"I told you before, Novice Vitsin, that I expect you to behave in a gentlemanly manner toward the ladies of this household. If Novice Hathaway says she's not interested in you in that way, then she's not interested!"

Dimitri sat on a log at the side of the makeshift sparring ring, stripping his shirt off along with his boots. The boots coming off were a given. But the shirt? He only did that when he really meant business.

"Take your shirt off, Novice Vitsin," he ordered in a voice that brooked no refusal.

I was worried that Dimitri might do Artyom some real damage, so I took off – racing inside to get my mother. I knew it took a lot to provoke my Russian God's ire, but once he was angry enough, he could do anything. Seeing another man kiss me seemed to have done the job. I was hoping my mother's presence might be enough to help my beloved reign in his temper.

"Mom! I think you'd better come outside!" I said running through the mudroom and into the kitchen.

One look at my flushed face and flustered demeanor was enough to have Mom out of her chair, following me out the back door and around the side of the building. Naturally, the rest of our housemates followed.

"I don't like men who don't listen when a lady says she's not interested," Dimitri was saying in a low voice to Artyom who was reluctantly standing in the ring, warily eyeing off an incensed Russian Guardian half a foot taller than him. "You might be bigger than her, but you're not bigger than me. I think you need to be reminded to keep your hands to yourself!"

My mother's eyes shot to mine.

"I was telling Artyom I wasn't interested, but before I got it out, he kissed me. I pushed him away and told him I only wanted friendship, but he tried to grab me again, and Dimitri saw."

Mom looked annoyed, but Stan sized up the situation, quickly appreciating my Russian God was not going to back down without getting the opportunity to prove his point.

"Competition rules. No hits to the face. The winner will be the first to stake the other three times," Alto declared, standing to the side of the ring preparing to adjudicate.

Dimitri stood inside the ring, rolling his shoulders. Without his shirt on, we were all free to see his magnificent rippling muscles, and I'd be lying if said I didn't use the opportunity to take a long, hard look at the man I loved. Artyom also had his shirt off, and while he was muscled too, he looked like a boy compared to the manly Dimitri.

"On three," Stan instructed, counting the guys in.

The rest of us stood watching as Dimitri pinned Artyom in about four seconds. The poor kid didn't have a chance. He made one move, and Dimitri had him to the ground, faux staking him.

"Again," Alto announced. Dimitri stood back, not offering the younger man his hand as he awkwardly scrambled to his feet.

This time Dimitri went straight on the offensive, spinning Artyom and staking him from behind before the lad had a chance to make a move.

"Dead," Dimitri announced in a dispassionate voice.

"Dead," Alto agreed. "Again."

The third time, Dimitri let Artyom take the offensive, deflecting the young Dhampir's blows easily - the way one would swat an annoying fly. While his face gave nothing away, I could see my Russian God analyzing the other man's fighting style, always one step in front. After letting him exhaust himself, Dimitri made his move, tripping him and sending him tumbling to the ground. With a move that was deceptively elegant, Dimitri dropped beside him, shoving one knee firmly into the younger man's back, forcing his face into the grass.

"Dead," Dimitri said, rising smoothly. "Next time a lady says no, I suggest you listen," he growled to Artyom. "Make your peace with, Rose. I'm going for a drive," he announced, striding inside. Moments later we heard the front door slam and the engine of one of the vehicles roar.

Elizaveta raced to her brother's side, helping him up from the grass. She was seething, but he just looked embarrassed.

"What the hell caused Belikov to react like that?" my mother demanded, looking first to Artyom then to me.

"He's really funny about the way men treat women," I said, trying to explain away his reaction without causing more suspicion. "He has three sisters in a Dhampir settlement. I think it might be because of them?"

"That's right," Eddie chimed in. "He took one of our classes once, and Dean was mucking around and slapped Chelsea on the ass. Guardian Belikov almost blew a gasket. He made Dean run around the oval for two hours after school before lecturing him for an hour about respecting women." It was a bit of an exaggeration, but I can remember Dimitri had been far from impressed and made sure Dean knew it.

"As well he should," my mother replied in a frosty tone, giving Artyom an arch look. "I think we can all go back inside now."

Artyom and Elizaveta were having a whispered argument in Russian. She turned and gave me a scathing look before following Blake and Meredith inside. Artyom dallied trying to catch me alone, but Eddie was loitering, too. I gave him a little head shake to tell him it was ok. I couldn't see Artyom trying anything after Dimitri had just humiliated him by handing him his ass.

"Rose. I was wrong about your feelings. I'm sorry," he said blushing and not meeting my eyes.

"Just don't try it again," I said. "Unlike Belikov, I'll smack you in the face if you do," I warned.

"I'll remember that. You have an efficient right hook," he said with an attempt at humor.

"That I do," I said giving him a small smile.

Eddie and I were alone in the kitchen making bread when Dimitri arrived back almost two hours later. He came in carrying a couple of bags of groceries.

