Russell waited for me when I got to the Council's private hangar. It was misty outside—London at its November finest. Merrill talked while he'd driven me to the airport. I was the experiment, he'd said. The first officially cooperative effort between vampires and werewolves (like I hadn't been there already). Merrill said he was hopeful that the trend could continue; future alliances could be beneficial to both sides. I realized that as well as he did. Werewolves could move about freely during the day, something the vampires would never be able to do. A single vampire was generally much stronger than a single werewolf. If they combined their efforts, rogues could be captured swiftly. On both sides. I hadn't heard any more about the Briggs family—did Lester have others out there, waiting to cause trouble for the werewolf community? Briefly, I wondered about Tony, whom I'd met in Corpus Christi. He was the Director of the joint NSA and Homeland Security Department and sole purchaser of the software Winkler had developed. He'd been such a nice person to talk to and to know.

"And there's the little mister now," Russell grinned at me while another vampire loaded my luggage onto the plane. Will arrived shortly after I did, and I surprised him greatly by giving him an unsolicited hug.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?" He was completely confused by my gratitude.

"For standing up to Gavin as much as you did when he brought me back from Corpus Christi," I said.

"Now, is this the same Gavin you're engaged to?" Russell looked puzzled.

"Yeah. The schmuck."

"It's the same Gavin, all right," Will snickered.

"Lissa, I am not even going to mention to Gavin that you hugged someone else," Merrill said.

"Good," I said. "Russell, do you want a hug, too?"

"I'll take whatever I can get," Russell said, embracing me.

"Now there's another one you can hide from Gavin," I handed Merrill a level glance.

"You must be quite angry with him," Merrill observed.

"I am. Have a nice Christmas." I waved at him and trotted up the steps to board the jet.

* * *

"He's a little controlling," Merrill almost coughed into his hand.

"No. Gavin? No way!" Will's voice dripped with sarcasm. "That girl was crying the whole way from New York to London and he sat there and did nothing. Fucker." Will never minced his words.

"Come on, Will, let's get going. You can talk to Lissa and trade horror stories about Gavin on the way," Russell slapped Will on the back.

* * *

"Merrill," Franklin looked up from the grocery list he was writing out at the kitchen island.

"Franklin."

"Father."

"Child?"

Franklin sighed and looked at the only father he'd ever known. Merrill would always look as he did. Franklin was growing older with the years. "Lissa feels trapped, father."

"Tell me something I don't know," Merrill grumbled.

"If Gavin doesn't loosen his grip, he's going to lose her."

"I know that too."

"I don't really know how to say this next part." Franklin felt uncomfortable for the first time in a long time. He'd considered telling Merrill that Lissa cared for her surrogate sire in more than a fatherly way, but eventually decided against it. Merrill's affections lay elsewhere and nothing Franklin might do could change that.

"Then just say it. That's the best way." Merrill wasn't in the mood for subtlety.

"Lissa knows things, father. Somehow, I get the feeling that there will come a day when none of you will be able to control her. And she won't forget how she was treated or what was done to her."

"Griffin says the same thing."

"Well, Griffin would know if anyone would." Franklin went back to his list.

* * *

Russell and Will made me laugh on the trip, which was a welcome change. They called each other names, too. I heard a lot of "prick" and "asshole," among other things, all while teasing each other unmercifully, along with several dirty jokes, which also made me laugh. The night in New York was uneventful; we got back on the jet the following evening and flew into Grand Forks. Unsurprisingly, Winkler was there waiting for me, along with a werewolf I hadn't met before—someone named Kelvin Morgan.

"Kelvin's new in the Dallas Pack. Davis is there keeping things in hand while I'm away," Winkler grinned at me while Will and Russell handed my bags off to him and Kelvin, who stowed them in the back of the Escalade Winkler was driving. The man had more money than was decent. Or werewolf, I should say.

I got a friendly hug from both Will and Russell before they ran back up the steps to the Council's jet. They were heading to Chicago and then on to assignments from there. I didn't ask and they didn't tell me. "Come on, time's a wastin' and we have to get you into bed before sunrise," Winkler teased. Honestly, I just wanted to tell him to shut the hell up. He'd ruined some really good clothes the last time I'd seen him, never mind the fact that Gavin had been so pissed he could have spit and then scrubbed me in a shower afterward, all while cursing in multiple languages.

"I sure hope you're not offended by vampires," I told Kelvin when he leaned over the passenger seat to look at me while Winkler drove like a maniac over the dirt and gravel roads leading to Weldon's place.

"Nope. Not a problem," he grinned.

Weldon was still up when we arrived, although it was nearly five in the morning. "Kathy Jo and Daryl are asleep," Weldon whispered as he led us through the house. Weldon had added onto his log home since I'd seen it last. It was now nearly twice as large. I complimented him on the changes. The inside had been redecorated; more than likely from Kathy Jo's influence and the fact that she was going to give birth to Weldon's first grandchild before long.

I was given the same bedroom I'd had the last time. The deer head had been removed from the wall and I was grateful for that. Honestly, that glassy-eyed stare right above my head would have given me nightmares if I'd been capable of having them. Maybe I should have asked Weldon to put Lester Briggs' wolf head on the wall instead; I might not mind seeing that, to be honest. Lester and his seditionist werewolves nearly killed me months earlier with their bites and the werewolf saliva that was subsequently trapped in my body.

"We leave tomorrow afternoon for Des Moines," Weldon informed me as we both stood before his massive fireplace. He also gave other information that might have made my blood run cold if it weren't already. "We have a body bag for you and we'll be packing you inside it, so wear something to sleep in that you won't mind us packing you up in," he said.




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