Epilog

One hundred years in the future...

Mac sat on the lanai looking out over the rolling waves on the beach of Jamaica. She and Jon had been living in this house for the last ten years. Although, the names they were using now were James and Marti. The two of them had lived such a happy life and still had many more years ahead of them.

Sadly, she thought of her parents who had died over seventy years ago and Sandy, whom she’d lost just twenty-eight years later. Her friend had ended up married to Richie. They’d had a long and rich life. Mac had been so happy for her friends the day they’d married. She and Jon had attended each of their funerals, in disguise of course.

Jon still wrote music, although now his only audience was her and their two sons. Mac stroked her abdomen lovingly. She really hoped this child was a daughter.

She felt a pair of strong hands caress her shoulders. She hadn’t even heard his approach, but she seldom did. "Daydreaming again?" he asked.

Mac knew she’d never get tired of the sound of his voice. "Just thinking about our wonderful life," she told him.

"And it’ll only get better," he promised her. "I love you, moglie mia."

"I love you too, husband."

Chapter Thirty-five

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Jon woke to find Mac already awake and propped up on one elbow watching him intently. "Is something wrong, moglie mia?"

"Nope, I was just enjoying watching you sleep. I was so relieved to wake up and find you still here. To know it wasn’t all a dream."

He sat up just enough to brush her lips with his in a gentle good morning kiss. "Nope, no dream. I hate to break the mood, but my trial starts soon."

"Make love to me again," she pleaded.

Jon did just that. Desperation dripped from every move he made. He was afraid this might very well be the last time he would be able to hold her like this, to love her like this.

When Jon’s vampire escorts knocked on the door, Jon and Mac had showered, dressed, and eaten the breakfast that Kristoff had sent up to them. Jon kissed Mac, told her he loved her, and silently went with the guards. Mac waited on Richie to show up, but when he did, he’d left the humor she’d been hoping for to lighten her spirts in his room.

Silently, the two of them entered the courtroom and took their seats behind Jon and his guards. Mac couldn’t resist the urge to reach out one hand and run her fingers through his blond mane. Briefly, Jon’s head leaned back into her caress, but he jerked it back upright when the Council filed into the room.

Once they were all seated, Constantine asked in a booming voice, so unlike him, "Giovanni, please stand."

Solemnly, Jon did as requested. Before the other vampire could order Jon to drop the mental walls and allow him into his head, Jon announced, "I’m ready."

The room fell silent as Constantine linked up to Jon’s mind. Jon could feel the other vampire riffling through his memories, almost like a speed reader turning the pages of a book. Mac whispered to Richie, asking him what was going on, and the guitarist filled her in, explaining what had been agreed upon the day before. Mac could see every muscle in Jon’s body was tense in expectation. She knew now why he’d refused to discuss his case.

Finally, Constantine announced to the room, "He didn’t try to influence her testimony." With that simple statement the trial began.

Kristoff looked at Richie. "Richie Sambora, please rise."

Richie stood up slowly. It was a good thing Jon couldn’t see the look on the guitarist face, otherwise he would’ve known there was about to be trouble.

"Mr. Sambora, please tell us your version of the events from the night Giovanni turned his life mate," Sebastian said loudly.

Richie smirked. "I plea the fifth," was all he said before he promptly sat back down.

His ass hadn’t even met the chair before Jon was jumping to his feet. "Please, don’t punish him. He doesn’t know the rules."

Richie frowned at his friend’s defense of him. Smiling at Richie’s audacity, Constantine explained, "Mr. Sambora, first of all, you’re not in America; there is no fifth amendment here. Secondly, we’re not asking you to testify against yourself, so even if there were such an amendment, it wouldn’t apply."

"Rich, just tell them what happened," Jon told him.

Richie recognized that tone of voice from Jon and realized what Jon was leaving unsaid. The guitarist quickly related the events of Mac’s turning. Just the turning. He couldn’t see the smile on Jon’s face, but he knew it was there.

"Did Giovanni have Ms. Donaldson’s permission to turn her?" Sebastian asked with a tight smile.

"I can honestly say that I was never present for any conversation the two of them may have had concerning Mac becoming a vampire," Richie said, still smirking. "Therefore, I can’t answer that question with any certainty."

Richie almost laughed out loud at the frown on Sebastian’s face. Obviously, the vampire had hoped to make Richie incriminate his friend. Well, he was just shit out of luck.

Constantine gave Richie a quick nod. "You may now be seated."

With evil glee, Sebastian’s voice boomed across the room. "Ms. Mac Donaldson, please stand."

Mac took a deep breath, and Richie gave her shoulder a quick consolatory pat. Mac stood up, holding her head at a proud, defiant tilt, and quickly spouted off a rhyme. She hoped that the magic shield had not been put back in place. "He is my love, he is my life, someday I hope to be his wife. So, I ask, nay I demand, he not be killed by your hand."

The echo of her last word hadn’t died away, before Jon jumped to his feet. "Please, don’t kill her!" he yelled.

"Shut up, Jon," Mac ordered. "I did the rhyme, I’ll do the time."

Richie was laughing uncontrollably. Jon was still trying to convince the Council not to punish Mac. She was yelling at him to stay out of it. The guards even joined in the fray, snickering softly at the argument between Jon and Mac.

Into the cacophony, Sebastian’s booming voice rang out. "Order, order," he demanded.

Constantine was chuckling softly, and Kristoff was just staring at Mac in stunned disbelief. The room fell silent.

"Ms. Donaldson, please just tell us the events of the night in question," Constantine said, between chuckles.

Quickly, Mac told her version of the events, without embellishments, but leaving out how she’d actually felt about being turned.

"And did Giovanni have your permission for the turn?" Sebastian asked, his smirk back in place.

"I refuse to answer that," Mac said defiantly. Before any of the Council members could say anything, she raised one hand to stop them. "Where I come from, a wife can not be compelled to testify against her husband. Surely, life mates would fall into the same category."

"But we are not ‘where you come from’," Sebastian replied quickly. "You will answer the question or we will immediately hand down a guilty verdict."

"I was unconscious and unable to give permission," she answered.

Sebastian frowned at her answer. Apparently, this was not going as he had expected.

Constantine stepped in then. "Ms. Donaldson, I believe that the question should have been, would you have given permission if you’d been able to do so."

"I don’t know," Mac answered, smiling. "Hindsight is 20/20. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted then, but I can say that now, I don’t have a problem with being a vampire."

Kristoff told Mac that she could sit, then asked Jon to stand. Once Jon was on his feet, Sebastian took great joy in asking, "Giovanni, did you and your life mate ever discuss her becoming one of us before the night in question?"

"Yes," Jon answered.

"And, had she expressed a desire to become a vampire?" Sebastian asked, as if he already knew the answer.

"No. She had not," Jon answered, honestly. Although, he would’ve preferred to lie.

"I’ve heard enough," Sebastian announced.

"I haven’t," Constantine said loudly. "I have one more question for Ms. Donaldson."

"Yes?" Mac asked, expectantly.

"Would you be willing to follow the laws handed down by this Council and any future Council members as befitting a member of our race?"

"I would," Mac answered, nodding. "Once they’re all explained to me."

Constantine smiled. "Don’t worry, we have a book."

"A handbook? Oh, joy," she whispered as she sat back down, her voice filled with sarcasm.

Constantine burst into laughter. "Now, I’ve heard enough."

Kristoff stood. "This Council will now convene to discuss our decision in this case."

The members of the Council filed out of the room, leaving a silence behind them. Knowing that with the trial all but over that there wouldn’t be any objections from his guards, Jon pulled Mac into his arms.

"You were wonderful," he whispered against her hair. "But, damn it, you scared the shit outta me when you started rhyming."

"Sorry ‘bout that," she told him, "but I had to at least try."

His humor restored, Richie slapped Jon on the back. "I have a good feeling about this."

"I hope you’re right," Jon told his friend.

Their discussion was interrupted when the Council filed back into the room. Sebastian looking furious, but the other members were smiling. This had to be a good sign.

Smiling at Jon, Kristoff announced, "Giovanni Bongiovi, by a vote of two to one, this Council finds you not guilty."

Richie let out a whoop of delight, and Jon picked Mac up and spun her around.

"You are all free to go," Kristoff told them. "However, Giovanni, I hope that you, your friend, and your life mate will stay for a few days and enjoy my hospitality."

"My life mate has business that needs to be seen to immediately," Jon informed him. "And, Richie and I have stuff to do as well. But, Mac and I will come back for a visit soon, my friend."


The mood on the flight back to the States was decidedly better than the flight to Russia. Richie had fallen asleep soon after take off, having not slept very well since this had all began. Jon sat on the plush couch in the main cabin of the jet with Mac on his lap.

"Did you mean what you said to the Council?" he asked.

"I said a lot to the Council. Could you be more specific?"

"Your rhyme. ‘He is my love, he is my life’," he clarified.

"How could you have any doubts, Jon," she answered, smiling. "I love you."

"I’ve never been happier to hear three words in my life," he told her. "I love you too, moglie mia."

Chapter Thirty-four

Once in the hall, Jon had no idea which direction to go, but when Richie ran out the door and called out, "This way," as he ran off down the hall to the left, Jon followed him. There was a guard outside Mac’s door. Kristoff had taken that precaution, knowing Jon would leave the courtroom with or without permission from the Council. The guard stopped them from entering the room, but Kristoff came running around the corner and slid to a stop beside Jon.

"He has permission from the Council to be here," Kristoff told the guard.

