This is a continuation of my story 'The Rekindling'. For those just tuning in, or simply a bit fuzzy on the details, I will sum up: These events all take place after Last Knight. Vachon is back and he's brought both Tracy and Natalie across. Nick's fondest with has been granted and he has become mortal. Tracy and Vachon have left Toronto for a fresh start, while Nick & Nat remain together to help each other adjust to their new natures. If you truly want all the gory details, 'The Rekindling' can be found at Bonnie's most excellent Vachon fiction webpage: http://users.lanminds.com/~callalily/jdvfic.html Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, I just feel very strongly that they deserve better than they got. Permission given to archive. Premoistened for your convenience. ====================================================================== Fires Kindled Erika Wilson April 1998 "Now at last I have come to see what life is, nothing is ever ended, everything only begun." - Sara Teasdale ====================================================================== Chapter One: "A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark." - Dante "Nat," Nick almost shouted, raking fingers through his tousled blond curls in frustration. "I don't understand. What are you saying?" He had just walked into the loft after attending Tracy Vetter's 'funeral' and Natalie knew that his emotions were overwhelming his cognitive functions, so she repeated herself patiently. "I'm ready. Let's go." He tossed his sunglasses onto the table and slid wearily into a chair. "Are you trying to tell me that you want to leave Toronto? Now?" "Yes, exactly." "B... but we haven't even heard from Vachon yet--" "--Tracy called while you were out. They've settled in New Orleans. She couldn't leave a number for us, but said she'd call back later. I think she wants to know how her funeral went." Nick looked a bit green. "You can't be serious?" Natalie shrugged. "Hey, it may be the only funeral she ever gets. If I were her, I'd be dying to hear about it." Nick rubbed his hand across his mouth and unshaven cheeks. "That's *usually* how it works." He muttered. "Look, it's barely been a week since... it's not like you need to fake your death like she did, why are you in such a hurry to leave?" Natalie threw up her hands and spun away. "It may be easy for you, Nick. I'm sure you're looking forward to finally playing softball at the precinct picnic, but I don't have any convenient allergies to hide behind, not here, not with these people that I've known for--" She broke off suddenly and went into the kitchen where she yanked open the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle. Nick got up and watched as she downed half of the bottle's contents with poorly disguised urgency. "It's more than just that, isn't it?" He asked quietly. "Yeah?" She almost sneered as she deliberately pushed the bottle away. "And what would you know about it?" "You forget, I've been there." He moved towards her slowly. "Has something happened?" "Ohhhh, nothing much. It's just that last night I came *this* close to giving my very close friend Grace a hickey. You know, one of those fatal kinds?" "I... see." "That's all you can say, 'I see'?" "Nat, that's part of being a vampire. Not just the thirst, but the urge to kill. It's always that way." "No." She denied. "No it's not. I checked with Tracy. She's not having the same problem staying on the bottle, not like I am." She looked at Nick accusingly. "What's wrong with me, Nick? Why would I be different?" "I... I don't know." He replied, his brow knitting with confusion. "I've heard that the nature of one's Master has a lot to do with how one reacts to... the change, but you and Tracy were both brought across by Vachon. Your vampire characteristics should be very similar." "Wait," Natalie breathed slowly. "Wait, that's not entirely true. Vachon may have given me the blood that brought me across, but it was you who--" "--Who drained you in the first place." Nick finished, nodded as he understood what she was getting at. "Vachon made you what you are, but I was the one who took away what you had been." "Replacing it with... what? Your blood-lust? Your need to kill?" She laughed shortly. "Well, that's just great. Thanks." A familiar blankness suffused Nick's face and Natalie rolled her eyes. She had hoped that his annoying flashback habit would have disappeared along with the fangs and glowing eyes, but that was apparently not the case. "Marion." He whispered. "What? Nick, c'mon, focus." His eyes locked back onto hers. "Marion Blackwing, remember?" Natalie's mouth formed a silent 'o'. "I thought she'd healed me on the spirit walk, but it turned out that I'd infected her with my lust for killing instead. Just before she died, I... I took it back into myself. I couldn't let her spirit suffer with my burden." "And you think that I... that you...? Don't be ridiculous." But her eyes were filled with uncertainty. "Nat, even you admitted that there was more to vampirism than just the physical symptoms." "Well, sure, I can certainly accept a strong psychological element, but a transferable spiritual essence? I think that's pushing the credibility envelope a bit far." "You're standing there next to a bottle of O-negative, lecturing *me* about credibility?" Nick shook his head slowly. "Come on, Nat. Open you eyes, please! Don't dismiss possibilities simply because they can't be proven scientifically." "No." She replied quietly. "No, you don't understand. If I accept things like that, I can't believe in a cure. I need to be able to define my condition with scientific precision. Then and only then will a cure be possible." Nick reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "But Nat, we already know that a cure exists. We proved it." He cupped her face gently. "I am more than willing to prove it again. Believe me." He kissed her, tenderly at first and then with growing passion as her arms pulled him closer and he felt the urgency of her response. Suddenly he found himself lifted up and deposited on the couch with Natalie lying on top of him, eyes bright and fangs extended beyond her soft lips. His heart pounded with equal parts of desire and fear at the sight of her like this and he did not fight as she pushed his head to the side and ran her tongue along his neck. "You think I haven't considered that option?" She growled throatily. "Do you think I haven't spent every minute we are together listening to the sound of *my* blood flowing in your veins, dreaming of the moment I could reclaim it? This moment, maybe?" "Yes," he gasped. "Go on, take it. Give me back what is mine." With a rabid snarl, she flung herself over the back of the couch and retreated into the kitchen, reaching anxiously for the half-finished bottle. Nick sat up weakly and regarded her with puzzled relief. "Why?" "Because," she growled, still fighting to control her beast. "I am not you." She finished the bottle, carefully rinsed it out and placed it in the recycle bin. Only then did she turn back to Nick. "Maybe it would work. Maybe I could stop when you couldn't. But maybe I wouldn't. We could end up back where we started, or we could both end up like this, or... or..." "Or you might kill me." "Yes. Can't you see? Janette's cure is too unpredictable, too risky. I have to find my own way back." Nick turned his face away and studied the dark wood of the mantle. "And where am I while you are doing this?" She walked around the couch and stood in front of him. When she caught his eyes, she kneeled and took his hands in her own. "You will be there to remind me why." She nestled her cheek against one of his palms, cherishing the warmth. "I need your heartbeat Nick, calling me out of this silent darkness. Can you understand that?" "Of course," he smiled. "I know exactly what you mean." He raised them both to their feet and kissed her forehead. "So, shall we start packing?" End Chapter One ===================================================================== Chapter Two: "In my dead heart the fire still burns for thee." - Hafiz Tracy replaced the phone on its hook thoughtfully and moved aside with a slight smile of apology as another patron of the club shouldered past her impatiently. With a little sigh, she wondered how long it would be until Vachon thought to get them their own phone. Thinking back on the primitive conditions at the church in Toronto, she knew there was no point in holding her breath. Especially now that she could probably hold it for days, if not decades. Their current situation wasn't much of an improvement. The abandoned flat Vachon had located for them had limited electricity, no air conditioning and tepid water that looked and smelled as if it was pumped directly from lake Ponchartrain. "Well," she mumbled to herself, thinking back on the last 'Dracula' movie she'd seen. "I guess it's better than sleeping in a crate full of dirt from one's homeland." "Tried that." Vachon informed her as he materialized an inch from her ear. "Not bad, but I prefer the little packing peanuts. They keep you warmer and a whole lot cleaner." "Eeep!" Squeaked Tracy, whose enhanced senses were still unable to prevent her sire from sneaking up on her. "Stop that!" She thwapped her knuckles against the lapel of his leather jacket. "I'm not going to spend eternity waiting for you to jump out at me every time I turn around, am I?" He simply stood and looked at her and she could feel the stillness flowing from him into her until the noise and the crowd of the club faded away and only the two of them existed. He reached out and tucked a strand of straight blond hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. "Would that be so bad, querida?" He asked softly. She felt herself leaning in towards him and held herself back with some difficulty. "No." She tried to say, but she had forgotten to breathe again and there was no air behind the word. A crease appeared in his cheek, though there was no evidence of a smile in the dark liquid depths of his eyes. His hand slipped through the smooth silk of her hair and molded itself around the back of her neck. He felt the slight stiffness of her resistance and stepped in to fill the gap between them himself. His lips were cool. They were always cool and now hers could do nothing to warm them, but before her lids dropped, she saw the fires leaping behind his eyes and felt an answering fire rising in her own. "What?" Vachon whispered as she mumbled against his lips. "Packing peanuts aren't biodegradable." Tracy repeated, trying to speak around the constriction in her throat. "You should fill your crate with something more friendly to the environment." "Newspaper leaves black smudges." He answered and she saw the gleam of a smile replace the golden sparks in his eyes. "And bubble-wrap can drive you nuts." He brushed the tips of his fingers along the side of her neck, causing her to shiver, but then stepped back slightly, not pressing the issue. "So, did you talk to Nick? Are they coming down?" The world returned as a crush of noise and heat and Tracy pressed her lips together in a tight grimace. Vachon nodded and led her outside into the warm, sultry night. She lifted her arms and took a deep breath, marveling at all the tastes and flavors that swirled in the air around her. "Ah ah, careful." Vachon cautioned as he gripped her shoulder and pushed her heels back down against the ground. "No floating." "Oh, sorry. Sometimes I just forget." "I know," he quirked his mouth in a smile. "I think your blood must be naturally carbonated. All fizz and bubbles." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Hunh, now there's an idea. Cutting the blood with carbonated water instead of wine. I bet that would taste good." Vachon shuddered. "Yick, it sound disgusting." She bumped him with her elbow. "Don't be such a skeptic. Just because it hasn't been tried before doesn't mean it has to be bad." He shook his head ponderously and glowered at her from beneath a dark scowl. "Ungh," he grunted. "No. Change bad. Jane come live in tree house. Not go back to loud stone jungle." With a sudden lunge, he scooped her up into his arms and spun around while her shrieks of outrage fought with her laughter. The laughter won out and she giggled helplessly against his neck as pedestrians regarded them with indulgent smiles. He stiffened with a sharp intake of breath as he felt the pointed edges of her teeth scraping gently against the skin of his throat. "Querida..." he pleaded huskily. "Take me home, Javier." She whispered into his ear. "With the wings of angels, mi amor." He fled with her into a darkened alley and from there into the sky. "We won't have much more time to ourselves." She told him as they sailed high above the edge of the lake. His grip around her tightened. "They're coming then?" "Yes." He felt the tremor of her laughter. "He wants to take the caddy." "They're driving down?!" He asked in disbelief, losing several yards of altitude from surprise. "What, with Natalie in the trunk?" "Not if I know Natalie." Tracy stated firmly. He felt her teeth against his neck again. "How much further to the house?" "Who says we need a house?" And he shot them so high into the sky that Tracy wondered if they might break free of the bonds of gravity. Then with the city a mere speck of light beneath them, he looked at her with fire burning in his eyes. "Come," he whispered. "Let us blaze like meteors across the sky." The fell back towards Earth, wrapped securely in each other's arms. End Chapter Two ====================================================================== Chapter Three: "A glowing ember, burning hot and burning slow. Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you." - Sarah MacLachlan "No!" Natalie glared at him stormily. "Absolutely not! I am not spending one second in the trunk of that car!" "You won't have to, Nat." Nick assured her, trying to get her to look into his eyes so she could see the depths of his sincerity. "We'll stop well before dawn each night and find a good hotel to spend the day in, I promise." He finally caught her eyes and gave her his best smile. "There are so many things I want to show you and this may be our last chance to take some time for ourselves. Just think of it, a whole week to do whatever we want. Whaddya say?" She tried to frown at him mulishly, but even without the strength of the vampire behind it, his charm was still formidable. "Just tell me that you're *not* doing this because you care more about that car than you do about me, okay?" Nick looked properly insulted. "Absolutely not! I'm hurt that you would even suggest such a thing. If you don't know by now how I feel--" "--Enough Nick." Natalie interrupted. "You win, we'll take the car." He gathered her tenderly against him, burying his lips in her hair. "It'll be wonderful," he whispered. "You'll see." ***** "Okay," she admitted as they stood on the balcony of their hotel as the first faint glimmers of dawn began to spark the famous rainbows of Niagara Falls. "This isn't so bad." "Told you so." Nick gloated mildly as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Now come inside. I want to see if we need extra coverings for these windows." She turned around in his embrace and draped her arms across his shoulders. "Will you do something for me?" "Anything." He smiled. "Will you watch the sunrise for me? I want to see it through you." A flicker of pain passed across his features, but he bent his head and kissed her lips with aching tenderness. "Of course." He ushered her inside and positioned her against the wall as he stood in the doorway of the balcony. A slight breeze, caused by the warming air ruffled his hair and he closed his eyes to better feel its soft touch. The first rays of the sun pressed tentatively against his lids and he opened them to a dazzling brilliance. Fear, nurtured over eight centuries crashed through him, but the sound of his heart pounding against his ribs in terror proved how unnecessary that fear was. He laughed and glory burst across him as the sun hauled itself over the edge of the horizon and turned the falls into an avalanche of liquid fire. He turned his face, washed with rose, amber and violet towards Natalie and she saw the tears sparkling like diamonds on his cheeks. He reached a hand through the barrier of light that separated them and she pulled it towards her lips. "It was worth it." She told him in a tremulous whisper. "No matter what the cost, it was worth it, just for this moment." ***** "So, they have moved on." LaCroix turned the heavy silver ring around his finger thoughtfully. "Where?" "His effects are being shipped to New Orleans." Janette informed him. "He and his coroner are driving down." LaCroix gave a sharp bark of laughter. "How terribly amusing. He does dote on that car of his. I must say that I am encouraged by your reports." "I don't think I understand." Janette frowned faintly. "How is this encouraging?" LaCroix stood up and began striding leisurely about the room. "Why, just think about it my dear. Our *precious* Nicholas has finally achieved his fondest wish; he has broken with his past and can now turn his face towards a brave new future, short though it may be. But what does he do? Does he discard all reminders of his sordid past, rush towards his new humanity unfettered by the remnants of what he once was? Oh no, he carefully packs up everything and moves on as if nothing at all has changed." Janette pressed a lacquered nail against a blood-red lip. "Thereby compromising the one great change that has occurred. Of course." She shook her head with fond condescension. "Silly Nicola. He was always accumulating *things*. Momentos that represented nothing more than the remembrance of past failures and pain." LaCroix moved behind Janette and placed his hands on her velvet-clad shoulders. "Such a great one for unnecessary suffering, our Nicholas." "Well then, he should enjoy what the future holds for him." She moved away to pour them both a drink. Taking the glass she handed him, he touched it gently against her own in a silent salute. "New Orleans it is, then." He regarded her dark, serious expression over the edge of his glass and smiled. End Chapter Three ====================================================================== Chapter Four: "How great a matter a little fire kindleth!" - James 3:5 "We're lost, aren't we?" "Of course we're not lost." Nick refuted, scanning the horizon irritably. "The landmarks have just changed a little since the last time I was here, that's all." "So when was the last time you were here?" "Eighteen ninety-three." "Eighteen ninety-three?!" Natalie sputtered. "Are you trying to tell me that you've been navigating by hundred year-old landmarks?" "It was working just fine until that last turn-off." Nick grumbled. Natalie raked her hair back furiously. "Of all the--Nick," she suddenly broke off her incipient rant as fear crept into her voice. "What's that over there?" He looked to where she was pointing and swerved the car violently onto the shoulder. "Damn!" The sun is coming up. C'mon, you're going to have to get into the trunk." "No! I told you, I refuse to spend one second in that metal coffin!" "Nat," Nick pleaded, opening the trunk and holding out a hand to her. "We don't have a choice. I'm sorry. Please, don't make me watch you burn." The fear in his voice and her own screaming instincts sent her scrambling away from the growing brightness into the secure shadows of the trunk. "You *will* find decent shelter and get me out of here, Nick." She informed him through gritted teeth as she scootched around, trying to find a comfortable position. "As soon as possible." He assured her. "There's plenty of blood in the cooler if you get hungry." He kissed the tips of two of his fingers and drew them lightly across her cheek with a little smile. "Don't worry, it won't be long." And the lid came down with a dull . It was long. The day grew beautiful and Nick reveled in the sights and sounds around him. Driving at night, with the headlights illuminating only the road ahead had left him with an aching need to *see* the country he was passing through. And now with the car open to the bright sun and the blue sky, Nick felt as if he could go on forever. By the time he'd gotten back on track and passed several good-sized towns, Nick realized that he'd better find someplace pretty special to justify leaving Nat in the trunk for so long. It was a few hours to sundown when Nick entered the outskirts of St. Louis. He drove around for awhile, getting his bearings and then pulled over to the curb, idling while he thumbed through the Michelin guide, looking for a truly great hotel. "Nice car." A young man wearing loose jeans, flannel shirt and a baseball cap slouched against a nearby pole. "A real classic. Must be a scream to drive." Nick looked up, eyeing the young man narrowly before offering a tight smile. "Thanks. I like it." "Well we like it more," the young man moved closer and Nick tensed for a confrontation. "Don't we Wayne?" "Uh huh." Replied a voice from over Nick's shoulder. Nick caught a glimpse of the other boy in the sideview mirror before he felt a sharp blow against the back of his head. The two youths dragged him roughly out of the car and dumped him on the curb. He heard their laughter over the sound of squealing tires as they tore away into the city. "No!" He screamed silently as he tried to pull himself up the pole, but the world swam around him drunkenly and he slipped back down as everything went black. He came to as someone was patting at his pockets. He flailed out wildly, furious at the idea that he would be robbed as well as car-jacked. Fortunately this individual was more timid than the other two and he fled from Nick's aggressive response. Staggering to his feet, Nick looked around, fear clamping an icy fist around his heart. There was still nearly an hour until sunset. If those boys decided to take a look in the trunk while the sun was still up... he closed his eyes at the horror of the image. He could do nothing. Never had the limitations of his mortality hit him so strongly. He could not fly, he could not fight. He hadn't even been able to prevent this situation in the first place. "Oh Nat," he whispered into his hands as he sagged against the pole. "Forgive me." He had to have help. He needed to contact the police. He knew there would be hell to pay if Natalie was discovered in the trunk, to say nothing of the blood in the cooler, but he had no choice. When the time came, he would think of something. He could always say the two boys threw her into the trunk. Everything else could be taken care of. Just so long as Natalie was safe. On the phone, the police were fairly sympathetic, especially when they verified that he'd been a police detective and that his girlfriend had been taken along with the car. They were also heartened by the description of the vehicle, since there just weren't that many 1962 mint-green Cadillac convertibles tooling around the city. They put out an APB and sent someone to pick him up. The waiting was the worst. Nick passed a restless hour at the station while a paramedic tried to get him to sit down so he could examine the injury on the back of his head. Nick was just at the point where he was going to go looking for the captain and ask if he could do a ride-along when there was a familiar buzzing in his jacket. He pulled out his cellphone with shaking fingers and flipped it open. "Hello?" He asked with difficulty, since he was holding his breath. "Where are you?" A familiar voice asked grimly. "Nat!" Nick's breath burst out in a gasp of relief. "What happened? Are you all right?" "Where *are* you?" She repeated distinctly. "The police. 54th precinct. I have no idea what street." "I'll find it." She sounded tired. "Stay put." "Nat wait, I want to know what--" but she'd hung up. He stared at the phone, wondering whether he should be elated or angry. He decided to put that issue aside and informed the desk sergeant that his girlfriend would be coming in, apparently unharmed. Hours later, after Dr. Lambert finally convinced the police that her abductors had simply abandoned the car with her in the trunk and she only had the vaguest idea of what they looked like, Nick and Natalie were finally allowed to depart. Nat took the driver's seat and did not say so much as a word to Nick until they pulled up in front of the finest hotel in St. Louis. "Get the bags. I'll register." She told him tersely. "But Nat I--" she held up a hand and he fell silent. When he got to their rooms, she was already in the shower. He waited, pacing impatiently. The water stopped and a few moments later she came out wearing a hotel bathrobe, toweling her hair dry. She sat down on the edge of one of the beds and looked at Nick for the first time that night. "They're alive." She told him. "They drove around until it was dark and then pulled into an alley to start going through our stuff. I knocked them out and tied them to a fire escape. Someone will find them eventually. Nick breathed a long-held sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure--" "--Neither was I," she said in a low voice. "By the time I got out of that trunk, I was so angry... at you, at them, I felt like I wanted to sink my teeth into a lead pipe, just to relieve some of the pressure." "Did you?" He asked, letting a smile tip the corner of his mouth. "Just about. I wasn't gentle with them, that's for sure." "But you didn't kill them." "No," she breathed softly. "I didn't kill them." She looked up at him, eyes large and lost as she held out her arms. "Oh, but I wanted to Nick. I really wanted to." He knelt by the side of the bed and buried himself in her embrace. "You didn't." He told her. "You didn't." He held her until the morning light began to creep through the gaps in the curtains. She murmured softly as he pulled away, but he smoothed the hair away from her face until she slipped back into that suspended state that passed for sleep among vampires. After securing the room against the intrusion of daylight, he slipped into the other bed and lay there for a long while, silently watching her and wondering how they could both possibly manage to survive. End Chapter Four ===================================================================== Chapter Five: "Thou wilt never more endure without the flame, when thou hast known the rapture of burning." - J. Rumi Tracy lay entwined in Vachon's arms, marveling anew at all the changes two weeks had wrought in her life. All that she had lost; her family, her career, her belongings, seemed so faint and insubstantial as she gazed at the dark smudges of Vachon's eyelashes lying against the pale skin of his cheeks. "What are you thinking about?" Vachon's voice rumbled softly, though his eyes remained closed. "Well, I *was* thinking about your eyelashes." She replied, lifting one hand to brush against the rough stubble along the line of his jaw. "But right now I'm contemplating your mouth." The feature in question twitched slightly, hinting at the possibility of a smile. "What about it?" "It's... a very nice mouth," she informed him. "Especially the upper lip." She touched it gently with a finger. "But I like it best when you really smile." Pursing his lips together, he kissed the exploratory finger, then with aching slowness, a smile of dazzling splendor spread itself across his face. At the sound of Tracy's sharply indrawn breath, he opened his eyes, which he knew shone as brightly as two gold coins. He watched entranced as a rising fire blossomed behind the cool silver pools of her eyes, until she dropped her gaze. "Ah, no Cara," he objected softly, lifting her chin upwards. "Don't hide this from me." He chuckled a little. "It's not like we can have any secrets from one another anyway." He felt her stiffen suddenly and knew that he had voiced one of her greatest fears. He closed his eyes momentarily and when he opened them, they were dark and full of understanding. "I'm sorry," she whispered unevenly. "It's just that I... I... ." She shrugged helplessly. "Tracy, it's all right," he assured her. "If there's one thing I understand, it's the need for freedom and independence. Yes, we are bound to one another, by bonds of blood as well as... other ties. But I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want." She glanced up at him and there was a hint of the usual mischief in her expression. "So you're not going to lay some heavy deal on me to 'stop senseless killing in the world' and then hound me to the ends of the earth when I tell you to stuff it?" "No," he drawled wryly. "That's one thing you can be pretty sure of." "Well," she said as she eased herself back into his embrace. "That's okay then." ***** When evening came, Tracy said that she wanted to try and call Nick, while Vachon needed to check out a new source of bottled blood in the Vieux Carre. They agreed to meet at midnight by the statue in Jackson Square. Instead of using the phone in the club, Tracy decided to make the call from a payphone on the outskirts of a small park where it was much quieter. She dialed Nick's calling card number and wondered if her erstwhile partner could be talked into lending her some money. Vachon's idea of what constituted the 'bare necessities' of vampire life differed somewhat from her own and she thought it would be nice to go shopping