WARNING!!!This story contains explicit language and sex, non explicit scenes
concerning child abuse, and child prostitution. Discretion is advised.

My many thanks to my betas, Julesy, Lorelei and Heather-Anne! Thanks for all
your help and suggestions guys!

Usual disclaimer: Forever Knight, and the characters attributed to it, are
not mine and I have no intention of reaping any profit from there use.



The Misbegotten
By Knightraven
Copyright 2000


"No, please...Simon, please...I don't want to go in there!" The child
cried out and struggled against the iron grip brutally holding his arm. He
winced as it was yanked hard, threatening to be separated from his body.
"Don't bother begging, boy. I've had enough of your trouble, and so's your
mother. You're history, kid."
The man dragged the frightened boy into the club, ignoring the shout from
the bouncer at the door.

Lacroix stepped from his sound booth and entered the bar area to help
himself to a glass of his private stock.
His attention was quickly drawn to the front door and the crowd rapidly
parting before him.
A stout man, badly dressed and unshaven, came barrelling toward him,
dragging behind him a young child and trailing a rather angry vampire.
Lacroix stepped from behind the bar to halt the man's progress. He waved off
the bouncer with an almost impercevible motion of his hand. The young
vampire nodded and returned to his post at the door.
Before he could inquire as to the mortal's intentions the man halted
abruptly and yanked the boy to his side, yet still keeping him at arm's
length as though he could not stand to touch the child any more than was
necessary.

Smoke and noise engulfed Alex's senses as he continually tried to break
free from his mother's lover. He felt a strange and disconcerting chill
descend down his spine as he entered the club; the loud music thumped
painfully against his eardrums as he was shoved by the dancers he was being
unceremoniously dragged through.
Trying to gain his bearings, he looked forward and saw a tall, foreboding
man coming around the bar to intercept them. He was surprised when Simon
stopped and spoke to him.

"You Lacroix?" the man demanded. Lacroix merely raised an eyebrow and 
asked, "And you are?" The man ignored his question and instead practically 
threw the child toward him.
"He's your brat. You take him! We've had enough! He's all yours!" The man
then turned and stormed from the room in the same manner he had arrived.
Lacroix huffed his amusement and lowered his gaze down to the boy who was
straightening his clothes. Well, and here he was thinking tonight was bound
to be as tedious as the last.
The boy glanced toward him and spoke.
"Sorry. He gets like that sometimes." He then turned and began to walk 
away. Lacroix watched him leave. He frowned. How had this man been aware 
of his name? Of course, it was quite impossible the child was his.
He watched the boy vanish through the front door out into the night before
turning back to the bar to take his glass in hand once again.
Shaking his head at the madness of mortals, he returned to his work.

Alexander felt a physical relief when the door closed behind him. Outside
the club the streets were quiet. Few people were about, and there was no
sign of his stepfather. Good. He didn't want to see him anyway. He was glad
to be rid of them both. His mother was a junkie, and though she had tried to
hide it in the beginning, she had began to shoot up in front of him now. She
would do anything for a fix, and Simon provided plenty of them for her. He
had stopped liking his mother years ago. He loved her, she was his mom, but
even at his age he knew she was no good for him.
Digging his hand into his pocket, he pulled out what little money he had
been able to hide from his mother and her boyfriend.
Six bucks fifty. Not a lot, but enough to get him something to eat. Shoving
the money back into his pocket, he pulled up the zipper of his jacket. He
blew the light brown curls from his eyes as he glanced about him, then began
to walk in the direction of the inner city.

Nick pushed open the morgue doors and poked his head in. Natalie was 
up to her elbows in blood as she reached into their latest case. She was looking
for a bullet.
"Find anything?" he asked her hopefully. She grunted and slid her leg down
off the table where she had propped herself up in order to get a better reach.
"Not yet," she told him.
Nick couldn't help but notice the smell of the blood on her, which was why
he had gone no farther into the room.
"How long?" he asked.
"How long is a piece of string?" she replied haughtily. She sighed and
brushed a strand of hair from her face. With her elbow. "Sorry. I'm just
tired," she apologised.
"It's okay." Nick waited for a minute before saying,
"Um, Tracy and I'll go back to the precinct."
"Okay. I'll bring the report over the second I'm done."
"Thanks, Nat," he said before ducking out of the room and heading back to
the caddy, where his partner was waiting.

Alexander sat at a table in a local McDonalds, eating a burger. He counted
his money. A dollar twenty. Not going to go very far. It was late, almost
one in the morning. He had nowhere to go, so he stayed in the restaurant for
a couple of hours.
They had thrown him out when he didn't buy anything else; apparently he was
loitering. He walked the streets, passing by the hookers and drug dealers, a
few trying to proposition him. He just shook his head and kept moving. He
had been on the streets before; he spent most of his time either with his
friends or wandering around. But he was a long way from his home in
Montreal. It was a little different here, more like what he thought the
States to be like. It was rougher than what he was used to. But he had been
around, known people who had been in the US and picked up a thing or two,
and he had paid attention. He perked up when a bunch of men in suits
staggered toward him. They were drunk...very drunk. Alexander smiled. He
made an intercept course with the men, and upon reaching them, he bumped
against several as he walked past. Coming through the other side, the smile
returned to his face. Clutched in his hand was a bulging leather wallet.

Natalie, as promised, had delivered the report on Ben Masters. She had found
the bullet which had killed him under his left clavicle. Nick sighed as he
closed the folder.
Their relationship was at an all-time low. They hardly ever saw each other
outside of work anymore, and the fact that Janette had reappeared hadn't
helped. Janette had left the Raven to Lacroix and had instead set herself up
a designer workshop and store. He found himself spending an increasing
amount of time with her. They shared blood, and more, on a frequent basis
now. Natalie had been angry as hell when she found out, thanks to his sire.
But he guessed it had been for the best; he had no right to string her
along. He didn't love her, not as he once did, and not as he did Janette,
but she was still his friend--a good friend, but that was all.
"Come on, Trace. Let's go home." He threw his file onto the desk as he rose
and pulled on his coat. Dawn was approaching.

Standing in an abandoned doorway, Alex went through the contents of the
wallet. It had about thirty dollars cash, a couple of credit cards and a
driver's licence. He stashed the cash into the side of his shoe and shoved
the cards into his pocket before dropping the now empty wallet to the
ground. He couldn't use the cards. He was too young to get away with it, but
he could sell them on to someone.
He sank to sit on the concrete step and pulled his jacket closer around
him. He was tired, but he couldn't afford to sleep for long. It wasn't safe
to leave yourself unguarded, especially at night.

Night arrived once again. Nick and Tracy had pulled in a suspect for the
Masters shooting. He had confessed after an hour in the interrogation room.
The paperwork had been completed, so they had hit the streets. Nick cruised
along, listening to his partner chat on about Alice in vice and how she and
Ned Kirk from homicide were now a serious item.
He was only half listening as he drove, watching the streets and its
inhabitants as they passed by. They were passing through the red-light
district--all was as it was every night. The girls stood on the curb-side or
wrapped around a lamppost or doorway. There were a few boys out tonight, but
no less than usual. Nick felt sorry for these kids. They sold themselves in
exchange for a good meal and a few extra bucks. It was how they survived. It
wasn't a new phenomenon by any means; he had seen worse through the years.
But this was a time when they shouldn't have to be doing this type of thing.
He had become friendly with a few of the kids around here; he would often
give them cash to send them to whatever hole they called home for the night.
They would often be his eyes and ears on the street, and very useful ones at
that.

Alex had spent the past couple of days stealing and sleeping under the
freeway during the day. It was safer than at night. He would shoplift food,
and he even sneaked into a movie one afternoon. He hadn't had much trouble,
though once he had been chased off from a gang territory, and once some
baglady went psycho at him, thinking he was going to rip off her stuff. He
still had nowhere to go, and any money he had was becoming scarce. He would
watch the kids on Spadina. They were hookers. He wasn't really into that
scene, though he had known a couple of kids in Montreal who had been. They
earned good money, sometimes finding a nice place to sleep for a couple of
nights at a time. He knew one guy who made a hundred bucks just for sucking
off some guy he didn't know in a parking lot. The closest he had come to
becoming a prostitute was when one night his mom brought home some guy and
he had tried to give him money to get him into bed with them. Simon had come
home and beat the shit out of them all.
He had priority.

Alex stood against a doorway, watching the activity about him.
"You can't be here, shithead," a voice said from behind him. Alex turned to
face a kid a little older than himself. He was, blonde, sporting tight
T-shirt and jeans. They were about the same height, but Alex reckoned he
could take him if he had to.
"Why the fuck not?" he said, pushing off his seat. The boy just sneered.
"Cause this here's my perch, man. Go find yourself somewhere else." Alex
shook his head and huffed.
"Don't worry. I ain't working," he told the boy. The blonde seemed to relax,
and Alex sat down on the top step as the boy took up position against the
doorway. He lifted his T-shirt under his arms where he tucked his hands,
baring his flat stomach. He was now open for business.
Alex turned away from the boy and watched the street again.
About an hour later a car stopped beside them. The blonde kid stepped up to
meet it. He smiled and leaned against the door, talking to the guy inside.
The blonde turned back to him and said,
"Hey, you wanna trick? He wants two."
Alex froze for a moment. Should he? He needed the money. But he sure wasn't
about to have some guy fuck him for it.
"Um...nah. I think I'll pass for now." The blonde kid just shrugged and
climbed into the car. They would find someone else.
Alex felt himself sweat a little--he hadn't been ready for that. But now,
much to his own disgust, he was thinking about it.
A couple of hours later, the car returned and dropped the boy off at the
corner. He walked back to his perch and took up his stance once again. After
a few minutes, the boy spoke.
"You shoulda come. He was alright, wasn't very rough, an' paid good. Don't
get that lucky all the time."
"Yeah." Alex knew some guys could be pretty rough. "May...maybe next time,"
he stuttered.
"You a newbie, ain't ya," the boy stated.
"Kinda," Alex replied.
"Wha'diya mean, kinda?" the boy laughed.
"Nobody's ever paid me, that's all." Alex glanced away as the boy fell
silent.
"Yeah, I know how it is," he said softly after a moment. "I'm Matt," he told
Alex.
"Alex." They shook hands, and Matt sat down beside him.
"So you got protection?" the boy asked. Alex just looked at him, not
understanding. The boy sighed.
"You know...rubbers."
"Oh." Alex realised he was talking about condoms. "No."
"You gotta have 'em. Don't ever let anyone do ya without one, okay?" he told
him adamantly.
"Yeah, okay."
"Here, take a couple of these, but you gotta get your own next time." Matt
handed him a couple of condoms. Alex took them and shoved them into his back
pocket.
"Thanks, man."
"You hungry?" the boy asked him.
"Yeah, starving."
"Come on then. Dinner's on me." Alex and Matt smiled, and they took off in
the direction of the closest McDonalds.

As they cruised past a local fastfood outlet, Nick saw one of his contacts
inside. He stopped and honked his horn. Tracy stopped talking and leaned
forward to see what he was doing.
"It's Matt," he told her.
"He look okay?" She was always worried about these kids. Too often they
ended up as extra unpleasant work for them.
"Yeah, he's coming over."

Matt and Alex sat down and mowed into a couple of burgers.
"Thanks, man," Alex said around his mouthful of meat.
"No problem. You can buy next time." Before Alex could answer, a car honked
closed by and Matt looked up and smiled. He leapt from his chair and ran
outside.
"Come on, I'll introduce ya!"

Matt came running up to his window, tagging a new friend along behind him.
"Hey, Matt. How ya keeping?" Nick asked him with a smile. The boy beamed.
"I'm cool, Nick. Hey, Tracy!" He waved into the car.
"Hi, Matty."
Nick glanced behind Matt to the darker boy beyond.
"Who's your friend?"
"Yeah. This is Alex." Matt pulled Alex forward. "He's kinda new, so I'm
lookin' out for him."
"That's good, Matt." He then looked directly at Alex. There was something
odd about the boy, something a little...off. He couldn't quite place it, so
he put it aside for later thought.
"Hi, Alex."
"Um, hi," Alex replied nervously.
Matt introduced them.
"This here's Nick and Tracy. They're cops, but they're okay. They watch out
for us."
Nick saw the boy's eyes widen a little, but he kept silent.
"You boys keep safe, you hear?" Nick told them, pulling out a couple of ten
dollar notes and handing them over. Matt gave one to Alex.
"Thanks, Nick."
"Anytime, kiddo. You call the precinct if you need anything." Nick handed
Alex a card.
"Okay."
"See you around, Alex," Nick said with a small smile.
"Um, yeah, and thanks," he said, indicating he cash.
"No problem. You just keep out of trouble," Nick said, his smile widening.
Alex found himself smiling back.
"Sure."
"Good. See you, boys," Nick said in farewell, and Tracy waved goodbye as the
caddie pulled away.

