A/N: Hi lovely readers! I hope you are keeping safe and faring well. Thanks so much for your patience as I put this next installment of ITM together for you. It's been a busy summer on my end, so here's a long chapter to make up for the wait. Buckle up - it's a bumpy ride. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts about it. Happy reading!

~48~

"Welcome aboard Anubis Air, Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. We're pleased you've chosen to fly with us this evening." The pin-neat stewardess ushered Godric and Rosalyn to their first-class seating.

The couple had split from Eric, Pamela, and Sebek in Shreveport and taken a different flight to avoid arousing attention. After an overnight stop in Philadelphia, they traded one set of fake identities for another and were now bound for Frankfurt in the second leg of a convoluted route across Europe.

To Rosalyn, Frankfurt had seemed like an odd choice for a transit point. Godric explained that the German city offered a major international airport, but not one so large that they would have to change terminals and go through additional security checkpoints. Their fake passports might not stand up to scrutiny if they tried to transfer in London or Paris. There were too many people likely to recognize any or all of them - and they were very much trying to arrive in Athens unnoticed.

In the spacious cabin, the stewardess gave them a brief lecture on the Airbus' safety features before delving into details about the services and amenities their seating had bought them. "What may I start you off with?" she asked. "We offer a full collection of Royalty Blended Vintage and have our award-winning mixologist on board ready to handcraft your unique Anubis Air dining experience."

Godric responded in character as his alias, Alistair Smythe, who apparently spoke with a posh Oxford English accent. "Madam will have an O-neg, served neat. Nothing for me, thank you." Over the lowered partition between their seats, Rosalyn clapped a hand over her mouth with a squeak. "Or did you want something else, darling?" he qualified. She shook her head mutely. "Right-o then. That will be all," he said, dismissing the stewardess.

As the woman left to place the order, Rosalyn burst into laughter. "Oh my god, you are too much!"

"Am I? Perhaps," he said, continuing the charade. "The American wife rather breaks the illusion, I dare say. Would have caused an uproarious scandal in certain circles." He winked.

Rosalyn wheezed, her shoulders bouncing. "Surely the crew know we're not who we say we are."

"They are paid handsomely not to notice such things," he said, switching back to his usual lilt. "Besides, their CEO just boarded." Godric nodded up the aisle. Sebek had come aboard while they were distracted. He was at the front of the cabin, laying out his expectations to the chief customer service officer. The man was frantically scratching down notes on his passenger manifesto.

"Of course," Rosalyn said. "Anubis Air. I should have realized the Egyptians were behind it." The airline catered to the undead, complete with night-time flight scheduling and windowless, sun-proof cabins. "So Vizier, CEO, godfather extraordinaire - what doesn't Sebek do?"

"Tolerate nonsense," Godric supplied, watching the ancient vampire. The crewmember was nodding and bowing in obvious panic. Rosalyn leaned closer over the retractable screen between her and Godric's seating suites. "These first-class tickets must have cost a fortune. How much do we owe him?"

"He wouldn't be much of a godfather if he was unwilling to share what costs him nothing to give." Godric studied the seating, pulling up the cubby storage door and letting it drop unceremoniously. He curled a lip in distaste. "I hate flying commercial."

"You would," Rosalyn chuckled. Godric did not have much reason to appreciate such luxurious flying given his powers. "I really hope I get the gift of flight one day."

"It would certainly be useful," he grumbled. He scanned the passengers. "It's bloody dangerous traveling like this."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a nervous flier. It'll be fine."

He turned sharply toward her. "Young one, safety is not a matter of wishful thinking - " he began. The stewardess came with Rosalyn's drink, saving her from a full-blown lecture.

"Thank you," she said, accepting it gratefully. She sipped it and licked her lips. "This is really good. Here, try it." Godric scowled at the glass. "You're wound too tight, love. Please, take a sip."

He humored her with a grimace and passed the glass back. "It tastes like an aluminum can."

"Oh, poop. You're acting like a grumpy old man."

"I am a grumpy old man," he countered. He snapped open an in-flight magazine and pretended to be riveted by an article on Barcelona.

The passengers continued to board. There was no sign of Eric or Pamela. Godric kept craning his neck over his shoulder to check the aisles. Eventually, a familiar voice piped up behind them. "Evening ladies and gents," Pamela purred.

"Finally." Godric visibly relaxed. Pamela sauntered by in a skin-tight skirt suit. "Cutting it rather close, no?" he hissed at her.

Pamela dropped her oversized sunglasses down. "Someone delayed us in duty-free," she explained with a jerk of her head. Further behind her, Eric loitered at the kitchen galley, backing up other passengers trying to board. Pamela pushed the dark glasses back over the bridge of her nose and made her way to her seat.

Eric had donned a tropical black and white print button down for the occasion and was flirting relentlessly with the stewards and stewardesses. With his ballcap and designer aviators, he might not have been recognizable as himself, but he certainly gave the impression of somebody notable. They fawned over him, laughing too hard at his banter and finding excuses to brush a hand against his forearm.

"For god's sake," Rosalyn muttered, sinking back into her chair. "What part of low profile does he not understand?"

Godric made a noise in agreement. "Putting him on a plane on the eve of battle was perhaps not the best idea. He's liable to drain half the cabin crew if we're not careful. You might want to keep an eye on him."

"Me? He's your progeny!"

Godric looked up lazily from his magazine. "Sure, but he's your bonded. He's more likely to listen to his common law wife than the old grump who turned him."

"And who is going to keep you from misbehaving?" she asked.

