Legacies By April French Part One Toronto: March 1997 Thursday Night The bookstore was dark and quiet, undisturbed but for the barely discernable sound of dust brushing across the floor. Silently, a spare, slender figure descended a concealed staircase, and moved through the stacks to the back of the store. He pulled aside a hinged bookcase to reveal a door. A thin hand took a key from an inner pocket and unlocked the door, stepped inside, and softly pulled the bookcase closed. Striding across the dark office, he pulled open a refrigerator. Light spilled briefly onto the floor for a few seconds, while the figure chose his breakfast. He selected a tall green bottle, and shut the fridge with a muffled slam! Biting into the cork, he spit it out, using the practiced technique he had learned from his father. It sailed through the air in a perfect arc and plopped awkwardly between the three artificial logs in the gas fireplace. Taking a swig from his bottle of 'Scotch,' Kai turned on his desk lamp, dispelling some of the darkness in his office. He sat down and spilled the contents of a large manila envelope out onto the polished wood surface. There were photographs, old letters, and legal-looking documents. Kai stared at the mess of paper for the seventeenth time. "Shit," he sighed, passing a hand over his face. "I must be working off a load of terrible karma from a hundred past lives to have deserved this." Kai had never meant to get into this business. He'd certainly never expected to. To be honest, no one else had, either. @}----- Brooklyn, New York City, 1930 "Kai! Kai Allerton, well, I'll be damned!" Kai stepped jauntily down the staircase into the cavernous library, his fedora in his hand. "Actually, it's Thorn now, Gulliver." Gulliver shrugged his nondescript shoulders. "Allerton, Thorn, what have you." He smiled. "Anyhow, it's good to see you again. How long has it been since you've been in Brooklyn, anyhow? Fifty years?" "Sixty." "Yes, that's right. I think I saw your master up on Broadway a few years back." "On stage?" "No, in the audience for Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula.'" "Ah, yes, yes. The Hungarian. I hear they're looking at him for the film version. Pity. Personally, I would have preferred Lon Chaney in the role, but--" Kai spread his hands. "That option, alas, is no more." "I know. The day after he died, I stepped on a spider and felt no remorse. It's been very depressing." Kai sighed. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to compare cinematic preferences, Gulliver. I need some information." "Of course, of course you are. That's what I live for, after all." He rubbed his hands together. "What'll it be?" "I need everything you've got on a vampire named Jakob Tomlinson. And that's Jakob with a K." Gulliver nodded, settling his wire-rimmed glasses more firmly on the bridges of his nose. "Tomlinson, Jakob." He dove into an indoor jungle composed of stacks of papers, books, folders and filing cabinets. "Have you any specific information in mind?" "Anything and everything. Particularly everything incriminating." "The plot thickens. What's he done?" "He owes money." "To you?" "To a client of mine." Gulliver straightened. "A client?" He chuckled. "Oh dear, oh dear. That is a hoot." "How do you live in Brooklyn for six years without picking up an accent?" Kai grumbled. "Shut your mouth, Gulliver, before I sic a sack of Lilliputians on you." "I'm sorry," Gulliver said, not in the least contrite. "I just never thought that out of all the trades in the world, that one would claim the interest of St. Kai. So... are they calling you the 'Black Falls Blackmailer' yet?" Kai rolled his grey eyes. "'Milverton,' actually." "You see? I told you all that Victorian nostalgia would bite you back eventually." With a strong jerk, Gulliver pulled out a hefty folder. He wended his way out of the jungle, placidly ignoring the loud crash! that his discovery had caused. "Thank you," said Kai gratefully, leafing through the pages. "Lovely. My client will be pleased." "You're a very hands-off blackmailer, I take it?" "I'm just paid to get the information. It's up to my clients to decide what to do with it." "Well, it's your business, I suppose." "What do I owe you?" "Never mind that. Kai." Kai looked up. Gulliver's bland brown eyes were concerned. "Be careful. do this because I'm curious. All this information is for my own intellectual pleasure. You're using it to ensure the downfall of others. That's your business. But be careful." @}----- He hadn't seen Gulliver since 1961. His old friend had simply... vanished. Because of Kai. "Guess I wasn't careful enough, old fellow," he said sadly. He thought he had left this wretched business behind when he left Black Falls. He had tried to, anyway. But this particular client would not take no for an answer, and if Kai wanted any peace, he was going to have to finish what he had started. "I swore I'd never go back except in an urn," he muttered petulantly. But there was nothing else he could do to resolve the situation. Kai stared at the bottle in his hand, no longer hungry. He walked into the immaculate, seldom-used bathroom and poured the blood down the toilet. *** "The past," purred the Nightcrawler, "is never dead. It is always following, creeping up behind you... It walks in your footsteps, hiding in your shadow... waiting... to strike." LaCroix looked up as someone walked into his sound booth. Miranda was eyeing the radio equipment with some trepidation and a little youthful patronizing. Her expression inspired a small grin to form on her husband's alabaster features. "But the past never intrudes with a vengeance," he continued, mouth close to the microphone but eyes on Miranda. "Or at least, very rarely. More often, it creeps insidiously into you everyday existence..." Miranda moved to stand behind LaCroix, the tips of her blond hair tickling the nape of his neck. "Patiently... slowly..." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Until the day when all your worst fears and most desperate dreams descend upon your unwitting head in one massive deluge, and drown you." He licked his lips. "Utterly." With the push of a button, LaCroix cut to music. He turned and brushed his lips against the slender hand resting on his right shoulder. "Don't me when I'm working," he admonished. "Is that what you call this?" He turned and met her humor-filled cobalt blue eyes. "Working? No way. You're having far too much fun." "'Fun?'" LaCroix repeated the word with dripping distaste. But through their bond, he was laughing. It was amazing how much this man could laugh, and a laughter totally devoid of malice or ulterior motives, if only the privacy of Miranda's mind. "I'm only having as much 'fun' twisting the minds of Toronto into knots, my dear, as you're having skulking about the club and bewildering every male under three hundred. You have as devastating an effect on men as my... as Janette does, did you know that?" Miranda nodded ruefully, removing her hand and bending down to rest her chin in its place. "I was aware of it. Could've had any man in Black Falls. Could've had all of them, if I'd wanted them." She paused. "This is the part where I'm supposed to say something horribly sappy about you being the only man for me." "Oh, well, don't say that. By any means." "Of course not. No point in swelling your ego any further." "As I said, you have a devastating effect on men." LaCroix slid his hand behind Miranda's neck and pulled her down for a long kiss. It hadn't taken Miranda long to decide that he didn't know how to kiss any other way, but she didn't mind. Finally, she had to break away. "Damnably annoying process, breathing," LaCroix smirked. "I assume you came in for something else?" he asked. "The song almost over." "Nothing earth-shattering. Just a phone call from Julian." *** Tracy shoved another shirt into her miniscule suitcase. Kai was leaving for Black Falls in the morning and she had to be ready to go with on his trip. A 'business trip slash parent-child bonding long weekend,' he called it. Tracy tossed several items into her bag, tried zipping it shut... "Aw, come on!" She was so busy rearranging the contents and trying to make it all fit, that she didn't realize she had a visitor. "Child, I said pack for a day, not a decade." She jumped five feet across the bedroom. "Ack!" Kai leaned one shoulder on the doorframe, with his hands in his pockets. His calm grey eyes regarded her with amusement. "Dammit, don't that!" "Sorry. Family failing. But Black Falls does have shops. Whatever else you need, we can pick up when we get there." He walked over and glanced in her bag. "Tracy," Kai said quietly. "You don't need those." "What?" "The tampons." "Are you crazy? Of course I--oh...oh. Damn." Tracy felt like she actually managed a blush. She grabbed the handful of tampons and threw them in the garbage. "Two months, you'd think I'd remember by now." "Hmm." Reaching out, Kai cupped Tracy's face and stroked the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. She stiffened. "Perhaps this trip is more necessary than I thought." He let his hand fall away. "Tracy, are you all right? You're as jumpy as a roomful of scorched cats." "It's nothing." Tracy struggled with the zipper. "The nightmares still bothering you?" "Yeah." "Who was it this time?" "...my mother." "Hmm," he said again. Kai closed his eyes in seeming thought, but Tracy could feel the warm touch of her master's mind. She braced herself for his gentle and insistently probing questions. He had every right, she supposed, but right now there was nothing more that she dreaded than to have Kai inside her head. But he said nothing. He turned to go, hesitated, turned back and with one sharp tug, zipped the bag shut. "Have a good night" was all Kai said. *** "Hey Nick, Tracy," said the forensics guy absently, making notes on his clipboard. Nick nodded to him and knelt down besides the remains of what was once a grocery store attendant. The sheet covering the body had only a few clean spots remaining to prove that it had once been white. "Hell of a mess, ain't it?" "Yeah, sure is." Nick lifted the red sheet and grimaced. "Talk about overkill." Behind him, Tracy took one look and turned away quickly, covering her mouth. The forensics guy shrugged sympathetically. Nick dropped the sheet and stood to 'comfort' his partner. "I thought I told you to feed before coming to work," he whispered. "I did!" "This kind of sight is still hard even for me." "I don't mind it. But the smell..." Tracy shook her head sharply. "It's overwhelming." "Hey Knight!" someone called. "Dakins. What've you got?" "Hand gun. .45 caliber. Could be the murder weapon." Tracy reached for it, glad of something to take her mind off the blood. "There are a few other weapons scattered around. Looks like the perp might've cleared out his car before taking off." "Yeah, maybe." But Nick wasn't paying very much attention to Dakins. He was watching Tracy. She was turning the gun over in her gloved hands, looking at it from every angle as though probing it with her newly enhanced vision. Then she raised the barrel to her nose--and sniffed. Nick smothered a grin; Dakins just looked confused. "Detective Vetter?" he ventured. His answer was to get the gun tossed back at him. "Have that sent down to ballistics for analysis," she instructed. Purposefully, Tracy strode over to where the corpse was just being loaded onto a gurney for transport, lifted the sheet--and sniffed. By now, everyone at the crime scene was watching Tracy with a small measure of concern, wondering if perhaps they should dig out that old straitjacket that they kept in the glove compartment (just for emergencies...). Finally she straightened. "Okay. Take him out." She ignored the stares and sniggers. "Nick? Are we done here?" "Uh... sure," said Nick, bemused. "Later, Dakins." Dakins half-raised a hand, then gave up and just shrugged. Tracy got into the Caddy, closed the door, buckled her seatbelt, and sneezed violently. Nick chuckled. "Little gunpowder up your nose?" "Just a little." "What was that all about?" "Kai's been teaching me how to match and identify scents." "Really? I'm impressed. That's not something I'm very good at. So, what did your nose say?" "The .45 caliber Dakins handed me was the same one that pumped The Little Grocery Boy full of holes." Nick pursed his lips as he drove down the highway. He really was impressed... and a little envious. One of the smaller points of contention between himself and LaCroix was his inability to adequately track prey by following their scent trail. No matter how old he got or how hard he tried, it just was not a talent that Nick possessed. He shifted under his seatbelt and changed the subject. "So, when are you and Kai leaving?" "Saturday night." "And are you looking forward to this trip?" His partner didn't answer right away. "Trace?" "I don't know. It was all right at first, but now being around Kai just... makes me nervous." Nick chuckled. "Well, Kai does tend to have that effect on people. Just give it time, Trace." Tracy nodded, unconvinced. *** Coming down the world turned over And angels fall without you there I go on as you get colder Are you someone's prayer? Amid the clapping and catcalls, Alain stepped down from the stage and sauntered over to the bar for his post-song drink. "The usual?" Janette asked. "Of course." "Honestly, Alain," complained the dark-haired hostess, selecting the bottle that was Alain's favorite. "I don't know how you drink this filth. It's almost as bad as when Nicolas was imbibing cow blood." "Janette!" Alain exclaimed, wounded. "I'm totally against the consumption of animal byproducts." He took a deep gulp of his disgusting cocktail while Janette looked ill. "So... what do you think of this fellow... Julian?" "I haven't met him. But LaCroix has. He has a high enough opinion of the young doctor." Alain did not look convinced. "I don't know about this. The last time I went to a doctor, I nearly ended up castrated." Janette rolled her eyes. "Alain, the last time you went to a doctor was in the fifteenth century. LaCroix say that Dr. Gorey seems very knowledgeable, takes admirable care of Nicolas's Kai, and that unlike Nicolas's Natalie, he has no pretensions of finding a 'cure' for vampirism." Janette noted with some pride that her voice was quite level. Abruptly, Alain reached out and grasped her hand briefly before returning to his drink. "How are you dealing with Nicolas's Natalie? Now that he's ready to be balled and chained?" Alain knew something of her stint as a mortal. he knew was the better question, because she certainly hadn't told him. And LaCroix would never tell Alain, of all people, something so private. However he had found out, Alain had proved to have an uncharacteristic sensitivity about the subject, and refrained from mentioning it. But he was not above bringing up other topics in conversation, and Janette took a long time before answering. <> "Natalie is what Nicolas wants. And... he is no longer what I need." *** Friday Night Natalie tossed Nick an evidence bag as he came through the door. " is the bullet that killed him," she said without preamble. A bemused Nick passed the bag to his partner. Natalie walked around the table and gestured to a mini-mountain of evidence bags on the counter. "And are the rest of the bullets that I pulled out of him. This guy was like Swiss cheese." Tracy opened the bag and sniffed. "Ugh. Yep, same gun." "Sorry?" Tracy flushed slightly, embarrassed yet again. Nick grinned with some pride. Grandfatherly pride, Natalie reminded herself with mild shock. "Apparently, Tracy has a fantastic nose. She's smelling the gunpowder residue. Unfortunately, aromatic evidence isn't admissible in court. Has ballistics gone over it yet?" "Yep." Tracy brightened. "So we've got a match?" "Looks like it. "Great. Oh, do you guys have plans tonight?" "No, not... really." Natalie, not being a vampire, did blush, and furiously, when Nick scowled and sent her several vivid mental images of exactly what had planned on doing when their shifts were over. she jabbed. A muscle in Nick's right cheek twitched in protest, but he shut down. "Why?" "Julian." Natalie groaned. "Oh, that's right, he warned me about that before he took off." Nick proceeded to look very blank. "Julian's giving Kai a full medical exam before he leaves for New York, and he got the idea into his head to do comparative exams on everyone else in Kai's Family that happen to be in the immediate area. Which includes you and Tracy." "And Alain. And Janette, and LaCroix... What for?" asked Nick nervously. "For the hell of it. He's curious. And why not? I think it's a fabulous idea. Besides, vampire or no vampire, he's still a scientist. And so am I." Natalie slapped Nick's chest with a file. "You have your hungers, we have ours." *** "How did get roped into this?" Nick exclaimed, stepping off the elevator. LaCroix regarded his son balefully. "I volunteered, Nicholas. Anything for the advancement of science." "Your sarcasm is touching." Nick hung up his trench coat and jacket. Brushing a lock of black hair back from his forehead, Alain Barbour looked up from a magazine and grinned his vagabond's smile. "Volunteered nothing. He 'volunteered' for service as a doughboy eighty years ago, but Miranda made him come today. Three cheers for married life!" Before LaCroix could respond, Kai came out of the dressing room, buttoning up his shirt. "Well?" "He'll take his next 'patient' as soon as he's done with Tracy. And if it makes you all feel any better, he's put his own Family through this a dozen times." Alain grimaced. "And we all know how much Julian his own Family..." "What's your bill of health?" Nick asked hastily. "Good. Well," Kai amended, "as good as can be expected. A little better." He smiled wanly. "I haven't had a hemorrhage since January." "That's something, right?" "It's the calm," Kai shrugged. "The one that comes before the storm. It never lasts. But I certainly enjoy it while it does." Nick clamped down very firmly on the wave of pain that hit him. "Where's Tracy?" Kai jerked his head towards another door. "With Janette and Natalie. Tracy and I have to get going, so she's in the exam room with Julian right now. He's got a particular few tests that he wants to run, and he needs Natalie to get some samples from the ladies." "Why Natalie?" A strange cast came over the younger vampire's face. "Tell me, Nicholas, do you know the meaning of the word 'gynecology?'" "Of course I--oh." Nick pressed his lips together. Alain threw his arm around his brother's shoulders, delighting in his discomfort. "You see, Nicolas, when a man and a woman love each other very much--" "Get off!" "Oy!" Julian's voice came though the door. "If you two are through with the male bonding, who wants to go first?" Alain and Nick traded uneasy glances. *** The examinations lasted well into the morning, so LaCroix, Janette and Alain were forced to spend the day in the Corvina's dormitory. As the sun rose, Nick and Natalie relaxed in front of their fireplace. A mug of hot chocolate and a bottle of good bloodwine rested on the floor next to the couch. His arms were encircling her, her head was on his chest, they were basking in the simple joy of each other's company, and neither of them envied the other vampires their narrow cots. "That," Nick said at last, breaking the silence, "was grueling. Even you never put me through that kind of medical gauntlet." "Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad." "Nat, you weren't the one getting poked and sniffed and stared at." "Hmm. Well, the poking I can understand, and possibly the sniffing. Why was he staring at you?" "I asked him that myself. Apparently, he can use his heat-sense to get a visual on the inside of the body." Natalie sat up. "No kidding. He didn't do that with your leg, though." "Actually, he did. But he wanted to double-check and have a physical record, so he shoved me under the X-ray." Natalie's eyes were wide with fascination. "Okay, that's it," she decided. "Julian's being way too stingy with his information. I have to pick his brains." "What--I hope you don't mind me asking, but what did he have you do to Janette and Tracy?" "Female things." Natalie looked at her fiancé expectantly. "You really want the full details?" Nick grimaced. "That's okay." *** On Saturday night, Julian drove Kai and Tracy to the airport. They got their tickets and checked their bags, and then he waited with them by the gate. Kai was engrossed in another book by C.S. Lewis, so Julian had a few minutes to himself with Tracy. "Listen, be careful down there," he said seriously, taking her hand. "Black Falls is no place for anyone, even if you've been born there. Listen to Kai, do what he says and don't go without him." Julian took a card from his pocket. "If worse comes to worse and you two lose each other, go to this house." Tracy looked at the plain white card. Printed on it was an address, as well as the name "J. Benjamin Gorey." "That's my older brother Joshua," Julian explained. "If anything happens while you're there, go straight to him. He'll help you." "I'll do that," Tracy promised. "Thanks." Suddenly, Julian reached out and cupped her cheek in his gloved hand. "Be careful," he repeated in a hoarse whisper. Then he kissed her. Julian honestly meant it to be a touch of brotherly affection... but it escalated. At the first touch of his lips, Tracy froze. But something in the back of her mind reminded her that he would not hurt her. And that this wasn't totally unexpected. She was about to into the gentle kiss when he pulled back "Sorry," Julian said, flustered. "I--um--er--" He coughed. "Well, that was eloquent. Trace, I'm sorry." "Hey, it's okay." "You, um... didn't mind?" Tracy smiled weakly. "Julian... Okay, look. I'm new at this. This whole thing. It's still a lot to take in. You're a nice guy and I trust you, but... it's a little too soon for me." "Vachon." "Yeah." Julian nodded, and smiled resignedly. "Okay. Okay." He stood up, zipping his coat. "Have a good trip." *** Sunday Night On returning to the Raven at sunset, Janette and Alain secured permission to take the night off and disappeared into their separate quarters to get some real sleep. LaCroix snatched a bottle from the bar, nodded to Miklos to put it on his tab, and wended his way in back and up the stairs to his apartment, looking forward to the comforts of his own bed, promising himself to never again spend a day at the Corvina clinic. Halfway up the staircase, though, he stopped. Listening. Someone was in his home. Concentrating on what his ears could hear rather than what his mind was trying to tell him, LaCroix found that he could hear Miranda's heartbeat, loud and strongly confident. But he could also hear a voice, a deep, curiously compelling male voice. No steady heartbeats. No regular breathing. Miranda was alone with an unknown vampire. LaCroix was up the stairs with the door open in an instant. "Bon soir, mon frère," said the dark-haired intruder quietly, sipping from a wineglass as coolly as you please. "So good to see you again." For a moment, LaCroix's voice deserted him. He shook his head. he thought wryly. At last, he said, "Étienne, you take the most suicidal of chances." Étienne was, in fact, one of LaCroix's younger sons. But his upbringing had been overseen by LaCroix's sister, who had been thoroughly infatuated with the musician, and on top of that, Étienne could not bear to call anyone 'father.' But their bond was humming, powerful and imposing, and LaCroix kicked himself for not recognizing it. Étienne shrugged gracefully. "That's what you liked about me, remember?" "As I recall, I liked you for your music. Shosha was the one who enjoyed your more maniacal tendencies." "If you say so. Incidentally," he raised his glass, "my congratulations on your marriage. She's a fine choice." Miranda stood before LaCroix could retaliate. "Don't be angry," she said softly, taking his hands. "There's no reason for him to be. When have I ever hurt a woman? Besides, you and I are old friends, after all." "Étienne taught me to sing," Miranda continued. Resigned, LaCroix kissed her forehead. "I might have known. But he could have been anyone, and you're not that attuned to my fledglings yet. You still should not have let him in." Miranda rolled her eyes. "I didn't. He was here when I woke up. Him and the boys." LaCroix stiffened. "The 'boys?'" He looked at Étienne sharply. "You didn't." "I most certainly did." The General snarled and stalked into the kitchen. Miranda curled up like a cat in an arm chair and looked at Étienne doubtfully. "I warned you," she pointed out. "And I agreed with your assessment, petite ange. But it must be done." Coming back with a glass and a bottle, LaCroix seated himself across from his intruding son. "What do you mean by bringing them here?" he asked curtly. Étienne raised a finger to his lips. "Not so loud," he chided. "They're asleep in the guest room." His naturally yellow eyes hardened. "As for why we're here, I'll get straight to the point. Shosha and I have had Alexei for ninety-seven years. Daniel for fifty- two. We have children of our own, LaCroix, and your sons are not my responsibility." Étienne raised a long, expressive finger. "They are healthy, educated, and reasonably obedient, and I want them " The temperature in the living room physically dropped nearly ten degrees. "I never thought to hear you, of all people, say such a thing," said LaCroix, with great venom. "You, who know what it is like to be an abandoned child." Swiftly, Étienne was inches from his father-brother's nose. "It is precisely because I know what it is like that I am here!" he hissed. "I have spent the last two decades trying to convince those boys that you haven't forgotten them, that you are coming to get them soon. are their father, not I. They do not want to be with any more. They want to be with " His beautiful voice softened. "LaCroix, they haven't seen you for twenty years. For mercy's sake, at least spend some time with them." "Mercy," LaCroix sneered. "Yes, mercy," Étienne retorted. "I assume you remember the meaning of the word?" Narrowing his icy eyes at the Parisian, LaCroix stood. "Alexei! Daniel!" Through the guestroom door, Miranda heard the hurried scramblings of the two boys tumbling out of their blankets. The door opened slowly. "Father." "Father." One Russian, one British, both brothers. Blooded brothers, as the term went in Black Falls. Brothers of blood and fang. "My sons." The General held out his hand. Alexei, the brown-haired older boy, stepped forward and kissed the ancient ring with great affection. Daniel cast formality to the wind and threw his arms around his father. LaCroix tensed. "I've missed you," said the fifty-year-old child sincerely. Gently, LaCroix pushed him away. It was odd, he reflected, not to hear the Cockney tones in Daniel's voice anymore. "We've both missed you," added Alexei, the Russian accent only just lingering after nearly a century of speaking French. Stiffly, LaCroix nodded. *** At a fork in the road, Kai stopped the rental car. He leaned on the steering wheel and stared grimly at the odd tree growing out of the split between the two concrete paths. "Three-legged tree," he grunted sourly. "Christ, I do want to be here..." "Then why come back?" Tracy was getting a little tired of her master's constant griping. First the plane ride down to Albany, then at the hotel where they had spent the daylight hours of Sunday, and