Episode 110: All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes--a
Forever Knight story
By April French

Characters: Nick and a whole lot of others

Author's Note:

Still with me everybody? Good, good. This is the
second half of 'All I Was in Ashes', and to everyone
whom I might have made nuts, well, aren't you glad I'm
doing my job??? All my characters are still mine, all
the FK characters still aren't. Praise, comments,
criticisms and kudos will be crammed into a get-well
card and sent to Nick. All nasty flames will be sent
to LaCroix, who knows who you are, and Tenebres, who
saw what you did. Many thanks to darkstranger, who
alerted me to the missing scene from 'Night in
Question.' This story will be archived at my site
http://www.geocities.com/runeshard/fkficindex.html
with all the others. Permission to archive is given to
FKFIC (when it gets up and running again), FKFIC2 (if
it ever reappears) and the FTP site (which is a
Godsend). Anyone else wishing to archive must first
bribe me with "Great Classic Hauntings," narrated by
Geraint Wyn Davies (even though I've already got it...
::listens to Ger and drools::).

~~~

"And I wasn't all the things I tried to make believe I
was. And I wouldn't be the one to kneel before the
dreams I wanted. And all the talk and all the lies
were all the empty things disguised as me..."

          -- The Goo Goo Dolls, "Sympathy"

~~~

All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (1/?)

Natalie rode the elevator in silence. She was
exhausted physically, mentally... she pushed the door
open and stepped into the echoing, empty loft. Tossing
her purse and keys onto the kitchen table, she ignored
the furiously blinking light on the answering machine
in favor of kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto
the couch. <I could really use a Scotch right about
now...>

The phone rang, and rang--it was ringing fit to kill,
but Natalie refused to answer. Finally the machine
picked it up.

"Natalie, I know you're there. Would you please pick
up the damn phone?" Reese paused, but when no answer
was forthcoming, he continued. "I know it's no use
asking you where Nick is or if I can visit him--you
say his father says no visitors, I can respect that,
I've met him--but I'm worried about you, and so's your
supervisor. We, uh, well, Natalie, we know you said
you were gonna come back to work this week, but we
think you ought to take an extended leave of absence.
You know, just until Nick's ought of the woods. As
long as you need, it's not a problem. Um... Tell Nick
I said hi and--Natalie? <Call me.>" A click, and then
a dial tone.

Well, that was a semi-good thing. At least her job
wasn't in jeopardy... but in the grand scheme of
things, that was of small concern.

The surgery had been performed successfully--the
massive tumor had been removed, and all the damage
done to Nick's body in the car accident was slowly
being repaired. He was in a deep coma now; Russell and
Leif and Julian all agreed that this was a perfectly
normal reaction for such a severely injured vampire,
and that despite outward appearances he was healing.
But the warm, bright tendril that normally wrapped
around Natalie's spine was dimmed and dull, with only
a flicker to indicate that Nick's heart was still
beating. And that was the part of the whole business
that frightened Natalie the most--the silence. The
emptiness of her mind, a cold thing that she had never
known before experiencing the intimacy of the blood
bond.

Whenever she spoke to him in the clinic, held his
cold, limp hand, touched his pale cheek, there was no
indication that he was even aware of her.

"I just wish you could hear me, Nick."

***

"I wish you could hear me, too, Nat..." Nick sighed,
and drew the curtain over the window of the study. The
hand on his shoulder was sympathetic. "I've lost track
of the time again. How long have I been here?"

"About a month," said the White-Blond Boy.

"How much longer do I have to stay?"

The Boy raised a pale eyebrow--Nick was certain he had
seen that gesture somewhere before--and gestured to
the window on the opposite wall. "Would you rather be
out there?"

Nick winced. 'Out there' was the barren plane between
life and death that the mysterious Boy had snatched
him from as soon as the Cadillac had crashed. "If you
leave this room, Nicolas," the Boy repeated for the
umpteenth time, "there is no going back, not again. If
you want to return to your life, you need to be
patient."

"I know, I <know>, I just... I wish I could speak to
her."

"If I could manage that, I would make it a reality.
Unfortunately..." The Boy lifted his broad shoulders
in an elegant shrug. "Pick up another book, have
another glass of wine, stare into the fire a bit more.
And look on the bright side," he added, grinning
slightly. "When you do wake up, you won't remember
being here."

***

At least with the extended leave of absence, she would
not have to worry about leaving Nick alone with the
doctors--she gave O'Neal and Bridget credit, they
weren't leaving him alone either, but Natalie had a
feeling that O'Neal would rather be hovering over his
partner than her husband. And despite the slow but
seeming progress he was making, Natalie was petrified
of Nick dying--and her not being there.

