"That's your car?"

Eric answered with a grin, hefting her suitcase into the back and placing it next to a larger, sleek bag.

"This? This is your car?"

It was a cherry-coloured Corvette, open top, and while her knowledge of vehicles was limited to make and colour, there was no doubt in her mind that this shiny beast was a very expensive car indeed.

Eric lifted Emilia into the passenger seat, as effortlessly as he had her suitcase, and she ignored the tingling in her entire body at his touch, enjoying the feel of the fine leather interior instead. As they pulled away from her complex, leaving her car sitting in its spot, Emilia felt a little giddy. Also thankful that Eric had requested she braid her hair, the air was moving fast around them. Eric didn't seem to worry about the speed limit.

Emilia sensed his excitement and joy as he sat next to her, driving with one hand, and when he reached out the other large appendage to stroke her arm she let him. Her skin buzzed like hornets; alight and inflamed.

"Eric, do you really think that we'll get answers in Dallas?"

It seemed an impossible, wild thing - this connection. These staggering sensations. Unreal and all too real. Daydream and nightmare. How could there be an answer so simple it was a mere hour-flight away?

"If anyone can help it is Godric." He removed his hand, with some reluctance. "He is more than twice my age, and extremely... worldly."

Emilia felt a pang of wistfulness from Eric; something that brushed up against love. There was concern there, and a great deal of deference. Whoever this ancient being was, Godric, Eric cared for him deeply.

"I have developed a theory of my own, however ..."

"A theory you care to share?" She asked.

"Perhaps," he spared her a glance before turning back to the road. "Tell me, do you have siblings Emilia?"

"No, my parents couldn't conceive. Before me, I mean. They were in their forties when they had me, they'd long given up hope that they would have kids ..."

"And they lived in Sweden before you were born?"

"They moved here when my mother was pregnant with me."

"I see. Twenty-two years ago?"

"That's right ..." She hesitated, trying to determine what he was feeling. Eric's face was ever a mask of passivity. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I might keep my theory to myself for a while longer."

"That seems fair ..." Emilia grumbled.

Eric's grin was his only response, and they lapsed into an almost comfortable silence.

He reached out, and this time Emilia slid her hand into his. She was more curious than keen, more submissive than willing, but she couldn't help but marvel at the marble of his skin. His hands were faultless alabaster, with no whorls or indents detectable by her own, far smaller hands. She circled his palm with the tip of her finger, a slow ring-a-ring-a-Rosie, and he sighed. At their contact, the frantic, unabated frenzy of their blood was a calm sea - appeased.

"Do you feel that?" Emilia asked, and he clasped his hand tighter and the painful cold of his touch began to give way to a heady pleasure. She felt ice shards in her veins splinter, the blood coalescing to settle; gently warmed and bubbling like Champagne. She felt, no, saw a radiant light of sun and stars and something like the glint of metal and wood. A shield? A sword? A war cry and then singing she couldn't discern. But it was beautiful and oddly familiar. Her eyes sprung open, she hadn't known she'd closed them, and Eric was staring at her.

"I can feel your emotions so acutely, it's almost as if I could read your mind."

"What did you see?"

Before she could answer they were pulling into a private airfield. It was almost empty, unsurprising for ten on a Monday night, but a small gleaming plane sat waiting for them. Anubis Airlines was stenciled on its white side, and Emilia recognised the name from the news, noting it as the first airline catering exclusively to vampires and their guests.

Despite being the only passengers in evidence, there were several, well-dressed crew members there to greet them. Eric was far richer than Emilia had considered, and the Corvette and smart suits made more sense with that realisation. A thousand years was a long time to accrue wealth after all.

Eric parked the car just beyond the expanse of tarmac, and a baggage handler rushed over to them, hefting the suitcases out the backseat with a grunt of effort.

"I'm a little nervous," Emilia admitted, greeting the flight attendants who stood at the steps leading up to the plane with a nod as they said "Mr. Northman, Miss Claesson," in unison. She was glad of the distraction. Answering Eric when he inevitably questioned her about what she'd seen would be challenging. What had she seen? She was unsure, uneasy, and when he touched her again, unsteady.

"Of flying? I can tell," Eric said, pressing to her lower back so she would ascend the steps ahead of him.

