Lord of the Dance, #9 in the Dance series of Forever Knight fan fiction





 
#9 Lord of the Dance
By Lorelei Sieja 
  A wet tongue lapped at his face, demanding he awake. Nick reached out blindly 
  and patted the furry head of his golden retriever. "Perry, cut that out! Give 
  me a break!" He pulled a pillow over his head. 
  The carouche whined softly, stuffing his nose beneath the pillow to seek his 
  charge again. If he went to the other vampires and begged, they would feed 
  him, but this one was his responsibility. Perry took that very seriously. 
  Although he had only been with this one for a few months, he knew him rather 
  well. Nick was moody. Sometimes arrogant, then humble, alternately depressed 
  or contented, passionate and demanding, this vampire was also cursed with a 
  profound sense of duty. Even on his worst days, if Perry begged hard enough, 
  this one would rise to feed him. 
  Perry was not disappointed. Nick sat up and tossed back the blankets, 
  stretching his arms as he yawned. Perry fetched the bathrobe from the floor 
  and laid it in the blind vampire's lap. 
  "Thanks, boy," Nick said lightly, patting the faithful head. He put it on and 
  cinched the belt. Groping through the lower drawer, he pulled out a soft pair 
  of jeans and put them on as well. "Ok, Perry," he said. "Let's go feed." 
  Perry pranced next to Nick's leg, leaning slightly into it. He guided his 
  charge through the door and straight to the refrigerator in the kitchen. 
  Mission accomplished. His charge pulled out two bottles, cow blood for him and 
  human for the vampire. Perry looked around. He had inadvertently pushed his 
  dish under a chair yesterday while licking it clean. Nick would never find it. 
  Perry pawed at the dish until he could pick it up, and brought it to Nick. 
  Nick took it, turning on the hot tap and rinsed it clean before filling it. He 
  didn't even spill anything this time as he set the dish down on the floor. 
  Just maybe he was starting to get the hang of this, the carouche decided. 
  Nick reached out with his vampiric senses, made stronger these past few months 
  since he lost his eyesight. Only one vampire remained in the apartment with 
  him, and it was not LaCroix. He pulled out the cork and drank straight from 
  the bottle. 
  "Better not let Dad catch you doing that," Tracy said, teasing him. 
  Nick upended the bottle again and took a long swallow. He grinned in the 
  general direction he'd heard her voice. "The cat's away," he pointed out. 
  Hesitantly, he started for the couch. Perry whined mournfully as he left his 
  dish. He had better assist Nick first. It wouldn't take long. When Nick was 
  safely settled on the couch, he bounded back to finish his breakfast. 
  Nick slouched down on the soft leather cushions. He could almost go back to 
  sleep right here. 
  "You are getting to be so lazy," Tracy commented. She laughed. 
  Nick gave her a half-smile, as he mocked himself. "Yep. LaCroix's got me right 
  where he's always wanted. Barefoot and in the bedroom." 
  Tracy plopped on the other end of the couch, shoving Nick's feet out of the 
  way. "Sit up and play with me. I'm bored," she demanded. 
  Nick could always count on Tracy to make him laugh. "So where is everybody?" 
  "Vachon and Urs went to a party at Alma's. Natalie went to buy groceries and 
  LaCroix insisted on going along. She didn't want to take the limo to the 
  store. Then she said it was time to buy a new car again, and that's as much as 
  I heard. They argued their way out the door." 
  Nick nodded absently. He'd heard some of the angry words drift through the 
  layers of his sleep, which had made him vomit again. That in turn annoyed his 
  master, and the argument escalated. He hated it that he was both so affected 
  by their tension and the source of it. It was sort of a catch-22, and yet the 
  priest had been adamant that he remain here with his vampire father and work 
  things out. 
  He had discerned some of Father Pierre's lecture to LaCroix in the bloodkiss. 
  The timid young priest had instructed the ancient vampire on the rules of 
  parenting. "Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up 
  in the discipline and instruction of love." The actual translation would have 
  been "of the Lord", but Nick wasn't surprised that the priest had paraphrased 
  that part. 
  His mouth quirked into an easy grin. The thought of his powerful, vengeful 
  master reduced to silence by the shy holy man was rather amusing. Father 
  Pierre had been instructing Nick for several weeks and was largely responsible 
  for whatever progress Nick had made. That was the only reason LaCroix 
  tolerated him. 
  "I guess it would look rather strange to shop at the Bargain Barn and cart 
  your goodies home in a limousine," Nick said dryly, turning his attention back 
  to his little sister. 
  "Got that right," Tracy agreed. They laughed together. Tracy stared at her 
  handsome brother as the laughter transfigured his face. It was so good to see 
  him happy again. The blindness had dragged on for months... far longer than 
  any of them had ever thought possible. Natalie no longer took weekly x-rays, 
  as his progress was so slight. The ulcer was slowly shrinking, and as yet, 
  there had been no improvement to his vision. Depression and anger had plagued 
  Nick for some time, but finally he seemed adjusted, and if not truly happy, at 
  least, he was dealing with it. 
  "Give me a drink," Tracy said, reaching out for his bottle. 
  "Get your own," Nick replied. He took another deep swallow. 
  "Don't be such a brat. Share!" Tracy grabbed for the bottle again. Nick held 
  on for a moment, then he laughed as he let her take it. Tracy drank and passed 
  it back. Nick had been ordered to drink only pure human until he was well 
  again. Tracy was also allowed only human, as she was considered an infant 
  vampire. Once she had drunk the Raven blood cut with wine, and it had made her 
  so sick she'd wished she weren't immortal. It was part of the reason why she 
  hadn't gone to the party tonight with Vachon and Urs, besides the fact LaCroix 
  still didn't like to leave Nick alone. 
  "So how's work going for you," Nick asked. He yawned again. He'd slept all 
  day. He wasn't really tired, just lazy. Tracy was right. 
  "That Will Ledford is an ass," she snorted disgustedly. "I can't believe that 
  man is a cop. He's a sleaze." She related some of the things he had done to 
  earn such a scathing report from her. Nick laughed while she talked. She had a 
  way with words... probably because she had so much practice, and her brother 
  seemed to hang on her every word. 
  Perry had finished his meal and listened to them for awhile. His charge had 
  lain around long enough. It was time for more exercise. Perry gently took his 
  harness in his mouth and carried it over to drop it in Nick's lap. 
  Tracy giggled. "Um, Nick? I think he's trying to tell you something." 
  "Come with us?" Nick asked, as he sat up. "Let's go to the lake or something." 

  She shrugged. "Yeah, sure. But, you'd better finish dressing. It's not summer 
  yet." 
  Nick pulled on a shirt, a lightweight jacket, and a pair of shoes. Then he 
  buckled the harness on Perry. Tracy didn't wait by the door, though. "Let's 
  not walk," she suggested, "when we can fly?" 
  A grin split Nick's face. He missed flying! It wasn't something he felt he 
  could do safely without his eyesight. He had to concentrate very hard to stay 
  grounded, to know which direction he was facing at any given moment. Perry 
  could keep him from bumping in to things when he walked, but the carouche 
  couldn't help him to find his way home. Perry was bonded with Jody Fraser; 
  "home" was always where ever she was. 
  Together they lifted up through the skylight and stood on the rooftop. Nick 
  felt the moon on his face. It filled him with excitement. Even Perry seemed to 
  quiver in expectation. Then they lifted off and soared out over the city 
  towards the lake. Tracy flew effortlessly, no longer even able to remember 
  what life had been like before she could fly. Perry followed her eagerly. Nick 
  clung to Perry's harness, trying to ignore the fear and unease that was always 
  a part of flying now that he struggled with his disability. 
  Then they landed on the beach. Nick listened to the sound of the waves and 
  felt reassured. He was grounded again, and aware of direction. They walked 
  along the beach for a while, getting closer and closer to the water. It was 
  too early in the spring for the mortals to be here - the water was still 
  frigid, but the gentle April breeze was warm. 
  Perry tugged them closer to the water until he could walk out in it, dunking 
  his head beneath the cool waves. Tracy squealed when he splashed her. Nick 
  just laughed. Perry loved to hear him laugh, so he first dunked himself, then 
  he shook all over, spraying Tracy again. Nick laughed so hard, that Tracy 
  pushed him. He sat down in the cold water, pulling her down with him. They 
  rolled around, getting soaked, and getting sand in their hair. Perry pranced 
  around happily. His charge needed to loosen up more. Tracy was good to keep 
  around, as she brought out the child in everybody. 
  Before long Perry heard Nick shiver, though. Perry took his hand and tugged 
  him towards the shore. It was time to get them home. Tracy pouted, not ready 
  to leave yet, until Perry scolded her with a bark. 
  "Okay, okay, I'm coming," she agreed. 
  Perry smiled. These vampires weren't very well trained yet, but he was working 
  on it. 
  Tracy became more concerned as they flew homeward. Her brother was still too 
  thin, and he was shivering hard before they landed on the roof of the Raven. 
  LaCroix would be furious with her if he found out. 
  Nick felt dizzy and nauseated again. He leaned against the wall for a moment 
  until the sensations passed. "I'm going to wash up," he said. "I feel dirty." 
  "You look a mess, too," Tracy said, quirking a smile to hide her concern. 
  "Want some company?" 
  Nick shrugged. "Okay." 
  ***** 
  Marnie Kelischek rubbed the ache in the small of her back with one hand while 
  the other patted her swollen abdomen. "Okay, Junior," she said to her unborn 
  child. "We've got three months left. You have got to give me a break, or we're 
  not going to make it." 
  The fetus made no sign that it had either heard or understood, as it continued 
  to flip about, poking her up under the ribs. She winced, gasping for a breath. 
  "Who's great idea was having this baby anyway," she grumbled. 
  She put on her jacket and tried to zip it around her girth. She had gained a 
  lot more weight than her obstetrician had recommended, and yet he had ruled 
  out twins. It was definitely just one baby, and one big mama. "Get more 
  exercise, eat well, but skip desert and cut back on salt," he had advised with 
  as much enthusiasm as one would exhibit reading toilet tissue advertisements. 
  Yeah, how was she to get more exercise when she was the size and shape of a 
  tugboat? And her husband was on special assignment somewhere in Bolivia, so 
  even their favorite bedroom exercises made more awkward by her ever-expanding 
  girth were out of the question. Well, she would walk to the end of the 
  driveway to check the mail, and walk back again. That was about all the energy 
  she could spare, before she had to get ready for work. 
  The night was unseasonably warm and the air held the promise of spring, she 
  thought. A few crocuses were pushing up through the slush and mud. It seemed 
  like this year winter would never end, as they'd been pelted with snowstorms 
  for months. Now at last the dirty snowbanks were shrinking almost fast enough 
  to watch. 
  "Good ev'ning, Marnie." 
  She jumped at the deep voice of her neighbor. "Oh, hi, Brendan. You startled 
  me." 
  "Sorry. How's the baby doing?" 
  "Don't ask," she grumbled. She pulled open the mailbox and reached for the 
  magazines and junkmail. 
  Brendan put an arm around her sympathetically. "I want take care of you, 
  Marnie. You work too hard." 
  "Stop that," Marnie snapped, shrugging out of his embrace. "You just don't 
  take 'no' for an answer, do you! I love Robbie, and I'm not leaving him." 
  Brendan narrowed his eyes at her. "But does he love you? I would never go off 
  and leave you at a time like this! He is irresponsible." 
  Marnie spun away. Her neighbor was getting more obnoxious. At first, he had 
  just seemed overly friendly, but now she was tempted to get a restraining 
  order on him. He called, he sent her letters, he was always watching her... 
  she felt her privacy was invaded. "Just leave me alone, Brendan!" she said 
  firmly as she marched up her drive. 
  Her backache was worse. Maybe she'd have to call in sick tonight? What would 
  they do without her? Her students had eight more weeks before graduation; they 
  couldn't afford for her to be absent. The Academy hadn't hired a substitute 
  for her either, since her baby wasn't due until July. The pains were suddenly 
  worse. Marnie dropped her mail and cried out. 
  Brendan rushed to her. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" 
  "I. Am. Not. Your. Love!" she spat between clenched teeth. "Ohmygosh!" 
  She collapsed against him, suddenly grateful he was there. "Brendan!" she 
  screamed, as the pains increased. "Call 911 right now!" 
  "Let's get you inside, sweetheart," he said soothingly. "Come on, honey, lean 
  on me. That's right." 
  Marnie closed her eyes and let him help. Panic tore at her. She and Robbie had 
  been trying for five years to conceive... they wanted this baby so much! But 
  now, not like this! Please, don't let the baby come too early! 
  Brendan carried her then, and laid her on the couch in the living room. He 
  looked around for the phone. 
  "The kitchen!" Marnie shouted. "South Wall!" 
  He dashed through the room and grabbed the portable phone from the hook. He 
  dialed 911, and gave them directions. The dispatcher spoke calmly, reassuring 
  him that an ambulance was on the way. "Have the mother lie down, elevate her 
  feet, and help her to relax with deep breaths." 
  Brendan listened, relaying the information to Marnie. He brushed at the short 
  bangs over her forehead. "Sh... honey. It will be fine," he said. 
  Marnie was in too much pain to argue. To hell with her class tonight! Sooner 
  or later they would figure out that she wasn't going to show. 
  ***** 
  LaCroix ascended the stairs with heavy tread. That obdurate woman would bring 
  a whole new meaning to the word "eternity"! He was immeasurably heartened that 
  he had not yet done the unthinkable and given her immortality. Hell would 
  freeze over, so the saying went, before he would speak to her again! He turned 
  the key to unlock the door and entered into his private domain. 
  The living room was a mess. Incriminating empty bottles littered the coffee 
  table and dark wet muddy spots stained the carpet beneath the skylight. He had 
  been a fool to think that he required companionship through the ages. He was 
  much happier living alone. Well, those ungrateful offspring, those selfish, 
  thoughtless progeny, they would clean this entire apartment! He tossed his 
  coat in the direction of the couch and marched off in search of the guilty. 
  Laughter issued from the back den. They were relaxing in his hot tub, while 
  trashing his apartment, and feeding off his supplies, living off his wealth! 
  He threw open the door, letting it bang into the wall, and glared at them. 
  They were giggling. Tracy giggled daily; LaCroix was growing somewhat 
  accustomed to the inane cheerful sounds, but he could not recall ever having 
  heard his son giggle. Not in 800 years! He was stunned speechless. 
  "Oh! Dad! I mean, LaCroix! You're back!" Tracy shouted gleefully. 
  "Good evening, LaCroix," Nick gasped, sputtering at the water Tracy splashed 
  in his face. 
  They both climbed from the hot tub, clad only in their all-together, and flung 
  their arms around him. LaCroix stiffened. They were getting his clothing wet. 
  His progeny were so happy, that they didn't seem to notice his ire or his 
  unresponsiveness. 
  "We've been waiting for you," Tracy said. She kissed him, and started to undo 
  the buttons on his shirt. 
  Nick's hands went straight for his belt, loosening it with practiced ease. 
  LaCroix still had not decided whether to succumb to their game, or to use the 
  belt on both of them. 
  "And why were you waiting for me," he said coolly. 
  "Because we missed you," Nick answered. 
  They could not have missed him too much. LaCroix saw twin wounds on his son's 
  neck. He caught the faint scent of his favorite as the small rivulets stained 
  the pale throat. A quick glance at his daughter revealed nearly healed bite 
  marks as well. 
  LaCroix's shirt was removed and his trousers quickly followed suit. Although 
  he was still irritated, he did not have absolute control over his desire. 
  Already he felt a stirring in his loins. His daughter took his right hand; his 
  son took his left. Together they tugged him towards the hot tub. LaCroix 
  heaved a sigh and allowed them to pursue their frivolities a while longer. 
  They proved even more energetic and entertaining than he could have imagined. 
  Nicholas settled behind him and massaged his shoulders with his strong, 
  masculine hands. Tracy caressed first one foot and then the other, gently 
  sucking on each toe as she finished. They pampered and coddled him, bringing 
  him intense pleasure until he was thoroughly sated. 
  Nicholas leaned back against his chest and closed his eyes. In less than a 
  moment he fell asleep. Tracy sat opposite him, still grinning broadly. 
  "What?" LaCroix snapped. 
  "Do you feel better now, Dad?" 
  LaCroix harrumphed. "So. You knew, did you? Is that what this little affaire 
  d'amour was all about?" 
  "No," she said slowly. "This just sort of happened. And I didn't know until I 
  saw it in your blood. Do you care to talk about it?" 
  "No." 
  "Okay. That's fine," Tracy said. She'd heard the argument this morning, surely 
  everyone had. "But, why are you so opposed to her getting another car? Nearly 
  everybody owns one. A car is her independence. If you demand that she give it 
  up, you might as well expect her to go naked clad only slave's chains." 
  "As I recall," LaCroix growled, "I said I did not want to talk about it." 
  "Sure," Tracy continued. "I don't mind at all. It doesn't matter that Father 
  Pierre told us that talking about our problems could help Nick to heal. It 
  isn't my concern if the constant strife between you and Nat is tearing at him. 
  You know, lots of couples argue. You two just have to learn how to fight 
  fair." 
  LaCroix snorted disdainfully. "And how does anyone fight fairly with such a 
  woman when all her hits are below the belt?" 
  Tracy shrugged impishly. They were silent for a time, relaxing in the hot, 
  soothing water. LaCroix shifted slightly, still careful to support his son and 
  hold his face out of the water while he slept. 
  "And how was he tonight?" he whispered. 
  Tracy's smile faded. How was Nick? How could anyone describe him with mere 
  words? "He was okay, I guess. We went to the beach, and I think I wore him 
  out." 
  "But?" LaCroix could hear the unspoken concern. 
  "I don't know. He seems sad. I mean, we laughed, and we played, but there's 
  something missing. He's not himself." 
  LaCroix rested his chin on the top of Nicholas's head. He breathed in deeply, 
  drawing in that familiar scent. His hand lightly fingered the prominent ribs. 
  Human blood was having little effect on the younger vampire. About all he 
  could drink and keep down was vampire blood. LaCroix wasn't sure if Nicholas 
  had realized that yet, but between Urs, Tracy, and him, they managed to keep 
  hunger from him. 
  "So," LaCroix said, drawing the word out on a long breath. "You believe that I 
  am in error to deny her a new car, even though she could have unlimited use of 
  my limo, and it was a car that nearly ended her still mortal existence?" 
  "Yep," Tracy said. "Modern women value their independence. And I think you 
  must admire that in her. Otherwise, you would have had a relationship with 
  some medieval concubine who would kiss your butt forever." 
  "Watch your tone, child," LaCroix warned. 
  "Yes, sir," Tracy whispered instantly. 
  He smiled. This newest child was rather delightful. LaCroix sensed that she 
  truly did love him. She was the mortar for the family, holding them all 
  together. Naturally, LaCroix was the foundation; Janette, Natalie, they were 
  but building blocks, but Nicholas? ...he was the keystone. Without him, the 
  family would not remain for long. LaCroix would continue, a barren rock 
  foundation... forever and for always alone. 
  "Come, Nicholas," LaCroix said, nudging his son. "I wish to get out. Wake up." 