now the drive back up into the Adirondacks, which consisted of mainly circles as Kai tried to remember exactly how to get back into Black Falls-- "Trust me, child, you'd gripe too, if you knew what this place could be like." He sighed. "I've got one last nasty bit of business to take care of. So I might as well get it done." Putting the car in gear, Kai took the right fork, and drove deeper into the forest. *** LaCroix tried to fend off the spaniel's overtures. "He's quite the friendly little entree." Alexei looked mildly alarmed, and quickly held out his arms for his dog. "Good boy, Joy." The red and white Cavalier King Charles spaniel yapped in agreement and licked his master's face. "Odd name for a male dog," LaCroix commented. Étienne shrugged. "The entire time he's been with me, he's had a dog. They've always been male, always looked relatively similar looking, and always been named Joy." He raised his voice. "Alexei, mon enfant, you know Joy can't stay." The Russian boy's face fell. "I know." His voice was wistful. "You'll take care of him, won't you, Étienne?" "I promise, I won't let Sultana lay a paw on him." Étienne snapped his fingers. Joy leapt up and padded over to the tall vampire, and sat obediently at his feet. "Just call me the dog whisperer." He looked over at the corner where Miranda and Daniel were examining the few belongings he had brought. Lowering his voice so that only he and his father could hear, "Watch him, Lucien," he said. "I haven't said yet that I'll keep them." Étienne ignored him. "He's a good boy, but sometimes his teeth run ahead of his brain. Watch him. Especially with her." Something came into Étienne's permanently amber eyes. "So like mon ange," he whispered. He closed his eyes in pain, remembering. LaCroix was silent, remembering as well. "Watch him." --Song lyrics from "Black Balloon" by the Goo Goo Dolls Legacies By April French Part Two Natalie peered down into the microscope. "What that?" she wondered aloud. "Hm?" "This sample of Alain's blood." "I haven't had a chance to look at his results yet. What's wrong?" "It's... tinted." "Tinted? Really. What color?" "Green." Julian leaned back in his desk chair. "Well, I suppose he does look a little bit like Mr. Spock... But green... Huh." He thought for a moment and shrugged. "I'll have to double-check, but my best guess is that he's been drinking absinthe. Blood mixed with whiskey and wormwood instead of the usual straight bloodwine. No wonder he's such a knucklehead." "Absinthe turns vampire blood green?" "Absinthe turns just about anything green." Julian picked up a chart and snorted. "You know, Nat, even for a 2,000-year-old vampire, LaCroix is disgustingly healthy. Although he and Nick have some really shaped hemoglobular scarring, not to mention the most screwed up antibodies I have ever seen. It almost looks like--" "HIV?" "Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly it. But all these antibodies are functioning perfectly." His puzzled frown vanished when Natalie explained about the Fever. "Oh, okay. Okay, that makes sense. Yeah. I'd heard some rumors about some kind of vampire plague, but honestly, I couldn't make heads or tails of them." He chuckled. "I can see why nobody would want to talk about it. Do you still have viable samples of the thing?" "A few." "You mind if I take a look at them?" "They're at the lab in the loft. Drop by some time." "I'll do that, thanks." Julian suddenly grinned. "Hey. Wanna see something cool?" Several charts were spread out on his desk. "DNA maps? Julian, you don't have the equipment here for all these tests," Natalie began. The conspiratory grin grew wider. "Don't ask, don't tell," he cautioned. "Now look." Natalie looked. "What am I looking for?" Julian pointed to a specific spot on LaCroix's chart, highlighted in green. "This marker right here. You'll never see this in a mortal. It's only found in vampires. It's what we call a sire mark. If you look at Nick's chart--" He pointed again. "--and Janette's, and Alain's, you'll find the same mark. Now, on Kai's chart, it's a little less prominent, and even less than that on Tracy's but it's still there. But Nick's sire mark, the one in blue, is very noticeable in Kai's profile, and Kai's--which is orange--is the same in Tracy." He glanced at her. "Catching on yet?" "It's a paternity test," Natalie realized. "A vampire paternity test." "Yes!" "That's incredible. Did you develop this?" "Mostly. I did have some help. The idea was my mother's." <> "Do these charts show the all vampire DNA or just the sire mark?" Julian picked up the maps with some haste. "Just the sire mark. Standard DNA tests on vampire blood only reveal that one marker. You need a very specific test to do a mock-up of all our unique features. And believe me, it's something to see." "You'll have to show me how." He shoved the DNA charts into a file cabinet and locked the drawer, and blatantly ignored the suggestion. "Hey, there is one other thing I wanna show you before we get going. You know what a human skull looks like, right?" "I should hope so." "Okay, okay. Just for argument's sake..." Julian took a cast-resin skull from a shelf. "Average, run-of-the-mill fake human skull. Pay close attention to the cheek areas and the nasal cavity. Now." He took down another skull encased in twelve-inch-thick plastic. " is a vampire skull." Natalie all but grabbed the specimen away from him. "Easy, tiger. A real one, not those saber-toothed things you find in Ren-Fest magazines." "How did you do this?" she asked, point blank. "What did you do to this to make it--" "Not crumble into ashes or vanish into thin air?" He leaned forward. "You know how shrunken heads are made?" "Vaguely." Julian shrugged. "It's relatively the same process." "Charming." "But look here." He pointed to the cheekbones of the vampire skull. "You see these cavities leading into the nasal passage?" "I've never seen this type of formation before. These develop after someone's been brought across?" "Exactly." Natalie turned the clunky rectangular block of plastic over in her hands. "And so these nasal cavities are what allow for the enhanced sense of smell." "You're a quick study. These are average sized passages. Nick's are quite a bit smaller than normal, which is why he can't smell much more than the strongest scents. Now nasal passages are perfectly enormous." "Which is why she could smell the gunpowder residue." "And identify the gun it came from, if necessary. Here." He took Natalie's hand and pressed her fingertips to his left cheek, just under the eye socket. "Don't press too hard," he warned. "Some of the soft tissue is easily damaged." Natalie probed the edges of the nasal cavity, fascinated. "Bats have extra folds of skin around their nostrils to enhance their sense of smell. But contrary to folk tales, we have nothing to do with bats." Julian tapped his throat, just under his Adam's apple. "Vampires trained specifically in tracking always keep their mouths open when trailing. Swallowing allows the scent to reach the Jacobsen's organ, which in turn provides mountains of information to the brain." Natalie poked at the small organ. "Oh, I'm going to have an interesting day in store for Nick." Julian snickered. "I'll bet. Listen, can you do me a big favor, and get another couple of samples from Janette?" "Oh, she is not going to like that," Natalie grimaced. "Well, if vampires could produce urine, I wouldn't have to do this type of test in the first place. As for Janette's discomfort, well, that's just one of the disadvantages of being brought across before the development of Pap smears." "Only a man could call not having to undergo a Pap smear a disadvantage. Why do you need more samples?" "The first set was contaminated. I'm not sure how, but they're just not adding up." "Are the others all right? Is Nick's?" "Picture perfect," he said, a little too quickly, "but Janette's have to be done over again." Julian looked at the clock. "Man, I hate Mondays. Come on, we're gonna be late for work." *** Just after sundown, they finally parked the car with the tinted windows in front of a small, rustic-looking hotel called the West End. "Which," Kai commented, "is predictably located on the East End of town." He flexed his thin fingers, cramped from the long drive. "I told you we'd need all those maps to get up here." Tracy, putting away the small mountain of maps and charts, managed a half-hearted smile. They hadn't been out of the car more than three seconds before Tracy felt the crawl up and down the length of her spine. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck and hands were shivering, and she thought she could feel her body shrinking in on itself, trying to get as far away from the Black Falls air as possible. Kai touched his bond with Tracy sympathetically. "Now you see why I didn't want to come back? The very atmosphere entangles you, like a giant spider web." His breathe caught in his throat, and Kai had to close his eyes and compose himself. "Let's... let's get the bags." They checked in and got their room key, Tracy looking around curiously all the while. The lobby was empty, and the girl behind the front desk was surprisingly mortal, right down to the tired bubblegum on her breath. Tracy remembered what Kai had said about the town: "'It's a queer place. Suffers from the 'Superman Syndrome.' No matter what happens, no matter how weird the evidence, nobody notices anything out of the ordinary. It's one of those pits into which every atrocity perpetrated disappears without a trace. Drained bodies everywhere, but the mortals take no notice of us.'" "Does this town have enough tourists to justify supporting a hotel?" she asked in the privacy of the single elevator. Kai shrugged. "It's privately owned and operated. Besides. You call it a hotel. Everyone else calls it a restaurant." Tracy gulped. "I've stepped into a Stephan King novel," she muttered in horror. "It's Black Falls, not ''Salem's Lot,'" Kai shot back. They disembarked, and spent a few minutes searching the hallway for their suite. It wasn't bad, Tracy decided. Very nice common area, well-stocked bathroom and not gaudy at all. "And yes, surprisingly, this town gets a lot of lost tourists somehow stumbling through its borders, and they get put up here. In the morning," Kai continued, putting the contents of his suitcase into the bedroom's dresser, "they leave, and only a few dollars and a few pints poorer than when they came..." He trailed off, realizing what he was saying. "My God. I'm defending the ass-end of Hell." "Julian would be very disappointed." "Hungry?" "Starving." "Good." Kai shut the dresser drawer. "Because I'm feeling crossed tonight." "Why, what's the matter now?" Kai blinked. Then he chuckled. "Not cross, Tracy, 'crossed.' Means I'm in a LaCroix-ish mood." "Should I be scared?" "Probably." Kai put a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to take this seriously, Tracy. There are certain things that every vampire needs to learn, and this is the easiest place in the world to start teaching you." "Teaching me what?" In the dark bedroom, Kai's eyes glowed a brilliant amber. "How to hunt." *** Julian was oddly quiet that night at the morgue, almost... pensive, Natalie decided, as if he was steeling himself to do something that he really didn't want to do. For hours, he sliced, peeled and dissected, bagged, tagged and catalogued with barely two words for his co- workers. Grace, passing by him more than once, looked the American up and down, and finally passed judgment. "Who stuck a stick up his butt?" she muttered, shaking her head. Natalie walked behind him. "I'll get you those samples as soon as I can," she promised under her breath. Julian jerked, badly startled. "Huh? Oh," he shook his head fretfully, "I know you will. It's not that, it's... it's something else. Do you expect Nick in tonight?" Natalie blinked. "Not off-hand... why?" "I need to talk with him, is all." "Does this have something to do with his blood tests?" "Nope. No, not a thing. But..." Julian tapped his palms against the table and the report he had been working on. "This is all finished. I'm heading over to the precinct to drop it off," he decided, and was halfway out the door before Natalie's voice stopped him. "Julian? Tell Nick I love him." "Sure." *** Nick rubbed his much-abused eyes. He had been staring at the computer screen for God only knew how long, trying to find some reason for David Parks, the twenty-three-year-old grocery boy, to have been so brutally gunned down that he was only identifiable by his blood type, driver's license and the safety pins on his sneakers. A finger popped into Nick's field of vision and abruptly turned off his computer monitor. "Julian!" Nick said, surprised. "Can I talk to you?" the doctor said tersely. "Alone?" Captain Joe Reese looked out his office window just in time to see Dr. Gorey drag Detective Knight into the interrogation room. Twenty minutes later, Julian emerged in a huff and quickly left the office. And twenty minutes after that, Nick came out. Reese was stunned to see the change in Nick. He was paler than normal, wide- eyed, listless, and walked straight into the nearest desk as though blind. Reese got up from his chair. "Hey Nick," he said from the doorway. "You okay?" "Sure," Nick mouthed woodenly. "Fine." "You positive?" Nick blinked a few times, stared at the floor, and booked off for the night. *** Tuesday Tracy stepped out of the steaming shower. She scrubbed herself with the fluffy hotel towel vigorously enough to flay off two or three layers of skin. She pulled on her PJs, brushed and blow dried her hair, and tried not to think about Kai's 'hunting lesson.' When she went into the bedroom, which was in near total darkness thanks to the industrial-strength window shades the hotel provided as solar protection to its undead clientele, Kai was already there. Sitting in an armchair near the door, reading an eight month old magazine, his ash-blond hair smelled fresh and damp from the shower he had managed to scrounge from somewhere. Tracy thought he might be naked to the waist under his bathrobe, but she didn't want to look too closely. His eyes met hers and suddenly, she did not even want to be in the same room with him. Tracy turned to go and make up a bed on the couch, but Kai had already shut--and locked--the door. "Take the bed," he said quietly. "No, you need it. You're sick..." "The couch will do me nicely for a day or two. Go on. I'll stay until you're asleep." She made sure to turn her back to him as she settled in under the blankets, and wondered if there was someway to turn away from the bond with her 'father' as well. Tracy thought vaguely as she drifted off to sleep... +++ Kai threw back his head, baring his fangs in tribute to night in the mountains and late winter wind. "Taste it," he rumbled to his fledgling. "Smell it. Take it into yourself. The tang, the... seduction." He crouched down next to Tracy in the alley opposite the cafe. "Can you smell her?" he asked, his frozen breath teasing her neck hairs into alertness. "She is waiting for you." "I can hear her heart. Beating..." Tracy flared her nostrils and opened her mouth slightly, as Kai had taught her. A woman. One who smelled of ink, old leather and denim, pepperoni pizza and Sprite with extra lemons. And something more. Beneath the surface scents, Tracy could smell violets. And apple wood. New grass after the first warm rain of spring... "I know that scent," Kai whispered. "She is perfect for you." They ducked into the shadows just as the mortal woman came out of the brightly-lit restaurant. She was tall and plump, with a cheerful, freckled face and tight, rich brown curls that reached down past the middle of her back. She was perhaps nineteen. "Eden," Kai called softly, no louder than a whisper but his voice somehow carried to the other side of the street. The woman looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes were satin brown and vibrant with life. Her eyebrows puckered in confusion. "Eden," he called again. Decisively, Eden shoved her hands into the pocket of her dark blue parka and crossed the street to the alley. Kai pulled Tracy even further back into the darkness. , he commanded silently. "Hello?" Eden took a cautious step into the alleyway. "Doug? Is that you?" With a roar, Tracy sprang from the shadows. One arm grabbed Eden round the torso and held her fast, while the other tangled itself into that glorious brown mane and pulled the young woman's head back, exposing it to Tracy's aching fangs. Willingly, she reared back and bit down, expecting but still totally unprepared for the rush of sensation and emotion that filled her mouth. she realized with horror. What finally made Tracy stop and whirl away, flooded with nearly uncontrollable nausea, was the realization that that last thought had been her own. Kai knelt down beside the discarded body. He dipped a finger in the red stuff trickling steadily from the two little round punctures and lifted the treat to his mouth. "Her name was Eden Ann Malloy," he said absently. "She had hopes of becoming a screenwriter." He closed his ice-grey eyes in appreciation. "Delightful. Just as you are, " He began laughing, terrible tearing laughs. When he opened his eyes, they were blood-red, reflecting the gore that covered Tracy from head to foot. +++ Tracy shot out of bed and made blindly for the door, dragging half her blankets with her. "I've got to take a shower," she gabbled. "Tracy--" "I'm covered in blood, I've got to take a shower--" "Tracy." The tone of command in Kai's voice was more than enough to wake her. Kai tossed aside his magazine. "Come here." Tracy didn't move. Kai's expression hardened slightly. "Come here," he repeated, softly but firmly. Hesitantly, Tracy stepped forward. Her master stood and held out his arms, and she reluctantly put herself in his embrace, leaning her head against his chest. "Ssh." His cool breath rustled the hair on the top of her head, followed by his lips. "You're shivering, Tracy. Come to bed." The shivering increased. "Kai, I..." "You what?" His arms tightened around her, not hurting her but effectively cutting off any escape. "Tracy, child, are you afraid of me?" he asked with disbelief and amusement. He was laughing, always slightly laughing at her, even as he gently stroked her back. "Tell me, Tracy," Kai said persuasively. "You're my master," she said softly. "I... guess I don't really have any recourse, do I?" Kai chuckled into her hair. "To answer your question, no, if I desired you in that fashion, you would have no choice but to submit. But I think you misunderstand me." Tracy looked up. "I'm not talking about sex." Kai's face grew concerned. "Child, stop avoiding me and come to bed. You'll sleep better once you do." Still a little nervous, Tracy replaced the blankets and slid back under the heavy covers. Kai shrugged off his robe and followed suit, settling against her back and wrapping his arms around her abdomen. "Another nightmare?" She nodded. "Tell me about it." Haltingly, Tracy did so, finally truly hesitating only at the end. The Kai in her dream had called her 'my child' with such lechery... A vampire and a mortal might have radically different body temperatures, but two vampires could keep each other very comfortable, so it was not Kai's cool skin that made Tracy uneasy. Kai growled in the back of his throat. "You know," he commented blandly, "if I had an ego, you would have bruised it very badly." Tracy smiled weakly. "Nothing personal. You're not bad-looking." "Thank you. Neither are you." Tracy tensed even more. Kai growled again, ducked and nipped her shoulder. "Eep!" "Tracy, relax and take the compliment for what it is. For God's sake, girl, I'm not going to rape you. I promise." Very deliberately, he pulled her closer against his chest. "If you're going to thrive in my world, you have to let go of your mortal limits." He stroked her stomach lightly with the tips of his fingers. "We are creatures of sensation, we need to touch and be touched, to be in contact--both mentally and physically--with others of our own kind. You cannot avoid us. You're too young to segregate yourself." He settled his chin into the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. " Go to sleep, ma femme. And no more nightmares." She managed to sleep a few dream-free hours in Kai's embrace. Tracy woke up around two in the afternoon and just lay in bed, thinking. "Talk," Kai grunted. "I have this bizarre need to apologize." "For what? Insulting my desirability?" "Something like that." "I'm difficult to insult. But there may come a time when you would welcome my company in that manner. It's very common for masters and their fledglings to strengthen their bond through intercourse." "What if--" "They're the same sex? Makes no difference. Most vampires don't have sexual orientation, just sexual preference." Tracy worried at an incisor with her tongue. "You and Nick have a really strong bond." "Yes." "So... you and Nick..." "Yes. In the early days, it was something I needed." "Did... did Nick and LaCroix...?" "I never asked. Very probably, yes, but I would think only once or twice. And I doubt it was for some centuries. Nicholas was a Frenchman who was brought across in the 13th century; homosexuality was a heinous crime in those days." Kai shrugged. "Well, in my days, too. But I'm an American; I can adapt to just about anything." "Don't take this the wrong way, but... did you... have you..." "Stop stuttering. Now, repeat after me: 'The rain in Spain grows mainly on the plain.'" "Have you and Julian ever had sex?" "No." Kai sat up, rubbing his neck. "Julian's not my fledgling, Tracy, he doesn't need that kind of attention from me. Besides, he's always seen me as a father. Never as a lover." He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?" Tracy shrugged and blushed faintly. "He's got a crush on me." "Yes. Yes, he does. Does that bother you?" "No. I mean, Julian himself doesn't bother me. But before we left, he kissed me--" "I hadn't noticed," said Kai dryly. "And I'm not ready for anything like that, not yet." "I'll tell him to back off, if you like." Tracy smiled and shook her head. "That's okay. I told him. I'm... I'm a big girl." She yawned. "Who needs some more sleep." And this time, she snuggled gratefully against her master's chest, and welcomed the respite from the nightmares. Kai lay quite still for some hours, but he did not fall back to sleep. His mind was too awake now, too restless, too caught up in thoughts of his rapidly approaching meeting with the vampire Black Falls knew as Slade. *** Tuesday Night Nick stared at his computer, unseeing. He knew he had work to get done, but... He just couldn't concentrate on the case. After what Julian had told him, all Nick wanted was... was someone to talk to. Anyone. Tracy, Kai, LaCroix, Janette. Even Alain. Anyone but Natalie. <> <> <> <> <> <> Nick shook his head fiercely. "I can't think about that right now," he muttered. "I can't!" <> @}----- Baltimore: 1842 "What does it feel like?" Nicholas asked. "To know that you are dying?" "Like being ripped apart by four wild horses," rasped the young man in the pathetic bed. Kai scrubbed at his much-abused chest muscles and coughed painfully. When he opened his eyes and found that Nicholas's expression had not changed, he reconsidered his answer. "You wish for me to be serious?" "Please." Kai leaned back against his thin pillow, and Nicholas made a mental note to get him a better one. "What exactly do you want to know?" "What does it feel like to know that you will soon be free? That your... pain and suffering will be over?" "Fearful," Kai replied quietly. The pathetic candlelight threw struggling shadows on his grey, gaunt face. "It's a waste. Sheer waste. To lie here, knowing that, as you say, all my pain and suffering will end soon, but the suffering of others will go on and on... And there's nothing I can do to alleviate their hurting..." A racking cough cut Kai off in mid-sentence. Nicholas held his shoulder firmly. "And there's nothing I can do," he repeated. "Nothing to leave behind. No property, no family... No one but you to even remember that I existed. "It might be different for you. But for me? My death won't just be the death of flesh, Nicholas. It will be the death of everything." @}----- "How different would it be, Kai?" asked Nick softly, rubbing his forehead. The ringing of his desk phone jabbed into his angsting. "Knight. Myra!" Nick's mood was suddenly lightened. "Hello! How are you? And how's Jenny doing?" The chattering voice of his late partner Schanke's widow was not one that would normally lift one out of melancholy, but just then Nick would have turned an ear to Lucifer himself to take his mind off Julian's warning. "Yeah, Natalie's sister-in-law is coming this weekend to help make plans for the wedding. I'm--I'm--Myra, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Yes. It's--Yes, it's in September. No, not yet. Of course you and Jenny are--Yes. This weekend. We'll--Nat and I will expect you. All right. G--Goodbye, Myra." Nick hung up the phone before Myra could say anything more, and smiled ruefully. "How did Schanke ever get a word in edgewise with that woman?" *** "I've got to be back to work tomorrow night," Tracy reminded Kai as they were shown into the office of Joshua Gorey, Black Falls' deputy mayor and Julian's older brother. She looked around quickly and decided it looked like a well-used lawyer's office from the U.S.'s Old West. "I know." "Now who's nervous?" "Kai Thorn," said Joshua, getting up from his desk. "Welcome back." And he shook Kai's hand warmly. "You have no idea how relieved Violet and I were when Jem told us that you'd gotten Miranda back safely. How is she?" Kai smiled lopsidedly. "Married." "No kidding! May I offer my congratulations?" "If you like." "Jem?" Tracy asked. Joshua chuckled. "My brother Julian. And you must be Tracy. He told about you, as well." He held out a broad hand. "A pleasure." Tracy shook his hand and tried her very, very best not to blush. Joshua Gorey was tall and darkly handsome and didn't resemble Julian in the slightest. In fact, he was the spitting image of Lawrence Olivier in 'Wuthering Heights.' "And now, down to business." Joshua's tone was apologetic. "I'm sorry to have to be involved in this transaction, Kai, but you know the law. You're no longer a resident, so I'm here as a witness." "Yes, Joshua, I know." Kai took a chair at the table on the far side of the office and began spreading out papers and photographs from the envelope he had brought. Engrossed as he was, Tracy edged over into a corner and stood behind him. "Just go bring in Slade so I can get this over with." Joshua nodded and left. "Kai?" Tracy ventured. "I can't wait to get back to Toronto," Kai muttered. "Mr. Thorn. Welcome back." Kai stiffened. Slowly he stood, and half-turned his sleekly groomed blond head to permit a view of the newcomer. "Andrew Slade. Don't welcome me back to this hellhole; it was you who asked me to come." Slade was a well-dressed vampire with bland good looks, of perhaps four hundred or so, more than two hundred years older than either Kai or Joshua, but it was clear to anyone who saw the three that Slade's age did not give him the upper hand. He was practically quaking as Kai's icy-grey gaze held him rooted to his spot on the worn wooden floor. "I don't want to waste anymore of my time here than I have to," Kai ground out finally. "Sit down." For three hours, Kai and Slade went over