taken from them, filling her head as her hands sank into warm, rich blood and her head tipped back, her roar shaking her body.

Oh God. All because of her. They were gone because of her.

“I have you, sweetheart.” Seth’s rough voice was in her ear as he dragged her back from Phelps’s cooling body. “I have you. I have you, Dawn.”

She collapsed in his arms, sobbing, holding on to him because she couldn’t hold on to herself anymore. She screamed Callan’s name as Breeds tried to staunch the bleeding, as she heard the words losing him ricochet in her mind.

No! They couldn’t lose him. They couldn’t. She hadn’t told him she was sorry. She hadn’t told him she understood why he had tried to protect her from Seth. He hadn’t hugged her. He hadn’t growled at her with that playful half-warning growl that assured her everything was fine between them.

She was losing her brother. Her pride leader. She was losing him, and the agony that lanced through her had her holding tight to Seth. Begging him, begging God, because she didn’t know how to endure this guilt.

Callan and Cassie had died because of her.

 

His rifle secured on his back, he jumped from the trees soundlessly, ducked and ran. He could hear the screams from inside the house. The Cougar screaming her pride leader’s name.

Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Callan Lyons had thrown himself at Phelps just in time to take a bullet. His own bullet had slammed into Phelps less than a breath later, the bullet tearing through his neck as someone else struck Phelps’s head, taking Cassie Sinclair down as well.

Regrettable. Damned fucking regrettable, and he was pissed off over it. But there was no time to stick around and make certain his aim had been true and his own calculations perfect. He had tried to save the girl. A first for him; he had never tried to watch out for casualties before, especially those who deliberately stood in the way.

Cassie Sinclair was better trained than that. She had a fucking suicide wish, and allowing her to follow through on it made him want to shake the shit out of her.

He sprinted across the mansion grounds, a shadow racing around the shadows racing to the house. The Breeds were pouring in from all quarters because their pride leader was down.

He could hear the reports on the link he had managed to acquire and disable the tracking receiver on. He had heard the orders for the Breeds to converge on the ballroom.

“Callan’s down,” someone had yelled into the link. “Son of a bitch, the bastard got him. I repeat, our pride leader is down. He’s down.” There was a heavy silence then. “Oh God, we’re losing him…We’re losing him…”

Fuck! This mission hadn’t gone at all as planned.

CHAPTER 25

The sixth-floor ICU and surgery had been cleared ahead of the Sanctuary heli-jets landing on the helipads on the roof of the hospital.

Feline Breed doctor, surgeon and Council-trained scientist Elyiana Morrey was already prepped and waiting with her Wolf Breed counterpart. They had three Breeds arriving. Pride Leader Lyons; an enforcer, Noble Chavin; and the young Wolf-Coyote Breed, Cassandra Sinclair.

Wolf Gunnar and his mate were on their way in, as were teams of Wolf Breed Enforcers, several of which had arrived due to proximity to the hospital.

The Breed community was converging en masse, protection and security paramount as the pride leader’s family was flown in. His mate and his son. Possibly the heir to the mighty kingdom his father had built.

Initial reports weren’t good. The chest shot was severe, resulting in massive bleeding. They had already lost him once. The great Callan Lyons could be lost to them all before he ever reached surgery.

Waiting with Dr. Morrey were several human surgeons. In a nearby operating room there were three more awaiting Noble, working beneath her assistant. She cast them all a hard glare.

“If we lose Lyons, for any reason, the four of you will die before we leave this operating room.” She nodded to the Breeds that had been forced to scrub up and placed in the room, their rifles held ready. “Don’t fuck with me, gentlemen. You’re the best the Council had in this area, and killing you will not affect me. Killing your wives and seeing your daughters tortured will be my pleasure. Understand that well.”

And they did. They had created the monster they were facing. These four. Each of them had had a hand in her genetics and in her training. They were the best of the best, and in their eyes she saw their fear and their determination to succeed.

“If Lyons dies, they die. It’s your job to then seek out their families, and on their bodies you will practice every torturous method of pain the Council ever taught you,” she ordered the enforcers.

They stared back at the scientists, their gazes flat, hard. All Lion Breeds. All a part of Sanctuary. Their loyalty and their love for their pride leader was absolute.

“The threats aren’t needed, Ely.” Only one had the nerve to speak so comfortably with her.

Her smile was hard as she heard the announcement that her pride leader was within seconds of the surgery. “Pray you’re right, Montaya.” She flashed her canines and growled. “Because liking you above the others won’t save you. It won’t save you, your wife or your daughters. Gentlemen, don’t fail.”

The nurse quickly tied off her mask as the surgery doors burst open, Jonas at the head of the gurney, and Ely felt tears flood her throat, felt pain rush through her body as she glimpsed the wound.

Dear God. She had given an order to kill so many. The damage was severe, the chances so slim. She turned her eyes to Montaya, and rather than anger or rage at the knowledge of the additional blood that would spill if Callan died, she saw only compassion and determination.

She jumped to the gurney as he did, moving quickly, working with him as she had so many times before to save the Breeds that had been brought into the labs. They knew wounds. They knew the Breed physiology. If anyone could save this man, they could.

 

Seth clasped Dawn to him as they rushed into the waiting room filled with Breed Enforcers, leaders and Callan Lyons’s family.

