Rosalyn heaved an armload of beer onto a storeroom shelf. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your dirty fantasies to yourself," she said. Eric glanced at her over the top of his clipboard and went back to ticking off inventory items. "Seriously, Eric. It's difficult enough being a newborn with all these crazy impulses. Spending my nights in your club full of horny people only makes it harder. I don't need to wake up with my head full of…imagery."

Eric set his pencil down. "What sort of imagery, kitten?"

"I'm not joking. Knock it off with the god damn dreams. I'm going to hurt somebody."

He gave her an amused look. "Color me intrigued. Tell me what you dreamt."

Rosalyn glared. "You already know."

"I'm not entirely sure that I do."

"Don't be such a -" She bit back her frustration. Eric's public persona was downright obnoxious. "The woman we drank from last week?" she reminded him. The feeding had been real enough.

"And?" he pressed.

"Godric. You. Me." She waved her hand as if to fill in the rest. In the dream, they had taken their pleasure in each other while they fed on the human. There were teeth and hands and moans of decadence. It was vivid and depraved - and Eric was being predictably shameless pushing her for details.

"Ah yes. Sparkles." He smirked. "What specifically about her? Her fabulous rack?"

"Don't be crass." Eric waited for her to elaborate. When she realized he was not going to speak up, she relented and explained. "Those cutoff shorts and that - " she cupped her hands and her fangs dropped.

Eric snorted a laugh. "The great ass. Right. You've the wrong man. Go ask your maker."

"You've got to be kidding me," she said.

"I'm not the only one around here with a raging libido. He's discrete, not blind. I told you." He licked his lips. "He likes to watch what he has created. Can you blame him?" Eric's smile grew salacious. He was reading the graphic images in her head. She groaned and went to confront Godric. Eric laughed even harder. "And Ros?" he called after her. "Chop-chop. The stock isn't going to re-shelve itself."

Rosalyn made a rude gesture at him in the safety of the hallway. Godric had taken pains to file their relocation papers with Eric publicly, in order to make it clear to the Area vampires that they had no intention of disrupting Eric's authority. Rosalyn had not immediately understood the ramifications of being folded into Eric's Sheriffdom as an underling. Eric assigned them his usual mandatory community service as he would any other resident vampire. She was given the choice of working the club floor or putting in time after hours. She had chosen the latter. It did not change the fact that Eric was now her boss. He appeared to be enjoying it immensely.

~OOO~

In Eric's office, Godric had set aside Fangtasia's bookkeeping to make a few courtesy calls. He hung the phone in its cradle and pinched his brow. The Queen of England was furious with him. Amleth's absence had inconvenienced her greatly and she was sure to let him know it. He worsened matters when he told her that Maelcon Wolfsbane was dead. It was not easy notifying people. Maelcon might have died at Thea's hands, but it was Godric who had put him in that position. He blamed himself entirely.

There had been a time when Godric and Eric had lived under Maelcon's rule. They had danced at his feasts. Carried out his plots. Fought and bled beside him by the light of the moon. Maelcon was the reason no Werewolf pack had ever settled beyond a certain well-marked mountain range in the Scottish Highlands. He was the reason the Fae folk had abandoned their outposts on the Isles.

When his power had waned, Maelcon wiled away his years as a glorified housekeeper for Godric while his progeny Maeve achieved greatness on her own. Maeve mended the rifts that her elders had made within the supernatural community. A lesser man would have been resentful at having a child dismantle his legacy. Maelcon was no ordinary maker. He was proud of Maeve. "Daughters," he had confessed to Godric, "are the secret strength of a maker."

Only now was Godric coming to see the truth in Maelcon's words. He wished he had been able to ask him more. Now it was too late. Silently, Godric promised himself he would find a way to honor his friend.

Rosalyn stuck her head in the doorway, a question half-formed in her mouth. Her expression changed when she saw him slouched over the desk. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"Come here." He pulled her onto his lap. Brushing the hair from her cheek, he kissed her deeply.

She searched his face. "You looked like you were a million miles away just now. What's up?"

"In all my years, I never expected a love this powerful. I've never known anything like it." He took her hand and placed it over his heart.

"My handsome man. I love you too."

He gazed up at her with a lopsided smile. "I could burst with how happy you make me."

"Darling," she demurred. "What's brought this on?"

"Getting yelled at by the Queen of England, if you can believe it. I'm reminded of how special a thing a vampiress is and how much I cherish the one at my side."