"Oh no, I love flying," she replied, wondering if Eric could see up her skirt from his vantage point below her on the stairs and aware that he was at least getting a decent view of her naked back due to the cut of the dress. "This is just ... So odd."

The interior of the plane was white and gleaming - almost sterile. Eric steered her towards a vast, comfortable double seat, seating himself opposite and monopolising all the legroom. Emilia plopped her backpack onto the empty seat next to her and jumped when a flight attendant swept up to them, offering beverages. Soon Eric was sipping slowly on a bottle of Tru Blood, the synthetic drink of choice amongst most vampires according to an ad campaign that had just been running, and Emilia was clasping a juice, knowing that alcohol was the last thing she needed with the current, wobbly state of her stomach.

The captain's professional voice greeted them over the speaker, requesting they fasten their seat belts, which Emilia did and Eric didn't, and Emilia sat back to attempt to relax and enjoy the takeoff. The silence was almost comfortable, and in the air-conditioned, cabin air she could pretend like the current of static between the vampire and her wasn't there. Of course, shortly after take-off, Eric began rubbing her bare leg with his clothed one, and Emilia glowered at him, considering switching seats.

"Come and sit here," he said, placing his drink on the side table curbing their seats, and patting his lap.

"Really Eric? On a plane?"

Emilia gritted her teeth. The idea of him holding her was growing more appealing as her nerves continued to mount, but she was determined to fight any, and all, of her baser urges. Such as the sudden need to be close to him. Dallas could provide them with answers about this bond, and now that they were on our way she wasn't sure she wanted them. Eric's declaration on the first night they'd met, a mere 48 hours ago, that Emilia was something more than human, had continued to plague her. The idea that he could be right, that there might be something wrong or abnormal about her was disturbing. Emilia knew that physical contact with him, while it provided its own uncomfortable array of sensations, might be a pleasant distraction, and while she took the time to mull over her options Eric leaned forward, unclipping the belt from her waist and lifting her onto his lap.

"That's pretty rude, you know?" Emilia said after a beat, adjusting her skirt so that it covered most of her pale thighs, which were now straddling his.

"Is that so?" His eyes glinted with humour and he pulled her closer to nestle his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling.

He didn't seem to care about providing any kind of comfort for Emilia, who was so nervous she was twitching and so consumed with the current of electricity running between them that she had to struggle to breathe, but rather sought a sort of strange state of relaxation. His large fingers traced patterns up and down her bare back, pausing now and then to rub at one of her vertebrae or a bony rib. Emilia was hyper-aware of not only how skinny she was, but how fragile she must seem to him. The quickening energy between them was blinding all her senses. It mingled with the coolness of his touch until every one of her nerves was frayed, all the tension in her body swept away by pure sensation. It was both painful and pleasurable to be in such close contact with him, and Emilia couldn't bring herself to pull away after days of trying to fight the urge to be as near to him as possible. The heat between them grew, and Emilia sensed his wants, so intertwined with her own emotions that she wasn't sure who the intensity came from first.

Just as he reached up a hand to tug Emilia's chin towards him, her mouth towards his, she slid off his lap, sitting back in her seat and doing the safety belt up with a trembling hand.

Eric sighed but didn't pull her towards him again, and the worst part was Emilia didn't know if that pleased her or not.

She skimmed one of her paperbacks without much interest, occasionally looking up at Eric from under her lashes to see him fiddling with his phone. Emilia didn't see him look at her for the remainder of the trip, but after their descent, he took her hand and helped her up without comment. He slung her little backpack over his immense shoulder and exited the plane ahead of her, moving to the back of the aircraft to collect their bags from where the baggage handler was already waiting with them.

"Eric?" Emilia asked, scampering after him as fast as she could. She'd felt the shift in his mood, from one of childish glee to something akin to agitation that was plainly directed at her.

A limousine was waiting for them, the driver standing by the rear door. He greeted Eric by name and helped him stow the bags in the boot of the vehicle.

"Eric!" Emilia finally caught up to him, just as the driver was opening the door of the limo for her. "Can you please talk to me?"

"Get in, Emilia," he said in reply, all but shoving her into the back of the vehicle and sliding in afterwards.

