Godric hated waiting. It had been a month since the Fellowship of the Sun made their threats against Mercedes, but they had yet to make a move. He didn't dare think that they had simply forgotten, or that they would decide to leave her alone. The man who would order a suicide bomber into a nest over an embarrassment, who would order an innocent young woman's death because she did not agree with his ideals, would not leave alone the woman who'd threatened him off her property with a shotgun. It was not a matter of if the Fellowship staged some sort of attack, but when.

Mercedes was the one who suffered the most. She chafed at the guards that followed her everywhere when Godric couldn't be with her. Even in her classroom, there were two guards watching the door. Both human and vampire stayed unobtrusively in the corner, well out of her way, but she complained to him nightly about their mere presence. The month of hearing nothing further seemed to persuade her that they had given up, but he couldn't agree. Until he knew for certain that Steve Newlin was no longer a threat, the guards stayed, and Mercedes would simply have to be angry with him.

The object of his thoughts was currently eluding him, and he didn't care for the fact. He'd expected to find her in her classroom, and it was empty. It was unlike her to release her students early, but they were gone. Where could they be? When he saw the human guard who was supposed to be with her in the kitchen, he thought he might just break the man's bones. He was supposed to be guarding Mercedes, not helping himself to a cheesecake the cook left.

"Where is Mercedes? She is not in her classroom."

"They're up on the roof, sir. She said something about a practical astronomy lesson this evening. Mason is with her."

The roof. She had her students up on the roof? Granted, he highly doubted Steve Newlin had missiles, or snipers, but did the woman have no sense of self-preservation? At least her vampire guard was with her. Godric made his way to the roof, muttering about her reckless disregard for her own safety.

He found them all on the roof, laying on their backs and gazing up at the stars. Mason was the only one not lying down, but had instead chosen to sit and keep watch. If anyone was watching them, sitting would make the guard a smaller target. Mason nodded at him, but said nothing. The others didn't notice his arrival until he blocked their view of the stars they were looking for, and one by one the young ones fell silent, until only Mercedes was speaking about the constellations. She simply glared at him when she discovered the source of the interruption, then continued on with her lesson, ignoring his presence.

Jessica was watching him curiously, but he did nothing but lay down beside Mercedes. It had been decades since he'd had nothing to do but watch the stars. As Sheriff his nights had been too filled with the business of his Area. If he allowed it, the business of being King would take over his existence. He was determined not to allow it. His Sheriffs all seemed to be capable, and if they weren't they would be replaced with vampires who were. He was not Vincent, surrounding himself for the most part with those who hung on his every word and feared making a move without him. He was going to have more in his unlife than his position.

He reached for Mercedes' hand, unobtrusively, and smiled to himself when she did not pull away. The simple, everyday intimacies were something they'd had to work to achieve again. He heard the boy's snort of derision, and his comment to his sister that it was disgusting to see a grown woman with a kid. In a blink, he was on his feet hauling the insolent newborn to his feet by the throat, snarling. Even if Mercedes was willing to ignore the behavior, and blatant disrespect it highlighted, he was not.

"I am no child, infant! I made your Sheriff, and I have wandered this earth for over two thousand years. If I ever again hear such an attitude from your mouth I'll have your fangs, do you understand me?"

"Yes," the boy choked out.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. And you will apologize to your teacher for your misconduct and disrespect."

It took a great deal of stammering for the apology to come out, but at last it did. Once Godric was satisfied, he released his hold and allowed the boy to drop. In an instant, he had resumed his place at Mercedes' side, but from the corner of his eye he saw Heather smack her brother in the head. Good.

"Man-child," Mercedes murmured, but a grin was on her face, so Godric didn't take it too seriously.

"How much longer before you're free for the evening?"

"Maybe twenty minutes out here, and then back to the classroom for another hour. Why?"

"There's something we need to discuss. It will keep."

The invitation in his pocket practically burned him as he thought of it. Isabel was hosting a fundraiser, and as King he'd of course been invited. It would be Mercedes' first public appearance as his consort, but it would also be the first time she was exposed. If Steve Newlin could arrange an attack, the fundraiser would be an ideal place to do so. He would not care about human casualties.

