The fairy spark seared white hot through Amleth's body, slamming down into his chest and knocking him backwards onto the mattress. A pounding ecstasy unlike any he had ever experienced followed. Wave after orgasmic wave overtook him. He thrashed and writhed. Lost himself more times than he could count. Eventually, just before the pleasure became agony, it resolved into a fizzing giddiness that danced like a stream over his skin. He was laughing then, laughing fits. The fairy blood sunk into his flesh, finally reaching his bones, where it recognized something familiar deep within him. The Fae light curled around his own dark spark and the two magicks fused. Amleth gasped back into consciousness - reborn.

Roman stood over him, a statue of unmoving rage. "You ate my fairy."

Did he know? Could he tell? Amleth blinked. "Thank you. I feel rather…improved."

"You ate my fairy!" Roman thundered.

"Compliments to the house. Best meal I've had. Truly."

Roman could have lashed out and ended him right there. Instead, he did something even more terrifying. He smoothed his fury into a mask of total calm. Plans and more unpredictable plans spun behind his sunken eye sockets. He was recalibrating, resetting the game board, shifting every play.

"I, uh, didn't care much for Neave's proposal," Amleth said. Eating the fairy whole hadn't exactly been a tactical choice. He saw a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he took it. He was talking fast now, stumbling over his own words. "Lure Niall, kill Niall, lure Breandan, crown Breandan. All that running around trusting our business to fairies - for what? Cut out the middle man, I say, and get down to the real business. You don't need another psycho Brigant prince to help you end mainstreaming. You've got me."

Roman spoke as though he were made of stone. "You. A key conspirator in the Great Reveal. The co-creator of Tru Blood."

"Your inside man," Amleth qualified, his smile beatific. "Soon to be former investor. Imagine how Tru Blood's stocks will plummet when I sell off my shares. Bet against them, your fortunes will soar. Plus, with that two billion and change you pocketed from the School of Night Fund, we can buy a ton of pro-donor feeding advertising. We could bag a few key politicians to repeal AVL-backed legislation-"

"'We'?" Roman spat.

"Of course. Let's use our ties with Prince Niall to our benefit. If the Prince is at war, he'll have prisoners. Prisoners are a pain in the arse to house and feed - as you know. Let's offer to take some of those condemned fairies off his hands, eh? There's your supply of fae blood right there."

A frightening smile slid across Roman's lips. "My Ambassador to the Fae is finally ready to act like my ambassador. You weren't forthcoming before. I rarely ask twice."

What Roman had asked for was Sookie Stackhouse, the only true heir to Faerie's throne. Amleth had refused. "Yes, um, well, my Queen's instructions," he lied, the impulse to protect Godric instinctive. "If I am no longer Sheriff of London -"

"You are not."

Amleth swallowed a rising knot of fear. He did not like where this was heading. "Then I no longer have conflicting orders."

"And I still don't have a fairy. Because of you."

Amleth had no clever reply.

"It's difficult to find a fairy with the spark these days," Roman said. "How fortunate that I know where to find one." Before Amleth could try to bargain further, Roman spun out of the room in a flash of cashmere pinstripes, barking orders to have him sent back to the dungeon.

"Roman? Roman!" Amleth called after him, his voice hitching up an octave in panic. The chains snapped against his wrists as he wrenched forward. "Shit!" he swore to himself.

Sookie was in immediate danger - along with their entire peace treaty with the Fae.

Because of him.

~OOO~

Sebek led Godric through a maze of parlors to a media room. Floor to ceiling shelves were stacked with music and film recordings made in every conceivable format. The Vizier closed the doors behind them.

"He made it through," Godric said in an excited rush. Arun had survived the Poison Oracle. Not only had the administration phase not killed him - a dicey element of an even dicier instrument - the serum had not detected a lie. His testimony was true. "I believe him."

Sebek tipped his head from side to side. "Iset will want more. His case is compelling. It is not yet convincing."

"So help her get the answers she needs." Godric's features grew wide-eyed and boyish.

Sebek softened momentarily, then sobered. "There is something you should know." His tone was suddenly grave, and alarm rang through Godric's limbs. "Arun's account has reminded me of something that may be important. I had not thought of it until now."

"Go on."

"I must refer again to more indelicate matters. Matters we only just agreed not to discuss. I'd rather you not demand another of my concubines in retribution."

"I'll behave. What is it?"