Suddenly Natalie was desperate for noise--for speech.
She forced herself to get up and turn on the stereo.

"Justice," said the Nightcrawler.

Something strange had come over Miranda and LaCroix
this past month. Natalie had no idea what had happened
between the ancient vampire and his young mortal
bride--perhaps it had something to do with Nick,
perhaps not--but whatever it was, the two were no
longer speaking. In fact, Miranda had gone so far as
to move out of the Raven altogether. She had taken up
residence at the Eidolon, leaving LaCroix and the boys
behind. With what little energy she still possessed,
Natalie's heart went out to LaCroix. She had seen
firsthand how deceptive a vampire's chilly exterior
could sometimes be, what surprisingly fragile
creatures they were in matters of the heart. She knew
that his love for Nick and his love for Miranda might
be different, but they were equally as deep, and to
have both the objects of that love be in jeopardy--at
the same time--must be torture for him. Not that he
would ever admit it...

"Is it justice that a man should suffer because he
tries to make a better life for himself? Is it justice
that a man who is foolish, and well-intentioned, and
ideological, and good-hearted, should die for his
mistakes? Shall Fate be denied, and his ultimate
destiny never achieved?" The Nightcrawler was silent
for a moment, and if his devoted listeners didn't know
better, they might have thought they heard him
swallowing a lump in his throat.

"Is it justice? Yes. When the gods wish to punish us,
they answer our prayers."

Natalie turned off the stereo with a sharp click.





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (2/?)

As she had every night for the past month, Tracy
Vetter went to the Corvina on her break. She bought a
mug of blood and drank it quietly in the corner. Then
she climbed the stairs to the clinic.

"Hey Nick," she greeted her partner, sitting down in
the chair by his bed. 'Bed' was really too common a
word for the horizontal prison of metal and plastic
that Nick had been placed in. He was hooked to
modified versions of heart monitors and other machines
that Tracy couldn't name. An oxygen tube ran down his
throat, and a drip bag fed a constant trickle of
medicated blood into his arm. His thick blond hair was
starting to grow back, a month after the surgery on
his brain stem, and the swelling in his face had
finally gone down enough to allow the doctors to
remove the stitches. Tracy took Nick's uninjured hand
in hers and held it, closing her eyes and searching
for some sign that Nick was really somewhere inside
this battered form.

There was nothing. For a month, there had been
nothing. Tracy sighed. "Well, we finally got that
warrant for Martin Belarusse that you'd been pushing
for. Taylor and I are going to get him tonight. You
remember, I told you about Taylor. Reese assigned him
to me as a temporary partner. He's green as grass, a
real cocky son of a bitch... he's not bad, though.
Knows the book pretty well, even if he doesn't like to
follow it. Reminds me a bit of you. But, yeah. In a
few hours, Belarusse will be in custody. And it's all
thanks to you, Nick. You'll probably get another
commendation for this one. You'll deserve it."

She squeezed his hand, without response.

Tracy had cried a lot in the last month. With Natalie,
with Kai, with Julian. She had cried for a man who was
her partner, her friend and her grandfather. She had
cried for herself, for Nick's wife. For his Family.
For everything that Nick was, and would never be.

But she didn't cry now. It wouldn't do either of them
any good.

She suddenly had a flashback of Vachon, sweating blood
in the throes of the Fever, and then again of his
slack, expressionless face as she held his lifeless
body.

Julian had told her that Nick's healing process was
progressing very slowly, and that it was not uncommon
for critically injured vampires to enter periods of
long hibernation, lasting anywhere from months to
centuries.

"You can't pull a Rip Van Winkle on us here, Nick,"
Tracy told him. "Reese is gonna expect you in court
for Belarusse's trial. And I need you to come back
before I do something to Taylor that he'll regret."
She didn't feel she had to mention what would happen
to Natalie if he died, or stayed in a coma
indefinitely.

"Well... I need to get to work." She patted his limp
hand. "Have a good night, Nick. I'll stop by
tomorrow."

***

Reese dropped an official-looking document on Tracy's
desk. "Well, there it is," he said. "Arrest warrant
for Martin Belarusse." Rookie detective Ian Taylor
could barely contain his excitement--his first
sting!--but Tracy was subdued. "How's Nick?"

"About the same. They took the stitches out of his
face, so he's starting to look more like himself. But
no reflexes, no responses. Nothing."

Reese nodded. "And Natalie? How's she doing?"

"She's coping."

"I just worry about her. Not having any family to turn
to..."

"Nick's family's been really great to her," Tracy said
quickly. "They're taking care of her." Reese's
expression said that he clearly was not convinced.
"She's not alone, Captain. Nick's stepmother has been
spending a lot of time with her."

