Forever Knight

Serious Doubts

By

Barb & Pat Roman

 

This is the first in a series that provides an alternate ending for
Close Call. In this universe, the third season is radically changed as
well.

**********

Don Schanke stared at the paper on the clipboard before him. It had to
be wrong. It was just impossible. Incomprehensible. It couldn't be.
But then again ...

He double checked the notes that he had already double checked. For
the fifth time.

JOHN DOE 199

Known Associates

Janette

There was something about the owner of the Raven that didn't seem to
be quite right. Not that she was weird or anything like that. Well,
she was, but in a sexy sort of a way, and she was also drop dead
gorgeous. They were friends, they had acknowledged that. Old friends,
they said. But how old? She had said that they had known each other
since the Renaissance. He thought she was just exaggerating. But was
she?

 

Allergic To Sun

That was a gimmee. He admitted as much. According to Dr. Lambert, he
suffered from phototropism. An allergy to bright sunlight. Every time
he had to go out during the day, he either rode in the trunk while
Schanke drove, or he was bundled up so tight that it was a wonder he
could breathe. Of course, if what Schanke concluded was true, he would
not necessarily have to breathe. He had once said that he did not
sunburn, he imploded. Was he just making a joke?

Hypnosis

He was positive he had tried to hypnotize him after the shooting last
night. He vaguely remembered him telling him to forget what he saw. He
couldn't remember what it was he was supposed to forget, but he did
remember his eyes seemingly burrowing into his mind. Also, Janette had
tried to talk him into dropping his investigations when he went to her
for information. She had that same sort of look in her eyes as well.
Was this the first time? How much other stuff had he been 'persuaded'
to forget.

Also, he had the uncanny ability to put witnesses at ease. He could
get even the most hard core suspects to confess when the others
couldn't even get them to talk. Maybe he was using a little Doot De
Doot Doot?

Needs BLOOD!

He claimed that he kept the blood in his refrigerator to thicken his
paints. He told him that Raphael had taught him that trick. He thought
maybe he had read it somewhere, but what if it was the real Raphael?
If that was what he was using it for, why was there so much of it? And
why was it in fancy wine bottles? And why was it refrigerated?

He had never seen him eat anything. Not even a donut. What cop worth
his salt didn't like a donut or two now and then? It came with the
badge. All he ever consumed was those protein shakes that Dr. Lambert
brought him. Even then, he rarely took more than a few sips. And he
made the most gowdawful face. Like he was going to throw up or
something. He had seen him drinking 'wine' on several occasions. Come
to think of it, it the 'wine' came from those green bottles he kept in
the refrigerator.

Janette also drank 'wine'. Now that he thought about it, many of the
patrons of the Raven also drank 'wine'. Unusual for a tavern and
nightclub to have that many wine drinkers. Most of the bars he had
ever been in, the customers usually drank beer or whiskey, not wine.

Nicholas Forrester

That was the name on the New York Drivers License that he had found in
the glove compartment of the Caddy. The picture was his. There was no
question about that. It could have been taken yesterday, it was that
good. The only thing was that the License had expired in 1963.
According to the biography in his personnel file, he was born in 1958.
He would have been 5 years old in 1963. An Uncle? Brother? Nah! The
resemblance was too close.

Photos

Then there was the photo from the chest in Janette's storeroom. It
showed three people, Janette, a guy that looked like that
Nightcrawler, and him. They were all dressed in clothing from around
the turn of the century. And from the condition of the photo, it had
been taken at about the same time. Janette said that it was of their
grandparents, but just like the Drivers License, the resemblance was a
little too uncanny.

Then there was that 8 x 10 autographed glossy of The Nightcrawler.
Both he and Janette had the same picture. That was another person that
gave Schanke the willies. He listened almost religiously to The
Nightcrawler's broadcasts every night. Why, he did not know. They were
almost always filled with doom and gloom.

He folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket.

Even if all of this was some kind of an impossible preposterous
incredible coincidence, what about his superior strength and speed.
How many times was he the first on the scene when a perp was
attempting to escape? And how many times had he lifted seemingly heavy
loads as if they were made of styrofoam?

He could have sworn that he had seen him take a bullet or two on
several occasions, but he only laughed it off, saying that he had only
been grazed or that they had gone through his clothing, not him.
Truthfully, there was never any real evidence that he had been
injured. No bleeding to amount to anything, no limping, or anything
like that.

Add to that the fact that Dr. Lambert did all of his physical exams.
He wouldn't even let any other doctor near him. That was really weird
having a Coroner for a family physician. But then, she was a close
friend. And he had vehemently refused to go to the hospital on more
than one instance. And he was never sick more than one day at a time.

His relationship with the Coroner was another thing. They claimed to
be nothing more than friends. According to both of them, their
relationship was ... complicated. That was an understatement. Anyone
with half a brain could see they were googley eyed in love.

He had thought he possibly might have seen him fly earlier tonight.
Maybe. But that was too ridiculous to even think about. Then there was
this thing about his eyes. Several times he had thought he had seen
them glow, but it was usually only for an instant. It could have been
just a trick of the light. Just like he said. But then again ...

Schanke shook his head. Something wasn't quite right.

When Vera stopped by to talk to him and saw what he was doing, the
lightbulb went on in his head. She had hit the nail on the head, and
all the reference books he got from the library only confirmed it.
There was no question in his mind.

Nicholas B. Knight, his partner, was a vampire.

Now for the next step. What to do about it. First, he needed
conclusive proof. He thought about going to The Nightcrawler, but
rejected it. From his broadcasts, and from the limited contact he had
with the man, he had the distinct impression he would tell him what He
wanted him to know, not what Schanke needed to know. He needed
straight answers, not smoke and mirrors.

There was only one way to get the truth. Go straight to the source.

**********

Nick Knight lay on the sofa, his arms crossed in front of him. There
was still several hours until sunset. He had spent most of the day
tossing and turning. It was only in the last two hours that he had
fallen into the deep sleep that usually marked the daytime hours.

Last evening, his partner, Don Schanke, had to kill a suspect. It had
set him off on a tangent. Nick had flown from the roof of the building
just as the man took a bead on Schanke. This flushed the perp into the
open and gave Schanke a clear shot. If he had not done what he did,
Schanke would have been surely killed. Unfortunately, Schanke had seen
him fly. He had hypnotized his partner into forgetting. At least he
was positive he had. He had made a mental note to reinforce the
'suggestion' when he saw him tonight.

**********

Schanke punched in the access codes that Nick had given him several
months ago. He had stayed with him when he and Myra were separated for
two weeks. He had tried to call him several times, but all he got was
a busy signal. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe this was something
that should be handled in person, not over the phone. Slowly, the
ancient lift creaked to the ground floor. Sloppy! He should have
changed those codes on a regular basis. But he didn't. As the elevator
wheezed its way to the top, Schanke said a small prayer of thanks that
he hadn't. He fingered the crucifix he had given Jenny for her First
Communion in his coat pocket

Gently, he pulled open the huge steel door that was the entrance to
his partner's 'High Tech Dungeon of Doom' as Schanke called it. Even
in the near total darkness, he could make out the figure of his
partner on the couch. Beside him, the phone steadily beeped that high
pitched tone that signaled that it was off the hook. He turned off the
phone and gently replaced it on the cradle. That explained the busy
signals. Taking a deep breath, he slowly tiptoed to him. Schanke shook
his head. With the noise from the lift and the door and the phone, he
should have been awake almost immediately. Yet he was sleeping the
sleep of the dead. Schanke let a small smile creep across his face. If
he was correct, his partner was dead. Or rather, undead.

The next part was going to be the hardest. If the books were correct,
waking a sleeping vampire was dangerous at best and could be fatal. He
placed his hands over Nick's chest and took a deep breath. He pulled
his hands back and wiped them on his trousers. Again he placed them
over the chest. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to
whatever gods watched over fools and little children. He wasn't a
child, but right now he felt like an utter fool. If he was wrong, he'd
be making an ass of himself in front of his partner and friend. If he
was right ... he didn't even want to think of that.

Gingerly, he tapped his partner on the chest. "Nick?" He called. Then
he took three quick steps back. That was all it took. Faster than
Schanke could comprehend, Nick was before him. His eyes glowed orange
and his canines were at least an inch long. The sound that he made was
one that no being could make. At least no human being. It was
somewhere between a banshee's screech and a lion's roar.

Schanke pulled out the cross and held it in front of him. "Nick! Nick!
Get a grip!" He half shouted, half begged as he backpedaled toward the
door. "It's me! Your partner. Schanke! Donald G. Schanke! Remember!"

Nick shook his head slowly. His eyes returned to their blue color and
his fangs retracted. "Schanke?" He mumbled. "What are you doing here?
Is there some kind of a problem?"

"NO! NO PROBLEM!" Schanke said, still keeping the cross between him
and his partner. "Well, yes ... no ... that is ... I ... ah ..."

Nick homed in on his partner's heart. It was racing wildly. "Schanke."
He said softly, never taking his eyes from the detective's. "You did
not see what just happened. I awoke in a normal manner when you came
in."

"Didn't see ... normal ... " Schanke said woodenly. Then he shook his
head. "No. It wasn't normal. That's why I came here in the first
place. You are ... that is ... you see … I ... I know what you are."
Once again, he thrust the cross in Nick's face.

It took all the energy that Nick could muster not to cower before the
crucifix. It was fairly obvious that Schanke did, indeed know what
Nick was, but for his sake, for his very life, for both their lives,
he could not let Schanke know that he was right.

"Schanke." He began again in that same silky voice as before.
"Whatever you think you know, do not pursue it. For your own sake, let
the matter drop. You are tired. Go home. Rest. We'll talk about this
another time."

"Home … Rest. …" He shook his head again to clear it. " No you don't.
It won't work this time. I know. It was all there. Everything. Why I
didn't see it before now, I don't know. All the clues were right in
front of me."

"What clues? What are you talking about? What do you think you know
about me?"

"I'm talking about what you are. I know. You're a vampire." There. He
had said it. For better or worse, he had labeled his partner as a
creature of the night.

"There are no such things as vampires." Nick said, softly, slowly.
"You know that as well as I do."

"No. It all fits too perfectly. The blood. The night. Never eating.
The sun allergy. Everything. Look, I've known you what? Five years?
Hell, Nick, we're partners for chrissake. I know you're not one of
those evil blood sucking monsters they show in the movies. How many
times have you saved my tush? Not to mention all the others you
helped. You can't be an evil demon like they say in the books. You're
one of the good guys." He lowered the cross and slipped it into his
pocket.

Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew his partner too
well. He was too good a detective to let this slide. Whenever Donald
G. Schanke latched onto something, he was like a hound dog that had
treed a coon. He would not give up until he got answers. Perhaps it
would be better if he heard it from him. Now. Before he went and poked
his nose where he had no business being. If the Enforcers or LaCroix
... He shuddered to think what his creator would do if he ... Yes. It
would be best if he were the one to tell him.

"You are right." He said barely above a whisper. "I am a vampire."

"Oh."

That was not the answer that Nick had expected. He had thought that
Schanke would shout and do a victory dance like the athletes did when
they scored. Instead, he just stood there looking sort of dumbfounded.

"Now what?"

"Well, since you know that much, Perhaps I had better tell you the
rest of the story, as one of the radio reporters is fond of saying."

He spent the rest of the daylight hours explaining to him about
himself, the Code, and the Enforcers.

" ... And that is why you must swear on all that you hold holy that
you will never ... and I do mean NEVER ... tell anyone what you know.
Ever. That includes Myra."

"Man-o-man. What did I just get myself into?" He took out a hankie and
wiped his brow.

"I tried to warn you."

"I know. I wouldn't listen. I had to find out for myself. And now I
have. Man-o-man." He raised his left hand and placed his right over
his heart. "I ... Donald George Schanke ... do solemnly swear ... by
all that I hold sacred ... that I will never reveal what I know ... to
anyone ... Ever ... So help me God."

"Thanks, Schanke."

"No problem. That's what partners are for, after all." He thought a
moment. "You know, I could act as another set of eyes and ears for the
Community. You know, keep an eye out in the daytime? Maybe that will
be enough to keep those Enforcers off my back, or more appropriately,
off my neck." He smiled slightly at the pun.

"It just might do that."

"Are their others who know? Does Nat know?"

Nick did not answer, but the look on his face indicated that she knew.

"I thought so. I figured since you two were so close that she had to
know everything about you. Is that the reason why you two haven't ...
You know ... Gotten together yet?"

Nick only nodded sadly. "I know you have at least a thousand more
questions, but I also know that you're tired almost to the point of
exhaustion. It's your day off. Go home and get some sleep. We'll talk
more about this tomorrow."

"Reading minds, are we? Is that one of your vampire abilities?"

Nick smiled. "No psychic powers are needed. It's the bags under your
eyes."

"Okay, partner. You're right. See you tomorrow night." He headed to
the lift. "Are you sure I can't tell Myra?"

"SCHANKE!"

**********

He pulled the Caddy in behind the row of cars. There had been another
rape and murder. This was number three and they were no closer to
solving them than with the first one. Except that they were all women,
and they had all been brutally raped and tortured, there did not seem
to be any connection. The semen samples were the same, that was what
made them believe that this was the work of one man.

Julia Mercer, the first victim, was 30, black, married and the mother
of three young children. She did not work outside the home. Her naked
body was found in a culvert beside Kingston Road near Glenn Stewart
Park. She had been killed there at least twenty four hours before. Her
body was found by three boys playing in the park.

The second, Michelle Prater, was single and had turned 20 only two
days before. An honors student at Mt. Mikes College, she was in her
sophomore year, an exchange student from the States. She dated, but
there was no one steady. Her nude body was found in a dumpster behind
the Cloverdale Shopping Mall. She had been found by one of the
employees who had taken out the trash. She was killed somewhere else
and her body dumped there. Like Mercer, she had been repeatedly raped
and her torso and face were viciously slashed. She had been dead less
than a day when she was found.

This one, victim number three, was the grisliest of all. Her stripped
body was discovered propped up against a tombstone in Pine Hills
Cemetery. She had been brutally slashed and her blood splattered over
a three foot radius. The caretaker had discovered it on his regular
rounds.

As Nick approached the body, the victim's blood sang to him. Fresh
blood always did. From the intensity, he doubted that she had been
dead more than a few hours at most. He turned and closed his eyes
tightly, willing his fangs not to drop. "You start interviewing the
witnesses." He said to Schanke in a husky voice. "I forgot something
back at the car."

"Like that thermos full of blood you keep under the front seat?"
Schanke said as he followed his partner to the driveway.

"How … ?"

"I'm a detective, remember. I always suspected you kept a little
liquid fortitude in there. I guess I wasn't that far wrong."

Nick reached under the seat and took the bottle. He unscrewed the cap
and took several long swallows. He replaced the top and slid it back
under the seat. Then he reached into the glove compartment and took
out a sample sized bottle of mouthwash. He took some, swished it in
his mouth and spit it out.

"The blood I can understand, but why the Listerine?"

"Natalie."

"I thought you said that she knew all about you."

"She does. I just don't want her to know how much I really drink. She
has this theory that if she can get me off … it, she can reverse the …
my condition."

"You don't have to worry, partner. I won't tell the good Coroner."

"Won't tell the Coroner what?" Natalie came up behind them. Nick
quickly slid the mouthwash bottle in his pocket.

"That I … ah … ah … ran a red light." Nick stammered.

"Yeah. He ran a red light." Schanke repeated. "At King and Yonge. He
didn't want you to know that he broke the law."

"King and Yonge ... Right ... Nick, King and Yonge is in the heart of
downtown. You would have had to go eight miles out of your way. Want
to try again?"

"I … ah … What do you have on the victim?" He changed the subject.


Natalie consulted the notes on her clipboard. "According to her
Drivers License, her name is … was… Delores Shiningmoon. Age 31.
Height 5'7. Weight 128. Death was the result of multiple stab and
slash wounds to the head and torso. Any one of them could have been
the fatal one. She was also savagely beaten. Repeatedly. Over several
days. While I can't be one hundred percent positive at this time, she
was probably frequently raped, too. And here's the kicker. There is
solid evidence that she was alive when she was brought here. Bound and
gagged, but alive. Fresh rope burns on her hands and feet and marks on
her face where the gag was. TOD is within the last three hours. Rigor
mortis has only begun and the body is still reasonably warm. I'll have
more after the autopsy." She put the clipboard in her ever present
black bag and followed the gurney bearing the body to the waiting
Coroner's van. "See you back at the station." She called over her
shoulder.

Schanke wiped his forehead. "Man, that was close. "I don't suppose you
could use your … powers to solve this, could you?" He put his fingers
to his upper teeth.

"SCHANKE! Have you forgotten everything we talked about? I can't take
the chance of anybody finding out what I am. Even if I could, anything
I find couldn't be used in a court of law.'

"I can understand why. 'I got this evidence, you honor, because I'm a
vampire'. I guess that would be out of the question."

"Just a little. Besides, I couldn't really find out anything that
couldn't be discovered by ordinary methods. Being a vampire is highly
overrated."

"Well, then, let's get to work."

**********

"And just what is it that the good Coroner wasn't supposed to know?"
Natalie Lambert stripped off her gloves and tossed them in the
hazardous waste bin. "And don't give me that crap about running a red
light." Her gown and cap went into a dirty linen container.

"All right. I suppose you'll find out sooner or later anyway. I was
drinking blood. The sight and scent of all that blood was driving me
full goose bozo. If I hadn't taken a drink at the scene, I don't know
what would have happened."

"Drinking WHAT?" Natalie said with a mix of surprise and
disappointment. "Nick, we've talked about this too many times. The
blood is what keeps you from coming back across. As long as you keep
drinking it like this, you'll never get off it. It's like an addict
saying he'll only take one more fix just to take the edge off. It
doesn't work that way. It's either all or nothing. You've got to make
the decision. Do you want to be mortal or not? There's no middle
ground."

"Nat. You know I want to be mortal more than anything else. I can't
help it. The blood is more than a drug for me. It's my food. It's my
life. Nothing can take its place. Your protein shakes don’t even come
close. Even if I could keep them down."

"And that's why Schanke was lying for … WAIT A MINUTE! What was
Schanke doing there while you were drinking blood?"

"He … knows." Nick said barely above a whisper.

"He knows? How? When?"

"He figured it out by himself. Right after the shooting two days ago.
We spent most of yesterday talking about it. He seems able to handle
it."

"How about you? Can you handle it? At times you seem really
uncomfortable that even I know."

"I'll handle it."

"Handle what, Partner." Don Schanke said as he came into the morgue.

"The fact that you know about him." Nat said.

"Oh, that. Yeah. He told me all about the Code and the Enforcers.
Scary bunch of bastards, ain't they. I swore to him that I won't say
or do anything that'll get them involved. I swear the same thing to
you."

"What about LaCroix?" Natalie asked.

"Leave him to me." Nick said. "I'll handle him, too. When the time
comes."

"LaCroix. He's the one who ... brought you across, isn't he?" Don
asked hesitantly.

Nick nodded.

"He's also The Nightcrawler."

Nick nodded again.

"Another scary bastard."

**********

"Secrets." The silky voice of The Nightcrawler wafted over the Toronto
airwaves. "That is tonight's topic. We all have our secrets, don't we?
I'm not talking about the little inconsequential ones such as we are
an alcoholic, or that we have had a facelift, or that our hair color
is not our own. No, Mes Amis, I am talking about those secrets that
are so dark, so evil that they must be tightly locked into our being
so as never to see the light. The ones that if they were to surface,
could and would be the end of life as we know it. Do not try to deny
that they exist, My Children. Every closet has its skeletons.

As much as we try to contain them, these self same malevolent facts
cry to be expressed. The more we try to bury them, the more they claw
their way out. They scream at us from our very depths. They force
their way into our dreams, turning them into nightmares. They eat at
our subconscious, begging for release.

So, Dear Ones, what do you do with them. Do you keep them locked
inside, to drive you slowly mad, or do you confide in someone. If you
do decide to share your clandestine knowledge, whom do you tell? A
friend? A confidant? A lover?

Will the person you tell keep your secret? Remember, you told someone,
didn't you? The person you tell has no vested interest in your secret.
It isn't their secret. They will not be directly affected by the
consequences surrounding its discovery. And it will be discovered.
Make no mistake about that, Mon Petit Enfants. After all, a secret
that is known to two or more persons is no longer a secret.