"I swear they're getting younger every day, Nick," Tracy said as they drove
on down the street.
"Yeah, I know." He knew Matt was twelve, almost thirteen. He'd been in
numerous foster homes and care facilities. Finally he had had enough and
took off on his own. It was the same old story no matter who he spoke to; it
just varied in degrees of severity.
Sighing, he headed back to the precinct to book off.

"Does he always give you money?" Alex asked as they both retook their seats
to finish their burgers.
"Yeah. Nick's pretty cool. They almost the only cops which give a toss
whether we get fucked up or not."
"Is he a fag?" Every had an angle. This cop probably had one, too.
"Nah, don't think so."
Alex just nodded and ate.

End part 1

------------------------------------------------------------------------



Part 2

Natalie needed a drink. The Raven was open for another couple of hours, so
she decided to grace it with her presence.
The moment she walked in the door, she realised she may have made a mistake
in coming here. It was noisy, and though not packed, was still crowded.
Shrugging to herself, she took a seat at the bar. What the hell--it was probably 
just what she needed. She motioned for a gin and tonic, and after a few sips, she 
began to relax into the escapist atmosphere of the patrons around her.

Lacroix looked out over the club from the seclusion of his sound booth. He
had witnessed her arrival and watched as she took a place at the bar. He
smirked as she all but gulped her first two drinks and was now well into her
third. He called the bar and told Miklos to put her tab on the house.
He continued to be attracted to the spectacle as a handsome mortal man came
alongside the good doctor. She smiled as the young man spoke. She then took
his hand as she rose and they made their way onto the dance floor.
Lacroix raised an eyebrow at the possessive pang which shuddered through
him. Hmm, interesting. But then should he be so surprised at his reaction?
His reasons for telling her about his son's return to Janette had little to
do with making Nicholas' life a misery. He just thought it was about time he
stopped leading the woman on. The community owed her for their survival; she
deserved at least the right to know her valiant knight was anything but.
Sighing, he watched her dance as he queued up CDs to play for his show. An
hour later, he could clearly see she was quite intoxicated. Rising, he left
the booth and made his way to the bar where she was seated, talking with a
number of men, all of whom were hoping it was their lucky night. It was not.
The men quickly moved away as Lacroix came up behind her.
"Doctor," he said with a small smile. "You appear to be having an agreeable
evening."

Natalie turned in her seat to find the imposing figure of Nick's sire close
behind her. Being in the state she was, she gave him a friendly smile.
"Lacroix! Yes, I am, thank you!" He leaned against the bar. "You know, " she
began, slapping a hand against his chest, "I wanted to thank you for telling
me about that son of yours."
"It is quite unnecessary, I assure you," he told her quietly.
"No, no, I insist! You saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life!
So, thank you." She slurred slightly as she spoke, adamantly reinforcing her
words with slaps to his chest. He sighed again. He couldn't send her on her
way in this condition.
"Come along, doctor. I think we should get you a cup of coffee." He guided
her off the barstool. If it weren't for his hold around her waist, she would
have ended up on the floor. He took her behind the bar and guided her up the
stairs and into his apartment above.


Alex stood a little distance away from his new friend, Matt, and leant up
against a nearby lamppost. He took a deep, calming breath, and shuddered a
little as he tucked his T-shirt up under his arms, baring his flat midriff.


Lacroix had a small problem. He had nowhere to put the good doctor to bed.
She had fallen asleep on his divan--well, perhaps unconscious was more
accurate. He supposed he could just leave her there, but his gentlemanly
etiquette was warring with him about taking such action. This wouldn't be a
problem if his guest room weren't in use. Sighing, he lifted her into his
arms and took her into his own bedroom. He put her down on his large bed and
reached down to take off her shoes. After a moment of thought, he stepped
back from her prone form and abruptly left the room to call for one of his
waitresses. He wanted no room for argument come tomorrow.


A blue sedan pulled up alongside Alex, and for a moment, he froze. Oh god.
But even though his mind wasn't fully aware, he found himself leaning
against the car as the window electronically lowered.
"You working?" the man asked him gruffly.
"Um, yeah," Alex replied, uneasily.
"Get in."
Alex took a breath. Here goes nothing. He opened the car door and slid into
the front passenger seat. Glancing up at the man driving, he gave him a
small, nervous smile. The man just looked back to the road and took off. The
man was tall, dark--haired, and looked like he hadn't shaved for a couple of
days. Alex was getting a bad feeling from this guy. He didn't want to be
here. Not with him.
The man drove them to a quiet alleyway, a known place for business to be
received. The man cut the engine and turned to Alex.
"Get to work, boy." He shifted in his seat so that his groin was more
accessible. Alex just stared at it. No.
"Um, mister, I changed my mind. I ain't working tonight," he said bravely.
"Yes, you are, boy...whether you want to or not, you are going to suck me
off, or I'll not only kick your puny butt, I'll also fuck it. Do you understand?" The 
man was leaning forward and snarling in his face.
Alex froze. This was not good. He lunged for the door-handle, but when he
pulled, it wouldn't open. Shit!
"No, no. You are not leaving until I say you can."
"Let me out!" Alex demanded. Much to his horror, the man seemed to be
getting more turned on by his struggles to free himself. The man grabbed the
back of his head and began forcing it to his crotch.
"NO!" Alex screamed and pulled from the man's grip, shifting himself so his
legs were pushing against the man. The man just swung a fist at his head.
Alex avoided the first swipe, but not the next. He saw stars as pain shot
through his eye socket and down his jaw. The man hit him a couple more times
around the arms and upper body. Alex had his arms around his head, trying to
protect himself. Another blow missed his head and hit the car window.
"AHH, FUCK!!" The man cried out as the sound of breaking glass attracted
Alex's attention.
The man cradled his damaged hand and continued to swear loudly.
"You little shit, look what you did! I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Alex took
that as his cue and lunged for the broken window. He felt glass cutting
through his jeans as he slid through his only route to freedom. It didn't
matter--he had to get away. The second his palms hit the pavement, he kicked
his legs free of the hands trying to grab him and rolled over, then up onto
his feet. He ran.
Run. Run fast! Run now! That was all he could think for the next several
minutes. He was two blocks away by the time he slowed and stopped. Panting
hard, he dropped his hands to his knees and sucked in what air he could.
When he looked up, he caught sight of himself in a store front window. He
was covered in blood. He looked down at the worst of it. His jeans were torn
in several places and he had numerous cuts, but he had a bad one on his left
thigh and he could feel the blood running down his leg.
He began to feel funny. Alex sat down on the curb-side as he felt himself
become a little dizzy. He didn't know what to do. He needed help. Going
through his pockets, he pulled out the card that cop had given him. It was
all he had.
Alex looked up and searched for a phone booth. There was one across the
street. Pushing himself to his feet, he staggered across the road and into
the phone booth. With a shaky, bloodied hand, he dialled the number on the
card.
"Knight, 96th" a voice answered almost instantly.
"Nick?" For some reason, he didn't know why, Alex felt tears running down
his face as he heard the man on the other end of the line.
"Yes? Who's this?" the man asked gently.
"It's Alex. We met the other night. I was with Matt."
"Yes, I remember. How are you, Alex."
"Um, I...I'm not doing so good...I...I think I need some help," he
stammered, anxiously looking around him for any sign of his client.
"Okay, Alex. I'll be right there. Where are you?" Nick asked him calmly.
Alex looked to the store fronts nearby.
"I don't know...There's a shop called Kippler Books across the road."
"It's okay, Alex. I'll find you. I'm on my way, okay?"
"Okay," the boy sobbed.

Nick could hear the child crying on the other end of the line. He didn't
sound good. He dropped the phone and yelled over to the main desk.
"I need a code 1 trace on my last call, Norma!!" he said, pulling on his
coat and slipping his gun into his holster. He strode over to the desk where
the woman was quickly typing and instigating a search for the location of
the last call to Nick's phoneline.
"Phone booth on Yonge. Near University Rd!" she told him. Nick was out the
door before she had even finished speaking.
Tracy was outside, just entering the building, when Nick came barrelling
out.
"Nick?"
"Quick, get in the car. I just got a call from Alex, that kid we met a
couple of nights ago. He needs help." Tracy ran for the caddy, close on his
heels. Tires squealed as they pulled away from the curb and headed, with
sirens wailing, to the vicinity of the stricken child.

Nick slowed down as they entered Yonge St. They were fairly close to where
they had been instructed to go.
"There!" Nick pointed down and across the street to a phone booth and the
crumpled lump lying at the bottom.
He pulled the car up and was leaping out before Tracy even had her seatbelt
off.
He could smell the blood, and it caused him to hesitate for a moment before
he rushed to the child's side.
"Alex?" The boy was lying on his side, his jeans and face covered in blood.
The child stirred at the sound of his voice. "Alex?" Nick carefully rolled
the boy onto his back, and his eyes fluttered open.
"Nick?"
"Yeah. It's me. What happened?" Nick asked as he began to inspect his
injuries.
"I didn't want to go with this guy, and so he thumped me. I got out through
the car window. I think it cut me."
"Yeah, kid. You need to see a doctor." Alex just nodded and closed his eyes
again.
Nick turned to Tracy.
"Trace, could you..."
"Already called it in. Ambulance is on its way," she cut him off. Nick
nodded.
"You still with us, Alex?" Tracy asked him as she joined Nick at his side.
The boy nodded, and Nick lifted him enough to hold him in his lap. He took
off his coat and wrapped it around the boy, now showing signs of shock. It
took only a few minutes for Nick to hear, then see, the flashing red lights
of the paramedics coming toward them.
"Alex, what can you tell us about this guy? Do you remember what sort of car
this guy was driving?" Nick asked him as they waited.
"Yeah. The guy was tall. He had dark hair, short. He wore a suit, a dark
blue suit. His car was blue, too, almost looked black. A Lexus, I think. It was
a big car."
"Okay, that's good, Alex, real good," Tracy told him as she jotted what he
said down in her notebook.
The ambulance arrived and Nick put Alex down on the ground as the paramedics
took over.
"Okay. It's not too bad. He'll need a few sutures in his leg, and we should
x-ray his jaw," one of the medics told Nick, hovering nearby. Nick handed
over his keys to Tracy, who took them as though they were made of gold.
"I'll ride with him, if you could follow behind in the caddy..."
"You're going to let me drive the caddy?" she asked him, not believing a
word she was hearing.
"Yes, Trace. You may drive the caddy...very carefully," he added with a
'dent it you die' rise of his eyebrows.
"Wow." Tracy smiled as Nick climbed into the ambulance and she skipped over
to the caddy and opened the driver's side door.

Alma had changed Natalie into one of Janette's night-gowns and tucked her
into his bed. He stood, with his arms crossed, at the foot of the bed,
staring at her. She really was quite beautiful. If only she wasn't quite so
annoying...
He sighed again. He had no desire whatsoever to spend the day sleeping on
the couch. Turning and leaving her, he went back down into the bar, which
was by now winding down, getting ready for closing.
When dawn finally broke, he locked the club and warily returned to his room.
He was not sleeping on the couch. He declared mentally. Changing into his
pyjamas, he hesitated slightly before sliding into the far side of his bed.
After a last glance at his sleeping companion, he shook his head and rolled
to face away from her. It had been a long night, and he needed to sleep.

Nick stood next to the gurney the boy was lying on, as they waited for the
doctor to finish his examination.
"Well, it doesn't look too bad. I'll just stitch up that leg and tidy up
some of those bumps and bruises and you can go home." The young doctor
smiled at Alex, who valiantly tried to smile back, but it just wasn't in
him. He was feeling much better now, and he just wanted to get out of here.
Nick had stayed with him, asking him questions about the guy who attacked
him. He hadn't said anything about why he was with him in the first place,
and he didn't want him to either.
"I've arranged for you to have a bed at the Dover home, for now," Nick told
the boy.
"What?!" Alex couldn't believe it. He was not going to some home!
"Uh-uh. I ain't goin' there," he told Nick, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Alex, I had to call them. It's my job. And it will be a hell of a lot safer
than sleeping on the street. I know that's where you are now, so don't
bother lying to me." Nick looked the glaring boy in the eye.
Alex just looked away. "Fine."
"It will be better, you'll see." Nick brushed the hair from the boy's eyes.

