Chapter 14: Meeting Thatcher
Meredith pauses as they step onto the damp tarmac at the Seattle airport, having been whisked there by a limo that Derek summoned. Cool moist air lifts the strands of her hair, the smell of the ocean tantalizing her. Dressed in a white wool sweater with a cowl neck, slim black jeans tucked into supple leather boots, she looks fresh and young. She feels energized and ready to take on whatever is going to happen next.
Derek takes her hand with a smile, warming her instantly. "Shall we?" he asks, nodding at the waiting jet. His hair is rakishly tousled, his jaw darkly stubbled at this late hour. Meredith feels her pulse quicken at his dangerous appeal all over sleek little plane is glistening with drops of rain, the pilot waiting for them at the top of the stairs.
"I'm ready," Meredith says quietly. The driver takes her lone bag from the trunk of the car and hurries up the stairs ahead of them. After everything that happened that evening, Meredith had little time to waste, and hurried home to pack what she could. Stuffing pictures, and mementos, along with what she thought she might need into the bag and dressing quickly as Derek paced back and forth along the windows. He wouldn't feel safe until they were in the air, wondering when Michelangelo would strike again. He had dressed just hurriedly, pulling on a black cashmere turtleneck, black jeans and his favorite leather jacket. The rest of his clothes can be sent over later, along with anything that Meredith has missed.
As they greet the pilot, Meredith takes one last look over her shoulder. Would she ever see this again?
"Sometimes you will," Derek whispers to her knowingly, kissing her temple.
"Welcome, Mr. Shepherd, Miss Grey," the pilot says, with a grin.
"Sorry for the delay, Hunter," Derek states, nodding at the other man. "We had some unavoidable problems tonight."
"No worries. We will be leaving right away, landing after daybreak in London, but they will be prepared for you as always, sir."
Meredith wonders if he is a vampire as well, or just knows all about them. Derek winks at her, taking her hand and leading her into the inside of the plane. The seats are plush and vastly different from anything she has encountered in a plane before. She peers out the window as the plane begins to prepare to take off.
"So, why aren't we flying on a normal plane?" Meredith asks, trying to keep her mind on other things. The plane itself is more relaxing than any commercial flight she's been on, that's certain. It's soothing interior, comfy seats and ambiance is relaxing. Soft lights glow warmly, and there is a couch along one wall of windows, and even a low bowl of fresh cut flowers on an inlaid mosaic table. She can see a well-stocked bar, and a small fridge, tucked in the corner. For a vampire who can't eat, or drink, Thatcher has spared no expense in making this jet as comfortable for mortals as he can.
"For one thing, it's dangerous – too far - and for another, with daylight approaching, you wouldn't want me to turn into tinder when we land." Derek arches one eyebrow at her.
"Never..." she agrees with a smile. "Is the pilot...?"
"No, but he is aware of what Thatcher is, as well as myself, and others that use this jet from time to time. He is paid well to keep his secrets – he's worked for your father for many years now."
"So we're safe, no Renegades smuggled on board?"
"Hunter is very reliable, and there are no flight attendants, so nobody can be compromised," Derek assures her soothingly. Though he will be happy as soon as they are in the air.
"Oh!" Meredith puts her hand to her mouth. "That reminds me...Izzie...will she be okay? I've forgotten all about her with everything else that happened." She chides herself for letting that slip, that one of her friends had been used to harm her, after she thought it wasn't possible.
Derek thinks of how the woman had looked on the stretcher, pale, nearly bled dry. "Quite honestly, Meredith...I don't know. We can contact Richard when we land in London, if you wish, but it did not look promising when I saw her."
Meredith shivers and feels a quick sting of tears. "Why her? She would never harm me, or anyone. She has a good heart, it's just not fair, Derek..."
"I know, love, sometimes it isn't fair," Derek murmurs. He rubs the little tear away with the pad of his thumb. "She was just the one most easily manipulated, I'm afraid. It's likely her downfall, that she trusted whichever minion of Michelangelo that tricked her into letting him take her blood. They are callous killers, Meredith, and the sooner we can eradicate all of them, the better this world will be. Your Father will need our help even more now, that you are out of hiding. I'm sorry your friend was used the way she was, Meredith."
"So am I..."
As the plane gains altitude, she turns to take a last look out the window, watching the lights of Seattle fade away, the clouds breaking up just as they are pulling away. The twinkling lights gradually fade away into the darkness. Derek pulls her closer, taking her hands in his. "You're safe now," he whispers along her temple. "Do you want a drink, something to calm your nerves?" He can feel her heart fluttering, her pulse speeding a little, with his own answering in time.
She shakes her head. "Just hold me for now, Derek." Lifting her head, she meets his eyes, comforted by his calm presence. She brushes her lips against his, soft and sweet, letting him take away her worries, lost in the sensation of his kiss. Dark sensuality flows between them, in the knowledge they share their blood now. With a low growl, he pulls her across his lap, and her hand finds his, fitting her small palm against his, their fingers lacing. She sighs as he cups her closer, feeling his desire for her growing.
