Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001

Note: The characters from "Forever Knight" belong to Sony Tri-Star.
The characters from "Xena Warrior Princess" belong to Renaissance
Studios and StudiosUSA..  The characters and scenarios from "The
Mummy" and "The Mummy Returns" Belong to Universal.  All other
characters and situations are fictious and are of my creation.  Please
feel free to send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com .

Thanks to Emily and to Jarvinia for their beta reading.

Preface [Queen's Hut, Amazon Village]

Gabrielle, Bard-Queen of the Amazons, writes....

After a great deal of build up, the fateful meeting between David and
Dijon finally took place.  One would never have guessed, however, at
the related events to that encounter.  Nor what would follow it.

Chapter 1 [Dijon, Burgundy, France]

The late Spring skies crackled with lightning and smelt of the
drenching rains falling from the sky.  In a display which would have
made Hollywood's best special effects gurus green with envy, the storm
produced a kaleidoscope of light, cannon-like sound bursts, pelting
downpours, and a howling wind whipping through the streets.  Despite
the break from the recent unseasonable heat wave, most of the city's
denizens stayed in their homes, choosing to remain dry and secure
while awaiting calmer weather.

In the midst of the city, the Palace of the Dukes and Estates of
Burgundy stood tall and majestic.  Built to withstand sieges and heavy
military activity, the granite stones shrugged off the wind and water
on that evening just as they had for centuries.  The tour groups had
come and gone with the sunset and the brewing storm, leaving the
facility alone with its decorations, battlements, and ghosts.

About 10PM, a commanding figure descended from the unsettled skies.
Looking all around, he made sure that nobody was in the area.  When he
felt safe, Bertrand du Dijon stepped out of the shadows.  As much as
he detested having to skulk around his ancestral home, the Enforcer
knew that it wouldn't be prudent to run into a gaggle of mortals on
any of his visits.  "If my father knew how the rabble were trampling
through his home, he would have them all slaughtered on the spot!" he
exclaimed angrily.  Producing a heavy iron set of keys, he unlocked an
oak door on the southwest side of the facility.  As the door creaked
open, a musty smell wafted up to meet him.  To most people, this
door's purpose had remained a mystery for the previous 350 years.  But
to the vampire, its purpose was crystal-clear: to keep the peasants
out.

Descending the stone staircase, Dijon made his way through the narrow
passages, pressing deeper and deeper into the Earth.  After a half-
hour hike, he stood before another heavy wooden door.  Using yet
another iron key, the former mercenary let himself into the inner
chamber.  Once inside, he used his enhanced vision to take in the
entire room.  Surrounding him, the stone sarcophagi of his ancestors
presented an impressive sight.  "Bon soir," he greeted.  "It is I,
Bertrand, who has been too long gone from this place."  Not expecting
an answer, he inspected the coffins, wiping dust off a few of them,
and recalling the people who now slept there.  His father, Jean, had
ruled this region with an iron hand, influencing policy decisions from
England to the edge of the Christian world, and, through his alliances
with England and then, with France, determined the outcome of that
series of conflicts which those academic fools liked to call "Le
Guerre d' Cent Ans" or "The Hundred Years War".  His brother,
Phillippe, was aggressive but fancied himself invincible until his
untimely defeat and demise at Lake Constance by the Swiss.  With him
went the past glories of the duchy.

"If only you had not listened to that upstart Charles," the vampire-
knight hissed to his father's tomb.  "I would have been here to keep
our fortunes afloat."  As he said those words, his mind drifted
back...

*****

[Fall, 1443]

Bertrand du Dijon hurried past the servants toward his father's master
chamber.  In his mind, he wondered why he had been recalled from the
battlefield.  In that regard, the mercenary had been a huge success,
mopping up both French and English opposition wherever he found them. 
However, he wondered about his father's policy.  Since the French
fortunes had risen, the latter was trying to get on the side of their
so-called king, Charles, much to his son's chagrin.

Knocking on the door, he asked, "Father?"

"Bertrand?" the other replied.

"Oui," the knight answered.

"Come in," Jean bade.

The younger man entered impatiently and strode up to the table where
his father sat waiting for him.  The room was covered in luxurious
trappings: tapestries, a fine bookshelf, carpeting, and a gigantic
stone fireplace off to the side.  

Behind his table, Jean du Bourgogne gave his son an imposing stare.
Even though his hair was turning snowy-white, his face worn heavily by
time's passage, and his gait hobbled by old war wounds, the Old Man
still commanded the respect of his offspring and wouldn't be
questioned on any point.  "We have a problem, my Son," he noted.

"What problem is that?" Dijon demanded.  "Our armies are winning in
the field.  The cloth factories are producing well.  Our blockades are
cutting into English exports.  Tell me, what is the problem?"

The older man smiled.  Sometimes, his son could be so dense and not
see the forest for the trees.  "And what about our diplomatic efforts,
hmm??  While you've been out achieving glory on the battlefield, I've
been negotiating," he reported.

"Those diplomats talk too much.  They'll addle your brain," the knight
scoffed.  "Besides, what did the French Dauphin...er...king have to
say for himself this time?"

Jean bristled and slammed his fist angrily on the table.  "Charles is
the French king, and you would do well not to forget that!  Any claim
that the English might have had is no longer viable.  Besides, you
have been the cause of much debate in those circles as of late."

That comment got Dijon's attention.  "Me?  And why is that?  I haven't
done anything to those fools in 15 years at least!" he laughed.

"It is what you and your troops did at Compeigne and Rouen, Bertrand. 
You and your English allies," his father sighed heavily.  "You
committed a massive faux pas in judgment."

The son scanned his memories of those places.  In 1430, he had only
recently become a knight.  Against his father's wishes, Dijon had
volunteered to serve with his older brother, Jean du Bretage, at
Compiegne.  There, they had defeated the French and captured their
miraculous leader, Jeanne d'Arc.  After two years with the woman, the
English burned her in Rouen's old marketplace as a witch.  Ever since,
people had looked at him with scorn.  Of all of his fellow soldiers,
he remembered one mysterious Brabantine, Nicolas, who had soundly
criticized him before and after the execution.  "Weaklings.  All of
them," he snarled.

"Nevertheless, they are now in control of things.  You have become a
hindrance and a marked man, Bertrand," Jean advised him.  "What should
I do with you?"

The knight shook his head furiously and cracked, "They think they can
kill me, do they?  Well, let them try!  I was perfectly within my
rights to sell her to the English as I did.  Besides, your precious
king failed to ransom her.  Let him worry about it.  Besides, what
would you do to me?"

The older man shook his head furiously and growled, "Don't be so
stubborn.  Do you think that I want to tell you this?  You are my son,
my flesh and blood.  I am trying to save your life."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Jean scratched his chin and started, "The Pope is putting together a
crusade to stop the Turks.  He has offered to let you be one of the
leaders."

Dijon laughed in disbelief.  "Me?  Lead a crusading army?  Surely,
you're not taking this seriously, are you?"

"I am," the other man gravely asserted.  "And I am telling you to do
the same.  My only other option is to cast you out."

"Cast me out?  But, I'm your son!  You can't do that!  Don't tell me
that damnable agreement is that important to you!" Dijon spat.  Seeing
his father's continued earnestness, he roared, "It is that important
to you!"

"The family must survive, Bertrand.  If you so choose, you may leave
for Rome immediately with my leave," the elder man informed him,
punctuating his statement with an air of finality.

The younger man arose in disgust.  "So, you think you can save
yourselves by sacrificing me?  Well, I'll outlive all of you!  Do you
hear me?  I'm going to fight as you've asked me to, but I'll be back
to see you in your grave!" he bellowed.  Picking up his sword, he
stormed out of the chamber and out of the castle.

Jean sighed heavily and a tear formed in his left eye.  How he wished
that Bertrand would understand that he was being forced to do this
act.  "My Son, be careful what you wish for.  May God watch over you,"
he continued wistfully to the empty chamber.

**** 

[Modern Day]

Dijon studied his father's tomb once again.  His boast had indeed come
to pass through a weird twist of fate.  While fighting in the East,
the Crusading army faltered badly against the Ottoman Turks.  Slipping
away from the field, he had tried to find passage back to Europe.
However, in Istanbul, the vampire who became his master, Ali, brought
him across.  From that point on, he had learned about the way of the
vampire and then, the way of the Enforcer.

"I told you, Old Man," he smiled to the cold stone slab.  "And I will
triumph over the last of my enemies as well.  The Brabantine knight
and a particularly infuriating mortal will both die before I'm
finished!  Rest assured of that!"

Sensing that the sun was about to rise, the former knight settled
himself on the floor to wait out the day.  The battle would come soon
enough for his liking....


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1.  Additional notes: The argument
between Xena and Cybelle took place in "The Die is Caste" from the
"Amazon Scrolls" series.  Also, the last run-in between Dave, Angie,
and Stuart Dubois took place in "The Honeymoon" earlier in this
series.

Chapter 2 [Amherst, MA: The Next Morning]

Cybelle scratched her head perplexedly.  Her packed suitcase sat on
the bed.  The coffee maker and stove were both turned off.  The house
was in order.  Still, she felt as if something needed to be done.
"What is it?" she wondered.

"What is it, Auntie?" Deirdre inquired, entering the room and looking
about.  

"It's nothing, Deirdre," the elder priestess advised.  "I'm just
making sure that everything's done before we leave."

"As far as I can tell, you got everything finished.  And Grandma
Dubois has Jonny.  But, where is Uncle Matt?  I heard you two arguing
last night," her niece noted.

Cybelle sighed heavily.  Just the night before, she and her husband
had argued about her newly adopted lifestyle and its implications.  He
had demanded that she be a simple housewife.  She refused, citing her
right to do what was best for all concerned.  Earlier, he had stormed
out the door, speeding off in his truck.  "Your uncle and I had issues
to resolve.  Now, come.  I hope to be gone before he comes back."

The younger woman nodded in agreement.  The last thing she wanted was
to witness another argument.  She still remembered her aunt's dispute
with Xena back in the Amazon village concerning her father and
grandfather and had no wish to see the former's temper flare again.
"Bad enough that Papa's upset," she mused.

At that moment, they heard a car screech to a halt outside followed by
two doors slamming.  A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

"Cybelle!  Get in here!" Matt demanded.

"Not now!  I've said everything that I'm going to say!" she bellowed.

"Stuart, I told you she was being unreasonable!" her husband stated.

Stuart Dubois snorted indignantly, "Stay here.  I'll deal with this." 
Despite all of his efforts, his children were a grave disappointment. 
He wasn't about to let his daughter stray down this fool path and
wreck everything that she and her husband had created for themselves. 
Clomping loudly through the living room and down the hallway, he
barged in on the two priestesses.  "What is this crap?" he demanded.

"None of your concern, Dad.  Just leave us be," Cybelle told him,
turning her back to him.

" 'Dad' ? " Deirdre whispered fearfully, staring at the intruder and
quaking.  

"You'll face me when I'm talking to you!" he roared, seizing Cybelle's
arm.  

His daughter wrenched her arm free and spat, "Since when did you ever
have anything worthwhile to say?"

"Why, you!" he growled and backhanded her hard across the face.

Deirdre quaked with terror.  This man was her grandfather.  The one
who had terrorized her father, forcing his personality to split into
two parts.  He was almost akin to the Boogey Man at least from what
her sisters had related to her.  Despite these feelings, she made
herself stand tall and firm.  No matter what their relationship, the
man had no right to touch an Althanorian priestess.  "Leave her
alone!" she challenged.

"Who are you?" he snarled low.  "Another freak?  You aren't worth my
time!"

"Keep...keep away from us!" the younger woman directed.

"Right," he chuckled in disbelief.  "Make me, little girl."  Before
she could react, he crossed the room and pushed her back into the
china cabinet.

Landing awkwardly, the young priestess tried to stand again, but her
ankle protested the action.  "By the goddess, I've sprained it," she
grimaced.  Worse still, she had cut her hand on the cabinet's
splintering glass.

Fortunately for her, the elder man had forgotten about her for the
moment.  Summoning all of her concentration, she created a portal and
crawled toward it.

To her own credit, her aunt managed to create one windblast, driving
the attacker backward.  But, due to her condition, it wouldn't last.
"Go!" she told her niece.  "Get help!"

Deirdre nodded and reluctantly disappeared into the mist.  

******

[Tucson]

In the predawn darkness, everyone in the Dubois household slept
fretfully.  The impending situation prevented anybody from getting any
extended sleep.  Still, they managed to doze off and on, managing to
gain some rest.

Dave stirred at about 4:30AM.  Something wasn't right.  "But then
again, when is it these days?" he wondered impatiently.  Still, this
feeling was different from the rest of the situation.  Pondering the
feeling for a second, he discerned that it was coming through the
mental link he shared with his sister.  Something was happening back
in Massachusetts at that very moment.

Angie blinked her eyes in the darkness beside him and asked, "Dave?
What's going on?"

"Nothing that I can tell," he fibbed, trying not to worry her.

She elbowed him in the side and declared, "You know what I'm getting
at.  I'm feeling something in my head.  Something's going on."

He sighed in frustration.  If his wife felt it too, then something was
definitely wrong back there.  "I'm going to check on the girls.  Be
right back."

She nodded earnestly.  As with her husband, she knew they didn't need
anything else to deal with right now.  "Hurry back, okay?"

"You betcha," he agreed, walking out into the front room.  On the
couch bed, he heard Steve snoozing away.  Across the room, Karen slept
restlessly on an air mattress.  Then, he felt a powerful shove pushing
at him.  "What is going on?" he whispered.

Then, he felt Deirdre's pain followed by Cybelle's duress.  Grasping
his head, he started to stagger across the room.

"Papa!  Mama!" Lauren and Karen screamed from their room.

"That cinches it!" their father growled, rushing into the other
bedroom.  "Girls, are you all right?"

The nine-year old twins nodded reassuringly.  

"We are, Papa," Karen advised.  "But, Dee-Dee's hurt!"

"I...I know," he concurred, wincing at the throbbing in his head.

At that moment, Angie, Karen, and Steve barged into the room.  

"Dave, what's going on?" the oncologist wondered.  "I can feel Cybelle
and Deirdre."  Hurrying over to the bed, she tried to comfort their
daughters.

The medievalist felt the pain getting worse.  Soon, it would be
unbearable.  Then, the spasms started again.  "No...not...now."

Karen rubbed his shoulder concernedly.  The last thing they needed was
for the Child to take over.  "Calm down, it's going to be okay," she
tried to soothe.

"No...not all...right," he snarled.  "Somethin' bad's goin'...on."
Trembling on the brink, he gripped the side of his daughters' dresser.

At that moment, mist poured into a corner of the room, forming into a
shorter version of the familiar column.  From that portal, Deirdre
crawled laboriously into the room.  "Am I home?" she asked fearfully.

Angie rushed over to her daughter's side and recoiled at the sight of
the latter's condition.  "Deirdre?  What happened?" she demanded,
embracing the injured woman.

"Mama...it was awful," she whimpered, rubbing her ankle.  

"Who did this to you?" Dave demanded.

"Now, Papa...please," the priestess advised.  "It wasn't Auntie's
fault."

"What wasn't her fault?" the elder Karen pressed.

The twins gasped.  "Bad man with Uncle Matt.  Big man."

"Who?" Angie asked.

"There was an...argument this morning.  Uncle Matt drove off and came
back," Deirdre sobbed,  "We were hoping to be gone before that, but he
brought company."

"And this man...did this to you?" her father pushed with increasing
fury.  "Who is it?  Your mother asked you a question."

"It was...Grandpa.  Aunt Cybelle called him...'Dad'," she confessed
and broke down in a teary fit.

Both Karen and Steve glanced nervously at their former classmate,
anticipating the eruption, which was about to occur.

For his part, Dave shook violently, gasping for air, growling in rage
and anger.  Turning to his daughter, he snarled, "And he did this to
you?  Answer me!"

"Dave, stop it!" his wife lectured although she knew the words were
futile.

Deirdre winced again.  "Arrgh, he's still beating on Auntie!  Papa,
make him stop!" she cried.

"And he did this to you?" her mother asked.

"Yes," she whispered low.

The oncologist felt a surge of anger within herself.  For once, she
shared her husband's fury.  She still remembered how her father-in-law
had treated her on the day after the wedding.  Now, the miserable
lowlife was wrecking more damage.  "I should let Xena handle this
one," she told herself, starting to reach for her sword.

But, before she could act, Dave darted through the dissipating mist,
leaving everyone scrambling to find a way after him.

****

[Amherst]

Dubois watched his daughter stumble away from him and exclaimed,
"Hopefully, this will teach you some manners!"

"Go to Hell," she muttered.

"What!  I'll teach you!" he bellowed, swiping again at her.  "I never
taught you anything about this garbage!"

She raised her head slowly.  From within her daze, she sensed
something familiar.  Her eyes bulged.  "No, not him!  Not now!"  

"Who now?" the enraged man laughed.  "Hey!  You out there!  Take a
number and I'll deal with you later."

"Oh, I think you'll see me now, Asshole," a voice snarled.

Dubois smiled and turned to face the newcomer.  "Well, well, if it
isn't the Prodigal Son.  I was wondering when I would run into you
again."

"I would have to be sorry if I were to be a Prodigal," the professor
growled, advancing on the other.  

"Where's the other one?  Did she go crying to you?" the older man
baited.

Cybelle interjected, "Dad, don't push him!"

"Why not?  What's he gonna do?  Breathe on me?  He wouldn't dare!"

"Try me.  That was my daughter you manhandled!" the younger man
snarled.

His father swung his fist at the enraged professor, but came up empty.
"Stand still!" he roared.

"What?  And let you deck me?" the younger man snickered darkly.  "I
don't think so."  His left eye glowed with a yellow hue.  "It's time
you learned a lesson for a change." 

The elder Dubois laughed incredulously, "And what are you...?"  Then,
he felt himself being lifted off of the ground.  "What?  What's going
on?"

"Just the garbage you taught to me," his son informed him in a voice
dripping with rage.  "I warned you before.  Lay a hand on my family,
and I would take it out on your hide.  You just wouldn't listen, would
you?  Time for you to learn your lesson!"  With a flicker of his
eyebrow, he flung his father through the air and against the nearby
wall.

"H...How?" the attacker wondered in amazement.  "Th...That's
impossible!"

Dave smiled wickedly and closed his eyes, allowing the Child to
surface completely.  "Nah.  Not for us.  'Sides, I'm proud of Big
Brother for smackin' ya," the latter replied confidently.  

Cybelle shook her head fearfully.  Bad enough that she couldn't
intervene, but now, he had released his darker persona.  Given how
Dave felt about their father, she feared the worst.

Dubois quaked furiously and managed to stand.  "You always did like
dramatics. I'll break you of that!"

The Child hissed, "Ya'll try!" Dropping his shoulder, he rammed the
older man in the chest, pinning him against the wall.  "Now, listen
up!  I would love nothin' better than to end this permanently, but
then, I would be like ya.  Go ahead! Call us freaks again!  I dare
ya!"  Going nose to nose with his father, he spat, "Take a good look
at your handiwork!"

Dubois stared into his son's enraged eyes and stiffened at the sight. 
"My...God.  You...you," he stammered.

The Dark One snickered with grim satisfaction.  After years of pain
and suffering, that priceless look made everything worthwhile.  "Yes,
me.  Ya created me!  And how does that make ya feel?"

"Get away from me!" the other man protested, managing to push the
Child back and freeing himself.  Reaching into his pocket, he took out
a pistol and aimed it.  "I'll kill you!"

The injured priestess shouted, "Stop this!"

"Tell'im to put it down," the Child shrugged.  "He's the fool here,
not me."

For a brief second, Dubois hesitated.  Then, he fired the weapon.
"Something as warped as you doesn't deserve to live."

The other man erected a psychic shield, easily deflecting the
projectile.  "That was your last chance, Old Man," he growled,
advancing on his father.  "C'mere.  I owe ya a whooping!" 

Suddenly, a whirring noise split the air, and a silver blur cut
between the two men. 

"Crap!  Xena, this is my fight!  Leave us alone!" the Child roared.

The Warrior Princess caught her chakram and strode purposefully into
the room.  "And if you kill him?  Tell me, what purpose will that
serve?" she asked.

"He needs to pay!" he bellowed indignantly.

"And he will," she advised him.  "But, you can't step over that line. 
He will answer for what he's done.  Don't make me have to fight you as
well."

"Like ya would," he snarled.

The Thracian warrior arched her right eyebrow and indicated, "If I
have to, I will."  Drawing her sword, she stood ready for combat.
"Don't make me do this."

Steve yelled from the hall.  "Dave, listen to her!  I made a call to
the State Police and they're coming!"

"Good.  They'll arrest him," the elder Dubois huffed, climbing to his
feet once again.

"They're coming for you," the FBI agent indicated.  By now, the sirens
were approaching quickly.  "Dave, let him go!"

The Child snorted and laughed, "Too bad. Old Man, stay out of my way."
With that, he concentrated, allowing Dave to resume control.

"What?" he wondered, looking about the room,  "I'm back."  Glancing at
his friends, he noted, "Thanks, Xena for reminding You Know Who about
his obligations."

"My pleasure," the warrior concurred.  "Now, let's go.  I have no wish
to run into the authorities."

"Right.  Take off," he indicated.  "You can tell Angie it's okay to
come here."

Xena smiled knowingly.  Even half-dazed, he could still plan on his
feet.  Giving the elder man a stern look, she asked, "Cybelle?"

"Yes," the priestess agreed, willing up a portal.  "Tell Angie we
could use her here."

"Indeed," the Warrior Princess concurred while stepping into the mist.

Sensing that the police were about to arrive, Cybelle managed one more
spell.  Even though she was still clad in her priestess robes, the
officers would see her as a normal woman.

Steve nodded in approval.  Hopefully, Stuart Dubois would finally get
his just desserts this time.  Meantime, he needed to keep the elder
man there.  "Mr. Dubois, I'm placing you under arrest."

"Right," Dubois cracked.  "And who are you pretending to be,
Petersen?"

Steve bristled at the comment, but kept his composure.  Producing his
ID, he retorted, "This is serious.  As a FBI agent, I'm placing you
under arrest for several counts of child abuse not to mention two
counts of assault and battery."

"You aren't putting those things on me!  I have rights!" the enraged
man shouted.

"And I am prepared to read you those rights," the agent stated firmly,
producing his pistol.  "Don't make me hurt you.  Now, put the gun down
and place your hands on your head."

Dubois looked at his son and vowed, "This isn't finished yet!  Mark my
words!  My lawyer will have me outta jail within the hour!"

Dave twitched but kept his composure.  After taking a deep breath, he
stated, "Oh, you're done all right.  But, if you come after us again,
I'll make you sorry."  Locking glances with the other man, he added,
"Truly sorry."

By that time, the police had arrived and were rushing into the house. 
"Agent Petersen?" a voice called.

"In here, Sergeant Rivers," Steve called.  When the uniformed police
officer appeared, he added, "This is Stuart Dubois, the man I told you
about.  I was about to read him his rights."

Rivers grinned.  Dubois had badmouthed him publicly on a few
occasions.  Funny, how life gave one the chance to get even.  "Allow
me," he requested.  After the other nodded, he began reciting the
Miranda mantra.  When he had finished, he glanced up at Dave and
inquired, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine.  Just a little upset," the medievalist informed him.  "My
step-daughter and sister are banged up though."

"Was that the woman on the couch?  Brown hair, about 5'5"?  There's a
doctor treating her right now.  I don't know how she got out here so
quickly, but I guess it's not wise to look a gift horse in the mouth,"
the state officer continued as he pulled his prisoner onto his feet.

Dave and Steve smiled at each other.  No, best not to answer any
unnecessary questions at this point.  

"Is there anything else?" Rivers asked.  "I will need a statement from
everyone involved."

"Give us a minute alone, will you?" the FBI agent requested.  When the
other had left, he asked his friend, "See?  Everything's going to work
out.  Now, let's get those statements recorded and get back to our
business at hand.  Besides, Karen's waiting back in Tucson with the
twins."

Dave shrugged noncommittally.  "For me, it'll never be over, Steve.
Today was only one victory."

"But it was a big one.  Come now, you need to think about the bigger
matter at hand," Steve told him.

"Dijon," the professor agreed.  "Right.  Let's get this paperwork out
of the way."  After rubbing his friend's shoulder, he helped his
sister to her feet and helped her down the hall.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 3 [Amherst]

The police stayed for about two hours, questioning everyone thoroughly
and scribbling away in their notebooks.  Judging by the damage done to
the room, they didn't exactly believe that their prisoner had damaged
everything by himself.  Sergeant Rivers glanced over at Dave on more
than one occasion during these proceedings.  While the professor
seemed calm now, he always looked like a beast ready to pounce on
something.  "But then, when hasn't David been like this?" he asked
himself, recalling some of the bitter arguments between father and
son.  

Dave glanced over at the police officer and asked, "Did I answer
everything, Sergeant?"

"Within reason," the law enforcement official agreed.  "Given the
history between you and your father, nobody's going to question how
you reacted.  I do wish that you would get some help for that temper
of yours."

"He is," Angie interjected, entering the room with her med bag in tow.
"He's on a regimen of herbs and reduced caffeine-intake, among other
things.  Trust me, we'll get there, Sir."

Rivers nodded and smiled.  While they hadn't met, he had heard how
good an influence Angie had been on her husband.  "I think you have a
lot to do with that, Dr. Dubois."

She flushed pink and shook her head, "Well...I'd like to think that I
have something to do with it, but if Dave didn't want to do it, it
wouldn't happen."

The officer pondered this point for a second.  At least, David's
separation from his father seemed to be doing some good.  "I'll
process the paperwork and place these statements into the file."

Dave motioned with his eyes toward his father and asked, "And what
about him?  What now?"

"That depends upon your sister and her visitor," Rivers replied.  "If
they come forward, we can finally nail him."

"You can count on me for that, Sir," Deirdre agreed, limping slowly
into the area.  Her arm and left ankle were bandaged tightly.
Glancing at her grandfather, she continued, "That man's done enough
damage to this family for three lifetimes."

The sergeant scratched his head curiously at her statement but chose
not to pursue it further. "I'll be in touch," he concluded, closing
his notepad.  "Do take care, folks."  

Dave chuckled darkly, "We'll try."

Angie nudged him knowingly.

As he was being led out of the room, the elder Dubois spat, "Just you
wait!  I'm going to tell the world that you're a freak!  You'll be
hunted down like an animal!"

Rivers cut him off, "That's enough!  Let's go!"

Dave shook furiously as he watched his father being led from the room.
"He's already ruined my childhood and now..." he whispered.

Angie embraced him tightly, soothing, "No, he won't.  He's going to
jail where he belongs."

"Right," he doubted sarcastically.  "The judges and lawyers promised
me that before.  And he got a slap on the wrist is all."  

"And we'll be here for you, Papa," Deirdre promised.

His face brightened a bit.  Leaning closer to his daughter, he kissed
her cheek and sighed, "Thank you for that.  When I thought about him
hurting you and Cybelle, I couldn't take it."

"We knew that," Angie mentioned.  "However, you were able to stop
short of killing your father.  You don't know how proud I am."
Kissing him warmly, she continued, "You have come so far.  Please
don't let this quest of yours destroy what we've built."

"I'll do my best," he assured her.  "Meantime, how's Cybelle?"

"I took her back to Althanor.  Two days in the House of Healing should
have her as good as new," the priestess indicated.  "Meantime, the
High Priestess has requested that Genaria and I should do what we can
for everyone.  I'll be teleporting us to Europe, but I'll need you to
tell me where we're going."

"We'll have to check with Nick," he stated.  "But, I imagine we'll be
heading for France.  Rouen to be precise."

"Rouen?" Angie asked.

"Yes, that's where Dijon'll be waiting for me," he explained, rubbing
his wife's shoulder.  

The oncologist looked curiously at her husband.  This chase held so
many cryptic clues in it.

"Trust me, Princess, I know what I'm doing," he reassured her.

"Well, I hope so," she informed him.  "Meantime, my folks called about
an hour ago.  They're on their way from Wabash.  I figured we'd leave
the twins with them.  Besides, Brother Tony wants to have a chat with
us, not to mention Nick, Francesca, Eve, and Xena."

He shrugged resignedly.  The last thing he needed right now was a
'you're dancing around the Pit' lecture from the elderly minister.
Tony had been concerned since witnessing the Child's clash with Divia
back in the tiny town's center.  Given that Dijon's challenge came in
plain sight, everyone with a TV knew about it.  "He probably put two
and two together," he murmured.

"It didn't take much, Dave," Angie declared.  "He was watching the
whole scene and knowing what he knows, figured out what you're doing."

"I guess it won't harm anything to talk with him," he concurred.
"Deirdre, are you up to opening a portal?"

"Sure," she nodded and willed up a misty pillar.  "Tucson?"

"Yup.  We need to make sure the apartment's set and get everyone
here," he explained.  "Angie?"

"Coming," she replied wistfully.  Given the nature of their travels,
she wasn't about to leave anything to chance on the home front.
"Steve, can you let my parents know that we'll be back?"

The FBI agent nodded, "Absolutely."

With that, the threesome disappeared into the mists.

***

[Tucson: The Loft]

Nick poured himself another glass of cow blood and meandered over to
the couch.  It wouldn't be long now.  "I wish we didn't have to leave
until after sunset," he muttered, sipping on the liquid.  A look
across the room revealed that his bags were packed for the long
journey.  "Que sera sera," he shrugged, slumping into his sofa.

Suddenly, the elevator hummed to life and began moving up toward his
floor.  A moment later, the door slid open, allowing Natalie to hustle
into the area.  Her face looked haggard and her eyes had heaviness
about them caused no doubt by her inability to sleep.

"Nat?" he wondered.  "Please sit down.  Can I get you some coffee?"

The coroner shook her head, "No, that's okay."  Glancing at the
suitcases, she surmised, "Ready to go, aren't you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he noted, knowingly placing the glass down
on the table.  "I'm glad you came over."

