AN: I forgot to say this last chapter, but this is my first fanfiction, so please R&R. Constructive criticism is appreciated and if you are ever confused please let me know. Also, if you are not a fencer, here are a couple terms:

Touch- A point

Parry- A block

Riposte- Hitting someone after you block their attack

Strip- Where you fence

Bout- A match.

~ o O o ~

Disclaimer (I forgot to do this too, whoops!): I am not Richelle Meade, therefore I do not own Vampire Academy.

Chapter II

"Hello, this is your captain speaking. We have landed in Missoula, Montana. Thank you for flying United. It is our pleasure to serve you."

I looked out the window, taking out one earbud. We were back in Montana, thank god. Virginia was nice, but it was nothing compared to home.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of my seat. Alberta was already up and taking our carry-on luggage down. She tossed me my backpack and handed me my small suitcase once I stepped out and I proceeded to exit the plane.

I came out in the terminal and waited for Alberta, Christian, Mason, and Eddie. I saw them soon as they walked quickly out of the gate. I waved them over and they came over to meet me.

"Who's picking us up?" I asked her.

"Ivashkov," she replied.

I grinned. Adrian was coming. I missed him, despite him being drunk half the time I'm around him, the bastard. "Adrian, eh? I've missed the damn bastard."

"Of course you did, Rosie," Christian laughed. "You just want to get into his pants."

"Shut up, Firecrotch," I shot back, glaring.

"Yeah," Eddie wheezed out, "He just wants to get into yours."

I hit him hard on the back of the head.

"Ow," he said, rubbing the spot where I hit it. "That hurt!"

"It's called arm muscle," I deadpanned. "You get it from working out."

We were at baggage drop now and I ran over to the screen. "Flight 371 from Richmond, Virginia is at Baggage Drop D," I told Mason, who went over to get our larger suitcases. I went over to Oversized Luggage and got the four giant fencing bags. I rolled them over and counted the luggage quickly. "That's it, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's all," Eddie replied quickly.

"Good. We've got a drunken bastard to meet," I said dryly, taking my two suitcases, fencing bag, and backpack.

We exited the airport and found Adrian's car. He had a lot of money and wasn't afraid to flaunt it, which is why we found a red Mercedes-Benz waiting for us, the license plate reading "AIVSHKV." I rolled my eyes. My family had plenty of money too, but you didn't see me driving a Mercedes. No, I got a used Toyota Sienna whose license plate read "7JV28R1."

The window rolled down and I laughed when I saw Adrian. He was wearing a pair of large sunglasses and a silky scarf along with a black leather jacket, his hair tousled in that "just had sex" way.

"Ah, if it isn't the four all-stars," he drawled, lowering his shades. I saw his bright emerald green eyes as they flicked over to me. "Your brother sent Mia, Lissa, and I the videos. Congratulations. First place! I'm proud of you, Little Fencer. Real proud."

I smiled and leaned in through the window. "Thanks, Adrian," I said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Aw, Little Fencer. If you wanted some of this," he teased, gesturing to his body, "all you had to do was ask."

"I'll keep that in mind, Adrian." I rolled my eyes. "Where're we putting out bags?"

"I'm only here for you, Eddie, Sparky, and Mason," he said. "Stan's coming to pick up Alberta. She has to go to the club first. She's going to take your stuff."

"Oh," I said, slightly surprised.

"Hey Sparky, Eddie, Mason, Alberta!" Adrian called over my shoulder.

"Hi Adrian!" Christian yelled back. "You gonna screw my sister or not? Cause if you are, then I have a little something to tell you."

"Don't worry about Rose's innocence; I won't be the one to take it," he laughed. "Now get it!"

I pulled my head out of the window and walked over to Alberta, hugging her. "Bye Alberta, thanks for everything," I said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Rose. I'll take your luggage and you can go home with Mr. Ivashkov, Mr. Castile, Mr. Ashford, and of course your brother, Mr. Ozera." My parents had respected my adopted brother's wishes when he was thirteen and wanted to be called by his old last name. Officially, he was Christian Ozera- Mazur but everyone just said Christian Ozera.

I parted ways with Alberta and had the three boys squeeze in the back while I sat up front with Adrian. Eventually, my exhaustion began to take its toll and I drifted off into sleep while we drove home.