So, My Little Ones, whom should you tell? I am the Nightcrawler. I
will never betray you. Never."

Nick snapped off the radio.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Schanke said.

Nick only nodded. "Now the question is what penalty will he extract."

"Don't worry, Nick. I'll be there when you talk to him. After all,
this involves me, too. I'll tell him it was all my doing. He'll
understand."

"No you won't. That's the last thing you want to do. Or it may be the
last thing you ever do. Right now he's very ticked off. He definitely
won't understand. There's no telling what he will do."

"I don't know. He sounded pretty cool just now."

"He's the consummate actor. Trust me. I've known him a lot longer than
you ever will. You don't want to tangle with him in the mood he's in.
Leave him to me. I said I'd handle him. I just didn't think it would
be this soon."

**********

He was waiting as Nick pulled into the garage. He was not a happy
vampire. He could feel the waves of anger emanating from his sire from
at least a block away. There would be no talk. Only action. Painful
action, he was certain. It would not be pleasant. It never was.

The enraged aura grew stronger as he rode the lift. His every instinct
told him to run, but he knew LaCroix well enough to know there was no
place to run to. LaCroix would find him wherever he went. Better to
get it over with. Now. Later would be that much more severe.

Even before he had the heavy door fully open, he was grabbed. His
master flung him against the door. He felt the ribs cracking and heard
rather than felt his head collide with the cold steel plate. A warm
wet liquid flowed down his back. Blood. The door handle ground itself
against the base of his spine.

"HOW did you let this happen?" LaCroix hissed. "Why did you let HIM
find out?" He viciously cuffed his son across the face. Nick felt his
jaw dislocate. Several teeth were also loosened.

"I didn't …" He said through bloody puffed lips.

"No, you DIDN'T. You NEVER do. ANYTHING. You didn't THINK. You didn't
DO. You just … " He drove his fist into the detective's midsection.
More bones broke and Nick spat blood as he doubled over.

"He ... found out … by himself." He croaked hoarsely.

LaCroix backhanded him savagely. His left cheekbone broke and the
sight in his left eye was beginning to blur.

"That is NO excuse. YOU know what was SUPPOSED to be done. You did ...
NOTHING." The elder vampire threw him hard to the floor. A snapping
sound told him that his right arm was broken.

"When will you EVER learn to do the right thing?" LaCroix hissed as he
drove his foot into the hapless vampire's kidney

"Will … you … Enforcers." He mumbled. It was difficult to think
clearly. He probably had a concussion from the blow to his head .

"No. I will NOT inform the Enforcers. This is a FAMILY matter. You
KNOW I put family above ALL ELSE. You have THREE DAYS to correct this
… situation. Or I WILL." In the next instant, he disappeared.

With great difficulty, Nick managed to get to a standing position. The
pain in his lower back was excruciating and his legs would not respond
properly. Slowly, painfully, holding on to the furniture for support,
he made his way to the refrigerator. Even though it was bovine, the
blood stored in there called to him. He had to heal. It would heal
him. Slowly, but it would have to do. It was all he had on hand. He
had given up human blood almost a century before. He took out a bottle
and uncorked it. Leaning against the counter, he gulped down the
contents in three swallows. He could feel his injuries ever so slowly
repairing themselves. He reached for another bottle.

"You do not need that … swill, Cherie." Janette said, reaching into a
large bag hanging from her arm. He had not heard her come in, but in
his present state, a freight train could have passed through the loft
and he would not have noticed it. "This is what you need." She held
out a bottle of Raven Special.

"You of all people should know that I don't drink human."

"I know you don't under normal circumstances. But this isn't normal.
You need it." She said. "He has injured you very badly. This is uncut.
It will heal you much faster than that bovine slop ever could." She
gently helped him to the table and eased him into a chair.

He took the bottle and opened it. He drank slowly this time. The human
blood sang to him in a way that the bland cow's blood never could or
would. He could tell that his body was knitting faster now. He
finished the bottle and handed it back. Janette held out another one.

"No thank you. One is enough."

She said nothing, only put it back in the bag.

"How did you know?" Nick asked.

"Oh, Nicholah, how can you possibly forget. We are bonded. Sister and
brother for all eternity … and we are so much more. Why didn't you do
what you had to do with your partner? Why must you continually anger
him so? The next time he may not be so tolerant."

"This is tolerance?" He fingered the rapidly healing bruises on his
face.

"For him ... Yes." Janette kissed him gently on the cheek. "Take care,
Mon Amour. I would hate to lose you." With a whoosh of air, she was
gone.

**********

He had called and booked off. Personal day. He gave no other
explanation. Captain Cohen was only too happy to grant it to him.
After all, she had been after him to take a little time off. His
injuries were mostly healed. The broken bones had knit, and only a few
of the worst bruises remained, but he was still in a lot of pain from
his internal injuries. He did not want to face either Schanke or Nat
right now. Nat would be mothering him constantly. Not that he would
mind the TLC, he just did not trust his fragile control around her
until he was stronger. Schanke, if he knew what had happened, would go
storming off to confront LaCroix. He would probably get himself
killed.

He sensed them long before he saw them. There was no mistaking that
forceful aura. That was all he needed right now. First LaCroix and now
this. They were two of the strongest Enforcers he had ever come
across. Between them, supported by them, was Donald Schanke. He had a
blank glassy eyed look about him and his movements were sluggish and
irregular. It was obvious that he had been placed in some kind of a
trance. That was somewhat of a blessing. At least he wouldn't suffer.
Much. It was probable that this was to be his punishment for violating
the Code. He was to watch his partner die at the hands of the
Enforcers. Before they killed him.

But how did they get here so fast? LaCroix had promised him three
days. He was capable of many things, but once he had given his word,
he would not go back on it. No one else that he knew had the kind of
influence to summon the Enforcers this quickly.

"Nicholas de Brabant." One of the Enforcers, a black man of
undeterminable age said. He was well over six feet tall and about 275-
300 pounds of lean muscle. He exuded raw power. Even if he were
mortal, Nick would not want to tangle with him. "It has come to our
attention that this mortal has discovered your secret." He tossed
Schanke to the floor like he was a rag doll.

"The Ruling Council has been keeping a close watch on you and your
associates for some time now." The other, a man of either Arabic or
Semitic descent, added. He was only slightly smaller than his
companion. Nick did not particularly want to get on his bad side
either. "We have been sent to investigate this matter and report back
to them."

Investigate … Report … Not terminate. Perhaps, just maybe, if they
were willing to listen to reason, there was a slim chance that this
could be settled without bloodshed. Either his or Schanke's.

"That's correct. Don Schanke does know about me." There was no use
trying to lie about it. They obviously already knew. "I tried, but I
could not make him forget. He has become a resistor. I did not kill
him or bring him across because I do not believe that he is a threat
to the Community. In fact, I think he could be very useful to us."

"Why should we believe that?" The Black Enforcer asked.

"I trust him implicitly. He has given his word, and I believe him. He
has also volunteered to be the eyes and ears of the Community in
places where we cannot go. Such as into the daytime sun. He is also my
partner. Partners have to trust each other. That trust could be the
difference between life and death during a shootout or in dangerous
situations. If you have questioned him, then you know that he is an
honorable man. He would not go back on his word. I will take full
responsibility for him. If he should break the Code, I will see to it
that he is properly punished."

"Make us believe you." The Middle Eastern Enforcer said.

Nick unbuttoned his cuff and held his wrist to the Enforcer.

The man took it. Nick winced as he rather forcefully sank his fangs
into the tender flesh. He suckled the blood as it welled to the
surface. Then he handed Nick's arm to his companion who did the same.
This done, they withdrew to the far side of the loft. There they held
a hushed conference. Even with his enhanced hearing, Nick could not
tell what they were saying. He wasn't sure that he really wanted to,
either. Finally, they returned to him.

"We have questioned this mortal earlier." The black one said. Nick
studied his partner. Sure enough there were two tiny, nearly healed
puncture marks at the base of his neck. "From what we learned from him
and what we have learned from your blood, we believe what you have
said is true. We will be watching this situation closely. See to it
that you keep what you have promised."

In less than a blink of an eye, they were gone.

In another instant, Nick was at his partner's side. He cradled his
head in his hands.

Slowly, groggily, he opened his eyes and sluggishly shook his head.
"Oh Man-o-man. What a dream I just had ..." He looked around, puzzled.
"WAIT A MINUTE! What am I doing in your loft? The last thing I
remember I was lying on the couch waiting for Myra to come home from
one of her Skin Pretty Home Party demonstrations. I must have fallen
asleep because I had this weird dream where these two guys came in and
they ... "

"Schanke. It wasn't a dream."

**********

Schanke slammed the folder on his desk. "This case is getting weirder
and weirder by the minute." He fumed. "There's got to be a tie. But
where?"

"Let's review what we have." Nick said.

We have nada." They obviously aren't the same race. Religion is out,
too. Julia Mercer was a Catholic. Michelle Prater, Baptist, and
Delores Shiningmoon no particular religion. They didn't live in the
same neighborhood. They didn't have any friends in common that we can
find. Hell, they didn't even eat at the same fast food joints.

"What about ancillary items?"

"Like?"

"Pets maybe? "

Schanke shook his head. He pulled out his notebook and leafed through
it. "Thought of that already. Julia Mercer had two dogs. Prater had a
parakeet and Delores Shiningmoon, none. Apparently she was allergic to
animal fur.

"Cars?" "Grocery stores?" " I'll even take makeup" "There's got to be
something."

At each, Schanke shook his head no.

"How would you guys like a hook." Natalie came up behind them and laid
a paper on the desk.

"You got a clue?" Schanke grabbed her and planted a wet sloppy kiss on
her forehead. "Natalie Lambert, I love you. If I weren't a happily
married man, I'd marry you. Then again, maybe I should leave that to
my partner … Oh no." He said, blushing. "I forgot about … that. I'm
sorry."

"It's okay." Nat said. "We understand."

A look of great sadness and pain came over Nick. "Yeah … we
understand." Then, as his happy mask locked into place, he continued.
"So, Nat, what's this clue that you've got."

"Well, it may not be much. I didn't even catch it until I started
brainstorming with Grace, much like you two are doing now."

"AND … " They both said in unison.

"And I remembered that Julia Mercer had traces of recombinant human
insulin in her blood stream. It didn't mean anything at the time. Then
I found the same thing in Delores Shiningmoon. Since Dr. Kerstein did
the autopsy on Julia Mercer on day shift, I went over his notes this
evening. Guess what. She had it too."

"Isn't insulin supposed to be in the blood?"

"Recombinant human insulin is the generic term for insulin
manufactured outside the body. It's either cultured or refined from
sheep insulin. It is the treatment of choice for Type II diabetics.
It's most commonly prescribed under the brand name U-100."

"Then all we have to do is find out where they might have gotten the
insulin and who has a common thread with them. We would have to get
the names of every one who got a prescription for U-100 in the last
several months." Schanke said.

"As I said before, it's the drug of choice. There's probably 500-600
prescriptions filled each month, and that's just in Toronto proper."
Nat reminded them.

"I know it's like finding a needle in a haystack, but we could check
out doctors and clinics, Pharmacies, support groups." Nick added. "If
we can find one that involves all the victims and the same man, we
just might have our killer. We've solved other cases with less than
this. We can solve this one. I'll talk to Cohen and see if we can't
spread this out to all the precincts. Schanke, you can coordinate
things with days."

"Why me? Why can't you?"

Nick let his fangs drop and his eyes yellow for a few seconds.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Your ... ah ... sun allergy."

**********

As Schanke left the drugstore, he put a checkmark beside the name. <
Seven down and only thirteen more to go. >

If the rest of them were like the ones he had already visited, he'd
have five to six hundred names all by himself. Unfortunately, there
was still no tie in with the victims. If the other cops on the detail
did as well as he had, it would take well into the next year just to
check all the names out. < Why does my dear …partner have all the
luck. He gets out of these things because he has this supposed
allergy. Just once, I'd like to see him do some of the sniffing for a
change. > He climbed into his car and started it. "Maybe I'll just
kill him." He mumbled as he put it into gear. < But then again, he's
already dead. >

He heaved a sigh and headed toward the next name on his list. If only
his partner could go out in the sun. He toyed with the idea of
dragging him out anyway.

**********

Schanke plopped into his chair. A week of flatfooting around town by a
score of officers had turned up a blank wall. He hoped his partner
would be suitably appreciative. Like working for him next Saturday so
he could go to Jenny's piano recital.

"Any luck?" Nick asked, although from the look on Don's face it was
clear that any luck was the negative kind.

"Do you know how many pharmacies there are in Toronto? Be sure to
include the ones that are inside supermarkets and department stores."
Schanke said dejectedly. "You don't want to know. We hit every one of
them and nada. Well, not exactly nada. Phil Sheridan over at Castle
Frank did find one that had filled a prescription for U-100 for
Michelle Prater. But that was over six months ago. They didn't have
either of the other two on their database. We did get a doctor's name,
though."

"Did you check it out?"

"Waddya think I am? A complete dodo." Schanke said, his face reddening
slightly. "Of course I checked it out. He doesn't have any idea where
she got her medications from. And no, Mercer and Shiningmoon aren't
patients of his either. I asked."

"You don't have to get hostile about it." Nick said softly.

"I'm sorry. It's just that this whole case has me buffaloed. I guess
part of it is because Myra's cousin Thelma is a diabetic. I keep
thinking what if she's next."

"Why don't we go and talk to Lionel Mercer, Julia's husband. Now that
we have this new bit of information, maybe he might be able to help
us."

**********

Lionel Mercer showed them into the living room. It was a comfortably
furnished house in a definite middle class neighborhood. "You'll have
to excuse the place. Since Julie ... " He wiped a small tear from his
eye. "Well, the boys and I aren't exactly into cleaning up after
ourselves." He said as he moved a stack of newspapers from the seat of
the couch and took a seat in a slipcovered easy chair across from the
detectives. "I know you guys are working hard on this case, and I'll
be glad to assist you in any way. I'll do anything I can to help you
catch whoever did this to ... " He let out a heavy sigh.

"We understand. We need to know where your wife got her diabetic
supplies." Schanke said.

"I really don't know offhand. She usually handled all the bills and
stuff like that. I'm not the most organized man in the world. Just a
minute. Let me go and check through her files." He went to the
computer sitting in a corner of the room. After several tries, he
managed to get it started. "As I said before, I'm not very organized.
This is ... this was … Julie's domain. After several false starts, he
managed to find their bank program. It took him another fifteen
minutes of trial and error until he accessed the checquing account
statement for the last month. He scrolled down. "Ah. yes." He said
with some pride. "Here it is. A checque to Global Prescriptions.
That's the company."

Schanke took out his notebook and thumbed through it. Global
Prescriptions wasn't on the list of pharmacies. "I don't recognize the
name. Is it an out of town drugstore?"

"No. Not exactly. It's one of those electronic things. They're located
in Ottowa if I remember right. Julie would E-mail them whenever she
needed anything. They'd deliver it to her and they'd do all the
insurance paperwork for her. And at about half of what the pharmacies
charge. All she had to pay for was her subscription fee of fifty
dollars a year. She just renewed it last month. That's why the checque
is still listed in the account. Best thing she ever did, too."

"How long has she been doing this?" Nick asked.

"About three years or so. Saw the ad in one of those tabloids. At
first I thought it was one of those fly-by-night schemes, but it's
totally legit. I checked it out with the Better Business Bureau before
I let her even think about going with them. I forgot she was still
using them."

**********

Emily Johannson, Michelle Prater's roommate showed the detectives into
the tiny apartment they rented on campus. It was a typical college
student's dwelling, furnished in early Salvation Army and leftovers.
Milk crates, serving as end tables, were stacked beside the
dilapidated couch that had probably been scrounged from someone's
leavings. A cinder block and board bookcase held the latest state of
the art entertainment system, though.

"I'm going to miss her. " Emily said. "Mickie was a great roomie, and
as long as she watched herself, she could party with the best of us.
You do know that she was a diabetic, don't you? She was one of those
who had to shoot herself regularly. Always said that she could get
away with doing drugs legally."

"Yes. We know she had diabetes. In fact that's why we're here."
Schanke said. Nick was letting him take the lead in this
investigation. "Do you happen to know where she got her supplies?"

"I think she used one of those online places. With her busy schedule …
she was a double major, Physics and Chem … she claimed that she didn't
have time to go out and wait in line every month to get her fix, as
she called it. Also they saved her a bundle. That's important on a
student's budget."

"Was it Global Prescriptions, by any chance?"

Emily shrugged, "I haven't the foggiest idea. I can check, though".
She went to the bookcase and returned with a laptop. I haven't got
around to removing Mickie's data from this. Maybe because as long as
it's still here, she's still here ... sorta."

In a matter of seconds, she had pulled up the correct files. "No, she
used one called Drug Mart Online. According to this, they're home
office is in Montreal." Emily clicked a few icons and a printer on the
bookcase clattered to life. A moment later, Emily handed the
detectives a printout of the information.

"You wouldn't happen to know the name of her doctor, would you?"

"She used the clinic at UT. Saw a different one each time. Because she
was a college student, her visits were practically free."

**********

Schanke pulled the barrier tape from Delores Shiningmoon's apartment.
Since she lived alone and as far as they could find, she had no living
relatives, no one except the police had been in there since she died.
It was in one of the more recently constructed fashionable complexes
in the most desirable part of town. The manager had protested loudly
when they had erected the flimsy plastic restraint across Miss
Shiningmoon's door, claiming that it would do irreparable harm to the
complex's reputation and threatening to sue. The tape went up anyway.

The inside looked as if it had been plucked from the pages of one of
those high society furniture magazines. Everything was new or nearly
so, and looked as if it had cost more that either Schanke or Nick
could afford on their police salaries combined. Then of course,
according to her employer representative, Devon Artimas, the head of
Human Resources at Gilliespie, Martinique, VanHoose and Faulks,
Delores Shiningmoon was one of the so called wunderkind in the legal
field. Her paycheck was in the five figures a month range. She could
easily afford this.

It did not take much searching to locate her computer, a state of the
art high end custom designed model. "Wow. I bet this thing cost more
than the National Debt." Schanke exclaimed as Nick sat down at it.

"You're probably right." Nick said as he booted it up. It took a few
tries to get past her password encryption. Nick said a silent prayer
of thanks that he had watched Larry Merlin and Aristotle hack into so
many computer systems.

Like the others, Delores used an online system for her supplies.
Unlike the others, She used a service called WorldWideChem, and it
operated out of Los Angeles in the states.

**********

Lucien LaCroix sat at his usual spot at the Raven. Here he held court
nightly. As the elder vampire in the area, it was one of his
responsibilities to mediate and adjudicate problems in the Community.
He prided himself on being extremely qualified for the post. After
all, he had almost two thousand years of experience. In that time, he
had seen and / or done nearly everything there was to do. He took his
duties seriously. For a price, of course. This gave him an unlimited
pool of people who were in his debt. It also provided a never ending
inventory of subjects for his Nightcrawler monologues.

He sensed a subtle change come over the crowd, both mortal and
immortal alike. The jovial atmosphere that had pervaded the place was
rapidly being replaced with one of trepidation and awe. Mixed with a
dose of not-quite-fear. Even his own senses were tingling with
uneasiness. Then he saw the reason. The crowd, both mortal and
immortal, respectfully parted as a vampire made his way through the
club. Not just any vampire. Etrian. The head of the Ruling Council. He
looked to be in his early fifties, but LaCroix knew better. He was
almost as old as time itself. He was an Ancient. Some even said that
he was one of the Firsts. He was accompanied by two powerful
bodyguards, a huge black man and one of Middle Eastern ancestry.

What was he doing here in Toronto? He knew that the Enforcers would
eventually get around to investigating the activities of his wayward
son. That was one of the reasons he had not made good on his threat to
take care of Nicholas's mortal partner. He would let the Enforcers do
the dirty work. That way, his hands would be clean and his son could
not blame him for anything. Not directly, that is. But an Ancient? And
here at the Raven?

"Welcome, my Lord Etrian." He took Etrian's outstretched hand and
kissed the ruby and onyx ring. "May I inquire what brings you here?"

"Not out here, Lucius." Etrian motioned toward the Raven's private
quarters. "We will talk privately."

**********

Etrian accepted the crystal goblet from LaCroix as he settled into the
leather executive chair in the Raven's office. The drink was from the
elder vampire's private stock, a rare vintage that was not available
for public consumption. Even LaCroix only partook of it on very
special occasions. This was definitely one of those times.

