Myka tries to navigate her life without Helena in it, and Christina makes an appearance. Minor character death.

Myka trudged through the next few days in virtual silence. Tracy, David and Sameen returned a few days after Warren's death, and upon their arrival Tracy and Pete had an urgent conversation on the porch, looking at her with concern through the glass of the back door. She felt almost like she had when her gift hadn't been working – like she was wading through a sea of vague impressions, through a thick sludge of heavy emotion. Only this time, the emotion was hers, the impressions were hers. She was trying to push them away, trying to push the thought of Helena away. She tried to stay at the station for as long as possible, pushing paper around, keeping her head full with budgets and training and forensic reports. It was almost impossible, however, to keep her thoughts and feelings at bay. Helena had inserted herself into Myka's heart and mind and those marks she'd made on Myka's bones, her skin, her muscle – they were indelible. She missed the silence and peace; that incredible contentment she'd always felt in Helena's presence.

Christina and MacPherson hadn't been seen since their attack on Myka. It was making Myka nervous, because she remembered the way that kids had behaved in the foster homes she'd lived in. Kids were vicious, and kids held grudges. The way she figured it, Christina was going to be extremely pissed at her specifically. Given that her more than 100-year murder spree had been because she was upset that her mother had left her and MacPherson, what would she do to a woman who had physically hurt her, made her skin melt down her face?

Later that third night after she had broken up with Helena, she had her answer. Mr Valda called Myka on her cell just as she arrived home from the station; she hadn't even had time to take off her hat.

"Mr Valda. What's wrong?" she asked, knowing that the packmaster would not bother her unnecessarily.

"Sheriff Bering. We found several of our pack dead this morning, murdered by this child vampire. One, however, was still alive, and he woke just moments ago. The vampire was looking for information about you. Who you care about, who you love. They cannot enter your home, Sheriff Bering. But they can enter the station – it's a public building. You may wish to warn your colleagues – it is almost sundown."

Myka thought, afterwards, that she must have said something else to Mr Valda. She definitely hung up, because she called the station right away. The line just rang out the busy signal, something that should never happen. She choked out some words and Pete, Tracy and Sameen followed her to the car and straight to the station. It looked quiet from outside.

Inside, however, the attack was ongoing, Christina rampaging through the station like an avenging angel. There was a trail of devastation in her wake. Claudia Donovan was lying, unmoving, one arm clearly broken, a large blue bruise swelling on her temple. Her nose was bleeding, which meant she was alive, so Myka ignored her for the time being. Leena was in the corner furthest away from them, some sort of shield over her as she muttered something under her breath. Some of the other staff, including Steve, were behind her and the shield, which Christina was trying to get through. She'd already killed Jeff Weaver. He had partially transformed into his wolf form, but she had killed him instantly, ripping his head off with her bare hands, it appeared. There was blood everywhere, in gory patterns on the desks and walls and ceilings. Liam was lying prone next to Jeff's body, his throat torn. It was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead. All this, Myka took in with one glance. She turned to see Sameen, inexplicably with a loaded shotgun, taking aim at the vampire.

"Is it silver?" Myka managed to whisper, while pulling out her own handgun. Sameen nodded. Myka noted absently that she was chewing on something. Gum? Pete and Tracy had transformed behind them in the time it took Myka to look around the scene once.

Myka didn't shout a warning this time. She simply started shooting. Unfortunately, the vampire had already heard them – whether it was her whispering or their movement that had alerted her, Myka wasn't sure. But she blurred out of the path of the bullet, shrieking insanely. She hit Myka low in her side – maybe it was her ribs – and Myka's head suddenly met the wall that had been a few feet to her right, cracking it soundly against the brick. She heard Sameen's gun go off along with twin snarls from Pete and Tracy. Then something hit her head again with another loud crack, and there was pain in her neck, burning, horrible pain, and she knew no more.

This time when she woke she felt a warmth in her chest. It was as if the sun had lodged itself there, in her heart. There was someone nearby, and that someone was making her feel an incredible warmth and happiness. It was calm and quiet, and she could feel cool hands on her brow.