Twenty minutes later, Mercedes did indeed wrap up her lesson. Godric wondered if there would truly be any questions on the stars in the exams that she was preparing these children for. He'd never had a formal education; he had no notion of what students might be examined on before they were deemed to be properly educated. Perhaps one of them had expressed an interest in the subject. That seemed more likely. Fortunately for the boy, he kept his thoughts to himself as they returned to their classroom. Godric returned to his business, determined to wade through more of the infernal emails that he continually received until Mercedes was free. He was beginning to regret the advent of the computer, now that he was required to be nearly attached to the instrument.

When Mercedes found him in his office, nearly ninety minutes had passed. Her lesson must have gone longer than she'd thought. She looked thirsty; had she had nothing since rising? He cursed the fact that she'd managed to rise before him, and slip away before he could see to something so important. He was certain she did so on purpose. He would see to it that she fed. They kept live donors on the property for a reason. A call to the lounge ensured that they would be joined momentarily by a human, and he would make sure Mercedes fed before they discussed the fundraiser.

"That's not necessary, Godric. I'm not thirsty."

"I can see that's a lie from here, Mercedes. I know that you are not comfortable with taking blood, but I'll not watch you starve yourself. You are thirstier than you realize."

"I think I'm able to tell if I'm thirsty or not."

"Please trust me when I tell you that you're still too new to recognize the early signs, Mercedes. You would not wait until you were starving to eat. Do not wait until that point to drink. I know that you would not want a human's death on your hands."

That she did not argue the point further was gratifying and that she did not balk when the young man walked into the office Godric considered nothing short of miraculous. He knew the adjustments she was still struggling to make, chief among them the need for blood. Thanks to Eric's proposal that she teach she was adjusting better to her new realities than he'd anticipated, but he suspected that there would be parts of vampire life that she would never be completely comfortable with, and he hated watching her struggle with them. He was less than thrilled that the human that arrived was male; he burned with jealousy watching Mercedes do something so intimate with another man, something he would never admit to. She probably chose male donors just to spite him.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked after the human was sent on his way to retrieve food so that he could begin to replenish what she'd taken from him. Godric handed her the envelope that had been staring at him since he began answering emails. Curious, she slipped the invitation out, then looked to him after she read through it.

"So you're saying I need to buy a new dress?"

She wasn't looking forward to that excursion. She didn't like shopping for clothes when she was human, now she would have to figure that out as a vampire. The limitless pocketbook hadn't changed, but everything else had. She would have to find the stores that stayed open later, which would likely be vampire run, and if they knew who she was (which they would) then she would have to deal with pushy sales people trying to make a commission. This fundraiser was in a week's time; not enough to order something online and have it shipped without paying exorbitant shipping fees.

"It could be dangerous to go. It would be a perfect target for Newlin and his devotees to make an attack."

"Do you really think that Steve Newlin would launch an attack on a building that will be full of innocent people? Humans?"

"Do you doubt that the man who sent a suicide bomber into my nest would not launch an attack on a gathering such as this? I sincerely doubt that Newlin would consider any human attending a vampire thrown fundraiser to be innocent."

She couldn't deny the truth of that. Still, she'd been telling him for a month that they couldn't live their lives in fear of Steve Newlin and what he might do.

"We can't let that little toad dictate how we live for the rest of his days, Godric."

"I will not risk your safety, Mercedes."

"Surely, if it's known that we're coming-with the information available to the public about what he did and the threats he's made-it wouldn't be unreasonable to have extra security around the event? I'm sure they're already planning to screen the guests; it wouldn't be too great a stretch to add more screening to stop anyone unwanted from getting in."

Much as she hated the idea of dress shopping, the idea of getting away from the nest was growing on her. She was starting to feel crowded in, which was a ridiculous thing to feel in a house this size. She was even willing to mingle with other vampires if it would get her past the gates.

"I will speak with Isabel," Godric finally conceded.