  "Comme vous desirez, mon maitre," (As you wish, Master) Nicholas whispered 
  sleepily. He reached out and let Tracy pull him to his feet. 
  LaCroix passed them towels since they were dripping water on the carpet. 
  "After you have dressed, my children, you will clean up after yourselves," he 
  admonished them. He retrieved his own clothing from the floor where they had 
  been tossed and went into his room to dress. It was too early for bed, and the 
  thought of sleeping alone tonight was not especially pleasing, although, 
  thanks to his children, it was no longer a hardship. The phone rang, just as 
  he was reaching for it to give her a call. She must be ready to apologize, he 
  thought with a smirk. He would not tell her immediately, but he had already 
  forgiven her. 
  Only, it wasn't Natalie. LaCroix pretended that it didn't matter. He set his 
  jaw defiantly. Well, she could just stew all night for that! 
  The caller was Nicholas's Captain Reese from the bar, blabbing on something 
  about having found a perfect job for Nick, and could he come up now to discuss 
  it with him; it was really very urgent. 
  LaCroix glared. Those manipulative children! Their evening of solicitous 
  seduction had all been a ruse! He'd break their pale necks, the little demons! 
  "Certainly," he said, deceptively calm, to the captain before hanging up. 
  Nick pulled on some jeans and a silk shirt, not bothering with shoes. It was 
  night, but dawn felt not far away. He was starting to wake up again; the short 
  rest had been enough to revive him. He raked his hands through damp hair to 
  straighten it before returning to the living room. 
  Tracy came out just then as well. LaCroix flew at them, grabbing them by their 
  throats and slamming them into the far wall. He pinned them there with a grip 
  of steel. Tracy gasped, instantly submissive, but Nick clung to LaCroix's 
  shirt, disoriented by the sudden movement and terrified. LaCroix grit his 
  teeth, wishing the boy would just get well. He grew tired of this. 
  "What is it that you want from me," he demanded, "that you play this little 
  charade?" 
  "Nothing, LaCroix," Tracy insisted, blinking back a tear. 
  "This little manipulation, it's all so I will let you return to work, isn't 
  it, Nicholas! You deceitful children! Why didn't you just ask?" His grip 
  tightened. 
  There was a knock at the door. No doubt it was Captain Reese. LaCroix shook 
  his children fiercely before releasing them. They remained there, unmoving and 
  submissive. LaCroix went to open the door. 
  "Good evening, Mr. LaCroix," Reese said, extending a hand. LaCroix merely 
  stared at it. Reese waited, then shrugged as he put his hand down. He would 
  continue to treat this man like he would any other, hoping that one day the 
  cold, abusive father would accept a simple handshake. He didn't think LaCroix 
  was rude because he was black. No, LaCroix was rude to everybody. 
  Reese looked up and saw Nick and Tracy. He smiled at them, but a puzzled frown 
  crossed his face. Tracy was spending entirely too much time here. And she and 
  Nick both looked scared half to death. Perhaps he had come at a good time? He 
  stepped into the room and took a seat, not waiting for an invitation. 
  "How are you feeling, Nick?" he asked, as a way of getting started. 
  "Much better. Thanks for asking." 
  "Well, I've been trying to find a place for you, Nick, something at least part 
  time, until you're fully recovered, and I think I finally found it. How would 
  you like to teach at the Academy?" 
  "Teach?" he whispered. He reached to rub his throat, but his hand was 
  trembling. "Engendrez, je n'ai pas su a ce sujet, je le jure!" (Father, I knew 
  nothing about this, I swear!) 
  Reese glanced from Nick to LaCroix. Something was going on here. "It was 
  really Tracy's idea," Reese continued, wishing something would start making 
  sense. 
  Tracy glanced at LaCroix. "I don't know what he's talking about," she 
  stammered. 
  Reese felt the tension in the room triple, if that was even possible. He 
  decided he'd better stay and talk things out, until he felt Nick's dad was 
  under control. He didn't want to have to send someone to break up a domestic 
  dispute. Nick might never forgive him. 
  "Nick, did you ever meet Marnie Kelischek? She's been teaching part-time at 
  the Academy, and she announced a few months ago she was pregnant. They didn't 
  try to get a sub for her, because the baby wasn't due until after graduation, 
  but last night she went into labor. There are some other complications as 
  well. Anyway, she's in the hospital now, and it looks like she could stay 
  there until the blessed event, which could be any time in the next three 
  months. So, she has two classes that desperately need a teacher. This is only 
  part time, and only temporary. I wouldn't have even thought of you, but Tracy 
  mentioned the volunteer work you've been doing at the mission day care, and 
  she said you were great with kids. So what do you think?" 
  Teach? Nick loved to teach. And it didn't seem to matter if the kids were 
  preschoolers or teenagers. They were all fascinating, with their youthful 
  enthusiasm, their ignorance, and the belief that they would live forever. 
  "What classes?" he asked hesitantly. 
  "Psychology and Criminal Investigation," Reese said. 
  Nick blinked, trying to keep the excitement from clouding his judgement. 
  Besides, LaCroix would never let him go. The ancient was upset about something 
  again. Nick was certain he didn't particularly care what it was, but in this 
  mood, Nick didn't dare to ask him anything. "I'll consider it," Nick said, as 
  he had to tell the captain something. "I'll let you know tomorrow." 
  "Well, think hard, Nick. This could be great for you, and they're really 
  desperate. I told them about your recent disability, and they didn't think 
  that would be a problem. They will even assign you a work-study student as an 
  assistant." 
  Nick leaned against the wall feeling suddenly very weak. "Yes, Captain," he 
  said. "I will let you know." 
  Reese stared at them. Neither had moved from the wall. He hesitated. There was 
  something very wrong. He glanced at LaCroix, and was somewhat relieved to see 
  that the father was no longer furious. LaCroix held the door open waiting for 
  him to leave. 
  "Good night, then," Reese said. "Call me." 
  LaCroix stared at the door after the captain retreated. Then he glared at his 
  children, looming ominously over them. "You knew nothing of this, Tracy?" 
  "No, sir," she said truthfully. 
  "When was the last time you talked with Captain Reese," LaCroix demanded, 
  standing mere inches from his son. Nicholas never could tell a lie 
  convincingly. LaCroix would have no difficulty identifying any deception. 
  "I don't... I don't remember," Nick stammered. "Maybe a month ago." 
  LaCroix drew in a deep breath and released it. "Then, this evening was not an 
  attempt to sway my opinion?" 
  "No, sir," they responded in tandem. 
  LaCroix pulled them close then. "Perhaps I reacted prematurely." 
  Tracy forgave him at once. She kissed his cheek, then moved out of his arms 
  and began to collect the bottles she and Nick had left laying around. Nick 
  clung to him, though. Most of the time Nicholas managed quite well, but sudden 
  movements still upset him, causing him to lose track of where he was in 
  relationship to the world. He was again lost and fearful. LaCroix held him 
  close a moment longer. 
  "You do like to teach, Nicholas, do you not?" LaCroix prodded. 
  Nick hesitated to answer. Only when the comforting arm tightened did he chose 
  to be honest. "Yes, LaCroix. I do. But I didn't figure you would want to me 
  accept this. I'll just tell him no, not this time." 
  "Nonsense," LaCroix said magnanimously. He knew he should offer his son 
  something as a reward since the younger vampire had finally displayed 
  appropriate behavior. "Your captain is right. This position is part time, and 
  only until the end of the semester. I think you should accept." Then he 
  recalled that his anger had originally been with his lover... "But, perhaps we 
  should check with your doctor?" 
  Nick almost laughed in the ancient's face. He struggled to stay serious. This 
  gave LaCroix the perfect excuse to contact his lover yet save his pride. "Oh 
  yes, certainly. I agree," he stammered. 
  LaCroix went to pick up the phone, but Tracy slammed the door of the 
  dishwasher and rushed to stop him. "No, sir, I think this is too important for 
  a phone call. Maybe you should go ask her in person?" 
  LaCroix arched his eyebrows at his youngest. "It is getting late, child," he 
  reminded her. 
  Tracy shrugged. "Not for an ancient like yourself, sir. You've got time to get 
  there, and if this... discussion... lasts beyond sunrise, then, maybe it would 
  be wise to stay the day there. We'll be fine without you, just this once." 
  This time he knew he was being manipulated, but they were being so obvious 
  that it did not annoy him. He wanted to speak to Natalie. They had much to 
  discuss. So far, their disputes always included raised voices and ended with 
  her fleeing to her apartment for the day, taking advantage of the sun to 
  ensure she'd be left alone. It wasn't "fair fighting", as that contemptible 
  priest suggested that they should practice. And every time Nat and he argued, 
  he could sense his son's distress. It would bring on another bout of the 
  vomiting, setting his recovery back yet again. 
  "I will go," LaCroix decided. "But Nicholas, you will call your Captain now 
  and accept this position, before they find somebody else. Behave yourselves." 
  With that last admonishment, he lifted through the skylight and was gone. 
  Tracy stared at Nick, holding her breath. Neither moved for many long moments. 
  Then as if on cue, they both whooped joyously. 
  "Party time! Party, party, party!" Tracy shouted. 
  Nick grinned. "But Tracy, we had better set some alarms, so that the place is 
  cleaned before he returns tomorrow. 
  "Yeah, right. Like you would ever hear them," she grumbled. She didn't know if 
  he had always been a sound sleeper, but waking him up now was something only 
  LaCroix and Perry could do. She patted the golden retriever. "You'll help us, 
  won't you, Perry?" she asked. 
  Perry woofed. He wouldn't let harm come to his new charge. It was a little 
  strange, these feelings he had developed for Nicholas. Jody had been his 
  responsibility for such a long time, but there was something very special 
  about this vampire. His childishness or his charm, or whatever. Or maybe it 
  was just a guy thing, the carouche wondered. 
  Vachon and Urs burst into the room laughing. Alma's party had finally broken 
  up for the day. "That was something, Knight," Vachon said excitedly. "Wow! I 
  have never seen Alma so angry before!" 
  Urs agreed. "If Patrick hadn't been there, I don't think you'd have to guess 
  hard what would have happened." 
  Nick listened, trying to follow their conversation. Vachon seemed to feel the 
  entire story was amusing, but Urs sighed, sounding relieved and weary. 
  Tracy leaped over the couch to grab Vachon in a bear hug. "LaCroix's gone for 
  the day! It's party-time, and you can tell us all about it!" 
  Perry saw that his charge still had not moved away from the wall. He took 
  Nick's hand in his mouth and gently led him to the couch. Nick patted him 
  gratefully, then coaxed him to sit on the couch beside him. Perry jumped up, 
  circled around a few times, and plopped down, laying his head in Nick's lap. 
  Sure that the vampire wouldn't go anywhere without waking him, he closed his 
  eyes, intending to nap through their silly conversations. 
  They were such children. Although he was a very young carouche, just over 
  seven years, he had been a very mature dog before. He was willing to 
  acknowledge that LaCroix was master of this house. The ancient vampire was 
  powerful, and had saved Perry's life as well as his daughter Jody's. Perry 
  owed him and would be obedient to him. But LaCroix was the only one. Perry 
  heaved a sigh. It wasn't very thoughtful of the ancient to leave him here to 
  baby-sit, without even asking him if he'd mind. Well, LaCroix didn't strike 
  him as the thoughtful sort, anyway. 
  Vachon sat on the chair and pulled Tracy to his lap. "There was this pimp that 
  showed up and crashed the party," he began. Urs interrupted his story to add 
  details, like what the man looked like, or how he kept posturing. Nick would 
  have preferred that she let Vachon get to the point, but Tracy seemed to enjoy 
  the embellishments. The pimp apparently made a play for Alma. She had shrugged 
  it off, taunting him. 
  "She said, "Not tonight dear, I have a headache," like some mortal housewife! 
  It was so funny. I've never seen Alma show an ounce of imagination before, and 
  she was a riot. Anyway, the pimp starts telling her that he's got "something" 
  that cures headaches, and he started to really get to her. 
  "Finally, she turned on him, and started giving back as good as he gave. She 
  had him half undressed right there in the middle of the party, and Patrick 
  threw him out, threatening to call the police on him for indecent exposure!" 
  Urs laughed. She used to be attracted to that sort of controlling, abusive, 
  father-figure, and the fact that she could see him now for what he was 
  encouraged her. "The really funny thing was, when he hit the pavement, his 
  pants all tangled around his ankles, his hands tied behind his back, he 
  snapped out of the trance, and couldn't seem to remember any of it." 
  Vachon interrupted. "But Alma was still livid. She started to go after him. I 
  think she would have drained him, but Patrick took her to bed!" 
  "Patrick!" Nick and Tracy exclaimed. Somehow, they just couldn't imagine the 
  good-natured, slightly heavy-set red-haired vampire with the sexy, brainless 
  beauty. It was a mismatch if ever they'd seen one. 
  "Yes, Patrick," Urs answered. "And they never came back out of the bedroom, 
  either. Vachon took over as host for the rest of the party!" 
  They had a good laugh then, as they imagined Patrick and Alma together. 
  "Nick's got a job," Tracy said, passing him the phone. "If he calls Reese to 
  accept, that is." 
  Nick fingered the buttons, punching in the correct sequence. "Hello, Captain? 
  I'd like to take it," he said. 
  He nodded absently as he listened to Reese. The captain was pleased. He had 
  satisfied the commissioner, that the blind detective would not be in a 
  dangerous position, LaCroix should be satisfied that Nick hadn't been laid 
  off, and the dean at the Academy would be grateful. It had been a good night 
  for the captain. 
  "I'll have someone drop off a set of keys, Nick. You'll have the weekend to 
  get ready, find the manuals, lesson plans, whatever. Classes are ninety 
  minutes long, with a half-hour break in the middle, from 7 PM until 10:30. 
  Okay?" 
  Seven o'clock wouldn't be a problem yet, but before the end of the semester it 
  would still be fairly light out. Well, they'd manage somehow. "Thanks, 
  Captain," he said, before handing the phone back to Tracy. 
  "So, tell us about this job?" Urs asked. 
  "I'll be teaching at the Police Academy," Nick explained. "Urs, would you mind 
  reading the lesson plans to me this week end?" 
  She hugged him. A month ago he would not have asked for help. "I'd be glad 
  to," she whispered into his ear. 
  "This calls for a party!" Tracy announced. She swept the clutter from the 
  coffee table, dumping it unceremoniously onto the floor. Urs scowled at her, 
  picking the items up and setting them on the kitchen table, where a blind 
  person wouldn't trip over them. 
  Tracy took a box of cards from her pocket. She shuffled them easily. "What's 
  the game, Nick?" she asked. 
  Nick smiled wistfully. Cards and sex was sort of a tradition with Tracy. "I'll 
  pass, Baby," he said. 
  "No, you won't, bro. This is a specially marked deck I bought just for you." 
  She slapped one card face up on the table. Taking his hand, she directed him 
  to feel the tiny raised bumps in the right corner. "This card is the ace of 
  hearts." 
  Nick felt the odd bumps. He hadn't taken the time to learn to read Braille, as 
  he had assumed his sight would have returned long before now. Vampires were 
  very tactile, sensitive to touch, and the bumps were easily discernable. 
  "Now this one," Tracy said. 
  Nick felt nothing. The card was smooth. 
  "That's face down. Turn it over." 
  In a few minutes, Tracy had gone through every card in the deck. Nick 
  discovered the patterns, the bumps for spades, clubs, hearts, and diamonds, 
  and the bumps for the number. 
  "Thanks, Trace," he said. 
  "It's nothing. Let's start with Crazy 8's, to give Nick more practice, before 
  we try poker." 
  Nick had never played Crazy 8's before. The rules were simple, though, and 
  before the end of the game, he felt confident that he could "read" the cards 
  correctly. And the game was simple enough that he could teach it to the kids 
  at Father Pierre's day care, "Mary's Lambs". 
  They played several hands of Poker then. The steel shutters closed, casting 
  the room in shadow. Still they played. Nick's fangs descended first, a sign 
  that he was overtired, and Tracy's soon followed. Perry jumped down and shook 
  himself. He lowered his front paws, arching his back, and yawned widely, 
  feeling his own fangs threaten to erupt. He woofed at the children to get 
  their attention. 
  "What is it, boy?" Nick asked, still playing the game. 
  "Woof!" Perry repeated, more insistently. 
  "Does he have to go out?" Tracy asked, yawning. 
  "No. Sun's up," Nick said. 
  Perry grew frustrated. Nick reached out to pat him, but Perry took the hand in 
  his mouth. He held it firmly, without breaking the skin, and started to tug. 
  "Hey, Perry! Cut that out," Nick ordered. 
  "The carouche has more sense than all of us," Urs observed. "It is time for 
  bed." 
  "Let's just finish the hand?" Tracy urged. 
  Perry did not let up. Nick put down his cards and got to his feet. "Okay, boy. 
  I'll come. Good day, everyone." 
  Then Perry released the hand, taking his place beside Nick's shin that he 
  could guide him to the bedroom. 
  Tracy put the cards away. "Good day," she said. Vachon nibbled on her ear, 
  reminding her that the end of the game did not have to mean the end of the 
  fun. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her to bed. 
  Urs looked around the apartment and sighed. It was a mess, but she was too 
  tired to deal with it now. "I hope I wake up before LaCroix returns," she 
  whispered. 
  Perry woofed again. He would not let them get into trouble. 
  LaCroix flew dangerously low over the city to save time. At this hour of 
  predawn few mortals were about, and few of those were attentive, but that 
  often lured his kind into a false complacency which had proved deadly in the 
  past. He landed in the parking lot, behind the shrubs, then strode swiftly to 
  the apartment entrance. It was locked, but that didn't last long. When Natalie 
  was expecting him, he would fly right to her window, but LaCroix didn't think 
  shattering glass would be a good way to begin this confrontation. 
  He stood outside her door and listened. Soft, romantic music played inside, 
  and he heard her weeping. He straightened, feeling a smile form. Knowing he 
  had the ability to make her cry gave him a sense of power and control that 
  pleased him. He knocked lightly. 
  The door was flung open, and Natalie threw her arms around him. "Lucien! I'm 
  so glad you came," she sobbed. 
  He comforted her, stroking the chestnut hair still tangled and damp from a 
  recent shower. Her face was devoid of make-up; her eyes were red and puffy, 
  making her look more like some waif, than the aggravating adversary of their 
  most recent battle. She was absolutely adorable. He stepped into her 
  apartment, letting the door close behind him. 
  The place was littered with packing boxes! She was moving out? Fear stabbed 
  him, then moments later it turned to ice and rage. He shut his eyes on her 
  betrayal, striving for control, lest he drain her at once. 
  "Oh, Lucien, I've been such a fool," Natalie whispered. She pulled out of his 
  embrace. "I must look a fright. I was so angry with you! When I got home, I 
  wanted to wash you right out of my hair, like the song says, and I was never 
  going to see you again! But I missed you, and I knew I couldn't live without 
  you. So we have to learn how to live together. Nothing is the same anymore!" 
  LaCroix rubbed at his forehead. She wasn't making any sense. "You are going 
  somewhere?" he challenged, gesturing the boxes. 
  "Well, yes, haven't you heard a word I said?" 
  LaCroix went to her couch and shoved a box aside before sitting on it. His 
  elbows rested on his knees and he leaned his forehead in his hands. "I've 
  heard, my dear. I just do not quite follow." 
  Natalie stared at him. The pillar of strength, the indomitable, the powerful, 
  the often-abusive vampire looked lost. She didn't understand. She knelt before 
  him, resting her hands on his. "Lucien. I'm moving out of here, and into your 
  apartment. If you still want me." 
  He inhaled, and her scent filled him. Damn the woman! He didn't need her. He 
  didn't need anyone. 
  "Lucien, I realized that as long as I had this apartment to run to every time 
  we had a disagreement, then we would never get anything settled. I know that 
  it won't all fit there. It seems a bit crowded there already. Maybe we can put 
  a lot of this stuff in storage. But I need to do this. Please say 'yes'?" 
  LaCroix looked at her then. Her wide-set eyes were brimming with unshed tears, 
  her mouth was parted, expectant and hopeful. He held her future in his hands. 
  Gently he put his hands on her face and gazed into her eyes. He wanted to tell 
  her so much; but how could he let her see how vulnerable she made him feel? 
  No, that was unacceptable. He broke the moment. 
  "I have been considering an addition," he said. 
  Natalie laughed nervously at the incongruity of the remark. For a brief 
  moment, she thought she had caught a glimpse of the soul behind the ice blue 
  eyes, a moment of hope. Then it was gone. "An addition?" 
  "Yes. A Master Bedroom Suite, I believe is the current vernacular. I have 
  noticed that my home is becoming overrun with children, carouche, and 
  flea-bitten furballs. An addition would restore a sense of peace to my 
  existence." 
  "Sydney does not have fleas!" Nat stated firmly. 
  A smile turned up the corners of his lips. The tense moment had been broken 
  and their relationship was restored. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed 
  her. 
  "This suite," Natalie began, trying to concentrate although he was making it 
  difficult. "Where would it be? How will you do this?" 
  "There is room. I own the Raven and the buildings to either side." 
  She squirmed off his lap, more to tease him than anything else. "Since you're 
  here, then, you could help me pack." 
  LaCroix had had enough for one night. He stood, clasping her wrist firmly. "I 
  will do all of your packing. Tomorrow. I will hire it done. Come with me. 
  Now." 
  Natalie's breath caught in her throat. Normally, she hated the dictatorial 
  mode, but at the moment, it was incredibly erotic. "Yes, Lucien," she 
  whispered. 
  Marnie awoke when the nurse bustled in to check the fetal monitor. She didn't 
  feel rested at all, and worry had made her irritable. "Don't suppose you'd 
  hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign outside my door?" she snapped. 
  The nurse ignored her tone, as she slipped the digital thermometer into a 
  disposable plastic sleeve and held it in front of the pregnant mother. 
  Marnie opened her mouth, glaring at the nurse for the brief moments until it 
  beeped. 
  "When's the doctor coming in?" she asked. 
  "Oh, he usually makes his rounds between seven and eight." 
  Another hour. It was too early to call anyone and nothing would be on TV, and 
  it was too late to go back to fitful slumber. The doctor had mentioned last 
  night that she would need to stay bedridden now until the baby was born. She 
  was never going to make it! She cursed under her breath. 
  "Would you like me to send in your husband?" the nurse asked, trying to be 
  helpful. 
  "He isn't here," she said. He was a self-employed, free-lance writer, but he 
  was currently working on assignment in one of the war-torn places of the 
  world. He was gifted at what he did, their six-figure bank account was proof 
  enough, but Marnie often wished he'd settle down and get a real job, something 
  nine to five, and be home more. Especially now, with the baby and all. 
  "Sure, he is," the nurse exclaimed. "Why, he's been here every minute since 
  you arrived." 
  "Brendan! He is NOT my husband!" Marnie said furiously. "He is a nosy, 
  interfering neighbor, and I don't care if I never see him again!" 
  The nurse seemed upset. "He's not your husband? But he came in the ambulance, 
  and he filled out all of your paperwork last night." 
  "Look, nurse," Marnie declared, looking for the nametag pinned to her left 
  breast. "Judy. Brendan is not my husband, nor is he the father of my child. He 
  is a pain in the ass. If you let him in my room or anywhere near me, I'm 
  calling the police. Got it?" 
  Nurse Judy flustered, waving her hands uselessly. "Um, sorry, Ma'am, um, you 
  just rest now, you hear? Good day!" And she quickly exited. 
  Some small part of Marnie's conscience felt guilty. Nurse Judy didn't earn 
  enough to be treated so rudely. But she must be used to it, Marnie decided. 
  Sick people were often rude and irritable. What did the nurse expect? 
  Perry was awake again. It was still daylight, yet the carouche was certain 
  that it was important to wake up now. He lifted his head and sniffed the 
  apartment carefully. No odd scents - no smoke or mortal intruders. Ah, that 
  was it. The master and his mortal mate would be returning soon. It was time to 
  wake the children and put them to work. 
  He licked at Nick's face first. It took talent to wake this one. Perry had to 
  push through the psychic link first, to reassure the young vampire that no 
  danger existed. Then it took persistence. After Nick was up, Urs generally 
  followed. Perry went next to Tracy and Vachon's room. He jumped on their 
  chests, barking and licking. If they ignored him long enough, then he pulled 
  their covers onto the floor and licked their bare feet. If they still 
  persisted in laying around, he nipped at their toes. That would bring out 
  Vachon's fangs with a growl, but the vampire conquistador was all bark and no 
  bite. 
  Perry returned to Nick's room to check on his progress. Nick sat on the edge 
  of his bed still a little groggy. Perry tugged him to his feet and helped him 
  to find the bathroom. One of the vampires would end up showering with him. 
  Perry left him there. Assured that the children were all awake, he jumped back 
  up on Nick's bed for a short nap. 
  Nick was given the task of loading the dishwasher. He wasn't very adept at it, 
  but it was something he could do. The green bottles would all be washed and 
  boxed before they were returned to the vampire-owned winery. Vachon was almost 
  as useless around the house. He was given the task of making up the beds. Urs 
  sighed as she saw her master stretched back out on top of the haphazardly made 
  bed. Tracy vacuumed the dirt and sand from their trip to the beach, while Urs 
  scoured the bathroom. As night approached, the apartment looked presentable 
  again. 
  The sun set and still LaCroix had not returned. Tracy flopped into his 
  favorite chair. "I want to go somewhere," she said petulantly. "I want to do 
  something. Hanging around on my night off is not what I had in mind." 
  "Do you want to come with me?" Urs asked, as she put on a coat. 
  Tracy grinned, but then she glanced at her brother. "No, I guess not," she 
  said. LaCroix would not want her to leave him alone, and Nick would never 
  consent to going along. 
  Urs had joined a quilting club that met weekly, after she'd helped Tracy with 
  her signature quilt that she made for LaCroix. Nick seemed to feel that 
  quilting was "acceptable work" for her, and even encouraged her. 
  "Go ahead," Nick said. "You don't really want to be here when he returns. We 
  don't know if they've made a truce yet or not." 
  Vachon jumped. "You mean they were arguing again? I'm out of here." 
  The Spaniard grabbed his black leather jacket and stuffed his arms into the 
  sleeves. "Come on Urs. I'll give you a lift." 
  "Nick, I'll be back in a couple of hours. We can read then, if you like," Urs 
  offered. 
  "Coward," Tracy called to Vachon's retreating back. He winked at her over his 
  shoulder before the door closed. 
  Nick felt for the deck of cards on the coffee table, then pulled them out and 
  shuffled them. "You don't have to keep me company, Tracy. You can go out 
  anytime you wish." 
  She slid to the floor and sat on the other side of the low table. "That's 
  okay. What's the game?" 
  The phone rang, interrupting them. Nick grabbed the receiver and responded. It 
  was Natalie. She clucked at him for a while, reminding him to feed well, get 
  plenty of rest, dress warmly... Nick only half listened to her. "Oh, and 
  Nick?" she said. "Lucien and I are going to look at some cars. It may be 
  awhile before we return. Are you okay?" 
  "Fine, Nat," Nick insisted. "Have fun." He hung up. 
  Tracy grinned. "So, how long to you think they'll be gone? How long will it 
  take to buy a car?" 
  "Ten minutes to buy the car," Nick said. "Three hours to argue about make, 
  model, year, and financing." His mouth quirked into an easy grin. 
  Tracy laughed with him as she dealt out the cards. 
  Nick had a hard time concentrating. He lost at Crazy 8s and at Poker and then 
  at Gin. Tracy was a poor winner, giggling as she gloated. Nick tackled her, 
  rolling on the floor and tickling her. It was fun to make her squeal. She 
  never stayed angry long, and making up was half the fun. She tried to tickle 
  back, but Nick kept a straight face long enough to convince her that he wasn't 
  affected. Her cries grew louder and more insistent, her anger sweetened her 
  blood. Nick's fangs descended. He pinned her wrists to either side of her face 
  and he hissed at her playfully. 
  "Just a little louder, my pretty," he teased. 
  "Nick, you are such a brat!" Her own fangs erupted at the sight of his. He was 
  so beautiful when he was aroused. 
  Nick lowered towards her throat, following the scent of her shampoo and the 
  sound of her blood throbbing in the jugular vein just beneath the surface of 
  her skin. 
  Tracy tilted her head, making her throat more accessible to him. She struggled 
  still in his arms, but now she wanted only to return the bloodkiss. One hand 
  came free. She hugged him firmly as she drove her fangs into him. His essence, 
  the taste of honey and wine, filled her mouth, along with vague impressions of 
  his current mental state. She read his arousal, and his suffering. Nick was as 
  restless as she was, only he felt powerless to change. Tracy sucked harder, as 
  her own passion crested, leaving her shuddering beneath his lean body as she 
  felt his weight upon her. 
  "Well, at least we agreed on one thing," Nat said, as she opened the door of 
  her new car. They had disagreed on everything else, but both wanted the black 
  exterior, slate gray interior. Nat had compromised endlessly, until she drove 
  home the enormous sport utility vehicle with four-wheel drive and less than a 
  thousand miles on a new-car warranty. LaCroix had wanted to buy new, she 
  argued for used. She would have been willing to settle for a smaller model, 
  but he reminded her that they were a large family now, and there might be 
  times when they would all wish to travel together. Then he had paid to have 
  the side windows darkened. She did feel a lot more confidant driving the heavy 
  vehicle. If she'd been in such a car the night of her accident, perhaps she 
  would not have been injured. 
  LaCroix held the back door to the nightclub open for her as he listened with 
  his superior ability. His eyes closed then, and a tear slipped between the 
  long, dark lashes. Natalie touched his face tenderly. "What is it?" 
  "Nicholas and Tracy. Can you not feel their happiness?" 
  Nat closed her eyes and tried to feel with skills she did not yet possess. She 
  was loosely linked to LaCroix somehow through offering him her blood. She was 
  incapable of using the skills or manipulating them, only in accepting whatever 
  he permitted her to see. Now, she was filled with instant desire, her heart 
  pounded rapidly against her ribs, and she felt warm and weak. She also felt a 
  sense of satisfaction that was not normally a part of mortal sex. This was 
  more like the pleasure of fine dining. 
  She was becoming more curious about vampire mating. What she shared with 
  LaCroix was incredible. It was so erotic and fulfilling that she knew she was 
  spoiled to ever enjoying a mortal lover again. But what she sensed between 
  Nick and Tracy right now was something even more intimate. And they weren't 
  even lovers! They were more like siblings, united by the same master. 
  LaCroix smiled at her seductively, as she felt the tie with his children fade. 
  She knew he was deliberately taunting her, whetting her appetite and not 
  fulfilling it. He wanted her to join him completely. Natalie knew she would, 
  but now was not the time. Nick needed him right now. Nick was so vulnerable, 
  and he was forging a closer, more trusting relationship with his master. She 
  did not want to do anything to jeopardize their tenuous bond. 
  LaCroix ascended the stairs to his apartment and pushed open the door. His 
  children glanced up at him from where they lay on the floor. Nick's blue eyes 
  were open and guileless, as he licked the last of Tracy's blood from his 
  fangs. The gesture was innocent enough, yet LaCroix felt a stirring in his 
  loins. Tracy looked at him with impish delight. She had sensed his discomfort, 
  the little vixen! 
  "Welcome home, LaCroix," she said, giggling softly. "What did the doctor say?" 