"Did I upset you?" She asked after a pause, the car beneath them rumbling to life. The limo interior, like that of Eric's Corvette and the private plane they'd just flown in, was stylish, and Emilia took a moment to look around her. She'd never been in a limo before, not even for prom.

Eric slid closer to her and she noticed the roll of tension in his shoulders and the air crackling around them, spiking with the anger that Emilia could feel in her very pores.

"Listen to me, Miss Claesson." He grasped her wrist in his immense hand. "I cannot deny this … Connection between us." His grip tightened and the blood in Emilia's arm felt like it was going to leap out of her skin.

She bit back a gasp.

"But do not mistake the bond I feel with you, or the ways in which I desire you …" His icy gaze trailed up her legs and landed on her neck. "For anything like kindness. I am not someone who is used to being refused."

He released her wrist, and Emilia pulled it to her chest, rubbing the bruise that had already formed there.

A flicker of something like regret flashed in his blue eyes, but as soon Emilia thought she could feel the brewing emotion, it was snuffed out, replaced by the typical temperamental blazes of heat raging between them.

"We will be at Godric's nest soon," Eric said as if to change the subject. "He has requested to meet you immediately."

"His nest?"

"Where a collective of vampires live together."

"So, we'll meet multiple vampires then?" This idea seemed less and less appealing all the time.

"You will be safe with me, Emilia," Eric said, rolling his eyes at her anxiety.

"You know … Considering you just told me that you don't really care about me I find that hard to believe."

"That lack of feeling appears to be mutual. From the minute you saw me I have felt almost nothing but fear and hatred from you."

"Why would I feel anything else?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Excuse me?" Emilia resisted the urge to gawp at him.

"Emilia … I know that your experience with vampires, and men, is limited." Eric sniffed, and she wondered again if he could smell her virginity. "But by our standards, I have treated you in an exemplary fashion."

"So, the threatening then? The tossing me around like a rag-doll?"

"Have I bitten you? Taken you?" He closed the distance on the wide back seat between them again, this time monitoring Emilia's reactions, and gingerly touched her wrist where he had bruised it.

"Taken me?"

Eric wiggled an eyebrow.

"Oh …"

"Surprisingly you were right, I have no urge to take anything from you that is not freely given. And that is confusing to me, to say the least. But I am not known for my patience Emilia …"

"I gathered as much," Emilia said, enjoying the tender ministrations of his thumb against my wrist despite her better judgment. She worried that she was already growing addicted to his touch and the way it would spark her like electricity.

"Whatever this is, this pull and longing …" He tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger there. "I know you feel it as strongly as I do. I know you want me."

"I don't even know what wanting someone means," Emilia said. "I don't know what any of this means."

"I am sure that Godric will be able to tell us."

The energy around them wavered.

"I can tell you are lying," Emilia said with a grin, and she placed her hand over his where it was still stroking her ear. It was a startling revelation, to be able to detect something like a white lie not because of his tone, which betrayed nothing, but rather whatever it was that bound them together.

"But I'm kind of glad you are. I don't think I can handle the idea of not knowing what this is for the rest of my life."

The skin where their hands met was alight like an electrical current, and despite her fatigued state and the deep pit of anxiety in her stomach, Emilia felt strangely renewed and relaxed for the first time since he'd held her on the plane.

Her eyes flashed at him.

"Did you do that?"

Eric shrugged.

"Merely an experiment, it seems to have worked." He raised his head, withdrawing his hand with one final stroke of her hair, and sat up straighter. "We're here now, sweetling."

The limousine rolled to a gentle halt, and Eric opened the rear passenger door, sliding out of the vehicle in a blur. The door on Emilia's side of the limo was pulled open, the looming shape of the Viking vampire obscuring the view behind him as he extended a hand. The skirt of her dress rode up a little as she exited the limo as gracefully as she could with legs like jelly and she ignored the twitch of Eric's mouth at the sight of her pale upper thighs. Emilia had never thought of her legs, or indeed any part of her body, as particularly attractive, or at the least sexually appealing, but Eric didn't seem to agree with that line of thinking.

The limo driver was dashing up the path to the simply monstrous house that stood before them, depositing their bags near the engraved, double doors. What Emilia could see of the white and grey building itself was modern and stately, and behind her, she could make out a long winding driveway, as well as what appeared to be a large fence edging the property. It seemed like Eric's elite and wealthy status was not unusual amongst vampires.