Despite the nightmare that dress shopping had turned out to be, Mercy was quite happy with the dress itself. The simple red satin hugged her curves in all the right places, and fell to just above the floor, brushing the tops of the matching shoes. It was simple and elegant, and since it wasn't a ballgown she didn't feel like she was going to trip over it every time she moved.

The diamonds Godric had presented her with added the final touch, and she made her way down to the main floor, where Godric was waiting for her. She hated the fact that even tonight business tried to interfere with his free time. She hoped he told the unfortunate caller who'd interrupted his dressing precisely what they could do with themselves.

He looked impeccable in his tuxedo, the red satin handkerchief tucked into a breast pocket a perfect match to her dress. She wasn't usually a fan of the matchy-matchy look, but tonight it felt more like Godric had chosen to match her dress in a show of solidarity, or stake a claim. She found she was okay with that. This would be her first official public appearance, and she would take all the support she could get. Besides, it was subtle. It wasn't as if he'd decked himself out in matching shirt or cumberbund.

"Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, finally. Remind me that I'm not answering that phone the rest of the night, unless it's one of my children."

"I'll hold you to that."

He offered his arm and she smiled as she accepted it. A phone-free evening was just what they both needed. Unless Ethan called, which was highly unlikely, she wouldn't answer her phone either.

The ride was shorter than she'd expected. It felt like only moments passed between Godric handing her intothe car and the limo pulling to a stop outside the hotel. The Carmilla had certainly increased their security for the fundraiser; every human was being carefully screened before they were allowed entry. If anyone managed to get some sort of weapon in it would be the result of sheer dumb luck.

As soon as they exited the limo all eyes were on them. Mercy supposed she would have to get used to such attention when she went into public with Godric. Vampire kings seemed to be as much a fascination for people as the human variety. T least she didn't have to wear a tiara. That would have been too much.

Protesters seemed determined to try to ruin the evening, but they were thankfully kept across the street. The armed security guards minding the rails meant business. She didn't get people who showed up to protest nothing. Protest lost its effectiveness as an instrument of change when people protested over nothing, and this was nothing. The vampires weren't doing anything to harm anyone with this event, and it wasn't as if this protest was going to take away the recognition vampires received from society.

"Don't let them get to you," Godric murmured as he led her into the hotel. That was easier said than done when people she'd never met were calling her an abomination. Why did people have to hate so blindly?

Inside, Mercy barely recognized the hotel lobby. The Carmilla had gone to great lengths to immerse the night's guests in the theme of the fundraiser. They were no longer in a hotel in Dallas; they were in a casino in Monte Carlo. No effort was being spared.

The greetings started the moment they were inside, as vampires began pressing in, hoping for a word with the king. Mercy wondered if they were even going to be able to make it to their table. Could all these people not let them at least get settled before beginning their convergence?

"If you wish an audience, you may approach when I am at my table," Godric announced as he forced the crowd to make way, "until that time you would do better to take your business to your Sheriff."

"Throwing Isabel under the bus, are you?"

"Tonight, älskling, that is her sole purpose. I will not be hounded by petitioners from now until sunup."

"Wise decision," she commented as she saw the number of vampires staring after them.

"Godric."

Mercy turned at the unfamiliar voice greeting them. She'd never seen this vampire before, and his voice lacked the Texas twang that most of the local vampires had adopted. She could tell that he was old. Godric stayed relaxed as they faced the newcomer, so Mercy guessed he probably wasn't a threat.

"Roman."

"It is good to see you, Godric."

"And you. But I understood from Lucian that it would be several months before you made your way to Texas. You should have let me know you were coming, I would have been able to meet you."

"I decided to come early, once I found out about this fundraiser. I didn't want any fuss. I'm assuming this lovely lady was your human?"

"Ah, yes. Roman, allow me to introduce Mercedes, my consort. Mercedes, meet Roman. Roman is a member of the Vampire Authority."

He was eyeing her curiously, this Roman, almost as curiously as he was eyeing Godric. She supposed they did make an odd pair, the thirty-something woman and the boy who looked sixteen. At least this one didn't look at her like some sort of interesting science project, like the Magister did.