  "About what?" Nat asked. 
  Nick rolled off of Tracy. He sat for a minute, reaching out with his hands 
  until he felt the coffee table. Then he slid back to lean against the couch. 
  "About my new job. That was what he came to see you about last night, I 
  think." He grinned impishly as well. 
  LaCroix heaved a sigh. He would permit them the harmless jest at his expense. 
  It was worth it to see a smile on Nicholas's face. 
  "Nicholas's Captain Reese offered him a temporary, part-time position teaching 
  at the police academy," LaCroix said. 
  "That's wonderful!" Nat exclaimed. "Oh, Nick! I think that's great! When do 
  you start?" 
  "Tomorrow night," he said slowly. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and 
  shook them. "I'm supposed to go check out the room, and pick up the books." 
  "An excellent idea," LaCroix stated, grateful for the opportunity to steer the 
  conversation away from himself. "And a perfect time test drive Natalie's new 
  vehicle." 
  "You got a car! Now! Wow!" Tracy screamed with predictable enthusiasm. She 
  flew to the window to peer out in the dark. "Where is it? Is it that black 
  bus! Whoa! That's big enough to haul the cavalry in!" 
  Natalie blushed in embarrassment. The car was far more pretentious than she 
  was used to driving. 
  LaCroix took his son's hand and pulled him to his feet. Without speaking, he 
  sent a question to him. Was he feeling all right? Was he up to the journey? 
  Nick smiled shyly and nodded. "Let's go." 
  With a knuckle LaCroix brushed the drops of blood from twin wounds at his 
  son's throat and licked the small offering. He took the jacket Natalie held 
  out and helped Nicholas to put it on. Although he had put away his heavier 
  long wool coat with the warmer weather of early April, he still dressed the 
  younger vampire warmly. Nicholas seemed abnormally affected by the 
  temperature. Nicholas did not object as he pulled up the zipper and wound a 
  scarf around him. LaCroix felt a thickness in his throat. Would his son refuse 
  such a small gesture of affection when his sight returned? LaCroix blinked 
  away the poignant thoughts. He turned and whistled for the carouche. 
  "Come, Perry." 
  "Oh, Lucien, no! Not dog hair and drool in that new car," Natalie complained. 
  Nick grinned as he heard the playful banter between the couple. Perry brought 
  his harness over and Nick knelt to put it on. Then three vampires, a mortal, 
  and the carouche went for the test-drive around the city of Toronto. 
  At the Police Academy Nick didn't have to use his keys to get inside as 
  several other teachers were there, using the quiet weekend to catch up on some 
  grading. Nick felt them stare at him, and could almost hear the unspoken 
  question, how would a blind man control a class? He introduced his family 
  then, first LaCroix, then his lover, then Tracy. He just said her name, and 
  not her family relationship, though. That she was his sister was not common 
  knowledge among the mortal population. 
  When they met the stern vampire father, the mortals backed away, ending any 
  further polite conversation. Nick grinned, sensing the effect his master had 
  on them. 
  Tracy found his classroom easily. "I remember this place," she said. "I had 
  Human Relations in this class with beak-faced Bender. I swear that old woman 
  wouldn't know a relationship if it jumped up and bit her in the butt." 
  "Such disrespect," LaCroix tsked, faintly amused by his youngest. 
  Nick reached out to the wall of the room and walked the entire circumference. 
  He felt the cold, uneven cement block of the wall, the smooth chalkboard, a 
  few posters, the fire alarm, a thermostat, and the windows. He walked a second 
  time, this time feeling for the rows of desks, and moving between them. When 
  he found the chalkboard again, he turned to face the classroom and counted the 
  steps to the teacher's desk. 
  He pulled out the teacher's chair and sat in it, pulling up to the desk. He 
  smiled then. "Well?" he asked. "Do I look like a teacher?" 
  Tracy laughed. "If I'd had such a good-looking hunk for a teacher, I'm sure I 
  would have been expelled. You just can't do that with students these days." 
  Nick grinned. "That bad, huh? Got any suggestions?" 
  "Shave your head bald? Wear a monk's robe?" 
  Natalie huffed. "Okay, you two. Nick, what do you need?" 
  Nick pulled open the drawers and had her tell him what they contained. He 
  fingered everything, memorizing the contents. With their help, he cleared off 
  the desktop. The box of facial tissue was moved to the windowsill. The in-out 
  basket was put on a filing cabinet. Nick didn't want anything on the surface 
  of the desk, so he wouldn't be knocking things to the floor in his clumsiness. 

  He found Marnie Kelischeck's lesson planner and grade book, but the teacher's 
  books were missing. She must have taken them home with her. He found an extra 
  copy of the student texts in a closet. They would do for now. He wasn't 
  concerned about winging it. 
  LaCroix surveyed the room with a protective eye. Everywhere he looked he saw 
  potential danger. If the student desks were knocked out of place, they could 
  trip his son. The curtains were insufficient to protect him. They would have 
  to be replaced before May, when the longer days would pose a threat. 
  When Nick felt he had memorized the room, he had Tracy show him the way to the 
  nearest men's room. The bouts of nausea were less frequent, but still posed a 
  problem. 
  "Okay, I'm ready to go," Nick said, sensing that LaCroix had just about 
  exhausted his patience. 
  "Not quite," the ancient said evenly. 
  Nick cocked his head curiously. What had he missed? 
  "You should know the way to both the basement and roof, and at least two other 
  exists, in case of emergency," his master said. 
  Natalie and Tracy didn't understand, but Nick did. Surrounded by mortals, 
  their fresh blood pounding with their fragrance and vitality, Nick could be 
  overwhelmed. The basement and roof might be a safe haven should he feel 
  himself lose control. The two other exists were just his master's paranoid 
  overprotectiveness asserting itself. He listened attentively, as he added the 
  new knowledge to his store. 
  LaCroix saw the dark circles shade his son's pale face, watched as the boy 
  shuddered away a yawn and struggled to keep his fangs concealed. Such a short, 
  simple outing, and he was nearly exhausted. He worried that this teaching 
  position was going to prove too much too soon, but now his son had his heart 
  set on it. LaCroix also felt his excitement. Perhaps, with careful planning, 
  Nicholas would manage after all. 
  "We'll go now," he said, ending the women's conversations. He moved swiftly 
  towards the door and held it for them. "Tracy, my dear," he said smoothly. 
  "Perhaps you would like to ride up front this time?" 
  She willingly traded seats with him. "Sure! Unless, of course, I get to 
  drive?" 
  "Not on your life," Nat said with a grin. "I've never had such a nice car 
  before. I'm going to be selfish, at least for the first 100,000 miles." 
  LaCroix slid in the back with his son. The carouche jumped in the rear, where 
  the third seat had been folded down. The carpeted floor space gave the 
  carouche a more comfortable place to ride. Nick leaned against the seat, 
  letting his eyes close, as the car's engine purred to life. LaCroix reached 
  out through the link, offering comfort. 
  Before very long Nick leaned closer to him, snuggling up beneath a protective 
  arm. The younger vampire took his wrist gently, stroking the veins on the 
  strong hand with a slow, sensuous motion. LaCroix felt a shy question across 
  the link. He answered his son by bringing his wrist to Nick's teeth to feed. 
  LaCroix held him close, relishing the sense of warmth that nurturing this one 
  brought. His blood filled the younger vampire. Nicholas sucked slowly, half 
  asleep. His eyes remained closed. LaCroix felt his teeth withdraw, although 
  Nicholas remained in his embrace. The boy had fallen asleep. 
  Nat parked behind the Raven, turning off the engine. Turning around, she saw 
  Nick's limp form half sprawled across LaCroix's lap and looked at her lover 
  questioningly. "Is something wrong?" 
  LaCroix tightened his hold almost imperceptibly, as though he could protect 
  his son from all the dangers of the world. "No," he sighed. "I will take him 
  to bed. You, my dear, should return to your apartment and direct the movers. 
  Tell them what you would like moved into my apartment now, and what can be 
  safely stored." 
  Nat nodded happily. "I'll see you later then." 
  Tracy jumped out and held LaCroix's door for him. The ancient master easily 
  got to his feet, carrying the grown vampire child effortlessly. As Perry 
  jumped out beside him, Natalie pulled away and drove off. LaCroix let Tracy 
  open the door to the apartment as well, before dismissing her. 
  "Thank you, my child," he said. "You may go. The night is still young. Perhaps 
  you would like to find amusement for a few hours before dawn?" 
  Tracy grinned. She'd enjoyed the night with her brother so far, but the music 
  of the Raven pulsed with possibilities. She sensed Vachon was nearby. Maybe 
  they'd take the motorbike out for a spin? She patted her brother's cold, still 
  face affectionately. "Later, bro," she whispered. Then with a quick peck to 
  her master's cheek, she was gone. 
  LaCroix hesitated. Nicholas might sleep for hours, but undoubtedly he would 
  wake up confused and disoriented. LaCroix entered Nicholas's room and stared 
  at the bed. Perry jumped up, taking a mouthful of the covers and pulling them 
  down. LaCroix laid Nick between the sheets, pulling off his shoes. He glanced 
  at the golden retriever curiously. "You will stay with him?" he said, 
  somewhere between a question and a command. 
  The carouche carefully stepped around the sleeping vampire as he pulled up the 
  covers. Then he lay down beside him, resting his muzzle on Nick's chest. He 
  looked up at the vampire master with doleful golden eyes. LaCroix nodded. Of 
  all the carouche he had ever met, this one was the most intelligent. 
  LaCroix filled his glass and relaxed in his favorite chair, opening one of 
  Nicholas's textbooks. Psychology, the study of the human mind... it appealed 
  to his sense of humor that a vampire should teach this subject. It was one 
  area in which Nicholas was quite knowledgeable. As a hunter, he had studied 
  the way they thought for centuries. It had been a matter of survival then to 
  know one's prey. 
  LaCroix glanced around his little apartment. Everything was tidy right now. 
  Urs had seen to that. He knew that shortly his space would be cluttered with 
  Natalie's things, and boxes of her things and the mess that remodeling always 
  created. Normally, he would move in to a motel until the work was finished, 
  but he was loath to disrupt his son's routine, and the loft was much too small 
  for all of them. 
  Suddenly his stomach twisted painfully as LaCroix felt his son's pain. He 
  clenched his teeth, keeping the contents of his stomach down with sheer 
  willpower. He son was not as fortunate. 
  LaCroix drained his glass and set it aside. Feeding his son so frequently made 
  him hungry. Rising, he went to comfort his favorite child. 
  Nicholas trembled visibly when LaCroix stepped into the room. His hair was 
  matted and blood sweat dripped from his forehead. Blue eyes rimmed with gold 
  stared at him vaguely. His shirtfront and the bedding were soaked in blood. 
  "I'm sorry, LaCroix," he whispered. He shrank back as LaCroix approached. 
  The ancient felt anger and irritation, but not at Nicholas exactly. He drew in 
  a breath and concealed his emotions. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, 
  refusing to breathe in the stench. "Do not concern yourself, my child," he 
  said soothingly. 
  Nicholas still trembled, although he struggled to calm himself. He rubbed at 
  his sightless eyes. 
  Perry pulled the corners of the blankets together and tugged the bundle off 
  the bed onto the floor. LaCroix was beginning to think very nice thoughts 
  about the carouche, and that maybe they should keep him in the family, until 
  he saw the beast lap up Nick's vomit. The ancient shuddered himself, as his 
  own stomach again threatened to disgrace him. 
  "Come, my son. Time to change. Then do you require more sleep?" 
  Nick unbuttoned his soiled shirt. He was still tired, but the nightmares had 
  driven away any sense of peace. Sleep would be a long time returning. His 
  fingers fumbled as the vague fears returned. 
  LaCroix pushed his hands aside and finished the task for him, then guided the 
  younger vampire into the shower. Although Nicholas had showered earlier, the 
  smell of sweat, fear, and vomit clung to him. 
  Nick leaned against the cold tile wall as the hot water pelted against his 
  back. He felt so dirty. In his nightmare, he was covered with filth. He 
  shivered uncontrollably. Someone in the nightmare was pursuing him, hurting 
  him, overpowering him. There was terror... but it was not LaCroix. Nick had 
  caught a glimpse of the face of a mortal. He did not understand. He slammed 
  the doors on the memory, forcing them away. He did not want to be there now. 
  He was here, in LaCroix's apartment, surrounded by those who cared about him. 
  For once LaCroix was not the source of his misery; he was. The ulcer that kept 
  him weak was the result of six years of trying to change his feeding habits in 
  his quest for mortality. The blindness was the result of staring at the sun 
  too long. Natalie assured him that when the ulcer healed, his eyesight would 
  return as well, but he knew that she really couldn't say that with any 
  certainty. He was the only vampire she'd ever studied. No one really knew the 
  effect the sun would have on his eyes, as it had always been fatal in the 
  past. He should consider himself lucky to still be here at all. 
  A knock rapped softly at the door. "Nicholas, are you all right?" LaCroix 
  asked hesitantly. 
  Nick smiled in spite of his pain. The master was really trying this time. 
  Something Father Pierre had said to him must have sunk through two thousand 
  years of conditioning. He had never known LaCroix to be so solicitous. He 
  turned off the water and pushed aside the shower curtain. Pulling a towel 
  around his middle, he opened the door and took his master's arm. "Yes, 
  LaCroix," he answered. "I am fine." 
  LaCroix knew it for a lie. Nicholas was still terrified by the phantoms of his 
  dreams. The ancient vampire was outraged at the mortal father that had so 
  frightened the child Nicholas had been. If he wasn't already dead, LaCroix 
  would kill him again! He felt his son's grip tighten as the younger vampire 
  sensed his irritation, and LaCroix forced the dark thoughts away. 
  "Urs has returned. After you've dressed, she is ready to read your texts to 
  you, my son. And you should feed as well." 
  Nick accepted the pajamas LaCroix placed in his hands and sat on the corner of 
  his bed to pull them on. The bed had been freshly made - obviously the work of 
  his lover. He shrugged away his embarrassment at being such a burden. He had 
  to get better, because an eternity like this was unthinkable. He tied the 
  string in the waist of the cotton lounge pants and pulled on the tee shirt. 
  Perry rubbed against his leg, wagging his tail. Nick followed the carouche to 
  the couch. 
  Urs smiled up at her knight. His hair curled boyishly when wet, but there was 
  an oldness about his eyes. Nick was brooding again tonight. "I'm ready when 
  you are, Nick," she offered, flipping through the pages of the boring looking 
  textbook. 
  Nick stretched out on the couch, laying his head in her lap. "Read on, my 
  little bear," he said, forcing a smile. 
  LaCroix filled a glass and set it on the coffee table within Nicholas's reach. 
  The fragrant aroma already caused the younger vampire's nostrils to flare and 
  his fangs to descend. He smiled at the couple. "I shall be downstairs, if you 
  need me," he announced. With a nod in the direction of the carouche, the 
  ancient left. 
  Urs read on and on, page after page of terms and boring studies and stupid 
  conclusions and pointless examples. She read even though she was yawning out 
  of sheer boredom. 
  Nick's eyes were closed. Twice she had thought he had fallen asleep, but when 
  she stopped reading, he asked her if she had finished the book. She hadn't 
  realized what a sacrifice this would be. She had even managed to put the dog 
  to sleep. 
  Tracy and Vachon came home, interrupting them briefly with their noise. Urs 
  watched them enviously as they pulled their bedroom door closed behind them. 
  How much longer until she and Nick could be similarly engaged? When Natalie 
  came home carrying a box of things and muttering obscenities under her breath, 
  Urs closed the book with a final sounding thud. 
  "Can I help you?" she offered hopefully. 
  "Men! I don't care if they're mortal or im, they don't get any smarter with 
  age," the coroner complained. "Wouldn't you think that "FRAGILE" meant 
  something like "handle with care"? If I told you something was Fragile, would 
  you toss several books in on top? They broke a vase and a glass horse Nana 
  gave me on my ninth birthday!" 
  "I'm sorry, Natalie," Nick offered, absently rubbing at his stomach as he sat 
  up. 
  The gesture wasn't lost on the coroner. Contritely, she forced a smile and 
  lowered her voice. "It was just a knick-knack, and maybe I can superglue it 
  together," she said. "What are you still doing up?" 
  "We were studying for his class," Urs explained, as she stood. "But we're 
  going to bed now." 
  Nick chuckled. "Guess I don't have a choice," he muttered good-naturedly. 
  "Good day, Nat." 
  Nat watched them disappear into Nick's room. It annoyed her somewhat that he 
  was so sensitive to her moods. Still, his progress was so slow, that anything 
  she could do to help was worth the effort, as she knew only too well that it 
  had been her protein shakes that caused this in the first place. 
  LaCroix came home shortly, a cardboard tube tucked under one arm. "How did the 
  packing go, my dear?" he asked, as he hung his coat in the closet. 
  "They're all done. They'll start carting boxes here tomorrow. Are you ready 
  for this?" 
  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "For your company, yes. For the 
  disruption, no, I don't think anyone is ever really prepared for that." 
  Then he pulled several large sheets of paper out from the tube and spread them 
  on the kitchen table. Natalie saw that they were architect's drawings. On 
  closer inspection, she saw the new master bedroom suite LaCroix had talked 
  about. 
  "What do you think, my dear? You may have some say in the color scheme, 
  although I must refuse "orange" as a possibility." He shuddered at the memory 
  of the ghastly color she had painted her own apartment. 
  Natalie laughed. She had never really intended to paint it orange. She'd had a 
  little pink left over from the bathroom, and her neighbor had had some beige 
  left over. She mixed the two together, and it looked like a nice, cheery 
  orange in the can, but it dried so much brighter, that the walls nearly glowed 
  in the dark. "I think I would prefer a light blue, if that's okay with you," 
  she said. 
  She drooled over the plans for a while longer. The addition was nearly as 
  large as the entire apartment now! Bedroom, master bath, and sitting area, and 
  all of it just for them! She felt truly pampered. And, if LaCroix was putting 
  this much into his living space, then moving on must not be an immediate 
  possibility. She wasn't ready to make any more major changes in her life yet. 
  LaCroix smiled then as he looked in on his son before retiring for the day. 
  Perry and Sydney, Urs and Nicholas were all in bed together, curled up in a 
  tangle of arms and legs, fur and hair, and all sleeping contentedly. He wasn't 
  certain which of the creatures was having such a positive effect upon his son. 
  It wasn't Urs alone, but perhaps it was the combination of the three, vampire, 
  carouche, and cat. It was quite a menagerie. 
  Perhaps he had been wrong to treat Nicholas's last dog so harshly. It had 
  infuriated him that Nicholas would prefer to live with a smelly mongrel than 
  with him! It was jealousy, pure and simple. Now, with his son back home where 
  he belonged, LaCroix might be so inclined to tolerate another dog... if the 
  time ever came that Perry could return to his life with Jody. 
  Natalie came up beside him, startling him slightly. He'd been so deep in his 
  thoughts that he hadn't felt her approach. "They look happy," she whispered. 
  LaCroix pressed a kiss on her forehead. "That they do, my dear. Perhaps we 
  should join them?" 
  "I don't think there's any more room in that bed." 
  LaCroix laughed. "You vixen. I meant, that we should retire, ourselves." 
  Natalie tugged on his arm playfully. "I know. Let's go. I think you owe me a 
  backrub tonight." 
  "I do not," he insisted. "I rubbed your back last night. When is it my turn?" 
  "On Father's Day and your birthday. The rest of the year it is my turn." 
  Nick smiled as he heard their playful banter. Natalie brought out a side of 
  LaCroix he hadn't known existed. LaCroix was sometimes playful with him, but 
  more often he was superior, harsh and demanding. Natalie seemed to keep him 
  balanced. Nick still didn't like it that she had sided against him and with 
  LaCroix in the last fight. For years she had taken Nick's side. Still, it was 
  a small price to pay, if her presence meant less fights in the long run. 
  Monday afternoon finally came. Nick showered and dressed, feeling more alive 
  than he had in weeks. Excitement bubbled through his veins. He was almost too 
  worked up to feed; only the knowledge that LaCroix would refuse to let him out 
  of the apartment until he had fed well forced him to sip at a beverage and 
  keep it down. 
  Then he corralled Urs's help again, as he described to her what he wanted 
  drawn on a sheet of paper, the notes and outlines that he would later have a 
  student transfer to the chalkboard. Although Nick could not see, many of his 
  students might be visual learners. He would not let his handicap affect them, 
  if he could help it. Urs seemed more interested this afternoon. He'd heard her 
  boredom last night. He was grateful for her help, but perhaps she wouldn't 
  mind if he had LaCroix read aloud from now on. He was so used to hearing his 
  master's voice and LaCroix could make a computer operating instructions manual 
  interesting reading. 
  "Good luck tonight, bro," Tracy said, as she pecked him on the cheek. "Do you 
  want me to drop by later, see how you're doing?" 
  "No, Baby," Nick answered. "That won't be necessary. You'll have enough to do, 
  dealing with your new partner." 
  "Don't remind me," she groaned loudly. "See you later then!" 
  Natalie checked the flask in his coat pocket, and brushed at his hair. Nick 
  pulled away from her nervous hovering. "Good night, Nat," he said firmly. "I 
  will be fine." 
  "I know. Call me, if you need anything." 
  She kissed him as well, before grabbing her crutches and purse. "Good-bye, 
  then," she said. 
  Nick turned to Urs. "Don't say a thing," he warned. 
  She laughed lightly. "They only worry about you, because they love you." 
  "Love me to death," he grumbled, zipping up his jacket. He whistled for Perry 
  and buckled the dog's harness with practiced ease. 
  Then LaCroix came. "I will see you to work," he announced. 
  "No, LaCroix," Nick said. 
  The ancient glared at his son, annoyed that the first night would begin with 
  confrontation, but Nicholas continued before he could say a word. 
  "That isn't necessary. Urs is going to drive me in with the Caddy. I know that 
  when the days get longer, I will need the extra protection of your limo's 
  darkened windows, but I was looking forward to a drive with the top down. The 
  nights are warm enough now." 
  LaCroix swallowed back his ire. Nicholas was not defying him, just stating an 
  opinion that differed from his own. It wasn't really important to accompany 
  him tonight. LaCroix was just feeling a little panicked that his son would be 
  out of his sight while he was still so weak. 
  "Carouche," LaCroix said. "Protect him with your life. He means all the world 
  to me." 
  Perry woofed once submissively. He seemed to smile as his wagging tail shook 
  his entire body. Nick patted him affectionately. 
  "Good night, Father." 
  LaCroix watched as his son departed. It would be another long night for him. 
  Nick listened intently. The halls sounded different tonight. But then, they 
  had been mostly empty yesterday when he had come. He had walked all over then, 
  becoming familiar with the building, learning where his classroom was, as well 
  as the restrooms and teacher's lounge. Now, he felt oddly conspicuous. He was 
  the "new kid on the block". Nick swallowed past his nervousness and continued. 