Sebek appraised him for a long, skeptical moment. "Shortly after the demise of your maker, I recall hearing that a certain Roman in the Aegean was interested in you."

The admission nearly knocked him down. "You knew of Roman that long ago? Why didn't you say something!"

Sebek made a croak in indignation. "I've known a great many Romans, young friend. Only now, I don't wonder if this was the High Counselor. Perhaps using the name for the first time?"

"What did he want?" A small voice inside him knew. What they all wanted. His talent. His body. His talented young body. Godric shuddered.

"There was a reward for information about you or your whereabouts. I did not oblige, mind you. It strikes me now that the messenger attached an odd importance to the fact that you had, shall we say, conveniently found yourself 'orphaned'."

Sebek's careful wording and knowing smile chilled Godric to the bone. He blinked several times to process the information. He did not acknowledge the very dangerous and very real insinuation that he might have had a hand in his wretched maker's death. He sat down next to a tower of CDs and ran his fingers over the jewel cases. Early 1990s. Seattle sound. Sad kids with mad guitars. "Lost children are troubled. They cause trouble in turn. Who better to shelter them than a prestigious ancient."

Sebek nodded in agreement. "No one questions the intentions of generous elders when they solve others' problems."

"You've kept me guessing." Godric eyed him.

Sebek waved the idea away. "I meant normal vampires." Godric was about to retort something unkind when he added, "You are exceptional, young man. And you were given every reason to distrust your elders. No one should have to endure what you survived."

Godric pinched his brow, trying to stave off how physically ill this topic made him. "We can agree that the average newborn just wants the thrill of the hunt and the safety of a master."

"Not you."

"No. But we aren't talking about me."

"Shouldn't we be?"

"What –"

"If you were a prize that escaped Roman, perhaps it is part of his vendetta against you, no? This too explains why Roman would harbor a grudge against Tarquin. He interfered in Roman's plans. He protected you in those dangerous years after Ocella's death."

Hearing his accursed maker's name spoken out loud suddenly and after so long nearly made Godric vomit. Unfortunately, Sebek had a very good point. "Say Roman picks up vulnerable children. Ones without family or purpose. He makes them his wards." Suppose he had gotten ahold of me.

"Those with unusual abilities could be groomed and used with far more impunity than a normal asset. The high and honorable walls of the Council give total cover for Roman's actions." Sebek paused, thinking. "He is known to possess remarkable powers of persuasion."

"Every single orphan associated with the Council must be presumed to be a spy."

"Even your Amleth." Godric made a noise in cold agreement. "How did he get to him, I wonder?"

"I cannot understand it. I thought I protected him well." He felt foolish confessing his arrogance in front of his elder. "Amleth never attended closed court with Roman after the murders. The few conventions where they both had to be present, I had extra security in place. I kept him close."

"Perhaps you smothered him."

Godric shook his head. If anything, the opposite was true. Amleth had wanted to live with him in his nest and dote on him like a senile elder. He had wanted more than that, if he was being honest with himself. Godric had refused. Insisted that he live his own life, just as he had with Eric. The question niggled at him. Who in his circle had he not kept close?

"Thank you for sharing this intel, Vizier. And gods bless you for not sending Roman's spies my way."

"You are most welcome. I wish I had done more. I wish I had killed the one who sired you myself."

"You could always say you did," Godric joked.

Sebek chuckled a low, menacing laugh. "Would that please you?"

"If I never think of that beast again it would be too soon."

"Then let it be so. I killed your villain maker- he had it coming. This will be the story of our happy past."

"Sebek…" Godric was surprised by the rush of emotion the promise gave him. "My lord. You honor me with your faith and friendship."

"We are getting there, aren't we." Scores were being settled. Debts paid. Godric still feared the unseen cost.

As they made their way back to the interrogation, Godric tugged the coin around his neck up and down its chain in thought. "You do care for this son of Tarquin, I think," Sebek observed. "Arun is very pretty."

Godric stopped in his tracks. "If you take liberties with our prisoner, then know that I will take no responsibility for what Rosalyn does when she hears of it."

Sebek let out a belly laugh. He jostled an arm around Godric. "Oh my dear boy! Heaven forbid you admit to having feelings for any of them."

Godric shrunk beneath the firm meat of the elder's arm. "You're going to have me take Arun's daywatch today, aren't you?"

"Only if he survives," Sebek replied, eyes glittering. "What will your wife say then?"