He bit back a smile. "I thought you liked it when I misbehave."

"God, I have my work cut out for me, don't I?"

The corner of Godric's mouth quirked. "Spoken like a true consort of the Goðríkii clan, my dear."

~OOO~

Halfway into the mindless movie Rosalyn was watching, she grew queasy. The feeling had built gradually, tickling the hollow of her stomach until she could not deny its presence. She lurched forward, grabbing the sides of the suite. Godric glanced up in concern. Since reaching altitude, he and Sebek had been commiserating in near silence. They sat cross-legged on Godric's bed, heads bent together, pouring over a packet of Godric's maps and projections.

"I don't feel right," she told him.

"We're flying in the twilight," he explained. "Keeping right behind the Earth's shadow in the Arctic. It's completely unnatural for us, but they prefer to do it this way to keep everyone slightly sedated. Don't worry. We'll arrive and deplane before sunrise."

Rosalyn peeked over the edge of her seat to survey the cabin. Most of the other passengers had locked the covers over their berths to doze. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. "I think I'm going to get sick."

Sebek frowned. "Do you need a bag?"

"Go curl up with Eric," Godric suggested.

"Can't you - ?" she gestured vaguely at herself.

Godric tipped his head at ancient beside him. "Lord Sebek is leading this operation, Ros. I'm debriefing our commanding officer."

She looked hopefully at the Egyptian. "Listen to your maker, child," the Vizier replied, his tone brooking no argument.

She nodded. "Yes, my lord. Apologies."

"Not necessary," Sebek demurred. "Order anything you want from the bar. Let me know if it is not to your specifications."

Rosalyn made a noncommittal sound. She had no intention of lodging a complaint with the Vizier. She was pretty sure heads would roll if she tattled on a crewperson for being anything less than perfect.

Several rows up, the round backside of one of the stewardesses hung in the air as she bent down into a customer's seat. Rosalyn let out a breath in exasperation. "Do I need an appointment or what?" she asked, speaking a little louder than strictly necessary. The stewardess startled in surprise. There was shuffling as she readjusted her clothing. She straightened, still fiddling with the standard-issue scarf knotted at her throat. Rosalyn narrowed her eyes at the fresh bite wound she was trying to hide. "Excuse me. I need to speak with my bonded husband."

The woman's eyes went square. "Oh my god. Mrs. Smythe. I…I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought…"

Eric's voice piped up from the suite. "Don't think, Veronica. Just run along."

"And bring us something extremely rare to drink," Rosalyn added. "Please be quick."

"Yes, madame. Right away." She curtsied.

Rosalyn pointed at her mouth. "You might want to fix your lipstick while you're at it." The woman went ashen. Rosalyn slid around the edge of the suite and threw her hands up at Eric. "Seriously?"

He lay sprawled out, his seat fully reclined into a bed, an arm tucked behind his head. "Jealousy looks delicious on you, baby."

"Move over, buttface. I'm airsick."

Eric uncrossed his legs and swore. "Again? Gods, woman. You have a weak stomach."

"It's insane to fly like this." He agreed and scooched over so that she could slot in against him. The chief customer service officer brought them two martini glasses. He set them on the table built in beneath the television, along with an extra pillow and blanket, then rolled down the booth's cover for their privacy.

Rosalyn quickly downed her cocktail. Eric sniffed his and pulled a face. "Fucking foam. Why do they always have to put foam on these things?"

Rosalyn snatched his glass and slurped the bubbly layer off the top for him. "Fixed it."

"Little piglet!" he laughed. "Have the rest." She didn't hesitate, and the warm liquid disappeared down her gullet. "Better?" he asked.

"Not really. I feel like I'm shadowboxing with a sunrise that isn't actually there."

"Godric's busy with Seb?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

He smirked. "Lucky me." He unbuttoned his shirt and gestured for her to lose hers. The skin contact would help. Despite the relatively spacious accommodations, he struggled to disrobe. Rosalyn gave him a hand, negotiating the shirt over his broad shoulders. She curled up against his chest and sighed. The relief was immediate. He ran a hand over her hair, pulling her close. In the droning silence of the plane, they fell into downtime.

At some point during the trans-Atlantic flight, Eric moved slightly, adjusting her in his arms. He traced his lips over her forehead and spoke in whisper. "Just once, it would be nice if you came to me when you weren't about to puke."

She started bouncing quietly in laughter. He had not realized she was not asleep. She bit the pec beneath her cheek in a blunt-toothed tease. "Is that what you want then?"

He drew back to have a better look at her. His fingertips traced the line of her jaw and the pout of her mouth. He swallowed hard and crooked an eyebrow. The soft lighting in the suite made the flecks of sunflower gold around his irises shine.

"Oh my," she told him, feeling the blood flush cold in her face.

Neither moved. They stared at each other, gauging the other's next actions. The chasm of air beneath them was palpable as they hurtled through the sky together at hundreds of miles per hour. Eventually, Eric's chest started to rise and fall as the anticipation got to him. His lips found her shoulder, hesitant at first, where he left a kiss. She set her fingers over the peak of his Adam's apple to feel it dance as he kissed a gentle path down her arm. Her other hand found its way into his hair and she pulled a fistful of it, hungering for the contact. Their blood sang to each to other from deep within their bones. She wanted to be closer to him, closer still to the force that bound them. She wanted to crawl inside Eric and live there always. In truth, part of her already did.

He nuzzled into her, feeling the same intense longing. "My someday lover," he rasped. Her skin prickled in gooseflesh and his hands roved over her curves before tightening their hold on her. He put his mouth to her ear. "One night, I'm going to fuck you so deep it will mark your soul."