the information that Kai had gathered during his sojourn in Toronto, with Joshua listening closely all the while. It seemed to Tracy that they were discussing a vampire named Conroy, who had at some time 'dealt Slade a grievous insult.' But she couldn't be entirely certain. They talked in what sounded to her like a queer kind of doublespeak, a code formed from shared knowledge of people, places and sensitive information. At last, Kai leaned back in his chair. "That's everything. May it bring you no small misfortune." He moved to stand. "I'll send you my bill from Toronto." "Hold on, hold on, Mr. Thorn," Slade called as Kai was putting on his coat. "This isn't everything I asked for." "Well, it's everything I could find. Be a big man and deal." Slade pulled a piece of paper from an inner paper and threw it in Joshua's direction. "But it's not everything you were contracted to find! Mr. Gorey, read the contract!" Joshua read through the contract closely while Slade fidgeted and Kai fumed. "I'm sorry, Kai," Joshua sighed at last. "But you're legally bound to find out where Conroy ." "I beg your pardon?" Kai zipped up his jacket roughly. "Joshua, how the hell am I supposed to figure that out?" The deputy mayor of Black Falls shrugged. "You're the information broker, Milverton, not me. By starting from his last known location?" "But that was seventy years ago! And in London!" Confident that he had Joshua's backing, Slade stood. "Well then, Mr. Thorn, I guess you're just going to London." He put on his hat. "Good night, Mr. Thorn, Mr. Gorey. Miss," and Slade tipped his hat very politely to Tracy before sauntering out the door. Kai slumped back down into his chair, defeated and with the deflated air that always caused his master so much worry. Joshua touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kai. But a contract is a contract, and you did sign it." He shut the door silently as he went out. "Damn," Kai whispered, his breath beginning to coarsen. Tracy knelt down and quickly searched through his pockets for a handkerchief. "Come on, Kai, it won't be so bad." "Yes, it will." He sighed heavily and pushed her hand away. "I'll go, since I'm contracted to go. But let me tell you, I'm not looking forward to this trip. Tracy, I England." "I thought you liked Dickens." "Dickens's England is dead." *** Thursday "Okay," Julian swore quietly to himself, "this time, this is going to work." Resolutely, he slid the little piece of glass under his microscope, looked into the eyepiece--and his hopeful expression fell faster than water over Niagara. "Aw, shit! Not again... Six times! How could I have possible screwed up an elementary test like this six times? In a row, no less!" He struck his forehead with a hard fist. "What could in the world could I--" Julian looked up, horrified. "Holy mother of..." He looked into the microscope again, mentally comparing the blood cells with those he had taken from other vampires in Black Falls. "It is. It is! Mother of..." Julian grabbed for his phone. *** Thursday Night For four days, Nick had gotten no sleep. Though Natalie was always spooned against his chest, his mind was restless, and his half- conscious dreams were severely disturbed... <> <> <> <> <> <> "Nick. Nick!" He bolted up out of bed and landed on the other side of his bedroom. "Natalie," he gasped. Nick gulped a few times and wiped the red sweat from his forehead. Natalie frowned. "Are you okay?" "Yeah." Nick nodded, straightening. "Yeah, I just... had some trouble sleeping. Again." Natalie wasn't convinced--the bright tendril wrapped around her spinal column was pulsing in a way she didn't like--but she let it go. She'd had some trouble sleeping as well, and it was probably Nick's fault. Again. There was a message on the machine when they got downstairs. "Nick, Nat, it's Julian. I need you guys at the clinic as soon as possible. Sooner." Nick was tense as he got dressed. Julian had only told him about his 'problem' three days ago. When they reached the clinic, however, Nick could breathe again, because Julian had something else on his mind. LaCroix and Janette were there again, as well as some unexpected guests. "Nikolai!" "Nicky!" A little blond blur and a taller brunette blur zipped through the air and barreled into Nick, crashing him to the floor. Natalie stifled a laugh. "Gonna introduce me, Nick?" "All right, up! Both of you! Up, up. Nat, these are..." Nick sighed and smiled ruefully. "Three of my brothers. Alexei." The Russian bowed politely. "Daniel." He ruffled the child's hair. "The infamous Daniel?" The fifty-year-old British boy grinned and nodded. "And Étienne Le Morte." Étienne glided over and kissed Natalie's hand. "A great honor, Mademoiselle Docteur. Nicolas speaks of you will his every breath, but even his description of you falls far short of truth." Nick coughed, slightly embarrassed. "Don Juan's in Hell, you know. And exactly what are you doing here?" "Relinquishing my babysitting duties," replied Étienne, not missing a beat. "The little gamins are staying with their father from now on." Nick looked from boy to boy and began to look mildly alarmed. "That still remains to be seen," LaCroix interrupted. "And now, Julian, if you don't mind, why are we here? Again? If you want to inflict your twentieth century torture chamber on the rest of my Family, then by all means, but--" "Why didn't anyone tell me about Janette's period of mortality?" asked Julian bluntly. The vampires looked at each other, some in puzzlement and others in shock. Daniel blinked. "I'm sorry, I think I missed that train. Come again?" "It's not something I like to discuss," Janette said with some difficulty, after a long moment. "Why do you need to know?" "Because it royally screwed up my test results. I've got a one- thousand-year-old vampire on my hands whose cells can't be any older than eighteen months. I thought my samples had been spoiled. And how long have you been having stomach pains?" he asked suddenly. Janette was stunned. "How did you--?" "How long, please, Mademoiselle DuCharme?" The formality put Janette on guard. "Since Nicolas brought me back across," she said icily. "And I don't see what--" "When was this?" "A year ago. Last March. Dr. Gorey--" "A year..." Julian murmured, oblivious. "A year!" He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe it. I've never heard of such a thing!" "What?" Janette insisted. "Nicholas, you're her master now. Listen to her heartbeat. Do you hear anything odd?" Everyone waited in complete silence for about seven minutes before Janette's heart performed its once-every-ten-minute beat. "It's... " Nick proclaimed, amazed. "It's almost as though there were two heartbeats." "There are." Nine pairs of eyes turned to stare at Julian. "She's pregnant." Part Three Julian wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was expecting. Dead silence would probably fit the bill; then again, so would an uproarious outburst from everyone present. What he got was a lot of puzzled looks and condescending smiles. "Your tests must still be inaccurate," Natalie finally said. "I've got to do Nick's over seven, eight times, sometimes. Vampire fluids aren't that stable." Julian shook his head vehemently. "No offense, Nat, but I'm no amateur." "Well, you must have screwed up somewhere," Nick pointed out. His grin faded when he saw that not only was Julian not smiling, but that Janette's face had taken on a grayish tone. "No, Nicolas," she said hoarsely, pressing her hand to her stomach, "I don't think he did." Nick glanced at Natalie and moved to Janette's side. She grasped his hand tightly. "I think... he may be right." LaCroix stared at the doctor. "How?" Julian defiantly stared back; Kai might be able to pin him to the wall with a glance, but Julian wasn't taking any crap from some old Roman despot. His eyes flickered to the two boys, a gesture which said quite clearly: I don't care how old they are. "Étienne," LaCroix said finally. "Take Alexei and Daniel back to the Raven." Étienne, recognizing a dangerous situation, bowed submissively. "Come, boys." "Oh, and Étienne?" "General." "Tell Miranda not to go to sleep until I get back. As long as those two are in the city, I want her on her guard." He didn't miss the way Daniel scowled as he was led away. "How?" he repeated blandly. Julian's face was drawn into a confused frown. "Truthfully? I'm not sure. I don't even know how she became mortal in the first place." He looked around. "Anyone here care to explain that?" *** Janette lay on her back in the narrow hospital cot, with her eyes closed. The dormitory lights were dimmed and the windows were tightly shut, leaving her in a grayish electric twilight. Nick sat beside her in a folding chair, his hand gently covering hers. he wondered, half-expecting someone to answer. "It can never be the same," Janette murmured quietly, breaking in on his thoughts. "The way it was before... It was so dark, Nicolas. When we were brought across, all we knew was darkness and pain and despair. LaCroix was about to die, I was ready to die..." "And I was already dead." And he had been. The Crusader known as Nicolas de Brabant had been killed so many times in the Holy Land, killed by hunger, by thirst, by illness and injury. By enemies, by friends... By sheer disillusionment. <> <> And now, with Julian's warning hanging heavy in his mind, he might yet be dead again. "But now..." Janette opened her eyes and looked at her one-time lover. "Now that I am... pregnant--Ugh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "What a horrible word. Now I understand all those stupid little euphemisms that mortals used to use. Now that I am ... what now?" Nick worried at his lower lip, and rubbed her knuckles fretfully with the ball of his thumb. "What now, Nicolas?" Janette insisted. "What do I do?" Nick grasped her hand tightly, almost frenetically. "Be thankful," he whispered lowly, not trusting himself to speak any louder. "You have had a second chance at mortality, the love of a good man, and now you're going to have his child..." Nick stroked her hair. "Janette, I envy you so much!" She turned away from him. "Go away, Nicolas." "Janette... Janette, please--" "I lost Robert. You took my mortality. This child has been in me for over a year and has who knows what kind of chances for survival. So tell me, Nicolas: what exactly is there to envy?" *** London, England Kai thought. He leaned out the window of his hotel room and looked over the Knightsbridge district. Seventy years since he had set foot in Britain. He'd been away nearly twice as long as he had actually lived in the country. His parchment- covered hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out a small, cheap locket, so old that the fake gilding had been worn away years ago. Kai rubbed the tiny trinket in his long fingers. He had once tried to make a promise to himself, to never revisit a place once he left it. In some cases, the decision to leave and not return had been an easy one. Black Falls held nothing for him but painful memories and bad dreams. But London... living in London had been glorious and tragic, and so mind-bendingly happy that leaving had been like ripping out his spinal cord nerve by nerve. Kai sighed raggedly and turned away from the window. Far away in Toronto, something was wrong with Nicholas, he was certain. Possibly several things. But with the Atlantic Ocean between himself and his master, Kai had no idea just what the matter was. Even Kai's mental abilities were not that powerful. He wandered over to the mini-fridge and browsed through the alcohol. All expensive, all bloodless. He closed the fridge and leaned his forehead on the door. Baltimore and Paris, he had left with no regrets. Brooklyn, Russia, Edinburgh, Vienna... And if he could forget the way into Black Falls so easily, with a little more effort, maybe he could forget the town altogether. But London... Kai slid to the floor. He dropped his head into his hands and dug his thumbs into his temples, while the oval locket rested coldly against his eyelid. Seventy years since he had set foot on English soil. Seventy years since he had opened that locket. Every vampire had something, some possession that they hung onto over the years. Getting rid of the object never crossed one's mind, but one always avoided touching or thinking about it, as if ignoring the item could erase its significance. But that theory never worked in practice. One look, one touch, and all those locked-away memories came pouring back. Kai opened the locket. @}------ London: 1892 The thrill of the hunt, Kai reflected with no little annoyance, was generally more thrilling when one had something to hunt. He had been prowling the streets for hours now, with no success. No doubt the fault of the foul weather and the greasy yellow fog that this great cesspool of a city was so famous for. He thought briefly of abandoning Knightsbridge altogether and flying out to Whitechapel to track down a meal, but discarded that idea as a fruitless one. He preferred hard hunts and expensive tastes to the ease feeding off a doorway drunk. Besides, Nicholas had been in Whitechapel. No matter that it had been four years ago; Kai was not yet willing to face any part of the city his master had been in, or the minute chance that Nicholas might be looking for him. Kai growled in the pit of his chest and licked his canines. If he had still been able to produce saliva, his mouth would have been watering copiously just now. He had not eaten in at least three weeks, and he was "Perhaps the time has come to be a little less judgmental," he reasoned. It was not that he had not any prospective meals. He had seen several. It was simply that no one was striking his particular fancy--none of the mortal scents he had picked up on made the back of his throat tingle with that spicy, prickling sensation that he had been craving of late. But three weeks was a long time to go without eating, even for him. So Kai buttoned up his coat, dropped down to the street, and decided to take one more turn around the wealthy district before packing off to the slums. Knightsbridge was part of his normal hunting ground, so the bobby pounding his beat was easy enough to avoid. He walked with slow, steady purpose, using the vampire's heat-based night vision to maneuver his way through the fog. By now, as late as it was, all the respectable folk of this district were snug in their homes, and the few prospective suppers he had seen from his rooftop perch had long since vanished. Kai's ash-blond head was beginning to droop... when his sharp ears caught the soft sound of a sleeping heart. He was just passing by a small private park, so he hopped over the twelve-foot fence into a bed of roses, tilting his head this way and that, looking for the heart beat and the mortal that went with it. Huddled next to a bush in the impeccably well-manicured park, was a woman, shivering in her sleep. Kai said gleefully to himself, She was small and short, perhaps his own height had she been standing, clothed in decent, fairly fashionable garments and with long brown hair spilling out of a once-tidy bun. Kai knelt beside her and pulled the woman's head into his lap. She did not stir. He whistled softly; the poor girl was very exhausted. He wondered briefly why a well- dressed girl such as she was sleeping under a hedge but he shrugged it off. "It's none of my business." He brushed strands of hair from her white throat with his slender fingers. "Weary, no more," he whispered, his eyes hot and yellow, his fangs aching. "Rest, eternal." He threw back his head, more than ready to finally enjoy his meal-- When he heard the second heartbeat. Kai choked and nearly dropped his prey. That sound had dampened his ardor faster than a cold shower-bath, and now he was stymied. "Damn," he muttered. "There goes breakfast." The woman was pregnant, and Kai didn't need his master's overly heavy morals to tell him that if he took this woman as he had first intended, he would have the infant's blood on his hands as well. Besides, it was not the normal way of vampires to make a habit of killing unborn babies. In fact, it was against the Code, based on the very pragmatic way of thinking that, if vampires were allowed to commit rampant infanticide, eventually they would have no food left. Kai cradled the woman's head on his thighs, pondering what to do. He could just leave her here, he supposed. But it was very cold, and she would likely perish from exposure before dawn. He could flag down that bobby and have her taken to come charitable institution... but she was doubtless unmarried, and the chances of her having her fatherless child taken away was great. Which meant he was left with only one option. Kai stripped off his coat, wrapped the woman in it, scooped her up in his arms and flew off into the night. He took her to his rooms in the Marylebone Road, flying in through an open upper window to avoid the landlady. He would deal with her in the morning. Kai set water to boil over his fire. Through it all, the nameless woman remained asleep. So she would stay that way, Kai applied a very subtle mental suggestion, whispering softly into her ear as he stripped off her muddy, frozen clothes and began to sponge-bathe her. He did not want her waking up in the middle of his ministrations; that would be very awkward. When she was clean, he put her in his bed. She was really quite lovely, with delicate, fine-boned features. Her hair, now that it was clean, was a most beautiful shade of mahogany. Kai submerged his hunger--both for blood and otherwise--and returned to his earlier wonder. She was well-fed, healthy and strong, well-dressed and, if the state of her fingers was anything to go on, not unaccustomed to holding a pen. Well-educated, fairly well-clad. Most likely a servant in a fine house. A governess or a ladies' maid. So the question remained: what had she been doing sleeping in a park? @}----- Kai cut his flashback short with such force that the locket when flying into a corner. Shaking, he crawled into bed, and left it. *** Friday Night "Pregnant?" Tracy repeated incredulously. Nick nodded. Nervously, he flexed his hands on the steering wheel. He was glad to have Tracy back, although he would have preferred less complicated circumstances. Funny how he had gotten so used to riding with someone; four years ago, he might literally have killed to be working alone again. "Nick, I know I'm a very young vampire, so stop me if I'm wrong about this, but: Huh?!?" "That was pretty much everyone else's reaction." "But how? Who?" "Remember last year, we worked that Larouche case? Mario Larouche?" "The Montreal arson investigator who got shot in a seedy motel." "Right." Tracy held up her hand. "Okay, hold it. Before you say anything else... you lied to me on that case, didn't you." Nick held his tongue. "Come on, Knight, we're related now, so 'fess up. Janette DuCharme and Janette DeBrabant are the same person, aren't they?" "Yes." Tracy smiled, a bit smugly. "If you'd figured it out already, why lord it over me?" "Because eating crow is good for the soul. And--oh, what was his name?" "Robert McDonough." "Right. He's the father?" "Yes." "Huh. So she really your sister." Nick sighed. "She was my sister. Now she's my daughter." He glanced over at his partner, who was looking masterfully confused. "I'll explain some other time, Trace. Right now... She's been my sister, my daughter, my lover... my informant, my confidante... my friend. God only knows exactly how this happened, but... I mean, I've heard legends about vampires children, but never to one. I'm worried about her." Tracy didn't say anything. She had met Janette all of once, so she didn't really feel qualified to agree or disagree with Nick's analysis of their relationship. She had to say something but all she could come up with was "Anything else?" A beat. "Nick?" < material. We find a way. I promise...>> <> <> "Everything I ask for, everything I dream of, goes to someone who doesn't want it. Why does the universe hate me?" Nick asked quietly. He didn't wait for an answer, reached for the button to turn on the Nightcrawler, but instead grabbed his police radio as it began beeping wildly. "81 Kilo, 81 Kilo, please respond." "This is 81 Kilo, go ahead." "Homicide at Nester's Convenience." Tracy and Nick shared a startled glance. "That's right next to the grocery store." Nick nodded. "We're on our way." *** "I think this may be the first case in history of a strip-mall serial killer," Julian said, examining the mangled pulp that had once been Thomas Donaldson, Nester's manager. "No robbery, same area, total overkill and--I'll bet--the same damn gun. Detective Vetter?" Julian wafted a bit of scent in her direction. Tracy grimaced. "Probably." Tracy turned away as one of the uniforms got her attention. Julian pulled Nick to one side. "You stick to the proper dosage today?" "I didn't drink any today." Julian growled and peeled off his surgical gloves. "Bag him and take him away!" he shouted over his shoulder. "As for you, I never said anything about going cold turkey." "Frankly, Julian, you scared me." "Well, now I'm un-scaring you." "I didn't need any; I didn't go out in today." He looked around furtively. "How's Janette?" he whispered. "Shaken, but in good health." "You never explained how this could happen." "I assume you know the story of the birds and the bees? Nick, look. I need a little more time before I can give you any definitive answers. She's stable for now. Something will have to be done about her condition soon, but I have to make some calls, call in some favors..." Julian eyed the blond detective suspiciously. "And aren't you showing a bit too much interest in this?" "Janette is my-- She's Family." "Yeah, she told me that story." "I have a right to be concerned!" Nick insisted. Julian just looked at him. "Nick, I appreciate the fact that you are worried about her. But jealousy is a fickle thing--" "I'm not jealous--" "And you have a fiancée who you may be guilty of neglecting." Nick suddenly found the ground very interesting. "I thought so. You didn't even ask where she was. You've both tight as wax lately. And you, sir, have been out of sync ever since Miri and LaCroix tied the knot behind your back. Nick, I am most likely going to need Natalie's help if we're going to bring your... 'relation' out of this situation intact, so please, be nice to her. She can't work with Janette if they're both going to be at each other's throats, okay?" "Okay," said Nick meekly, knowing that Julian was right. "Good." His hard brown eyes suddenly glinted with mischief. "And now, I suggest you hurry home and change." "Change?" Nick repeated. "Your clothes. You've got a reservation for dinner at the Azure--all paid in advance, I hasten to add--in twenty minutes, and I know of one lady coroner who is going to be most disappointed if her favorite homicide detective stands her up." "You sly son of a..." "Don't thank me, thank your partner, I just paid for it. Get moving!" He chuckled and shook his head as Nick took off, the wheels of the Caddy squealing in protest. Tracy joined him, grinning. "You're driving me home, I take it?" *** In the end, Étienne had simply refused to argue with LaCroix. In his mind--as always--he was right. End of story. He had returned to France the night before, leaving Alexei and Daniel with their rightful master. "What are you going to do with them?" Miranda asked. She purposely sat on the opposite side of the couch from her husband, who was as rigid and still as a stature, his elegant fingers in a pyramid before his lips. LaCroix didn't answer. In the firelight, his ice- white alabaster features glowed orange and yellow, but he was still cold, somehow. Miranda was coming to recognize these moods, and learning when to keep her distance. "I know you don't have much... affection for them. But they are yours, Lucien. Now that Étienne has left them in your care..." "You do not have to lecture me on my parental responsibilities, Miranda," said LaCroix shortly, eyes closed. "I know them." Miranda ignored him and pressed on. "I was going to say, you have a responsibility to this to keep the boys in line. You have two immortal children on your hands that are never going to pass puberty. And children who don't age are far more noticeable than adults in the same situation. You can't keep the boys locked up here forever." LaCroix folded his hands in his lap. "Lucien." He sighed. "No, I suppose not. They would wreak havoc on the furniture." "They want nothing more than to please you. Which is more than anyone can say for Nicolas." Miranda inched closer. "He's not going anywhere, Lucien. I think you can afford to stop paying so much attention to him and start worrying about your other sons." "Worry? Worry does not even begin to fathom what I am feeling, ma fleur. "Nearly everyone who comes into contact with them makes the mistake of thinking that Alexei and Daniel are exactly what they appear to be. Little boys. Innocent. Harmless. Innocent they may be, in some ways. Age has nothing to do with how old one may happen to be. But harmless? My laughter threatens to strangle me. They are dangerous. Dangerous to others. And to themselves..." LaCroix opened one eye at last and held out an arm. Gratefully, Miranda snuggled against him. "I never wanted Alexei," he murmured into her hair. "He was quite literally left on my hands. That fool Rasputin couldn't do anything properly." Miranda stiffened. "Oh yes, he is Alexei. Alexei Nikolavitch Romanov, the last of the Romanov dynasty and heir to the throne of Russia. Well, the former throne, anyway. But once he recovered, he turned out to be surprisingly little trouble. His only real fault is that he underestimates his own strength. Daniel, on the other hand..." LaCroix paused gravely. "Daniel was one of those rare mortals about whom I should have taken Nicholas's advice." "To not bring him across?" "That, and Nicholas and I had an agreement, some years ago... In return for not killing Daniel, I was to give him to Nicholas to raise." "Why didn't you?" "I'm not entirely sure. Certainly not out of affection. Arrogance, I suspect. I didn't want to consider the idea that Nicholas might be able to do a better job of it than I." "Arrogance seems to be a common failing among vampires." "I was correct, of course. Nicholas could not raise a successful fledgling if his very life depended on it." Miranda smacked his arm lightly. "What? Kai survived in spite of his master." "If you say so. Why did Nicolas want you to give Daniel to him?" Warning bells went off in LaCroix's head, and he quickly snuffed out any light his mental bond might be throwing on forbidden subject. "Just an old wager," he temporized. Miranda was not fooled, as he knew she would not be, but they respected each other's privacy. It was a curious thing, for LaCroix to be so thoroughly infatuated and dependant on this mere chit of a girl he had only known for three months. But she had intelligence and hard-headed common sense as well as beauty, and Fleur's dreaming soul... and something else. "'Why did you marry her?'" Etienne had asked him. "'I see much in her that is worth holding on to. Any mortal man might kill to have such a woman at his side. But why you?'" To that, LaCroix had answered, simply "'Who else?'" "I suppose this means I shall have to have bunk beds or something installed in the guestroom," he said finally. "And contact Larry Merlin to have the necessary papers drawn up." He chuckled shortly. "The Nightcrawler, married