***

Miranda curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee,
happily shapeless inside a big sweater. "You really
ought to go back to work," she said to Natalie. "You
need to do something to--"

"To take my mind off Nick, I know." Natalie knotted
her fingers in her long chestnut hair. "But I can't
stop thinking about him." She rubbed the back of her
head fretfully. "My mind feels so empty without him."

"I know the feeling," Miranda murmured. Then, "Not
take your mind off Nicolas. Just do what the rest of
us are doing: find something to take your mind off his
condition. Étienne has thrown himself into restoring
the Eidolon--he says he wants it to be ready for New
Year's, and his kids are helping him. Alexei has his
dog, of course, and Daniel seems to be coping,
although I don't like to think just how. Dad's working
non-stop to get the Corvina's books in order; it looks
like his last assistant, Rebecca, was embezzling money
from the store. Janette is busy opening another
club--"

"What about the Raven?"

"She sold it to Lucien, remember? And it looks like
he's keeping it. Although," she grinned, "I think
Miklos is going to go with Janette when she opens.
He's got style, that man, and the Raven has turned to
serving a more prurient class of vampire in the past
few years."

"Are there enough vampires in Toronto to support two
clubs?"

"Not as many as there were in '96, thanks to the
Fever. But there is still a good-sized population. And
the Raven lost a lot of its more high-class patrons
when Lucien took over; odd, considering his own love
of high culture... But I think she's planning a more
subdued atmosphere for her new establishment." Miranda
paused. "Someplace for Nicolas to unwind when he gets
out."

Natalie nodded, and concentrated on her coffee.
"Miranda... do you mind if I ask you something
personal?"

Her friend smiled lopsidedly. "You want to know what
happened between me and Lucien." She sighed. "It's
private. And that's really the problem. He... got hold
of some very private letters, from an old friend, and
then neglected to ask me directly about them. Instead,
he started prowling around behind my back. He was
questioning Alexei and Daniel--he even called down to
Black Falls! He didn't find out anything, but..."
There was so much more wrong with her husband,
problems that she was certain stemmed both from
Nicolas and from Tenebres. Miranda waved her hand
futilely; she could not find words. "Beyond that, the
problem is <him>."

Natalie chuckled. "So, you need something to keep your
mind off Nick <and> LaCroix?"

"I've discovered chemistry really is good for
something! I've been working out a lot... swimming."
She smiled wanly. "Nothing really works. You should
still try it, though."




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (3/?)

"That's your prognosis, then," LaCroix snapped,
rolling down his sleeve. "'Not good.'"

Dr. Jonathan Russell, securely packing away the bags
of blood LaCroix had donated, was undeterred by the
Old General's rancor. "That is what I said, Mr.
LaCroix. My colleagues agree with me in this; your
son's condition is not good. It is steadily improving.
However, knowing Nicholas's history--his attempts to
regain mortality, and I understand that he has
seriously contemplated suicide--I may privately say
that I think his chances of recovery are slim to
none."

"Then you don't know Nicholas as well as you think,
<Doctor>," LaCroix said pointedly, then swept out of
the clinic. Russell's black eyes narrowed.

He checked his patient's vitals, refilled the blood
bag and put a fresh catheter into Nick's arm, and then
went into 'the physicians' lounge,' doing his best to
ignore the grey-haired man who followed him.
"Congratulations, Russell," Leif drawled. "You've
survived the Roman Gauntlet." Tall and lanky, with
shoulder-length blond hair, Dr. Leif Rimer was even
more of an anomaly than Russell was: an
Enforcer-employed physician, whose version of the
Hippocratic Oath was less 'Do no harm' and more 'Do no
harm at the office.' His eyes, one blue and one brown,
were humorous and sly.

"LaCroix is a terror," proclaimed Julian, fiddling
with the coffee machine he had 'borrowed' from the
shop on the first floor. "Poor Nick. I'd kill myself
if I had a master like that."

"You don't know how lucky Nicholas is to have a master
like that," snapped Russell suddenly. "I have known
vampires with masters far more brutal than Lucien
LaCroix. LaCroix demands, and his fledglings
eventually capitulate because they know in the long
run, they can't win. But these others... They demand,
and then they take, and then they discard." He looked
Julian up and down. "But then, you wouldn't know
anything about that... would you?"

Julian growled at the lilim.

"Easy, now, Doctor," warned Liam O'Neal.

"This is a private area, Inspector," Russell ground
out, "for physicians only. So unless you have a
medical degree tucked away somewhere, last I checked
you were a body guard. So. Go find a body."

"He's not a body yet." Liam kept his face straight and
his voice even. "And I've found that th' best way t'
guard someone against a potential enemy is to stick
<very close> to the enemy. Would ye not agree?"