  Twenty-five mortal hearts were beating as he stepped inside his room. All 
  their conversations stopped. Nick squared his shoulders and made his way to 
  the desk. The chair was pulled away. It would not push in either. Nick 
  frowned, momentarily disoriented. The desk was backwards. Someone was playing 
  a prank. 
  Of course, Nick realized, smiling as he remembered. He was the substitute 
  teacher. It didn't matter that these were young adults and not fourth graders. 
  He would have to assert himself immediately, or teaching them would be 
  impossible. 
  "Good evening, students," he said. Some girls giggled softly. The reaction 
  surprised him until he caught their whispered comments. 
  "What a voice!" 
  "Yeah! I could listen to that all night!" 
  Silly young girls, he thought. "I heard that your teacher and her unborn baby 
  are both in stable condition. However, she will remain in the hospital until 
  the birth, and will not be returning this term. I will be taking over for 
  her." 
  So far, so good. He heard a few other whispered remarks. Some questioned his 
  ability to teach because he was blind. Some just seemed hesitant. 
  Nick called to Perry and together they approached the first desk on the right. 
  "Please tell me your name and briefly why you want to be a cop," Nick said. He 
  would need to commit their names to memory. It didn't really matter to him 
  what they told him, they could recite nursery rhymes for all he cared, but it 
  would give him time to learn their speech habits and their scent, enough to 
  get started teaching them. 
  The first student stuttered nervously. "Esteban Baule. I, I, um, because, I 
  don't want to go to a four-year college," he said. 
  Some of the others sniggered at his answer. Nick was only puzzled. Something 
  about Esteban didn't seem quite truthful. He would have to learn more about 
  him. But later. Esteban was in the first desk on the right, he had a deep, 
  gravelly voice and his speech was hesitant. That he smelled like a pine forest 
  was also unique. "Pleased to meet you, Esteban," Nick answered. He advanced 
  onto the next student. 
  The first ten names were memorized. The second row of students had given more 
  thoughtful answers to his request, but then they had had a little longer to 
  think about it. He wasn't going to grade them on their responses, anyway. 
  The eleventh student sounded rather obnoxious. Nick noted his elevated pulse 
  when he spoke, and suspected he had just found the prankster. "I'm Roger 
  Crumb, and I want to be a cop so I can drive fast," the student answered. 
  There was laughter among the students. 
  "Pleased to meet you, Roger," Nick said. "Now, you may go and turn my desk 
  back the way you found it." 
  Roger sputtered. "No way! Why should I?" 
  "I suppose I could ask the crime lab class to come and dust it for 
  fingerprints, Mr. Crumb, but then the dean might want to know about this. You 
  can ask someone to help you." 
  Roger shoved out of his desk, making his chair scrape on the tile floor. Nick 
  heard him saunter to the front. He ignored him for now, and continued learning 
  names. Two rows later, he found another one that was definitely afraid of 
  something. The boy's body temperature was positively radiating his discomfort. 
  Nick didn't sense a challenge from him, though. It was more like fear. 
  "I'm Tim Laursen, and I want to be a cop because my mom, my dad and my uncles 
  are all cops." Not a great reason, but it was not unusual, either. Nick gave 
  what he hoped was a friendly smile to the nervous boy. The boy seemed even 
  more uncomfortable. Nick heard murmurs among the students, but he couldn't 
  quite understand their words. 
  "Have we met before?" he asked. 
  "No," the boy said, his voice squeaking. "No, sir. Um. But you met my uncle, 
  Jess Bunati." 
  Nick nodded, beginning to understand. Maybe. Bunati had been fired, and was 
  awaiting trial for assaulting Nick. "Is this going to be a problem for you?" 
  Nick asked the student. 
  "No, sir," Tim said. 
  "Good." Nick heard Tim heave a sigh of relief. Had the student been afraid 
  that Nick would treat him unfairly because his uncle was a jerk? "Would you be 
  willing to put some notes on the chalk board for me tonight?" Nick asked 
  casually. 
  "Yes, sir." 
  Nick pulled the folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He would be hiring a 
  student to assist him, but for tonight Tim could fill in. Nick handed him the 
  sheet, then he continued down the aisles. 
  Perry would not let him walk straight, but forced him to move closer to the 
  desks on the right. Nick had learned to trust his carouche guide dog, and 
  after the prank with the desk, he assumed that there must be some obstacles in 
  his path. 
  Nick finished the last row, then returned to the front of the classroom. Roger 
  Crumb was still standing at his desk, unmoving. Nick felt like a drink. His 
  patience was wearing thin. He remembered Father Pierre's pleasant voice and 
  gentle instructions... "When you are angry with some one, try to imagine them 
  as they might have looked when they were two years old. It is hard to stay 
  angry with an adorable, cuddly little baby." 
  Nick couldn't imagine Roger at the age of two. He had no idea what the grown 
  Roger looked like. Only his voice. Something rebellious, something angry, and 
  maybe... something very intelligent. "Who are you going to ask to help you?" 
  Nick asked. 
  "You," Roger answered. 
  Nick let go of Perry's harness and lifted his end of the desk effortlessly. 
  Roger took his end, grunting under the weight. Working together they turned it 
  180 degrees. 
  "Good for you, Roger. You protected your accomplices, which can be a good 
  trait in a cop as well. It makes me suspicious of your friends, however, that 
  they would leave you here alone. Wonder what kind of partner they'll be on the 
  street? You may take your seat." 
  Roger shuffled back to his desk. Nick felt briefly elated. He wasn't sure if 
  he'd made an impression, but it was a start. "Two more things, before we get 
  started on tonight's lesson," he said. "Please keep the aisles between the 
  desks free from clutter. That isn't my rule, it is by order of the Fire 
  Marshall. And second, if you have a question, do not bother to raise your 
  hand. If you will stand, then I will call on you. Now, you were to have read 
  chapter four for today." 
  It was obvious the "raise your hand" part escaped their understanding, but 
  only for a little while. Nick wasn't able to hear a hand raise, at least, not 
  clearly. He couldn't be sure who was moving, and whether they had a question 
  or an itchy face. But when they stood up, they made enough noise that he was 
  able to identify them. 
  Nick had forgotten how much he loved teaching. It was a little different, not 
  really being able to use the chalkboard like he used to. Still, as the 
  students warmed to the discussion, they seemed to forget that he was blind and 
  "only a substitute". The bell for the end of the class period surprised them 
  all. 
  He heard them gather their books and coats, preparing to move on to the next 
  class. He had to raise his voice a little to be heard. "I have been granted 
  one workstudy position. If anyone is interested in applying for it, please see 
  me sometime tonight." 
  The students shuffled out the door. Nick still heard the girls' silly chatter 
  about his good looks. Maybe he'd have Urs come by tomorrow to stake her 
  "territory"? 
  Several students remained behind. "Who's first?" Nick asked. 
  Esteban stammered. "I would like to ask about your job." 
  Tim Laursen interrupted before Nick could answer. "I need to ask you something 
  too, man. I mean, I know what Uncle Jess is like, but I really can't believe 
  he'd beat up on a blind man." 
  Roger sniggered and made a disparaging comment. Nick silenced him with a 
  gesture. "Tim, I wasn't blind then. This is a recent injury. And for what it's 
  worth, I'm sorry about your uncle." 
  "How can you be sorry? They say he put you in the hospital! I hate him." 
  Nick was at a loss. He didn't know what this boy was thinking. Without the 
  visual clues of his facial expressions and body language, Nick felt even more 
  at a disadvantage. "Tim, do you know the whole story? Bunati was supposed to 
  hit me. It was a set up. We were trying to find a killer, who seemed to single 
  out anyone who'd offended me. I let him throw the first punch." 
  Tim muttered something about being late for class and left abruptly. Nick 
  sensed that there would be more to square away with him later. He heard the 
  other students drift out as well, until only Esteban remained. 
  "Hello," Nick said again. "DO you have a minute?" 
  "Yes. What do you need?" 
  "I'll need a student helper, for ten hours a week. You'll come in a few 
  minutes early to write my notes on the chalkboard, and I'll need you to read 
  written assignments aloud to me. That's about it." 
  "I can do this," he volunteered. 
  Nick extended his hand. When Esteban took it, Nick shook his warmly. "That's 
  great. You'll start tomorrow, then." 
  After Esteban left, Nick grabbed Perry's harness. He had to get to the 
  restroom quickly, where he promptly vomited. The first class had been 
  stressful and challenging... but it had also been incredibly exciting! He 
  would have to be a teacher again in his next life. 
  Nick had a little time before his second class, Criminal Investigations. He 
  wasn't sure what to do with himself. It might be beneficial to learn Braille, 
  since he loved to read, but he kept hoping that this condition would not last 
  much longer. There was so much that he had enjoyed doing that required 
  eyesight. He couldn't even paint anymore. 
  Jody Fraser had told him not to dwell on all the things he couldn't do, and 
  Father Pierre had said something similar when he told Nick to count his 
  blessings. Nick tried to think about them now. First, there was Urs. 
  She was a blessing, wasn't she? She was a vampire, and at one time, he had 
  felt that all vampires were damned, but Father Pierre seemed to feel 
  otherwise. The shy priest was afraid of vampires, but he had compassion for 
  them and hope for their own redemption. 
  At first, Urs had filled a need for him, with Janette no longer around and 
  Natalie untouchable. But, his need had quickly turned to desire, passion, and 
  even love. He knew that he loved her. 
  Tracy was another blessing. Nick couldn't say just why, but with her in the 
  family, he felt complete as though some integral part of him had been 
  reclaimed. Even her incessant cheerfulness was desired these days. She was 
  fun, and accepted him just as he was. 
  Vachon was becoming more of a friend, too. They hadn't started out very well 
  together, when Nick had nearly killed him for putting Tracy in danger. He had 
  demanded that Vachon accept responsibility for his little mortal partner. That 
  had backfired, as the continued involvement with the Spanish vampire had been 
  instrumental in bringing her across, but Nick no longer regretted her 
  decision. Vachon's friendship was very relaxed. Nick grew tired of the women 
  constantly fluttering over him like he was some sick puppy. Maybe he and 
  Vachon could hang out for a while? 
  Was LaCroix a blessing or a curse? Nick had thought he knew the answer before, 
  but now his feelings were confused. LaCroix was both, at times. Nick thought 
  back to that night a month ago when he had lost control, becoming enraged and 
  desperate. LaCroix's strong arms had wrapped around him, protecting him even 
  from himself. Nick was closer to the ancient master now than he had ever been. 

  Then there was Perry. Nick patted the carouche affectionately as he left off 
  his useless musings. It was time to get back to work. 
  After the second class, Nick was exhausted. He hadn't known teaching could 
  take so much out of him. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, reassuring himself 
  that his fangs were still concealed. He wasn't certain about his eyes though, 
  as he reached in the vest pocket for his sunglasses. The school dean came by 
  to welcome him, as did several other teachers. "Marnie called," the dean said. 
  "She asked that you stop by tomorrow before class, as she has some materials 
  to hand over." 
  Nick nodded. He had planned to see her anyway, but had not wanted to do so 
  before he'd met the students. He wanted to have an honest first impression, 
  and not be swayed by her opinions. 
  Not being able to read a clock was more of a problem than he would have 
  imagined. He'd known that classes ended at 10:30, but he had told Urs to come 
  at 11. Eventually, he might even push that back further, as he would use the 
  time to correct assignments and prepare for the next class. Tonight, though, 
  he felt restless and tired, and waited impatiently for her. 
  "Detective Knight?" a young woman's voice called softly. "Are you busy?" 
  He could have laughed. A blind man sitting at a barren desk twiddling his 
  thumbs impatiently? Did he look busy? He inhaled deeply, to draw her scent, 
  but she was not close enough. He thought he recognized her voice. She was one 
  of his students, but he couldn't place which one, yet. 
  "Come in. What can I do for you?" he said. 
  She timidly approached his desk, fidgeting with her books. Nick heard papers 
  rustle. It amused him that timid little girls wanted to be cops. Did she think 
  the uniform would make her brave? She plopped the books on his desk then and 
  pulled up a chair. So, maybe she wasn't that timid after all. 
  "I just wanted to talk, if that's okay," she said. There was a different sound 
  to the way she pronounced her words. Something softly southern. Although she 
  spoke like a Canadian now, at one time Nick was certain she had lived much 
  farther south. Like Georgia, maybe? 
  "Tammisue," he said, remembering her name. Tammisue Lamb. I'm sorry about your 
  parents," he said. When she had announced why she wanted to be a cop, she had 
  said that her parents had been murdered when she was younger, and she wanted 
  to protect children from violent crimes. 
  "Thank you," she answered softly. "That happened a long time ago. Me and Billy 
  Bob have been okay. Really. He's older, and he's always taken care of me." 
  Nick nodded. He heard the tension in her voice. Something was bothering her, 
  but he needed to gain her trust before she could speak. "Families are a 
  two-edged sword," he said. 
  He heard a puzzled grunt from her, and movement, as she must have propped her 
  chin up on her hands. He felt she was leaning closer to him. He hesitated, 
  wondering if she was getting too close for propriety's sake, but she didn't 
  smell interested in him. She still seemed mostly preoccupied and very nervous. 

  He cleared his throat. "I mean, that families can be both a blessing and a 
  curse. You can't live with them, and you can't live without them sometimes." 
  She nodded agreeably. "Yes, that's true. Has it ever been hard for you, being 
  a cop? Has your family supported you?" 
  "Only sometimes," Nick confessed. 
  "Have you ever had to choose sides? I mean, has your family ever been on the 
  wrong side of the law?" 
  Nick chuckled in spite of himself. Oh yes, quite a lot, he thought. His father 
  was a killer, many times over. His sister Janette was still wanted for murder, 
  and his "little brother" Don Constantine was a powerful crime lord. He 
  couldn't tell that to this young woman though. 
  "Not quite a year ago, my father was brought in for questioning," Nick 
  admitted. There had been a headless corpse discovered in a cooler in the 
  Raven. LaCroix had been forced to play by mortal rules then. He might have 
  just disposed of the body, but Divia had called the police. Nick had sat in on 
  the questioning. 
  "How did it affect you? I mean, was your father angry with you?" 
  He shrugged. "Perhaps. But I had nothing to do with it. Is someone you love in 
  trouble, Tammy?" 
  "No!" she said, a little too quickly. "I mean, I'm not sure. I hope not." 
  Something was making sense. Probably this Billy Bob brother of hers was 
  getting in over his head. If she knew about it and said nothing, she could be 
  expelled from the Academy. She might even be brought up on charges. But, Billy 
  Bob was all the family she had left. How could she go against him? 
  "Tammy, I can tell that you are worried about this family member. Would it 
  help if I met him or her, and just talked?" 
  She shifted uncomfortably. Her anxiety level skyrocketed. She smelled 
  delicious, Nick thought, wishing he hadn't emptied his flask already. 
  "Tammy, I'm blind. If your family member is doing something wrong, I won't see 
  a thing." 
  She laughed nervously. "You have a point. I'll talk to him. But I'd like that. 
  Very much. Thanks!" 
  Urs came in then. She smiled at the young girl, but she noticed Nick's 
  sunglasses and felt his hunger. It was time to get him home. Nick quickly 
  introduced them. 
  "The other girls are going to be so depressed," Tammy said. 
  Nick cocked his head. "About what?" 
  Tammy grinned at Urs. "Never mind!" she said, as she left. 
  Urs laughed. Men could be so clueless, and eyesight didn't seem to make a 
  difference, she thought. 
  "What was that about," Nick asked. 
  "Nothing important," she said. "Let's go home." 
  Nick got in the passenger side of the Caddy; Perry hopped in the back. Urs 
  drove conservatively. Nick felt the breeze lift the hair from his neck, felt 
  the moon's faint glow. Although he was hungry and tired, Nick didn't want to 
  go home just yet. "Take me down by the lake," he said. 
  Urs hesitated. She had been shocked that LaCroix had allowed her to be Nick's 
  chauffeur tonight, something the master had planned to do himself. She didn't 
  want to let him down. She knew he was waiting impatiently for his son's safe 
  return. Still, the thoughts Nick was having now were decidedly erotic... Urs 
  felt a warmth spread low inside, a smoldering fire that only Nick could ease. 
  She parked near the shore. The constant lap and flow of the water made a 
  soothing backdrop to soft sounds of the early spring night. Distant street 
  noises, a dog's lonely howl, a few early insects, and the gentle breeze all 
  combined in a symphony of sound that proclaimed spring was in the air. 
  Nick pulled her on to his lap, already fully aroused. She straddled him, 
  feeling his firmness through the thin layers of fabric that separated them. 
  She stroked his cheek as she gazed at him lovingly. "My Nicky. I've missed 
  you," she whispered. 
  Nick had forgotten how much fun it could be to make love in the Caddy. With 
  the top down, and the risk and danger of being discovered, beneath a devil 
  moon... there was something so primal about it. So sensual. It wasn't quite as 
  comfortable as in the bedroom, but the change was worth the effort. "Thanks, 
  love," he whispered. 
  Urs smiled. It was good to have him back, if only for a little while. He fell 
  asleep then, his head resting in her lap while she drove home. Nick was 
  impossible to awaken, too. She parked in the garage behind the Raven. She 
  would have to get Vachon's help to get him upstairs. And the night was still 
  young. After he was in bed, she'd hang out in the Raven until dawn. Nick 
  wasn't likely to awaken any time soon. 
  The tidy little apartment had been transformed. Cardboard cartons created new 
  hazards for her blind lover, in ever-changing teetering towers he would never 
  be able to circumnavigate. Workmen had torn open a wall, revealing the dark, 
  dusty empty space behind. More workmen trudged through the apartment, cursing 
  amicably, as they began the remodeling. LaCroix hired vampire workers whenever 
  possible, which was even more important now when Nicholas's control was 
  questionable. Urs shook her head at the mess, and went to find the ancient 
  master. This would never do. 
  LaCroix was hiding in his soundbooth. He indicated the boxes of fan mail by 
  the door, and Urs nodded in understanding. She waited until he finished his 
  monologue and cued the next CD. Then she waited until he made a gesture that 
  she could speak. 
  "Nick cannot stay upstairs while the work proceeds," she said simply. 
  She saw anger come to the ancient's face, quickly followed by concern and 
  regret. He was in a difficult situation. The remodeling was necessary for his 
  mortal lover, keeping his lover contented was necessary for his son's 
  emotional well-being, but keeping Nick's environment stable was important for 
  his health and safety. 
  "What do you suggest," LaCroix snapped angrily. He wasn't really upset with 
  Urs, as she had always seemed wise beyond her tender years. It was a problem 
  he had already given some thought to. 
  "It might be best if he moved into his loft, temporarily," Urs said. 
  "Out of the question," LaCroix interrupted. "He is too weak to be away from 
  me, and his loft simply is not large enough for everyone." 
  Urs nodded patiently. "It could work, if you were willing to pick him up from 
  work, and bring him there. If you wouldn't mind, that is. I'm happy to bring 
  him in, but he was so tired tonight, and he fell asleep in the car. I had to 
  get Vachon to help me bring him inside. And if he wakes before dawn, no doubt 
  he'll want someone to read to him again. I find those books incredibly 
  boring." 
  LaCroix nodded slowly, considering her suggestion. It would be hard, having 
  Nicholas move out again. He'd grown accustomed to having his son around. He 
  was no fool. Once Nicholas was again ensconced in the loft, it would take a 
  major event to bring him back to the apartment above the Raven. But, she was 
  willing to share the chauffeur duties with him? "I will give the matter 
  consideration," he said at length. 
  Urs smiled wistfully. She knew what it meant for him to lose any amount of 
  control over Nicholas. Privately, she agreed. It was so nice living together 
  with him and Tracy and Vachon, and even Natalie. It was like having a family, 
  something she'd always wanted. "How long will the remodeling take?" she asked. 

  LaCroix shrugged. Too long, was his opinion. "A month at most," he answered. 
  Urs lifted the first box of fan letters then. LaCroix had given her a desk in 
  a small room next door, with stamps and paper for fulfilling her duty. She 
  enjoyed the mindless task. Reading what the mortals of the city wrote to the 
  ancient vampire was rather amusing. She answered the letters, including an 
  autographed picture of him. It was a lot more interesting than reading out of 
  Nick's texts. 
  LaCroix loaded the CDs on to the changer and considered checking on the 
  workers himself, when he felt his son's distress. He flew up the stairs and 
  entered the maelstrom of his once comfortable apartment. 
  Nicholas lay curled on his side on the floor, toppled boxes suggesting he had 
  fallen, and the red stain on the carpet displayed how much it had upset him. 
  Four workers stood unmoving, their hands at their sides, expressions of 
  wariness on their faces. One worker lay on his back, Perry's jaws clamped 
  around his throat, flailing his arms uselessly, as he was unable to move. A 
  deathly quiet settled, only LaCroix's angry words split the air. 
  "What is going on!" he demanded. 
  Nick forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his stomach even as a shudder shook 
  his thin frame. "It's my fault, LaCroix," he admitted. "I woke up, and I 
  didn't wait for Perry's help. I tripped." 
  LaCroix waited impatiently. That much had been obvious. He turned to one of 
  the vampire workers and nailed him with a glare. 
  "We didn't know he was blind, sir," the vampire stammered. "Joe poked fun at 
  him for what looked like just plain clumsiness. And the carouche attached 
  him." 
  The vampire on the floor was livid, as his struggling caused the carouche's 
  sharp teeth to slice through his tender throat. "Call off your beast, 
  LaCroix!" 
  "Good dog," LaCroix said. He loomed over the fallen vampire. "You are finished 
  here. You will take your tools and leave the city tonight." 
  Joe looked like he might argue, but Perry tightened his jaws. The vampire went 
  limp rather than suffer more serious injury. "I'll go," he grunted. 
  Perry let go of him then. Joe rolled to his feet, rubbing at the painful, 
  bleeding cuts on his throat. He glared at the ancient vampire with more 
  bravado than sense. 
  "And you will apologize to my son before you leave," LaCroix commanded. 
  Nick and Joe both started to object, but LaCroix silenced them. Joe went to 
  Nick and gave him a hand up. He gruffly apologized. Nick accepted it, 
  forgiving the near stranger more easily than he ever forgave his master, which 
  only further annoyed the ancient. 
  Joe stuffed a few tools in his belt and left through the skylight. From the 
  roof he glanced back at the other workers as LaCroix ordered them to get back 
  to work. The enforcers should know about this, he thought vengefully. A blind, 
  weak vampire, depending on a carouche for survival. No matter how influential 
  LaCroix was, some rules just were not meant to be broken! 
  "Return to work," LaCroix commanded. Hesitantly, they complied. Vampires were 
  generally stronger than carouche, but canine carouche were feared. Dogs could 
  be violent, and tear heads from shoulders in an eyeblink, all that was 
  necessary to end an immortal existence. They had greater respect for the 
  injured vampire when he seemed to exert control over the carouche. Nick called 
  Perry to him, patting the dog affectionately. LaCroix smiled evilly. The 
  carouche was proving quite valuable, indeed. 
  LaCroix approached his son, curious at Nicholas's fearful manner. 
  "I'm sorry, master," the younger one began. "I don't know if I can clean it up 
  this time. Everything seems so different." 
  Urs had been right, he realized. He had suspected the remodeling would pose a 
  problem. "Do not concern yourself, Nicholas. I am sorry for the inconvenience. 
  Shall we go to your loft for now? The noise and confusion here is most 
  annoying." 
  Nick nodded agreeably. He sort of missed his place, although he knew Jody was 
  still staying there. It would be nice to "see" it again. With LaCroix on one 
  side and Perry on the other, they flew through the skylight out over the city. 