and a father. What will my listeners think?" "Remarried and a father," Miranda corrected. "Have this Merlin make up something about your late wife or your ex-wife or something." "Why bother? This city already thinks the worst of me. Let them notice that Alexei and Daniel look nothing alike." Miranda pondered that. "Maybe, but... What about Nicolas?" "What of him?" "He is also your son. And... he may want you to stand as his father at his wedding." "After the way you and I acted, I may not even be on the invited list." "You will be." LaCroix closed his eyes again. "I'll consider it." *** Groomed and neat and impeccably clad, Nick allowed the Azure's to show him to the table that Julian had reserved. It was in the far corner, half-shrouded by draped curtains, on a unique raised platform that seemed to be part of the renovations that the restaurant had recently completed. Flickering from behind the half-hidden table revealed the presence of candles. Best of all, Nick could smell a delicious aroma, a strange, unique perfume of spiced wine and rich chocolate. It was a scent that Nick knew intimately, and he smiled to see the woman already seated there behind the discreet curtains. "Natalie," he said warmly, grasping the hands she held out to him. Their lips met in a long, cherishing kiss, during which the decided that discretion was the better part of valor and slipped away. When Natalie finally had to pull away to take a breath, Nick drank in the sight of her. Her chestnut hair was loose in waves of curls about her face, and she was wearing the luscious paisley shawl that he had given her for Christmas. "You look..." He couldn't find the words, so he just smiled in defeat and brushed her face with his fingers. Natalie's blue eyes sparkled impishly. "Good enough to eat?" she offered. Nick grinned. "And better." He pulled Natalie's chair out for her and sat down. A waiter materialized from somewhere and poured Nick a glass of water and gave him a menu. "I've got to admit," Natalie confessed, "you have no idea how surprised I was when I found those flowers on my desk. Or how nervous." Nick had no idea what she was talking about. "Oh?" he said, taking a sip from his water glass. He had fortified himself for the encounter with a pint of holy water, so he would have no trouble eating or drinking. Actually, if he was going to be completely honest with himself, he had had pints. Unfortunately, the first pint had ended up in the toilet. "Why?" "Why? Nick. The last time I got a bouquet of flowers with an anonymous note inviting me to dinner at the Azure--" "Okay, I get the idea." That was Julian's fault, but how could he have known? "Well, that certainly wasn't my intention. I'm glad you decided to come." Natalie bit her lip lightly. "Frankly, Nick, I had to." She picked up her fork and prodded the bread roll on her plate. "Nick," she said suddenly, "you're hiding something from me, aren't you?" Boxed into a proverbial corner, Nick could only clench his teeth and nod. It had been so long since he had had to contend with the intimacy of a blood bond... He had known she would pick up on his evasiveness sooner or later, but he had underestimated her tenacity. "Does it have to do with the wedding?" Nick's head shot up, appalled. "No!" "Does it have to do with Janette?" "No." "Will you tell me about it?" Nick opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "Natalie, this is incredibly painful for me, but I swear, it has nothing to do with you. I promise, when I figure out how, I will tell you. But not yet." Natalie regarded him with her great, bright blue eyes. "All right." She held out her hand. Nick grasped it like a lifeline. "I'm here, Nick. If you need me." <> <> "Thank you, Natalie." Dinner was a quiet affair. The only excitement came in the form of a portentous green bottle. "It was sent here this morning," explained the waiter. "Compliments of the doctor." "The doctor?" "Julian," Nick explained, stopping the waiter from opening the bottle. "Thanks," and he handed the man a bill to make him go away. "I think he and Tracy are playing matchmaker. I made the mistake of telling them about this yesterday," he lied. Nick glanced at the label on the bottle. "'Winterborn Winery,'" he read, impressed. "Julian's got good taste. And a deep wallet. 'Shades of Tuscany.' Whew. Expensive stuff." He sat the bottle of bloodwine down, looked around and whispered, "I'm taking home." They had come in their separate cars, so Nick and Natalie walked out to the parking lot, arm in arm. They dawdled a bit, making small talk, enjoying the quiet joy of each other's company and the spark of fire that was kindled by their closeness. They reached Natalie's car, but before she could pull out her keys, Nick kissed her hand and pressed it to his cheek. "I've... been a little preoccupied lately," he confessed after a moment. "I can't imagine why," Natalie said dryly. "I've been neglecting you, Nat, and I'm sorry. But I'm just so... overwhelmed. I'm worried about Janette, and I'm jealous and I'm... afraid. And I can't help her. We don't know anything about how this happened or what’s going to happen to her... and I feel so helpless. "Ever since Kai came back, I've felt so strong. And then you and I... And for the first time, my life felt right. Like I could take on the world and win and come out fighting. Now? I just feel like some helpless bystander at a car wreck. Sickened and fascinated... I can't do anything to help. But I can't turn away." Overcome, Nick hugged his fiancée tightly, burying his nose in her hair. Natalie let him hold her. Then she pulled away. "I'll see you at home," she promised. Then she made her way to her own car, leaving Nick to the Caddy and his own bleak thoughts. *** Uneasily, Alain stood outside an unmarked doorway in the Raven's basement. "Janette?" he called. "Cherie, I know you're in there." A peevish French-speaking voice answered him. "" "" "" "" Alain rocked on the balls of his feet. "One, two..." The door was wrenched open before he got to five. "" she hissed, blue eyes blazing. "Come in, damn you." Alain followed her into her apartment. "I thought you'd still be at the clinic." "Oh, Julian wanted me to stay for some 'observation.' But he had to go to , so..." "So you slipped out." Alain smirked. "Sneaky. I salute you." Janette ignored him. "I've got nothing for you to drink. I've drunk it all." "You shouldn't do that," he replied, concerned, and seated himself with lanky ease on her couch. "Don't preach to me about drinking. At least my blood isn't turning into guacamole. And take your shoes off my furniture." "I'm serious. Alcohol is poison to growing fetuses." "Ah, but it isn't growing." Janette curled herself tightly into an overstuffed armchair. "According to Julian, it's completely dormant. And it's been that way for a year." She threw up her hands, exasperated. "I have a stone in my stomach and no way to get it out!" "A way will be found." "Merde, Alain. You're such an optimist. Just like Nicolas. As long as you 'believe' that it will happen, eventually all will be right with the world. What's wrong with you males?!" Alain's almond-shaped eyes regarded her balefully. "I know what's going on. This is a mood swing, isn't it?" "I am *not* having a mood swing!" Janette shrieked, lobbing a pillow at him. Alain jumped up, grabbed Janette, and pressed her head to his shoulder. She began sobbing. Alain held his sister close, rocking slightly, softly singing an old French lullaby as Janette's thick tears soaked through his t-shirt. "" she choked out, sniffling. "" Alain dabbed at her eyes with a disreputable-looking bandana. "" He tilted her head up to look her in the eye. "But don't think this means I'm going to stop picking up men at the bar." *** Saturday Night Julian flipped up a paper on his clipboard, scanning over his notes one more time. Scattered around his office were four vampires and one mortal woman. "Well?" asked Janette, fed up with the doctor's stalling. He tossed the clipboard aside. "Okay," he said, turning around his desk chair. He straddled it, leaned his chin on the back, and looked Janette directly in the eye as he spoke clearly, coldly, and to the point. "Here is your situation: "The fetus is about four months along in its development, which as I understand it, was when you were brought back across. Now, as I told you, it is alive but it's dormant. As far as I can determine, something about the manner in which you were brought across--perhaps even because it was the second time--it jerked the fetus into a kind of suspended animation. It's synchronized with your bodily cycles. But only up to a point. The stomach pains you've been having are your body trying to rid itself of what it's come to perceive as a foreign mass. One way or another, it's got to come out." He paused to allow them to digest this information, and observed his audience. Nick and Natalie exchanged a deep glance, and Nick put his hand on Janette's shoulder. LaCroix, statue-like, gazed fiercely at nothing in particular. Julian thought. Alain, leaning against a wall, grunted. "So, what're her options? Are you suggesting surgery?" Julian shrugged. "Surgery is definitely an option, yes, and probably the one with the least risk to Janette, although removing a fetus at this stage of development will doubtless kill it." "Well, what other options are there?" Natalie pointed out. "I mean, Julian, what is there that can be done to save this baby? Nothing." The red-headed vampire rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for strength. "The only thing that can be done to recover the fetus is for Janette to carry it to term and give birth." Janette had had enough. "And precisely how am I supposed to do Dr. Gorey? You said yourself, the child stopped growing the moment Nicolas made me a vampire." "That is so." Julian sat up. "Therefore, the only thing to do is to make Janette mortal again." Part Four Once again, he got those contemptuous stares. "And if we could do that," said Natalie, deadpan, "it would be a wonderful thing." "Goddammit, you think I'm joking?" Julian cried angrily. "I wish I was! Nat, vampire bodies can take a lot of punishment, but they're not built to withstand the kind of strain that the fetus is putting on Janette's system. If we don't do something about this child quickly, she may die!" "But we can't her mortal!" Julian stood up, his spine very straight. "I can," he said softly. Janette started, and then winced when Nick's hand tightened spasmodically on her shoulder. "You're... not joking," Nick managed, his voice strangled. "Are you." "No." "Why didn't you tell ?" "Because I've tested it! The treatment is unpredictable. And it's only temporary; it'll last eight months, at most." Julian turned to Janette. "If you want to chance it, I'll give it to you." "Oh, but you can't give it to me? You couldn't even tell me about it?!" "Even if I thought you could handle it, you're in no condition to attempt to cross back," Julian shot. "And you know it." "What exactly does this treatment entail?" LaCroix cut in smoothly, shooting a warning glance, not at Nick, but at Natalie. She put her hand on her fiancé's arm. "Nick." Nick was still furious, but he held his tongue. "It is a series of chemical injections," Julian explained. "They act as jump-starters for the body's systems. Endocrine, circulatory, digestive, respiratory, reproductive... all of them. There is a risk involved, to Janette, not to the fetus. The six injections are administered over a period of six hours. Once they're done, they're done. They only last about eight months and I haven't been able to develop a booster shot. The greatest danger... "The greatest danger comes once the chemicals wear off. Vampires who have undergone this procedure experience a reversion, a regression of sorts. It is extremely violent. The vampire becomes mindless, predatory. They will literally shred the first person they can get their hands on. It's... it's not a pretty sight..." Julian swallowed, trying desperately not to remember. <> "But if you decide to do this, Janette, you don't have to go that far. The child only needs perhaps five more months. Once it's born, I can flush most of the drugs from your system. Then Nick or LaCroix or whomever you choose can bring you back across. But only if you want to. I can't make you mortal permanently. If you'd rather not go through this..." Julian spread his hands out. "Surgery is an open option." His tone was compassionate but eminently serious. "It's up to you, Janette. Do you want the child?" Her eyes dropped to the floor. The tension in the tiny office was almost visible, and to Julian, time seemed to slow down as his patient, colleagues and friends waited for someone to speak. Natalie, Nick and Janette were all in physical contact, forming a queer kind of chain that seemed to give strength to the odd little love triangle. Across the room, Alain was looking wistfully at the group with his almond-shaped eyes, as though he wished to join them but didn't quite dare. LaCroix was staring at Julian, ever and always staring, but whether he was trying to uncover an ulterior motive or just attempting to pick up the doctor's faint scent, no one could say. At long last, Janette looked up. She made eye contact with Nick, whose outraged cobalt eyes softened slightly, and then with Natalie who, unable to deduce the hidden message, just looked confused. Janette looked over at Alain. He shrugged his lanky shoulders and gave her a sickly smile. LaCroix did not meet her gaze, but simply nodded. "Do you want the child?" Julian repeated gently. Janette's expression was one of repressed terror, but immeasurably resolute. "Yes." "Are you absolutely certain?" <> <> <> <> "I am." Julian nodded, his expression suddenly unreadable. "All right. Go home. Get some rest. I'll need another day to mix the doses." *** Nick and Natalie crept quietly back to their loft. Natalie's sister- in-law, Sarah, and her niece Amy were staying at a hotel, but Myra and Jenny had arrived that evening and were installed in the guestroom, so silently, as not to wake their guests, they climbed the stairs to their bedroom. Nick tossed his coat to one side and wrapped Natalie in his arms. "I didn't know," she began. Nick pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know you didn't," he soothed half-heartedly. "You couldn't have hidden something like that from me. I just... can the risks really be so great?" "Why else would he keep this a secret?" Natalie turned around to face Nick. She couldn't see him properly, but she knew he could see her and she knew where his face was. She reached out a hand. He grasped it and pressed it to his cheek. "Nick, don't go back to the clinic tomorrow night." "What--" "This is something Janette has to do herself. Alone." "She's my responsibility, my Family. I--" <> <> <> <> Nick sighed. "Maybe you're right. I'm probably the last person Janette wants to be near right now." *** His hands shook as he measured out the clear, straw-colored liquids into their separate syringes. Julian shut his eyes tightly and forced air into his lungs, trying to tamp down the voices... <> <> <> <> <> <> His hand spasmed, and the syringe exploded. "Christ," Julian swore, his fingers bloody from the sharp fragments. He felt no concern about the drugs seeping into his own system; he knew from painful experience that these chemicals would have no effect on one such as him. He stared at his hands, cut and bloody, covered in tears and yellow chemical residue. <> he sobbed, falling on his mother's body. <> Julian washed his hands and got back to work. *** Sunday Morning The phone rang just as Tracy stepped out of the shower. "Crap." Anticipating a long-distance call from Kai, she threw on a towel and raced into the heavily shuttered kitchen. "Hello? Ka... Dad!" "Hey, honey." "Hi, hi. Um... what's up?" "Oh, nothing much. I just haven't talked to you in a while, that's all. Liz and I missed you at Christmas." Tracy rolled her eyes. She felt awkward enough as it was, speaking to her father, without bringing his 'female acquaintance' into the equation. "Yeah, I had made other plans." She smiled into the receiver. "Sorry about the inconvenience. A friend invited me over; he's had a hard couple of months and I didn't want to turn him down." "'Him,' eh? Does 'him' have a name?" Richard Vetter's voice came over the phone as slightly menacing. Tracy only shook her head; she recognized the tone: it was the 'some punk's making a move on my little girl?' voice. "'Him's' name is Julian. He works down at the Coroner's Office. if you're really interested, he was the one who patched me up after that little car crash back in January." "Oh, so he's a Good Samaritan?" "He's a friend, Dad. It's not like we're dating or anything." Her father chuckled. "Okay, Tracy, okay. Well, I just wondered if you'd like to go out for breakfast this morning." Tracy worried at a canine tooth with her tongue. "Um, thanks, Dad, but no. No, I can't." "Why not?" "Oh, because..." "Because I had a long night. I was out doing errands--and it was pretty nasty out last night. I think I may have come down with something, so I really just want to go to sleep, okay?" "Okay, honey," her father soothed. "I'll just take a rain check. You feel better, all right?" "All right, Dad." "I love you, Tracy." "Love you, too, Dad." Tracy hung up her phone guiltily. As she dressed for bed, she thought about the conversation. Lying about the reason for not going to breakfast bothered her only minorly; she had no reason to think that her father would believe her, or if he did, would keep his mouth shut. What really bothered Tracy was that she had not told her father, someone she truly loved and trusted, even when he exasperated her to the point of self-immolation, about how she really felt about her 'Good Samaritan.' She had told Kai, but she couldn't tell her own father. She hugged her knees to her chest, gnawing on her lower lip. Her eyes fell on a framed photograph on her nightstand. It was of herself, when she was twelve, and her father. They were at the beach. The sun was shining and they were both smiling. Before, when Tracy looked at that picture, it had always lifted her out of whatever funk she might have been in. It always made her happy. Now, it was like looking at a picture in a museum. Nostalgia, detachment, and a little regret. "I guess I'm not that little girl anymore." *** Someone did go out for Sunday brunch that morning. The rising sun found a bemused Nick Knight in a cozy, bustling little diner, surrounded by chattering females. He had Natalie on his right side and Myra Schanke on his left, Sarah Lambert across the table, two little girls thrown into the mix, and a stack of magazines on the table in front of him. Nick caught Jenny Schanke's eye and mouthed "Help!" The little girl giggled. "Myra, I appreciate the offer, but honestly, Nick and I don't want to do anything elaborate." "Oh, nonsense, Natalie," insisted Myra, who had ignored their requests for suggestions and had appointed herself their official wedding planner. "After all, this is the first wedding for both of you, and you'll want it to be something to remember." Natalie heard in her mind, Natalie gave him a mental shrug. "Actually, Myra," said Nick casually, spreading butter on his pancakes, "this is my third marriage." Myra's eyebrows went up like a rocket. "Your " she repeated. Natalie smothered a grin. Myra the gossip queen would be on the phone the moment she got home. "Nick, I had no idea," Sarah commented. "I don't broadcast the fact. I only mean that I've done this before; I know from experience that all the fuss isn't necessary." "Yes, but Natalie--" Myra was cut short by the two girls, who had hit things off famously. "What were their names?" Amy and Jenny asked simultaneously. "What were they like? What happened?" "I married right out of high school," Nick began carefully. "Her name was Alyssa." <> <> <> <> "But she died of... leukemia, three months before our first anniversary." "Oh, Nick," said Sarah sadly. "I'm so sorry." Nick shook his head. He would accept no pity for Alyssa's death--whom he had killed--and certainly not from Sarah Lambert, who had lost her husband at Nick's hands. Both Alyssa and Richard Lambert had died because of him. They were only two of the many deaths he would never forget or forgive himself for. "It was a long time ago. And she'd been sick for years, so it wasn't entirely unexpected. "My second wife and I were married for about ten years, but we eventually grew apart. We went our separate ways and we're still good friends." "Is she happy that you're getting married again?" Amy asked, curious. Nick smiled wanly and put butter on his pancakes. <> "I wouldn't go that far." "Have you thought about who you're going to invite, Nick?" Myra asked, getting back down to business. "And you, Natalie?" She pulled a pad of paper and a pen out of her massive handbag. "Well, I don't have that many people. Just Sarah and Amy, and a few people from work. Nick?" "The same. A few people from work and some... old friends." "Are you inviting... um... you know who?" Nick took a deep breath, and buttered his pancakes. "You mean my father?" Myra's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Don always said you didn't have much in the way of family." "What he probably said was 'Knight's got no family to speak of.'" "Well..." "My father and I didn't get along very well in the past. We still don't. But we're making an effort to reconcile, so... yes, Nat. The General is on the list." *** Sunday Afternoon Miranda was peaceably curled up in the armchair in the sun-filled living room, deep in a book. LaCroix was sleeping and so were the boys. At least, that was the idea. "Daniel?" she called softly, seeing the small figure. "Is something wrong?" "New bed. Can't sleep. Don't guess but you might close the curtains?" Miranda covered the windows thoroughly, and Daniel stepped out of the shadows. "Thanks, luv." The girl grinned. "So much for losing the Cockney accent." "Comes back at the oddest times. But I can smother it when I 'as to." Daniel plopped himself on the couch, and Miranda had the chance to examine him more closely. He was a short, skinny boy, with a head of thick, golden-blond hair and an innocent expression in his dark eyes, one that could easily fool someone less experienced than Miranda in the ways of vampires and small boys. She had never had any brothers, but she had baby-sat for years, and she honestly was not sure which species was the more devious, vampires or boys. Daniel looked her over in his turn, in a way she did not like. "Can't believe the Ol' General got married. What spell'd he put on you?" Miranda shrugged. "I've known Lucien for years." And when you got right down to it, that was no lie. "He asked, I accepted." "Hmm." Daniel frowned, trying to equate his master with this pretty girl. "And you don't care that he's a... that 'e is what 'e is?" "No." "You like vampires, then? That's your thing?" "I like my husband, boy." Daniel giggled, an unnerving sound. "'Boy'? Luv, I'm old enough to be your grandfather." "Maybe. But you're not my grandfather. And maybe that's the problem." Miranda seated herself next to Daniel and put her arms around his shoulder. The old boy stiffened. "You've never been with a woman before, have you?" Daniel squirmed. "Étienne, well... He's old-fashioned, y' see. 'E wouldn't let me." Miranda nodded. "Let me tell you something, Daniel. Lucien is not nearly as 'old-fashioned.' Stay on his good side, and he'll turn his eye away from you just long enough... you understand?" Eyes wide, Daniel nodded vigorously. "But if you try and have sport with me..." She trailed off. "Lucien has decided that you and Alexei will stay here with us. That means both Lucien and I are responsible for you." "You?" Daniel scoffed. "You're not our master. You're not even a vampire!" "He is having papers made up that say you and Alexei are his sons. His legal wards. And since I am his wife, that makes you my stepsons." Miranda's eyes softened. "How old were you when your mother died, Daniel?" "Nine." "Did you like living with Étienne and Shosha?" "They were good to me. They taught me a lot. Étienne's a lot of fun, like a big brother. Shosha... she's just like the General. Standoffish, kinda, all high and mighty, you know? And the last couple years, they had fledglings of their own, and Shosha's got this little mortal boy she's bringing up... It was like living with a good auntie and uncle. They cared and were nice enough, but..." "But they weren't parents." "Right." "Daniel, look at me." Reluctantly, he did so. "You've got a crush on me, haven't you?" "Ye-es. I couldn't 'elp it, Luv." "Daniel, I can't be that kind of girl for you. I'm LaCroix's wife. You're his son. I can be a mother, for you and Alexei. But that's all." She eyed the small boy sternly. "Understood?" "Yes, mum," said the British vampire meekly. He got up. "Can I go back to bed now?" "Of course." "Miranda?" "Yes?" "Will you... could you help Alexei and me unpack tonight? We don't have much, but it's a small room for the two of us, and we've got the rearrange the furniture. If you don't mind?" "I'll help." Daniel's wide grin split his face. "Thanks, Luv." Miranda watched him go back into his bedroom. Her smile faded. "Oh, boy," she murmured. "This is going to be harder than I thought." *** Sunday Evening "You didn't mention his name," Natalie teased. Myra and Jenny had gone home, and Amy and Sarah were safely ensconced in their hotel room, so Nick had his loft back and could take the bloodwine out of hiding, and he and Natalie could return to one of their favorite activities: lying on the couch in front of the fireplace. "I wasn't about to," Nick shot back. "Mention the name 'Lucien LaCroix' in casual conversation? I might as well shout 'I am a cult follower!' from the top of the CN Tower, because according to most parents, that's what listening to the Nightcrawler amounts to." "Captain Reese is going to flip when he finds out that the man Toronto loves to hate is the father of one of its most popular detectives." Nick groaned. "He'll drop me back to pounding a beat." "Nick, is something else bothering you?" Natalie hurried to continue when Nick began to protest. "I mean, you buttered your pancakes three or four time. You put so much butter on your pancakes, it was practically pancakes with your butter. And then you didn't even eat them!" "Just nerves, I guess." Nick shrugged sheepishly. "I... I really have never gotten married before. Not like this. When I married Alyssa, it was all very rapid. The courtship, the ceremony... the marriage. This time, I'm not afraid. I don't have to worry about your safety, about being with you. So, I think--if you don't mind--that I know some people who could take care of almost everything for us. And Étienne has already offered to do the reception. Not that I don't appreciate Sarah's help. And Myra, well, she barks much and bites little. But..