She let out a short gasp and he caught her parted lips in a scorching kiss. In a flash, before she could react, he pinned her wrists over her head and nudged her thighs apart. Slowly, he canted his hips against hers, giving her a tantalizing preview of his intentions. "You'll beg for me, Rosalyn. I'm going to annihilate you and put you back together. I'll make you mine in ways you'll be too shameless to decline."

"Eric," she breathed shakily, trying to fight the fire burning within her.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he offered. When she didn't, he broke into a ferocious grin. He let his weight press heavy against her, grounding her body with his, binding her to him with his will. His hair fell forward in a golden veil around their faces. "You'll never recover from what I'll give you, lover. You won't want to." He inhaled her scent, then nosed her jawline before licking her neck slowly as if she were prey. Her head fell back, exposing her throat more fully. He mouthed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the delicate column of her windpipe. "Oh, my Rosalyn. The things we can do together. The things I will let you do to me. You have no idea, my bloodmate."

Her fingers curled over his hands, biting into the backs of his palms with her nails. "Like…like what?" she stammered.

He laughed into the hollow of her collarbone. "You want to know?"

He scraped kiss at the base of her throat, tasting the flesh there and humming in pleasure with what he found. His teeth paused, contemplative. She squirmed and he suddenly struck, clamping his teeth over the vulnerable place where her jugular lay - biting, but not breaking the skin. She tensed and struggled and he bit harder, dominating her with edge of his teeth. He let out a rough growl and she turned to jelly in his grip. Rosalyn heard herself make a pathetic, needy noise. Her arousal throbbed between her legs and he held her there, in total submission, her life between his deadly jaws. Then, with a victorious laugh, he scooped her into a ball and cocooned her protectively within his long limbs. "You are mine, precious girl," he said.

She searched his piercing gaze. "Tell me you're not just doing this because you're bored."

"Never." He squeezed her closer, so close their lips were nearly touching.

Now Rosalyn was the one panting. "Let me drink from you."

She bent her head to his throat. He pulled away. "Tell me again what you said to that bloodbag I was feeding from."

"Which part?"

"You know which part. Say it again - to my face - and I'll tell you a secret in return."

"You're my bonded mate. Obviously."

"And a full blood bond is common law marriage for vampires…" he prompted.

She rolled her eyes. "For crying out loud, you know it's just legalese. I said you were my 'husband'." He let out a jagged breath and shivered. She studied his reaction. "Oh, Eric." She dug her nails into him. "If I'd known you'd be incapacitated by a word I'd have said it sooner."

"It's more than a word, Ros." he corrected, a little breathless. "It's a title. It is an honor." She smiled in surprise, and the unguarded smile he gave her in return made her smile even harder. "What made you think of it?" he asked after a beat.

She furrowed her brow. "Something Godric said to me, I guess." She shrugged.

He huffed a laugh to hide his disappointment. "Manipulative bastard. He planted the thought in your head."

"Not at all. I've known that was one aspect of our bond for a while. You just didn't want to talk about it, remember?"

He made a sound in consternation. "Do you at least feel better?"

"Maybe. Tell me this secret of yours."

"Hmmm." He traced a line from her chin to her collarbone. "How it felt just now when I claimed your throat?" Rosalyn swallowed. The thought of his powerful mouth on her neck melted her insides. She wanted him to do it again – and again. "That's how it feels when I hear you get territorial over me," he admitted.

"Really," she said, intrigued.

"Now do that thing with your nails again," he told her. She raked her nails down his chest and he keened in pleasure. "Mmm. One of these nights, I'll fast for a week so you can really drain me."

"That sounds…kinky."

"Oh, it is," he smirked, lust glinting in his gaze. "Maker has given this to us. Perfect equality. Perfect trust. There is no one else in this world who is as you are to me."

"That sounds an awful lot like 'I love you'," she teased.

"We are one in the blood," he affirmed, his voice husky.

She slid a hand between his legs and squeezed the place she had claimed in his groin. "You've been dreaming about the feel of my teeth lately."

He adjusted her hand and squeezed it around his considerable hardness. "You dream about more than just my teeth, sweet thing."

She hesitated, grappling with the implications of what she wanted to do. "Oh screw it," she declared. She went to pluck the button on his waistband and he stopped her with a laugh.

"No, kitten. Not here."

"Worried you've got lipstick stains that you'd rather I not find?"

"Everyone will know if we bloodshare. The pressurized cabin. Recirculated air," he tried to explain. His touch on her wrist was firm. "Trust me, I want to make you come on my fingers while I gush into your mouth. But not here, baby. And definitely not yet."

She jerked back in disbelief. "Eric! You were just feeding off a god damn stewardess in plain view of everyone. What are you playing at?"

"I'm not going to make love to you on this flying port-o-potty. What do you take me for?" Rosalyn struggled for words. His expression grew serious and he hitched up on an elbow. "And especially not when Maker has sent you to me for relief. No, baby girl. When you come to me for the first time, you'll come because you're finally ready for me - and not a moment before that."

She turned away, embarrassed, and covered her face with a hand. He tried to make her look at him. "Besides, we never fuck before battle. It's bad luck. It takes the fight from you." His words gave her little comfort. "It's good that we're riled up. It means we're going to win."

She blinked back the misting tears of rejection. "Of course," she said, trying to sound reasonable.

"Rosalyn." He searched her. "Maker sent you to comfort me too."

"What?" she said skeptically. "Please. Why on earth would he -?" Her face fell. "Oh..."