Eric placed a hand on her lower back, thumbing the naked skin he found there, and steered her towards the house, ignoring the nod of the limo driver as he headed back to the parked vehicle. A female vampire was waiting for them at the now-open doors. She was dressed in fitted, bootleg pants and a black silky blouse, her shiny dark hair swept into a tasteful French twist at the back of her head. She was very glamorous, and Emilia felt, not for the first time, painfully, plainly human in the presence of a vamp.

"Eric," she said with a curt nod that he returned. "And you must be the woman that has everyone in such a state. I'm Isabel." She considered Emilia, her expression not unkind, but merely curious, and Emilia let out a small breath of relief.

"Godric is waiting in the council room, the double doors at the end of the hall," Isabel said, stepping aside to welcome them in. She picked up the bags herself, closed the doors behind them and disappeared somewhere down a wide expanse of sparsely decorated white hallway.

As soon as they stepped inside Emilia could feel her blood temperature rising to the point where she was almost feverish. Eric seemed to perceive the change in her and spared her a worried look before leading her, hand on shoulder, in the opposite direction to Isabel. They stopped at another set of doors and he turned to her, brushing the pad of his index finger along her cheek.

"Ready?"

Emilia nodded once, although she wasn't sure if she was. Something was going on, there was another presence she could sense even more keenly than the way she could feel Eric, but before she could voice her concerns, Eric pulled open the large doors.

The council room was narrow and long, decorated in the same minimal, white style as the rest of the house from what she'd seen, and while there was another vampire there too Emilia's eyes were immediately drawn to the figure seated in a large white chair at the other end of the room.

"Dad?" She gasped out after a pregnant pause.

Eric paled, if that were possible, his gaze flicking from the dark-haired vampire to Emilia's torn expression.

"Stan, leave us," the young-looking vampire, who Emilia assumed was Godric, said, rising from his chair and walking across the room towards them. The other vamp, who was clad in the most cliché cowboy outfit Emilia had ever seen outside of old '70s Western movies, stepped around Eric where he'd fallen into a low bow at Godric's approach.

The door closed behind him and Emilia was overwhelmed by the sheer waves of energy coming off Godric as he neared them. Her knees buckled under her and she saw rather than felt the floorboards beneath her hands as she crawled towards Godric, unable to breathe or pull away from him.

Her nails tore in the grain of the floor, and she and Godric met each other halfway across the room, her nose brushing his bare feet and the cuff of his loose linen pants. This was the other being she had been aware of since their arrival at the nest, and their proximity felt as though it would suffocate her.

"Rise my child," he said, his accent impossible to place, and Emilia accepted the hand he offered without thought. Her skin burned at his cold touch and she let out a choked scream, pulling away as fast as she could and standing back, although the mere effort to not let her body wrench forward to his left her panting. Emilia's palm was flushed red with the blood rushing to the surface of her skin.

"Son. Bror," Godric said to Eric, who was now at Emilia's side even though she hadn't seen or heard him move. "Our suspicions were correct."

"Are you sure?"

"Of this I am."

Emilia collapsed again, and she reached for Eric's arm to stop her fall.

"What's going on?" She asked with a stammer, meeting Godric's eyes.

He was short, although still taller than she was, and didn't look a day over eighteen, another similarity they shared. His hair was dark and cropped, his features wide and handsome. She saw the hint of a tattoo peaking beneath the collar of his soft-looking white shirt.

"You thought I was your father, child?" He asked when she'd managed to pull herself up with Eric's assistance.

"No ... Well I mean, yes. You look a lot like him when he was younger. And it was ... A feeling," Emilia finished lamely, looking to Eric for help as she searched for more words. His face still retained its shocked expression.

"I know exactly what you mean," Godric offered with a small smile.

"Can someone please explain what is going on?" Irritation raised her voice, the effort to not throw herself onto Godric becoming impossible to fight.

"I think it would be in the best interests of everyone if I spoke to Eric alone." Godric's lip was twitching, but his face was an otherwise impassive mask, dark eyes, silvery and mercurial like Emilia's own she noticed, swirling with unspoken emotion.

"I can feel your pain, Emilia."

