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The old Stefan would have never taken someone like Savannah Brandon.

She was not his usual type of prey, too young and pretty and noticeable. The old Stefan had looked for people who would not be missed. Homeless people or runaways. People that needed his help in some way or another, whether they realized it or not.

Mercy would not like this girl he had chosen.

He flexed his knuckles on the steering wheel of the rental car, closing his eyes briefly. Long enough to feel the pain slice through him again. It haunted him, more than anything else in his life. No, not life. Existence.

He still felt the ripping pain of his people as they suffered. Marsilia had ripped them from him, made it feel as if they were dying to punish him for crimes she had pretended to blame him for. Most of his people had perished, and Stefan could not find it in him to forgive his Mistress of her crimes against him. She had played him, all for very good reasons he was sure, but still her cruelty had harmed him more than she intended.

And…there was Mercy to consider.

She was bound to him by blood, by choice. It would not give Marsilia the wolf pack, but Mercy was more valuable than any of the wolves. Stefan would not give her Mercy. Even if it meant that he was estranged from the Seethe for the rest of his…existence.

Stefan turned his attention back to the roadway, Warren, one of Adam's wolves pretending to sleep in the passenger seat with his hat over his face. It was the irregular breathing and his posture that made Stefan sure he was awake.

Savannah was asleep across the backseat, wrapped in a blanket with a travel pillow tucked under her head. He'd brought her things, sparse as they were, from the hotel room she'd been in. She would appreciate the thought later.

Perhaps she was more alone than she looked. Her journal had given him some indication of her situation, dead grandmother and all. And for some reason, her thoughts were a bit like Mercy's. He could hear particularly strong ones without much effort on his part. He was no mind reader…that was not his talent.

"Having second thoughts?" Warren's voice rumbled from under the hat.

"No." He answered curtly, never taking his eyes off the road. Portland was just far enough that his little hunting trip would not bring any unwanted attention to the Seethe. Funny, that he would protect her after all that she had done to him.

Warren gave a little hrmph under his breath. He'd asked him the question only one other time, when he'd brought Liam back on the first trip. Stefan collected his people slowly…until tonight. Liam was in his fifties, living under an underpass with a grocery cart and a dog. It was a mercy taking him. He would be cared for, and give care in return. And Stefan would permit him the dog, giving Ford clear instruction that the eight pound Chihuahua was not prey.

Warren knew how necessary all of this was, but that didn't mean he had to condone it. It probably would have surprised Stefan if he had.

Adam, of all people, had been the one to come to him and practically command a hunting trip. The old Stefan would have smiled about the idea, but it (and Mercy's anger at seeing his people) had awakened him again.

He was not as he was, but he could not watch his people continue to suffer for his lack of protection.

He had spread them too thin, and was just starting to realize the consequences. He'd come close to losing Rachel between himself and Ford.

He was determined not to lose anyone else. In honor of Naomi, Josephine and all the others taken from him.

A/N: Short chapter, but a necessary one I think. I don't think I'll play too much in Stefan's POV of things…because he's rather depressing. I LOVE YOU STEFFY, YOU WILL BE OKAY, OKAY?

Get ready for some heat in the next chapter or so. Savvy's been playing nice so far, but she's not as docile as she seems. Southern girls just have something about them.

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DISCLAIMER: I do not in any way claim to be Patricia Briggs. All of the characters mentioned from Mercyverse belong strictly to her. Mine to me, yours to you.