Into the Light
Chapter 4
[Teran]

Daryl cursed when he awoke to the ache that had settled deep in his body—the kind of ache that freezes one in place at the slightest movement. His head, arms, shoulders, legs… he felt the bone aching pain everywhere. For the moment, he opted to lie still on his mattress, not wanting to incur any more pain to his weak body.

Wait.

Pain? Weakness? What the hell?

"Good morning, wolf." He snapped his neck to turn to the source of the familiar, yet sarcastic, voice just yards away from where he rested. The dam that held back his memories of the previous night crumbled as the events of last night flooded into his mind. He and his group were ambushed by three Rogues. He managed to have lured two and disposed of them before he collapsed at the familiar ground of the cemetery. But what about the other bloodsucker? What about the group of adolescences he told to return home?

"Shit," he cursed with frustration, then pushed himself off of the blood stained sheets, eager to return to his pack to assess the damage. He might have just ruined his entire pack with his decision to tell the teens to go back home.

"Whoa, hang on. You can't leave here looking like that!" The small blond nightwalker rushed over to him, pausing in front of him as to block his way.

Rogue. He was her prisoner.

Daryl snarled at her, baring his lengthen canines, ready to fight to the death and to avenge his pack. "What did you do with them, Rouge?" he roared, his anger uncontained.

He watched her roll her eyes at him—the nerve of this twit! He leaped at her, his claws itching to slash at her throat with vengeance at the back of his mind.

"For Creator's sake, I am not a Rouge!" she hollered in return, dodging his attacks swiftly.

He cursed under his breath at his slow movements for he was still weak from the previous night. Weakened he may be, but he was not stupid. This nightwalker was there last night. He remembered her scent, her voice… her blood. "You can't fool me, vampyr. You can't blind me with your brainwashing shit. Where are they?!"

"I'm not a vampyr! I told you I'm a dhampir," she bared her fangs at him in return, defiance shining in her eyes.

A sense of déjà vu washed over him. This conversation… they've had it before. He was sure of it. No. Maybe she was trying to ensnare his mind into her hypnotic web. He mustn't fall for it if he were to return to his pack. "I'm gonna ask you one last time, nightwalker. Where is my pack?"

"I don't know! You were alone, bleeding to death. Should I have known you were going to wake up and attack me, I wouldn't have saved your ass with my blood," she hissed back, her eyes flashing red in anger.

"Lies!" He swallowed the sense of uncertainty away. For some reason, in the back of his mind, he knew she spoke the truth. Even then, he can't let her get the upper hand by agreeing with her. Dhampirs… he was unable to even believe the thought of them existing. The spawn of a human and vampyr can wreak havoc in a human city undetected. Without the general flaws of the purebred vampyr, dhampir spawns were difficult opponents to annihilate. "Dhampirs haven't existed for centuries," he argued in response, concealing his curiosity behind the aggressive tone of his voice.

He watched her like a wolf stalking a prey as she relaxed her form stiffly and walked over to the other side of the room. She grabbed the cup of coffee from the short table before sinking into the white couch adjacent to the table and sighed, her body relaxing as she drank the hot dark brew. Her sudden aloofness confounded him. And the fact that she was consuming human food earned her one point towards her argument.

Vampyrs, while they can consume human food, it made them physically ill for moments. Some react so violently, they will be incapacitated with the shakes for nights until recovered.

Daryl retracted his claws and canines, though still guarded; he desperately wanted answers, and a way out. From the quick survey of this concrete abode, he noticed there were no windows. The walls were solid concrete.

"Whether you believe my words or not, I don't care. Do you trust your senses enough to taste the remains of my blood on your lips?" She stared at him with wide, unwavering sky blue eyes as she nursed her coffee.

He frowned at her words. Unintentionally, he licked his lips at the mention of her blood. His body froze as more images of last night flooded into his consciousness. She had pulled him into her home, fed him her blood—an arcane's most treasured asset, and he… they… "Shit," he muttered. In his blood lust, he took more than her blood; he took her body as well.