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he ran his hand through Natalie's hair. "I want this to be wedding. And I want my Family here," he added, very softly. "They're the only family we have." Natalie, her head on his chest, listened carefully to Nick's quiet heart and lungs. "Well, I guess that takes care of the caterers... Nick, I'm marrying . Not Family, and not the ceremony or the reception. The last thing I want is for this wedding to be more complicated than it really has to be. I want Sarah and Amy and Grace to be there. And Tracy. And maybe Julian, just because he'll pout if we don't invite him." "He pouts?" "Like a high school beauty queen. Beyond that, invite whoever--or whatever--you want. Mortal, vampire, Cadillac--" Nick snorted. "--I don't care. And if your brother wants to help with the arrangements, that's fine too. As long as he can manage simple." She loved it when Nick laughed, especially when her ear was on his chest, because it was a beautiful sound. Even now, he still didn't laugh nearly often enough. "What's so funny?" "Simple won't be a problem for Etienne. Unfortunately, his idea of simple doesn't always mesh with anyone else's." "Maybe we should just follow Miranda and LaCroix's example." Nick chuckled again. Then suddenly, he began to tickle her. "Ah! Nick! Aw, come on, Nick, stop it!" But she was laughing so hard, she couldn't get the words out. "Nick, I--" "Whoa!" they shouted as they fell off the couch. Giddily, Nick kissed her. Natalie responded more forcefully than he had expected, calling the vampire so eagerly that Nick's yellow eyes burned the backs of his eyelids. His fangs descended and he kissed her... They ended up next to the fireplace, with Natalie drowsing in the crook of Nick's arm. "Who are you going to invite?" she asked. "Captain Reese. And Captain Stonetree, he should be there." "Nick, that's great. He'll be thrilled." "All my Family that are in the city. Etienne and Shosha. Maybe one or two others, I have to make sure they're still alive." "Mortal or vampire?" "Both." "Oh, boy," Natalie chuckled. "We're going to need two separate wet bars." a little voice in the back of his head whispered. But she hadn't seen the secret when he took her blood, and the moment was so perfect, so... normal and peaceful, that he just couldn't spoil it. Nick promised himself. *** Impatiently, Janette waited in the Corvina clinic's dormitory. The bed was no more comfortable than it had been a week ago. Her companion paced the floor in front of her cot. "Alain, stop it." "I can't help it," Alain returned, severely agitated. "I just can't help it! I don't like doctors to begin with, but I'm here; I don't trust this Gorey at all! Yet I'm here! You're pregnant with a dead mortal's child--and I'm here playing the surrogate daddy! The universe is even more screwed up than I am!" He stopped his ranting long enough to sigh. "I'm sorry. You're the last person I should be complaining to." "You don't have to stay," said Janette stiffly. "Though I... I want someone here. I don't want Nicolas, and LaCroix wants no part of this. So I guess you will have to do." "Cherie. I'm flattered." "Don't let it go to your head." Alain smiled lopsidedly. "I shall do my best. But you know how fragile my ego is. Damn thing expands at the slightest inducement." "And don't exaggerate. You're not 'playing the surrogate daddy.' You're only here to keep me from losing my nerve." Alain knelt down and touched her hand. "Are you really that nervous?" "I... I don't know." Janette's eyes dropped to where Alain's fingers rested lightly on her hand. The tentative contact was a comfort to her, though she did not know quite why. Alain had always been the court jester of the Family, lazy, indolent, good-for-nothing Alain the Gypsy. He was certainly the least favorite of the sons of LaCroix, a vampire who, with the exception of Nicolas, preferred his daughters to his sons. "My heart is no longer cold. I feel something... What, I can't say." Alain stroked the back of her hand with his fingertips. Julian came into the dormitory with a tray upon which rested six full syringes. "Are you ready, Janette?" She nodded. Julian rolled up her right sleeve, swabbed a patch of skin with an alcohol-laced cotton ball, and inserted a catheter into Janette's arm. Alain swallowed, slightly queasy. Julian picked up the first syringe. *** Six Hours Later Pressing the stethoscope to Janette's heart, Julian checked her blood pressure. "How do you feel?" "Cold," she whispered, struggling to breathe. Her brain was telling her body that it needed oxygen, but her lungs were only half- functioning. "She's sweating," Alain reported. "I can see that." Julian took the stethoscope out of his ears. "Janette, listen to me. You're doing very well. We've one more injection to go. Can you hold out that long?" He waited until his patient nodded. "Good girl." Julian inserted the last needle into the catheter and plunged the syringe home. Janette's body stiffened and she went rigid as a board. "What's wrong, what's the matter?" Alain shouted. "It's the last of the drugs taking effect. Calm down! Wait." Alain's face was drawn with terror and... was it worry? Julian wondered. He was clutching his head in agony, as the psychic filial bond broke for the second time. Alain's close proximity was making the break all the more painful. Gradually, Janette's tense formed relaxed. Julian grabbed her wrist. "Her pulse is good." He put the stethoscope to her lungs. "And her respirations are normal." Alain pressed her hand. "Her skin..." he croaked, "it's warm. Janette, cherie, how do you feel?" "Sick," she managed. Then Janette gasped. "Something kicked me." Gently pressing her abdomen, Julian grinned. "I should hope so. If he's kicking already, I don't think we have anything else to worry about." "He?" "Yes. Congratulations. It's a boy." *** Monday Night Nick picked up his phone and, reading carefully from the letter in his hand, dialed a long-distance number. He waited for someone to pick up. "Professor Toeffler-Bäumer, please?" he said in German. "Speaking." "Lili?" "Yes, who--Nick! Nick Thomas!" "It's Nick Knight, now, actually." "Oh my God, Nick. It's so good to hear your voice. Oh my God.... How are you?" "I'm fine. Before you say anything else, I've got a favor to ask you." "Anything, Nick, you know that." Nick grinned into the phone. "Come to my wedding in September?" *** A loud knock startled the stocky, middle-aged man out of his studies. Blinking his wide-set blue eyes, he closed his book and opened his front door. "Good evening, Partington." "Kai Thorn, as I live and breathe." Kai blinked. "You don't." "Mere details," scoffed Partington, waving away the rebuttal. "Come in, man. You're here on business, of course." Kai followed him into the library. "Now, chum, can't I just come over for a friendly chat?" Partington served the same purpose in England that Gulliver had served in America: a historian of vampires and vampire 'culture.' But it never failed to amaze him how different from this palace had been Gulliver's sanctum of information. His clumsy American friend had been housed in the basement of a Brooklyn brownstone. But this house... Suffice to say, to a book lover like Kai, it was an embarrassment of riches. "We're not so close that you'd hop the Pond for just for a cuppa." Partington pulled out a ledger and poised a pen over a fresh sheet. "Now, then: who, what, where and when. I don't care about the why." "Conroy, vampire, London, 1920s. I need to find out where he is now." Partington scribbled the notes and tossed the ledger aside. "Honestly, I don't know why I bother." He ran a hand through his grayish-brown hair. "You've always been one of my best customers. You know the drill." "Right," said Kai dryly. "I start in the twenties, you start in the nineties, and we'll meet somewhere in the middle. Professional courtesy." He might not have visited London for the fun of it, but there had been some years when he had seen more of Partington than he had of his daughter. The two men began to paw through the volumes for the information Kai sought, and they exchanged some pleasantries. "I do want to get back Canada as soon as possible," Kai confessed. "I have a new fledgling I had to leave with friends, and I'm a trifle worried about her." "A fledgling, finally? Cheers. How's Miri?" "Married," Kai replied shortly. Partington glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You don't approve?" "Not my place to approve. I expected it. Just wasn't prepared enough for it, I guess. "Partington," Kai said suddenly, noticing a certain stack of books that was located conspicuously away from the other volumes, "what are those books? They all look the same." "Oh, they are. It's a special commission I've been working on since the fifties." "Really. What's the book?" "Some obscure old Sanskrit manuscript. Actually, I was commissioned by your 'grandmaster,' I think." "LaCroix?" "Indeed. He wants every copy of that book that I can possible find. So far, I've averaged about one per decade. I'm tracking down one more as we speak and I think it's the last one. He's promised me a very large sum for these manuscripts, but honestly, I think I may turn the money down." "Oh? Any reason in particular?" "The challenge has been payment enough. I've fought some German professor for four of those five manuscripts, and let me tell you, she's a scrappy one. It's been a fun fifty years." "I'll bet. Tell me, Partington," continued Kai easily, "do you read ancient Sanskrit?" "Yes, enough to get by." "Have you read those manuscripts?" "Oh, yes. They're fascinating. Books of 'miracles,' or some such nonsense. I doubt any of them could actually be managed. Rubbish, really. If miracles could be performed by ordinary mortals, there would be no need for saints such as yourself." Kai scowled. "But they'd be gold and ivory to a scholar. If they were mine, I'd be tempted to offer them to the Bodliean Library at Oxford." "Was there anything in the text that suggested a cure for vampirism?" "Oh, Kai," said Partington, disappointed. "You're not still on about that, are you?" "No, no, I've given up all hope of that. All desire as well. I'm just curious." "Well, in that case... no. There is no cure for vampirism in the Abarat. LaCroix mentioned that same legend, though." "Any idea what started it?" "I've a fairly good idea. The only time vampirism is mentioned in the text is in a recipe for a potion used to coat wooden stakes before plunging them into a vampiric heart. The concoction is supposed to allow the soul of the vampire to be released after death. A bad translation is all that you'd need to start that idiotic pipe dream. Otherwise, no. There's nothing in the Abarat to concern us." *** "Nicolas!" Ecstatic, Miranda threw her arms around her... "I don't know what I'm supposed to call you anymore," she pouted. "Brother, grandfather, stepson..." "A vampire family tree could confound the most determined genealogist," Nick agreed, hugging her back. He held her at arm's length and looked her over. "You look well. He's taking good care of you?" "In his way." Miranda returned the probing stare. "And you look... distressed. Is something wrong, Nicolas?" "Something's always wrong," he murmured, rubbing at his sapphire ring. Miranda reached up a hand and traced the two puckered brown scars on Nick's face. He froze, seeing in her eyes the same expression that he had often seen in Kai's snow-grey ones, the distant yet somehow sharp gaze that saw to the very bottom of his psyche. "How, ah... How are the boys?" "Gone, for the moment. Lucien has them both out somewhere over the city. He's taking them to see Larry Merlin or Aristotle or some such person who will give them birth certificates and last names. And if we're very fortunate, both boys will return to this apartment intact." Nick put his hands behind his back and stifled a grin. "Do I detect a hint of frustration?" he asked innocently. "That's a mild word." "Are they giving you any problems?" "Not really, but..." Miranda sighed. "Can I get you something to drink, Nicolas?" "No, thanks, I've got to get to work." Nick pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Will you give this to LaCroix? It's not formal, but I wanted him to know--" "I'll tell him. Oh, and Nicolas?" Nick turned. Miranda smacked him. "Ouch," said Nick ruefully. "But I had that coming, didn't I?" *** Nick slammed down his radio. "The strip mall again?" Tracy asked. "Yes," her partner said shortly. This time it was the liquor store. A customer. "Lucy Delmonte, thirty- two," Natalie read off the victim's driver's license. "How did she die?" "Offhand, I'd say someone turned her into spaghetti sauce." Tracy pretended to gag. "Any witnesses." "Nope. Again. But the forensics boys found a bloody glove." *** Tuesday Evening Someone was knocking on his office door, but Captain Joe Stonetree didn't look up. "Unless you're here to tell me I've won an all- expenses paid trip to Honolulu, I don't want to here it." "Come on, Cap'n, I'd be the last person to offer you a trip to Hawaii." Stonetree's head flew up so fast, it almost bounced off the ceiling. "Nick Knight! Why, you son of a bitch." Nick grinned and stuck out his hand. "Nice to see you too, Joe." Stonetree wrung his hand. Nick held out an envelope. "What's this?" "An invitation." He bounced on the balls of his feet as Stonetree read the makeshift invitation. "Well, all I can say is: it's about God-damn time." Nick ducked his head like a shy schoolboy. "Yeah, well... You'll get a real, formal invitation in a couple months. I--we just wanted to let you know." Joe Stonetree smiled. "Thank you, Nick." *** "Hey, Julie, you up for a game of poker next weekend?" Julian slowly rotated his head around to face the speaker. "Grace? I-- I'm sorry, are you being *nice* to me?" He pressed a hand to his heart. "My God, I--I think I feel faint!" Grace Balthazar smacked her colleague's head with a file. "Hey, I can admit when I'm wrong. I've given you a hard time, and I'm sorry." "Eh, I'm used to it." Julian shrugged. "Everybody gives the Yank the runaround. Something about having a weird vibe." "Yeah, well, weird vibes help pass the time in this place. You wanna come?" Julian fiddled with his pen. "I've got to put in a couple volunteer hours at my clinic," he began, "but yes. Thank you. What do you play for? Pennies? "Potato chips." "You've got yourself a player." "Great! Oh, here's the DNA workup from the bloody glove they found at the pet store." "Thanks." Julian flipped opened the file and began skimming through the information. This would come in very handy, once Nick and Tracy produced a suspect... His eye focused on the DNA chart. "Grace? Where'd they put that glove? Do we still have it?" She pointed to a locker. "It's going back to evidence in the morning." Julian unlocked the cabinet and retrieved the bloodstained blue glove. Making certain Grace was involved in her work, he pulled the glove from its protective bag, and sniffed. @}----- A loud bash! on the door pulled Julian out of unpacking his boxes. He brushed off his hands, listening. He and his patient, Kai Thorn, had just moved up to Toronto from New York a few weeks earlier. Julian was just getting his clinic set up and it was by no means official yet, but word had spread that there was a doctor above the new bookstore with the funny name, who would do patch-up jobs cheaply and with no questions. The fellow trying to knock down Julian's door was probably a small-timer with a slug in his leg. BASH! Julian wrenched open the door. "Quiet," he snarled. "I've got a sleeping patient upstairs. Come in." The small, dark-haired man was bleeding from a long knife cut on his left arm. Julian sat him down and began cutting away the shirtsleeve. "You got a name?" "Bernard," the man whispered. There was something mouse-like about him, Julian decided, mouse-like but tight-wired, and he delicately probing the man's mind, getting him to open up. "Bernard Fergusson." He'd recently lost his job at a local strip mall. "And how'd this happen, Bernard? You get into a fight?" "I did it myself." Julian pursed his lips as he sewed the wound up. It was unusual to find a male her practiced compulsive self-mutilation, but not unheard of. But the wounds were not normally of this type. "Why?" "I wanted to see color." A quick scan of Bernard's brain gave Julian the rest of the information he needed. "You're colorblind. Is that why you lost your job?" "I couldn't stock things right. They thought I was just lazy. Sometimes, some things... I don't know if they're grey or green or red... But blood. That's always red..." @}----- Julian stared at the glove in disgust, and dropped it back into its bag. *** "Partington, what's this?" Kai turned to the historian with a tattered old volume in his hands. A faded gold '20s' was stamped on the spine. "Huh? Oh. I'm sorry, I'd thought I got rid of all of those." "What is it?" Kai thumbed through the pages. They were filled with random newspaper clippings and old photographs. "A scrapbook?" "Yes, I kept scrapbooks for decades. A bit like your friend Holmes was wont to do." Kai chuckled. "Only I could be friends with a fictitious character. You stopped keeping them?" "No. But I took them out of the public collection." Partington shrugged, climbed down from his ladder. "They're not particularly useful to anyone else; just haphazard bits of flotsam that catch my attention." He rubbed his chin. "Actually... there might be something in there to interest you. I remember stuffing an article in there about a man who died from a drug overdose in some nightclub. The police were looking for a mysterious Mr. Conroy who was possibly involved." "Intriguing." Partington took the scrapbook and turned the old pages carefully. "Let's see... 'Nosferatu'... 'Tutankhamun'... Flappers... Ah, here it is! 'At about two o'clock Saturday morning, an unidentified young man died at the Lotus Club, apparently of an overdose of heroin.' I saved the article because it makes mention of a 'curious set of puncture marks' on the fellow's neck." He flipped the page and handed the book back to his client. "Here. There's a picture of the poor sod." Kai stared at the picture in horror. The scrapbook fell from his suddenly numb fingers and he shuddered as though someone had just punched him in the stomach. Concerned, Partington touched his old friend's shoulder. "Kai? Is something wrong?" He looked at the picture pasted in the crumbling scrapbook. "Did you know him?" "Yes." Kai was unable to strangle the thick tears that blazed dark red trails down his cheeks. "He was my son." *** Fergusson looked up from scrubbing his shirt. His head whipped this way and that frantically, but there was no one in his dingy apartment. Licking his dry, chapped lips, he turned back to his laundry... A whooshing sound filled his ears, and suddenly, Fergusson found himself slammed up against his kitchen wall with a hard claw-like grip wrapped around his windpipe. "Dr... Dr. Gorey?!" "Bernard," Julian growled. He held up a plastic bag. "Recognize this?" Fergusson's drab-colored eyes fixed inexorably on the bloody blue glove. "The cops found it at the liquor store. At the strip mall. Where you dropped it." "I don't..." He gagged. Julian tightened on his throat. "Yes, you do know what I'm talking about, Bernard. What's more, you've got a motive. Two, in fact. Number one: You lost your job at the mall and then you lost it completely. Number two: You told me yourself: blood is always red." "I didn't--Ack!" "Don't try and lie to me; I can the blood. It's all over you." "I couldn't stand it anymore," Fergusson wheezed. "I had to see some color!!!" Julian thought, sickened. "You're... you're gonna take me to the police now?" "No." He loosened his grip on Fergusson's collar a fraction. "I'm not going to turn you in." "You... You're not?" "Well, that's up to you. See, I need someone for a project that I'm working on. A volunteer." "A guinea pig." Julian shrugged. "If you like. But what choice do you have, Bernard? Hey, it's either me or Metro Homicide. And I know for a fact that they're not too pleased with you just now. I promise, I'm not going to put anything in your head. And I think I can fix your eyes." Part Five April, 1997: Thursday Morning Very slowly, spring was coming to Toronto. The days were lengthening in small increments, gradually making life difficult for the city's undead citizens. In the depths of the Raven, both staff and strays were settling down for a good day's sleep. Above the nightclub, a serious discussion was taking place. "I'm going to have to take her off the payroll," LaCroix decided. "I can't have a pregnant mortal on the staff, not even temporarily. That would be an open invitation to hunt." Alexei looked up from the chessboard. It was inlaid with ebony and gold-flecked white marble squares, and the chessmen were of carved onyx and crystal. The set was one of his most prized possessions, and one of the few personal items he had brought from Paris. "But sir, couldn't you protect her?" LaCroix picked up his king and rolled the black piece between his palms. He hated to admit it, but he was getting used to having the two boy-vampires around. That didn't mean he it; only that he was accustomed to them being underfoot and prying into what LaCroix saw as private business. "No," he said finally, his voice flat. "I could not." Daniel stopped playing with his fire truck. "There's no precedent for something like this. Janette is a mortal now; as far as the Community is concerned, she's fair game." "Taking her off the staff is one thing," Miranda commented from her chair. "But will you make her move out? I agree, she's not safe here." "Of course she's not safe here! Miklos and Alain have both come to me to report... 'incidents' concerning Janette and overzealous patrons." Miranda frowned. She and Janette certainly were not close, but the older woman had come to her once or twice to discuss certain health issues that one simply did not mention to male companions with any sort of comfort, and they had developed a kind of working relationship. But Janette had never mentioned to Miranda that she was having harassment problems. "Has Janette said anything to you about that?" "No. She has avoided speaking to me altogether." LaCroix sighed and checked Alexei. "I think she's afraid of me." His wife shrugged. "So am I." "I second that." "And me." "All right!" Annoyed, LaCroix reached for his drink. He savored the flavorful vintage flowing over the root of his tongue. "I mean, she seems afraid of . Lately, every time I'm within fifteen feet of her, she gets a look on her face that reminds me of a cornered wolf. She probably thinks I'm planning some atrocity on her child." Daniel rolled his truck back and forth, and asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Are you?" LaCroix said nothing, only exchanged a very serious look with Miranda. Within their blood bond, a conversation took place that neither Alexei nor Daniel had any awareness of. At last, one of LaCroix's lips twitched. He picked up an onyx knight and checkmated Alexei's crystal king. "She must be removed from the Raven, and quickly. For the safety of all concerned." *** Thursday Night Natalie was having a quiet night. Quiet being a fairly relative term when one lived with a vampire and was planning a wedding in five months. But when one worked in a morgue, quiet was not an uncommon occurrence. Natalie bent over her microscope, checking samples from her fiancé. The abnormally-shaped vampire blood cells--that she had dubbed 'V-cells'--were still present in Nick's blood, in depressingly large numbers. She sighed; she had hoped that when Nick began Kai's regiment of holy water, it would help on his long road to mortality. But so far, no such luck. Someone coughed. "Hey, Julian, what's up? You look awful." "Thank you so much." Julian yawned. "Been working on a big project when I'm not here; it's taking a bit of a toll. I'm gonna be on vacation for a few months, thank the myriad gods, so I'll be able to fit some sleep into my schedule." "A few months? You've barely been here a year; how did you manage that?" "Oh, I've got our supervisor in the palm of my hand. I just wanted to ask you to keep an eye on Janette while I'm gone, if she'll let you. I'll leave you the keys to the clinic and the drawer with her files." "Okay," said Natalie reluctantly. "But you're right: she doesn't want much to do with me or Nick right now." "She doesn't want much to do with anyone right now. But I know of a female vampire physician I'm going to try and bring on board." Julian grinned brightly. "Best of both worlds." A strange cast came over his features. "How's Nick?" "Oh, he's..." Natalie sighed. "He's acting very strange. Even for Nick. He's got a problem, but exactly what it is, he's hiding from me. But he won't tell me what it is. Why do you-- Julian?" Julian had gone rigid, and his lip was beginning to curl up in a growl. "I don't want to pry into your personal business, Natalie, but I suggest that you Nick tell you what his problem is. And very soon." And without another word, he angrily stormed out, leaving Natalie to wonder if being made into a vampire always led to massive mood swings. Then her phone rang. *** Three blocks away from the Vanderdecken Plaza, Tracy began gagging. Alarmed, Nick pulled the car over to the side of the road. Tracy opened her door and almost fell out, trying vainly to vomit. Nick held her shoulders tightly as the retching became choking. "Trace, what is it?" "The smell... Nick, it's horrible..." "I know. I know, I can smell it, too." It was a disgusting smell, a vile something that he could not identify and did not want to. For Nick, it was gross enough, but Tracy's incredible sense of smell was incapacitating her. "Trace, you stay here. I'll go on to the mall." "Where's Tracy?" asked Natalie, not looking up. "Throwing up behind my car," replied Nick succinctly. He swallowed and pressed a hand to his nose and mouth. "My God, the stink..." "Huh?" "There's a smell here... A scent that I've never smelled before. It's... unnatural." "Well, that's as good a word as any. Take a look at the newest member of the strip mall stiffs." Natalie pulled back the sheet. "Mother of God," Nick murmured. It was a woman, but that was the only identifying feature that could so far be determined. She had been chewed to death. An illuminating light flashed behind Nick's eyes. He grasped Natalie's shoulder and tugged her away from the body hastily, shaking his head. "I don't think this is the same killer." *** "A nachzehrer?" LaCroix stood up from his chair with such force that he knocked the microphone off its stand. "Are you certain?" "LaCroix, I don't know what it is. I don't know anything that leaves behind a stink like that. But the woman was chewed to pieces, and not by any ordinary animal." The General put a quizzical index finger to his lips and closed his eyes. Nick stepped closer. "If it is a nachzehrer, something has to be done quickly. A corpse-chewing vampire could endanger us all." "Fear for the safety of your own, Nicholas? How communal of you." Thoughtfully, LaCroix replaced his equipment. "If what is killing these mortals is indeed a nachzehrer, we must take care of it quickly or the Enforcers will have to be notified." Nick nodded. "I know," he admitted reluctantly. He looked out the sound booth's window, on to the main dance floor of the Raven, strobe lights and chains. "And so will they," he added. "Business will suffer." "I don't see Janette." "Nor will you. For her own safety, I decided it was best for her to find other accommodations. Some of our newer patrons paid her and her new heart beat a little too much attention. And after all, once he's born, the boy can't remain here. He'd be someone's breakfast within a week." Nick was dumbfounded. "He?" LaCroix studied his son carefully. "Yes, Nicholas. Janette is carrying a boy." "She... didn't tell me." "You and she have been keeping an atrocious number of secrets from each other lately." "Where