"It has come to my attention that Nicholas de Brabant has allowed
certain mortals to gain access to his secret." He began. "He is your
creation. What do you intend to do about it?"


LaCroix swallowed, and for the briefest of moments, his stoic mask
cracked. Only for a moment, though. "I have had a ... talk with my
son. He has assured me that things will be taken care of. If he does
not do what is required, then I shall step in and I will see that the
matter is settled."

"I know of your talks, Lucius. They tend to be a little ... how can I
put it ... aggressive. On several occasions, you have ... talked to
... your son until he was near death."

"They are most effective. Whatever the method I use, he does comply
with my wishes."

"Perhaps." The Ancient took another sip of his drink. "An excellent
blend." He remarked. "I have never tasted anything this good from a
bottle."

"If you like it, perhaps I can arrange for a case to be delivered to
you."

"That is most kind." He hesitated a moment. "Now back to the matter at
hand. It concerns the mortals who know our secret. The Council has
been keeping an eye on your son and his mortal companions. I have
every reason to believe that Detective Schanke may be invaluable to
the Community. In much the same way that Dr. Lambert serves us. I
would be ever so ... disappointed ... if anything ... unfortunate ...
should befall either one of them." He smiled, softly, malevolently. "I
do hope I have made myself clear."

LaCroix nodded imperceptibly. The Ancient was VERY clear. Nick and his
friends were off limits. If anyone thought LaCroix was tough with his
punishments, he was only small potatoes when compared with Etrian.

Etrian stood up and held out his hand to LaCroix once more. Again he
kissed the Ancient's ring. In a split second, the Ancient was gone.

**********

"Well, that was a waste of time." Schanke said. "We spent all night
going over the facts and we're no further along than when we started.
We know they all used the Internet to get their U-100, but each one
used a different service. Still no connection. We're right back to
square one."

"Not exactly square one. Maybe square two." Nat said. She had stopped
to drop off some files about a case to Coplas and Davis. By some
strange twist of fate, she somehow found herself at the desk of a
certain blond detective and his partner. "At least we have a starting
point."

"But where is it that we're starting from?" Schanke asked.

"The beginning." Nick said. "We contact these companies and see if
they have anything in common. Who knows, we may get lucky."

"And that's your job." Schanke said, pushing the papers with the
information about the online companies at Nick. "After all, you don't
have to go outside to operate a computer. And since you just
volunteered to cover for me for tomorrow, I'll be at a piano recital.
See you guys later. Hasta la bye bye." He walked toward the door. "
... And that's when I'll discover that revenge is sweet ... " He sang
softly. As he pulled it open, he did a small victory dance.

**********

Angie Grocemann took the package from the driver. This was so much
easier than going to the pharmacist. Ever since she had heard that
Freedom Online Pharmaceuticals would deliver her diabetic supplies
right to her door, she had subscribed with them. They billed her
insurance and even paid the shipping and handling fees. All she had to
do was tell them, either by phone or online, when she was running low
and EPS delivered the things she needed within three days.

The driver copied the name and address from his copy of the invoice.
This one would bear watching.

**********

"Detective. Over here." The officer called to Schanke. He had been
dispatched to the lakefront to investigate a report of a drowning
victim that had washed up on shore. Although his part of the shift had
already begun, there was still several hours of daylight, and Nick
would not be reporting in until the sun had set. So he had to answer
this one by himself. At least until his partner came on duty. The
rescue team had just finished preparing the body for examination by
the coroner.

Schanke bent to examine the body. When he got to the head, he stopped
and drew in a sharp breath. There, at the base of the neck, were two
almost invisible puncture wounds. It was no accident. He was the
victim of a vampire. The detective looked around to see if anyone was
nearby. No one was. He took a small piece of driftwood and, shielding
the body with his own, he ran it several times across the man's neck.
Because of the delicate condition of the skin, it tore easily. He
stood up and looked at the man's neck again. Unless anyone knew what
to look for, it appeared that he had been caught on a piece of
driftwood.

Dr. John Kerstein carefully examined the corpse. Schanke
surreptitiously watched him to see if he had caught what the detective
had done. As near as he could tell, he had not. "So far, it's a John
Doe." Dr. Kerstein said. Since the body was discovered on days, he was
the coroner of record. "From what I can tell, he's about 45 - 50, 5
feet 9 and possibly 175 pounds or so. His clothes seem to be Open
Shelter issue. Probably homeless. If that's the case, we may never get
an ID. The body hasn't been in the water that long, though. Two or
three days at the most. Only a slight bloating and minimal
decomposition. It appears it was an accident. I'll get you the
particulars after the autopsy, but it looks like a cut and dried ...
well not so dry ... case." The portly doctor laughed at the pun.

**********

"Look, Nick, why do I have to wait out here in the car. I mean, it's
not like I don't know about vampires."

"I've told you before, Skank. The less you know about vampires, the
better. It's bad enough you know about me. The Raven isn't a nice
place to be under any circumstances. Especially now that you know
about the 'customers'. There's quite a few who don't like the thought
of anyone knowing about them. For any reason. And they wouldn't have
any qualms about killing you or making you a permanent member of the
night shift. And they wouldn't be too gentle about either. Don't argue
with me. Just stay put. I have to talk with LaCroix about some
business."

"You mean about that guy that floated in on the tide? The one with the
two tiny holes in his neck. I thought I had covered that up pretty
good. That's what I mean about being the eyes and ears of the
Community. If I had waited until you were able to make it to the
scene, someone might have discovered the truth. I managed to make it
look like he had caught his neck on some driftwood"

"And you did a great job of it, too. I doubt if Kerstein will even
notice. But there's still the matter of taking care of the vampire
responsible for it. That person has broken the Code by disposing of
the body in such a sloppy manner."

"What'll happen to him ... or her?"

"That's not up to me. That's up to the Elders and the vampire in
question's master."

LaCroix motioned to his son as he entered the club. "Do come in,
Nicholas. Is this business or pleasure?" He handed him a glass. It
contained human blood.

Nick pushed it away. "Business."

"And where is that charming partner of yours. I understand that he is
still among the day shift. I thought you had taken care of that little
bit of ... business."

"For your information, I had a visit from the Enforcers. They have
investigated the matter and have decided to let him live with the
knowledge. I have personally guaranteed his behavior."

"YOU!" LaCroix sniggered. "YOU guaranteed him? You can't even
guarantee your own behavior. If you knew the number of times I have
had to pull your neck out of the Enforcer's clutches ... And YOU
guarantee him?"

"It doesn't matter. Schanke isn't going to do anything to jeopardize
the Community."

"And how do you know this?"

"Because I told him so." Schanke said as he stepped beside his
partner.

"SCHANKE!" Nick nearly shouted. "I TOLD you to wait outside!"

"Oh, come now, Nicholas. Do not be such a spoil sport." LaCroix
chided. "If Detective Schanke is ... dying … to come in and meet the
Community, then let him. We shall do everything in our power to ...
accommodate him." He put his arm around the detective. Schanke felt
the chills run up and down his spine.

"Okay." Nick finally said. "You can stay. But don't go wandering off
on your own."

"Poor Nicholas." LaCroix said barely above a whisper. "Perhaps now you
will appreciate the burden of responsibility for another's actions. I
have tried to tell you that it is an overwhelming thing. Maybe you
will understand what I have gone through with you."

"I didn't come here for a lecture. I came here to inform you that one
of the vampires has been getting sloppy. A kill washed up on the beach
yesterday afternoon."

"I assume you handled it in your inimitable manner."

"Actually, Schanke took care of it, since I couldn't go out in the
sun. I told you he could be of use to the Community."

"Very good, Detective." LaCroix said, patting him on the head like a
puppy.

Schanke rolled his eyes. < If he wasn't such a powerful bastard, I'd
stake the SOB where he stands. > He thought darkly.

"Yes, Detective. Very good work indeed." It was the Black Enforcer.
The other one was right behind him. No one had seen them until that
moment. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere. "You handled
the situation in a very professional manner."

"You mean you were watching me?" Schanke said, bewildered.

"Not us personally, but some of our … contacts were. You see
Detective, you and Dr. Lambert are not the only mortals that know of
our existence. We wanted to see if you were sincere in your pledge to
watch out for the welfare of the Community. It seems that you are."

"Are you saying this was some kind of a test?" Nick said.

"Yes."

"You murdered a man just so you could determine my loyalty?" Schanke
added. "That's sick!"

"Not exactly." The Black man said. "What you do not know is that the
man was suffering from terminal Cystic Fibrosis. If left untreated, it
causes the lungs to fill with water and mucus. He was literally
drowning in his own fluids. He would have been dead in a few weeks. We
just … hastened the inevitable. Do not be concerned, Detective. Thanks
to you, everyone will be convinced that he did indeed accidentally
drown."

"We will report this to our superiors." The Middle Eastern vampire
said. "You will have nothing more to fear from the Community." He was
looking directly at LaCroix. "You are under the protection of Etrian."

**********

"Who the hell is Etrian?" Schanke asked as they drove back to the
station. "And why did everyone in the place bow at his name. Is he
some sort of vampire god?"

"In a manner of speaking. He's the head of the Ruling Council. He is
undoubtedly the most powerful vampire on earth today. And one of the
oldest. He's rumored to be one of the Firsts. To be under his
protection is a very high honor."

"In that case, I'm impressed." Schanke said, blushing slightly.
"Speaking of cases, what have you found out about the Online
companies."

"I'll give you a complete rundown tomorrow. It's almost the end of
your shift. Why don't you just go home and cuddle with Myra for the
rest of the night."

"Partner. I like the way you think."

**********

"Well?" Schanke said as he slid into his desk. "Have you got this case
all tied up in a neat little bow?"

Nick only shook his head slowly. "If anything, I hit more walls than
doors. I contacted the companies that the victims used as well as
several others listed on the web. It turns out that U-100 is sort of
an umbrella name for recombinant human insulin. Several different
companies manufacture it. Most of the services I talked to don't store
U-100 or any other drug products. They merely forward the orders
directly to one of several central warehouses. They are the one's that
actually ship the drugs under the service company's logo. It's called
drop shipping. Maybe I'm chasing straws, but could it be possible that
they all use the same warehouse.

"Well, keep digging. I've got a date with my dentist. My annual
checkup is way overdue. See you later."

**********

"More dead ends." Nick grumbled as he put the phone back. "And no
closer to a lead. I called them back and guess what? All of the online
companies use a different warehouse. Why don't you take the next leg
and contact the warehouses and see of there is any common thread
there?" He handed the notes to Schanke.

"Because you're so good at it." Schanke said, handing the notes back
to Nick.

Captain Amanda Cohen came over to their desks. "I have some bad news.
There's been another one. Report to the scene at the pond in Gladhurst
Park." She handed them a crime report. "And gentlemen. Everyone from
the mayor on down is chomping on my tiny little butt to get this case
solved. Find this creep. Find him now. Yesterday even. I want this to
be the last crime report I see. Got that?"

**********

They arrived just as the Rescue Squad was bringing the body out of the
water. Natalie examined it briefly before the technicians zipped it
into a body bag. She turned to the two detectives. She opened a soggy
wallet and read from the Drivers License. "Name's Angela Prater. Age
28. Lives in Forest Point. Been dead for about six hours. Those people
discovered the body. She pointed to a couple huddled with one of the
uniformed officers.

"And you're sure it's one of the Insulin slayings?"

"See for yourself." She unzipped the bag. Her face and chest were
criss crossed with slice marks and bruises. "From the evidence I'd
have to say that most of those were inflicted while she was still
alive. There's more." She pulled the zipper further down. It was
obvious that she was pregnant. "Looks like she just entered second
trimester." Nat added. "Again, I'll have more after the autopsy."

Schanke turned away, and from the look on his face, Nick thought that
he might lose the contents of his stomach. To tell the truth, he did
not feel too stable himself. "How'd she get in the water?" Nick asked
pushing the nausea back to its place in his stomach. It wouldn't do
for him to get sick. There'd be too many questions as to why he was
vomiting blood.

"She was dumped there. The people saw it, but they weren't close
enough to get a look at whoever did it. All they know for certain was
that it was a man driving a light blue pickup truck. And like Delores
Shiningmoon, there's every reason to believe she was still alive when
she went in. There appears to be a goodly amount of water in her lungs
and stomach.

Visions of the body at the beach ran through Schanke's mind. < Could
all of these killings be the work of vampires? > He shook his head. <
Was he seeing vampires everywhere? > "Nah." He mumbled.

**********

According to her neighbors, Angie Grocemann was divorced. The mother
of a three year old daughter. She was engaged to a Martin Weber, who
was presently serving his summer hitch in the Royal Marine Reserves.
They were to have been married in three weeks.

A search of the Grocemann home, a small cookie cutter type structure
in a post war subdivision, turned up nothing of relative value.
According to her Computer files, she also used an Internet service for
her diabetic supplies. This one was Freedom Online Pharmaceuticals.
One thing that they did find was a copy of an invoice from Freedom
dated two weeks ago. It showed that the medications had been delivered
by Express Parcel Services.

Maybe that would be the key. Nick certainly hoped so. Based on what he
had seen so far, he shuddered to think what tortures the next victim
might be put through. He'd have to make sure that there wasn't a next
victim.

**********

"Partner." Schanke said as Nick walked into the precinct. "I LOVE
you." He grabbed the perplexed vampire and planted a loud kiss on his
cheek. "You were right on the button. All of the warehouses use
Express Parcel Service for their deliveries in this area. Now all you
have to do is contact Express Parcel and see if there is some kind of
a tie there."

"Schanke. Why me." Nick said as he took the folder and began to leaf
through it.

"Call it penance for you sins. You did tell me you were trying to
atone for them, didn't you?" A large grin spread across his face.
"Besides, Skin Pretty has an awards dinner for their sales staff and
their families tonight. Myra is getting a plaque for the area top
sales person. I told Cohen you'd be thrilled to cover for me. I
wouldn't miss it for all the world."

"You're playing this to the hilt, aren't you?"

"For all it's worth, Partner. For all it's worth." He patted him on
the back as he headed for the door.

Nick looked around. No one was watching. For an instant, he let his
eyes go gold and his fangs drop. "H-S-S-T!" He hissed at his partner.

**********

"Well, Am I seeing things, or is that the famous Detective Nicholas
Brabant Knight actually doing paperwork."

Nick looked up to see Nat standing over him. "Don't ask dumb
questions. Schanke had an awards dinner tonight with Myra and he
volunteered me to cover for him."

"In that case, maybe it's a good thing I came over. Since you
probability won't have an opportunity to go to lunch, I've brought
lunch to you." She put a large plastic container on the desk.

Nick opened it and grimaced. "You really shouldn't have."

"This one is different. After that little ... discussion we had about
the effectiveness of these things, I've prepared a whole new formula.
Much closer to blood. At least try it before you reject it."

Nick studied it. It was dark maroon colored, almost blood like. He
took a sniff. While it didn't smell like blood, at least it didn't
smell as bad as some of the others. Slowly, he brought it to his lips
and took a hesitant sip. It did taste a little like blood. Only a
little. The rest of the flavor was a mix of chalk and diluted library
paste. Cautiously, he swallowed. There was only a slight gag reflex as
the thick liquid made its way to his stomach. Maybe ... just maybe,
this one might stay down.

"Well ... "

"Well, so far so good. Ask me in a half hour. If you don't see me
heading for the mens room in that time, you may be on to something."

"So, what have you found out on the Insulin Killings"

"Nothing of substance. I was just on my way to Express Parcel to talk
with their dispatcher. He comes on at six. Since it's almost that now,
I should be able to catch him. Want to come with me? That way, if I do
bring this ... concoction up, you will get a first hand chance to
examine it for clues to make the next one ... " He made an exaggerated
grimace. " … A lot better."

"Now how could I resist an invitation like that? Considering that this
is the end of my shift, Why not? Just give me time to book off."

**********

The dispatcher thumbed through a sheaf of logs. "Oh yes, here it is.
Angie Grocemann. Delivery from Freedom Pharmaceuticals. Last Tuesday.
That would be route 39. Elwood Perkins is the assigned driver on that
one." He wrote the name and address on a piece of paper and handed it
to the detective. "He's a good man. Kinda weird, maybe, but a hard
worker just the same. I hope he isn't in any trouble."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"Well, he's a real loner, if you know what I mean. He don't hang out
with any of the other drivers. I mean, he comes in. Does his run. And
goes home. He ain't never come to any of the company things, like
picnics or parties. Ain't ever gone to any of the other guy's houses,
either. And nobody has ever been to his place. I heard a rumor that
his wife is real sick, but he never talks about his private life. Not
that he talks with any of us that much anyway."

"We just want to talk with him. How about the other names? Any of them
on Route 39?"

The dispatcher leafed through the delivery invoices once again. "Nope.
Nothing recent. Maybe there's something on the database. Only thing
is, I can't get to it until eight o'clock. That's when they fire up
the mainframe. Sorry about that. I have your card. I'll fax the info
to you."

**********

"Now where?" Nat said as they walked back to the car.

"Since that shake seems to be staying down pretty well, not even a
little queasiness, how about something to eat. There's an all night
restaurant near here. I'll even try to force down a hash brown or two.
Just to show you how dedicated I am. By the way, what was in that last
shake? It wasn't half bad. Of course, you know that means it wasn't
half good either."

"Mother Lambert's secret recipe. Tell you what. If you manage to keep
a few more of them down, I'll think about telling you."

"With encouragement like that, How can I not try. I'll make a real
effort." He reached down and kissed her on the cheek. Nat noted that
it was a lot more than platonic.

**********

Don Schanke padded back to the house. His bare feet were wet from the
nighttime grass. How could he have forgotten to put out the trash for
collection day? Oh well, it was out now. Now he was going to go back
to bed. Why didn't Myra tell him when they first got home instead of
waiting until he was in his pajamas and ready for bed? Women! As long
as he and Myra had been married, he never did understand her. He
doubted he ever would. It wasn't important. He loved her. That was
what was important.

He sensed them rather than heard them. They were not Enforcers, at
least he didn't think they were. But they were vampires, of that much
he was sure. Suddenly, he was no longer on the ground. One of the
vampires had him by the waist and they were soaring through the night
air. If he hadn't been so scared, he would have found the experience
thrilling. Then, as quickly as it had begun, they were in an alley in
the warehouse district. Schanke made a mental note that they weren't
that far from Nick's place.

"Mortal!" One of them hissed in his face. As near as he could tell,
there were only two of them. If they were mortal, and if Schanke were
ten years younger and thirty pounds lighter, the odds would be just
about right. But they weren't and he wasn't.

"You have violated the prime commandment of our Code. The penalty for
that is death." The vampire said.

"You can't do anything to me." Schanke said in a high tenor. He tried
to sound cool and authoritative, but he could tell that the fear he
was experiencing was coming through full force. "I'm under the
protection of Etrian."

"Etrian!" The first vampire, obviously the leader, spat on the ground.
"Etrian is nothing more than a doddering old fool! A decade ago he
would have had you killed and then he would have had that sniveling de
Brabant killed as well. Now, not only does he let you both live, he
has placed you under his protection." He spat again. "It is up to us
who believe in the purity of the Code to see that its commandments are
carried out."

The other vampire grabbed Schanke by the neck and hoisted him into the
air. He bared his fangs and Don could see that his eyes were
fluorescent yellow. He hissed loudly. He pulled Schanke's neck to the
side. Just as he was about to make contact, he stopped. "I have a
better idea." The second vampire said. At the look from the other one.
"Let's take this one to the Raven. After all, LaCroix is the elder of
this Community. I have run across his brand of justice on several
occasions. I sincerely doubt he is too thrilled with Etrian usurping
his authority. Particularly when it comes to that whelp of his. Let
him handle the mortal. That way, our hands are clean."

"Malcolm." The first one said with a smile. "You have a truly devious
and crafty mind."

"Thank you, Adrian." The other said, bowing low.

**********

Lucien LaCroix headed for the rear of the Raven and his third floor
apartment. Janette's rooms were on the second floor. He could have
taken them, but the third floor quarters were much more spacious. They
were also closer to the roof and that afforded easy entrance and exit.
As he approached the rear of the tavern, he became aware that someone
was waiting in the storage area. The vibes he was getting were hostile
at best. Instantly, he shifted into defensive mode. His eyes went gold
and the fangs came down. Cautiously, he approached the door. With one
fluid motion, he flung it open and grabbed the figure behind it.