"Let it go, Jonathan," Leif cautioned. "He's just
doing his job."

"Don't you have a mate to tend to or something?"

"She's not me mate; she's me partner. And th' last <I>
checked, ye were not the boss o' me." Liam squeezed
into the tiny room, closed the door, and then leaned
on it. "Now. Ye have a patient to discuss?"

Russell eyed the Hunter with barely contained fury,
and then turned to Leif. "Knight's progress is slow,
even for such a critically injured vampire, would you
agree?"

Leif nodded, waiting for Russell to elaborate.

"It seems to me that his injuries are so
severe--coupled with the unfamiliar injuries to his
brain--that they are causing his body to shut down."

"You think he's in danger of slipping into a state of
hibernation?"

"Yes."

Leif nodded. "I've been thinking the same thing. It
might be the best thing for him, considering the
severity of his condition." He sighed, leaning one
thin cheek on a slim hand. "But if we were to allow
it, nothing would be able to wake him until he was
completely recovered. That could take years; even
decades." <Tenebres wouldn't like that,> he
deliberately broadcast to Liam.

"Natalie wouldn't like that much," said Julian dryly.
The Hunter, hearing both declarations, nodded his
agreement.

"We've been feeding him his master's blood to stave
off that possibility, but it will only delay the
hibernation temporarily. What he really needs," Leif
decided, "is blood from a flesh-and-bone relative. A
parent or a sibling. Or a child."

"Which is impossible," Julian finished. "Nick's almost
eight hundred years old. Both parents and any siblings
are long since dust."

"We could always examine Dr. Lambert," Leif mused, and
lifted an eyebrow at his colleagues. "I could easily
cultivate the necessary blood culture from a healthy
fetus."

"The only problem being, Natalie isn't pregnant."
Julian handed Leif a mug of some red-brown sludge. "Or
if she is, she can't be more than entering her first
trimester."

"In either case," Russell decreed, "we don't have the
luxury of time. Every night that passes, Knight is in
greater danger."

Leif tasted the gunk in his cup; surprisingly, it
didn't seem deadly. "Hmm. Then what do you propose,
Jonathan?"

Methodically, Russell outlined his course of action.
Leif was impressed; he'd never heard of this procedure
before, and liked the sound of it. But Julian was
incredulous.

"I hope you realize, Doctor, the folly of using an
untested procedure like this on such a seriously ill
man."

Russell turned his icy stare on Julian. "Unlike you,
<Doctor>, I do not use untested methods on my
unsuspecting patients." Julian's expression was stony.
"This treatment has been <fully> tested, on
knowledgeable, <willing> volunteers." He lowered his
voice to a venomous hiss. "You may think that your
activities have gone unnoticed by the rest of our
colleagues. You have been unchallenged, yes, but by no
means unnoticed. You are protected for the moment by
Kai, by your bloodline. Enjoy it while you may...
Doctor."

Through it all, Leif Rimer and Liam O'Neal only
watched, and listened. Finally Leif said, "If you plan
on going through with this procedure, Jonathan, I'll
back you up. But I think it only prudent for you to
run this by his Family first."




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (4/?)

Natalie broke off her conversation with Miranda when
she heard the lift start up. Both women waited,
listening. Only a few people had the codes to Nick's
building, but he didn't change them nearly enough;
unwanted intruders had gotten into his 'Fortress of
Solitude' before. Miranda closed her eyes, and then
opened them, relaxing.

"It's Dad," she announced.

Kai Thorn stepped off the elevator, brushing snow from
his shoulders. His face was grayer than usual, and
haggard. He unwound the scarf from his neck, tugged
off his gloves and draped his overcoat on one of the
kitchen chairs. "Natalie," he greeted her with a small
smile, gently kissing her cheek. His daughter he
enfolded in a strong hug. "Hey, Blue-Eyes." <Did you
do it?>

Miranda grinned. "Hey yourself, Bluestone," and she
gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. <I burned
them. Every last letter.>

"Ouch," complained Kai, rubbing his shoulder. "You've
been in Étienne's weight room, haven't you?" <Good.
The less evidence, the better things will be all
round.>

"She's been bored," Natalie explained wryly.

Kai smiled, and dug into his pocket. "I have something
for you," he said, pulling out a mass of white tissue
paper. From the ruffling snowy layers, Kai pulled out
a blue and gold piece of jewelry. Natalie let out a
small gasp.

"Nick's ring... Kai, you found it." Natalie clutched
the cabochon sapphire ring she had given her husband
for Christmas. Nick had not been wearing any jewelry
when Bridget had pulled him from the Cadillac, and
Natalie thought it had all been destroyed.