"She’s in bad shape, Jon," Richie warned.

"How long has she went without blood?" Jon asked.

"The last blood she had was before the end of Caleb’s trial. The next blood I brought her she refused," Kristoff answered.

"I’m gonna need to have extra blood before I can give her all she needs," Jon told him. "I’ll get started now, then feed, then feed her again."

With the most serious look Jon had ever seen on Richie’s face, the guitarist held out his wrist, offering it to Jon. "Take what you need."

Jon shook his head. "I can’t take that much from you."

"Then take enough to get this started," Richie replied quickly.

Jon looked at the assembled group, then at Richie, "Let’s do this inside. And Kris, get us a bag of ice. Quickly, please."

Kristoff nodded and hurried off to get the requested ice.

Once in the room, Richie sat on the sofa where he’d been sleeping and offered his wrist again. Jon shook his head again, but before Richie could protest, he quickly explained, "I wanna see her first. I’ll be right back."

Richie nodded his acceptance, understanding completely. Jon disappeared through the door into Mac’s bedroom. What he found there made him pale instantly and almost cry out. She looked like death itself. At first, Jon thought he was too late, but he heard her ragged breathing and rushed to the side of her bed.

"Mac," he said softly, tenderly brushing the hair off her forehead. "I’m here, baby. We’ll fix this and you’ll be fine in no time." He bent to gently kiss her forehead. "I’ll be right back, moglie mia."

Reluctantly, he left her and went back out to find Richie still waiting on the sofa and Kristoff back with the bag of ice. "I should warn you, I’ve never fed from a man before," Jon admitted to Richie. He took the bag of ice from Kristoff and handed it to Richie. "Put this in your lap," he ordered.

"Why?" Richie asked.

"Just do it," Jon ordered harshly. "I wanna be able to look you in the eye after this, and just trust me, you’ll thank me later." He turned to Kristoff. "Will you leave us alone now, please?"

The Russian nodded. "Of course, tell the guard outside if you need anything else."

When Kristoff had left the room, Richie gave Jon a questioning look. "It’s a very sexual experience, Rich," Jon explained. "You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, and if you wanna back out, I’ll understand."

"Let’s just get it over with," Richie said with a quick nod.

Jon took Richie’s offered hand in his, and reached out to his friend’s mind. There was the expected resistance, then Richie opened his mind to Jon. Close your eyes and lean back, he told the guitarist. Relax. Jon watched as Richie did what he’d told him. He didn’t even question why he was able to get into Richie’s head.

Richie’s eyes popped open wide, when a wave of pleasure washed over him. He’d expected pain when Jon’s fangs pierced the tender skin of his wrist. Not this indescribable, incredible, pleasure. Chocolate brown eyes met sky blue ones before Richie’s lids drifted closed again. He didn’t think he’d ever been so damn grateful to have a bag of ice in his lap.

When Jon had finished feeding, out of habit, he almost laved the wound tenderly with his tongue. But, he remembered himself, and knew that Richie would not thank him for what would’ve been a completely inappropriate gesture. Jon almost laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing, but instead just said, "Thanks Rich."

Richie removed the ice from his lap. "No, thank you. Besides, what’s a little blood between brothers?" Jon nodded and started toward the bedroom. "Jon," Richie waited until his friend turned back to him before continuing, "we take this one to the grave!"

"Of course," Jon answered, his lips twisting into a wry grin. "Have the guard outside get you a bandage for your wrist," he ordered, then disappeared through the door.

In the bedroom, Jon carefully crawled into bed with Mac, who was laying on her side. He pulled her back against him, and like he’d done in El Paso, he pierced his wrist with his fangs and held it tenderly to her lips. "Drink, tesoro mia," he commanded gently. With his other hand, he stroked her throat slowly to help her swallow. After several minutes, she began to drink on her own. Regretfully, Jon pulled his wrist away from her lips. "I’ll have to feed again before I can give you anymore, moglie mia," he whispered in her ear.

Mac’s eyes opened slowly. "Jon?" she murmured weakly.

"Yeah, baby," he answered, hugging her tightly. "Just rest now, moglie mia. I’ll feed you again soon."

When she relaxed back against him and her deep breathing told him she was asleep, he carefully crawled out of the bed. He needed to go feed again. It was going to be a long night, and he had no intention of leaving her until the sun rose.

Kristoff waited in the living area of the suite with a maid for him to feed from. "How is she?"

"Better, but she needs more blood," Jon answered his friend.

The other vamp nodded. "The Council has agreed that you should stay with her tonight," he paused here to smile at his friend. "Make good use of the night, Giovanni."

"I intend to," Jon replied.


When Jon went back into Mac’s bedroom freshly fed and ready to feed her again, he found her wide awake and sitting up in the bed.

"Feeling better, I see," he replied.

"Yeah," she nodded and rubbed her stomach, "but I can tell I’m still hungry."

Jon stood looking at her for long moments. He’d been so damn worried about her. "Why the fuck would you do this?" he asked, as his anger finally bubbled to the surface. "I was so worried about you, Mac."

"Don’t yell at me," she ordered.

"I’m not yelling," he yelled.

"Yes, you are."

"Answer my question," he told her, his voice soft, but anything but calm.

"I wanted to see you, ya ass," she answered. "Why didn’t you tell me that they’d kill you if you’re found guilty?"

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I didn’t want you to worry," he answered, sheepishly as he walked over and sat on the side of the bed. Jon reached out with one hand to gently caress her cheek. "I love you, moglie mia. Forgive me for not being able to put fear in your eyes?"

She smiled at him. "I guess."

"Good," he nodded once. "Now, time to get on with your spanking," he told her pulling her into his lap.

Mac was laughing and trying to fight him off, but he was way stronger, even if she hadn’t been still a little weak from hunger. "A spanking? For what?"

He hugged her tight. "For scaring the shit outta me," he answered.

There wasn’t any spanking, but Jon’s mouth descended on hers. Kissing her deeply, while her arms slipped around his neck, her fingers playing in the hair at his nape. "God, how I’ve missed you," he whispered heatedly against the skin of her neck.

"I’ve missed you too, Jon," she said softly into his hair. She caught the clean scent of his shampoo. "Do you ‘spose, that instead of a spanking I could have a hot bath?"

"Your wish is my command, moglie mia," he told her as he stood with her still nestled in his arms.

Jon carried her to the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet. He started the tub filling with steaming hot water, then asked if there was anything else she wanted while the tub filled. Mac told him that she’d really like to brush her teeth and to be alone for a few minutes. Smiling at her shyness, Jon left her alone in the bathroom.

Still a little weak, it took Mac a little longer than normal to brush her teeth and use the bathroom, but when she’d finished she called out to Jon. He quickly reappeared and turned off the water, then began to undress her slowly.

Once he had all her clothes in a neat little pile in the floor, Jon helped Mac step into the tub. She leaned back against the cool porcelain and watched as Jon gathered all of her bath necessities from the counter around the sink.

"I think I can take it from here," she told him softly.

"Naaa, I don’t think you can," he replied, grinning. He got down on his knees next to the tub.

Mac just shrugged and slid down in the tub, soaking her long hair. When she rose back out of the water, Jon had already poured some of her shampoo into his palm and gently lathered her hair. She groaned as his fingers tenderly massaged her scalp as he worked the suds through her hair.

"That feels so good," she said on a sigh.

"Good, it’s supposed to," he answered.

Jon helped her rinse her hair and the applied the conditioner, finger combing it through the long silken strands like he’d seen her do when she took a shower. Mac had never had a man bathe her before. She was lost in the sensation of his long, tapered artist’s fingers brushing against her scalp and then combing all the way to the ends of her hair.

She was disappointed when Jon quit with his ministrations and helped her rinse her hair. But, soon she was moaning in pleasure again, when he began to gently scrub at her sensitive skin with a wash cloth he had poured some of her bath gel onto.

Jon tenderly stroked and massaged her until the water started to cool. Then, he pulled the plug and helped her out of the tub, wrapping her in a fluffy bath sheet. Reverently, he dried her satiny skin with the towel.

When he lifted her in his arms to carry her back to bed, Mac told him softly, "I could’ve walked, ya know?"

"Maybe," he answered, smiling. He bent to lay her on the bed.

"Are you going to feed me again before you go?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer. She dreaded going back to the cold impersonal feeding from a wine glass.

"I’m not leaving ‘til the morning," he told her, "and yes, I’m going to feed you again, but this time it’ll be the way you’re used to doing it."

Mac smiled up into his blue eyes that flashed with desire. "I was hoping you were going to say that."

Jon leaned over Mac, caging her with his arms. "I need you, Mac," he growled just before his lips met hers in a fiery kiss.

She let herself get swept away in the storm of his passion. Their tongues dueled for supremacy. Mac wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down toward her. Jon’s biceps flexed as he tried to keep his weight off her. She desperately wanted the connection of their minds. With that need, she realized she was in his mind.

Jon? she questioned, the voice in his head barely a whisper.

Yes, moglie mia, I’m here, he answered.

How?

Don’t question it, bambina, just enjoy it.

Jon realized that the Council must have lifted the magical shield, at least for the night. But, that thought was fleeting and quickly disappeared as he got lost in Mac. His lips left hers, and he kissed and nibbled a path down her throat, down her chest until his mouth found her already hardened nipple.

He drew the pebble into his mouth as he settled between her thighs. Mac groaned at the friction of the denim of his jeans against her bare flesh.

I believe your over-dressed for the occasion, she told him.