is she?" "Another secret. It's not my place to tell you." LaCroix paused. "She also didn't tell me." His eyes dropped to the floor for a fraction of a second, a clear sign that the omission troubled him deeply. "She had to go, of course. As her condition becomes more obvious, she will be less able to protect herself." "Unlike Miranda," Nick interjected dryly. "She seems to be doing well for herself here." "Yes, she had very little trouble with the patrons. I swear, she holds them off by the sheer strength of her will." He and Nick turned to the window just as a man went flying over the bar. Nick blinked. "Or her biceps." "I shall look into this matter, Nicholas." LaCroix expression was chilling. "If there is such a parasite in my Community, it will not be here long." *** Friday Morning There was a message on Nick's machine when he got back to the loft. His ears perked up when he heard the voice on the tape. Nick quickly scribbled down the number and dialed it. "Kai?" "Good evening, Nicholas. Or--wait, that's good pre-dawn morning for you." "Hello, Kai. You're still in England?" Kai sighed. "Yes, and I shall be for some time. This last commission is taking longer than I thought. How's my girl?" "Which one?" "Miri's fine and you know it. I meant the baby." "Tracy's okay. And yes, I'm taking care of her in your absence. But I think she misses you." "The feeling's mutual. Care to fill me in on what I've missed?" "The long story or the short?" "Short first." Nick took a deep breath. "Trace and I are investigating a serial killer who's obsessed with a particular shopping area. LaCroix and Miranda got saddled with the Prince and the Pauper. It looks like there may be a nachzehrer in the city. Janette's pregnant. And I'm dying." There was a long pause. "Maybe you'd better tell me the long story now." *** As she opened the door of the elevator, Natalie caught the tail end of a conversation Nick was having on the telephone. "I'll tell her, Kai, I promise--No, I--Kai! Uh huh. Uh huh." He sighed in defeat. "All right. Yes, I will. And--Yes, I--I promise. All right." Nick pressed the OFF button. He looked up and saw Natalie, his eyes so hang-dog and depressed that she rushed across the loft to meet him. "Nick, what's the matter?" "We've got to talk, Nat." He sat her down on the couch and took her hands in his own. "First off, I spoke with LaCroix. The thing that killed that girl at the strip mall tonight was a vampire, a type of vampire called a . It's an old German word... that best translates as 'parasite.' They're cannibalistic, corpse-chewing vampires, that kill mortals for their flesh and bone marrow." Natalie was aghast. "The leg bones were missing," she remembered. "One of the uniformed officers found them after you left." "How's Tracy?" "Queasy and cursing her sense of smell, but okay." Natalie reached out and traced the line of Nick's cheek. "What about you?" Nick turned and kissed her palm. Then he grabbed her hand and pushed it away. He stared past Natalie into the crackling fire. "Natalie, I..." Nick looked down, then up and away, unable to meet her eyes. "Last month, Julian gave me some... disturbing news. During my examination, he found... growths... in my body." @}----- Julian shoved Nick into the interrogation room and shut the door. "What the hell was that about?" Nick all but shouted. "How much holy water have you been drinking?" Julian said without preamble, seating himself on a bench. Startled, Nick answered, "Four, maybe five pints a day." "I thought I told you no more than two pints every twenty-four hours." "Two wasn't enough. Nat and I like to go out for breakfast in the mornings, and sometimes we talk a walk in the park in the afternoon." "Hmm." Julian pursed his lips. "I have no proof to give you," he said finally, "except what I've seen with my senses. Do you trust my judgment?" "You're a little more experienced in this field than I am." Nick's eyes widened, suddenly worried. "Is... is something wrong?" Julian took a deep breath and slipped into his 'cynical clinical' mode. "You have several anomalous growths in your body, specifically in your stomach, lungs, and brain. I've never yet seen a vampire develop cancer, so frankly, I think it's the holy water." Seeing the devastation on Nick's face was like a blade to his gut, but Julian pressed on, regardless. "It's my belief that these growths are totally benign, that they are scar tissue rather than cancer cells." He jumped down from his perch, warming to his topic. "The holy water that you ingest continually destroys stomach tissues, but not to the point of permanent damage. The vampire healing factor works overtime, and builds up extra tissue in preparation for the next onslaught of liquid crusader. You have relatively few growths in your lungs--I'm guessing you probably aspirated some of the water. It's the tumors in your brain that concern me; it's very possible that they may start pressing on some important nerves." Julian's face was sad. "I'm sorry, Nick. I know how much this ability means to you. And as long as you don't overdo it, you'll be fine. But you've got to take it easy. I don't like what I'm seeing in you." "But Julian, I feel fine." "I know. You may feel like ten thousand men now, but you'll be dead within a year unless you stop exceeding the dosage." @}----- The loft was too warm. Her lips were very, very dry. She licked them. "You've stopped, right?" asked Natalie shakily. Nick nodded. "I've stopped. It'll be either breakfast or an afternoon walk from now on, instead of both." Nick fumbled with his hands, rubbing his sapphire ring, pulling at the tiny silver cross around his neck. "Nat, I'm so sorry." "For what?" "For..." Nick choked. "I don't know. Nat, I'm scared. There's something in my head and I put it there, and it may kill me." <> "I don't want to die, Nat." He kissed his little cross and pulled his knees up to his chest like a small boy. "I should hope not. You've got too much to live for." Natalie got up and went into the kitchen. Nick, not paying much attention, didn't see what she was doing, so when she came back with a mug of blood, he took it and drank it blindly. It was halfway to his stomach before he realized that she'd spiked his drink. "There was holy water in that blood." Nick stared at the empty mug accusingly. "Nick, you made a mistake and you're paying for it. But it doesn't have to kill you unless you let it." Natalie took the cross from Nick's hands and pulled out her own. "Ubi amor, ibi fides. Remember what that means?" "'Where there is love, there is faith.'" "Need I say more?" Nick smiled weakly. "I guess not." *** Exhausted, Alain collapsed onto the couch and dropped his narrow head onto a pillow. It was nearly dawn, and he had been working all night while Janette slept to make the damn new flat presentable. He hadn't questioned the old General's decision to move Janette out of the Raven. He and the Hungarian bartender had had to warn a few overly eager youngbloods off her, and on the few nights Alain had been off, his band had reported similar incidents back to him. Even the newest vampire was too much for her to handle now that she was back in the land of the living. Janette was asleep in the bedroom. There were two in the apartment, but Alain had made it very clear that he was not staying because--to put it bluntly--he did not want to live with his older sister. He planned on staying in Toronto just long enough for Nicolas's wedding and then he, Rowan and Chloe were . Frankly, he missed Paris. He'd left behind a lot of friends and lovers in Paris to get reacquainted with his Family. And what had it gotten him? Nicolas was engaged and the General was married, and something told Alain that both were going to be at least quasi-permanently attached to their respective females for some time. And Janette, Janette was-- Alain frowned at the sound of increased breathing from the next room, sighed, and pulled his jacket over his head. --awake. Alain wailed to himself. He rolled over and went to sleep. *** Showered and drowsy, Janette opened her bedroom door--and was greeted by the sight of a lanky and unconscious vampire on her couch. She opened her mouth to complain... and then she realized that all her boxes were unpacked and all her furniture was in place--nothing was where she would have placed it, and a decorator would have had a fatal seizure, but the drab apartment at least looked livable now. There were even some objects that she didn't recognize. Janette looked at them carefully: they were new, surprisingly tasteful and undoubtedly expensive. Janette frowned. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed a white slip of paper poking from Alain's leather jacket. One of Janette's lesser-flaunted skills, learned on the streets of Paris nearly a millennium previous, was her deft ability to pick pockets. Acquired as a mortal, the talent had not deserted her. Locking her bedroom door behind her, Janette opened the letter and immediately recognized LaCroix's commanding handwriting. Alain-- I give this duty to you because ma Janette will have nothing to do with anyone else, so don't let the responsibility go to your head. If Nicholas is my favorite son, then Janette is and has always been my dearest daughter and I will not lose her, not again. Much as I would prefer her to be here where I can keep watch over her, her 'Home for Wayward Vampires' is no longer a fit home for her. So she is on 'maternity leave.' Take this check, cash it, and find her someplace safe. The other contribution is from Nicholas. I understand he has already given you his instructions. And since she will doubtlessly purloin this letter from you at the first opportunity, I leave Janette a postscript. --Lucien LaCroix ~~~ Postscript: Janette, I know you fear for the safety of your child. I sincerely hope that this is the normal response of a prospective mother and not a reflection on me. Remember, there are rules in the Code against the mindless harming of infants. You made the decision to keep the boy. What ma Janette wants, ma Janette must have. ~L~ A clear drop fell onto the expensive paper. *** Friday Night Reese slammed a meaty fist into his desk, rattling the very panes in the office windows. "Three exactly similar murders, all within fifty feet of each other. A month's silence. And now this?" "Aw, come on, Cap'n, these cases can't be related!" Nick argued, one hand behind his back and the other making tight, indignant gestures. "No killer changes his M.O. that fast. You know that!" "What I know," Reese ground out, "is that I have the Vanderdecken Plaza Merchants Association, the Mayor and Commissioner Vetter breathing sulfur and brimstone down my neck because my two best detectives both seem to have their heads in the clouds! Nick, what the hell is wrong with you two?" Nick clamped his teeth together and almost panicked when he felt his canines lengthening, pressing against the backs of his lips. Not a good sign... "Nothing," he growled. Reese narrowed his eyes at Nick, who was backing out of the office like some kind of caged animal. "Nothing at all." *** "What are the odds?" Tracy asked, drumming her fingers against the dashboard. "What are the chances that a serial killer terrorizes a shopping plaza, and then as soon as he stops, a cannibalistic vampire swoops in to finish what the murderer started? I'd say pretty small. Nick, it's got to be the same guy." "Normally, I'd agree with you, except that all the earlier corpses were intact." "Intact?! There were more bullets than blood in those people!" "More or less intact. Compared to last night's victim." Tracy shuddered, remembering the awful smell. "Do all nachzehrers stink that badly?" "There are a few different 'breeds' of vampire, and they've all got their own distinctive scent. The one time I encountered a nachzehrer, it was pretty bad... atrocious... but nothing like this." "When was this?" "1525, at Frankenhausen. The culmination of the Peasants' War. It was totally one-sided, a complete massacre, which is the kind of thing that attracts their kind by the hundreds. They're scavengers, parasites, even lower than carouche." Nick shook his head, one hand coming up from the steering wheel to worry at the scars on his cheek. "And that's what's really bothering me." "Hmm?" "Nachzehrers don't hunt. They forage. They dig up graves, rob charnel houses... Even if the vampire and the serial killer are one and the same, I've never heard of one committing full-fledged murder." "The brutality... It's almost like... like Jack the Ripper or something." <> "No," said Nick shortly. "It's worse." *** Fergusson crouched in his dim corner. "You're supposed to let me out now!" he snarled. Julian backhanded him absently. "Shut up," he said, and Fergusson compliantly shut up. He was a superb specimen, simplicity itself for Julian to control. "As passive as a puppy. I just wish I knew why. "This is not turning out the way I'd hoped," he muttered to himself, frowning at his notes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Fergusson was chewing on his lips again. "Stop that." "I'm hungry!" "You can't be hungry." The whole purpose of the project was to slowly bring Fergusson across, so that Julian could observe the individual changes that occurred when a mortal became a vampire. "You just ate last night." That was the purpose; unfortunately, it wasn't working out the way it had on the computer. "Maybe you have gas or something." Once Julian knew what each single and precise change entailed, he could find a way to reverse them. But Fergusson was changing too fast. "I'm going to have to adjust the dosage again..." Fergusson slavered wetly. Still cowering, he raised his arm to wipe his drooling mouth--and stared in wild hunger at his own triceps. Before he could attack himself, Julian seized his wrist. "All right! Fine!" He stepped back to allow Fergusson out of the meat locker. "Go, go, my little test-tube boy." The small, bizarre little vampire shambled quickly out of the freezer in his strange, twisting manner, shimmied up the concrete wall of the warehouse and disappeared. Julian rubbed his forehead tiredly. "A corpse-chewer. A damn bone-gnawer. What a botch. Now I know how Frankenstein felt." He checked his watch. "I give him... two, three hours, tops. Tracy's gonna have to put in some overtime tonight. And I think it'll be..." Julian ticked off stores on his fingers. "The burger joint." He slowly crossed the echoing space to where he had set up his workshop. "And I've still got to call Sophia tonight..." He turned to his array of test-tubes and began to mix Fergusson's next injection. *** Kai ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know anything," he repeated, exasperated. The Enforcers only stared at him. said the steely-eyed male of the pair. His wild black hair and long side burns, coupled with his black clothing, made him almost blend into the shadows. "He's been useful to me. He's helping me to cope with my mistakes." Kai's grey eyes flashed a dangerous shade of amber. "Don't presume to lecture me," he warned quietly. "I know what my duty is." The female stepped closer to him. Her waist-length blond hair was unbound, and in the half-light of the hotel room it shimmered in much the same way that Kai's did, like silver. "Don't the Enforcers have better things to do with their time than harass a dying vampire who's just trying to finish one last commission?" To enhance his contempt for their mission, Kai plopped himself on the bed and turned on the television. Kai rolled over on his back to face the dark Enforcer. "And you care... why, Terrence?" "You tend to your business, Enforcer, and I'll tend to mine. If you really want to know what Julian is up to, I suggest you ask him." Kai jumped up and went into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and scrubbed his face with cold water. The black-clad pair followed him, with no more shame than a couple of cats. Kai lifted his dripping head and looked at him. In tandem, they slowly blinked their yellow eyes. "You know, you two are a lot more subtle than the average Enforcer." "Point taken. But I swear, I have no knowledge of what Julian is doing." Kai spread his lean arms wide. "Brain drain me, see if I care." said Day, the woman, "My loyalty is my ignorance. I know nothing about Julian's plans for the nachzehrer. I have seen nothing; I haven't had a vision since January. However, I do know--and I will guarantee you this--that it has something to do with his search for the reversal of our condition. That's all I can tell you." Terrence and Day looked at each other and nodded. "You mean if it's a human or a dhampir? A Hunter?" Kai shrugged. "No idea. I'd take my chances, though." He lowered his voice. "Give Janette the Mark." Day only snarled and growled, thoroughly disgusted, but Terrence nodded. "It has already been ordered." *** Saturday Night Nick was ready to tear his hair out by the roots. "Why hasn't anyone anything?" he all but roared. "Maybe they have, Nikolai. Maybe he's getting to your witnesses before you do." Alexei was standing at LaCroix's shoulder, and Daniel was sitting at Miranda's feet like a poor dog worshipping its master. LaCroix thought. "If what Alexei suggests is true, than we have a nachzehrer who is far more intelligent than the norm." LaCroix sipped his blood thoughtfully. "The breed has come very far since Frankenhausen. Nicholas, what if--" LaCroix was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone. "Yes? What? Where--Alain, where are you?" He listened carefully, then hung up. "Come with me, Nicholas." *** "I don't see it," Janette said again, wondering what the fuss was about. She was on 'maternity leave' from the Raven and bored out of her mind. Now here were Alain, LaCroix and Nick, staring like gawping teenagers at the front door of her apartment. And it was a perfectly ordinary door. "Only a vampire's eyes can see," LaCroix said quietly. Nick touched the door with ginger fingertips. It was a simple mark, seemingly burned into the wood; only a few lines, but it was beyond his power to describe with words. But the power that seemed to emanate from the brand was indescribable. "LaCroix, what is it?" "It is that mark that your God put on Cain. It is the mark of the Enforcers." Part Six May 1997: Monday Night The Vanderdecken Plaza was dark. After six gruesome murders, Reese had finally convinced the Merchants' Association that closing down the shopping area was the safest course of action, for both employees and customers. There had been some very real fears that the killer--or killers--might move on to another target, but there had been no other murders of the kind in any other areas. In fact, a strange, dark figure had been seen consistently in and around the plaza, darting in and out of the shadows. One witness had reported hearing a strange, heavy panting, a sound he had described as 'wet.' Nick rubbed his chin impatiently. From his higher vantage point on the roof of the hamburger place, he could see the entire plaza. It was laid out in an inverted 'U' shape, one leg of the 'U' slightly longer than the other, and with a break in one corner between the liquor store and one of the unnecessarily expensive cafes for a roadway. Where Nick stood was at the end of the short leg; a bagel store was at the end of the other. On the roof of the bagel store stood LaCroix. Scattered throughout the rest of the plaza were Alain, Alexei, Tracy and Miklos. Nick shook his head sharply. He was used to communicating without words with anyone except Natalie anymore. LaCroix smirked. LaCroix agreed. LaCroix and Nick turned their heads to the liquor store at the end. Because Kai had left before teaching her to fly, Tracy was not on the roof with the others, but huddled in a doorway. LaCroix signaled to Alexei, who was the closest to Tracy. Alexei's lithe form sprinted over the edge of the roof and dropped silently beside Tracy. "All right, Detective Vetter?" he whispered, so softly that she had some trouble hearing him. "I'm okay," she whispered back. Alexei reached out and gently pressed his fingers to her face, just under her cheekbones. "Press your palms over the nasal passages. It'll block out the worst of the scent." Tracy did as he instructed, found that the nauseating odor was significantly lessened, looked up to thank him-- --and roared in pain and terror as a double pair of fangs ripped through her shoulder. The four vampires on the roof whipped down to the ground almost instantly, but the nachzehrer was gone, and so was Alexei, leaving only a spattering of blood and a rancid metallic stench. Nick immediately began to check Tracy's wounds. LaCroix snarled violently and rammed his fist into a canopy support pole. "Miklos, get back to the Raven! Help Miranda with Daniel. Alain, come with me!!" The General fled, hot on the trail of the murdering vampire who had taken his son. "This is getting old very fast," Tracy muttered. Nick scooped her up. "Miklos, go. Daniel and Alexei have a very strong bond. Anything happens to one, the other goes completely nuts." Nick flew Tracy back to his loft. He took her up to Natalie's lab. "Take off your shirt," he instructed, laying out dressings and bandages. As he sterilized the wound--not usually necessary for a vampire, but Nick wasn't taking any chances--something about it struck him as odd. There was a medium-sized chunk of flesh torn away, with fang marks at the top and bottom of the wound; that wasn't unusual. Nachzehrers were notorious for having fangs in the upper and lower jaws. What was odd was that the wound was totally . *** Miklos ran up the stairs to LaCroix's apartment and threw open the door to find the place in shambles. "Miranda!" he shouted. "Miranda!" "Miklos! In here!" The dark Hungarian darted into the boy's bedroom. Miranda's arms were bulging with the effort of keeping Daniel pinned to the floor. The little boy's eyes were blazing red, his fangs were extended to an obscenely painful degree and he was covered in red sweat. He was slavering, spouting rough gibberish. Miklos shoved Miranda aside and threw himself over the child. "Find me something to tie him with! Ropes, chains, duct tape, anything!" Miranda knew where LaCroix kept the chains. Miklos wrapped Daniel in the specially-made bindings and padlocked them. He was still roaring incoherently, but all Miranda could do about that was to shut the bedroom door. She whirled on the bartender. "What. The hell. Happened?" "Alexei was taken by the parasite," returned Miklos shortly. He watched the mortal woman carefully for some reaction. Outwardly, there was nothing. Nothing except a reflex jerking of her slender fingers. "LaCroix went after them." Miranda closed her eyes for a moment. Then she nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Miklos immediately went into the bedroom, closed the door, and clamped his hand over Daniel's mouth. He stayed there until Miranda called safety. "How is he?" "He's passed out." "I'm not surprised." Miranda pulled on her jacket. "Someone dropped Alexei at Mercy Hospital. I've got to get there before some doctor earns himself a research grant." *** Partington sneezed. "Ugh," he complained, wiping his eyes. "I haven't sneezed this much since I was twelve." "Is that from the time you were born or the time you crossed over?" "Vampires sneeze, Kai," Partington pointed out, looking down from the second level and gesturing with his glasses. "Unless they've been buried in a very dusty library for two months." "Stop me if I'm wrong about this, but don't you live in this very dusty library? You should be immune by now." Kai tossed aside one book and picked up another. Partington sighed. He draped his arms over the railing and leaned his chin on his wrists. "Kai, what are you looking for?" "The man who killed my son." "And you think you're going to find Conroy in here?" "It's the best place to start. Aristotle isn't going to cut me any slack, and you've kept free tabs on every vampire and vampire hideaway in Europe since Cromwell. I'm not leaving until I've read every damn document you've got." "You're pretty damn close to finishing... The boy meant a great deal to you, didn't he?" "Sometimes... sometimes it's impossible to see the darkness you are living in, until a light comes into your life. When that light is threatened, the darkness is even greater. And when it's finally taken away..." Kai closed his eyes briefly. "I married Clarissa because she was with child. And I wanted a child. Not a... a ... a child." "She must have been grateful." "She thought I was the archangel Gabriel. When he was born, and they put him in my arms... And then the knowledge that he was not mine just slipped out of my brain. She named the child Dennis... and that boy was like a shower of gold dust to me. Partington, he was just perfect." He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Could I have that book behind your left ear, please?" Instead, Partington jumped down from the upper level, grabbed Kai by the shoulders, and forced him to stand up. "You haven't eaten in two weeks," he said bluntly. "And you sound like Nicholas." "Speaking of Nicholas... Kai, listen to me. You are running yourself ragged and that's not healthy for a man in your condition." Kai barked out a laugh. "I know that there is a nachzehrer loose in LaCroix's Community--" "It's not even called Toronto over here anymore, is it?" "--so let's get out of the library--" "Partington, I'm shocked." "--and go ask some questions." Kai looked up. "You think people here might know something?" "Corpse-chewing vampires native to Europe." Partington shrugged. "It's more than possible. And I could use some air." *** Nick met Natalie and Captain Reese in the hospital lobby. "Where's Tracy?" Reese asked abruptly. "Umm... Don't know." "And what's Natalie doing here?" "She was in the car when you called," Nick fibbed hastily. "You've got a witness?" "Yeah." Reese turned and began walking, a clear sign that Nick and Natalie were to follow. "Teenager who was cutting through the plaza on his way home and got bitten on the throat. He's pretty bloody, but the doctor says it's mostly superficial." Reese knocked on a door. "He's one lucky kid." "Come in, Captain." Nick walked into the examining room--and confronted a startlingly familiar face. <> The Baroness. His first reaction was one of shock. His second was one of profound relief and thanks, that somehow Janette's only fledgling had been here and Alexei had not had to deal with an overly curious mortal doctor. His third was something along the lines of 'Oh, .' "Nick, Natalie, this is Dr. Sophia Baron. Dr, Detective Knight and Dr. Lambert." 