"A pleasure, Mercedes. I can see why Godric was so taken with you."

"Thank you," she responded, unsure exactly what he was looking for. He didn't appear quite satisfied with that answer; what was he expecting? Fortunately, Godric stepped in.

"You will join us, Roman?"

"Of course. It'll be just like Vegas in Sixty-Three."

"So you intend to lose a fortune, then?"

"I think you're a little confused how that trip went?"

"You lost half a million dollars at the tables and disappeared for two days. We found you in a hotel room with six showgirls, two of them drained and the rest having an orgy."

Well, that was more than Mercy ever needed to know about the man. But she was more concerned about the fact that Godric didn't seem too concerned with what he said. Had he participated in the orgy he spoke of, or the killing? Had he randomly killed others on that trip? That didn't seem like him, not in all the years she knew him.

"Do you really want to swap stories, Godric? I have centuries' worth to share with your consort."

"Don't you dare!" Godric practically hissed at the man. Mercy found herself worried at the smirk Roman shot her way. He must expect that some of his stories would upset her, and so must Godric, judging from his alarm. She knew full well that as a two thousand year old vampire, Godric had probably killed more people than she could conceive of, but that knowledge was academic. That wasn't the man she knew. She was fine with not knowing any of the stories Roman had to share.

"Oh, let's see. There was that incident with the Venetian nuns back in 1752; you really enjoyed yourself that time."

Mercy was quickly pulled away and to one of the roulette tables, Roman's laughter ringing in her ears as they left. She wasn't sure she liked Godric's friend.

"Roman can be quite the handful when he chooses," Godric attempted to explain away the other vampire, "and he enjoys getting a rise out of others. Please, choose a number."

"You'd probably better do the choosing. I'm not much of a gambler."

Godric simply smiled as he handed her a small stack of chips, and Mercy placed her bet that the winning number would be red. She wasn't comfortable making large bets; betting on the color rather than the number meant she had a fifty-fifty shot of winning. She'd take those odds.

"You need not worry that you might lose our entire fortune, älskling."

"Hey, if you wanted something riskier then you should have made the bet."

Mercy won her conservative bet when the wheel stopped turning, and the dealer slid several more chips her way. After a few more rounds of wagers no more daring than colors, Godric finally took over, and Mercy was happy to let him. He would get much more enjoyment from betting than she did.

Blood was flowing freely, which Mercy found surprising, considering the number of human guests. She could tell from the scent that it was real blood in those glasses, not TruBlood. Were the humans choosing to ignore the fact, or were they genuinely oblivious? Could they really not tell a difference? It wasn't even the same color as real blood.

"Mercy!"

She turned at the call, and smiled widely when she found Annesta standing with Isabel. She hadn't seen the Sheriff since the night Jessica arrived.

"You made it!"

"Your first official public appearance? I wouldn't miss this for the world. Do you have any idea how many of the vampires here have come just to see the woman Godric claimed as Consort? This is going to be hilarious!"

"You think it will be worse than the sheriff's at the house?"

"I think it'll be ten times worse than the night we were over. Some have been trying to get Godric's attention for decades, and some of them probably haven't noticed or have chosen to ignore that he's yours."

Mercy looked to Isabel, hoping for a contradiction from the Sheriff. She really didn't want to spend the night dealing with a bunch of women trying to glare her to death, or move in on what was hers. She'd lost everything to this undead life, she would be doubly damned if she let someone try to take what little she had left. It wasn't going to happen. Unfortunately, Isabel didn't disagree with her colleague. Damn.

"I'm sure it won't be so bad as you're thinking, Mercy. They will respect Godric's claim on you, and yours on him, once it is known," the Spanish woman tried to reassure her.

"If that was true, Annesta wouldn't be warning me, now would she?"

Sure enough, even as they spoke a woman was sidling up to Godric, attempting to put an arm around him. Both sheriff's watched the younger woman walk off. Isabel waited until Mercy was out of earshot before speaking.

"Was that truly necessary, Annesta?"

