The Characters of Forever Knight do not belong to me, and no copyright infringement is intended. I have only taken them out to play for a while. They will be returned in better shape than I found them. Tale of Two Cities, and David Copperfield are by Charles Dickens, while Watchers is a contemporary novel by Dean Koontz. This story is set in the third season, immediately following "Ashes to Ashes," however, Vachon was not killed in Divia's attack. This story does contain material of an ADULT nature. Do not read if such material offends you. Valentine Therapy Thymespan Natalie waited impatiently for the lift to reach the top. She had been terrified for Nick when he left the morgue last night. With Divia out for both his and LaCroix's heads, she had barley managed to stay until the end of her shift before coming over to make sure he was all right. He was not answering his phone, and she hoped it was because he was in the shower, or not home, because she didn't know what she would do if he were gone. When the door opened she stepped inside….and froze. The couple locked together on the sofa broke apart and rose at her entrance. "Déjà vu," she said quietly. "Welcome back, Janette." She took in the other woman's disheveled clothing and alabaster complexion. Janette smiled faintly, the tips of her fangs showing over her sensuous lower lip. She licked delicately at the thin trickle of blood from her mouth. Nick started toward her and she held up her hand to stop him in his tracks. "Nat," he began. The top buttons were missing from his shirt, and she could see the healing marks on his throat from where she stood. "No Nick, that's okay. I have no right to intrude on your personal life. After all, doctors don't make house calls anymore do they," she said calmly. "I thought you might need me, how's that for a foolish mortal idea? I'll never make that mistake again." She stepped back into the lift and closed the door, leaning against the cool metal as it moved slowly to the ground level. She left the loft, ignoring his cries of her name, and made her way to her car, parked in the dawn sunlight outside the garage. She sat for a moment, considering. This situation could not go on any longer. It was hurting her, and despite his actions, she believed it was hurting Nick also. She put the car in gear and backed carefully into the roadway. There was only one person who might have the answers. The only problem being his answer could easily leave her dead. He watched through the newly repaired one-way glass as she entered the club. Most of the crowd was vampire at this time of night, as the club would officially close in half an hour. She made her way across the floor and took a seat at the bar, seemingly unaware of the number of eyes that followed her. He saw her lean forward to speak to the bartender as he sat a drink in front of her. She nodded in response to whatever he had to say and then turned to watch the crowd. LaCroix studied his son's mortal pet, wondering what had drawn her here tonight. He had not spoken with Nicholas since they had stood together at Divia's funeral pyre. He knew that Janette had returned to town, the passionate echoes through their bond were very familiar. Perhaps the good Doctor was unaware of her noble knight's current activities, he mused. A faint frown crossed his face as she accepted an invitation to dance from one of the vampires. This one was new in town, and had no idea that his son had placed this particular mortal out of bounds. Lining up a selection of CDs to cover his show for an hour, he left the broadcast booth. Making his way onto the floor, he tapped the fledgling on the shoulder. "May I cut in," he said, in a voice that made it clear this wasn't a request. The youngster turned and backed away, clearly not interested in challenging the ancient master. LaCroix turned and took the young mortal in his arms before she had a chance to object. "Good evening, Doctor," he said smoothly. "Perhaps it would be safer if you found another place to dance." She met his gaze evenly as they moved across the floor. "I came to speak with you," she told him. "I was just killing time until you were free." "Not the best choice of words when frequenting my club," he said with amusement. She grimaced at her mistake, and remained silent as he continued to hold her. He could understand his son's fascination with the young Doctor. She was a beautiful, passionate woman, and had the added gift of a formidable intelligence. What he could not understand was Nicholas's steadfast refusal to bring her fully into their world. The music ended, but he did not release her, keeping one arm firmly around her waist. He escorted her back to the booth and ushered her inside, inviting her to take a seat across from his soundboard. "Now, Doctor, what may I do for you?" She took a deep breath and clenched her hands in her lap. "Is there any way that I can walk away from the Community," she asked. "No." he answered. She looked at him, startled at his abrupt answer. "No way at all," she insisted. "Doctor, the only way the Community would trust you is if you were stripped of your memories, dead or one of us," he explained. "Too many of us know who you are since the incident with the Fever. As it is you are only one mistake away from an appointment with the Enforcers." She shuddered at the mention of the Community police force, dedicated to keeping the secrets of their existence. "Is there anyway I could go to another city, another Community," she asked. "If I volunteer to report my activities or something." "If you did that, you would end up as someone's fledgling before the first week had ended. It is only Nicholas's position as my son that has kept you safe here for the past six years." "No, LaCroix," she