"There's more in the trunk," he told Eddie, canting his head to tell him to get out there to fetch it.

"All good, Roza?" Dimitri asked softly as soon as Eddie had left.

"You didn't need to do that Comrade," I rebuked. "I can look after myself you know."

"It wasn't the kiss that upset me. It was when he tried to grab you after you'd said no."

"I could have handled it," I reiterated.

"I know," he said, handing me a quart of ice cream in silent apology. Choc peanut brittle. I don't even know how he knew it was my favorite. I smiled at his peace offering. He must have driven all the way to Sheridan and back. He'd done well to get it here without it melting in the sun.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Comrade?" I whisper laughed, grabbing a spoon.

"Once or twice," he said with a grin. "You intending to share that?" he asked.

"I hadn't planned to," I admitted, wrapping my arm around it protectively.

"Lucky I bought some for the rest of us then, isn't it?" he laughed, taking some bags from Eddie as he brought them through them into the kitchen.

Dimitri placed another eight tubs of ice cream on the table. There were various flavors, and he took a careful look before choosing a choc chip one for himself. Eddie claimed a cookies and cream tub before putting his head out the door into the corridor and shouting, "Belikov's back and he's brought ice cream. Come get it before Rose scoffs it all!"

There was the trampling of feet as everyone descended on the kitchen. Mom grabbed a strawberries and cream tub, snatching it out from beneath Blake's nose. Within minutes we were all seated at the kitchen table enjoying our unexpected treat, the unpleasantness of the morning forgotten.

Rose. I am coming to America for business next week. I can come to where you are if you're free to meet? Abe

I stared at the message again. It had arrived while I was chopping wood with Blake. I'd come upstairs to get ready for a theory session with Mom and Eddie and there it was.

This was all happening so quickly. We'd gone from first phone call to potentially meeting up with my Moroi father in less than a week. Now the opportunity to meet was there, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. What if he didn't like me? What if I didn't like him?

I couldn't just ignore the message. While it could be coincidental Abe had business in this part of the world, I had to wonder whether his visit was primarily to meet me.

I hadn't told anyone about getting in touch with my father. I'd been going to talk to Eddie, but hadn't found the right time. Lissa was out. Even though we spoke on the phone weekly, she didn't even know where I was, exactly, and had no idea there were Alchemists, let alone what they did and that I was guarding one of their facilities. And I couldn't tell Dimitri without admitting why I'd broken into the Alchemist's building – a topic we were both assiduously avoiding. So I'd kept my interactions with Abe to myself.

Looking at the message a final time, I tapped back; I'll be in Sheridan next weekend, Saturday and Sunday. Can you make lunch on Saturday?

I plugged my phone back into charge, taking the stairs two at a time, heading into the study Mom was using as her office and sitting in front of her desk beside Eddie.

"Today I'm going to take you through filling out Guardian paperwork," she said with an apologetic smile. "Rosemarie, I know you've completed paperwork for your kills previously, but I'm afraid that's just the tip of the iceberg."

She pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, placing them one by one on the desk in front of her and explaining what each was for and when we might expect to have to use it. She was right. Apparently, Guardians had paperwork for just about everything! I sat there half listening, instead wondering about what occurred between her and Abe.

He sounded so much more open and impulsive than my rigid, rule-driven mother. I couldn't picture how they'd worked. From the little I knew either of them, they seemed like polar opposites.

Two hours later, Eddie and I had reached saturation point. We followed Mom into the kitchen where she was about to start making lunch. Sandwiches. Again.

"Mom?" I suggested sweetly, "there are lots of leftovers we should use up. Why don't Eddie and I put together lunch while you relax a bit?"

"That's very thoughtful, thank you, Rosemarie," my mother replied, escaping without a backward glance.

"Thank Vlad," Eddie laughed walking to the fridge to investigate what we could turn into lunch. "I couldn't take another day of sandwiches!"

We worked quietly side-by-side, heating up leftovers and piling meats and cheeses into impromptu antipasto platters, but I could see there was something on Eddie's mind.

"Care to share?" I asked after he'd sighed for the third time.

"It's nothing," he said in a tone of voice that meant it was something.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," I said, lifting myself to sit on the butcher's block counter and looking him squarely in the eyes.

He frowned. "I just wonder whether we're going to be ready. Artyom's meant to be the best male Novice at St. Basil's and Dimitri completely owned him this morning. I'm apparently the highest ranked male Novice at St. Vlad's and the two times I've encountered Strigoi I've been a hostage and you've had to save me. I just feel hopelessly unprepared for what I'm going to face out there."

I'd never thought about it, but he was right. We'd been held hostage in Spokane, and he was one of the ones taken in the school attack, too. The sad thing was, I knew for Eddie it wasn't about ego. His confidence in his ability to succeed in his career had been shaken, and that was a hard thing to regain.

"Eddie you're going to rock being a Guardian," I argued, trying to come up with the words to reassure him. "You're smart, dedicated, diligent and you care about the Moroi you protect. You were captured at the school because you wouldn't back down. You could have left the Moroi you were protecting and saved yourself, but you didn't. You put everything into it, even putting yourself in additional danger."