"You and I are just very lucky in love. I'm not special."

"I beg to differ. You are unique among vampiresses, Róisín Ní Goðrík," he said softly. Daughter of Godric. The amusement faded from Rosalyn's features as she pieced together his meaning. "I've said something foolish," he amended quickly. "Forgive me. I know you do not think of yourself that way."

She slid off Godric's lap and sat on the desk. "No. I really don't."

"I'm sorry. I was only thinking of some advice Maelcon gave me. You've caught me indulging in a bit of melancholy."

She nodded in understanding. "You're grieving, love. Don't apologize for it."

Godric sighed. "He was a true friend to me. A difficult man, but…" He shrugged. "That's probably why we got along. We had that in common."

"You do tend to surround yourself with challenging men," she remarked and raised a pointed eyebrow. The Viking had been antagonizing her non-stop with his teasing. He was beyond excited to have them in his territory and his playfulness, no doubt, would inevitably backfire on him. Godric let out a weak huff of a laugh at the thought.

She furrowed her brow. "Men," she repeated.

He cocked his head, unsure of her thoughts. "I don't quite follow."

"You, Eric, Amleth - I've enjoyed the attention so much I hadn't thought about it. I've been constantly surrounded by dudes since I turned."

"You've had Pamela and Isabelle," he countered.

"The majority of your friends. Your retinue. King Peter's retinue." she reckoned. "King Tan, King Edgington, King Antonio. Jesus, most of the regents are kings. Godric?" She looked up at him in alarm. "Why are there so few vampiresses?"

Godric froze, blindsided by her question.

"You said vampiresses are special. You meant rare," she said breathlessly. "That's what bothered me about the families you and Pam showed me before the wedding. Where are all the women? Why are there so few of us?"

"Oh, my darling, Ros." He winced and took a long moment before speaking. When he finally did, it was carefully, and with regret. "Men fear sharing power with women when they are alive. It is no different for the undead. If anything, that fear is greater for those who do not evolve. None of the lies men use to bind women to them hold true."

"We don't need you to procreate. We're just as strong, if not stronger. We don't have to fear you anymore. We won't submit."

"Precisely."

"What happens to them," she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Godric did not shy from the ugliness of it. He hated it nonetheless. The truth fell bitter from his tongue. "They are less likely to be turned, and when they are, they do not survive."

"Femicide," she gasped. "Why don't their makers protect them?"

He studied her, memorizing her innocence, knowing it was his duty to shatter it. "Progeny made as bedmates do not last much longer than their makers' infatuation."

"They are killed by their own makers?" she cried.

He nodded gravely. "Good makers do not share the immortal gift to satisfy their own selfish needs. We share it in the hope of seeing another satisfy their most impossible dreams. You were made to be much more than my lover, Rosalyn, or anything to do with me."

Rosalyn seemed overwhelmed. "But other people pose a threat?"

"Sometimes vampiresses are simply not taught well. Old habits die hard. Men keep the women in ignorance, as if being sheltered is somehow helpful. It isn't, of course – for anyone."

"Ignorance kills in our world. Who else is a threat?"

"I thought you came in here wanting to ask me something? I could tell you were angry…"

"Who, Godric?" she demanded.

He beamed with pride. "That's right, my darling girl. Challenge me. I told you I expected you to and I meant it. Don't let me hide the truth from you. Do you see now why it is so important? It is for your survival."

She pursed her lips. "Point taken. You were saying?"

He searched her face. "Siblings can be deadly." He paused to let her reflect on that one. He hoped she saw the wisdom of his own actions when it came to Eric. She let out a shaky breath and nodded. He continued. "A maker's rivals are obviously a menace. Anyone hovering around a concentration of power – if a maker holds a political position, for instance, or if there is jockeying for favor around the pater. It gets dangerous for everyone, but none more so than for women."

"But not in our family. You've seen to that."

He hesitated. "I can always do better." He probably needed to talk to Eric about his teasing.

"There's a good gender balance in the families we've allied with. I saw it in Pam's flashcards – I just didn't recognize it. They are all small families. They invest in the ones they turn."

He rocked in the desk chair, thinking. "I suppose the great benefit of some men's prejudice is how it blinds them. When they underestimate you, it is to your advantage."

She chuckled. "You're always plotting. Always looking for the angle."

"Always, love. It's how we play the long game." He gave a watery smile. "Come to think of it, this may be why Queen Neith is offering you her support."