said firmly. "I would be dead. I know enough about the process to know that it would be my choice to return. I would not come back for a stranger." "What has brought on this sudden desire to escape Toronto, Doctor? Nicholas has not mentioned anything about moving on," he asked curiously. "Nick is otherwise occupied, as I'm sure you know," she smiled bitterly. "He has his hands full with his daughter. He had me spend six years looking for a cure that I'm not even sure he wants any more." "Nicholas has always been cursed with a conflicted nature," he mused. "But that doesn't help with your current dilemma. What is it you want from me, Doctor?" She stood, and met his ice-blue eyes. "I just wanted to know what my options were," she said softly. "Death or bondage to a total stranger, I can't say I care for either of them. I thank your for your honesty." She opened the door to the booth and turned one last time, "Goodbye, LaCroix, you were right. It's dangerous for us weak mortals to mix more than minds with your kind." She was gone before he realized the only time he'd told her that was the night at Azure. She remembered everything, despite both his and Nicholas's best efforts. No wonder his son's current housekeeping arrangements had driven her to this point, she remembered his protestations of love. A soft curse crossed his lips as he chose a tape at random to close out his show. He had no idea what she might do now. She was too unpredictable. He stalked onto the floor and made his way to the bar. "Where did Doctor Lambert go," he asked. "She left with the Spaniard, just a couple of minutes ago," the bartender told him. LaCroix felt his anger grow at the thought that she might ask the Spaniard to convert her. If anyone besides Nicholas was going to taste the Good Doctor, it was damn well going to be him. By the time he took to the air outside the club, his eyes were feral red. Nick Knight was doing his least favorite thing. Trying to catch up on his paperwork. He couldn't concentrate; the look on Natalie's face when she left the loft the other morning kept appearing before him. She had taken the week off and she wasn't answering his calls. He sighed and decided he was going to have to go by there in the morning and try to explain to her. His head snapped up at an urgent summons from his sire. "Hey, Trace," he called, as he stood and grabbed his coat. "I have an errand to run, be right back." He rushed from the precinct before she could protest. LaCroix was waiting by the caddy, and this close the anger was rolling off him in waves. "LaCroix," Nick said, "What's wrong?" "Where does the Spaniard Vachon live," his sire growled. "What's he done," Nick asked, afraid Vachon was about to be staked. "He left the club almost an hour ago with Doctor Lambert. I believe she's going to ask him to bring her across." "What! Why," Nick exclaimed. "She came to me this evening and asked if there was any way she could walk away from the Community. Did you know her memory had returned Nicholas, she remembers our little spat on Valentines Day. In addition, she is well aware of Janette's return. She is looking for a way to escape you," his sire hissed in annoyance. "I never meant…," Nick stammered. LaCroix sighed, "You never do, mon fils. Now tell me where the Spaniard lives." "The old church," Nick said grimly, stalking into the shadows. "Follow me." He took to the sky with his sire close behind. They sat down outside the church and made their way stealthily toward the door. To their surprise, Vachon met them at the entrance. He held up his hands as they advanced on him. "I didn't touch her, I swear. She said she just needed to talk. I don't know what you did to her Knight, but it must have been pretty damn cruel," he said quietly. "She asked me to kill her and make sure the body was never found. She promised me that there was no one who would really miss her." LaCroix growled at the dazed look on his son's face. "This is what you do when you play your games with mortals. Do you really believe she deserves this Nicholas? This mortal woman who has given you six years of her short life, risked her professional reputation and the possibility of having the Enforcers visit her?" He stalked past the younger vampires and into the church. She was curled up on the Spaniards bed, and from the looks of things, she had cried herself to sleep. He picked her up gently, careful not to wake her and carried her back to the others. "Nicholas," he said very softly," come to the Raven before dawn. I will have her resignation for you to deliver. Arrange for someone to take care of her apartment." "Where are you taking her," Nick asked. "Away from you for now," LaCroix answered. "We will return here at some point to wrap up this incarnation. I'll be in touch," he added. With a nod to Vachon, he took to the sky with his burden cradled against his chest. Natalie woke slowly, moaning at the throbbing in her head. A cool hand brushed her brow, and she turned into the soothing touch. A quiet humming caught her attention and she frowned trying to identify it. It sounded like an airplane engine. She opened her eyes, thankful that the lights were low. She sat up with a gasp as she remembered the events of the evening. She broke out in a cold sweat as the sudden movement caused the pain in her head to intensify. "Easy Doctor," LaCroix said quietly. "I'm told you should have a nasty headache." "LaCroix," she exclaimed, "Where am I? And what's wrong with my head?" "Take these and I will explain," he said, handing her a glass of water and two pills. "What are they," she asked suspiciously. "Nothing more sinister than aspirin, Doctor," a slight smile curved his lips. "The headache is a side effect of the sedative you were