Janette screamed and her fangs dropped as well.

"What are you doing here?" LaCroix said as he released his 'daughter'.

"I was coming up from checking on those in the basement rooms. I felt
someone in the hall and I thought I'd ... What were you doing here?"

"You mean you couldn't tell it was me?"

"There were several vibrations. I couldn't tell whose they were. All I
knew was that they weren't friendly. Who is with you?"

"No one." He pointed to another storeroom. < That means there are more
... And they are in there. >

As quietly as possible, the two crept toward the door. They stretched
their senses as far as possible to discern who was on the other side
of the door. < As best as I can tell, there are two of them ... And
one mortal. > LaCroix sent.

< Should we call for Nicholah? >

< Why? The day I cannot handle a few upstarts and a puny mortal is the
day I shall walk into the sun. >

They positioned themselves on either side of the door. < On the count
of three ... One ... Two ... >

< Three. > He flung open the door to be greeted by three vampires. One
cowered before the sight of LaCroix and Janette in full vampire mode.
The other, Adrian, did not seem to be affected. He stood straight and
menacing before the two elder vampires. He held a mortal in his grip.

LaCoix recognized the man as Don Schanke, Nicholas's partner. "Why are
you here?" He demanded of the vampires, his fangs and eyes still
feral.

"We bring you this one. He has violated the Code. We expect you to do
what is right." Adrian said haughtily.

"You do know that he is under the protection of Etrian?" Janette
asked. Her eyes were rimmed in gold and her fangs protruded as well.

"Since when does the great Roman General permit outside interference
in his domain?" The vampire charged.

"Since I do not tolerate threats from an insolent whelp such as you."
The ancient Roman hissed. "Release him and leave. If you do so
immediately, I may not be too harsh on you."

"And if I don't?"

LaCroix was behind him in an instant. "Then I shall start with the
hand that holds the mortal. And I shall finish with my fangs in your
neck. What happens in between shall not be pleasant. I can guarantee
you that." He whispered sinisterly.

Adrian gasped. The other vampire started backing toward the far wall.

"Now. Release him." LaCroix ordered.

Slowly, Adrian released the quaking mortal. Cautiously, he started
after his companion. LaCroix's backhand flung him against the wall
much sooner than he expected. He felt several of his ribs snap and at
least one of them ruptured his lung. He spit frothy blood.

Janette picked up the other and tossed him into his companion. Adrian
groaned in pain as his body landed on his battered chest.

"And that is just to remind you of things to come if you continue to
annoy me." He pointed to Schanke. "I will tend to him. He is under the
protection of my son as well as Etrian's. That means he is under MY
protection also." He picked Adrian off the floor and roughly led him
to the rear entrance of the Raven. Janette followed with the other
one. "I would suggest you leave Toronto by tomorrow night." He said as
he deposited the hapless vampire in the dumpster. It was more than a
suggestion.

**********

As for you, Mr. Schanke." LaCroix said as he deposited the bewildered
detective back on his lawn. "I suggest you go to bed." He homed in on
the detective's heart. It was beating wildly. "This has been another
nightmare."

"Bed ... Nightmare ... " Schanke repeated as he headed for the porch.
"Man o man, I gotta quit eating souvlaki before I turn in."

**********

Nick stared at the paper in his hand. Some minor god must have taken a
liking to him. Two of the names on the list were on Route 39.
Grocemann and Mercer. They each had deliveries from the pharmaceutical
houses about a week before their deaths. The other two, Prater and
Shiningmoon were both on Route 56. According to the dispatcher, Elwood
Perkins was covering that route at the time of the victim's deaths.
They, too were killed within a week of receiving an insulin delivery.

Nick gave a slight grin. "YESS!" He said under his breath.

**********

Elwood Perkins pulled the last package out of his van and put it in
the bin for redelivery. This day's run had been exceptionally long,
and it was almost dark. He was eager to turn in his paperwork and head
for home. Louise would be waiting. She always was. Of course, she
really couldn't do anything else, could she?

**********

Detectives Knight and Schanke sat in the Caddy parked opposite the
address that the dispatcher had given them. It was a row house in a
post war working class neighborhood. It had recently received a fresh
coat of paint and the postage stamp lawn was well manicured. Flower
boxes adorned every window. An eclectic set of wicker furniture graced
the small porch. Very comfortable and homey. Hardly the type to be
owned by a manic serial killer. A light blue pickup pulled up and a
man matching the description of Elwood Perkins got out. They waited
until he had time to get settled and then went to the door. Elwood
opened it a crack.

"Elwood Perkins?"

"Yes."

"Metro Police." Schanke said, putting his badge into the opening.

"Look, if it's about the ticket, the cheque is in the mail." Elwood
tried to close the door, but Nick's foot was in the way.

"It's not about the ticket, sir. My name is Detective Knight, and this
is my partner, Detective Schanke. We'd just like to ask you a few
questions." Nick said.

"I'm sorry. I can't talk right now. I just got home and my wife is
waiting for me. Come back tomorrow and I'll answer anything you want
to know." Once more he tried to shut the door, but this time, Nick
pulled on the knob. Hard. At the same time, Schanke grabbed Perkins's
arm. The door swung open forcefully, and Perkins toppled onto the
porch.

Schanke picked him up. "Now, Mr. Perkins. We can talk here, or we can
talk down at headquarters. The choice is yours."

Perkins and Schanke settled into the porch swing. Nick stood behind
them. He focused on Elwood's heartbeat. It was high, but not
alarmingly so. He could just be nervous about talking to the police.

Perkins swallowed hard. "What do you want to ask me?"

"You work for Express Parcel Service. Right?" Skanke said, taking out
his notebook and a pencil.

Perkins nodded. His heart rate went up a notch.

"And you drive Route 39. Right?"

Another nod. Another notch.

"Do you know either Angela Grocemann or Julia Mercer?"

Perkins shook his head no. His breathing started to increase and Nick
could see his left hand starting to twitch ever so slightly.

"You made deliveries to Mercer on ... " Schanke flipped a few pages in
his notebook. " ... the third of last month and to Grocemann ... " He
flipped another page. " ... just last Tuesday."

"Officer. I make hundreds of deliveries every week. Most of the time,
I don't pay attention to who gets what. I go by the address, not the
name." His left hand was twitching faster and his heart rate was
speeding up rapidly. Nick could almost smell a touch of fear creeping
into his scent.

"What about Michelle Prater or Delores Shiningmoon?"

He shook his head rapidly and stiffly. "Are they on Route 39, too?"

"No. They're on Route 56."

"Then why would you think I'd know them. I don't drive that route."
The fear scent was definitely noticeable. A vein on Elwood's forehead
became engorged. Nick swallowed the vampire back behind the barrier
that contained it.

"But you did drive it two weeks ago, didn't you?"

Elwood thought a moment and then slowly nodded. "Oh, yes, I forgot
about that. I filled in for Sam Butchen. His wife had a baby and he
asked me to cover for him."

"And you don't remember any of these people?"

Elwood shook his head. Much too quickly.

"May we come inside and have a look around?" Nick asked.

Perkins's heart rate went sky high, almost literally. "NO! I told you
... My wife ... She's waiting for me. Louise ... Louise is not well,
and she ... she doesn't like company. Too much excitement ... Louise
can't handle excitement." Tiny beads of perspiration welled on his
forehead and Nick noted that his hands were clasped across his chest
in a fierce defensive posture.

"Very well, Mr. Perkins." Nick said softly. "We wouldn't want to upset
your wife."

"Can I go in now?" Perkins asked. His voice was climbing the scale.

**********

Elwood tiptoed into the bedroom. "Don't worry, honey." He said to the
figure lying in the bed. "Those were just a couple of policemen." He
patted the comforter. "They asked about your friends. I sent them
away. They won't be back."

**********

"You know he's lying through his teeth." Schanke said as he buckled
his seatbelt. "He's hiding something as sure as I like donuts. And I
don't even need … you know … special powers to tell that."

"I don't need them either. And you're right. He isn't telling
everything. What do you say we get a search warrant and come back and
have another little 'talk' with him."

"Then why are we sitting here?"

Nick put the Caddy in gear and pulled out in the night traffic

**********

Nick put the Forensics report on the Naherer shooting in his pocket.
Compared to the Insulin Killings, this one was a piece of cake. The
two men had been adversaries for many years. They were drunk and had
argued. Over a woman. In the ensuing melee, Mike Westerman pulled a
gun and shot Thomas Nahrer three times point blank. There were a dozen
witnesses, give or take a few. The only question was the degree of the
charge. Westerman was sincerely sorry and was cooperating as far as
possible with the police. The Crown Prosecutor, and everyone else
seemed to think he would be tried for first degree manslaughter.

By some mysterious coincidence, he found himself in the basement
where, it just so happened, the morgue and Coroner's offices were
located. Since he was this far, it would be rude not to pay a call on
the pretty ME.

Natalie stared intently at the liver on the tray. With the way that
this organ had deteriorated, it was a wonder that the woman had lived
this long. Years of alcohol, drug abuse and malnutrition had left the
liver bloated and misshapen. Although all the evidence so far pointed
to the fact that Madeline Cartwright had died of natural causes, Nat
was positive that drink and drugs played a large part in the woman's
death.

She jumped as Nick put his hands on her shoulders. "Boo." He whispered
in her ear.

"Don't EVER do that again!' She rebuked. "You nearly made me
contaminate a piece of evidence.

"Sorry." He said. "You just looked so intense. I'll be a good boy. If
… "

"If what?"

"If you'll come up to the loft after shift and watch movies with me.
I've got this great Bogart tape and I … "

"BOGART!" Nat squealed. "Now you just made me an offer I can't
refuse." She said in her best Godfather voice.

"Wrong movie." He was rewarded with a wad of paper towel being thrown
at him.

"Just be glad it wasn't this liver."

"Bad Coroner. Just for that, no cookies. See you about eight, then?"

"Eight it is. Now, let me get back to Mrs. Cartwright, or I'll have to
bring her along with me." She looked around. Nick was gone.

**********

"What do you mean we can't get a search warrant?" Don Schanke said.
"We believe that this Elwood Perkins is the Insulin killer. And I know
that we can find enough evidence in his house to convict him hands
down."

"I'm afraid that's not enough to convince Judge Barnett. He wants
something solid." Captain Cohen said. "I want him caught as much as
you do, but convincing Barnett is another matter. He's a stickler for
the letter of the law and without ... how did he put it ... empirical
evidence ..." She raised her harms in surrender. " ... As my sainted
grandfather used to say, no tickee no washee."

"Oh. That's just great!" Schanke argued. "Everyone wants him caught,
but when push comes to shove, nobody wants to lift a finger. What will
it take? Sworn and notarized testimony by the pope that he saw Perkins
actually killing the victims?" He slammed the door much harder than
necessary as he stormed out of the office.

"So, partner, what do we do now?" He asked as he plopped down at his
desk. "I know in my heart of hearts that Perkins is the killer, and so
do you. But gut instinct is not enough for the judicial system."

"Maybe there is something we can do." Nick said. "You said that your
cousin is a diabetic?"

"What do you mean?" Then, as if a light came on in his head. "No. No
way. You're not going to use Thelma as bait. I won't allow you.
Besides, Myra'd kill me if anything happened to her."

"I wouldn't think of using Thelma, just her name. And she does live on
Route 39. What we can do is ... " He cupped his hand over his
partner's ear and roughed out his plan.

**********

"You two are out of your tiny little minds! Both of you!" Natalie
Lambert shouted at the two detectives standing in the middle of the
autopsy room. "You can't be serious."

"Think about it, Nat. It makes perfect sense." Nick said. "I mean, you
know this case, and you are a doctor after all, so you would know
something about what to look for. Plus, Schanke or I will be with you
every step of the way."

"What makes you think he'll strike again. I mean, now that he knows
you're on to him, he'll probably stop."

"I don't think so. My first reaction says he isn't being rational
about this." Schanke said.

"Schanke's right." Nick added. "From what I could tell, he doesn't
realize he's doing anything wrong, so he'll most likely keep on doing
it until he's stopped."

"That's where you come in." Schanke explained. "If we can get him to
go after you, we can stop him."

"Well ... I ... "

Nick planted a resounding kiss on one cheek while his partner did the
same with the opposite. "Don't worry, Nat. You won't be in any danger.
We won't let anything happen to you."

"Famous Last Words."

**********

Thelma Griffith paced the floor. Her house was a homey somewhat
nondescript dwelling in the same general area as the Mercers. She was
a petite woman, nicely built, but not stunning in the physical sense.
She had auburn hair and the same hazel eyes as Nat. Yes, Nat could
easily impersonate her.

She looked at her cousin and his partner. "Of course I'll be glad to
help, Donny. I've been reading about the killings. I'm so sorry for
the victims and their families. Of course, I'm scared too. After all,
I'm a Type II diabetic. Who knows, I might be next." She paused and a
sad look came into her eyes. "I knew Julie Mercer. She and Lee go to
my church. I mean, she went to our church. I even went to the funeral.
She was a good woman. I want her killer caught. What do I do?"

"Actually, Thel, you do nothing except go on a vacation." Don said. "I
know for a fact that you haven't had a real vacation in over three
years. All we really need is your name and your house. We'll do the
rest. We have an undercover person who will impersonate you and we are
going to use her as bait to draw the killer out."

"You pick the place, The department will cover the costs." Nick said.

"But my job ... "

"Don't worry, we'll square it with your boss." Nick added. "Now, why
don't you pack while we make the arrangements. Where would you like to
go?"

"Well, since it's all expenses, what about Aruba?"

Nick swallowed hard. This was going to cost a chunk, but if it helped
to catch the killer ... "Okay, Aruba it is." He picked up the phone.

"Aruba?" Schanke said as his cousin went upstairs to pack. "You know
as well as I do that the accounting department is going to blow a
gasket. They'll never spring for something like that. Moose Jaw,
maybe, but Aruba …?" He shook his head.

"Who said anything about the department?" Nick said with a sly grin.

"Then who ... No. You can't ... You're not going to ... "

"Why not. I can afford it and your cousin seems like a nice lady. Call
it a reward for her cooperation."

"If I cooperate, will you send Myra and me to Aruba, too?" He was
answered by his partner's notebook hitting him in the shoulder.

**********

Elwood Perkins picked up his delivery schedule for the day. He was
pleasantly surprised to see a new name on it. Thelma Griffith. And she
had a delivery from Jensen Diabetic Supply Co. It was right on
schedule, too. Louise hadn’t had any visitors since that nice lady two
weeks ago. She should be getting a little lonely by now and maybe a
visit from Thelma was just what she needed to cheer her up. He could
use some cheering as well. He hummed a little tune as he put the
package in the rack on the truck.

**********

Nat paced the floor of the living room. Thelma had called from Aruba.
She was having the time of her life and Nat had been moved into the
house in her stead. "Are you sure this is going to work?" She asked
Schanke for the fiftieth time.

"Look, do I have to put it in writing? We okayed it with the people at
the Montreal warehouse. They agreed to ship a dummy package from a
dummy company to here via Express Parcel. According to the route
manager, Perkins picked up the package this morning. He should be
dropping it off any minute now."

"And Cohen goes along with this?"

"Well … "

"The truth, Schanke. Nick was as vague as you are when I asked him."

"The truth. Well, it's a little … "

"She doesn't know, does she?"

Schanke tugged at his collar and swallowed. "Not exactly."

"So, you two are doing this on your own."

"Look. You are as safe as if you were in your own home. After all,
Nick is asleep upstairs and I'm right here. What could possibly go
wrong?"

"I've got a morgue full of victims who said the same thing."

"Well, we won't have to wait much longer. That looks like the EPS
truck now. I'd better get out of sight." Schanke said as he headed for
the kitchen. From there, he had a clear view of the front door. "You
got the wire on?"

Nat patted her chest and let out a loud whistle. There was a squealing
sound in the tiny earphone that the detective wore. Schanke winced and
let out a small groan at the noise.

"Good afternoon, Miss Griffith." Elwood said as he handed her the
package. "Here is your delivery. I see you are using one of those
online pharmacies. Do you like it?"

"Immensely. Since I need U-100 on a regular basis, it's easier to get
it this way than to go to the druggist."

"I know what you mean. My wife is a diabetic, too."

Natalie thanked him and shut the door.

Elwood copied the name from the delivery invoice. < Yes. Louise would
definitely like this one. >

"Now what do we do." Nat said as she put the package on the hall
table.

"Now we wait. Each of the other victims was murdered within a week of
receiving a delivery. If what Nick thinks is correct, we should be
hearing from our Mr. Perkins in a few days."

"What makes you think he'll pick me, or rather Thelma?"

"I saw the look on his face. He's definitely interested."

**********

LaCroix sat at his usual spot at the bar. Something was afoot. Of that
he was sure. What, he did not know. Ever since he had banished the
vampires that had been harassing his son's partner, things had much
been too quiet. It felt like the calm before the storm. That in itself
was bad enough, but LaCroix had no idea what, or when things were
going to happen. This was not a position he felt comfortable with. He
was not in control. He disliked it intensely when he was not in
control.

In the corner, three vampires sat in the deep shadows.

"Are you sure this was such a god idea?" One of them asked. "Meeting
here, that is. I mean the Raven is his hangout, after all."

"What better place?" Malcolm replied. "This is the last place he's
expect us to be. Hiding in the obvious, so to say."

"Where is Adrian?" The third one asked. "He really should be here."

"I know, Leon. But we thought it would be better for everyone of he
weren't. LaCroix tangled with him. He knows his vibes. If he were
here, it could make us that much easier to spot. I was never in
contact with him. Janette was the one who fought me. And I checked.
She is not here tonight."

"So." Leon said. "What is the situation that has you and Adrian so
upset?"

"As you know, de Brabant has broken the Code by revealing himself to
several mortals. Not only did the Elders and the Council do nothing
about it, that fool Etrian has placed these mortals his personal
protection. LaCroix has done the same. We should have taken care of de
Brabant and his mortal playthings when we had the chance. We made our
mistake by taking that pathetic mortal to LaCroix. We thought he would
handle it for us. When Adrian and I confronted him about this, we were
treated as though WE were the wrongdoers, not his wayward son. They
are the traitors, not us. They deserve to be punished, not us."

"And what do you propose that we do about it?" The third leaned in to
his companions.

"Since they will not take action, Jeremy." Malcolm continued. "It is
up to us and all other right thinking vampires to correct the
situation. And to teach de Brabant that he cannot get away with such a
detestable breach of the Code."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Jeremy asked. "After the
thrashing that LaCroix gave you and Adrian, you know he'll be watching
you like a hawk. I have no doubt he has reported this to Etrian. He
will be watching as well."

"I know. Meet me at the abandoned warehouse on pier 28 tomorrow right
after sunset. Bring anyone you feel that you can trust. We'll explain
then." He looked toward where LaCroix sat. "I had better go now before
LaCroix catches sight of me." In a breath, he was gone.

**********

"While it's true that the Red Queen goes on black King, you have to
play the black five first." Nick admonished.

"Oh yeah!" Schanke replied, pulling the cards together in a pile. "And
I suppose you could do better?"

"I have. I beat the house the last three times I played."

"And you didn't cheat?"

"Would I lie?"

"You have for the past five years. Why stop now." Schanke snapped.

"Low blow, Skank." Nat jumped into the conversation. "You know Nick
only did what he had to do to protect you."

"I know." Schanke sighed and put the cards back in the case. "Look,
I'm sorry I bit your head off, but if Perkins doesn't strike soon, I'm
going to go stark staring looneytunes. It's been three days and the
suspense is getting to me."

"We've been on stakeouts that have lasted a lot longer and it hasn't
bothered you like this."

"Yeah, but this is Nat and Thel we're talking about. Come on, phone,
RING!"

As if on cue, the phone rang. Schanke plugged in the recorder and
signaled Nat to pick up the phone. "If this is another salesman, I'll
reach through the phone and strangle him." He whispered just loud
enough for Nick to hear.

Nat picked up the phone.

"Miss Perkins." The voice on the other end said. Nat gave Nick and
Schanke the high sign. "You might not remember me. I'm Elwood Perkins.
I delivered a shipment of diabetic supplies to you the other day."

"Yes, Mr. Perkins. I remember you. I'm single and I live alone, and I
don't have many visitors." Nat recited the scenario that they had
worked out. "So, I remember anyone who comes to the door. Even
delivery people. What can I do for you? There wasn't anything wrong
with my package, was there?"