  The loft was empty. As sunrise was still several hours away, Jody would be out 
  finding amusement somewhere, but it had an empty feel to it. Nick reached out 
  with senses that were made stronger through his disability. Jody had not been 
  here in several days. He turned to his master curiously. "Is she all right?" 
  LaCroix looked at his son with surprise. He had seen the minute layer of dust 
  on the counters and table, evidence that the young carouche had not been here 
  for a while, but wondered how his son had known. "The loft looks fine, my son. 
  There is no evidence of foul play. She is young and alone. Perhaps she is 
  seeking entertainment?" 
  Nicholas still seemed overly concerned. LaCroix noted Perry's relaxed manner 
  and mentioned it to his son. "Surely, her master would be the first to know if 
  she were in danger." 
  Nicholas smiled then. "You're right." 
  LaCroix settled on the couch and watched his son explore the loft. With 
  Perry's help, Nick reached out with his other senses, reassuring himself of 
  the exact position of everything. Then he felt for the remote on the mantle, 
  and turned the gas fire on low. He stretched out on the area rug in front of 
  the fire and patted the space beside him. Perry filled the space, laying his 
  head across Nick's thigh and sighing heavily. 
  "From where shall I read?" LaCroix inquired. Nick told him where Urs had left 
  off. LaCroix quickly found the page. Taking a few moments, he glanced over the 
  pages, then he began. Between the paragraphs, he was able to glance at his son 
  as he reclined at his feet, and marveled at the feeling of peace. It was with 
  a sense of loss that he finished the chapter. "Shall I read another?" he asked 
  quietly. 
  Nick shook his head. 
  LaCroix closed the text and laid it on the end table. For long moments neither 
  moved. Then he saw Nick's chest rise as he drew in a deep breath. 
  "This is peaceful," the younger vampire said wistfully. 
  LaCroix had been thinking much the same. It was sad, really, that an evening 
  between them was reduced to such inane small talk. LaCroix glanced around the 
  loft. Did his son miss his privacy and his home as much as his independence? 
  "Your loft does have a certain gothic charm about it," he said, his tone more 
  acerbic than he intended. 
  "No, it's not the loft," Nick said, surprising him. "I mean, it's like "guys 
  night out" or something. It's peaceful without the women around." 
  The ancient vampire swallowed back his surprise. His son was enjoying his 
  company, and willing to admit it? What night was this - he would record it for 
  posterity's sake! "Are the women causing problems, my child?" he asked. 
  Nick groaned. "Just Nat and Urs. Tracy's fine. I mean, I know they have this 
  nesting instinct, but I sure wish they'd find another little chick to 
  nurture." 
  LaCroix laughed. "I had noticed them hovering over you at times." 
  "Hovering? Smothering, more like it," Nick grunted. 
  They shared a laugh. Then the peaceful quiet enveloped them again. LaCroix 
  smiled indulgently as he admired his beautiful child. But the easy smile 
  faded, and the too-familiar despondent expression clouded his handsome 
  features. LaCroix was about to suggest it was time to feed, when the boy sat 
  up suddenly. Nick reached out for him, finding a leg. Nick came nearer, laying 
  his golden head in LaCroix's lap. 
  "Forgive me, Master," he whispered. 
  LaCroix rested his hand on the tangled waves, letting his long fingers slip 
  between the strands. "What for this time, my child?" 
  "For not appreciating your gift. I hate being like this. I never want to be 
  sick again. Ever." 
  LaCroix blinked back tears at his son's confession. How he had waited to hear 
  similar words! He knew that the boy was not completely returning to him. 
  Nicholas would not kill again. LaCroix feared that would never change. But it 
  was enough to have him back as a vampire, to end the fruitless quest to 
  achieve mortality, which could only bring him sickness and death! 
  He felt Nick's pain then, as his stomach burned and twisted. LaCroix pulled 
  his son onto the couch with him. Cradling Nick's head in the crook of an arm, 
  LaCroix offered him his throat. Nick sank his fangs, drinking slowly. LaCroix 
  placed his free hand on Nick's stomach and gently massaged, as he'd seen his 
  son do many times. The cool hand and soothing motion seemed to help. He felt 
  the pain lesson through their link. He yearned to return the kiss, but he 
  seldom did anymore. The small neck wounds took hours to completely heal. 
  Slowly Nick withdrew from him, relaxing in his arms. LaCroix sensed that in a 
  few more moments the younger vampire would be asleep... until the lift 
  engaged. The rattling chains and squeak of old metal startled them both. Nick 
  clutched LaCroix's shirtfront, until the intruder arrived. Then he relaxed. 
  "Hi, Trace." 
  Tracy went straight to the refrigerator and poured herself a large glassful. 
  "Hi, guys," she said between chugs. She brought over two more glasses and 
  offered to pour for them as well. LaCroix nodded silently. 
  Nick slid from the couch and settled on the floor in front of his master, 
  feeling comforted by the ancient's presence. "So, rough night?" he coaxed her. 

  "Got that right. That man has no business being a cop. He sucks. I don't think 
  he likes people very much." 
  "Such a waste," LaCroix responded. 
  "How was your night?" she asked her brother. 
  Nick told her everything then. He spoke enthusiastically as he described the 
  students he'd met and their harmless pranks. "I'm kind of concerned about two 
  of them, though. Esteban seems smart and articulate. I wonder why he's not 
  going to a four-year college. And there's a girl, who thinks her older brother 
  is getting involved in something illegal. She doesn't want to be expelled from 
  the Academy, but doesn't want to see him get caught, either." 
  Tracy nodded with understanding. LaCroix watched them interact, as he remained 
  silent and thoughtful. His children seemed so comfortable together, as though 
  they had been siblings for centuries instead of merely months. Why hadn't 
  Nicholas told him these stories? 
  Perhaps because LaCroix had never shown any interest in his work? LaCroix 
  realized that by not encouraging Nicholas in his career, he had alienated a 
  part of him. He would not make that mistake again. Nicholas seemed so animated 
  as he talked about his students. It was good to see him like this. 
  LaCroix patted Nicholas on the shoulder. "It is late. I must return to the 
  Raven. And I will speak to the women for you, if you like." 
  "No, that's okay," Nick said. "I'll tell them myself. Good night, LaCroix." He 
  felt a strong longing as LaCroix flew away. It was always like that, 
  especially after tasting his blood. It was the physical bond that tied vampire 
  children to their masters, and it was more difficult to break than any 
  emotional tie could be. Tracy felt the longing, too. Within moments, they 
  comforted one another through the blood kiss, before Nick found his way to 
  bed. "Good night, Baby," he said, yawning widely. 
  "Night, bro," she answered. He was already sound asleep. She grinned. Now was 
  time for a little payback! 
  Nick tossed his towel on the bed and walked hesitantly towards his closet. It 
  had taken only a few moments of bumping in to things before he recalled that 
  he was not in LaCroix's apartment above the Raven. He counted the steps 
  between the bed and closet and bathroom, committing them to memory. 
  The closet seemed mostly empty. He groped around, but only one shirt was 
  within reach. He'd lost track. Were most of his clothes at LaCroix's, or in 
  the wash? He'd ask Urs later. One shirt was all he needed. 
  A foul smell emanated from his drawers as he reached for a pair of jeans. It 
  was sickly sweet and strong, like an entire bottle of cologne had been dumped. 
  "Urs!" he called, panic sucking his strength like a riptide. 
  Urs sprang from the shower, dripping wet and naked. "What, Nick? What's 
  wrong?" 
  He stood, dressed only in a pink shirt and his boxers, holding a pair of black 
  jeans at arm's length. "What is this smell?" he asked disdainfully. 
  She wrapped the towel around and tucked it in securely as she smiled at him. 
  Just last night he'd scolded her about babying him, and now he was so helpless 
  and clueless and smelled of Johnson's "Baby Magic". Unquestionably, Tracy was 
  up to her pranks again. 
  Urs took the jeans and shook them out. Tucked in the pockets were cotton 
  handkerchiefs that smelled strongly of the perfumed baby lotion. She removed 
  the handkerchiefs, and searched every other pair of pants in the drawer. They 
  would all be fragrant tonight. 
  "Sorry, Nick. I don't think you have time for me to wash and dry a load before 
  work. It won't smell quite so strong to your mortal students." 
  Nick sat on the corner of the bed and pulled on the smelly jeans. "Tracy is in 
  it deep," he muttered under his breath. 
  Urs smiled as she watched him tuck the pink shirttails in and cinch his belt. 
  There was really nothing wrong with the shirt. It fit well, and looked very 
  nice, but she knew without a doubt that it was also part of Tracy's prank. 
  Nick never wore pink. Should she tell him? 
  "Were you in on this, too?" he grumbled. 
  "No, Nick," she said. "I'm afraid I'm not that original." 
  He glowered at her. "You think this is all very funny, don't you!" 
  She laughed then. "Sorry, Nick! Yes, I do!" 
  He pushed past her and reached for the railing on the stairs. Perry jumped to 
  his side protectively. Urs clamped a hand over her mouth. No, she wouldn't 
  mention the shirt. He looked adorable, dressed in baby pink and smelling so 
  sweet! 
  Nick pulled out of his churlish attitude while they shared a bottle for 
  breakfast. Urs wondered what had cheered him up so quickly. "I'll get even 
  with her," he said, his face a light with mischief. 
  "I'm sure you will," she answered. 
  Urs drove them to the hospital first. Nick reluctantly left Perry in the 
  Caddy. Although guide dogs were permitted almost everywhere, hospitals still 
  frowned on them. He took Urs's arm and allowed her to lead him. He was 
  surprised at the fear that rose unbidden. The hospital was a confused miasma 
  of smells and sounds. He turned so many times that he was completely turned 
  around. 
  Finally, they were in the maternity wing. Nick knew by double-heartbeats of 
  the patients, the syncopated rhythms of mother and child. Urs knocked on the 
  door to Marnie Kelischek's room. Hearing the soft-spoken permission to enter, 
  Urs pushed open the door. 
  "Marnie Kelischek?" 
  The pregnant woman eyed her and her companion cautiously. "Yes?" 
  "I'm Detective Nick Knight," Nick said, extending a hand. Urs brought him 
  closer, until Marnie could accept his handshake. She pulled up a chair then, 
  and guided Nick to sit in it. Mission accomplished, she stepped back and 
  waited. 
  "You're my sub?" Marnie asked. 
  Nick nodded. "Yes. I've done some teaching before. Captain Reese thought it 
  would keep me out of trouble for a while. I found your lesson plans, but not 
  the teacher's manuals." 
  She pointed to some books on the dresser. Urs picked them up. "Sorry. I had 
  them at home. This came upon me so suddenly; I really wasn't expecting it. So 
  how did it go? You've met the kids, haven't you?" 
  Nick talked with her briefly. He didn't want to mention Tammisue Lamb's 
  problem, because he was fairly certain that the girl had not spoken of it to 
  anyone else. And he didn't feel that Roger Crumb's pranks were worth 
  mentioning. He was concerned about Esteban, though. It was always difficult, 
  discussing students with other teachers. There was a fine line between talk 
  and gossip. At some point, a careless comment could actually harm a student, 
  prejudicing a teacher against him. 
  "I've been granted a workstudy student," he said. "Esteban volunteered." 
  Marnie laughed lightly. "I'm not surprised. He's a good worker. Smart kid, 
  too." 
  "I suspected as much," Nick replied. 
  "Too bad he couldn't go to the University," Marnie said. "He was accepted. He 
  had top marks on his test scores." 
  "Why did he change his mind," Nick asked. "If you don't mind my asking." 
  "No. It's no secret. He got married last year, his senior year in high school. 
  They have a baby. I guess he felt he couldn't afford to go to a four year 
  school, now that he has a family." 
  "Well, I should be going," Nick said abruptly. "You take care of your little 
  one." 
  "Good luck, Detective Knight. And, if you have any questions, don't hesitate 
  to call. I'd welcome it, actually. Bed rest gets boring, after the first ten 
  minutes." 
  Nick grinned. "Good-bye." 
  Urs offered him her arm, hugging the large manuals to her chest. Nick followed 
  silently, lost in his thoughts. No doubt he was brooding over this Esteban, 
  and he was trying to think up a way to help the young man. Her knight would 
  succeed, she was certain. "Will you tell me when you know what you're going to 
  do?" she asked. 
  "Hmm?" Nick said vaguely. 
  "Just say "yes", Nick." 
  "Yes, Nick," Nick replied, giving her a charming smile. 
  Traffic was heavy, and Urs made a wrong turn. She didn't want to push the 
  speed limits, but Nick was barely going to make it there. "I'm sorry," she 
  apologized. 
  "Don't worry," Nick said lightly. He swallowed from the flask in his coat 
  pocket. The sweet smell was making him mildly nauseated. "I'll probably have 
  to stay late tonight. You don't need to come until around 11:30." 
  "Um - Nick? LaCroix wants to pick you up. I'll see you at home." 
  Nick shrugged. "Later then." 
  He took a firm grip on Perry's harness. There were thirty some steps to the 
  front of the Academy, then six stairs. The wide doors opened out, then fifty 
  steps to his door. There was a strange odor in the halls, though. Nick rubbed 
  at his stomach. Maybe it was just the scent of his jeans, but no... there was 
  another odor that did not belong. 
  At his door, Nick felt dizzy. He leaned against it and took a slow even 
  breath. The conversations in his room stopped as he felt his students look at 
  him. He tried to straighten. He took out a dark handkerchief and wiped at his 
  forehead, then stuffed it back in a pocket. 
  "Good evening, class," he said, forcing a casual tone to his voice. 
  "Good evening." 
  "Hi, Detective Knight." 
  "Teacher, are you okay?" 
  Perry whimpered. Nick patted the carouche's head, but he was still unnerved. 
  Something was very wrong, and now the carouche felt it too. Nick forced 
  himself to take a deep breath to discern the smell. Gas! 
  "Esteban! Pull the fire alarm, now. Class, this is not a drill. Get out of the 
  building immediately!" 
  He heard their desks and chairs scrape on the floor, heard their pulses 
  quicken, but none of them approached the door. 
  "Out," he said. "Out now. All of you. Do you know where to go for a drill?" 
  "Yes, sir," several students answered. "We go out the front door, and meet 
  across the street." 
  Nick patted their shoulders as they went past. He winced when the dreadful 
  buzzing of the fire alarm went off. Esteban waited next to him. 
  "That's everyone in our classroom, Detective Knight," he said. "If you really 
  think there's a fire, you should come now, too." 
  Nick listened. He could hear other doors opening, hear the footsteps and 
  alarmed exclamations from the other classrooms. The smell was almost 
  overpowering now. If he didn't get out soon, he'd lose consciousness. He 
  allowed Esteban to take his arm. Between him and Perry, Nick was reassured 
  that he would make it out. 
  Once outside, Nick gulped in fresh cold air. His hands felt clammy. He wiped 
  them on his jeans. Esteban pulled him further, until they joined the students 
  across the street. Already in the distance he could hear the sirens of the 
  fire trucks. Other teachers were talking loudly over the noise of the 
  students, wanting to know who pulled the alarm. As yet, no smoke or fire had 
  been detected. 
  "I ordered it pulled," Nick said, waving a hand to gain their attention. 
  "There isn't a fire yet. But there is a gas leak. That building could blow any 
  minute." 
  "Gas leak! We didn't smell anything," someone said. 
  "I know. You were already inside. It crept up unawares. I was late tonight, 
  and the smell was overpowering." 
  "I do have a headache," some one else commented. 
  "Is everyone outside safely? Teachers, call your roll!" 
  Nick listened for his students. "Esteban?" he called. "Can you see them? Is 
  anyone missing?" 
  Roger Crumb pushed his way through the crowd. "Yeah, Teacher. Lamb is missing. 
  But, she wasn't there earlier either. Everyone else is here. And thanks for 
  the diversion. This is more fun than psychology any night." 
  By then the firetrucks had arrived. Nick could only imagine what was going on. 
  He was told to stay with his class. After nearly an hour, several fireman 
  approached him. 
  "You probably saved a lot of lives tonight, mister," one fireman said. "The 
  place is fairly polluted with gas. Looks like someone tampered with a valve in 
  the basement. If much more gas had escaped, the furnace pilot lights could 
  have ignited it. I don't know how you could have smelled it, though." 
  "Sensitive nose," Nick said lightly. "Can we return to class now?" 
  "No. We're closing the building for the night. To defumigate the place." 
  Nick felt strangely depressed. He had looked forward to teaching, and now he 
  would have to wait another day. Besides, LaCroix wouldn't be by for hours. He 
  heard his students bid him good night, and felt their confused departure. Some 
  were excited about the time off, and spoke about going out for pizza together. 
  Nick felt for his cell phone; maybe he should call LaCroix? 
  "Hey, Detective Knight. Want to join us," several students asked. 
  Pizza was noxious, Nick thought with a shudder. But the opportunity to visit 
  with the students and get to know them better was enticing. He nodded. 
  "Thanks." 
  The group of students grew then, as others who had been reluctant suddenly 
  changed their minds. Nick felt them all around him. It seemed like the entire 
  class was there. 
  Inside the pizzeria several tables were quickly pushed together. Nick took out 
  his wallet and felt the paper money. Urs had folded them differently according 
  to their denominations. Nick pulled out two tens and tossed them onto the 
  table. Students never seemed to have money, he recalled. 
  At first, the talk was all about the almost fire-explosion at their school, 
  and how Nick had saved them. Then it turned to curiosity, at who might have 
  vandalized the school. Eventually the conversations returned to the mundane, 
  about who was dating whom, and for how long, and homework and such. The pizza 
  came. Nick shuddered as the garlic smelling goo was passed in front of him. 
  Nick declined a piece, but accepted a can of soda. He was able to pretend to 
  drink from it, and no one was any wiser that the level never went down. 
  Nick heard their conversations cease as several others approached their 
  tables. Some of their heartrates accelerated. 
  "Tim did it," one of the new voices stated. 
  "I did not!" Tim jumped to his feet, his chair toppled over. 
  Nick stood up slowly. "Of course you didn't, Tim. Sit down." 
  Tim was frightened. Nick felt the table, moving closer to stand beside his 
  student. "Talk to me. What is this all about," he asked the new students. 
  "He's bad. His whole family's bad. I don't know why they don't just expel him 
  now," one of the boys snarled. 
  Nick wished he could hypnotize. He'd tell these ignorant bullies to take a 
  drive around the lake. Lake Ontario. That should keep them busy for a while. 
  "Tim is not responsible for the actions of his relatives," Nick replied. "Now 
  you may go away quietly, or we will call the police." 
  The students grumbled, but Perry added his own menacing growl. The manager of 
  the pizzeria came over then and told them to behave themselves or go home. The 
  students left without a fight. Nick patted Tim's shoulder. 
  Tim shuddered beneath his touch. Nick realized sadly that this wasn't the 
  first time someone had bullied him. "You can press charges if you are being 
  harassed." 
  "Against who? Half the city?" Tim snapped. 
  "It will blow over." 
  "Thanks, Teach. But you don't know. And what will I do next time, when your 
  dog isn't there to protect us? You'd better stay away from me. It isn't safe." 