"Entirely. I like Mercy very much I think she will be wonderful for Godric. But she was not someone meant for immortality. She's a scared kid thrust into an existence for which she's ill-qualified. She needs something to fight for if she is to adapt. Let it be Godric."

The visiting sheriff wandered off to speak with other acquaintances. Isabel found she could not fault Annesta's reasoning. Mercy did need something to hold on to, and fight for. With her niece now absent from her life, there must be a new focus for her attention and energy. The sheriff thought it rather wise of Annesta to attempt ot make Godric the new focus of Mercy's attention. She feared what the elder vampire might do if Mercy did not survive.

Mercy thought that Godric might have looked relieved when she rejoined him, but there was no mistaking the amused smirk when she glared at his new companion. The omwan had the nerve to smile at Mercy as she plastered herself to Godric, and Mercy seriously considered dragging the interloper off by her hair. Only the eyes of so many kept her behaving civilly.

"Who's your new friend?"

"Mercedes, allow me to introduce Celine, an old acquaintance."

Celine nudge Godric, smiling coyly at him. Mercy wanted to rip out the platinum blonde hair that she was sure was a bottle job.

"I wouldn't say we were acquaintances, darling. We do share quite a bit of history. And we used to have some quite good times together, until you decided to become a monk."

Mercy rolled her eyes at the overdone Southern accent. It was worse than Sookie Stackhouse's. If this Celine spent any significant time in the South, she should be ashamed of herself for butchering the speech.

"I was hardly a monk, Celine."

"You certainly left a great deal of women suddenly disappointed. It was very unlike you."

Celine seemed to be trying to channel her inner Scarlet O'Hara, and Mercy felt insulted on behalf of Southern women everywhere. She was beginning to think that if the woman had an intelligent thought in her head it would die of loneliness.

"Perhaps he simply developed standards."

"I don't think I know you, sugar," Celine drawled as her expression flattened into something threatening.

"Of course, Celine. You've not met my Consort before."

"This—this child is your consort?!"

If she was capable of it, Mercy was certain that woman's face would be jade with envy. If expressions could kill, that woman's would have incinerated her on the spot.

"That is correct."

"Well, I never would have guessed."

"I'm sure you wouldn't."

It might be petty, but Mercy took no small satisfaction in watching Celine stutter and make her excuses. The woman quickly found someone else to give her attention to, scampering away before she could further embarrass herself. Godric watcher her go with a small smile as he placed chips on the table for a new hand of blackjack.

"You need not be worried about Celine, älskling. Despite her words, she never had my attention."

"Then she doesn't need to try to get it now."

"My attention is only on you, Mercedes, as it has been for the last decade. No one in this building could be half so intriguing as you've always been."

It was another moment when Godric wished his consort still capable of blushing. He missed her reactions that she tried, but failed, to hide whenever he complimented her. Her jealousy pleased him; an entirely selfish sentiment, he would admit. The only thing that would please him more would be for her to make a public claim on him, as he'd done for her when he named her Consort.

"Play a hand, Mercedes."

He was indicating the seat beside him, so Mercy took it. She was fairly good at blackjack. She wasn't a gambler, but college had taught her some pretty good card skills.

"You've been holding out on me, " Godric murmured as she won three hands in a row.

"Only a little."

"We should have done this before; you'd have made your own fortune."

"As if we need any more money."

"It's not the money, älskling. It's the fun."

That was the part that Mercy had never understood. Perhaps it was because she'd never had wealth growing up, but she couldn't fathom the idea that risking losing so much was fun. The hand she'd just won was worth seventy-five thousand dollars, which was more than she could ever hope to earn in a year as a teacher. She thought of donating the money to the school, but it was unlikely they would accept anything from her now. Perhaps she would donate it to the public school system. They always needed money, and were less concerned with the life-status of the person writing the check.

"Isabel informed me that this event has already raised over two million dollars."

"Really? I wouldn't have expected people to be so generous to a vampire fundraiser."

"I believe it si the novelty of the situation that has provoked the response."

"Then at least something good is coming from this circus."