End part 2

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 3

Natalie woke. She opened her eyes and almost screamed at the sight before
her. The sleeping face of Lucien Lacroix threatened to send her heart
leaping out of her chest. Recovering slightly, she moved carefully away,
trying not to wake him. He was on his stomach, arms clutched around his
pillow. Staring at him, she couldn't help but noticing how benign he
appeared as he slept.
An increasingly persistent pressure on her bladder eventually forced her
from the bed. Tiptoeing quickly into the ensuite bathroom, she closed the
door and gratefully relieved herself, after which she began hunting through
the cupboards with the odd hope that he might have some aspirin hidden
somewhere. She had drunk too much last night, and she was now paying the
price.
"Bottom left drawer," his voice came softly through the door.
Oh wonderful--he was awake. She was hoping she could sneak out before he
roused, but apparently she wasn't going to be so lucky.
Natalie opened the last drawer, and way in the back was a full, unopened
packet of paracetamol. Taking a couple out, she swigged them down with a
glass of water, then reluctantly opened the bathroom door and poked her head
out.
He was still in bed, his eyes closed. She looked about for her clothes. She
couldn't see them anywhere. Still in the bathroom, she spoke quietly.
"Um, Lacroix, where are my clothes?"
He drew in a deep breath, and like a giant cat, he stretched out across the
bed, then opened his eyes to look at her. He smiled. Natalie didn't like
that smile, not one bit.
"Lacroix? My clothes?" she asked, her apparent annoyance edging into her
voice. Lacroix smiled again and looked around the room. He gestured toward
his wardrobe.
"In there."
Natalie pulled back her shoulders and strode to the beautiful piece of
furniture, the white, elegant night-gown billowing seductively about her,
and opened the doors. There they were, carefully hung and crease free.
Retrieving them, something suddenly dawned on her.
"Lacroix," she said dangerously, "how did I get out of my clothes?"
An arrogantly smug smile caressed his face once again.
"You didn't...?" she gasped. How dare he undress her!
He saw the fire flare into her eyes, and quickly raised a hand to stop her
next words.
"Now, now, doctor, my intentions have been completely honourable. Alma
helped you into your night-clothes this morning."
"But you still felt the need to sleep in the same bed?" she asked him
snidely.
"I was not about to allow a drunken mortal throw me out of my own bed," he
growled, lounging back on his elbow.
This is his room? Natalie took a quick glance around. It was actually rather
nice: masculine, stylish, a warm blend of old and new. Not quite what she
had thought Lacroix's boudoir to be like...Where were the chains and gothic
candlesticks she had envisioned?
"Oh...well...um...Excuse me while I change, and I can be on my way," she
mumbled, then quickly disappeared into the bathroom to pull on her clothes.
As she changed, she thought about what had happened last night; she couldn't
really remember much. She had danced, and she had obviously drank far too
much.
Sighing, she realised she owed Lacroix an apology, and gratitude for not
throwing her out on the street at closing time, nor taking advantage of her
as she slept.
Fully dressed, she returned to the bedroom. He had risen and pulled on a
brocade robe and slippers and was sipping from a glass of bloodwine, waiting
for her to reemerge.
"I suppose I should thank you for your hospitality," she told him
contritely. "I appreciate not waking up in my car." She gave him a small,
conceding smile. He had come through for her last night, not quite the
behaviour she had expected from him.
"Yes, well, Nicholas would have made quite a fuss had I not kept an eye on
you."
"Well, thank you anyway." Lacroix inclined his head in acceptance.
Natalie headed for the door, and he followed her down into the club area,
which by now was rapidly filling with vampires.
"Doctor." He stopped her, and she turned to face him. He slipped an arm
around her waist and pulled her up against his firm body.
"I have a certain...reputation to uphold," he whispered in her ear. Natalie
refrained from pushing him away. She mentally sighed, and then she smiled
malevolently.
Once they had moved within visibility of a few staff, Natalie reached her
arms around his neck and pulled his head down to meet her lips. She kissed
him. Holding little back, she forced her tongue into his mouth. She felt him
tense at her forthrightness; she had surprised him, but he quickly relaxed
and melted into the passionate joining, until, reluctantly, he pulled away.
"Good night, Natalie," he said roughly, smiling. Returning it, Natalie
whispered, her tone deep and inviting,
"Goodnight, Lucien." He raised his eyebrow at the familiarity, but then
huffed a chuckle as he watched her turn from him, her fingers trailing down
his jaw and neck, then down and across his chest, before confidently
leaving, staring after her with a small, amused smile pulling at his lips. A
pity she was so annoying...


Nick walked into his loft, throwing his keys and jacket at the kitchen
divider and heading straight for the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of
bloodwine, he poured himself a glass and swigged it down. He closed his eyes
and savoured the taste of the human blood. It had been donated, of course;
he would have it no other way. He and Natalie had had a long discussion on
his feeding habits. She had basically told him to switch back to
human...before he got himself killed. The blood restriction wasn't working,
and he had been constantly on edge while starving himself on the cow's
blood. Filling his glass again, he wandered over to the couch and sat down,
flicking on the TV with the remote control, as he also lowered the blinds.
He wasn't paying any attention to the flickering screen; instead, he was
recalling the odd sensation he was experiencing whenever he was in Alex's
presence. It was hard to explain, but he was sure he had never felt it
before. Perhaps the child had some sort of latent psychic ability and he was
picking up on it. Now that he had encountered more than once.
He had seen the boy safely to the Dover Interim Care Facility, before
heading home. Alex had made it more than clear that he didn't want to be
there, but once settled, he had seemed glad for the meal and warm bed, at
least for the night. Nick had no doubt that when the child decided to leave
he would do so. Dover wasn't a secure facility, and if he really wanted to
leave, there wasn't much Dover could do to keep him there.
Sighing, Nick finished his glass and rose to place it in the dishwasher. He
saw too many kids like Alex. The de Brabant Foundation made large
contributions to many care centres and support groups, but even he couldn't
help them all, not if the children didn't want it.
Flicking off the TV and lights, he finally trudged upstairs to his bed.


The Raven was pumping, almost full by eleven o'clock. He was sure it would
stay this way until nearer to closing. Sitting in his customary place at the
end of the bar, Lacroix gazed about his club as both Vampires and mortals
alike indulged in their games of foreplay and entertainment.
He felt a shift in the atmosphere by the front door and cast his eyes to see
what potential problem may arise. He was instantly intrigued by the small
commotion. A woman, once quite beautiful, now thin and wasted, came
staggering in the door. She was obviously quite angry. His bouncer took her
by the arm, and was about to throw her back onto the street where she
belonged, when she mentioned his name. The bouncer glanced in his direction
and raised his eyebrows in question. Lacroix nodded, and the woman was let
go. She pushed her way through the crowd, and upon reaching the bar, was
about to ask the bartender where he was when she caught sight of him
watching her from his usual position at the end of the bar. So...she knew
his identity. Intriguing. This could become more than a little interesting.
He licked his lips in anticipation of the upcoming events.
The woman came striding to him. None of the fire had dimmed in her journey
across the room.
"Where is he?!" she yelled angrily at him above the music. Lacroix had no
idea what she was ranting about, but he sighed mentally and waved her to
follow him into the privacy of his office.
With the loud music reduced to a muffle, he turned back to her as she
entered and asked,
"Now, my dear, where is who?" he said calmly, leaning against the front of
his desk.
The woman, still young, perhaps in her early thirties, wildly paced before
him.
"Alexander! Who else?! I know Simon brought him here. Now where is my son?!"
Ahh. The child of a few nights ago.
"First things first, my dear. Who, may I ask, are you?"
She chuckled and smiled snidely.
"I know I'm not as good-looking as I was, but surely you recognise me,
Lucien?" she told him.
"I'm afraid we have never met," he assured her.
"Yes, we have," she countered, crossing her arms. "Oh, but then why would
you remember me? I'm dead, aren't I?" She waited for him to respond, but
Lacroix just waited. He still had no recollection of this woman.
"San Francisco, September 14th, 1988, was the day you fucked me and left me
for dead."
Lacroix frowned. Not only at the vulgarity, but also as certain memories
were stirred...Oh dear. He recalled quite well this woman now. She really
was a little worse for wear. The years had not been kind, or more to the
point, she had not been kind to herself.
"Rebecca," he acknowledged.
"Yes."
He found his eyes softening as he remembered a time not so long ago, 12
years, to be exact.
He had thought himself taken somewhat with this young woman. She had been
eighteen, fresh from rural America. He was searching for Nicholas, as per
the norm, when he had stumbled across her at a charity function his son had
been attending. He had been intrigued by her beauty, and as it so happened,
she unveiled a keen mind and willingness for the extraordinary, namely him.
He had courted her for several weeks; they had found pleasure and
companionship together. That was, until he had to move on. He had felt it
such a waste of a vibrant life, but she had known too much, and at the time,
Nicholas had caught the eye of certain Enforcers and he had no leeway with
his own mishaps. But he had been in a rush when he had finally taken her. In
fact, they had been rather rudely interrupted in the midst of passion by a
jealous suitor. He had not been able to dispose of the bodies before the
authorities had been alerted to the commotion. Apparently he had been more
careless than he'd first thought.
"You left me to die."
"I'd thought you already dead," he told her quietly.
"I almost was."
Lacroix pushed abruptly away from the desk. He wasn't sure what to do with
her now. He would have to check on her background, see if she would be
missed, etc. Changing the subject, he asked, her.
"The child is yours?"
"Yes." She paused, then told him calmly, "And he's yours too."
Lacroix laughed. Deluded girl.
"I'm afraid that is quite impossible," he chuckled coldly.
"Why?"
"Because I can not bear children."
She laughed at him.
"Yeah, well you seem quite capable to me." He just shook his head. "There
was no one else, Lucien. No one before, and no one for a long time after."
He narrowed his eyes.
"That I find hard to believe."
"Oh? Why not? Because I was beautiful? Easy?" she argued, her hands on her
hips.
Lacroix rounded his desk and sat down in his chair and swivelled it to face
her.
"You were anything but easy, my dear." Even for him it had taken over a
month to finally get her into his bed.
"Exactly. Not to mention I was a virgin."
"Excuse me?" He had been sure she was not.
"Oh, please! How could you be so naive! I read a lot, I practised, I knew
what to do, I just had never done it with a man before!"" She was getting
rather hot under the collar again.
Lacroix wasn't having any more of her ramblings.
"If you wish to delude yourself and believe I am the father of your child,
go ahead, but I shall have nothing to do with him, or you."
"Fine! I just want to know where the hell my son is!!"
"I have no idea."
"What do you mean? Simon said he left him with you?!"
"He left the boy at the bar and left. The boy followed soon after. That was
first and last I saw of your offspring." He was beginning to lose his
patience. "And now, if you don't mind, I have a bar to run." He rose and
began herding Rebecca from his office.
"You just let an eleven-year-old-boy leave here at 2 in the morning?!" she
shouted at him.
"He was hardly my responsibility."
"He is your son!"
"No, he is not. Now leave. I do not wish to see you again," he growled.
"You bastard! If anything's happened to him, I'll...I'll..."
"You'll what? Tell?" He flashed his eyes to gold and she flinched. Lacroix
then waited as he watched her go through her options. "And if your suitor
is anything to go by...I would think the boy is better off where he is," he
added snidely.
Rebecca turned and reached for the doorhandle. Without turning back, she
said coldly,
"He looks just like you, even the colour of your eyes." She looked over her
shoulder and stared into his icy depths. "I think he is one of you, too."
With that last word, she flung open the door and stormed out into the night.
Lacroix stood still for a moment. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He was not the child's father. He had taken many mortals in his time, and
none had ever conceived. He had to admit, though, it was not unheard of for
a vampire to father a child. But these children were often soon hunted and
killed, as more often than not they became hunters, thus a threat to their
kind. Sighing, he went to his wetbar and poured himself another wine.


Two nights later, Alex lay on his bed in the Dover home. He wanted out. They
were going to foster him out, and he knew what that was like. When he was
nine, social services took him away from his mom, cause she ODed and he was
sent to live with a couple. This was the last time he was raped. Before
that, Simon had done him, but ever since he just kept away from his
stepfather, he rarely slept at home, and then only when Simon wasn't there.
The worst he got nowadays was a hard beating, or thrown out to fend for
himself. His mom didn't care--not when she was high, anyway. Sometimes it
would be better, when she hadn't been shooting up as much for a while. But
then Simon would fix her up again and she would become oblivious to any and
all of his needs. Simon had made him suck him off right in front of his
mother once; she had been so high, she had just smiled and fallen back on
the bed beside them.
Alex wiped away the tears which trickled down his face. It was times like
this when he let himself cry. Never when others were there, or in this case,
awake. He quickly glanced around him to see if any of the other boys had
heard or seen him. Simon had broken his jaw once because he had cried. He
had watched his mom being beaten up. He'd only been six. It was the last
time he had ever cried in front of anyone, no matter what they did to him.
Alex threw back his blankets to reveal his fully clothed body. He swung his
feet to the floor and slipped into his shoes. Checking to make sure everyone
else was still asleep, he opened the dormitory door and slipped into the
corridor.