Maybe, he answered, but if I remedy that, this won’t last long. He moved his attention to her other breast, and Mac’s back arched up off the bed.

You say that like it’s a bad thing, she quipped, even as she tugged his t-shirt up to shoulders.

Jon pulled his shirt off over his head then quickly went back to her breast. He groaned aloud as her body moved against his. Did I mention that I love you? he asked.

I believe so, she answered. Please, Jon, she begged, I need you. Her hands were busy working at the button and zipper of his jeans. She moaned as his fangs scraped across the tender skin of her nipple. Please.

With one hand, Jon helped her push his jeans down over his hips. He entered her without finesse, letting passion rule his actions and set the rhythm. Her pleasure was washing over him in waves. He gritted his teeth against the sensation, trying to hold back his own orgasm until she’d reached that peak.

When Mac tensed beneath him and her hands tightened on his shoulders, Jon allowed her to pull him down so that she could reach his neck. Her fangs sank into his jugular and sent him over the edge. He continued to thrust inside her as he rode the waves of his own orgasm and hers.

Later, as they lay snuggled together, Mac whispered, "Jon, we need to talk."

"Not about my case, moglie mia," he warned her.

"No, it’s not about the case," she replied. "I need to tell you what I’ve found out since I’ve been here." She explained about her dreams, and that Maria had told her they were actually memories of her past life. Then, said softly, "Maria told me that she recognized the woman in my dreams."

"Who is she?"

"Cecilia," she admitted softly.

Jon sighed and tightened his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her hair with his nose. "I guess I should’ve known."

That wasn’t exactly the response she’d expected from him. "You’re not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" he asked, truly puzzled.

"I don’t know," she answered, sarcastically, "maybe because I tried to kill you?"

"You didn’t," he corrected her, "Cecilia did."

"But...," she began.

He interrupted her, "No buts, you’re not her anymore. Now, you’re just my Mac."

She smiled at the heartfelt feeling she heard in his voice. "What’ll happen to us after the trial?"

"I guess that depends on the verdict," he answered softly. He didn’t really want to talk about it right now, and he told her so.

"But, Jon, I need to know," she told him, her voice earnest. "If I lost you...," she left the sentence dangling.

"One way or the other we’ll be together," he assured her. "Our souls belong together. If not this life, then in the next. And, just maybe, the next one will be a nice normal one."

Mac didn’t like his defeatist attitude and decided right then that no matter what the verdict, she at least would fight for him.

Chapter Thirty-three

Mac had toughed out the pain in her chest and the burning pains in her abdomen through the long night and was relieved to finally see the sun peeking through her curtains. She sat up on the side of the bed, but realized she was too weak to stand. Falling back on the bed, she groaned. She now realized the pain and weakness Jon had suffered that day he had refused to feed from or in front of her. She just hoped she could be as strong as he had been.

Mac ached to reach out and touch his mind with hers, but knew she couldn’t. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she swiped them away quickly when Richie knocked on her door.

"Hey Mac," Richie called from the other side of the door. "I’m going down for coffee. Want me to bring you anything?"

"No, thank you," she called out.

Richie pushed the door open. "Mac, you really need to have something." He noticed how pale she was, but he just assumed it was the separation symptoms. "I’m bringing you something, and you’re gonna eat it, or else."

Realizing that Kristoff hadn’t told Richie about her ultimatum, Mac nodded weakly. While Richie was gone, she managed to get dressed and stumbled to the sofa in the sitting area. She curled up in one corner and tried to look normal when he came back in the room.

Richie watched her carefully while she sipped at her coffee and nibbled at the toast. Something about her screamed that she was hiding something. He wasn’t sure what it was that tipped him off, but he knew she was keeping something from him. When he’d went downstairs, he’d been told that all the vampires in the area were attending the ceremonies for Caleb, except for Mac and Jon, of course.

By that evening, Richie was really worried about Mac. She was weak and unable to get out of her bed. The sheets were soaked with the cold sweat pouring off of her. He left the room to find Maria and get fresh linens for her bed along with any help the other woman could provide. As he walked down the hall, he debated with himself whether or not he should try to let Jon know what was going on with Mac, but deciding it was something his friend should know, he turned toward the hallway where they were keeping Jon.

When he rounded the corner into the hallway, he was surprised that there weren’t any guards outside the door. Looking back over his shoulder to make sure there was no one around, he walked over and knocked discreetly on the door. No answer came from within. Once again checking to make sure he was alone in the hall, Richie slipped in the room. There were no visible signs that his friend had ever been there, but Richie knew where to check. He walked into the bathroom and quickly turned on the hot water in both the sink and the shower. He and Jon had sent messages to each other many times down through the years this way, but usually they had been some kind of smart ass remark to tease the other.

Once the steam had filled the room and clouded the mirror, Jon’s message was revealed.

Rich, they’re moving me to somewhere else in the castle. Something about you and Mac showing up at my door. Tell her I love her.

"Fuck," Richie cursed at the empty room. He grabbed a towel and dried the mirror, erasing Jon’s message so that no one else would know he’d contacted his friends. Then he stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t continue his search for Maria. Instead, he went in search of Kristoff.

Richie found the vampire in his office. The guitarist didn’t bother to knock; he just walked right in the room and took a seat uninvited across the desk from Kristoff. The vampire raised his eyes from his desk to look at his visitor, but didn’t say anything.

Richie cut right to the chase. "Where’s Jon?"

Kristoff had known this confrontation was coming, but he had decided he wouldn’t share the information. He wouldn’t risk Giovanni getting into trouble with the Council again because of this man’s actions or Mac’s. "I can’t tell you that."

"Can’t or won’t?" Richie asked angrily.

"Won’t," the vampire answered. At Richie’s glare, he continued, "Giovanni could be seriously reprimanded if you or Mac show up at his door again. The guards told the Council about your last visit, and they ordered him moved. If it happens again there would be serious consequences."

"He needs to know that something’s wrong with Mac," Richie told him.

"No he doesn’t," Kristoff replied. "He would only worry about something he has no control over. Why put him through that?"

Angrily, Richie stood and leaned over the desk, bracing his hands on the hard surface. "I think she’s dying!"

"She is," Kristoff answered calmly. "She’s starving herself. She has refused to drink Giovanni’s blood unless the Council allows her to see him."

The look of disbelief that washed over the guitarist’s face was almost comical. "What?" he asked, falling back in the chair. "Why would she do something so stupid?"

"She’s desperate to see him," Kristoff answered. "I knew the Council would never allow her to see him, unless I could show them that it was impeding the trial. I haven’t went to them with her demand yet, but will show them at the start of Giovanni’s trial tomorrow when she can’t show up to give testimony."

"Will she make it til tomorrow?" Richie asked, worry evident in his tone.

"She will," Kristoff assured him. "It will be close, and she’ll be so weak that she’ll need a lot of blood, but she’ll make it."

"Will Jon be able to provide enough for her?"

"He’ll be fed enough to be able to, or at least be provided with more after she feeds, if he needs it." Kristoff paused, giving Richie a hard look. He had argued with himself for a long time over whether or not this man could be trusted with his plans to help Giovanni, but now he decided that if Giovanni trusted him then so could he. "I have a plan," he told the guitarist softly.

Richie leaned forward, unsure if he’d heard the vampire correctly. "What kind of plan?"

"To get Giovanni out of here if the trial doesn’t go his way."

"Well then," Richie said in relief, "let’s hear it."


*************************

After hearing Kristoff’s plan, Richie went back to his room feeling pretty unsure of the effectiveness of said plan. The whole thing consisted of waiting until they had Jon tied to the stake, then Kristoff and Mac would put their mental abilities to good use. Kristoff had told Richie that Jon wouldn’t act on his own behalf, but that the Council would assume it was Jon and Mac doing the damage. That would keep Kristoff and Maria out of danger. Richie’s part in the plan was to acquire the get-away vehicle and get them all out of there once Jon was free.

Richie was having a hard time believing that Jon wouldn’t act to save himself, but the fact that he’d voluntarily come here to face judgement, knowing what could happen was what had Richie doubting Jon doing anything to save himself. The tiny voice in the back of his head kept telling him that Jon’s death would mean Mac’s, and that Jon would do anything to save her.

After a brief stop in his room, Richie went to Mac’s. He was very worried about her. She was in very bad shape, unconscious, sweating bullets, and moaning in pain. She thrashed about on the bed, occasionally calling out Jon’s name. Unbidden, anger rose in Richie’s chest; she was doing this to herself. Oh, he understood her reasoning, but he knew Jon’s own anger would rise when he learned her condition. A tight smile flashed across full lips. The Council didn’t know what they were in for tomorrow. Richie had seen Jon’s temper in full blown mode. Thunder and lightening were the best way for him to describe it, and tomorrow there would be a full blown hurricane in that courtroom. He just hoped that the winds wouldn’t blow his way.

Richie sat by Mac’s bedside throughout the long night. Maria had come by to administer a sedative that had seemed to help Mac rest. Richie wondered why they didn’t just give Jon’s blood to Mac via a transfusion. Maria had explained that the blood had to filter into the blood stream by way of the digestion system. They could try to force feed her the blood, but otherwise they were helpless. Besides, Maria and Kristoff supported her efforts to see Jon and wouldn’t try to get around her refusal to drink the blood. They would only try to make her more comfortable while she rebelled against the system that kept her from her lifemate.

