The following days passed quickly. Chevalier studied the house from the loft, watching as people came and went bringing flowers and food. Each guest came with open arms and left with red eyes.

"He must have been loved," Chevalier thought to himself.

During the days that followed Allen's death, there was no sign of Emily.

The fourth night was cold. The wind was howling, and the moon was almost full. Chevalier was again sitting in the loft watching the house. He was moments from knocking on the door to make sure things were alright, when the door suddenly opened with a loud bang. Emily ran from the house toward the barn. All she wore was jeans and a t-shirt. She hadn't even bothered putting on shoes.

"Emily, don't do this!" Keith yelled, following her out of the house.

The doors to the barn swung open, and Emily appeared. She was bareback on a sleek black Thoroughbred. She kicked the horse, and he immediately launched into a fast gallop.

Keith stopped and watched her leave, then he sighed and went back into the house.

Chevalier only had a moment to think. With his keen senses, he was able to pick up everything that was happening in less than a second. Emily was riding too fast, and the moon wasn't bright enough for the horse to be sure of his surroundings. She could barely hang on, not having bothered putting on even a bridle. She was out in the freezing cold, and there was the unmistakable smell of alcohol on the wind.

His movements were a blur as he left the barn and ran after her, keeping close to the trees. Even with his speed, he had a hard time keeping pace with the horse. Emily ignored the gates and pulled the horse into a jump. Chevalier made himself move faster. He had to catch up with her and stop the horse before...

It happened too quickly for even Chevalier to intervene. Emily pulled the horse into a hurdle over a gate, and when he landed, the horse's feet hit the ground improperly. Emily hit the ground first, and the massive Thoroughbred rolled over her and then scrambled to his feet. Chevalier stopped suddenly and watched. Emily was unmoving on the cold hard ground.

He approached slowly. The horse stomped at him and moved back a few steps. As he got closer, he noticed that Emily was not only breathing, she was crying.

He knelt down beside her. "Are you hurt?" he asked as the rain started.

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Her breathing was labored. "I found you."

The rain began to turn to sleet. He reached down and picked her up, cradling her as he'd been longing to do for days. He carried her swiftly into the trees where it was dry. "You were looking for me?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I need you to help me."

How could he be holding a threat? She looked fragile and pale in the dark night. He found it hard to imagine how quickly she could turn on him.

"Anything," was all he could say. He was acutely aware that he would do almost anything for her, but he still didn't understanding why.

Emily turned her face into his neck and pulled her collar away from hers with a shaking hand. Her warm breath was on his neck as she spoke, "Kill me, please."

He looked down at her exposed neck, and the vein throbbed invitingly. What he saw also shocked and angered him. Beside the delicate vein were scars. Marks left by greedy and uncaring heku. Heku who had long since turned to ash.

The doctor Storm sent was also a donor, so she was able to serve dual purposes. Emily was still unconscious. The concussion wasn't as serious as it could have been. Four broken ribs and a broken collarbone, along with scrapes and bruises over most of her body was the final tally from the horse falling on her. Chevalier was feeling better with the fresh blood in his system, and his mind was clear to think. The doctor had given Emily a hefty dose of morphine to kill the pain, and she assured Chevalier that Emily would be asleep for hours.

He watched her as she slept. Her delicate features were more pronounced with her pale complexion, a sign of the concussion. Her breathing was still labored, which worried Chevalier, but the doctor had assured him it was just due to the broken ribs, which were now tightly bound to try and prevent further damage. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, but he was afraid it would wake her.

He glanced briefly at the morning paper, which was still sitting on the floor under the hotel room door. Chevalier grabbed it, staring at the front page. Just below the bold writing "Local Cascade Woman Missing" was a picture of Emily, smiling brightly beside her painted mare. The article misrepresented the information. It stated that she was out riding in the afternoon but hadn't returned, and that her horse was found dead late that night by searchers. Chevalier frowned. If Emily found out that he had killed the horse, she wouldn't be happy. His anger had gotten the best of him when her injuries became apparent, and out in the storm, it was easy to catch and kill the skittish horse.