Kai grinned. "Well, see, I called Myra Schanke, and
she gave me the name of her second cousin's husband or
something who had fixed Nicholas's whale of a car once
before. And about two, three weeks ago, he called me
and said that he'd found a round blue jewel under the
brake pedal. The band had completely melted off, but
the sapphire didn't seem to be hurt any. I know a
gentleman down in Binghamton who works in silver and
goldsmithing, so I had him repair it. Needs to be fit
for Nicholas to wear, after all."

Natalie shook her head. "Kai, thank you. I..." She
trailed off when Kai stuffed the tissue back into his
pocket and held out two more pieces of jewelry out to
her. A small silver cross and a larger gold one, both
on thin chains. She took them lovingly. "Thank you...
so much. Did, um, did your--?" Natalie broke off,
sniffling. "Did your friend have to repair these,
too?"

"No, actually." Kai stroked the gold Jerusalem cross
with a bony finger. "They were not damaged at all. I
don't know how it happened, but... Julian had to
remove them from Nicholas's chest. They were embedded
in his skin. He's got another pretty pair of scars."
He chuckled humorlessly. "Russell found them. He
nursed a burned hand for an hour or two afterward."

"But Dad--how could that happen? Did Nicolas's body
just--engulf the crosses?"

"That is what it looks like. I don't know how." Kai
shook his head and sighed. "Always has to one-up me,
does Nicholas." He raised an eyebrow. "I only had mine
tattooed on."

Kai's joke, and his obvious determination that Nick
was going to pull through, lightened Natalie's dark
mood considerably, and she grinned. The phone rang,
and Miranda picked it up. "Knight residence. Yes? Yes,
Liam, she's here." She held out the receiver.
"Natalie, it's for you."

***

LaCroix handed the phone back to Miklos. So the
doctors had a new idea to try on Nicholas. Wonderful.
The lilim and Tenebres's pet doctor--Julian appeared
to be completely out of the picture at this point. The
General sipped his drink irritably. Russell really did
make one's skin crawl, and the new doctor... Leif...
No, LaCroix didn't know what to make of him. Like Kai,
and Tenebres, LaCroix felt at a loss next to him.

He did not like it when he felt at a loss.

The only time he enjoyed giving up control was with
Miranda, and that generally had nothing to do with
important Family decisions. But now she was gone, so
he was not only at a loss; he was at a loss and alone.
Gingerly, he reached out to try and touch his wife's
mind. <Miranda?>

Nothing.

LaCroix scowled.

At the very least, the physicians had asked him to a
consultation and discussion of his son's overall
condition and this new treatment. He was comfortable
with the request. Nicholas was his son--<his> son--and
LaCroix knew what was best for him. Granted, he didn't
know anything about modern medicine, but Natalie would
be at the clinic as well. He trusted her judgment. She
could translate for him.

He didn't mind accepting help--when he asked for it.
But he did not need anyone's help to decide what was
best for his Family, or himself.

***

Together, LaCroix and Natalie climbed the stairs to
the clinic. Somehow, those two flights of stairs got
longer and longer every time she had to mount them.

She could feel LaCroix's eyes on her. Natalie turned
and met his gaze, but the ancient vampire only
continued to look at her. She decided that he wanted
to say something to her, but wasn't quite sure how.
<Now that's something you don't see every night,> she
thought wryly. <LaCroix, at a loss for words.>

They stopped in front of the clinic's door. Obeying a
sudden, hair-brained impulse, Natalie grasped
LaCroix's hand and briefly squeezed it, before pushing
open the door. LaCroix looked at her sharply, but said
nothing.

"Dr. Lambert," said Russell by way of greeting. "Mr.
LaCroix." He smiled sardonically. "A pleasure, as
always." He led them into his office, where Leif and
Julian were waiting for them.

"Is there a point to this excursion, Russell? I seem
to remember allowing you to poke holes in me once
already this evening."

"If you would have a seat?" Natalie took note of the
British vampire's clipped tone and sat down. Russell
scrutinized her with his bottomless black eyes.
Finally, he said, "Your husband is trying to enter
hibernation. We can't allow that."

"But you can't stop it." LaCroix was quite certain of
that. "I have known vampires to enter such states and
not wake up for decades. Centuries, even." Or not wake
up at all, he thought very quietly, remembering
Cassius.

"It can be stopped, LaCroix," said Julian quietly.
"Normally, we would try and find a close mortal
relative to use as a blood donor. A parent or a
sibling. Or a child." He looked at Natalie suddenly.
"Sorry to be blunt, but you wouldn't happen to be
pregnant, would you, Nat?"

Natalie started. "No," she answered after a moment.
"No, I'm sure I'm not."

