Night sat on the deck in the pre-dawn light, waiting for the sun to show itself above the horizon as he had done every morning for the last several decades since learning he was a daywalker. It didn't much matter to him that the temperature was well below freezing or that his breath fogged with every exhale. Missing the dawn was something a male such as himself simply did not do.
Around him, the wood of the cabin and deck was beginning to gleam a rich golden hue in the expanding light. The songbirds of the Alaska forest surrounding his two-story log home were active, as they had been for some hours. A grin spread across his face as he watched the red crossbills squabble over the sideyard bird feeders he stocked for them throughout the winter, and he cocked his head when he heard a moose bull bellow deeper in the trees.
He glanced over his shoulder when the door behind him opened and smiled at his son, Ace, who, blessedly, brought two gigantic insulated travel mugs of coffee with him. Ace was undoubtedly his son; they shared the same black skin, black hair, and square jaw. Ace, however, had managed to inherit his mother's green eyes as opposed to his own brown. Night took the mug offered him and toasted his thanks before settling back into his chair, refocusing on the horizon as he sipped.
Ace dropped into the chair next to him at the table with a soft grunt, scooted another chair to himself, and used it as a makeshift ottoman for his size ten wolverines. After twenty-some-odd years on the planet, he knew to keep quiet and let his sire enjoy the break of day. As he had been doing for the past year, he wondered if he'd be a daywalker, too, after he transitioned into adulthood.
They sat together, sipping the warm comfort-in-a-cup, enjoying each other's company in companionable silence. Dawn was a magical time; it didn't happen all at once, yet Night knew when it occurred as surely as he knew his own name. He closed his eyes when the moment came, relaxing into the sun's light bright enough to have chased all the twinkling stars from the sky. Magic. Pure magic. He smiled and sighed, content, even if only for a few moments.
"So, the new group comes in tomorrow," Ace reminded him, breaking the silence of the morning's reverie.
Night glanced over. "We ready?"
Ace bobbed his head. "Yeah, for the most part. I'm going to head into town for some last-minute supplies. You need anything?"
"Check with Charlie at the hardware store and see if that new rope has come in yet. And, might as well grab some more carabiners." Night sipped, running through his ever-present list of supplies in his head. "Get some coffee, milk, bread, and eggs, too. We'll be out after Last Meal."
"Gotcha. You going to run through the gear again while I'm gone?"
"Nah. You went through it yesterday. I trust you."
Ace smiled over his coffee as he watched the crossbills take flight. "Thanks, dad. That means a lot."
Night arched an eyebrow. "No need to thank me. You're an excellent survivalist and an asset to the business."
"Yeah, I guess. Not as good as you, but..."
The older male scoffed; it was easier to compliment his son than contemplate his personal contribution. "I've got centuries of experience on you, Ace. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Ace squirmed as he flushed and cleared his throat. He changed the subject. "You haven't seen Stephanie in a while. You should probably give her a call. You need to feed."
Breathing out a great sigh, Night slumped. "I know. I just..."
"Don't want to get serious. She's human. I get it."
Night drained his mug. "It's not that she's human as much as she's started to get possessive. I don't want to be attached to her."
As if on cue, Night's phone buzzed, and when he checked it, he saw that it was Stephanie texting, as she did every morning.
Good morning! Do you have dinner plans?
Night ran a hand down his face. There was a time it had been enjoyable to get a text from her. Now? Now, it felt like an intrusion. He put her off.
Got a new group coming in. Busy.
He half-hoped that the brush-off would be enough but knew it wouldn't be. He wasn't surprised when his phone rang ten seconds later. He answered it with dread.
"Yeah."
"Too busy for dinner?" he asked in her overly bubbly voice. "I'm making lasagna. It's your favorite, I know."
He winced, grabbed his mug, and heaved himself out of the chair, the tranquil moment of the dawn ruined. Her voice which had once seemed cute, now grated on his nerves. "Sorry, I don't have time to come out. There's still a lot of prep work to do," he lied as he caught the phone between his ear and shoulder and made his way inside.
"Oh! No probs! I'll bring it by. We'll just pop it in the oven for a bit to warm it up." Her lively tone didn't mask the underlying desperation.
Better to just rip the band-aid off quick, he decided. He could find other women. "Look, Stephanie, I like you, and I have enjoyed our time together, but I don't think..."
Stephanie cut him off, no longer playing the cheerful game. "You don't think what, Night? That we should see each other anymore? Hmm?"
Night paced in front of the crackling fireplace. "Yes. Exactly that."
"We've been seeing each other for six months! You came to meet my mother last week!"
He scowled. "No, I came to have dinner with you. You invited your mother without my knowledge. I only stayed to be polite."
"Fuck you, Night! You don't want to see me anymore? Fine. We're done!"
His phone chimed when the call ended, and he sighed. It's the same every time. He snapped his phone to his belt, shrugged out of his coat, hung it beside the door, then leaned on the mantel over the hearth. He hated finding another source of blood, but there was no way around it. Ideally, he'd have three, maybe four, women in his life to spread things around and make the mind-clouding easier.
He rubbed his left pec absentmindedly and thought of Fleur as he watched the flames of the fire dance. His shellan had gone unto the Fade while giving birth to Ace. He'd have followed her, but Ace, Mehnace as Fleur named him, needed him.