"But I wasn't good enough, was I? I know Guardian lives are short. I know I'll probably die protecting my charge," Eddie said bleakly. "I just want to be good enough to make a difference," he finished softly.

"You will be," Dimitri said, coming in through the mud room and catching the last of our conversation. He clapped his arm around Eddie's shoulder. "Roza? You ok to finish setting up lunch? Castile and I are going to go look for more firewood."

There was plenty of wood. More than enough for the time being, but I knew Dimitri was taking Eddie out for a chat to give him the sort of reassurance I couldn't. Dimitri was legitimately the voice of experience, while still young enough that Eddie could relate to him. I watched the two of them wander off into the trees surrounding the house as I stirred the contents of several saucepans on the stovetop.

I laughed at me cooking lunch for six. Yeah, it was only reheats, but I'd become surprisingly adept at finding my way around the kitchen. I'd never be a chef, but thanks to Dimitri, if I ever had to take Lissa on the run again, we wouldn't have to survive on pop-tarts and pizza pockets. Not that there was anything wrong with them, of course!

"Where's Castile?" Mom asked, wandering in to check on the status of lunch.

"He's outside with Dimitri. Eddie's feeling a bit freaked out about graduating, so Dimitri's talking with him."

Mom nodded sagely.

"So are you still hoping to guard Vasilisa?" Mom inquired, watching me carefully.

"That's the plan," I said blithely.

"Well, you could do a lot worse than being partnered with Belikov. He'll teach you a lot."

I nearly wet myself until I twigged she meant partnered in a guarding sense.

"Yeah. He's great, and we get along well. I've learned heaps from him already." Mom looked thoughtful, and I was getting a little worried about the direction of her thoughts. "Who was your first guarding partner?" I asked quickly.

"Oh – I wasn't assigned to a high-risk Moroi. I didn't have a guarding partner, and my first charge was a cantankerous Tarus in his eighties. He flitted from warded property to property in Europe, vacationing with other elderly Royals. My only life-saving task was keeping track of his medications!"

"That must have been disappointing?" I mused, trying to imagine a younger version of my mother pandering to a capricious octogenarian.

"It was as dull as dishwater," my Mom said with a small laugh. "But they would all be in bed by 8 am, which gave the other Guardians and me a chance to relax a bit," Mom chuckled. Personally, I found the idea of my mother relaxing hard to picture, but she'd been eighteen. My age.

"So where were you based?" I continued, trying to pump her for as much information as I could.

"We were all over the place. We started in London and were there for six months, and then he headed to the continent. That was the done thing in those days," she explained. "Wealthy American Royals would do their final 'European Tour,' visiting the motherland."

"To see where their families came from?"

"Well, that was the idea, although it was mostly an excuse to flit from party to party," Mom snorted. "After London, we spent time in Luxembourg, then Frankfurt, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Bucharest, Sofia and then Istanbul."

My mother had a funny expression on her face; lost in memories of a time long gone.

"Even with an elderly charge, it must have been fun to go to all those cities?" I coaxed.

"I loved it," she agreed. "I never traveled as a bairn. Until I graduated, the furthest I'd been was the odd school trip to London. Seeing the old cities was magical. We'd take it in turns going out into the wee hours after our charges were asleep," Mom confided. "Half the time I was dead on my feet the next day! Not that that was an appropriate thing to do," she added, quickly realizing what she'd said.

"They were within wards," I said giving her a little shrug. "Which was your favorite city?"

"Budapest or Istanbul. They were both so different to anything I knew."

"Istanbul? That's where you met my father?"

"No. I met him in Bucharest."

She'd answered me before she'd really thought about it. Suddenly her eyes were guarded, and her mouth was shut. I knew there'd be no more answers from her today. Trying not to make her even more defensive, I moved the conversation forward.

"I really want to see Paris and Amsterdam. Lissa used to go to Europe every summer when her parents were alive, and they're her favorite places. Every summer she'd bring me back miniature Eiffel Tower figurines and decorative clogs. I still have them in a box back at the academy. She made both places sound so cool – I can't wait to check them out."

"Well if you're allocated to her, you'll be at her mercy. Where she goes, you'll go."

"I know. She's already planning to honeymoon in France, so Paris is looking good," I laughed.

"Honeymoon? Is she that serious with the Ozera lad?" Mom asked with pursed lips. "They're very young…"

"Yeah. I think they'll marry sooner rather than later. He's good for her. It's been hard for her since her family died. They were really tight."

Mom didn't say anything for a moment.

"Yes. They were a wonderful family. Rhea was a very caring woman, and I shouldn't have said what I did about her the other day," Mom owned quietly. "I didn't mean what I said."

"Ok," I said tightly, declaring the topic closed. But in my mind, I thought she hadn't insulted Rhea with her words. The insults had been aimed at me.