"If you were human, I'd take you for ice cream," Merrill said, once we were loaded into the car and driving through the huge iron gate that guarded Wlodek's drive.

"And if I were human, I'd eat it," I said.

"Franklin, what are you doing still up?" I scolded him when we walked into the kitchen half an hour later.

"Waiting on you," he said.

"Did you drink your berry smoothie and take the flaxseed oil?"

"I did. I never thought I'd see a vampire so health conscious, before," he laughed.

"Those berries have antioxidants and the flaxseed oil does the same thing the fish oil does, it just doesn’t have the taste to it," I said. "And even you can't stand there and say they aren't good for you."

"I'm convinced." He came over and hugged me. "I just want my goodnight kiss before I go to bed."

I kissed his cheek and watched him walk toward the stairs. "He's in great shape, I just want to keep him that way," I sighed as he walked out of earshot.

"I've offered to turn him many times," Merrill said. "He refuses every time and gets a bit testy over it, too. He tells me he likes to cook and to taste what he cooks."

"I'm right there with him on that," I said. "I only have the memory of what it tasted like. And that may go someday, too."

"Little girl, are you prepared for tomorrow evening? You should pack. Probably for four days, at least. I don't believe it will take that long but one can never tell."

"All right," I nodded. "Goodnight, Merrill."

"Goodnight, child."

Merrill drove the Range Rover to the airport. It was a stormy night and rain was pelting us as we made our way to the Council's private strip outside London. My passport and other important ID was in my purse; Merrill had scrounged up a wad of euros and handed them to me before we left the house. I probably had twelve hundred euros in my purse when I left the house, in addition to my credit card. Russell and Radomir were standing beside the steps leading to the Council's jet, waiting for me when Merrill and I arrived. My bags were loaded in while I boarded, and I sat down before my two flight companions did. Radomir ended up sitting next to me, Russell right across the aisle.

"Will wanted to come but I told him he had to stay home," Russell grinned.

"Will is guarding Wlodek while we are away," Radomir added. I just sat there between both of them, trying not to let my breaths sound too shaky. I liked Radomir, but maybe not that close. I hadn't forgotten what Merrill told me about Radomir, either; whatever you said to Radomir you said to Wlodek, since Wlodek was Radomir's sire.

"Have you done anything fun, lately?" Russell asked, reaching across the aisle to pat my hand. I think he may have recognized my discomfort.

"No. I did learn to drive on the wrong side of the road, but Merrill still doesn't trust me with his cars," I offered Russell a smile.

"You should come out with Will and me, sometime," Russell offered.

"And what do you do that's fun?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. I had no idea what vampires did for fun.

"Mostly they pick up women," Radomir said, a smile in his voice if not on his face.

"You pick up women? Do you put them down again?" It was out of my mouth before I thought.

"Oh, yeah," Russell was grinning.

"The Monet that you gave to the Honored One was a nice gift," I said, referring to the huge painting of water lilies that hung on a wall in Wlodek's study.

"He wanted it; I didn't particularly like it," Russell replied with a shrug. I knew it was a really nice gift; some of those paintings had sold for more than forty million pounds.

"So, did you hang up a print of dogs playing pool instead?" I asked. Radomir laughed.

"I did turn the space into a billiard room," Russell agreed with a stifled snicker.

"I knew it," I said, tossing up a hand. "And if you were human, your trash would be full of pizza boxes."

"I never got to taste a pizza," Russell observed.

"They're good," I said. "You strike me as a pepperoni kind of guy, leave the veggies off."

"Hear that, Rad?" Russell looked over my head at Radomir.

"Don't mess with him, he's the Italian sausage and extra cheese man," I said, pointing a thumb at Radomir.

"And what were you?" Russell was patting my hand again.

"Canadian bacon and mushroom," I said. "Thin crust. Thick was just too much bread for me."

"Charles told me you can't even finish a whole unit of blood," Russell teased.

"Does everybody talk about my eating habits?" I asked petulantly.

"Well, we don't have a lot of other information about you, so we have to discuss what we have," Russell said.

"This is a fact finding mission, so you can pass around the dirt?" I was teasing him right back.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "And the darker the dirt, the better."

Okay, I was really starting to like this guy. And he had no qualms over cracking the stone-faced façade that most vampires wore. "Did Brock tell you that one of my sins while I was human was glazed donuts?"

"Nah, Merrill doesn't let him gossip about anything that goes on inside the house," Russell grumped.

"I won't be discussing Merrill, either," I said. "I'll talk about me as long as it's harmless. That's all you get."

"Damn," Russell pretended to be upset.

"You were married before?" Radomir asked.

"Yes. He's been dead eight months as of yesterday," I said. "As have I, I suppose. My ex sister-in law can't wait to put the date of death on my headstone so she can get her hands on my house and the insurance money."

"You already have a headstone?" Russell asked.

"It was one of those double ones and my husband's information is on one side. They put my name and date of birth on the other. I'd left my side blank. My sister-in-law will have to wait the standard seven years unless she gets a sympathetic judge or something."

"Does it make you want to go back and slap your sister-in-law around?"

"No. That part of my life is over," I answered Russell's question. "It's neither here nor there what she does with my stuff."

The plane trip was short and we landed at Charles de Gaulle International Airport in no time. A car waited there for us, complete with driver. We stowed our bags in the boot—that's what Russell calls the trunk, (he has such a nice British accent) and we were on our way.




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