By the time a vampire came by to get Richie for the proceedings that afternoon, Mac was weak, limp, and lifeless. Her breathing was labored. Richie hadn’t had any luck getting her to wake up and respond to him in any way. He just hoped that the Council would see reason, because Mac was beyond seeing it for herself.



*************************


Jon arrived at the courtroom before anyone. His guards led him to the front row of seats and sat on either side of him, waiting for the arrival of the witnesses and the Council. He knew something was wrong when Richie entered the room alone. Without Mac. It wasn’t only the fact that his friend was alone; it was the look on Richie’s face that told Jon all he needed to know. There was something terribly wrong.

Instinctively, Jon stood up and took a step toward his friend, but a restraining hand on his arm brought his gaze to one of the guards. Frowning, Jon called out across the space that separated him from Richie. "What’s wrong?"

Before Richie could answer, the Council filed into the room. They all took their seats, and Jon leveled his icy blue gaze on Kristoff. "Where’s Mac?" he demanded.

"Giovanni," Kristoff began seriously, "we’ll get to that soon."

"We’ll get to that now," Jon said softly, menacingly. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
The hair on Richie’s arms and neck stood at attention, expecting the coming storm. A small, satisfactory smirk pulled the right corner of his full lips upward. This was going to get real interesting real fast.

The three heads at the table on the dias bent together, and Richie looked at Jon. "She’s dying, Jon. She’s refused to drink your blood, until they," he said, jerking his head in the Council’s direction, "allow her to see you."

Jon’s angry roar filled the room. He broke free of his guards and launched himself across the room toward the dias. In the blink of an eye, he had flown across the table and had Kristoff by his shirt front and slammed against the wall behind the table where the other two Council members sat. They both looked on with wide eyes, as Kristoff did nothing to defend himself from Jon’s attack. Jon held the other vampire pressed against the wall.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Jon growled, his voice held a slight lisp as he spoke around his fangs.

"What purpose would it have served, but, to make you worry?" Kristoff countered.

"And you think I’m not worried now?" Jon demanded. "I’m warning you now, Kris. If you and the Council," he said that last word with contempt, "don’t allow me to go to her, I will not be responsible for my actions. I’ll take out every last one of you that stands between us that I can."

"And, I’ll help him," Richie announced. He stood with his feet apart, braced for anything, his hands clenched into tight fists. He would help his friend in any way; they would fight their way out of this room, standing shoulder to shoulder. If that’s what it took.

Jon looked over his shoulder at Richie and smiled his thanks. Richie gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. Jon finally released Kristoff and took a step back, but still glaring at his friend, he said softly, "I’ll let you discuss this with the others."

Richie watched in astonishment as Jon calmly walked to stand in front of the table, but without stepping off the dias. Jon stood on the same level as the other vampires, daring them to challenge his presence there.

Sebastian and Kristoff argued heatedly for several long moments, while Constantine looked on quietly. Richie’s gaze rested on the surfer vampire. The guitarist realized that Connie’s vote would be the deciding vote in more than just today’s discussion. Constantine was the only truly neutral party on the Council. Kristoff was firmly on Jon’s side, and for whatever reason, Sebastian seemed to be totally against him.

Constantine’s voice rose above the argument. "Would you be willing to submit to a meeting of minds after you were allowed to see her?"

Richie didn’t know what the vampire meant, but Jon did. He was asking if Jon would allow one or all of the Council members to invade his mind afterwards, to make sure he had not tried to influence Mac’s testimony while they were alone together. It was not possible for one vampire to invade another’s mind without permission. Most vampires wouldn’t allow a Council member inside their head, because once in there they would be able to not only access the memories in question, but any memory there, including any wrong doing the vampire had committed in their lifetime that had not already been admitted to the Council.

The room had suddenly fallen silent after Constantine’s question. Jon knew the risk he was taking, when into the silence he answered, "Yes." He realized that the Council member or members would then be able to access his memories of the night he turned Mac. They would be able to know what happened, and be able to judge him without any witness testimony. Once they had been in his head, anything Richie or Mac had to say wouldn’t matter.

Kristoff gasped. "Giovanni, do you realize what you are agreeing to?"

"Yeah," Jon nodded, "whatever it takes to save Mac."

Kristoff shook his head. "I will not allow this, unless it is agreed that the only memories that will be viewed are the ones of the meeting between Giovanni and his lifemate. We will not access the memories that would condemn him, and in effect cause him to testify against himself."

"I’ll join minds with Giovanni," Constantine offered. "I’m the only one," he glared at the other Council members, "who obviously hasn’t already made up their mind as to his guilt or innocence. And, I will only view the memories of the meeting in question. I don’t think it’d be anywhere near polite for all of us to invade his and his lifemate’s privacy in such a way. You two will just have to take my word for it when I tell you that he did not discuss his case with her."

"I can agree to that," Kristoff quickly answered.

After several long seconds, Sebastian nodded curtly.

Jon didn’t wait any longer; he turned and ran from the room. Richie quickly followed him, knowing his friend didn’t even know where Mac was.

Chapter Thirty-two

Mac finally realized Richie was in the room when she sent a lamp flying in his direction and he ducked and yelled, "Hey!" That didn’t stop her from continuing to send items flying across the room; it just made her more careful about where she sent it. During a break in the air show, Richie ran across the room and threw his arms around Mac, holding her arms down tight against her sides.

"This isn’t going to solve anything," he told her.

"It’s making me feel a lot better," she remarked, breathing heavily.

"Is it? Really?" he asked. "Because I can tell ya, throwing some stuff around in my room didn’t make me feel any better."

"They’re going to kill him, Rich," she said tearfully, after several long seconds of silence.

"Not if I can help it," Richie said, vehemently.

"That’s the worst part," she replied, "they expect us to help them do it with our testimonies."

"Then they’re shit outta luck, huh?" He turned her loose then.

Mac walked away from him, then began to angrily pace the floor. "If they think I’m gonna take this lying down, they’re full of shit," she said, heatedly, "I’ll go Jerry Springer on their pompous asses."

"Now, that’s the Mac we all know and love," Richie told her grinning. "I’ve been trying to come up with a plan."

"Got one yet?"

"Not yet, but after seeing you demolish this room, I’m starting to come up with a few." Richie took a good long look at her. "Mac, do you realize that if they kill him, you will die?"

She stopped her pacing to turn and look at him with surprise. "Do I look like I’m worried about myself right now?"

Richie had to admit that she didn’t. He glanced at his watch. "Look, I’m gonna go down to dinner and make nice with the pompous asses. Do you wanna come down with me?"

"Nope, I’d rather starve to death."

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No, not unless you can find a way to sneak Jon in here."

"I’ll work on that," he laughed.

Richie had only been gone a few minutes when there was a knock on her door. "Did you find a way?" she asked laughing, as she opened the door.

Kristoff stood in the hallway. "A way for what?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she replied. "Come in," she invited, motioning him into the room. With him following her, she walked over to one of the chairs in the room, but she didn’t sit down. She had noticed the brandy snifter full of what was obviously Jon’s blood in his hand. Reaching up with one hand, she rubbed the ache in her chest. She knew if she turned down the blood it would get worse, but she had to do it.

Kristoff didn’t ask her if she wanted Jon’s blood, nor did he offer it to her. He just calmly sat the glass on the table. When she didn’t reach for it, he pushed it closer to her.

"Is Jon outside, then?" she asked, knowing the answer to the question.

"You know he is not," Kristoff said, his accent more pronounced with his aggravation.

Mac was tempted to take it. A pain, like a hot knife, slashed through her abdomen. She glared at the glass and it went flying toward Kristoff. He held up his hand and the glass stopped in mid-air, some of the blood sloshing over the side. Then the glass reversed directions and floated softly back to land gently on the table. She leveled an icy glare on the vampire across from her. "I’m not drinking it."

"As you wish," he told her, seeming unconcerned with whether she drank it or not. But, he settled back into the chair as if to wait her out. He glanced around the room at the destruction she had done that afternoon. "I see you’ve been redecorating," he commented dryly.

"Yeah," she quipped, "it’s called the pissed off life mate look."

He raised one eyebrow sardonically. "Ah," he nodded, "Maria has used that decorating tool before."

"So, Kristoff, about this magic shield," she said, calmly sitting in the chair and crossing her legs, "I’m taking it from my ability to do the redecorating earlier that it doesn’t apply to telekinesis."

"No, that is not technically magic. That is a mental skill," he explained. "The shield mostly prevents the mental communication between vampires."

"So, if I was to...oh, I don’t know, say something like....," she paused, debating what she wanted to say, "The thing I find most offensive here is that glass, so I hope you find it permanently stuck up your ass." She waited patiently for the glass to move from the table in front of her. When it remained in its place, she sighed. "Okay, so it prevents spells too."

"Yes," Kristoff answered, smiling. "Giovanni mentioned to Vincent that you were a witch."

"You mean, he didn’t tell you?"

"Yes, he told me, but I didn’t tell the other Council members. I had hoped to keep that as what Giovanni would call my ace up my sleeve, but Vincent saw fit to tell the other members so that was included in the spell that was cast over my home."

Mac looked down at the glass. "You can take that with you when you go. I’m not drinking it until the Council allows me to see Jon."

"Mac, I’m sure the Council will not allow that," he told her sadly.

"You haven’t asked?"

"No."

"Then I advise you to do that with all due haste," she replied, sarcastically.

Kristoff stood slowly. "I’m going to join the others for dinner. Please reconsider your decision."

