~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ Disclaim me: the characters aren’t mine (save that extra guy) but wait till you see what I’ve done with them. This story will appeal to all the dark factions out there and involves Nick, Nat, and Lacroix. Uffish content abounds and there are some adult situations though no sex per se, sensitive temperaments be warned. Extra Special Thanx to: Knight Ranger (Debbie Grace) for beta reading and stumbling in the plot holes I skirted around, and to Mary Kroll’s beta reading and expert comma wrangling. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ In the Name of the Son (01/04) “This is such a dark city. Why did you ever choose to come here? Ah, but it does fit you doesn’t it? It is a dark place where *people* won’t bother to look for what they’ve lost. The gray, steely facades that surround you reflect your ashen face. A nothing face. Your youthful expressions lost among the harsh city glare.” “I remember when I first saw you a year ago… older, still handsome, eyes sparkling with life. I knew you instantly. For, how would a father not know his own son? You had changed in the time you’d left me this was true. On a very dark and rainy night, ten years prior, you said farewell. It was all I could do to not fall weeping at your feet. My son, how I’ve missed you and how I have searched. I fooled myself into believing that I had found you many times. My dead heart would soar, only to be crushed by the weight of its disappointment. Though, this time I knew it was you. I saw it in your blue eyes and innocent smile. My Nicholas, returned from damnation, alive… and human.” “Now you just stare out of that pane, in pain. Staring... wondering at the dark figure behind a tree staring back at you. You don’t recall me. You see right through me. I can hear your heartbeat and can cure you of that same ailment. You are my son, my life, without you I have nothing. With me it seemed you had nothing, at least in your eyes. I never meant to hurt you, could never really hurt you. What I did to you…” a small shake of the head and lowered eyes, “was wrong and now you suffer the consequences of my actions. All I need is just one more chance… you really didn’t hate what you were, just where you came from. Misguided and mistaught, I am here to piece together what has been shattered in your time away from me. I am here to take you home. I have come to save you." Nick turned from the window, the chill of the night air had crept pass the ancient window frames and into his bones. He shivered. A warm fire would do the trick right now he thought, but no place to build it. He looked around the room cocking his head slightly, trying to remember where the fireplace was. There was none. He could have sworn… he could have sworn so many things at so many times. Instead he made his way to the tattered, black-clothed couch that stood center in his dwelling’s existence. An equally tattered gray blanket lay haphazardly on its back. Nick grabbed the blanket wrapping it tightly around him as he settled into the couch. His mind wandered. Or, more truthfully, did it ever stop? He noticed his surroundings, a painting on the wall directly in front of him – moldy, and warped from the moisture that seeped into every crevice of this place. It was a sun, or perhaps a moon. He could hardly tell which. He couldn’t remember which. From that wall, painted a flaking prison gray, his eyes strayed to the right, more prison gray and a mantel. A mantel that would have a fireplace, or some carved dragons but this one only had candles that were past their melting points and some dried, dead roses. As to turn his head was too much effort, his mind looked to the back walls and darkened hallway. Nothing to see – a sparse kitchen, some dust on the old, gas stovetop, a leaky faucet that dripped, dripped, dripped its way into Nick’s subconscious at night while he dreamed. Then down the hallway, which led to his bedroom, and to his grungy mattress stained with spots that were older than he. And back up to those windows. The dirty, yellow streetlights caused shadows to fall on his prison gray walls, the panes were like bars that he could look through but never escape. Exhausted, as Nick’s brain came back to himself once more, he let his eyes close. At least in his dreams he had a fireplace. Lacroix hesitated for a minute before taking to the air. Every night of this past year he had watched Nicholas. He would lose himself in the dirty blond curls that were slowly turning gray -- the creases around his eyes that wrinkled when he smiled or laughed. Lacroix missed that smile. He sighed heavily, forcing the air through his dead lungs, before searching the sky and joining it. A warmth of colors floated through Nick’s sleeping mind. Oranges and yellows danced with reds. He was home again, Toronto. His loft was warm but not overly suffocating. His tattered couch slowly morphed into creamy, black leather. He reclined with his eyes closed, enjoying the small sounds he heard about him. A mouse scurrying through the walls, the subtle ticking of the clock, the steady rhythm of Natalie’s heartbeat as she entered the service elevator downstairs. Natalie, the one bright light in his dark existence. She was his entire support system. Where he was cracked and flawed Natalie patched with her warmth. But, he exhausted her. He knew it and hated it. At every turn when she was there for him, around the next corner he was gone. He didn’t mean to do it. Perhaps, it was just a defense mechanism. To get too close, to love her as much as he refused to admit to himself, that was death by the Enforcers, or revenge by Lacroix, or any other number of excuses his mind could create to avoid the real reason. He was afraid to love. Nearly eight hundred years of self- loathing, and self-inflicted guilt had left him jaded. Only tragedy could come of it, if only he could fully convince himself of this. His mind was torn from its reverie as the harsh, metallic sounds of the elevator door slid over it. Natalie smiled behind her overfilled arms of groceries. “Hey Nick.” “Nat.” A polite smile and nod back even when his insides quivered like a schoolboy’s. “Whatcha got?” “I’m going to have a big mess if you don’t get over here to help me with these things.” “Sorry.” Nick pushed himself from the couch and grabbed a bag from Natalie. “I was a little lost in thought.” “You? No.” Her overemphasis made a cheshire grin appear on Nick’s face. Her arms finally free of their burden she casually eyed the contents of the bags. “Well?” He was as anxious as a schoolboy as well. “I, Dr. Natalie Lambert, have come up with another idea to cure you.” “You seem rather upbeat about this one.” Inwardly, Nick grimaced. He wasn’t so anxious anymore. “Don’t jinx me on this Nick. I know I’m always Ms. Rain-on-the-parade. Let’s not get our hopes up. Let’s be realistic. To hell with it!” Nick raised an eyebrow at her emphatic display. “This time we’re doing it and it ’s all in these bags.” “And it is?” “A full body transfusion.” Natalie blurted. “What? Are you serious? Have you been watching ‘Near Dark’ again? C’mon Nat.” “Nick, it’s so simple I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before. You have a virus. You’re contaminated goods. If we drain your entire body of its essential fluids and replace them with a mortal’s, voila, no more virus. Yes, I did happen to pick up ‘Near Dark’ at the video place a few nights ago. But, just because the cure for vampirism was a full body transfusion doesn’t mean that’s where *I* got it from.” “Okay fine. So, good doctor how do you propose we go about with this one? And… who’s the willing donor?” A perplexed looked fell over Natalie’s face as her mind told her she really hadn’t gotten that far in her “research” yet. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure about this one Nick. I really am.” He stepped forward and embraced her, wishing so deeply he felt the same. Nick’s dreamscape changed revealing a dark alleyway. The rain had let up leaving everything covered in glistening moisture – a beautiful sight to vampire eyes. But, Nick didn’t seem to notice. He only watched his father as the words sunk in. “You’re what?” Lacroix’s words were filled with a venom that obscured his true feelings. “I’m leaving you Lacroix. For good.” Beyond Nick’s dream, in an apartment a few streets away, Lacroix sat staring deeply into a glass of red liquid. He pondered his next move in reclaiming Nicholas. He must be cautious. His son lived so close to the edge these days and mortality is so easily wounded. He sipped and savored. Leaning back in his armchair he closed his eyes. The same scenes were already playing in his mind. “… For good.” Lacroix’s heart sank. He swallowed. He wasn’t hearing this. Nicholas had threatened to leave many times, and many times he had. Lacroix always followed him, always found him. This time though, there was something different in his words, something that bespoke of finality. Nicholas was fond of tempting finality. “We all must move on Nicholas.” As always Lacroix tried to disguise his emotions with logic. “Yes, but this time you’re not coming. You won’t find me tomorrow, next week, next year, or next century…” “Ah.” Lacroix was slightly relieved Nicholas spoke of the future and his existence in it. “And why, pray tell, would this time be so different from every other?” Nick really didn’t know the answer to that. He just knew. This time was for good. “Because I said so.” He felt like such a child. “That is the way it’s going to be Lacroix. I’ve had enough of you and your manipulative words. I’m not going to be your toy anymore.” “Oh, poor Nicholas.” Lacroix dared take a step forward putting his hand to Nick’s face, gently stroking it. “I thought you so loved being my toy.” Instantly, Nick’s eyes glazed an emerald green and his eyeteeth descended. “I’m through with you here and now! You’ve been nothing too me in all these years than a thorn in my side. You enjoy the torture you put me through. You have to dip your fingers into every aspect of my life and mix it to suit your tastes. I hate you Lacroix! With every fibre of my being, I hate you!” He snarled and twisted away from Lacroix’s touch. “Fine.” Lacroix shut his eyes briefly and lowered his head. “Have it your way. We both know how this will turn out. I will see you soon.” With that Lacroix took to the air. He would not let Nicholas see the blood tears that were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. He would not show him that weakness – that the sovereign of all vampires could be hurt by mere words. Nick’s tortured dreamscape watched Lacroix disappear into the night sky. He squeezed away his own tears as he did what had to be done. Lacroix would more than frown upon this attempt at mortality. He would think of it as suicidal. No, Lacroix could not be around to prevent this from happening. And would that he could, Nick was sure of that. Again the scene fell away this time replaced by a sterile looking environment complete with cold, metal tables and a collection of pointy, sharp looking tools. Nick reached for a particularly harsh looking one, sort of cross between a dinner fork and a speculum. “Uh, uh, uh.” Natalie’s mothering voice came from behind him. “Don’t touch, you’re not sterile.” “And this thing is?” Nick raised his eyebrows in that confused puppy way. “Tell me what you’re going to do with this. Better yet, don’t.” “Don’t worry you won’t feel a thing. It’s basically a simple blood transfusion.” “Simple, full body blood transfusion Nat. On a vampire, on me who is a vampire.” Nick’s voice quivered. “Listen Nick. You have to trust me on this one. I know this seems a little out there. But, what isn’t a little out there anymore? I’m in love with a vampire. I want to be in love with a mortal. Janette did it and there is no scientific backing to the way she found her cure. ‘Cause believe me, I tried to find one.” Natalie’s eyes began to glisten over. She was going to loose any sense of professionalism she was trying to muster. “Okay Nat, it’s okay. I trust you. It’s just strange to see your analytical mind taking a vacation.” He smiled hoping to calm her nerves for both their sakes. Thankfully, she smiled back. “Let’s get started then before it returns. So, basically what I’m going to do is drain your entire body of its essential fluids. I’ve calculated that I have two to three seconds to begin to replenish your system with healthy, mortal blood before you go into shock. Your still existent vampiric system, organs, heart, intestines, stomach lining, and the like should begin to react and feed as it always does. But, when they are gorged and the normally existent virus would begin to take over… the cycle ends. No more virus. The body will take the blood into its system unharmed overtaking the vampire. Think of it as severe trauma. The body will search for a way to fix itself and readapt to its new circulatory system. I believe this readaptation process will be helped along by the lingering remnants of your vampire.” Nick stared at her for a minute. Even with the bruise that covered half her face she was beautiful. “Well then what are we waiting for?” Here Nick’s dreaming mind tumbled into a nightmarish darkness. Flashes ricocheted beneath his eyelids. There was another mortal present. Nick could hear his heartbeat. It spelled out fear, unrelenting fear at what was happening to him. Then, dragging him across the floor, hands bound, mouth taped, and wide eyed. Strapping him down -- the sound of leather slapping against metal as his bonds were pulled tight. Nick was on an adjacent table, Natalie securing his own bonds. He felt helpless. He dared steal a glance at the mortal who was to be his last victim. He would probably be whipping this guilt out of himself for years to come. Even though this one did deserve it… and that was the only