"Oh, no. What I'm calling about is … well … Louise … my wife. As I
told you, she's a diabetic too. She doesn't get out much, and … And I
was wondering … would you … I mean since you're both in the same boat,
so to speak … maybe you could visit her. She'd really appreciate the
company … And … and so would I."

"I think I could do that. After all, we diabetics have to stick
together. When would you like me to come over?"

"How about tonight? I could come by and pick you up around seven?"

"Seven is fine."

"Thank you Miss Perkins. You don't know how much good you have done."

**********

Adrian welcomed the group. Six of them. That would be a start. He was
sure that once the word spread among the Community, many others would
join them. Then he could return the Community to its rightful place in
the universe, not this fearful, sniveling pack that it had come to be
in the last fifty years.

"I am pleased to see all of you." He said, shaking the hand of the
vampire nearest to him. "From what I understand, most of you were
brought across when being a vampire was something to be feared and
respected. We ruled the night. We were gods.

What are we now? We hide in shadows and quake in our boots. Either
that, or we try to blend in with the puny mortal community." He spat
the last words. "We have forgotten that they are our FOOD, not our
friends. And our leaders CONDONE this behavior. They FORBID the hunt.
They allow, no, they even ENCOURAGE, these PATHETIC humans to know of
our existence and they do NOTHING!"

Cheers greeted this statement.

WE must take back our Community! WE must rid ourselves of these
doddering old fools who would reduce us to nothing more than shadows
and mists. WE must strike the first blow. ARE YOU WITH ME!"

"YES!!!" Came the resounding answer.

"GOOD! Then here is what we must do. First we … "

**********

It was about seven thirty when the light blue pickup truck pulled into
the driveway. Nick and Schanke had watched from an upstairs window as
it circled the block several times. Apparently, Perkins could have
been suspicious and was checking to see if there was anything amiss.
They had taken Schanke's car, since he might have seen the Caddy when
they visited him at his house. They had parked it several houses away.
Satisfied, Perkins went to the door.

He greeted Nat / Thelma with a bouquet of flowers. With the
microminiature microphone they had entwined into her hair, Nick and
Schanke could hear everything. They exchanged pleasantries and then
Elwood escorted her to his truck.

"You follow about three blocks behind her." Nick said as they watched
them pull out into the street.

"That's too far away. What if I lose her?"

"Not a chance. I’m going to be right above them. I'll keep in touch
with you on the cell phone."

"Well, that's one advantage I don't have. Let's get to it, partner."

**********

Nick hovered about thirty feet above the truck. Thankfully, the route
that Elwood chose was not well traveled, and Nick was sure that no one
had spotted him. On a deserted stretch of the road, he got an
inspiration. Flying this slow was tiring. Gently, he lowered himself
until he was barely above the roof. As light as a feather, he settled
on it. Sitting cross legged, he folded his arms and closed his eyes.
It reminded him of the scenes in the movies of a magic carpet. That
is, until the truck hit a bump, and Nick was catapulted back into the
air. He shook his head to get his bearings, and, satisfied that no one
had spotted him, the continued the journey from the air.

Predictably, Perkins pulled in behind his residence. He got out, and
ever the gentleman, escorted Nat / Thelma into the house.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked.

"No, thank you." Nat replied.

"Well, I told Louise that you were coming. She's so anxious to see
you. Are you ready?"

From their observation spot at the end of the block, Nick tapped
Schanke. "This is it. Get ready."

Elwood showed Nat into the bedroom. "Louise, honey." He said, going
around to face the blanket covered figure lying in the bed. "This is
Thelma. She is a diabetic, too. Would you like to meet her?" He
motioned to Nat to join him.

Nat stood wide eyed at the sight before her. She started to scream,
but nothing came out. "She's … she's … " Nat stammered.

"I know Louise is a little on the thin side, but that's because she
hasn't had much opportunity to exercise. Have you, honey." Elwood
said, patting her head. "As you can see, she's bedridden."

"She's not bedridden. She's dead. She's been dead for some time.
That's just a skeleton." Nat gasped, staring at the skull grinning
back at her.

"That's what the others said, too. But you're all mistaken. She's very
much alive." Elwood said as he grabbed Nat's arm and forced her to the
head of the bed. He took a set of handcuffs from his pocket and put
one on Nat's left wrist and the other through a ring on the bedpost.
"Now, you two have a nice chat. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"NICK! SKANK! Nat whispered loudly into the mike. "GET ME OUT OF HERE.
HE'S INSANE!"

"Be patient, Nat." Nick replied into the tiny earpiece. "We'll be in
very shortly."

"Just a few more minutes." Schanke added. "That's all we need."

"You don't understand." Nat whispered. "Louise is nothing but a
skeleton. It looks like she's been dead for at least five or six
months. Maybe longer. Right now, he's got me chained to the bedpost."

She was interrupted as Elwood came into the room. He held a glass to
her. "DRINK!" He commanded.

"What's that?"

"You seem a little nervous around my wife. This is just a little
something to take the edge off and make your visit a lot easier." He
had a strange wide eyed look about him. "Now, be a nice girl and
drink." He forced the glass between her lips. Nat pushed it away with
her free hand. She was rewarded with a stinging slap across the face.

Elwood set the glass on the nightstand and forcefully grabbed her free
hand. Quickly, he handcuffed it to the bedpost ring. "I thought you
would be better than the others." He shouted. "You're all the same. No
one wants to spend any time with the sick." He struck her again and
held the glass to her lips once more. "DRINK!" He demanded.

"Why are you doing this?" Nat asked.

"Louise needs company. I do too. Louise understands. Don't you Louise?
She says it's okay if I … I …It would be a lot easier on you if you
would drink the glass." He held it to her again.

"You did this to the other four women, didn't you?" Nat asked, the
fear in her voice was palpable. "You raped them, tortured them, and
then killed them, didn't you?"

" NO! It wasn't like that. They wouldn't cooperate. I had to show them
that it was okay with everyone. After all, a man has needs, too. Do
you realize how long it has been since I was with a woman?" He began
to unzip his trousers.

The door breaking in interrupted him. Schanke grabbed Perkins while
Nick grabbed the handcuffs binding Nat and snapped them in one motion.
"Are you all right?" He asked, gently brushing the bruise on her
cheek.

Nat nodded. "Did you get it all?"

"Everything." Nick said, pulling a compact recorder from his pocket.
"This, and your testimony should be enough for a hands down
conviction."

"You do not have to make any statements … " Schanke was telling
Perkins as he snapped his cuffs on the delivery man.

**********

Nick, Don and Nat stood at the two way mirror as the psychiatrist
questioned Perkins. Captain Cohen was behind them. From his statements
to them and from what he was telling the Doctor, Louise Perkins died
about six months ago from complications of her diabetes. Apparently,
he could not accept the fact that she was dead, and his mind snapped.
He believed that he was only trying to provide companionship for his
ailing wife and have someone to satisfy his needs. When the women
refused to comply, he would become increasingly brutal in his
treatment, eventually killing them. He did not have any concept that
what he had done was wrong. Even now, his only concern was who would
take care of Louise.

"Poor slob." Schanke said. "He's definitely gone round the bend. If
he's lucky, he'll probably spend the rest of his days in a mental
institute for the criminally insane."

"I know. If it weren't for the fact that what he did was so horrible,
I could almost feel sorry for him." Nat said. She touched the black-
purple spot on her cheek.

"Anyway, at least there won't be any more killings." Nick agreed.

" … And that's the only thing that's saving your sorry butts." Amanda
Cohen said. "What you did went against nearly every rule in the book.
Failing to inform your superior officer of your intentions. Illegal
stakeout. Involving a non police member. Putting her life in serious
danger. Need I go on?"

"No, ma'am." Nick and Don said almost as one.

"Good. Don't ever let me hear of you two doing such a damn fool thing
again." She started to the door. "By the way. Good work, guys."

**********

Malcolm, Leon, and Adrian crouched in the shadows behind the precinct.
Jeremy and the others were waiting for them at the abandoned
warehouse.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Malcolm said. "I mean, grabbing
them here at the police station."

"You're not afraid of a few mere mortals, are you?" Adrian spat.
"Because if you are, maybe you'd like to join de Brabant and his
friends."

"No. It's just … " He was cut off as Nick, Don and Nat came out of the
rear door.

"Well." Nick said to his companions. "Since that case is closed, how
about I treat you all to breakfast? As long as you don't order any
garlic toast." He looked directly at Schanke.

"Who? Me?" Schanke replied with mock innocence.

They climbed into the Caddy. As they were pulling onto the street, the
three vampires appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Nick braked the car
to a stop and turned to fight the intruders. He stopped short when he
saw that two of them held guns to Don's and Nat's heads.

"Good move de Brabant." Adrian said. "Now, drive where we tell you or
we will kill these insignificant mortals."

**********

"Revenge ... Retribution." The Nightcrawler whispered into the
microphone. "Is it all that it is supposed to be. Do we really even
the score when we go after those who we believe have injured us,
whether it be physically, mentally, or emotionally. Do we truly pay
them back for what we believe they have done or do we just make a case
for them to return the act?

Think about it, My Children. Do you do anything good when you harm
those who have harmed you. Does your inflicting pain and suffering on
others wipe away the pain and suffering that you have felt? Does your
act bring everything back the way it was? Does your conscience become
clear and innocent again? Or do your actions only escalate the quarrel
to new levels.

Isaac Newton once said that every action evokes an equal and opposite
reaction. This action, unless stopped, continues ad infinitum. But,
unlike Newton's hypothesis, these vengeful actions are not equal. Each
of the retributions is harsher and more deadly than the one before.

So, Mes Amis. Be careful before you seek an eye for an eye. Be mindful
that your opponent doesn't take an eye … And a hand … And a leg.

"I am the Nightcrawler. I will always welcome you. No matter what you
have done."

LaCroix hit the switch to start the long playing album. He stiffened
slightly. Nicholas. He was in trouble.

**********

Malcolm threw Schanke against the wall. Leon did the same to Natalie.
They both slid to the ground in a daze. Nick turned to Adrian, his
eyes gold and his fangs down. Leon brought his revolver against Nat's
head.

"You don't want anything to happen to your little pets, do you, de
Brabant?" Adrian hissed and grabbed Nick by the throat. He lifted him
slightly off the ground. "Just be a good boy and this will be over
soon."

"What do you want?" Nick hissed. "Let them go. They have done nothing
to you."

"Oh, but they have." Adrian said. "They know about us and our
Community. They are a threat to every vampire. It is our sworn duty to
fulfill the Code in this matter."

"They have been a great help to the Community. Even the Enforcers
recognize their contribution. If it weren't for Doctor Lambert, here
some of you probably wouldn't even be alive now. She has treated our
kind for burns and wounds more than a few occasions. She covered for
careless vampires any number of times. Often at the risk of her life
and her career. Remember the Asteroid scare? Who do you think saved us
from being discovered? Although my partner only found out recently, he
too has protected the Community. I assure you, they are no threat. To
you or to anyone. Let them go now and there will be nothing further
said about this."

"We CANNOT let them go!" Adrian shouted. He tightened his grip on
Nick's throat. "There has been TOO MUCH compromise. It MUST stop. It
must stop HERE. It must stop NOW. "

"Is that true?" Jeremy asked. "Did they cover for us?"

"What difference does that make?" Adrian rebuked. "They are mortals.
They know our secret. That's all that matters."

"No it isn't." Leon said, lowering his gun from Natalie's head. "I was
caught in the sun once. It burned me badly. I vaguely remember Janette
bringing someone to the Raven. This person treated my burns and looked
out for me until I recovered. If she's the one who saved me, I can't
kill her."

"Then I WILL DO IT!" Adrian seethed. He threw Nick forcefully against
the concrete wall. He grabbed at Adrian, but the renegade vampire
thrust his elbow into Nick's chest. Nick felt ribs popping. He swung
tightly at Adrian. He fist caught him in the face and he heard his
nose snap. Blood spurted from the nostrils. Another thrust pushed Nick
against the wall again. This time with vengeance. His head swam as he
felt his skull fracture from the blow. Once more he tackled Adrian. He
heard an arm bone break. He wasn't sure in whom. This time the rogue
threw him to the floor. Nick felt his right cheekbone splinter as he
hit the concrete. This, combined with his other injuries, sent the
room spinning in a green gray haze.

Adrian grabbed Leon by the shirt front with his good arm. "Get out
while you can or I will destroy you along with them." He handed the
gun to Jeremy.

The vampire refused it. "My brother was treated by her for a stake
wound." He said softly. "He recovered." He went and stood by Leon. The
other two joined them.

"You are all COWARDS!" Adrian cried. "Malcolm! KILL THEM ALL!"

"No." Malcolm said, lowering his gun as well.

"THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Malcolm and the rest started to the door. Adrian picked up a piece of
wood that was lying on the floor and threw it at the departing
vampires. It caught Malcolm squarely in the back. The others took off
at with unbelievable speed. In almost the same instant, he roughly
pulled Nick from the floor and spun him around so that his neck was
bared. His fangs elongated and he pulled Nick's head to the side. With
a loud roar, he dove for Nick's jugular vein.

Suddenly, he stopped. He turned his head and saw Schanke standing
behind him with a hand on the end of another piece of board. The
opposite end was protruding from the vampire's chest.

"Hasta la bye bye. Scumbag." Schanke said as he gave the wood one last
shove. Adrian crumpled to the floor, a look of surprise and horror on
his face.

Natalie put her arm around Nick as he swayed markedly.

"I'm all right. " He said. "Just a little dizzy."

"Dizzy?" Nat said. She guided him to a crate and eased him onto it.
Carefully she pressed on his head. He winced painfully. "It looks to
me as though you have a pretty good concussion if not a hairline skull
fracture. She dabbed at his puffed cheek with a handkerchief. He
moaned. "And a broken cheekbone." She pressed on his chest. This
brought a yelp of pain. "As well as a few fractured ribs."

"What can I do?" Don asked.

"Right now? Nothing." Nat said. "He needs blood and you're the nearest
supply."

"What about you?"

"He won't hurt me."

"If he needs blood, then here's all he can handle." Don loosened his
collar.

"No." Nick said. "I cannot take … from you."

"Why not? It's one hundred percent grade A Schanke. The best there
is."

"Because Natalie … right." His breathing became harder as a rib
pressed against his lung. "In my … condition … take too much." <Also,
you'll know the real me. You'll see how evil I truly am. >

"Schanke's right." Nat insisted. "You need blood. He's willing. I'll
be here to see that you don't take too much. If I feel it's getting
out of hand, I'll pull you off."

Nick nodded. "Okay." He said as he took Schanke's arm. He let his
fangs grow. "Why do they always think ... we go … for the jugular?" He
winced as he let out a small laugh.

**********

LaCroix stopped just as he was about to take to the air. He could no
longer sense any danger around his son. "< He is feeding. > He smiled.
< And from his partner. Perhaps he has finally learned his lesson. >
He headed back into the broadcast booth.

**********

"Whoa, partner. What was that?" Schanke asked as he shook his head.
Already the two tiny marks on his wrist where his partner had bit were
nearly healed.

"What was what?" Natalie asked.

"What I just saw. I can't really make head or tail of it. It was all
jumbled, but I know it had something to do with Nick's past."

"You don't want to know what that was." Nick wiped the last drops of
Schanke's blood from his lips. Already he was in much better condition
than a few minutes before. "Take my advice, you want to forget that as
soon as possible."

"It was your past, wasn't it."

Nick reluctantly nodded. "When we take blood, we know everything about
a person. Everything. Sometimes it works both ways. What you think you
saw was only a small part of me. I tried to hide as much as I could.
Still, now you know exactly what kind of a depraved evil monster I
really am." He hung his head and turned away from him. "I'll put in
for a transfer first thing tomorrow. Better yet, I'll turn in my
resignation."

"You'll WHAT?"

"That way you won't have to be around me any more. You can live a
normal life and not have to worry about being killed by your partner."

"Not on a bet. Whatever I saw, that might have been what you were a
long time ago. That's not what you are now. You put your life on the
line for me back there and that's not the doing of an evil monster. As
I said before, you're one of the good guys now, and I trust you with
my life. That's what partners are for after all. You are my partner.
Period. End of discussion. Got that?"

Nick slowly turned toward Schanke. "You really mean that, don't you."

"Yeah. I really mean that." He held out his hand. "Partners?"

Nick smiled as he took the proffered hand. "Partners."

Schanke had a wide grin on his face. "By the way, is that offer for
breakfast still on? I'm starved." He put his arm around Nick and Nat
and the three of them started for the door.

**********

Nick stood dumbfounded at the sight before him. There, covering an
area of at least several acres was the remains of Royal Aviation
flight 355. Toronto to Vancouver. Somewhere in the mass of tangled
bodies and body parts was Amanda Cohen, his Captain and Donald
Schanke, his partner. Don had returned from Aruba only days before,
and now ... He shut his eyes and let the scene play in his mind once
again.

**********

96th Precinct, Two days earlier

"Look, partner. There's no way you are going to Vancouver." Schanke
was saying. "First of all, the plane will be landing in the daylight,
and from what I understand, Vancouver doesn't have covered walkways on
all their portals yet. Second, you know as sure as I’m sitting here,
we're going to have to testify at the trial. I doubt if the judges out
there will be as understanding as some of the judges here about an
evening trial. Since I know all about the case too, it's only logical
that I accompany Captain Cohen when we take Dollard back. Period. End
of sentence. Bottom line. No further discussion on the matter."

"But Schanke ..."

"I said I was going. Case closed. Fini. Cohen already has the tickets
in my name." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and patted it.
"Besides, she has already notified Provincial in BC that we will be
accompanying the prisoner. You couldn't go now even if you wanted to.
Which you just said you do. Sorry about that, Pard. Hasta la bye bye.
See you when I get back. "

**********

Present

< Now he won't ever be coming back. > Nick thought as a lump formed in
his throat. He wanted to hurt someone … or something …bad ... very
bad. If he had only insisted more strongly, it would have been him on
the plane instead of Don. He would have survived. They did not. He
closed his eyes tightly and fought the vampire back.

"Nick ... " Tracy Vetter, his temporary partner said. She had her hand
on his sleeve. "One of the rescue workers has just found a body they
believe is Captain Cohen's. She was in one of the middle seats and she
was pretty much intact. Dollard had the window seat, and they think he
was blown out on impact. They did find his right arm still attached to
the handcuff around her wrist."

"Schanke?" Nick asked. His voice almost breaking.

Tracy shook her head "Nothing yet. But there are so many bodies that
they haven't identified."

Natalie came to them. Even though the explosion had taken place only a
little over two hours ago, she was already near exhaustion. Her face
showed the strain. Her lab coat was covered with dirt, grease, blood
and other things Nick didn't want to think about. "Most of what they
have found so far are only arms and legs and other body pieces. I have
a feeling that most of the passengers will have to wait for dental and
or DNA matches. Some of them may never be identified. We've set up a
temporary morgue in a warehouse near here. Maybe we'll be able to sort
things out a little better when we get everything in there."

"I know, Nat. I just keep hoping. One way or another, there should be
a closure. For Myra's and Jenny's sake." Nick put his arms around Nat
and held her tightly.

"And for you." She gently wiped a tear from his eyes. He did the same
to her tears.

Nick nodded softly. "And for me." He said barely above a whisper.

"I don't hold out too much hope." Nat said, her voice cracking. "So
far, there are no signs of life."

Just then, one of the officers from the crowd detail came up to him.
"Hey, Knight. You got your cell phone on? I just got a call from the
dispatcher. Somebody's been trying to reach you. Whoever it is called
Central and told them to call one of us and tell you to turn it on."

Nick reached into his pocket. Sure enough, his cell phone was off. He
and Tracy had been on a routine patrol when they heard the explosion
and saw the ball of flame envelope the aircraft. He had mechanically
turned it off when they first spotted the flaming wreckage hurtling to
the ground. He did not want to be interrupted.

He turned it on and almost immediately, it began ringing. He pushed
the talk button and put it to his ear. "Knight here."

"Nick! Where on God's green earth have you been? I've been trying to
get hold of you for the last hour and a half."

Nick's mouth dropped as he heard the voice on the other end of the
line. It can't be. Impossible. But it was. He'd know that voice
anywhere.