As soon as Godric found Amleth, he was going to murder him for what he had done. Terribly. In some way Rosalyn could not even fathom. Eric was going to lose the only undead brother he had ever known. Worse, he was going to help kill him. He had already admitted to her that he couldn't handle it. Any other appearances he gave were a total show. Eric was just so good at hiding his true feelings that she had forgotten. His obnoxious attention-seeking with the flight crew was to cover the pain. "Shit. You're heartbroken," she realized. He flexed his jaw and did not respond. It was all the confirmation she needed. She tucked a tendril of hair behind his ear. "You poor thing. What can I do?"

Eric gave a crooked smile, trying to make the best of the situation. "Whisper filthy things into my ear until we land?"

She groaned. "Order more snacks first."

"You got it," he agreed, and hit the call bell.

~OOO~

When she slipped back into her seat for the landing, Godric was resting, his hands folded on his belly. "How is he?" he asked from behind closed eyes.

"Eric is exactly like you said: 'A gentleman'," she quoted in annoyance, "'even when he's not acting like one'."

A sly smile spread across Godric's mouth. He opened his eyes and looked her up and down. "Motivating the troops is a crucial element of any battle plan. I'd say you've the makings of a general."

"How do you figure?"

"You got Eric focused on what matters."

She snorted. "I doubt sex has won many wars."

"I meant that he is focused on the future." He furrowed his brow in consideration. "We mustn't go forward with our thoughts turned toward the past. History brought us to this moment, but the past only offers up causes for dying. It is the future that holds so many more reasons to live."

"Are you telling me that for my benefit or reminding yourself?"

He huffed a perplexed laugh. "Both, I think."

She nodded slowly. "You okay? We're headed into some heavy stuff."

"I'm enjoying the in-flight entertainment." He adjusted the prominent bulge in his pants and shot her a heated look.

"Enjoying your progeny, I see. I sure hope you've got some of that planned for me in the future."

He crooked a finger at her. When she leaned over, he inhaled her scent and let out a rumbling purr. "When this is over, you're going to learn what it is to be loved by an untamed thing. And I must warn you, Rosalyn: there isn't a shred of gentleman in me." His gaze glittered dangerously.

She exhaled. "Promise?" He replied with a searing kiss, all fang and tongue and desire.

~OOO~

The flight to Athens was far less eventful - and altogether more tense. The blocky, yellow sprawl of the city rushed past the landing gear as they descended. Godric gripped Rosalyn's hand as they hit the tarmac. The wheels touched down with a bounce and a squeal and he muttered something that sounded suspiciously obscene.

They deplaned hastily, with sunglasses and hats pulled low. Sebek pinched a security pass from one of his employees. He took them through a side corridor off the priority jetway and led them to the prayer room in the airline's VIP lounge. "In a circle," he directed. "Leave your bags. Your purse too, Pamela." Rosalyn and Pamela set their things against the wall in a pile and gathered around Sebek.

He spread his arms over their shoulders and fell into a hushed prayer, his voice rushing hot like a whispered wind over rattling reeds. He invoked his ancient gods to protect them, and as he prayed, his prayer turned into a curse. "Thea Tarquinii, Calla Tarquinii, Amleth Tarquinii - may you be damned in the sight of the First Gods!" He spit derision into every syllable of their enemies' names. "We call on He Who is First in the West, Great Lord of the Sacred Land, Keeper of Secrets in the Undying Place. Oh, Great Anubis, hang these traitors in your scales of justice. Weigh their guilty hearts in the Hall of Two Truths!"

Rosalyn felt a shiver of terror rush over her skin. She glanced up at Godric. His eyes were clamped shut, absorbing the ill-wish with relish.

"We call on the Winged Guardian of Ma'at, the Keeper of the Moon and Magic, Great Guardian of Balance. Oh, Great Thoth, guide our hands as we deliver the evildoers to your gates. Cast their souls into the jaws of Ammut the Destroyer. May no one remember their names!"

"A-men," Pamela said with a flourish.

Rosalyn lifted her head, bewildered. As they gathered their hand luggage and prepared to leave, she stuck close to Godric, an arm around his waist. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"Listen to Sebek's orders and follow my lead," he said calmly.

"I'm not ready. I need more training. What if I do the wrong thing? What if - "

He took her cheeks in his hands. "I would not put you into a situation that I thought I could not control. Trust your vampiric instincts, Ros, as I trust them. " Sebek cleared his throat unnecessarily, wanting to add to Godric's advice. "Please," he said in invitation.

"Your maker does not need assistance in the fight, child. We aren't here to help with the battle. We're here to clean up the aftermath."

Eric's excitement was plain. "You'll see," he told her.

~OOO~

A helicopter was waiting to take them across the city. The vehicle swept them high above the dense streets, its blades cutting a brisk path through the night. In the center of Athens, a peak jutted out over the land. An unmistakable marble complex sprouted from its crown. "The Parthenon!" Rosalyn exclaimed. Spotlights dramatically up-lit the temple's lithe columns and crumbled pediments.

Godric asked Sebek if the pilot might take an extra turn around the Acropolis. They were running slightly ahead of schedule and another layer of misdirection would not hurt. Sebek agreed and they careened around the park like typical air tourists. "Have you been inside it?" she asked her maker, pressing her face against the window.

"Yes, I've been inside. Many times."

"Really?" she asked earnestly. "Before it collapsed?"

Her awe brought a smile to his face. "It was a treasury. How else was I supposed to make a withdrawal?"