given." The throbbing in her head was making it difficult to think, and she needed to be alert to deal with LaCroix. With a slight grimace, she took the offered pills and swallowed. She collapsed back onto the pillow with a sigh, and looked at him. He was sitting in a chair by the bed, a thick book on his lap and a glass of blood wine on the table. "I followed you to the Spaniard's lair," he began. "You were asleep, and I thought it best to keep you that way until we were out of the city. Nicholas is delivering your resignation just about now." "Where are we going, and do you often kidnap coroner's and spirit them away from their lives," she asked sarcastically. "No. Only when I need to keep them from making a foolish mistake in the heat of anger," he said. "I wish for you to give me one month. If your mind has not changed, I will ensure that your death is pleasurable." She blushed and refused to look at him as he continued. "We are on our way to a small island in the Caribbean. It doesn't really have a name, I never bothered." "You own an island," she asked incredulously. She didn't know why she was surprised. Nick was obscenely wealthy after eight hundred years, and LaCroix was twelve hundred years older. Hell of a lot of compounded interest, she thought. "Why, LaCroix?" "For several reasons, Natalie. Would you please call me Lucien? I know very well the debts the Community and I owe you. I have no desire to see your life cut short because of your association with us." he concluded. She sat up against the headboard. "Excuse me," she said emphatically. "Remember me; I was there that night at Azure. You were about a quarter inch from putting me out of my misery, permanently." "I had no intention of killing you that night," he told her calmly. "Though you came very close to joining my family, as my daughter, not my granddaughter. You underestimate your attractions, Natalie." "So does every man I've ever known," she muttered softly. "You have obviously been associating with the wrong men. You need someone who will admire your strength, not run from it," he told her. "What are you trying to accomplish, Lucien," she asked wearily. "Is this some sort of…hell, I don't even know what it is." "This is an opportunity for us to become better acquainted. You do not wish to spend eternity with a stranger. I guarantee Natalie," he leaned forward to cup her chin in his hand. "At the end of this trip we will no longer be strangers." He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. When he drew away, she looked at him in shock, her fingers pressed to her mouth. She had spent the last six years listening to Nick tell her what a monster his Master was. How could his touch affect her this way? She looked into the ice-blue eyes so close to her own. As they stared at each other, the very air seemed to become charged. Natalie felt a shiver of awareness run down her spine. He leaned forward again, and at that moment, the engine pitch changed as the plane began to descend. "Come," he said, holding out his hand. "We have a short trip by boat, but we should arrive well before dawn." She allowed him to help her from the bed, and she looked around for her shoes. He pointed under the edge of the bed, and she sat to pull them on. When she stood again, the room spun wildly around her and she swayed. He caught her easily, wrapping one strong arm around her waist. "It will take about twenty-four hours to get all of the sedative out of your system," he told her. He led her forward and buckled her into a seat, taking the one across the aisle. The drug still in her system combined with the droning engine had a soothing affect, and by the time the plane landed, she was asleep again. She had only the vaguest impression of being carried in a pair of strong arms. Curling into the soft material under her cheek, she allowed to rocking motion to carry her away. Natalie woke again when the late afternoon sun warmed her face. She opened her eyes slowly, looking around the room. It looked like a room out of one of the travel brochures for tropical hotels. The walls were a rich cream, and the king sized bed was draped with mosquito netting. The blanket that covered her was patterned in cream and rose, matching the throw rugs that dotted the wooden floor. She looked at her wrist, but her watch had disappeared. Throwing back the blanket, she cursed softly as she realized her clothes had disappeared also. A trip to the bathroom was her first priority, so she stood gingerly by the bed. No dizziness, she noted, and began to explore. A peek into the door beside the bed revealed an array of summer clothing, so she grabbed a light sundress to wear. The door on the left led to a hallway, but the one on the right opened onto a private bath. Making use of the facilities, she wandered out in search of lunch, breakfast, something. She opened the door to the hallway, noting that hers was the only room open to the sun. All of the other windows were covered with metal shutters like the ones Nick had at the loft. One level down and all the way to the left she found the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator she was greeted with the expected array of green bottles, and a welcome assortment of fruits and cold cuts. Rummaging around she managed to put together a meal of roast beef sandwiches and fresh fruit. She nearly wept for joy when one cabinet yielded a coffee maker and coffee. She had finished her meal and was enjoying a second cup when that tingle of awareness ran down her spine again. She turned to find LaCroix standing behind her, a strange expression on his face. "I sort of made myself at home, I hope you don't mind," she said slowly. "I would have been upset if you had done anything else," he told her, advancing