"I don't even want to think about how many millennia she's had to put up with men's nonsense."

"Quite a few," he replied, nostrils flaring in amusement. "She's not done well with consorts or children, but Sebek has been good to her. He's served as her Vizier for as long as I can remember."

"Knows his place, does he?"

Godric laughed. "There are those of us old enough to remember when women were worshiped as goddesses. Their pedestals were much higher than mere man's. Come here, goddess mine."

She slid back onto his lap. "I love you," she whispered. Her mouth found his and she sighed into his kiss.

"I hope the years won't feel too laborious with me around," he teased.

She snuggled in, leaving a nip behind his ear. "You can make them pass pleasurably enough."

"Yes?" His hands slid down to cup her rear. "How may I serve?"

"You can start by telling me about the naughty dreams you've been sending me."

"Mmm. We don't exactly control them, you know."

"But you can tell me what you like, why you like it," she suggested.

"I could," he replied coyly.

"In my dream, you enjoyed watching. Tell me why?"

He pondered her question, tracing a finger down the neckline of her wrap shirt. It was a deeply personal thing. "I'm not so sure you will like it. It might sound sick to your young vampire ears."

"Try me." Her hands had been working at the button on his pants. He stilled them.

"What I said about a maker's call and being a good maker. It is true. It is also more complicated than that."

"Mmm. I like how complicated you are," she whispered, licking the curve of his ear.

His eyes rolled closed. "I want to give you everything, Rosalyn. Know every part of you. Experience every moment of you as you do." He swallowed thickly. "You are mine completely and still I want more. I keep chasing you and you elude me entirely."

"Oh," she said, heat pooling in her belly. "You thirst for me."

He inhaled her scent deeply. His fangs slid down and his grip on her tightened. His voice dropped low. "I want to hunt you til the end of time."

She bit her lip and rocked her hips. "What are you waiting for?"

Instinct took over. He pounced and trapped her on the desk. She bit him again with blunt teeth and he growled, grinding himself into her. His movement wafted the scent of lemon furniture polish up and he was reminded of where they were. "We shouldn't - " he began, then gasped. A hand dove down his pants. "Not in Eric's office," he tried.

Eric slapped open his door. "Definitely not on Eric's desk," he snickered. He snapped at them to get up. "Dick around on the clock and you've earned yourselves bar duty."

"Eric!" Rosalyn said in aggravation.

Eric clucked his tongue at his maker. "You should know better." Godric raised a sheepish eyebrow. Eric snorted in disbelief. "Where are we on the arrangements for Lord Sebek?" Godric straightened his clothes and the angry tent in his pants and got back to work.

~OOO~

Fangtasia was closed for Lord Sebek's arrival. A select set of human and vampire guests were invited to attend the special event. Eric, perfectionist that he was, had become unbearably focused on the details. He was determined to welcome the ancient in style. He flitted through the club adjusting curtains and straightening chairs. When he began fussing with the dancers' clothes, Pamela threatened to lock him in the basement. "Knock it off, Eric. You're driving everyone nuts. You aren't going to impress Seb. He's seen it all."

"He hasn't seen Fangtasia, has he?" Eric retorted. Pamela rolled her eyes.

"This is why I organize these things," she told him. Eric went to argue.

"Enough," Godric said. He spoke stiffly. He was concerned. Sebek would have questions. The ancient had a right to interfere.

Eric waved at the DJ to turn on the music. An ethereal, drum-heavy Icelandic chant filtered through the building. The selection was far more personal than Eric's usual dark sex-death-electronica. He lurked around the bar by the entrance, impatient. He reminded the other guests once again to keep their positions and act casual. They were scattered strategically around the space for what Eric insisted were "aesthetic" considerations.

Despite his admonitions, the room froze when Chow opened the door. It was not every day one of the oldest creatures in the world came to Shreveport. Sebek handed Chow a motorcycle helmet. No one spoke. No one breathed.

"Lork Sebek," Rosalyn exhaled, crossing the floor to meet him. Sebek had traded his formal silks in favor of a leather jacket and heavy boots. He looked like any other stylish urbanite, entirely at home in this time. If she had not been able to feel his age prickling over her skin, she would have thought he was an ordinary visitor lured off the highway by the club's flashy sign.

"Dearest child," Seb said warmly, holding out his hands. He cupped Rosalyn's palm in his and kissed her fingers. "Forgive the delay. You called for me?"