She began to argue, but with two involuntary steps forward that felt like they might break her bones as her very blood was being dragged towards the vampire in front of her, Emilia slumped against Eric. The pull her blood experienced touching him was a blessed relief compared to what she was feeling in Godric's presence.

"Isabel," he said, and she was suddenly at Godric's side, the swing of the door the only indication she'd even entered the room and had not been standing in it all along.

"Isabel please accompany Emilia to her room. Bring her anything she may need," Godric said and Isabel reached for Emilia's hand without comment at her weakened and feverish appearance. Eric seemed reluctant to release Emilia from where she was practically hanging off him, but with one final squeeze, he allowed Isabel to lead her away. The tension and pain in her body didn't start to abate until they were halfway down the hallway, and Emilia breathed a sigh of relief, to which Isabel raised an eyebrow.

"This is your room," she said, pausing at a door. "I have already put your bag in there. Would you like some food? We have a well-stocked kitchen for humans here."

"I am a little hungry," Emilia admitted. "But I can go get something ..."

"Please," she said, holding up a slender hand. "You look like you need as much rest as you can get." She opened the door to the room for her and whizzed away.

Emilia's legs were still a little shaky, but she kicked off her flats in the corner and surveyed the neat room and the expensive-looking silk bedding that she ran her hands over. Her bag was sitting next to the bed unopened, and Emilia was both happy and disappointed, a feeling she tried not to fixate on, that Eric's bag wasn't also in the room.

Just as she was rifling through her mini backpack, that she'd somehow managed to hang onto, searching for her phone, Isabel returned, knocking on the open door first. She passed over the soft carpet floor, placing a tray onto the top of the bedspread. Emilia smiled in thanks, inspecting it with interest; an assortment of fresh fruits, chopped and presented, a few crackers and some soft cheese.

"Did you know I don't eat meat?" Emilia asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

Isabel smiled.

"My human, Hugo, is a vegetarian and smells sweet just like you. I guessed."

"Huh, I never thought about vampires smelling what people eat."

"It's normally not very practical, but I am glad I could provide this for you."

"All the windows in the hallway ... How do you all live here?" Emilia asked, taking advantage of Isabel's relaxed attitude which was refreshing for a vampire.

"They are UV-protected glass, an expensive but worthwhile investment. As you can see," she gestured around the room they were in. "The bedrooms do not have windows, they are completely light-tight and secure."

"Does, uh Hugo live here too?" After a few nights with vampires for company Emilia was pretty eager to see another human.

"He has his own home," she said with a smile. "But I daresay you will see him tomorrow night, he is with me quite often. Goodnight Miss Claesson."

She ended the conversation in a curt, but not unfriendly manner, turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Emilia picked at the plate of food, unable to eat much, but appreciative of it nonetheless, and went to the ensuite bathroom to wash the makeup from her face and brush her teeth, using the toiletries in her bag. The bathroom was stocked with toilet paper, and all manner of bath products, and while she was tempted to have a shower fatigue was beginning to stagger her. She sent some quick text messages to Everly, Lisa and Hayes, all of whom had messaged her with various questions about the mysterious, sudden trip, and went to search for something to sleep in.

Emilia knew she shouldn't have trusted Eric with packing the bags. Aside from the fact that every item of underwear he had put in the suitcase was the most skimpy and frilly pieces she owned, he had failed to pack a single article of sleep-wear. Eventually, Emilia had to settle for the largest t-shirt the vampire had placed in the suitcase and underpants that were little more than lace and she cursed Eric for what she was sure was a very deliberate choice on his part.

As Emilia turned out the light and tucked herself into the blankets that were even more comfortable than they had looked, she recalled the way Eric had flooded the bond between them with comforting, calming feelings while they were in the limo. Grinning, Emilia tried to focus in on the vibrated links of energy they shared, sending as much repressed frustration and annoyance his way as she could. Once she was satisfied that he would have felt her irritation, she curled up amongst the soft bedding, falling asleep within moments.

Emilia sighed, a comforting cool arm sliding over her side as an air-light kiss lingered on her neck. She reached up and wound a hand into thick, soft hair, enjoying the tingling sensations the dream was creating on her skin and in some deep, private part of her. A large hand was brushing over her stomach, stroking her repetitively until she was mewling and rubbing up against the body beside her.