without having to 'whammy' the clerk instead of paying. She wasn't even sure she could 'whammy' anyone. She hadn't really tried yet. The whole idea kind of gave her the creeps, actually. After punching in what seemed like dozens of numbers, the phone finally rang. "Hello?" Nick's voice sounded rather thin, but that may have been the satellite connection. "Nick, hey, it's Tracy." She felt a sudden feeling of happiness bubbling up inside her at the sound of Nick's voice. She loved Vachon, really she did. But there was a great relief in talking to someone else who *understood*. "Where are you guys now?" "I'd better hand you off to the official navigator." Nick replied formally. "She makes all decisions concerning speed and direction." "Hi Tracy." Natalie greeted her and Tracy thought she heard a faint in the background, followed by Nick's voice raised in a protestation of pain. "We've just left Memphis so we should be able to make New Orleans before dawn. We'll be staying in the penthouse at the St. Charles, so why don't we get together tomorrow night?" "Uhh, sure, that sounds great. But hey, you know you're always welcome to stay at our place." Natalie murmured something to Nick, who laughed. "Nick wants to know if you have hot water and room service." "Wellll..." "That's okay honey, we know what Vachon's used to." Tracy could hear Natalie's smile over the phone. "Maybe you'd like to stay with us instead?" The offer was tempting, but Tracy remembered what it felt like to wake up next to Vachon and the tingly feeling she got when she saw him quietly watching her with those bright yellow eyes. "Wellll..." "I know, I now," Natalie chuckled. "Tell you what, between the two of us, I'm sure we can civilize our savage little Spaniard." Tracy grinned. "He's not going to like that." "I know, it should be fun. I can't wait to get started. Give us a call at the hotel tomorrow, okay?" "Okay. And Nat? I... I'm really glad you're coming." "Me too hon. Me too." Tracy hung up the phone, still smiling. A strange sensation tugged at her and she spun around, realizing that her fangs had dropped and the world had sharpened to an almost painful clarity. There was another vampire nearby, one that was unfamiliar to her. But there was something peculiar about it as well. Tracy couldn't put her finger on it until a golden retriever burst out of the underbrush in hot pursuit of a very frantic squirrel. "A dog?" He jaw dropped in surprise as she watched the dog effortlessly block the poor squirrel's every attempt to escape. Feeling rather sorry for the squirrel, Tracy pursed her lips together and whistled uncertainly. "Here boy, c'mere. C'mon boy." The dog came to a screeching halt and the squirrel immediately launched itself up the nearest tree, not stopping until it swayed dangerously among the very highest branches, chittering hysterically. The dog looked up at the tree with his tongue hanging out in a big canine grin and then regarded Tracy with a thoughtful cock of the head. Tracy knelt down and held out her hand. "C'mon boy. I won't hurt you." The dog came bounding over and greeted her with a series of snuffles and licks. "Well," Tracy smiled, petting the dog's rich golden coat. "You're certainly a friendly one. You act like we've met somewhere before." She froze at a sudden thought and searched through the thick ruff of neck fur to find the dog's collar and tags. The name on the tag said 'Perry'. "Omigod." Breathed Tracy and she suddenly felt the presence of a second vampire. "Hello Tracy," Jody said as Tracy looked up at her old friend with wide, disbelieving eyes. "I never thought I'd see you again." End Chapter Five ================================================================= Chapter Six: "When from the heavens I saw her first descend, my heart took fire." - J. Passerat Tracy looked into Jody's smiling face and golden eyes with disbelief bordering on shock. "Jody," she whispered. "You're a... how did you...? Who...?" Her eyes narrowed with grim suspicion. "It was Nick, wasn't it? All those rides home and him being so nice to Perry? And all along he was planning on bringing you across. And he never told me." She stomped her foot angrily. "Ooooh, I swear, the minute he gets here I'm gonna suck every last drop of blood from his deceitful body!" Jody laughed. "No Tracy, it wasn't Nick. Though you're partner did give me a few helpful tips before I left Toronto. It was Perry who brought me across." Jody looked down at her faithful companion tenderly and Perry's tail wagged with joyful vigor. Tracy was almost speechless. "A dog?" She finally managed to squeak. "You were brought across by a dog?" She regarded Perry with a puzzled frown. "I've never heard of anything like that happening. Does that mean you're both... carouches?" Jody shrugged. "I don't know if there's a name for what we are. We don't hang around with other vampires much." She wrinkled her nose. "Most of them don't understand what's between Perry and me, so we keep pretty much to ourselves. It's not so different from the way things were before." The eyes she turned on Tracy were dark, but filled with bright wonder. "Except now, I can fly again. And the world is an even more beautiful place than I remember." Tracy felt her throat closing up and she wondered if it were possible for vampires to cry. "Oh Jody," she sniffled. "I'm so happy for you." She stepped forward and the two women embraced. Perry wiggled himself between them, whining about being left out and they parted, laughing. "But Tracy," Jody asked. "What about you? I heard that you had been killed. Was Nick the one who...?" Tracy shook her head and sighed. "No. It's... well it's a bit complicated." "I've got a place nearby," Jody offered. "Why don't we go there and get caught up? It's about time for Perry's snack, anyway." She ruffled the dog's ears. "I try to keep him well-fed. Squirrels are one thing, but the neighbor's pets are a different matter entirely. He's usually a good boy, though. Aren't you Perry?" She laughed. "Except when he gets around pigeons. Once he found out that he could take off after them, well... it's quite a sight." Tracy shook her head bemusedly. "I can only imagine." ***** Vachon paced impatiently at the foot of Jackson's statue. Tracy was late. He didn't wear a watch, but he didn't need to. His time-sense had been honed to a fine pitch over the past four hundred years and he knew with deep irritation that Tracy was way overdue. This was the problem with caring too much about something. This worry and anxiety. It had been a long time since he had concerned himself with anything more than the preservation of his own skin and he was starting to think wistfully about the good old days. But he'd sworn to look after her. He'd made her his responsibility by bringing her across, but it went beyond that. Ever since he'd gone after Vudu, all for her sake, he'd felt hopelessly protective of her. But after he'd 'died', she'd been left on her own. He remembered those moments in her hospital room as he listened to her heart struggling valiantly to keep beating. She'd looked so terribly fragile and it tore at him to know that he hadn't been there to save her. He still saw her as that frail mortal creature, even though there were very few things now that could do her any lasting harm. Knowing this did nothing to untie the knot of worry twisting his insides, and he felt the unfairness of it all. *She* was supposed to be the one with the overdeveloped sense of responsibility. He did not appreciate having the tables turned on him. There was a flicker on the edge of his awareness as someone landed softly behind him and he turned around with an exhalation of annoyed relief. The lecture he had prepared died on his lips with the swift realization that this was not Tracy. It was almost like looking at a reflection of himself. The tumble of raven-black hair around a marble-pale face that was dominated by a pair of large, expressive eyes. But where his body was angled, hers was curved. The two creatures, both seemingly made of moonlight and shadows circled one another cautiously. "You must be Vachon." Her voice had a delightful lilt to it and Vachon felt his mouth curl into a smile. "I'm sorry, have we met before?" "Not... formally, no. I am Janette. I was the previous owner of the Raven." "Of course. I've heard about you. I think you left Toronto just about the same time I got there. You might have known one of my friends, though. Urs?" "Yes, sweet Ursula. I remember her." She moved closer. "I heard what happened and I am terribly sorry for your loss. I too know what it is like to lose those who are closest to you; friends... loves... family." He looked into the midnight depths of her eyes and found himself growing dizzy. He knew that she was one of the oldest of his kind and there was an aura of ageless power about her, but there was also a peculiar sense of newness. It was, he found to his surprise, a very alluring combination. She smiled and he was entranced by the unexpected dimples in her cheeks. "I understand that you have been looking for a supplier. I have many connections her in New Orleans and would be happy to establish a relationship with you." "A *business* relationship?" "I have found," she said as she moved in closer until they stood only a handspan apart. "That I prefer to mix my business with my pleasure whenever possible." From some unseen pocket of her cloak she produced a dark green bottle and a card. "This is one of my best pressings for you to sample. If you approve, you may give me a call." "Sure," he nodded vaguely as she seemed to eye his mouth hungrily. "Sounds great, thanks." Any further words were stopped by a kiss that left him blinking bemusedly at the place where she had been standing. Her departure was so sudden, he wondered if he might have imagined the entire encounter. "Vachon?" Tracy's voice finally penetrated through his fog and he shook his head. "Tracy. Hi." "Oh Vachon, I'm so sorry I'm late, but you would not believe what happened to me tonight!" "Were you late? I hadn't really noticed. No big deal anyway. Happens to me all the time." "Oh, yeah, sure." Tracy felt a small twinge of disappointment at Vachon's lack of concern. "What've you got there?" "This?" He frowned at the bottle in his hand, trying to remember how it got there. "Oh, yeah, it's a sample from a new supplier. It sounds like top stuff." "Great!" Tracy grinned. "I guess we both had good luck tonight. Speaking of which..." She took his arm and started walking in no particular direction. "I've *got* to tell you what happened!" "Sure Tracy," Vachon's eyes slid up past the top of her head to gaze into the sky. "I'm listening." End Chapter Six ====================================================================== Chapter Seven: "Things that suffer death quench not the fire of deathless spirits." - M. Buonarroti Natalie was not listening to him. Her eyes were fixed on a spot above the horizon where a lone star seemed to beckon. The cold purity of the star's brilliant light was reflected in her face and Nick wondered with a painful jolt what she would be like in a thousand years. How much of the Natalie he had known would be left after so many dark and soulless nights? Of course, he would be dust long before he would have to find out, but there was no comfort in that. He knew quite well what she had sacrificed so that he might experience the luxury of aging and a natural death. How many times had the Nicholas he had once been died? He remembered how it had felt as a part of him died along with every one of his victims, just as he remembered the name of every star in the sky. He reached over and brushed his knuckles against Natalie's pale cheek, smiling as she looked back and the emotionless mask crumbled away beneath his touch. It was true he had died countless deaths, but somehow the man he had once been had found itself reborn within the loving heart of a mortal woman. For this precious gift, he would give her everything he had, everything he was. ***** It was so hard when Nick looked at her like that, with the love he felt for her shining out of his eyes. She yearned to bury herself in that love, taking it into herself until she could finally feel warm again. There was something inside of her now, telling her how it would be; what it would feel like to drink of that essence, down to the last, exquisite drop. It was the same for every surge of emotion, whether anger or love or fear, the response was the same. The need to take it in, to drink it down. She knew that she could experience the deepest of passions in a way that had never been possible before. It was a seductive knowledge, powerful and utterly terrifying. "Nick," she said quietly with the merest tremor in her voice. "Please don't." His understanding was immediate and she breathed a silent sigh of relief as he turned his eyes back to the road without hesitation. "Spica." He told her, pointing through the windshield. "What?" "That bright star on the horizon. It's Spica, in the constellation Virgo." "Oh," she looked at the star as if she hadn't noticed it before. "Are you going to teach me the names of all the stars?" He glanced up at the endless expanse of lights overhead and gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I hope," he said softly. "That neither of us will have the time." Watching the wind ruffling through his bright curls, she remembered how he had looked as the light of the rising sun poured over him. It was enough. It would always be enough. "Well," she told him. "Why don't you start and we'll see how far we get, okay?" He looked at her in surprise and found himself able to answer her laughter with some of his own. ***** "She was brought across by a *what*?" Vachon stopped suddenly and turned Tracy to face him. "That's what *I* said." Tracy responded, flinging her arms out. "Her dog did it. Is that crazy or what?" Vachon shook his head in befuddlement. "I've known some vampires who've never been able to bring anyone across. Not enough control at the critical moment." He grinned. "I'd love to hear what they'd have to say about a dog doing what they couldn't. He must be an amazing animal." Tracy nodded as they continued their aimless walking. "Before... well, before, Perry meant the world to Jody, literally. And now..." She fell silent, thinking about the connection between Master and Fledgling. He chuckled, knowing what was going through her mind. "Now the bond between them is unbreakable, right querida?" He let a small frisson of awareness flow from him into her and she shot him a sharp glance out of the corner of her eyes. "Now stop that." He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Do you really want me to?" He