into the room. He retrieved a bottle from the refrigerator and a glass before joining her at the table. "Have you been awake long? No more ill effects I hope." "About an hour, and no I feel fine," she assured him. "I would like to know what happened to my clothes, though." A hint of a smile curved his sensuous lips. "My housekeeper was happy to assist you," he said finally. "She comes in once a week to restock and clean. If she does her job properly, you will never see her." He chuckled at the glare she sent him. "Come, do you enjoy literature? I will read something for you if you like." He stood and led her through the house, stopping in what was obviously the library. "Pick something," he waved at the shelves as he seated himself. She wandered through the selection, surprised to find contemporary authors side by side with classics. Finding an old favorite, she took it down and offered it to him. He looked at the title and smiled. "Excellent choice, make yourself comfortable." She curled up in the chair across from his as he opened the book. "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times," he read the opening lines, his voice dropping into what she always thought of as his broadcast tones. He read for nearly three hours before they decided to finish the story on another night. After another trip to the kitchen to discover a freezer stocked with chocolate ice cream, he stood and offered her his hand. The rest of the night was spent walking along the moonlit beach, discussing everything from politics to poetry. As dawn began to creep over the horizon, they arrived back at the house. He walked her to the door of her room, still holding her hand. As she started to say good morning, he leaned forward to kiss her as he had on the plane. A soft brushing of those cool lips against hers, and with a, "Sleep well," he was gone. That night set the agenda for the nights to follow, as they worked their way through A Tale of Two Cities, and began David Copperfield. Some nights after their reading had concluded, LaCroix would open the entertainment system and they would listen to whatever music suited their mood. Natalie slowly began to make peace with the pain and betrayal she had felt before they left Toronto. Walking down the beach with LaCroix, arguing amicably over some point of logic or philosophy, Toronto seemed a lifetime away. The only subject they mutually avoided was Nick, and his disintegrating relationship with her. He told her stories that made her laugh, of the famous people he had met. She gradually came to realize, that like everything else, Nick had embellished the stories of his master to suit his own ends. This was a completely different man from the one he had described to her, or could it be her presence that made the difference, she wondered. It had been nearly a month since they arrived, when Natalie changed their normal routine. After bringing LaCroix the copy of Watchers they were reading, she dropped a pillow in the floor by his seat. She knelt down and leaned against him, her back resting against his knees. Before he began reading, he ran a large hand through her curls. That night when he walked her back to her room, the kiss he gave her was not the affectionate caress of the past month. He traced the line of her lips, asking and receiving permission to enter. His tongue swept in to tease and taste, inviting her to return the favor. She traced the line of his teeth, hesitating only slightly as his fangs dropped. Curling her tongue, she traced the length of each one as he growled his pleasure. By the time he broke away, she was trembling and his eyes were flecked with gold. "We will speak of this tomorrow," he said hoarsely. "Sleep well, Natalie." She watched as he walked down the hall to the stairs, making his way to his room. She closed her door and prepared for bed, her mind racing as she considered what had happened. She knew very well how this trip was going to end, and she wondered at the patience he had exhibited so far. When the sun dropped below the horizon, she had slept only two or three hours. She showered and dressed carefully, knowing that tonight she would make her decision. She was standing in the kitchen, looking out at the beach with a cup of coffee in her hand when he arrived. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping a kiss on her hair. "Shall we finish our book, and then talk, Petite," he asked. "Yes please, Lucien," she answered. As they walked to the library, she noticed he carried two bottles instead of one, but she didn't mention it. She curled up again at his feet as he read the final chapters. The monster was destroyed, the wonderful dog was saved, and even the overworked and underpaid government worker found a happy ending. He closed the book and laid it aside, lifting her easily into his lap. "Your choices are still much the same as they were when we left Toronto," he said evenly. "I know now that even I cannot take your memories, so you must decide. If you chose death, I promise you it will be painless, and I will carry a portion of you for eternity. Or you could see eternity for yourself, at my side." She thought of the questions that had run through her mind, as she lay awake. "Will I have to kill?" He sighed. "No, not unless it is to protect yourself. These days such things are not encouraged in the Community, for obvious reasons. Though for your own protection I will teach you the skills involved." "What about Nick? Tell me this isn't part of this feud you two have been locked in for eight hundred years," she said. He chuckled. "No, I'm not laughing at you," he told her. "I just think that the fates are strange. I have loved two women in two thousand years, and Nicholas has led me to both of them. One