A/N: I may be indulging in a wee smidge of hyperbolic melodrama when I say that this chapter was very nearly the death of me and/or my keyboard. Never have I had such a persnickety experience with stubborn characters and derailed plot lines. I was mildly terrified at the visions of torches and pitchforks, should I not pony up the goods, after that last cliffhanger. *shakes in boots*

I jest. Y'all rock my socks clean off. Just don't hit me. At least, not in the face. Er, not more than twice. Why? Oh. Um. No reason. *whistles*

Eric POV

My maker was currently being held by a bunch of fucking asshat humans. I had to kowtow to a Sheriff who couldn't keep his Area straight. Said Sheriff sent me off with his second to go on a fucking sightseeing tour, but not before both of them made multiple half-assed attempts to separate me from my lover.

I had just managed to scrape off the barnacle that was Isabelle, and was in the process of getting some actually useful information from Sookie when everything really started to go to hell. Because shit just wasn't weird enough.

Sookie had been able to tell me that there were eighteen humans here in total, and then she completely blacked out. The moment she started to fall from my back, I was able to catch her before she hit the ground. I gently pulled her around my body, cradling her in my arms. She still breathed. Her heartbeat was at its normal resting pace. What the fuck?

Suddenly, there was a commotion on the church grounds. All of the perimeter guards started running to the front of the building. Was this Sookie's doing? Had she lost consciousness from over-exerting her mental abilities? It couldn't be; I would have felt it if she'd used that widespread an influence. I ducked down and crouched further into the shadows; I wanted nothing more than to charge in, but in her current state, I could neither leave Sookie here nor take her with me.

Fuck. I was missing the perfect opportunity. All of the humans were now out of sight. I did not want to have to make this decision.

Before I could move, I saw a door open on the side of the building. It had opened to the outside, like any other fire door. Whoever had opened it was standing behind the door: I could not see them.

The door swung shut; there was no one there. I smiled.

A voice came from behind me. I was expecting him; he always had been exceptionally fast, even for a vampire. It was almost like teleporting, if the distance was short enough. Even I was unable to visually track him when he moved that quickly.

"Vad är hon?"

I grimaced. Really? In the midst of all this shit, his first words to me were to ask me what Sookie was? No Hey there, child of mine, long time no see. How's it hangin'? No explanation of what the bloody, screaming fuck was going on here?

I turned around and gave him a pained look. "Godric…"

And there came Isabelle. "Godric!" she hissed.

I scowled at her; have some fucking respect for your elders, bitch.

Godric raised an eyebrow at the barnacle and she at least knew enough to not speak further.

"Return to Stan," he ordered her. "Inform him that I am well. I will not be returning to the nest. If I have a message for him, I will send it through Eric."

Politically, she would normally hold a higher standing than my maker. It was an unusual situation: at over two thousand years old, he was the oldest vampire on this continent, and as such the rules didn't exactly apply to him. Since he held no political position at all, his extreme age placed him higher in our hierarchies than this impudent whelp. Isabelle was obliged to follow his orders.

She looked at me. "I will run back to the nest. Stan will be in contact with you for a full report. Do not leave our Area without speaking to him."

With that, she sped off. Godric walked further into the woods, beckoning for me to follow. He stopped in a small clearing and turned to me.

"Your friend is starting to wake."

I looked down at Sookie; her eyelids were fluttering, and I couldn't fucking wait to see those blue eyes looking up at me.

"Lover," I murmured, kissing her forehead. "Come back to me."

There they were; I could stare into those eyes all night.

"Eric, we have to…" Sookie froze, mid-sentence, and turned her head to stare at Godric.

"That… was you, wasn't it?"

I watched as the two of them locked gazes. After a few seconds, Sookie looked startled, then confused. Though I hid it, she looked how I felt.

There were two possible explanations for had just happened. The first was that my maker had projected a massive glamour, and that had knocked Sookie out; she may be immune to glamour, but she can still feel it. A glamour powerful enough to affect a crowd, without the necessity of proximity or eye contact, was so rare as to be unheard of. In truth, it was not outside the realm of possibility, especially with a vampire as old as Godric.

The other possibility was that my maker and my lover were able to communicate telepathically. He would have sensed my presence, as I was his child; might he have sensed her when she scanned the building? All vampires have gifts, and sometimes they pass down from maker to progeny. So far, I was the only vampire who seemed to be able to feel it whenever Sookie attempted to project her influences. I could even sense it when she was trying to read my mind, if she tried hard enough. Was my ability to feel Sookie's abilities something he had passed down to me?

"It was my doing," Godric finally admitted. "I am sorry if it was a bit much."

So it had been him, but in what capacity? Communication, mass glamour, or perhaps both?

From the look on Godric's face, he wasn't expecting this any more than the rest of us, but he seemed to be handling it best. Apparently the theme of everyone's night was a great big What The Fuck. So glad it wasn't just me.

There would come a time for answers and clarifications, but that time was not now. We needed to move. I'd never run from a fight, but I would not involve Sookie in an all-out war; if we were discovered, that was exactly what this situation would become. At the very least, I needed to get her somewhere safe and secure. I estimated that we had perhaps three hours until dawn, and there was still much to be done.

Still locking gazes with Sookie, Godric asked me, "Hon är en del älva?"

"Hon vet inte."

Godric raised an eyebrow at me. "Men du vet."

"Ja." Of course I knew.

Sookie scowled up at me. I know she didn't know what we were saying, but she always seemed to know when Pam and I were talking about in this fashion. I didn't like asking her to act like a pet, and it must have been uncomfortable for her; but after the shit we've been through tonight, she could fucking cope with a little Swedish.