"I love you," she whispered, without thinking.

"And I, you," her vampire replied.

When she woke, she was in Helena's bed. It was daylight, so Helena was gone. Lying next to her was Tracy and David, snuggled in to her side like a baby wombat, she thought, slightly drunkenly. She wasn't entirely sure what a baby wombat looked like, but she was pretty sure David looked like one.

"Hey, sis. You doin' okay?" Tracy asked, and Myka held up a finger. Her sister's voice was approximately the volume of thunder.

"What's going on?" Myka asked, her eyes closed. The light was too bright.

"You almost died. Again," Tracy said flatly. And quietly, a fact for which Myka was extremely grateful.

"Christina?" she asked, trying to remember what happened.

"She got away. Sameen managed to shoot her," Tracy said, her voice turning fond. Myka smiled.

"Silver shot?"

"Yeah. She said you asked her that, just before Christina got to you."

"So what happened?" Myka asked. She could hear another person breathing close by.

"She hit you – the little vamp – and you hit the wall, and then Shaw shot her, but she jumped on you anyway, and hit you in the head again, and then she almost tore out your throat. Pete and I dragged her off you, and she disappeared – blurred away like they do. About the same time, Helena showed up. I don't know how she knew you were hurt, but she was here pretty much before you hit the ground. She fed you some of her blood," Tracy said, and Myka shot bolt upright.

"Shit. Shit. She gave me her blood. I… we weren't supposed to do that. We're going to have a bond, now…" she said, trailing off. How the hell was she going to manage this? A blood bond with the woman – the vampire – who murdered her father? The woman she'd just broken up with five minutes ago, effectively breaking both their fucking hearts?

"She loves you, Myka," Tracy said, and Myka looked at her incredulously.

"Come on, Trace. She killed our father."

"I know," Tracy said, flatly. "Can you blame her? She saw a threat, and she took care of it. Just like she's doing with Christina. She's protecting you from her own daughter, Myka. If nothing else, that ought to tell you that she's on your side."

"I know she's on my side, Tracy, but she killed him! I don't care, not about him. But she killed him because he threatened me. He didn't even do anything; you know? And anyway, why would you forgive her? He was your dad. He was part of your life," Myka said, looking at Tracy in confusion.

Tracy shrugged.

"She did wrong, Myka. But she's not human. We're the first humans she's been around in a long time. She was trying to do something to help you. I loved Dad, but I didn't like him. He was a horrible man. He would have killed you, you know. You and Pete and Amanda. Just because you were different. I honestly don't know what would have happened if he found out about David's telepathy. And last night – I watched Helena save your life, sis. Your heartbeat was stuttering. I thought it was going to stop right there. And she gave you her blood, tore a hole in her wrist, to save your life. And the way she held you – God, she loves you. If I'm on anyone's side, I'm on hers. I think she understands now, that it wasn't okay, but she did it for you."

Myka stared at her sister. Her pragmatic sister who didn't care that Myka's vampire lover had killed their father. Myka didn't care about Warren, not really. But it wasn't okay for Helena to kill him. She couldn't let that go, could she?

David, who had been unceremoniously removed from his warm snuggly place by her side, was starting to stir. Myka checked that her mental shielding was in place, pleased when she discovered that it was, and that the shielding was stronger than ever. She didn't need David reading her mind now, finding out that Helena had killed his grandfather.

"Aunt Myka! You're awake!" he exclaimed, as soon as his eyes opened.

"Yeah buddy, I am," she said, smiling and ruffling his curls. He really was an incredibly cute child.

"You were sick, and Aunt Helena fixed you," he said, and he looked both sad and thrilled.

"I know, little guy. I got in a fight, because I'm the Sheriff."

"Mom told me," he said, nodding solemnly. "Is the vampire going to hurt me, now?"

"Which vampire?" Myka asked, confused.

"The little girl who hurt you. Uncle Pete and Mom were thinking about her, last night when we got here."