Aside from the fact that she was willing to rut with him, the most disturbing fact was that she was telling the truth. Her blood held human qualities, mingling with the arcane magic of vampyr blood. This blond nightwalker is truly half human. The weight of the realization crushed him like a ton of bricks, his knees gave out under him and he crumbled onto the ground.

He would never knowingly show anyone any signs of weakness; however this news stole the sturdiness of the ground from under him. As tales go, the last dhampir to have been born and murdered was three hundred years ago. How was it that this one has evaded her untimely death? "Who kept you alive?"

"My sire… my clan… and myself when I left," she replied. He was unable to detect any lies in her voice.

"Why would you leave your clan?" From all his lessons that his elders taught him of the arcanes, vampyr clans defended each other fiercely. Dhampirs, though rare, were hunted and slaughtered by all the races, and often by other vampyr clans. Why would this one venture unprotected?

She turned to face him; her beautiful large eyes pierced into his soul and stirred his loins. "Because they try to kill me. That is why I built my home here," she gestured to the concrete walls around her.

He studied her, and to a degree, he pitied her. In essence, she is still a Rouge for being clanless, however she didn't appear to be the kind that killed relentlessly. Or else she would've never tried to save him.

"Now," she drew him out of his thoughts. "Where did you get attacked? Vampyr usually don't roam around here."

Daryl cursed when she brought back how dire his situation was. Wasting no time to talk, he scouted the walls for an exit despite her protests. "Where is the exit?" he all but growled at her.

"You can't leave just yet," she warned, her voice stern.

He scoffed at her, "Are you going to try and stop me?" He was ready to dispatch her earlier and he was willing to do it now if it meant he could stop wasting his time and secure the safety of his pack.

"Nope but if you want to run into humans butt-naked, be my guest," she laughed humorously and took a sip of coffee.

Daryl paled at the sight of his body when he glanced down. Sure enough, he was bare to the world except for the blood stained bandages that were wrapped at various parts of his body.

"Here. I thought you would need these," a large paper shopping bag popped into his vision, he didn't realize she had moved from her seat on the pristine white couch. He glared at her through narrowed eyes as he begrudgingly accepted the bag from her hand.

He donned on the shoes, the simple white crew neck t-shirt and blue jeans as swiftly as he could, eager to leave this peculiar abode and the presence of the half human behind. "Thanks," he managed to ground out through clenched teeth. "Exit?"

She looked up from scratching the black cat perched on the edge of the kitchen counter and stilled when her eyes landed on him. Even from the distance apart, he could smell the arousal building within her as her eyes drank their fill of him. His cock twitched in the confines of his jeans at the spicy scent. He could recall the way her willowy frame and her curved hips that melded perfectly with the hard planes of his body. In his blood lust, he tasted and rutted with her. Though he assumed it was but last night, he was not satiated. In fact, it left him yearning for more, and he wanted more—now.

With a dominating rumble from deep within his chest, he took a step towards her, eager to satisfy his need and to finally end the strange attraction he had of her.

Though as if a trance was broken, she stiffened from where she stood when she noticed him striding towards her. In a blink of an eye, she ran across the large space and pressed her palm on the touchpad against the concrete wall. A beep sounded, and a portion of the concrete wall shifted and receded to reveal a wooden door.

"The exit," she whispered, as if breathless.

Daryl stilled his advancement at her sudden change of attitude. From what he could remember, she enjoyed his touch, no matter how sudden or rushed it was.

"Your pack needs you, remember?"

He cursed again, and he scowled at her. She was a distraction. A damn distraction so fucking strong that the mere scent of her arousal made him forget about his pack. Damn her. Damn himself. With a stiff nod, he crossed the distance of the room and brushed past her and through the wooden door. His sensitive nose was greeted with the stale, murkiness of the tunnels within the crypt.