Considering Rosalyn couldn't figure out whether she wanted to strangle Arun or devour him whole, probably too much and none of it a good idea. Godric sighed. "Let's just get him through the next round of questioning."

~OOO~

Eric waited for the proceedings to resume, ruminating on the strange events that had brought him to Arun's trial in a Cypriot pleasure palace. The year had been one clusterfuck after another. Bill Compton had come sniffing around his Sheriffdom in search of a way to fill Queen Sophie-Anne's eternally empty pockets. The discovery of the Fae heiress in Eric's backyard gave the Queen something to sell. Sophie-Anne had stupidly, and unbeknownst to her, tried to sell Sookie straight to his immortal enemies. Enemies who, in turn, spotted an opportunity to undermine him even more and asked the Queen to hijack his little fiefdom for them, too. The thought of prudish Calla trying to run Area Five - his grubby, werewolf infested, backward-as-fuck Area Five - was absurd. Eric ought to feel flattered that the Egyptian Queen thought so highly of his long-game maneuvering. He didn't.

Something didn't sit well with him. Eric replayed the series of events, this time arranging and rearranging them without the assumptions he was using to order them. The Queen's debts. Compton's arrival. Sookie. The Tarquinii girls. Sookie. The Queen's debts. Compton.

Just as he hit on a realization, his maker returned, palling about with the Vizier. Eric stood. To hell with decorum. "Lord Sebek, may we continue?"

Iset hissed at him. "Hardly for you to decide, Viking. Sit down."

Godric traced the shape of Eric's thoughts. "You have a question for the Inquisitors?"

Eric gave a half-bow. "With respect, Vizier, when you interrogated Sonia, did she reveal when she and her sisters set their sights on Area Five?"

"Recently," Sebek resumed his seat, intrigued. "But you are asking something else, I suspect."

"The Tarquinii clearly leveraged Sophie-Anne's shitty finances over her. I'm wondering when they did. Was it to acquire an asset that the Queen of Louisiana had discovered - or did they encourage Sophie-Anne to hunt for something they already suspected was in my territory?"

Sebek's expression grew solemn as he recognized the importance of the question. "Sonia used the last North American summit as cover to meet with Sophie-Anne."

Eric sat back and cast a grim, self-satisfied look at his maker. "They were already in talks two years ago. Tarquin's girls knew Sookie was there. That sure explains why Compton's appearance felt so unprovoked. I didn't provoke it - they did."

"What's a Sookie?" a voice croaked. Everyone turned to Arun, who was listing sideways and drooling a thin river of blood. Godric and Sebek exchanged a silent look, then Sebek nodded at Iset.

"You tell us," Iset said. Arun frowned and shook his head. "You've never heard of Sookie?"

"No. What is it?"

"Not what. Who."

Arun shrugged. "Odd name. Is it short for something?"

Iset hummed. "Different question. Have you had any dealings with the Stackhouse family?"

"No."

"Ever been to Louisiana?"

"I've never been to the Americas," Arun laughed.

"Right. You've allegedly been in Burma all this time."

"In the Burmese Kingdom," he corrected. The vampire kings' territory was larger than humans' national borders.

"Right. So. We left off at teak." Iset gestured for him to continue.

"Mandalay grew too big. The teak trade dried up. I moved down the coast to what the humans claim as Thailand. I eventually got into tourism." He gave Eric a sheepish glance. "I run a guest house and little bar. Thatch roof. Sand floor. Nothing flashy like Fangtasia."

"You have stayed remarkably well-informed for someone trying to maintain a low profile," Iset drawled.

"Respectfully, Princess, we do have the internet in Asia."

"And Egypt has contacts everywhere. King Tharrawaddy has made no mention of you."

"Why would he? I've never had an audience with him. I lead a simple life. The closest district governor is hundreds of kilometers away. I catch up on our affairs when I pay taxes, but otherwise I avoid our kind."

"Sounds remote. The gift of flight must make these clandestine meetings easier."

Arun shook his head vigorously at her. "I cannot fly! Why do you keep saying otherwise?"

"Because Thea can."

"That's impossible."

Godric spoke up. "I saw it with my own eyes. She killed Maelcon mid-air."

Arun sunk back in shock. "I cannot explain that. Maker did not have this power. I do not have it." Iset and Sebek paused for the poison to act. Nothing happened.

"You say you're caught up on your taxes. What's the state of your finances?" Iset asked.

"Embarrassing? I don't have much, but then I don't need much either."