Her jaw dropped in amazement. Sebek chuckled. "If you are that easily impressed, young mistress, then you will be awestricken when you visit us in Thebes."

"Oh my gosh. I can't imagine," she gushed.

"Would you like that?" Sebek asked.

"Of course!"

"Excellent," Sebek replied, laughing again. "Then it is settled."

Between their legs, Godric gave her hand a squeeze and he leaned to her ear. "You've just been invited to Queen Neith's court, love. What do you say to your guardian?"

"Wait. What? Really!?" Rosalyn looked between her maker and Sebek. "It would be an honor to visit Egypt. Absolutely incredible. Yes. Yes, please!"

Sebek sat back in satisfaction and spoke then of royal barges and Nile tours and the rare entertainments offered by one of the world's oldest, most secretive courts. Godric listened with a half-ear, keen to absorb Rosalyn's fascination. He had spent time in Egypt - before. Before he was a free man. Before he was head of their bloodline. He had never been offered a formal state visit. Few families in recent memory had.

Godric did not trust it, though gods knew he could not refuse the Egyptians. He wanted to know why they were helping Rosalyn – and what it would cost him. Egypt did not politick. They sought no empire. It was why he had tapped Sebek for the inter-species union in the first place. But his inability to reciprocate the Egyptian Kingdom's increasingly lavish favors worried him. He and Eric exchanged a knowing look.

The helicopter touched down at a private airfield across town. Godric hung back as the others disembarked. He studied the Vizier. "If you intended to distract my newborn before battle, you've outdone yourself. Your generosity towards Rosalyn truly knows no bounds, Great Lord."

Sebek barked a laugh. "You believe Egypt would open her hallowed gates for your youngest alone? How unusually short-sighted of you."

"How would you like me to see it?"

Sebek snickered at the cagey vampire. "You are incapable of recognizing friendship when it is offered to you, young one. I suppose you've known too little of it. Your maker set you on a dark and friendless road." Godric froze, astonished by the Vizier's impudence. Before he could gather a retort, Sebek continued. "I could not help but overhear you lecturing your newborn. You fight for your family's future, yes? House Senusret will ensure they have one."

Godric blinked. "I…am not sure I understand."

"Don't you? We are not in the habit of begging for allies. Either accept or do not, Blue One."

Godric let out a stunned breath. "Your invitation…you mean to declare a formal alliance with my House?"

"Is that so unthinkable? I have seen enough to make my decision. I see no reason to delay it. I will represent our kind in this new creatures' union of yours if – and only if - I know I am not alone. Friends are a rare treasure. I have not survived this long without them. Am I wrong to think I might have one in you?"

Godric suddenly found himself as flushed and speechless as his wife. Egypt's public support would only strengthen his family's position in the New World. It would repair some of the considerable damage Godric had left behind in the Old one. While he considered it, the ancient clapped a hand on Godric's shoulder. Even cordial, the gesture shot dread straight into the younger vampire's toes. "Do not think that because the First Ones rarely speak that we do not notice," Sebek said. "Time and again, you have shown yourself capable of greatness. It is good to see you finally apply yourself toward something worthwhile. Your vision for America is selfless and brave." Sebek jostled him in encouragement.

He bowed his head deeply, humbled to his core. "I have much to learn from you."

"So you do. You have only to ask." Sebek gave his shoulder a final slap and went to greet his field asset. "Emir!" he said, an arm outstretched to his spy. Godric stared after him, still in shock.

He helped Eric load their weaponry into the SUV that he and Pamela would drive. A strange smile lingered on his lips. "What does he want from us?" Eric asked quietly. When his maker did not reply, he tried again. "You're grinning like a schoolgirl with a secret crush. What did he say?"

Godric looked up at him. "I have much more to gain from Sebek's guardianship over Ros than I initially thought."

"What the hell did he say to you?"

"That is between the Ancients, child."

Eric quirked a brow. "That good, huh? Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll wait." He handed his maker the case with Rosalyn's Britlingen-steel swords.

Godric unzipped it. Even in the dim parking lot, the detailing on their hilts gleamed. He had not had the chance to appreciate them properly. "I swear, if I hadn't turned you myself I'd think you were half dwarven. These are exquisite."

Eric flipped his own axe in the air with a smug snort. "Then you'd better not lose them like the last knives I made you."

Godric slipped the scabbards crosswise over his shoulders without a reply. Across the lot, Pamela and Rosalyn emerged from the bathroom changed into their tactical gear. Eric pushed a bulletproof vest at Godric. His maker went to argue. "You're not coming back to me shot up again. You're wearing it," he told him.

~OOO~

The helipad was located a short walk from the rain sewer Godric planned to use. He dropped through the drain with a splash. Rosalyn followed close behind and he caught her by the hips and eased her down. She sniffed the air suspiciously. The tunnel smelled of stale diesel and wet mold. "This way," he directed. "Mind your footing. The concrete is slick." They switched on their headlamps and started the trek south. The ground rumbled and honked with the street traffic passing overhead.

Two kilometers in, the culvert split. To the right, the sluggish wastewater continued one way. The left branch was blocked by a grate, secured with a heavy padlock. Godric cracked it apart with a single blow of his fist and peeled the iron grill away. He crawled through the opening and let out a satisfied sound from the other side.

"What is it?" Rosalyn whispered.

"Come say hello."

With some trepidation, she slid through the entrance. A clear stream gurgled past their feet. "Oh wow. It's the river," she said. The famed Ilisos had once quenched the thirst of Athens' philosophers and kings. Now it sat entombed in darkness. Godric scooped a handful of water up in his palms. He spoke to it silently before rinsing his face with it.