"Thanks.  I wish it were under better circumstances.  Nick, there was
an incident this morning in Massachusetts," she declared.  

He probed, "At Cybelle's home?"

"Yes," she continued, sitting down slowly.  "Apparently, she and her
husband argued about her going with you all.  He left and brought her
father back with him.  He apparently attacked her and Deirdre.  The
latter managed to get herself back to her parents' house."

He shook his head, guessing at what happened next, "And Dave went back
there."

"According to Karen, he went nuts, jumped through the portal, and
faced his father," she reported.  

He winced.  Right now, they didn't need any other legal hassles.
"And?  So, what happened?" he inquired.

"Nothing much," she replied.  "Dave got a few choice shots in, but
Xena broke things up before he could finish things.  Then, Steve
called the police."

At her use of the agent's name, he stood up and walked back toward the
refrigerator.

"What?  Nick, what's your problem?" she demanded.  

He looked at her moodily and shook his head.  "I saw you last night."

She scrunched her brow perplexedly and puzzled, "Last night?  Wha?"
Then, she realized what he was getting at.  "Oh, that's it.  Isn't it?
You saw Steve and me in the lab, right?  Nick, who the Hell do you
think you are?  Don't I have a right to be happy?  After waiting for
you for six years...six damn years...you just go off with Alyce!  How
do you think that makes me feel?"

He scratched his head and bowed his shoulders.  "Nat," he sighed.

She turned away from him, meandering toward the closed-over window.
"No, Nick.  I don't want to hear it right now!  Twenty-four hours ago,
I thought that you cared about me.  Then, I noticed you and Alyce
getting closer and closer to each other.  Steve cares about me, Nick!"
she lectured.  "Why shouldn't I try something with him?"

 "That caring seemed to come on awfully quick, Nat!" he argued.

"Really?  And what about you and Alyce? I knew you two were attracted
to each other before.  But now that she's back, I see you've got the
blood out again," she posed.  "Maybe you've given up on a cure.  Maybe
you like being a vampire.  Is that it?"  She picked the glass up and
threw it into the fireplace.

"You know I don't like being a vampire!" he contradicted, vamping out.

"Then, what is it?  What happened to us?" she sobbed.

He paced the room, weighing a response.  Finally, he confessed, "I
don't want to hurt you again.  Maybe, this is for the best, Nat."

"Is it the fact that she's a vampire and I'm not?  I asked you to
bring me across and you wouldn't do it!  That's not fair, Nick.  I
was...I would be willing to make the sacrifice to spend eternity with
you.  You know that!" she spat.

"You don't know what you're asking, Nat," he advised her.

"And she did?" the ME cracked sarcastically.  "I bet she just said 'oh
take me...take me'."

"As a matter of fact, I did," Alyce's voice responded firmly.  The
vampiress flew to the ground floor.  "As a scientist, I knew exactly
what I was doing."

"Oh, right.  Well, asking as a scientist, Nick, bring me across,"
Natalie requested half-seriously.

"If it makes you feel any better, Natalie, Nick wouldn't do it then,
either.  Like him, I am the child of LaCroix," the curator revealed.
"And, you'll pardon me if I am a bit protective of him!"

"Like you would do anything, you bitch!" the coroner yelled, slapping
her rival across the face.

"Natalie!  Alyce!  Stop this!" he tried to interject.

Alyce shook him off.  "No, Nick, stay out of this!" Turning to
Natalie, she stated, "This is between us."

"You bet it is!  You...You..." Natalie concurred angrily, raising her
hand again.

The vampiress smiled coldly and grasped the other woman's hand in a
vise-like grip.  "And how did you think I felt as I watched you steal
him away from me?  I saw you, he, and Schanke leaving the museum the
night after I came across!  Later, I saw the two of you together in
his Caddy.  I spent six long years in Orleans, Natalie.  Six years!
Well, now I'm here!"  With those words, she tightened her grip,
forcing Natalie to her knees, "Be with your own kind.  You have a man
who loves you.  I came across for Nick, and I will have him!"

Natalie winced, "Nick, she's breaking my wrist!"

"Alyce, let her go!  I don't want her to be hurt," he directed. 

The raven-haired vampiress reluctantly released her grip.  "I do want
to be your friend, Natalie.  I wish you weren't the other woman
involved.  Trust me, I do want you to be happy.  I hope that Steve can
give you everything.  But, let us be happy together," she pleaded.

Natalie trembled sadly.  How dare Alyce make these statements to her! 
Looking to Nick, she sought support there, but that type of look
wasn't there.  In times past, she would see the spark, the fire, and
the ardor in those deep blue eyes.  While the caring glimmer still
remained, it wasn't the steady, secure light she had come to expect.
Maybe, he was right.  Maybe, this was for the best after all.  Her
eyes watered and she brushed her hand to rid herself of them.  Maybe
this situation wouldn't work out the way she wanted, but she wouldn't
give the immortal curator the satisfaction of watching her break down.
"If that's the way you feel, Nick, I guess that's the way it's going
to be."  With that, she walked back into the elevator and shut the
door.

For a long minute, Nick stared at the elevator.  Then, he drifted over
to the window.  Although he couldn't open the blinds, he could feel
her pain far below.  

She looked back, locking glances with him through the barrier.  Only
then, did she allow the floodgates to open.  They had endured many
trials over the years, but this was too much.  With a deep sigh, she
got in her car, started the engine, and sped away.

He stood at the window, feeling more depressed than ever.  Yet, when
he looked at Alyce, he knew he had made the right decision.  He just
wondered why it hurt so much.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 4

Schanke rubbed his head in frustration.  Granted, he knew that Nick's
departure would mean more work for him and Tracy.  But, as the "Luck
of the Schanke" would have had it, three homicides occurred within a
two-day span.  On top of this stuff, Ramirez happened to be in one of
his pensive moods.  "Great," he muttered.  "And I thought Stonetree or
Cohen could be heck to work with."

"Hey, Schanke," Tracy advised from her desk.  "It's going to be okay."

"Right," he agreed.  At least, she wasn't afraid to help with the
reports.  "Did you get that paperwork typed up?"

"Right here!" she smiled, handing him the completed report.  "I was
wondering if you wanted to get a cup of coffee or something.  You look
pretty beat."

He stretched and yawned, "Yeah, I am.  It's funny.  The place may
change, but the bosses' attitude remains the same."  

"Reese could be that way too," she recalled.  "When he was getting
pressed by City Hall, the Precinct could be an interesting place."

He smirked, "So were Cohen and Stonetree.  Nick even caught some flak
from time to time, although he managed to squirm out of most stuff.
Sometimes, I don't know how he kept his things from us for so long."

She glanced around, making sure that nobody was within earshot before
continuing, "That's because we weren't looking for it.  I was occupied
with just getting along with him, not to mention Vachon.  You, I
gather, were just focusing on your job."

He nodded, recalling the firefight about two weeks before the plane
crash.  After witnessing Nick's abilities first hand, the paunchy
detective had investigated his partner on a cursory level before
LaCroix finally managed to discourage him from the task.  "I'm glad
now I didn't push the issue.  There was the one time when I started to
do it, but backed off.  LaCroix can be pretty persuasive, ya know?"

The mental image of LaCroix in the jail cell during the Divia episode
passed through her mind.  "You should have seen him the night we had
to take him into Holding," she noted.

His eyes bulged and he gaped, "You had him in Holding?  For what?"

She smiled, "We received an anonymous tip concerning a murder at the
Raven.  When we got there, he was there with a corpse.  Eventually, he
was cleared.  However, you should have seen it.  From what Nick told
me, he had one side of the cell to himself and the other perps were
huddled together on the other."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he shivered, remembering the encounter with the
old Roman over at the Toronto radio station.

At that moment, Natalie barged into the precinct with her hand over
her eyes.  Without a word to anyone, she hustled through the bullpen
and down the stairs to the morgue.

"What the?" Tracy asked.

"What's with her?" Chris asked concernedly from the sergeant's desk.
"I hope she's okay."

Schanke shrugged and sighed deeply.  Unlike the others, he could guess
at the cause of their friend's malady.  "Tracy, can you excuse me for
just a sec?  I need to go talk to Natalie about something."

"Let's both go," the other detective disagreed.  "If this has
something to do with Nick, I want to know about it."

He admitted, "That's probably not a bad idea.  C'mon."

The two homicide detectives descended the stairs into the dark
passageway.  For a second, they didn't hear anything.  Then, from Room
2B, a sliver of light peeked out under the door.  As they moved
closer, they could hear sobbing.  Natalie was obviously upset.

"Man, Nick, I hope that you aren't behind this," he noted to himself. 
Knocking on the door, he called, "Natalie?  It's Schanke.  Listen,
Tracy and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Schank, no offense, but I really need to be alone right now.  I
really appreciate the thought.  Thanks," the pathologist replied.

"Are you sure?" Tracy probed.  "What happened?"

A long pregnant pause echoed in the hall before the coroner answered,
"Wh...why don't you come in?  You're right.  I don't want to be alone
right now."  

He gently pushed the door open and walked into the exam room.  In the
corner, Natalie stood watching them with her hands at her sides.  Her
eyes were red and puffy.  The right hand was wrapped in something and
had an ice bag tied against it.  "Geez, Natalie.  What happened?"

"I sprained my wrist.  Oops!" she cracked miserably.  Seeing her
friends weren't buying the performance, Natalie dropped the act,
continuing, "I...I went over to Nick's loft to talk about things.
Somehow, Steve came up in the discussion.  He started to get demanding
and we argued about him, Steve, Alyce, and me.  Then, Alyce came
downstairs.  I slapped her once and went to do so again.  She grabbed
my hand and wrenched it."  Rubbing her wrapped hand, she noted, "It
hurts...."

"Natalie, I'm so sorry," he apologized.  "I knew I should have said
something after that incident at the museum...."

The coroner crossed the room and demanded, "What incident, Schank?
Or, wait a minute, don't tell me, this isn't the first time they had
been together, is it?"

The paunchy detective shook his head and admitted, "No, it wasn't.
They were together at the museum the night after that fiasco at the
University.  Remember when Dave Dubois and I went looking for him?"

The pathologist nodded, "Let me guess.  They were together when you
found him, right?"

"That's right," he agreed.  "Dave felt that it was between you and
Nick.  So, I didn't say anything."

The ME bit back some angry words.  "Well, as much as I hate to admit
it, Dave had a point.  We are all supposedly grownups here.  I don't
agree with his thinking, but he has enough problems right now," she
said matter-of-factly.

Tracy stared at her friends curiously.  She knew that Nick and Natalie
had feelings for each other back in Toronto.  However, while
speculation had been rife in the Precinct for several years about
their relationship, they had never confirmed their feelings for one
another-at least not publicly.  During the first mess here in Tucson,
Nick had shown a great deal of concern for the coroner.  Yet, since
Alyce had appeared, he had drifted away from Natalie, moving closer to
the curator.  Shaking her head, she sighed, "I thought you two were
getting closer."

Natalie glanced in her direction, commenting, "So did I, Trace.
Everything seemed to be getting better.  Then, she popped back up on
the scene."  Collecting herself, she mentioned, "Sorry about the
scene, Guys.  I'm not myself tonight."

He rubbed her shoulder and hugged her, stating, "That's okay, Natalie.
I know.  When he gets back, Nick and I are gonna have a little chat
about this."

"Schank, don't!" Natalie pleaded.  "Maybe this is for the best.  With
all of our problems, maybe Nick and I aren't meant to be together."

"You really don't mean that," he argued.  "C'mon!  I've seen you two
together."

"I know.  But, Steve's here now. Speaking of which, I need to get a
hold of him," she noted, dialing his cell phone number.  "I've been
trying him for the last two hours."

Suddenly, Steve responded, "Petersen here."

"Steve, it's Natalie.  Where are you?  I...I need to talk to you," she
told him.

"Sorry, I've been taking care of a mess with Dave and Angie this
morning back in Massachusetts.  His father showed up at Cybelle's
house and hurt both her and Deirdre.  Dave jumped through the portal
and dealt with the old man.  I've been cutting through red tape all
morning," he reported.  "What's wrong?  Are you all right?"

"I went to Nick's this morning to talk.  We had a fight," she started.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked with concern.

"No, but Alyce sprained my wrist.  Steve, before you all leave, will
there be time for us to talk?" she replied.

"I was thinking...Do you have any vacation time?" he probed.

"Sure.  I have about three weeks in reserve, why?  You don't want me
to go with you, do you?" she pondered.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he noted.  "I was hoping to
spend some time with you on this trip.  C'mon."

"Are you sure that's really a good idea, Steve?  For me to be so close
to Nick and Alyce right now might not be smart," she doubted.

"But, if you don't, we won't see each other for three weeks.  Natalie,
this is hard for me too.  I have to admit that I haven't felt like
this about anyone and well, I know this is going to be difficult for
everyone..." he revealed.

She managed a smile.  Maybe, this was a good thing after all.  "I had
my passport put in order just in case."

"Not necessary.  Just meet me at Dave and Angie's place at noon," he
advised her.  

"Where are they now?" she inquired.

""Back in Mass with Angie's parents, tying up loose ends.  I'm at
their place right now," he assured her.  "If you want to come over
sooner, I can meet you at your apartment if you'd like."

"I would like that, thanks.  Give me about 25 minutes, okay?  I need
to talk to Ramirez," she agreed.

"Sounds good," he concurred.  "I'll see you then."

"Right," she concluded and hung up the phone with a happy glimmer in
her eye.  

"Let me guess," Tracy probed,  "You're going too?"

"That's right," Natalie told her.  "Steve has asked me to go along
with them.  Apparently, he wants to talk with me on the trip."

"Are you sure that's such a hot idea?" he asked.  "I mean...given
what's happened?"

"Maybe it might be good for Nick to see that I have other
possibilities as well," the ME shrugged albeit more nonchalantly than
she really felt.

"Whatever," he relented.  "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," she agreed, throwing some things into her black bag.  "See
you when I get back!"  

They watched her rush up the stairs toward the captain's office.
While he wanted her to take some vacation time, the two detectives
knew that he hadn't meant to do so in an abrupt fashion.  Still, they
hoped that this trip would be good for all parties rather than a
collective bundle of risks for them all.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 5 

[House of Healing, Althanor]

The High Priestess leaned heavily on her staff as she staggered around
the House of Healing, checking on the infirm and injured priestesses. 
This aspect of the position always weighed the most on her, especially
given the circumstances.  Upon hearing from Genaria that Cybelle had
been brought back for treatment, she aborted her retreat and quickly
made her way to the healing facility.  

"The father and son have met once again and started the chain reaction
detailed in the prophecy," she sighed, having witnessed the incident
through her viewing pool.

In front of the hospital, Genaria stood waiting for her.  "Mother,"
she called.

"Genaria," the elderly woman acknowledged warmly.  "Thank you for
letting me know about the situation.  Is there any other news?"

"Yes, Cybelle is awake.  The herbal treatment should heal her ankle in
a few days time," the younger priestess explained.

The older woman barked a series of sharp coughs.  The illness eating
away at her stamina had made her far too weak to deal with the
situation at hand.  Now, with her heir temporarily incapacitated, the
task would fall onto the untested shoulders of Genaria and Deirdre.
"Could they handle it?" she wondered to herself.  

"This way, Mother," Genaria urged.  "Let me help you."

"Thank you, Child," the High Priestess smiled, allowing her companion
to assist her through the doorway.  About halfway down the row of
cots, she saw Cybelle lying on her back with her injured foot bound
tightly in linen and raised in the air.  Her face was bruised, as were
her arms.  "Goddess preserve me!" the old woman exclaimed.  

"Mother?" Genaria inquired.

For a brief second, the old priestess's inner fire flared, allowing
her to stand with her former bearing.  She declared, "I may be elderly
and frail, but no man lays a hand on a priestess of Althanor!  No
man!"

"David Dubois dealt with him," the other priestess commented.  

"So you have told me, and I have seen," the Mother nodded.  "How is
Deirdre?"

"Her mother tended to her," Cybelle replied testily, opening her eyes.
"I wish I could do something besides lying here and being useless."

"You need to rest," Genaria advised her compatriot.  "The situation is
being dealt with."

Cybelle chuckled, "You were always ready to step in where you're
needed, Genaria.  That's something I've admired about you from the
beginning."

"I've learned from the best," the younger priestess complemented.

Grasping the other woman's hand, Cybelle urged, "Now, you must be
strong.  It is up to you to represent us and to guide Deirdre in what
she must do."

"Deirdre?" Genaria probed.  "But, she has only come into her full
abilities."

"You know that the ways of the Faerie Empress are not revealed to us
better than anyone, Genaria," the High Priestess admonished gently.
"As much as I would wish it otherwise, the task ahead will fall on our
newest priestess's shoulders."

"So the prophecy has foretold, as have Deirdre's own dreams," the bed-
ridden patient concurred.  "She will have to stand by her father's
side in the trial to come."

Genaria fought back the butterflies in her stomach and stated, "You
can count on Deirdre and me.  We'll get the job done."

"Speaking of my niece, does she know where the battle is to take
place?" Cybelle inquired.

"David hasn't indicated the place, but we have a few stops in France
to make first," the younger priestess indicated.  "Speaking of which,
I should be getting back.  Mother, with your leave, of course."

"Go in peace, Child," the High Priestess granted.  "Walk the way
gently yet firmly."

Genaria nodded briefly as she created a portal and disappeared into
it.

For a long minute, the remaining priestesses stared at the dissipating
mist, wondering about the future and hoping for the best.  

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001	
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 6

[Amherst]

Dave sat on his sister's couch, sipping anxiously on a cup of cherry
tea and wondering what other obstacles life would throw in his path.
From the dirty looks his brother-in-law was shooting at him, more
potential fireworks lay on the horizon, but fortunately, Matt knew
better than to push his buttons right now.  "Yeah, you better keep
your distance, Buddy," he snarled low.

Despite the fact that he resented his house being taken over by the
police and his inlaws, Matt sat in the corner, stewing in his juices
and hoping that the situation would soon be resolved.

Angie walked over and asked, "Mind if I sit down?"

He patted the space next to him absently, replying, "You know there's
always a place for you, Princess."

"Thanks," she smiled while sinking down into the comfortable cushions.
"I was wondering how you're holding up."

"You know me.  I'm just waiting for the next major crisis to hit," he
joked.

She shook her head concernedly.   From the stories she had heard not
to mention their time together, she knew her husband lived his life
from crisis to crisis, waiting for the next shoe to drop.  Certainly,
seeing his father had not helped his state of mind.  "I...I know," she
assured him.  "And I can understand why you're doing all of this.
But, Honey, I'm not exactly made of glass.  Trust me, I can take care
of myself." She rubbed his hand gently, continuing, "We're a team.
Equal partners.  Remember when you said that?"

He nodded, recalling the scene in Cairo during their conference-
honeymoon.  "I do.  And I still feel that way.  It's just
that...well...I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you
or the girls."

"You mean like what happened this morning?" she baited half-seriously.

He shrugged, "I don't remember what happened between Deirdre's showing
up in the bedroom and Xena's appearance here.  I can see I went
berserk."

"Yeah, you did.  But at least, you both stopped short of homicide,
and, because of it, your father's still alive and Cybelle's okay.
You're a hero, Dave.  No matter what happens against Dijon, you'll
always be my hero," she noted, hugging him tightly.  "Count on it.
Now, can you do a favor for me?  My parents will be here any minute.
Can you compose yourself?"

"I'm about as ready as I'll ever be, but I am going to wash up.  Be
back in a few," he agreed.  Rising from the sofa, he started toward
the bathroom.  However, he turned to his wife, expressing, "Thank you,
Princess.  For just being you."

"My pleasure," she chuckled.  

Just after he disappeared down the hall, Angie heard a car pull up in
the driveway.  A quick glance out of the door told her that her
parents had arrived.  Walking out the door, she headed for the
automobile.

Bill Blackwell slowly creaked his way to his feet and ambled around to
the other side of the car to assist his wife, Jennifer, and the
elderly minister, Brother Tony.  The years were weighing heavily on
him, but Angie could still see the same presence in her father.  He
grinned at the sight of his daughter and waved.

 "Hi, Momma!  Daddy!" their daughter cheered, embracing them.

"Angie!  It's good to see you, Dear.  We came as soon as we could.
Are you all right?" Jennifer  inquired, hugging the younger woman.

"Not a scratch.  It's just been a very difficult week is all," the
oncologist revealed.

Her mother indicated, "Your grandfather mentioned that there was
trouble out in Arizona during his visit.  What's going on?"

"Can you go inside first?  I'd like to speak with Brother Tony about
something," Angie requested, looking about carefully.

"Of course, Angel," her father agreed.  "Come along, Jenny." With
that, he helped his wife into the house.

After her parents were out of earshot, Brother Tony posed, "How is
everything, Angela?  Really?"

"I didn't want to say anything in front of them.  At least not yet.
But, with everything happening, it's been crazy," she admitted.

The elderly minister nodded knowingly and soothed low, "It's going to
be fine.  Tell me, what does Xena think of this?"

She glanced around again and, after making sure that nobody was close
by, explained, "She's being a real help, Brother Tony.  I mean, she's
been through similar situations.  By the way, I've been meaning to
ask, how deeply did you read the scrolls?"

"Fairly extensively.  Why do you ask?  Angela, what happened in
Tucson?  What's going on with David?" he questioned.

"What do you remember of Alti?" she asked hesitantly.

The old man's eyes bulged and he gasped, "The shamaness!  She didn't
come back to life, did she?"

The oncologist nodded, "She was reincarnated.  Actually, Dave and Xena
have crossed her path on several occasions.  The first time nearly
killed him."

He racked his memory, recalling that the hag could touch people,
torturing them with their worst nightmares.  "She made him see his
childhood.  And, let me guess, she reawakened that dark persona within
him."

She shook her head.  "Not exactly, but she made him turn more violent.
We were up in Wabash about two months after that first encounter.  I'm
sure you remember him fighting Divia?"

"I can't ever forget that, Child.  Now, as for this challenge of
David's, he must go through with this confrontation.  We can be there
to help," the minister stated, quaking in fear at the sudden insight.

"We?" she asked skeptically.  "Don't get me wrong, Brother.  I would
love for you to accompany us, but aren't you needed in Wabash?"

"You and David are my children as well, Angela.  I have arranged for
the church services to be covered in my absence.  Meanwhile, with your
leave, I shall accompany you two in your quest," he declared.

"If that's the case, I would advise you to be ready for some
unorthodox travel," she informed him.  

Brother Tony scratched his head perplexedly at her comment.  "When it
comes to a task such as this one, Angela, there is no such thing as
'orthodox'," he surmised.  "Now, let's join your parents for our talk,
shall we?"

"Right," she agreed, helping him into the house.  Once inside, they
made their way over to where Dave was talking with her parents.  To
their credit, they seemed to be calming her husband down.

"Hi, Angel," her father greeted.  "We were just talking to David about
things."

"And...?" she asked nervously.

"Other than his mood, he's doing fine," her mother assessed.

The oncologist shot the minister a nervous glance, thinking, " 'Other
than his mood' he's always been okay.  That's the whole problem."

"So, how goes the rebuilding efforts?" Dave inquired.

"The downtown is pretty much back to the way it was," Bill pointed
out.  "Life's almost back to normal.  Everyone's still talking about
the damage though.  It was amazing how all of that damage could happen
in just a single evening without a tornado or storm in the area."

Brother Tony shuddered, remembering that night, and the twin storms,
two angry children with great power and devastating effectiveness,
which had leveled the town square between them in their fit of rage.
"That's why I need to be there no matter what," he confirmed to
himself.

"Are you set to take the twins?" Angie probed.

"Well, that was the general idea," Jennifer nodded. "We figured that
it would be a great time to visit with them.  But, why isn't Deirdre
coming?"

Dave glanced at his wife, searching for an explanation.  Finally, he
shrugged, "She's staying with Lori Applegate in Tucson.  Right,
Princess?"

"That's right," Angie agreed quickly.  

"You know we can take care of all three of them," Bill argued.  "No
need to bother your friend with Deirdre."

"Oh well.  It's done," his wife assented.  "Now, you two stay clear of
trouble.  Rest assured that Lauren and Karen will be fine while you're
gone."

"Thanks, Momma," her daughter smiled.  "You're the best."

"I'll second that," Dave concurred, hugging them both.  "Need some
help with their stuff?"

"That would be nice," his father-in-law agreed.  The two men brought
the girls' luggage out to the car and loaded it in the trunk.  Then,
the elder man continued, "David, you know I don't have to ask you
this, but what are you dragging my daughter into this time?"

"Excuse me?" the medievalist coughed.

"You heard me," Bill asserted.  "On your last visit, half of the town
ended up being leveled just when you were there."

"Heckuva coincidence if you ask me," the younger man shrugged.

"Coincidence my foot," the farmer scoffed.  "Look, David, I think
you're a great son-in-law and father.  The only concern I have is that
Angie's going to get caught in the middle of whatever it is you're
going after.  I don't want my daughter dead.  Understand?"

Dave's face darkened a bit.  If anyone else had taken this line with
him, they would have regretted it.  But, this was his father-in-law so
he patiently explained,  "Look, Papa B, nothing's going to happen to
Angie.  Believe me, she's tougher than either of us.  She and Brother
Tony insisted on going on this trip over my objections.  Trust me,
nothing's going to happen to us."

"Okay.  I hope you're right," Bill stated, letting the point go at
that.  He had no wish to test Dave's anger right now.  Not after what
Angie had told him and his wife about the last few days.  "Well,
that's everything.  Good luck on your trip.  I hope you find whatever
it is you're looking for."

"I hope so too," Dave concurred, giving the other man a hearty
handshake.  "Safe driving."

The elderly man saw Angie helping her mother and the twins up the walk
to the car.  After assisting Jennifer into her seat, he embraced his
daughter tightly and wished, "Be safe and strong."

"I will, Daddy," she affirmed.  "Nothing's going to happen.  Brother
Tony will see to that."

"Yes, I'm sure," he agreed, looking at his son-in-law again over her
left shoulder.  If anything happened, there would be Hell to pay.
"Well, say goodbye to the kids and we'll hit the road."

"Right," she sighed and joined her husband over by their daughters.
Stooping down, she directed, "Now, you two behave for Grandma and
Grandpa, okay?"

"No funny business now," he added.

Karen and Lauren stared seriously into their parents' faces.  Despite
their young age, they had already been through more than most people
experience in their whole lifetimes.  Nodding serenely, they chorused,
"Yes, Papa.  Yes, Mama."  Only a stray tear came from each of them.
Despite their experience, they were still only children after all.  

Their parents embraced them tightly.  "Nothing's going to happen to us
or Dee-Dee, right?  After this is over, we're going to have a lot of
fun, I promise," they assured the twins.

Through their own enhanced senses, the twins could sense that 'this'
was going to be a difficult situation, but, since they couldn't change
their father's mind either, Karen and Lauren climbed into the backseat
of their grandparents' car and strapped themselves in.  As the car
pulled away, they looked at their parents with a sense of fear and
dread, hoping for the best.

*****
 
In the driveway, Angie buried her head in Dave's shoulder and started
to sob.  After her parents drove away, the realization had finally hit
her.  They were really going to follow through on this battle.  It was
really going to happen.

"Honey?" Dave inquired, hugging her tightly and stroking her auburn
hair.  "Shh....It's going to be okay.  We had to send them with your
folks.  They'll be safe there.  You'll see."

"I know," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her hand.  "But, I feel
that we're on a collision course with something serious, and we can't
stop it."

He nodded earnestly and agreed, "This is serious.  And, rest assured,
we've brought every possible advantage with us."  Holding her at arm's
length, he continued reassuringly, "You know how many bad situations
we've been through?"

"Lots.  Too many for my liking," she retorted.

"That's right.  And here's another problem for us.  One more hurdle,"
he told her.

"But, when is this going to stop, Dave?  When are we going to treated
as normal people?" she complained.

"We aren't normal, Angie," he noted.  "Somehow, I just get the feeling
that we're going to have to take life as it comes.  But, I'm not going
to let anything happen to you or our family.  No way.  Just be assured
that no matter how difficult life gets, I wouldn't want to spend it
any other way except with you at my side."  He kissed her forehead
tenderly as an exclaimation point.  "And you can take that one to the
bank!"

"You know I feel the same way, Buster," she concurred nervously,
gripping his hands firmly with her own.  "I guess this is what they
meant when they put the 'for better or worse' in the vows?"

"Absolutely," he agreed.  "Now, let's not keep Brother Tony waiting
any longer.  We have a lot of ground to cover."  With that, they
walked back toward the house.




Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 7
[Tucson]

Alyce walked down the stairs, lugging her packed suitcase.  For the
past three hours since Natalie had left, the loft had been unusually
quiet as if a heavy blanket were stifling any feeling or sound from
within the area.  "I hope she's okay," the curator wondered aloud,
setting her burden down beside the other bags.

Nick hadn't budged from the covered window.  He stood in shock, not
believing what had just taken place.  After all of the ups and downs,
that argument could have been the last straw for him and Natalie.
Many years invested gone just like that.  Now, he understood what
Schanke had been getting at during their conversation out in the
desert.  Maybe, it was best to "move on" in this sense.  For the first
time, he wouldn't have to leave a place to do so, but rather, this
transition would be one of the mind, spirit, and soul.  Upon hearing
Alyce's comment, he replied, "I'm sure she'll be fine.  You did grab
her really hard."

"She was slapping me, Nick," the vampiress told him.  "I guess I don't
know my own strength yet.  It's just that I remember that night when
you, she, and Schanke were in the museum in Toronto.  You two were so
close, and there was nothing I could do.  I wanted to crash through
the glass and let you know that I was still alive.  That I still cared
for you. You don't know how much that hurt me."

He hugged her tightly.  "I can imagine," he stated, recalling the
scene between Steve and Natalie in the morgue.  At that moment, he saw
the mist forming in the corner and Deirdre step into the loft from it.
"Deirdre," he acknowledged.

"That's me," she agreed.  "Are you two ready?  We have to meet
everyone back at the apartment."