"Hey, Nick. Buddy. Partner. Don't you ever turn your cell phone on?
That's why Cohen gave them to us. So people could get hold of us in an
emergency. That's what this is. An emergency. I'm at the Procare
Garage on Miller Road. Can you come and get me? I'll explain
everything when you arrive ... Nick? ... Nick?"

***********

Nick broke nearly every speed law there was and severely bent the rest
as he headed from the crash site. He had thought about taking to the
air, but with all of the people and the helicopters and other aircraft
in the area, that was not the best of ideas. Miller Road was about
twenty minutes away. They were the longest twenty minutes he had spent
in all of his 800 years.

**********

Tracy gingerly stepped over the bodies as she sought out Joe Reese,
the acting Captain of the 96th precinct. Although Nick had not said
anything to her as he took off in what appeared to be a blur, she felt
that she had better inform her superior officer that he had left. She
thought about what to tell him. 'Following a lead' seemed to be as
good an explanation as any. As she passed the body of a dark haired
young man, she screamed. She could have sworn he opened his eyes and
looked right at her. "Over here!" She frantically yelled, waving her
arms for attention. "This one's still alive. Over here! Hurry!" She
looked down again at the 'victim', only this time there was no one
there. "Ohmigawd!" She mumbled. She felt lightheaded and her knees
buckled as the blackness surrounded her.

**********

Nick pulled into the garage lot and was out of the Caddy even before
the engine stopped. "SCHANKE! SCHANKE!" He frantically called. "Where
are you?"

Don Schanke came out of the waiting room area munching on a cruller.
"Over here, Nick. It's about time you got here."

Nick grabbed his partner and hugged him tightly. Don wheezed as Nick's
arms began to constrict his chest.

"Go easy there, Nick, before you break a rib or something. Remember,
I'm just a poor old mortal. I'm not invulnerable like you." Schanke
said as he extricated himself. "Man o man! That's some kind of a
welcome. Maybe I should get stranded more often."

"Schanke … " Nick interrupted.

"Boy am I ever glad to see you! The old clunker broke down about six
miles from here. Right in the middle of the Don Parkway. Six miles
from nowhere." Don continued without seeming to hear his partner.
"Wouldn't you know it, nobody would even stop and give me a hand.
Looks like a busted radiator hose to me. Water, water everywhere.
Called the Auto Club and they said it would be at a couple of hours
before they could get to me. Something about a disaster over in
Grenadier Heights."

"Schanke! ... " Nick was more insistent.

"Look, I know I missed the plane, but if you can get me to the
airport, I might be able to catch the red eye to Vancouver. In that
case, maybe Cohen will have me directing rush hour traffic on the QEW
for only six or seven months instead of forever." He picked up his
suitcase and started to the Caddy. "Well, are you coming or do I have
to walk to the airport?"

"You don't know, do you, Schanke?"

"Know what? I've been sitting on the parkway for almost an hour and
then in here for the past hour and a half. By the time the tow truck
got here, they were getting ready to close. The manager said I could
wait for you in his office." He held up a cooler bag. "It's a good
thing Myra packed a little something to tide me over until we … "

Schanke … " Nick said softly. "That disaster they were talking about
was a plane crash. Royal Aviation Flight 355 exploded. No survivors."

"Plane ... Crashed ... No survivors … " Don's face became paler than
his partner's. "You're sure."

Nick nodded imperceptibly.

"Cohen?"

"They've possibly identified her body. And part of Dollard's."

"Oh ... Jeez ... " Schanke shook his head slowly. He crossed himself.
Nick was surprised that he did not flinch as he did that. "Eternal
rest grant unto them ... " Don intoned.

"Now, we'd better get over there and see what we can do to help." Nick
said as he picked up the rest of Don's things and headed for the
Caddy.

*********

Natalie looked around the impromptu morgue. Fortunately, they had
called in every off duty coroner. Once the word had gotten out, many
of the physicians, as well as a few of the undertakers in the area
volunteered their assistance as well. Still, sorting the growing mass
of parts into identifiable bodies was going to be a nearly impossible
job. So far, the only survivor anyone had found was an eight to ten
month old baby girl. Miraculously, except for a few minor cuts and
bruises, she appeared to be in good health. The medics had taken her
to Children's Hospital for a complete checkup. At the crash site, the
search had unofficially shifted from search and rescue to search and
recovery.

Nick came up behind her. Thankfully, he had the good sense to make
some noise this time. She doubted if she could have survived being
frightened right now. She was afraid enough as it is.

"Need some help?" He asked. "I brought a friend." He pointed to the
figure standing in the doorway.

Natalie stifled a small scream. < It can't be! One of the coroners had
tentatively identified one of the bodies as his. It must be a
hallucination. >

"You're not seeing things." Don Schanke said as the Coroner hugged him
tightly. "It's me in the rotund robust flesh." He and Nick filled her
in on the details. " … And to think, if it weren't for that busted
radiator hose, I would have been be lying here with all the others."
He pointed to a row of zippered body bags.

"For the record, Detective Schanke." Nat said in her best professional
voice. Unfortunately, it did little to hide the emotion lying just
beneath the surface. "We need an identification of Amanda Cohen's
body. Do you think you're up to it?"

"What about her family?"

"They're in shock. Martin's doctor didn't think it would be a good
thing for him to come down here at this time. He'll make the formal
identification tomorrow morning. For now, though, we need an official
ID so we can close her file."

Don nodded. Nat pulled open the body bag. "That's Amanda Cohen all
right." He said in a cracking whisper. His face drained of all its
color. "Oh man o man … " His legs turned to rubber and the ground came
to meet him.

**********

Don Schanke opened his eyes. This didn't look like the plane. In fact,
it looked like his partner's … loft? < What am I doing here? I'm
supposed to be on my way to Vancouver with Captain Cohen and … > He
groaned as he lay back on the couch. The events of the previous
evening flooded back. The radiator. The crash. Seeing Cohen's body. He
had passed out. A hand stroked his head. He turned to it and then
grabbed tightly to her.

Myra Schanke held her husband as the tears streamed down her face.
"Oh, Donny! I couldn't believe it when they told me that you were
dead. Something inside of me said you were still alive. I know I would
have felt it if you weren't. Then, when Nick called, I rushed right
over here."

"But how did I get here?"

"Simple." His partner said as he stepped into Don's line of sight. "I
brought you here. By the time Nat had made sure there was nothing
physically wrong with you, it was almost daylight and with my ..." He
cleared his throat loudly. " ... sun allergy ... there wasn't time to
take you to your house. I called Myra. She and Jenny arrived a few
minutes ago."

Just then, a nine year old whirlwind that was named Jenny Schanke ran
into her father's arms. "Daddy!" She cried, hugging him tightly. "I'm
so glad you're here. First, Officer Miller came to the house and said
you were dead, but Mommy and I didn't believe him. Then, when Uncle
Nick called, we knew you were okay. Did you know that he has a forty
two inch HD television screen? And a totally awesome eight speaker
Dolby stereo surround sound CD system?"

Don Schanke hugged his daughter and his wife tightly. "Yes, honey, I
know. And I think that Uncle Nick could use some rest right about now.
So could I. Why don't we head for home and let him get some sleep."

**********

Tracy slowly became aware that the world was coming into focus once
more. She was sitting in the passenger seat of her car. She looked at
the driver. It was the 'dead' man she had seen at the crash. Only this
time he was very much alive and … although somewhat bloody … well.

"Good. You're awake." He said.

"Who … the hell … are you?"

"Javier Vachon. At your service." He made an exaggerated bow toward
her. "And you are Tracy Vetter, Metro police. I checked your ID."

"Then you know why you are going to drive us both downtown."

"I don't think so."

"What did you say?"

"I said no." Vachon caught her heartbeat. His voice became low and
soft. "First we are going to the Salvation Army so I can get a change
of clothes and then we are going to your house so I can clean up. Then
we are going to say Buenos Noches and you will forget you ever saw
me."

Tracy shook her head. There was a strange fuzzy sensation in her mind.
She had felt the same thing a couple of years ago when a theatrical
hypnotist had tried to put her under. It didn't work then and it
wasn't working now. "Bullshit. First you were dead and then you were
missing from the scene of the crash and now you're alive and driving
my car. And you really think I'm going to forget that? You've got to
be dumber than you look. Now I'm going to tell you. WE are going to
the Precinct." Her voice had a very determined tone. "NOW!"

< Oh no. Just my luck. A resister. > Vachon shook his head. "What if I
tell you everything I know about the crash. Then will you do as I
ask?"

**********

The reception that Schanke received at the precinct was nothing less
than a full blown party. Complete with banners and a cake. The only
one not fully participating was his partner.

Nick sat in the corner running and rerunning a tape of the last
transmission between the crew of Flight 355 and the control tower.
Just before the explosion there were faint tinny, tinkling sounds in
the background. They sounded vaguely familiar.

"All right, boys and girls." Joe Reese said as he came out of the
Captain's office. "I know we're all glad to see that Detective Schanke
is alive and well, but this is a police station, not a party house. We
have a bomber loose out there. Let's get on the stick and find him.
Chop. Chop."

As he went back into the office, Nick stiffened and focused his
sensitive hearing. It was the almost imperceptible sound of a music
box. He followed the new Captain. "What's that?" He asked as Reese
opened the box of chocolates on his desk.

"It's from Commissioner Vetter. Tracy's father." He said as he reached
for a piece. "It's to congratulate me on my promotion … Although I'd
have rather gotten my command in a different way."

Faster than anyone could follow, Nick's hand was on top of the
Captain's. "Get out of here!" He ordered. "And evacuate the building.
This is a bomb."

"How can you be sure?"

"I recognized the sounds I heard on the tapes from the plane as music.
The same music that is coming from this box."

"It could be a coincidence."

"And if it's not, you're all going to be blown to Kingdom Come as soon
as I lift my hand."

"And you?"

Nick concentrated on Reese's heartbeat. "NOW!"

As Reese left, Schanke came in. "What's up, partner?"

"A bomb. Get out of here. Now."

"What about you?"

"This is something I have to do. You have a wife and a kid. I think
you understand, don't you? I could survive this. You and the others
don't have a prayer in hell." His eyes were a red-orange and his voice
had taken on a hypnotic tone. "NOW ... GET ... OUT!"

Schanke and the others assembled a safe distance from the building. As
soon as he was certain everyone was safely out, Nick lifted his hand.
He dove out of the window at the same instant as an orange fireball
enveloped the office.

Nat pulled up in the front of the precinct. She was out of the car
almost before it stopped. Schanke grabbed her and pulled her behind
the corner of the building

"What is it? What the hell's going on in there?" Natalie cried as he
pushed her down behind a parked car.

"There's a bomb in there. Nick's got it in Reese's office."

Natalie attempted to rise, but Schanke held her tightly.

"Nick! Nick!" She yelled. "We can't just leave him in … "

Just then, there was a huge fireball. Seconds into eternity later,
Nick staggered out of the flames and into Nat's waiting arms.

**********

Tracy parked her car in front of the abandoned church. This is where
Vachon told her he was staying, but it didn't seem possible. A vampire
living in a church? He had told her everything. Who he was and what he
was. At first, she didn't believe him, but that was the only
explanation of how he could have survived the explosion and crash
without any serious injury. After he had cleaned up, they had gone to
see a friend of Vachon's. Screed. Another vampire. This one lived in
the tunnels under the city. According to Vachon, he was a Carouche, a
vampire who drank animal blood. Apparently, Screed's main diet was the
rats and other small creatures that also inhabited the tunnels.

She mounted the stairs and looked around. The place was decrepit and
filled with miscellaneous junk and dust. "Hello? Anybody there?" She
called. Someone had to have been there recently, because candles were
burning "Anyone there?" Nervously, she pulled her gun. "Vachon?
Hello?"

A dark, oddly dressed man stepped out onto a balcony above her. He
leaped the railing, dropped down on her and grabbed her roughly.
"Donde esta el? (Where is he?)"

Tracy leveled her gun against his chest. "I'm a police officer. Step
back or I'll shoot."

When he made no attempt to release her, she fired at him point blank.
He flinched, but he did not fall. His eyes tuned a brilliant yellow
gold and fangs appeared from his upper teeth.

"Oh ... my ... God." She whispered loudly as the blood drained from
her face. She staggered backward a few steps.

He picked her up and held her aloft. "Donde esta el? Diga me antes yo
se muerta. Donde esta? (Where is he? Tell me before I kill you. Where
is he?)"

"I have no idea who you are talking about." Tracy said, her voice
quivering.

"My twin. Javier Vachon. I am Amaru. The Inca. And I will kill him
when I find him."

**********

It was a shaken Tracy Vetter that walked into the precinct that night.
Between Vachon ... and Screed ... and her encounter with the Inca, her
normally ordered and rather mundane world had been turned upside down
and inside out. < Vampires are a myth. Aren't they? > But she had
spent the day with two of them, and had been threatened and nearly
killed by another. And the most frustrating part was, she couldn't
tell anyone. She had made a solemn vow to Vachon in exchange for him
letting her live. Besides, who would believe her if she did say
anything? If she hadn't experienced it firsthand, she wouldn't even
believe her.

"Knight. Schanke. Vetter. In my office." Reese called from the door of
his temporary office. The maintenance crews had been working around
the clock, and had managed to clean up most of the damage from the
bomb, but there were still ladders, materials and paint cans
everywhere in the bullpen, and plywood still covered many of the blown
out windows and partitions.

"Knight, I know you and Schanke have been partners for some time."
Captain Reese said as the three sat down. "While partners usually
means a pair, I'm going to assign Vetter to work with you. Before you
go giving me any arguments, You are going to need all the help you can
get to track down this bomber, and Vetter can use the knowledge she
will gain from being with two experienced cops like you. Got that?
Good. Now, get me the bomber. And get him yesterday."

"I may have some information on that." Tracy said as they returned to
their desks. Until they could get her a desk, she sat in a chair on
the side of the other desks. "A ... uh ... snitch ... told me he had
seen one of the stewardesses carrying a box on the plane. He said it
looked like a music box. He said he had seen the man who gave it to
her as well."

"Who is this snitch. Get him down here so we can get a description of
the man. This may be our bomber." Nick said.

"His name is Javier Vachon." Tracy replied.

Nick swallowed hard. And turned even paler than he already was. Javier
Vachon was one of the regulars around the Raven. He played guitar in a
band that performed there on an irregular basis. He had a reputation
among the Community as a slacker and a ne'er do well. If Tracy knew
him, did she know who, or more importantly, what he was? "How did you
meet him?"

"Come on, Nick. You know that I can't reveal things like that. I
probably shouldn't have even told you his name." Tracy said. Nick
could tell that her heart was beating like a triphammer. "I'll talk to
him and try to get him down here, but don't hold your breath. He is
not the kind of person who has a very high regard for cops."

< And I'm going to have a VERY long talk with him, too. >

**********

He pushed through the crowd toward the broadcast booth where his
creator and master was broadcasting his nightly radio show.

"Black magic. Voodoo. Bombers in the sky. People kill people ... and I
don't know why." The lilting hypnotic sounds of the Nightcrawler came
over the crowd.

"What a piece of work is a man. How noble in reason. How infinite in
faculty. In form, in moving, how express and admirable he is. In
action how like an angel. In apprehension, how like a god. The beauty
of the world. The paragon of animals.

Why try to probe a murderer's mind? What do you hope to see? His
motive? His meaning? His secret dreams? You won't find a clue in mine.
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of this dust? Man delights
me... NOT... " Lucien LaCroix looked up as his son came toward him. He
queued a long playing album and motioned for him to come into the
booth.

"Who is Javier Vachon?" Nick asked.

"Who's the last man to play backup for Charo. Famous Javiers for 400,
please." He laughed as Nick's face took on a disgusted expression.
"You're losing your sense of humor as well." He said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, I believe I do know the man. Young
Spaniard. Irresponsible." He gestured across the room, to where a
scantily dressed blonde woman was dancing on stage. "She knows him
quite well."

"Who is she?"

"An innocent goddess named Urs. For the last century she's been
running with him and his mangy crew."

Nick waited until she had finished her number and then approached her.
"I understand you know Javier Vachon." It was not quite a question.

"He's not here anymore. He left a couple of days ago for parts
unknown. He heard the Inca was in town and he beat a path out of
here." Urs said as she sipped the drink that Miklos had set in front
of her. It was the 'house special'.

"He's still here. And so is the Inca. That's the good news. The bad
news is he might be involved with a friend of mine. And if anything
happens to her, he's going to have to answer to me. I need to find
him. Soon. Urs, please. Help me find him before he runs away again."

"Try the old church on Collier Street. That's where he stays when he's
in town."

Janette came out of the back. "I thought I heard Nicholah out here."
She said to LaCroix.

"You did. He was looking for that Spaniard. What's his name ...
Vachon?" He stared at his 'daughter' a few seconds. "I didn't expect
to see you here. I thought you had moved on . That you wanted to
reexamine your feelings about being a vampire."

"I did. And I have. I find that, unlike Nicholah, I'm perfectly happy
being a vampire. Besides, do you really think I'd give up the Raven?
It's been too much of my life for the past twenty years to let it go."

"And what about people noticing that you haven't aged?"

"I don't have that much contact with the mortal world. And if anyone
has noticed, they haven't said anything to me. I think I'll stay
around a little longer. After all, someone has to referee between you
and Nicholah."

**********

Nick hauled Vachon out of the shadows. He held the terrified younger
vampire aloft by his jaw.

"I told her everything I know about the crash, and then I let her go."
Vachon wheezed.

"She knows what you are?"

"She's a resister. She only knows about a friend of mine named Screed,
and only because I needed to see him about something. She wouldn't let
me out of her sight, so I had to take her with me. And she knows about
me, of course. I made her swear a solemn oath she wouldn't tell
anything to anyone."

Nick let go of his jaw, but the young vampire remained frozen in
place.

"She's your responsibility now. The rest of our kind will kill her if
they find out. Are you going to run away from her like you're doing
with the Inca? Your business with him is none of my concern. That's up
to you ... and your conscience. But what you do with Tracy IS my
business." The older vampire emphasized his remarks by allowing his
fangs to grow and his eyes to change. "The only reason you're alive
right now is because you let her go. If you want to take off, go
ahead. But there will come a day, Vachon. There will come a day when
you'll have to stop running away and live up to your word. It might as
well be now. Believe me, eternity is a long time to keep running."

**********

"So, Tracy, how long have you known this ... Vachon. And what sort of
a guy is he." Schanke said as they returned from dinner. He liked the
new detective immediately. She was young and relatively inexperienced.
He doubted that the ink was even dry on her Detective's Certificate.
Because of who her father was, she appeared to be an overachiever, as
though she had to be ten times better than everybody else just to be
considered mediocre. But he could see that she had all the right
qualities to make a first rate detective. In addition, she readily
accepted his invitation for dinner. After all the years that Knight
had turned him down ... even though he now knew the reason why ... it
still felt good to have someone to share a meal with.

"He's ... sort of ... well ... " Tracy stammered.

"What does he do for a living?"

"He ... well ... He's ... "

"A bum."

"No. He's a musician."

"Like I said. A bum. Tracy. I like you. You sort of remind me of the
kind of person I'd like Jenny to grow up to be. If this ... this
musician ... EVER hurts you. In ANY way. Tell me and I'll make sure
that he lives to regret it."

< I doubt that. He'd probably make a meal out of you if you even
tried. > "I trust him." She said, somewhat shakily.

"I don't."

**********

Carefully, he placed the ball of Semtex in the army surplus ammo
container. With a watchmaker's skill, he inserted the detonator cap
into the blue putty like mass. To this, he attached a remote timer.
They would learn that he didn't like to be told what to do. All of
them would learn. He showed the firemen in Seattle, the postal workers
in Montreal, and the City Council in Edmonton and now he would show
the police here in Toronto. Government people everywhere were nothing
but hard hearted bullies. They had arrested him for that apartment
house bombing when he had done nothing wrong. They didn't have enough
evidence to convict him, though. The owner deserved to be punished. He
had evicted him, hadn't he? He was once a government worker like the
others. Then they got the other government agencies to hound him. They
fired him because of the incident. Now they all would pay.

Dollard was an exception. Well, not really. He was going to ratfink on
him to the government, after all. And then there was the police that
were taking that scumbag to Vancouver. They had to learn. They all had
to learn.

Gingerly, he put the box with the rest in the duffel bag. One ball of
the explosive, along with a detonator, he packed into the base of a
ballerina music box.