"Eric, put me down please?"

"No," I said as I started walking through the woods. "Godric, the car is this way. How did you escape?"

He was walking by my side; he grinned playfully up at me. "I opened the door and walked out. Come. We will discuss this elsewhere."

Sookie POV

Eric used his super-speedy vampire tricks to get us back to the car in a matter of seconds. It was incredibly disorienting. I guessed Godric would have beaten us there if he'd known where we were going.

Eric gently set me on my own two feet once we were next to the car, so that he could unlock the doors. He helped me in, and oddly enough, Godric got into the back seat with me. It made me feel like Eric was our chauffeur, and picturing him in a driver's uniform – cap and all – sent me into a fit of giggles.

I knew it was my body's way of releasing nervous energy. In one night we had not only found out that Eric's maker had gone missing, we'd traveled almost 200 miles to rescue him. So far, the rescue was going off without a hitch. It felt like it was too easy, and part of my nervousness was waiting for that other shoe to drop.

Eric was in such a hurry to get going that he hadn't waited for me to buckle my seatbelt; I was in no state to take care of it myself. Godric must have been just as confused as Eric as to why I was snickering like a mad woman, but he only smiled gently at me. That's right: humor the crazy human. He leaned over and snapped the belt into place for me.

His close proximity made me stop laughing. There was a strange sort of aura about him, a sense of otherworldliness that didn't seem to come from his vampire nature. It was almost impossible to not have a feeling of awe at his presence.

He and I had engaged in our own bizarre Mexican standoff earlier, but I hadn't taken that time to really look at him. He appeared to have been turned somewhere in his late teens. I'd pegged him as roughly my height, even though we hadn't yet stood next to or in front of each other. He had the broad, muscular shoulders of a fully grown man; since vampire bodies don't really change so much after their turning, he must have had a human life that required heavy labor or frequent exercise. For all I knew, that could be anything from a farmer to a warrior. Or hell, maybe both, depending on the era and location.

Aside from the pale skin (and the glow that humans didn't seem to notice), Godric didn't look like a vampire. He certainly wasn't dressed like one, at least not like the ones I spent most of my time with: simple, off-white linen pants and a light-colored tunic. His hair was short, like an overgrown buzz cut, and matched his golden-brown eyes. He was stunning.

I realized I was staring, so I mumbled an apology for being so rude as I rediscovered the fascination of my nail polish. Oh, look: it's starting to chip away, must be time for a new manicure.

Godric merely chuckled. That almost made it worse; although my thoughts hadn't been sexual in nature, it felt as if I'd just ogled a statue of Buddha.

Eric unnecessarily cleared his throat and looked at Godric in his rear view mirror.

"How were they able to capture you?" he asked.

"They would have taken one of us sooner or later," Godric calmly stated. "I offered myself."

"What? Why?" There was a note of panic in Eric's voice. My own stomach was lurching at my suspicions.

"I wanted to speak with them. I thought I could fix everything, somehow." The resignation in his voice was really starting to make me feel sick.

"But Godric," I interjected, "They wanted you to meet the sun!"

"That they did," he admitted. "I had no intentions of doing so. They would not have spoken with me if they did not believe they had some power over me."

Eric sighed. "It has been a long evening. If you have no objections, Godric, we will return to the hotel and rest there for the day. There isn't enough time for this conversation."

"I have no objections," came the soft reply. Godric then turned to me and cupped my chin with his hand. He looked into my eyes and said, "Sleep."

Whether suggestion or glamour, that was all I needed. I was out like a light.

We were in the Fellowship building, the inside of which was hypocritically decorated to resemble a house of God. A crazed man stood in front of the altar, shouting for his followers to strike us down. We were surrounded by dozens of humans bearing wooden stakes and heavy silver chains. I was hiding behind Eric and Godric; the former crouched for battle, the latter calmly awaiting his fate.

I watched in slow-motion horror as a wooden arrow came whirring through the air, striking my fierce lover directly through his heart. His body started disintegrating before it could fully hit the floor.

"NO!" My own voice was barely recognizable.

Godric turned to me, an apology burning in his ancient eyes. I couldn't bear to look, couldn't bear to see his own loss that no doubt out-shadowed my own. I flung myself into his arms, sobbing against his shoulder. Anywhere but here, anything but this.

Seconds later, I heard another whirring sound; Godric's body started to slip through my arms, flaking through my fingers. In pain and terror, I looked down to see that the arrow had gone completely through him, lodging itself in my own chest.

I bolted up, wide-awake and screaming. I clutched my chest and for a brief moment was expecting to find an arrow embedded there. My heart ached with pounding; my lungs couldn't get enough air. All around me was dark, but I could feel the softness of a bed under me. As the sleep and fear cleared from my eyes, the soft glow of a clock drew my attention: it was almost noon.

I reached to my side and felt a cool body at rest. Safe. We were safe. In relief, I lay back down, curled up around my lover, and wrapped my arm around his waist. His waist, which was covered in soft linen. That didn't seem right; Eric never wore clothes to bed if he could help it. I traced a hand up his torso to touch his face. Further up, to run my hands through the hair that wasn't nearly as long as it should have been.

Embarrassment turned to panic as I groped around the bed and discovered that Eric wasn't there. It was just me and Godric.

"Vad är hon?" – What is she?

"Hon är en del älva?" – She is a fairy?

"Hon vet inte." – She does not know.

"Men du vet." – But you know.

"Ja." – Yes.

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them, I just like to play with them a bit.