"Here, follow me," she slipped by him and began to lead the way.

Despite all his might to focus every attention into formulating a plan to save his pack if there were Rouges in his home failed. His eyes darted to the smooth, lush backside of the blond dhampir, the taste of her blood still fresh on his tongue. Fuck. She was going to plague his thoughts for longer than he would ever anticipate, he thought grimly.

Half way through the tunnels, he felt his strength waning which forced him to focus on keeping his legs moving, which was a welcome distraction from the distraction in front of him. By the time they reached the entrance of the burial crypt to the outside world, he saw concern etched in her face.

"How far away is your den?" She questioned, hesitating.

Daryl grunted and casted her a wary glare and then pushed the heavy door open to the outside world. White sunlight blinded his vision momentarily, rendering one of his most sensitive senses weak. His hand lifted his hand into the sky in a futile attempt to shield his sensitive eyes from the sudden invasion of the light. His knees buckled as a wave of nausea washed over him, drowning him amidst the green field of the cemetery.

She ran to his side in an instant, scowling. "You haven't fully recovered yet. Tell me where your den is and I'll take you there," she said, slipping her hands under his left arm to help him up.

He growled and pushed against her touch, "I don't need your help. I ain't going to trust you."

He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him—almost, if it weren't for his vision still trying to adjust to the blinding sunlight.

"Listen here wolf. You don't have to trust me. I sensed three different scents on you last night, and if you're worrying if some of them chased a group of your pack back to your den, you're in no shape to help them. In fact, you may even put them in danger if you don't get help."

Daryl considered the weight of her words against his instinct to ignore her and shift to his wolf and run back to the den. Better judgement wise, she was right—but alpha males hate being told what to do. It ate at his pride knowing that a mere half human can strategically plan a better rescue than him… at least for the moment. He blamed his momentarily lapse of judgement from last night's ambush with the Rogues.

"I have my truck in the parking lot. It'll get you there faster than you shifting and passing out in the middle of nowhere for humans to catch you," she continued to reason with him, her voice almost pleading for him to come to his senses.

"How can I trust you? How will I know you won't turn around and drain my pack and burn our den to the ground?" He hissed, his eyes finally adjusted to the light, as he stared at her through narrowed eyes. He saw her face fall into a stoic, icy glare before gracing him with a small and solemn smile.

"You can't trust me. You can't trust anyone. But as of right now, I'm the best thing you've got to an ally. If I truly wanted you dead, I would've never helped you. I'm offering you my help, whether you accept it or not, I won't lose any sleep over it," she replied firmly, and proceeded to secure the mausoleum's door tightly for the preparation of her absence. "So come on, my truck's this way."

She left him standing there in front of her buried abode alone as she hurried to the cemetery's gate. With a defeated hiss, Daryl jogged after her and followed her into front passenger seat of her truck.

Truly, despite wanting to be as far away from her as possible, he knew she was right. He despised every bit of the thought, but he needed her help right now. He wasn't going to trust her so easily. Not since she is partly vampyr.

"I'll say this once. I'll lead you to my land, but so help you God if you so look at my pack the wrong way, I'm going to rip you limb from limb," he all but snarled at her from his seat.

She rolled her eyes at him again—those damn sky blue eyes. "Yes sir," she answered with a mocked tone of terror in her voice. "Buckle up then," she motioned to his unlatched seatbelt.

Not daring to waste any more time than that he had already by arguing, he obeyed her command and revealed the precious directions to his private lands as she drove away from the safety of the cemetery.

-0-

"Carol!" He bellowed as he opened the truck's passenger side door and leaped out of the truck before the blond nightwalker could put the vehicle in park. He spotted the human form of his alpha female pacing in circles in front of the main house with a grim expression on her face.

"Daryl!" she cried with relief and rushed over to him, pulling him into an embrace. "Rob and Spices told us what happened last night. We didn't know where you were!" Slowly, the others of the pack filed out of the main house with tears on their faces.

