When we arrived back at Eric's house, Godric immediately went upstairs. "I want to make sure you're safe," he addressed me firmly, "please pack your things."

"Where are we going?" I asked, knowing full well that he wasn't going to accept 'no' for an answer. And, quite frankly, I would feel safer somewhere that Debbie and her new pack wasn't aware of. There wasn't much to stop them from coming back. Just Talbot and even if Russell got momentarily distracted, it didn't mean that Debbie would give up so easily.

"Eric and I bought a house in Germany during the second World War."

"You were in the war?"

"Regrettably," he admitted. Ah, so he was on the German's side during the war. I found that that didn't bother me, though. Reaching out, I rested my hand gently on his arm.

"It doesn't matter, you know."

"But it does."

"The past is the past, Godric. You can't go back and change it. The only thing you can do is learn from it. Make your future a better one. And you have all eternity to do that," I smiled lightly. He smiled sadly at me, kissing my forehead before leaving. I stared after him for a few seconds before beginning to pack up my things. By the time I had finished, both Eric and Godric returned to my room. Neither had bags in their hands, but I assumed that they were downstairs.

"I'm glad to see that you're unharmed. Relatively," Eric noted the bruises that were already beginning to form.

I reached up to touch the side of my face. "Uh, Debbie," I said dismissively. "I've had worse, trust me. Just don't let me sleep for awhile. I think she may have given me a concussion."

Eric raised his eyebrows, turning to his maker and speaking in a language I was unfamiliar with. Whatever they were discussing, Godric seemed hesitant to agree to it. I had the distinct feeling that it had to do with me. Mostly because of the fact that they were speaking in another language and Eric kept glancing at me with a look that was a mixture of cocky and knowing. He's always a smug little bastard.

"It's merely a suggestion," Eric concluded the discussion. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I still have some of Russell's guards on me." He gave me a smirk before retreating from the room. So he had been the company Talbot had been talking about.

"Eric's scheming again?" I broke the silence.

"He seems to think that I should offer you my blood," Godric began lightly.

"It's just a concussion. I've had worse. Besides, it's not like you're my own personal healing fountain."

"You do not want my blood?"

"Oh, I—uh. Oh shit, I'm not good at this." A brief look of amusement crossed his face. "What? You think I'm funny?"

"You are slightly amusing," he grinned at me. I shot him a playful look of anger before zipping up my bag.

"All I'm saying is that you aren't obligated by any forms to give or offer it." He stepped closer, taking the bag from my hands.

"I don't want it to be your deciding factor on me."

"It won't be." I leaned up and kissed his cheek gently. "Trust me." In seconds, my bag was on the floor and I was pinned against the wall, Godric's lips on my own. I hungrily responded, relishing in the simple taste of him.

"I hate to interrupt, but Michael says we should be going soon," Eric announced from the doorway. Godric growled lightly, pulling away and giving his progeny a dirty look. That's all it took for me to start giggling. Both of the vampires looked at me oddly.

"You're tired," Godric stated simply. I nodded, trying to hold back my giggles. Without further prompting, he easily picked both the bag and myself up. Eric turned silently on his heel, leading us down the stairs. Godric easily kept up with him, despite being burdened with me and my things. Typically I would have protested against being carried like a princess. But, honestly, I was tired. And sore. Not to mention that his presence was just so damn soothing. I made a mental note to yell at him for that—just for kicks. The mental image of the confusion on his face made me start giggling again.

Michael and Eric both shot me a concerned look. Well, Michael looked concerned for my well being. Eric looked concerned as if I was going to go insane and start feasting on all of them. That made me wonder if each vampire tasted different from one another. I'm sure that they have to. They don't typically come from the same geographic location or era. Marc had been a newer vampire (only just shy of a hundred) so he hadn't tasted like anything overly exotic. More of a smoked, salty bourbon taste. He had been turned in the 1920's where he had been a part of the mob that kept alcohol flowing steadily around the country during Prohibition. So, naturally, he had smoked frequently, tasted quite his share of bourbon, and lived in Atlantic City. That made for a pretty interesting cocktail.

"Do they make cocktails out of vampire blood?" I asked suddenly.

"I think that werewolf hit you over the head one too many times," Eric muttered.

"She should probably be healed," Michael regarded me. "She's getting somewhat delirious." I frowned at him. Delirious? I felt perfectly fine. Kind of. I just couldn't seem to pin my thoughts down long enough to completely process anything.

"I'm fine," I insisted. "I think Godric must have dropped you on your head as a child, Eric."

"I'll take the bags to the car," he ignored me. Michael nodded, lifting bags to help him. Godric handed him my bag, watching them leave. He looked down at me before gingerly touching the side of my skull where Debbie had inflicted the most wounds.

"You have some internal bleeding." He set me down, steadying my sea-legs by gripping my waist firmly. His fangs dropped, breaking open the pale flesh on his wrist. Hesitantly, he offered me his wrist. Out of sheer curiosity, I accepted it. I found that he did have a different taste than Marc. Godric tasted sweeter but with the distinct tinge of herbs and a faint dusting of salt water. But a purer salt water than Marc's had been. It intrigued me.

When he pulled his wrist away, I felt more alert. I guess I really had been a little fucked up. It had been similar to being drunk and then sobering up and realizing how dumb you must have looked. (Not that I would know, of course. Don't listen to any stories Alcide has to share. They're all false slander and a defamation of character. Even if he claims to have proof. I swear that I have a Doppelganger. Lara Croft has one—why can't I?)

"I guess I was I a little off," I commented after a brief moment of silence. He smiled lightly in amusement.

"Come, we have a plane to catch." Despite being able to walk on my own again, Godric kept his hand firmly on my waist as he led me outside. Michael and Eric grabbed the last of the bags and settled into the driver's and passenger's seats respectively. Godric sat in the back with me.