**********

Detective Schanke was waiting outside the Raven for Vachon to take his
break. Tracy had said that he was playing there. He was easy to spot.
With his long hair and scruffy three day beard, he looked just like
Schanke expected him to look. He walked into his path as he exited the
back door. "You Javier Vachon?" He asked.

"Who wants to know?"

Schanke pulled out his badge. "Let's just say we have a mutual friend.
Tracy Vetter."

"I told her all I know. I've even agreed to come down to the precinct
and try to identify the bomber."

"That's not why I'm here. Tracy's a good lady. I want to make sure she
stays that way." Even though the detective was almost a foot shorter
than the musician was, he got right into his face. "Listen to me and
listen to me good." His face took on a hard, tough appearance. "If
anything happens to Tracy. If even so much as a hair on her head is
even mussed up, I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born. I'm
going to be all over you like stink on a skunk. Like ugly on an ape.
I'm going to be camping in your back pocket. I'm going to be closer to
you than your BVD's. You got that straight?"

"< What is this? Let's all gang up on the Spaniard week? First Knight
and now her mortal partner. >

"I said ... COMPRENDE?" Schanke grabbed his shirt.

For a brief second, Vachon's eyes yellowed. He quickly closed them and
when he opened them they were brown again. He nodded. "Comprende. Now.
Can I go back inside? The next set is almost ready to start."

**********

Vachon nodded as the police artist made minor modifications to the
sketch. "Yeah. That's him. That's the man I saw giving the box to the
stewardess."

"Good." Reese said, putting his hand on the man's shoulder. "Thanks
for coming down and helping us." He turned to the artist. "I want this
faxed to every precinct in the city as well as Provincial and RCMP. I
want copies in every post office and on every telephone pole between
the Yukon and Prince Edward Island. I want his face staring out from
every newspaper and TV screen in the country. In short, I WANT HIM!"

**********

Natalie was making some routine deliveries when Tracy walked into the
squad room, looking on top of the world. She was humming a lively tune
and waving and smiling at everyone she passed. This was in direct
contrast the shy insecure person who had come into the bullpen only
six days before.

"Oh, my God, Tracy, what are you taking?" Natalie said as she laid a
stack of reports on Nick's desk. "Whatever it is, I want some. Tell
me, Detective Vetter, have you always been this prone to extreme mood
swings?"

Tracy blushed noticeably. "Well, the most incredible thing happened to
me. Well, not exactly incredible, but at least good. The most ...
normal ... thing happened. I met this guy. This nice, everyday,
average guy. Gary Reynolds. Who just happens to be very... nice, and
extremely good looking."

"Does he have a job?"

"Underground engineer with the city, thank you very much. Works
nights, like me. And I'm supposed to call him when I get off, so we
can go out for breakfast." She fished Gary's phone number out of her
shirt, and showed it to Natalie.

"Normal, normal, normal." Tracy said with a smile.

"Normal is good." Nat said as she went to the next desk to deliver
another stack. "Oh dear, I'm beginning to sound just like your
mother."

"Mum's okay enough. It's Dad that's the pain in the butt." Tracy sat
down at her makeshift desk and put a shopping bag on the floor beside
her.

"Been out wearing out your credit cards I see." Schanke said as he sat
down at his desk.

"Oh no. That belongs to a friend of mine. I met him for coffee earlier
and he left it behind."

"You missed all the fun. Your ... snitch was in here a while ago and
ID'd the killer. According to the Most Wanted file, he is known only
as Vudu. No real name, and until now, no clear identification. Wanted
in connection with bombings in at least a half a dozen cities on both
sides of the border. Now all we have to do is find him."

"Knight! Schanke! Vetter!" Reese called as he hurried through the
squadroom. "With me!" He turned in the direction of the police lab as
the three fell in behind him. "Some swap meet dealer brought this in
twenty minutes ago. Bought it from a scavenger. Some homeless guy who
found it on a sewer pipe. Idiot thought it was a cellular phone
transponder."

They reached the lab, where a technician had disassembled the box and
had the components spread out on a table.

"You're sure it's Vudu?" Reese asked.

"Detonators are a positive match with the fragments that were in the
bomb from your office. And from the plane." The technician confirmed.
"This one contains enough Semtex to level a city block. About half a
kilo. We got a fax from Winnipeg in response to our queries. Ten days
ago thirty kilos of Semtex were stolen from a munitions factory there.

"Then he has enough for sixty of these?" Schanke asked the technician

"Yeah, about that."

"Sixty? Dear God." Reese turned a shade of grayish beige.

"He could level the entire city with that much explosives." Tracy
whispered loudly.

Back in the squad room, Reese was barking out orders to the assembled
precinct. "All right, let's get people off the streets. Out of the
subways. Let's clear all of the downtown apartment buildings and
hotels. Check the office buildings. We've got to get everyone out. Set
up search teams. The bombs could be anywhere, so let's start
underground since that's where the first one was found."

"I have a friend who's an underground engineer." Tracy said. "Let me
give him a call." She hurried to her desk and dug out 'Gary's' number.
"He might be able to help."

"I'll take the homeless guy who found it." Nick said.

"What about me?" Schanke called.

"You handle the coordination. You're good at that stuff." Nick called
as he headed for the door.

Schanke gave him the 'Why Me' look.

**********

'Gary Reynolds' flagged down a passing cab and got inside. "Take me to
the airport." He told the driver.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Vachon was suddenly leaning on the cab door
in such a way that the driver couldn't move.

"Hey, 'Gary' ... weren't you supposed to be meeting Tracy somewhere
around now?" He said to the passenger

In less time than a thought, Vudu hurled the cab door open and knocked
the Spaniard off balance, knocking him to the ground. He took off at a
run, cutting across the street. Vachon quickly picked himself up and
followed the bomber. Since there were others around, he had to limit
himself to human speed. As he darted into the street, a passing
vehicle broadsided him.

"Get out of the way!" He yelled as he cut around the car, but by now
Vudu had vanished.

Satisfied that he had lost the Spaniard, Vudu went to a nearby travel
agency, and made plans to leave Toronto. This time by rail. No use
pushing his luck. As he was about to leave, his cellular phone rang. "
Hello ... Oh hi, Tracy."

"Hi, Gary. Have you got a minute? I've got an emergency here."

"Sure. I can talk. I'm taking my break now." He lied. "Just finished
some structural inspections over on Bloor."

"We've got a really bad bomb situation on our hands." Tracy continued.
"The entire downtown area is in jeopardy. We think they may be hidden
underground. Maybe sixty of them. Blue metal boxes, about the size of
a cereal carton.

"Do they say 'City of Toronto' on them?" He asked.

Tracy had a surprised look on her face. "You know about them?"

"Yeah, I've seen a couple of them. I thought they were the new gas
monitors." Gary mentally scrambled to cover his tracks. "Meet me at
St. Patrick's Station, say in ten minutes. They're underneath there in
the heating tunnels. Hey, listen, I think I left my shopping bag at
the coffee shop. Did you happen to find it?

"Yeah, I did. Want me to bring it with me?"

"Sure." He turned off the phone and walked outside.

**********

"There's some bombs under St. Patrick's Station." Tracy called out to
the assembled officers. "My friend found them. I'm on my way there
now." She picked up the shopping bag and headed for the door.

"Tracy. Don't do anything stupid." Schanke called. "Like try to disarm
them. Wait for the bomb squad." He was too late. Tracy was out the
door almost as fast as his partner.

**********

Nick arrived at Screed's lair almost at the same instant as the Inca.

"Oh, this is wonderful. Give the Inca me fax number and me address on
the Internet while you're at it too." Screed said as he spotted the
two of them. "You're insane showing him this squat."

Nick saw another of the bombs sitting nearby. When he picked it up,
Screed grabbed it back.

"Getcher 'ands off me stuff." Screed scowled, holding it tightly to
his chest. "I finds 'em. I keeps 'em."

"You know where more of these are?" Nick asked.

"I ain't tellin' you skut, Copper."

"They're bombs. Screed."

"Yeah, and I'm your Aunt Charley."

"With enough Semtex in them to blow up a city block."

Screed quickly set the box on the crate that acted as a table and
hurriedly backed away. "Would that be the blue goo what's inside 'em?
And you say these boomers can do in a whole city block?"

"Yeah, and we need to find as many of them as we can."

"For two bills apiece?"

Nick sighed heavily. < If that's what it takes. > "Twist my arm."

Screed, Nick and the Inca began hunting the bombs. A few minutes
later, Screed handed a bundle of them to Nick. "That's ten of the
blighters. You now owes me twenty big ones."

The Inca arrived with more. Screed took them from him. "Graci ...has
me amy . . goo." He handed them to Nick. "And that makes seven more
you can add to me ayecount, you can."

The Inca looked at him with disgust and left to find more.

**********

Tracy walked to the plaza in front of St. Patrick's Station. She held
Gary's shopping bag to her. From his hidden vantage point in one of
the doorways, Vudu could see her clearly. As he dialed a number on his
cellular phone, the music box in the bag began to play. Just then,
Vachon set down in the plaza a few paces behind where the bomber was
concealed. With his enhanced sight, he spotted Vudu and in an
eyeblink, flew to him. He grabbed the mortal, slamming him back into
the wall.

"You're late." Vudu wheezed, out of breath from the attack.

"For what?"

"For this." Vudu drew a pistol and pressed it against Vachon's torso.
He pulled the trigger twice. The bullets slammed into Vachon's spine.
Temporarily stunned, he jerked backward and fell to the ground.

**********

Tracy cautiously took the package out of the shopping bag and stared
at it as the music box continued to play. Suddenly, Tracy made the
connection. Why hadn't she seen it before? How could she have been so
blind? Gary was the man in the sketch. Gary was Vudu. She took out her
cell phone and dialed the precinct number.

**********

Reese shifted the phone to his other ear and picked up his cell phone.
He pressed the speed dial number for Knight. "She's at St. Patrick's
and won't leave." He told Nick. "The bomb squad's on the way, but I
don't know if they'll get there in time, Knight. They're spread kind
of thin, what with all the other bombs."

"Tell her I'm just around the corner, and I'll be with her in less
than a minute, all right?"

"All right." He hung up the cell phone and relayed the instructions to
Tracy on the other one.

In the tunnel, Nick turned to Screed and the Inca and told them what
he had learned. "Keep looking." He said. "I'm going after Tracy."

Screed looked at him a few moments. "The det'nater's been set on them
thingies, and you expects me to find more of 'em? You're out of your
flippin' bloody mind, you are."

"Five big ones for each of them."

Screed thought for a moment. "Then again, I'm immortal after all. For
five hunnert, I s'pose I could take me chances."

Nick headed for the tunnel underneath St Patrick's Station. The Inca
followed him.

***********

Tracy sat on the bench at the entrance to the subway platform. The bag
containing the music box was beside her. She was still talking to
Reese on the phone. "It's kind of funny when you think about it. It
was right there in front of us. Woman cop. The Commissioner's
daughter. I was his perfect choice. I should have seen it. It's all my
fault."

"Tracy, please listen." Reese said. "You can't blame yourself. You're
a good cop. You carried yourself like a pro during one hell of a
week."

< You don't know the half of it. > " There's no more time, I'm driving
into the lake with it. No one going to come and rescue me, Captain.
I'm alone."

Vudu came up behind her, and pushed a gun into her back. "I'm here,
Tracy." He said softly, seductively. "Just like I said I'd be."

"He's here, Captain." Tracy whispered into the phone.

"Knight?"

"Vudu."

He took the phone from her and threw it to the ground and then stomped
on it. It shattered into several pieces. "Now, keep calm." Vudu
pointed the gun at the bag. "Open the box. I bought it just for you.
There's no way to disarm it. It's got a range of five miles and a
five-minute mainspring. I mean, it's some of my best work. So let's
just listen to the music, and wait for it to wind down." He sat beside
her, and tapped the box with the barrel of the gun. "Open it."

"So, how many bombs are there?" Tracy asked. Her hands shook as she
took it out.

"Fifty. Should be enough to level everything quite nicely."

Vachon walked across the plaza. He put his finger to his lips just as
Tracy called out his name.

Vudu turned to the vampire coming toward him. "You're dead!" He
shouted. "I shot you. Twice." He leaped to his feet and fired several
times.

Vachon flew forward and grabbed him. "You're Vudu. You're the one who
bombed the plane. You killed all those people." He said as he turned
the mortal's head to the side. His eyes became yellow as he sank his
fangs into the bomber's throat.

Vudu made a small, whining sound as Vachon drained his life away.

Nick hit the top step of the subway station at a run, his gun drawn.
The Inca was right behind him. Vachon tossed Vudu's lifeless body to
the ground, and retreated to stand beside Tracy, wiping the blood from
his mouth.

Nick eyed Vachon suspiciously.

"It's okay, Nick. He saved me." Tracy said, putting her arm around
Vachon's waist. Vachon smiled slightly and returned the gesture

"That's Vudu. That's your bomber." Tracy said, pointing to the body at
her feet. As she spoke, the spring on the music box began to wind
down. Vachon grabbed it from her.

The Inca reached for the box. "You have done your part, my brother.
Let me do mine. Our creator went to join Father Sun. I shall go to
Mother Moon." He placed his hands on his 'twin's' shoulders and gave
him a gentle kiss on each cheek. "The mandate of our creator has been
fulfilled." He took the music box from Vachon, and flew into the
evening sky. Far overhead, well out of range of the other detonators,
the timer reached zero and a fireball lit up the heavens. Everyone let
out a collective breath when none of the other packages exploded. The
Inca had done his part.

Vachon looked at Tracy, then walked over to Nick, standing over Vudu's
corpse. "Detective, I'm sure this must all be very confusing to you
..."

Nick gave the young vampire a puzzled look, but decided to play along.
"Yes it is. Very confusing."

Vachon imperceptibly gestured toward Tracy. Nick nodded, and continued
to play the role of confused mortal. "I want you to look in my eyes."
Vachon said in his best hypnotic voice. "Let me tell you what you will
remember ... and what you will forget... "

As Vachon finished his 'hypnosis', several squad cars and the bomb
squad pulled up to the curb. Schanke and Reese were the first ones
out.

"Thank you very much Mister Detective Nicholas Knight and Miss
Detective Tracy Vetter." Schanke said as he approached. "Thanks for
leaving me at the station under a mountain of paperwork while you two
were out here having all the fun."

Tracy looked at him steely eyed. "You call nearly being blown to
smithereens fun? If it wasn't for Vachon here ... "

"What exactly IS he doing here?" He looked at the Spaniard. "I thought
I told you to leave her alone."

"You WHAT?" Tracy said.

"Don't get all upset. I just had a little talk with him. To make sure
that he wouldn't hurt you in any way."

"And just WHO do you think YOU are, Detective Schanke? Who appointed
YOU my guardian angel? You're even worse than my father. At least HE
is a relative. I don't NEED anyone to protect me. In case nobody
noticed, I'm all grown up now. I'm a BIG GIRL! I can take care of
myself VERY NICELY, thank you." Fire blazed from behind her eyes and
Nick could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. "Vachon." She
said coldly. "Would YOU mind taking me back to the station? I think I
need some fresh air." She slipped her arm into his and led him to her
car.

Nick and Schanke watched as the two of them drove off.

"She's got some temper there." Schanke observed. "You'd think I did
something wrong."

"You didn't really read him the riot act, did you?" Nick asked.

"What's the big deal. So I threatened him a little. I mean I was just
trying to put a little fear of the lord into him."

"Schanke. He's like me."

"Don't give me that. He's nothing like you. He's a bum and a no good
... " Schanke's eyes went wide and he half choked as the meaning of
Nick's words sank in. "You mean he's a ... a ... "

"Vampire."

Schanke sat down hard on the bench. "Man o man. When I put my foot in
my mouth, I put it in all the way up to my Fruit Of The Loom's."

**********

Natalie pushed the door to the loft open and headed for the
refrigerator. She smiled as she opened it. At least there were as many
containers of protein shakes as there were bottles of blood. She was
glad she stopped at the Seven Eleven on her way, because, as usual,
there was nothing for a mortal to eat. She emptied the contents of the
grocery bag and slid a bag of Redenbacher Butter Lover's Premium into
the microwave. She jumped as Nick wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Got it?" He asked as he nuzzled her hair. Her scent filled him and he
basked in the fragrance of cinnamon and roses that was uniquely Nat.

"Of course. What's a movie night without a movie?" She held up the
clamshell.

"Animal House?"

"It was Schanke's idea."

"Oh well. A movie is a movie." He said as he gently took her arm and
led her to the couch. < At least I'm not going to be watching it. >

<Who's going to be watching anyway? > Natalie thought as she followed
him.

**********

Vachon sat in the loft of the church. He was idly strumming a tune on
a new guitar he had bought. < This song is soft and sensual. Sort of
like Tracy. > He smiled at that thought. < Maybe I might just enjoy
being responsible for her. >

At that moment, the object of his thoughts climbed the stairs. "Hey
Vachon. You're still here. Screed's place was empty, so I kind of
figured that you might have ... "

Vachon smiled broadly as he lay down his guitar and took both of her
hands in his. "He usually runs off to Vegas whenever he's got some
extra cash. He'll come back, though ... He always does. By the way.
Does Knight ... you know ... remember anything?"

Tracy wrapped her arm around his waist and willingly let herself be
led to the couch. "No. He doesn't remember a thing. I told everyone
that the Inca saved me from Vudu. That I ran into the subway station,
and when I came out, Vudu was dead, and the Inca and the box were just
... gone. They're chalking it up to weird luck." She took a deep
breath. "Look, Javier. About Detective Schanke. I mean ... He thought
he was only looking out for my best interests ... I wouldn't want you
to do anything ... you know ... "

Vachon smiled softly. "Don't worry, Tracy. I'm not going to do
anything foolish. I understand what he was trying to do. And I'm glad
you have friends who are willing to go that extra mile for you."

"I'm not worried. Um, look ... I ... " Tracy stammered.

"Maybe I could ... I mean maybe we could ... um ... I mean ... " He
took a deep breath. "Would you like to go to a movie with me next
Thursday? I understand that's your day off." He said, almost running
the words together.

"Then you're not going to leave?"

"Not for a long time." He put his chin on her head and took a deep
breath. < Apricots and Callia Lilies. >

"I'm glad you're staying, Vachon."

"So am I." Vachon pulled her to him and his lips found hers.

**********

Tracy pulled her scarf tighter around her face. The Icy winds coming
off the lake were especially cold this winter. She didn't mind that,
but being stuck in a car. On stakeout. On a lakefront pier. She did
mind. Especially at night.

The three had been temporarily assigned to Narcotics to help ferret
out a ring working in the city. Nick had gone undercover. He was
meeting with the big bosses tonight. A tagged shipment of drugs had
been closely monitored from Columbia through the Great Lakes to
Toronto. It had come in three days ago, marked as 'Farm Equipment'.
(Doesn't the mob have ANY imagination?) Now, they were only waiting
for them to be delivered to the street dealers. Their best sources
said it would be transferred tonight. A small army of police, RCMP,
and US and Canadian Coast Guardsmen stood at the ready a few blocks
away.

Don Schanke tapped at the window. He held up a Starbuck's bag and
indicated that she should open the door for him. He didn't have to ask
twice.

"Thanks." She said as she gulped the steaming elixir. "I really needed
that. How did you know?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson." Don said in a very bad English accent.
He took two creme filled donuts from the bag as well. "One, it's cold
out. Two, you're a cop. And three, cops and coffee and donuts go
together. It's our basic food." He handed one of the donuts to her.
"Chocolate or regular fill?"

"It doesn't matter." She took another sip of the coffee. "Any word
from Nick?"

"Not yet. He'll light the light when the time comes." He pointed to a
box with a string of small lights on it. Red meant something is wrong,
get in here ASAP. Yellow meant not tonight. Green meant GO FOR IT.
Nick had tiny corresponding buttons on his wrist watch. It looked like
something out of Bond ... James Bond. "There's no way we can contact
him without blowing his cover."

"I know ... Still ... "

"Trust him. After all a v ... an experienced cop like him can take
care of himself. You've been around us long enough to know that,
haven't you?" Don carefully watched Tracy's face to see if she caught
the slip. Apparently she hadn't. It had become almost normal for him
to think of Nick as a vampire. He didn't see the evil and depravity
that Nick did. He only saw what he had seen all along. Nick was his
partner ... and his friend.