brushed his cheek against her hair, marveling anew at its golden shine. She ran her hands along his forearms and dropped her head almost shyly. "No, not really, but--" "--But?" "Well, I was kinda hoping I could spend some more time with Jody before Nick and Natalie get here. I don't want to lose her again, not when we've both been given a second chance." He hugged her and then dropped a kiss on her nose. "That's fine. Go on and desert me for a night of girl talk. I'll curl up on the fire escape and play heartbroken blues riffs on my guitar for the neighbors." She gripped him around the throat and throttled him gently. "Oh you." She growled as she kissed him. "Thanks. If I'm not back before dawn, don't worry, she said I could crash there for the day if I wanted." He raised his eyebrows at this. "What on earth are you going to talk about for all that time?" She grinned at him wickedly. "Guess." He groaned in mock horror. "I'll deny it all when I finally get to meet her, you know that, don't you?" "Yeah, and who do you think she'll believe?" Tracy taunted. "A fellow police officer she's known for years, or some scruffy Spanish slacker, huh?" He cupped her face in his hands and smiled in the way that sent her heart plummeting into the ground. "Oh, I don't know," he murmured huskily. "I can be quite persuasive. In my own scruffy Spanish way." And then he really kissed her. Tracy felt her knees begin to wobble and Vachon tightened his grip to keep her upright. "Okay," she finally gasped. "You've made your point." "That wasn't to prove anything, querida. That was just to give you something else to talk about. And to give you a reason to come home." He brushed his lips lightly against her and in a brief flurry of light and shadow, he was gone. She touched her mouth with a trembling hand and sighed. "As if anything on this earth could keep me away." End Chapter Seven ===================================================================== Chapter Eight: "A scorching flame burns all the standers by." - Publius Naso Vachon did take his guitar out onto the balcony, propping his feet up on the ornate iron railing and tipping a rickety chair well back on its legs. And while the notes he softly plucked were slow and thoughtful, they did not give the impression of heartbreak. A slight flicker within the shadows at the end of the balcony caught his attention, but this time he knew who it was and did not stop playing as she approached. "That was nice." Janette commented quietly when he stopped. "I find that I rather miss the music from my club. Do you think you could play something for me?" He looked at her face and shoulders rising like a pale flame from the dark velvet of her dress and then turned to regard the bright stars strung out across the midnight cloth of the sky. The tune he began to pluck out was archaic and sounded as if it should be played on a much older instrument. With soft precision he began chanting the words to a poem almost as old as he was. Janette had no trouble translating the antique Spanish phrases and found herself enchanted by his choice. "O flame of living love, That dost eternally Pierce through my soul with so consuming heat, Since there's no help above, Make thou an end of me, And break the bond of this encounter sweet. O burn that burns to heal! O more than pleasant wound! And O soft hand, O touch most delicate, That dost new life reveal, That dost in grace abound, And, slaying, dost from death to life translate!"* With catlike steps, she circled around behind him, running her fingers lightly through his hair and across the back of his neck. He shivered at the gentle, intimate touch, but he did not stop playing. "Where is your little golden fledgling tonight?" She asked as she toyed with the long, tangled locks. "I saw you take leave of her by the bridge. She is young to be out on her own." "I was on my own by the second night. I did okay." He strummed a soft flamenco rhythm. "You were watching?" He asked mildly. "Why?" Her hands crept around to explore the lines of his jaw. "You... interest me. You seem so free and unfettered and yet here you are, tied down so tightly by responsibility, you can barely move. Why is that?" He leaned into her cool caress like an appreciative cat, but there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. "Because the freedom," he explained. "Would have been unbearable." Her hands stilled and she tipped his face up so she could look at his expression. He was smiling slightly. "Oh my," she remarked. "You *are* an interesting one." She leaned over and kissed him. Vachon enjoyed the cool, knowing touch of her lips on his, but it was mostly curiosity that kept him from pulling away. He did not know who she really was, or what she wanted, but there was an edge to her kiss that tasted of desperation. And despite his carefully cultivated air of disinterest, the image of a fair damsel in distress aroused a fierce sense of protectiveness in him. The fact that he had been the direct cause of distress for innumerable damsels troubled him not at all. Eternity was too long to dwell on that sort of troublesome irony. But when she pulled back and he looked up at her glowing eyes and the sharp glitter of her fangs, he put his hands on her shoulders and held her away. "No." He told her quietly. "Why not?" She hissed. He shrugged. "I guess I'm just not that kind of guy. I appreciate the offer, though." She moved away in a blur of speed and swept her cloak up from where she had dropped it. Swirling the dark fabric around her shoulders, she looked at him coyly and smiled. "Well, you know how to get in touch with me if you happen to change your mind. Or even if you just want to talk. I feel that we have much to discuss, you and I. ." And she was gone. Vachon sighed and pushed his chair back with a series of dangerous creaks. Settling his guitar against him, he began to play again and this time there was a dark and rather unsettled undertone to the music. When the first light of dawn began to taint the horizon, he stood and stretched, scanning the sky with more than idle interest. He saw nothing there and was about to turn and head back inside when a pair of slim hands covered his eyes. "Guess who?" A deep and patently phony voice asked. Vachon grinned widely. "You've been practicing, haven't you? I didn't feel you there at all." Tracy clapped her hands together and bounced happily around to face him, draping her arms across his shoulders. "Did I really sneak up on you?" Spanning her slim waist with his hands he looked into her clear, glowing face and nodded. "Yes you did. I was completely and utterly surprised." With that admission, she melted against him with a sigh of deep satisfaction. "Good." And she kissed him with a sense of utter abandon that delighted him. There was such clarity and honesty in her embrace, he felt as if he could remain just as he was forever. "Ummm, Vachon?" Tracy murmured. "What?" "Maybe we should go inside now. I think you're starting to smolder." Blinking with surprise, Vachon realized that she was right. He'd been so captivated by her there on the balcony, he'd completely forgotten about the rising sun. Lunging for his guitar, he swept it and Tracy through the window and onto the bed in a tangle of pillows and blankets. Laughing, Tracy eased the guitar from his grasp and wound herself between his arms in its place. "I'm glad you made it back before dawn." He whispered. "Me too." She whispered back and proceeded to prove it. * 'O Flame of Living Love' - by St. John of the Cross, (tr. A. Symons) End Chapter Eight ===================================================================== Chapter Nine: "When I burn for thee, I grudge the pyre no fuel...not my soul." - Theocritus Nick led the way to their room, carefully skirting the shafts of early morning light slowly spreading their way across the broad lobby. Natalie kept her sunglasses on and tried to keep to the shelter of the shadows. Her body cried out for rest and even though she had fed heavily on bottled blood during the night, the mortal heartbeats around her sounded like thunder in her ears. Nick's, nearest as always, was the loudest and most seductive in its rhythm. He entered their rooms before her, pulling the heavy drapes shut and pinning them securely before he allowed her to enter. She headed for the bedroom and when he would have followed, she put up her hand. "No, Nick please. I... I need to be by myself for awhile." She looked up at him and he could see the light of desperation in her eyes. "Right, sure, I... I'll just walk around outside a bit. I'll come back later, when you're asleep." Her smile was tight, but thankful. "That sounds good. I'm sure I'll feel better by tonight." "Yeah, you get some rest." He made an abortive move to kiss her, but she turned away quickly and shut the door. He stood there for a moment, then he pressed his fingertips lightly upon the wood, closing his eyes against the pain they were both feeling. He left the room and returned to the lobby. This time he walked purposefully through each square of golden light, marveling at the clean-etched shadow that followed him across the carpet. He thought about the story of Peter Pan, who had lost his shadow, until a practical-minded Wendy sewed it back on. By the time he reached the revolving doors that spun him out into the light-filled world, he was smiling. ***** "What's this?" Natalie murmured when he dropped the silver thimble into her lap as she sat at the dressing table, combing the tangles from her wet hair. "It's a kiss." He explained, taking the comb from her and running it gently through her hair. She let her head drop back under his tender ministrations and he watched with satisfaction as a smile of contentment stretched across her face. After a long, relaxed moment, her eyes flickered at met his in the mirror. "A kiss. I get it. Peter Pan, right?" "Right." "What brought that on?" "I became reacquainted with my shadow today." "Ah." She nodded in understanding and let her eyes close again. Nick continued to comb Natalie's hair, enjoying the feel of it beneath his hands as it dried and became as smooth and shiny as silk. "Tracy called while you were in the shower." He said softly. "They'll be here in an hour or so." "Mmmmmm," Natalie purred. "Whatever. Just don't stop." He placed his lips close to her ear and gazed longingly at her reflection. "Not until you tell me to." ***** "Nick, stop." Natalie laughed as he appeared with two more bottles of 'refreshments'. "There's only the three of us. How much do you expect us to drink?" "I'm the host." He explained. "I don't want to run short. Especially since I'm also going to be the only one at this party with a pulse." "What," she smirked gently. "Afraid you might end up as a cocktail?" "That would be stretching the bounds of hospitality a bit far, wouldn't you say?" "Oh yes," she replied, imitating his snobbish tone. "Just a bit." She gripped the lapels of his jacket and was pulling him down for a kiss when there was a knock on the door. She turned her head quickly and Nick found himself with a mouthful of hair. "That must be them!" Natalie pushed him away and zipped to the door. Smiling wryly, Nick followed at a normal pace. He was in time to see Natalie open the door and drop a deep curtsey in front of Vachon. "Enter freely and of your own will, O' Master." She intoned breathily. Vachon rolled his eyes and made a wide detour around his troublesome fledgling. "Hello, Knight. I see you haven't been able to adjust her attitude any, huh?" "I wouldn't dream of trying. She has so few pleasures in life." "And tormenting me is one of them?" "Oh yeah, in a big way." "Swell. Well anyway, it's good to see you again. Here's a little something special." He handed Nick a bottle which Nick placed on the table next to the others as Tracy stepped up to give him a hug. "Oh Nick, I've missed you so much. Both of you." Her obvious joy lit her up from the inside like a candle and Nick felt himself smiling in unconscious response. He looked over at Vachon and saw the Spaniard regarding Tracy with a look he never thought he'd ever see on the face of a vampire. Vachon *loved* Tracy. Not as his creation or as a possession, but from the depths of his heart and even perhaps his soul. It showed in his face and his every movement and Nick marveled at it. He wondered why he had never been capable of such emotion when he had been a vampire. Had something been twisted out of him my LaCroix's cruel torments that might otherwise have allowed him to feel the things he saw shining from Vachon's dark, expressive eyes? A sharp nudge from Natalie's elbow brought him back to himself. There was someone else in the room, a woman with short dark hair and a wide, mischievous smile. "Jody?" He whispered in disbelief. "I convinced her to come tonight, Nick." Tracy grinned, almost bouncing with delight. "I hope you and Natalie don't mind." Nick felt a smile stretch across his face as he held out his hands and looked into Jody's bright eyes, unclouded now by any trace of her mortal illness. "Of course not. It's wonderful to see you again, Jody." He paused for a moment and looked down around her feet. "Uh, where's--?" "Perry?" Jody answered. "I figured the hotel might make a fuss, so I made him wait outside. Would it be all right if I called him in? I promise he'll behave." Nick glanced over a Nat, who shrugged. "Ahh, sure," he replied. "No problem." Jody walked over to the balcony and whistled. Seconds later a large golden shape soared into the room and bounded across the floor. Perry stopped when he saw Nick, cocking his head as he thoughtfully regarded the man who had tried to stake him. "Ah now, Perry," Nick said, holding out his hand. "No hard feelings, eh?" Perry's tail began to wag and his tongue lolled out in a wry retriever smile. All was forgiven, he told Nick with a cold, wet nudge and Nick grinned as he ruffled the dog's ears. Introductions over, the party could begin. Drinks were poured and the stories and experiences began to flow out of everyone like liquid from a bottle. Natalie told the story of her day in the trunk to an outraged Tracy while Vachon worked hard to keep a straight face and Nick attempted to defend himself, to little effect. Perry sat pressed against Jody's knees as she recalled the simple joy of being among friends again. She did not participate in the discussion much, but was happy just to let it wash over her. Vachon too, didn't talk much, letting Tracy tell the story of the last few weeks for the both of them. Natalie continued to address him as 'Master', just to see how much she could annoy him, but he felt her unspoken relief at his nearness. It was almost as if there was