"David, honey. You can't listen to people's thoughts, unless they tell you that you can. We talked about this," Myka said, frowning.

"I couldn't stop it, Aunt Myka. They were all so worried about you, and Uncle Pete was crying because his friend died. I couldn't keep them out," he said, sadly. Myka pulled him in, in a one-armed hug, and kissed the top of his head.

"Okay, buddy. I know sometimes you can't stop it. Don't worry," she murmured, and he leaned against her, his arms tight around her middle. Tracy was looking at them, a fond look on her face, and Myka couldn't help but smile in return.

"Who else is here?" Myka asked, remembering the breathing she could hear.

"Sameen's downstairs," Tracy said. "She went to get a sandwich."

Myka took a deep breath. Clearly third time was the charm, so far as imbibing vampire blood went. She could hear someone breathing a floor away from where they were sitting. And if she concentrated – yup, she could tell what Sameen was having. She did briefly wonder why there was any food in Helena's fridge at all, given that Helena didn't eat. But regardless, Sameen was making a sandwich that smelled like three kinds of cooked meat, pickles, chillies and large quantities of spicy sauce. Chipotle? No. Sriracha. The woman must have a stomach like steel, she thought.

"Myka?"

"What?" Myka said, looking up to find Tracy looking at her curiously.

"What are you thinking about so hard?"

Myka smiled.

"I was just trying to work out what Sameen is putting on her sandwich. Turns out, when you drink vampire blood, it increases your strength and your senses. So I can tell you each ingredient she's putting on that sandwich. The third time that you exchange blood, it develops a bond between you and the vampire," Myka said, a wry smile on her face.

"Let me guess. This is the third time?" Tracy asked, with a sympathetic smile.

"Yes," Myka said, nodding ruefully.

"So now you're bonded, forever, to a vampire who you just broke up with?" Tracy asked.

"Yup," Myka said shortly.

"Okay. Let's get you some breakfast. David, you hungry?" Tracy asked, changing the subject rapidly.

"Yeah!" the little guy said, jumping up and down. Myka smiled at his antics, and they went down to eat.

Myka returned to the station later that day, to find it almost deserted except for Leena, Pete and Amanda, who were attempting to clean up the devastated office space. There was still blood everywhere.

"Hey, you guys," Myka said, waving at them vaguely. Pete and Amanda nodded to her gravely, and Leena examined her carefully, approaching her slowly. When she was face to face with Myka, she touched her temples gently.

"You're bonded," she murmured, looking at Myka sympathetically.

"Yeah," Myka said, and Leena smiled softly.

"It might not be the worst thing," Leena said.

"I owe you my thanks, Leena. We all do. You saved Steve and those other deputies last night," Myka said, changing the subject.

"I couldn't save Jeff," Leena said sadly. "He was a good man."

"He was," Myka agreed. She made a mental note to see Mrs Frederic about giving some sort of posthumous medal or award for courage. Jeff certainly deserved it. And Leena deserved something, too. She knew from Pete that Jeff didn't have any family, which made her job easier, but it also seemed really sad, somehow, that they were the last people to really know Jeff. And she didn't know him at all, other than that he was respectful and did a good job.

"How are Liam and Claudia?" Myka asked. She'd asked Pete earlier, but he'd just said "fine," in a monotone.

"Liam has a few broken ribs and a concussion. His neck is mostly healed already. Claudia has a broken arm and a few facial fractures – her nose and her cheekbone. And a hell of a headache. But she'd going to be okay."

"Is someone with her?" Myka asked, belatedly. Making sure the others were safe was really her job, but she'd been too distracted with everything else – with her own near-death experience – to deal with any of it.

"The packmaster has guards looking after them both. Liam and Claudia are in the same room, so they've got each other to talk to. Plus I doubt Steve will be leaving anytime soon," Leena said wryly. "Dr Calder is taking care of things so no-one notices how quickly Liam heals, by the way."