"We are," Alyce agreed, picking up her bag.  "Is that where this
portal is going?"

"Indeed it is," the priestess agreed.

"Then, let's go," Nick agreed, taking a look around.  Everything was
shut down and the security set.  With another look back, he followed
the other immortal through the portal.

Deirdre glanced around the area herself.  "So many relics and
artifacts...no wonder Papa likes it here," she realized before
stepping into the dissipating mist herself and closing it behind them.

***

Steve looked about his friends' apartment one last time.  Everything
was shut off, as it had been when they left.  However, since he knew
how retentive Dave was--especially in his Child mode--the FBI agent
decided to make one more sweep.   "Sometimes, Dave, I gotta wonder how
you make it," he muttered.

Then a knock came from the door.  Walking over, he answered, "Yes?"

"Steve?  It's Francesca and Eve.  Can we come in?"  the Italian
literature professor replied.

"Absolutely," he agreed, opening the door.  "Please do.  Have your
bags packed?"

"They're right here," Eve indicated, placing hers on the carpet beside
her.  Glancing over at the bags beside the kitchen area, she asked,
"Are those David's bags?"

He nodded, "Those bags hold his gear and the explosives."

"Wait'll you see what he does with that stuff," Francesca deadpanned,
dropping her duffel on the floor behind her.  "I never knew he was a
chemist until I saw what he could do with those arrowheads.  Even if
his powers were to quit on him, I would still take him to knock out
the Enforcers."

The former Messenger winced, "Such destructive weapons.  Is the
darkness' influence that strong on him?"

"No," he indicated.  "But, Dave's had a very interesting life.  When
as many people come gunning for you as they do him, it's good to learn
some fighting skills.  Trust me, I've seen him shoot on the firing
range.  He's a crack shot, especially in his darkest mood."  

"I guess," the Amazon princess agreed, crossing her arms and squirming
at the thought.

"By the way, have you seen Natalie?"  he inquired.  "Deirdre's due
back with Nick and Alyce any minute, and I was hoping to leave at that
point."

The two women studied his face.  What was he getting at?  By all
accounts, she was supposedly staying behind.  

"I thought she was staying here," Francesca assumed.  "What's going
on?"

"She's coming.  Call it a last minute decision on both of our parts,"
he noted.  Hearing another rapping at the door, he asked, "Natalie?"

"Steve, it's me," the coroner replied.  "I'm ready to go."

Opening the portal, he hugged the newest arrival and stated, "I'm glad
you agreed to come."

"So am I," she agreed, carrying her suitcase into the room.  "So when
does the bus leave?"

Suddenly, the mist spilled into the corner of the room.  From it,
Alyce, Nick, and Deirdre entered the area.  

"Is this everyone?" Deirdre asked. "Genaria's already taken Karen to
our next destination."

Natalie stared icily at Nick and Alyce, and probed, "What is she doing
here?"

"As a vampire, it's my right to be there," the curator replied coolly.
"And you?"

"As a scientist, it's my right as well," the redhead shrugged.
"Besides, this isn't finished!"

Nick and Steve locked moody glances as well.  This wasn't going to be
a pleasant trip in any event.  Now, things would get more complicated.

"Enough!" Eve interjected forcefully, stepping between the four
parties.  "We have enough to worry about right now!  By Eli's will,
we'll have the opportunity to settle this matter later!"

The Elisian's outburst took everyone by surprise.  Normally soft
spoken, her command and bearing in that instant took on the more
aristocratic, almost regal upbringing of Livia.  This fact didn't
escape Francesca nor Nick for an instant.  But, as she had pointed
out, one crisis should be handled at a time.

"I guess we're ready," Steve indicated.  "Deirdre?"

"Right.  Next stop, England," the priestess replied matter of factly,
willing up a cloud column.  "All aboard."

The agent picked up his own suitcase and took Natalie's hand.
"Ready?"

"Uh huh," she replied nervously as they vanished into the mists.

"Eli, help us," Eve requested before she, Francesca, Nick, and Alyce
followed them into the mist.

The young priestess inspected the apartment once more.  Noting her
father's gear, she extended the fog over the bags, causing them to
vanish.  "Can't forget to bring them," she cracked to herself.  Then,
stepping through the portal, she closed it behind herself, leaving no
trace of anyone still within the area.





 
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 8 [Heaven]

Raphael peered impatiently into the viewportal in front of him.  Just
months before, Michael had argued that neither Xena nor David Dubois
were to be trusted for a routine task.  Now, those two, along with
their friends, were headed for Europe to deal with that immortal
vermin, Bertrand du Dijon.  "I wish I understood why this is
happening," he stated to himself.

"As do I, Raphael," another voice wondered aloud.

The archangel turned to see an ordinary angel approaching him.  The
other soul bowed deeply from his waist, expressing humility before his
superior.  "Thank you, Lorenzo.  I'm afraid I have no answers for
you."

"Hasn't David done enough?  Suffered enough?  Forgive me for sounded
impertinent, Raphael, but the boy is constantly fighting for his
survival!  I...I wish that Michael wouldn't require this sacrifice of
him," the other angel protested.

"That is not for us to say," Raphael noted.  "Believe me, I understand
where your concern comes from.  There is no impertinence in expressing
your views in a humble fashion, as long as you accept God's will."

"Well said, Raphael," Michael complemented, entering the area.  The
blonde, well-built archangel strode purposefully up to the viewportal
and realized, "Yes, all is proceeding according to plan."  Glancing at
the prostrated angel before him, he added, "Please rise, Lorenzo.
While your humility is appreciated, I do not require that of you.
There is something else you can do for me, however."

"Name it," the deceased grandfather agreed.

"You will go to David at the proscribed moment and guide him in
certain things.  This is for his benefit.  I want him in a certain
state of mind when I go to him," the newcomer explained.  "He will
need his inner darkness to defeat Dijon.  But, he must be balanced to
use it properly."

"I understand," the newest angel concurred.  "I will do what it takes
to help him and the others to succeed.  Thank you, Michael."

"You are quite welcome," Michael replied, appreciating the other's
manner.  Perhaps, he laid the humility on a little thick, but, after
dealing with others such as Lucifer, Lorenzo's purity was a welcome
addition to the feriment. Watching the regular angel leave, he thought
that the other had a lot of potential.

"Do you think this can work?" Raphael inquired.

"It has to, Raphael," his colleague asserted, producing a gleaming
metal sword from thin air.  "With this, Dubois will dispose of that
vampiric nuisance or die trying.  Dijon has served his purpose.  Now,
it is time to send him to his reward."

The Italian archangel nodded in agreement.  As always, Michael seemed
to have a plan and the knowledge to make it work.

***

[Istanbul, Turkey]

The midnight sky over the Golden Horn created an air of seeming
serenity for the Eurasian city.  Shipping continued to come and go.
Tourists flocked through the downtown strip and the bazaar.  Tokapi
Palace continued to hold its same regal appearance as it had over the
previous 600 years during the reigns of the Ottoman sultans.  Aya
Sofia loomed over the area as well, emanating its own mysterious
magnetism to native and foreigner alike.  Truly, this city was a
mixture of ancient and modern traits.

LaCroix descended out of that very night sky and studied his
surroundings.  As much as he enjoyed this place for its culture and
vibrant energy, the elder vampire would have rather been nearer to
Nick and Dave keeping an eye on their progress.  Instead, he stalked
the cobblestones of the walk overlooking the Golden Horn on his own,
peering into the darkness with his enhanced senses.  In the inky
blackness, he picked up on a familiar vibration.  Yes, it was another
vampire and one very much like him.  "Ali, I've come as you requested!
Enough games, Turk!  Show yourself!" he demanded.

Ali landed right in front of him and indicated, "As you wish, Lucius. 
Thank you for coming so far to meet me here."

The Roman snorted, "We haven't the time for games or idle talk, Ali.
I trust this is important and concerns the duel."

The Turk nodded, "It does indeed concern our dirty business, Lucius.
We both have a role in this affair, do we not?  I say we intervene."

LaCroix managed to keep a straight face, allowing only his right
eyebrow to arch.  "Really?  On whose authority?  The Elders have
decided not to interfere.  You and I were party to that agreement,
Ali."

"But how could you call for that vote?" the other snarled.  "You who
created this mess in the first place!"

LaCroix stiffened.  How dare the other Elder accuse him thus?  "I did
not create the mess, Ali.  It was your protege, Dijon, who created the
mess as you call it by botching his task.  He left Dubois alive!  Now,
let him deal with that failure, either by killing the insolent mortal,
or by dying himself!  We cannot intervene.  I have asked Nicholas to
stay out of this affair, but you know how children will not listen!
If your Enforcer protégé lays a hand on either of my children or their
friends, he will answer to me!"

"If he does his job as an Enforcer after disposing of Dubois, then so
be it!" the Turk spat.  "Besides, he and Xena have a score to settle."

The former general hissed and, staring right into the other immortal's
eyes, warned, "Leave her and her annoying blonde sidekick out of this!
They are mine to deal with!  Do you hear me?  Mine!  I will not brook
interference in that regard either from you or your out of control
brat.  Do you understand?"

Ali nodded grimly.  He should have known better than to deal with
LaCroix in this fashion.  "Perfectly.  I will see you when the battle
comes," he groused, taking off into the night sky.

For a long minute, LaCroix paced the ramparts, reflecting upon the
conversation he had just had with the other Elder.  "Fascinating," he
mused aloud.  "For a former Janissary and imperial diplomat, he has
little respect for decorum and how things need to be done."  Looking
up to the sky, he took off into the night, seeking shelter now that
his task was finished for the present.  At least until Nicholas and
the others showed up.



  

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1
Chapter 9 [O' Connell Manor-outside of London]

Alex O' Connell sat in his study amidst his books and papers trying to
concentrate on his latest project.  Thanks to his parents, the elderly
professor of archeology and fellow of the British Museum had been
around scholarly pursuits all of his life.  For the most part, this
activity had proved delightful.  However, on more than one occasion,
these endeavors had threatened to take his life.  However, as with his
mother, such dangers failed to deter him.  "Rubbish," he thought.
"I've survived mummies, vampires, witches, and bad papers from
students.  What could be so bad?"

At this point, he walked over to the shelf and picked out four rather
dusty tomes.  "Hopefully, these will help David and Angela," he
sighed, setting them down heavily on the desk.  "Rather weighty they
are," he remarked half-seriously, recalling the incident with the
Bracelet of Anubis from his childhood.  That race with the sun and
fate had come a hair's width from killing him.  This scenario could
prove just as deadly.  "Anyone fearsome enough to give Nicholas and
LaCroix concern is worth learning more about," he remarked to himself.

"What's to know, Grandpa Alex?" Angie inquired, trying to keep a smile
pinned on her face.  "We're dealing with an immortal knight turned
Enforcer who wants to kill my husband."

The elderly man raised his right eyebrow in confusion and asked, "And
this doesn't concern you?  In the four hours since your arrival, you
seem awfully cavalier about these events if I may say so."

She shrugged, allowing the cheery façade to drop momentarily, "No, I'm
not really, but this is my best effort to keep a positive front for
Dave's sake.  This is almost too much for me.  If it wasn't for
Francesca, Karen, and Eve, I don't know how I would be doing right
now."

"Yes," he nodded, embracing his granddaughter.  "You've always been
strong, Angela.  That quality will do well for you in this situation. 
There is one person I wish you could meet.  She was so determined and
fearless in the face of a fight.  In fact, she was there with David
and Cybelle."

"Xena, right?" she guessed, an ironic smile spreading across her face.
"Actually, we have met.  There are times I wish I could just snap my
fingers and become her, believe me."

[From deep inside of her head, the Warrior Princess grinned amusedly,
"Snap her fingers, huh?  I wonder what Alex would say if she drew the
sword and actually became me?"]

"You too have a lot in common," he assured the oncologist. "I think
you would get along just fine."

Echoing her roommate's ponderings, she mused to herself, "You don't
know the half of it."  Straightening herself, she inquired, "So, what
are you researching now?"

"That vampire-knight," he noted.  "I'm trying to find some weakness or
a chink in his armor."

She rubbed her grandfather's shoulder.  "If anyone knows Dijon and
that era of history, it's Dave.  He's been working on this issue
himself for quite a while.  Besides, he has Nick to advise him," she
commented.

"So, you know about Nicholas?" he probed.

"About the fact that he's a vampire?  Yes, I've known about that since
the first night we met in Toronto.  Trust me, if there's someone who's
giving my hubby the inside scoop, it's Nick," she replied.  "And I
feel better that LaCroix is staying clear of this particular fight.
We have enough to worry about."

The elderly professor analyzed his granddaughter once again. How did
she know about LaCroix?  The television cameras had failed to pick up
on her at the battle scene.  Where had she been during her husband's
clash with Alti?  This would bear some further consideration.  "Yes, I
agree.  Meantime, if you will excuse me, I need to get some more
reading done before it gets too much later.  Thank you for stopping
by, Angel."

"You're welcome," she smiled and departed from the area, wondering
what was going through the old man's head at that point.

***

On the ground floor, Steve, Karen, Francesca, and Dave sat anxiously
waiting for Angie to join them.  Alex's living staff had brought
coffee, hot water for tea, and scones for them in the meantime.  Since
Deirdre had popped them across the Atlantic to join the Duboises, the
others had remained on edge.  Even as they sat on the fairly modern
couches, the eerie feeling of the medieval manor house sent a buzz
through their systems.

Finally, Dave broke the silence, joking, "Hey, guys.  You aren't the
one who's being hunted here.  Chill out."

Steve quipped, "For someone in your situation, you seem remarkably
chipper."

"I'm just not letting it get to me is all," the medievalist replied
factually.  "If I did, I would be really vulnerable to my mood swings,
and I am not about to let my dark side out at the moment."

Karen shook her head in wonder at Dave's words.  He had come so far
since those first days.  "I'm glad to see you keeping your composure. 
Gram would be really proud of you right now."

Taking a sip from his coffee, the FBI agent concurred, "I'll agree
with that."  Seeing Francesca's confused glance, he explained, "His
grandmother, Janet Dubois."

"Oh," the Italian literature professor nodded uncertainly.

"Relax," Dave assured her.  "I'm sure your Aunt Beatrice would feel
the same way."

"As do we all," Angie agreed, walking downstairs from the study.
"Well, Grandpa Alex's plugging away on Dijon's background." Walking
over to the table, she selected a blueberry scone and plopped herself
down at her husband's side.  "How's it going, Hot Shot?"

"The same," her husband cracked.  "I think your grandfather's waiting
for me to explode.  Given how I treated your great-uncle Jonathan back
in the Sahara, I don't blame him one iota."

Karen and Steve stared at him expectantly.

Guessing their thoughts, Francesca recounted, "When Xena, Gabrielle,
Cybelle, and Dave went back to help them, our medieval historian here
acted more like a pit bull at times, especially around that poor man. 
Given how Alti's influence didn't help matters, I hope things are
better this time."

"They will be," Karen asserted, gripping Dave's hand.  "And we're all
here to make sure of that."

"Amen," Steve added, placing his hand on top of the other two.

"Ditto," Francesca chorused, doing the same.

"And, of course, that's goes without saying for me," Angie emphasized,
topping the mound of hands and kissing her companion on the cheek.

Dave grinned, "You know that the support makes it easier for me.
Thank you, everyone.  I mean it.  Thank you.  It's been a long road
for us all.  Hopefully, with this battle's ending will come a new
beginning."

The others beamed at his hopeful attitude.  Whatever was picking his
soul up at the moment; they prayed that it would stay around for the
duration and beyond.

***

Brother Tony meditated quietly in his room on the future.  The trip
across the Atlantic by means of the fog portal had been unbelievable. 
Given how things had accelerated since that morning, the elderly
minister wanted to prepare himself for the worst.  

"Just two days ago, I would have thought that I would be preparing
this weekend's sermon.  Now, here I am in England, assisting in battle
preparations," he sighed.  Running his hands along the sides of his
head, his fingertips ran across the old scars from LaCroix's attack so
many years before.  If anyone would understand why David needed to
deal with the Enforcers' threat, it was he.  Folding his hands, he
prayed, "Thank You for the reminder." With that, he continued his
meditation.

***

Meanwhile, Natalie sat on the edge of her bed, nervously gulping a cup
of coffee and trying to read that day's edition of The Times.
"Anything to get my mind off of my nerves, right?" she supposed,
flipping another page and scanning the contents.  But, try as she
might, her situation still hung heavily in the air.  The sight of Nick
with Alyce continued to upset her, however, didn't she feel something
for the FBI agent?  "C'mon, Nat.  Deal with it," she told herself.
"We don't need any other problems right now."  With that, she refilled
her coffee cup and returned to her reading.

***

Nick paced the length of his room, considering the possibilities in
front of the group.  Once they had started this endeavor, they would
be popping back and forth between the manor and their targets almost
in the fashion of the medieval chevaucee.  The former knight pondered
his own actions.  How would he react to being in those places once
again?  And what if he had killed Dijon in Rouen when he had the
chance to do so?  As with Jack the Ripper, he was left with regrets
and a possible dilemma.  "If anybody suffers, how much of the blood is
on my hands?" he wondered.

"Why would there be blood on your hands?" Alyce inquired, entering the
area.

"I could have stopped Dijon before.  If only I had just drained him,"
he argued, stalking across the room and filling his goblet with fresh
bloodwine made from a cow on the estate.  

"But, Nick, how would you have known what he would become?" the
curator countered, zipping to his side.  "I can sense that you've
always hated what we are.  Despite everything that barbarian did, you
still held to your principles."

"So I guess I should just accept the fact that it's not my problem
anymore," he shrugged.

She shook her head, disagreeing, "No, it is our problem, Nick.  It
just happens that Dave gets to deal with it.  Let's hope that he's
successful.  If the worst does happen, then it will fall to the rest
of us to confront the Enforcers.  Meantime, please don't keep playing
the scene over and over in your head.  It won't do any good."  

He managed a small smile and admitted, "I guess not.  Thanks, Alyce."

The curator grinned and embracing him, asserted, "You're welcome,
Nick.  Just know I'm here for you.  Now, let's just try to enjoy the
moment, okay?"

He nodded.  Sitting down on one of two red velvet chairs in the corner
of the room, he motioned to the adjoining seat.  She followed his lead
and for a while, they remained there, looking into each other's eyes.
 




Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 (Thanks to Jarvinia for suggesting
certain elements in this scenario.)

Chapter 10

[Toronto]

Inside of their warehouse hideaway, the renegade vampires awaited
their leader's arrival nervously.  In their previous two attempts to
rid the Community of the threats from Tucson, their efforts had only
made things worse.  First, Dijon's Enforcers had publicly attacked
Dubois and his friends in the midst of the University of Arizona
campus.  That blunder cost them six of their best hunters and
witnessed Xena regaining her immortal-killing powers.  In the second
instance, they thought that Alti and the Xena-clone would have tipped
the scales in their favor.  And, everything started off beautifully as
the shamaness delivered her lecture.  However, Dubois stood ready for
her attack, and, with the aid of his allies, defeated her once again. 
In addition, Dijon's challenge meant they couldn't touch him until the
duel.  The Elders had met and were after them.  Such were the fruits
of failure.

At 10PM, the leader entered the room with a rushed gait and sat in his
usual place.  He nodded, picking up on the nervous energy hanging in
the air, and inquired, "I take it we're ready to act, then?"

The Oriental vampiress slammed her fist on the oak table, noting, "How
can we?  Dijon's challenge means that we cannot move against the
accursed ones.  Both the Elders and the Enforcers have said as much!"

"Yes," the African-American immortal concurred, "At least not
honorably."

The leader nodded, "Go on...."

"But, we cannot do so!  You heard her!" the other stated.

"You said we couldn't honorably move against them.  Who says that we
have to stick to the older ones' rules?  The longer we hesitate, the
more powerful they become," he disagreed, producing a cell phone.

"What are you doing?" the Asiatic representative inquired.

"Taking matters into my own hands," the leader asserted, pressing a
button and allowing the device to speed-dial a preset number.

His compatriots glanced at him and each other with wonder.  At least
they had been righteous in their previous attempts.  However, what
honor would there be in this sneak attack?

The leader analyzed his comrades and moved quickly, saying, "Hello.
It's time."

A voice on the other end assured, "It will be done.  But what of
Dijon?  He is our leader."

"Never mind his foolishness.  I'm telling you to eliminate the vermin
now," the head renegade commanded. "Do you understand?"

"As I said, we will not fail you," the operative promised while
hanging up.

The leader hung up and looked over his comrades' faces, a feral smile
spreading across his own.  "Relax, Everyone.  I've just set the wheels
of our triumph in motion.  I think we'll have something to celebrate
by the end of the evening," he advised, pouring himself a goblet of
bloodwine.  "I think it's going to be a very good day after all."  A
slight chuckle escaped his lips before he continued, "A very good day
indeed."

***
 
[O' Connell Manor]

Outside of the mansion, seven shadowy figures watched the grounds very
carefully.  Their ruby-red eyes swept the area, looking for possible
problems.  These Enforcers had a very important mission: take out the
group inside of the manor house before they could be any further
threat.  

The group's leader, a swarthy Persian, hung up the phone.  With a
series of quick hand movements, he motioned to his compatriots,
indicating, "Mehmet, take the back.  Fibrano, take the left side.
Roget, take the right side.  I'll go in through the front with
everyone else,"

Mehmet, a Circassian Enforcer with a fiercesome reputation and an
attitude to match, agreed, "It shall be done."  

Fibrano, the Enforcer-supreme from central Italy, assented silently,
disappearing in a blur as did the French immortal.

"Follow me," the leading Enforcer dictated.  "And let's be careful."


*** 

Dave sat in the main area, concentrating on his friends' faces.  Being
in a medieval setting with some of his oldest compatriots surrounding
him was like Heaven to him. He decided to enjoy it, knowing that such
bliss wouldn't last very long....

At that moment, Angie tapped him on the arm, whispering, "Dave, did
you feel that?"

He scanned the area with his senses, expanding the zone with each
sweep.  Just outside the house, he picked up on several empty spots
approaching their position rapidly.  "Shit!" he growled.  "Damn it all
to Hell!"  Jumping to his feet, he ran for his duffels.  "Everyone,
get movin'!  Now!"

"David, what is it?" Eve probed.

"Several vampires," the oncologist revealed, reaching over her right
shoulder.  "Francesca, do it!" she advised while triggering her own
transformation.

The Literature professor followed suit, exchanging places with
Gabrielle.

"What is it?" Steve demanded, cocking his gun.  "The Community knows
the rules.  They wouldn't dare!"

His longtime friend strapped on his quiver and snickered darkly, "Do
you think they all care about the rules?  What about your group of
Renegades, Steve?"  After checking the tension of his bowline, he
noted, "Those spoilsport cheats are quite capable of this type of
activity.  You know that as well as I do."

The agent nodded nervously, glancing at the wall beside him, "Then,
I'm glad I prepared a little surprise for them."

"What should I do, Papa?" Deirdre inquired.

"Get Eve and Karen out of here," Xena advised, readying herself for
the inevitable attack.

The priestess reluctantly agreed, "Very well.  I'll take them to
Althanor."  Opening up the mists, she urged, "Come on."  After the two
women had entered the portal, she started through.  But, just before
disappearing, she told the remaining people, "I'll be back with help."
Having said that, she vanished from view.

The Warrior Princess grinned, muttering, "Looks like she has your
stubborn streak, David."

Chuckling mischievously, he retorted, "I would say it's more like
Angie's determination.  Anyhow, you ready?"

Brother Tony stuck his head out of the upstairs door, yelling, "There
are two monsters outside!"

"Get yourself to a secure place, lock the door, and say your best
prayers, Brother," Gabrielle suggested, unscrewing the ends of her
staff and revealing the javelin.  "We'll need them."

The elderly minister concurred, "You shall have them, my friends."
Then, he ducked back through the doorway, securing the portal behind
him.

"Okay.  Now what?" Steve probed.

At that moment, the second story windows exploded inward, raining
glass fragments everywhere.  Simultaneously, the fifteenth-century
oaken doors collapsed as well, allowing the intruders to enter the
house.

Dave glanced around at everyone.  Fortunately, nobody was seriously
hurt.  For a long minute, he looked about the area, recognizing the
immortals on the second story balcony.  "Some reception party," he
muttered, readying his bow.  Looking toward the front entrance, he
challenged, "Come out, Snake.  Come out, or I'll smoke you out!  You
should know you can't hide from us!  Let's go!"

The vampires surrounding the heroes snickered, "He thinks he can smoke
you out, al-Namari!"

"Suit yourself," Xena shrugged, giving her roommate's husband a quick
glance.  

He grinned wickedly, producing a shaft with a blue ball on the tip,
and lighting it on a nearby taper.  "Hope you fellows need your
supplements today," he hissed, firing the smoking projectile into the
dark entryway.  "That garlic oughtta get your attention!"

The arrowtip exploded, releasing a thick, cloying cloud throughout the
area.  Most noticeably, the pungent odor of garlic permeated
everything, blinding the immortal intruders and interfering with their
senses.

"Have fun with this, Boys," the Warrior Princess challenged, flinging
her chakram toward the upper level.  Even with the blind toss, the
circular weapon's path caromed off of the walls, ceiling, lamps,
before decapitating the three Enforcers on the overhang.  Having
served its purpose, it returned to her hand straightaway.

Dave grinned, "Three down.  Two to go.  My turn."  Priming his bow
with two more stake-shafts, he stared into the mists.  Despite the
fact that his own eyes were watering from the conditions, he
remembered to reach out with his senses.  About twenty feet in front
of him, the medievalist picked up on the other attackers and fired
without hesitation.  

From the mist, a scream pierced the silence along with an acrid stench
indicating that at least one of the arrows had found their mark.  But,
he knew that the leader was still lurking in the cloud.  

Then the Arab lunged, knocking his opponent to the floor, exclaiming,
"Ha!  Now, I shall claim the kill!"

"I don't think so!" the Amazon queen denied, stabbing through his
shoulder with her javelin.

The enraged vampire turned to face his new opponent for just a second.
But, with the distraction, he allowed Dave's mind to flip-flop again,
allowing the Child to emerge. 

"Hey, one par'ner at a time!" the Dark One chastised, slamming his
attacker with an energy pulse and sending the surprised Enforcer
across the room.  "Now, where were we?" he snapped.

By now, the mist had dissipated, allowing the opponents to see each
other.  Circling his chief mortal adversary carefully, the Arabian
Enforcer admired the dark power emanating from the young man in front
of him.  "What a pity one of us has to die," he remarked. Then, he
felt the sensation of cold steel slicing through him followed by the
sensation of nothingness.  Looking backward as he collapsed to the
floor, his last sight was of Xena whipping her bloody sword overhead. 


"Yeah, it's a cryin' shame, ain't it?" she scoffed.

"I...I'll see you all in Hell," the dying Enforcer spat before finally
succumbing to his fate.

"I'm glad that's it," Steve muttered in relief.

Hearing a crash from the other end of the house followed by screams,
Gabrielle disagreed, "I think we have some more uninvited guests."

"Great!" His Darkness snickered enthusiastically.  "More scum to
skewer!  'Mon!"  Rushing up the stairs, he blasted the door off its
hinges, rushing into the darkness ahead.

"If those dirtbags touch Natalie, there'll be a price to pay," Steve
asserted to himself.  Reaching into his own duffel, he produced a
crossbow and some bolts. Following his friends upstairs, he hoped he
wouldn't have to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 11

A few minutes earlier, Alex worked furiously on the works lying open
in front of him, hoping for answers.  A crash from the window across
the room broke his concentration.  Looking up, he recoiled at the
sight of the massive Enforcer standing there.  Remembering both his
and his mother's earlier studies, the elderly professor summoned all
of his courage, and asked, "What is your business here?"

"O' Connell, we meet again," Roget recognized.  "This time you won't
escape me!"  

The interloper's words jarred the archaeologist's memory.  It had been
in 1944 back in the Valley of Kings.  There, as a young man, he had
accompanied his parents, Rick and Evelyn O' Connell, and their friend,
Ardeth Bey, on an adventure.  There was something in the tombs....For
some reason, he couldn't remember what it was.  But, he did remember
that Nick was there, as was his master, LaCroix.  True to form, his
mother had released the thing, requiring the Enforcers' presence.  By
the skin of their collective teeth, the party managed to reinter
whatever was there.  "I've done nothing to violate your Code, Roget.
Since that day, I've said nothing of your kind to anyone."

"Oui.  Which is why we have permitted you to live to a ripe old age by
mortal standards.  But, by harboring Dubois and his associates, you
have doomed yourself," the French vampire hissed, advancing on him.

Alex noticed the door crack open slightly.  Through the opening,
Brother Tony slid into the area, holding his finger over his lips.

Despite these efforts, Roget smiled, announcing, "Come in, Mortal.
Come in and die!"

Tony produced his silver crucifix and a vial of holy water.  Holding
them up in front of him, he stated, "Do you think that I wouldn't be
prepared for your kind, Demon!  Not after that night so long ago!"

Scanning the newcomer, Roget snickered, "Yes, I sense one of us tried
to feed on you.  Too bad he missed."

"Unfortunately for you!" the minister shouted back defiantly.
Circling the immortal warily, he eyed the enemy's every move.

Roget retreated slightly from the holy symbol, considering his next
move.  With the speed of thought, he crossed the room and barred the
door.  "Now, we're alone.  And, I doubt you can keep up your defenses
all night!"

"Lord, help us," Tony invoked.

"And what will He do now?  Break down the door and kill me?" the
vampire hunter baited.  "Prepare for the end...both of you." At that
moment, he felt something coming toward the room.  "What now?"

Alex listened carefully.  From outside the door, a telltale growling
announced the presence of another presence.  His mind flashed back to
his other adventure with the Duboises.  That noise meant one thing,
and, if he was right, either help or further trouble was coming
quickly and the oak door wouldn't stop it.  "Brother, hit the deck
now!"

The ecclesiastic followed his host's directions, seeking a safe haven
from what was about to come through the barrier.