a thread tying them together and the distance between them had stretched it taut. Now there was only a sensation of comfortable awareness, secure and relaxed. It felt right to have her there, along with Tracy and even Nick. It was a strange feeling. He'd never considered himself much of a family man before, but maybe the experience of losing families --twice-- had finally impressed him with their importance. Nick sipped at his own glass of undiluted red wine and found himself watching Natalie as if she were someone he hadn't seen in a long time. There was a glow to her face and a sparkle in her eyes that had not been there for quite a while. The strain he had seen there this morning was gone as well. He wondered if the transformation was due to the proximity of her vampire master, or if she merely felt the relief of being among her own kind again. He, if anyone, knew how hard it was to try and live simultaneously in two very different worlds; fighting against every impulse in order to sustain an existence that was little more than a shadow of a life. Somehow, by the grace of God and the love of a woman, he had managed to pass through the shadow into the light, but the price had been high. He watched Natalie fill a brimming glass from one of the bottles on the table and take a deep swallow. His own throat ached at the sight and he clenched his jaw tightly. The price had been high indeed. The question now was how long they would both have to continue paying. End Chapter Nine ===================================================================== Chapter Ten: "Drink, as a delicious and rare wine, the enormity and intensity of fire." - C. Baudelaire Natalie felt something when the blood first touched her lips, but the urge to drink, as always swept aside any conscious hesitation. The thick liquid filled her mouth with its bright metallic sweetness and slid down her throat, burning a trail of fire as it passed. Soon every vein, artery and capillary thrummed with power and desire. And memories. Visions that were now as familiar to her as her own life flashed before her eyes. It felt as if she were back in that beautiful, terrifying, breathtaking moment as the blood was drawn from her while a flood of images poured in to fill the void. They were Nick's memories; endless moments of him reveling in the full strength and glory of his vampire nature. It was *his* blood that coursed through her, finally completing the link that had begun forming that night, filling her with the knowledge of all that he had been. And all he could be again. It would be so very easy. They could finally be together; without restraint, without fear, without holding anything back. Forever. "Natalie?" Tracy had seen Natalie close her eyes and grow very still. "Is there something wrong?" She jumped back instinctively as Natalie's eyes snapped open, burning bright red and her face twisted into a feral mask. "No!" She cried as Natalie lunged towards Nick, knocking him to the ground, too fast for Tracy to react. Vachon however, had felt the disturbing tremors through the bond he shared with Natalie and was able to pull her off of Nick before she could bury her fangs in his neck. Nick lay on the floor, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him by Natalie's ferocious attack. "Vachon," he wheezed. "What...?" "Get out." Vachon rasped as he desperately tried to restrain a wildly thrashing Natalie. "Tracy, get him out of here. Now!" Released from her paralysis, Tracy swept Nick up into her arms and zipped out through the balcony into the night. "No." Nick started to struggle. "I have to go back. Natalie would never hurt me. I have to see her. Let me go." Tracy was still developing her vampire strength and Nick's squirming was putting him at great risk of being dropped. "Nick," she commanded. "Look at me. Everything is going to be fine, but you need to calm down." He looked up at her and his eyes were so full of pain that all she wanted to do was make him forget what had happened. His heart sounded loud in her ears and she realized that she really could make him forget. Then she recalled that the same thing had been done to her and she shivered with revulsion. "You need to rest, Nick." She told him softly. "Just go to sleep and we'll work everything out tomorrow, okay?" "Okay." Nick murmured sleepily. He nestled his head against her shoulder trustingly and dropped into a quiet sleep. "Well," she murmured unhappily as she gazed down at her unconscious burden. "I guess I *can* whammy. Swell." ***** Tracy stood on the balcony, feeling weary in a way she hadn't known since being brought across. A tingle of awareness straightened her from her disconsolate slump and she breathed a small sigh of slight relief when she saw Jody land on the balcony, followed by Perry. "Where's Nick?" Jody asked, but Perry had already scented the air and with a concerned whine, jumped lightly through the window into the bedroom. Tracy poked her head in nervously, but Perry had lain himself along Nick's supine body, watching his face anxiously. "He's sleeping." Tracy replied, turning back to Jody. "Um, it's okay to leave Perry in there, right?" Jody nodded. "Perry my have the soul of a vampire, but he's still got the heart of a golden retriever. He never harms the helpless ones." Her voice dropped to a low whisper, as if only for herself. "That's *our* code." "Vachon sent you?" "Yes, he figured you'd come here." She looked away. "Natalie's in a bad way. He finally got her calmed down, but he can't leave her." "What happened?" Tracy asked with an edge of desperation in her voice. "They were alone together for more than a week. What could possibly have set her off like that?" Jody held out a dark green bottle. "Vachon thinks it was this. Careful," she cautioned as Tracy pulled out the cork to take a sniff. "It's potent stuff." Tracy felt her fangs drop and shoved the bottle away as she tried to subdue the immediate rise of the vampire in her. "Oh!" She exclaimed, blinking the gold from her eyes. "What on earth *is* it?" "Vampire blood." Jody replied, replacing the cork carefully. "Nick's vampire blood, is Vachon's guess." Tracy's jaw dropped in surprise. "B...but how? Where?" "A woman named Janette gave it to him. She said she was from Toronto. Presumably she knew Nick." "And she must have found out that he regained his mortality." Natalie whispered in horror. "She was trying to get one of us to... she gave Vachon that bottle on purpose!" Her grip on the railing tightened until the rusty metal began to deform. "Who is she?" "We don't know. Vachon never met her before and Natalie... well if she knows anything about it, she's in no condition to talk." She motioned towards the bedroom. "Hopefully we'll find out more when he wakes up." "Whoever she is," Tracy growled, releasing the twisted railing to pace the length of the balcony. "She's going to learn not to mess with my partner." Jody watched, thinking how much her old friend suddenly resembled an outraged lion. All that was missing was the lashing tail. Tracy froze in midstride and a blankness suffused her face. "Janette." She suddenly whispered. "The sister of Nicholas de Brabant. I remember. She was wanted in the Larouche murder. I wonder if it's the same one?" She stepped past Jody as if she'd forgotten her friend was there and regarded the sleeping figure on the bed thoughtfully. "He was protecting someone during that investigation. And going out on a limb to do it. But I trusted him, so I covered for him too. I wonder if I did the right thing? I wonder if we both did." Jody walked up and placed her hand on Tracy's shoulder. "You think you might know this Janette?" Tracy shook her head. "I never met her, but a witness saw her leaving the scene of a shooting. She was never brought in for questioning." Jody's eyebrows lifted. "Shooting? Vampires don't usually bother with guns and Vachon said that this Janette was definitely a vampire." "Oh he did, did he?" Tracy replied dryly. "Well," she motioned towards Nick. "There are always exceptions." "Did you ever actually see Nick use his gun?" Jody asked. Tracy frowned. "Y'know, I don't think I did. Oh sure, he drew it when the situation called for it, but he never fired." She snorted humorlessly. "In fact, I used deadly force several time when Nick... well he always seemed to be somewhere else." "And you called yourselves partners." Jody ribbed her gently. "If I remember our college days, you were the one who always split off from the rest of us, heading out on your own. You must have driven your captain absolutely nuts." Tracy bridled indignantly. "I did nothing of the... well maybe once or... okay, so Captain Reese did lecture me about keeping in touch with my partner, but everything always worked out." "Of course it did." Jody smiled sadly. "You had a vampire watching your back." Tracy opened her mouth to object and then she realized how right Jody probably was. She looked down at Nick's face, troubled even in sleep and wondered how many times he had saved her life, never letting her know about it. Never *able* to let her know about it. "Oh Nick," she said in a trembling voice. "We'll get through this. I promise." Jody put her arm around her friend's shaking shoulders and pulled her close. "You're damn right we will." She whispered with quiet ferocity into Tracy's ear. End Chapter Ten ===================================================================== Chapter Eleven: "Within our minds presides a secret chill, even when the flame is burning in our blood." - N. Ogarev The images cascaded through Natalie's mind even as Nick's fiery vampire blood coursed through her veins. Faces merged with names and the flavor associated with each: Alexandra: hearty, robust but little more than a moment's lusty pleasure. Amalia: light, delicious, fervent. Each drop savored more for its eager pliancy than for any depth or richness. Alyssa: Bright and sparkling like sunlight on water. But still bittersweet, laced with the pain of love and its loss. Her face, of all the multitudes, stood out with the greatest clarity. But there were others who appeared again and again, unfettered by the limitations imposed by mortality: Francesca; whose blood was enriched by the knowledge gleaned from countless accomplished victims. Erica; an actress of no small talent herself, she gave of herself with such glorious abandon that it seemed she might one day have nothing left. And of course, there was Janette. She who was there at the very beginning and who shone above all the rest like a constant star. Her flavor and texture was wound all through his memories like a dark, complex tapestry; the taste of her blood on his lips, the touch of her thoughts on his, the feel of her teeth on his skin. They were entwined with one another, inseparable, yet never completely joined. There was one who stood between them, binding them together even as he held them apart. LaCroix. The memory of his blood was etched into Nick's being as if by acid. It had no taste or flavor, it simply *was* LaCroix. Cold, stark, implacable. Overwhelming as the sea itself; as deep and as unfathomable, it burned its way into the soul, layer by layer, baring every secret thought and private dream until there was nothing left but what he chose to give. He was here, somewhere nearby. Natalie could feel his presence like a hot brand drawn across raw nerve ending. There was a darkness to the visions now, encouraged and incited by the touch of LaCroix's mind in hers. She fought to rid herself of him, but she was too weak and too enthralled by the allure of watching Nick exult in all his immortal glory. "Impressive, wasn't he?" The cool voice threaded its way into her semiconscious mind. "There was a time when he would do anything to enhance the thrill of the kill. He would track his prey like a hound, teasing and playing with it until the smell of fear overwhelmed the senses and he put an end to the chase, drinking down the pure essence of terror along with the blood. "He did the same with lust, with hatred and most assiduously with love. He created the sensations in another and took them into himself, experiencing all the passions of mortality in a way that mortals themselves can never do. Ahhhh, but he was magnificent. He was my best and greatest creation. To see him feed was like watching one of the great masters applying paint to a canvas. In him, the acts of creation and destruction were as one. But you know this, for you have seen it, felt it for yourself." "Yes." Natalie heard herself choke out a reply. "You know what it is to be counted among the deathless ones, yet you deny the same grace to the one whom you profess to love. You see how he is now; small, weak, diminished. The great, cold fire that burned within him has been extinguished along with your one chance for happiness. "You would be with one another; all your work has been towards the goal of bringing him into your world so that you could at least be together. And you succeeded. Against all possibility, you brought him back over. Congratulations. "But as with any great victory, there is a price to be paid. The price for Nick's mortality was your own. And so we are face with the same problem. Like Pyramus and Thisbe, you have traded one side of the wall for the other, but the division remains. "You could, of course, continue your search for a cure, perhaps there are other ways, other methods that might allow you to regain your mortality. After all, Janette has done it, Nick has done it. Perhaps it is true that the third time is the charm. But for how long are you willing to search, doctor? Before, it was your clock ticking away the hours, the years filled with failure after failure. Now it's Nick's turn. How much time does he have? Ten years? Fifteen? Twenty? And lest we forget how dangerous a place the world is. Accidents will and very often do happen. "If Nicholas should succumb to the mortal gods of fate and time, what will your eternity be like then? How will you justify your decision to leave him his humanity when all you have of him are your indelible memories of the few, brief moments that you shared together? Forever is a long time to endure such bitter loneliness, my dear Natalie. Believe me, I know. Perhaps you would care for a taste?" A wave of icy longing crashed over her, pounding all that was left of Natalie Lambert into a thousand shards of pain. All her fragile beliefs and tenuous hopes swirled up and were stripped away by the flood of anguish, leaving her an empty, barren shell. From within the dark, cold cavern where her soul had once resided, a great cry welled up, shrieking madly for the one creature who might be able to fill the raw, gaping void. "Nicholas!" Natalie