I left behind because he convinced me that to bring her into the darkness would change her into something I would no longer recognize. I finally know now that he was right. Fleur was too innocent; too protected to have dealt with the death and violence that was our life at that time." He tilted her face to look directly into her eyes. "No matter what your decision, his debt is forgiven. But you Petite, you have seen us at our best and our worst, and still you extend your hand when it is needed. You have the courage and the strength to withstand whatever comes your way. So what will it be? Will you walk with me into the night, or force me to wait another millennium for Nicholas to discover a third woman with the passion and fire to warm this cold heart?" He brushed gently at the crystal teardrops that flowed from her eyes. "I chose you," she whispered. "No one in my life has ever made me feel so beautiful, so strong, or so loved. I want to walk with you in the night." He stood effortlessly with her in his arms, and for the first time she entered his room. Candles stood on every surface, just waiting to be lit. He allowed her to slide across his body as he stood her beside the huge bed. As he wandered around the room, the flickering light bathed the room in a golden glow. When he turned back toward the bed, he found she had dropped her clothing on the floor and stood naked to his gaze. "You are exquisite," he breathed, pulling the silk shirt over his shoulders. He finished undressing and came to her as naked as she, hungry to feel the touch of her skin against him. He groaned as he took her in his arms, her warmth a shocking contrast to his cool temperature. He took her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside to savor her sweetness as he held her close to him. He left her mouth only to trace light kisses over her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. He nibbled lightly over her artery, growling as she gasped with pleasure. Cupping her full breasts in his hands, he drew them together so that he could torture both nipples at once. She cried out and arched against him, feeling his touch spark a wildfire of desire in her. He lifted her onto the bed, shifting to lie between her parted thighs. His kisses traveled over her abdomen, stopping to pay homage at her navel. He slid his hands underneath her, lifting her hips and opening her for his attentions. At the first light touch of his tongue on her clit, she nearly came apart. He licked and suckled, teasing her entrance with one long finger until her juices flowed over his hand. Only then did he thrust it inside her, sucking fiercely at the nub of her pleasure. She screamed his name as her body convulsed around him, shuddering with the force of her release. Before the aftershocks had completely died away, he had positioned himself at her entrance. She inhaled as the huge head slid inside her, and he paused to allow her to adjust to his size. "It has been a long time for you, Petite. I will not hurt you," he said, his voice even deeper with the vampire's emergence. He pulled away to lubricate his length in the moisture that flowed from her core. He returned to tease her with short gliding strokes, sliding just a little deeper with each one. By the time he was fully seated she was thrashing wildly beneath him, hovering on the edge of another orgasm. He pulled back and thrust into her hard and quick for several strokes, until he felt her body pulsate around him. Her nails raked bloody furrows down his back as she wept with pleasure. He shuddered as the vampire emerged, lusting for her blood as he possessed her body. He could feel his control slipping away as he pounded into her tight sheath in search of his own release. His hand slipped between their bodies as he stroked her, forcing her to spiral upwards once again. As her internal muscles tightened around his straining cock, she threw her head back to give him access to her throat. His fangs pierced her delicate skin as they fell over the edge together. With the first taste of her passion-laced blood, he came, bathing her cervix with his cool seed. The man's body shook as the vampire trilled in ecstasy of the sweetest blood it had ever tasted. It suckled greedily at her throat, wanting all of the nectar that flowed in her veins. LaCroix fought for control, fought for the opportunity to have her join him. Finally, he forced his fangs from her throat, licking away the last precious drops of her mortal blood. Ripping open the vein in his wrist, he placed the bleeding wound to her lips. "Natalie, turn away from the light," he rasped, his voice still thick with passion. "Do not leave me alone in the darkness, drink and return to me." He waited for what seemed like forever before he felt the flutter of her lips as she swallowed. She grabbed onto his arm and suckled, whimpering when his blood refused to flow fast enough. He reached up and sliced the vein in his neck, shifting her before she could protest. She locked onto this new source, biting as her fangs descended. His whole body tensed as he felt the searing pleasure of her penetration. Driven by instinct and unable to resist the urge, he sank his fangs into her carotid artery. He was never sure afterwards, how long they lay there locked together. All he knew was that he could not resist the siren call of her as the blood exchange bound them closer, fusing two into one. When they finally released each other, there was not a single drop of blood in either of them that had not been shared. As they both fell into an exhausted sleep, he could feel her wrapped around him like his skin, a warm soothing presence that he knew would be with him forever. **Finis** Love it? Hate it? Want more? thymespan2001@yahoo.com