"No progeny?"

"That would definitely not be low-profile."

Sebek tried a different line of questioning. "Perhaps the accused would like to tell us about the last time he spoke with Roman?"

Arun's face soured. "1707. The Paris summit. He came as part of the Vienna delegation. No one knew him or knew why he was attached to that retinue. He claimed to be advising them on sanitation."

Iset turned to Godric. "Did you attend?"

"I did, your Highness."

"And? What do you recollect?"

"Roman stuck out, more than when I first met him. The entire Viennese delegation was half-starved from drinking plague blood except him. He was obviously not a resident of the territory or he would have been sick too. Apart from being a wandering elder, though, he did not raise any red flags."

"He is very good at seeming harmless," Arun offered. "I chaired the social mixer event that year. Roman circled around the younger ones asking simple questions about their duties, giving small compliments on jobs well done. He stayed just aloof enough to not seem creepy."

"Did he spend time with Thea or Amleth?" Sebek pressed.

"They had other duties with Godric."

Godric clarified. "Thea was normally sent abroad for large events. She had to be watched closely not to give offense or start a fight. I kept them busy, but who can say what they got up to? It may have been Thea's first introduction to Roman."

"Tarquin noticed Roman's hovering around the younglings," Arun said. "He pulled me aside and warned me to keep him away from my staff. He didn't like that his servants were all makerless. It only made sense much later."

"Once it was too late," Iset quipped. "And you did nothing to warn the rest of us that he might be a risk."

Arun dropped his head in shame. Fat blood tears rolled from his eyes. "He never attended another summit until…after." After he became High Counselor.

Godric lurched forward in his seat. "Las Vegas," he said, suddenly remembering. He shot a terrifying look at Sebek. "Amleth's children attended the Las Vegas summit. They were there when Sonia and Thea were plotting."

They were the ones he had not kept close.

~OOO~

Amleth found himself cast back into the crumbling dungeon. He knelt beside the sagging mattress and closed his eyes in concentration. His body relaxed. Slowly, he released the tendrils of his call to his children. Constantine. Eva. Hear me.

He focused on the psychic cord and the strength he felt welling up inside him and he called and called. Hear me. There is danger, my darlings. Roman is coming for Sookie. Warn Eric! Save her! Escape!

Through the fog of distance, he could feel Eva's alarm and fear. She had heard him. Where is your brother? he asked when Constantine remained silent.

With me.

Injured? He pressed.

Silence again, this time from both.

Constantine! Amleth demanded. His child was there, like a wall, pushing back. Eva's fear ballooned.

Something was not right. Something was very, very wrong.

~OOO~

Innocent. Rosalyn felt Godric's relieved call wash over her mind. The trial had concluded. Come back.

While the inquisitors had been at work, she had meandered through the palace orchards and discovered a gate at the back of the garden. It was locked. Beyond it the rolling sound of the sea beckoned her. It was a simple enough task to leap over the high whitewashed wall. A well-worn terraced path cut through the limestone cliff and led down to a sheltered cove. The beach was abandoned save for an upturned wooden skiff half-buried in a dune. Further offshore, a slick-looking yacht was moored. No one was on board.

Now Eric reached out to her with a plaintive, piercing call like an owl. She pulled her feet from the foamy surf and headed back up the grassy dune.

When she reached the balcony stairs, the stomach curdling stench of Iset's cauldron hit her like a fist. She pinched her nose and forced herself to trudge through it. Eric and Godric stood in the lounge, wrists covered in blood, untangling a mass of chains. Bloody phlegm was splashed all over a settee and smeared in gouts on the floor in an apparent struggle.

"Did you…Is he…?" Rosalyn was horrified.

"Bathing." Eric glanced awkwardly at his hands and grabbed a towel from Iset's work table. "We helped him up."

"Why don't you put your questions to him," Godric suggested. "While he's still pliant."

Pliant? Her mouth traced the word silently in disbelief. "Niobe is with him," he added for incentive.

Eric caught her by the arm before she could dash off. "Remember your promise to me." He caressed the soft crook of her elbow with a thumb. Her empathy was his tonight - or there would be consequences. Rosalyn nodded.

She found more traces of the interrogation in the baths. Bloodied clothes leached red trails on the marble. Niobe knelt at the pool's edge, pouring a pitcher of steaming water over Arun's hair. She lit up when she saw Rosalyn enter.