  Tim pushed to his feet and left. Nick listened to the fading sounds of his 
  footsteps until he heard the front door bang shut. 
  "Did you kids know about this?" Nick asked his students. 
  He heard them shrugging uncomfortably in their chairs, heard a few muffled 
  denials that lacked any real effort. 
  "We are not responsible for any actions but our own," Nick admonished them. 
  "Judge Tim on his own behavior, not that of his family." 
  The pizza party had fizzled out. Nick pulled out his cell phone. It was time 
  to go. Only, when he punched in the preprogrammed number, he heard the warning 
  beep of a low battery. Nick cursed softly, pocketing the worthless piece of 
  technology. Maybe the owner would let him borrow a phone. 
  "Need a lift somewhere?" Roger asked. 
  "Sure. That'd be great." 
  Roger lead him and Perry back to the school and to his car parked in the 
  student parking lot. He opened the door for Nick. "It's kind of small," he 
  said. "Your dog'll have to ride in back." 
  Nick caught the scent of stale tobacco. Someone used to smoke, but not any 
  more. The seat cushion felt dirty. He resisted the urge to shudder, wondering 
  just how awful the vehicle looked. 
  "Hey, it ain't great, but it runs, and it was cheap," Roger said. 
  Nick forced a smile. "It's fine. I live at 101 Gateway. Do you know where it 
  is?" 
  "Sure," he answered. "Not the kind of neighborhood I'd have pegged you for 
  though. I mean, it's not really residential." 
  Nick leaned back in the seat as the oversized engine roared into action. He 
  heard familiar street sounds, the ambulances, the sirens, the traffic sounds, 
  and was struck with nostalgia. Not that long ago he'd been part of the night, 
  working with his perky junior partner to serve and to protect. Thinking of 
  Tracy brought back the urge to get even. "Say, can we swing by the 96th 
  precinct?" 
  "Yeah, why?" Roger asked. 
  "I've a debt to pay," Nick said vaguely. 
  Roger made a few turns, then pulled up outside of the impressive stone 
  building. "Now what?" 
  "Do you see a light blue '94 Ford Taurus anywhere, license number 123 0SA?" 
  "Yes...." 
  Nick grinned. "Give me a hand." He got out of the car and waited. Roger came 
  over awkwardly. Nick took his arm and told him to bring him to the car. Nick 
  forced open the door, then crossed the wires to start the engine. 
  "You're not going to steal a car right in front of the precinct, are you!" 
  Roger exclaimed. 
  Nick laughed. "We're not going to steal it." He got in and slid over. "You're 
  going to drive it around the block for me. Come on, quickly, before some one 
  sees you." 
  Roger got behind the wheel nervously. "What kind of teacher are you?" 
  "Let's go! Quickly!" 
  Roger shook his head, as he backed out of the parking space. He drove half way 
  around the block, then parked behind a church. Nick got out then and waited 
  for Roger to offer him his arm. Slowly, they walked back to Roger's car and to 
  one very nervous carouche. Nick got back in and quieted Perry, grinning 
  broadly. 
  "Mind explaining that to me?" Roger asked. 
  "The car belongs to my partner, Tracy Vetter," Nick said. "She poured 
  something all over my clothes to make them stink. I'm just getting even." 
  Roger laughed. "I was sort of wondering about your cologne. Did she do the 
  shirt, too?" 
  Nick's laughter caught in his throat. "My shirt? What's wrong with my shirt? 
  What did she do?" 
  "Nothing, maybe. It's just, it's pink. You don't seem like the pink sort of 
  guy." 
  Nick growled angrily, then he laughed. "We should have parked it two blocks 
  away. No, I don't wear pink. That little...." 
  Roger laughed with him. "Girls." 
  Brendan watched from the shadows as the last firetruck pulled away. It had 
  failed! Some how, the gas leak had been detected, and all of her students were 
  safe. She didn't even know that they had been in danger! Brendan would have to 
  try again, but next time, he'd have to let her know that she had the power to 
  save them. But what would he do? How could he hurt her? 
  She loved teaching. He knew that. He knew she loved her students and cared for 
  them deeply. Maybe he'd have to kidnap one of them. But kids were annoying. 
  Maybe he'd just get rid of that substitute teacher first. The blind one. That 
  shouldn't be too hard. Let her students suffer without a teacher for a while. 
  She'd feel guilty then. Maybe guilty enough to return to work? Maybe she'd 
  even lose the baby. At first, he had been willing to take her child and raise 
  it like his own, but not now. Not after the way she'd had him thrown out of 
  the hospital, barred from her door, and after all he'd done for her! The 
  ungrateful, self-centered bit*h. Damn her! 
  That substitute would have to go.... 
  Perry awoke when he heard an intruder. He raised his head and stared into the 
  impish face of LaCroix's youngest. She held a finger to her lips, pleading 
  with him to be quiet. He sensed her amusement. She was such a child. But, she 
  alone made his young charge smile. Only this infant vampire could make Nick 
  laugh and play, discovering moments of joy to offset his darker thoughts. 
  Perry heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. He didn't want to be any part of 
  their silly games. His nostrils quivered as she took the lid off of a 
  container and sprayed soft clumps of white shaving cream into Nick's hands. 
  She sprayed more cream on his toes and in his hair. Then, when the can coughed 
  up the last of its contents, she flew out of the skylight and returned home. 
  Perry wondered idly how the imp had escaped from LaCroix's fortress. He knew 
  she was still not allowed to be anywhere alone and unattended. Then, as he 
  watched, Tracy's nearly invisible vampire bodyguard flew away as well. Poor 
  child didn't even know she was being watched. Perry yawned. It was harder to 
  return to sleep with the strong smelling creme. 
  Nick laughed when he awoke. Urs grumbled at the dried shaving crème in her 
  hair, but Nick merely rubbed more of the goo on her, tickling her and laughing 
  heartily. Perry watched, grateful that the imp's pranks had had the desired 
  effect. When Nick chased Urs into the bathroom for a shower, Perry pulled the 
  dirty sheets from the bed and returned to the bare mattress for a nap. 
  For over a week the pranks continued, back and forth, harmless little jests, 
  and Perry saw his charge smiling more. Nick walked taller, with a lightness to 
  his step that made Perry proud to stand beside him. The teaching went well, 
  too. Nick's students were eager to learn and interested in everything their 
  teacher had to tell them. The student Esteban remained after classes, reading 
  their written assignments aloud for Nick to grade them. The teaching was 
  tiring work. Nick always slept on the ride home. LaCroix insisted he rest a 
  while longer, before the ancient would read his texts to him. Perry looked 
  forward to the quiet nights by the fire, curled up next to his charge, 
  listening to the silken voice of the ancient master. 
  On the night that Natalie went to have her cast removed, LaCroix decided to go 
  with her. He sent Vachon in his place. Nick was surprised, but he felt oddly 
  pleased to be with the Spaniard. Tracy would still be at work, and Urs was 
  still too overprotective. Vachon was so casual; Nick felt that he could really 
  relax. 
  "So what do you want to do," Vachon asked, when he'd brought Nick and Perry to 
  the loft. 
  Nick shrugged. "You don't have to baby-sit me, Vachon. What were you going to 
  do, before LaCroix interrupted your plans?" 
  Vachon sounded hesitant. "Jeez, Knight. I don't know. Maybe I thought I'd take 
  the bike out for a spin. Winter's really starting to bite, you know?" 
  Nick smiled wistfully, recalling how he and Vachon had raced their bikes 
  together as they drove towards Nick's cabin last fall. Nick had got a speeding 
  ticket that night. "I'd sure like to go with you," he said longingly. 
  "Hey. Works for me," Vachon agreed. 
  Nick knelt down, removing the special harness from Perry. "You stay here, boy. 
  There's no place for you on the bike. But I'll be fine. Don't you worry." 
  Perry narrowed his eyes at Vachon, laying his ears back and growling softly. 
  Vachon took a step backwards. "I'll be careful, I promise!" 
  Nick took Vachon's arm and followed him down to where the bike was parked in 
  front of his loft. Vachon swung a leg over the bike and knocked the kickstand 
  out of the way. Nick got on behind him, hesitating for a moment whether to 
  grab on to Vachon or the seat strap. Vachon took his hand and tugged it around 
  his waist securely. 
  "You'll hold here, and very tightly," Vachon commanded gruffly. "It's my blood 
  your master will demand if you're hurt." 
  Nick held him then, quickly getting over his awkwardness as the bike roared to 
  life and rumbled between his legs and the wind whipped at his face. Vachon 
  drove cautiously for the first few miles, but the irresponsible Spaniard 
  couldn't behave much longer than that. He picked up speed, cut corners, wove 
  in and out of traffic, and even made the bike leap and jump, becoming airborne 
  for brief thrilling moments. 
  Vachon felt Nick's grip tighten around his waist, but the older vampire seemed 
  to be enjoying himself. Vachon felt a little sorry for him, what with the 
  women clucking over him and LaCroix, of course. He had been hoping for just 
  such an opportunity to help Nick break loose a little. 
  "Poor bastard," Vachon said aloud, as they slowed at an intersection. 
  "Why's that?" Nick asked. He couldn't sense Vachon much, as they had never 
  shared blood and were not even remotely related. He only got the briefest of 
  sensations from the young Spaniard, and then only because he and Vachon's 
  fledgling were lovers. 
  "Someone over there's getting the crap beat out of him," Vachon commented. 
  "Looks like six against one." 
  "Take me there," Nick ordered. 
  Vachon complained. "Not tonight, Nick. Do you really have to do this?" 
  "Now." 
  Vachon sighed heavily as he brought the bike into the parking lot. 
  "What's going on here," Nick demanded in his authoritative, police detective 
  voice. Vachon grinned, suspecting that just about anyone with a shred of sense 
  would shudder at the sound of that. 
  "Well if it isn't your blind teacher, Laursen. Only, his dog isn't here to 
  protect you." 
  "Tim?" Nick asked hesitantly. "It that you?" 
  "I told you to stay away from me," the boy cried. His voice was tinged with 
  fear and pain. 
  Nick got off the bike and took a few steps closer to the sound of Tim's voice. 
  He was afraid to walk without Perry, but he squared his shoulders and buried 
  the fear behind the anger he felt at any injustice. 
  "Hey, teach. Listen to the punk, and just back off, like you never saw a 
  thing!" The lead bully laughed at his sick joke. 
  "I see more than you think," Nick answered. "I know that there are six of you 
  against one. I hear that you are the same boys from the pizzeria. I'm sure the 
  manager, as well as all of the students in my class, will be able to identify 
  you. This is not the behavior of police cadets. You will all be expelled." 
  "Sonofabit*h," the lead shouted. He came at Nick swiftly, swinging a fist. 
  Vachon hadn't been expecting it. He wasn't able to get there in time to 
  protect him. Nick's hand flew up, catching the fist in mid-swing before it 
  could connect with his face. He tightened his grip on the fist, until the 
  bully went down on his knees, grunting painfully between clenched teeth. Nick 
  heard two fingers break before he released the boy. He faced the other 
  students, prepared to battle them all. 
  "Who's next?" 
  One other student charged at him, but Nick sidestepped and brought up a knee, 
  catching him off guard. With two quick chops to the back, the student fell 
  face down on the cement. Two bullies were injured, and Nick wasn't even 
  breaking a sweat. The other four changed their minds and ran off. 
  Tim was gasping for air. Nick followed the sounds until he touched Tim's head. 
  "Are you going to be all right? Do you need me to call an ambulance?" 
  Tim groaned as he got to his feet. "No, I'll be fine," he muttered. Nick could 
  smell his blood. His nose or mouth or both must be bleeding. 
  "You fought them off," the student exclaimed. "All six of them. Like some 
  superhero. How come you let my uncle hurt you so badly?" 
  "I wouldn't let myself hit him back," Nick explained. "I was so angry with 
  him, that I was afraid I would kill him. I couldn't let that happen." 
  "I don't know if that would have stopped me," Tim said softly. "He said you 
  were a gutless coward. I'm glad to know he was wrong." 
  "Tim. We all make mistakes. Just try to do the right thing, and then you'll be 
  able to live with yourself. Got it?" 
  "Thanks, Detective. See you tomorrow." 
  Vachon came to Nick's side then, as they both listened to Tim's labored 
  breathing while he departed. "What do you want to do with the fallen foe?" 
  Vachon asked casually. 
  Nick shrugged. "Leave them for the trash. I don't want them." 
  Vachon lead him back to the bike and they both mounted again. Vachon felt how 
  much the little confrontation had drained his companion, though. Nick's grasp 
  around his waist was loose, and the older vampire seemed unsteady on the seat. 

  They were a long way from home. Vachon wondered how they would make it. He 
  drove very slowly now. Maybe if he could find some place for Nick to take a 
  rest, it would revive Nick enough? Vachon looked around as he continued. The 
  lake lay to the left, with dozens of boats at anchor. Vachon grinned as he'd 
  always loved napping in the bowels of some craft, feeling the dip and lull of 
  the waves against wood. He parked the bike, giving the stand a kick. 
  "What's up?" Nick asked. The smell of the lake was enough to tell him that 
  they weren't home yet. 
  "Nothing much. Come with me." 
  Nick got off the seat. He felt a little dizzy. Forcing back the vertigo and 
  the nausea that accompanied it, he reached for Vachon's sleeve. The other 
  vampire wrapped him in his arms and flew up, briefly, landing on the swaying 
  deck of a ship. Nick groaned; it wasn't exactly what his stomach needed right 
  now. 
  "Hey, Knight. You aren't getting seasick on me, are you?" Vachon asked 
  lightly. 
  Nick shook his head, regretting the small motion instantly. 
  "Come here, check this out," Vachon urged, taking his arm again. He told Nick 
  to duck, and brought him in out of the cool night air. They must be inside a 
  cabin cruiser, Nick thought, or some small sailing yacht, more likely, as the 
  scent of gas was faint. 
  Vachon lead him to a bed and sat down beside him. Nick felt the covers. They 
  seemed damp and smelled of fresh air. The mattress beneath was thin and firm, 
  resting on a plywood frame instead of more comfortable box springs. Nick 
  sensed the closed-in feel of the bed and reached up above him. The ceiling was 
  very low, and a curtain hung at the end of the bed for privacy. Nick heard two 
  plops as Vachon kicked off his shoes and crawled into the bed behind Nick. 
  The Spaniard stretched out, grunting softly. "I love to sleep on a boat," 
  Vachon admitted. "We can't stay long, but just a short rest should be okay." 
  Nick hesitated. A nap with the Spaniard seemed strange, and yet he was so very 
  tired. He kicked off his own shoes then and lay down. For a moment he wondered 
  if the Spaniard was going to start fluttering over him like the women did, but 
  then his fears receded. Vachon clasped his hands behind his head and sighed 
  contentedly. 
  "I got to get me a boat someday," he said. "Only, you can't see the stars from 
  this bed. I want a boat, with a softer bed, and a window or skylight so you 
  can see the stars. Do you think Tracy would go for that?" 
  "Maybe," Nick hedged. He rubbed at his stomach absently, willing the nausea to 
  pass. "I don't really know. She seems so eager to try anything new, though. I 
  gave her a recorder last month, and you'd have thought I gave her gold. She 
  was so excited." 
  "A recorder? Like, a flute?" Vachon sounded surprised. 
  "Yep." 
  They were companionably quiet for a while. The nausea finally passed, but Nick 
  was left feeling hungry and tired. His fangs erupted, and he was unable to 
  conceal them again. 
  He felt Vachon's eyes on him then and heard a change in the young Spaniard's 
  undead pulse. Tentatively, a cool slender hand reached for him stroking his 
  lip just above the fangs. Nick gasped at the sensuous gesture. He felt awkward 
  and hesitant. Although he shared blood with his master often, he seldom did 
  with other male vampires. He'd never even been curious about Vachon before. 
  But Vachon's touch was open and inviting, without demanding anything in 
  return, and Nick's hunger was intense. Vachon rolled closer to his side and 
  pulled his long hair back, baring his throat to Nick. The crusader didn't 
  hesitate a moment longer. He sank his fangs into the throat of the 
  conquistador and drank heartily. Nick arched his neck, baring it to Vachon. 
  Nick felt the twin stabs as Vachon's teeth bit in to him. The moment of pain 
  was instantly replaced with pleasure. Vachon was cool, dark, and spicy, 
  flavorful yet oddly innocent, considering his five hundred years. Nick gleaned 
  brief images in the blood. Vachon's easy nature seasoned every mouthful, and 
  his love for Tracy was evident. But something else was present, partially 
  concealed. Vachon was very, very contented. This was something the Spaniard 
  had wanted ever since he'd first met Nick nearly two years ago! Nick had never 
  once suspected. He felt honored, and strangely humbled. As the passion of the 
  vampire kiss crested and passed to a pleasant memory, they withdrew from one 
  another. 
  Nick wondered then what images Vachon had taken from him. Did Vachon regret 
  the intimacy? Nick felt his stomach tighten, and he panicked that he might 
  disgrace himself on the borrowed bunk. 
  The slender musician's hand found his stomach and gently massaged. "Sh, Nick," 
  Vachon whispered, his voice low and sultry. "Don't worry. I enjoyed tonight. 
  But if you don't want to do it again, that's okay too." 
  Nick tried to relax. The boat swayed gently, and Vachon's soft touch was very 
  soothing. "I liked it, Javier," he admitted. 
  Vachon grinned. "I'm glad. Me too. Now, are you up to the trip back?" 
  "In a bit. I don't want to move just yet," Nick whispered. 
  One night, Tracy's prank backfired. The jerry-rigged pail of water missed Nick 
  and hit their master. Perry cowered instinctively from the wall of rage before 
  him. Nick unwisely laughed. 
  "What is the meaning of this!" LaCroix demanded, ice water seeping through his 
  light coat and down his back. 
  "Sorry, Father," Nick said, unable to hide his grin. "I'm sure she meant it 
  for me." 
  LaCroix glared at his son. Although he was furious, he was also pleased that 
  Nick's uncharacteristic fearfulness seemed to have finally left him. He wasn't 
  sure if it was because he was working again, or living at his loft, or if it 
  was some residual healing effect of the childish pranks... perhaps it was a 
  combination of all three. Still, LaCroix forced his anger away and clamped a 
  hand on Nick's shoulder. "You will have to tell me, my son, what you plan to 
  do to retaliate. Perhaps I can give you some assistance." 
  Hesitantly Perry wagged his tail. He glanced from Nick to LaCroix. The tension 
  was broken. Later, after Nick rested, and after LaCroix read to him, then they 
  shaving-creamed Tracy's partner's car, and planted the empty can in the 
  backseat of hers. 
  "Somehow, that doesn't seem fair," Nick said, grinning widely. 
  "OF course it isn't," LaCroix said smugly. "Now, instead of just your pranks, 
  she may expect retaliation from her mortal partner as well." 
  Just before dawn, Nick's phone rang. He waited for the machine to pick it up, 
  and waited until he heard the girl's voice state her identity. 
  "Detective Knight? It's me, Tammisue Lamb." 
  Nick grabbed for the receiver. "Yes? Hello, Tammy. What's up?" 
  "I found out where Billy Bob's been staying, when he doesn't return home. Will 
  you go there with me tonight, when I confront him?" 
  "What time," he hedged. He couldn't go out until after dark, and he wouldn't 
  be late for class. 
  "About six? We could just go straight to class from there. It's not far." 
  Nick agreed. Tammisue gave him her address. Urs could drop him off there, and 
  Tammy would drive the remainder of the way. Nick said good bye and hung up. 
  Tammy was very upset, that much had been obvious. Nick hoped he'd be able to 
  help her. 
  At the appointed time, Urs dropped Nick off at a large apartment complex. 
  Tammy had been waiting for them. She chatted nervously about her brother, and 
  all he'd done for her as they were growing up. "He's really been good to me, 
  Detective Knight. I don't know where I'd be without him. Only, I suspect he 
  might be doing something bad now, and I just can't turn my back on it. I 
  really don't know what to do!" 
  Nick reached over and felt for her hand as it clenched the steering wheel. 
  Nick patted it reassuringly. "I don't know that I can do anything, Tammy, but 
  we'll talk to him. Okay?" 
  Nick tried to concentrate on the twists and turns, but before long he was 
  disoriented and had no clue where they were going. When she stopped the car 
  and opened her door, Nick realized that they were no longer in the 
  metropolitan area. The scent of trees and dense undergrowth assailed him. He 
  felt pine needles beneath his shoes, felt a heady sweetness to the air. 
  Tammisue lead them along a rough path to a house that must be well concealed 
  behind the thick growth. There was the smell of new construction about the 
  place. Fresh paint, new carpet, sawdust, and dirt. This house wasn't very old. 
  When the front door opened, Nick noted how their voices echoed slightly in the 
  wide-open space. The ceiling must be vaulted high above them, Nick realized. 
  It was probably a lovely home. 
  "Tammisue, what are you doing here!" a man's voice demanded. 
  "Billy, this is my teacher. We came to talk with you." Her voice quavered 
  slightly. 
  Nick extended his hand. "Good evening. Nick Knight." 
  The man hesitated. Nick sensed it as the man waved something in front of his 
  face. Then he heard the man's rude laughter. "Guess he's alright, sis. But you 
  had no right to bring him here." 
  Nick realized then that he'd "passed inspection" only because he would not be 
  able to see anything illegal. Tammy was probably right in her assumptions that 
  Billy Bob was in to something wrong. 
  The man led them into a comfortable sitting room. He offered them coffee or 
  cokes, but Nick declined both. He listened to Billy's idle chit chat for a 
  while, as he told about raising Tammisue, and how proud he was of her, 
  although he'd hoped she would find a safer career than law enforcement. 
  "Guess it just runs in the family," Tammy answered. 
  Nick was surprised at that. Had her parents been in law enforcement? The name 
  didn't sound familiar. But then, her accent wasn't local, either. "Where are 
  you from? Were your parents with the police force then?" 
  Tammy laughed. "We're from North Carolina, originally, Detective Knight. I've 
  lived here since our parents died, though. And pa wasn't a cop. No, just Billy 
  and hopefully, me." 
  Billy Bob Lamb, a cop? And possibly, a dishonest one? The name still wasn't 
  familiar. He'd ask Tracy to run a check on it. It was getting late, though, 
  and he didn't really have time to play forty questions. "Mr. Lamb, your sister 
  asked me to come along because she's worried about you." 
  The man laughed. Nick didn't like the sound of his voice. It was oily and 
  humorless. He felt sorry for Tammy, if this was all the family she had. "My 
  name's not "lamb", teacher." 
  Nick nodded. So maybe they weren't full siblings? 
  "Ma and my old man didn't get hitched until after I was born. So I'm a 
  Ledford, and baby sis here's a Lamb. And Tammy, you don't have to worry about 
  a thing. Haven't I always taken care of you?" 
  "But, Billy. What about the money. Where are you getting it? You don't earn 
  that much." 
  "Good investments, baby. I invested all of their life insurance premiums. It's 
  just now paying off," he explained. 
  "So you're not doing something wrong? You're not selling drugs?" 
  Billy laughed. "That'd be a joke. Cop Drug-dealer. Real dumb. No Tammy. I'm 
  not selling anything. Now, you'll be late if you don't get out of here." 
  Tammy reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Nick could sense her relief. 
  "I'm sorry, Billy. You've just been so different lately. I'm sorry I doubted 
  you. Good night!" 
  Nick extended his hand again. This time the man accepted it and gave him a 
  limp shake. "Good night, Mr. Ledford." 
  At the door, Nick drew in a deep breath, making a last impression of the home. 
  Beneath the smells of varnish and paint was something even stronger. Wet dirt, 
  humid air, and green plants. Lots of them. Nick inhaled again, knowing with 
  certainty, that Billy Bob Ledford was growing a crop of marijuana somewhere. 
  Tammy was silent as she drove to the academy. Then, before turning off the 
  engines, she apologized. "I'm sorry, Detective Knight, to drag you out there. 
  It was foolish of me." 
  "Tammy, you were right to suspect him. Trust your instincts, they'll serve you 
  well." 
  "What?" she asked. 
  Nick hesitated. She had a right to know, but how would it help her? Maybe, 
  ignorance was better, for now. "Nothing," he said. 
  He got out of her car and waited for her, then they walked towards the Academy 
  together. Perry seemed uneasy. Nick reached down and patted him. "What is it, 
  boy?" 
  The dog whined once. Nick stood and turned slowly, smelling the air. 
  Everything seemed normal. Perry whined again. Then, the carouche jumped on 
  Nick, knocking him to the ground just as a gunshot fired. The noise rent the 
  air with a deafening sound. Tammisue screamed. Voices inside the building were 
  shouting in confusion. A second shot fired. This time it found a mark, lodging 
  in Nick's left shoulder. He couldn't stop the cry of pain. 
  Perry straddled his charge, protecting Nick with his body. The dog looked 
  everywhere. He couldn't see the attacker. He wanted to flee, to chase the 
  phantom, but he didn't dare leave Nick unprotected. 
  Other mortals crowded around them now. Perry growled at them to keep their 
  distance. Tammy was frantic, crying and nearly faint with fear. 
  "Ohmyg*d, Detective Knight! What can I do? Talk to me! Someone, call an 
  ambulance!" 
  "I'm... okay," Nick grunted. He hurt like hell. Bullets didn't usually affect 
  him, but this one hadn't gone clear through. It was stuck in his collarbone, 
  and he was bleeding profusely. He felt hungry and weak. If only Perry could 
  help him to put on his sunglasses... he'd better keep his eyes closed. 
  Roger was there. He patted Perry bravely, then spoke to Nick. "Hiya, Teach. 
  Esteban went to call 911. An ambulance should be here soon. What can I do to 
  help?" 
  "Take my phone, and call the coroner," Nick said. "Her number's preset, just 
  dial 04." 
  Perry growled as Roger went through Nick's jacket pocket. Nick spoke to him. 
  "It's okay, boy. Let him help." 
  Perry kept his vigil, protecting Nick with his body, but he permitted Tammisue 
  to wad up a scarf and press it over the bleeding shoulder wound. He watched 
  intently as Roger pulled out the cell phone and made the call. 
  Natalie answered. Nick sighed with relief. It was early, he hadn't been sure 
  she'd be at work yet. 
  "Um, Detective Knight told me to call," Roger fumbled. "He's been shot." 
  Natalie grabbed her special vampire med-kit, and left in a flurry. "Don't let 
  the ambulance take him until I get there," she ordered the student. "Nick has 
  a lot of allergies, and I'm familiar with his special needs." 
  Natalie, the police, and the ambulance all arrived at about the same time, 
  along with LaCroix. The school dean ushered the students back into their 
  classrooms, although he knew their attention was lost. Tammisue answered 
  questions posed by the police and the dean, but she didn't know anything. 
  Natalie allowed the paramedics to transfer Nick to the ambulance, but then she 
  took over. LaCroix proved helpful in keeping them cooperative. She removed the 
  bullet, wincing at Nick's cry of pain. He was bleeding far more than he 
  should, and he vomited the blood she gave him. She bandaged the wound then and 
  turned him over to LaCroix, knowing that the ancient might succeed where she 
  had failed. 
  LaCroix had flown over, so Natalie gave them a ride back to the loft. Nick had 
  been fed from his master and finally slept. She wept for him. He had been 
  doing so well! Why this? Why now? Was someone specifically gunning for him? Or 
  had he just been in the wrong place? Unfortunately, Nick was the only one who 
  might know, and he would not awake for many hours. 
  "Let me know if you learn anything," LaCroix said, as he stepped out of her 
  car. 
  "Same here." 
  "Come, carouche," LaCroix called. "You've done well tonight." 
  The dog followed obediently. He hadn't done that well. Nick was still hurt, 
  and the assailant was at large. He hung his head, and his tail drooped between 
  his legs. 
  "Tracy," Reese called, when she returned to her desk. "Your partner's been 
  shot." 
  She looked around, but Ledford was right behind her. 
  "I mean, Nick. Someone took two shots at him in front of the Police Academy. 
  He was hit in the left shoulder. Natalie said he's going to be fine, but I 
  thought you should know. And, I'd like you two to assist with the 
  investigation." 
  Tracy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Poor Nick. Was he some sort 
  of disaster magnet, attracting all the idiots of the city? It had to be a 
  mortal. A vampire wouldn't have used a gun. But why would a mortal want to 
  shoot a blind teacher? Was it some ex-con with a personal vendetta to see Nick 
  suffer? 
  "This makes two attempts. Last week when the gas line had been tampered with, 
  although that would have hurt the entire school, and not just Nick. I want you 
  to find out if he was the target all along. There are too many lives at risk 
  here, besides his. If those students are in danger, I'll close the school." 
  As they left Reese's office, all Tracy wanted to do was to go see Nick. She 
  would have to ditch Ledford somehow. He gave her the opportunity, actually. 
  "Say, Trace. I know you'll want to go see him. I don't really need to go 
  along. My sister's at the academy. I'd like to go check in on her. If that's 
  all right." 
  "Yea, sure. Thanks, Ledford. You're not such a creep after all." 
  "You still owe me a paint job," he warned. They'd argued about the shaving 
  crème stunt for days. The crème had got into the wires and caused a short, 
  messing up his lights. He'd spent over a hundred dollars having the electrical 
  system checked out. 
  "I take it back," she replied, grinning at him. She went around the side of 
  the building and checked quickly to see if it was clear. Then she leaped into 
  the night air and flew to the loft. 
  Nick was laying in his bed, his chest bare but for crimson-stained bandages 
  around his shoulder. Perry lay at his side, his head resting on Nick's thigh. 
  His golden eyes looked at her dolefully. Tracy couldn't resist the urge to pat 
  the dog's head. 
  "I heard how you knocked him to the ground, Perry. The police said that if you 
  had been a moment later, the first shot would have hit him in the back of the 
  head. You're a hero." 
  The dog whined softly. 
  LaCroix sat on a chair pulled up to the side of the bed. He gave her a hooded 
  look. "Do you have any idea who might be behind this?" 
  "No, sir. But I'll find out." 
  "He was doing so well," LaCroix sighed. "If I find this mortal, I will kill 
  him." 
  Tracy knelt by her master's knee. "I will find him, sir. He'll go to jail for 
  attempted murder. And if he tampered with the gas line last week, he'll go to 
  jail for a very long time." 
  LaCroix cupped her chin with his hand. "I am doubling your protectors, my 
  child. This mortal is dangerous." 
  "What do you mean, my protectors? LaCroix! Do you have body guards on me?" Her 
  voice raised, eliciting a warning growl from the carouche. She lowered her 
  voice, but her eyes hardened. "I thought you trusted me!" 
  "You are an infant, child. Of course I trust you. I have also grown fond of 
  you. And Nicholas cares about you. I will not allow anyone to harm you." 
  She felt tears press against her eyelids. "Fond" of her? He had told her she 
  could work alone, without a vampire bodyguard, several months ago, when Nick 
  had first lost his eyesight. Tracy had felt so honored! But, a part of her had 
  also felt a little neglected. He had been so worried about Nick. Part of her 
  was glad that he had cared enough to place protectors over her, although she 
  still felt betrayed. No wonder why Nick's feelings towards their master were 
  so confused... Tracy wasn't sure what she felt now. 
  "My hirelings have done well," LaCroix commented. "They were to keep you from 
  harm, and not let you know they were there. Surely, my child, when you see how 
  much trouble Nicholas manages to find, you can understand my protectiveness." 
  Tracy hesitated only a moment longer. She gazed up at the ice blue eyes, 
  rimmed with flecks of gold, saw the tension and worry in his face, and her 
  anger melted. He loved her. So what if he had deceived her. He cared enough to 
  protect her, and that was a wonderful feeling. She twined her arms around his 
  neck and kissed him. "I love you, Dad." 
  LaCroix inhaled her fragrance. He patted her silky, short blonde hair for a 
  moment, before withdrawing from the emotional contact. "Nicholas will sleep, 
  my child. Perhaps you would care to return at dawn? I doubt he will awake 
  until some time tomorrow." 
  "Sure. Fine. See you then," she said. She leaned over and placed a tender kiss 
  on Nick's forehead, before returning to the night. 
  When dawn approached, Nick felt the presence of his entire family hovering 
  around him. He felt weak and pain throbbed in his shoulder. He blinked, trying 
  to fight through the faceless void that kept him unconscious. With a gasp, he 
  made his way back to life, such as it was. 
  "Nick," Natalie said, brushing his hair from his forehead. "It's good to see 
  you." 
  Nick blinked again. The room remained dark to him. He felt LaCroix's watchful 
  presence nearby and turned in that direction. The slight movement made him 
  wince painfully. His fangs erupted. He heard Nat's soft gasp, but he couldn't 
  apologize now. "Master," he whispered. 
  At once his master's arm was within easy reach. Nick held it with his right 
  hand, bringing the vein closer. He sank his fangs into the soft flesh, heard 
  his master's intake of breath, and sucked hungrily. He sensed LaCroix's 
  concern, and his anger at the nameless attacker, but nothing else. The master 
  was shielding himself now. Nick grew concerned. It was just a gunshot wound. 
  He'd been hit before. So what worried the old man now? 
  Then he felt LaCroix's exhaustion. It wasn't in the blood. Nick wasn't sure 
  how he'd sensed it. But LaCroix had been feeding him all through the night. 
  Nick withdrew immediately, embarrassed that he'd demanded so much. 
  "Thank you, LaCroix," he whispered. 
  "Nick?" That was Tracy's voice. "The police think some one must be after you. 
  First the gas leak, now this hit man. If Perry hadn't knocked you down, that 
  first bullet might have hit your head. Did you sense anything? Do you have any 
  ideas?" 
  "It's not me," he said firmly. "I don't believe I'm the target. Not this 
  time." 
  "Well, it sure looks that way to them. They don't want you back in the 
  classroom until this is solved. They don't want the kids at risk." 
  Nick grunted angrily. 
  "I would not allow you to return to work tonight regardless, my son," LaCroix 
  stated firmly. 
  "Nat!" Nick demanded. "Tell him that's ridiculous! This is just a bullet 
  wound! I'll be fine." 
  "Sorry, Nick," Nat said sadly. "Now before you throw another fit, just listen 
  to me. Your shoulder bled all night long. You've lost more than you can take 
  in, and the only blood you can keep down is LaCroix's. Neither one of you is 
  getting out of this bed tonight." 
  "Nat?" Nick asked, a tremor of fear crept into his voice. "This isn't 
  permanent, is it? Not like my blindness? It will get better?" 
  "Nick, your blindness isn't permanent, either. You have to believe that. No, 
  the shoulder wound is healing, just very slowly. Tonight, you must lie still - 
  no playing. Tomorrow I might let you get up. But work is out of the question 
  for now." 
  "Yes, ma'am," Nick answered. He didn't like it, but he was hurting. She might 
  be right. 
  "Well, I've got to go. LaCroix, you can call me if there's any change." 
  Nick heard her leave, heard the lift rattle and clang as she descended. Tracy 
  and Urs were still hovering over him, though. 
  "Tracy," he called. "I learned something about your partner. Tammy's brother, 
  Billy Bob, his last name is Ledford, not Lamb." 
  "Billy Bob Ledford? You mean, my partner, William Robert Ledford, goes by the 
  name Billy Bob? That's a hoot." 
  Nick drew in a breath. His shoulder was throbbing, and he felt sleep creeping 
  back upon him. He had to get this out quickly. "Tracy, I think he's growing 
  marijuana. Lots of it. That's where he makes his money. It's going to crush 
  his little sister, when the news breaks. Thought you should know." 
  Urs ushered Tracy away then. "That's enough, dear. They both need their 
  sleep." 
  "Billy Bob Ledford," Tracy muttered, grinning to herself. 
  Nick had said Billy Bob was growing pot, lots of it. She'd suspected from the 
  start that he was doing something illegal. He just seemed the type - too 
  smooth, too rich, too something. She'd love to bust him, but she had to find 
  the evidence, and Nick wasn't going to be much help. But then, Ledford had a 
  little sister. This was going to affect her, too. If only Ledford could just 
  get out of business, and they could sweep all this under a rug. She'd have to 
  let Ledford know she knew, though. That knowledge might make him controllable. 
  Could he have hired someone to hurt her brother? Even as soon as she thought 
  it, she disregarded it. Ledford was a sleaze, but he was small-time. Growing 
  pot didn't make him a killer. It made him a hick from Appalachia, trying to 
  make a few more bucks on a familiar cash crop. 
  But if it wasn't Ledford, then who? 
  "You're not much company," Vachon complained. "You spent the whole day with 
  Nick, and you have to go to work soon. Can't you spare a few minutes for me?" 
  Tracy forced a smile she didn't feel. "Sorry, Vachon. I'm not sure what I 
  feel. Like breaking something, maybe." 
  She told him everything then. How LaCroix hadn't really trusted her to be 
  alone, and how Nick's newest injury was healing too slowly, and even how 
  Ledford's horticultural skills were creating family problems. Vachon listened 
  half-heartedly, teasing her earlobe with the tip of a fang. 
  "You are such a pest," Tracy exclaimed, before turning on him with her full 
  attention. There was just time for that, if they didn't waste another minute. 
  Brendan paced furiously. He missed! How could he have missed! That teacher 
  should be dead. But he was injured, and he would not be teaching the rest of 
  the term, most likely. He wondered who would be running the class tonight. The 
  dean, maybe? Wouldn't Marnie just hate to hear that? She had said once that 
  the dean had no more talent than a slug. 
  But he needed more now. He needed Marnie to leave the hospital and come to 
  him! Which of her students should he target? She was fond of them all, but 
  which one did she talk about the most? That Esteban, maybe. He had a wife and 
  a baby. And Marnie said he was real smart, as though that was especially 
  important to her. Well, Brendan was real smart. Too bad she didn't seem to 
  notice that. He would take Esteban, and demand she come to his house, alone, 
  in exchange for the boy's life. 
  Tracy's shift slogged on, no news, nothing. She was restless and irritable. 
  She wanted to phone the loft to see how they were doing, but didn't want to 
  wake them if they were resting. She wished Urs would just call her. Twice 
  Ledford had snapped at her for not paying attention. She was itching to 
  confront him with her new knowledge, but so far, the opportunity hadn't 
  presented itself. Then, as they were cruising the streets more or less 
  aimlessly, they heard the fire trucks. Three big trucks sped past. 
  Ledford followed them curiously. The trucks left downtown, for the rural, 
  upscale neighborhoods, then towards the new developments. Ledford cried out as 
  he saw the smoke and flames. "That's my place!" 
  Tracy drew in a breath, wondering if the firemen would get high on the fumes. 
  They were wearing a lot of protective equipment, though, and it didn't look 
  like they were trying to save the house, only to contain the fire. 
  "Gee, Ledford. You must have lost a bundle," she remarked. "I'm sure you 
  didn't have crop insurance." 
  The look on his face when he whirled on her would have been worth a picture, 
  she thought smugly. 
  "What the hell does that mean," he demanded. 
  "Nick's my partner, Billy Bob. He said he smelled your marijuana. And now he's 
  been shot. What do you know about that?" She pushed him back against the car, 
  struggling to keep the amber glow from her eyes. 
  Ledford broke a sweat. His heart rate elevated. "I don't know anything, 
  Vetter. Honest. So I grew a little pot - I'm not a killer! You have to believe 
  that!" 
  She waited, letting him sweat. Then she shrugged. "I might. But internal 
  affairs wouldn't. You'll give up your moonlighting business, for your sister's 
  benefit, or I'm turning over enough evidence to put you away. Got it?" 
  "You did this! You torched my place?" Ledford asked, glaring at her hatefully. 