"We should free it," she said impulsively.

He broke into a crooked grin. "You read my mind." He hopped nimbly on the concrete ledge above the water level. Metal piping ran along the wall. He dragged a pensive hand along it as he walked. The Greek label on the pipeline warned of a fire hazard. "I have an idea," he said, patting the pipe. "But first thing is first."

Thea's compound lay another half kilometer ahead. They would cut the electricity for the neighborhood, then sprint for the villa along the narrow underground passageway. Rosalyn located the junction box beneath a thick coating of grime and cobweb. Wrestling it open, she stared at the breakers. "Shouldn't I have rubber gloves or something?" She glanced down at her wet feet.

"There's more power inside you than in that little box. You'll be fine."

With a deep breath, she heaved the breakers. They popped with a crack of ozone. The hum of power around them whined and settled into silence. Above, the car horns blared furiously as a quadrant of the suburb suddenly fell dark. Godric touched his radio earpiece with a finger. "Contact Team, you're a go."

On the surface level, Sebek replied. "Roger that. Contact Team moving out." Emir had idled their vehicle up the road from the villa. The modern compound was surrounded by high walls topped with razor wire. Rolling up to the gate, the security lights were out, and its entrance was cast in long, alleyway shadows. A hungry dog trotted aimlessly, nosing garbage pails for scraps. "Backdoor, what's your status?" Sebek asked Eric. "No one is at the front gate."

Eric responded from where he waited on the opposite side of the villa near the service entry. "Standby."

Pamela hit the button for the vehicle's moonroof. "Be safe," she told her maker. Eric winked at her and took to the sky in a blur.

While Eric investigated, Sebek tipped his nose into the air out the car window. He frowned. "Something is wrong."

"Guards are probably checking the generator," Emir supplied. It had come on briefly after the blackout then immediately sputtered out – thanks to his quick work on the gas reservoir the night before.

"Sitrep?" Godric asked anxiously from underground.

In a blink, Sebek was inside the gatehouse. Everything appeared to be in order. No signs of a struggle. No blood. He was about to respond when he noticed the desk phone dangling from its cord. Someone had left in a hurry. "Backdoor, report."

The radios hissed in silence as they waited for Eric to answer.

"Backdoor. Report now," Sebek demanded.

In the sewer, Godric felt Eric's sudden jolt of surprise. He did not hesitate. "Move!" he barked at Rosalyn. His feet took off in a shot, pounding furious splashes through the culvert.

"Wait!" Rosalyn shouted after him. He disappeared in a flash of light down the tunnel leading to Thea's courtyard. She caught up just as the radios finally sputtered alive.

"We've got a serious complication, guys," Eric told them. "Contact, I'm at the front gate."

"You were supposed to wait -" Sebek started to say. The gate buzzed and clanged. The heavy metal retracted and Sebek jumped past Eric, his curved sword drawn. Emir was right on his tail and collided into Sebek when the ancient skidded to a stop in his tracks. "What in the name of…" Sebek stared in confusion.

The courtyard was strewn with bodies. A dozen werewolf guards had been hacked to death. "Someone else had the same bright idea," Eric said. The villa had already been attacked – and very recently.

"We have company," Sebek told Godric. "Everyone stay alert. They're likely still here."

Emir bent down to inspect the wounds of one of the dead. The executions were done expertly and with extreme efficiency. Vampire, undoubtedly, and highly-skilled. "No one has visited the compound in weeks. I swear, Master." Sebek held up an impatient hand at his spy.

In the corner of the courtyard, there was rattle and scrape of metal. Godric's head popped up from a manhole hidden in the garden. He surveyed the carnage and pushed himself out.

Eric silently crossed the grounds, slipping through the shadows to check the curtain glass entryway. Bending around a pillar, he saw through the fluttering curtains that the floors were smeared with blood. More carnage awaited them inside. He swore in frustration.

Rosalyn wriggled out of the sewer. "Oh shit," she gasped. She hardly had a moment to register the massacre when a squeal of tires screeched outside the gate. The doors of several vehicles slammed.

"Ambush. Fall back!" Sebek ordered. It was too late to shove Rosalyn back into the sewer to hide. Eric grabbed her off the uneven gravel of the garden and set her a half pace behind him. She was armed with an ordinary katana and she leveled it at her cheek, ready. Eric took a similar stance. Checking over his shoulder, he nodded at her. "Atta girl. Wait for Maker."

A stream of men poured in through the gate. The guards howled at the sight of their slain packmates. Sebek took a step forward. "I am the Vizier of Egypt come to visit the Queen of Athens. We have found this court in disarray. Who has done this?" The men were without a clear leader and they paced in nervous circles before Sebek and argued among themselves. He tried again in slightly different Greek, thinking they did not understand. "Who has breached your gate?" he demanded.

"Show us ID," one of them said.

Godric dropped his head and let out a ripping growl in warning. "Answer him."

A werewolf in a baggy singlet pointed at the disemboweled guard with stars on his epaulets. "Niko called it in. He didn't see nothing. Just screams and the alarm."

"How long ago?" Sebek asked.

The man in the singlet shrugged. "Twenty minutes maybe. We were at the bar."

Godric shifted his gaze nervously between the blocked gate and the doors that that hemmed them in from behind. "We're caught in a pincer maneuver, Seb. Get rid of them."

"Why not we get rid of you!" one of the guards retorted in broken English. "How we know this not your handiwork, little boy?"

Godric sucked meanly at his teeth. "Because I haven't gotten started yet, pup."