"Alex!" Matt saw his new friend and waved as he came nearer.
"Hey, Matt," Alex said as he sat down on the step beside him. Matt took a
good look at his injures; his eye wasn't swollen anymore, but it was still a
purple colour.
"I wondered where you had got to. Rough one, huh?"
"Yeah. I called Nick, and he took me to this home, but I took off while I
could," Alex told him as he glanced around the street, seeing who was there
and who wasn't.
"Yeah, he's alright."
"Yeah."
Matt stood up as a car drove slowly by, then sat back down when it stopped
by the girls across the road.
"You ain't gonna get much lookin' like that," he said to Alex.
"Yeah, I know, but I've got cash, at least enough for a couple days,
anyway."
The boys looked up as another car came to a halt, this time beside them.
"Guess this one's mine," Matt quipped, then moved quickly to the driver's
window of the car. Alex watched them talk and Matt lean seductively against
the car and smile invitingly to the potential client.
"I'll see ya, Alex!" he called as he opened the door and climbed in the
front seat. Alex gave him a little wave, and sat back to watch the world
pass him by until it was safe to find a hole for the day.


"Yes. I would like to make an inquiry as to the validity of a birth
certificate presented to me as identification," Lacroix lied as he spoke to
the city official over the phone. He listened for a moment.
"Alexander Foster, 1988...San Francisco General, I believe." He told the
person the required information needed to formulate a search. "No, I shall
wait."
Lacroix bounced a pen against his blotterpad as he waited for the clerk to
return and the infuriating muzac to stop. Why can't they have real music
like 90 percent of other phone services do, he sighed. He drew his attention
back to the phone when the voice blared loudly in his ear.
"Yes, go ahead." He listened for a few moments, then hung up the phone and
sat still, a finger against his lips, the other hand still tapping his pen,
its tempo increasing.
The numbers added up. The child was born almost nine months to the day after
the last time he and Rebecca had made love. Why was this bothering him? He
threw the pen down in frustration. Something didn't feel right.
He knew what he had to do, and there was only one person who could do it for
him...but did he have the gumption to go to her?

Coming out of MacDonald's, Alex glanced around before heading back down the
street to where he and Matt perched. He took a bite of his hamburger and
chewed, taking his usual seat at the top of the steps, where they waited for
clients to arrive.
Matt still wasn't back. Must be a long job. These could be both good and
bad. They often paid more, but left little time and energy to try and get
another job for the night. He sat and waited for his friend to come back. An
hour passed by and still the blonde boy hadn't returned. Alex needed to
relieve himself, so he rose and strolled down to an alley a few dozen metres
away. He took up position by a dumpster and sighed. As he re-zipped is
pants, he caught sight of something further down the dark alley. Curious,
and bored with waiting for Matt to return, he investigated. The object
turned into a lump of clothing as he got closer, then a person, blonde
hair...Matt. He ran the final few steps and fell to his knees. He hardly
recognised him, his face was so smashed up and covered in blood, but he was
sure it was him. Blank, soulless eyes stared away from him, the last moments
of terror still creasing his young face. Alex staggered back a few steps,
his eyes unable to tear away from the grotesque sight.

End part 3

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 4

"Pardon me?" Natalie wasn't quite sure she had heard him right. Lacroix
sighed, impatient with having to repeat himself as he sat in the visitor's
chair next to her. She was almost sure he would have blushed if he could
have.
"I would like you to test my fertility," he said again, albeit reluctantly.
"Your fertility?"
"I believe that is what I said."
Natalie just stared at the man for a moment, and he just remained deathly
still as she absorbed what he had just asked of her. Well, she thought, her
night had just became rather interesting. The next question was, just how
was she going to go about this?
"When would you like to do it?" she asked him.
"Immediately."
"Okaay. I guess I'll need a sample," she said, and rose to her feet.
Natalie quickly decided she would have to handle this in a completely
professional manner...before she ended up in a snickering heap on the floor.
Striding over to a cabinet, she reached in and withdrew a sample jar.

Lacroix had risen by the time she returned--she held it out to him. He
raised an eyebrow. What? She wanted him to do this here? Natalie stared back
until, smiling gently, she pointed to a door across the room.
"You can use the storeroom. I'm sure you would like the privacy." As Lacroix
took off his coat and hung it over a chair, he returned her smirk before
moving toward the storeroom.
Natalie couldn't help herself.
"If you need help, I think Eddie has a magazine or two in his locker." Even
as she said the words, she mentally slapped her suicidal tendencies. He
turned back to her as his hand rested on the doorhandle.
"I don't think that will be necessary, doctor." He smirked again, and
Natalie frowned at the implication of his leer.
When he disappeared, she felt herself blush heavily as she realised that
Lucien Lacroix was one wall away, masturbating at her request. She waved a
hand at her face, hoping to cool her own sudden arousal.

Ten minutes later he stepped back into the room, his attire in its usual
flawless place. He held out the sample to her along with a small smile.
Huffing her own smirk at his egotistical and confident manner, she took it
and headed over to her microscope. Due to the vampire's bodily function, the
bloody semen was cool enough to make a slide. Opening the jar, she sat down
on a stool and used a tube to withdraw a portion and place it onto a slide.
Next she moved the slide under the microscope and leaned forward to focus.
Lacroix watched all this curiously, standing a few feet behind her.
"Hmm." She made a noise. Was that a good hmm, or a bad hmm? he thought,
irritated.
Natalie looked up, away from the eye piece and wrote something down on a
note pad next to her before returning to her task.
When she had written several notes and hadn't spoken again for several
minutes, he asked,
"Well?"
Swivelling the stool, she took the pad in her hands and looked up at him.
"You may want to sit down."
He just glared and raised an impatient eyebrow. Turning to him, she said,
"Well, it's quite clear you are fertile." She watched his eyebrows rise
again slightly at the news. "After taking samples from Nick, this isn't much
of a surprise to me, but the percentage of fertile sperm are."
When he didn't comment, she went on. "Nick has about five percent of his
sperm mobile and healthy enough to even have a remote chance of fertilising
an egg, but with you, however, it is closer to ten, and of that ten, they
are stronger and healthier in comparison." She looked from her notes to
Lacroix once again. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to her. He
was staring at the floor, looking slightly stunned. Eventually he spoke.
"You are certain?"
"Yes. But I can do it again if you would like." He nodded. "Do so. Telephone
me with the results." He quickly rose and strode to his coat and pulled it
on before striding from the room without another word.

Marching through the club and into his office, he threw his coat on the
divan and flopped into his chair.
Fertile. He was fertile. All these centuries he was capable of creating
mortal life. Or was he? He fed fatally from his mortal lovers, bar a
precious few, perhaps a handful in all his existence. None had been with
child.
Rebecca. The pangs of doubt rose again. It was now feasible that she was
telling the truth, and that the child was his. But he had felt nothing from
the child, and though they only met briefly, he was certain he would have
picked up that telltale vampiric vibe. Sighing, he rubbed a hand across his
forehead.
He resigned himself, that for his own curiosity and peace of mind, he would
have to find the child and have his paternity validated. If the child was
part vampire, he would have to dispose of him, and if he was not, then he
would send the boy and his mother on their merry way. In the meantime,
however, he would have to assume some responsibility in the matter, at least
until the blood tests confirmed that he was not the sire of this child.


Red and blue lights reflected off the alleyway walls, giving the scene a
surreal atmosphere.
Nick stood over Natalie as she examined the body of the once lively child.
He rubbed his eyes as he felt a sadness over the loss of the young life.
Matthew Cooper. Thirteen years old. Bludgeoned to death no more than two
hours ago.
"Are you all right?" Natalie asked him, rubbing a comforting hand up his
arm. He just shook his head. He stowed the rising rage for later and
returned her touch. "I'll go and talk to Alex."
"He found him?"
"Yes. They were friends."
"Is that him?" Nat asked, nodding toward a small form swathed in a blanket,
sitting on a step at the alley entrance. Nick nodded.
"Poor kid. He's new to the streets. Maybe this will persuade him to stay in
foster care."
"Let's hope. These kids have had a rough life. They deserve better. So much
better than this." Nat gestured to the now covered body.
"Yeah, Nat, they do," he whispered.
Nick gave her arm a final squeeze as he moved away from his friend and
toward the boy.

Alex was staring at the ground, waiting. He knew they would take him back to
the home, and right now he wanted to be there.
"Alex?" A familiar voice gently called his name. He raised his ice blue eyes
to look up at the detective, then dropped them again as Nick sat down beside
him.
"Alex, I need to talk to you about what happened here tonight, and about
Matt." Alex remained silent and he heard Nick sigh. "I'm sorry about your
friend. He was a good kid," Nick said quietly, placing a hand on his
shoulder and rubbing gently.
"Yeah," Alex mumbled.
"Did you see anyone with Matt tonight?"
Alex nodded.
"He had a customer earlier. About nine o'clock, I guess."
"Any more after that?"
Alex shrugged.
"Dunno. I went to get something to eat about an hour later. He wasn't back
by then." Nick just let the boy talk. He was obviously in shock, his tone
unemotional, his eyes glazed slightly. "He wasn't here when I got back. I
waited for a while, then came down here to...go to the bathroom, and
I...found him...lying down there."
"No one else was around?"
Alex shook his head. They were quiet for a moment.
"Nick?"
"Yes?"
"I think I'm going to be sick," Alex told him softly.
"Okay." Nick helped the boy to his feet and led him over to the dumpster,
shielding the boy as he bent over, retching his meal onto the concrete. Nick
rubbed his back.
"It's okay, Alex."
"No...it's not okay," the boy whispered. Nick sighed.
"No, no, it's not," he replied. He wiped the boy's mouth with his
handkerchief, then holding the boy close, he walked them over to a patrol
car, waiting to take Alex back to the station for further questioning, then
on to the Dover home.
Nick reluctantly had to leave the boy in the officer's care while he led the
investigation into the murder of Matthew Cooper.

"Put me through to Lacroix," Natalie told the person on the other end of the
phone. "Yes, he's expecting my call." A moment later another phone rang.
"Yes?"
"It's me."
"Yes, doctor," he prompted her.
"It's conclusive. I ran the test three times. You are somewhat fertile."
She thought she heard him sigh.
"Thank you, doctor." He was about to hang up the phone, when she blurted,
"Lacroix!" He put the phone to his ear again.
"Yes?"
"Um, if you need anything else, you know how to find me," she said, hardly
believing the words coming from her own mouth.
Lacroix smirked, beside himself.
"Indeed, doctor....and...I would appreciate you keep this to yourself."
"It went without saying, Lucien."
"Quite," he replied in a somewhat softer tone. He felt almost reluctant to
sever the contact with her. Odd really.
"Doctor...?"
"Yes?"
"Would you care to join me for a night-cap later this evening?" What are you
doing? he asked himself. Not to worry--she will most likely decline. You are
not her favourite person, or vampire, in the world.

Natalie sat stunned. A drink. Did he just invite her on a date? Well, not
exactly a date, but they would be seen together again...What the hell. Her
reputation at the club was shot now anyway after that little performance
they put on last week. She was still amazed Nick hadn't heard about it yet.
"Um, yes, thank you. I'd like that."
"Very well. I shall see you then."
They hung up, both staring at their respective telephones as though they had
become possessed by the devil himself.
It was a drink, nothing more. Just a drink, perhaps some conversation, maybe
even a dance. Nothing but a good time, Natalie convinced herself, trying to
calm the increasing butterflies in her stomach.

Lacroix raised an eyebrow at himself. Interesting. What would become of
this? He raised a hand to his lips; he could still feel the gentle caress of
her lips against his. Would he even dare to get her in his bed...again?
Perhaps, but not tonight.

Nat tidied her desk away as best she could, then rose and moved to the coat
rack to grab her coat and handbag and swap them for the lab coat she wore.
Should she dare go through with meeting Lacroix at the Raven? She looked at
her watch. She still had a good couple of hours until it closed. Why not?
She may as well go and relax for a while. Gathering her car keys from her
desk, she left.