A second later, the door exploded inward, spraying the room with a
shower of shards. Dave, or rather, the Child, stepped through the now-
vacated area, grinning like a hungry panther approaching its prey.
"Well now.  'Nother playmate!  All right!" he snarled.

"Dubois!  Dijon will reward me for killing you!" Roget crowed.

The Dark Persona shrugged, "Big Brother ain't here.  You're dealin'
with me, scum-ass.  How 'bout backin' them pretty words up?"  From his
one open eye, a yellow glint further identified himself.  "Come on,
make my day!"

Roget spat, "My pleasure!"  Thus angered and his honor affronted by
the insolent mortal, the vampire charged forward right into a powerful
pulse which sent him into the far wall with a sickening thud.

"Your leader tried that on us and that boy's seriously dead.  Next,"
the Child sniggered, lighting one of his garlic bombs.  "Catch!"

The bomb exploded at the vampire's feet causing him to wheeze and gag.
"Argh!" he coughed.

"David!" Alex called.  "Quit toying with him!"

"Aw!  Hush up!  I'm havin' fun!" the enraged man snarled.  Looking
down, he saw three particularly big pieces of wood.  "Yeah!" he
realized, a particularly saucy gleam present in the left eye.
Focusing, he telekinetically lifted the shards and flung them across
the room.  Two of the pieces found each of Roget's shoulders, pinning
him to the wall.

The French immortal noted that the third piece had stopped right in
front of his chest and snapped, "Finish me!"

"In good time," the other combatant informed him.  " Don't fret now.
Soon, Mustard Boy will be joinin' ya!"  With that, another mental push
imbedded the makeshift stake in the Enforcer's chest, completing the
task.  "Rot in Hell!"  

"Lock yourselves in," the Child barked to the other men.  "I'm goin'
to help Xena!"  Turning, he bolted into the hallway, heading toward
the remaining battle.

***

From his outside vantage point, Fibrano sensed the others' failures
around him.  While retreating would seem to be the advisable option,
he felt a sense of duty pushing him onward.  "The mission.  I must
complete it," he realized.  Breaking through the window closest to
him, he came across Natalie reading on her bed.  "The coroner!" he
chuckled.

For her part, Natalie tensed.  Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the
top of a pine chair, advising, "Stay back.  I haven't done anything to
you."

"You know too much!" the attacker noted.  "For that, you die."

At that moment, twin blurs flew through the open door, tackling
Fibrano.  

"Who would dare?" he snarled.  Looking at the interlopers, he grinned,
"Brabant and Hunter, I'm glad you could make it.  I can finish you all
off at once."

"Not if we can help it!" Alyce challenged, albeit more courageously
than she felt.  Flying at the intruder, she backhanded him across the
face with little effect.

"I admire your dedication, Fledgling, but for striking an Enforcer,
you're finished," Fibrano announced, grabbing her arm hard and
flinging her to the floor.

Nick roared, "No!"  After all that he had lost to the vampire
community over the centuries, he wouldn't lose her too.  With a rush
of desperation, the former Crusader charged, ramming the other vampire
through the remaining window.

Regaining his balance, Fibrano realighted in the room.  His eyes
glistening bloody red and his fangs were descended.  "I see you care
about them, Nicolas de Brabant.  Still the chivalrous knight, eh?
Well, it doesn't matter, Chevalier.  I'll eliminate you first!" he
challenged.

Despite his bravado, Nick knew he couldn't defeat the Enforcer.  But
perhaps, he could buy the others a few minutes to escape.  Glancing at
Natalie and Alyce, he nodded to them.

Turning to the two women, Fibrano crowed, "Get ready.  You're next!"

From the open door, a familiar voice disagreed, "I don't think so!"  A
second later, a pair of wooden bolts penetrated the Enforcer's chest,
dropping the other to the floor and reducing him to a pile of ash.

Steve rushed into the room under a full head of steam.  "Natalie!" he
called, dropping the crossbow and embracing the coroner passionately. 
"Are you all right?"

"Just a little shaken up," she sighed.  "Thanks to you."  Kissing him
quickly, she smiled as the familiar warm feeling buzzed up her spine. 


The agent inquired, "How are you both?  That was risky business,
taking on an Enforcer like that."

"We couldn't let him hurt Natalie," Alyce explained.  "As I said to
her in the loft last night, I am her friend."

"No matter what happens, Nat, you still matter to us," Nick
emphasized, rubbing the ME's shoulder.  "I'm glad you two are happy."

"Thanks, Nick," she replied, surprising herself with her sincerity.
"It's nice to hear you say that."

"That goes double for me," Steve agreed.  "I'm glad you both are as
well."

At that moment, the two warrioresses followed by Dave reached the
scene.

Seeing the ashes, Xena stated, "I see everything's under control here.
Nice shooting, Steve."

"Thanks," he responded graciously.  "Nick and Alyce deserve a great
deal of credit too."

"They delayed the Enforcer until Steve could finish him," the coroner
added.  

"All well that ends well," Gabrielle stated.  "At least for now."

The Warrior Princess studied the medievalist carefully.  With every
crisis, he was forced to give increasing ground to his darkness.  If
this process continued, it would endanger everything.  "I hope so,
Gabrielle," she replied wistfully.  "But, we still have a long road
ahead of us."

"Right," the Child concurred and closed his eyes.  Within an eyeblink,
Dave reasserted control.

"Wow," he sighed, rubbing his head in an attempt to hold off the
impending headache.  "I guess the war starts early, doesn't it?  Trust
Dijon not to honor his word."  Looking at his companions anew, he
assessed, "Let's get some rest.  Tomorrow, we cross the Channel.  I
want some answers ASAP."

The others agreed.  While they would have liked to slowly approach the
issue, this trip wasn't a pleasure cruise.  Indeed, as the attack had
just proved, they were targets.  Best to deal with the situation and
move on.  Having realized that, they began to make their way toward
the downstairs area to check with Brother Tony and Alex before
retiring for the evening and preparing for their trip on the morrow.


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 12 [Tucson]

Schanke looked up at the bullpen clock anxiously.  "Only two more
hours to go," he told himself.  Seeing Tracy sit down in front of him,
he asked, "Anything on our latest John Doe?"

She shook her head, "Nothing.  You know, I really like Annie.  She's a
great kid and she's doing okay downstairs, but..."

"But, she not Natalie, right?" he guessed amusedly.  "Yeah, I know.
This is a tough enough case without her and Nick disappearing as they
have.  They do have their own problems."

The blonde detective ran her hand through her blonde hair and
admitted, "I know, Schanke.  It just doesn't seem fair that every time
a difficult case comes up, they go poof, leaving us to pick up the
pieces."

He chuckled knowingly, "Look, Tracy.  It comes with the territory when
you work with Nick.  You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed reluctantly while throwing on her coat.
"Keep the fort here.  I'm going to check something out."

"What?  Now, you're going to hold out on me?  Oh no, we're goin'
together," he argued, following her out of the precinct.

***

Twenty minutes later, Schanke's station wagon sat at the corner of
Kolb and 22nd Street.  It had been a relatively quick drive to this
part of town due to the time of the morning.  Nobody was awake except
for themselves and the clerks in the convenience store across the
street.

"Are you sure he's gonna show?" he protested warily, glancing around
at their surroundings.

"Sure," Tracy affirmed.  "Trust me.  He'll be here."  At that moment,
she heard a rapping on the door and saw Vachon grinning like a cat.
"See, I told you," she baited her companion while rolling down the
window.

"Hey, Trace," the Spaniard greeted.  "What's with Schanke?  I thought
we were doing this meet by ourselves."

The paunchy detective shot him an icy glare.  "I know about you guys. 
I figured that she might need backup."

The vampire chuckled amusedly at the statement.  "I got to give him
credit," he thought.  "But that Pillsbury Doughboy wouldn't make it
for ten seconds against my kind."  

"So is there any news?" she pushed.

"You mean about Dubois and his friends?  Actually, Janette received
some bad vibes from Nick if you get my drift earlier tonight," the
Iberian immortal started.

"What?  He's in trouble?" Schanke interrupted.  "Dang it!"

"Hey, Schanke, simmer down for a sec, okay?" she soothed.  With
everything else going on, they didn't need him going ballistic as
well.  Turning back to her 'source', she asked, "What happened?"

"Janette contacted Nick in England.  Apparently, the Enforcers broke
the agreement and attacked him and the others.  Everyone's okay.
Dubois went off the deep end again and took out two Enforcers.  Xena
killed four others.  And Petersen claimed the last one," Vachon
recounted.  

"Is there any other news?" Schanke insisted.

"According to Janette, everyone is just a little shaken up.  I gotta
tell you, Trace.  This looks bad.  As per the rules of the agreement,
nobody was supposed to touch Dubois until the duel," he noted.  

"Yeah, unless Dijon decided to cheat," she disagreed.  

The former conquistador shook his head, "No.  Even that weasel has a
code of honor.  Those Enforcers were doing so under another authority.
There are rumors circulating around the Community about a group of
renegade vampires who have been stirring up trouble.  Word has it that
they might be behind both of the Enforcers' attacks and Alti's
appearance on campus.  I wouldn't put it past them to instigate
another provocation."

"And could they attack again?" the souvlaki-loving detective wondered.

"Of course they could," the Spaniard cracked.  "But why would they
strike here?  If they did so, the Community would be truly up in arms.
Besides, would you want to mess with LaCroix?"

Schanke's eyes bulged and he gulped nervously, "Nope."

"My point exactly," the immortal stated.  "Well, back to my last
patrol.  Just thought you'd like the update."

"And how is everything around town?" she probed.

"Really quiet.  But then, when LaCroix makes it clear that he wants no
funny business, there won't be any, comprende?" Vachon revealed.  

Both detectives nodded.  

"Muy bien," the Spaniard smiled.  "By the way, this stays between us
three.  Understand, Schanke?"

"Right," the mortal detective concurred.

With a glimmer in his eye, the vampire took off into the night sky.
He had a great deal of ground to cover and the night was waning.

In his wake, the two detectives sat quietly wondering about their
friends and the events of the previous evening.  For a full fifteen
minutes, their minds swam with the knowledge of the attacks and the
reality that there was nothing that they could do about them.
Finally, seeing that they needed to get back before the shift change,
Schanke started the car and drove them back toward the precinct.
Nobody would get any sleep on that particular day.






Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 13 [O' Connell Manor]

For most of the morning, the staff toiled to sweep up the acrid
remains of the previous night's invaders and repair the damage from
the fighting.  Much of the antique and medieval woodwork had been
splintered, requiring a great deal of reconstruction work.  Some
things would never be replaced, while others would only exist now
either in reproductions or in the memories of the house's visitors.

To Alex, fighting in the house was not a new thing.  Indeed, he
remembered how the initial brawl over the bracelet had damaged much of
the downstairs area not to mention the master bedroom, the adjoining
bath and several Tiffany windows.  While all had been quiet over the
past six decades, it seemed that the battle craze had returned to
haunt his family anew.  "Mum, Dads, this all seems like déjà vu," he
muttered to the empty sitting room.

"I'm sure it was," Dave agreed, descending the stairs in his sweats
and a bathrobe.  "Good morning."

"And good morning to you too.  I see you've collected your wits once
again.  You had the good brother and me scared senseless last night,
you know," the elderly man informed him.

The medievalist scratched his head as he tried to pick memories from
the red haze surrounding them.  "As usual, I don't remember anything
past getting jumped by somebody and being pushed to the floor.  After
that, my next memory was lying next to Angie in bed this morning," he
explained.

"Are you sure, David?" the other pushed.

"Oh yes, I'm positive.  I guess my other self came out, didn't it?
But then, this isn't the first time you've seen it," the younger
professor assumed.

The old man nodded, "I remember your 'other self' quite well from my
childhood, David.  You scared my uncle half to death, and I wasn't
that far behind."

Dave shrugged, "Alti's presence had a lot to do with that.  Besides,
your uncle challenged him from what he told me.  I do remember most of
the fighting with the mummies later.  Still, this is something I'm
dealing with on a daily basis, Alex.  Having those SOBs on my tail
isn't helping matters any."

"No, I suppose it isn't," Alex guessed.  "So, what do you all do now?"

"We leave for France tonight.  Angie, Steve, and I agreed on that much
last night apparently," the medieval history professor explained.  "I
want to be in Rouen as soon as possible."

"But, you will need to take the shuttle and it stops running after a
given point," the archaeologist argued.  "At least stay another
night."

"And risk another attack?  I want to confront Dijon as soon as
possible," the other countered.  "For Angie's sake as well as everyone
else's, I want this mess behind us.  Besides, I have alternate
transportation arranged."

As if on cue, the mists formed in the corner and from them, Deirdre
stepped into view.  "Hi, Papa, Great-Grandpa.  Everything's set."

Alex stared at the woman who had just entered the room.  "Great-
Grandpa?" he asked.  "Who?"

The young priestess rolled her eyes and patiently declared, "I'm
Deirdre.  Trust me, I've done some growing since the last time you saw
me."

The old archaeologist scanned his great-granddaughter with concern.
"The last time I saw you, you were six years old.  So how?" he
demanded.

"Ancient Celtic secrets, Grandpa Alex," Angie mentioned while
descending the stairs to join them.  "Good morning, everyone."

"I see the fighting got really intense here last night," Deirdre
noted.  "Was anyone hurt?"

"Not really, unless you count the Enforcers," her father replied.
"How are Eve, Karen, and your Aunt Cybelle?"

"Eve and Aunt Karen are waiting to get back here.  As for Aunt
Cybelle, she's healing quickly and should be back on her feet in two
more days," his daughter stated.

"In time for the duel, I hope," Dave wished.

"If it's going to happen in Rouen, then she won't be there in time,"
Angie interjected.

"It's not going to happen there," the medievalist countered.  

"But wasn't that where you two were supposed to meet?" she inquired in
confusion.

"Oh, we'll meet there all right," Dave affirmed.  "But, we'll have two
other stops to make before the true battle takes place.  I'll show you
if there's a map of France available."

Alex guided them over to the far bookshelf and pulled a French atlas
from the shelf.  "Will this do?"

"It's fine.  Thank you," the younger professor accepted, opening it to
the map of France.  "Okay, we'll be making two trips into France.
First, we'll head to Rouen.  Then, we go to Orleans. There, we'll find
out where the battle will take place."

"If you say so," his wife agreed skeptically. "But why all of the
stops?"

"Because of the information in each place.  Rouen is first because of
the set meeting point.  Orleans is second due to the scholarly
archives there.  From there, we'll just have to wait and see," Dave
detailed.  "I need every piece of information on this dirt bag to beat
him and for some motivation in the process.  Now, rest up everyone.
We leave at sunset."

***

 Meantime, Nick was lying on the bed, wondering what was going to
happen next.  By the Elders' decree, the Enforcers should have stayed
clear of them.  Yet, the attack occurred.  He imagined that LaCroix
would have been most displeased when the news reached his ears.
Retaliation would be swift once the guilty parties had been ferreted
out.  On the progress of their company, the former Crusader knew that
they would be leaving soon.  Sometime either that night or the next,
he imagined that Dave and Xena would be walking with him toward the
medieval section of town.  Remembering Dijon's challenge, he imagined
that was where the head Enforcer would be waiting for them.

A knock came from the door, stirring him from his reverie.  "Yes?"
Using his senses, he discerned that it was Alyce.  "Come in, Alyce.
It's okay," he told her.

The door creaked open, allowing the curator to enter.  She still
looked a little shaken from their encounter with Fibrano, but
otherwise, was none the worse for wear.  "Thanks, Nick.  I was hoping
that you were okay."

"I'm fine," he assured her.  "But you took a real chance.  Remember,
you're still a fledgling.  Fibrano was an Enforcer who would've staked
you without a second thought."

"And I was supposed to let him kill Natalie?" she supposed.  "Look,
Nick, I may have been angry with her when it came to you, but she's
still a good person.  You can't tell me that you would've let her
die."

"No, I wouldn't have.  But, I might have stood a better chance of
holding Fibrano off for an extra minute or two until both of you could
escape.  Fortunately, Steve made sure that wouldn't happen," he
countered.  "I just don't want anything to happen to you, Alyce."

"Nick, you aren't a knight anymore.  Trust me, we females can defend
ourselves.  Just ask Janette when we get back," she argued.
"Meanwhile, will you trust me?  I do want your advice and I'm sorry I
jumped in rashly.  I promise to be more careful.  Now, will you please
relax?"

"I wish I could, Alyce.  I wish I could," he sighed, looking up at the
ceiling.

For her part, the curator spent much of the day with him, trying to
make him feel better and wondering about their future in light of the
developing circumstances surrounding them.



Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 14 [Rouen]

Night had descended upon the ancient Norman capital on the Seine.
Although the metropolis thrived as a modern regional center, the
city's historical past continued to draw many visitors every year for
numerous purposes.  Battles had been fought over this hamlet and great
events had occurred there.  At every turn of the area's history, Rouen
had been a key part of the process.

***

The historic district lay quiet as everyone seemed to stay at home for
some reason.  In an alleyway, the familiar fog patch opened, allowing
Nick, Dave, Angie, and Deirdre to walk into the city unnoticed.

"Okay," Dave smiled, taking a deep whiff of air.  "We're here.
Deirdre, can you disguise yourself like your aunt can?"

"Sure, Papa," she agreed, waving her hands.  In an eyeblink, her robes
had been exchanged for tourist garb.  "How's this?"

"Perfect," he agreed.  "Okay, Nick.  Which way?"

"Follow me," the former knight indicated, leading them out of the
alley.  

For an hour, the foursome walked through the maze of streets, admiring
the historic architecture, and trying to keep focused on what they
were there to do.  Around them, the building style became more and
more remotely tied to the past.  Finally, in one of the oldest parts
of the city, the style was firmly Norman.

"So where's the marketplace?" Angie wondered.

"Just ahead of us," Nick mentioned.  They crossed a street and found a
church in a relatively modern style standing in front of them.  

"Her church, right?" Dave acknowledged

"Yes," the vampire detective agreed.  "And see where the chained area
is?  That was the spot."

A slight ripple passed through the medievalist's consciousness.  "So
is this it?"

"Almost," Nick replied.  "Patience, Dave.  We're almost there."

At that moment, the professor felt something else.  "Yes, and he's
close by," he informed the others.

His companions also scanned the area.  Noticeably close, they felt one
particular empty spot.

"If it's Dijon, I'd best get ready," Angie muttered, ducking behind
the corner of the nearest building.  Pulling the sword, she changed
into the Warrior Princess and rejoined her friends.

"Okay, David," Xena stated, pulling on the trenchcoat which Angie had
left behind for her.  "So, when's he going to show up?"

In the darkness ahead, Dave noted a large man walking toward them.
"Dijon, stop right there!"

"Greetings, Dubois.  Es une belle soir, no?" the medieval Enforcer
baited.  

"Other than the sudden stench, I'd say it's an enchanting evening,"
Dave taunted.  

The Burgundian vampire snarled briefly before continuing, "I see you
brought allies.  Hello, Brabant.  And Xena, you can take off the coat.
It's much too warm for that thing."

The Thracian warrior stripped off the disguise, remarking, "Funny, I
thought it was just right."  Drawing her sword, she snarled, "I
suppose you were behind the ambush last night?"

Dijon sighed, "Believe it or not, that little party wasn't my idea.
Those fools were operating on their own.  I would never have attacked
you so clumsily."

"No, you just let Alti or your flunkies do your dirty work for you,
right?" Dave chuckled, placing a shaft in his bow and readying it.

"No, Dubois.  When the time comes, I'll deal with you myself.  But, I
must thank you for disposing of those ingrates for me.  You saved me a
great deal of trouble," Dijon explained, allowing a bit of impatience
to seep into his voice.  

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, scum," the
professor snarled, allowing his dark side to surface just a bit.
"Remember the last time we tangled?  The next time, I'll be looking to
finish the job."

Xena and Nick glanced anxiously at each other.  How much farther could
this spitting match go without a fight breaking out?

Sensing the others' anticipation, the vampire hunter assured them, "It
is not yet time for that match to occur.  As I said before, it is a
beautiful night.  Enjoy it.  Have a glass of wine or a fine meal and
treasure the time you have left.  We'll meet soon enough."

"So, where is this battle to take place if not here?" Nick demanded.

"In a familiar place to you, Crusader," the Enforcer scoffed.  "A
great distance to the east where you and your rabble sent me into
exile-to fight and to die at the hands of the Turk."

Nick shook his head, debating, "You forced yourself into exile with
your own barbarity, Dijon.  Even as a mortal, you were the most
despicable of knights and a threat to those around you, be they
English, French, or even your fellow Burgundians."

Dijon shook his head fiercely, promising, "Once I am done with him,
Brabant, you will be the next on my list.  I don't care what LaCroix
has to say on the matter!  I'll stake him as well!"  Looking up to the
night sky, he concluded, "Take care, mes ami.  We'll do business soon
enough!"  With that, he disappeared in a flash, leaving no trace of
himself behind.

"Well, that was special," Dave snarled.  "All of his bantering for
nothing."

"We did get a clue, David," Xena reminded him.  "If Nicholas can tell
us where to go."

Nick detailed, "Dijon was sent into exile by his own father in 1443.
From what I heard, he was sent to Rome and then, to the east."

Dave realized, "Nick, did he fight at Varna?"

"He was in the Crusading army from what I remember," the former knight
recalled.  "So, that's where he fought.  But where did he die?  Nobody
knows for sure."

"One thing's clear," the Warrior Princess surmised.  "We're heading
for this Varna, wherever that is."

"It's close to your neck of the woods," Dave informed her.  "On the
Bulgarian Black Sea coast near Greece.  As for the information on
Dijon, I remember hearing that there was documentation being held at
Alyce's former stomping grounds in Orleans. But, I wonder why his
papers aren't being kept in Dijon in the ducal archives?"

"Perhaps, when his father cast him out, all traces and records were
discarded as well.  I would think that the French government picked
them up,"  Nick guessed.  

"And because he was a big player in Jeanne d'Arc's fate, the papers
were moved to her Centre at that Universite.  Interesting and ironic. 
So, do you think Alyce can get us in there?" the professor asked.

"She's still very well thought of there.  I'm sure she can help you,"
his immortal colleague assured.   Noticing the sky starting to turn
faintly pink, he advised, "Umm, can we get back before I roast?"

"Relax," Deirdre soothed, opening up the portal.  "All aboard."  Xena
and Nick hurried into it.  

Dave took one last glance across the street.  For a split second, he
thought he saw a white light flash reflecting off of the metal plaque.

"Papa?" the priestess inquired.  "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" he asked, coming out of his reverie.  "Yes, let's go."  With
one last glance, he stepped into the fog.

Deirdre studied the scene for a long minute.  It was a church and some
sort of site unknown to her.  "But it is having an effect on Papa,"
she reminded herself.  "If it's important to him, it's important to me
too."  With that, she jumped into the mists, allowing them to
dissipate behind her on the morning breeze.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 15  [O' Connell Manor]

Brother Tony sipped on his cocoa methodically.  For the entire
evening, his attention had been wrapped around the scriptures in his
well-worn Bible.  Ever since he heard that David, Nicholas, and Angela
had gone to Rouen in search of the vampire Enforcer, Bertrand du
Dijon, the minister had prayed fervently for their return.

Eve approached him carefully.  For hours, she had tried to meditate,
but something told her to talk with her colleague.  Accordingly, she
inquired, "Excuse me, Brother Tony?  Is there something I can do?"

He snapped to attention, replying, "Oh, Eve!  I'm sorry!  Could you
repeat your question?"

"I was wondering if I could do something for you," she repeated
herself.

"Not unless you could kill that demon, not to mention that dark thing
inside of David," he noted.  "I'm worried for them.  Going in search
of that vampire after the events of last night.  It's insane!"

"I trust in both David and my mother to take care of themselves," the
former Messenger assured him.  "Besides, he needs this journey for his
inner self in any event."

The minister nodded, "I'm sure you're right.  When he and Angela were
married, I was so sure he was a good person.  Now, I don't know....."

She glared at him, "Brother, please!  I know we're under a lot of
stress, but don't judge him like that!  He is a good person, a
wonderful teacher, a loyal husband, and a loving father.  Is it his
fault he was mistreated growing up?"

The elderly man sighed contritely, "My apologies, Eve.  You are
correct of course.  I remember what he said to me about Stuart and
Sarah.  I can't believe she would treat him like that.  She seems like
such a nice person."

"Since I've never met her, I can't say," she continued.  "But
apparently, she was going through her own problems and had a hard
enough time dealing with them, never mind David's as well.  She shut
him out except to chastise him.  Pain, Brother, breeds pain.  After
this is over, we need to work on him in that regard."

He beamed at her words.  "Eli's words truly made their mark on you,
Eve.  While I'm not an Elisian, I respect your mentor's teachings and
the wisdom contained within them.  Thank you for showing me the way
out of my fear."

"My pleasure," she smiled and bowed her head ever so slightly.  Then,
noticing the mists forming across the room, added, "It looks like
they're returning."

"Indeed," he agreed, rising from his chair.  

From the mists, the foursome emerged.  Dave and Nick had earnest
expressions on their faces.  Xena glanced around at their surroundings
and asked, "What's been going on here, Eve?"

"Nothing, Mother," the Elisian informed her.  "We're waiting to hear
how you all made out."

"We ran into Dijon all right," Dave muttered.  "And he threw another
puzzle at my feet for us to solve."

"But, Xena, since you're here, there must have been trouble," Brother
Tony supposed.

"No, there wasn't," the Warrior Princess disagreed.  "But, I felt it
prudent to be prepared.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll let you talk
to Angela."  Sheathing the sword, she concentrated and in a flash,
Angie stood in her place.

"Everything's okay, Brother Tony," the oncologist assured.  "We know a
little more than we did before."

"We do?" Steve's voice echoed from the second story above where he
stood with Natalie, Karen, Alyce, and Francesca.  "What did you find
out from His Creepiness?  Did he sic his goons on us last night?"

"He denies responsibility," Nick commented.  "They were operating on
their own."

"And we have at least two more stops on our mystery tour," Angie
continued.  

"Alyce, I'll need your help on the next one," Dave requested.  "I'll
need a reference for the Centre de Jeanne d'Arc in Orleans."

"I know the director very well.  I'll see if Dr. O' Connell will let
me use a phone in a safe place to make arrangements for us," the
curator agreed.

"Thank you," the medievalist replied.  "Meanwhile, Alex and I can go
over more notes."

"Great," the FBI agent smiled.  "More down time for the rest of us."

Natalie shot him a dirty look and nudged him in the ribs, saying, "We
had enough excitement here the night before last for at least a week. 
When we get to wherever we're going, you'll see your action."

"Let your superiors know that we're making progress," Angie reported.

Steve nodded and left the room along with the coroner followed by the
fledgling vampiress.

Karen probed, "What else happened there, Dave?"

"What?" he wondered.

She frowned, "If you were where I think you were, something should
have happened."

He shrugged, "Nothing much.  But wait a minute!  As we were leaving, I
saw this white light reflecting off of the plaque in the Old
Marketplace.  It was still too early for daylight and the street
lights weren't bright enough to do it."

The minister smiled and thought to himself, "The Lord is watching over
him.  Thanks to Him!"

"What are you getting at, Aunt Karen?" Deirdre pursued.  "Papa was
staring at a spot beside the Church and something was there.  I
couldn't tell what it was, but I did feel an energy surge."

"It's a long story," the nurse advised her goddaughter.  "Just know
that your father has a special tie to that place."

At that moment, Angie realized the significance of the gift from his
grandfather.  Before the battle with Divia and Hope in Wabash,
Lorenzo's spirit had given David a special book.  She remembered the
way he treated the book with extra reverence ever since.  "And we were
there," she realized.

"Yes, we were," her husband agreed, sensing her meaning.  "Now, let's
get some rest.  I want to get some more research done here this
afternoon before Deirdre takes us to Orleans."

"Sounds good," his wife concurred while walking upstairs toward their
bedroom and leaving the others to wonder what would happen next.

     
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 [Xena Spoilers: "The Haunting of
Amphipolis," "Heart of Darkness," and "The God You Know".]
(Additional Thanks to McLisa for her suggestions about the second part
of Nick's flashback in this chapter.)

Chapter 15 [Heaven]

Michael stared into the viewing pool with great interest at the events
occurring below.  Scratching his chin, he smiled, "Yes, everything's
going according to plan."

Raphael probed, "How did the meeting proceed?"

"Everything is right on track," the blonde archangel noted, picking up
the special sword once again.  "Soon, I will be giving this to Dubois.
I hope he can do the job required of him."

"I'm sure he can, Michael," his ebon-haired associate declared.  "But,
what will be the consequence of his act?  If he eliminates Dijon, then
what happens to him?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, to rid ourselves of Mephistopheles, we used Xena and nearly
condemned her to Hell.  Lucifer was manipulated into the role.  Then,
Eve would have been sacrificed to rid the world of Caligula.  Isn't
there another way besides manipulating these mortals?" Raphael
proposed.

Michael frowned and disagreed, "Ours isn't to question the Greater
Good, Raphael.  True, Xena has circumvented the Greater Good before,
interfering in the flow of events in the process. This time, we need
to make sure that everything is followed to the letter."

"So, you'll give him the sword in Orleans," his associate guessed.

"Not exactly.  You'll tell him to wait for me to bring him the sword. 
Then, I'll take it from there," the other archangel informed him.  

"That's really unclear, Michael," Raphael wondered in confusion.
"Will he understand?"

 "Oh, trust me," the chief archangel assumed confidently.  "Dubois is
one of only a few people who will get the meaning of this scenario.
Now, you'd best get yourself and Lorenzo ready, it won't be long now."
With that, he returned to his vigil, leaving the other angel to ponder
what was happening next.

***

[Orleans, France]

Just outside of the Musee d' Antiquities, the fog portal opened,
allowing Nick, Alyce, Angie, Dave, and Deirdre to step onto the
ancient grounds.  