"So forthcoming tonight, Emilia." Eric's purring voice ripped her out of the dream state, his fingers grazing lower to the top of her underwear.

"Oh my god, Eric!" Emilia shrieked, pushing away from his rock-hard form until she fell off the other side of the bed, landing on the floor with a bump.

"What are you doing in my bed?"

He was so pale, and his teeth so blindingly white that she could still see him in the dark of the room, grinning like a Cheshire cat where he lay on the bed.

"Don't be coy. I felt you sending me all that agitation. Very mean of you." He waggled a finger at her.

"I just wanted to see if it would work."

Emilia stood up and switched on the bedside lamp, before giving her backside a rub, tender from where she'd fallen. A clicking sound drew her gaze to Eric, who was lying propped up on one arm in the bed, which he still managed to fill despite its larger-than-average size, and staring at her with something that could only be described as hunger.

Emilia glanced down at her spindly, naked legs and revealing panties.

"You look so very, very good when you are blushing," Eric said from between his extended fangs, patting the space on the bed next to him

Emilia pulled her shirt down over the tops of her thighs.

"Thanks for your considerate packing by the way."

Eric's grin widened.

"Come to bed älskare. Don't you want me to tell you what Godric said? There are still a few hours before dawn ..."

At the mention of Godric's name, Emilia's hands began to tingle.

"No touching, okay?" She said, sliding into the bed next to him and keeping as much distance between them as possible.

"Oh god. Eric are you ... Naked?"

He lifted the sheet to show her the boxers that covered at least part of him, but Emilia saw a lot more muscular stomach than she'd anticipated, and an unexpected wave of lust rolled through her.

Eric groaned.

"If you want me to talk to you and not ravish you right now then you are going to have to stop having so many ... Feelings."

"I'm not the one going around sneaking into people's beds for late-night snuggling."

"Fair point," he said, moving a little closer.

"Enough Eric! Gosh, you're insufferable. Just tell me what Godric said so I can sleep."

"I cannot repeat all of it. There are some things that only Godric himself can tell you."

"If I can stand being close enough to him to make conversation ..." Emilia said bitterly.

"It was not easy for him either Emilia."

"He wasn't the one crawling across the floor like a shaking mess or calling anyone 'Dad'" She groaned.

"Godric is very powerful. He has remarkable control that could never be expected of a human." He paused. "He is also my maker."

The word hung between them, Eric's hooded gaze indicating its importance, although it took Emilia a moment to discern what 'maker' could mean.

"You mean ... He turned you into a vampire?"

"Yes, we have shared everything for centuries. And ... We share his blood."

"Do you mean … The 'you and me' we?"

Eric was silent as Emilia laughed.

"You just said for yourself Eric, I'm a human! I don't have any of his blood." She took a moment to rejoice at the confirmation of her human status.

"You are mostly human. That's why you are so drawn to him, and me. That's why you can call Pam, send me your feelings. Why we can feel each other's emotions." He reached out a hand to clasp hers, breaking the no-touching rule.

"I cannot explain it all to you, but you weren't far off when you thought he was your father. Dozens of generations off, but still." Eric smiled, a hint of sadness playing in his ice-chip eyes that Emilia noted with a pang of shared sorrow.

"So, we're related? That seems … Unlikely."

"Extremely."

"And I mean, how old was Godric when he became a vampire anyway? Like seventeen? He had a kid before then?"

"He did not," Eric said, his voice weighted with the implication.

"Is that possible? To have babies as a vampire or get anyone pregnant?" Emilia had never even considered the idea, which struck her as kind of gross and had certainly never heard of anything like that happening.

"Not historically, that we know of. However, there are myths of such things occurring in almost every culture in the world. One that Godric suspects is at play here …"

"Which is?"

Eric squeezed her hand tightly.

"Eric, please, what's going on? Is there something wrong with me?"

"You are perfect, silly child," he said smiling. "But these are things Godric needs to tell you. We will work something out so that you aren't too uncomfortable."

"So, my blood, it … Draws me to Godric. And you, because you have his blood? And Pam because she has yours?"

"In short yes, and it works the other way too. Godric's blood is my blood, I recognise it in you. It compels me to you like nothing else …"

"Can Godric call you like I did Pam the other night?"

"Oh yes."

"So, it's kind of like you're my maker then without me being a vampire."