Merinus sat with her son, David. Even at eleven the child sat straight and tall, his eyes dry, his body perfectly balanced between patience and curiosity about his surroundings.

Merinus.

Dawn fought back her sobs as Merinus turned to her, her lips trembling, her eyes welling with tears as she fought to blink them back.

“I’m sorry.” Dawn knelt in front of her. “I’m so sorry.”

The tears were falling from her eyes again.

Dressed in jeans and one of Callan’s T-shirts, the pride leader’s wife looked ravaged.

Merinus shook her head as a tear fell. “It’s not your fault, Dawn. He wasn’t going to let Phelps touch you, ever again. That was his decision. Not yours.” Her voice was husky, filled with tears.

“I’m tellin’ you all, Dad’s going to be okay.” David breathed out wearily as though he had repeated this many times. “You’ll see. He’s tough.”

Merinus’s hands shook as she brought them to her mouth and turned away from her child. Unlike David, they knew the extent of Callan’s injuries.

“Merinus.” Wolf Gunnar and his mate, Hope, stepped forward then. “Dawn.” He stared down at her, his savage features and dark eyes filled with compassion. “Our enforcers are in place, both here and at Sanctuary. Everything’s secured until Callan can take the reins once again.”

Merinus nodded, tried to speak and couldn’t.

Callan. She whispered his name. She prayed and fought to curl into herself to bear the pain. How would she live if he was gone? How would she go on and raise their son as he expected her to? How could she bear it if she lost him, and he hadn’t even known of the child she was carrying now?

She touched the tears on Dawn’s face and tried to tighten her lips against her sobs. This sweet child that Callan loved as he loved his own. The one that awoke him with her nightmares and left him helpless with his rage because he couldn’t heal her above all others.

She loved Dawn herself as a sister, a dear, dear friend. But Callan’s love ran deeper. Nearly as deep as a father’s love and just as binding. He couldn’t have borne that bastard laying a single finger on her, for any reason.

“Dad’s gonna be okay,” David snapped again. He was so sensitive. He could feel the helplessness, the fears running through the room.

Merinus shook her head. She had to believe that. She had to. If she didn’t, she might well lose her mind.

As the thought raced through her, a commotion in the hall began. Gasps, curses, Breeds rushing to make way for something, someone.

Merinus jerked to her feet and pulled her son next to her, uncertain what this new threat was. As it materialized in front of the door, shock raced through her.

It couldn’t be.

She reached out, then pressed her hand to her lips as his gaze found hers. Beside him, another man and a slender woman were consulting with a doctor, but it was the first male that held her rapt attention.

It was Callan, and yet it wasn’t. The same imposing features. The same mane of hair falling to his shoulders, the same golden, piercing eyes as he found her.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be who she thought it was. Who she knew it was.

“That’s Grandpa.” David suddenly piped up. “He smells like Dad and Jonas. And that’s my uncle Dane. I told you he smelled like Dad.”

And David had told Callan many times that Dane Vanderale smelled like him. The problem was, no Breed but David had detected that scent. The Breed’s gaze slid to David, fierce, filled with pride before returning to Merinus.

“How’s my son?”

His son. Merinus stared back at him, as much in shock as every Breed standing in the room.

This was the first Breed to have ever been created. The fabled first Leo and the mate he had stolen from the Council lab he had been created within nearly a century before.

He was rumored to be more than a hundred and twenty years old, yet he looked in his prime, only a few years older than her beloved Callan.

He could have been Callan’s brother rather than his father, and now Merinus knew why Leo Vanderale was so rarely in the public eye. So rare that no one had detected the disguise he obviously used in public, yet hadn’t bothered to use here.

The photos Merinus had seen of him showed a much darker-haired Leo. Eyes more dark brown than golden amber shot with darker hues. The lines on his face in those photos weren’t present now, and the powerful, corded body was very much downplayed in public with what must have been an exceptional eye for clothes and artificial enhancements.

The Leo’s mate, the scientist that had been rumored to be a genius in the genetic workings of the Breeds at the time, still retained a glow of youth. And, like her husband, had drastically altered her appearance at the public events she had attended and in the photos she’d had taken over the past years.

Straight, long dark hair, gray eyes, pert features and clear, unblemished skin. This wasn’t the woman whose hair was shot with gray, whose face was lined to make her appear two decades older than she looked.

They had preserved their secrecy throughout the decades. There had never been so much as a hint that Leo Vanderale could be a Breed, nor that his son could be the first fully grown breed-human hybrid.

Her eyes flashed to Dane Vanderale. He barely looked thirty, but he had to be older. There was proof that Elizabeth Forteniare had conceived before she and the first Leo had escaped confinement in the labs so long ago. There were rumors that the child had survived birth. Dane had to be that child, and no one had ever known.

“So much shock.” His voice was well modulated, just a hint of a foreign accent present in his voice. “Did you think I wouldn’t arrive when my son lies so close to death?”

The first Leo. He was the first Leo and he had been so close for so long. Dane Vanderale stood, strong and sure beside him, and Merinus saw the resemblance then. The same proud features, piercing eyes. The same cocky, arrogant assurance.

Breeds stared at the vision as though staring upon a deity they hadn’t believed existed.

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