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."


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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.