Julian sighed and looked at Russell. "Well, then, I
guess we're doing it your way." Russell nodded. He
pulled up a chair and sat across from Natalie and
LaCroix.

"Almost every vampire still possesses human bone
marrow. Our bodies produce normal blood; the so-called
'vampire virus' is actually housed and produced by the
heart--another reason for the singular importance of
that organ. The virus attacks fresh blood as it is
ingested, and as it is processed and cleaned and
filtered, it is re-impregnated with the V-cells that
are present in the heart. The bone marrow produces
new, normal blood cells, the heart takes them and
alters them."

Natalie nodded, understanding. "So then, what do you
plan to do?"

"Since he has no close living relatives, I will take
bone marrow from your husband, clone it, and use <his
own blood> to strengthen him. I've tested this
procedure, Dr. Lambert, and it has been successful.
All I need is your permission to proceed."

She shared a long look with her 'father-in-law.' "How
great is the risk?"

"Minimal," Russell assured her. "We go in and take
marrow from his uninjured leg. He's strong enough now
to withstand the operation."

"You said 'almost every vampire.' What are the chances
that Nick falls into the other category?"

"Absolute zero."

"You're certain?"

"Indeed. Even in the most ancient of vampires, there
is still a minute amount of fully human bone marrow
left. There are some exceptions, of course, such as
vampires like Drs. Rimer and Gorey here, who have been
vampires since birth..." Julian stiffened violently.
Natalie and LaCroix were in shock. Leif only closed
his eyes. Russell, for his part, seemed oblivious. "So
your husband is clearly a good candidate for this
surgery... I'm sorry; did I say something wrong?"

His cold dark eyes gleamed in triumph.





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (5/?)

The expression in Julian's brown eyes was panicky and
frightened, but Leif was calm. "Was that really
necessary, Jonathan?"

Russell refused to acknowledge that he had done
anything cruel. "I merely answered Dr. Lambert's
question."

"That's why crosses don't bother you," Natalie said
slowly.

"And why you have such a faint odor." LaCroix's mind
flew back to January, when he had shared a van with
Julian Gorey for several hours. "<And> why you can
walk in the sun--"

"That's an artificial chemical compound," Julian
interrupted sullenly. "Never gave it to Nick 'cause it
only works on... on us."

As a simple human, Natalie was in stunned disbelief.
As a scientist, Natalie was fascinated. "This is
incredible... How else are you different from, er,
average vampires?"

Julian did not take kindly to being the specimen under
study, but Leif wasn't fazed at all. "Hmm. Well, no
discernable scent, no fear of holy paraphernalia...
We're more susceptible to extremes in heat and cold
and... we don't float."

"Float?"

"That's right."

"Hang on. The average vampire floats?" She looked to
LaCroix for confirmation.

"A more accurate description is 'Vampires don't
sink.'"

"Your average vampire, as you say, is incredibly
buoyant." Leif gave her a quirky grin. "That's why
they're such exceptional swimmers--it's almost
impossible to drown a vampire."

"How did you think Nicholas got off the Titanic?"
LaCroix asked her, amused. "That he simply zoomed off
the deck?"

"You're saying he <swam> away?"

"Not exactly. He went down with the ship, so to speak,
and ended up in the freezing water with all the other
survivors. He swam until he was out of sight of the
wreck, and then flew off."

"Wow..." Natalie shook her head. "Okay, um... back to
Nick."

Russell shrugged. "I've said everything I need to--"

"You can say that again."

"--all that remains is for you to give me permission
to proceed."

The brief levity dissipated quickly. Natalie touched
LaCroix's arm and nodded at the door.

Once in the hallway, she asked him, "What do you
think?"

"My opinion of the procedure has very little merit
here, Natalie. That is your business."

"I mean Russell."

"We've trusted him this far. Granted, Dr. Gorey does
not seem to have a great deal of faith in him."

Natalie glanced at the examining room door, edged
closer to LaCroix and whispered, "Kai doesn't have a
whole lot of faith in Julian anymore." A dark eyebrow
went up. "Leif works for the Enforcers, and they've
sent Nick bodyguards. They must want him alive if
they're going to this much trouble."

LaCroix's lips curled in an inaudible snarl. But in
the end, he nodded. He had no choice, and that galled
him.

They returned to the doctors. "You have our
permission, Dr. Russell," said Natalie formally.

"Thank you." He turned to his colleagues. "Let's get
to work." Leif nodded, almost eagerly, but Julian
shook his head. With a heavy, disappointed sigh, he
left the room, saying only, "I have other work to do."