He tucked the newspaper into his bag and pulled out the small silver cell phone. He wasn't sure yet who he was going to call or what he would tell them when he did. He was harboring a woman that the entire state was looking for, an innocent killer. Chevalier hoped that Storm was right in trusting the doctor. By now, she had surely figured out that the woman in his hotel was the missing one from the papers.

The decision was easy for him, the decision on how to handle Emily and her abilities. It went against everything Ulrich told him, but Chevalier didn't feel any desire to follow those instructions. He had in his possession a weapon that was greater than any he'd seen, and with an unending heku war, her talents would be invaluable. First though, he had to tell her about them, and then he had to teach her how to control them. He couldn't take her back to his coven and have them be in danger.

His house in the cold mountains of Colorado would work perfectly. It was only accessible by snowcat year-round, so it was isolated and safe. There, he would be able to try to teach Emily how to control what she didn't yet know she could do. He also noted, solemnly, that it would keep her out of the protection of Ulrich's eye. It wasn't past his notice that it also put him in grave danger. He could vividly remember the intense burning pain she had once inflicted upon him, but he didn't have a choice. He needed her in the coming war, but he also didn't think he could live without being near her.

Emily stirred in her sleep, and her fists clenched slightly. "Please," she asked softly.

Chevalier froze. He wasn't sure if she was waking or merely talking in a dream. He watched her as her eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids. Her breathing was coming faster, and her soft brow furrowed briefly. Whatever she was dreaming wasn't pleasant. He smiled to himself, again amazed at the simple human frailties that plagued such a natural killer.

He stood up quietly, walked over to the bed, and reached down, gently touching her soft cheek. Almost immediately, her hands relaxed and her features returned to the peacefulness of sleep.

Chevalier turned to walk back to the chair when he heard her speak again, one single word, so soft he couldn't be positive that she even said it.

"Chevalier"

He turned to look at her, but nothing had changed. Shaking his head slightly, he sat down and picked up the cell phone, still contemplating who to call and what to say. He knew the Council would want an update soon, and he thought it would be better to do it by phone than have them send representatives to talk to him. He stepped into the adjacent room and shut the door to make his call, still trying not to wake Emily.

It was a few minutes before he could be connected to an Elder. Even in his world, red tape surrounded everything, and the need for secrecy made it worse.

"Chevalier, do you have news for us?" The voice sounded eager.

"Not a lot yet," he said, lying smoothly. "The girl is interesting and may be of use to us, but I'm not sure she has the powers of the Winchester family. It'll take more time to be sure."

"We aren't sure you have much more time, but do what you think is right. We trust you."

"I will. I'll call when I know something." The click of the phone ended the conversation before he let something slip or let the extreme urgency enter into his voice.

He opened the phone again and dialed. This time, it rang only once before someone answered.

"Yes, sir?" Storm sounded pleased to hear from him.

"I'm leaving here. Don't call me unless it's an emergency. If I need anything, I'll call you."

There was a brief silence, and he could tell she was debating whether or not to ask more questions. "Are you bringing her here?"

"No, and if I'm lucky, no one will know where I've gone."

"You can tell me, sir. What if there's trouble?"

"I can't risk the Elders finding my location. I trust you, but I don't trust them."

She began to ask another question, but he ended the call when static on the line alerted him that she might not have been the only person listening.

Chevalier went back into the room and began packing his things. He looked at the medication left by the doctor, noting he had five more doses of morphine and syringes to administer it. She had also left hand-written instructions on how to care for each of Emily's injuries.

As soon as it was dark, Chevalier loaded his things into the back of a black Bugatti Veyron and lowered the passenger seat as far back as it would go. He went inside and checked to make sure he'd left nothing, then watched Emily for a moment before he gently pulled her arm out from under the covers. He couldn't have her waking up during the long trip to Colorado. After cleaning a small area of her upper arm with alcohol, he pulled the cap off of the needle and carefully injected one full dose of morphine.