"Meredith, you are well aware that just holding you is too tempting..." he murmurs, finally letting her lips go, and licking a trail along her throat. Feeling the pulse beneath his tongue, so tantalizing, so warm. "We seem to ignite something that can't be stopped, you and I."
"I know...I guess it's meant to be..." she agrees, somewhat breathlessly. Scattered images of their bodies entwined, and the heat of their passion, are dancing in her thoughts. Realizing that Derek is sharing those images with her makes her blush a little.
"You're very adorable when you do that." His voice is filled with promise. What else would you like to do with me?
Meredith meets his eyes, sensing the thoughts again. She concentrates on what she would like to do, to kiss her way down his firm body, to tease the length of his cock with her tongue, to make him ache for more. Of gliding with him in a haze of warmth, as warm water cascades around them.
Derek's breath hisses, as he closes his eyes, almost feeling the erotic delight of her mouth on him. Of thrusting against her, feeling her small teeth grazing him as he moves faster. Naughty girl...
His eyes snap open, and she gives him a saucy little smile. "I think you liked that."
"In more ways than you know..." His voice is rough and dark. "You continue to surprise me, love..."
"Did you think you would love again, after Kiera?" Meredith's thoughts veer to their shared memories, the dreams that puzzled her that seemed so real.
"I didn't think I would ever find anyone, but then I saw you, and you are everything I need, love. There have been many women, over the years, I confess. But none of them meant anything to me, none of them stirred my soul, or captured my heart. I thought I would be alone forever."
"Do you believe I am part of your past?"
"There are more things possible than we are aware of, I'm sure." He traces her cheek with his fingertip. "But you should sleep now, Meredith. It's a long flight, and you've had a traumatic night already." He kisses her again, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, the lavender essence that is only Meredith. "I love you."
"I love you, Derek. Whatever else happens, whatever my father will say about our being bonded..." Meredith whispers, "you are my only love."
Derek rises to his feet lightly, carrying her over to the sofa, letting her down carefully. He pulls the soft cashmere throw from the back of it, covering her gently. She snuggles into the pillow, cradling her head in her arm. "Will you sleep?" A little yawn escapes her, as she looks up at him. He looks dark and sinful, in the small confines of the plane, his dark eyes full of desire.
"No, likely not. I'll wake you when we're close to landing. Sleep well." He kisses her again, sliding his fingertips over her eyelids, and she falls into an instant, deep sleep. Derek takes his place in the chair, lacing his hands across his abdomen, and watches her sleep. His thoughts filled with images of her smiling face, and the sensual surprise of her love for him. It feels right to be in love with her, like coming home again after a long absence. And he will do all in his power to keep her safe.
Meredith stirs, as Derek kisses her forehead. She can feel the plane taxiing to a stop, and she sits up to peek out the window, anxious for a first glimpse of London. It's early, the sun hidden behind fog, and a light mist hangs in the air. She can see a long, silver Mercedes limo idling on the tarmac for them, with a driver ready and waiting outside. "Will my father be here as well?" she asks, turning to Derek.
I'm not sure, perhaps. He didn't give me any indication, but then, he usually plays things close to the chest." Derek stretches, feeling his muscles cramped from the long flight. He pulls her closer, kissing her temple. "You'll be fine with him, trust me." He reads her fears, her pulse beating faster as the plane stops.
Hunter appears to open the door for them, as the ground crew hurries to bring over the stairs, allowing the chauffeur to head up to greet them. He carries a long, black cloak with a hood for Derek, to keep the sun from harming him. Derek swings it over his shoulders, draping the hood over his head, before taking Meredith's hand. "Let's go," he says with a grin, letting the driver head down before them with Meredith's bag. They are at the limo so quickly; she barely has time to register any of the surroundings.
"Welcome home, Mr. Shepherd," the driver murmurs, opening the car door and whisking them inside. "And Miss Grey, welcome to London." He gives her brief salute, as Meredith smiles briefly, stepping into the dim interior. The cool air smells like rich leather, the butter soft seat beckoning her. She looks around, but no one else is inside. Derek joins her, pushing the cloak away from his dark curls. Mist clings to his skin, outlining his sharp cheekbones, making him look even more appealing.
"Mr. van Arden is waiting for you both at the estate. We'll be there right smartly." Then the door closes, and Meredith slides into Derek's embrace.
"We're really here," she whispers. "Are you all right, the sun, I mean?"
"The windows are specially tinted. Thatcher takes no chances, believe me. They are darkened, and bullet proof. Just in case."
"Now you're scaring me."
"Just a precaution." Derek kisses her lips, letting his tongue find hers, taking away her worries again. "Meredith...it's been hours, let me taste you." He takes her mouth, gently, and his body which had been cramped and tired, roars back to life as she opens her mouth beneath his. She is all his, all softness and he wants more, so much more. Common sense battles with his libido, knowing there isn't much time, that soon they will be face to face with Thatcher.