"The bond is similar," Eric said with consideration. "Although the connection we share is far more …" He drifted off, entwining their fingers. "Tell me, the pull you feel towards Godric, is it sexual?"

"Eric!" Emilia yanked her hand away.

"I'm merely curious Emilia, it may help us to figure some of this out."

She thought for a moment before choosing her words with care.

"No … No it isn't like that. He does look like my father, or at least how my dad looked forty years and about 5000 beers ago."

Eric chuckled.

"But it feels that way. That kind of, familial relationship, you know?"

"And with me?"

"I don't think of you as my dad Eric!"

"And thank goodness for that." His voice was low, and his fangs were extended again, so white they appeared to glow. Without thinking Emilia reached out to touch one with the tip of a finger, feeling the hard dentine beneath her skin.

Eric groaned, closing his eyes and opening his mouth at the contact.

"I'm sorry, was that a faux pas? I just wanted to know what they felt like."

"I think …" He sat up so that he was raised above her, dangerously, feverishly close. "That if you are not ready for me to have you tonight then I need to leave."

"And by 'have me,' you mean …?"

Eric slid one large hand up the entire length of her thigh, pressing his naked chest to her while holding his weight up with his free hand.

"By have you I mean fuck you until the dawn forces me to stop."

Emilia gasped as his mouth captured hers, his lips soft and cold and his fangs hard and colder still.

Her entire body thrummed to life, alight from toes to hair as Eric kissed her reverently with tongue and teeth and grabbing hands. It was both the best and worst kiss she'd ever had. Emilia's blood ached, forcing her body to press up against Eric's as he lowered himself onto her, pushing her legs apart with his knee so he could settle in between them. Emilia felt something very large, and very hard pressing between her thighs, in a place that no one had ever touched her before.

"No Eric! Wait!" She pulled her face away and tried to push him off her, but he was as hard and immovable as a boulder, rolling his hips up into hers and moving his lips and tongue to lathe at her neck and down to her clavicles.

His fangs scraped along the base of Emilia's neck, not quite hard enough to draw blood, and she felt not only literally, but also through the still undefined blood bond between them, his desire for her and her blood intensified. She grabbed his face with both hands, pulling with all her strength so his gaze met her own. His pupils were so dilated that in the gloomy room, all she could see were round black irises.

"Eric, we have to stop."

"But I don't want to …" He kissed her again, desperate and hungry. Emilia responded, leaning against him. "And you don't want to stop either," he stated between hot kisses.

"I don't know what I want, but I'm not ready. Not yet please."

Eric moaned, leaning his forehead against hers.

"You will be the death of me Emilia Claesson."

"You're already dead so I'm sure you'll be just fine," she said with a grin, sliding out from underneath him to roll away.

"Cheeky," Eric said, and Emilia heard him follow her to drape one large arm over her skinny frame, dragging her back towards him so that they were spooning. Emilia squirmed, but that only seemed to encourage him as he held her all the tighter, tucking his chin over her shoulder and pressing his cheek to hers.

"Will you at least let me sleep here today?"

"No! You can't keep your hands to yourself, you just proved that."

"I can be good," he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth gently. "I just want to be close to you."

"Oh my gosh, since when did you become all needy? What do you know that you aren't telling me? A couple of hours ago you were being a jerk, which don't get me wrong I didn't much like, but this is just plain weird."

"Maybe I've just decided I was wrong, and I do like you …"

Emilia turned to face the impassive vamp behind her, searching his face for a hint of honesty.

"That's B.S Eric, you only like yourself! Certainly not any humans. You know something and if you aren't going to tell me then you can just leave."

"Fine," he said with a snarl, unfurling his arm from her torso and hopping out of the bed. Emilia ogled a good deal of snow-white, very muscly back as he sat facing away from her on the edge of the bed, pulling on pants he must have dropped there before he had slunk under the covers to join her.

"You know, Miss Claesson, I am getting pretty tired of you telling me how I feel or who I am. You do not know me."

"Well you don't know me either," she said, scooting further down under the blankets and rolling away from him.

He sighed, and Emilia felt him lingering at the side of the bed for a moment. The ghost of a hand grazed over her hair, but before she could turn around, he was gone, the door across the room opening and closing with nothing more than a gust of air.