In her peripheral vision, Eric made to say something in formal welcome, paused, motioned again, then stopped himself entirely. Sebek's only interest was the young vampiress before him. Godric suppressed a smile.

Rosalyn carefully recited the welcome speech she had planned. "I wanted to thank you first and foremost for the honor of your company at the wedding."

He let out a pleased hum. "The pleasure was mine. It was a spectacle for the ages."

"Allow me to express my deepest gratitude for the protection you gave my husband in what followed."

The ancient Egyptian chuckled. "It was the Celt who gave me protection. I'm afraid he has been telling tall tales if you believe otherwise." He raised an eyebrow at Godric.

"Regardless," Rosalyn said. "You were there where I could not be. Thank you." He nodded. She turned to Eric.

Eric bowed. "Welcome to Area Five, my lord. Fangtasia is at your disposal. Can we offer you a refreshment after your travels?"

Sebek shot an amused glance at Godric. "Younglings make such a fuss, do they not? Yes, Northman, by all means. Bring me your finest blood and show me why everyone in Egypt talks of this place." He scanned the dance floor. "Is this a Norse funeral or a nightclub? No need to change things on my account. Let me hear what makes your followers move."

Eric bowed again, apologized, and made himself busy. Rosalyn had never seen him so compliant. She realized he was putting on his best manners.

Sebek slid into a red leather VIP booth with a view of the dancers and Godric and she sat opposite him. They waited for him to speak first. "This is a land of many wonders. I had forgotten how many worlds there are right here on this single continent."

"America's diversity is one of its great attractions," Godric said mildly. "I take it you've enjoyed your travels?"

"I have."

It was Rosalyn's turn to say something clever. Beneath the table, Godric had a fearsome grip on her thigh. He had taught her not to pounce on elders with questions. It could feel like an interrogation. "Has it been very long since you were last in America?" she asked, hoping it was not too intrusive.

"The trick to keeping a territory, my lady, is staying in it." Rosalyn laughed. It was probably good advice. "I've never been to northern Louisiana," he offered.

"Me either. Not until I moved here."

Sebek blinked in understanding. "On rather short notice, I gather. How are you finding the Northman's Sheriffdom?"

Sebek's question was not neutral. She shifted away from her maker's painful grip. "Eric runs a tight operation. He is tough, but fair. He's put me to work."

Sebek grinned. "Very good."

They continued chatting blandly. Their guest selected a rare blood off Eric's special menu and nursed it for the better part of an hour. Eric seemed pleased to accommodate him. Rosalyn suspected Sebek had only picked it because it was the most expensive thing on offer. Rosalyn watched him, rapt with fascination. He had been a royal emissary for thousands of years. Everything he did offered some lesson in diplomacy.

When Sebek finished his meal, Pamela came with a tray of fragrant, steaming hand towels and knelt at his feet. He wiped his hands fastidiously and thanked her. A cluster of frangipani blossoms garnished the tray and he took one, smelling its delicate aroma. "Lovely, Pamela. From your greenhouse?" She nodded, her head low. "What a thoughtful touch." He tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. "Shall we?" he said, turning back to his hosts.

Godric nodded. "We can talk in Eric's office. There is a secure house nearby which would suffice, alternately."

"The house, I should think." His gaze drifted back over the bustling club. "Thalia has not greeted me."

Godric was quick to explain. "As Eric's eldest retinue member, she has been assigned guard duty. She awaits you downstairs."

Sebek sniffed in slight displeasure. "Are the prisoners complying?"

Something dangerous shifted in Godric's eyes. "We could check."

Sebek's slow, measured demeanor was instantly lightning-fast and barbed. "Do not bait me, Blue One," he snapped, his deep baritone rumbling the air. It was Rosalyn's turn to dig her nails into Godric's side. "I am here at the Lady's request, not yours. I will handle your captives for you if - and only if - I know what you are getting me and my Queen into. All of it." He spoke directly to Rosalyn. "The girl included."

"Sorry?" Rosalyn said, straightening.

Sebek looked past her shoulder and locked his gaze on Sookie in another booth with Michael. He looked meaningfully back at them and waited. Godric leaned forward. "She is not part of this conversation."

"Oh, but she is. Tell me she is not and I walk. I will not suffer lies."

Godric sat back. "I'd be a fool to question your instinct. But know this, Vizier. Sookie's status is not up for negotiation. Period."