Silently, he left the room. Mac sat alone staring at the glass. Her chest ached, and what she was sure was the vampire version of hunger pangs ripped through her abdomen. Before she couldn’t resist the desire to drink the blood, she stood up and took the glass to the bathroom, pouring the contents down the drain. "For Jon," she said softly to herself, right before she tipped the glass over the sink.

Chapter Thirty-one

Mac spent most of the night tossing and turning. The pain in her chest was almost unbearable, but she refused to be weak and ask for something for the pain. Just before dawn, she awoke from a terrible nightmare. In her dream, Jon was being burnt at the stake and there was nothing she could do to save him. The dream had seemed so real; she jumped out of bed at a dead run. Practically tearing the door off it’s hinges, she ran into the sitting room, past Richie sleeping on the sofa to the main door of her suite, all still just wearing the t-shirt and panties she’d worn to bed.

Richie came awake with a jerk, just in time to see her throw open the door and run into the hall. Dragging on a t-shirt as he went, he ran after her. When he finally caught up to her, he grabbed her from behind, pulling her into a tight bear hug. She began to fight him, screaming for him to let her go, that she had to get to Jon.

He bent to say softly in her ear, "Mac, calm down. It’s me Rich."

"Richie, help me," she pleaded. "They’re killing him! I’ve got to get to him." She jerked away from him and took off running again, disappearing as she rounded a corner into another hallway.

Richie had no choice but to follow her. At the door guarded by two different vamps, Mac came to a skidding halt and demanded to see Jon. They refused.

Richie tried to placate everyone. "I think she had a nightmare that he was dying."

The two vampires eyed Mac from the top of her head all the way down to the tips of her bare toes. Richie frowned at them and pulled Mac behind him, hiding her from their hungry eyes. She immediately began to fight to get around him.

Jon’s voice from the other side of the door halted her fight. "Mac! Calm down. I’m fine. You just had a bad dream." The people in the hallway heard a soft thud as Jon’s head struck the door from the other side. Then his muffled voice was heard again. "Rich, please, just get her outta here. I’ll see both of you at the trial in a couple of hours."

Richie tugged at Mac’s arm, until he got her to walk back to her room. Through the door, Jon asked the guards, "Is she gone?"

"Yes," one of them answered.

Weakly, Jon slid down the door until he was sitting in the floor, leaning back against the portal. "Thank God," he whispered to himself. He had barely been able to restrain himself from tearing down the door to get to her. Had she stayed just a second more, he’d have lost the battle with himself.


*************************


At 9am sharp, Mac and Richie were ushered into the Council’s chambers. They were shown to seats right in front of Jon. He was seated with two vampire guards, one on either side of him.

When Mac took her seat, Jon leaned forward to lay one hand on her shoulder. "See, I’m fine."

Mac opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t get the chance. The three members of the Council filed in to take their seats behind a large table on a raised dias at the front of the room. Mac watched as Caleb was led into the room and down to stand in front of the dias.

A vampire that was acting as a sort of bailiff announced to the room, "These precedings will be conducted in English for the benefit of the defendant. Court is now in session."

In a grave voice, Kristoff said from behind the table, "Caleb McAllen, you stand accused of kidnapping a vampire’s life mate and placing her in harm’s way. We will now hear the testimony against you."

Constantine said in a softer tone, "Ms. Mac Donaldson please stand."

Jon squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before she stood up as ordered.

"Ms. Donaldson," Constantine began, "please tell us about the night the accused took you from your hotel room."

Leaving nothing out, Mac carefully told them the story of that evening and what happened while she was alone with Caleb. When she was done, Sebastian told her that she could sit down and asked Richie to stand. Constantine then asked Richie to tell them his version of the tale. Richie complied, adding the part about his and Jon’s search for Mac and how they’d found her in El Paso. Finally, Jon was asked to tell his version of the events.

When Jon sat down, Kristoff announced to Caleb, "By your own admission you are guilty of this crime. Caleb, do you have any words in your own defense?"

Caleb had stood before the Council with his head bowed until Kristoff had spoken to him. Now, he looked up at the three powerful men before him. "My only defense is that I thought I was avenging an old wrong that Giovanni had done to me and a loved one. I was not aware of all the circumstances regarding that incident, but that is no excuse. I wish to apologize to Ms. Donaldson and to Giovanni. He only did what had to be done."

The three vampires stood, and Kristoff announced to the people assembled, "This council will now convene to discuss our decision in this case."

Once the Council had left the room, Caleb turned to face Jon and the rest. "Giovanni, I’m really sorry about all of this."

"I know you are," Jon said softly. "Go in peace, Caleb."

There was such solemness to Jon’s tone, that Mac and Richie realized there was some form of ceremony there, but they didn’t ask about it.

It only took a matter of minutes before the Council came back into the room and announced their verdict. Kristoff stood up and looked at Caleb sadly. "Caleb McAllen, this council finds you guilty. Your sentence will be carried out just after sunset tonight. Go in peace."

Caleb nodded his acceptance of his fate, then was led from the room by his guard. Kristoff stepped down from the dias and walked over to Jon.

"Giovanni, you are welcome to act as a witness to tonight’s events, but I’m sure your friends will not want to be there," Kristoff told Jon quietly.

"I have no desire to act as witness," Jon answered, "I know the Council will see that justice is served."

Kristoff nodded. "I understand."

"Kris, I do have one favor to ask," Jon said quickly, as his friend began to turn to walk away.

"Anything in my power, I will be happy to grant," Kristoff replied.

"I won’t ask that everyone leave us alone, but can I have a few minutes with my life mate?"

"I’m sure that won’t be a problem, as long as the two of you don’t discuss your case," Kristoff answered, then motioned for the guards to follow him. After they had moved a few feet away, Richie also discretely excused himself, leaving Jon and Mac alone but under the watchful eyes of the entire room. Richie was the only one that politely turned his back to the couple.

Roughly, Jon pulled Mac into his arms and held her tightly. "I need you," he whispered against her hair.

Her hands rested briefly on his chest, but then smoothed over the fabric of his dress shirt, past his collar stroking his neck right before her fingers slid into his hair. "Kiss me," she pleaded, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"You don’t have to ask," he told her, "in fact, there’s nothing that could stop me."

When his lips met hers it was without tenderness. It was no gentle kiss. It was a fiery meeting full of hunger and passion. His tongue swooped into her mouth to taste and tease, but when it retreated back home, her’s chased behind it. As their tongues dueled for supremacy, her’s slid past his lengthening fangs. With his arms around her waist, his hands slipped down to cup her ass, pulling her lower body tighter against his. He groaned as he tasted the sweet, tanginess of her blood, and he realized his fangs had pricked her tongue. He sucked hard on her tongue savoring the taste of her blood. Forgetting they weren’t alone, Mac moaned softly against his lips.

With super-human effort, Jon managed to get his senses under control. He nipped gently at Mac’s full bottom lip, then kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you, moglie mia," he told her softly, "don’t forget that."

"I’ve already told you that I won’t," she assured him, breathlessly.

There was one more thing that Jon wanted to tell her, but he was concerned that if he told her not to do it that she would do it anyway. He had to try. "Does your room overlook the courtyard?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Then please, Mac, I beg you to stay away from the windows today, but more importantly this evening after sunset."

"Why, Jon?"

"Because that’s where they’ll carry out Caleb’s sentence."

"What sentence, Jon?" Mac asked, fully aware that although the Council had handed down a verdict, they hadn’t said what the sentence would be.

Jon still couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Instead he just pleaded softly, "Please, Mac. Just stay away from the windows."

A polite cough came from Jon’s right, and he looked over to see Kristoff standing next to them. He’d been so involved in Mac, he hadn’t even heard his friend’s approach.

"Giovanni, I must separate the two of you now," Kristoff said regretfully.

"I understand," Jon replied.

"The Council will convene again the day after tomorrow to begin your own trial."

Jon bent his head to brush Mac’s lips with his, before he released her and stepped back. "Thank you, Kris," he told his friend, before he turned to leave the room between his two guards. Jon had fully expected his trial to begin when Kristoff had told him. They would carry out Caleb’s sentence tonight, and then tomorrow would be Caleb’s ceremony of passage. It would be a ritual to honor Caleb’s bravery in coming to the Council on his own for judgement.



*************************

That afternoon, back in her room, Mac paced the floor, back and forth past Richie, who was slouched in a chair with his booted feet propped on a low table in front of him.

Mac stopped her pacing to spin and face Richie. "Did you notice that they didn’t hand down a sentence, only a verdict?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I thought that odd, but then everything about this whole thing has been really strange."

Richie watched as Mac absently rubbed her chest. The pain must be back.

"Jon asked me to stay away from the windows today and tonight," she told him.

"Really? Why?"

"He said that they would carry out Caleb’s sentence in the courtyard."

Richie stood quickly and strode toward the nearest window. "Well, he didn’t ask me to do shit." Moving the curtain aside, Richie looked down into the courtyard and what he saw brought a curse to his lips. "Fuck," he swore softly.

"What is it?" Mac asked, suddenly concerned.

"Uh, nothing important," Richie told her, "just please do as Jon said." He headed toward the door. "I’ll be back in a few minutes."

Richie marched to his own room, slamming the door behind him. He picked up a vase and threw it violently against the wall. He now knew what Jon had been hiding for days. Richie was furious with his friend for keeping this from him and for leaving him to have to cope with Mac when she finally realized the truth. He strode across the room and once again looked out a window, down at the courtyard. There was only one reason that the Council wouldn’t have announced a sentence, and Richie knew why. Furiously, he watched as workers stacked wood for a bonfire in a circle around a tall wooden pole in the very center of the courtyard. Richie released the curtain, letting it fall gently back into place, and immediately picked up a lamp that was soon in shards against the nearest wall.