"Join me, if you like," Arun said, not opening his eyes. Even turned a shade of mottled green, his beauty was still arresting. "You have questions too, I think? Ask them. I will answer."

"My god. What did they do to you?"

Her concern surprised him. "Poisoned me with one of their potions."

"Like a truth serum?"

"No." He inched up to rest his elbows on the pool's edge. The effort caused him some discomfort. "Like poison. An answer truthfully or you die kind of deal. Better than some alternatives. I'm alive."

"They didn't fully cure you," she guessed.

The corner of his mustache twitched up. "Released, but not free to go."

"Do you need anything?"

It was his turn to study her. "You are a strange woman, if you don't mind me saying. Elders do not offer themselves up to newborns for questioning. You prefer to squander this chance to ask after my well-being?"

"Godric will fill me in."

"Sure. Eventually." He smiled knowingly.

Draped there, he looked like a painting. Rosalyn was determined to not be distracted by him. She turned to Niobe. "I was looking for you."

Niobe left the soaking vampire and went to her. "I have a message for you. From your maker."

Rosalyn balked. "Okay?"

"He asks if you are listening."

"Oh god."

"You're listening?"

She gritted her teeth. "Yes."

"Then I am supposed to tell you that I am your discipline."

Arun let out a peal of laughter so hard he lost his hold on the lip of the bathing pool and sank with a flail and a splash.

"What does that even mean?" Rosalyn cried.

Niobe took her hand and stroked it. "Lord Sebek has recommended your House to me as a potential client, and Lord Godric has proposed that I be placed in your service, but I'd like to interview you. There are certain concerns about your household. Where do you hold court, for example? And there's the matter of your age. We have a lot to talk about."

Rosalyn's mouth hung open."I don't want a courtesan. What am I going to do with a courtesan!?" She looked to Arun for help.

"I can think of quite a few things you might do with her," Arun replied.

"Then you have her!"

"Oh, ho, Madam, no." He held up his hands. Long, sensually shaped hands. "Whatever Gohdiji intends, he did not want me involved. It was important enough to break my neck over it."

"He what ?"

Arun repeated himself, and explained how their elders had argued the previous night, and that he'd woken up to them having cut some deal, all smiles again. "So you see, your maker did not want me aware of the specifics."

Rosalyn reached blindly for something to fall down on. Niobe caught her, and began petting her and shushing her. "Don't ruin that beautiful dress. Goodness, that is nice. Come on. On your feet."

"It is a very nice dress," Arun agreed, his gaze combing admiringly over her.

Rosalyn stared dumbly. That's why Godric had his hands all over Arun. To knock him out. She felt idiotic. And shocked. He appeared unconcerned.

"Let's talk in the practice room," Niobe suggested. "No one will bother us there. Come on, you," she ordered Arun.

They reconvened in a quiet chamber with low seating where the entertainers kept their instruments. Arun, now dressed, gestured for her to sit beside him. She sat across from him instead, keeping her distance. Niobe lingered in the corner, toying with a keyboard.

Mentally, Rosalyn channeled the energy of her tight outfit into her best Basic Instinct impression. "Godric will tell me about the trial. I want you to tell me about the things Godric won't want to say."

Arun let out another infectious laugh. "Oh I like you, Lady Rosalyn. I like you very much." She waited, and he laughed again, shaking his head.

"I suppose we could begin at the beginning?" she suggested.

Arun flashed her another smoldering grin. "Sure."

"Your homeland. Gandhara? I've never heard of it."

"A ruined kingdom," he said dismissively. "All but forgotten today. You'd find it in Pakistan."

"Lord of the Five Rivers?" she asked, wondering about one of his titles.

"A handy way to describe where you might have once found me. Next to a muddy watering hole. Nothing so eloquent as your own title, Mistress of Mirth." He spoke gently, with a half-smile. His demeanor was almost shy, and it was decidedly irresistible. It wasn't practiced. He was simply that magnetic. Rosalyn wanted to reach through time and throttle Tarquin for the vampires he had made.

"And the last two hundred years?" she prompted.

He nodded and averted his gaze. "A life of shame, madam. Shame and shadow. Tarquin's line and legacy was my responsibility. You see what it has become."

Rosalyn glanced toward the hallway and slid closer to him. She dropped her voice. "And Amleth? Do you really think he was compromised?"