"Hold, Godric," Sebek warned.

"Kill these lying bloodsuckers!" someone shouted.

"These fucking foreign fangers murdered our brothers," another offered. The other men jeered and howled in agreement. Before Sebek could offer a pacifying word, someone had ripped off their shirt in preparation to shift. The others followed suit. Godric pulled the swords from his back.

"Stupid motherfuckers," Eric muttered, shaking his head. He reached behind to Rosalyn, ready to rocket into the sky with her if needed.

"We mean you no harm," Sebek told the weres. "Turn around. Walk out. If you don't comply, this vampire here will end every last one of you. This is not a negotiation."

"What did you do to Mistress Calla?" a shirtless guard cried.

Sebek let out a thunderous growl. "Leave now - or stay and die!"

The man threw back his head at the waning moon. Godric flew into action before the pack could shift. He spun through the air at the group in a whirling, glinting flash of metal. There were no cries. No clash or struggle. When he landed seconds later, a dull, thudding rain fell around him.

Rosalyn slapped a hand over her mouth to catch a shriek. Ten men had been pacing the courtyard only moments before. All that remained of them were hunks of wet meat. The pavers ran black with blood, as did Godric's swords.

"Death," Emir said in sudden recognition. He stumbled backwards.

Godric jutted his spattered chin at the palace foyer. "We don't have time for this."

Sebek jogged lightly to the front door. When he opened it, a woman's muffled screams rang out from a corridor within. Godric snapped at his side, ordering his children to fall in behind him. Rosalyn's feet numbly obeyed.

The cries grew louder, accompanied by the scuffling of a struggle. The woman was being dragged toward the entrance. "Have mercy! I swear! I didn't know!" she begged.

"Calla," Eric hissed. Godric let out a rough grunt in agreement.

"Fan out," Sebek commanded. They quickly flanked the courtyard in the blind spots behind the entryway's columns. Sebek remained in the center of the path, sweeping a leg back and readying his sword.

A bronze tower of a vampire burst into the gardens with a struggling woman in his arms. She snapped and kicked viciously, to no effect. Her gown was ripped, her pinned curls in tousled ruins. From where Godric was posted, he could not get a clear view of the attacker.

The assassin halted in confusion. "Vizier?" He put his sword to Calla's throat. "This is not your fight."

At the sound of the vampire's voice, Godric made a strangled, anguished gasp. He scrabbled at the column beside him for support. That voice was impossible – an echo from centuries past. A torrent of unfiltered emotions slammed Rosalyn's bonds, sending her reeling. She fell against Godric's back. Gripping at his bulletproof vest, she looked across the breezeway to Eric for help. Eric stood open-mouthed and horror-struck, gripped by hesitation. He had dropped the arms holding his sword and axe to his side.

"Sebek!" Calla screamed. "For the love of the gods, save me!"

Her captor bared his teeth behind his blood-soaked beard. He caught Calla in a headlock and pointed his blade at Sebek in determination. "This is my vengeance, Ancient One. Do not interfere."

"I demand a tribunal!" Calla shrieked.

"She murdered her maker. She betrayed her kin. Her life is forfeit," the vampire said to Sebek. He looked skyward in prayer. "For Tarquin." He drew his sword over Calla's throat and clamped his mouth down on the wound. He drank and drank. Calla crumpled beneath his tall frame and still he glutted.

Rosalyn shook Godric hard, trying to snap him into action. He had turned to stone. She shot out into the middle of the path. "She's not yours to kill!"

The vampire turned. "I beg to differ," he replied. He dropped the shriveled, twitching shell of Calla's body. Beneath her sunken eyes and cracked lips, it was evident that she still lived. Bloodlust shined in the assassin's eyes as he took Rosalyn in. Beneath the glaze of blood, the man was gold-complexioned and powerfully built. His dark hair had half fallen out from a bun atop his head. The grimace faded from his lips and he huffed a bitter laugh. From behind her, Godric stepped out of the shadows, breathing heavily and blinking in incomprehension. Eric followed, equally dumbfounded.

Godric tilted his head in disbelief. "Arun of Gandhara. First of your line. You are not dead." His voice burned with betrayal.

"Arun?" Rosalyn blurted out. The assassin glanced at her knowingly before fixing his gaze back on Godric and Eric. It was impossible. Arun was the beloved brother Amleth had waxed fondly about for hours. His stories had poured out in a relieved flood, glad to remember him to someone not pained by his murder. But here, standing in the middle of the courtyard, was Arun Tarquinii, Tarquin's eldest and long-dead child.

Arun stared at Godric with a wounded expression. "You finally came to avenge us."

"This creature lies," Godric declared. "It is a shifter, or it uses witchcraft."

"I smell no magic on him," Sebek offered.

"What the fuck is going on in there?" Pamela demanded over their radios.

Eric touched his ear. "Not now, Pam. Keep the car running."

Arun dropped to his knees and sliced his palm on his blade. He held his arms wide, squeezing his fist and perfuming the air with his Tarquinii blood. "I swear on my sire's blood. It is me, Gohdiji."

Godric hissed in offense at the familiar nickname. He circled the assassin, weapons trained on him. Arun turned his sword on himself and offered the hilt to the Celt. "Forgive me, Great Guide. I can explain."

"Why are you here?" Godric barked. "Is this your treachery then? Your plotting against my House? You and Amleth and Thea?"

"What? No, Great One! I am here to avenge my murdered bloodkin."

"You sought to kill Calla before we could interrogate her," Godric accused. He whipped one of the Britlingen swords at Arun's throat and stopped just short of his skin. Arun wavered in his knees, then straightened, inviting the blow.