"Damn it, Jon," he cursed violently. He tried to calm himself. Richie knew he had to calm down and think rationally, because they needed a plan.


*************************

Mac had watched Richie storm out of her room. She hadn’t missed the clenched fists and the muscle twitching in his jaw as he fought to keep from losing control in front of her. She was unsure of her new vampire powers, but she was very sure of her gut instincts. Richie was pissed. Wild horses couldn’t have kept her from going over to look out that window.

At first, she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at, but once it clicked she stood there frozen in fear for several seconds. Finally, her legs got the message from her brain to start walking. She hurried from the room and went in search of the one person who could give her the answers she sought.

After asking several members of the household staff, she eventually found Kristoff in his office. She didn’t knock on the door; she just burst into the room to find him sitting behind a massive desk. His chair was turned to the side, and he was just staring at the wall.

When she stormed across the room toward him, he turned his chair so that he was facing the desk and an angry Mac. "Did you need something, Mac?"

"Yeah," she answered sarcastically, "Jon."

Kristoff smiled sadly. "Let me rephrase the question. Do you need something that I can get for you?"

Placing her hands palm down on the desk, Mac leaned forward. "Yeah," she repeated, "Jon."

Kristoff leaned back in his chair. Mac wasn’t sure if it was to seem more relaxed, or if it was in an effort to get further away from her angry snarl, but either way, she refused to back down. "Mac, as much as I would like to let you see Giovanni, I can’t. However, I would be happy to help you with anything else."

"Okay, we’ll get back to the Jon issue. Give me some answers."

"Answers? To which questions?"

"All right, let’s start with Caleb. It has come to my attention that he will be burned at the stake tonight. If that’s his sentence for kidnapping me, what is Jon facing for turning me?"

Kristoff seemed truly puzzled. "There is only one sentence the Council carries out, and that is death."

Mac’s heart fell to her stomach, and her arms were barely able to hold her weight as she continued to lean on the desk. Her face lost all color, and she had to take several deep breaths. Kristoff stood as if to come to her aid, but she held up one hand to stop him.

"Perhaps, you should sit down," he suggested.

"I don’t wanna sit down," she hissed angrily, "I want to see Jon. Alone." She stressed each word of that sentence, but not nearly as strongly as she emphasized the last word.

"I’ve already told you that is not possible."

"Is it the Council’s intention to kill me then?"

Kristoff frowned at her question. "Not this minute, no."

"Then you better make it possible to see him. Because, until you let me see him, I’ve drank my last drop of his blood." Mac spun on her heel and strode toward the door.

"Mac," Kristoff called after her, "please be reasonable. You’ll only be harming yourself, and this will certainly not do any good for Giovanni."

"He’s facing a death sentence.....how much worse can it get?" she tossed over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

Kristoff watched her go with mixed emotions. He had no intention of letting his friend be put to death. Giovanni had told him not to get involved to the point of danger to him or Maria, but he owed his friend. He was even now working on a plan that he would put into action if he was unable to convince one of the other two Council members to vote with him. Kristoff didn’t want to get Mac’s hopes up though, so he wouldn’t mention his plan to her. He smiled over her spirit though. Giovanni had chosen well.


*************************

In his room, Richie was making and discarding plans when he heard Mac’s door slam next door. But, it was the sound of something heavy smashing against the wall that sent him over to her room at a dead run. Throwing open the door, Richie stood frozen to the spot at the scene in the room.

Mac stood in the center of the room with tears rolling down her face, but it was the look of total fury on her face that immediately caught his attention. That and the furniture flying around the room at the slightest wave of her arm.

She was in a fine fit of temper. Richie watched as Mac’s arm slashed through the air like a conductor directing his symphony and a vase full of flowers flew across the room to splinter into a million pieces against the wall. Now, this was a conniption! And, it could mean only one thing.

She knew.

Chapter Thirty

Dinner was a tense affair. Mac couldn’t keep herself from blaming Kristoff and Maria for their part in Jon’s confinement. Richie sat next to her at the table keeping a careful eye on her. He was more concerned about her than he was showing the others gathered around the table. He wasn’t just concerned about her health and the pain that would soon hit her; he was also concerned about her stubborn pride and that she would try to sneak in to see Jon. Richie had joked and teased Jon over the years about the ‘infamous’ Council, but he was very aware of the power they wielded.

Kristoff had introduced the two of them to the other two members of the Council before they had sat down at the table. Richie had watched as Mac nodded her head to acknowledge the introduction, but had otherwise been very cold to them. Not that he blamed her, but he at least was polite and showed them the deference that their position required. They would, after all, be deciding the fate of his best friend.

Richie noticed that Mac didn’t eat much, only pushing her food around on the plate. He watched her absently rub her chest. Knowing what that meant, he cut his eyes to Maria. The woman nodded that she had noticed.

A few moments later, Maria stood and asked Mac if she would join her in the library. Reluctantly, Mac agreed, and Richie watched silently as the two women left the room. Once the women were out of hearing range, Richie turned questioning eyes to Kristoff.

"She will be fine," the vampire tried to assure Richie. "Drinking Giovanni’s blood will lessen the pain and allow her to go longer without a sedative."

"If she’ll drink it from a bag," Richie mumbled, forgetting for the moment he was sitting with three vampires who could hear his every breath.

The black haired, thin vampire with the British accent that had been introduced to Richie as just Sebastian turned piercing blue eyes on the guitarist. "Are you saying that she’s having trouble adapting to her new life?"

"No, not at all," Richie answered, silently cursing his own forgetfulness. "But, she’s only fed from Jon directly, never from a bag." He emphasized the last word to draw attention to the fact that even he found the thought of it disgusting.

The Council member that Richie had silently dubbed the ‘surfer dude’ when the introductions were made laughed then, drawing all the men’s eyes. His name was Constantine, but had quickly told Richie and Mac to call him Connie. The vampire had a deep tan and hair obviously bleached blonde by the sun and sounded like he’d just walked in from the nearest beach. "Oh come on, dudes, even you two old farts have to admit that we all prefer to eat ‘off the hoof’." That’s when Richie decided he liked ‘surfer dude’. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to end up hating him before this was all over.

Richie turned to Connie then. "I was meaning to ask you how you could possibly spend so much time in the sun to have that great a tan."

"Sunglasses, dude, sunglasses," Connie admitted, giving Richie a boyish grin, "I ask all the gods to bless the inventor of shades everyday. Well, him and the inventor of the bikini."

The three vampires laughed, and Richie couldn’t help but join in. Lord knew, he thanked the inventor of the bikini every day that he was at a beach or by a pool too.


*************************


In the library, Maria invited Mac to take a seat. Maria noticed how uncomfortable Mac seemed. "Mac, I know that we don’t know each other very well, but I’m hoping we can become friends," the woman’s ever-so-slight French accent was slightly heavier than normal.

Mac looked at the woman for a long moment before she finally answered her. "Maria, no offense, but I can’t separate yours and your husband’s involvement from what’s going on here long enough to even try to act friendly."

The other woman smiled at Mac. "You’re very blunt, I like that." Mac’s only answer to that statement was a little half-smile that was most definitely of a sarcastic nature. "And because you are so blunt, I will be as well. I know that you have powers that go beyond the ones you gained when Giovanni turned you into a vampire. You are a witch, yes?"

Mac was surprised. "How’d you know that?"

"I have powers of my own. Although, perhaps not as strong as yours, but I can see things about people just by touching them."

"Past, present or future?" Mac asked, genuinely interested in the other woman’s abilities.

"Mostly past, occasionally the present. The future, hardly ever," Maria answered. "Mostly, I just use it as a tool to judge a person’s character."

"Do you have any other powers?"

"I’m able to tell a person about their past lives. I’m able to see them as well when I touch someone. I know that you’ve lived several times before, just from the hug we shared earlier. Are you already aware of this?"

Mac was more than a little skeptical. "No, I wasn’t."

"And yet you dream of your previous lives all the time," Maria commented, softly.

Thinking about her ‘dreams of the past’, Mac shrugged. "Is that what those are?"

"Mac, you are a very powerful witch," Maria told her, "and yet you’ve turned your back on your skills. You should embrace your heritage."

"Now you sound like my mother," Mac told her, grinning.

"Maybe your mother is right," Maria responded. "Most people don’t dream of their past lives, and yet you do. But all of your past lives don’t interest me, only one of them."

"Is that so?" Mac asked, rapidly losing interest in this conversation.

"Yes, the young Italian woman that you’ve dreamed of so much recently," Maria told her.

"Why her?"

"Because of the link I share with Kristoff, I know who this woman is. You see, he met her many years ago. And, I’ll be blunt, who she was concerns me very much."

"Why would it concern you who I was in a past life?"

"Because, I care about Giovanni," was her only answer.

Mac didn’t like the way Maria said that. It almost sounded like a threat. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her denim clad legs. "Color me stupid, but what has any of this got to do with Jon?"

"That woman was very important to Giovanni at one time," Maria answered, giving Mac a hard look. Maria paused dramatically, wanting to judge Mac’s response to what she said next. "Her name was Cecilia."

Mac’s gasp echoed through the otherwise silent room. Jon had told her all about Cecilia. Would the knowledge that she was the love that once betrayed him effect the way he felt about her now?