For Alyce, the air smelled sweet.  Despite the longing for Nick, her
time here had been enjoyable and the ambiance was spectacular.  She
had performed exciting research upstairs in her office.  Besides, the
rooftop views of the Loire from the surrounding buildings took her
breath away.  Rousing herself, she informed her consorts, "Follow me."
Proceeding down several twists between the imposing structures, the
curator stopped in front of one particular building.  "Here we are,"
she stated, knocking on the door.

The door creaked open, revealing a slender man with snowy-white hair
and a stern expression.  "Yes?" he asked expressionlessly.

The curator stepped forward and smiled, "Good Evening, Monsieur
DeBonay.  How are you?"

"Mon Dieu!  Dr. Harris, it's good to see you!" DuBonay exclaimed.
"We've missed you!  When I heard that you were coming, I was hoping I
would run into you."

"You're too kind," she admitted.  "I want to introduce you to my
colleagues from Tucson whom I mentioned to Professor Mulveaux.  The
man on my left is Nick Miles.  To his left are David and Angela Dubois
from the University of Arizona.  Finally, this young lady is their
friend, Deirdre...."

"Deirdre Priestess," the priestess remarked.

"Very well," the gatekeeper agreed.  "If you would like, the archives
are this way.  Follow me."

The group followed him inside.  After descending a grand set of marble
stairs and winding through ancient halls, they entered the reading
room.  The area held three long reading tables in its center
surrounded by a ring of locked down shelves.  On the first table,
three very old tomes with brown covers and parchment pages were
awaiting them.

"I hope you don't mind," DuBonay excused himself.  "I took the liberty
of pulling the accounts of the battle of Compiegne as well as any
other records from our archives on Burgundy."

"That's fine.  Merci," Dave accepted.  "Do you need me to make out any
forms?"

"No, they've already been taken care of.  I trust Dr. Harris's
assessment of the project.  Bon chance with your research.  Just let
me know when you're ready to depart," the caretaker informed him
before departing.

The medievalist sat down next to the record accounts and cracked open
the first one.  In the dim light, his eyes needed a second to adjust
to the fifteenth century miniscule.  "Now I'm glad I hung in there for
that paleography class," he remarked to himself.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Angie inquired, straining to
understand the text in front of her husband.  

"Links between then and now.  Ties between Dijon, Jeanne, Charles, his
father, and the crusade," he stated.

"Trust me, I can attest to the links between Dijon and Jeanne.  I was
there," Nick affirmed.  "You know he was at Compiegne as well as
Rouen.  What's the point?"

"I need to find something tying him to the East.  I need some insight
into his character as a mortal," the professor insisted, burying his
face in the books.

The former Crusader gazed at the far wall, his eyes running over the
ancient French script on the bindings.  "Insight...It seems like
yesterday," he muttered.  With that, his mind flashed back.

***
[Castle of Philippe Augustus, Rouen, May 1431-In between the second
and third flashbacks for "For I Have Sinned"]

Nick kept to the spy room adjacent to the prison's main cell.  Due to
the fact that the daylight was still too strong outside made this
situation necessary.  But there was another reason.  For within that
cell, the prison's celebrity inmate, the woman whom Nick had called
"Courage" languished under English guard.  Despite his doubt
concerning the veracity of her mission, the vampire admired her
conviction even in the face of great odds.

On this particular day, the English had dragged her back out to be
retried for heresy.  As Nick had observed, the soldiers had only left
her with male apparel.  Thus, to remain within the realm of decency,
she had to break her agreement.  Furthermore, she had once again
stated that her voices-those belonging to Sts. Margaret, Michael, and
Catherine-were indeed valid.  These circumstances had allowed her
jailers to bring her back before the Bishop of Beauvais' court and a
death sentence would certainly come out of that gathering.

"What a pity," he thought.  "If only she had let me bring her across
before the very Church she seeks to protect executes her."  Looking
out from his sanctuary, he noticed that the sun had set.  Accordingly,
he was free to move about.

At that moment, the procession of guards marched up the stone stairs. 
The gaggle pushed their prisoner toward her bench and manacled her to
the wall.  Once done, most of them left her alone, satisfied with her
impending fate.  

For her part, Jeanne showed no fear of her surroundings.  Not even
when one particularly menacing knight with Burgundian colors
approached her and laughed, "So here you are!  Where are your
protectors now?"

She glanced up at him skeptically, "Have a care, Burgundian.  If you
care for your own soul, you'll not make light of them."

He glared in her face menacingly, "I have no such fears, Woman.  I go
to Mass and do my duty to God.  And if you try any kind of witchcraft
on me, I won't wait for Chauchon to burn you."

"What can I do to you that you aren't already doing to yourself?" she
scoffed defiantly.  "Trust me, Bertrand du Dijon, for standing with
the enemies of France, I fear for you."

Dijon raised his hand to backhand her, but, just before the blow could
be struck, Nick seized the other knight's hand, stating, "Dijon,
that's enough!"

The Burgundian spun to see his mysterious fellow knight standing
there.  "Nicolas, unhand me!  I demand you do so!"

"No.  Not until you back off.  She's taken enough from you and your
men.  Especially after you switched her clothes and pushed her to the
fire," the Brabantine argued.  Then, gazing into the other's eyes, he
suggested hypnotically, "You have no further reason to be here.  You
feel tired.  Go home, get some sleep, and prepare for tomorrow.  I
will stand guard here."

"Prepare...for...tomorrow.  I'll rest," the dazed man agreed.
Turning, he descended the stairs, leaving the other two people to
themselves. 

"So did they condemn you?" Nick inquired.

She nodded, "Oui.  Tomorrow morning, I go to meet the flames.
Nicolas, as much as I don't approve of your nature, I suppose I should
thank you for stopping that brute.  For all of your protestations to
the contrary, you are a good person."

"We've already talked of this matter," he debated.  "I am what I am,
girl!  I left my humanity behind 200 years ago!"  Turning to her, he
offered, "My proposal earlier still stands.  Let me bring you across. 
I can save you, take you away from here.  You would still be able to
wage your war."

She shook the offer off, declaring, "No thank you.  I know you wish to
save me from the flames.  Yes, if I agree to your offer, I could wage
endless battles and drive the English out of here all together.
Perhaps, I would even conduct a crusade on behalf of Mother Church.
But, to do so mired like you in eternal darkness, I couldn't bear it. 
To be without the Mass or the voices would be intolerable."

"But that very Church is going to execute you in the morning.  How can
you believe in it still?" he protested.

"Everything happens for a reason, Nicolas.  Remember what I told you
before I was captured?  You aren't beyond God's reach, nor are you
beyond salvation.  I sense a light inside of you and I  have been told
you are a good person still--despite your condition," she smiled.

"Your voices told you that, I suppose?" he inquired, albeit not as
skeptically as before.

"Oui," she nodded.  "They have told me of the darkness with which you
struggle and the light flickering within you.  One day, you too will
meet them."

"How will I know?" he probed.

"Trust me, you will know," she affirmed.  "Now, if you would permit me
to do so, I would like to pray before they come for me." She folded
her hands and began to chant Hail Marys fervently.  

Nick, for his part, hung back against the wall and watched her
activity.  For a brief second, he could almost make out a light, a
bright corona, about her figure.  "Truly, she is special," he assessed
to himself.  Then, he made up his mind to watch her until they came.

***

[A few hours later--following the execution and the last flashback to
"For I Have Sinned"]

Nick hid his face with a cloak in order to block out the harmful
sunlight and the acrid smell from the marketplace outside.  "At least
she died a hero," he muttered.  "Still, it's quite a waste."

"Won you over, did she?" Dijon's voice snickered behind him.  "I
wonder where your loyalties really are, Nicolas?"

"They are with Brabant and to myself," the former Crusader murmured.  

"And, as Brabant is a part of my duchy, you are my liege man!
Something you would do well to remember!" the Burgundian snapped,
slapping the vampire knight across the face.

"Actually, he belongs to a higher power, I'm afraid," another voice
disagreed.  The source stepped out of the shadows.  The hooded figure
was tall, slender, and had an air of self confidence about it.
"Political ties are so transitory after all."

Nick's senses penetrated the disguise and determined the speaker's
identity almost at once.  "LaCroix?"

"Yes, Nicholas," his master stated, removing his hood to reveal the
sculpted Roman features.  "To think, I almost missed this spectacle.
I arrived in town just before it occurred.  You know how these things
are."

"And Janette?" Nick posed.

"Ah.  She stayed behind in Paris.  Still, I've come to check up on
you.  I've been getting some strange--almost perverse--vibrations from
you lately.  I'd say that the good bishop and his cohorts acted in
time," the former Roman noted.  "You do need to stay away from
such...distractions to your nature."  Sensing the doubt within the
younger vampire, he snarled, "Remember who you are, Nicholas!  You are
what you are!  You are what I made you!  If you think that snip of a
girl or her voices can save you, then you are mistaken!"

"Well spoken, Monsieur," Dijon complemented.  "But, I still have a
greater hold over Nicolas than you."

LaCroix shook his head.  He knew all about the other man's martial and
leadership abilities.  And, for those reasons, he was really hoping
that he wouldn't have to kill the Burgundian.  "Be advised, you have
no idea with what you're meddling with.   You would be wise to retreat
now."  

"Are you threatening me?" Dijon laughed, drawing his sword.  "I'll
cleave you in half, Braggart!"  Swinging the weapon, he tried to
strike the vampire Elder with it. 

However, LaCroix grabbed the hand in an iron grip, wrenching the sword
away from his attacker.  Locking eyes with Dijon, he stated, "You will
get up and leave.  Nicholas is none of your concern.  Go back to your
duchy."

The Burgundian lord stared blankly at the immortal, nodding, "Yes,
I...will leave."  With that, he shook his hand free and left the area
quickly.  Outside of the donjon, he climbed on his horse and took off
for the east.

LaCroix smiled and remarked, "You see, Nicholas?  Persuasion is a
worthy art.  You should master it yourself instead of being mastered
by it."

The younger vampire frowned at the thought.  Somehow, Jeanne had
influenced him.  While he didn't know how, he knew that everything was
indeed starting to change....

***

[Modern Day]
    
Nick shook himself back to his current surroundings in time to see
Dave rise from his studies.  From the depth of his flashback, the
vampire detective guessed he had been "under" for a few hours at
least.  "Did you find anything?" he probed.

"Yes, he went east all right.  According to these documents, his
father sent him to Rome.  The Pope, in need of good leaders,
dispatched him with his army to Varna to face the Ottomans and Mehmet
the Conqueror.  After the battle, the heralds failed to find his
corpse.  Nor was he among the prisoners.  In fact, nobody had heard
from him until some 33 years later," Dave reported.

"Thirty-three years later?" Angie gasped.  "What?"

"Reports sprung up across Europe of a soldier of Dijon's description
lurking around the remains of the battlefield around Lake Constance
after the Swiss had mopped up Charles the Rash's army there.  With
that battle, the whole ducal power of Burgundy declined.  No more male
heirs.  At least, no mortal ones were left to claim the throne," Nick
continued.  "Isn't that what you found too?"

"Exactly," the medievalist concurred.  "Whatever the answer is, we'll
need to head east.  The only place he could have gone was to Istanbul.
And that's where we'll go next."

At that moment, a bright light shone in the corner.  Alyce and Nick
backed away from it.  However, Dave and Angie moved closer to it.

"What?" the oncologist asked.

Within the glow, Raphael materialized with a stern look on his face.
He studied the others to insure that only those ears meant for his
message would hear it.  Once satisfied, he stated, "You are partially
right, David Dubois.  Yes, you will have to go to Istanbul, but you
will need one other thing first."

"What else do we need?" Dave asked.  "We've been to Rouen and here.  I
have the knowledge and having faced Dijon before, I know I can deal
with him.  Begging your pardon, where else is there?"

"You will need a special weapon to face the accursed one," the
archangel explained.  "And Michael will give it to you.  Good luck."
Having said that, he vanished into thin air.

For a long minute, everyone sat stunned with Raphael's message.
Finally, Alyce asked, "So, does that mean we're done here?"

"We are," Nick affirmed.  "We need to get back to the others."

"And get ready to head to our next stop," Dave concurred.  

The curator went to find DeBonay for assistance while Deirdre willed
up a portal, taking Nick and Angie with her.  A moment later, the
caretaker for the collection had inspected Dave's work and escorted
them out of the facility.

Once outside, Dave and Alyce looked around for their transportation.
Sunrise wasn't far off, therefore, she needed shelter.

In fairly quick fashion, the mists appeared in front of them.  The
young priestess stuck her head out of the fog, advising, "Come on,
Papa, Dr. Harris." After her associates had joined her within the
cloud, she closed the portal behind her, leaving no trace behind.



Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 17

[O' Connell Manor]

Steve polished his gun nervously and glanced about.  During his last
conversation with the Tucson office, the head field operative, an old
prude named Farrell, had insisted he keep matters under control.
"Like I'm going to step between Dijon and Dave. Yeah, right," he
muttered to himself.

"Are you okay?" Natalie wondered, making her way over to his side.  

He wanted to lie, flash that charming smile, and tell her that
everything was all right.  For the first time in his life, the b.s.
failed him.  "No, I'm worried about my boss.  He wants an iron clad
explanation of all this stuff."

She bit her lip and asked, "What did you tell him?"

"I told him we were making progress.  Well, in accordance with the
book, he wants a progress report.  What do I tell him, Natalie?  That
we're chasing around France looking for clues so that one of my high
school classmates can eliminate a soldier who's been dead for 500
years?  Imagine how that would sound!" he reported.

She shrugged, "I've been there repeatedly covering for Nick with our
captains in Toronto and now in Tucson.  Somehow, I've managed to put a
positive spin on everything.  Don't worry, we'll get through this one
too."

"I hope so," he sighed, rubbing her hand.  "You're a God-send,
Natalie.  You know that?"  Kissing her on the cheek, he continued,
"Thank you."

She flushed a bit.  For years, she had waited for Nick to express his
love.  "Where were you during that time?" she wondered inside of her
head while looking at the agent and reveling in his feelings for her.

***

Francesca paced around the length of her bedchamber.  Ever since the
group had left for Orleans, she had been a nervous wreck.

"I know somebody needed to stay back here," she noted.  "But, wouldn't
Karen and Eve have been enough for that?  That's twice I've let them
go without being there for them!"

In the corner, Gabrielle's spectral image appeared, admonishing,
"Francesca, you are needed here.  You and I would have to defend the
others if the Enforcers decided to return."

She shook her head resignedly, "I'm sorry, Gabrielle.  I just want to
be with David as he makes his journey.  From what I understand, those
stops, Rouen and Orleans, represent something to him.  What if he
needs help translating?  What if there's another fight?"

"That's why Angela and Xena accompanied him," the bard-queen
mentioned.  "Believe me, she can handle whatever comes their way.  And
Nick can read the texts with David, I'm sure.  Look, I know you want
to be there.  Hang in there.  I'll feel better when they get back as
well."

The Italian Literature professor managed a smile and told the other,
"Thank you for reassuring me."

"My pleasure," the Potadeian replied pleasantly while fading away.
"If you need me, just call."

Picking up a copy of "The Decameron", Francesca plopped herself on the
bed and began to read in an effort to lose herself in its tales.

***

Eve and Brother Tony had conducted a prayer meeting for hours.
Between them, the two ecclesiastics hoped to get the Light's attention
and assistance in their friend's hour of need.  For  most of the
evening, they sat on the floor, chanting.  Finally, just before
sunrise, he murmured, "Amen,"  and stood up slowly.

"Forgive me, Eve.  I must rest now.  Can we meet again tomorrow night?
I am enjoying these sessions," he requested.

"Of course," she agreed, rising to her feet.  "I'll help you to your
room, and then I'll lie down for a while myself.  I must say that our
meetings are refreshing."

"Given the darkness surrounding us, we need to put up a strong
defense," he affirmed.

"And we are, Brother.  We are.  Just have faith," she assured him.

"Thank you," he smiled as they walked toward his room.

***

Alex got up in his study, stretching for the ceiling.  For the
previous seven hours, he had poured through the sources on his
bookshelves and received both emails and calls from his associates in
several European countries.  Looking at the pile of accumulated data,
he figured they could rewrite Dijon's biography if they chose to do
so.

"I wonder if David and Angela have found anything?" he mused.

A knock came from the door at that moment.  "Yes?" he replied.

"Excuse me, Dr. O' Connell.  It's Karen Montoya.  Might I come in?"
Karen probed.

"Certainly," the elderly man agreed.  "What might I do for you?"

"First, I have a cup of tea for you," she noted, handing him a
steaming cup.  "And second, I wanted to talk with you about things."

"On the first note, thank you," he acknowledged, sipping on the hot
drink.  "Now then, what's on your mind?"

"It's actually about Dave and your reactions to him," she observed.
"I've noticed your uneasiness around him."

He frowned.  Had he been that obvious?  "It's hard to feel comfortable
around him, Karen.  I remember running into him as a child back in
Egypt and was petrified then of his inner darkness.  I can see he
still has it, and I fear for Angela's safety."

She shook her head, "You don't need to worry about that, Sir.  He
would never hurt her.  Trust me on that one."

"Yes, well, how long have you known him?" he probed.

"For about 20 years," she informed him.  "Believe me, when he lived
with my family, I saw his lapses first hand.  I know what he's capable
of almost better than anyone else on Earth.  He has improved quite a
bit over the last two years.  You remember when you saw him?  Try and
imagine him about a hundred times worse."

He shuddered at the thought.  "My Lord!  How could he...?"

"It's a very long story and one I don't care to tell at this point,"
she stated.  "Just trust that he's a lot more under control unless
he's pushed.  Both times that you've seen him, he was being shoved
really hard, first by Alti, and now the Enforcers.  Just bear with
him, okay?"  Seeing his head nod ever so slightly, she continued, "So,
what have you found out about our other medieval friend?"

"Dijon?  I've mined everything I could find about his career and
activities.  Nasty fellow," he reported.

"I could've told you that without all of that research," she replied. 
"But, did you find where he went?"

"As far as anyone could tell, he was at Varna.  Then, he disappeared
for a few weeks without a trace.  There was one witness who claimed he
popped up in Istanbul, but the reference could have been to any one of
four or five fugitives from the battle.  I'm waiting to hear what
David found in Orleans.  Hopefully, he can collaborate my findings
with some little nugget of information," he related.

"Trust me, if anyone can mine an archive, it's Dave.  From what he
tells me, his Grandfather Alvaro trained him hard when he was very
young on these things.  And, if it has a connection to the Hundred
Years War, he'll find it in Spanish, French, German, Middle English,
or Italian," Karen assured him.  

"Alvaro?" he inquired.  "Funny, my mother worked with a man by that
name.  A Lorenzo Alvaro from Lucca.  Great professor who seemed to
know a lot about many different regions."

"You can double check with Francesca, but I believe your mother's
associate was her great-uncle and Dave's grandfather," she mentioned.

He shook his head in wonder.  "I can't believe that he's Lorenzo's
grandson!  Dr. Alvaro was always so quiet and mild mannered."

"What can I say?  The Dubois blood must have been the deciding factor
although his mother isn't that great either," she remarked.  Glancing
at the clock, she yawned, "Gosh, it's getting really late.  They
should be back soon.  If not, Nick and Alyce are going to need some
help if you get my drift."

The telltale mists started to form in the corner.  

"Speaking of which," he presumed.

However, it was Cybelle who stepped into the room and glanced about.
"Hi, Karen," she greeted.

"Cybelle," the other woman acknowledged.  "How are you doing?"

"Much better," she responded.  Turning to the old man, she scrutinized
him, wondering, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"You should," he informed her.  "We met in Egypt back in 1937.  You
teleported me back to my house from where Alti attacked us."

"Alexander O' Connell?  By the goddess, it's been a long time!" the
priestess exclaimed.  

"Indeed it has," he agreed.  "I've married, seen two more generations
grow up, and here I am.  In fact, our families are now linked, my
dear.  According to Nicholas Miles, you are David's sister, correct?"

"That's right," the Althanorian concurred.  "But what do you mean
linked?  Karen?"

"He's Angie's maternal grandfather, Cybelle," the nurse explained.  

The priestess gave the old man another glance.  So that's what Michael
meant when he told her, Angie, Dave, and Francesca about the
importance of the mission to "both families".  "Fascinating," she
remarked.  
"I'm glad that things worked out."

"As am I," he responded.  "Is there any other news?"

"The group is finished in the archive.  Deirdre will have them back
here any minute," Cybelle reported.

"Then, let's go meet with them," the elder professor commented.  

With that, the two ladies followed him out of the room toward the
staircase.






Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 18 [Istanbul]

LaCroix stood on the ancient ramparts overlooking the Bosporus, gazing
intently across the dark waters toward the Asian coast.  After the
aborted meeting with Ali, he began to arrange for the confrontation to
occur undisturbed.  "This spot seems as good as any," he reminded
himself.  After one of the combatants had perished, it would be a
simple matter to dispose of the body.  Now, one last thing remained:
to insure that no mortal interfered in the duel.  To insure that, the
former Roman general had requested the presence of a particular
fledgling with ties to such matters.

At precisely the stroke of midnight, a voice called, "LaCroix, I'm
here as per your command."  The speaker stepped into the light.  His
face looked more wrinkled than a prune, his hair silvery-gray, and his
gait a bit stooped.

"Thank you, Don Constantine, for coming," the general replied.  "We
have a bit of a situation on our hands."

"Indeed we do," the immortal mob boss agreed, shuffling over to his
master's side.  "It seems that the Duboises are still stirring up
trouble.  I trust you know about the affair in Italy?"

The elder vampire nodded, "Yes.  I did hear how they ran up against
the Italian mafia over the matter of a certain document.  You, I
recall, worked with their FBI agent friend to cut the ties between
them and the investigation.  For keeping Nicholas out of it, I'm
grateful."

"Anything for family.  You know how I feel about that," the fledgling
stated.  "Once again, I'm prepared to help the Community.  What is it
that you require of me?"

LaCroix grinned.  If only Nicholas were this compliant. "I need to
insure that the mortal law enforcement groups will not interfere in
this affair.  Can you help?"

"It's being handled even as we speak.  I've been in contact with the
head of the Turkish cartel.  The gentleman running it and I go way
back if you get my meaning," Constantine assured.

His master smiled knowingly.  The younger one did have a way with
words.  "And?"

"The police will be diverted away from here," Constantine continued.
"If you don't mind, I wanted to confirm when this wretched affair is
to occur?"

"Two days from now at this time," the Elder noted.  "Don't be late."

Constantine assured the other, "I won't be.  But, with your
indulgence, I would speak to Dubois first.  I still owe him my thanks
for his assistance, unwitting as it was, in bringing about the
downfall of my Sicilian competitors."

LaCroix frowned.  As negative an effect as the accursed professor had
over his elder son and youngest daughter, he didn't wish for his
newest fledgling to be swayed.  "Must you?  I would rather you did
not."

"While I'm grateful to you for my vitality, LaCroix, I still have my
honor.  Don't worry, I'll keep it brief.  Unlike Nicholas, I know
where my allegance lies," the fledgling assured.

"Thank you for that at least," the "father" declared.  "You may speak
with him.  But, if you don't mind, I'll accompany you."

The lack of trust grated on Constantine.  In the years since his
rebirth, had he not been loyal to the ancient Roman?  Still, he had
discovered that LaCroix had a reason for all things.  "Very well," he
relented.  "But, I wish you would trust me."

"I do," the other replied.  "But, this one is very influential.
Already, he has corrupted your brother and sister.  I want to make
sure nothing happens to you, my Child.  Is that not the way any father
would look after his own?"

"Indeed," the "son" agreed.  "I didn't mean any impudence toward you."

LaCroix smiled warmly at this display of loyalty.  While he sensed the
flickering light of resentment within Constantine, the latter knew his
place.  "Of course you didn't.  Now, complete your business, and I'll
see you at the appointed time."

"It shall be done," the fledgling concluded before taking off into the
night sky.

The elder vampire watched the other's departure for a long minute even
after the other had vanished.  "It's good to have at least one child
who listens," he chuckled.

"Even at the sake of his soul?" a strong voice asked from behind him.

The immortal stiffened.  Who could sneak up on him thus?  Turning, he
saw Cybelle standing there, her hair and robes billowing in the stiff
breeze.  A knowing smile painted on her face.  

"Once again, LaCroix, we stand face to face," she commented.

"What are you doing here, Witch?" he snapped.  "You're supposed to
be..."

The priestess chuckled, "In England?  Oh come, come, certainly you
know by now, I can be anywhere I desire.  As if you could do anything
about it."

"I asked you a question, Woman!" he roared, his eyes turning a pale
shade of yellow. "Cut the riddles and answer me."

She laughed, "You don't like riddles now?  Why, General, I thought you
loved them.  At least, my brother tells me you do like to speak in
conundrums as the Nightcrawler.  I must say, I have listened to the
feed over the Internet.  Your attempts to influence mankind are
pitiful."

"One day, I'll be revenged upon you and your family for your
insolence!" he hissed.

"And I'll be revenged upon you for the harm you and your infernal
Roman hordes visited upon my sisters!" she threw back in his face.
Her eyes took on a fearsome bloody shade of their own before she
continued, "The histories have told of the pain and suffering which
your troops visited upon my predecessors and those who served the
goddess.  Tell me, do you remember?"

LaCroix's mind did hold those memories.  At her words, they took
over....

*****

[Britannia c. 70 AD]

Lucius stepped out of the Northern Sea onto the British coast.  In the
years following Julius Caesar's failed conquest of the fabled realm of
Althanor, various generals had tried to take the site, but they had
failed to do so.  But, the Pompeiian general decided he would succeed
where the others had fallen by the wayside.  From his spies, he had
heard that the pagans were holding an open Beltane celebration.
Despite the Emperor's prohibition, he decided to move while the
priestesses were at their most vulnerable.

"Signal the troops!  We march inland quickly!  We must be at the
lake's edge by the full moon!" he ordered.

His second in command, Rodericus, a heavy-set man with dark features,
nodded and moved to spread the word.  Within the hour, he would have
the word stated to all centurions. Shortly thereafter, the army moved
toward the forested areas and their targeted victims.

***

Two evenings later, the full moon had risen high in the sky.  The
Romans made their way through the thick belt of trees.  For the
previous day and a half, they had marched through this barrier,
cutting and hacking a trail as they went.  Finally, they saw a
clearing and made their way toward it.  At the very edge of the woods,
Lucius commanded his army to stop.

"What is it, General?" Rodericus inquired.

"Tell the men to fan out around the clearing.  At my signal, we'll hit
them from all sides.  I don't want any of these traitors escaping.
Understood?" the general ordered.

"It shall be done," the other man agreed, hurrying off with the word.

For a long second, Lucius observed the fools setting up their icons
and setting up their display.  How he anticipated their shock when
their accursed rites were silenced by his sword!  "They won't know
what hit them."

"No, they won't," a familiar voice concurred.

The leader turned to his left to see Ares standing there.  "And what
might I do for you, War God?" he probed.  "Certainly, you have more
important things to do than this little skirmish?"

"Other things, yes," the deity agreed.  "More important things,  I
don't think so.  You are about to rid me of a thorn in my side,
Lucius.  Just do so with care."

The general snorted indignantly, "Don't I always?  I have planned this
engagement with great notice to detail.  Trust me."

Ares frowned.  This mortal was too arrogant for his own good.  Still,
he was the best general in the Empire.  As long as he kept winning
campaigns, the Olympian decided to put up with the insolence at least
for now.  "Just don't let me down.  Take care of it quickly.  Xena
will be here by sunrise to escort those women back to their realm.  I
don't want her or that babbling idiot of a blonde disrupting this coup
de grace.  Understand?"

The Roman hissed angrily.  He still remembered the last meeting with
the Warrior Princess and how she had handily defeated him.  "Revenge
would be sweet, Ares!  After we deal with this cult, I would dispose
of her as well!"

"Don't be stupid, Lucius!" the other advised.  "Just move in, take
care of business, and pull back.  Understand?  Leave Xena to me."

Lucius reluctantly nodded.

"Very good," Ares smiled.  "Now, I think your troops are ready.  Move
in."

"I'm going!" the general spat angrily.  God or not, he wouldn't be
ordered about by Ares.  Running over toward Rodericus, he raised his
sword, ordering, "Charge!  For Rome!"

As a great wave, the Romans surged forth from the forest on all sides,
cutting down worshippers and priestesses like so much wheat before
them.  The surprise had been total and, after only 20 minutes, the
Beltane worshippers lay dead or grievously wounded before them.

Lucius strutted out onto the field, surveying the carnage around him. 
Hearing the moans, he thought for a minute.  Certainly, he should pull
back before sunrise.  But, there was still time before that point.
"Rodericus?" he called.

"Yes?" the subordinate inquired. "Should we fall back as per your
earlier strategy?"

"No, not yet," the general disagreed.  Allowing himself a cruel smile,
he continued, "Tell the men they might claim their spoils here and
that they have an hour to do so."  Turning, he thought to himself, "If
this doesn't break the Britons' spirit, I don't know what will...."
Behind him, he heard the men running followed by the screams of the
surviving priestesses.  "It has been quite the evening," he chuckled,
walking toward the woods. 

"I would agree.  But, you shouldn't throw salt in the wound like
this," Ares criticized.

"To break their spirit, it's a necessary thing.  Besides, Ares,
shouldn't I reward my men?" Lucius noted.  "We'll be out of here
within the hour."

The war god bit back a snarl.  His wishes had been explicit and this
mortal had dared to take liberties with them.  "Just see that you are
gone from here by then," he glowered before disappearing from the
scene.

The Roman leader turned back toward the field.  It had been a good
evening.  An exquisite one indeed....

***

[Modern Day]

LaCroix's mind snapped back to the present.  Once again, he was on the
misty ramparts facing the priestess.

"So, you do remember," she told him, her eyes boring deep into his
consciousness.  "Well, mark my words, you will continue to rue the day
you dared to defile my order, Roman."  

"Nobody talks to me like that!" he hissed, fully vamping out and
taking a step toward her.