lunged forward, eyes blazing, fangs extended, but Vachon was there, holding her down with gentle, but undeniable strength. The hunger blazing through her was palpable and without hesitation, he pressed his own pale, blue-veined flesh against her searching lips. With a snarl that sounded more like a sob, she tore into him, drinking his blood in great, desperate gulps. It was not his blood that she craved, but it was something; anything to fill the yawning void. He held her close, stroking her hair away from her forehead as he murmured soft, meaningless words of comfort drawn from every language he had ever encountered. She clung to him, finding his unwavering solidity as necessary as his blood. Slowly, so very slowly, she felt the fever raging within her begin to subside beneath the cooling taste of his blood and the calming touch of his hand. She raised her burning eyes to his face and drank deeply of the quiet acceptance that she saw there until she released him with a deep sigh. Vachon watched her eyes as the red glow faded into gold, which slowly gave way to their natural color just before her lids dropped down and she drifted into an exhausted sleep. He stayed curled around her for a long while, assuring himself that she was resting quietly before carefully easing himself away. He staggered to his feet and barely managed to catch himself before he crashed into the nightstand. Bracing himself against the wall with a trembling arm, he managed to stumble into the next room where he knocked over several bottles before managing to grab one and bring it to his lips. At that point, he allowed himself to slide gracelessly to the floor, where he continued to drink with steady concentration until the bottle was empty. He sat hunched over the bottle cradled loosely into his hands until a vague warning caused him to glance at the heavily curtained windows. The sun was coming up. With a tired groan, he dragged himself to his feet, scooped up several unopened bottles and caromed back into the bedroom. Depositing the bottles onto the nightstand with exaggerated care, he slid onto the bed beside Natalie and stretched out. He watched her pale, lifeless features for any sign of change until he could defy his own exhaustion no longer and allowed his eyes to close. End Chapter Eleven ===================================================================== Chapter Twelve: "Will we burn in heaven like we do down here?" - Sarah MacLachlan A heavy weight pressed against his leg and he reached down to encounter a furry muzzle with his hand. Nick thought. His eyes flickered open and in the gloom of the tightly shuttered room, he realized that he was not in any place that he recognized. Perry lay stretched along his side, motionless and apparently devoid of life. Nick eased himself gingerly off the bed, unwilling to risk disturbing the sleeping carouche. He knew that vampires rudely awakened tended to bite first and apologize later. Though by then the apology was largely superfluous. He scraped his fingers through his tousled curls and yawned, grimacing at the sour film coating the inside of his mouth. He wondered what had occurred during the night to cause him to go to bed fully dressed and without brushing his teeth. The small rituals of his newfound humanity were comforts that he had come to treasure and he would not have discarded them lightly, no matter ho much he'd had to drink. Drink. A tall green bottle rested in the center of a round table and though Nick had seen its like any number of times, something about this particular bottle caught his attention. He reached over and picked it up, brushing away the faint film of dust that obscured the yellowed label. The writing was ornate and faded, illegible to anyone who was not familiar with the language it was written in and the hand that had inscribed it. Nick, as it so happened, was intimately acquainted with both. "You smell of honey, of desire, You smell of air the noon makes shiver, You smell of earth and the river, You smell of love, you smell of fire."* "As I remember the scent of thee, Remember thou, the taste of me. NdB" NdB--Nicholas de Brabant. The handwriting was his, as were the contents of the bottle. More than a century ago, during one of his many futile attempts to escape the increasingly unbearable company of LaCroix, Nick had preserved a quantity of his own blood and left it for the one who forever refused to choose between her master and her lover. "Janette." He whispered and the events of the night before crashed over him with the force of a tsunami. He collapsed back against the wall as all the air in his lungs escaped past his lips in a wrenching sob. He lost the ability to draw breath and slid down the floor, rocking in tight, wordless distress. "Oh God!" He finally managed to croak, repeating that one phrase over and over again, until the steady litany allowed him to regain control over his breathing. But nothing could give him control over the chain of images repeating themselves endlessly in his mind: Natalie picking up a bottle and pour the dark liquid into a glass. Her lips touching the viscous surface, red on red. The rhythmic motion of her throat as she closed her eyes and drank deeply. The sudden stillness of her features as the poison that was his blood raced through her system, infecting every portion of her with intimate knowledge of his vampiric soul. The transformation of her sweet features into a snarling mask of ravening lust. Lust for him. His blood. His humanity. With a single taste of what he had once been, Natalie's one consuming desire would be to return him to that state. She would not, *could not* rest until it was accomplished. "Janette," he repeated in a pained whisper. "Why?" But he knew why. He remembered what he had done to her and now she was only trying to repay him in kind. <'La meilleur revanche c'est la revenche'>, he had once heard her say, in reference to some much older instance and he could not fault the cold symmetry of her logic. Not that there was the least molecule of comfort in this thought. With the painful slowness of a man a mere fraction of his true chronological age, Nick dragged himself to his feet and made his way towards the door. In the living room he found Tracy and Jody curled around one another in a welter of sofa cushions. There was such tender concern in their postures that even Nick's heart, numbed and bruised as it was, felt a tiny flicker of pleasure in the sight. For some, the burden of immortality was an easy weight to bear, at least compared to the alternative. But he no longer had any illusions about his own ability to hold up under such a load. He would pick it up again, for he had no choice and this time, it would crush him. But first he needed to see someone. To beg her forgiveness and see if she would allow him to unburden his soul. While he still had one. * R. de Gourmont End Chapter Twelve ===================================================================== Chapter Thirteen: "You have long since ceased to love, as our hot blood can love, the taste you have forgotten, of a love that burns like fire and like fire lays waste." - A. Blok The building was still there, much as he remembered it from a century ago, but he had never seen it as he did now. The late sunshine reflected from the pale walls with blinding clarity, throwing the ornate curls of the black metal balcony into sharp relief. He paused at the foot of the steps, marveling anew at the details brought to a world washed with sunlight. There was so much he saw now that had been passed over by the indifferent gaze of an inconstant moon and the impassive stars. Beneath his breastbone, he could already feel the ache that would arise from the loss of this bright, vivid world. The first time, he could not truly appreciate the magnitude of the sacrifice, but now the prospect was very nearly unbearable. Bowing his head wearily, he made his way up the steps. There was a newer deadbolt device above the antique doorknob, but Nick pulled out a large ring of turn-of-the-century keys, selected one without hesitation and slid it into the keyhole. It turned easily and the door swung open, revealing a lightless hall. Having learned the lesson of his mortal limitations in the dark recesses of the Raven, Nick turned on his flashlight and stepped inside. Washing the beam across the wall, he found a switch and turned on the lights. Ignoring the rich treasures of a bygone era lining the hallway, he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. On the landing he paused, counting doors in his mind before choosing one. He moved to turn the knob, hesitated and then raised his fist to knock. The door opened without his touching it and he found himself facing Janette. She stood bracketed by candlelight, holding a burning taper in one hand. "Why Nichola," she smiled, revealing her dimples. "What an unexpected pleasure. You still have the key, then? How fortunate that you never throw anything away. Do come in." He stood frozen, drinking in the flawless perfection of his immortal beloved. Her raven tresses were piled high on her head, a few errant curls snaking their way down the pale marble column of her slender neck. The candles cast a false gilding across her smooth white skin and slid in gold-edged shadows among the snowy folds of her satin sheath. Nick heard himself thinking. She had worn white on that first night, though. A soft billowing shift that by turns hid and revealed the lush womanly treasures beneath. Centuries later, she was just as he remembered--when she had drawn him into her cool exotic embrace. And he was just as he had been then; with his mouth dry, his knees quaking and the pounding of his heart like thunder in his ears. That was the night everything had begun, when the pieces had been set upon the board. Eight hundred years later, the tables had been turned. Janette had regained her mortality, proving to him that his greatest dream was indeed possible. And then fate used her to show how easily it could all be taken away. The dark queen lay dying in her knight's arms, bleeding out a thousand years of life in a few short minutes, pleading for him to have the strength to let her go. LaCroix named love the greatest weakness and once again, Nick let it rule him. His Janette could not die, would never die. The knight disobeyed his queen's final command and recreated her in his own image. But Nick had come to see himself as a monster. What then, did that make her? How could he have visited his own horror upon the one creature he loved above all others? Nick looked at Janette, losing himself in the dark azure depths of her eyes and he saw only beauty. He knew then that he would do the same thing again, there had never been a choice. He could only acknowledge his guilt and accept the cost of his disobedience. "Janette." He whispered and stepped into the room. She drifted past him, lighting the few remaining candles around the large, heavily curtained bed before blowing out the taper and coming to face him. She regarded him critically, tilting her head first one way and another as she circled. Then she began to touch him; a sweat-damp curl, a sunburned cheek, the flutter of a pulse at his neck, the beat of his heart through his shirt. "I remember you like this, ," she murmured softly. "The touch of the sun fresh on your skin, the warmth of it coursing through your veins. How I longed for you then." He felt the sharp nip of her teeth on the skin beneath his jaw and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable clamp of her mouth upon his throat. "Oh no," she laughed softly as she draped her arms around his shoulders and curled her fingers through his hair. "Not so quickly as all that." Blinking in confusion, he looked down and saw the gold in her eyes and the flash of fangs in her smile. "Why not?" He asked roughly. With a smile as an answer, she rose up on her toes and pressed her full, cold lips against his feverish ones. He held back at first, but as her mouth softened and drew warmth from him, all the ancient desire he had felt for her, first as mortal, then as vampire, flooded back. He crushed her to him, running his hands along the sweet flawless skin and pulling the combs from her hair until it cascaded down her back like a night without moon or stars. He was sliding the satin straps from her shoulders when she gripped him around the neck and flung him with rough force onto the bed. While he lay stunned, trying to draw a breath past his bruised throat, she calmly gathered up her hair and restored the pins. ", you forced your will upon me once. You shall not do so again. Nor shall I be the one to return the favor." "Janette," he was finally able to croak. "Why?" In a flash she was by his side, leaning over him with a predator's fierce glare. "Why do I not bring you across? Perform the same service for you as you did me?" He nodded mutely and she smiled mirthlessly. "Oh Nichola, how tightly would you have me bind myself to you? Would you be brother, lover, father *and* son to me? Oh no, this is the bed you have made for yourself, but I will no longer lie in it with you." She stepped away and lifted a dark cloak from a hook behind the door. "That is a privilege I leave for another." She swirled the cloak around her shoulders and pulled a key from the pocket. "Janette!" Nick called out as she opened the door. "Wait!" She paused somewhat reluctantly. "For what I did, I... I am so sorry. Please, will you forgive me?" She gazed at him, all the pains and hurts and wounds they had inflicted upon one another across eight centuries flickering behind her eyes. "Of course I forgive you, Nichola." She told him softly. "You did but what your nature compelled. As do I. Good-bye, my love. Perhaps we will meet again, some dark and moonless night." The door closed and the lock clicked shut behind her. With nothing else for him to do, he tried the door and the windows, but he could not leave without doing serious damage to both himself and the room. Escape would only postpone the inevitable anyway, so he merely tore the thick draperies from the window and bathed in the last of the sun's light as it slipped below the horizon. The moon, bright with its borrowed light had just begun to traverse the sky when Nick heard the key in the lock. He gripped the edge of the windowsill with tight fingers and then turned around slowly. A dark shape stood silhouetted in the doorway, the gold of its eyes flaring bright scarlet as it caught hold of his scent. A deep growling purr filled the room as the vampire glided forward within reach of the candlelight. "Natalie." Nick whispered hoarsely. And with a motion quicker than thought, she lunged towards