Tracy thought for a moment. In the months she had been partnered with
them, she had learned so much. Not only about police work, but about
herself as well. She was no longer Tracy Vetter, The Commissioner's
Daughter ... She was simply Tracy Vetter. She had come into her own
right. She no longer felt she had to prove herself on a daily basis.
That made her much less prone to taking unnecessary risks and much
more confident in herself and her abilities.

Not that she hadn't taken her share of risks. Mostly stupid. Like that
Modeling Agency fiasco. If it hadn't been for Nick and Schanke, she
would have ended up in the lake like the other models.

It had shattered her belief that all cops were good and noble
protectors when she found out that her friend Bruce Spencer was using
tactics that were unethical, if not downright illegal to catch his
suspects. Again, Nick and Schanke had saved her from making a foolish
mistake.

Of course her appearance on that talk show was pushing things a bit.
She nearly gave Vachon fits when she insisted that he be in on the
action. Dumb! Dumb! Dumb! But then again, Reese had ordered her to do
the show. So in a way it was his fault, too.

And, although she was only trying to find a heart donor to help her
Uncle Sonny, her unauthorized queries had helped to crack the 'Missing
Hearts' case... and probably saved Natalie's life.

Then she had been instrumental in solving what she had called the
'Vampire Murders Case' without revealing to either partner that the
killer, Ellen, was really a vampire. That bought her grudging approval
from Vachon as well. She smiled. Not bad for a rookie detective.

"Penny for your thoughts." Schanke interrupted.

"Nothing actually." Tracy said. "Just doing a quick mental review of
the past few months. I really have to hand it to you guys. Reese was
right. I've learned so much from you two that I couldn't possibly have
learned anywhere else." Impulsively, she reached over and kissed him
lightly on the cheek. "Thanks."

Schanke blushed. "You're welcome." He whispered.

  
**********

Tony Solvino, the one they called the Solver, sat in the warehouse
office. He did not look like your typical hood. He was slight, almost
gaunt, with a monk's fringe of salt and pepper hair. A lone tuft of
hair stood straight up on the top of his head. That, and the huge
tortoise shell glasses he wore, gave him an almost cartoonish quality.
Except that this 'cartoon' controlled much of the drug traffic in all
of Ontario and parts of the surrounding provinces.

 

With help from Thomas Constantine, Nick had been introduced as Nick
Constantine, Thomas's 'nephew 'and a prominent member of the 'family'
in Richmond Virginia. According to Constantine, he was visiting here
to observe operations. A few well placed 'suggestions' by the elder
Constantine and they had accepted him without question into the upper
echelons of the ring.

Unlike other places this group had met, this warehouse was not
abandoned. It was relatively new and was obviously used as a
legitimate storage facility.

"Okay, everybody." Tony said to the crowd gathered on the warehouse
floor. As best as Nick could tell, every one of the high level dealers
were there. There were also dealers and representative from several of
the other rings and some from the 'Organization' on the other side of
the Lakes. "Everybody knows what they have to do. I don't want any
slipups. If we can pull this off, we will be in a position to control
everything that comes up the Great Lakes. That means more money than
any of us could possibly count. Not to mention the power. Now, Let's
get cracking. This stuff has to be out of here in the next hour."

Nick 'looked' at his watch. At the same time, he pushed the green
button.

**********

The precinct was justifiably basking in the limelight. The operation
had netted almost a billion dollars in uncut drugs as well as nearly
all of the dealers in the Toronto ring. In addition, there were
guaranteed to be numerous indictments handed down in both Canada and
the US as a result of the night's raid. Word was strong that
Detectives Knight, Schanke, and Vetter were being seriously considered
for a commendation from the Prime Minister.

"Again, Tracy was the one who provided a piece of key evidence."
Schanke told the group. "If her ... snitch hadn't told her about the
rumors on the waterfront, we never would have become involved." What
she didn't know was that Vachon had come to them first and that it was
their idea for him to go to Tracy.

"But if Detective Schanke hadn't recognized one of the suspects in the
Penderson killing as a drug dealer, and if Nick hadn't gone undercover
... " Tracy added.

"Well, while you two are busy attending this meeting of the Mutual
Admiration Society, I'm going to go over to the Morgue and see if the
reports on the Ellerton case are ready." Nick said. " While
everybody's standing around patting themselves on the back, somebody's
got to do some work around here." There was more than a hint of
laughter in his voice. He was rewarded with several wads of paper
striking his back as he 'covered' his head and made a show of running
for the door.

"Give Natalie all of our love, too." Tracy added, smiling at the
double entendre. Everyone knew that the Detective and the Coroner were
an item. The more they tried to deny it, the more obvious it was.

"Yeah. See Nickey go. Go to the morgue, Nickey. See the Coroner. See
Nickey make goo-goo eyes at the pretty Doctor." Schanke said.
Thankfully, Nick was already out the door and couldn't see him blowing
kisses into the air.

"I heard that, Schanke." Nick whispered to himself as he started the
Caddy.

**********

Natalie bent over the stack of reports on her desk. For some strange
reason, there hadn't been a homicide or unattended death in the
Toronto Metro area for several days. That meant no autopsies. This
gave Nat a chance to catch up on the never ending stack of reports in
her inbox. Although she tried to keep up as best as she could, she was
willing to testify under oath that they were breeding in the bottom of
the tray when no one was looking. She signed off and closed the
folder. Two more folders to go. Funny, the last time she looked she
could have sworn there was only one.

She picked up the top one and opened it. There was a large, very
flowery card covered with hearts and cupids. Inside, written in a
certain Detective's elegant hand was the following:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I'd like to watch a movie

With someone like you.

Nick

"Well?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She had not heard him come in or
seen him deposit the folder in her box. "DON'T ... DO ... THAT!" She
stammered as she tried to catch her breath. "One of these days you're
going to give me a heart attack!"

"Sorry." He said, brushing his lips against her hair, inhaling her
cinnamon and rose scent. He could hear her already racing heart
accelerate another few beats. He liked it that he could do that to
her. If he had been mortal, he had no doubt that his heart would be
racing at the same pace. "Well ...Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Come over tonight and watch a movie with me?"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Nick got an exaggerated look on his face as if he were pondering the
fate of the universe. Finally he smiled broadly. "Yeah!" He said in a
high squeaky voice. " ... A date."

This was the first time he had allowed himself to hint at his feelings
for the Doctor since LaCroix had abducted her last Valentines Day and
attempted to collect on his promise for Fleur. It tore him apart
inside that he could not show her how he felt, but the thought of
LaCroix finding out and either killing her or bringing her across was
too much to bear. He was grateful that he was able to erase the
incident from her mind. Normally he wouldn't have been able to
hypnotize Natalie, but LaCroix had drugged her and that made the
difference. At least she wouldn't feel the pain he felt every time he
looked at her.

Natalie's smile would have lit up the room without lights. Gradually
the memories of that night at the Azure had returned. She remembered
what he had done and why he had done it. She realized that if Nick
knew that she knew ... she didn't even want to think what would
happen. It was agony pretending that they were 'just friends' when
every fiber in her body and soul cried out that she loved him and she
could see in his eyes that he felt the same way. Now, almost a year
later, maybe, just maybe they had a chance to bring their feelings
back into the open. At least with each other.

"You're on. I get off at five. I can be at the loft at six?"

"Sounds good to me. By the way, I'm supposed to be here for the
Ellerton file."

She pulled the file from the stack. "Sorry to disappoint you, but from
what I could find, Nora Ellerton died just as her husband said. There
was no evidence that she had been pushed or thrown down the steps.
Everything is consistent with the fact that she slipped and caught her
foot on the throw rug at the top of the staircase. As far as I'm
concerned, it was an accident."

"Thanks, Nat. That dovetails with our investigation. It's never a
disappointment when a death isn't a homicide. In a way, it's a relief.
Although every death is a tragedy." He took the folder. "See you at
six." He kissed her cheek softly, but behind that kiss was the
definite connotation that it was not strictly platonic. He was gone in
a rush of air.

Natalie sat for several minutes, her hand on the spot where his lips
had been.

**********

Lucien LaCroix smiled.

His plans were working well. A well placed suggestion to a few members
of the Council that Nicholas was getting sloppy about revealing
himself to mortals had borne fruit. At any moment, Enforcers would pay
a call on his son. Either they would force him to carry out the
provisions of the Code and deal with his partners and the Coroner, or
they would burden him with the responsibility for all of them. A
responsibility that the elder vampire was certain Nicholas could not
assume. The three were just too strongwilled, and he knew that his son
did not have the necessary temperament to keep them in line.

If they attempted to make him carry out the Code, he would either have
to erase their memories, and since they were all resistors, that would
be nearly impossible, or he would have to kill them or bring them
across. He knew from past experiences that none of these options were
satisfactory, or even tolerable to the Crusader errant.

Regardless of which path Nicholas chose, he would eventually have to
come to his father for help. LaCroix would gladly help his son. For a
price. A very high price.

LaCroix smiled again.

**********

They sat on the couch in the darkened loft. It had surprised her that
Nick had chosen 'Ghost' as the movie. Normally, he tended to go with
comedies or the classics. Nat's choices were usually SciFi in nature,
the more vampires the better ... And any Humphrey Bogart movie. His
arm had gone around her shoulder within a few minutes after the movie
started. With each scene, particularly those that were 'mushy', he
edged a little closer. By now, they were snuggled tightly in each
other's arms. It felt good. It felt right.

< Maybe I should start bringing more romances if it gets this kind of
a reaction. > She thought as she leaned her head on his chest. She
could feel his head on hers and she felt him scattering not-so-
innocent kisses on her crown. She slipped her hand in the space
between the two edges of his shirt and toyed with the golden hairs
that were there.

On the screen, Patrick Swazye and Demi Moore were dancing for the last
time before he went to Heaven. He was holding her and caressing her in
the ways that Nat could only dream that Nick would do to her.

Suddenly, two huge men dressed entirely in black blocked the screen.
Nick bolted upright in the seat. Natalie did the same. Although he had
only mentioned them in passing, she was positive that these were
Enforcers. They were the most powerful creatures, vampires or not,
that she had ever seen.

He knew them. They were the same ones who visited him after Schanke
had found out.

The Middle Eastern one went to Natalie. "Sleep." He said. Nat's head
snapped to the back of the couch and her eyes closed.

"De Brabant." The other, the black man, said. It was something between
a hiss and a growl. "We have warned you."

"About what?" Nick asked. He tried to replay the months since Schanke
found out to see if there was anything amiss. There wasn't

"Another one knows." The Middle Eastern Enforcer continued. "Your
partner. Tracy Vetter."

"I did not tell her. She found out through someone else. And she does
not know about me."

"We know. Javier Vachon told her. Still, she is your partner."

"And I made Vachon responsible for her actions. I told him that if
there were any problems with her, I would kill him."

The Black Enforcer nodded. "And because of this, you will now be
responsible for both Vetter ... and Vachon as well. We will inform
Etrian of these developments. It is up to ... him ... to make a
judgement." He sounded as if that would not have been his solution to
the situation.

In the next instant, they were gone. On the TV, the credits were
scrolling up the screen.

**********

"Apenas un minuto condenado. (Just one damn minute.)" Javier Vachon
mumbled as he descended the stairs of the choir loft. It was nearly
dawn and he had just gotten to sleep when the pounding started. "Su es
golpear despertara el muerto. (You're knocking loud enough to wake the
dead.)" He grumbled. "Pero entonces, yo soy el muerto (But then, I am
the dead.)" He smiled at the joke as he opened the church door.

Tracy Vetter was still pounding, this time on his chest.

"Easy, there." He said, pulling her close to him. It was more out of
self preservation than anything else. She was still pounding
frantically. Her eyes seemed glassy and she didn't seem to realize
that the door was even open. Slowly, reality seemed to filter through
the haze.

"I'm sorry, Vachon." She said as she brushed an imaginary piece of
something off his muscular chest. All he was wearing was a pair of
jeans. "It's just after the horrible dream I just had, I couldn't stay
in my place. I had to be with someone. I hope you don't mind I came
here." She half sobbed.

"Not at all." < Queirda . > "Now, tell me about this dream that has
you so torn up." He said as he took her arm and guided her back to his
living quarters. "It must have been some kind of nightmare. I've never
seen you come this unglued before."

"I'm not even really sure it was a dream." Tracy continued. She sipped
at the glass of brandy Vachon had given her. It went a long way to
calm her frazzled nerves. "It seemed much too real. There was this
man. At least I think he was a man. He was big and black and he was
dressed all in black. He looked like what I think an Enforcer would
like from what you told me about them. Am I making any sense at all?"

"Yes." He whispered. "You are making sense. Go on."

"He was standing in my bedroom and he ... he said that he knew that I
knew about you. I mean about you being a ... a what you are ... a
vampire. He said that I, and the other mortals that knew about ... you
... were being watched and if I ... If we ... said anything, everyone
involved would be dealt with. He didn't say it, but I got the distinct
impression that it would be very painful ... if not fatal." She was
almost hyperventilating. "Does that mean there are others who know ...
what I know?"

Vachon nodded. "A few." He whispered almost inaudibly.

"And everyone is in danger because of what I know. I mean ... Do you
know what I mean? I mean ... " She held her head and began trembling
again.

Vachon put his arm comfortingly around her and gently rubbed her back.
He could feel the knots and muscles relax slightly. "Tracy. It's all
right. I promise you everything will work out." He said in the best
soothing voice he could muster. He knew what she meant. A pair of
Enforcers had visited him earlier in the night and they had told him
basically the same thing. He had given them his solemn promise that
Tracy could be trusted to keep their secret. They did not have to
remind of the consequences if she breached that secret. They reminded
him anyway. Graphically. It was a good thing vampires healed quickly.

Vachon continued stroking her back. He gently guided her head to his
shoulder. Softly, he began rock her back and forth and to hum a
lullaby. His mother had sung it to him when he was a little boy and
frightened of the monsters that inhabited the spaces under his bed.
That, and the brandy, gradually took effect. He watched as the tension
left her face and her eyes slowly closed. Her breathing became relaxed
and regular. Tenderly, Vachon lowered the sleeping Tracy to the couch.

His heart ached for her. She looked so innocent and angelic in her
slumber. She shouldn't have to go through this kind of hell because of
him. < Maybe I should have run when I had the chance. Too late now. >
As he stood up, she began to toss and softly cry, much like a small
child. He fished the blanket from his bed and gently lay beside her
and pulled the cover around the both of them. Her arms enfolded him
and she snuggled against his chest. The whimpering slowly subsided as
she cuddled her vampiric safety blanket. Eventually, his eyes also
closed.

**********

Natalie woke with a start. She did not completely remember what had
happened after the Enforcers arrived in Nick's loft. Something about
her ... and Schanke ... and Tracy and Vachon, but she wasn't sure.
Regardless, when she woke, the mood had been broken. Nick was
especially distant. Not that she blamed him. She was on edge, too.
They both agreed that it would be best if she returned to her
apartment.

She gasped as one of the shadows moved and became the shadow of a man,
or more precisely, a vampire. The next instant, the Middle Eastern
Enforcer was standing in front of her. "Doctor Natalie Lambert. We
have been watching you and others very closely." He said. For all the
emotion, he could have been reading from a script. "You know about the
Community and many of its members. This is not a good thing."

"You're an Enforcer, aren't you?" She asked. She tried not to let her
fear show ... too much. That was not an easy task, considering that
she was trembling like a leaf. "You are one of the one's that was in
Nick's loft earlier this evening. You're here to kill me, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am an Enforcer." He said. "And no, I am not here to kill you,
merely to warn you."

"Aren't you supposed to kill those who know about the ... about
vampires?"

"You ask many questions for a mortal."

"I figure if I'm going to die, I may as well have all the answers."

The Enforcer's face softened and he gave a slight smile for a fraction
of a second, but only for the smallest fraction. Then the hard
emotionless face was there once again. "You are indeed a most unusual
mortal, Doctor Lambert. To answer your question. We protect the
Community by whatever manner is necessary. In some cases, that means
killing, or bringing the mortal across. In other examples, it means
wiping the minds of those involved of any knowledge of our existence.
In some rare instances, such as yours, and those of your ... friends,
it serves our purposes to let you remain as your are, but under strict
observation. You and your colleagues can, and have, rendered many
services to the Community, and you have seen to it that our secret has
not been revealed. This is the reason you are still alive ... and
still mortal. Do not say or do anything that would change that."

He melded back into the shadows and there was the characteristic
whoosh of air that signaled that he had gone.

As Natalie pulled the covers tightly around her throat, she felt the
large lump next to her that was Sidney, sinking his claws into her
right foot. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Gently, she
pulled the quivering feline from his hiding place under the covers at
the bottom of the bed. He immediately velcroed himself to her. "It's
all right, Sid." She said as she gently stroked his head. "He isn't
going to hurt you. I promise." She wasn't sure if she was telling that
to the cat or to herself.

**********

"NO!" Lucien LaCroix seethed. Etrian merely sat unemotionally in the
leather chair across from him. Etrian had come to the apartment above
the Raven at Lucien's request. "The Enforcers are supposed to uphold
the Code. Not stand idly by while it is being intentionally broken."

"Do NOT tell me what to do, Lucius!" Etrian snapped. His fangs poked
from beneath his upper lip. His eyes were gold rimmed. "I ... govern
the High Council, not you. I ... will decide what the Enforcers do or
do not do, not you. I DO NOT appreciate your going behind my back to
the other members of the Council. IS THAT CLEAR?" The two Enforcers
standing by the door advanced toward the General, but a withering
glance from the Ancient stopped them in their tracks.

LaCroix merely nodded. "Things have changed since the last time we
talked." He said softly.

"Nothing has changed. As I said before, We are watching the situation
carefully. Vetter seems to be as trustworthy as the others. She will
be treated the same as the others. Are we in agreement?"

LaCroix again nodded. He was not happy. He would go along with the
Ancient. Only because he had no choice in the matter. For now. Sooner
or later, though, someone would step out of line. Then he would have
his opportunity.

"Very good, my friend." Etrian smiled. His fangs had receded and his
eyes were no longer yellow. "I would not like to think that our
friendship could be destroyed by such a petty matter as this. Now. Do
you have any more of that exquisite vintage available?"

**********

Don Schanke brushed the invisible speck of dust from his plaque. Nick
and Tracy also had theirs. The award ceremony, thankfully, was held
indoors so Nick could attend. As with most 'official' functions, it
was long and boring. "Now that's something we can all be proud of." He
said as he fingered the engraved message on the Commendation.

Presented to

Donald G. Schanke

Nicholas B. Knight

Tracy A. Vetter

On behalf of a grateful nation

For their outstanding contribution to

Law Enforcement

It was signed by the Prime Minister and the Minister of Public Safety.

In addition, there was a healthy cash award, and Reese had thrown in a
two week paid administrative leave for the three of them.

"What about you, Tracy? What are you going to do with your awards."
Nick asked.

"Well, ... a ... friend of mine ... has a gig in St. Louis next week.
I thought I'd go there and listen to him play."

"That wouldn't be Vachon, by any chance, would it?" Schanke asked.

"NO!" Tracy said, a little too loud and a little too quickly. "It's
... It's ... " Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shook her head. "Yes.
It's Vachon." She said softly, hanging her head slightly.

Schanke put his arm around her and pulled her face up. "Don't worry,
Trace. My opinion of him has changed completely from my first one. In
the past few months, he hasn't ... done anything ... that would hurt
you ... or anything like that. Maybe, just maybe he might turn out to
be an all right guy after all."

Tracy's face lit up. "Thanks, Don. I'm glad you changed your mind. He
really is a pretty nice guy once you get to know him."

"I agree with Schanke. Vachon is ... living up to ... expectations."
Nick added.

"You know, Nick. You haven't said what you are going to do with your
time off." Tracy chided.

"Nothing."

"NOTHING?" They both said at the same time.

"To me that's the best vacation of all. Oh, I might invite Nat to come
over and watch movies or maybe take her to a play or a concert, but I
fully intend to take this time and just do nothing."

"And you, Schanke? What are you going to do?"

"I've been wanting to take the entire family on a holiday. You know
that trip to Aruba, well Myra and I sort of used that as a second
honeymoon. This time, we're going to take Jenny with us. And I don't
mean to Myra's mother's place in Nova Scotia. Now with the award and
the two weeks off we can really take a real honest to goodness
holiday. I've already set the plans in motion. We're going to Disney
World. See you all in two weeks. Hasta La Bye Bye."

**********

The end?

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