  Tracy denied it, but she did feel partly responsible. She sensed a vampire had 
  been here, and not very long ago. Vachon was going to have to do some pretty 
  fast explaining, or she'd never speak to him again! "I swore to uphold the 
  law, and I take that seriously," she insisted. 
  Ledford hesitated. She had him cornered, and she knew it. "But you're not 
  going to turn me in now?" 
  "No. You don't deserve a second chance, but Nick seems to think your sister 
  does." 
  Ledford wondered if she realized that withholding evidence and blackmailing 
  him was not exactly upholding the law, but then it was his own neck she was 
  protecting. He slumped against his car. He wiped his brow with a trembling 
  hand. "What am I going to do?" he gasped. His affected manner of speak had 
  dropped, and now his vowels sounded broad with a southern accent. 
  "You could try doing your job. I know police work doesn't pay as well, but 
  hey, it's a living," Tracy said, patting his shoulder without much sympathy. 
  Ledford's trembling increased. Tracy heard his heart rate elevate, saw his 
  body temperature rise. She thought she heard him very near to tears. Cripes, 
  she muttered under her breath. She still didn't like him, but she didn't want 
  to see him cry. 
  "You don't understand," he muttered again. "I borrowed big. I've never grown a 
  whole crop before, just small, petty stuff, to make ends meet. I mortgaged the 
  house, the car, and the life insurance policies, to set up in business. It's 
  all gone." 
  "Get in the car," Tracy commanded. She opened a door and shoved him inside. 
  Marching around the car, she got in behind the wheel and started driving. Her 
  thoughts were turning furiously. He had to have homeowners insurance, which 
  was required. He'd be out whatever "special" equipment he had to purchase for 
  his plants. "How much do you think you're short? How much do you have to have, 
  to pay off any creditors and start over clean?" 
  Ledford was thoughtful, then he named a figure. Tracy whistled between her 
  teeth. It was more than she had ever owned. But Nick was rich, and so was 
  LaCroix. Her master wasn't one for philanthropic gifting, and Nick was 
  injured. She was going out on a limb. But, heck, life was exciting. "I might 
  be able to help out," she said. Then drawing in a deep breath, she plunged 
  ahead boldly. "I'll cover your debt. And I'll take your car. You and your 
  sister can keep your home, your furniture; I don't want the dog, either. But, 
  you've got to stay clean. If I hear even the suspicion of scandal, you'll 
  regret it. I swear." 
  Ledford stared at her. "I underestimated you, Vetter. I took you for a 
  brainless, pampered child. Instead you're one shrewd avaricious cookie." 
  Tracy grinned. "Thanks." 
  Tracy continued to drive, although she wasn't certain where to go. Her 
  thoughts left the burning house, and wandered back to her brother. Nick was in 
  danger, and she had to find out why. "So, if you didn't hire someone to hurt 
  Nick, then who did? Maybe they weren't gunning for him at all. Maybe they 
  wanted your little sister? Have you made enemies?" 
  "No," Ledford said loudly. "No. Besides, the weapon the attacker used was too 
  sophisticated to miss. He hit Nick because that was his target. The guide dog 
  saved Nick's life. That weapon wouldn't have missed." 
  "What if Nick wasn't the target, specifically, then," Tracy wondered. "I mean, 
  if the building had blown up from the gas leak, a lot of teachers and students 
  would have been hurt. Maybe Nick's only a target because he's teaching at the 
  academy." 
  "Could be," Ledford said. "Let's question the teachers. See if any of them has 
  received hate mail, or threats recently." 
  Tracy glanced at her watch. "Classes are still in session." "Let's go to the 
  hospital. We'll speak with Nick's Mrs. Kelischek first." 
  "But it's late," Tracy said. She was hesitant to disturb a pregnant woman at 
  this hour. 
  "She'll welcome the diversion," Ledford said assuredly. "The lady's trapped in 
  bed for months. I bet she's about stark raving mad by now." 
  Marnie Kelischek was still awake and very glad to see anybody. She offered 
  them both chocolates her husband had sent, and gestured to the windowsill 
  covered with flowers. "Wish the arrogant jerk realized that I'd rather have 
  him here than his gifts, but you know how important work can be," she 
  muttered. 
  "Marnie, Nick was shot last night on the steps of the Academy. I want to know 
  if you've had any hate mail, any enemies, any one at all that may be trying to 
  hurt you or the school through hurting Nick." 
  Marnie's face paled noticeably. "Ohmyg*d," she said. "Is he all right?" 
  Tracy nodded. "His dog knocked him down, or the bullet could have killed him. 
  He took one in the shoulder." 
  Tears spilled down Marnie's face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "But, I don't 
  know who would have done such a thing." 
  "What about this Brendan guy, that you had removed from the hospital," Ledford 
  prodded. "Tell us about him." 
  Marnie told him everything. How Brendan had been hitting on her for two years. 
  At first it had seemed harmless, and she'd even been a little flattered. Her 
  own husband was gone more than not. She still loved him, she insisted 
  defensively. "But, Brendan kind of scares me now. I mean, it's like he's 
  stalking me. He's always there." 
  "So you think he could be dangerous," Ledford stated. 
  Marnie was going to deny it, but then she changed her mind. "I don't know. He 
  could be. But why would he shoot Nick? I hardly even know him." 
  "Criminal minds don't always make sense," Tracy said. "Maybe he thought you 
  and Nick were cozy. Or maybe he thought taking out your substitute teacher 
  would hurt you through your students. Who knows." 
  "But what if it's not him? I hate to see you waste your time chasing a dead 
  end," Marnie said. 
  "It's our time to waste. Look at it this way. If he's harmless, won't you and 
  your baby feel safer? We'll put a phone tap on your line here, and put 
  plain-clothes officers around your room. I'll want his address, too. We'll 
  tail him, and if he so much as sneezes in your direction, we're going to know 
  about it. Okay?" 
  Marnie nodded. "Thanks. I think I feel better already." 
  "Vetter, why don't you stay here with her, just in case he calls tonight. I'll 
  go set things up and clear it by Reese," Ledford suggested. 
  Tracy was about to argue with him, but it did make more sense for her to stay 
  with the pregnant woman. Besides, she wouldn't need the line tap to hear any 
  phone conversations. She tossed Ledford her keys. She'd give him her car, as 
  soon as she took possession of his little black Jag. 
  Nick awoke again, to sense his master sleeping beside him. LaCroix seemed 
  weary. Nick reached out to touch him. The master's cold skin felt dry. Nick 
  tingled with the contact. Unguarded, he sensed his master's dreams. 
  LaCroix was thinking of him again, but there was a wistfulness in the dream. A 
  need to protect and comfort. There was also desire, but Nick didn't think it 
  was for him. While LaCroix was spending time with him, he was neglecting his 
  lover. Nick moved his hand away, permitting the ancient his privacy. He would 
  have to concentrate harder on getting well again. 
  The priest had talked with him at length about obedience and the will. He said 
  Nick was given a will and given the choice whether to obey or defy. Obedience 
  to his father was not an act of weakness, as much as a conscious act to 
  control his willful nature. Within obedience, there was still room for 
  independence. He was still lord of his life. He was still responsible for the 
  roads he chose to follow. 
  Nick didn't feel much like a lord right now. He felt like a victim. He knew 
  that he would stay with LaCroix now, and when the ancient moved on, he would 
  go with him. But, perhaps he could still decide his own destiny? He would 
  speak to Aristotle about it when he felt better. 
  The hunger came again. His fangs erupted and he felt a pressure build behind 
  his eyes. Nick needed to feed. He struggled to rise, but the pain was intense. 
  Then a strong hand held him down. 
  "I believe the doctor ordered you to stay put," LaCroix grumbled. 
  "I didn't mean to wake you," Nick said. 
  LaCroix saw his fangs, felt his hunger. He held his wrist out to the boy 
  again, but Nicholas hesitated. The younger vampire caressed his wrist 
  lovingly, not taking what was freely offered. 
  "Have you fed well, master?" Nick asked. 
  Damn, he thought. Nicholas was getting far too perceptive. "That is not your 
  concern," he snapped. 
  "I will feed after you have," Nick said firmly. 
  LaCroix flew from the bed. "Impudent child!" 
  Nick smiled as he heard his master rip open the refrigerator. In less than a 
  breath of time, the master plopped back in bed, several glass bottles rattling 
  in his grasp. Nick clenched his teeth against the pain the jiggling mattress 
  brought to his shoulder. He heard the cork pulled free from the first bottle, 
  caught the scent of the cold blood as it filled the air around him. His fangs 
  tingled in anticipation. Nick waited, listening to his father drink. When the 
  second bottle was drained, then he reached for his master. 
  "You must take care of yourself," Nick chided him with amusement. "We all 
  depend you." 
  LaCroix stretched out beside his son. He stroked the side of Nicholas's cheek, 
  admiring his fanged child's beauty. "As you wish, Nicholas. Now, drink." 
  Nick reached out to bite the proffered wrist, but it moved just out of reach. 
  The vampire hissed, even as Nick struggled to control his beast. "LaCroix!" he 
  pleaded. 
  The ancient chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Ah, my son. It 
  pleasures me to see you like this. But tell me, when you are healed and no 
  longer dependent on me, will you still beg for it? Or will you again despise 
  me?" 
  Nick's right hand groped for and found LaCroix's wrist, but he wasn't strong 
  enough to pull it nearer. "I won't leave you, master," he promised. "Please!" 
  LaCroix lowered his arm and let him drink. He shuddered pleasantly as he felt 
  his son take from him. "I will hold you to that, Nicholas," he whispered. 
  The phone rang, startling Marnie from a light doze. She groped for it, pulling 
  the receiver to her ear and yawning. "Hello?" 
  Tracy was instantly alert, listening in to the conversation. It was a man's 
  voice. At a gesture from Marnie, and her elevated pulse, Tracy gathered that 
  it was the stalker neighbor Brendan, and not her husband. 
  "I did it, Marnie," the man said. "I hurt your sub. I tried to blow up the 
  whole school, but that failed. So I just hurt your sub. Your students won't 
  learn now without you. But, since you still care for that baby more, I had to 
  up the stakes. I've got one of them here." 
  "One of my students?" Marnie interrupted. "You kidnapped someone? Why, 
  Brendan! What do you want?" 
  "Shut up, and I'll tell you," he demanded. "You threw me out, Marnie. Do you 
  know how that hurt? After all I've done for you? I wanted to hurt you back. 
  I've got Esteban. Say hello to your teacher, boy!" 
  Marnie heard a slap and heard someone grunt. "Marnie, don't listen to him," a 
  frightened boy's voice exclaimed, before he was hit again. 
  "You'd better listen to me," Brendan threatened. "You are all I want, baby. 
  You're all I ever wanted. So you will come to me. Now." 
  "Brendan, I can't leave the hospital. I'll lose the baby! I could die!" 
  "Oh, I won't let anything happen to you. But of course you'll lose the brat. I 
  won't take it, now. Not after the way you treated me. You can still save 
  Esteban. You get up and get dressed, and come to my house. I'll let the boy 
  go, and you and I, we can go away somewhere together. Come to me tonight! 
  Alone! Or I'll kill him at dawn. I promise you I will. I'd have killed your 
  sub, if his stupid dog hadn't got in the way." 
  "I believe you, Brendan," Marnie said, sobbing into the phone. "Please, don't 
  do this!" 
  "Tonight, babe." Then the line went dead. 
  Tracy took the phone from Marnie and hung it up. She held the woman as she 
  cried, gently patting her back. Marnie tried to tell her about the phone call, 
  but Tracy hushed her. 
  "I heard," she said. "Now, you're going to just stay here. I'll dress in your 
  clothes. Maybe I can get him to come out of the house, you know, distract him, 
  while my partner gets the boy out safely." 
  Marnie dried her eyes, trembling uncontrollably. "I've never thought of myself 
  as weak before, but I don't want to hurt my baby." 
  "I understand," Tracy said. "Don't worry. This is my job. It's what I do." 
  Tracy opened the narrow locker to find the maternity outfit Marnie had worn to 
  the hospital. Pulling the clothes on over her own, she borrowed a pillow from 
  the other bed and stuffed it into the elastic waist pants. "Do I look 
  pregnant," she asked, arching her back and waddling awkwardly. 
  Marnie smiled at the weak joke. "Yeah, about nine months. I'm not that big 
  yet, am I?" 
  Tracy just winked at her. Then she placed a call to her partner. Her new 
  instincts to hunt were thrumming with excitement. Momentarily, Marnie pulsed 
  in tasty red hues, until Tracy blinked back the vampire. 
  "You just rest now, you hear?" she told the young mother. Then she left. 
  Tracy parked two blocks away from the residential address Marnie had given 
  her. She waited until Ledford drove up. He brought several other unmarked cars 
  with him. Tracy reviewed the plan with him. Then with a grin, she drove on. 
  She parked in Marnie's driveway. She got out and started to walked across the 
  street towards Brendan's house. Her pillow shifted. Grabbing her soft middle, 
  Tracy leaned over and groaned, as though in pain. She peeked up through her 
  bangs to see a face in the window looking at her. 
  Tracy was a little smaller than Marnie, even pregnant. She pulled Marnie's 
  spring coat around, and kept the hood up to conceal her face. She took a few 
  more steps, then groaned. She sat down on the pavement and waited. He had 
  taken Marnie to the hospital and spent twenty-four hours at her side. Tracy 
  was betting that he would come out to give her a hand. She didn't have to wait 
  long. 
  "Marnie, get up and get in here," Brendan demanded. 
  Tracy didn't want to speak, and let him suspect she wasn't Marnie. Instead, 
  she rubbed at her abdomen and rolled onto her side, groaning painfully. 
  Brendan put something down and ran to her side. She heard the other officers 
  jump from behind the house, kicking his gun out of the way. Brendan reached 
  her, pulling at the hood that concealed her face. 
  "Marnie!" he screamed. 
  "No, it's Tracy," she answered, clamping an iron grip around his wrist. Just a 
  little harder and the bones would crush. She heard him cry out, saw the pain 
  and surprise register in his face. All she could think of was how he had tried 
  to kill her brother. 
  Ledford came then, clamping handcuffs around the free wrist, then trying to 
  get Tracy to release Brendan's other hand. "Come on, partner. You got him. 
  Let's arrest the basta*d and go home." 
  Tracy let go reluctantly. "You are lucky you missed, mister. No one messes 
  with my partner." 
  Tracy got to her feet and pulled the pillow from her pants. The maternity 
  pants didn't want to stay up, then. She let them fall down around her ankles 
  and stepped out of them, feeling the eyes of several officers on her 
  curiously. She flipped the empty pants in their direction, and laughed, 
  enduring the ribbing of the other officers. Ledford just nodded at her. 
  Someone lead Esteban Baule from the house. His nose and lip were bleeding, and 
  one cheek was bruised. He looked terrified. One officer started to take his 
  statement, but Tracy interrupted. 
  "Come on, kid. I'll give you a ride. Guys, you'll get his statement at the 
  precinct, after he's had a chance to catch his breath." 
  Esteban started shivering in her car. Tracy turned up the heat, but knew it 
  was fear and adrenaline more than the temperature that affected him. 
  "That guy was crazy," he said. "He told me how he tried to kill us all! How's 
  teacher? How's Detective Knight? Man, I'm so sorry he got mixed up in this." 
  "Nick's going to be okay, Esteban. Really," she reassured him. 
  The statement was over with quickly. Tracy felt the sunrise was not far away. 
  It was time to go home. 
  Nick was up when she got to the loft. He was sitting stiffly in a chair while 
  Natalie rebandaged his shoulder. The wound was not still bleeding. It looked 
  somewhat improved, actually. Nick didn't look his best, but he smiled at her. 
  "Hi, baby," he said. 
  "We got your assailant tonight," she announced. 
  LaCroix flew down into the room. "Tell me about it," he said smoothly. 
  Tracy then told them everything about Marnie and Brendan, and how she faked 
  him out with a pillow in her pants. She left out the burning house for now. 
  "And what will happen to this pathetic mortal now," LaCroix demanded. 
  Tracy shrugged. "I don't know for sure. He'll stand trial. He could get life 
  in prison." 
  "It's too good for him," the master hissed. 
  "LaCroix," Nick said softly. "It is done. You must leave this in the hands of 
  mortal justice." 
  "I must do nothing of the sort!" he snapped. Then, drawing a breath, he forced 
  himself to calm down. "However, I shall chose to let it go for now. If your 
  justice system fails to keep him locked up, I will exact my own justice!" 
  "Natalie," Nick said firmly. "I rested all night, at your orders. And I have 
  healed enough. The assailant is in custody. I am going to work tonight." 
  LaCroix started to argue, but then Natalie silenced him with a gesture. "Yes, 
  Nick," she said. "Since it is just part time, you may go. But, take it easy? 
  No pizza parties, or pranks, or walks across town? You come home after work 
  and rest. Got it?" 
  Nick smiled at her boyishly. "Yes, ma'am." 
  "Now, Lucien," Natalie said, latching on to his shirt and pulling him in for a 
  hug although the ancient vampire was as stiff as a tree. "Your place is a 
  mess, and Nick's doesn't have enough room for all of us. How about you and I 
  find someplace private for the day?" She slipped her hands around him and 
  pinched his behind playfully. 
  LaCroix hissed, but Natalie wasn't intimidated. "Don't you show those fangs to 
  me unless you're going to use them," she whispered into his ear. 
  LaCroix grazed his sharp teeth across her neck, relishing her quick intake of 
  breath. Perhaps taking a motel room would be a welcome change? He pulled away 
  from her and regarded his son. 
  "You will rest and feed well before work?" 
  Nick smiled as he nodded. "Of course." 
  LaCroix allowed Natalie to pull him towards the lift. "Good day, children. 
  Behave yourselves," he said. 
  Tracy got more comfortable on the couch and eagerly accepted the drink Urs 
  passed to her. "There is something more," she said slowly, then proceeded to 
  tell him about Ledford's place going up in flames. 
  Nick's brow puckered and he looked upset. "Tracy, you didn't do it, did you?" 
  "No! Of course not. But, I think I know who did." 
  "And?" 
  "I don't want to tell you just now. I need to speak to this person alone. But, 
  what I did need to ask was, Ledford needs some help. He mortgaged heavily to 
  buy his equipment. I don't want to help him get back into business, but just 
  give him enough to survive, so he won't lose the family home." She told Nick 
  the amount that would take. 
  Nick never even batted an eyelash. "Done," he said. 
  Tracy gulped. "Really? You'd give him that much? Geesh, bro." 
  "No. I won't give him a dime. I'll have the Brabant Foundation give it to his 
  sister." 
  "Thanks, bro," she said. Then she pulled out his deck of cards and started to 
  shuffle. She kept him up for several games, before he was obviously too tired 
  to continue. Then he and Urs retired to the bedroom. Tracy flopped on the 
  couch. Vachon hadn't come by. She'd have to find him tomorrow before work. He 
  was not going to take the law into his own hands, or she'd never tell him 
  stories about work again! 
  Nick's return to work was heralded with cheers and applause. The students 
  welcomed him back eagerly. Nick basked in their affection. He smiled, then 
  regained control of the class, directing them back to the subject at hand. 
  Esteban was a willing worker, assisting him in his tasks. It was with great 
  sadness that Nick counted the days until graduation. It was drawing ever 
  nearer. His students would move on, and Nick would be out of a job. It was 
  time to look ahead. He was not going to sit around the Raven all summer! He 
  made an appointment to see Aristotle after work. 
  "Are you looking forward to graduating?" Nick asked Esteban while they were 
  working together after class. 
  The young man shrugged. "I guess," he said. "Sure." 
  "Do you really want to be a cop?" Nick prodded. 
  "I guess." The boy wasn't exactly forthcoming. 
  "Being a cop is a good life," Nick began, "If you're up to it. But, the pay's 
  lousy, the hours suck, and your life is constantly on the line. Besides, half 
  the people you're trying to protect are afraid of you, and the other half 
  despise you. Is this really what you want?" 
  "No!" Esteban shifted awkwardly in his chair. "Look, Detective Knight. You're 
  a good teacher. I've really enjoyed your class. I'm just, I don't know. I 
  always thought I'd study law. Start out as a lawyer. I'd like to be a judge 
  one day. Only, I gave all that up when Misty was born. You know what really 
  sucks, too? We were using protection." 
  Nick nodded. "Look, I know of a scholarship fund that hasn't distributed all 
  its moneys for the fall term yet. I know you've got the grades and meet the 
  financial guidelines. I'll take care of your application. All you need to do 
  is submit a short essay stating why you should receive this scholarship. Are 
  you interested?" 
  "I had a scholarship before," Esteban confessed. "But it only covered tuition 
  and books. I've got a family to feed. I can't afford not to work." 
  "This is a full scholarship," Nick said. "It will give you enough to feed your 
  family." 
  Esteban was silent then. Nick heard him sniffle, and suspected he was fighting 
  back tears. "I'd given up. Thanks, Detective Knight. I'll go home and write 
  that essay tonight." 
  Nick asked him what the time was before he left. He still had an hour before 
  his ride would arrive. He'd have to go immediately, to have enough time to get 
  back. 
  Aristotle was open and friendly as he listened to Nick's request. It was 
  something he was willing to do. Nick shared a bottle with him before returning 
  to the Academy. LaCroix's limo picked him up, but the master wasn't there. He 
  rode home alone, wondering about it. 
  His loft was empty. Urs wasn't there, and Tracy wouldn't drop by for hours. 
  Surprising himself, Nick realized that he missed the apartment at the Raven, 
  when they could all share their days together. Maybe he'd ask his master how 
  the repairs were coming. 
  Suddenly, LaCroix was there. He flew in through the skylight, his fist 
  clenched around Nick's throat, as he drove the younger vampire back into the 
  stone wall. Nick's arms flailed out fearfully, but then he went limp in 
  LaCroix's grip. 
  Nick felt his master's rage. The ancient was furious with him, ready to do 
  great bodily harm. Nick didn't know what had his master so angry, but he was 
  afraid that he wouldn't be given the chance to explain. He thought hard, fast. 
  The priest's gentle suggestions failed him now. How could he honor this raging 
  beast without suffering a few broken bones in the process. Nick blinked back 
  tears. 
  "I love you, Father," he whispered. 
  LaCroix's hand stopped in mid-swing before it could connect with Nick's face. 
  "What did you say, you wretched child!" 
  "I said I love you, Father." 
  "THEN TELL ME WHY YOU WENT TO ARISTOTLE BEHIND MY BACK!" 
  Nick drew in a deep breath. He shuddered, hoping LaCroix would wait for the 
  explanation. 
  "You promised me!" LaCroix shouted. "You said that when you got well again, 
  you would not leave me!" 
  "I won't," Nick said again. "I will not move on without you. Aristotle knows 
  that. All I asked him was that when you insist we move, could he set me up as 
  a teacher. I think I'd like to try something other than law enforcement." 
  LaCroix's grip on his throat loosened. "A teacher?" he repeated. 
  Nick nodded. 
  "But what about this?" LaCroix waved an envelope in the air. Nick didn't have 
  a clue. 
  "What is it, master?" 
  "It is from the Canadian National Institutes for the Blind. You've been 
  accepted to their summer session. When were you planning on telling me this?" 
  Nick was thrilled he'd been accepted, but he feared LaCroix would not 
  understand. He blinked back tears. He reached up and gently touched his 
  father's face, feeling the little twitch in the jaw that revealed his anger. 
  "Please, Father," he whispered. "This isn't about leaving you. This is about 
  me learning to take care of myself until my eyesight returns, if ever it does. 
  This is a short, eight-week school for the blind. I'll learn to read and write 
  in Braille, among other things. I've told them about my "allergy", and they 
  said that wouldn't be a problem, either. Part of me doesn't want to go, like 
  learning these skills will be an admission of defeat, and I dread going away 
  alone. But, I need to do this. I need to reclaim some sense of 
  self-sufficiency. I want to live with you, and share my life with you, but I 
  want to be independent in some things. Can you understand?" 
  LaCroix removed his hand from Nick's throat. He stood silently, his arms at 
  his side. Nick stepped closer, putting his arms around the stronger man who so 
  easily intimidated him. He held him close, listening for any sound that the 
  ancient would acquiesce. LaCroix's strong arms enfolded him, then. He felt the 
  ancient's cheek against his forehead. He tightened his hold, pleading 
  silently. 
  "I do not mind reading to you, my son," LaCroix said. 
  "And I love to hear you read." 
  "Learning Braille is this important to you?" 
  Nick held his breath. "Yes, sire." 
  LaCroix said nothing for many long moments. Then he sighed wistfully. "You 
  have my permission to go." 
  It was over! Nick felt somewhat elated, that he had not only kept the 
  confrontation from becoming painful, but that he had actually "won" the 
  battle. But he was also terrified. Part of him really did not want to go. The 
  school would be strange. He wouldn't know his way around, and everything would 
  be so difficult! But he knew he had to do this. The only thing that would make 
  him change his mind now was if his eyesight suddenly returned. 
  "Are you getting eager to move, Nicholas?" LaCroix asked, pulling his son 
  towards the couch. 
  "No," Nick said. "Are you?" 
  LaCroix pulled a bottle from the fridge. He poured two glasses and warmed them 
  before bringing one to Nick. "No. I am not. The remodeling is nearly complete. 
  The workers will finish tomorrow. Tomorrow night Natalie and I will stay in 
  our new suite." 
  "That's great!" Nick exclaimed. "I'm happy for you." 
  LaCroix stayed for several hours, but he left well before dawn. Tracy and Urs 
  came together, laughing over some private joke. Nick moved towards his piano 
  and played the piece he and Tracy had been working on. She took the subtle 
  hint. Getting the small recorder from its case, she joined him on the piano 
  bench. 
  "You know I don't have an ounce of musical ability," she said. 
  "Not yet," Nick admitted. "But you have eternity to learn. Now, this is a 
  special little melody. One of LaCroix's favorites." 
  Tracy had learned to read the treble clef in school and the fingerings for the 
  soprano recorder weren't difficult. It wasn't hard to play in tune, either. 
  She found herself enjoying it, actually, and with Nick's embellished piano 
  accompaniment, the little song sounded quite nice. They practiced longer than 
  they should have. Urs put a stop to the lesson, shooing Nick to bed. As late 
  as it was, Tracy would have to crash on the couch. She and Vachon must have 
  argued, Urs realized, as they hadn't been together for several days. 
  The following night, Nick asked Vachon to take him up to the apartment. The 
  boxes had all been cleared away. The Spaniard accompanied him and Nick 
  explored the new suite, getting a sense for where everything was. It smelled 
  clean, and faintly of new-carpet odors, but it was spacious. Vachon told him 
  that the walls were a light blue, the carpet a deeper blue and green mix. The 
  curtains were doubled- solid black steel vertical blinds for the under layer, 
  surrounded by softer blue and green print drapes. Nick wondered at the color 
  scheme, so different from LaCroix's usual black and white with a touch of 
  blood red. 
  But, tonight would be their first night in the elegant suite. Tradition 
  demanded a small prank. LaCroix would expect no less. He had played similar 
  pranks on Nick and Janette countless times in the past. There was a small bar 
  in the suite with its own refrigerator. A bottle of champagne and another of 
  the Raven's finest were inside. Nick left the champagne. Then he substituted a 
  bottle of cow for the other. "Put this in the kitchen," Nick told Vachon, 
  handing him LaCroix's bloodwine. 
  "Knight. Are you sure you want to do this?" The Spaniard asked hesitantly. 
  Nick nodded. "I have to. Tradition must be upheld." 
  "It's your neck," Vachon answered. "Be sure to tell the old man I didn't do 
  it." 
  Vachon lead him back down to the Raven then. Patrick brought them each a 
  beverage as they settled in a dark booth near the rear. 
  "Is everything okay between you and Tracy?" Nick asked. 
  Vachon shrugged evasively, a gesture that was lost on Nick. "You know what 
  she's like. Upset one minute, hot the next." 
  "It's been a few days," Nick pointed out. "Since the night of the fire." He'd 
  been able to piece the two seemingly unrelated events together and drawn his 
  own conclusions. At Vachon's startled gasp, Nick knew he'd been correct. 
  "I didn't do it," Vachon confessed then. 
  "I know. Arson doesn't seem your style." 
  "But, I knew Tracy was in a no-win situation. She wanted that guy put out of 
  business. So, I passed the information along." 
  "To whom?" 
  "Constantine," Vachon replied. 
  Nick was quiet while he considered that. Taking mortal law into one's hands 
  was a dangerous activity, but one that vampires were not morally oposed to. 
  Nick had done it before on more than one occassion. He had killed Janette's 
  killers, after bringing her back across. 
  "So what was Constantine's price?" Nick asked casually. 
  Vachon heaved a relieved sigh. He hadn't been sure of Nick's reaction and was 
  grateful he hadn't pissed him off. "No charge, this time. He said he wanted to 
  do it for Tracy." 
  "She'll get over it," Nick said. "She can't hold a grudge." 
  Tracy left work a little early. It had been a quiet night and she was off 
  tomorrow. She'd cleared off her desk already. Even Ledford wasn't so bad to 
  work with anymore. She still missed Nick. He'd better hurry up and get well. 
  "Good night," she called, before leaving. 
  She drove towards the Raven. Tonight would be LaCroix and Natalie's first 
  night in their new suite. She had to go investigate the room. LaCroix had 
  shooed everyone away until it's completion. Tracy was just itching to see it. 
  She saw the bottle of cow blood in the refrigerator, and she laughed heartily. 
  That had to be Nick's idea of a prank. Well, she was not going to be out done. 
  She took the box of clean, empty bottles and stacked them in a pyramid behind 
  the door. Then she flew out through the skylight and returned to the nightclub 
  downstairs. 
  Natalie was jumpy all night. She couldn't wait for her shift to end! The 
  workers had completed her new suite, and all the boxes were cleaned up. She 
  and Lucien would celebrate tonight. Finally, Grace told her to just go. She 
  smiled at her friend as she booked off. 
  LaCroix met her at the door. He took her into his arms and carried her towards 
  their private domain. Only, an unholy racket of falling glass rent the air 
  when he pushed open the door. Natalie looked at the pile of empty bottles 
  without understanding. 
  LaCroix's pleasant expression had quickly turned to one of anger. Natalie 
  touched the stony face tenderly. "Forget it, love. It's just a harmless prank. 
  Don't spoil the evening, please?" 
  LaCroix nodded. He turned up some music, then, and filled their Jacuzzi bath, 
  adding soft fragrant salts to the water. He popped the cork from the champagne 
  for Natalie, then started to pour the foul-smelling cow blood into his own 
  goblet. Again, the anger threatened to spoil the evening. Natalie was barely 
  able to tease him out of it. They relaxed in the warm tub and made love. 
  Afterwards they each slipped into silken robes and danced slowly in the 
  spacious suite. Finally, relaxed and ready for bed, they tried to lay down. 
  Only, some one had short-sheeted the bed. 
  "That does it!" LaCroix growled, his eyes golden orbs of anger. Natalie was 
  rather put out herself. How could they do this? One prank, maybe two, but 
  three was definitely over-kill. She was tired herself and having to remake the 
  bed entirely at this time of night was just too much. She followed LaCroix as 
  he stormed from their suite. 
  Nick and Vachon were enjoying a drink together when Tracy joined them. It was 
  nice to see them getting closer, she thought. Guys didn't make friends often, 
  and Nick could use more of the laid-back, don't worry sort of friends like 
  Vachon. In fact, Vachon could benefit a little from Nick's over-developed 
  sense of duty. Maybe the friendship was good for both of them? 
  "Well, I wonder if LaCroix has found the cow blood I gave him," Nick said, 
  chuckling at his own prank. 
  Tracy laughed. "Maybe. But if he has, then he's already cleaned up the bottles 
  I stacked against their door." 
  "You didn't!" Nick exclaimed. LaCroix didn't have much of a sense of humor. 
  Two pranks in one night was definitely pushing it. 
  Urs groaned. "Uh-oh," she whispered. 
  Nick and Tracy went silent as they waited for her confession. 
  "I didn't know you two were planning anything. And, I never play pranks. I 
  mean, almost never. But I just couldn't resist." 
  "What did you do!" they demanded in unison. 
  "Short-sheeted the bed," she said. 
  Nick grabbed Tracy's wrist. "Come on, Baby. We'd better face him immediately." 