He was certain he had felt her arrival. It was impossible, of course. She
was not a vampire, but she did carry an air of strength with her. It was
something he found quite attractive in her. He tipped his head and smirked
as she met him at the bar and took the stool next to him.
"Natalie, good evening."
"Lucien." She returned his smirk. They played the part of lovers as they
met. And much to Lacroix's delight, she reached up on her toes and pecked
his lips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing his secret, and was
equally amused at the act they were giving the curious eyes following their
every move.
"What do you fancy?" he asked, gesturing to the bar.
"Whisky and soda, thanks." The bartender quickly filled her order and placed
the glass before her.
"Why don't we move to someplace a little less...centre stage?" Lacroix
suggested as he stood. She rose with him and let him lead her to a booth
tucked away in a darkened corner.
Taking a seat, Natalie took the initiative again, as she was beginning to
revel in the surprise she gave him at her actions. She sat right up against
him.
Lacroix smirked again as he felt the length of her body press against his.
Dropping his head down to whisper as lovers do, he said, "I have to admit 
I am somewhat surprised you accepted my invitation."
Natalie smirked and took a sip from her glass before replying.
"Well, I'm obviously desperate for some kind of social life, and rest and
relaxation is at the top of my 'things to do' list, and you just happened to
offer a free drink, so..." she shrugged and took another sip. Lacroix
chuckled.
"Ah, so my wily charms and good looks weren't what drew you here, but
instead, the offer of free liquor," he said with amusement.
Natalie held her drink up and saluted him, giving him a cheeky smile.
"So I take it Nicholas does not fulfil your rest and relaxation
requirements?" he asked her, their heads still close together.
"Well, frankly, no. We still have the odd movie night, but he spends more
time with Janette now, and most of my old friends have either moved on, or
drifted away in the last few years. So, I don't get out much."
"We shall have to remedy that, my dear...kiss me," he said suddenly and
smiled as her eyes widened. "We are still being observed," he added
smoothly. Natalie stopped herself from sighing, then blushing as he leaned
that little bit further to capture her lips in his. It was short but soft,
somewhere between cherishing and passionate. When he released her, Natalie
ordered another drink, then boldly draped an arm over his shoulder.
"You know...you don't seem to get out much either." At his raised eyebrow,
she went on. "Well, as far as I know, you're either here, or at CERK or
stalking Nick...enlighten me, what else do you do?" Lacroix stopped himself
from retorting angrily at her accusations. Instead, he told her firmly,
"I do not 'stalk' Nicholas. And I do partake in other activities." Natalie
just smirked softly as he denied his actions referring to Nick, but wisely
kept silent. "I visit galleries regularly, attend the theatre on occasion,
and engage in several business ventures."
Natalie picked up on the gallery visits; it seemed the only regular thing he
did for fun. He probably went alone. Hell, she did.
"Hmm, I kept meaning to make time to go to the young artists' exhibition at
the AGO."
"It is worth your time. At least two young artists are showing promise of
bigger and better futures," he told her before sipping from his glass. They
spoke a little longer, then Natalie suddenly kissed him again; this time it
was longer and seductive. She was well into her fourth drink and was not
only feeling bold, but rather aroused being so close to this alluring man
for half the night. As they broke apart, she cocked a grin and said,
"They're still watching."
"Ah. Then we had best give them something to see." He smiled and leaned in
to kiss her again. Natalie let herself be swept into his embrace. She
wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers into his short hair,
pulling him closer. He dared to probe his tongue against her mouth, and she
let him in without hesitation. Both completely lost in the passionate union,
Natalie didn't even consciously recall moving half onto his lap. Lacroix
moved back and to the side to accommodate her, wrapping an arm around her to
draw her body into his.
As they finally pulled apart for air, Natalie couldn't help but notice his
arousal against her thigh. She smirked, as did he, and wiggled her hips
against him, eliciting a satisfying gasp from the master vampire.
"My dear, you had best not play with fire."
"Hmm, but what if I like it hot?" she whispered seductively, hardly
believing the bold words coming from her mouth.
"Do you?"
"Yes. Very much so." To emphasize her words, she dropped a hand and gently
brushed his erection through his trousers. He closed his eyes as the
sensation washed over him.
"Why don't we take this upstairs? I believe you know the way." He smiled and
she slid off him and shuffled out of the booth, pulling him up by the hand
to lead him behind the bar and down the passage to the stairs beyond.

He pressed himself against her, her back to his bedroom door.
"Are you certain of this?" He pulled back from her lips to look into her
eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure," she gasped breathlessly.
Giving into his baser needs, he kissed her again, while with one hand opened
the door behind them and guided her inside. Natalie immediately began
unbuttoning his shirt, ripping the last two buttons off in her haste.
Lacroix smirked at her eagerness to have his body freed from the confines of
his clothing. He let her pull his shirt from his pants as he began to mirror
her movements on her own blouse.
Natalie finally bared his bare chest and ran her hands up the smooth, pale
skin, her fingers and palms moulding over his firm muscles. God, he was
beautiful. She felt his hands pull her blouse over her shoulders, and she
let it slip down her arms to the floor. She returned her touch to his
breast, slowly moving her hands down across his stomach to his hips. Lacroix
drew her lips to his as he reached around to unclip her bra. It soon joined
her blouse at her feet. He paused, gazing at her for a moment. Beautiful. He
took her full, rounded breasts in his hands and kneaded them gently. He
kissed her again as she unclasped his trousers. Tongues and lips began to
move lower, nibbling and licking jaws then necks. Lacroix sighed as she
expertly found his erogenous zone. She certainly knew the vampire body well.
He tugged at her trousers and they ripped open at the button, falling
easily, her lingerie quickly following.
Growing impatient, he picked her up, and while still joined at the lips,
lifted her down onto the bed. Lying alongside her, he quickly divested
himself of his trousers and pressed his arousal against her hip.
"It's still not to late," he whispered in her ear. Her only response was to
reach down and stroke him. He groaned, then took a breast into his mouth,
eliciting a delightful and arousing moan from the woman beneath him.
Hands slipped over bodies, and tongues followed their journey as he drew her
ecstasy to a peak then held it there, building it higher, along with his
own. When she took his manhood into her mouth, gently, then more firmly, he
felt his fangs finally drop and his need to have her break beyond his need
to torment. Pulling her toward him, their lips meeting again, he rolled her
over and easily entered her. Pausing, closing his eyes as the sensation of
being inside the scorching core of a mortal coursed through his body, he
then slowly withdrew, before equally pushing himself deeper.
Natalie moaned as he pressed harder, deeper into her, until he filled her
completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist to embed him within and to
keep him close. He began a slow, gyrating, thrusting motion, slowly
increasing in speed. His lips sucked and licked her neck, and she clawed at
his back mercilessly.
"Engh...hmm...yes...please...Lucien," she moaned with each thrust of his
powerful hips. He thrust harder as she met his pace with her own. Her hands
moved down over his buttocks and pressed him against her as he increased his
pace again, unable to deny the climax they both were nearing.
They breathed heavily, both faces showing the pure pleasure they were
experiencing.
"Please! Lucien!" She begged him to give her what she needed. Wrapping his
arms around her, holding her close, he thrust harder, rapidly, and as she
cried out in orgasm, he sank his fangs gently into a pulsing vein in her
neck, groaning as he joined her in their peak of ecstasy.

Finally shifting his weight from her, he pulled her to his chest as he
rolled onto his back. Natalie clutched at him, her whole being shuddering
with the after-effects of her climax.

Ambrosia! Her blood sang to him. A glimpse of her memories and thoughts were
still flashing through his mind. His one sip had shown him many things about
this woman he had never known. It had been a mere glance of the woman she
was, but the sheer strength and light she possessed floored him. He held her
to him, not ready to give up the treasure he had found.


End part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 5

Natalie woke first and turned in the arms holding her against his cool body.
Staring into his sleeping face, she wasn't sure how she felt about what had
happened. Odd really--she was supposed to hate this man. But recently her
feelings toward him had changed. Only, she wasn't sure if this change was
for the better. Her mind was telling her to distance herself from him, but
her heart was becoming more drawn to him. What was it they say? The more a
man seems not to deserve love, the more he needs it. That seemed to describe
Lacroix. Nick had told her stories of how he had treated Nick, his victims,
mortals he saw as nothing but plaything, toys for his amusement. Natalie
shuddered slightly. But as she glanced into his closed eyes again, her
apprehension faded back into a distant ball of confusion.
Easing herself from his grasp, she slid from the bed and entered the
bathroom.

Lacroix woke and smiled languidly as he recalled the evening's turn of
events. It faded as he felt the cold emptiness in his arms. Opening his
eyes, he lay and listened to her finish in the washroom. When she returned,
she did not meet his gaze, but instead went about collecting her clothing
from the floor and pulling it quickly on. He propped his head up on a hand
as he watched her.
"You are regretful," he surmised quietly.
Natalie slowed in her dressing and turned toward him, still avoiding his
gaze.
"No, not regretful." She halted completely and looked up to meet his
carefully neutral expression. She had no idea how he felt about last night.
"Confused, maybe. But I don't regret what happened."
He silently nodded. Natalie stood in the middle of the bedroom, at a bit of
a loss as to how to fix her dilemma. She had resorted to holding her pants
up with one hand, the button and zipper broken in their lust-driven frenzy
to remove them the night before. Lacroix smiled and gestured to his
wardrobe.
"Use a belt to hold them up, " he told her, a glint of amusement twinkling
the blue of his eyes. She gave him a slightly baneful turn of her lips while
turning to open the closet and withdraw a black leather belt.
Now secure and ready to leave. Natalie leaned over the bed and kissed him
softly on the lips.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said. He smiled gently.
"You are most welcome." He then added, as she moved away and opened the
door, "Natalie." She turned back. "If you should need anything..."
She smiled broadly and finished for him.
"I know where to find you." He expelled a soft chuckle as she left.
Flopping back down onto his back, he rubbed his hands over his face and let
out a long, explosive sigh. What was he doing? Shaking his head, he threw
back the covers and rose from the bed, heading into the bathroom to ready
himself for another night.

Natalie entered her apartment and threw her keys onto the dining table. She
went into the kitchen and immediately pulled the coffee machine open and
scooped in a healthy portion of ground beans. Pouring in enough water for
several cups, she flicked it on.
Turning her back and leaning against the counter, she let out a vocal sigh.
What had she got herself into? Lucien Lacroix? Of all the people in the
universe, he was possibly the last person she would have ever thought she'd
end up in bed with.
But after spending time with him, getting to know him a little, she began to
see the man beyond the vampire who did nothing but take great pleasure from
tormenting his ungrateful son. Whether he had intended to or not, Lucien had
allowed her a glimpse beneath his malevolent façade. Damn it.
What was she thinking? Did she really like him?
Maybe he had whammied her into sleeping with him, into become attracted and
arouse by him. Rolling her eyes, she chastised herself. He didn't do any
such thing....because right now, all she could think of was going right back
to the Raven and climbing back into bed. Smiling and shaking her head, she
turned back to her coffee now happily bubbling away.

With coffee in hand, she curled up on her couch and flicked on the TV.
It was thankfully her night off. In fact, she had the next two nights off,
something she was immensely grateful for. A knock at the door brought her
back to the now and then.
Rising and putting her mug down on the table, she opened the door.
"Hi, Nat," Nick said cheerfully from the hall. Natalie looked a little
startled, but managed to stutter,
"Oh...Hi, Nick."
She held the door open as he walked in.
"We had the same night off, so I thought you might like to watch a movie."
"A what?" Natalie asked, not having recovered from the near panic she was in
having Nick in her apartment so soon after leaving his master.
"A movie. You know, moving pictures. I hear they are all the rage these
days," he quipped, making fun of her unsettled demeanour.
"Oh, yeah, right. Of course. Just let me refill my coffee." She laughed
awkwardly and quickly disappeared.
Nick looked after her, noting her accelerated heartrate and obvious
nervousness.
"Nat? Is everything ok?" he asked her, following her into the kitchen.
Natalie flashed him a bemused glance before busying herself with the coffee
maker.
"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't it?" she asked him.
"Why indeed. Nat, what's going on?" Something was amiss. Natalie brushed
past him back into the living room. That was when he smelt it. He frowned,
his eyes flickering gold, and he grabbed her arm before she moved out of
reach.
"Natalie. Do you have something to tell me?" he asked her dangerously.
Natalie stared at him. He couldn't possibly know! Could he?
"Nat, I can smell him on you!" he growled angrily.
"How dare you!" she returned, her own anger rising just as quickly.
"How dare I?!" Nick retorted. "I dare, because I know exactly what his sex
smells like, Natalie! And I can plainly smell it on you!"
"Nick, it's not what you think."
"It's not? How can it not be? Did he rape you?!" he asked her, still holding
her arm.
"No. Nick, let go of me," she demanded calmly. Nick looked down at his hand
and slowly released it. Natalie rubbed her wrist and took a step away,
giving herself some room to think.
"Perhaps it is what you think it is, Nick. But then I don't really know what
that is, and I don't think he does either."
"Did you sleep with him?" He already knew; he just wanted her to say it, to
make it real.
"Yes."
Nick was stunned into silence at her abrupt honesty.
"It wasn't planned, at least not by me. It just sort of happened. We have
been seeing each other socially lately and, well, one thing just led to
another..." she trailed off and turned back to face Nick.
Nick just stood there, staring.
"Nick, please say something," she begged him.
Nick waved his hands in the air.
"I don't know what to say, Nat," he said quietly. He reached for his coat
and walked out the door, leaving her alone in her apartment, tears streaming
down her face.
Standing there, watching the door close behind her best friend, she realised
that Nick was likely to go and confront Lacroix. It would not be pretty.
Moving to the phone, she dialled the number to the Raven and waited.
"Get Lacroix," she ordered the voice on the receiving end. The phone went
silent, then a new, familiar voice spoke.
"It's me," she said, then paused for a breath before saying, "He knows."
Silence on the other end. "He smelt you on me," she breathed.
"It would certainly explain what I am feeling from him now," he finally
said.
"I think he's on his way to see you."
"Yes..." His voice pulled away from the phone, then back again. "He has just
arrived. I had best go."
The phone went dead and Natalie slowly lowered the receiver back into its
holder. She rubbed a hand over her brow and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Damn those two," she sighed.