Myka nodded, distracted, and picked up a scrubbing brush and some bleach and got to work on the blood stained floor. It was carpet, a boring grey pattern. She'd never really looked at it before, and she didn't much care for the circumstances in which she was doing so now. She spent what felt like hours scrubbing, exchanging the odd word with her co-workers, and she had a few hysterical giggles to herself when she started repeating lines from Macbeth in her head. "Out, damned spot!" She eventually resorted to singing (to herself, of course, as her co-workers didn't deserve that pain) to fill the silence and stop her from thinking what would happen at sundown. She could feel Helena sleeping somewhere under the earth, cold and damp and still. The bond was in full force, now. She was fairly sure that she was going to have a lot of trouble staying away from her vampire ex, now that she had an unbreakable blood bond that made her inexplicably happy in the vampire's presence. It made her feel really pissed, like her own emotions were betraying her.

Leena's hand suddenly swam into view. She put her hand over Myka's.

"I think that's enough for today, Sheriff," she said, quietly, and Myka looked up, blinking myopically as she realised it was beginning to get dark, and that the others were packing up. "It's almost sundown."

"Okay," Myka said, getting up from her knees and stretching, feeling her back crack deliciously. She felt so strong. It didn't feel right, that she was here, stronger than ever, when Jeff Weaver was on a slab in the ME's office.

She went to the bathroom to wash up, watching the blood and soapy water combine and drain away, and she tried not to think about what she was going to do when the sun went down. She knew what she wanted to do, but her head and her heart were not in accord. To allow herself to be with Helena was to say that murder was okay, as long as the person doing it thought it was right. Never mind that she didn't give a damn about Warren Bering, and actually thought that him leaving the world was a good thing.

She made her way home, making a quick sweep through town to check for any trouble. There was nothing happening, and she found herself almost disappointed. She was spoiling for a fight, looking for an outlet for her frustration. And she felt powerful enough right now to beat the shit out of a crowd of people. She might even be strong enough to beat Christina – she had no idea how strong she was, now that she was blood-bonded to Helena.

She arrived home to a full house, with Amanda and Tracy in the kitchen cooking something delicious-smelling. David was still up, being entertained by Sameen and Pete and a large amount of Lego. Myka waved at them vaguely before going upstairs to shower. She was just rinsing her hair when she felt Helena rise, and with that feeling came an urge to go to her, to find the vampire and be close to her. She steeled herself and finished showering, changing into some more comfortable clothes before heading down to join the others for dinner. She ate quietly, trying to ignore that feeling, that longing to be with Helena, to be complete.

"You okay, boss?" Pete asked quietly as they cleared the plates together and washed up. It had always made her feel better, washing dishes – it put her in some sort of a contemplative state, that state of just making something clean, doing something simple, uncomplicated. But not tonight. Her insides were wriggling with the need to leave, to go outside, to find Helena.

"This bond, it's difficult to resist. I can feel her, out there, and I want to go to her. But… she killed someone, Pete. She can't just do that. I should have arrested her; you know?"

Pete nodded.

"I know. I don't know if I would get over it, either. But it's not as black and white as that – or at least, not in this world. I killed Sally to save your life. Helena killed Marcus and Walter. Your father – yeah, maybe he wasn't an immediate threat to your safety, boss. But you looked into his mind when we were there picking up Tracy and the little guy. Would he have stopped his buddies if they were killing me? If they were killing you?"

Myka chewed her lip, scrubbing at a particularly persistent piece of burnt-on something from Amanda's casserole.

"I don't think so. He would have been quite happy for his problem – me – to disappear. He doesn't hate me, but I embarrass him. I'm that freak daughter of his. He wouldn't have shed a tear. He might have sweated a little, covering it up, though."

"I can't believe it took his grandchild coming in to stop him from attacking us," Pete said.

"Yeah. Father of the year," Myka snorted. "At least he never found out about the kid's gift – he would probably have tried to make Tracy give him up."

"Yeah, I think you're right. And I'm pretty sure he would have lost that argument – Tracy seems like she might go a little bit cuckoo for cocoa puffs, if someone tried to separate her and the kid."