Not that he didn't try, mind you. It was, in fact, that first fateful morning after her passing when he learned he could withstand the sun. He'd carried her body into the dawn, expecting to burst into flames with her, but when she caught alight, and he did not, he had instinctively dropped her flaming carcass and backpedaled, tripping to land on his ass some feet away. He'd watched her body burn, the sun her makeshift pyre, as he felt the heat of both on his dark skin.
It had been a sobering moment, one that he was certain he would be thankful for the rest of his nights... and days. He'd made some haphazard arrangements for Ace's care, but the idea had been stupid. Sending an unknown young to an orphanage in Caldwell, New York, hoping that the primary community would discover him before he transitioned? That he, at any time, thought such a plan would work was ludicrous; clearly, he had not been in his right mind.
Living that first year after her death was the hardest thing he'd done in all of his existence. More difficult, even, than leaving the Black Dagger Brotherhood. A bonded male without his mate was less than whole. But he'd held it together for Ace's sake.
Lost in thought, mesmerized by the sizzling fire, he heard, but didn't hear, Ace come inside. What am I going to do about his transition? he worried, anxiety boring a hole into his heart. He's got, what, two years at most before it hits? I should take him to meet his brother. He ran a hand down his face as he straightened with a sigh. But Rhetribution won't remember me. None of them will.
"So, too busy for Stephanie, huh?" Ace prodded.
Night dropped his head with a grunt, defeated. "I ended it. It didn't feel right to lie."
"Good." Ace hung his coat beside his sire's. "Now, call Cathy. You need to be on point tomorrow."
Cathy was his personal assistant. He'd hired her as the administrative assistant for Survival Tactics, their Alaska-based survival training business. Still, the job had quickly morphed into a catch-all of bookkeeper, errand-runner, appointment-maker... and sustenance. He smiled. He liked Cathy; she was no-nonsense, and he never worried that their romps would turn into anything more than what they were: a fuck and feed.
Granted, Cathy was human, so her blood was less than optimal, but given there weren't any other options, Night wasn't going to complain. He doubted any female of the vampire race would have him anyway. The first time he and Cathy 'fell into bed' as it were, he'd not been able to contain himself. He fed from her as he fucked her, careful not to drain her, as she orgasmed around him, digging in her nails until he bled. Afterward, he'd clouded her mind, but when she simply turned her head, exposing her neck to him, the next time he'd reached for her, he knew it hadn't taken. Some humans simply couldn't be compelled. They'd struck up a friendship then, and Night had been feeding from her about once a month for the better part of two years.
The best part of the relationship was her complete and utter understanding of what he wanted because she wanted the same thing: getting an itch scratched without all the strings attached. He knew hooking up with his employee probably wasn't the wisest of moves, but fuck it. Sometimes literally.
He followed his son's advice, tapping on Cathy's contact shortcut on his home screen as they made their way to the kitchen; making Last Meal together was the second ritual of the day before he went to bed, and Ace got things done. She picked up on the first ring.
"Hey, boss. You need me?" A thrill went through Night that reached all the way to... well, to there. He could not deny his attraction.
He opened the frig and began to hand things to Ace... milk, eggs, bacon... "Yeah. You free tonight?"
She chuckled in his ear, and didn't that just make him curl his toes? "For taxes or for...?"
"Both," he squeaked before clearing his throat. "If you can manage."
"For you? Of course I can."
"Come hungry." He glanced at Ace to catch his eye. "Ace is heading into town and will bring back some steaks. He says he'll cook."
Ace grinned and nodded in agreement as he began to crack eggs into a large bowl.
"Add that chocolate cake he makes to that, and you've got me."
Night grinned. "Done! I'm sure Ace will be happy to bake a cake."
Ace chuckled and winked at him.
Cathy laughed. "Man, you're too easy. You really should try to play hard-to-get sometimes!"
"Hey, a male has needs!"
Her voice dropped, sultry and sex-laden. "And I am so glad that's true."
He adjusted his fly, which had somehow become a bit less roomy. "As am I."
"Good!" she replied, back to everyday cheerful. "Will you be up by six?"
"Come at five and wake me up," he suggested with a low rumble.
She laughed. "Now, that is an excellent idea. See you at five."
Ace elbowed him as he ended the call. "Why don't you just date her?" He handed him the bowl of eggs and the beater. "Why date any others?"
Night began to whisk the yolks into the whites. "Because I don't want to 'date' anyone, and I need to feed, which means I need more than just one human. I don't want to take too much."
Ace was quiet for a moment, laying the slices of bacon in the heating pan. "You know, dad, mahmen has been gone a long time."
The lump in Night's throat formed quickly, and he coughed against the tightness, eyes stinging. "Twenty-two years may seem like a long time to you, Mehnace, but to me? It's like it was yesterday."
A sigh escaped Ace. It was a conversation they repeated on occasion. "It's not good for you to be alone."
Night gave him a wan grin and snaked an arm over his shoulders. "I'm not alone. I have you."
Tsking, Ace playfully pushed his sire away. He opened his mouth to point out, again, that a son wasn't the same as female companionship, but the doorbell cut him off. They paused.
"You expecting anyone?" Night asked him. "Some of your friends?"
"No. You?"
"No." Night ditched the bowl and headed for the front entrance, grabbing the shotgun along the way. They lived so far off the beaten path in the Alaskan wilderness that not even the post office delivered. So, someone gettin' busy with the doorbell? Well, that just raised the hairs on the back of Night's neck.
He didn't bother to hide the gun when he opened the door. When he saw the person standing on his doorstep, he blinked.
Why is Elvis on my porch?