"Derek..." she whispers against his mouth. "You have me all hot and bothered again..."
"That makes two of us then, darling," he groans with a little half smile. He tightens his hold around her, realizing he could spend more time with her in bed or just being with her - she makes it so easy to be himself, no hidden agendas. "Did I ever thank you?"
"For...?"
"Trusting me, when I told you everything. I know it wasn't easy for you."
"It was no problem to trust you, Derek. Somehow it all made so much sense."
Derek claims her mouth again, until she is making those soft, little moans that make him crazy. Sliding his hands around her hips, urging her onto his lap again, letting his rock-hard length press deeply between her legs. Meredith kisses him back just as urgently, digging her nails into his shoulders, molding herself against him tightly. Too many layers of clothes between them, adds to their frustration, as the luxurious car purrs through early morning traffic. His hand closes around the nape of her neck, his fangs ready to take her again, ready to consume her. But he makes himself pull away, meeting her eyes in the dim interior. "This is torture, my dear."
Meredith leans against his chest, listening to his heart beating solidly, matching her own. "Too much torture..."
Thatcher waits in his library, knowing the exact moment that Derek and his daughter landed in the city. Will she accept him as he is, he wonders, pacing to the windows. He is well aware there has been trouble already with Michelangelo, that he has tried to harm her. His mouth thins, anger simmering in his thoughts at this. But at least she is here now, and safe, and he will see her soon. The car is approaching, he can hear the sound of the tires on the crushed rock lining the driveway. He feels an unaccustomed twinge of nerves, listening for the sound of footsteps to approach. The moment he has waited twenty-one years for has finally arrived.
Meredith pauses at the library door, glancing at Derek. "Are you coming with me?"
"If you want me to."
"Yes, of course."
Derek brushes a quick kiss over her lips. "Be brave, my love. He is a kind man, after all. And you are a strong woman - you can face him."
Meredith bites her lip but puts her hand on the doorknob. This is what she has come for, the moment to confront her heritage. With Derek's hand at the small of her back, she opens the door and walks in. The room is large, shelves of books reaching the ceiling. A small fire warms the cool air, adding a touch of cheer. Her eyes find the man waiting by the windows. He turns, hands clasped behind his back, and she sucks in her breath. For a second, she is taken back to the moments with Michelangelo. There is a similarity, but yet not. Thatcher is just as tall and thin as his brother, with the same silver hair, tied back. His black eyes are warmer, and he gives her an immediate sense of belonging. Where Michelangelo was evil, Thatcher is good; he exudes strength and wisdom. Dressed in a black suit, brocade vest, and snow-white shirt, even at six in the morning, he is in charge and refined.
"Welcome to my home, Meredith," Thatcher says, walking forward to meet her. He is struck again by her resemblance to Ellis. "And Derek, of course, good to see you back again as well. I trust you had no serious aftereffects from the last encounter with my brother." He raises one eyebrow knowingly.
Derek grimaces. "No, sir, though I'm so sorry that he even had the chance to try anything." His voice is low, his anger at himself evident.
"You came through, as I trusted you to. And you are here now, which is all that matters." He turns his gaze back to Meredith. "You must be exhausted. We should all rest and recoup for the day, and talk later. I've had the guest wing prepared for you, there are all the amenities you need, however, if there is anything missing, just ring for the maid, and she will bring it." Holding his hand to her, she takes it, letting him pull her closer. She feels calm, exchanging a glance with Derek. Thatcher senses the emotions between them, the blood pulsing in time, and he realizes they have already bonded. But he keeps his thoughts on that shielded for the moment. Instead he just nods. "My dear, it's so good to finally meet you. I've waited so long for this day. I hope you will be happy, and that it hasn't been overly traumatic for you."
"It's been…interesting…" Meredith replies. "But Derek has been so good to me, and he has helped me understand so much, though I'm sure it's just the beginning. And I have so many questions…about you…and Mom…"
"Ellis was extraordinary…" Thatcher says softly, tracing Meredith's cheek. "You look very much like her. I miss her every day still…"
"Me too…" Meredith confesses, letting Thatcher enfold her into his embrace. She feels his unconditional love, his strength around her, and she relaxes.
Derek watches them for a moment, thinking he should just leave them alone. But Thatcher catches his eye, holding him in place. Thank you, Derek…don't leave.
"Sleep now, Meredith. Tonight, we will talk. The day grows stronger, I'm afraid, and Derek and I both need to rest." Thatcher kisses her forehead and lets her go. "Derek knows the way to the guest wing. Stay here as long as you like." He leads the way to the door. "Good day for now." And he is gone, before she can blink.
"Let's go to bed, Derek…" she sighs, letting him lead her away as well. "I have a feeling I'm going to need my sleep…"