reason. He swore this was his last, necessary victim. The man’s quivering brown eyes starred directly back at Nick’s. They pleaded for help. They pleaded for mercy. Nick could only close his eyes and offer none. Realizing this the brown eyes did the same. Then darkness. Then light, really warm and yellow beneath his lids. He tried to move but couldn’t. A voice came to him, fuzzy and distorted. “Don’t try to move. You’re still too weak. I’ve got you on an IV drip Nick.” His senses reeled and slowly came back to him. His throat felt dry and scratchy. “Natalie?” He could feel a warm pressure squeeze his hand and then Natalie’s hazy voice. It seemed so far away. “We did it Nick. We really did it.” Nick’s eyes flew open but there was no more light. No more Natalie, only the gray walls of his prison brought into focus. He sat up straighter and stretched his aching muscles. Bits of his dream came back to him. He put his head in his hands, always those nightmares. Vampires, Natalie, could he never be rid of these accursed nightmares? His mind remained such a mystery. He painfully stood shaking off the blanket. Tears rolled slowly down his face as he turned towards the mantle. It was still so fresh in his mind. He was at home, at this home, but it was such a different place. (02/04) The walls were a soft cloud gray, accented by the colors of day. Red drapes, yellow ornaments. Everything was bright and alive. The place needed some work, the faucet dripped and the windows were old and rickety. But, it was home. A small dining room table sat between the kitchenette and the living room. It had a pristine white tablecloth, absent of any wrinkles. Two dishes sat at either end of it. To compliment the dishes, two fat candles sat waiting to be lit. And, in the middle, the most vibrant bunch of red roses Nick had ever seen. Their beauty captured him earlier in the day as he was walking home from work. Speaking of work, Natalie should be home any time now. The succulent smell of duck roasting on their home rotisserie was mouthwatering. And Natalie had laughed when Nick bought it. He made a few final preparations, poured some wine, and straightened the napkins. Natalie was going to remember their tenth anniversary for ten more years to come. Until they got to their twentieth that is, Nick laughed to himself. Finally, at the stroke of eight, when Natalie was to promptly walk through the door, Nick lit the candles. At five past eight, he wondered. At twenty passed eight he paced. Traffic, he thought. At nine he called her work. She had left on time. At nine-thirty he turned off the duck. At ten, he worried. At midnight, the telephone rang. He stared at it for a minute, not wanting to pick it up. Ring. All night he wanted not to be aware of the passage of time, of what that could mean. Ring. Where was his Natalie? Somehow he knew that the voice on the other end of that phone would be able to tell him. Ring. And quite honestly he didn’t want to know. Ring. He was being stupid, he was sure Natalie had car problems, and cell phone problems, and she couldn’t get in touch with him. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Rin… it stopped. Nick let out the breath he was holding, as if he somehow just escaped the impossible. He thought he heard someone in the hallway, keys rattling and footsteps. His heart fluttered; he flew to the door whisking it open – to nothing. Behind him another noise took over. Ring. Ring. Ring. Nick looked back at the phone as it called to him again. He left the door open as he slowly approached the phone. Trembling, he picked up the receiver. “Hel… hello?” “Her body is in the river.” Nick couldn’t find his voice to ask anything of the one on the phone. Silence echoed, followed by the subtle click of the receiver hanging up. Slowly, Nick lowered the phone from his ear. A hollow knock came from the doorway. He turned to the two men who filled up his doorjamb. “Good evening Mr. Walker. We’re sorry to disturb you at such a late hour.” His voice stammered. “I’m Detective Shaughnessy, of the Boston Police Department.” There was an uncomfortable silence before he continued. “I’m sorry sir. We found your wife’s body floating in the Charles River earlier this evening. Her death…” The words, “appears to be a drowning. We’re looking into it. I’m sorry, but we’ll need a definite ID…” were lost on Nick. Stunned and shocked he felt nothing. The candles burned. The roses died. Somehow the rotisserie ended up three stories down on the side lawn. Nick rubbed one of the rose’s petals. Its wet, sticky texture was only a dry, rough cover now. It broke off in his fingers. He slowly rubbed them together creating dust – creating his life… or lack thereof. Something beautiful and alive that was now a dry, withered old thing. His head swam as he stumbled towards the bedroom and the pills that would help him sleep and help him forget, until he woke up again. Darkness danced across the city for a few more hours. Lacroix found himself wandering the streets at a mortal’s pace. At this hour of morning they were his, with an occasional bum or street punk inhabiting a dark corner. His mind rested heavily on Nicholas and the past few years. After their confrontation in the alley he had decided to give the boy time. Nicholas needed him, always needed him. But, as children are prone to do, Nick needed to think that he did not. No matter, the constant thrum that was Nicholas always pulled on Lacroix’s heartstrings. Yet, one night he awoke to the sound of silence, the odd noise of nothing. He almost panicked. He could have panicked if such an emotion weren’t beneath him. Instead, he searched. He called upon Nick at the 96th. Detective Knight had tendered his resignation. He called upon the Raven. The community was ignorant. The loft was abandoned and Lacroix was alone. How absurd. There were two distinct possibilities of what his Nicholas had done with himself this time. The first was unfathomable… suicide. Lacroix quickly brushed his mind clear of this option. The boy was prone to depression but he was also prone to eight hundred years of life, why end it now? The other was this ridiculous search for a cure. The word was fire in Lacroix’s mind. That old phrase repeated itself in Lacroix’s whispers, “Oh Nicholas, what have you done now?” In desperation, Lacroix found himself at the coroner’s office. The good doctor surely had a hand in this. He found the “clubhouse” abandoned, save for its less active members. He smelled death, fresh death. This intrigued him. The body had yet to be placed in the freezer and with nobody to work on him at this late hour. Lacroix approached the sheet formed body. He let his fingers slip up the cool, smooth sheet – from the toes and the calf to the thigh and abdomen. The body was still warm. Very odd indeed he thought. Arriving at head of the sheet he pulled it back revealing its occupant. It was a young man most likely in his twenties. The look on his