"Uh uh!" she reminded him.  "Have you forgotten what happened in
Toronto yet?  I must say it was quite a sight to see you rolling
around on the floor in pain.  It was amusing to separate you from
Nicholas and the Doctor and deliver them into my brother's arms.  Now,
he'll find his humanity, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"He is mine!" he countered.  "Nicholas is my creation!"

"And undoing your dirty work on him as well as on Eve gives me
pleasure," she remarked icily, throwing still more salt into that
particular sore point.  Glancing about, she noted, "It's getting late,
and I should be getting back. But, before I do, I wanted to thank
you."

That remark intrigued him despite his anger.  "Thank me?  For what?"

"For keeping the authorities at bay.  I must admit that you're quite
good at coordinating such things.  Now, be a good boy and don't screw
it all up," she remarked.  "On that note, au revoir.  We'll discuss
this again."  Turning to the misty patch behind her, she disappeared,
leaving him alone once again.

LaCroix growled indignantly at the priestess's tone and attitude.
"I'll be revenged upon her and her infernal brood!" he vowed.  But,
given the seriousness of the upcoming battle, that was still a matter
for another day.  Looking up into the sky, he flew off toward the
safety of his lodgings.  The night was getting on and much work
remained undone before the duel to come.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 19 

[O' Connell Manor]

Angie tossed and turned in her bed.  While Dave monopolized the
nightmares on most evenings, tonight her dreams were haunted by
strange visions and painful memories.  "Xena, what's going on?" she
asked inaudibly.

[From inside of her head, the Warrior Princess remarked, "My
apologies, Angela.  For some reason, I seem to be recalling some
bitter situations.  You really need your sleep."]

"Well, I can't seem to doze off," she muttered, climbing out of bed.
"I feel as if something's about to happen here.  Tonight."

"You don't say," Dave's voice baited softly from beside her.

"Honey, I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized.  "You were
sleeping so soundly for once."

"Maybe I was," he supposed.  "But, I know what you mean about the
imminent feeling.  I have that sense as well."

Then, in the corner, a bright light coalesced into the familiar form
of Lorenzo.  The angelic figure smiled warmly upon seeing his
grandson, bidding him, "Your senses serve you well, David.  There is
someone waiting for you downstairs."

He reached out with his senses, probing the entire house.  "There's no
cold spot anywhere.  However, I do feel a spurt of energy in the
sitting room.  Is that?"

"Proceed there and find out," the messenger advised, fading away into
the darkness.

Feeling the chair, the professor found his robe and threw it on.
"Better change, Princess."

Silently, she pulled the sword, changing places with her roommate.  

"Let's get to the bottom of this," Xena asserted, hurrying out the
door into the hallway.

For his part, the medievalist tailed her closely.  Whatever was
foolish enough to break in this time would regret it.

Rushing down the stairs, the two adventurers looked around at their
surroundings.  Everything seemed normal at first.  But across the
room, a familiar blonde figure awaited their arrival.

"Michael," she growled,  "What do you want?"

"Stay out of this, Xena," the archangel directed. "This is between me
and David.  I have something for him."

Dave stepped forward and eyed the newcomer carefully.  He knew that
this angel didn't appear unless he had a very good reason and if it
coincided with his agenda.  "Okay, spill it then.  I trust this has to
do with Dijon?"

The other nodded, his face remaining stony and expressionless, "You
are perceptive.  Yes, my presence here has to do with your
confrontation with the vampire."

The mortal probed, feeling a tad bit annoyed by the games, "So my
grandfather just said.  Let me guess, you want me to fight on your
behalf now, right?"

"You fight for whatever side you choose," Michael replied.  "I can
only give you this."  He held up a finely polished sword.  The blade
glinted in the moonlight even as the hilt reflected the candlelight
from the wall tapers.  "I hope that the good minister and Eve will
keep you on the straight and narrow.  You have your duty."

[From deep within Dave, the Child growled fiercely at this
admonishment.  "I'll show Feather-Brain about duty!"]

The professor held back his darker persona, managing to say to the
angel, "That's a nice sword.  But, nothing from you comes freely,
Michael.  What's the catch?"

"Catch?" the archangel wondered.  "Ah, you've been listening to your
friend here too much.  Yours isn't to question.  Yours is to act."

"Much as Jeanne did?" the professor snarled.  "I know about the deal
you made with her.  With her, there was a catch.  She served your
ends, but couldn't get rid of Dijon in the end."  He paced angrily
about the room, staring furiously at the heavenly figure.  "Now, you
want me to clean up the mess.  Is that right?"

"Answer the question, Michael," Xena urged.  "What's in it for you?"

"Dijon has served his purpose," the blonde angel asserted.  "Yes, it
is intended for you to kill the Burgundian with that sword.  That is
what you've wanted all along, isn't it?  And, as for your last
comment, Dubois, we didn't make any 'deals'.  I reminded her of her
duty.  That is all."

"Yeah," Dave replied darkly.  "That's right.  But years of nightmares
taught me one thing, Michael.  When you're done using me, you'll want
to get rid of me.  I'm too troublesome to be left in your backyard
like this."

Michael's face contorted itself with rage.  How dare this mortal
question him so cavalierly?

"The man's got a point," she baited.  "Look at what you tried to do
with me and Eve in Rome.  Of course, there was the whole matter of
Lucifer and me.  Then you "allowed" me to kill the Olympians and about
a dozen Enforcers."

"Remember your promise, Xena.  You swore to Eve that you wouldn't
oppose Heaven," Michael reminded her.

"Actually, I promised not to raise a hand against you, as I recall,"
she countered.  "Don't worry, Michael, I'm not stupid.  I may not like
it, but hey, that's the hand I'm stuck with."

The angel glared at the two companions.  "Very well.  David, we've
given you your charge.  You must fight and defeat Dijon on the night
after next where the two continents meet.  There, your destiny will
await you."

"Istanbul," Dave confirmed.  "That's where we're going."

Upon hearing that realization, Michael looked skyward and disappeared
in a ray of light, leaving  the professor and the warrior to puzzle
through the purpose of the duel and the weapon.

"This just keeps getting murkier and murkier," he groused.

"Where Michael's concerned, nothing's ever easy," she concurred.
"Now, let's get back upstairs before we wake the rest of the
household."

Nodding in agreement, he followed her back up the oak stairs and
softly into the bedroom.  After Angie had returned to the scene, the
couple fell back into their bed and dozed off into a fitful sleep.
While neither wanted to waste time in this way, they knew rest would
be needed for the events to come.


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 

Chapter 20

While the exchange was occurring downstairs, Eve studied the sacred
writings of Eli lying on the desk in front of her.  Despite having
relinquished her role as Messenger to Paulus, she knew her role in
keeping order would be paramount over the next two days.  "There has
to be something here which I can apply to the situation," she hoped.

A knocking came from the door.  "Yes?" she answered.

"Eve, it's Brother Tony.  I know this is your private time, but..."
the minister requested.

"That's okay.  Please come in," she acknowledged, closing the text on
the desk.

"Thank you," he sighed, entering the room nervously.  "The air is so
charged in this manor.  I feel as if something's about to jump out at
me."

"I know what you mean," she nodded, sipping a tepid cup of lemon tea. 
"I was just looking at Eli's writings, hoping to find something to
calm my nerves."

He shivered noticeably before admitting, "I just feel something's
going to happen here tonight.  Don't ask me why. I can't explain it,
but it's a feeling."

"The duel won't happen tonight so what could it be?" she probed.  Just
then, she glanced around alertly, "There's someone else in the house. 
Seems you were right, Brother."  Jumping up out of her seat, she
headed for the door.

He followed closely behind, looking in all directions, and requesting,
"Heaven, protect us!" 

"If you have faith, that protection will always be there," Michael
replied, materializing out of the darkness.

Eve spun to see the archangel standing in back of them.  "Michael?
Then, it's starting already?" she asked.

"Not yet," the blonde visitor assured her.  "I just gave David his
weapon to use against Dijon.  I have a task for both of you as well.
He seems a bit resistant to his duty in this regard.  You two will
need to keep him on the path.  Understand?"

"Michael, from what I understand, this is his battle to fight.  Of
course, I'll do what I can to work with him beforehand.  However, the
rules are clear.  No interference from anyone else," she noted.

"The rules of demons are beneath the notice of Heaven," the archangel
snorted indignantly.  "I'm only concerned with the greater good."
Peering behind them down the darkened hallway, he called, "Nicolas,
come forth.  I know you're there."

Nick approached as close as he dared.  While he had stood in the
company of other angels in the past, Michael's aura irritated his skin
and sent chills up and down his spine.  "Michael," he replied
respectfully, giving the other a slight bow of his head.

"Despite your past transgressions, we haven't forgotten about you,
Chevalier," the other stated.  "You still have much to answer for.
However, you have done good service as well on several occasions.
Their task is yours as well."

"What can I do?" the detective wondered.  "Just as Eve has said, we
can't intercede."

"Just assist your friend in his preparations," the angel bade.  "And,
Nicolas, I might add that you've defied the rules of your kind before
in extreme situations.  Remember in the donjon?"

The immortal nodded, "Yes.  But, Dijon had no reason to act as he
did."

"I rest my case," Michael smiled.  "Hold onto your faith in these
times."  Then, looking up, he disappeared in a radiant beam of light.

Eve glanced at Nick and asked, "What was he talking about?"

"I knew Dijon before he became a vampire.  As Dave told you, he was a
Burgundian knight.  In the instance which Michael was referring to, he
was harassing Jeanne d'Arc the night before her execution.  I stepped
in and put a halt to his insults," the former Crusader recounted.

Tony stared at him.  "You're referring to the Maid, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have heard her referred to in that way," he agreed.  "We
talked on at least three occasions, Brother."

The minister's eyes bulged wide and he continued anxiously, "Then,
it's true!  You really are a medieval knight!"

Nick smiled warmly and reassured the other man, "I was born around
1200 in southern Brabant and served in the Crusades.  After coming
home, I went to a party and met a girl.  The rest, as they say, was
history."

"Janette?" she inquired.

"Right," he agreed.

"And she led you to that monster," the minister guessed, taking
another shot at LaCroix.  "You're fighting the good fight, Nicholas.
If I can help you, please let me know."

"Thank you, Brother," he accepted.  "Now, I think you all need to be
getting some sleep.  I was going to check on Dave and Angie, however,
Michael just answered my questions.  I'll see you both tomorrow."  In
a blur, he was gone.

"I think we'd best take his advice," the former Messenger yawned.
"Excuse me!  Well, good night, Tony."

"And to you, Eve," he returned.  Turning, he made his way back toward
his room.

She stood at her doorway looking about for quite a while.  Michael's
presence, as with Brother Tony, had made her more anxious and antsy.
"Eli, I hope you'll allow the situation to be resolved soon," she
wished, reentering her room, closing the door, and lying down for the
remainder of the evening.

 


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1  (Additional Note: Some of these
references come from "Kidnapped!" DC  2.10)

Chapter 21

Dave never did get to sleep after his encounter.  Instead, he sat on
the edge of the bed, listening to the nocturnal sounds and putting his
thoughts in order.  Admittedly, Michael's tone in reminding him about
duty ticked both him and the inner Child off.  But, there was more to
it than that. For the first time, he was beginning to feel a seed of
doubt spring into his consciousness.  What if he failed?  

["Stow it, Buddy," the Child growled inside of his head.  "We've come
too far now to let this kinda stuff wreck everything now."]

Nodding absently, the medievalist stood slowly so as not to wake his
wife.  Putting his robe on, he walked out the door, down the hall, and
the stairs.  There, he found Steve sitting at the table, cleaning his
weapons.  "Hey, Steve.  It's really early for you to be up, isn't it?"

The FBI agent shrugged, "I'd say the same thing about you, Dubie.
You're the one who needs rest considering what's about to happen.
Still, I couldn't sleep.  And you?"

"Same here," the professor agreed.  "Last night was weird enough
without causing anymore ruckus."

"Everything seemed pretty quiet.  What happened?" his friend asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Dave remarked half-seriously.  "The archangel
Michael popped up and gave me a sword to stick into Dijon's hide."

"Is that all?" Steve deadpanned.  "Dave, I have to tell you.  You
raise 'nothing much' to a new level."

"You know me.  It's just another day in my neighborhood," Dave laughed
ruefully, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot heating in the
corner.  "By the way, you've been quiet since the group returned from
Orleans.  Anything the matter?"

He shook his head.  "No.  In fact, other than your situation, I'm
enjoying the time here, talking to folks, and just thinking about
things."

"Meaning Natalie LeBeau, right?" Dave smiled.  Seeing his friend flush
just a bit, the professor continued, "Look, Steve.  We aren't in
school anymore.  It's okay to have feelings for her.  How is she
taking it?"

"She seems really happy, Dave," Steve replied.  "It's such a great
feeling for both of us.  I was thinking of surprising her with a cup
of coffee in just a bit."

The medievalist grinned at his friend's optimism.  "I wish you a lot
of luck, my Friend.  You're a lot happier than I've seen in quite some
time," he thought to himself.

"So, what's new on the Le Creep front?  Any new details?" the agent
inquired, cutting into his friend's thoughts.

"I'm waiting for everyone to get up first.  Then, we'll have a
briefing of sorts," Dave noted.

"Sounds like a plan," the other man agreed.  "As long as you keep your
head on straight."

"I'm going to need to do that in order to beat Dijon anyway," Dave
countered.  "But, I have to admit that  I'll be glad when this is
over."

***

By noon, everyone in the house was congregated around the great oak
table in the dining room, anticipating whatever news was available.  

Dave sat at the head of the group, pondering what exactly to say to
the group about the details surrounding the following night.  He has
just finished practicing with Xena and Nick for the duel and was
allowing the situation to sink in once again.  Finally, he started,
"Okay, Everyone.  I'm going to keep this brief.  Last night, I learned
the last details concerning our meeting with the Enforcers.  We're
going to Istanbul tomorrow night."

"Istanbul?" Brother Tony wondered.  "Why there?"

"Figures that it would take place there," Steve muttered, recalling
some of his previous adventures with the Duboises.

"Steve has a point, Dear," Angie jabbed good-naturedly.  "It seems
like every time we have an adventure outside of the U. S., it happens
there.  At least, I'm hoping we get to drop in on Marie Haddad.  I
need to check in with her on some common research not to mention see
if Dr. F. has left anything for us there."

"What's happened there?" Brother Tony asked with concern.

"I was kidnapped about a year after the wedding," Angie noted.
"Apparently, one of my findings put a few medical researchers over
there in an angry mood.  They grabbed me."

"They bombed the library," Dave continued.  "Anyhow, Steve and I ended
up in Budapest and set everything right."

"Right after you charged into the middle of the outfit," Steve sighed,
shaking his head.  "You pretty much took out the inside of that
building with your assortment."

Nick nodded, "I remember reading about that situation before I met you
both in Toronto."

"Indeed," Dave recalled.  "But, as to our current situation, I think
Angie and Francesca will check in with Marie.  Meantime, Steve, Karen,
and I will scout out the turf around the battle site.  Eve, Nick,
Alyce, Natalie, and Brother Tony will stay here."

"Cybelle will bring all of you to the site when everything starts,"
the oncologist added.

"We can always use the rest," the minister admitted.  "I'll keep
praying for you."

"Meantime," Cybelle added.  "I'll be around to watch over the house if
Eve wants to go with the others."

"I would like that," Eve indicated.  "If Angie and Francesca don't
mind."

"Of course," the Italian Literature professor agreed.   

"Marie would be happy to meet you," Angie agreed.

"If anything happens back here," Alex wondered.  "How do we get a hold
of you?"

"Leave that to me," the priestess responded. "If needed, I'll find
them.  And I would like it if Deirdre would go with you, Dave.  I'll
have everyone else at the site on time."

"Sounds great," her older brother nodded.  "I think that's what we
need to know.  If it's okay, I'm going off to meditate.  See you all a
little later."  With that, he got up and walked toward his room.

Everyone looked at each other.  While Dave seemed a little too cool
for his own good at first, his focus was good.  Given those
conditions, they hoped for the best under the coming circumstances.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 22

[Istanbul]

The day passed quickly across the entire European continent.  Although
the sun shone brightly in the sky, the residents felt an unseasonable
chill in the air associated more with October or November rather than
late May.  Accordingly, they rushed off to get their chores done so
that they might return to their homes.

 Just after sunset, Dijon arose from his deep sleep feeling anxious.
"If only we were to face each other tonight," he wished aloud.
Outside of his rented room, he could see the lights of the Galata bank
across the straits.  How many times had he ventured among the ruins of
the Venetian businesses once located there but now lost in the mists
of time?  "Once more," he told himself.  "After tomorrow night, I
shall leave this city and never look upon it again.  My prison.  This
Turkish pile."  That thought made him feel better.  Yes, after he had
disposed of Dubois, he would leave this musty old city behind him.
Having decided on that course of action, the former knight took his
grindstone and started to sharpen his sword.

On the previous evening, his former master, Ali, had come to see him. 
The Elder had requested that he not pursue this course, calling the
duel "pure folly".  The conversation ended with the Burgundian advised
the older vampire to mind his own business and stay out of his way if
he had no sense of duty and loyalty to the Code.

Tomorrow night would be a small bit of work, but a great deal of glory
thereafter.

*****************

[O' Connell Manor]

Xena sat in the Dubois' chamber methodically sharpening her sword.  As
with the Enforcer lord, she felt the need to begin preparations early
if, for nothing else, to keep her mind occupied during the hours prior
to the battle.  The lull before the storm was always like this.
Everything seemed to be so still you could hear a sea breeze blowing
onto the distant coast.  Nothing, not even a mouse, moved throughout
the house.

"It never changes," she mused, placing her sword down for a minute.
Taking her chakram, she flipped it absentmindedly, allowing it to
ricochet off of the walls before returning to her hand.  After four
flings, she resumed her preparations.  

"Xena?" Gabrielle asked.  

"Gabrielle, come in.  I thought Francesca was studying in the library
with David and Alexander," the warrior inquired.

"She was, however, we sensed that you could use someone to talk to,"
the bard-queen suggested.

"Angela's getting restless," the Thracian warrior stated.  "I offered
to take over for a while and burn off some of the nervous energy for
both of us."

"Good plan," her companion agreed.  "Xena, how are we supposed to sit
and watch Dijon fight David?"

"It's simple, Gabrielle," Xena shrugged.  "We aren't just spectators. 
We have a role too."

After a minute, the blonde bard caught her partner's gist.  "So, we're
making sure that the Enforcers toe the line as well, right?"

"You got it," the warrior noted, giving her sword a particularly
dramatic flourish with the whet stone.  "That's about right."  Putting
the weapon in its scabbard, she continued, "That's the only way Angela
can keep herself sane in the middle of this mess.  How's Francesca
holding up?"

"She's holding her own," the Potadeian assured.  "I wish that it were
tomorrow already."

"I know," Xena replied, rubbing her friend's arm.  "I do too.  But
there are still preparations for the battle."

"Such as?"

"After Angela and Francesca visit with their fellow scribe at the
university, they'll release us.  I've asked Deirdre to take us back to
Althanor before the battle.  According to Cybelle, the High Priestess
has a few things to impart to David before he faces that rat."

"And what of Nick, Alyce, and Natalie? What if Lucius tries
something?" Gabrielle wondered.

"He won't...at least not before the battle.  And, of course, if he
tries something afterward, well then, I might have to deal with him,"
Xena glowered, gripping her chakram hard.

"I'm sure you're right, Xena.  I wish I could feel better about it,"
her companion sighed.

"Have faith, Gabrielle," the raven-haired warrior assured her.  "Have
faith.  David has a few surprises.  Wait and see."

The two women sat together, watching the sunset and trying to remain
positive with their outlooks.

****

Alyce awoke from her uneasy sleep, wondering about the next evening as
well.  Pacing across the room, she tried to burn off some of the
nervousness, which even she was feeling.  "I wonder if it's any easier
on Nick?" she mused as she dressed in a white blouse and her black
skirt.

"No, it's not," his voice echoed inside of her head.

"Nick?  Where are you? " she asked timidly, unsure of how this could
be happening.

"Open your door," he advised. When she had done so, he continued, "I
was using the vibrations between us as the children of LaCroix to
communicate with you."

"So you are using your vampiric abilities more and more, even as you
look for a cure? she asked.

"Just to communicate with you and perform necessary things," he
stated, walking over to her.  "I sensed your tension and wanted to
soothe it."  Placing a hand on each arm, he rubbed her gently.
"Relax."

"Nick, be serious!  I can't believe you're relaxed at a time like this
one!" she protested, breaking away from him.

"If you want to know the truth, I'm a nervous wreck too," he admitted.
"Dave's my friend, and I don't like his attempts at noble sacrifice
and suicide!  Furthermore, to willingly place both of us in the
company of the Enforcers, not to mention LaCroix really makes me
uneasy.  No, Alyce, I'm not feeling comfortable about this matter at
all."

She scanned his thoughts and found he was telling the truth.  In that
statement, he was the caring, if not overly neurotic knight she cared
about.  

"I just wanted you to feel better is all," he noted.

"Thanks, Nick.  However, I won't feel better until this mess blows
over," she expressed.

"That makes two of us," he concurred, embracing her tightly and
sharing a view of the dark night sky over the manor house.

***

Dave had spent the afternoon walking the manor grounds.  While he knew
further practice would have been a better use of his time, the
professor had decided to use the time to put his thoughts in order.
As he walked back into the house, he saw Brother Tony waiting for him
in the sitting room.  "Brother Tony, what can I do for you?" he asked.

The elderly minister closed his Bible and looked up at his friend.  "I
was hoping to pray with you for a while if I may," he requested.

"Of course," the younger man accepted.  "Let's go to the chapel."

The pastor managed a smile.  At least, David hadn't forgotten about
his faith in light of what was to happen next.  "Perhaps, there is
hope," he realized, accompanying the other man down the hall.

***

Natalie paced about the floor of her room, sipping on a cup of coffee,
and pondering what was going through her friends' minds.  Nick would
be brooding about running into Dijon again more than likely.  Dave
would be meditating with Eve and his minister.  As she had passed by
the Dubois' room, the coroner noted that Xena and Gabrielle were
talking about things.  "At least everyone's got an idea of what's
going on."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," Steve assured her from
his corner seat.

"I would like to do more," she argued.

"So would I.  So would Karen," he debated.  "It's Dave's fight.  Let
him fight it."

"I'm sure he's ready to eat nails," she noted.

"Yes, he always is," he remarked.  "I've known him for almost 20
years.  Anytime he's in a situation like this one, Dave always
formulates a plan and goes with it.  And, with everyone lecturing him
on his fighting style, he's biting at the reins to have at it with
Dijon."

"That's what I'm worried about," she agreed.  "I was talking to Nick
earlier and, given his history with Dijon on all levels, we were both
worried about him getting reckless."

"Leave it to Xena, Karen, Nick, and Brother Tony to try and keep him
in check," he assured her.  "Still, I get the point.  Dijon's mortal
history, not to mention his role in the murders of Tony and Pauline
Samuelsohn, is weighing heavily on him.  We won't know his reaction
until the fight starts, but when I was talking to Dave earlier, he
said that both sides of his personality would have to cooperate if he
was to win this one."

"Both sides working together?" she wondered.

"Right.  You didn't see how he finally beat Alti in New Mexico.
Apparently, the two sides worked out a compromise and used it to their
advantage.  Look for that to happen tomorrow as well," he continued.  

"I hope you're right," she worried.  "If they're too busy fighting
each other, then Dijon will make mincemeat out of him."

The FBI agent turned his head away from her, not wanting to
acknowledge that possibility.  He and Dave had been friends for too
long for him not to consider that her comment might come true one day.
Still, the only thing they could do would be to wait and see.





Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 23

[Istanbul]

About 10 AM on the fateful morning, the group stepped from the mists
into an alleyway across the street from the American University's main
entrance.  Glancing about, they could tell that nobody had seen their
sudden entrance.

"Okay," Angie started.  "When do we meet back here?"

"About 1PM," her husband indicated.  "That'll give you plenty of time
to see what's new with Marie.  After that, we'll meet up."

"Let's not make it any longer than that, OK?" Cybelle requested.  "The
Mother has asked to speak with you, David."

That revelation made him scratch his head quizzically.  "About what?"
he probed.

"Need you ask?" his sister cracked.  "She has some words of wisdom for
you.  Remember, we have a role in this affair as well.  Pauline's
death cannot go unpunished."

"It won't," he reassured her.  "If you could tell her that I'll be
happy to get her insight into this situation, I would really
appreciate it."

"Consider it done," the priestess agreed.  "See you later."  With
that, she disappeared into the fog, allowing it to dissipate behind
her.

"No unnecessary risks now," Angie requested.

"I think we can keep him out of trouble for the time being," Karen
assured her.  "Come on.  Let's find this place."

With that, the group split in two.  Dave led Steve and Karen toward
the waterfront.  Meantime, Angie guided Francesca and Eve through the
university grounds up to the History department.  "Here it is," she
stated, walking into the secretary's office.  

"Can I help you?" the woman probed.

"Yes, I was looking for Dr. Haddad," the oncologist indicated.

"Ah yes.  I thought I recognized you, Dr. Dubois.  She's waiting for
you in her office," the receptionist replied pleasantly.

"Thank you," Angie replied warmly as she walked into the adjacent
office.

"Angie!  I'm so glad you called!" Marie greeted, embracing her
colleague.

"Sorry about the short notice.  We had some last minute business here,
and I thought I would check in with you.  By the way, here are two of
my colleagues, Dr. Francesca Alvaro from the Italian department and
Dr. Eve Messenger from our Religious Studies department.  Girls, this
is Dr. Marie Haddad, a woman of many talents," the oncologist replied.

"Pleased to meet you both," the Islamist smiled.  "Angie has mentioned
you both in our conversations.  Tell me, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Eve inquired.

"I received a call from Michael Fishburne two days ago, indicating you
had taken a sudden vacation.  Angie, he's really concerned about you,
as am I," she commented.  "And where's David?"

"He's on a mission of his own right now," Francesca noted.  "He'll be
meeting with us later."

"Well, I do have some messages for you.  Let's close the door and talk
about them," Marie nodded, although not totally convinced.  Knowing
her friends as well as she did, something serious was going on, and
she decided to find out what it was.  Closing the door, she started
the conference with her colleagues.

***

While Angie's group was talking university business, Dave and the
others had reached the waterfront.  While the day's relative warmth
should have cut down on the chill, the threesome felt a breeze blowing
down their backs.  They allowed themselves a brief glimpse of the view
across the strait before getting to work.

"You know, this is ironic," Dave started.

"What is?" Steve inquired.  

"Tonight's location," the medievalist stated.  "It figures that Dijon
would choose to fight me here."

Karen thought about his words for a second before realizing, "The
picture of you and Angie from your honeymoon.  This is where it was
taken, wasn't it?"

"Right over there," he indicated, pointing to the lone stone bench
over by the water's edge.  "Of course, we had no idea what we were in
for on that trip, either."  With that, his mind flashed back 12 years
to that point. 

The wedding had gone well as had the accompanying festivities.  But,
the next morning, Dave had confronted his father.  After that, the
newlyweds flew to this city and enjoyed the sites for a few days
before heading to Cairo and a conference.  That meeting, plagued by
protests and riots, had led to his barely surviving an assassination
attempt during his presentation.  Angie's remarks during her session
had angered a few Muslim diehards and led to her kidnapping a few
months later.

"Look, Dubie," the FBI agent assured him.  "You two have made your way
through a lot tougher stuff than this caper.  Trust me, you'll survive
this one too."

"Just keep your focus," she concurred.  "Dijon wants you to be
distracted by all of these memories.  Lock the bad stuff out and focus
on the good points as a source of strength."

"You know it," the professor agreed.  "Now, let's do some scouting
around.  We only have about an hour here before we need to head back."

The others nodded and set about scanning the area for any hidden
surprises.  After a thorough combing, the threesome was satisfied that
everything was as it should be.

"Is there anything else we need to do here?" Steve probed.

"I think that's it.  I'm satisfied that everything's in order.  Come
on, we'll be back here soon enough," Dave commented.

Karen took another sweep with her senses.  Just as Dave had indicated,
everything seemed clean.  "Let's go," she concurred.

****

 An hour later, they met up with Angie, Francesca, and Eve outside of
the American University front entrance.

"Any surprises down there?" Angie pushed.

"It's clean, Angie," Karen reported.  "Dave and I scanned the area. "

"And I did a thorough sweep of my own," Steve added.  "Everything
seems ready."

The oncologist took these statements in and weighed their meaning.  As
her husband had done hours before, she realized the significance of
Dijon's choice.  "That jerk's out to ruin everything, isn't he?"

"That's his plan," Dave shrugged.  "But, let's not dwell on that
point, Princess."  He embraced her tightly.  "We still have a lot of
time left."

She allowed herself a warm smile at his words.  Even in the face of
this challenge, he was trying to be optimistic.  "You're right.  And
I'm so proud of you.  Remember that," she declared.

"I know," he chuckled.  "Now, what did you find out?"

"The folks in Tucson are concerned as usual," Francesca mentioned.
"Marie had Angie email her boss.  Eve and I sent messages to Caitlin
as well.  At least, they know what's going on."

"David, we also found out that Lydia's coming here as well," Eve
added.

"Lydia?" he asked.  Then, he realized, "That's right.  She was doing
research in Nicaea.  Knowing her, she would rush over here for this.
Great, I really don't want her there tonight in case the Enforcers get
any ideas."

"I think we can keep an eye on her, Dave," Steve assured him.
"Besides, she knows about your powers anyway.  What else can she find
out?"

"Oh, let's see.  Umm...about Angie and Francesca's relationships with
Xena and Gabrielle, where Eve's knowledge of Eli really comes from,
that Nick, Alyce not to mention LaCroix are vampires?  Do I need to go
on?" the professor deadpanned, counting off the reasons on his fingers
even as he recited them. "When is she going to be here?"