He put the cap back on the needle, deciding to dispose of it outside where no one would find it. A small trickle of blood escaped the puncture wound. Chevalier breathed deeply, and the pleasing aroma made his throat burn. He touched one finger to the drop of blood and brought it hungrily to his mouth.

Once he regained complete control, he reached down tenderly and picked Emily up, gathering the blankets around her. He normally refused to use his full speed when in a public place, but he couldn't risk her being spotted. It was only a fraction of a second before he was setting her down gently in the car. The morphine was working. She didn't even move as he buckled her in and deftly slipped into the driver's seat.

He let the car idle for a few minutes as his mind did the math. It was around 830 miles to the small town closest to his home in Colorado, and with heku modifications, his car could sustain 250 mph. That seemed dangerously fast to anyone else, but with the fast reflexes inherent to heku, it was perfectly safe. Accounting for weather and other obstacles, he figured he could be in the snowcat in just over four hours. Once he loaded up the snowcat with supplies, it was another two hours to get to his house. That last dose of morphine should keep Emily comfortable and unaware for the entire ride.

She stirred only once during the trip, when the soft drizzle that started around midnight turned into a violent hailstorm. It was in Buford, Colorado, where he stopped to grab supplies. The tiny town nestled deep in the Rocky Mountains consisted of one small store and a cabin. He paid a local teenager to go into the store with a list of supplies while he waited with Emily. The boy glanced at the sleeping girl once, but Chevalier brought his finger to his lips, indicating that she was sleeping.

After leaving Buford, it was only a few miles to the turnoff. The tiny dirt road was partially hidden by thick evergreens and large aspen trees. From here, it was slow going. The road was neglected, and its winding path was riddled with local wildlife. Slowly, the terrain turned from dark green to white as the year-round snow began. Up ahead, he caught sight of the curved outline of the private garage. He went through two locked gates before drawing up to it and opening the large door, then he pulled the Bugatti inside and shut the door behind him.

The snowcat was already partially stocked with supplies and extra fuel. Speed wasn't a problem here. No one was around the area for miles. He quickly passed the supplies from the car into the snowcat and made a make shift bed out of the backseat. Emily gasped slightly when Chevalier picked her up, but she settled down comfortably onto the bed. It was still dark, which was how he preferred to travel.

The lights from the snowcat lit up the stark white snow as he moved slowly out into it. He drove the snowcat a lot slower than he preferred, trying not to jostle Emily around and cause her to wake up. The two-hour trek up the mountain went smoothly, and the time allowed him to consider all of the options for teaching Emily about her ability. The trick was how to teach her without her turning it on him. He suddenly worried what would happen to her if he was turned to ash, leaving her alone in the treacherous high country.

It wasn't until he was almost to the house when he saw it. It was securely hidden by dense trees and overgrowth. The windows were black and lifeless as he pulled the snowcat into the garage and shut the door behind him, surrounding them in complete darkness. He stepped out into the garage. Its stinging cold didn't bother him, but he shut the door quickly to keep Emily out of it.

The wall panel lit up when he touched it, bringing the generators to life, fully charged by the solar panels. He adjusted the temperature in the house up to 75 degrees, and with a short code, the fireplaces all came alive, blazing with warmth. He went back to the snowcat and picked Emily up, holding his breath. She was starting to stir a bit. Chevalier entered the spacious house and headed for the nearest bedroom, where the bed was very near the fireplace. Laying her down gently, he covered her with a heavy down quilt, then went to work getting the supplies out of the snowcat and putting them away in the house.

A snowstorm raged outside of the sizable house, and the wind howled through the White River National Forest as Chevalier sat in an ancient rocking chair and watched Emily sleep. He suspected that it wouldn't be long until she woke fully. She'd opened her eyes several times, but they were unfocused and soon closed again. His plans were made, well laid out for his protection, but he hoped they would produce fast results. The never ending faction war wouldn't wait for him.