'Dr. Baron' smiled with professional charm. "Doctor. Detective." Her eyes immediately fixated on the pair of scars on Nick's face before she turned back to her patient. "How's that?" The boy shrugged--and immediately wished he had not. "It stings." He was pretty nondescript-looking, Reese decided, about fourteen years old, tall for his age and slender, with an oval face, brown hair and deep blue eyes. He was dressed in plain street clothes, jeans and sneakers, a dark blue sweater and a black denim jacket, and a gold chain around his neck. He winced when Dr. Baron wiped away some of the excess ointment from the wound. "Are you feeling well enough to answer some questions?" The boy nodded, a little warily. "What's your name?" "Alexandre." That was what it said on the birth certificate Aristotle had given him. "R-E, not E-R." "Can we have your full name?" Alexei tensed slightly. Unseen behind the Captain, Nick caught his eye and nodded firmly. "Alexandre LaCroix." Reese looked up. "LaCroix. Any relation to Lucien LaCroix?" "He's my father." An uncomfortable pause. "We are talking about the same man, right?" Alexei rolled his eyes tiredly. He had always had bad reactions to injuries. "He's the Nightcrawler. And he owns the Raven. I was cutting through the plaza on my way home from a movie." "I wasn't aware that he had any children." "There are many things you are unaware of, Captain." Brusquely, LaCroix pushed his way into the hospital room, followed by Miranda. LaCroix touched his young son's shoulder and examined the wound in his throat. It was cleansed and medicated but not yet unbound. "Are you well, Alexandre?" he asked quietly. "Yes, sir. But I feel sick." Alexei looked up worriedly. "Is Daniel all right?" Reese frowned. "Daniel?" "My younger brother." "Was he with you?" "N-no." Mentally, LaCroix encouraged the boy to lie to the police captain. "He's been ill. I was worried about him, so I wanted to get home. That's why I cut through the plaza." "After I expressly warned you not to," LaCroix interjected, with a hard, severe look at his injured son. Reese visibly saw the teen gulp. "How did you know your son was here, Mr. LaCroix?" he asked. "He was out looking for Alexandre," Miranda spoke up. Her eyes lingered on Alexei with worry and something like fondness. Nick knew Miranda well enough now to know that she didn't bestow her affections lightly, and that she cared for his unfortunate brethren touched Nick deeply, for more than anyone else in his Family, Alexei had suffered too much in his short life. "The hospital called the apartment, and then I called him." Reese was taking down notes, because his detective seemed preoccupied, as usual. "And your name, Miss?" "Miranda LaCroix." "And you are Mr. LaCroix's daughter?" Simultaneously, Nick, Natalie, LaCroix and Alexei . Miranda only smiled. "No, Captain, I'm his wife. Alexei's stepmother." Natalie thought. "Umm, Captain," she interjected quickly, "if it's all right with La--Mr. LaCroix, maybe I could take a look at the wound? For comparison with the wounds on the previous victims?" "Uhh... Sure, Nat." "And then maybe he could go home?" Nick added. Reese blinked. Miranda felt a small stab of pity for him; he looked like he was in a real daze. "We'll still need to get him down to the station for his statement, and a police photographer needs to tackle those bites." Oops, Natalie thought. Those bites would be gone by tomorrow. Or would they? Nick sent. "Of course, Captain," said LaCroix smoothly. "If he is feeling up to it." Reese frowned; something told him that Alexandre LaCroix wouldn't feel 'up to it' until his father said he could. "Dr. Lambert?" It was the first time since March that Natalie had seen Alexei Romanov. "That was some performance. How're you holding up?" she muttered, probing his injury. "Well enough. He's not happy, though. I screwed up." He smiled wanly. "Royally." Nick, overhearing the boy, frowned with a deep sense of foreboding. He knew better than anyone what happened when someone 'screwed up' on LaCroix's watch. *** Once they were all safely installed in Miranda's car, "You let you guard down." "Yes, sir," Alexei admitted readily. LaCroix debated chastising the boy in a more vehement fashion, but there was really no need. Alexei was one of his more intelligent fledglings, so he knew he had made a stupid mistake and besides, he was in no shape to be punished. "Feed and go straight to bed." "Yes, sir." The General turned to his wife and asked her the question that had been most troubling him. "Daniel?" Miranda started the ignition. "I found the chains," was all she said. "Ah." Well, that was what they were there for. Then, "How did you know Alexei was here? Alain and I were flying all over the city, but the parasite left no traces." "Someone called the apartment. I didn't recognize the voice." *** Seething, Julian threw his creation into the meat locker. "You disgusting little son of a bitch," he spat, wrenching up one of Fergusson's wrists and forcing it into the manacle hanging from the ceiling. "You know the goddamned difference between a mortal and a vampire!" Julian didn't care about the people that Fergusson had killed, or even about Fergusson himself. He was only interested in furthering his work. But he drew the line at victimizing vampires. "I may hate what I am," he muttered, securing Fergusson so tightly that the manacles bit into his wrists, "but I don't have anyone else." *** On seeing their destination, Kai scoffed and shrugged. "It's a graveyard." Partington reeled back. "Kai! This is London! The capital of the literary vampire world. There's no such thing as 'just a graveyard' here! This is Highgate Cemetery." "Why on earth did you bring me here?" Jumping open the gate, Partington began to gingerly pick his way into the depths of the old graveyard. "Damn consecrated ground... I always wonder if it's a real fear or a racial memory of some kind." "What's that?" "The fear of holy things." The historian cringed every time he put his foot down. "I feel like I'm walking on nails." He looked back at his companion. "You're the saint. Is it real?" Kai stopped in his tracks. "Come here." He kicked up some sod to expose the earth. Kneeling down in the cemetery, Kai drew a cross in the dirt. "Touch it." "You're kidding, right?" "I'm no more holy than you are. Touch it." With some trepidation, Partington reached out his hand, expecting it to burst into flames--with no result. "Well, of course not," he blathered. "Because you drew it. You said it yourself, you're no holier than I am." Kai rolled his thin shoulders in a shrug. "Partington, nothing happened because you didn't expect anything to happen. You trust me. That's the only reason. I have this annoying tendency to influence people even when I'm not trying. If I wasn't here, you'd be nursing a bad burn right now. As for the racial memory..." Kai stared at the drawing in the dirt. "I've always wondered why Lucius chose 'LaCroix' for a surname." was an abrupt departure in topic. "Sorry?" "La croix. The cross. It oughtn't to surprise me, I suppose. Doubtless, he made good use of crosses in his mortal army days." The oblique reference took Partington a moment to decipher. "He crucified people?" "I've never asked. But yes, very probably." Kai shook his head. "Everyone wonders why we're afraid of crosses. The cross was a symbol of death long before it was a symbol of the one true light. And in one form or another... every vampire is afraid of death. His own." With one blow, he destroyed the earthen cross. "Whatever we're here for, can we get on with it?" *** Dr. Sophia Baron, as she was now to be known, scrutinized Tracy's wound minutely. It was already closing, as Alexei's had been. "And that," she said, straightening, "is the real problem." "Call me crazy," said Natalie, one eyebrow raised incredulously, "but isn't that a good thing?" Her arms were crossed over her chest defiantly, and all Nick could think was "What are you doing back in Toronto?" he asked. "After your little fiasco at the health club--" "I came for Janette," Sophia snapped, expertly placing a fresh dressing on Tracy's shoulder. "I owe her that much." In a few hours, the bandage would not be needed. Natalie shook her head. "Julian told me he was going to try and find a female vampire physician. If I'd only known..." "Ladies, ladies," the General insisted, leaning on a refrigerator. It was the first time he had been in Natalie's 'laboratory,' and for some reason, he thought the word in a very British manner. But it was a very well-stocked, modern laboratory. Perfect for the soon-to-be-weds' little search for mortality. If LaCroix was any such judge of things, it would have to be modernized many times over before they were successful. But back to the business at hand... "Nicholas, do you remember that little German we met in Prague? The one with the bad hand." Nick nodded. "Eberhardt, yes. We all called him Ever. He was your bloodbroker's fledgling. Why?" "That hand of his." LaCroix approached his fledgling. "Winter once mentioned to me that Ever lost two or three fingers to a nachzehrer at Frankenhausen. It wasn't that the parasite managed to chew them off--" "--but that it bit his hand before it was pulled off him." Suddenly agitated, Nick rubbed at his sapphire ring. "Ever always wore a glove on that hand, but I once saw him without it. It was like there was a festering wound on the end of his arm." It was a disturbing thing to think about. Tracy frowned, thinking, something that her shoulder was preventing her from doing at length. "So there's something in a nachzehrer's bite that prevents the wound from healing." "Like an anticoagulant?" Natalie suggested. LaCroix considered that. "There are massive amounts of anticoagulating agents in the saliva of a normal vampire--is that an oxymoron?" "Sounds like it, doesn't it?" Nick murmured. Sophia shook her head. "No. It would have to be something stronger. A nachzehrer's desire is not just for blood. They need living flesh, viable organs, bone marrow. Whatever is in the bite of the corpse- chewer does not only enhance the blood flow, it literally dissolves the flesh of whoever was unfortunate enough to get in the creature's way." Tracy began to look vaguely sick. "I didn't find any chemical traces in any of the victims," Natalie remembered, frowning. "And there was definitely flesh on all of them." Nick threw his hands up. "Then this is a nachzehrer! Perfect. Now this case makes absolutely no sense." LaCroix tented his fingers in front of his lips. "The German who survived the parasite's attack now has a hand that is simply a twisted lump of bone and raw flesh. If this killer were truly one of the nachzehrers, Alexei would be dead from his injuries, and Tracy would have lost her entire arm by now." "So..." Tracy looked around. "What exactly are we dealing with?" *** "So..." Kai looked at his companion, "is there any particular reason for us being in a cemetery?" Partington stepped carefully down a hillside, created by many years of sinking, turning and rain water. "You're the one with the Gothic bookstore, my American friend. The vampire clichés are your business. I have a contact here." Kai stopped short. The wind rustled through his silver-gilt hair and involuntarily, he shivered. "Someone here?" "Disturbing thought, isn't it? Spends his days in a mausoleum." The deeper they got into the old, decrepit graveyard, the more uneasy Kai became, and he began to catch wind of a revolting, rotting smell. And it wasn't the corpses. He could feel the blood-bile rising in his throat. There was a constant sound, like someone walking on broken glass... or someone chewing on brittle old bones. They saw him as they came over the rise. Peering over a crumbling old monument to the departed, Kai saw a shadow with long, stringy hair hunched over a messily-dug hole. A thin, frail almost translucent arm reached down into the hole and pulled out a handful of finger bones. The nachzehrer tossed back his head, smiling sickly, and popped the little bones into his mouth one at a time, like candy. "That skeleton has to be at least a hundred and twenty years old," Kai whispered, like an unfortunate witness to a car accident, repulsed but unable to look away. "He'd get more nourishment from a Milk Bone. How can he eat that?" "'Grinds their bones to make his bread,'" Partington muttered. Kai just gave him a look. "He's been responsible for at least half the vandalism here over the past fifty years." Partington half stood. Kai tried to pull him down, but the historian shook him off. The long- haired vampire looked up anxiously, his hair flipping over his face. His eyes had too much white, and they moved from side to side in a searching, sliding manner. They lit on Partington and widened. "My old friend," he called softly. Kai started; the delicate-looking figure had a remarkably deep, almost--dare he think it--sepulchral voice. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, their long thin fingers clacking. Kai felt his heart beat twice: the nachzehrers were notorious for being able to sense death. They did not actively hunt, but if they found a dying mortal--or vampire--they would not hesitate to hasten the course of nature. Kai really was not in favor of attracting this one's attention. Partington finished standing up. "Anton. You're still doing well for yourself, I see. Taking good care of your trim figure." Anton chuckled, a sound that made the hairs on Kai's neck try to scream. "I do just fine, my dusty old friend." His expression brightened when he saw Kai. "And who..." Anton licked his lips. "...is this?" In a shifting, shambling fashion, more reminiscent of an ape than a man, Anton made his way up the rise to where Kai and Partington had hidden behind the tombstones. Kai honestly thought he was going to vomit. The smell was almost unbearable, and the sight of this stringy- haired, skeletal man with his scent of rotting flesh and maggots, dressed in the best clothing from Lloyd's of London was more than enough to turn an unprepared mind to thoughts of mad dreams and straitjackets. The nachzehrer's fingers closed firmly on Kai's shoulder, and Anton, sniffing, took deep, instructive breaths. "Mmm," he gushed, "you smell delicious." Stiffly, Kai tolerated the contact. "Partington tells me that you've helped him in the pass. I need help. I need information." The fingers loosened abruptly. "I don't know anything," Anton said sullenly, turning to go back to his dinner. Kai grabbed his hand, hard. "With a little more pressure, these weak old bones of yours will be powder. And I don't think the folks here have enough of the good red stuff to put you back together. Hear me out." Gasping, Anton looked to his friend for help. But Partington was pokerfaced and not moving. "What?" "One of you is on the move in Canada." "Nonsense," Anton barked, a sound tinged with pain as Kai held his hand in a binding grip. "Doesn't work that way." "And why is that?" "We are European to the bone. None in Asia, none in Africa. None in the Americas. This is our home, and we can't leave it." He tilted his head, ostensibly in thought. "Ask the little Winterborn," he said suddenly. Kai blinked. "Winterborn?" "Winter Rasna," Partington explained. "He's an Etruscan vampire, well over two thousand years old, very highly respected over here, and very powerful. His only fledgling is a German called Ever, who often uses the alias 'Winterborn.' He got attacked by a nachzehrer the same night he was brought across; he terrified of parasites." Anton straightened in indignation. "Sorry, Anton." "Anton." Kai shook him. "What should I ask Ever Winterborn?" "Ask him why one of my people is in North America. Ask him about the doctor." <> With his free hand, Kai pulled a photograph out of his jacket. "This doctor?" Anton scrutinized the picture uncertainly. But finally, he nodded. With a swift motion, Kai released him, and Anton tumbled down the hill. "Many thanks. And don't call me delicious." He turned to Partington. "Now. Ever Winterborn?" *** Halliburton, Ontario: Wednesday Afternoon Nick knocked on the wooden door of the charming old home and waited expectantly, a tad nervous. He was greeted by a grey-haired older gentleman, a little on the hefty side. "Hello, is Katherine at home?" "George? Who is it?" A wonderfully familiar face appeared behind George's shoulder. She gasped. "Nicholas!" Nick started to grin, but the grin soon became a full-blown smile. "Hello, Katherine." "Nicholas! Oh my--" Katherine Barrington threw her arms around her old friend, laughing, while her husband looked on in complete astonishment. "George, come here. This is my--" She stopped when Nick leaned over to whisper in her ear. It was spur of the moment, but he thought that some kind of family relationship was the best way to explain his presence in Katherine's life to her husband. "Oh," she smiled brightly, "what a nice thing to say. George, this is Nick Knight. My nephew." She pressed a hand to her cheek. "Come in, Nick, come in." She led Nick into the living room. George shook his hand heartily. "It's wonderful to finally meet some of Katherine's family," he said with great sincerity. "You're her nephew?" "Well, a make-believe nephew. She and my father were great friends, but I haven't seen Katherine since I was a boy." "Sit down, Nick," Katherine insisted. "Would you like some coffee?" George offered. Before Katherine could protest, Nick accepted. "Yes, thank you. Milk, no sugar." George went into the kitchen. Katherine sat down next to Nick and took his hand. "Nicholas Knight, what is going on? Mid-afternoon? And coffee?" She looked him up and down uncertainly. "And what on earth happened to your face?" She reached out to touch the two brown circles above his twice-divided left eyebrow, and the wavering brown lines that bracketed his blue eye and dripped down his cheek. "Nick, you are still a... Aren't you?" "Yes." Nick grinned. "But I've found a bit of a shortcut. As for the scars, well..." <> <> <> <> "I was protecting a friend who couldn't protect himself." His grin became lopsided and slightly wicked. "You think I look bad, you should see the other guy." In spite of herself, Katherine shivered. Nick, Katherine and her husband chatted for a few hours before Nick got around to explaining what he was doing in Halliburton. "Much as I've enjoyed the visit, I do have some very serious business here." Katherine's face became grave. "Is something wrong, Nick?" "Depends on your perspective." Nick handed his old friend a cream envelope. She opened it and read the contents somberly--and then jumped up and hugged Nick hard enough to squeeze the breath out of him. "Can I take that as a yes?" "Of course we'll come, Nick!" Katherine was positively radiant. "George, Nick's inviting us to his wedding in September." "Well, congratulations!" said George enthusiastically. "Who's the lucky lady?" Nick pulled out his wallet and showed them a picture that Tracy had taken of Natalie around Christmastime. "Her name's Natalie." "Oh, Nick." Katherine could tell, just by looking at her old friend, that he was not just completely in love with this woman, but that he loved her. She certainly wasn't as old as Nick, but she was old enough to know the difference. His intelligent cobalt eyes were soft as they gazed on the glossy picture. It was an expression that Katherine had never seen on Nick's face before. "She's lovely." She nudged him, and raised an eyebrow. Nick nodded, and smiled. Katherine returned the smile brightly, and clasped his hand. George got that bewildered look on his face again. It was while they were discussing Natalie and the wedding that Nick felt the pain. Just behind his right ear, he began to feel a slight burning in his head. *** Natalie looked up from book. Sidney looked up from his catnip mouse. "Mreow?" "I don't know what's wrong, Sid. I thought that Nick--" *** The burning increased. Nick gritted his teeth, groaned-- *** The book fell from Natalie's hands. *** --and passed out. *** Natalie grabbed her keys, her medical bag and the address Nick had left for her and rushed out of the loft. *** Wednesday Night Sophia stared uneasily at the strange, indescribable mark on the door of Janette's apartment. "Why would the Enforcers do something like this?" she murmured. "They have given their protection to Janette," LaCroix replied evenly. "And by extension, the boy. Why? They haven't told me." He paused. "I want to thank you. For Alexei. And for not taking Dr. Lambert's head off." Sophia eyed the old Roman who was somehow related to her. "You're welcome," she said finally, deciding that that was a safe answer. "She can be an infuriating woman, but she keeps Nicholas within my reach. I assume you're going to knock before the sun comes up?" Sophia knocked, and LaCroix was fervently glad that Alain was working at the Raven and was not here to embarrass him. An adult heartbeat and a fetal heartbeat approached the other side of the door cautiously. The peephole darkened for a spilt second. Then a massive amount of deadlocks were unbolted. It was the first time in two months that LaCroix had seen his 'dearest daughter.' She definitely looked pregnant. She also looked exhausted. Janette bolted the door again the moment her visitors were inside her apartment. LaCroix looked around. "Sophia," enthused Janette wearily, hugging her fledgling. And Sophia was still her fledgling; no matter whether Janette was a mortal or a vampire, she had still made Sophia. "What in the world are you doing here?" "I was summoned, so I came." The former baroness laid a hand on Janette's abdomen. "And not a moment too soon. When are you due?" "Sometime in August. Also not a moment too soon." LaCroix touched a finger to his temple. Something was wrong, very wrong with Nicholas... but he had promised Alexei to return to the Raven as soon as possible. He hated a broken promise. He also hated leaving Daniel alone with Miranda for longer than necessary. His job done, LaCroix turned to go. "LaCroix, wait," Janette stopped him. The General faced her, his alabaster face impassive. Janette took his hand. "I read your letter. I... was not myself. I'm still not. Thank you." She kissed his ancient ring affectionately. "And thank Nicholas for me. He will understand." Not trusting his voice, LaCroix nodded. <> he thought with profound gratefulness. *** Holding his shoulders steadily, Natalie supported Nick as he leaned over his toilet bowl, vomiting up pink-tinged watery fluids. She had brought him back from Halliburton only half-conscious, moaning and feverish. This was looking ominously familiar... "How do you feel?" "Cold," Nick rasped between retches. "And my head hurts." Not for the first time that night, Natalie silently cursed and wished that Julian had told her where to find him. "No more holy water for a while," she muttered. Nick slumped backward against her, spent. "Nick, I can't carry you." He didn't move. Fine. "Get up," Natalie ordered in her best LaCroix voice. With bleary eyes, Nick looked at her accusingly. "Traitor," he coughed. Leaning heavily on her--Natalie almost collapsed under his weight; Nick was a big man--he got to his feet. Stumbling, Natalie helped him to bed, where he immediately burrowed himself under the blankets. She stroked his forehead. "Do you want anything?" Nick uncovered his head long enough to shake it. "Sleep. Be all right by tomorrow." And he buried himself again. Natalie took herself up to her laboratory. She had taken samples from Nick at Katherine's home and she was itching to examine them. Two hours later, she crawled into bed. Although asleep, Nick immediately snuggled up next to her, nestling into the juncture between her neck, shoulder and collarbone. Natalie kissed his head. He was not going to like what she had to tell him. *** Alexei was asleep when LaCroix returned home. The General brushed a lock of thick brown hair from the Russian boy's forehead, then he pushed aside the bandage on his throat. The horrible bite was healing well, too well for a nachzehrer bite; the shallow, square-ish hole where the flesh had been torn out had filled back in and was scabbed over nicely. A pair of arms slid over LaCroix's shoulders and wrapped around his neck. "Where's Daniel?" "In on of the basement rooms." "Should I be concerned?" "He wanted some peace and quiet. He didn't want to risk waking his brother and I think he's worried to be in the same room with me if you're not here. He's reading." LaCroix grunted. As long as he was not in the club and not causing trouble, Daniel could do what he liked. "Are you going to let Captain Reese interview Alexei?" "Of course not. The good Captain will find no information of use. And there's no point in causing the boy undue anxiety." LaCroix paused, remembering. He untangled himself from Miranda's embrace and beckoned for her to follow him into their bedroom. "In his capacity as a healer to the Crown Prince, Rasputin fed from Alexei. In this way he formed a bond with the boy that allowed him to reach him and heal his hemophilia whenever the prince was attacked. He also feeds Alexei is own blood. But it wasn't enough to bring him across. Consequently... I didn't know." Miranda said nothing, sensing that this was something her husband would not bring up again. "When I had Rasputin killed, their bond snapped. Somehow, Alexei's illness was changed; the hemophilia was compounded by the effects of what Natalie calls the 'vampire virus.' It was trying to take hold of him, but did not have enough strength. In different circumstances, he could easily have become a Hunter." "But he didn't." "No." Absently, LaCroix ran his hand over the wall, the dresser, any furniture. "When the Romanovs were executed, Alexei was badly wounded by bullet wounds to his torso and head. But by that time, he could not be killed with lead. The shock of near-death jolted his body into a true state of vampirism. He was loaded into a cart with the bodies of his parents and sisters, and taken away to be chopped up, and put into barrels of acid, or burned. However, one of the soldiers charged with taking care of the bodies manages to spirit away the Prince's 'remains.' "The soldier was Étienne Le Morte, acting under my orders. By that time, I had realized exactly what Rasputin had bungled. Étienne was familiar with Russia and Russian customs from his mortal life, so I instructed him to rescue the young Prince Alexei before he was accidentally cremated. "Étienne spirited Alexei into France, where he and I and his wife, my sister Shosha, tried to restore his health... and sanity. The horrors of the past several months and of being brought across in such a violent manner had driven him nearly mad. "It took us a very long time..." LaCroix sat down beside Miranda on the end of the bed. "Why am I so... of him?" "He's not even your fledgling." "No, he is. Since Alexei's master was dead, the fledgling had no true mental bond with anyone, not even with his guardians, who were technically distant relatives of his. I performed a 'rebond,' which destroyed the remnants of the bond Alexei had with Rasputin, and bound him permanently to me." "You took so much trouble to save him and make him your own. Why did you leave him with Étienne and Shosha?" "I thought my energies would be better spent working on Nicholas." Miranda shook her head, disgusted. "Lucien, I've said this before. The world revolve around Nicholas." LaCroix covered her hand briefly with his own. "Mine did." "You've told me about Alexei. Why are you so hostile towards Daniel?" "Because in Daniel... I see all the worst things. In myself." Part Seven June, 1997: Friday Morning Tracy had been staring at the picture more and more often since her master had left for England. For a while, she had kept it in her living room, where she wouldn't have to look at it before going to sleep. Then, a few weeks ago, her father had come to visit. "Trace," he had asked, swishing his soda, "where'd you get that painting?" "Oh, it was a Christmas present from Nick." "Nick." The disapproval in Vetter's voice was more than apparent. "Yes, Dad. Nick. You know, my partner?" "Why the hell would he give you a painting of a Hell's Angel? For Christmas, no less? If I were you, I'd get rid of it." So Tracy had taken down the portrait of Vachon. She hung it instead in her bedroom, on the wall facing her bed, where no one else would be able to look at it. She sat on the bed and