"You have doubts?" he said, clearly alarmed. She bit her lip and gave no reply. His expression turned grave. He leaned forward to close the gap between them. Their knees were nearly touching. "The accusations against him have not been explained in any detail to me yet. You should not say anything to me without Godric's permission."

"I…right. Thanks. Sorry. I'm crap at this."

"No. You're new at this. There's a difference."

They whispered in confidence, his damp hair tumbling around his ears. He was exquisite - and familiar. She couldn't understand how someone so physically unlike Amleth could resemble him so much. She struggled to moderate her curiosity. Another time, she told herself. "It's not a secret that Eric has always maintained Amleth's innocence. He still does."

Arun blinked in understanding. "He and Amleth are very, very close."

"And what about you?"

"Amleth is the only blood of mine left." He met her gaze fully. "What would you do if you were in my shoes?"

Her gut answered immediately. She would kill for Eric. A shiver ran down her spine in realization. There was violence and murder in her veins. She refocused. "I meant what is Eric to you?"

"Ah. A brother in arms lost," he admitted painfully. "Eric will never forgive me for Sibyl's death." He swallowed hard. "I'll never forgive myself."

She reached for his wrist and caught herself mid-air. He looked at her fist hanging awkwardly. "You'll learn. It was hard for Eric too."

"Shit," she muttered, and tucked her fingers beneath her thighs.

"I nested with your family on and off for decades, Rosalyn. You're not revealing anything to me I don't already know. Keep going. You're doing fine." He bit back a smile. "I'm enjoying it. You're much nicer to talk to than Iset."

She turned her head away. It mortified her to ask. "Were you and Godric ever…?"

Arun looked perplexed for a moment, then exploded in laughter. Wiping at his eyes he shook his head. "Gods, little vampiress, you are the funniest thing! Are you asking me if I was Death's lover ?" he said, as if it were the most insane thing ever uttered.

"No?"

"No! Most certainly not."

"Why is that such a stupid question?"

He sobered and gave her a sympathetic look. "Because even your maker can't kill other vampires without a good reason. The Godric I knew killed anyone and everyone who came too close to him. He took no lovers. If he satisfied his lust in the hunt, he didn't share it with us, and the humans never lived to tell of it." Rosalyn tried and failed to ask for clarification. He waved dismissively toward the rest of the palace where the other elders were gathered. "That man there is not the creature I grew up with. He is open. Sensible. Death was worse than a nightmare."

"But," she whispered, her desire to understand bitter in her mouth. "You were blood bonded."

He scoffed. "Not like that. You're mistaken."

"That's a lie. Eric said -"

"It was never a mutual bond," he corrected sharply. "Godric coerced my blood from me. Or at times, bound me to him."

"He forced his blood on you?" she said, flabbergasted.

"It surprises you? Godric despised me in those early days. He saw me as a dangerous weakness in his and Tarquin's empire. And I was a headstrong youngling like yourself once too. I tried to run away from them. Godric made it so that I couldn't. But that's ancient history."

Rosalyn pressed her temples, trying to digest it. "Tarquin allowed this?"

He huffed. "It was my maker who left me in his care. I was just glad Godric didn't slit my Achilles tendons to the bone to keep me from fleeing. He was a fucking animal back then." He studied her in amusement. "You were worried there was something more between us?" She shrugged. "My dear young one, I am not competition. There is no competition. There is Eric, there is you, and there is no one else for that vampire."

She looked up at him with a pained expression. "That's why I'm so afraid for Amleth."

~OOO~

Giddy men and women poured out of the delivery van and into the palace. "For your enjoyment," Sebek said with a flourishing bow. He had ordered an assortment of blood donors for his guests. They wore pink boutonnieres pinned to their shirts and blouses to set them apart from his own human retinue.

Pamela crossed her arms. "This had better not be a god damned trick. I'm famished."

Eric took her lightly by the elbow. "Eat lite and don't be picky. There are eyes on us."

Pamela blew at her bangs. "Whatever you do, don't enjoy yourself Pam," she mocked. Eric replied with a glacial stare and she relented. "Fine. I'll be discreet."

The drummers and other percussionists worked their instruments into a sultry rhythm. At Akhet House, every night descended into rollicking decadence. Rosalyn found Godric sitting unobtrusively amongst the roiling bodies and music, hands folded in his lap. She took a seat beside him. He smiled up at her. "Did you get the answers you were after?"

She leaned to his ear. "You have some serious fucking issues. A thousand years of therapy wouldn't be enough."