"Are you sure?"

Maria could hear the hope in Mac’s voice that there could be a chance that she was wrong. "I’m sure," Maria told her.

"This isn’t happening," Mac denied, "all of this is just a terrible nightmare, and soon, I’ll wake up in Jon’s arms."

"No, Mac," Maria shook her head at the younger woman, "this is all happening, and you’re going to have to be strong. I want you to know what you’re up against. I think the men in our lives would prefer that you not know; they think they’re protecting you."

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"The physical separation of life-mates will cause pain. Not just of the emotional kind. It can also cause delusions and hallucinations," Maria started to explain. "The extreme emotional stress you’ve felt today since you were separated from Giovanni is just the beginning. The loneliness and hollow feeling will get worse and so will that ache you’re feeling in your chest."

"And the anxiety?" Mac asked.

"You mean the worry that he’s not well, that he’s dying and you’ll be left alone?"

"Yeah."

Maria nodded. "That will get worse. I have something that will make it better, but only for a short time. Eventually, a sedative will be required. I’m only telling you this because I want us to be friends, and I don’t think that it’s a good idea to try and keep it from you. The men think it’s wise to not increase your worries by telling you before the symptoms arise. So that, you’re not worried about what will happen until it’s happening. But, I didn’t want you to think you were going crazy. These symptoms are real, not your imagination."

"And what is this temporary fix?"

Maria got up and gracefully walked to a bar in the corner. When she came back she carried a large brandy snifter filled with a thick red liquid.

"Is that what I think it is?" Mac asked.

"It is blood drawn from Giovanni earlier," Maria told her. "I’ve kept it warm for you, and I thought drinking it from the glass would be far better than the bag it was in at first. Also, I got it out of the bag as quickly as I could, to avoid the unpleasant taste of the plastic."

Mac took the glass from Maria, but frowned in distaste. The thought of drinking the blood was still unappealing to her. She held the glass up to her nose and sniffed it experimentally. She smelled not only the tangy smell of blood, but also a faint whiff of alcohol wafted to her nostrils. "What else is in here?" she asked the other woman.

"I mixed in a little red wine," Maria smiled. "You will still get what you need from Giovanni’s blood and the wine will make it more palpable to you. I know it was very hard for me to drink Kristoff’s blood without feeding straight from him. I’m only offering what I wish someone had offered me."

"Thanks," Mac told her, smiling weakly. "Cheers, I guess," she said softly, lifting the glass to her lips. At first, she just took a little sip, but suddenly she was overcome by the taste and the smell, reminded of the last time she had tasted it. Reminded how her fangs had sank into Jon’s neck as she rode the waves of an orgasm, and before she knew it, she had gulped down the entire glass, somehow feeling close to him even without him being in the room.

"How is Jon?" she suddenly asked, breaking the silence in the room.

"Suffering from the separation just like you."

"Is there any way they’ll allow me to see him?" Mac asked, a desperate quality to her voice.

"Only at Caleb’s trial, which begins tomorrow, and then at Giovanni’s own trial."

Maria watched the range of emotions that flashed across Mac’s face, and knew what the younger woman was thinking. "Do not try to get in to see him," she warned. "It will only cause problems for him at his trial."

"Why would my actions affect his verdict?"

"You really don’t understand the rules at all, do you?" Maria questioned, leaning forward slightly in her chair.

"What rules?"

"The reason it is considered such a heinous crime for a vampire to turn a human without their permission is because then they are not bound by the rules of the Council. If a human agrees to be turned then they are agreeing to follow the laws. In your case, you were not given the opportunity to give consent or accept this way of life, therefore, Giovanni is responsible for your actions because he is your sire. They will hold him accountable for every rule you break."

The other woman’s words immediately quashed any plans that Mac had been making. She certainly didn’t want to cause Jon any more problems.

Mac stood on shaky legs. "I think I need to lay down."

"If you need the sedative later, just let me know," Maria replied.

"I will," Mac told her, nodding. "Will you please tell Richie that I went up to my room?"

"Of course," Maria answered, smiling.

"Good night," Mac said softly, as she headed for the door.



*************************


Somehow, Mac made a wrong turn on the way to her room and found herself in a long hallway that looked just like the one her room was on. The only difference were the two huge vampires guarding one door. She knew Jon was on the other side of that door, and although common sense told her to just turn around, her feet led her to the two vamps.

"You shouldn’t be here," one of them said in a hard tone.

"I’m lost," she told them softly. "I know that sounds like a lame excuse, but really I’m lost. I guess I turned left when I should’ve turned right or something. How do I get back to my room?"

Inside the room, Jon had been sitting in a chair trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest when Mac’s scent drifted to him from the hallway. He knew the penalty if she tried to get into see him, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see her. Practically flying across the room, he was soon leaning against the door, listening to her conversation with the guards. He hoped she was telling the truth, that she was really lost and not just trying to get in to see him.

One of the guards began to give her directions back to her room. When he was done with his recitation, she asked in a pleading tone with tears in her eyes, "Please, couldn’t I just see him for a moment?"

Through the door, she heard Jon’s voice, "Mac, please, just go back to your room." He sounded angry to her, or maybe just like it was hard to tell her to go away. What she didn’t know was that his forehead was against the door, with one hand pressed against the hard wood, straining to keep from tearing the barrier between them down just to get to her.

The guard who had given her directions gave her a sympathetic look. "I’ve been separated from my life mate. I know what both of you are going through." He looked at his companion, "If we didn’t let them out of our sight, what harm could it cause?"

The second guard shrugged. "I don’t see a problem with that, Duncan. But, the Council...". He left the sentence dangling in the air.

Duncan answered, "I will take sole responsibility."

Inside the room, Jon felt hope building inside him quickly replacing the pain in his chest. He took a step back from the door, hoping it would soon swing inward. After what seemed like an eternity, the door swung inward, but he didn’t even have the opportunity to see her before she was throwing herself into his arms. He savored the feel of her against him, while giving the guards a grateful look over the top of her head. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as his lungs were filled with her scent.

"I missed you," she was crying against his chest.

"I missed you, too, moglie mia," he said into her hair. "Did you feed?"

She was touched that even with the huge trouble he was in, his first concern was still of her. "Yeah, Maria put it in a glass with some red wine. It really wasn’t so bad."

With one finger, he lifted her chin so that he could look down into her lovely face. Seeing her tears, he gently wiped them away with his thumb. "I’m proud of you," he told her softly.

"For what?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You’re being so strong," he answered.

"I’m not being strong," she told him. "I’m falling apart. You’ve turned me into a weak, needy, clingy woman who can’t even be away from you for a few hours."

"Mac, I promise, this will all be over soon," he told her softly. "And, I’ll see you at the trial in the morning."

Duncan cleared his throat. "You really have to go now, miss."

She gripped Jon tighter. He knew she was about to argue. "Moglie mia, go. We wouldn’t want Duncan to get into trouble because of us. I love you, Mac."

Tearfully, she said, "I’ll see you tomorrow. I miss you already."

Gently, he pushed her away from him and closed the door himself. He heard Duncan giving the directions again, then her scent drifted away.


*************************



When Mac got back to her room, she found Richie waiting for her. He’d been sitting on the sofa, but stood up as she entered the room.

"Where’ve you been?" he asked, "I thought you would’ve beat me here."

"I made a wrong turn and ended up in the hallway where they’re keeping Jon," she answered. He gave her a doubtful look. "No really, I got lost. But, the guards were really nice, and they let me see him for a few seconds."

Richie’s face lit up. "Really? How is he?"

"He seems to be handling all of this a lot better than we are," she replied.

"It’s all an act," he told her, running his hands through his hair. "He’s always acted tough. Jon believes that’s what’s expected of him. Besides, he would want to be strong for you."

"He promised me that this would all be over soon," she told Richie. "And, I’ve got to believe that. Otherwise, I’ll go stark raving mad."

She started to tear up, and Richie tried to reassure her to forestall the crying he knew was coming. "Of course, surely they can’t drag this out much longer."

"I’m really tired, Rich, I think I’m gonna go to bed."

"Yeah, you do that," he answered, relieved that she wasn’t dissolving into tears. He watched her disappear through the door that led to the bedroom of the suite. Richie was really hoping that this was all over soon!

Chapter Twenty-nine

Following the man who had opened the door and welcomed them in, Jon guided Mac down a hallway with a protective hand at the small of her back. Richie followed close behind the couple. Vincent seemed to have just disappeared, his task completed. Mac realized that as soon as they had walked in the door that Jon’s glamour dissolved, leaving him looking young, but not vulnerable. She took courage from his strength.

The tall dark-haired man led them to a large old-fashioned library where a small blonde woman waited. She hurried over to hug Jon.

"Oh Giovanni, it’s so good to see you again," the woman gushed.

Returning her hug, Jon answered, "It’s good to see you again too, Maria."

Mac watched as the dark-haired man pulled Jon into a man hug, saying in heavily accented English, "You have been missed, Giovanni. I wish this visit was under different circumstances."

Stepping away from the other man, Jon nodded in agreement. "Me too, Kris." Then he pulled Mac into his side with one strong arm. "Both of you remember my friend Richie." They both nodded, and Richie and Kris shook hands. The guitarist also pulled Maria in for a brief hug. "And this is my life mate, Mac."

Mac was pulled away from Jon and enveloped in a big bear hug from Kristoff. "I’m so glad to meet you, and I’m also happy he finally found you."