him. End Chapter Thirteen ===================================================================== Chapter Fourteen: "Hearts with equal love combined, kindle never-dying fires." - T. Carew Not long after the last rays of the sun had disappeared, LaCroix had come for her. Weak, groggy and disoriented, Natalie put up little resistance. Vachon did better, but even at full strength, he would have been no match for the ancient vampire. The confrontation was short, brutal and completely one-sided. LaCroix did not destroy the young Spaniard, who fought in the admirable, if futile defense of his fledgling. He respected the boy's attitude and left him alive, though thoroughly incapacitated. In the end, Natalie found herself bundled up in a blanket like an obstreperous feline and carried out into the night. Some unmeasured time later, she was placed on her feet, the blanket whisked away. She blinked into the focus the surface of a closed door a few inches from her nose. A heartbeat on the other side of the door called out to her and a sweet, familiar scent caused her whole body to quiver. There was no moment of indecision, no choice to be made. She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. He stood before the window with his back to her, the muscles between his shoulders pressed into sharp relief against the fabric of his shirt as he gripped the frame of the window with tightly curled fingers. He turned with inevitable slowness and her breath rippled in her throat as the candlelight washed across the broad planes of his cheeks and the strong curves of his mouth with loving precision. The moonlight from the window shimmered in a silver-gilt nimbus around his head and the reflection from a single candle created the illusion of a fire smoldering behind his troubled blue eyes. Nicholas; an angel bereft of wings, fallen to earth and seeking redemption. Nicholas; a demonic drinker of blood and exultant despoiler of innocence. Her Nicholas. Here. Waiting for her. The undeniable need she felt for him surged forth and she stepped into the circle of candlelight. "Natalie." Nick whispered hoarsely. And with a motion quicker than thought, she lunged towards him. She almost whimpered with relief as she crushed his warmth against her. She wanted to surround, consume and envelope him completely. She inhaled his scent, brushing her lips and tongue along his skin, exulting in the taste and feel of him. The anticipation was so glorious in its pain, she wanted to draw it out, to bring her fever to its ultimate spike before granting herself the luxurious release of the cure. She ravished him, clawing aside clothing when it blocked her progress, rubbing herself against his bare flesh as if she were trying to force her way inside. From somewhere far away, she felt his hands in her hair, his lips on her skin as he began to answer her hunger with his own. "Yes," she heard him rasp hoarsely. "If it must be, let it be this way." With a strength not borne of his mortality, he wrenched her head back so that he could stare full into her face. He gazed unflinchingly into the twin furnaces of her eyes and drank hungrily of the unreasoning desire that deformed her soft mouth into a bestial snarl. "Let me love you," he growled fiercely, capturing her lips between his own teeth with gentle, bloodless bites. "The way I wanted to from the first. The way I should have at the last. Let me be with you as the man I am for one final eternity." The passion blazing in his blue eyes burned through the red-filled haze surrounding her, allowing his words to filter past the incoherent need to bury her fangs into his throat. "Yes," she panted with difficulty. "Your blood is not enough. I need... I need..." He engulfed her mouth with his own, silencing her and he felt his feet leave the ground as she levitated them both onto the great, raised bed. Eight centuries is a long time to refrain from making love below the neck. Nick had forgotten what it was like to love a woman--his fragile mortal memories of the act had been buried beneath the new sensation of hot blood rushing to provide him with the raw, undiluted emotions of his victims. He had forgotten the sharing involved in physical intimacy, the concern for another's pleasure and the delight in providing it. Vampirism is one-sided, selfish, done only to satiate one's own never-ending hunger. , Nick marveled, astonished by the sudden clarity of his own thoughts at this tenderest of moments. Gazing with heartfelt love and acceptance into Natalie's wide, disbelieving eyes, he lowered his neck to her mouth, offering her everything he was without reservation. End Chapter Fourteen ===================================================================== Chapter Fifteen: "Alone I'll fight for thee, I'll fall for thee alone, and be my blood a brand to fire cold hearts." - G. Leopardi The world was one great ache and he was at the very center of it. Vachon remembered feeling this badly only once before--when the Inca had dug him up and resuscitated him after Divia's murderous attack. . The mere thought of that twisted devil-child sent shudders running through him and he moaned painfully. "Shhh , try not to move." A soft voice cautioned him gently. "You are in a rather precarious position. Ah, LaCroix," the voice muttered. "Must you always express yourself quite so emphatically? Hold on, , this may hurt a bit." was the first word that came into Vachon's mind, once the raw, blazing agony at the center of his chest had diminished enough for coherent thought. By comparison, he barely felt the slight sting at his wrist until the sudden inflow of strong, vampire blood made him aware that someone was feeding him. His eyes flickered open and he focused on his benefactor with difficulty. "Janette?" He whispered past dry, cracked lips. "." She answered pleasantly. "I am so glad you remember me." "How could I forget?" He replied with more strength as the smooth rush of her blood initiated the healing process. He looked down at his chest where a large, nasty-looking wound was closing rapidly. Glancing up at the wall, he regarded the enormous bloodstain and jagged hole in the plaster with raised eyebrows. "Me?" He inquired with some awe. "You." She agreed. "Pinned to the wall ." She held up a large metal bar with a twisted, blood-covered end. "I thought it best to take this out. I hope you don't mind." "No, not at all, thanks." He looked at the slender white arm she held pressed against his own. "Thanks a lot." He repeated, moving his eyes to her face to see if she realized that she was giving him more than just her blood. A flood of dark, haunted memories was streaming through the link as well. She knew. Her chin was tilted up in proud defiance, but he could see the shadow behind her bravado as she waited for him to denounce her, turn away in rejection and disgust for what she had done to his fledgling and to Nick. He did no such thing. Instead, he brushed a thumb gently across her cheek. "This was your choice for him?" He asked quietly, wanting to be sure he understood. She nodded stiffly, her brittle poise somewhat shaken by his calm acceptance. "It was my right. I had sworn never to let any man force his will upon me again. Nick took away my right to choose. So have I done for him." "And Natalie?" Now Janette looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "It will be better this way. She may have some chance at happiness, at least." "For awhile, anyway." He felt her sorrow seeping into him. "Isn't that all we ever have?" She whispered. "All we may expect?" He shook his head in disagreement. "You can think that if you want, though it sounds like a pretty sad way to spend eternity. I'm hoping to do better." "Hope." The word sounded bitter on her tongue. "An overvalued commodity. You would do better to trade it in for something of a more practical nature, before you come to realize its true cost." The cut on his wrist had healed, ending the flow of her emotions, so he carefully leaned forward and turned her face towards him. "And what have you traded yours for, ?" "Endurance." She whispered, touching the tips of her fingers to his lips. "." And with a swift kiss, she was gone. Vachon closed his eyes and sighed, overwhelmed by both his physical weakness and the confusing swirl of images and emotions Janette had left in her wake. , he thought to himself. . He winced as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. . "I wish I could help you, pobrecita," he whispered aloud to no one in particular. "But I'm not in a position to do much of anything for anyone. Including myself." He stared longingly at a half-empty bottle lying on the floor across the room. . He gauged the distance, trying to measure it against his own feeble strength. "All right, Natalie," he flopped onto his stomach with a painful grunt and began the agonized crawl across the carpet. "Hang in there. Just remember what happens when a pawn manages to cross the entire board." His limbs were all but useless and progress was piteously slow, but eventually he was able to reach out a trembling hand and pull the bottle in. He paused to roll over and catch his breath and with some difficulty, he raised the bottle in a kind of salute. "She becomes a queen." And he drank. End Chapter Fifteen ===================================================================== Chapter Sixteen: "With trembling breath she blows, till in a cheerful blaze the flames arose." - Ovid Vachon was on his feet, tipping all the remaining bottles over his mouth, hoping for a few last drops, when Perry burst in through the balcony doors, followed quickly by Jody and Tracy. "Vachon!" Tracy yelled. "Nick's gone! Perry managed to track him as far as the park, but he must've gotten into a cab or something." She stopped abruptly when she was the condition of the room. "Omigosh! What happened? Where's Natalie?" She finally took a good look at Vachon and her eyes flared with bright yellow anger as she flew to his side. "Who did this to you?" She hissed. "That woman? Janette? I'll tear her heart out for this!" "No, not Janette." Vachon explained wearily. "LaCroix. He took Natalie. I think he has Nick too." "Where?" Tracy demanded. "Natalie will kill Nick. Or worse. We've got to get to them before it's too late!" Jody had been standing quietly in the doorway, taking in the damage with stunned disbelief. "Tracy," she remarked with trepidation. "You want to go after the guy who did *this*? Are you seeing the same thing I'm seeing?" Tracy's eyes flicked unwillingly from the ragged tear in Vachon's shirt to the bloody metal pole on the floor and her skin seemed to blanch even paler. "We've got to do something," she cried in distress. "We can't just sit around and let this happen. There's three of us, plus Perry. Don't superior numbers count for something?" "Sure they do, Trace," Vachon grated. "But the numbers are all on LaCroix's side. Nearly two thousand of them." He found an unbroken chair and sat down with a sigh. "Age is what counts with vampires. Strength increases exponentially. Besides, I can barely walk, let alone fly right now and I'm not about to let you go against him alone." Tracy's eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. "Jody," she snapped briskly. "Go back to the apartment and bring back every bottle of blood you can find." "My place is closer, I'll go there." Jody replied. "Don't worry," she smiled thinly at Vachon's skeptical expression. "It's human. Perry and I do pet therapy at the hospital, so I stock up on their discards whenever I go. C'mon Perry, let's go home!" The curtains billowed at their rapid departure. "Pet therapy?" Vachon blinked in tired confusion. "I'll explain later." Tracy replied, pushing up her sleeve and holding her arm under his nose. "Dig in, mister." ***** Vachon had a vague sense of Nick's location from Janette's memories, but he also had the card she had given him along with the bottle of Nick's vampire blood. When the four landed on the roof indicated by the address, Vachon knew they had found the place. He reached out, trying to locate Natalie through their connection, but he could not sense anything. He suspected that Nick's powerful vampire blood had reasserted itself, overwhelming the connection with his fledgling. Unfortunately if he was unable to sense Natalie, they might have to search the building room by room. Perry's vampire-enhanced canine senses however, were unhindered by such limitations and he trotted along the edge of the roof until he stopped and looked up at Jody with his tail wagging. I think Perry's got 'em." Jody whispered. "C'mon Perry, show us where." The dog dived eagerly over the side of the building and hovered outside a second-floor window, whining softly. "I'd better go first." Vachon directed quietly as he gripped the window with his fingers. "There's no telling what we'll find inside." He snapped the lock and shoved the window open. Perry had not been paying attention, though and before Vachon could prevent it, he was shoved aside by a large mound of eager retriever. He lunged for the dog, but only succeeded in falling gracelessly to the floor. Whining happily, Perry bounded across the room and flung himself onto the large bed. Outside, Tracy and Jody heard yells and shrieks and looked at one another with alarm. They both flew for the window at the same instant and managed to thoroughly wedge themselves halfway in and halfway out. From the floor, Vachon had a poor view of the seething activity on the bed. He caught a few glimpses of pale, bare skin, but these were greatly obscured by Perry's furry hindquarters and vigorously wagging tail. "Off! Off you silly beast!" Vachon recognized Natalie's voice and struggled to his knees, realizing how desperately weak he still felt. Then he heard a clear, delighted laugh that could only have come from Nick, but he had never heard the detective laugh before. Not like this; so warm and full of joy. He pushed himself to his feet and was immediately buried beneath a tangle of Tracy and Jody as they finally popped free of the window. "Perry!" Jody gasped from her position on the floor beneath Tracy's knees. "Come here boy!" Perry snuffled the occupants of the bed one final time before jumping down to lend his own brand of aid to his other friends. Finally rolling free of the pile, Vachon pulled himself up using one of the curtains hanging from the bed. Clutching the thick tapestry for support, he gaped at the sight of a bare-chested Nick grinning at him hugely and a very flustered, very rumpled Natalie trying to maintain her modesty behind an inconveniently twisted sheet. Nick's heartbeat was the first thing he checked. Still there, sounding perfectly normal and surprisingly