Nick strode toward his sire as he replaced the phone under the bar.
Lacroix turned to face off with his son. He smiled and was about to offer
his usual greeting when Nicholas' fist shot out and punched him firmly
across the face, sending him reeling into the bar.
The Raven froze.
Lacroix slowly regained his feet and wiped the blood from his nose. Without
warning, he struck a hand across Nick's jaw, throwing him to the floor.
Picking him up by the collar, Lacroix shoved his son toward his office.
"I believe we will finish this little discussion elsewhere," he stated
calmly, ice forming on every word.
The moment the door closed behind them, Lacroix was on his son, dragging him
up against a wall, slamming him brutally against the concrete.
"Never raise your hand to me again!" he growled. Nick tried to push him off,
but his master was far too strong, and held him easily in place.
"So, now you know," Lacroix stated, forcing himself to calm down and deal
with this situation without resorting to their usual bloodshed.
Nick shrugged himself from Lacroix's grip, and the ancient let him go,
stepping back to give them both some room.
"How could you?" Nick accused, glaring, the pain of betrayal in his eyes.
"As you well know, Nicholas, Natalie is an attractive woman. I desired her."
Lacroix shrugged his shoulders, letting the rest speak for itself.
"Why? Why her? If you felt the need, why not anyone else?" Nick demanded.
"Because...against my own good sense, I find myself attracted to the good
doctor on more than a purely physical level," he responded honestly.
Nick was stunned into silence for the second time that night. Finally he
spoke as he watched Lacroix pour himself a drink. He moved toward him,
slowly, carefully, hoping not to disrupt the rare lines of communication
between them, fearing they would vanish into thin air and leave them both
hanging in the wind as they so often had done before.
"You love her?" he asked quietly. His sire hesitated before turning to face
him.
"I am unsure...Perhaps." He looked into his son's eyes. "Our relationship,
if you could call it that, has hardly begun, Nicholas. We have not yet
discussed what the future holds, if anything, for us."
"Then what do you gain to benefit from all this?! Is this a payback for
Fleur?" Nick demanded quietly, almost afraid of the answer.
"I benefit little, Nicholas," he told him, his tone equally soft. "And
no...I do not see this as payment of our agreement." He paused and began to
slowly pace around the room.
"Dr Lambert...Natalie and I have tentatively fallen into each other's paths,
and I for one would like to see where it leads. If you find this too hard to
endure, Nicholas...tough. It is time you grew up and saw that the world does
not revolve around you and my attentions."
Nick looked a little stunned. Lacroix was quite plainly putting his foot
down at his son's expense, not something he did very often.
"But what about Natalie? How does she feel?" Nick asked.
"I have no idea, Nicholas!" Lacroix spread his arms emphaticlly. "I know she
is attracted to me, but other than that, she is confused and obviously needs
time to decide what she really wants. She was in love with you. Then you and
she drifted. You have returned to Janette, so she is quite aware you are no
longer available or romantically interested in her. You are her best friend
and she loves you as such, but nothing more. Her blood does not lie."
Nick looked a little disappointed and Lacroix rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Really, Nicholas, please. You really expected her to pine away for you
until the day she died?"
"No, of course not," Nick huffed. Nick watched as his father took a seat on
the couch and sipped at his glass.
"You won't bring her over if she doesn't want to," he said.
"No, Nicholas, I will not."
"You won't ever hurt her."
"Not intentionally, no."
"You will protect her."
"Yes." Lacroix look down into his glass, swirling the remaining bloodwine
within.
Nick was at a loss for words. What could he do to stop this relationship?
Did he really want to do anything to keep them apart? Sighing, he sat at the
opposite end of the couch.
"I'm not sure how I feel about this, Lacroix," he finally admitted.
Lacroix huffed a chuckle.
"Join the club, Nicholas...join the club."

End part 5

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 6

Natalie was lying in her bath, the hot water and bubbles lapping at her
chin. She was thinking. It was all she had done since she had left the
Raven, and Nick appearing and finding out about her and Lucien had only
added to her conflicting thoughts.
What to do.
Nothing? Something? Anything? Sighing, she started, then relaxed back into
the water as she heard someone enter her apartment. She had the bathroom
door ajar so she could hear the phone if it rang...but it seemed he was
going to pay her a personal visit.

The door was pushed open slowly. Natalie didn't look up, but played with the
bubbles sensuously, hiding her nakedness from view.

"Would you like me to wash your back?" came the rough voice. She glanced up
and smiled as he rolled up his sleeves and moved to retrieve a washcloth and
the liquid soap from the small table beside her.
Natalie sat up and turned her back to him. His cool hands glided softly and
casually across her shoulders and down her back, like an artist feeling the
territory he was about to mould. Lacroix pumped a generous amount of soap
onto the cloth and began to caress her skin.
"Hmmm." Natalie relaxed into the caress almost immediately, and after a few
minutes of his touch, she ventured to ask the question.
"How did it go?"
"Not as badly as I'd predicted." He slid his hands around her hips and over
her belly. "He eventually became somewhat reluctantly tolerant. Which I am
sure will only increase once it becomes known how you feel about all this."
"How I feel..." Natalie asked herself. "I don't know. Scared, elated,
guilty, fulfilled. I don't know. I seem to feel all these." She paused and
he felt her tense under his hands.
"It would help to know how you feel about this...about us." She turned to
face him, and he couldn't help but begin the caress of her shoulders and
chest, moving languidly over and under her full breasts.
"I've not felt this way for a very long time," he told her quietly.
"Tell me," she requested softly.
"I believe I am beginning to experience feelings for you, Dr. Lambert." He
smiled almost nervously, and Natalie stared at him for a moment, his eyes
locked onto where his hands were still caressing her.
She lifted a hand and gently tilted his gaze to meet hers. She looked into
his eyes and saw something she was sure he rarely ever allowed anyone to
see.
Love.
It was then everything came into place. Her indecision rapidly flew far from
sight, and she knew what she wanted.
"Good." Natalie pulled his lips to hers.
Their tender kiss became passionate, and he drew her into his arms, headless
of he hot, soapy water ruining his silk shirt. Natalie smiled against his
lips, then wrapped her arms around him and raised herself a little to reach
for his belt, then she heaved him toward her.
Being caught off balance, Lacroix gasped as he fell into the tub along with
his lover. Natalie laughed at his playful growl; it transformed into a laugh
as she began divesting him of his clothing.


Alex lay in his bed. He was in a small, single bedroom by himself. The
social workers had thought it would be a good idea if he spent a couple of
days in a quieter part of the centre. That was fine by him. The last thing
he needed was a bunch of kids asking him questions he didn't want to answer.
It was late. The centre was quiet and mostly sleeping but for the security
guard posted by the main entrance and the night cleaners. They would all be
going home soon, and then he would be alone.
He stared at the shadows on the walls, the tree outside his window placing
patterns across the surface. Maybe he should go home. He could try and get
his mom off the crack and they could be a normal family. She could dump
Simon, and they would be happy again. Just the two of them. Like it was
before. Mind you, he could hardly remember what that was like anymore, but
he watched TV--he knew what real families did. They had fun together. They
ate meals cooked by the mother, and sitting at the dining room table were
the kids who were always smiling. The dads were kind and would play ball and
help with homework. The brothers and sisters would make fun of each other,
then help each other. They all loved each other and told them so. This was
what he wanted.
He sighed. It was all a dream. To have a family of his own, one which loved
him and didn't hurt him. A home was where he would be safe. No more running,
no more hiding from drunken strangers and lovers, no more midnight beatings,
so bad that he should have been taken to a hospital, but wasn't. No more
watching your mother heating heroin over the stove instead of pancakes, no
more...
Alex started when a shadow moved across his window. He sat up and turned to
see what it was. There was nothing. The street lamps outside cast an orange
glow over the pavement and the leaves from the large trees whisked about in
the gathering wind. He watched for some time as the night bore on. The odd
dog and human trudging down the road would hold his attention for a few
minutes before they disappeared into the night.
Tired, he sat up against the headboard, his arms crossed on the window
ledge, and rested his head on his arms. Eventually he closed his eyes.

Lacroix deftly entered the room and stood in the corner, watching. The child
had finally fallen asleep. He had almost resorted to helping him when he
detected the slowing of his heart then the subtle parting of his young lips
as his breathing slowed.
Lacroix moved closer. He frowned slightly as he felt a tingling in the base
of his spine. Carefully, he opened his mind and probed the boy before him.
An eyebrow rose. Quickly he willed the boy to remain unconscious and to feel
nothing as he deftly took his smaller hand in his own and let his fangs
drop. Slicing a small incision in the boys' thumb, he watched as the rich
blood welled slowly from the shallow wound.
Taking a vial from his coat pocket, he let the blood drip from the
appendage. Sealing his prize, he slid it back into his pocket. He after a
moment's hesitation, he took the boy's thumb into his mouth and licked the
wound closed. By morning it would have healed completely and almost
vanished. Letting the small drops of blood run over his tongue, he almost
staggered to his knees as a barest glimpse of pain and images rocked him.
Lacroix stared at the young boy. So much pain in one so young. He shook his
head and gently brushed the hair from the child's forehead before placing an
arm under the boy's arms and legs and lifting him to pull back the
bedclothes and place the child under their warmth. The boy shifted into a
more comfortable position but didn't wake. Sighing, Lacroix pulled an extra
blanket over the child and turned to the door.


Natalie labelled the last sample and placed it into the transport container.
"Well, that's it. I'll send them to the lab tonight."
"How long will it take?"
I've put a rush on it, but it will still be two, maybe three days. DNA
tests take time," she told the man sitting next to her. He rose and placed
his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. She reached up and covered
one hand with hers.
"What will you do if it's positive?" she asked him.
"I am unsure. Tradition dictates that he be disposed of. Either way the
enforcers will become involved."
"Are mixed children always ...disposed of?"
"More often than not. However he will be tested beforehand, to gauge his
development." He rested his chin on her head and dropped his arms to circle
her waist. "You have confirmed that the vampire gene is in his blood. Either
way he will be dealt with."
"But he could be your son," Natalie whispered. He was silent for a moment.
Then he whispered, "Yes."
Natalie rose from her stool and turned in his arms to wrap her own about
him, holding him tightly.
"This is all quite bizarre really," he huffed softly. "I know you wish to
ask me how I feel about the boy. But right now, I have no answer for you."
Natalie nodded.
"I guessed as much." She smiled and tilted her head to look at him.
"C'mere," she breathed, and Lacroix smiled and lowered his lips to capture
hers.
"Whoa! Sorry! I'll come back later," Grace said as she burst into the room.
The lovers quickly broke apart, Lacroix smirking as he watched Natalie blush
deeply.
"Ah, no, Grace, we were just...Lucien was just leaving," she said, pushing
her lover toward the door. He raised an eyebrow as he let himself be
manhandled from the room.
"I shall await your arrival," he whispered into her ear, then stole one last
kiss before he left. She smiled and waved him on his way.
"Lucien?" Grace asked once they were alone.
"Yes," Natalie said with a smile.
"So, when did Lucien happen?" she asked, grinning.
"He's been around for some time now, but we only recently took things a
little further."
"A little?"
"Okay, a lot."
"Isn't he that Nightcrawler guy?"
"Yes. He's the Nightcrawler."
"Wow, hon, you are moving up in the world." Grace paused for a moment, then
asked, "Does a certain blonde detective know about this?"
"Grace!" Natalie chastised.
"Come on, girl! We all know you two had something going for a while."
"Yeah, well, that's all ancient history, now...and yes, Nick does know about
him." Whether that was a good thing or not was going to be known in the not
too distant future.