"Rob and Spices? What about Teran?" A foreboding sensation washed over him at the worried frown on her face. When she hesitated to reply, he questioned her again. "Carol, where is Teran?"

"He lured the last Rogue away from Rob and Spices… we haven't heard from him since they split up. We searched all night for him; his trail goes cold by the eastern mountains. I—I can't risk the others by letting them search those caves! I can't lose him, Daryl… I can't lose another of my own…"

Daryl wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed a comforting kiss on her forehead. "Shh… I'll find your son, Carol. I'll get him. Take care of the pack while I'm gone."

It was then he noticed his pack snarling at the blond, apprehension and fear apparent in their scents. The blond was unfazed, a small, yearning smile graced lips as she lifted her hands in truce.

"I'm here to help, no harm meant," she said in a soft voice.

"Leave here, bloodsucker. Your kind isn't welcomed here!" One of the snarled, the others yipped in agreement.

He couldn't agree more. He nodded at her in silent gratitude, but his words were harsh. "You best be on your way."

He saw her irises darken and rimmed red with anger before it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Her lips thinned into a straight line and she straightened her back.

"Fine. As you wish," she mockingly bowed at him and stomped back into her white truck before tearing down the path that led away from his den.

"Who is she?" Carol placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Daryl shrugged and shook his head at the retreating vehicle. "It doesn't matter. We won't be seeing her again. Guard the perimeter here Carol. Jack and Genna, come with me. We're going to find Teran."

-0-

"Stupid wolf! Stupid… stupid… DOG!" She yelled into the windshield of her truck as she gripped her steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles turned white. Beth was angry—fuming to be exact. After all she had helped him with; he went and dismissed her like she was a servant to him!

"AGH!" She snarled, her fangs glistened under the sunlight. She shouldn't have saved him. She shouldn't have given him her blood and offered to drive him to his land. She should've just let him leave her abode butt-ass naked and faint in the middle of nowhere. She should've never gotten tangled with him what-so-ever. "Just you wait, you overgrown, hairy dog. The next time I see you, I'm going to show you n— ahh!"

Beth shrieked as a humanoid figure jumped in front of her truck, forcing her to stomp on her brakes with such a great force it locked into place. For the split second before impact, she prayed she had stopped in time. No such luck. The metal guards of her truck collided with the figure and it slammed into her windshield, cracking the glass and obscuring the visibility in front of her.

"My God!" she gasped and leaped out of her truck to help the poor individual she hit. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!" She extended her hand to the figure as it let out a groan of pain and shifted on top of her truck's hood. "Here, I'll help you get down. Hold on, I'll call an ambulance for you!"

"No!" the person hissed. Male—shifter. "Get out of here! It's not safe!"

Before she could register his words, a force knocked her into the ground in front of her, the air rushed out of her lungs at the impact. What the hell? She swiftly recovered from the sudden attack and leaped onto her feet to face her attacker.

Attackers, would be the correct term. Two figures, heavily cloaked in a hooded cape greeted her. Vampyr. Rogues.

Her vision changed into that of a purebred's and willed her nails to lengthen, in anticipation of a dangerous fight. "You're trespassing, leave now," she commanded.

The two figures laughed, one lifted its head to reveal fully red glowing eyes. "You are helping a shifter, little one… where is your clan?" It teased.

Beth snarled, "I have no clan. I answer to no one."

"Then you are one of us… join us, little one. This wolf will make a delicious snack for what is to come," the other spoke, its voice raked against her sensitive hearing.

"I will never join the likes of you, filthy beasts!" she spat with much venom and distain as she could.

"Then perish!" The two cloaked figures snarled in unison and hurdled towards her with black tipped nails the length and sharpness of daggers.

She dodged their attacks just by a hair's length. These were no ordinary vampyr. They were much to efficient and coordinated in their attacks for her believe it was just a random Rogue attack. For once in a very long time, Beth feared for her life.