With a groan, Emily sat up in the unfamiliar room. Her hand suddenly grasped her side as the broken ribs screamed at the movement. Chevalier was sitting by her side in an instant, slowly lowering her back onto the bed.

"It's okay, Emily. Lay down," he assured her, gently positioning her so her head was propped up a bit, making it easier to look around.

"Where am I?" she asked, her eyes taking in the large bedroom.

"You're safe. You are in my home." He stayed on the bed and kept a hand firmly on her shoulder, so she wouldn't hurt herself trying to get up.

Her piercing green eyes looked deep into his and narrowed slightly. "How long have I been here?"

"Four days. What's the last thing you remember?" He was hoping it would save some time if she remembered some of the night they left the ranch.

She thought for a moment, and a sudden realization showed on her face. She nodded. "I was on Coal, and I was looking for you."

He smiled. "You found me."

She frowned as the memories came back to her. "He fell. Coal did... I... I don't remember anything after that."

"Coal fell on you. That's why you are in pain. You have a broken collarbone, several broken ribs, and a concussion."

"How is Coal?" she asked suddenly, worry showing in her eyes.

Lying always came easily for him, but he didn't want to lie to her. "He wasn't hurt in the fall. He stood right back up, and then I brought you here."

"Where is here?"

"That's something I will tell you later. For now, you only need to know you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

She cocked her head slightly to the side and listened. "We're alone?"

Chevalier simply nodded.

She studied his face. "Am I a hostage?"

"No," he said, and smiled broadly. "You may leave when you want to... and are well enough to travel."

"Does Keith know where I am?"

"No"

"Does anyone?"

He sighed. "No."

"I have to get back. I have to watch after the ranch and..." She paused, her mind taking it all in. "Keith is going to kill me."

Chevalier shook his head. "You can't travel yet. Besides, there's a severe snowstorm out there. We won't be going anywhere. You must be hungry."

Emily nodded.

"I'll get you something. Behave and stay in bed." He stood up carefully and was out of the room before she could even see him move.

As soon as he was gone, Emily braced her ribs with her hand and swung her legs out of bed. She was tangled briefly in a long white nightgown, but she was able to free her feet after some effort. She wondered how she had gotten into the gown and where it had come from. It was long sleeved and billowy, similar to one she'd seen in a museum.

Once she was sure she was steady, she stood up, gasping softly as her ribs protested against the movement. Her left arm seemed weak, and when she moved it, a sharp pain raced down her shoulder. She braced herself against the headboard as her head swam dangerously close to unconsciousness, and black started to encroach on her vision. After a few moments, it cleared, and she took a cautious step away from the bed.

With sore, stiff muscles, she made her way to the large window. Her hand touched the soft lace curtains and pushed them aside. The view was breathtaking. Her bedroom was on the second floor, and the window looked down over the side of a mountain where the trees were barely visible beneath the deep snow. Emily wasn't sure how far she could actually see on a clear day. The falling snow made it hard to see more than half a dozen yards or so.

She jumped when Chevalier's hands slid around her waist. "What part of stay in bed did you not understand?" he asked softly.

Her eyes were locked on the window. "It's so beautiful out there."

"Hmm, well I prefer what's inside," he said, smiling slightly.

She felt heat rise to her face. She always hated when she blushed, but she had no control over it. Chevalier led her away from the window with his hands still tight against her waist, in case she started to fall. He picked her up effortlessly and laid her back in bed. She inhaled deeply. The food smelled wonderful, and she realized she was starving.

The room was silent while she ate. The food burned her mouth, but her hunger won out. The taste was exquisite, like nothing she'd tasted before. It had been so long since she'd eaten that she filled up quickly.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, noticing him watching her.

"No," he said, amused.

She put the fork down on the dainty silver tray and turned to look at him fully. "You're a vampire."

"Okay"

"Aren't you afraid of Keith finding you?"

Again, his voice sounded amused. "No."

Her lips thinned. "He has a way of finding vampires and killing them."