"Turn the poor girl loose," Maria ordered her husband. Then once he had released Mac, Maria stepped up to hug her too. "It’s nice to meet you, Mac."

"Thank you," Mac said softly.

"She’s beautiful, Giovanni," Maria said.

"Da, she is more than you deserve, old friend," Kristoff laughed, slapping Jon on the shoulder.

Mac tried to reach out to Jon then, just to see if she could. But, it was like a brick wall stood between them. She tried harder, concentrating. Jon saw her frown and asked if something was wrong.

"This is not exactly the welcome I had expected," was all she said.

Kristoff looked at Mac and smiled. "This may be where the Council has convened, but it is above all my home, and Giovanni is always welcome in my home."

"I’m well aware of my welcome," Jon told the other vampire. "But, I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble for giving me special treatment. Call the guards, Kris. Let’s get this over with."

"The guards are outside the door, Giovanni," Kristoff explained. "If you are ready, I will call them."

"No," Mac pleaded, not sure she was ready to be pulled away from Jon.

Jon pulled her tightly against him, and nodded to Kristoff over her head. "It will be all right," he whispered into her hair. "I love you, Mac. We have to do this, but then one way or the other, everything will be okay." With a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his and kissed her gently. "This will all be over soon, I promise." He stepped away from her, and Mac noticed the two men who had entered the room. Jon moved to stand between them.

Jon watched Mac’s eyes tear up, and she angrily scrubbed a hand at each cheek. He smiled when Richie stepped over and pulled her into his arms. He heard his friend whisper to Mac that it would be okay, that he was with her. Jon wasn’t surprised when Richie looked up at him with sadness in his eyes.

"I’ve got your back, Kidd," Richie said softly.

"I know you do. I didn’t expect anything less." he replied, then followed the two newcomers out of the room.

Mac didn’t mind if Richie saw her tears, but she refused to cry in front of Kristoff and Maria. "Could you show us to our rooms?" she asked them.

Seeing her distress, Maria stepped forward. "Of course, Mac, your bags are already in your rooms. Just follow me."

Maria had been separated from Kristoff right after she had been turned. She understood what Mac would be facing. A separation between life mates was rough. Immediate sadness at first, then after several hours there would be a physical pain that would start as an ache in the other woman’s chest, but would soon become almost unbearable. Maria was sure that Mac would have to be sedated just to keep her comfortable. She knew from her own experience that Kristoff had also experienced the pain, and she worried not only for Mac, but also for Jon.

They arrived at Richie’s room first, but he only looked inside then followed Maria to the room next door that would be Mac’s.

"Thank you, Maria," he told the woman, taking control of the situation. "I’ll take care of her from here."

Maria realized she was being dismissed, but she couldn’t go without making sure that Richie knew what would be coming. She turned to Mac. "Would you excuse us for just a moment?"

Mac looked at Richie questioningly. She had been so glad that he had seemed to take over the situation, since she couldn’t seem to think straight after Jon had been led from the library.
"It’s okay, Mac," he said gently, "I’ll just be a minute."

"Okay," she agreed weakly, before going into her room.

Maria explained the situation to Richie quickly. Leaving nothing out, she told him what would happen in the next several hours. She assured Richie that she would come with a sedative later, if he wanted. Suddenly, Richie felt out of his league. How was he supposed to take care of her, if he didn’t know what to do for her?

Maria could see the confusion on his face. "No fears, Richie," she soothed, "Giovanni is our friend as well; Kristoff and I will help take care of her. She will not suffer over much, if we can help it."

"Thank you," Richie responded. "But, I should warn you. Mac is a very strong willed woman. Very independent. She may not be willing to accept help from people she considers strangers. To be honest, I’m surprised she has clung to me like she has."

"She will continue to cling to you, Richie. Mac will see you as a sort of surrogate for Giovanni. She will need your strength and your patience."

"She already has it," he answered. "She became a member of my family when Jon told me what she was to him."

"I understand," the woman said.

"I should go to her," Richie told her. "I’ll let you know if we need anything."

"As you wish," Maria told him, and turned to go.

Richie walked through the door and suddenly found his arms full of a crying woman. Gently, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to a sofa. He sat down with her still in his arms and began to rock her gently. Smoothing her hair with one strong, long-fingered hand, he murmured soothing words to her. All he knew to do was try to comfort her as best he could.


*************************

Jon quietly surveyed the room that had been assigned to him. A strange feeling of emptiness had almost overwhelmed him only moments after he’d left Mac in the library. It was like a piece of him was missing. Somehow, he knew Mac was hurting; it felt like how he had heard amputees explain the sensation of still being able to feel an ache in their missing limb. He knew his own pain would start soon; he only hoped that it would fill the gaping hole in his soul where Mac’s lightness had resided. He tried to tell himself she was in the castle with him; that she was fine, but not being able to reach out to touch her mind was almost unbearable. It almost made it worse knowing she was so close yet so far away.

His room was actually a suite, made up of a bedroom and sitting room. In the bedroom, he found his luggage and sent out a silent thank you to Kristoff. His guitar case was among his luggage; at least he’d have one friend in his solitary confinement.

The knock on his door was as unexpected as the scent of his guest, that floated to his sensitive nose under the door.

"Come on in, Kris. It is your home after all," he called out.

Kristoff opened the door and walked in smiling. He turned to say something to the guards and closed the door. Jon motioned to one of the armchairs arranged around a low coffee table. The two vampires took a seat.

Jon was the first to break the silence. "You shouldn’t have come, Kris. This will look bad for you."

"I had a discussion with the other members of the Council. They understand that we are friends and have agreed to allow me to visit you. I am to be your liaison from them and to keep you apprised of your lifemate’s condition," Kristoff explained.

"So this is an official visit then," Jon said, nodding.

"As far as they are concerned," Kristoff told him.

"How is Mac?"

"As well as can be expected," the Russian answered.

"Don’t hand me that shit, Kris," Jon replied, "give it to me straight."

"Maria told me that she is suffering slightly from the separation. The loneliness hit her hard at first, but your friend is keeping her company. The physical pain hasn’t started yet."

Abruptly, Jon stood up and ran a hand through his hair in frustration before starting to pace the room. He wanted this to all be over quickly. Not for his sake but for Mac’s.

"When does Caleb’s trial start?" Jon turned to Kristoff to ask.

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Will I be allowed in the courtroom at the same time as Mac and Richie?" Jon knew that under normal circumstances all the witnesses against Caleb would be allowed in the Council chambers at the same time, but since those same witnesses were to testify against him at a later time, he wasn’t sure how it would be handled.

"Yes," Kristoff answered, "but conversation between you will be kept to a minimum. As you know, the Council will not allow any whispered comments. Everything must be said loud enough for everyone present to clearly hear."

"I understand," Jon nodded. He was silent for several seconds, before exploding. "I don’t know if I can take this, Kris. I need to know she’s okay."

"She will be fine, Giovanni," Kristoff told him patiently. "I, myself, will administer a sedative if it is needed. She will not suffer. I promise you this, my friend."

"You don’t know Mac," Jon warned, "she won’t ask for help. She’s strong and stubborn. She has a hard time asking for help from people she knows, and she considers you and Maria strangers."

"Your friend has already warned Maria of this problem," the other vampire replied. "We won’t wait for a request of help. We will just step in when we are needed."

"Will you be taking blood for her now, or will you come back later for that?" Jon asked.

"If you are ready, we can do that now," Kristoff answered.

At Jon’s nod, Kristoff rose and walked to the door. When he came back into the room, he carried with him medical equipment to draw blood from Jon.

"Have a seat, Giovanni," Kristoff said softly, "this will only take a few minutes."

Jon sat back down in the chair he had vacated earlier and watched as Kristoff inserted the needle in a vein in his arm. Once the blood was flowing freely through the tube and into the bag, he said very softly, "Kris, thank you for seeing that my guitar stayed with my luggage."

"You don’t have to thank me, my friend. I wasn’t ordered to take it from you, therefore it stayed. I knew what it being in here would mean to you."

Jon nodded. "You’ll let me know if there’s any problems with Mac feeding, right?"

"Of course," Kristoff answered, seeming slightly offended. "I would not let you worry needlessly. But, I assure you she will be fine. Someone will come by later to feed you."

"Kris, I didn’t mean to offend you," Jon told him quickly. "Look this is a little personal, but until now, Mac has only fed during sex. In the throes of her orgasm, is the only time she has been able to bite me and feed. I’m only concerned that she won’t feed from the bag."

"Ah," Kristoff nodded in understanding, "she has the same aversion to feeding that Maria had at first. Only the uncontrollable and instinctive urge to bite me kept my lifemate alive and well fed at first, also."

Jon laughed. "Humans. I won’t ever understand the big deal about drinking blood."

The other vampire realized, Jon was trying to lighten the mood and joined in his laughter. When the bag was full, Kristoff removed the needle from Jon’s arm and gathered the medical equipment.

"Maria will be visiting Mac and Richie shortly. We hope they will join us in the dining room for a light dinner. I will closely inspect her for any signs of pain then. I will tell you everything I know, Giovanni."

"Thanks, Kris."

Jon watched his friend leave the room. This was a hell of a lot harder than he had thought it would be. He went to his bedroom and bent to open the case. Pulling his old friend out, he sat down on the bed, with his guitar on his lap. He retrieved his notebook and pen from the case also, and began to strum idly. Every so often, he scribbled in his notebook. He didn’t know if anything he was working on would ever be heard by another soul, but at least it would take his mind off worrying about Mac.