"I am yours to kill if you must. But please, let me explain."

"Why are you alive!" Godric said, fury and grief unhinging him.

"Thea tried. By the gods, she nearly succeeded, Gohdi. I have not lived. I've survived in cowardice and shame. I failed my House. Keeping away was the only way I knew to protect you."

"Protect me?!" Godric's voice hitched up an octave, incredulous.

"Protect you all. I did as you taught me."

Godric went to say something, but the words choked at the base of his throat. He ran a hand over his mouth, fighting back an incandescent rage. Eric looked around. "Is Sibyl…? Did she help you do this?" he asked, hope scrawled on his face.

Arun gave Eric an exhausted shake of his head. "I could not save her from Thea. I have come alone."

"Emir, search the compound," Sebek ordered.

"They're all dead," Arun offered wearily.

"You motherfucking asshole." Eric rushed at Arun and kicked his sword away, then drove a punch down through his face that flattened him to the ground. Arun coughed a splash of blood. "We grieved for you!" Eric said in accusation. "There hasn't been a night that's gone by that we haven't grieved! Centuries! Why would you do this to us?"

"Get back, Eric," Godric ordered sharply.

"Are you the Tarquinii patriarch then?" Sebek asked calmly. "Does Thea act at your command?" As the eldest sibling, he was the rightful heir to Tarquin's dynasty.

Arun let out a disgusted laugh and pushed himself off the ground. He felt tenderly at his broken cheekbone. The dent was slow to heal. "I have no House. Thea deserves the true death."

"On that, we can agree." Sebek twirled his sword and sheathed it. "Have you come to claim Athens?" he pressed.

The vampire scoffed. "I came because I have nothing left to lose. With Amleth murdered -"

"Murdered?" Godric growled. "He lives, you fiend, and has ripped my House and Sheriffdom apart. Where is he? Where is Thea?"

Arun sat back on his knees. "I don't understand. You mean…You're here looking for him?"

Godric was instantly at his throat again, his decision to kill wavering on a split-hair choice. "You had better know where they are or you'll be reviving that wretch you call a sister before I destroy you both."

"Gohdiji, please explain," Arun implored.

"It is you who owe me explanations. I owe you nothing!" Godric trembled in rage.

Rosalyn steadied him with a hand. "Let him speak."

"None of the reports have made any sense. I thought Amleth was killed. No one in London has seen him. The Queen has some puppet running his Sheriffdom," Arun said in a rush. "Only the true death would keep him from attending your wedding. When I heard your man Maelcon died along with Sonia after the ceremony, I knew you must have been in a fight with my accursed kin. Then you abandoned your Sheriffdom...I assumed..."

"You keep an awfully close watch on my affairs," Godric snarled.

"Only to look out for Amleth - to safeguard the last kin I would call mine."

"But he was mine," Godric seethed. "You've ordered him to do your bidding. You Tarquinii are all traitor spawn!"

"How could you -" Arun gasped. "What do you accuse Amleth of?"

Godric glared down at him hatefully. "Conspiracy to murder my pledged wife. Espionage against my House. Blood crimes against me, Arun Tarquinii. Crimes that run thick in your odious line."

"You think he was turned against you...?" Arun searched his lethal expression, then slumped in horror. "Gods preserve us. If that is the case, it is Roman that has him."

Godric lunged. Sebek caught him instantly in a crushing grip by the wrist. "Stand down, youngling."

"Maker," Eric pleaded as he struggled to restrain Godric's other free arm.

Sebek plucked the deadly swords from Godric's hands. He shoved him back hard and turned to Arun. "You have a great deal of explaining to do. Why should we believe you?"

Arun rose slowly to his feet. "I know where Roman's fortress lies. If you think he's on the run, it's where he'll have gone."

"You know this how?" Godric spat. "Because you serve him?"

"Where is it?" Sebek asked, ignoring the Celt.

"Turkey," Arun replied. "In a mountain pass not far from the Black Sea. I know of it because Thea bragged of the place as she was crucifying me for the sunrise."

Eric cocked his head at his maker. "The bitch always did run her mouth."

"It's where Roman took her and my sisters to radicalize them," Arun explained.

Godric chewed a lip. "She set you out to burn in the Moroccan sun?"

"And burn I did," Arun said with a wince. His cheek had turned an eggplant blue. "Why do you think I'm not healing as fast as I should? I've gone two centuries without my kin. I still haven't fully recovered."

Sebek stepped back in thought. "Godric, let us fall back to the safe house and see this one bathed. He will explain more and then we will decide whether or not to kill him."

Godric pointed to the pathetic husk of a vampiress on the ground. "Finish what you started."

Arun held his chin high. The aristocratic set of his jaw was remarkably similar to Amleth's. "With pleasure." Kneeling over Calla, he plunged his fist into her chest. "You are not worthy of Tarquin's gift," he told her. With a jerk of his arm, he pulled out her heart, ripe and shining like an apple. He offered it to Sebek, who declined the feast with a smile, and then to Godric, who bluntly refused. Arun bit into the organ whole and the vampiress exploded on the ground. Arun licked his fingers and lips clean, and his cheek began to rapidly fill out and heal.

"Standby, Pamela," Eric said to his earpiece. "We're ready for our extraction. You are never going to believe who's with us."

A/N: Thoughts? Theories? OhmyGodrics?! Leave a review if you have a moment. I love to hear your reactions. Reviewers get Sebek to fly them wherever they want with the companion(s) of their choice. xx, M