face was one of abject horror. Lacroix could almost feel bad for him. The mouth was agape, with tape burns around its edges. The eyes, deep and brown, were lost far away. He was beautiful. Lacroix pulled the sheet further down revealing toned muscles and bronze skin, or what used to be bronze. The stale scent of blood caught Lacroix’s attention. He focused on the inner side of the dead man’s arm. There were tiny puncture marks, a mechanical vampire’s incision. Besides this residue, the body was empty. As Lacroix leaned in closer a familiar scent caught his nostrils. He inhaled deeply. Nicholas. Nicholas’ scent was all over the corpse. So, this is what his young companion was up to. Well, Lacroix had seen ‘Near Dark’ too. How ridiculous. It had worked. Fine then. The only thing Lacroix couldn’t fathom was how Nicholas’ conscience allowed him to perpetrate such an act. What could this poor young man have done to deserve it? It almost made him proud. Intrigued, Lacroix picked up a scalpel off a nearby table. He looked at those eyes, those beautiful eyes, and wondered if he saw life in them. The body may rest, but the soul still lives. Perhaps, this soul was angry enough at the fate that befell it to come back to its body. It was to be an interesting experiment. As he dragged the scalpel deeply through his wrist he couldn’t help but wonder if Nicholas would find this interesting as well. As soon as the blood begin to trickle out of the corpse’s mouth Lacroix made his exit. If this worked the last thing he needed was another whelp under his feet. He tried not to be rash when it came to looking for his son. No one, especially a mortal if that’s what Nick now was, could just disappear – a name change, a life change, but never the person. He searched Toronto for weeks maybe months for what was time to a vampire? The word that Lacroix lost his golden boy spread like wildfire throughout the community. Yet, no one knew where he’d gone. The omnipotent Lacroix with his centuries of power, wisdom, and experience could not find his boy. Perhaps, he went to the states or another country? The proverbial needle in the haystack painfully goaded Lacroix like the purest silver. Even the ‘almost as omnipotent as Lacroix’ Internet yielded no answers. Preposterous. The thought that Nicholas no longer belonged to this world became a constantly nagging companion. Lacroix’s contacts began to avoid him as his demands for information and knowledge increased along with the gap of years to find the answers. He was truly alone. Ten years later Lacroix found himself in the states. A state-by-state search was next on his agenda. Massachusetts, he had never really cared for the state – its uptight attitude, high property taxes, and those accursed witch trials of which he almost became a victim. The latter being all thanks to Nicholas and his need for justice Lacroix reminded himself. He figured his stay would be short, the search routine, and achieving no results. He figured wrong. Unbeknownst to Lacroix, Nick and Natalie had finally decided to settle down in Boston. Years of traveling were finally getting to them and the need of a stable home won out over their constant need for anonymity. Natalie was weary of looking over her shoulder for those she was sure would come after Nick. She didn’t enjoy lying to him but it was the only way to ensure their survival. She convinced him he had inherited a great wealth from a dead uncle. This allowed them to travel. She convinced him his selective amnesia was a result of a severe trauma ten years ago during which he lost a lot of blood. She convinced him of many things. He no longer suffered from his precious guilt, and they were happy. Except for the nightmares, and she explained away those as well. It was a humid summer night when Lacroix first saw his Nicholas. He was absentmindedly wandering through the theatre district thinking he might take in a show. The marquee outside the Wang Center caught his attention. “Dracula: The Ballet” presented by the Boston Ballet through August thirty-first at the W...Fang Center. How… ingenious. To see the alleged Prince of Darkness in tight tights was too much to pass up. He sauntered pass the confused looking ticket taker, entering the brilliantly domed reception room. High brows huddled together gaily laughing and sipping their wine. Occasionally, they would steal quick, disapproving glances at the young folks who looked more suited to the Raven than the ballet. This was ‘Dracula’ after all. A tone sounded. The younger ones made their way up to the inexpensive balcony seats while the rest of the crowd fluxed together, moving into the theatre. Lacroix hung back watching the faces go by. Then, blue eyes, blond curls. No, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t. Their eyes caught each other for the briefest of moments, an almost recognition flashed between them. Lacroix could swear he felt his heart race and pulse quicken. This one looked so much like him. But, he had been fooled before – with those pretty blues and golden locks. He made his way into the theatre. Nick and Natalie settled in their third row, center seats. Natalie was a little uneasy at how insistent Nick had been to attend the show. Though she was happy for the night out. He usually dreaded going out at night. She smiled at him and he squeezed her hand in return. Casually, he glanced behind them. “What’s up?” Nat asked. “Oh nothing. I just thought I saw someone I recognized.” For Nick to recognize anyone would be a feat – unless it was someone from the hospital. “Someone from work?” “No…” He grew distant for a moment. “Like someone I knew maybe before the accident?” Natalie could feel herself begin to panic. She tried to subtly scan the room. Thankfully, recognizing no one. “I don’t see him now.” said Nick, joining in her search. ‘Him?’ She tried really hard not to panic. “What did he look like? Maybe I knew him too.” “Hmm. Maybe a little taller than me, military haircut… it was quick. Ice blue eyes.” Natalie’s heart sank. Had he found them? Dammit. Nick smiled at her. As the lights fell she hoped he didn’t notice how forced her smile was. Lacroix took a seat seventh row left of center. That infernal doctor was with him. She hadn’t aged well. It was definitely her that his Nicholas would steal quick, loving glances at, glances that should be his. He barely caught any of the show, keeping his attention focused on his son enjoying the laughter that creased his face mingled with the amusement of a small boy experiencing his first live show. Every so often Nick would shift uncomfortable, subconsciously aware of the surveillance. Far too soon the lights came up, but no one noticed the empty seat in row seven. Then came the watching and waiting… waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The first hint of dawn startled Lacroix from his reverie. It was unlike him to get so lost in memories. What a different man Nicholas had