Alex woke with a start. He had been dreaming there was someone in his room.
He hastily glanced around the sun-lit room. There was no one there but him.
Flinging back his bedclothes, he sighed and swung his feet to the floor.
Dressing quickly, he left his room and ventured into the dining hall to get
something to eat. The place was empty; he had slept in and missed breakfast.
"Alex." He turned to the voice calling his name. "There you are. Sleep
well?" Alex just shrugged.
"I've saved some breakfast for you. Why don't you take a seat and I'll bring
it out for you."
"Um, thanks," he mumbled then pulled out a chair and sat down.
The man handing him his food was one of the counsellors here at Dover. He
was nice enough. But Alex was fast realising he did not want to stay here
much longer. He was thinking about going back to his mom. Maybe Simon had
left her while he was away and things would be better.
He began to pick at his food; none of it looked particularly appetizing.
"We have managed to find a foster home for you to stay in for a while,
Alex," the counseller said.
Alex shot his head up and glared at the man as he took a seat opposite.
"They are a nice family. I know them personally, and I think they will be
good for you." Alex went back to his food, saying nothing. "The Andersons
would like you to come stay as soon as possible, so we've arranged for you
to go tomorrow morning. Okay?" The counsellor was waiting for some kind of
response to the news, so Alex gave him one.
"Yeah, sure, that's okay." But his mind was saying something different--the
opposite, in fact. He was outta here. Maybe he would go home. Such as it
was.


"Nick!" Natalie called the detective as he appeared into view. He turned
toward her and gave her a small wave, silently telling her to wait a minute.
She nodded and leaned back against the breakroom table. A few minutes later
Nick joined her.
"Nat." He closed the door to give them some privacy, much to the interest
and amusement of the nearby officers.
"Nick...I just wanted to thank you for being so understanding towards me and
Lucien. I know this has to be difficult for you."
Nick sighed and leaned against the table next to her.
"I'm not sure I really understand, Nat. But I have rarely ever seen him act
this way toward anyone...and what I need to know is... Nat, do you love him?
Or is this just a one-sided affair? Is this a serious development or just a
passing of ships in the night?"
Natalie watched as Nick fidgeted and shifted as he asked his questions in
quick succession. She smiled and took his hand in hers.
"Nick, you're my best friend. I love you. But I find myself loving Lucien as
well. So, yes, this does seem to be a serious thing," she answered.
Nick closed his eyes and raised her hand to his lips.
"Are you sure about this, Nat? He can be a hard man to live with."
Natalie chuckled.
"I am quite aware of that, but he also has me to contend with." It was
Nick's turn to smile.
"Yeah, he does, doesn't he? If you ever need anything, Nat, even if it's
just to get away for a while, I'll always be here for you."
"Thank you, Nick. That means so much to me." She wrapped her arms around 
him and he crushed her in a bearhug. A baneful smirk crossed Nick's face as he 
held her in his arms.
"So, if you two ever make this permanent...can I call you mom?"
Natalie whacked him on the arm.
"Ow!" he cried through his chuckle, clutching his arm.
"Over my dead body, Nicholas Knight!" She grinned and they wrapped around
each other again.
"Come on. We have work to do," Nat finally said. Still with an arm around
each other, they left the breakroom and crossed the room to part at his desk
to go their separate ways.


Sitting at his desk, Lacroix idly stroked a finger across his lips. He had
much to think about. Not only his developing relationship with Natalie
Lambert, but also about the prospect of being the natural sire of a young
boy.
His thoughts unwillingly drifted to that of his first-born child, Divia.
Would the evil that he infected her infect this child as well? Could he slay
this child as he had the last? Her crying plea still haunted his dreams at
night, and her loss weighed heavily in his heart. When they had been mortal,
he had loved her with every ounce of his being. Divia had been the first
person he had ever truly loved unconditionally. She was his daughter...only
now...he may have a son, as well. He thought then of Nicholas. His favourite
and most troublesome child. How would he feel about having to share his
attention with a younger sibling? He had yet to inform Nicholas of the
possible relationship between him and the young boy the detective had
unwittingly aided over the past few weeks.
Sighing, he rubbed fingers across his forehead. He wasn't certain he wanted
to go through the trials of parenthood again. But then again...if this child
was his, he would have a responsibility, to not only the child, but to the
community, as well. If the boy was to become a threat as a man, he would
have to be disposed of.
He wasn't sure if he could take the life of another of his children. Oh, he
could carry it out proficiently, apathetically like the soldier he was...at
least while the job was done, but even he wasn't made of stone, though there
were some who would be inclined to disagree.
He sat with his eyes closed, stroking a finger over an eyebrow, willing the
images dwelling to withdraw beneath the surface once again.

It had taken him almost 2 days to get here. The first was spent stealing
money in order to get enough for a train fare. And on the pretense of
visiting his grandmother, Alex had boarded the northbound train home.
It was dusk now, and he was standing outside the apartment complex where his
mother lived.
With a final resigned sigh, he crossed the street and entered the building.
It was a hole, filled with junkies, wino's, drug dealers and runaway teens.
He had never liked it here; it was part of the reason he spent most of his
time on the streets. Anywhere was better than here.
He climbed the stairs, which constantly smelled of urine and old cigarettes,
until he came to his floor and along to his front door. Raising his hand, he
paused before rapping his knuckles against the wood, straining to hear if
anyone was moving around on the other side, but he heard nothing. He knocked
twice before believing there was no one home, or more likely, incapable of
coming to the door. He moved to the end of the hallway and opened the
firehose compartment. He reached in and felt along the roof of the cupboard
until he felt the spare key bluetacked to the metal surface. Sighing in
relief that it was still there, he pulled it out and closed the door. A few
moments later he let himself into the apartment he shared with his mother.
"Mom?" he called out tentatively. He felt a strange sensation shiver down
his spine as he entered. Something wasn't right. The air inside was still,
as though no one had been here for days.
He moved slowly into the small kitchen area which turned into the living
space. "Mom? Are you here?" he called again. The place was a pigsty;
takeaway wrappings covered the floor along with food scraps and small
baggies. Alex sighed when he saw them. His mother was probably passed out in
her room.
Walking the short hallway to the closed door at the end, he pushed it open
and let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior. She was there, lying on
the bed, facing away from him.
"Mom?" he whispered. He could feel it. The emptiness.
He slowly moved further into the room and rounded the bed to face her. She
was lying on her side, wearing a blue satin dress and her high-heeled shoes.
Her face was smeared with the thick layer of make-up she would have put on
to go out earlier that evening. Alex let his eyes brush over the rubber tie
and needle still buried in his mother's arm. He lowered himself to sit on
the mattress next to her.
He just sat there. He didn't know what else to do. He took her free hand in
his. It was cool, but not yet feeling the chill of death. He waited. For what? For 
who? He didn't know, but it was all he could do.


Tracy came striding into the bullpen and straight to the desks she shared
with her partner.
"Nick, we may have something on the Cooper case."
Nick snapped his attention away from the form he was filling out and bore
his gaze into his partner, leaning her palms on her desk.
"What have we got?" he demanded. Tracy obliged.
"Vice has a guy on file who fits the description of the guy which attacked
Alex Foster."
The detectives had taken the route of attributing the killer of Matt Cooper
to the man who attacked young Alex a few days before. It was the only link
or suspect they had. With no witnesses or forensic leads, they had been
grasping at anything and everything. And this link was an obvious one.
Tracy slapped the file in her hand down in front of her partner.
"That's all we have on one Louis Greggs," she told him. Nick grabbed the
file and flicked it open, absorbing the information within like a sponge.
"Good work, Trace."
"There's more." She then slapped down a copy of today's newspaper. Nick
picked it up and scanned the front page.
"Damn." He sighed as he quickly read the article headed 'Boy Witnesses Child
Murder'.
"We are going to have to put him into protective custody," Nick said,
absently making a mental list of things to do.
"That...may be difficult since Alex bolted 2 days ago."
"WHAT!" Nick rose from his chair and glared at his partner.
"Hey! Calm down! I didn't know until just now either!" Tracy brought up her
hands in defense. Nick blew air from his lungs and began forcing himself to
calm down.
"Why the hell weren't we told about this?" he asked her. Tracy sat down as
he did, and sighed resignedly.
"They didn't think we needed to know was what they told me. But I have the
impression they didn't know he was gone until yesterday." Nick just shook
his head in disbelief. And these were the people he had trusted the child
with. He was thinking the de Brabant foundation was going to have to set up
shop here in Toronto. Nick quickly rose and grabbed his coat.
"Come on. We have some travelling to do."
"Where?" Tracy asked as she faithfully followed her partner from the room.
"Montreal."

End part 6

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Part 7

An hour later, he and Tracy were on a plane to Montreal. Alex had spoken to
him of going back home, and it was his mother's police and rehab record, not
to mention the company she kept, which stopped social services from sending
the boy back to his mother. He would normally just have called the local PD
to go and get him, but he had a feeling Alex would run from anyone but
himself, and if he did that, they would never find him.
The flight was a quick one, only an hour. They strode from the plane and
into a hired car. Tracy read the local city map while Nick drove. With only
one incorrect turn, they quickly arrived at the apartment complex which was
listed as Alex Foster's address.
They were definitely on the wrong side of the tracks. The place was dank,
dirty and full of social rejects. Nick could see the used syringes and
condoms littering the sidewalk and foyer of the building. To the few people
they passed in the hallways, they were obviously cops, and he and Tracy did
nothing to dispel the deduction, exhuding every ounce of autoritarian miight
they could.
Reaching the door of the apartment, Nick stood and listened for a moment. He
could hear a single heartbeat, a little faster than the norm, and deduced
that it was probably Alex. After knocking, he listened and raised an eyebrow
when the boy's heart didn't react to the intrusion.

Alex remained seated on the bed with his mother. The curtains were open and
the night lights and the affairs of the street bums and hookers seemed to
blur in a haze of emptiness. He was alone now. There was no one else. His
mother had hardly been anything to be proud of, but she had still been his
family. Distantly he heard a knock on the front door, but he chose to ignore
it. His mother wouldn't be working tonight. They would go away soon enough.

Nick put a hand on the door knob and applied enough pressure to snap the
lock mechanism inside.
"How you do that?" Tracy asked him.
"Old lock," was all he said. He pushed open the door and entered, drawing
his gun as a precaution. He quickly moved throughout the small apartment
until he came to the room which held the object of their search. He gently
pushed the partly open door wider and sighed when he took in the sight
before him. Tracy came to a halt at his shoulder.
"Oh, Nick," she whispered.
"Call it in, Trace, he breathed. Nick closed his eyes for a moment then
moved forward until he was beside the child. He crouched down and gently
placed a hand on the boy's arm.
"Alex?" The boy didn't move, keeping his gaze on his dead mother. It was an
obvious overdose. Heroin, by the looks of it.
"She hasn't done this stuff in a while," he said calmly, all emotion void
from his tone. "Cost too much, even round here." Nick glanced back at his
partner for a moment as she quietly spoke to the local PD.
"Come on, Alex," Nick said softly to the boy. "Let's go into the other
room." Alex just shook his head.
"They'll be here soon," Tracy whispered to Nick, closing her phone as she
came closer to the pair.
Nick nodded and sat down on the bed beside the boy, wrapping an arm around
the small shoulders, while they waited together.

Eventually the coroner arrived and organised the removal of Rebecca Fosters
body to the morgue. Alex never left her side until the van doors closed and
drove away. The whole time he remained passive and silent.
Nick crouched down again and lifted a hand to turn the boy's head to look
into his eyes.
"Alex. We're going to take you back to Toronto with us, okay?" Alex nodded
and Nick brushed a hand up to stroke his hair soothingly. He then stood and
guided the boy over to the rental and on to the airport.


Natalie sat at her desk, staring at the piece of paper in her hand. She had
read it a hundred times and still the words remained the same. Finally the
end of her shift came and she couldn't delay it any longer.
Rising, she slipped on her coat and slung her handbag over her shoulder.
With piece of paper in hand, she made her way to her car.

Lacroix felt her arrive. He had began to sense her presence when he had
first begun taking her blood. It was a welcome feeling to have one's mind
caressed by someone who truly wanted to be there. He could also sense her
unease as he waited patiently for her to enter his office.

Natalie made her way easily through the tangle of patrons whom she noticed
moving out of her way as she carved a path through them to the bar. The
barman, Miklos, nodded toward the back office without her saying a word, and
she returned it in thanks.
She knocked lightly on his door, and at his quiet summons, she opened it.
He was waiting for her. Stoic as ever, he sat back in his chair, with his
fingers steepled. She gave him a tentative smile then dropped all pretense
and moved to stand before him. She pulled out the test results and handed
them to him before sitting in the chair behind her.

He silently took the piece of paper and waited until she was seated before
opening it. He drew in a slow breath. It was as he expected, but seeing the
truth in writing still sent a pang of unclassified emotion through his
belly.