***

On his way out, LaCroix spotted Kai at the front
counter, conversing with Manager #3: Nire. He stopped
to speak with his grandson and father-in-law. He
leaned on the counter behind Kai, who must have sensed
him but did not turn around. "Did you know?" LaCroix
asked, a highly unnecessary question from his point of
view: Kai was closer to Julian than anyone, even
Tracy.

The pale blond vampire ignored him. Annoyed, LaCroix
grabbed Kai's shoulder. Kai stiffened. "LaCroix," he
said calmly, "<let> <go>."

Perhaps foolishly, LaCroix did not. Kai looked at his
grandfather's hand, almost lazily.

A sudden electric shock snapped up LaCroix's arm,
making him jerk back. He stared at his hand in
suspicion, a low snarl rumbling in his throat.

Kai caught his gaze and held it. "Don't mess around in
Miranda's affairs," he warned. "She is not to be
trifled with. And Elijah is not a man to be tempted."

Unnerved by the look in Kai's grey eyes, LaCroix left
the Corvina.

***

Tenebres dropped quietly into Kai's dark office behind
the bookcase. He found his colleague with his chin in
his hand, a letter on the desk in front of him. He
barely looked up at the ancient Enforcer. "LaCroix's
nerves are about shot," Kai said quietly. "You must
have given him one hell of a talking to last month."

"I told him what he needed to know. What he wanted to
know, in fact."

"But not at all what he wanted to hear, I'll wager."
Kai looked up. "Sit down?"

"No, thanks."

"Drink?"

"I'm on duty." Tenebres scrutinized his former
employee. "You look... thin, Nikaila. Very thin."

Kai considered that thoughtfully. "I think that that
is a very accurate description of my state of being,"
he decided.

"You told Nicholas?"

"I said I would."

"How did he take it?"

"Which? That I used to work for you or that you're
LaCroix's uncle?"

"That I'm Family."

"He was shocked. But I think he was relieved to know
why you gave him such a face ache at the wedding. He
promised not to tell anyone. Honestly, I don't think
he gave it much thought." Kai's smile was ashen. "He
did have more on his mind at the time."

"Hmm." The dark eyes stabbed at him. "Something...
troubles you."

Silently, Kai handed the Enforcer the letter he had
gotten from Elijah. Tenebres read it, and swore. "What
am I going to do?" Kai whispered. Tenebres sat down
across from him. "I'm going to have to tell someone."

The Enforcer looked up swiftly. "Why? We decided long
ago that the fewer people who knew, the better."

Kai acted as though he had not heard. "She can protect
herself... but not to the extent she would need to if
any of the lilim decided to come after her." He
scrubbed a hand through his pale blond hair. "Six
people, including myself, know about Miranda. You,
Matthew and Kara, Julian... and Elijah. You and
Matthew and Kara, you all see the bigger picture. You
have responsibilities; you can't compromise them for a
single mortal woman. Julian is... well..." Tenebres
nodded his understanding. "And Elijah is only one man,
and utterly alone."

"What about Nicholas? You have trusted him with other
knowledge."

But Kai shook his head. "Nicholas is impulsive.
Impetuous. He might kill someone if she scraped her
knee. No, not Nicholas. Natalie."

"Natalie," Tenebres repeated, pursing his lips. "Is
that wise?"

"She is the most level-headed person in the Family at
this point." Kai ticked off the other members of his
Family. "LaCroix is not at his best right now; I won't
put anymore stress on him. Janette has her hands full
with Jesse, Étienne is a wreck, Tracy's too young and
everyone else is out of the country. So who's left? I
need someone with connections in the Community who can
take care of her welfare if something happens to me
sooner than I expect it to."




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (6/?)

Natalie threw aside the book she was pretending to
read and picked up the ringing phone. "Natalie?"

"Janette?" Natalie was startled. "What's wrong?"

"I need your help."

"What's happened?"

She heard a heavy sigh, helpless and aggravated.
"There's been a minor accident here. Miklos has a
sideful of splinters and is in need of a surgeon."

"You're at the Raven?"

"Non. The Black Madonna. My new establishment."

"Uh, yes. Yes, Miranda told me about it. Listen, how
do I get there?" She scribbled down the directions.
"Give me twenty minutes." Natalie threw on a pair of
shoes, pulled her hair into a scrunchie, grabbed her
bag of tricks and ran down the stairs.

Even with the snow, it took her less than twenty
minutes to find Janette's nightspot-in-progress; it
turned out to be barely five miles from Nick's
warehouse. Janette, dressed in practical jeans and
sweater, met her just inside the door. "What
happened?" Natalie asked briskly, following Janette
upstairs. The upper living level up the Black Madonna
was very large and spacious, but sparsely furnished.