become. No matter, the time would be soon and Nicholas would come to him. In the end he always came to him. Lacroix sighed and with a quick glance around, took to the air. Nick awoke to the dirty, yellow sunlight filtering through his unwashed bedroom windows. He stared at the ceiling not really wanting to get out of bed. What was there to get out for? That man was never standing by the tree in the daytime. Natalie wasn’t making coffee. He couldn’t remember the last time he went to work. Instead, he gave his mind free reign to go where it pleased. It took him back to the theatre. It took him back to his nightmares. Nick fell into a restless sleep when they returned from the theatre. Natalie’s new edginess didn’t help matters. In his dreams he saw this man. He knew his name. Once, he even loved him. Yet, at the same time he was repulsed at the nature of their relationship. It was… unnatural. The dream came into sharp focus. This man, this Lacroix was seated in an overstuffed leather chair. Nick slowly approached him. “I’ve missed you father.” “Good.” When he could get no closer, Nick kneeled. Lacroix gently stroked his hair. “You’ve been away far too long Nicholas. It’s time you came home.” He leaned over Nick, coaxing his head to the side, exposing his neck. Nick closed his eyes. In the same moment that the needle sharp fangs punctured his flesh Nick’s eyes flew open and something between a moan and a scream escaped his lips. He bolted upright in bed throwing his hand to his neck. He was shaking. Natalie rolled over. “Another nightmare?” “Yes.” She sat up, covering his forehead like a mother. He was drenched in sweat. “I don’t understand them Nat. I just wish I understood them…” “It’s okay.” She cuddled up close to him. “They’re not real, remember that.” “They seem to be…” “I know. We can’t claim to understand how the subconscious works. Especially, when it’s trying to recover from such a serious trauma.” “A serious trauma that happened *ten years ago*” He was becoming agitated. “How long does this take, huh? Because, I can’t take anymore of this.” Natalie remained silent, unsure of what to say. “Nat, can I ask you something and get a straight answer?” “Definitely.” “Who is Lacroix?” Natalie forced her brain into action. All of the lies she could think of raced through her head. He’s not real. I don’t know. La… what? He was your father. Well, that last one really wasn’t a lie… she began slowly, unsure where her sentence was heading. “He… was someone from your past. Someone who wanted to control you and… and hurt you. He was one of the reasons we wanted to leave Toronto.” “Are we related?” “Okay, yes he was your father. But, he was a very evil man Nick. He never loved you. He was always trying to punish you, hurt you.” Nick narrowed his eyes quite unsure how to process this load of information. Natalie continued. “I would suspect that your mind is trying to piece together your past.” “Then what about the vampires?” She shrugged. “… To fill the void, for the memories your mind can’t recall?” “I need a drink.” Nick got out of bed and shuffled his way to the kitchen. Natalie let herself fall back into the pillows. She would continue the ruse as long as she found peace in the little things, like knowing that *drink* didn’t mean what it used to. Shortly, she found herself dozing off. Nick had yet to come back to bed. (03/04) Natalie found herself in the old Toronto morgue. Nick was facing her with a look of befuddlement. “You can’t be serious?” “I am.” The deadpan tone in her voice conveyed more than her words. Nick’s mind returned to that moment in the loft with Serena. Her ice-cold stare dared him to speak his darkest thoughts. Her silky, accented words shot at him. “Are you telling me you would not sacrifice a human if it meant regaining your mortality?” Nick could only stare at her too afraid of the answer that may escape his lips. His senses screamed an adamant “no!” His ideals, morals, everything he stood for would shatter in one act of selfishness. His darker side nudged at him. It was the beast that killed hundreds and gave up his life along with any chance at the Kingdom in exchange for earthly immortality – the one who would do anything to get what it wanted. It was ridiculous that he was even considering doing such a thing. His mind touched on Serena again. She would later go through with her sacrifice but would end up no more mortal than he. Slowly Serena’s eyes morphed backed into Natalie’s as she waited for her answer. Assuming he was lost somewhere in flashback she continued. “I know this is… is…” she threw up her hands “I don’t know what to tell you Nick.” She felt a stress headache coming on. “I just can’t believe you’re serious – that you just asked me what you did – to exchange another life for mine? Isn’t that exactly what we’re trying to get away from? And what if it doesn’t work?” Serena’s green eyes blinked inside his mind. “And what if it does?” Natalie could barely hear herself speak. She couldn’t believe she’d suggested it in the first place. She must be losing her mind. “Why not just donated blood? Why does it have to come from a live body?” She had prepared her answer for this one. “Which gives you the biggest rush Nick, the dead bovine in your fridge or the beating heart of one of your victims?” Natalie had almost convinced herself that there was a little more soul than science in this plan. “We are hardwiring you, as it were, directly into another person’s essence, into their very soul. To use donated blood would be like substituting veal at a five-star restaurant for a microwave dinner.” “For Christ’s sake, you sound like Lacroix.” She shook her head. “Maybe we can find somebody who’s terminally ill or…” “Do you really think you can justify this? How will you feel about that in the morning, huh? Tell me that!” His stare was dead on. “You’re insane.” “I’m desperate.” Nick turned on his heel and without casting Natalie another glance stormed out of the morgue. Natalie was exhausted. She plopped down at her desk attempting to turn her attention to the work she had to finish. Nick would come back sooner or later, he always did. After a few moments she pushed her “get to me next” folders off to the side. A body sat on the slab and her mind was nowhere to be found. Wearily, she stood up and stretched. “Beddie-by for you too.” She wheeled the body into the freezer. “Great, I’m talking to the dead. Not that this is new for me… okay Lambert… you need to get out more.” With everyone else gone for the evening she turned out the lights and stepped into the cool night air. Before she could manage her first fresh breath, she noticed a shadow shift off to the side. The security lock clicked behind her. “Nick?” Another audible click sounded from the shadow. Her instincts told her to run, but the next thing she felt was the cold steel of a gun pressed to her jaw and a black-clad arm flung tightly around her. “Don’t scream. Don’t make a noise