"I've never been to Germany," I remarked idly. "Is it nice there?"

"The last time I was at this home was when we were part of the Schutzstaffel," Eric replied, glancing at me in the rear-view. "I've heard it's changed quite a bit since then. They allow brunettes to roam freely, now."

"Good to know I won't have to go blonde," I chuckled. "I make a terrible blonde. I've tried. More than once." I cringed, remembering the bad hair experiences. "Is it out in the country or in the city?"

"Country. Do you honestly expect a Viking to live in the middle of a city?"

"I dunno. You could always be a city slicker in disguise."

"Hardly."

The rest of the drive was silent. Even the radio remained off. I had been wondering about passports whenever we pulled up to a private section of the airport. Apparently one of my companions had a pilot's license. Which meant that me illegally leaving the country wasn't a problem. The man waiting for us didn't even look like he was legitimately employed through the airline, I noted. When Eric slipped him a wad of cash, my suspicions were confirmed.

Michael and Godric took the bags on board while Eric and I headed into the plane. "I bought this on a whim a few years ago," he offered. "Pam had wanted to take up flying." The thought of Pam in a cute little pink stewardess's outfit didn't surprise me in the least. I pictured it quite well, actually. "So I bought this and told her that she could learn to fly it."

"She didn't stay very interested in it, I take it?"

"Not in the slightest," he grinned at me.

"Lucky for us."

"What's lucky for us?" Michael asked as he and Godric climbed aboard. The door closed behind them.

"That Pam has the attention span of a dragon fly," Eric replied, going to sit in the co-pilot's seat next to Michael. I took one of the window seats, staring out curiously. Of course, I've flown before. But I rather enjoyed it. Oddly enough. Most people are terrified of heights. But I've always loved being at the tops of things. Mountains. Buildings. Planes. Ferris wheels. It didn't really matter what it was as long as it was high above the ground. The thoughts of falling to a very gruesome death below never deterred me from this fascination. It was a fascination that had, more than once, worried my were family.

"You look troubled," Godric noted, sitting down beside me despite the entire cabin being devoid of any other passengers.

"Not particularly," I smiled at him. "I was just thinking how strange it was that I've always had a fascination for heights. Alcide and Jackson always worried that I would end up climbing on something and breaking my neck." I chuckled at the memories. Getting in trouble was something of a specialty of mine. I was very, very good at it. And it seemed to be a talent that I was improving over time. Then again, I guess trouble just has a natural pull toward me. I don't intentionally get in trouble. It just happens.

"You've always been this much of a handful?"

"Not quite worthy of fleeing the country, no. But I've always been a source of worry and a little discomfort."

"But also of great joy, I am sure."

I bit back the urge to disagree and, instead, simply grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, a thankful smile on my face. Without letting go I resumed my inspection of the ground as it became smaller and smaller. Michael was a fairly decent pilot, I noted. Well, far better than decent, really. But something had been bothering me about him. If he could see the future, why hadn't he seen Debbie, Cooter, and the other were coming to the house? He and the other guards should have very easily been able to out power the three. Even if they had been all hopped up on V.

When Godric pulled gently at my hand, a concerned look crossing his features, I forced a smile and pushed the thoughts as far from the front of my mind as I could. There would be time to contemplate this without worrying Godric, I decided. I finally truly settled in to enjoy the ride.

We arrived in Germany just before dawn, leaving little time for the vampires to do anything. Eric gave us a glance of a tour before showing us our rooms. It was smaller than Eric's home in Shreveport, I noted. This was confirmed when we were informed that there were only three rooms available. They were all, however, light free during the day. Much like the vampire hotel in Texas, Eric had gotten windows that automatically converted to protect the vampires on the premises. Michael was assigned the small guest bedroom. Eric took his usual master suite and then said that he would let Godric and I decide the final arrangements.

Well, that's slightly awkward, I thought as the Viking retreated into his room.

"If it bothers you, I can always stay with Eric," Godric ventured when I was silent. I studied him in contemplation, a slow smile creeping across my face.

"No, that would be silly. It's your home, too. You should at least be comfortable." And not sleeping with your slightly misanthropic son, I added silently. But I couldn't rightfully say anything about being misanthropic. I'm a rather detached person at times, too.

"Your comfort is my main concern."

I frowned at him. "Two-thousand-years-old and you're concerned about my comfort?"

He returned my frown. "Why would I not?"

"Most vampires even a quarter of your age are less than concerned with mortal comforts. I'm just trying to piece together how exactly you can think you're a horrible person when I'm astounded by your kindness."

"I have not always been this kind."

"Somehow, I don't buy that," I shook my head. I glanced out the window at the end of the hallway. The sky was turning a faint tinge of pink. That meant that the sun would be fully risen in another ten minutes or so. "But I suppose that doesn't matter much now. I'm sure we'll continue this conversation later." I turned to face him. "Start grabbing life by the throat a little more. It won't kill you—or make you a horrible person. Demanding what you want from life isn't a crime."

He stepped closer to me, his frame standing quite clearly over mine. "I want to share a room with you." I was acutely aware of how breathless he made me in that instant. How deceptively well sculpted his face was. The way his emerald eyes appeared far lighter than they were.

I forced a smile, speaking lowly: "That's all you had to say."

He bent down, capturing my lips with his own as he easily lifted me into the room behind us. I wrapped my legs around his waist, effectively ridding us of any space that could possibly separate us. Godric gently laid me down on my back, being sure not to put his entire weight on me. His lips soon left mine, roaming around any exposed skin that they could find. When his hands reached for the hem of my shirt, he hesitated. I nodded lightly, kissing him in response.

He didn't need any further convincing.