"According to Marie, the boat arrives at sundown," Eve noted.  

"We'll figure something out," Dave assured them.  Looking at his
watch, he saw that it was 1PM.  

"I'm sure," Deirdre's voice announced.  In front of the group, the
mists thickened, allowing the priestess to step through.   "Hi, Papa. 
I trust I'm right on time.  Auntie told me to come and get you."

"Just as we taught you," Angie smiled.  "Punctuality is always
important."

"Speaking of which, the Mother is waiting for you all in her hut.  So,
if you don't mind," their daughter requested.

Without another word, the group entered the mists, disappearing from
the site, and allowing the portal to dissipate behind them.



Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 24

Even as the Duboises and their friends disappeared from the city,
across town at the Hotel Suliaman, the Renegades were convening to
discuss their plans.  It had taken the better part of two nights to
fly from Toronto to the ancient capital in order to avoid the threat
of the sun.  Now, after the better part of the previous night and the
early morning, the immortal rebels met to discuss the upcoming events
in an inner part of the facility.

"How are we faring?" the Asian inquired.

"Given the circumstances, I'd say very well," the leader replied.  "I
spoke to Dijon's second in command an hour ago.  Everything is ready
for tonight."

"I hope the Enforcer is better prepared than his underlings!" the
Caribbean spat.

"How were they supposed to know that the accursed Duboises would have
allies?" the head Renegade growled.  "No, this time, we have the rules
on our side.  If the Burgundian does what he should, we'll be rid of
one more pest by the evening's end."

"And what about the others?" the Native American pushed.

"What of them?  We'll have the Enforcers pick them off one by one."

"In LaCroix's territory?  You can't be serious!" the Asian scoffed.  

"He has grown soft," the leader doubted.  "We shall deal with him when
the time comes."  

Despite his confidence, the other vampires had their doubts about the
merits of the plan.  After the failure at the manor house, they were
thinking twice before agreeing to anything.  This plan seemed
downright foolhardy, but still, they held their silence, hoping to hit
pay dirt this time around....

***

Two blocks away, LaCroix reclined on a chair, staring at the ceiling
of his darkened Victorian bedroom.  The Hotel Caroman had been his
personal favorite as far as the lodging in the former Ottoman Imperial
seat went for nearly a century.  Now, he used it to brood over the
events of the upcoming night.  Sipping on a goblet of the finest
vintage bloodwine, the Elder couldn't understand why he was so angry. 
If all went well, Dubois would soon be out of his hair, leaving him
free to dispose of the troublesome warriors and reclaim Eve.

"In a potential hour of triumph, I should be grateful for a favor
rendered me even by one so despicable," he hissed, angry at his own
misgivings.  "Still, I should be the one to deal with Dubois
especially after his words to me that night in the lecture hall.  And
also, the fact that those insolent renegade newcomers are holding
Dijon's leash is an issue.  Those children will need to be dealt with
for causing their own threat to the Community's continued survival.
While this spectacle should be somewhat entertaining, if any mortals
should circumvent Constantine's blockade, we could be exposed."

Feeling the need to check in at home, he picked up the phone and
dialed away.

***

[Tucson, El Gato Negro Club]

As with her former master, Janette had problems sleeping on that
particular day as well.  She could feel the vibrations from Nick's
uneasiness half a world away.  Coupled with the responsibility of
watching over the Tucson community, it almost seemed overwhelming.
Fortunately, Vachon had lived up to his duties, insuring that the city
was secure from any situations of potential danger.  For once, she
wished that vampires could stand the daylight.  The hours alone,
waiting for the sun to set, were driving her mad.  

"I wish Nicolas would call," she pondered, staring at the phone and
hating the sense of dependency that this situation was foisting upon
her elegant shoulders.

Then, almost as if on cue, the phone rang.  "Gato Negro," she
answered, sensing who the caller was.  "LaCroix?"

"Oui, Janette.  C'est moi," the Roman replied.  "How is everything
back there?"

"It's been really quiet.  Nobody has made any trouble.  In fact, the
Community has been feeding off of the stores which we have here in the
basement," she indicated.

The Elder smiled with satisfaction.  Despite the insolence of the
Renegades, it seemed that his influence was as great as ever in the
Old Pueblo.  "Very good.  And Vachon?  Has he done as he promised?" he
probed.

"Surprisingly, he has patrolled the city with great efficiency,
looking out for anything out of the ordinary.  In addition, Nicolas'
partner has been working with him to make sure we have a fresh supply
of blood," she noted.

He arched his brow in pleasant surprise.  Two more things had worked
out unexpectedly.  First, the Spaniard was acting as a responsible
immortal for the first time in his 468 years.  Secondly, Nicholas'
friends were as trustworthy as the good Dr. Lambert in not only
keeping the Community's secret, but were actually working to help it. 
Perhaps, this string of events wouldn't be so bad after all.  "I'm
pleased to hear that," he complemented.  "Please let me know if
anything happens.  Au revoir."

"Au revoir," she concluded, hanging up the phone.  Getting up from her
chair, she unlocked the cellar door and went downstairs to check on
the other vampires.

***

[O' Connell Manor, London]

Nick sat brooding on his bed.  It was now about 3PM.  "Only about four
hours more," he told himself.  Picking up the book lying on his
nightstand, he tried to lose himself in its tale.

A knock came from the door, followed by Natalie's voice, "Nick?  I'm
sorry to disturb you, but can I come in?"

"Sure," he replied.  "It's open."

She let herself into the room and secured the door behind her.  In the
past, she might have knocked and walked in.  However, given the scene
back at the loft, he understood her nervousness.  Perhaps, things
might never be the same again, but they were still friends.  At least,
he hoped they could still be friends.  "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she fibbed.  "I'm not the one who Dijon's going after
tonight.  Nick, I know you don't want to think about that animal right
now, but given the fact that I've never seen him in person, what type
of man is he?"

He stiffened a bit as he recalled his earlier encounters with the
then-mortal Burgundian leader.  "He was a fantastic fighter, capable
of turning a battle around by himself.  Even before he was brought
across, he had an incredible aura.  He was, and I guess still is, a
conundrum," he explained.

"How would you figure that?" she posed.

"His personality is dominated almost by diametric opposite poles.  On
the one hand, he admires fine culture in all of its forms.  Yet, he's
a bloodthirsty savage on the battlefield, mowing down many opposing
knights with his own sword before his exile," he continued.

"So, he had a quite a body count before he was brought across, huh?
Almost like LaCroix, I suppose?  I wonder why he didn't try to bring
our Burgundian friend across?" she postulated.

"Perhaps, he knew that he wouldn't be able to control Dijon," he
guessed.  "Judging from his reactions to the Barber and Hitler, I
would say that's the reason."

She nodded quietly, her mind intrigued by those connections.  Even
after the years they had known each other, Nick continued to amaze her
with the people whom he had rubbed shoulders with.  Still, even with
her scientific curiosity aroused, the coroner still felt uneasy around
him.  "I'll have to mull all of that stuff over.  Thanks, Nick," she
stated.  "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime," he agreed.  "By the way, how are you doing?"

"I'm getting better.  Steve's been a great help over these past few
days.  And how are you and Alyce doing?" she asked, trying to sound
pleasant.

"We're okay," he replied.  "She's really nervous about tonight."

"And you?" Natalie pushed.

"I'm afraid for Dave's safety.  On the one hand, Dijon could just kill
him.  On the other hand, the Child could go berserk, kill Dijon, and
retain dominance in the process.  There are too many unknowns, Nat.
He has to face this trial, but who knows what will happen?" he
responded frankly, reaching into his duffel bag.
From it, he produced a familiar case.  

"The cross?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed.  "I'm going to let him borrow it for the battle. 
That way, we can hope for some mitigating factors one way or the
other."

She smiled, "So, you are finally starting to believe in faith after
all?"

"I always did," he debated.  "Of late, that belief has grown thanks to
Dave, Angie, Eve, and Xena not to mention their minister.  It's funny,
Nat.  Remember when you mentioned in the lab about fate bringing me
together first with Brother Tony and then with Angie's parents?  Now,
here we are."

"Right," she agreed, wanting to rub his shoulder, but not feeling
comfortable enough around him to do it.  "Face it, Nick.  When you
saved Tony and Lorenzo, not to mention introducing the Blackwells to
each other, you helped to write this chapter in your own life."
Turning away from him, she started for the door.  

For a long moment, there was an uncomfortable, stifling silence.

Then, he stated, "You don't have to leave so quickly, you know.  No
matter what, I still want to be friends,"

The pathologist sighed deeply, "So do I, Nick.  But, it's going to
take time to get used to this new arrangement.  Maybe you can move
between loves and lives like changing between sets of clothes, but I
can't!  I need time, Nick, and so do you.  Yes, we can still be
friends and colleagues.  I'll still help you to search for a cure if
for nothing else to insure your happiness and spite LaCroix in the
process.  However, I need to rebuild my confidence a bit and establish
something with Steve.  Besides, you and Alyce need time to do the
same."  Even as she said this piece, her eyes turned red and watered. 
Her shoulders slumped heavily as she left the room.

Despite the resolve in her words, he knew that posture well.  Yet,
even though he wanted to say something, his feelings for Alyce told
him to simply let her leave no matter how painful it would be to do
so.  She was right even if he wasn't ready to admit it at that point. 
In the process, he realized that his friend wasn't the only one going
through a transition on that day.  Rather, they all were doing the
same thing.  How they made out would help to shape the journey ahead
both on individual and group levels.


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes and such, please see Part 1

Chapter 25 [Althanor]

The high priestess coughed nervously.  For days, she had been bed
ridden with the same fever and weakness that had been sapping her
strength for the previous year.  Soon, it would be her turn to make
the Great Journey.  Then, Cybelle must be ready to take her place as
the overseer of the hidden realm.  "She is ready even if she doesn't
want to admit to herself.  Genaria will be a wonderful advisor."

At that moment, a knock came from the door.  "Yes?" she croaked.

"Mother, it's me, Genaria.  Cybelle and the others just arrived.
Should I show them in?" Genaria requested.

"Please show David, Angela, Cybelle, and Deirdre inside.  Their
friends should wait outside," the elder woman coughed.

A moment later, the door creaked open, allowing the two priestesses
and their relatives inside of the chamber.

"Mother?  What is it?" Deirdre gasped.  Granted, when she had last
seen the high priestess a few days earlier, the latter had been
feeling poorly.  Now, she felt the death maiden nearby.  Soon, the old
woman would be gone.

"Search your senses, Child.  They're telling you what you wish to
know," the old lady advised.

Cybelle rubbed her niece's shoulder supportively and told her to step
back. "Mother, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"Yes.  Cybelle, within a few days, I'll be with our predecessors in
the Land Beyond the Mists.  Then, it must be you who takes my place,"
the head priestess indicated.

Although, she was still reluctant to do it, the heiress nodded, "As
you wish."

"David, please come closer," the ill priestess requested.

He stepped forward, bowed respectfully, and inquired, "Cybelle
indicated you had something to say to me.  What might I learn from
you, my Lady?"

The woman grinned ever so slightly.  He had learned some degree of
reverence at least.  No doubt Pauline had seen to that.  "Yes.  I
wanted to thank you for taking up the challenge."

"If I didn't, then who else would have done it?" he replied.  "For so
many reasons, it's my job to deal with that slime."

She concurred, "And I wish you the greatest success with your task.
Before I go, yours is the last debt that must be cleared.  Fight well.
Fight with honor.  Remember, you carry the hopes of a whole realm on
your shoulders."

For a long minute, the professor stood silently, meditating on her
words, before saying, "I...I know.  And I will try to control myself
long enough to finish it."

She frowned, "Then, you plan to face him by yourself without the
Other?"

"Mother," Cybelle pointed out.  "The Child is uncontrollable.  We
can't rely on him to do anything."

She disagreed, "Nonsense.  When you were possessed by Ares, he stopped
you.  And did he not make the deal with you, David, to stop Alti?  No,
he must have a role in this affair as well.  Bertrand du Dijon must
face his creation in this fight.  I have foreseen it."

"He'll lapse?" Angie wondered, looking nervously at her husband.

"Indeed," the infirm leader affirmed.  "You will have to trust him.
As you defeated the shamaness, so too will you best Dijon and address
the wrong which he did to Pauline and her husband.  I have seen it.
The goddess wishes it to be as such.  Angela?"

"Yes?" the oncologist inquired.

"It is up to you and Francesca to stand ready, watching for treachery.
At the first sign of trouble, the goddess requests that Xena and
Gabrielle deal with the situation," the priestess instructed.

"Count on it," the younger woman agreed.

"Very well," the old woman stated.  "You all have your roles and
instructions.  If you don't mind, Deirdre, can you take your parents
and their friends back?  I'll need Cybelle with me for a while yet."

"As you wish, Mother," the newest priestess accepted.  Then, she
showed her parents out of the hut.

Cybelle glanced nervously at her leader.  Her brother wasn't the only
one about to undergo a transition.  Shortly, everything would be
different.  Very different indeed.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes and such, please see Part 1

Chapter 26
[Istanbul]

The sun had set early on that particular day, filling the sky with a
bloody red panorama outlined by the brassy thunderheads over the
fateful scene.  Having been given their instructions, the police had
cordoned off the area around the Golden Horn and the old palace
complex.  No visitors.  Those people who lived there were to stay in
their homes.  Once Deirdre popped the group into the area, it would be
locked down.  Due to these announcements, one could easily understand
the electricity in the air during the last hours leading up to the
battle.  

***

Now that it was dark, Alyce was free to wait for her university
colleague on a nearby ferry dock.  Everyone had hoped that in choosing
Istanbul, anyone who might have known anything about the battle or the
contestants would be half a world away.  Lydia Coltrane's presence,
despite the fact she knew about Dave's abilities as well as having
witnessed the acceptance of the challenge, could jeopardize everything
especially if the Enforcers decided to take hostages.  "We'll have to
be careful," she decided, shaking ever so slightly.  Trusting in
LaCroix wasn't something she liked to do in any event.  With potential
lives on the line, she felt even worse about it.

Finally, after twenty minutes of waiting, the boat pulled into the
dock.  Scanning the passengers, the curator located her associate's
particular heartbeat.  Ten minutes after that, the Middle Eastern
specialist had disembarked and met up with her.

"Alyce, is everything all right?  I came as fast as I could!" Lydia
indicated.

"Everything's as right as it can be given the situation," the curator
replied cryptically.  "Now, come.  We have to meet the others."

The historian glanced at her quizzically, "Others?"

"Dave, Angie, Nick, and Agent Petersen.  They're waiting," she
repeated.

With a slight nod from the newcomer, the two women hustled from the
waterfront, up the hill, and over to the Hotel Suliaman.  Walking into
the elegant hotel, they took the elevator upstairs, heading for the
meeting of the minds occurring above.

***

An hour earlier, Dave sat in silent meditation within an upstairs room
of the hotel.  In the background, the soft sound of dervish music
wafted throughout the room and the scent of candles permeated the air.
It might have been simpler to use the potion that his sister had made
to put the Child to sleep so that he could fight rationally.  But,
after giving the matter some thought, he knew that the High Priestess
was correct.  To win this contest, he couldn't go in with one hand
tied behind his back.  To survive, the Child might-and probably would-
-have to engage Dijon directly.  "More than likely, he'll be doing
most of the fighting," he thought.

"Now, don't sell yourself short, Brother," the Dark One rasped from
the inky blackness, appearing as a negative image surrounded by a
brilliant corona.  "Ya've scrapped too, ya know."

"Right.  The last time we faced Dijon-you were in charge," the
professor protested.

"Not in Tucson.  After we dumped the witch from Hell, it was you who
stood up to Dijon.  That took guts," the Other reminded.  

"Like I had a choice," Dave shrugged.

"Oh, there's a choice all right.  There's runnin' like a scared rabbit
or facin' our problems like always.  That's how we survive.  That
SOB's been a pain to us all of our lives one way or another, right?"
the Child continued.

Dave sat there silently.

"RIGHT??" the Dark One repeated, with increased emphasis.

"I guess so," Dave sighed.

The Child guffawed sarcastically, "Oh, ya guess so.  C'mon!  That's
pathetic!"

Dave glared at his other half, "And I suppose you want to go in, guns
blazing, right?"

"No," the other presence disagreed.  "Ya'll forget that some of your
planning rubbed off on me.  We go in and assess the mess.  When it's
time, we kick Mustard Boy's tail.  If ya can't hack that, then let me
go in by myself.  Ya'll don't remember, but I nearly burned him and
some of his goonie boys since then.  Just don't be a wuss, okay?"

"I won't be," the professor promised.

"That's a start," the Other relented.  "Remember I'm here, and thanks
for not feeding me that crap."

"Just stay in line," Dave declared.

"Count on it," the image promised, fading away into the darkness.

The medievalist sat in the darkness for a while after that.  His mind
still floating between differing planes of reality.  After a while,
his eyes snapped open.  There was an emptiness in the room.  One that
he knew well.  "LaCroix, come out!  I know you're here."

The elder strode from the shadows.  Despite the conflict brewing
inside of the mortal, his senses were strong and acute.  For once, he
was glad that Dubois would be at his peak.  "Yes, I am.  I came to
check on you."

"To see if your prize gladiator is ready for the arena?" Dave snorted.
"How touching!  Get in line.  I've already received this speech from
other people today."

"I see," the vampire mentioned, not exactly following the other's
meaning.  

"Can I ask you a question?" 

The Roman snorted indignantly, "Would it do any good if I said 'no'?"

"Probably not," the professor growled.  "But, are you ready for me to
finish what you instigated?"

LaCroix stiffened in rage.  How dare this one constantly bait him
thus?  "If you survive, Dubois, understand this:  your feud with Dijon
means nothing to me.  Once the battle is over, then I'll be free to
hunt you down like the vermin you are."

"Good," the mortal spat, rising from the floor.  "Because if you do,
I'll promise you one thing.  Even if you win, I'll make sure that
you'll be hurting after that."  Lapsing, he allowed the Child to
state, "I don't think ya'll be able to take us, Croisie.  Personally,
there is nothin' we would like better than Nick gettin' cured just to
tick ya off."

At that moment, the light snapped on, flooding the room with light.
Turning, the two debaters saw Xena standing in the doorway.

"That's enough, Lucius," she threatened, readying her chakram.
"You've said your piece.  Now, leave before I throw you out."

The Elder snarled, "Go away, Xena!  Or I'll make you regret it!"

She arched her eyebrow, allowing herself a smile and chuckled darkly, 
"I didn't know you had taken up comedy.  For once, quit while you're
ahead."

"We have our own issues," LaCroix countered, allowing his fangs to
descend and eyes to change color.

"Yes," she agreed, smiling coldly.  "And, as you said to David,
Butcher, one day, I will hunt you down and see my sword stuck through
that lump of coal you call a heart.  Unless David does his job, Dijon
moves ahead of you on my list, but after that, our own feud resumes."

The thought of the Warrior Princess fighting the head Enforcer
intrigued him.  "I don't think you could do it."

"I've taken out worse than the Burgundian in my time.  Now scram!"
she snarled, flinging her weapon.  The projectile caromed off the
walls, the lights, and other pieces obscured by the darkness.

LaCroix ducked several times as the metal blade whizzed close to his
head. Deciding that it wasn't yet time for them to fight, he hissed,
"I'll remember this insult, Xena."  With that, he took off.

"Good riddance," she declared.  Then, turning to her friend, she
asked, "Are you all right?  That was pretty brazen of you."

"As if he could've done anything," he argued.  "Tonight, I'm his
sacrificial cow.  No, he needs me to rid the  Community of Dijon's
threat.  Then, they can deal with the remaining Enforcers and smoke
out the Renegades.  Now, if you'll excuse me, we're down to three
hours before the big event."

"Whatever," she shrugged.  "Just don't do anything stupid in the
meantime."

"I won't," he agreed.  "And Xena?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Thanks for stepping in.  He was getting on my nerves," he stated, a
smile forming on his face.

She nodded, marveling at his self-control.  "Maybe we might get out of
this one all right," she thought.  Then, she rubbed his shoulder,
"You're welcome.  By the way, I think Nicholas wanted to see you."

"Okay," he agreed.  "And please let Angie know everything's going
okay.  I'll talk to her later."

"Right," she noted, watching him walk out of the room.  Proceeding
about the area, she blew out the candles one by one and shut off the
CD player.  "Whatever's in this stuff, I'll have to ask Angela to get
more of it for him," she noted, examining the jewel case.  With that,
she left, leaving the room quiet and still in her wake.

***

A few minutes later, Dave stopped in front of a door at the other end
of the hall and knocked loudly.

"Dave?" Nick's voice asked.  "Come in please."

The professor opened the door and walked into the area.  He noticed
Nick sitting at an antique desk, looking at a familiar little box in
front of him.  "Xena mentioned that you wanted to see me."

"Yes," the vampire detective agreed.  "I wanted to lend you something
for tonight."  Opening the top, he revealed the old cross.

"Jeanne's cross?" the medievalist protested.  "Nick, I can't take
that!"

"Yes you can," Nick retorted in a tone that didn't allow for any
argument.  "Take it.  She would want you to carry it with you tonight.
It'll remind you to have faith and to be strong."

Dave picked up the ancient artifact and studied it for a long minute. 
As in the loft several months earlier, the feelings washed across his
consciousness.  However, this time he saw her charging forth on the
battlefield, scattering English and Burgundian soldiers in front of
her like so many frightened mice.  Behind her, the French surged
forward toward their goal. "Right," he agreed, his eyes watering.
"Merci beaucoup, Nicolas."

"You're welcome," the detective replied warmly.  "So, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Dave indicated nervously.  "The bow and
shafts are in my room, as is the sword.  It won't be long now.  If you
don't mind, I'll see you later."

"Sure," Nick agreed.  "We'll talk later."

"Count on it," the professor assured him while leaving the room.

Nick rose from his chair and stared out the window toward the Golden
Horn.  Already, he knew the preparations were underway.  If all went
well, the Community would be a tad bit safer after tonight.  And, to
himself, he made a silent prayer requesting just that.





Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 27

As the clock struck 11:30, Brother Tony rocked nervously in his chair,
grasping his Bible closely to his chest.  "I wish it were over and
done with," he complained.

Eve replied reassuringly, "The time will be here before we know it.
Meanwhile, we need to wait.  Dave still needs time to prepare.
According to Mother, he went to speak with Nick."

"I'm sure he's giving Dave some strategies," Gabrielle supposed.  "By
the way, what's going on with Alyce and Lydia?"

"They're down the hall.  Alyce is keeping her in a room until the
vampires leave for the battle," the former Messenger mentioned.

"That's right," Xena agreed, walking into the room.  "And David just
went back to his room to get his gear. Cybelle will be here soon, so
be ready to go."

"What about you, Xena?" the bard-queen asked.

"I'm going to have one last chat with David.  Let's go, Gabrielle,"
she declared.

Picking up her staff, the Potadeian followed her friend out of the
room and down the hall.  A moment later, they stood in front of the
door.

"Xena, Gabrielle, come in," Dave's voice announced as the door creaked
open on its own volition.

The two warriors entered the area to see him talking with Karen,
Deirdre, and Steve.  "Looks like quite the party," the Thracian
warrior supposed.

"That it is," Karen deadpanned, albeit more cavalierly than she felt.

Steve paced about the room nervously.  "You know, Dave.  You still can
back out of this."

"No, Steve, I can't.  One way or another, this ends tonight.  I've
been living under this threat for 15 years.  It ends by dawn.  No
matter what, I've stopped them from coming after my family.  In so
doing, I've done my duty," Dave argued.

"Well, I can see you're not going to change your mind," Karen realized
and embraced him tightly.  "Come back safely, okay?  I'm not in the
mood for a funeral right now."

He nodded and joked, "Make up that sundae for me.  I'll get it after
I'm done."

His former girlfriend's eyes sparkled at that remark.  Somehow, she
knew he really would take up her on that dessert.  "Count on it, Sir,"
she concluded, kissing his cheek.

"That's goes for me too, Chief," Steve added, jabbing him good-
naturedly.  "Natalie and I'll be pulling for you."

"Okay.  I really appreciate it," the medievalist accepted, rubbing his
head and messing up his hair.

He straightened his appearance and grinned before walking out of the
room.

Xena closed the door to insure their privacy and indicated, "We don't
have much longer.  I'm letting Angela out to talk with you."
Sheathing her sword, she focused and changed back into Angie.

"Dave?  How's it going?" she asked, trying to keep upbeat.

"I'm as good as I'm going to get," he replied grimly, slipping the
quiver strap over his right shoulder and testing the bow's string.
"And you?"

"Other than watching my husband's attempts to commit suicide?  Oh, I'm
fine," she laughed derisively.  
 
He hugged her tightly, "Now, it's going to be okay.  Just a bit more
business to take care of.  Right?"

She sobbed, "Right...I...I guess.  But, what you said to Karen, I'm
holding you to it, Buster."

"I'll be there to collect on it," he stated, kissing her passionately.
"Count on it."

At that moment, Deirdre nodded to Gabrielle and then announced, "It's
time, everyone."  

"Um, Angela?" Gabrielle asked.

"Gotcha," the doctor realized, drawing the sword and changing back
into Xena.  "Thanks, Gabrielle.  You ready, David?"

Securing the sword to his belt, he agreed.  "This is a bit bulky, but
I'll be fine."

"Then, let's hit the road," the Warrior Princess indicated, entering
the portal with the others following closely behind her.


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 (Additional note: The quote is
from Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. Charles Singleton (Princeton UP,
1989) Inferno Canto II, lines 79-108. Nick's translation of the piece
is from John Ciardi's translation (Mentor, 1982).)

Chapter 28

About 11:15PM, the observers began trickling into the battle zone.
First, the Enforcers appeared.  Not long after, the Elders joined
them.  Somewhere close by, but still within spitting distance, the
Renegades set up camp.  Fortunately, Constantine's coercion had paid
dividends in keeping the mortal rabble away on that particular
evening.  Now, they would have to wait for the witching hour to
strike.

LaCroix glanced around expectantly, surprised that Dubois and Xena
weren't here to inspect the site themselves.  "They probably did so
during the day," he realized.  "Very good."  Surveying the other
immortals, he noted the presence of the chief antagonists.  "I see you
made it," he slurred.

Al-Rami, the Egyptian Enforcer, and now, Dijon's second-in-command,
replied, "Of course.  And Dubois isn't here yet?"

"Patience," the Roman urged grimly.  "He's on his way.  I just spoke
to him, in fact."

"Really?  And what did the insolent road kill have to say for
himself?" the Enforcer chuckled.

The Elder shook his head.  "Only that he's ready for this fight.  You
are a bit sure of yourselves tonight, aren't you?"

"You know the rules of the combat, LaCroix.  No powers other than
brute strength or skill," the Egyptian reminded him.

LaCroix nodded in agreement.  Yes, Dubois would be under a size
disadvantage against the Burgundian.  However, as with his son, the
former general had heard the stories of the professor's exploits in
this part of the world.  Even without being able to use his psychic
powers, the mortal would still be a formidable enemy for Dijon to
contend with.  "Don't underestimate him, al-Rami.  That irritating
mortal has a way of finding chinks in your armor."

"We'll make sure he doesn't win," the other vampire vowed.  "Even if
we need to jump in ourselves."

"And are you ready to deal with Xena?  She'll be watching for such a
breach in the rules.  Speaking of which, I don't need to remind you,
do I?  No help for either side once the combat begins," LaCroix
stated.  "Besides you would have to deal with his other friends as
well."

"Ah, yes.  I wonder if we might have the opportunity to deal with your
traitorous offspring and that Elisian flower child," al-Rami cracked.

LaCroix's eyes glowed yellow and, glaring in the other vampire's face,
promised, "If you touch Nicholas or Livia, you'll have to deal with me
personally!  Enforcer or not, you're not powerful enough for me.  Stay
away from them!"

"Whatever," the Enforcer shook off the threat.  "I need to get back
with my brothers.  It's been entertaining, LaCroix."  An enhanced leap
later, he stood with the other hunters, awaiting their entertainment.

The Elder looked back up the hill expectantly.  Amazingly enough, he
found himself pulling for Dubois.  "Coincidental rubbish," he spat
under his breath.

***

On the other side of the area, Steve and Karen shivered despite the
season.  The cold, damp feeling was more psychologically induced than
anything else.  Still, they wondered if this time, Dave had indeed
bitten off more than he could chew.  Beside them, Natalie, Alyce,
Nick, and Lydia all waited nervously as well.  The clock seemed to
move at a snail's pace as their dreading impeded the passage of time.

"Where are Eve and Francesca?  I thought they came with you?" Lydia
probed.

"Francesca stayed back at the hotel.  Eve'll be here, trust me," Steve
noted, stretching the truth.

The Middle Eastern scholar nodded in confusion.  With their cryptic
comments, she still didn't know what to expect.

Then, the group heard a voice yell, "Lydia!  Steve! Is that you?"
Turning, they saw Marie running toward them.

Immediately, one of the Elders intercepted her.  "You shouldn't be
here," he snarled.

"I'll vouch for her," Nick stated.

"Very well, Brabant.  She's your responsibility now," the vampire
agreed, releasing her.

He guided Marie over to the others and asked, "What are you doing
here?  This area is sealed off for a reason!"

"Angie mentioned that Dave was on some mission here.  I figured this
was it," she replied anxiously.

"That it is, Marie," Steve agreed.  "He's the main event tonight."

She glanced skeptically at him, "Main event?  He's...He's going to
fight someone, isn't he?  I wish Angie would stop him from being such
an idiot.  He's going to get himself killed."

"That's a real possibility tonight," Karen sighed.  

The others put their heads down in silent denial of that possible
outcome.  Whatever happened, he needed to survive.

Then, the clock struck 11:45.  For tonight, the bells of Aya Sofia,
dormant since the 1450s, rang twice, signaling the dwindling time.

"Bells from that mosque?" Marie wondered.  "I've lived here all of my
life and never heard that sound from there."

"Medieval bells," Nick explained.  "At both Dave and Dijon's request."