The rest of the evening was to pass much the same as the first hour. Godric would escort Mercy from game to game, and during their breaks at their own table he was inundated with vampires bringing some petition or other. Mercy just shook her head and rolled her eyes when it happened. At least he was remaining firm in his refusal to speak with any of his supplicants when they were gaming.

Mercy would periodically scan the room for Jessican and Heather, but she never found them in any real trouble. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves, and she only had to warn them off once when some human men tried to ply them with alcohol. She was not going to test out the theory that vampires couldn't get drunk by letting them drink from the inebriated men trying to drug them, and she could tell that they were itching to do just that. Maybe she should be worried about the fact that she wasn't really concerned with the humans' safety, but honestly they deserved whatever they got for trying to take advantage of young women.

She stiffened when she saw Wesley wander through the crowd. The boy had been restricted to the estate grounds for his behavior, and now he was daring to flout her authority? Did he honestly think he wouldn't be noticed?

Godric noticed her freezing up, and looked from the current petitioner to find the source. His eyes narrowed when he saw the boy who had clearly violated his orders. He'd had enough of the boy's insolence.

"Don't cause a scene, Godric."

Mercedes' gentle words kept him in his seat, but he wasn't going to let the blatant challenge go unanswered. With a nod he summoned one of the security detail to his side. A short order was all it took to send the man across the room after his target. Wesley would not be staying for long.

"Don't let him ruin your night, Mercedes. He will be dealt with when we return home."

Mercy was beginning to wonder when that time might come. It was well after midnight, but Godric showed no sign of being ready to retire. Whenever he spent more than a few seconds in company with Roman he seemed to catch a new wind. She was getting tired of sitting around being watched. Worse, she was starting to get a bad feeling with so many eyes on her.

"Miss Wright?"

The call was so unexpected that Mercy turned. Standing behind her was a very familiar face, and she had to think for a moment to place it. A former student from a few years back. Tiffany—Tiffany Meadows. That was it. The girl's parents had been staunch Fellowship supporters, and Tiffany had always shared their views, at least outwardly. What was she doing in a vampire hotel?

"Tiffany? What are you doing here?"

"Mom and Dad said you'd been corrupted, but I didn't want to believe it. How could you throw your soul away like this?"

"Do they know you're here?"

The human girl shook her head.

"They would skin me alive if they knew, but I had to see for myself. How could you do it?"

Mercy wondered if it would make any difference to Tiffany if she explained that she hadn't had a choice. It hadn't made any sort of difference to Ethan, and he was her brother. Would Tiffany listen, or would her words fall on deaf ears?

"Regardless of what you might think, Tiffany, not everyone who becomes a vampire choose to do so."

The human looked confused at that, and Mercy had to wonder what the girl thought she knew about vampires. Most popular fiction, with the exception of that Twilight series that so many teens had fallen in love with, was filled stories of unwilling turnings. No one with half a brain should believe the AVL party line that all turnings are consensual.

"You should go. You don't want anyone thinking you're a snack. It wouldn't do anything good for vampire/human relations."

If a human was attacked at this event, it could start another political war between humans and vampires. The last thing anyone needed was for the violence to escalate again. Why did people have to hate each other?

"The Fellowship wants your head, Ms. Wright. You'd better look after yourself."

"You should leave the Fellowship while you still can, Tiffany. Before Steve Newlin does something that gets everyone killed."

A shaky nod was the only farewell the human girl took, and Mercy watched her go. She had no real hope that Tiffany would actually listen to her about leaving the Fellowship, but she had to try. That place wasn't a church so much as a cult, and the cult leader would lead his followers to slaughter. If Steve Newlin kept up his attacks on vampires, both real and political, Godric would retaliate. If another nest was bombed, or another home destroyed, the new king would not sit idly by.

Godric had become ruthless since his resurrection. Perhaps that ruthlessness had always lurked beneath his exterior, but Mercy had never seen it before his death. He thought she didn't know what happened to the humans who'd burned down her home, but she did. She didn't want Tiffany, or any other Fellowship member, to suffer the same fate because of Steve Newlin.