Natalie watched as his features remained composed and emotionless as he
opened the paper and read it. When she witnessed his eyebrow lift ever so
slightly, she knew the outward poise was probably the opposite to what was
happening on the inside.
He refolded the lab form and turned his chair to fully face her, but he had
yet to meet her eye.
"Congratulations," she said with a quiet smile. Lacroix huffed an
unenthusiastic chuckle and breathed deeply, raising his hands to rub over
his face and through his hair. Natalie rose and went around to stand behind
him, draping her arms around his shoulders and leaning her head against his.
Lacroix closed his eyes for a moment.
"I am uncertain how to proceed," he finally admitted, then paused before
adding, "but I do know I can not kill him without first judging his threat
to the community. I will not lose another child," he finished quietly.
Natalie just hugged him tighter and kissed the side of his head. Lacroix
pulled her around the chair and into his lap. Natalie kept a hold of his
neck and rested her head into the nape of his neck.
"I have a son," he stated softly. "Even at my age, life can still surprise
you once in a while." He smiled wearily as Natalie chuckled.

Natalie had left Lucien a short time later as he went about making
arrangements within the community to have the boy tested. The Enforcers
would deem the child a threat, or not, on the severity of the vampire
element within the child. More is always better, according to Lacroix. The
more traits the child displayed, the less of a threat to the community he
would be. The reason for this was that most vampire/human hybrids with
traits below a certain threshold almost always became vampire hunters when
they matured. They would show very few vampire traits; they were human, but
for one special gift--they could mentally detect the presence of vampires.
Thus, they become very dangerous indeed.
She and Lucien were hoping the boy would be above the agreed threshold.
Otherwise he would be marked for immediate execution.

Her phone rang almost the instant she opened the door to her apartment.
"Lambert."
"Nat, it's me."
"Nick. How was your shift?"
"Still going."
"Oh?" She was sure he had finished when she did.
"Yeah, things got a little interesting tonight," he told her.
"How so?"
"That's why I'm calling. We need you to come in and give Alexander Foster a
look over."
Natalie's eyebrows shot up. Alex? She knew Nick had no idea he was Lacroix's
son.
"I thought he was at the Dover Home?" she asked him.
"He was until 2 days ago. He ran away, managed to get all the way to
Montreal, which is where Tracy and I went this evening." Nick paused for a
moment.
"Is he all right?" Nat asked, concerned.
"Physically, yeah, I think so, but when he arrived home to his mother it was
to find her laying on her bed, OD'ed."
She heard him sigh heavily.
"He's in shock, Nat. Very quiet, withdrawn. Can you come and check him out?
I'd ask Phil, but he's been called out to Scarborough."
"Of course," Nat said, snapping out of the stunned realisation that Lacroix
was now the only family this poor kid had. "I'll be right there."
Natalie hung up and headed out the door once again.

Entering the precinct, Tracy immediately waved toward an interview room.
"I'm glad you're here," the detective told her quietly.
Natalie nodded and walked into the room. Nick was sitting next to the child,
his stance protective of his defenceless charge. She was going to have to
tell him and Lacroix would have to be notified. The ancient vampire was all
this poor kid had left in the world. That, and the man would not be pleased
if he was not informed immediately.
Nick looked up and smiled when she came in.
"Hi, Nat."
"Hey, Nick."
Nick looked to Alexander and frowned. The boy hadn't reacted to Natalie's
presence at all.
"Hi, Alex," Natalie said softly to the boy. Alex ignored her, keeping his
distracted gaze in his lap.
"How long has he been like this?" she asked Nick.
"More or less from when we found him. Over 4 hours," Nick told her.
"Okay, let me take a look at him," Natalie said as she moved toward him and
began to take off the boy's shirt.
She found nothing physically wrong with him, though he was underweight and
had a few bruises and scars about his body.
After making sure he was tucked back into his clothes, Natalie tipped her
head toward the door.
"We need to talk."
Nick nodded and held the door open for her to pass through ahead of him.
They then entered the observation room, adjacent to the room they were just
in. One wall was fitted with a large clear window. They could see that Alex
hadn't moved.
Natalie turned to Nick,
"Nick, there is something important you need to know, and I'm not quite sure
how to tell you this..."
"Just say it, Nat," he said calmly.
Natalie looked into her friend's eyes and took a deep breath
"Okay, but remember you asked for it." Natalie breathed again then blurted,
"Alex is Lacroix's biological son." She cringed a little as she waited for
Nick's response.
He had a completely emotionless expression on is face...she wasn't sure if
he had been capable of such a feat. Then he stuttered,
"Wh...what?"
"Alex's mother had a sexual relationship with Lacroix, and well, the birds
and bees, etc.; voila...Alexander. Congratulations--you have a baby
brother," she told him hurriedly. Nick began to frown in his confusion.
"But that's impossible, Nat. You said so yourself..."
"No, what I said was, that it was highly unlikely for a vampire to father a
child...not impossible."
"He said it was impossible!" Nick said a little louder, his anger and shock
becoming evident as he thrust a finger toward the doorway.
"Nick, calm down. Lacroix didn't know any better. This had all been myth to
him as well...But we did all the tests, and Alexander is Lacroix's child."
Nick stood there for a moment, absorbing what he had just been told as best
as he was able. He turned to look at the child sitting helplessly in the
next room.
"Wow. Does he know?"
"Alex?"
"No, yes...I mean Lacroix...both. Do they know?"
"It was confirmed not long before I arrived home, so yes, Lucien knows, but
Alex does not."
"Are we going to tell him?" Nick asked, still staring at the boy who had
suddenly become more to him than just a homeless waif to save.
"I think we should perhaps leave that to his father."
"Lacroix." Nick breathed, more to make himself believe it than to utter the
obvious.
Natalie nodded and placed a hand on Nick's arm.
"How are you doing with this?" she asked him gently.
"Okay...I think," he told her. "It's a little bizarre." Nick suddenly
realised that was what had been niggling him about Alex every time he was in
his presence. He could 'feel' him. Nick let his senses train on the child
and allowed the vibe between them to open, and probe into the fuzzy reading
he was already receiving. Yes! It was stronger now that he knew to look,
unusual, but definitely vampire.
His brother...his little brother...Alex. Wow.
"I'm going to call Lucien and tell him what's happened. Why don't you go and
keep Alex company. Try get him to drink a hot chocolate or something," she
told him.
"Yeah, sure," Nick mumbled, his attention still focused on the newest
addition to his family. Nick hesitantly smiled. He had a little brother.
Wow.

Natalie placed the phone back into its cradle. She had spoken to Lucien and
he was on his way to the station. He had sounded angry, his voice rising
quickly when she had told him of the night's events.
Nick and Natalie were waiting with Alex when an officer knocked on the door
and told them they had a visitor.
Sure enough, Lacroix was impatiently waiting at the front desk. He moved
toward them the moment they came from within the room he sensed them to be
in.
Natalie refrained from a public display of affection as they neared, smiling
gently and coming to his side.
"Nicholas," he greeted his son tentatively, not entirely sure how his eldest
son was reacting to the knowledge that the mortal child was his.
"Lacroix," Nick replied and bowed his head slightly in submission. Lacroix
stared at the display for a moment, then quickly brushed a hand down Nick's
arm with affection and quiet thanks. For now, it seemed to be well enough.
Clearing his throat, Nick quickly pulled on his policeman's demeanour and
got down to business.
"He's withdrawn, silent and alone. We've not told him of you...we thought it
would be best if you handled that," he told his father. Lacroix nodded.
"Very well." He gestured toward the interview room. "He is there?"
Nick nodded and Natalie squeezed his hand before he let go to move toward
the closed door.

Lacroix slowly opened the door, not wishing to startle the child within. He
sighed. The child sat wrapped in a blanket, his gaze directed at the table
before him, his feet barely touching the floor. Shutting the door behind
him, he lowered himself to sit in a chair at the opposite end of the table.
He just sat without speaking for several long minutes. The boy's attention
finally began to move toward him as he waited. After the boy had briefly glanced 
in his direction, he quietly spoke.
"Alexander. Do you know who I am?"

Alex looked up again and took a slightly longer look at the man. He was
tall; his hair was short. He appeared stern and wore nothing but black.
Alex nodded.
At Lacroix's raised eyebrow he added,
"You were at that club."
Lacroix nodded.
"Yes. My name is Lucien Lacroix...I knew your mother many years ago."
Alex shrugged...half the male population had known his mother.
When the boy became disinterested, Lacroix realised he was going to have to
be blunt.
"I am also your father," he said quietly.
Lacroix watched as the boy started and blinked furiously. He was sure the
boy was about to weep. He sighed mentally and braced himself for an
emotional outpouring. But as he watched, he saw the boy's face alter.
Alex frowned and began to breathe heavily.
The boy was reacting emotionally...just not the emotion Lacroix had expected.
"Fuck you," Alex growled.
"Pardon me?"
"You heard!" Alex rose to his feet, the blanket falling from his shoulders.
"I don't care who you are! Fuck off and leave me alone!" he shouted, his
face snarled, clenching his fists tightly at his sides.
"I am afraid I can not do that," Lacroix said calmly.
Alex bore his gaze into the ancient's as he moved slowly from behind the
table into the open space between them.
"Barstard!" Alex lunged toward him, swinging his fists. Lacroix had to raise
his hands to soften the raining blows. He shifted in his chair to better
protect himself as he took the rage the child was spewing forth. Tears were
streaming furiously down the boy's face as he swung again and again at the
man. But eventually he tired. Sobbing as he futilely kept up the battery of
his father.
Eventually, Lacroix gently took the boy's wrists in his hands and refrained
him from continuing. The child all but collapsed into his arms. He cradled
the child to his breast and stroking his soft brown curls in an attempt to
comfort him.
The pain...and so young. He had failed as a father...even before they had
met. Despicable harm had come to his child, and he had not been there to
protect him...The child had every right to his anger toward him.

Alex cried and sat limp in the man's lap. They sat together for a long
while, until Lacroix finally spoke again.
"I think it's time we went home," he announced softly. Alex remained
unmoving as Lacroix lifted the boy and placed him back into the chair,
before leaving him to find Nick.
"Nicholas," Lacroix called his son over to him as he stood at the
detective's desk. Nick left the officers he had been talking to, without so
much as a comment, as he obediently went to his sire.
"We will be leaving," he told him. Nick nodded.
"Okay, you just have to sign a release for Alex," he said, quickly producing
the relevant forms and a pen for him to sign.
Lacroix sighed impatiently, but took the pen and scrawled his name
gracefully at the bottom of each of the pages his son indicated. He handed
the clipboard to his son and raised an eyebrow.
"He's all yours." Nick smiled slightly and Lacroix raised a hand to brush
his son's hair and quickly pull him forward to kiss his forehead. Nick
closed his eyes, then opened them when he was released. He smiled shyly
again and quickly glanced about him, sending the curious eyes quickly back
to their work.

Lacroix returned to the interview room and placed a hand on the child's
shoulder to guide him from the chair and toward the door.
As they walked out of the room, and the eyes of the department trained
uncomfortably upon them, the child placed his hand in Lacroix's and held him
tightly. Lacroix glanced down for a moment, then tightened his grip as he
led his son from the precinct.
Outside, as they reached the street, Lacroix lifted the exhausted boy into
his arms and carried him toward Natalie who was waiting beside her car,
ready to take them back to the Raven.

On their arrival, Natalie opened doors as he carried the boy inside the club
and up to the apartment above.
He placed him in a guest bedroom and tucked him under the covers.
Closing the door gently behind them, they both retired to the living room
and seated themselves together on the couch.
Lacroix wrapped his arms around his lover and held her to his chest.
"So what happens now?" Natalie asked him after a long moment of silence.
He sighed and shifted slightly.
"An interview date has been set to meet with the council and to test the
boy," he solemnly told her.
"Can you tell anything about him now?"
"Yes. He is stronger than I had anticipated, but not strong enough, I fear."
Natalie ran a hand down his thigh, giving him a little moral support, and in
return, his hold on her tightened slightly.
"When?"
"Eight weeks from today," he announced.
"Will you keep him here?"
"For the time. It will be safest for all concerned."
Natalie paused and hesitated before asking softly,
"How do you feel about all this?" She heard and felt him sigh.
"Torn between my duties as a vampire and Community elder, and my duty as a
father. I can only hope I will not be put in the position of having to choose between 
the two. One way or another, the child's life will be in my hands. It will ultimately be 
up to me to decide if he lives or dies," Lacroix told her, his reluctance and turmoil 
peeking through his stoic persona.
"So what do we do now?" Natalie asked him once again.
"We wait," he whispered.

End part 7


End...for now. Shall I continue?



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