She shrugged, "Whatever.  I wish something would happen."

On cue, the former Crusader sensed a familiar vibration in the night
sky.  A look skyward revealed Dijon descending toward the makeshift
arena.  As softly as a down feather, the Burgundian landed on the
cobblestones.

"So, where is he?  I'm here!  Dubois, come out, Coward!" the Enforcer
bellowed.

In the crowd, his colleagues let their approval be known.  "Where is
he?" they chorused.

"It's not yet midnight, Murderer!" Genaria challenged, appearing on
the scene through the gathering fog around the site.

"Murderer, am I?  And who are you, Girl?" the vampire chuckled.

"Genaria of Althanor," the priestess retorted menacingly.  "He'll be
here momentarily to deal with you.  You'll pay for the death of my
sister priestess."

"Sister priestess?  Whatever is she talking about?"  Dijon roared.

"Enough, Genaria!" Cybelle's voice echoed seemingly everywhere.

"I know that voice!  The Celtic witch!  Where is she?" the Burgundian
groped.

"Right here," she replied coolly, appearing in front of him, arms
crossed.  "And I'll thank you not to insult my brother.  He's right
here.  Dave?"

"Indeed," the professor agreed.  "And as the man said once:  "Da che
tu vuo' saver contato a dentro, dirotti brievemente...perch' i' non
temo di venir qua entro.  Temer si dee di sole quelle cose c'hanno
potenza di fare alturi male; de l'altre no, ché non son paurose."

Overhearing his friend, Nick chuckled, "Dante.  It figures."

"What?" Natalie asked. "Nick, what did he say?"

The former Crusader smiled, "The passage reads as I recall: 'Since
what you ask probes near the root of all, I will say briefly only how
I have come through Hell's pit without fear.  Know then, O' waiting
and compassionate soul, that is to fear which has the power to harm,
and nothing else is fearful in Hell.  I am made by God's all-seeing
mercy, your anguish does not touch me, and the flame of this great
burning has no power upon me.'  Inferno, Canto 2."  

Paying the Brabantine no mind, Dijon laughed, "Another once said such
a piece to me.  And you know what happened."

Dave scowled.  "I know, Bastard.  Tonight, you have no greedy
castellan to bribe, no gate to shut on my head, no court politics, no
tricks."

"By my last kill," the hunter cracked.  "You're taking that
personally, aren't you?"

"Your part in certain affairs during your mortal and immortal lives
set the forces in motion," the professor continued.  "Then, there's
the Child.  You two have a score of your own so he tells me.   Dijon,
you called me a coward.  I call you a murderer and question your
honor."  Walking up to the immortal, he took a glove out of his pocket
and slapped his opponent across the face twice.  "Would a coward do
that?"

"I'll rip you limb from limb right now!" the vampire knight roared
indignantly, going for his sword.

"Uh, uh," the medievalist baited, shaking his head at the enraged
adversary.  "Not until midnight.  We have eight whole minutes yet."

Dijon quaked with rage.  "Very well.  Eight minutes then.  Not a
second longer," he groused, stalking off to the other side of the
cordoned-off area.

Dave looked back through the fog.  "Everyone?  It's time."

"Very well," Xena replied, stepping onto the field.  Gabrielle, Eve,
and Brother Tony followed closely behind.  "We're here.  By the way,
are you sure that's smart?  Baiting him like that?"

"I'll take him apart like a dried wishbone," he shrugged.  "With my
powers, I'll..."

"That's just it," Nick revealed while landing behind him.  "In this
combat, you can't use them.  You'll have to fight as you did before.
So does he."

Dave snarled, "Are you sure?  Nobody mentioned that!"

"It figures," Gabrielle interjected.  "So, what do you do now, David?"

"I have no choice, but to fight in any event," Dave replied.  "Brother
Tony, Eve, would you mind?"

"Of course," the two spiritual guides agreed.  Kneeling together, they
thought about their separate reflections for a minute.

Then, the minister implored, "Father, please protect this man as he
champions your cause against the demon he'll face tonight.  Be his
shield and grant him strength."

"Amen," Eve added.

"Amen," Dave concurred, rising to his feet and checking his gear one
last time.

"David, be careful," the Amazon queen told him.

"Right," he agreed, giving her a tight hug.  Then, he saw Xena
standing there expectantly.  For a split second, he could see his
wife's face instead of the warrior's.  Forcing himself to his senses,
he embraced her as well, whispering, "Whatever happens, take care of
Angie.  You promise?"

"You bet," she confirmed, giving him that firm, narrow-eyed glare.
"Just come back in one piece.  For both of us, you survive this mess."

"Lord willing," he stated.  A glance around the crowd took in the
faces of his friends and enemies.  For a moment, time stood still.
Then, the bells started their siren call, signaling midnight and that
time had run out.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 (Additional Note: This fight gets
pretty brutal especially at the end.  If you don't like such things,
skip to the next chapter.)

Chapter 29

For two minutes, Dijon waited for the chimes to finish, relishing the
opportunity awaiting him.  "Come on, Dubois!  Let's go!" he
challenged.  "Now!"

"I'm coming, Loudmouth!" the professor roared in response.  Gripping
his sword in one hand, he stepped into the center of the area.  

As the two combatants stood toe to toe, the Burgundian's advantage
could be seen by all in terms of size, weight, and bulk.  

"Are you ready to die, Mortal?" the knight inquired.

"Not really.  I have a surprise for you when the time comes," the
medievalist growled.  "Are you ready or are we just going to talk all
night?"  Turning to the Elders, he requested, "LaCroix, can we get
started?"

The former general shrugged, "As you wish.  You both understand the
rules.  No extra powers.  No quarter.  No outside help.  Once somebody
breaks those rules, all limits are lifted.  Understand?"  When the
adversaries nodded, he ordered, "Begin!"

Dijon swung first, his blade a silver streak in the moonlight.  Dave
parried smoothly.  

For three hours, they anticipated each other's moves in this deadly
dance of death.  Then, the professor scored the first cut-a gash
across the knight's arm, which healed quickly, but stung his pride
nevertheless.

"First blood," Dijon admitted.  "Very good, Dubois.  But, we're still
not through!"  Going after the professor again, he charged blade
first, only to miss badly.  "Will you stand still?"

"What?  And make this easy for you?  I thought you were the best
fighter in Burgundy.  And here you are, you can't even make contact
with me," Dave baited.  "You know what your problem is, Dijon?"

"Tell me," the immortal snarled, swinging his blade.

"You're too well-documented for your own good," Dave grinned, blocking
the shot.  "Denis' Recueils de Bourgogne outlines your fighting style.
I studied that and a few of your colleagues' documents in Rouen and
Orleans.  You didn't think I was going to go all that way just to see
you?"  Pushing hard, he managed to shove his opponent away.

"No, I suppose not," the Burgundian admitted, raising his sword.
"But, how long can you keep going?  I can sense your exhaustion
creeping up on you.  I can go all night if need be.  Who do you think
is going to win, hmm?"  Bringing the ancient blade down on the other's
weapon, he asked, "Who?"

The professor knew that he was right, but would never admit it.
Already, the effort to swing his weapon and parry Dijon's blows was
sapping him.  Fighting with the bow, not like this, was his preferred
style.  As such, he was being forced into a defensive battle.  "Go to
Hell," he snarled, riding a surge of adrenaline.  "Come on!"

"You don't disappoint, Dubois.  I'll give you that!" the former knight
complemented.  "Stand still and I'll end this quickly!"

"Sorry," the other adversary disagreed.  Backpedaling, he put about 50
feet between them.  Then, he grabbed his bow and lit an arrowhead.
"This is getting really old."  Firing the shaft, he watched it land at
Dijon's feet and explode in an herb-laced cloud.  "I made that
especially for you, Asshole."

"That's cheating!" the Enforcers yelled, advancing on the battle area.

"Stuff it!" Xena glowered, her sword and chakram ready in each hand.
"He's using his weapons and wits not his powers!  Of course, if you
would like to dispute that with me..."

Gabrielle raised her javelin expectantly and challenged, "Bring it
on."

LaCroix raised his hand, indicating, "That's enough!  She's right.
Dubois' strategy is legal."

In the arena, Dijon coughed, "You couldn't resist using your toys,
could you?"

"I had enough of fighting your way so I improvised," the professor
shrugged, firing another shaft.  However, without his powers, he
couldn't fire fast enough to anticipate his opponent's reflexes.

"Nice try," the vampire snarled.  "Cheating or not, I'm ending this!" 
Streaking at Dave, he impacted the other man, knocking him into a
stone wall, and sending arrows flying everywhere.  Allowing his fangs
to descend, he laughed, "You should have stuck to the sword play,
Dubois."  With that, his mouth moved toward the other's neck.

Dave managed to squirm just enough to grab a regular arrow and jab it
right into his attacker's side.  "You shouldn't play with your food,"
he stated and pushed the Burgundian away.

"Fine," the vampire knight growled, wincing as he pulled the oversized
splinter from his side.  Then, picking up a piece of masonry, he
declared,  "Take this!"  Flinging the projectile, he watched as the
overhang collapsed before the professor could react, trapping him.
"Ha!  Now, I've won!  Nobody could have survived that!" he crowed.

Xena stepped into the arena, sword drawn, a dark look plastered across
her face.  "Prepare to die, Scum," she challenged.

"You now?" the Burgundian laughed.  "Be serious!  LaCroix, what is
this?"

"She has a claim on you," the Roman stated.

"As do I," Cybelle glowered, standing just a hair behind the arena's
edge.  "And if you get through her, you face me next."

The immortal laughed, "Is that the best you can do?  Fight me with
women?"

Steve tensed, "I'll show that smug sonnuva."  Raising his crossbow, he
took a step forward only to be stopped by Natalie and Karen.

"Steve, no!  He'll rip you apart!" the latter protested.

"Listen to her please!" Natalie implored.  "I don't want you dead.
Please!"

Nick grabbed his arm.  From the wreckage, he sensed Dave's heartbeat. 
"Watch the pile," he told the agent.

Steve hesitated for a second.  He stared at the debris pile.  Somehow,
it was moving ever so slightly.  "Xena, look!"

The Warrior Princess followed his indication and saw the shifting
rubble herself.  "By Eli, he's not dead.  David, come out!  You can do
it!"

Everyone in the crowd stared in amazement.  How could anyone survive a
ton of stone falling on him or her like that?  Then, they heard a
single sound at first, low at first, but building in crescendo with
each second.  The telltale growling emanating from the pile puzzled
all but those who knew best.  The pile shook with increasing activity
until it exploded in all directions, allowing the injured professor to
climb to his feet.  His ribs hurt and it pained him to take a deep
breath, but there was no way he was going to quit.

"Keep your armor on," he growled low.  "'Sides, it's my turn still.
Dijon, ya cheated!"

"As if you had anything to say about it," the Enforcer cracked.
"Still, I must admit it's good to see you still standing.  I'll have a
bit more amusement tonight."

"For a butcher, you talk too much," Dave challenged, taking back some
measure of control.  

"And with your injuries, you're foolhardy," Dijon taunted back.

"You're right," the professor admitted.  "I'll let someone else take
you."  As he had been struggling for the past few minutes to hold
back, it was a simple matter to just let go.  Instantly, the smile was
back and so was the attitude.

"Ya'll pay for that, Mustard Boy," the Child growled.  "Now, let's
go!"

Dijon hesitated for a brief second.  Then, he started to swing his
sword, but was slammed backward into the wall by a pulse.

"C'mon!  Fight me!" the enraged opponent bellowed.  "Not so smug are
ya?"  Firing another pair of blasts, he pummeled the ancient knight to
his knees.  "This too," he added darkly, blasting the other into the
cobbles and stunning him.  "Hey, Sis, ya got that toy Big Brother
asked for?"

"Right here," the priestess grinned savagely, handing him a Swiss
pike.  "I can't wait to see what you're going to do with it."

"Watch," the Child chuckled as he dragged Dijon toward the middle of
the ring.  Aiming his bow, he fired a pair of shafts through each
shoulder, causing the other agony.  Then, getting right in the
Burgundian's face, he baited, "Not so tough now, are you?"  Holding up
the weapon, he added, "You know what this is?"

"It's...a...pike.  So what?  It's metal.  It can't...kill...me," the
agonized immortal gasped.

"Oh, it's not just any pike," Cybelle added, walking onto the scene
and kneeling beside him.  "We borrowed that weapon from a museum in
Switzerland.  It seems that was the weapon which killed your brother."

Dijon's eyes bulged at the significance of this tool, but could say
nothing.

"Kind of ironic, no?" the priestess grinned wickedly.  

"Here goes!" the Child crowed, ramming it through his opponent.
"Sword?"

Nick winced, guessing at his friend's intent.  Still, the former
Crusader handed him that too.  "Here.  Are you going to kill him now?"

"Nah.  We're going to have ourselves a good ol' fashioned cookout,"
the Caustic Kid cracked, using the sword to further pin the Enforcer
down.  

"According to the paper, it's set for 5AM.  About 30 minutes from
now," the priestess noted.  Turning to the crowd, she announced, "It's
over, Everyone."

"We aren't going anywhere!" the Enforcers bellowed.  "We want Dijon!"

"Battle to the death, right?" the Child declared, a cold smile
crossing his face.  "Come on!  Let's go!"

"Go," Dijon urged weakly.  "Avenge me!"

Al-Rami looked to the east and noticed the brightening horizon.  "Very
well.  Bertrand, it's been an honor."  Turning to the others, he
added, "Let's go!"

As a group, the immortal hunters disappeared into the sky, racing to
find shelter against the impending dawn.

"That goes for you and Alyce as well, Nicholas," Xena advised the
vampire detective.

"Step through," Cybelle urged.  When they had done so, she noticed
Constantine standing there.  "Why are you still here?"

After exchanging a brief glance with his master, the gangster stepped
forward, "Actually, I have a message for all of you if I may.  I
wanted to thank you for helping me back in Italy."

"That wasn't the intent, Old Man," the Child snickered.  "We wanted
the damn manuscript.  The suits just got in our way.  Their mistake."

"In any event, I wanted to relay my gratitude for your assistance,"
the fledgling continued.  "I'll await you, LaCroix."  With that, he
took off, heading for the nearest hotel.

"Lucius?" Eve asked.  "You really should go as well."

"Unless of course, ya wanna be the next course on the barby," the
Child sneered menacingly.  

"You would like that," the Roman sneered.  "But, as I told you before,
Dubois.  Tonight changes nothing!  As of now, our war is on once
again!"

"Bring it on, Croisie," the madman baited, stepping toward the senior
vampire, his hands glowing.  "I'll be waitin'."

"As will the rest of us," Cybelle promised, stepping to her brother's
side.

"You know how I feel," the Warrior Princess added, patting her left
hand with the side of her blade.

"Bah!" the Elder spat, disappearing in a flash.  His war on Dubois
could wait for a while yet.  For now, it was time to find shelter from
the sun.

The rest of the party stood just close enough to look upon the
condemned vampire.  Within minutes, the sun would finish him off in
any event.

"Enjoy your victory!  It won't last!" the immortal screamed defiantly.

"Stuff it," the Child declared, looking skyward.  "Sun's up!"
Stepping back, he stated, "Big Brother wanted me to tell ya, adiable,
Massacrer!"

By now, the daylight was scorching the Enforcer's skin.  "One day,
you'll...regret...this."  Then, he burst into flames and was gone,
leaving the others behind in his wake.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 30
[O' Connell Manor]

The day passed quietly for the group.  For the most part, they stayed
in their rooms, resting and trying to cope with what they had seen
during the previous day.  But while Dijon had been removed from the
scene, the other Enforcers' reaction to the duel's outcome said that
there would be other attacks in the future.  Yet, due to the need to
reconstruct their organization and choose a new leader, the residents
of the Old Pueblo would be safe for a while at least.  With that time,
they would be able to coordinate a defense against any renewed threat
from either the Enforcers or the Renegades.  

***

Dave stumbled down the stairs about 4:30 PM to the main sitting room. 
Despite his victory, he had cracked two more ribs and sprained his
ankle in extricating himself from the pile.  "At least the Child
doesn't worry about pain," he groused.  "I guess that's my
department."

"I would guess so," Alex agreed, emerging from his study.  "Good
afternoon, David.  I trust you're feeling better than you were this
morning?" A perplexed look from his guest pushed him to continue, "You
returned from Istanbul this morning about 7 o' clock and immediately
went to bed.  However, you left a rather unique sword and a small urn
down here.  I hope you don't mind if I put them in my study for safe
keeping?"

"Thank you," the younger professor noted, sipping on the cup of coffee
placed in front of him.  "That does hit the spot."

"So what about Dijon?  Will he be back?" Alex probed.

The other man shook his head.  "I don't think so.  That urn, if what
I'm hearing is true, contains part of Dijon's ashes.  The rest were
scattered so he can never regenerate."

"Never say never, David," his host reminded him.  "You once said the
same thing about Alti, and my mother made the same assumption about
Imhotep."

The mention of those two in the same sentence made the medievalist's
head throb.  "Yeah, I see your point," he admitted.  "At least, I took
care of one issue last night.  But I am grateful for the help of my
family and friends.  Without their belief in me, I might not have been
able to continue last night."

"Now, Dave," Angie chided gently, descending the stairs in her bright
blue robe.  "You handled yourself just fine.  Granted, I really didn't
relish hearing about the masonry pile falling on your head, but all's
well that ends well, right?" She kissed the top of his head before
sitting down beside him.

Alex studied his granddaughter carefully.  Once again, she hadn't been
on the scene yet she knew everything.  Another quandary: Why was Xena
always so close to David?  He knew there was a connection and somehow,
it involved Angela.  As his mother had 60 years prior, the
archaeologist decided to investigate this mystery.

"Right," her husband agreed.

"Not exactly," Michael's voice announced as he appeared in the room.
"Dubois, you were supposed to kill Dijon with the sword!"

"He's dead.  We have his ashes to prove it!  What's your point?" the
medievalist wondered.

Flexing his hand, the archangel made the weapon appear in his hand.
"There was a purpose in the method!"

"Yeah, like sending me to Hell to do some dirty work for you?" Dave
challenged.  When he didn't receive a response, he continued, "I had
heard something like that."

"The prophecy?  How did?" the visitor demanded.  Turning to Angie, he
demanded, "You told him!  Xena told you, didn't she?"

"What she knows, I know, Michael.  Those are the rules of our
arrangement," she slipped anxiously.  Mouthing off to an archangel
wasn't something she did everyday.

Her grandfather mouthed, " 'Knows what I know'?"  He asked, "Angela,
what is he talking about?"

The angel grinned, "Please tell him, Angela."

Angie looked at her companion who shrugged.  For a long minute, she
tried to think about all of the possible fibs she could tell, but none
would have worked.  Then, she requested, "Grandpa Alex, can you keep a
secret?  Even from Momma and Daddy?"

"What could be so serious, Child?" Alex wondered.  

"Oh, I think you'll see," Dave muttered.  "Cover your eyes, Alex."  

After he had done so, the oncologist managed to draw up enough nerve
to give Michael a dirty look as she drew the sword.  

"You can look now," Xena indicated.

The old man nearly doubled over with shock.  "Xena!  But where's my
granddaughter?  What are you doing here?"

"Alexander, settle down," the warrior advised.  "Angela and I are
actually the same person.  Sort of.  We inhabit the same body, but we
keep ourselves separate from each other."

"So that's what you meant when you told my mother about her.  You were
her," he realized.  "That would explain a lot.  But, shouldn't
your...I mean her...parents know?"

"And give them a heart attack?" Dave argued.  "C'mon.  They really
don't need to know."

"And what about Brother Tony?  You shouldn't lie to him either," the
old man pressed.

"She didn't," the minister interjected, entering the room from the
chapel.  "Pardon me, Michael, for intruding."

"You're fine," the archangel excused.  "Do continue."

"What do you mean?  You knew?" Alex protested.  "And you didn't tell
her parents?"

"I'm bound by the sanctity of my office not to do so.  She told me
just before the destruction of Wabash's downtown.  Alexander, I would
beg you.  The news would damage Bill and Jennifer's relations with
Angela and the family," Tony debated

"And why should I keep quiet?  Jennifer is my daughter!  Her mother!
She deserves to know!" the archaeologist ranted.

"Because you owe us your life," Dave interrupted tersely.  

"And because we say so," two other voices announced from the corner.
In a flash of light, the spirits of Rick and Evelyn O' Connell
materialized. Along with them, Lorenzo stood silently yet allowing a
warm smile for his grandson.  

"Michael, may we?" the Luccese angel asked.

"You may," he assented.  "Dubois, this isn't over.  Because of your
failure to adhere to the rules, you have unleashed something
terrible." Looking up, he disappeared in a flash of light.

"I just get done taking down a vampire Enforcer and he whines about
that.  Un-stinking--believable," Dave growls.

"You did good, Robin Hood," Rick complemented.

"I agree.  Good show!" Evy added.  "As for you, Alex, can't you listen
to the good minister?"

The old man gaped in shock, "Mum, is that really you?"

The brown-tressed angel smiled warmly at her son.  "Yes, Dear.  It's
me.  Trust in what Brother Tony says.  Please keep the secrets that
you know about David and Angela," she requested.

"I will, Mum.  That's a promise," the elderly archaeologist vowed.

"Thanks," his father expressed.  "You don't know how proud we are of
these two right now.  They did get a bit creative with things and
disrupted Michael's plans.  But, for today, everyone's satisfied."

"Well, thank my grandfather," the professor explained.  "He told me
about the great chain of knowledge."

"Great chain?" the minister and Warrior Princess wondered.

"Sure.  Nightmares are caused by fear.  Fear is caused by ignorance.
Ignorance is caused by a lack of knowledge.  And knowledge comes from
study.  Isn't that right, Grandpa?" Dave recited.

"Absolutely," the third angel agreed.  "And you've applied those
lessons well in the cases of Alti and Dijon well.  Now, you truly
understand the lesson of the Dark Wood, don't you?"

"Yes I do," the medievalist concurred.  "Ago gratias sibi.  Thanks."

"Before you leave, there's someone who wanted to meet you again," Xena
indicated, rushing into the side guest room.  A couple of minutes
later, she brought Deirdre back with her.

"Wow," the sleepy priestess yawned.  "Excuse me.  And you are?"

"They're your great-grandparents, Sweetie," Dave smiled.  

"Great-Grandpa Alvaro and Great-Great Grandpa and Grandma O' Connell,"
she realized.  "I've been looking at all of your artifacts!  They're
amazing!"

"Thank you," Evy mentioned.  When they had last seen the girl, she had
been a six year old.  Somehow, her instincts about this granddaughter
had been accurate.  "We've been watching you, Deirdre, and we're very
proud."

"You're a little bigger than we might have expected, but you're still
the same person," Rick chimed in.  

"Right," Lorenzo agreed.  "Sorry to break this up, but we must go.
David, once again, nice work.  Perhaps not the right means, but the
method was accomplished for today at least."  With that, he vanished,
followed closely by the O' Connells.

Alex plopped heavily into his seat, muttering, "Unbelievable!"

Xena sheathed her sword and changed back into Angie.  Once done, the
oncologist asked, "Grandpa Alex, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Angel," he explained.  "And your secret is safe with me.
If it's good enough for my parents, it's good enough for me."

"Thanks for trusting me," she smiled, hugging him tightly.

"My pleasure.  Just keep doing the right thing," he directed.

"You can count on it," she agreed.

"Very good.  Now, I think this tea is getting cold.  Shall we?" Alex
asked.

The others joined him in enjoying the hot blackberry drinks and
scones.  After the excitement and tension of the previous days, it was
a welcome change from everything.  A welcome change indeed.
 
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes and such, please see Part 1

Conclusion

[Istanbul, The next night]

Unlike two nights earlier, the area along the Golden Horn remained
silent.  One might have said that the excitement from the battle had
sopped up all of the energy from the area, leaving it tired and worn
out.  Despite being opened up to mortal traffic after sunrise, the
district remained quiet as nobody dared to stride on the cobbles in
fear of what they might find around the next corner or down the
alleyway.

One being, however, paced along the waterfront fretfully.  Ali brooded
over the death of his prized yet troubled offspring.  "Why didn't he
listen to me?" he wondered aloud.  "I advised him against this mad
mission."

"You know children," LaCroix cut in.

"Lucius!  Have you no decency?  I need a moment if you don't mind,"
the other Elder reprimanded.

Under other circumstances, the old Roman might have corrected the
other. Under these conditions, the statement was understandable.  "I
wanted to express my sympathies, Ali," he said simply, his face
expressionless.

"My thanks for that at least.  But, why did you have to demand the
duel?  You used Bertrand as a weapon in your game against the
Duboises.  Look where he is now!" the Middle Eastern immortal ranted.

The general nodded.  True, the Burgundian had been useful in many
ways.  However, the braggart overplayed his hand on several occasions
at great cost to the Community.  "I had no choice, Ali.  The rules are
the rules."

"And if it had been Nicholas?  What then?  Would you done the same?"
the grieved master demanded.

"Of course," LaCroix agreed, careful not to allow his reticence to
show through.  "But, not even Nicholas would be that foolish to risk
the duel as his mortal friend did.  Think, Ali.  Dijon provoked this
contest.  But, make sure his death wasn't in vain."

"Meaning I take care of Dubois?" Ali wondered.  

"He is mine," the Roman Elder declared.  "As are his friends.  No, I
am referring to those ingrate children within the Community.  This is
their doing.  They sent Bertrand after Xena and Dubois in the first
place.  Help me to convince the Council to deal with these children
before they destroy everything!"

"I will do so.  Thank you, Lucius, for the suggestion.  Now, if you'll
excuse me," his colleague mentioned. 

"Of course," LaCroix concluded before taking off into the night.

Ali watched him leave before vowing, "You'd best take care of them,
Lucius.  If you don't, I'll deal with them myself!"  Having said that,
he looked out onto the Bosporus again and stated, "You never did like
it here, Bertrand.  Now, you're free thanks to those cursed mortals.
As I promised LaCroix, I'll work to deal with those manipulative
children who pushed you thus.  Count on it, my Son."  That being said,
he flew off, leaving the area still once more.

***

[Rouen, One Night later]

The air hung heavily over the old market place as the fog shrouded
everything in a pea-soup blanket.  In the midst of that cover, Dave
and Nick followed their steps from a week earlier through the historic
district and up to the church.  There, they made their way up to the
chained off area surrounding the spot where they knew the plaque lay. 
The two men kneeled reverently, keeping silent for a bit to reflect
their thoughts.

Nick started, "Jeanne, thank you for your faith in me."  Turning to
his friend, he continued, "In us.   You don't know how much I've used
your words in my search for a cure.  I thought that you would like to
know that."

Dave added, "I also wanted to thank you for helping me last night.
When I was fighting Dijon, I felt warm, almost at ease for the first
part of the battle.  Well, he's gone now.  I took care of him.  I'm
sorry about my other half's brutality.  We both wanted to make sure
the job was finished.  At least for now, it is.  Thank you."  Rising
from the stones, he gazed into the mist in front of him.  

"Let's go.  She's waiting for us," Nick urged.

"Right," Dave agreed, laying a rose inside of the chain barrier.  One
last look later, he joined the vampire detective on their trek back to
the alley. 

When they arrived at their destination, they found Deirdre waiting for
them.  "All set?" she asked.

"We are," her father nodded.

"Are you okay, Papa?" she wondered, hugging him. "You seem so out of
it."

"Do I?" he shrugged.  "I wonder why?"

"I get the point," she cracked.  "C'mon!"  Having said that, they
disappeared through the portal into the night.


*****

[O' Connell Manor]

Back at the mansion, the other members of the party had risen and
joined Alex, Brother Tony,  and Angie downstairs.

"I guess everyone's feeling better," the host presumed.

"Much," Francesca indicated.  "Grazai."

"Especially since we've survived this trial," Eve added, staring
serenely Heavenward.  

"Is something the matter?" the minister asked.

"Oh, not really," the former Messenger replied.  "Seeing Lucius again
made me feel sad.  I do wish I could help him."

"You can't help those who won't help themselves.  Even if he was your
stepbrother," Natalie advised.

"Someday maybe," Angie added.  "Meanwhile, all we can do is keep
trying to make everything right."

"Absolutely," Brother Tony concurred.  

"I'll drink to that.  Excuse me, Brother," Steve noted, ending a
squeamish note to the end of his statement.

"Since that's a nonalcoholic drink, Steven, no problem," the minister
smiled warmly.  "Our good fortune speaks well for the power of faith."

"Amen," Karen concurred earnestly, glancing at her friends.  Faith had
carried them over that hurdle as it had all of the others.

On the other side of the table, Marie and Lydia sat quietly, listening
to the conversation and trying to understand what was happening around
them.

"That goes for us as well," Dave announced as he, Nick, and Deirdre
reentered the area.  

"So, how did it go?" his wife asked.

"I spoke my piece and somehow, I think she heard me," the professor
explained.  

"She did, and you spoke well," the vampire detective complemented.
"Well, shall we sit?"

"Absolutely, my friend.  Absolutely," Dave accepted, sinking into the
chair next to Angie's.  The air was friendly and warm, unlike what it
had been in days past.  With the storm's passage came the sunlight.
In this case, the power of friendship had persevered, guiding them
over the perilous passage to this safe cove.  For that, the group was
gratefully enjoying another day.


THE END (for now)

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this piece!  I'll be starting on the
sequel, "Father Doesn't Know Best" (a title we know LC would love,
right?<g>)  Anyhow, that story is the first of several multi-overs to
come.  For now, catch your collective breath and have a safe holiday
season!  May your wishes come true and, as with the gang here, your
faith be rewarded.

If you liked this story, please read the others at my "Story Emporium"
site (http://dante6.fanspace.com/dubois/dubois.html and
http://Dante_6.tripod.com/stories/dubois.html .) and sign up for my
"DuboisChroniclesUpdates list!  As I don't post every story to the
FKFIC-L list, this way you can keep up with the storyline.

Thanks again and Season's Greetings!

David J. Duncan