relaxed. Then he focused on Natalie. Nothing, she was still a vampire. He peered at Nick's throat, looking for any tell-tale punctures or bloodstains. He saw none. Nothing on the visible portions of Nick's body, either. He closed his eyes and tried to sense Natalie. He felt her all right, but only as he would any other vampire. The link between them was gone as if it had never existed. There was something else though, like an electrical current, flowing between Nick and herself. He thought with astonishment. End Chapter Sixteen ===================================================================== Chapter Seventeen: "Thou--this flame of yesterday--burn on, forlorn, immortal, and alone." - Lucretius "Nat!" Panted Tracy, crawling towards the bed as Jody physically restrained an overexcited Perry. "Don't do it! We'll find some way to get through this, I promise!" "I'm afraid it's a little late for that," Nick answered. "But we appreciate the thought." Tracy gained her feet and Vachon watched her jaw drop, wondering with idle curiosity if he looked as silly as she did. He was about to voice some of his confusion when the door to the room swung open and LaCroix stepped inside. As one, the younger vampires flowed together to form a wall between LaCroix and the bed. On the bed itself, Nick tried to assume a protective posture in front of Natalie, while she attempted to do the same for him. LaCroix simply stood there, observing those aligned against him until the room fell completely silent, except for a faint rumble emerging from Perry's throat. His icy blue gaze centered on the dog, whereupon the growl shifted into a yawn of nervous complaint. "Good boy." LaCroix spoke in a harsh drawl. He moved his attention to Tracy and smiled slightly. "I remember you." "And I remember you." Tracy replied tightly, linking this man's face and voice with the void that had existed in her mind concerning the death of Vachon. "Now." He nodded agreeably and his eyes flicked over to Vachon, lingering for a thoughtful moment on the torn and bloody shirt. "You're looking... better." Vachon's eyes narrowed angrily. "Yeah," he answered roughly. "Thanks for your concern." "Do not thank me," LaCroix retorted coolly. "It was merely an observation. From this and other reported incidents, it appears that you are rather difficult to dispose of. For any appreciable length of time, anyway." There was a lulling quality to his voice that made it difficult to concentrate on anything other than his words. He took a few steps forward, but Vachon seemed immune to the languorous spell and blocked his way. "You weren't trying to kill me." LaCroix stopped, eyeing the slightly built Spaniard from his own imposing height. "No, of course not. If I wanted you dead, you would be... dead." He attempted to move forward, but Vachon anticipated him. A faint line appeared between the pale eyebrows. "There is, however, no guarantee that I will not change my mind. Let me pass." Vachon felt the extent of his weakened state keenly, but he tightened his jaw and shook his head. "No." With a snap and a growl too quick to follow, Vachon found himself suspended a few inches above LaCroix's twisted features. "Don't try my patience, boy!" The ancient vampire snarled. "LaCroix," a deep voice insisted softly. "Let him go." Nick, clad only in a pair of trousers, stepped out from the other side of the bed. Natalie followed, Nick's shirt hanging halfway down her thighs. LaCroix tossed Vachon aside with negligent ease towards Tracy and Jody, who moved together to break his fall. The tall vampire glided forward to within an arm's distance of Nick, his eyes locked on his erstwhile child's calm blue gaze. After a long, still moment, his pale eyes flickered away with some indication of discomfort. "You have the smell of the grave about you, Nicholas." "And you have the smell of the slaughter house about you." Nick answered back, raising a hand to forestall a meaningless exchange of empty insults. "Enough, LaCroix. What do you want here?" "I? Why, what I've always wanted. You, Nicholas. Safe and secure beneath my wing." "I am no longer any creature of yours, LaCroix. You renounced all claim on me when I last came to you for help, remember?" "Oh yes, when you were searching high and low for your lost lady love." He examined Natalie appreciatively. "Well, you appear to have found her. I'm so happy for you." He appeared to note their dishabille for the first time. "Might I ask if congratulations are in order?" Natalie pressed closer against Nick, who put an arm around her. "We are... together." Nick looked into Natalie's eyes, caught for a moment within his own wonder before turning back to LaCroix. "Your plan did not work. The vampire blood Natalie drank completed the formation of the link between us that began when I drained her. But since I am mortal, there was no vampiric essence in me to bond with hers. Instead, she bonded with my humanity." LaCroix had frozen as straight and pale as a pillar of salt. "What are you saying?" He breathed harshly. Natalie answered for them both, gazing into the clear bright face of her lover, with his joy shining from her face as the moon reflects the light of the sun. "We share a soul. I don't need to drink blood from a living person to experience human emotions. All that Nick feels, I can feel." "Natalie gave me mortality at the expense of her own." Nick said with a smile that was only for her. "I never thought I could repay her for that... but now--" "--Now we both know what it is to be human..." "...And to be vampire." "Ridiculous!" Sneered LaCroix. "You are either one thing or the other. You cannot be both!" Natalie shrugged out from under Nick's arm and approached LaCroix fearlessly. "That would be true," she explained. "If vampirism was a simple physical condition. But it isn't." She took LaCroix's cold hand in her own and placed it against her chest. "My heart does not beat, my core temperature does not rise above seventy degrees. If I go out into the sun, my blood will boil, my flesh scorch. Physically, I am a vampire." She smiled at Nick. "But we have learned that some aspect of vampirism is transferable, a spiritual essence that is passed from Master to Fledgling." She reached out her hand and Nick took it. "Here," she told LaCroix, moving his hand to touch their joined ones. "What do you feel?" LaCroix pulled his eyebrows together in concentration and then snatched his hand back as if burned. "No!" He hissed in denial. "It is impossible." "Maybe so," Nick shrugged. "But you cannot deny that it has happened." "It can be remedied." LaCroix growled menacingly. "By who?" Nick challenged. "By you?" He shook his head. "If that had been your plan, you'd have done it long before now. But you knew what would happen, didn't you?" LaCroix refused to meet his eyes, concentrating instead on the guttering struggle of the last candle to remain alight. "You would not be able to call me back." Nick continued mercilessly, watching as LaCroix seemed to flinch. "You no longer hold my leash. If you freed me from this mortal coil, my soul would fly so far, so fast that you could never catch it. Not this time. That is why you wanted Natalie to be the one. Hers was the one voice I might listen to, hers the embrace I would be willing to return to. "But not yours. Never yours." "Enough!" Roared LaCroix. "Enough." He repeated more softly, regarding the mismatched pair before him dispassionately. "You have made your point, Nicholas. And..." he observed the other occupants of the room. "...your choice. So be it." There was a rush of air and he vanished through the open window. End Chapter Seventeen ===================================================================== Chapter Eighteen: "We must pass like smoke or live within the spirit's fire; for we can no more than smoke unto the flame return." - G. Russell A collective breath was released when LaCroix left, though for several moments no one seemed ready to believe that nothing more was going to happen, that it was all over. Tracy was the first, glancing over at Natalie with a wide smile seemingly intent on spreading itself across her face. Natalie pursed her own lips together, but her eyes were dancing and she eventually surrendered by laughing and throwing her arms open. "Oh gosh!" Tracy exclaimed from within Natalie's embrace. "You *do* feel different. Brighter... shinier, in a way." She blinked away the pink tears pricking behind her eyes. "You feel so happy." Tracy whispered. "I am happy." Natalie told her. "Happier than I can remember ever being before." "Well Knight," Vachon approached Nick with an outstretched hand. "I guess she really is your problem now." His grin was as sudden as sunlight from behind a cloud. "Can't say I'm all that broken up about it." Nick returned the grin and shook the proffered hand heartily. "Better watch how loud you say things like that." He warned. "She's still got sharp ears and teeth to match." "You'd better believe it," Natalie purred menacingly into Vachon's ear, causing him to jump in surprise. Natalie grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him towards her snarling face until his eyes began to cross, trying to keep her in focus. Then to his immense surprise and guilty pleasure, she kissed him. Thoroughly. With a sigh, she eased away, resting her head against his chest for a brief, comforting moment. "Thanks," she murmured. "For everything." Nick cleared his throat politely and she glided back under his arm, nestling close. "Thank you all," Nick told everyone warmly. "There will be time to try and repay you for everything you've done. But for the moment... ah..." He eyed the open window suggestively as he cradled Natalie with increasing tenderness. "Hunh?" Tracy blurted out as Jody jogged her elbow. "What's the rush? It's nowhere near dawn." Vachon rolled his eyes and stepped over to whisper something in her ear. If she could have blushed, she would have. "Oh." She remarked sheepishly. "Right. Sure. Yeah. We've uh... got to be going now." "Yeah," Vachon added. "We should probably try to do something about your hotel room before the maid sees it and calls the police in hysterics." "Vachon." Nick called out as he flipped something to the Spaniard. "Use whatever you need." "Oh wow!" Tracy exclaimed, snatching Nick's credit card out of Vachon's hands. "Platinum! C'mon Jody, we're going shopping!" And she pulled her friend out the window, Perry at their heels. Vachon cast a long-suffering look over his shoulder and followed. "Poor Vachon." Natalie laughed. "Poor Vachon, indeed." Nick scoffed. "I saw that kiss you planted on him." "What? That kiss?" Natalie replied with astonished innocence. "Why that was a simple little friendly thank you kiss. It wasn't a real kiss at all." "Oh it wasn't, huh?" Nick responded with skepticism, pushing her backwards towards the bed. "Then I for one would like to see what you think of as a *real* kiss." "You would, would you?" Natalie taunted him. "Are you sure you can handle it, Mister tall, blond and mortal?" He lifted her onto the bed as if she weighed no more than thistledown. "Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. We're linked now, remember? Whatever I feel, you feel." "Oh yes," she murmured softly. "I remember. In fact, I'm counting on it." She pulled him unresisting towards her and proceeded with a demonstration of *real* kiss. A slight breeze wafted through the open window, snuffing out the last candle, leaving the room bathed only in the soft silver light of the moon. "I love you." He whispered against her cool, moonlit skin. "I know." She laughed, gasping at the power of his love thrumming along her every nerve. "I know." ***** ~~~ " 'Who lets his children wander at their whim, choosing their road, as though not bound by him: But all their life is rounded with a shade, And every road goes down behind the rim, And there behind the rim, the swift, the lame, At different paces, but their end the same, Into the dark shall one by one go down.' (1) "Bon soir, mes amis, welcome to Nightwatch. I am the Nightcrawler, your host for this evening and one may hope, for many more to come. And so I begin by asking, do you know where your children are? Are they tucked in safe? In their beds; in their lives; perhaps even beneath a mother's heart? Ahhh, but how safe are they really? The world is a dark and dangerous place, full of fear and uncertainty. Especially for children. "And why is this? We, who have the power to bring a life into this world, can do nothing to protect that life against the whims and follies of misfortune. Our children; those bright points of light who give meaning to our existence and bestow warmth on our cold hearts. What sort of harsh tragedy is it that these straight, pure flames can be snuffed out by the slightest breath of wind? "And when we would try to keep them safe, to shield them from their own reckless inexperience, they brush us aside. They turn their backs on those who would gladly accept the lash of fate upon our own flesh, rather than see the welts rise up on their fair, unblemished skin. "And so we let go the leash and watch in silence as they rush out into the world, exulting to be free of us at last. We experience no such relief. For they hold a leash that wraps around our hearts, biting painfully into that tender organ the further they fly. We cannot help but fear for them. We know what is out there, lurking in the dark places of the world. " 'Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.' (2) "Go now, check on your children. Be sure they are safe, at least for the moment. It is not enough, can never be enough. But it is all we can do except wait and hope that the prodigal--weary, worn and repentant--will return to us at the last." ~~~ (1) - Lucretius (2) - Shakespeare End Chapter Eighteen ===================================================================== Comments, reviews and interpretive dances based on this work to: Erika End notes: Thanks to everyone for sticking with me on this one, especially for all the newbies who requested the earlier chapters. It makes a big difference to know that someone out there is actually interested in reading my stuff. Tossing virtual rose petals and Hershey's kisses at all your feets. Mary C., you get all that plus a necklace of amber teardrops, since amber contrasts so nicely with black pearls. Also, the best way to preserve precious memories is to seal them up inside the golden tears wept by ancient trees. That's where I keep all of mine. As a reminder, the prequel to this story, entitled 'The Rekindling' can be found at Bonnie's most excellent Vachon fiction webpage: http://users.lanminds.com/~callalily/jdvfic.html Bon nuit, mes amis.