Sebek gave a crooked smile. "That sounds like a decree, young one. But I would know about it if it were."

"Consider yourself the first to be informed," Godric retorted.

Sebek burst into laughter. His fist pounded the table top. Godric relaxed back into the booth. "You truly are a madman! You haven't changed a bit. Come. Let us say hello to my ex-wife." He rose from the table, leaving behind a round-eyed Rosalyn. 'Ex-wife?!' she mouthed at Godric. He shook his head in warning.

In the jail, the former spouses greeted each other at a distance. "Are you well?" Sebek asked.

Thalia snarled and pointed at her ragtag charges with a knife. "They are not dead yet," she said, by way of a reply.

Sebek studied the drippy basement. "You missed the battle."

"Orders," she scoffed, sounding disinterested.

"I am told the Northman is a fair Sheriff."

Rosalyn gave Godric a worried look. Thalia flipped her blade several times before answering. "He is."

Sebek made an odd grunt that Rosalyn supposed must signal his satisfaction. "Which one is the most difficult?" he asked of the prisoners.

"That one." She gestured at Eva. "She was too loud before. Now she is too quiet."

Without moving, Sebek was suddenly standing before Eva's cell. Eva slammed against the back wall and shrieked in terror. "No. No! Please!"

Godric strolled lazily over, hands in his pockets. He stopped at the cell next to Eva's. "I'd rather like to know more about what this one is hiding."

The mop-haired prisoner in front of him cowered. "Godric, old boy. Come now! We have no quarrel!"

Godric turned to Sebek. "William Compton here knows all about Sookie. He was the one sent here to spy on Eric and steal her from us. He also brought the human date who was glamoured to attack Rosalyn. Compton can give you your answers - and mine."

"How efficient." Sebek gave a gleaming, predatory grin. "Leave us."

Godric ignored Compton's shouts for mercy. "No one else is to be touched." The ancient nodded in understanding.

They waited for Sebek in the car. He took his time. Rosalyn was agitated. "When were you going to mention that my guardian and Eric's guardian were once married?"

Godric glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "It's ancient history."

"Uh, isn't it going to be a problem? They despise each other."

"Do they?" he asked.

She frowned. "Pam did suggest Seb wouldn't mind if Thalia were dead."

"Thalia, as you may have noticed, is not a team player."

"What did she do?"

"You do not repeat this," he warned, the command rattling between his teeth. "Thalia gravely insulted Queen Neith by doing business with her enemies. Sebek was forced to choose between his Queen and his wife."

"He didn't put his wife first." She found it disturbing. Heartbreaking.

"It was a political marriage, love. It obviously didn't work out."

"You make it sound like it was an easy choice for him."

"It was." He glanced back at her. "He is House Senusret."

"Neith and he share blood," she said in realization. "She is the matriarch?"

Just as Godric went to answer, Sebek exited from the club's side door. "Oh holy shit," Rosalyn swore and clapped a hand over her mouth. A spray of blood glittered across his face and jacket.

Godric's only reaction was to put the car into gear. The suspension bounced and Sebek got in the passenger seat. He wiped the corner of his mouth with a thumb and grimaced. "Distasteful man."

~OOO~

They pulled up to a house that was not Eric's. At least, it was not the one where he lived. It was decorated innocuously, like a holiday rental. Godric gave Sebek the keys and showed him how to use the alarm. "Help yourself to anything here," he told him. "We recommend North Shreveport as day grounds. The forests around Cross Lake are safe. Avoid Bon Temps at all costs." Rosalyn understood. No sane elder would rest in a known location. He would not go to ground here. Sebek thanked him.

In the living room, Sebek set his jacket gingerly over a chair and took a seat. He did not mince words to Rosalyn. "Your maker's coup is doomed without backing in the Old World. He has little support there."

Godric nodded at her. "You may discuss our plans with him." The command that silenced her ability to speak about their political plans eased.

"At the wedding -" she began.

"- you were given well wishes," Sebek supplied. "Not sworn allegiances."

She did not flinch. "You gave me yours. You kissed my hem and looked me straight in the eye."

Sebek studied her. He started chuckling. "I did indeed. Gracious gods, she is canny, Godric." Godric bowed his head in thanks.

"Is Compton dead?" she asked.

"I wouldn't deprive your brother of the joy," Sebek replied.

"What did the little weasel have to say for himself?" Godric asked.