"Yeah," Myka said, and then sighed. She wanted to find Helena. She needed it. Her skin was crawling with the need to be with her.

"Maybe you should just go with it, boss. She screwed up. I don't think she'll do it again. And like she said to you – she's a vampire. Now that she understands the boundaries, maybe you two can do your thing again," Pete said, thoughtfully.

"I don't know, Pete. It seems like a line that I shouldn't cross. I know that things are pretty fucked up, with vampires and shapeshifters and all that, but that doesn't mean I should give up on doing the right thing. Even if it is hard," she said, and she almost laughed out loud at the understatement. It was damn near impossible.

"Boss, you don't look so good. Maybe you should just go see her, just to talk. You don't have to get back together." Pete was watching her carefully, concern etched across his face.

Myka brushed her hand across her forehead wearily.

"I don't know if I can do that, Pete. Just talk. It might be too hard not to… you know…" she trailed off.

"It's better than looking like you're going to crawl out of your own skin, Mykes. Go see her. Talk to her. It can't be worse than this. Me and Amanda and Shaw will keep an eye on things here, okay? No need to worry. Just go, please."

She nodded at him and went out the front door, looking for her car keys in her jacket pocket. She didn't need them, however. Helena was already there, waiting. She lifted Myka up bodily without a word, and a few very blurry seconds later they were in Helena's living room.

"Please, sit," she said awkwardly, to a stunned Myka, who just nodded and sat, trying to catch her breath.

"Can I get you a drink?" Helena asked solicitously.

"Yes, please. Something cold?" Myka asked, and Helena disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a glass of cold beer and a bottle of Tru Blood.

Being close to Helena had alleviated a lot of the distress that the blood bond was causing, so Myka took a deep breath and a sip of her drink.

"I wanted to check you were okay," Helena began, awkwardly.

"You knew I was okay, Helena," Myka replied. "You saved my life again. And you bonded us," she added. Helena flinched a little.

"I had no choice, Myka. You were dying. Your heart was about to stop beating, and your neck was broken. You would have died."

"It wasn't really your choice to make. I remember that I told you that I didn't want this," Myka said, but her heart wasn't really in it. She couldn't really be mad at Helena for saving her – again. But this bond was a complication she hadn't been prepared for.

"I would do it again, whether you agreed or not," Helena said stubbornly. Myka just sighed.

"Is it always going to feel like this when we're apart?" Myka asked, almost plaintively.

"No," Helena said softly, sitting down close to Myka. "It will be like this for a few days, perhaps a week. But then it will reduce so that you will only feel better when we are close – you will not feel bad if we are not."

"Okay," Myka breathed, relieved. That should make things easier.

"You can go, if you wish," Helena said, her face still. "I only wished to make sure you were safe."

"I can stay, for a little while," Myka said, and Helena's face relaxed a little. They sat there in silence for a few moments, and Myka felt everything, all of the tension inside her, melt away to nothing. There was no noise, here, and Helena's presence, as always, made her feel calm. But more than that, now, it made her feel secure, warm, as if she were a small animal burrowed in the safest place it knew. She felt profoundly content, and without thinking about it she moved closer to Helena, putting her head in the crook of Helena's neck and taking a breath of pure happiness. Helena was stiff against her for a moment, before she, too, relaxed and pulled Myka closer to her, her arm around Myka's waist. Though she was cool to the touch, as always, Myka felt only warmth. This was her place, and she couldn't think why she would ever want to leave it. She knew that there were reasons – good reasons – why she shouldn't, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She loved Helena, and Helena loved her, and for now, that was all that mattered.

She woke in the morning alone in Helena's bed. She was in pyjamas. She had vague recollections of the night before, but mostly it was just an impression of feeling content to the point where she felt almost drugged. She knew Helena had carried her to bed but she was fairly sure that nothing other than a little cuddling had happened between them. She didn't know how to feel, now that she was emerging from her daze of contentment. She hadn't wanted to spend time with Helena – or at least her head hadn't. But her heart – it had a mind of its own.