looked at it now, with her knees hugged to her chest. She missed Vachon. She missed Kai. She even missed Julian. The photo of herself as a twelve-year-old, fishing with her father, lay forgotten in a drawer. Her shoulder was fully healed, without even a scar, but it still twinged sometimes with phantom pain. And her nightmares had come back. She missed Kai. That had something to do with it. It had been close to four months since he had left on 'business.' She missed him with an intensity that frightened her. The worst part was he had gone so far away that Tracy had almost no awareness of him. When she wasn't having nightmares, she was dreaming of the day in Black Falls when she and Kai had shared a bed, when he had held her and whispered to her and breathed cool breath on her neck. She missed him. Nick wasn't helping, either. Whatever had been bothering him, he had apparently talked to Natalie about it, and they had cleared things between them. But now, for some strange reason, Nick had cut back severely on his regimen of holy water. He kept a flask in his duster and a thermos-full in the glove compartment, but Tracy had never seen him drink from either one. The time they spent together had strengthened their Family blood bond, allowing Tracy a great deal of unwanted access to her partner's emotions. She hadn't been sleeping well. The phone beside her bed rang once. Tracy picked it up and answered disinterestedly, "Hello?" "Hello, Tracy." Tears sprang into Tracy's eyes. "Kai. About damn time you called." "I'm sorry, child. I feel like I've been moving through layers of cotton for weeks now." His light baritone was slightly remorseful. "I really hate England now... I take it the parasite is still at large?" "Yeah. But he hasn't attacked anyone since last month." "Hmm. Who was the unlucky meal?" "Me." Tracy swore she heard him bite the mouthpiece on his phone. "I'm okay!" "That's not the point! I should have been there! I should have been there to protect my child." Tracy was shocked by the fierceness of her master's response. "But instead I was off in another part of the world, someplace I have no business being!" "Kai. Chill, okay?" "No, Tracy. It's not okay." Kai sighed, his anger subsiding. "I can't reach Julian at the clinic. Do you know where he is?" "No, not a clue. Nobody's seen Julian since April. He took a long vacation. Said something about a project he was going to be working on." *** Quietly, Kai cursed. "Damn, damn, damn, damn." He bid farewell to his child and hung up. He had completely given up on finding Conroy for Slade's sake, and finding him for retribution had been pushed to the back of Kai's mind. He was not a vengeful person by nature, and with so little time left, it was pointless to waste more precious weeks blaming a man for a crime that Kai knew he could have prevented... if he'd only been there for Dennis. All that remained was the Toronto nachzehrer, the North American parasite that was not supposed to exist. He had hoped and prayed that his hunch was wrong, that he was doing his friend a grave injustice. And Tracy had just destroyed his last shred of optimism. The only thing left was to find out . He had finally tracked down Ever Winterborn. Kai had an appointment with him tonight, at the top of Tower Bridge. *** LaCroix bolted out of a sound sleep. Something was amiss in his domain. Careful not to wake Miranda, LaCroix slid out of bed and into his robe. Barefoot, he checked on the boys. In the bottom bunk, Alexei was sleeping soundly, apparently unaffected by his injury last month. The top bunk was empty. LaCroix's ice-blue eyes narrowed in disapproval. He avoided this room. He'd not been in it since it was a guest room, kept in order on the off-chance that Nicholas might choose to spend the day in his father's company. Now it was a boy's bedroom, and LaCroix had to admit, it was fortunate neither boy was still growing, because it was a small room. There was just enough space for the bunk beds, a chest of drawers, a bookcase, and a small table with two chairs. Neither Alexei nor Daniel had brought much from Paris, and their belongings were neatly displayed on two shelves of the bookcase. On one shelf was Alexei's treasured chess set, something that LaCroix vividly remembered giving him. There was also a balalaika, an instrument Alexei was proficient at playing, and a wooden box, no doubt holding the mortal trinkets of the Russian prince. On a lower shelf were Daniel's belongings. There was the big red fire truck that Nicholas had given him, a splendidly bound copy of Homer's 'The Odyssey,' and three sets of compact discs. LaCroix read the titles with some surprise: the CDs were original cast recordings of the musical 'Les Miserables,' comprised of the French, London and Broadway casts. That was intriguing. 'Les Miserables' and 'The Odyssey'? Perhaps there was hope for Daniel... if LaCroix could find him. Closing his eyes, he carefully observed the psychic traces that all his children left behind. LaCroix headed for the basement. In one of the rooms that had been cordoned off for repairs, LaCroix found his wayward British son, hair tousled and still in his pajamas, deep in a book. LaCroix leaned in the doorway and cleared his throat. Daniel jumped, and the book tumbled to the floor. "I didn't do it!" he insisted in panic. LaCroix ignored him. He picked up the book, which was also beautifully bound. "'Les Miserables,'" he read, flipping through the pages. "And in the original French." "Don't read right in English," Daniel explained nervously, eyes darting around, looking for a way out. "'Doesn't,'" corrected LaCroix absently, deciding how to approach this new twist. "Do you enjoy Hugo?" "Y-yes," admitted Daniel, surprised. "Most of his work. But this 'un's my favorite." "I noticed. I saw your CD collection." Daniel nodded. Then he asked, "Sir, am I in trouble?" "I wish you two would stop calling me 'sir,'" LaCroix complained, sitting down with Daniel's book. "You are my son, not my employee." "Yes, sir--er, General! Er... what should I call you?" "You could start with 'LaCroix.'" Daniel digested this. When he had lived with them during the war, Nicholas had been 'Nicky,' Janette had usually been 'Princess,' and LaCroix had always been 'sir.' "What... should I call Miranda?" LaCroix exhaled softly. question explained a lot. "She's lovely, is she not?" Daniel nodded worshipfully. "Intelligent, self- sufficient, outspoken... As the saying goes, a woman who won't take crap from anyone." He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Am I right?" "Yes... LaCroix." "Good." The ice-blue eyes glittered, and the alabaster-white features looked down on Daniel sternly. "I will not speak to you about your conduct towards Miranda. Because she has already discussed them with you. There's no point in being redundant. And there will be hell to pay if I try to go over her head. She is fond of you, Daniel Wells. But as a child. And only as a child." LaCroix put a finger under Daniel's chin and tilted it up. "And she is my wife. Remember that, and this will be a very happy family. Forget it, and--" "And I won't be around to regret it," Daniel finished grimly. He nodded. "I know. I'm . That's why I come down here. When it gets too hard... I come here." "Perhaps Nicholas should take lessons in control from you." LaCroix gestured with the book. "Who's your favorite character?" "Gavroche." LaCroix chuckled. "How unsurprising." Daniel yawned. LaCroix reached out and pushed him down gently onto the couch. "Lie down. It's barely nine o'clock." The General opened the book. "Paris has a child, and the forest has a bird; the bird is called the sparrow; the child is called the ... "This little creature is full of joy. He has not food to eat every day, yet he goes to the show every evening, if he sees fit. He has no shirt to his back, no shoes to his feet, no roof over his head; he is like the flies in the air who have none of all these things. He is from seven to thirteen years of age, lives in troops, ranges the streets, sleeps in the open air, wears an old pair of his father's pantaloons down about his heels, an old hat of some other father, which covers his ears, and a single suspender of yellow listing, runs about, is always on the watch and on the search, kills time, colours pipes, swears like an imp, hangs about the wine-shop, knows thieves and robbers, is hand in glove with the street girls, rattles off slang, sings smutty songs, and, withal, had nothing bad in his heart. This is because he has a pearl in his soul, innocence; and pearls do not dissolve in mire. So long as man is a child, God wills that he be innocent." When he stopped reading, Daniel was asleep. *** Friday Night Just before sundown, Julian stood staring at the meat locker where he kept his... thing. He groaned, dejectedly. "It's a total botch," he muttered for the umpteenth time. The experiment was over, and it was a failure. There was nothing left for him to do but terminate his test subject. Syringe in hand, Julian unlocked the refrigerator. Fergusson was hanging from his manacles, asleep. Julian grasped his forearm and plunged the needle into the crook of his elbow. Fergusson jerked. "Wake up," Julian instructed, slapping him awake. "Look at me." Julian held his creation in a strong mental grip. "Go to the plaza. And stay there. You're not to come back here." "Not... not come back." "Good boy." Unlocking the wrist cuffs, Julian released Bernard Fergusson from his imprisonment. The artificial nachzehrer quickly disappeared into the new night. "I had such high hopes for this project... Oh, well. Next time, maybe. At least I fixed his eyes." Julian closed the meat locker with a thick metallic clang. *** Sophia threatened Nick with a frighteningly sharp pen. "Don't overtire her," she warned, scoring the thick leather of his duster. "I won't," Nick promised in his most pacifying voice. "But I haven't seen her in months. I just want to see how she is." The doctor withdrew her pen. "Be quick. And be quiet. She's in the nursery." Janette didn't turn when he entered the room, and Nick didn't speak at first. Instead he took in the cheerful little room, tastefully decorated in anticipation of its baby boy occupant. "Looking to see how your money was spent, Nicolas?" "It looks nice. You did a wonderful job." Janette snorted. "Thank the people at the baby stores. I had no idea what to look for." There was something about her that Nick was hard- pressed to identify. Yes, she was mortal. Yes, she was pregnant; her once slender figure was all out of proportion and she moved more slowly than normal. But there was still something... Janette scowled playfully. "Stop staring at me. One would think that you had never seen a pregnant former vampire before." Nick ducked his head and grinned boyishly. "Touché. Janette, you look marvelous." "Always the chivalrous knight." "I mean it. How do you feel?" "Overly large. And tired." She maneuvered herself into a rocker. "When Sophia told me you planned on coming to see me on Friday, I expected you this morning." Nick's face fell. "Uh oh. I know that look. What has happened, mon ami?" "I made another mistake, Janette. The holy water... it was just like everything else. Just another fix. It won't make me mortal." "Did Kai ever say it would?" "No, but I assumed..." Nick knelt down beside Janette's rocking chair. "I assumed too much. And now if I'm not careful, it's going to kill me." He took her hand and placed it just behind his right ear. "I have a buildup of scar tissue in my brain, from all the adrenaline the holy water produces. When it's overly aggravated, it blocks certain functions. That's why Julian won't give me the treatment he gave you. It might prove fatal, and he's not willing to risk that. Even for a temporary chance for me to be mortal." Janette's pale face was drawn with worry. "Does Natalie know?" Nick nodded. "She confirmed it. I'm now on the 'severely restricted diet.' One pint a day, and always in blood. Only straight in emergencies." "What will this mean for your wedding plans?" "Nat and I discussed that. We're having a sunset ceremony." He rubbed her hand with the ball of his thumb. "We've decided on a private ceremony, with a big receptive afterward. Nat and I were wondering... You'll still have a month or two of mortality left, and we wondered if you would stand as one of the guests." Nick looked up hopefully. "Well." A beat. "Will LaCroix be there?" "Yes. He's agreed to be my best man." "He's agreed?" "Er, not exactly. But he hasn't said no." Janette exhaled a sigh. "Well, I won't say it won't be difficult. To see you married to your beloved mortal. Just as it has not been easy seeing LaCroix with Fleur... Miranda," she corrected herself. "But I suppose that I can--" She gasped. "Oh, that was a big one." "What is it?" asked Nick, alarmed. "What's wrong?" "He kicked me." She hesitated, but then firmly grasped Nick's hand and pressed it to her abdomen. Nick splayed his fingers over her stomach, enthralled. was what he had sensed when he had entered her presence, the radiance that he had never before seen in a vampire. It was the greatest power, the greatest miracle, the reason for the Enforcers taking Janette into their protection. It was the ultimate triumph-- life from death. Nick pressed his ear to her stomach, listening to the boy's heartbeat. Janette wrapped her arms around her former lover, master and brother, and laid her cheek atop his head. *** Nick was whistling cheerfully when he exited Janette's apartment building. He got into the Caddy, shut the door--and saw Tracy's green face. Simultaneously, Nick's weak nose picked up the distinctive, rotting, chemo-metallic smell on the wind. Vanderdecken Plaza was only a few minutes away from Janette's home. Nick revved his engine. *** Mist drifted over the surface of the Thames, Kai reflected, in much the same way it drifted down sunken graves. He shook his head ruefully. He stood at the very top of Tower Bridge, a meeting place where he and Ever could be certain they would not be disturbed. His sharp ears picked up the occasional sleepy sounds of the Tower ravens, the beefeaters making their tours of the grounds, and the various ghosts making their own rounds. Then they detected the sound of an approaching vampire. Kai turned, and beheld Ever Winterborn. The first thing he saw was Ever's eyes, great deep brown wells like a hound dog's. Gradually, he noted the older vampire's unruly straw- colored thatch of hair, his well-tailored but somehow rumpled appearance, and the single black glove that he wore, but the eyes remained paramount, stubborn with the inborn pig-headedness of the peasantry rather than the regal birthright of a noble, and possessed of an occasional sliding and sinking that betrayed a refusal to acknowledge personal responsibility for anything. "I was told that you had something to discuss with me." His voice was nondescript, a sound that would be easily forgotten except that his eyes forced one to remember. "I was wondering when you'd track me down. Honestly, with what I'd heard of you, I thought it would be sooner." Despite himself, Kai was startled, so much so that all he could manage to say was "Excuse me?" Ever stepped forward cautiously. "I was told that you know a doctor." Ever stopped. Kai held out Julian's photograph. "Is this him?" "Yes. I--that is to say," Ever stuttered badly, "I'm afraid I don't understand." "Well, that makes two of us." Kai put his hands in his coat pockets. "What did you think I was here for?" "I assumed you wanted to know what happened between Conroy and your son." *** Sliding along a back wall, Nick stripped off his gloves. His gun would be useless against a fellow vampire, but his hands might save his or Tracy's life. The smell was terrible, even worse than before; it was so bad that even Nick's poor sense of smell could detect it easily. "Trace," he hissed over his shoulder, "get back to the car before you make yourself sick!" "I'm fine," she returned hoarsely, the movement of her lips slightly hindered by the still unfamiliar fangs. "Come on. Let's end this." Silently, the two moved forward towards the smell. *** "What do you know about Dennis's death?" Kai asked sharply. Ever answered simply, "I was there." @}----- London: 1921 Conroy poked his companion. "Look at that tanked bastard." Ever looked. At the other end of the nightclub was a young gentleman, obviously drunk and possibly drugged as well, and very depressed- looking. "What about him?" "I want him." Ever scowled, thoroughly disgusted. "Glutton. We just ate!" Conroy only grinned, an action which stretched his already taut skin even further over his skull. "You can't be serious. Conroy, take a good whiff of him. Whiskey, vodka, cocktails, heroin... He's too smashed to even make a decent after-dinner mint!" "Fine, then. I won't share." @}----- "You know how the hunt is," Ever reminded Kai quietly. "All game is fair." Kai didn't respond. Where had he been in 1921? That was nine years before he had stumbled into Black Falls, and three years after Clarissa had died. And when had Dennis started using heroin? No, that much Kai knew. "You know why he started doing heroin? Because I wouldn't let him enlist in the army in 1915. He was eighteen, a grown man, I had no right to stop him." He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Life's a bitch." "But she's a good ride." The German cocked his head, the gaze from his deep brown eyes flowing like wine over Kai's body. "What did you want to see me for, if not for this?" "Your hand." He scrubbed his fingers over his scalp. "What exactly did Julian promise you? Did he say he could repair your hand?" Ever cradled the gauntleted appendage as though it were his firstborn child. "N-no, not exactly. He said he'd be interested in trying to help me." *** Tracy pressed one hand to her mouth, digging the fingers of the other into the hole below her cheekbone. With Nick three paces behind her, Tracy zeroed in on the nachzehrer. He was holed up behind several trash cans. She drew her gun, a completely useless reflex action, but it did give her some measure of comfort. Silent despite the rough ground, she drew forward. "Oh, man," she muttered grimly. "Nick." Her partner peered over her shoulder and flinched at the sight of the dried up, nearly lifeless husk. *** "Did he do anything to you?" "He took some samples from my hand. Blood, flesh... He mentioned something about there being DNA from the... the thing that attacked me... still being present." Kai nodded. Ever held up his hand, encased in its eternal prison. "He told me he would use them to try and reverse the decay." Kai chewed on his lowed lip forlornly, thinking. Of all the good intentions paving the road to Hell, this had to be one of the heaviest. "Here's a friendly piece of advice, Mr. Winterborn. "Don't hold your breath." Ever nodded. His dejection was pitiful to see. "I wasn't planning on it. Will you... are you planning some revenge on Conroy?" "No. I don't think I have the strength anymore." "Well, if it makes you feel any better, someone made certain he paid for at least a portion of his crimes." Kai looked up, confused. "He's been dead for almost a year. I heard he was killed inside a church in Toronto last September." *** As Nick and Tracy watched, the nachzehrer let out a high-pitched groan and suddenly burst into flames. They held up there arms to shield their faces from the searing, foul-smelling fire. In a few moments, he was gone. A light breeze flew up, blowing his ashes into Nick and Tracy's eyes. Epilogue August, 1997: Saturday Night Kai jolted awake when the plane touched down at the airport. He was home, or what passed for home at the present moment. he mused, collecting himself and his carry-on. He felt Tracy before he saw her, felt her warm, glowing presence among the hundred other aimlessly milling bodies. Unbidden, the smile spread on Kai's face. "Child," he murmured, hugging her tightly. "How's my baby girl, eh?" "A hell of a lot better now that you're back." Tracy surprised them both and kissed his cheek. Kai blinked, and then grinned. This time, Tracy did manage not to blush. "I've got a much better idea of what you meant about not segregating myself... and about the bond between masters and fledglings. I've been off my game ever since you left." "But you did all right for yourself anyway." He touched her shoulder with one light finger. "It healed all right?" "How did you know...? Right. Stupid question." Kai smirked. "It's fine. But my nightmares came back." As they walked, Kai slipped an arm around her waist. "I think I can help with that," he said softly, the invitation in his voice crystal clear. Tracy shivered. But this time, it was a pleasant shiver. "Not to be rude, but I expected a bit more of a welcome. Miranda's got her hands full, no doubt. But where's Nicholas?" *** Not even daring to breathe, Nick knelt beside Janette's bed, awestruck. The little child suckling at her breast... The child... "Janette, he's so perfect." Janette was too tired to answer, but she couldn't stop gazing at her son. "He is amazing," Alain agreed softly, standing on the other side of the new mother. His huge almond eyes seemed even larger, all trace of cynicism gone, one hand resting on Janette's shoulder. From the door, Natalie watched, not wanting to intrude on the surprisingly tender tableau. It never ceased to make her eyes open wide whenever she saw such a display of affection from vampires, even from Nick, whom she was more than accustomed to. But what unnerved her more was that somewhere along the way, from first meeting Janette to seeing her in a makeshift maternity ward, Natalie's jealousy towards the one-thousand-year-old temptress had faded. Some other feeling was rising now, still jealousy, but the object was no longer Nick. She watched as Nick stroked the tiny boy's head with its bit of brown hair. Natalie could tell that he was longing to hold the child, but just couldn't bring himself to ask. Nick was taking his sickness very seriously. Unless he took care of himself, he might die tomorrow, and yet she knew how much he still dreamed of a child of his own. she promised him silently. *** On the floor below the Corvina clinic, a standoff was taking place. Julian and Kai stared at each other, one of them miles beyond angry, the other stubbornly standing his ground. At last, one of them broke. Julian looked away. "I want the whole story," Kai demanded darkly, sitting down at his kitchen table. Julian leaned on the back of a chair. "The only way I can permanently reverse this condition is to understand how it comes about in the first place. So I created a laboratory vampire." "Did you intend to create a nachzehrer?" "Do you think I'm completely insane?" "At this moment, I doubt my own sanity too much to dare ask question." "I told Ever Winterborn that I thought I could repair the damage on his hand by studying the DNA left from the nachzehrer that attacked him. I thought it was nonsense; he was brought across over four hundred years ago. I wanted Ever's DNA to make my 'lab rat.'" "But you were right," Kai deduced. "Even without knowing it. The parasite's essence was still active in your samples, and was reborn in that poor excuse for a human being that you pumped full of your concoction." He waited, but Julian would not give him the man's name. "Tracy told me some very interesting things about your Frankenstein's monster. It always preyed in the same area." Julian nodded sullenly. "And it died in a great ball of fire. Very curious." Kai narrowed his eyes. "Care to offer an opinion?" It was not a request. "I planted a hypnotic suggestion to keep him in the plaza area, so I could keep all the deaths in one place." Kai shook his head. "You're not strong enough to hypnotize someone into a deep sleep." "Fergusson had a supple mind." "You mean it was as miswired as yours is." Julian looked away, crushed. "And the spontaneous combustion?" "Not spontaneous. Once the experiment was over, I couldn't keep him, so I gave him a drug to exponentially increase his metabolism and told him not to come back." "And he literally... burned himself out." Slowly, Kai shook his head from side to side. He could not be angry any longer. He could only be sad, and afraid for Julian. "Oh, my friend... my old friend..." He dashed away his tears before Julian could read too much into their meaning. "That was a very kind thing you did for Janette," he began again. Julian, relieved to be changing the subject, shrugged. "Well, I wasn't all that anxious to perform an abortion." "Did you warn her?" Wisely or unwisely, Julian did not hear the cold, dead, powerful emotion in Kai's voice. "Of course I warned her! I refused to let Nick talk me into giving the injections to him." He shook his head. "The last thing I want is for somebody to die at a loved one's hands." Julian swallowed. <> "Not like Mama." Kai threw back his head and laughed. "Benjamin didn't kill your mother, Julian," he said acidly. "She got herself killed." Julian's mouth dropped. "How... How can you say that?!" he asked. "Don't act so betrayed. She knew the risk she was taking, when she began searching for a 'cure.' As Natalie does. And as I did not." He stood up and circled around the table. "You knew. You knew from the very beginning. Yet you never told Diana or me the dangers you were subjecting us to. And what was the result? She died. In agony and in pieces. At my hands. At her hands. But you--you didn't bother to tell me how madly dangerous that concoction of yours was for ten years. Ten years, Julian! Ten years of despising myself. And in that time, I had to tell Miranda that I murdered her mother. Do you have any idea..." Unable to complete the thought, Kai spat at Julian's feet. "I may have killed Diana, but as far as I'm concerned, you're responsible. "And you've compounded your crime, Julian Gorey. Not only did you refuse to accept blame where blame was due, you foisted your mother's crime on to your father, thus giving him nothing but sixty years worth of grief and loathing, and depriving him of a son!" The snow-grey eyes were mere centimeters from Julian's face. He began to sweat. "Ben should be blessing you out right now, not me! You had the chance to reconcile with him a decade and a half ago and you blew it off with a temper tantrum. And that was your last chance, Julian. You won't get another." *** LaCroix's lips hovered thoughtfully before his microphone. "The past," said the Nightcrawler finally, "is often a near thing. Sometimes, the past can step all over the heels of the present... Who can say what we leave behind us as we live out our lives, or what our legacy will be when we are gone? Is it what we do that assures our immortality? Or is it how others perceive what we have done? Tell me, my yearning masses, if you were to die tomorrow, what would you leave behind? A fortune? A massive amount of property, perhaps? So many things that you A spouse, a parent, a child. A child," the Nightcrawler chuckled softly, an insidious sound. "The poor man's immortality. "A spotless reputation or an undiscovered crime. Everything must be left behind for others to judge you by. So be careful, gentle listeners. Be careful what you leave behind along with your 'mortal' remains. Something may come back to haunt you. For my part..." LaCroix trailed off as Miranda leaned in the doorway of the sound booth, her smile knowing and delightfully wicked. "For my part, if I can't take it with me... Then I'm not going." ~Finis--January 19th, 2003~