The young male-shifter, she presumed to be Teran, the one called Daryl was looking for had recovered somewhat and came to her aide, shifting into a large, formidable wolf. How honorable if we weren't about to be slaughtered, Beth thought grimly. Teran gained the attention of one of her attackers, in efforts to even the fight.

Beth was holding her own despite the weakened state she was in for sharing her blood with Daryl. She hadn't recovered to the point where she was her swiftest and strongest. At this point, Beth managed to dodge the Rouge's attacks but refrained from attacking. A good defense can be a strategic offense. To her left, just yards away, Teran belted out a mighty howl—possibly to summon his pack to this location. She hopes they would arrive soon.

Formidable she may be, she was a mere cub against these older vampyr. They probably had centuries of martial power behind them—maybe dating back to the first Great War. The emblems on their cloaks boasted a powerful clan, the Emiries, however the emblem itself was slashed diagonally, a sign that the wearer rejected their clan.

A sudden yelp of pain from the young wolf caught her attention. His attacker gripped him by the wolf's throat, suspending the animal several feet off the forest floor. The hood of his attacker was pushed back, revealing a taunt, grey face with black-blue veins running through the surface of its skin. Its skin sizzled and cracked under the sunlight as it pulled back its upper lip; revealing black fangs dripping with vampyr venom.

The young male would never survive the venom. The sudden face of Carol, the one Daryl called out to, flashed in her eyes before she raced to aid the wolf. She remembered her saying she couldn't lose another. She knew the alpha wolf's pack was suffering from some sort of pain—was it due to the Rogues' attacks? Before she could think of much else, Beth slashed at the exposed wrist of the Rouge and slammed into its body with all the strength she could muster.

"Run!" She commanded the young wolf.

"Bitch!" she heard her first attacker snarl from behind. She landed on her stomach; the twigs and sharpness of fallen branches pierced through her clothing and scratched her skin. A weight on her back prevented her from escaping the inevitable. The younger wolf was nowhere in sight.

The one that had pursued her pinned her firmly on the forest ground. She could smell the rancid breath of the first Rouge as it shoved her head to the side to the point where she feared her head would snap off of her neck.

"Damn you to hell," she cursed at them, the Rogue she knocked off its feet stood in front of her, just inches away from her head.

"No, little one… we are bringing Hell to Earth," the one atop of her sneered before sinking its black, venom laced fangs deep into her neck.

Beth screeched at the flesh-ripping pain, frozen in place and unable to do much else.

Just as quickly as it sank its fangs in her, it retracted, shock apparent in its voice as it addressed the one standing near her head. "Brother… this one is… unique."

"Oh?" He mused, tapping his black nails against each other.

"Yes," the one above her could barely contain its excitement. "Dhampir blood… of the Eviantius Clan."

"I belong to no clan," Beth spat as struggled against the weight on her back. She began to truly fear for her fate now. Her sire's clan was… they have many enemies.

"Dhampir?" He asked before crackling in sheer glee. "What a rare treat it is, Sister. Her blood will aide us for the battle to come… and you little one. I will deliver your drained corpse to your sire whether you believe you belong to them or not!"

"Let us feast, Brother!" The female Rouge above her snarled, and sank her venom laced teeth into her neck once more.

Beth's mouth screamed a silent cry, unable to use her voice as the pain overtook her body. She jerked a second time as the male Rogue bit deep into her shoulder.

Rapidly and agonizingly, she felt the sibling Rogues drain her life blood from her body. Beth feared that this is her last fight. She feared, this is her undoing. She feared, this day will be the last time she could step into the light and bask in the sun's warm rays.

She lived in seclusion all her life, made friends with little and helped others even less. The one time she truly believed she did the right thing in aiding the young wolf, little could she have predicted, she would be paying the ultimate price for goodness.

Her life.

/

J.R. - Long chapter! Don't die Beth!

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