"Not much," he replied, his laugh malicious. "But he was foolishly allowed to witness plenty. He was a procurer, yes? Sophie-Anne could not handle Louisiana. You were right to depose that one." Godric nodded deeply again, glad of the support. "Have you tasted the Stackhouse girl?"

"No," Rosalyn answered quickly. "No one in my House has. She is our ward and our asset – not our pin-cushion."

"Wise." Sebek hummed. "Sophie-Anne wanted the faeling for herself. She should have kept quiet."

Godric sat forward. "She tried to leverage Sookie with someone to get out of trouble instead - before she had secured her." He wanted to know who.

"The Queen only found more trouble," Sebek confirmed. "But so have you. The Tarquinii wanted the girl. When they found out where she lived, they wanted the whole kingdom."

"They want to expand to Louisiana? Whatever for?" Godric asked.

Sebek huffed a laugh. "Do you think no one pays attention? Eric's strategy is obvious to the ancients. Consider yourself lucky we do not concern ourselves with your New World squabbling. The younger Tarquinii - Calla - she chafes under her sister's command. She seeks a territory equal in status to Athens."

Godric's expression betrayed nothing. "Compton gave you all this?"

"Please," he said, amused by the Celt's attempt to play coy. "Sonia's blood was far more informative."

Godric did not immediately reply. Rosalyn was not sure what he would do. "Why are you only telling us now?" she asked the elder.

Sebek appeared pleased, but it was Godric who answered. "Because he was doing his homework first, Ros. That's why he stayed stateside. He wasn't sight-seeing." It was recon.

"I see. And?"

Sebek drummed his fingers on the armrest. "Who takes over once you execute the Council members in the Northman's basement?" Godric raised a meaningful eyebrow at him. Sebek gave a wary laugh. "Oh, no, young friend. You are mistaken."

Godric licked his bottom lip and smiled. "You were always near the top of a very short list. You've gone and made yourself useful, Seb."

"I cannot serve our kind in that capacity."

"I'm not asking you to leave Neith's service."

Rosalyn decided it was now or never. She glanced at Godric and he blinked in agreement. "May I share an idea with you, Great One?"

"Could I stop you?" Sebek replied. He waved for her to continue.

"The Council is done, as you saw. We would like to form a multi-supe union in its place."

Sebek burst into laughter. "Hear us out, Vizier," Godric said.

"With dogs and gnomes and djinn?" the ancient wheezed.

"We would welcome anyone who would like a voice," Rosalyn said. "They wouldn't govern in the traditional sense. The members would adjudicate supernatural problems as they affect us all."

"It would de-centralize our political decisions," Godric added. "It would be far less authoritarian than the Council."

"I do not see how!" Sebek said, still bouncing. He shook his head as he considered it. "We would go from a panel of members to a single representative."

"When was the last time anyone had influence through a Council member? It's not a representative body, it's a kangaroo court that jumps at Roman's word."

Sebek's laughter subsided. "It is your legacy," he hissed in accusation.

"A damned ugly one," Godric agreed. "The Council stopped serving its purpose long ago. Let's destroy it." Sebek looked between the two of them, realizing they were dead serious. "Think of it, Lord Sebek. We would have a voice in all creatures' politics."

"And they in ours," he said skeptically. It sounded outrageous.

"We would still have all of our own local and regional courts," Godric explained. "But if folks cannot agree and they want to take a problem to the highest authority, it is one where the issue will be decided in the best interests of all creatures."

"It's high time we work together," Rosalyn stressed.

"No single bloodline could consolidate power over us." Sebek murmured, thinking out loud. "The other supes would see through the vampire's biases."

"Exactly," Godric said.

Sebek turned to his god-daughter. "You have both given me much to consider."

"It is a lot, my Lord. We'll give you time to think it over. In the meantime, could I get your help on a related matter?"

"You would ask me to be the emissary of all vampire and still you want more?" He looked at Godric in disbelief. Godric shrugged. He was used to it.

Rosalyn leaned forward and set her hand on her god-father's knee. "Help us smash the Tarquinii clan?"

"After what Thea has done?" Sebek's dark eyes flashed with delight. "It would be my distinct pleasure."

A/N: Predictions? Worries? Need to yell at me to update soon? Leave a review! Thanks for reading as always. Encouragement right now is greatly needed, as I've got some rather large dragons to slay. Reviewers get to use Eric's desk however they please! xx, M