or I’ll blow your friggin’ brains out.” The whiskey on his breath drowned her senses. She just nodded, suddenly losing her balance when the assailant began to drag her backwards. He was heading into the alleyway that ran next to the building. “Wha… what do you want? Just take my purse. Please don’t hurt me, oh God please don’t hurt me.” She could feel the hot tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. “Please.” “Oh you’ll be begging all right, but it won’t be for your life… and I don’t want your money.” She was flung into the bricks of the building. Managing to gain her footing she turned to face her assailant. He wore no disguise or mask, just the brown eyes and smile of a demon. Clearly, he felt there would be no one to identify him later. Her instincts regained control and she charged him, fists flying. His strength easily overtook her as he landed a sharp blow with his knee to her midsection. “Bad girl.” He growled at her pressing his full body weight up against hers and back to the wall. With her wrists in one hand and gun in the other he began to plant wet, sloppy kisses on her neck. The hot moisture condensed on the air and rose around her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I like bad girls…” He took her a few inches away from the wall bringing her hands down behind her back quickly releasing her wrists. Before she could free them he pressed her back again, painfully trapping her arms between the wall and herself. Now with his free hand he began to explore the rest of her body. He tore at buttons and zippers. She pleaded for her life. “Please don’t.” “Shut up bitch!” He pistol-whipped her across the jaw. She felt something crack as sharp spikes of jarred light flashed beneath her eyelids. She couldn’t black out – she must remain conscious. She felt his hand traveling south. She prayed for Nick. She prayed for anyone. The Natalie reliving this nightmare now in her dreams didn’t hear Nick approach the side door to the morgue. Natalie’s car was still in the lot for which he was thankful. He had cooled down a bit and was hoping to talk some sense into her. He tried the door. It was locked. Not too unusual for this time of night, especially considering she was working alone. He knocked. In the alley the assailant froze as the noise echoed past him. Fear flickered behind his deep, brown eyes. Natalie was able to pull herself enough from the blackness that threatened to engulf her, “Help.” Only, it emerged more of a whisper. The blackness roared in her ears again. “Help.” And it overcame her. She awoke again to a blinding white light. Was she dead? A voice reached out to her. “You’re at the hospital. It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.” The hospital? She tried to make sense of everything but the fog still clung tightly to her brain. She tried to speak but couldn’t find her voice. The medical voice came back again. “You had a dislocated jaw and some bruising on your midsection, along with a mild concussion. We’re going to keep you here for a while, just for observation. And there’s somebody here to see you.” Natalie blinked a few times and a blurry what looked to be Nick came into focus. “Hey Nat.” She tried to smile but her entire face ached. All her mind could come up with was the old, ‘does your face hurt, ‘cause it’s killing me…’ line. She gave up. Lovingly, Nick began to stroke her forehead. After quite a time when the drugs began to wear off a little she asked, “Did you catch him?” Miscellaneous nurses peddled about changing this bag, jotting that note. Natalie pretended to take no notice of them. “Unfortunately, no.” Nick replied. Immediately, Natalie’s ‘that doesn’t sound right’ senses sprang into action. “We’ve got an APB out on the perp per my description. Don’t worry we’ll get him.” APB out on the perp – since when did Nick start talking cop? She stared at him. There was a hidden mischief behind those eyes, a very dark mischief. Natalie’s dream faded. Natalie faded. Nick never went back to bed that night. Back in the dirty sunlight of the bedroom Nick wracked his brain over the last six months… all that had happened to him. The phone call, the man by the tree, the dreams. Natalie. He wanted to scream he was so frustrated. What did it all mean? His instincts had connected the man and the voice… it could only be someone from his past, perhaps his father? Nick wished there weren’t so many holes in his memory, he felt like badly aged Swiss cheese. There was a part of him that wanted to find the answers and another that wanted it all to end. Daily, these forces battled for control, it was hard to say who was winning now. Reaching onto his night table he grabbed a few more pills, roughly swallowing them. He didn’t want to be around for today’ s battle. All had been readied. All had been set. Now was the time to go. Nicholas’ foggy mind reached out for its body to awake. Now was the time to go. Another sun rose and set. Nick watched the last of his sometimes-happy dream life slip into the darkness of consciousness as he awoke. There was a nagging feeling gripping his insides. One he couldn’t quite place. He walked out to the living room and over to his window. That man was there again, leaning against that tree, watching. Nick squinted but could never fully make out his form. He didn’t really care why he was being watched. He didn’t really care who was watching him. He knew that this man held the answers and all he had to do was ask. If death became him, then so be it. Tonight, one way or another by his hand or not, he would escape his prison for good. Turning from the window Nick made his way to the door. He took one last look at the apartment and the moldy, old painting deciding it was a moon. The cool, night air stung him as he left the building. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. For some reason or another he was usually afraid of the night. He preferred to be indoors where it was warm, watching a movie with Natalie. Now, it was different. It didn’t seem so bad. For the first time in months, Nick took a deep breath. The scent of a coming fall danced in his nostrils. He would walk to the river. Yes, it was a nice night for a walk. He made a deliberate action to walk past the tree where the man had stood, though he wasn’t there now. His heart paced a little faster. Slowly, he wound his way down to the river. It was about a five-mile walk, but Nick didn’t care. He would reach the Charles right before dawn. Maybe he would watch the sunrise. He chose the bike path that ran through a city’s excuse for woods. It was quiet, almost serene. All the while he watched and waited for that man. He had to be following him. Every so often Nick would glance behind him only to be met with the darkened woods. He was nervous. Up ahead he heard a noise. Nick stopped dead in his tracks, chiding himself for feeling fear considering what he was setting out to do. Stock still he squinted into the darkness up ahead of him. There was nothing, but there was something. Something approached him. Nick heard humming; it was an old French hymn. He knew it. The man appeared. As Nick now saw, this was truly no man. The skin was almost luminescent against the black backdrop. The eyes glowed a deep crimson flecked with jade. The figure didn’t walk but seemed to float lightly over the ground, never disturbing a leaf. It was the Angel of Death. “Oh no, no, no poor Nicholas.” The figure spoke as if he’d read Nick’s mind. “I do not bring you death. I am here to give you back your life.” Wracked with disbelief Nick found his voice. “How do you know my name? What do you want?” “I’ve known you longer than anyone. I’ve been with you since the beginning. Don’t tell me you don’t know my name?” “Father?” “Good boy.” Nick felt himself getting dizzy. What was this? Unable to keep his legs beneath him, he fell to his knees, digging deep into the soil. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it.” Lacroix shook his head. “You’ve been poorly misguided.” He took a few steps closer. Nick could clearly see the eyes, how deep and powerful they were, the lessons they could teach. Over the horizon the pink tendrils of pre-dawn emerged. “I’m here to offer you redemption. I will listen to you pain. I can cure you of your pain. All you have to do is trust me.” By now, Lacroix stood a breath away from Nick. If he so desired, Nick could lean forward and rest his head on Lacroix’s knee. If only he would. Instead, Lacroix reached down and cupped Nick’s chin in his hand. Slowly, taking him to a standing position. Lacroix remembered the last time he touched his son like this. It was all so different then. Now, he smelled human. He looked human. The creases ran deep along Nicholas’ eyes. Yet, they were still his eyes. Lacroix inhaled slightly. This was too much. He wanted desperately to touch those lines, follow them down to his mouth, and breathe the same breath. To nuzzle up to Nicholas’ neck, planting gentle kisses, then gentle bites. Lacroix felt his eyeteeth begin to ache and fought every urge; he was too close to ruin it now. Nicholas had to trust him, to love him again. The forgotten tendrils of pink were slowly yellowing, but had yet to touch the forest floor. Still, Lacroix felt it. He licked his dry lips and swallowed. “I have to go now Nicholas.” With a deep tone and fixed stare Lacroix continued. “You must not go to the river today. Go home. Clean up. Go get your hair cut. Look presentable for me tonight. Trust me, I will give you answers. And I promise, you will be happy again.” Blankly Nick stared at Lacroix, at this thing he had just called father. As his brain complied he nodded. He glanced down for a moment and when a question sprang to his lips, “Why would Natalie say you only want to hurt me…” No one was there to answer it. In the darkness of the woods, beyond a mortal’s sight, another creature watched and waited. The time grew near for him as well. He watched the exchange with anticipation and… hesitating, until the elder vampire was no longer in sight, set his brown eyes on Nick once more before taking to the air. Nick didn’t go home. He didn’t want to face those prison walls for fear they wouldn’t let him out again. He did get his haircut. Then he stopped at what was his and Natalie’s favorite Italian restaurant. He tried to savor every bit of food that crossed his pallet as though it were his last -- the garlic that remained in his nose, the sharp scent of shredded Parmesan, and the tanginess of the sauce. Then, he went to the park. The air was chilled and the sky filled with clouds, but the sun still managed to dart through. As it emerged out from behind one cloud Nick paused and closed his eyes. The warmth fell over him. He could feel it travel past him, replaced by gray and chill. Far too brief is this life he thought. Sighing, he opened his eyes. The rest of the day was spent watching the people -- happy couples with their children. He and Natalie were thinking of adopting, as Nick couldn’t have children due to the accident. An elderly couple that looked like newlyweds walked by him, nodding and smiling as they passed, Nick smiled back. It felt good to smile. Finally, he watched the sun fall beneath Boston’s skyline. It was the most beautiful sunset he’d ever seen. Then, he went to find his answers. For some reason, he walked to the river. The calm of the day faded upon him seeing the sloshy, black water. He tried not to remember. Natalie. He had gone to the morgue with the police. The M.E. was just a strange face. Pulling back the sheet there she was – his light, his life, lying on a steel slab looking into nowhere. Around her neck were bruises and tears, hardly a drowning. Her gaping flesh screamed at him. He was told he collapsed. The next thing he remembered was a hot cup of coffee being forced into his trembling hands. As if coffee could really make him feel better. He sat at the river’s bank staring intently at the water. Just walk in. Now is the time to go. He edged closer, the cold quickly sinking into his shoes. Then up to his calves and knees – deeper still Nick found himself wading into the river. The current was strong. He turned to go back to shore, never bluff with Death. Suddenly, a blurred form tore past him. Pain erupted behind his temple. He swayed in the cold water. He slipped, his feet giving way to the current. His entire body became submerged. Nick fought for breath as he struggled to keep his head above water. His clothes entangled him. The cold numbed him. He stopped fighting. As darkness pulled in over his head, he closed his eyes. (04/04) Coughing seizures wracked Nick’s body. Feeling nauseous and dizzy, he tried to inhale but found only the remnants of gurgling river in his throat. The dirt was cool beneath him as he dug in his hands attempting to root himself. The world kept fading in and out of consciousness. His body trembled. He must be dying. “Nicholas!” The voice boomed in his ears -- it hissed at him, “I told you not to go to the river! Why must you constantly disobey me? And you call this presentable?” Nick’s mind raved. He knew the voice. He tried to speak but the spasm of coughs kept coming. “I have not come this far to lose you again to mortal folly.” Lacroix sighed and tried to regain his control. Slowly, Nick’s coughs subsided as the last of the water leeched itself from his body. He collapsed fully to the ground. "I was pushed.” The growl was evident in his tone. “Pushed, by whom?” “How am I supposed to know? I don’t have a single clue what is happening to me. Natalie...” “What about her?” “Natalie told me you were evil, that you would try to hurt me.” Lacroix’s face wrinkled in disdain. “That is ridiculous you realize. I love you more than I care to admit to myself. Your… doctor friend was wrong. She has pulled you around all these years like a toy dog on a string. Told you what to believe and when to believe