  "Don't be crazy, Nick!" Tracy squealed. "He'll be hell on wheels tonight. 
  Let's wait until tomorrow." 
  "Wrong answer," Nick said. "Don't give him a chance to stew and to perfect his 
  punishment. Better to apologize quickly and get it over with." 
  Perry accompanied Nick nervously. He sensed his charge's growing fear. He 
  would protect Nick from anyone or any thing, except LaCroix. His tail drooped 
  between his legs. 
  LaCroix and Nat were still in their room. Nick could sense his master's rage. 
  He sat quickly at the piano, and told Tracy to get out her recorder. Then they 
  started to play just as LaCroix and Natalie both stormed from their room. 
  LaCroix stopped for a moment at the picture they made. Two blonde heads bent 
  together submissively, two frightened impish faces, and the music. He hadn't 
  known Tracy could play anything. The recorder was a fairly simple instrument, 
  but the duet they played was very soothing. He could almost - not quite - 
  forgive them. 
  The song came to an end. Two faces looked at him. Tracy was fearful, but 
  Nicholas's expression was open. 
  "I'm sorry," Tracy said nervously. "I stacked the bottles." 
  "Sorry about the cow blood," Nick said. "I didn't know Tracy had already 
  struck." 
  LaCroix waited. How many more pranks had they played? Was it even safe yet to 
  be in his new suite? What other devilment had they planned to jump out at him 
  unawares? 
  Timid Urs stepped forward. "And I'm sorry about the sheets." 
  Natalie stared, open-mouthed. Urs was in on it, too? But it had all just 
  happened by accident. She laughed then. "I guess great minds must think 
  alike?" 
  LaCroix wasn't quite ready to let the children off their proverbial hook. "I 
  will deal with you both tomorrow," he promised them. "Now, you will play that 
  number for me again. Urs, you may remake my bed properly. Vachon? Bring me 
  something more suitable to drink, and I will forgive whatever part you played 
  in this. I know how coercive he can be." 
  Vachon leaped to do his bidding. Then he listened appreciatively as his lover 
  played the simple melody again. LaCroix and Natalie returned to their new 
  suite and closed and locked the door. Vachon and Tracy drifted to one room; 
  Nick and Urs took another. Perry eyed Sydney skeptically. As if on cue, both 
  bounded into LaCroix's old bedroom and divided the empty bed between them. 
  Perry circled around and around, before plopping down on the soft blankets. He 
  reached out and felt his daughter. She was faint and very far away, but she 
  seemed contented. Nick had talked about being lord of his destiny. It had 
  seemed very important to the young vampire. Perry thought about it briefly. He 
  was lord of his own destiny, sort of. A carouche had changed his life a human 
  year and a half ago, but since then, Perry had made his own decisions. He 
  brought Jody across to save her life. Then he granted her her freedom, because 
  it was so important to her. Nick needed him now. Perry helped him by choice, 
  but he liked how it made him feel. Useful. Important. Faithful. He would stay 
  with this one, perhaps for an eternity, even when his eyesight returned. Nick 
  was blind in more than just his vision. Nick was often blind to what really 
  mattered. Perry could help him. 
  Their bedtime games would be over by now. Perry jumped down and went to 
  inspect the children. He tugged on their blankets, covering them up, first 
  Tracy and Vachon, and then Nick and Urs. Nick reached out to him from his 
  sleep. The hand patted his head affectionately. Perry sensed his love for him 
  through the brief contact. Gently, he licked at the sweet face, so innocent 
  and peaceful in sleep. 
  "Good day, my young lord," Perry thought. 
  "Good day, my friend," Nick whispered in his sleep. 
  Perry watched him for a few moments longer. Soon, they would make a journey 
  together, just the two of them. Nick had explained it all. Perry was looking 
  forward to it, although he knew his charge was both excited and uneasy. He 
  worried that Nick would get too weak, staying that long away from other 
  vampires. Well, LaCroix would protect him; he always did. And now, Perry would 
  be there, too. 
  The end. 
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