He bounced in silent laughter. "You see now why I didn't want to explain myself. There is no explaining what I was."

"Jesus actual Christ, Godric. If I could unhear what I just heard, I would."

He put his arm around her and nuzzled her. "You are a passionate woman, Ros, and I am all yours."

She shrugged off his hug. "Don't try to love-bomb your way out of this. How am I supposed to look after a human in this mess?" She gestured at the war party on the verge of an orgy.

Across from them, Pamela was drinking from a redhead while her hand did less than discreet things beneath the donor's skirt. Arun was flanked by two humans who were licking his chest and face like he was a candy bar. And Eric sat coolly next to Niobe, as if to guard her. He quirked a suggestive eyebrow at Rosalyn and sipped a martini glass. 'No!' Rosalyn mouthed at him. He was not going to have her. Not now that she had to be responsible for her. Eric shrugged carelessly and wandered off to find someone else. Sebek was deep in an ancient board game with Iset, making plays between sips from a nubile young thing on his lap. Iset's own donor was already half-unconscious on the couch, pants forgotten around his knees.

Godric confided to Rosalyn, "It is customary for courtesans to have a personal interview. Perhaps we should offer her our room?"

Rosalyn felt her blood rush wild with desire. Again she forced control over herself. "How could you possibly be in support of her line of work given your past?"

Godric blinked innocently. "She is a courtier by choice."

"It's sex work!"

Godric laughed at her. "Sometimes. Courtesans support the functions of a court, love. They're trained to bring elegance and order to a House. They see out royalty's wishes and serve as daytime helpers. You wouldn't begrudge the Queen of England for her private secretary, would you?"

"Then send her to a royal household, Godric. Maybe Isabelle could use her in New Orleans?"

"You could offer Niobe that, certainly. It is her decision. She chooses her client, not the other way around."

"Why are you doing this to me," Rosalyn whined.

"You know why." He slid his fingertips from her bare knee up under the hem of her dress. "Your maker has given you a rare gift. I called in Sebek's greatest debt to me for it. You will accept it, and you will appreciate it, however you see fit. And Rosalyn? You will learn from it." He tipped her chin in Niobe's direction. Arun had shooed away his overzealous donors and had snared her in some amusing exchange. She laughed and blushed, making the blood dance under her skin in pink eddies. "Be honest. Tell me you don't want it."

Rosalyn grabbed Godric's groin and he rumbled a snarl in desire. "Our room then?" he suggested.

They were about to excuse themselves when a servant brought in a phone for Sebek on a brass tray. The Vizier set aside his meal, dabbed the corners of his mouth on a napkin, and took the call. Iset motioned for quiet from the musicians.

"Greetings to you too," he said to the voice on the line. "I see…Yes…Understood…Yes, he is here." He offered the phone to Eric.

Eric took it in alarm. "This is Northman." His eyes shot to Godric. "Thalia." He listened for a moment. He went pale. "Sookie or Constantine - who's the priority?" he asked his maker.

Godric was already on his feet, the phone snatched into his hand. "Save Sookie at all costs," he ordered. "Report."

Iset twirled one of the senet game pieces in her fingers. "What now," she asked, sounding bored.

Eric appeared uncharacteristically rattled. "Eva was murdered in her cell."

"What!?" Rosalyn cried.

"Constantine and Compton are gone."

"The counselors," Pamela said in a rush. "Did they witness the -"

"Dead, Pam. They're all dead." Eric glanced outside to check the sky. "That useless werewolf Herveaux isn't answering his phone. Sookie -" He stopped himself before he said too much. "We can't get to Louisiana before dawn."

Iset sighed and made her move, knocking down a series of Sebek's pieces. "Well, at least we have that in our favor."

Shouts of disagreement erupted from the vampires in the room. "My entire legal case against the Council just went splat in the basement!" Eric barked.

Iset looked at them as if they were all stupid. "If we can't get to Louisiana fast, your perpetrators certainly can't get back to the Old World faster. Who's closer to Roman's fortress right now do you think? Him or us? My money's on us." She stood in satisfaction and pulled down a stack of map rolls they had used in the interrogation. "Arun, let's go over this again. Tell us exactly what Thea said about Roman's lair."

Sebek clapped at the donors. "Out. All of you." He waved at his own people. "Leave us. Now." Iset spread out a detailed map of Turkey, and they began to plot their next move.

---

A/N: Happy New Year! New year, new chapter. Thanks for reading! xx, M