it. Poor, helpless Nicholas it all made sense to your addled brain. *Temporary* amnesia, an… *accident,*” Lacroix’s tone grew louder with every syllable. “Constantly moving over the years, running from God knows what! And you never thought to question your beautiful doctor – your sovereign. Where is your sovereign now Nicholas? Did you hope to find her in the river!” Nick found a rage building within himself. With every word Lacroix uttered it grew more intense. ‘… in the river’ echoed through his mind. No, it all made sense. Natalie was trying to protect him and she died for it. Lacroix had taken her away. “YOU KILLED NATALIE!” Nick launched himself at this creature colliding with his body. Lacroix was caught off-guard and took the full impact of Nick’s lunge. Guttural noises tore from Nick’s throat as he gouged and bit and pummeled at the mass of flesh beneath him. The mass stopped moving. Nick’s blows became less… his growls turned to sobs. “Why… why… why…?” “Because she deserved it.” This voice came from behind Nick. He picked up his head slowly turning towards its source. “Because you deserved it.” Nick blinked twice at this apparition before him. No… something was wrong. He looked at those brown eyes and remembered. He went to pick Natalie up from work, or… he went to see Natalie at work… the door was locked. He heard a noise in the alley. Natalie. There were shots. He was hit. He was bleeding… the man got away. But, he didn’t get away. Nick didn’t let him get away and he deserved what was coming to him. Nick could feel his hunger, the need to kill. He could smell the man’s fear. He could hear the man’s heart. How was it possible? Unless… the nightmares…. Eight hundred years of memory flooded his mind, his head felt like it was going to burst. “This can’t be real.” He spoke more to himself, forgetting about the figure he straddled and the one that was staring him down. “This is real all right.” The man answered for him. “Do you know what it feels like to have every last drop of your blood taken from you? And I’m not talking about your *convergence*… Nicholas. I’m talking about being raped, having it brutally taken without your consent.” Nick regained a moment of his senses. “Who are you to speak of rape? I have no regrets. I have no guilt over what I did to you. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” “Let’s see you try.” He held out his hands, challenging Nick who climbed off of Lacroix’s prone form to face his new opponent. “I’m going to rip your throat out.” Nick began to approach him. Lacroix rose behind them both wiping the blood from his mouth and nose. He hadn’t felt Nicholas go at him like that in years. It was invigorating. So… his little experiment ten years ago had worked… huh, imagine that. How beautiful it was. His creation had rid Nicholas of that interfering doctor and would now serve as a means to an end in giving him back his son. Lacroix raised an eyebrow, “I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.” Nick was within inches of the man. The brown eyes disappeared behind emerald covers. The fangs were bared. Lacroix watched. Nicholas was going to get himself killed. The vampire laughed. “Rip my throat out? And how do you propose to do that?” “With my help of course.” Lacroix hissed. Nick stopped in his tracks. The emerald eyes shifted to Lacroix. “Try.” “One should not dish out a medicine he refuses to taste.” Lacroix hurled himself at the other vampire. The young one was far too weak for the powerful Master. He was knocked backed into the dirt. Nick still stood where he was… confused, angry, puzzled. His mind still played tricks with him – memories that weren’t his, lives that weren’t his. How could all this be so real? Lacroix towered over the younger vampire. He quickly tore a branch from the tree overhead. In the same swift motion he pinned the vampire to the earth. A scream escaped the younger one’s lips. Then nothing. Lacroix turned to where Nicholas stood. “All better then?” Nick shook his head. “I don’t understand.” “Come to me.” Lacroix held out his hand. “I have all the answers you seek.” Lacroix made sure to hide the memory of his last creation far beyond Nicholas’ reach. Nicholas, unsure, approached him. Slowly, Lacroix touched his son’s face. When Nick did not pull away Lacroix made a motion and slowly removed Nick’s muddy, wet shirt. His eyes traveled over his son’s physique. Nick’s heart thundered in his chest. Ten years Lacroix had dreamt about this – ten long years. Nicholas only stared at him like a lost child. Lacroix let his eyeteeth descend. A moment of recognition passed before Nick’s eyes. Before he could protest Lacroix was on him. They fell to the ground. He was pinned by the shoulders straddled by his Master. Lacroix smiled and lowered his head to Nick’s, laying a kiss on his ruby lips. A forgotten passion stirred deep within Nick. Before realizing it, he had returned the kiss deep and full. Lacroix pulled away and traveled the kisses down Nick’s neck. He could feel his son catch his breath as the tender flesh prickled beneath his fangs. He stopped at the vein. He kissed it. He bit. Something unlike a sigh or a scream escaped Nick’s mouth as he instinctively clung to Lacroix. He could feel the life leaving him. Blackness. He awoke to a warm and salty liquid flowing down the back of his throat. It was the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted. He sucked for more of it never wanting it to stop. It stopped for him. The vessel was empty – drained bone dry. What had he done? He opened his eyes into brown ones, lifeless brown eyes. He flew back off the body. He tore at the earth. This couldn’t be. This was just another nightmare. He screamed at himself to wake up. “Wake up… for God’s sake wake up!” “I’m afraid God has nothing to do with this.” It was Lacroix’s voice. Nick looked at his new Master, his old Master through emerald eyes. There was still so much that didn’t make sense. Lacroix read his son’s face. “I know my dear boy, it’s all very long and complicated.” Lacroix sat down next to Nick, nonchalantly rolling the dead vampire’s body into the river. He pulled Nick closer to him, drawing him into an embrace. “Just remember, you can trust me. I will always be there for you. It will be how it was meant to be. I will teach you to not be ashamed. There is a beauty in what you are and we have years to discover it.” Nick nuzzled his face into the side of Lacroix’s neck. Lacroix gasped as the razor sharp teeth pierced his flesh. He closed his eyes and smiled. His son had returned. His Nicholas. Forever. FIN ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~ Smilewithviolets@net1plus.com Comments are greatly appreciated. Permission to archive at FTP, JADFE, FKFANFIC & FANFIC2 – oh and to see Nick and Lacroix face the witch trials of N.E. drop me a note. Allison Unnamed Cousin Smilewithviolets@net1plus.com "So pale, so cold, so beautiful if not clinically insane."