Janette paused outside a bedroom door and tiredly
pushed some locks of hair out of her eyes. "He was
working in the basement, getting some of the spare
rooms ready. Apparently--one of the others told me, I
wasn't there--he was removing some badly splintered
wall struts, getting ready to replace them, when one
of them fell on him. He lost his balance and fell."
She opened the door for Natalie.

The dark-haired Hungarian was lying on his uninjured
side, a large pad of blood-stained cloth covering his
right torso. Janette knelt down by the bed. "Miklos,
Natalie is here. You know Natalie?" Miklos grunted.
"She will help you."

A moment, then Miklos lifted his arm over his head,
allowing Natalie access to his wound.

Natalie pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and
carefully peeled away the makeshift bandaging.

If Miklos had been mortal, the whole side of his torso
would have been angrily infected. As it was, it was
bad enough; the flesh was red and irritated, though
not infected, and minute rivulets of blood were still
actively trickling. Natalie got out her tweezers. As
she worked, she noticed that some of the flesh around
the wound was torn; she guessed that someone had tried
to remove the splinters with their bare hands, and
pulled too hard. Possibly even Miklos himself.

There were a lot of splinters. Miklos was silent
throughout the operation, permitting himself only an
occasional deep grunt or hiss through his clenched
teeth, but the thick red sweat stood out very
prominently on his forehead before Natalie was done.
Janette stayed with her friend throughout.

Finally done with the splinters, Natalie carefully
cleaned the massive abrasion. Some parts--mainly where
the wood had actually punctured--were deeper than
others, and she took extra care with these. Then she
spread antibiotic ointment over the wound, as a
precaution. "Okay, I need you to sit up." She set a
sterile pad against his side and quickly wrapped clean
bandages around his torso. "All finished." Miklos lay
back down, sighing.

"Thank you," he said gruffly.

Natalie walked around into his field of vision. "Feed
regularly," she instructed, "rest, and no more
construction work for at least two days."

Miklos looked up at her from under his eyelids. "Yes,
ma'am," he said amiably. "I owe you a drink, Doctor."

They left Miklos to sleep. "Thank you, Natalie,"
Janette said gratefully. "I wanted to call you
yesterday, but he refused. Merde! Why are men so
stupid?"

"Part of their charm, I suppose," Natalie chuckled,
putting her black bag to rights. A sound in the next
room made both women look up.

"He's up," said Janette ruefully, and went to see to
her son.

Shyly, Natalie followed her. "Bonjour, petit homme,"
said Janette, leaning over the crib railing. Natalie
peered over her shoulder. Jesse was four months old
now, and strong enough to balance on his stomach and
lift his head. His blue eyes, so like Janette's,
looked up at them solemnly. His mother wrinkled her
nose. "Changing time."

Natalie watched quietly as Janette changed her son's
diaper, all the while softly talking to him. She
followed Janette into the kitchen and watched while
the vampiress began to heat a bottle of formula.
Suddenly, she blurted out, "Can I hold him?" Janette
looked up, startled, but then she smiled, and it was a
surprisingly gentle smile.

"Of course."

Carefully, Natalie took the little boy into her arms.
"It's right what everyone says," she commented, as
Jesse took companionable possession of a strand of her
hair, holding it tightly in his tiny fist. "He does
look just like you."

"Hm." Janette tested the bottle against her wrist.
"But he has his father's stubbornness. Both of them,
in fact. I hate this part--Natalie, could you test
this?" She held out the bottle pleadingly. "I can't
tell if it's too hot."

Obligingly, Natalie shifted Jesse and held out her
wrist. Janette sprinkled a bit of the warm formula
onto her skin. "Nope, perfect."

"Oh, wonderful. Perhaps I should keep a mortal around
just to do that for me." Janette hesitated, then
handed Natalie the bottle. Natalie's face lit up. She
seated herself at one end of the couch (which was the
only furniture in the living room). Jesse took his
bottle eagerly, never letting go of her hair. Janette
leaned in the doorway.

"He seems to like you. He's normally very wary of
strangers."

"It's nice to be liked."

"He knows Family." Janette's face clouded. "He hasn't
been himself entirely, since Alain went away. And now
Nicolas... He cried for hours, the night of the
accident."

Natalie couldn't think of anything to say, so she
concentrated on Jesse. His eyes were so old...

"I've been wanting to visit him," the vampiress
continued. "But that... that Russell creature... he
makes me feel terrible, and he's always there. Tell
me: how is he?"

"He's... still recovering. Slowly. Very slowly. It
wouldn't be so, bad, except..."

"Except for the silence," Janette finished. Natalie
looked up, and on the ancient vampiress's face, saw
understanding.





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (7/?)

Nick looked up from the chess board. "Something,
Nicolas?" the Boy asked.

"I... no. No, nothing. But I thought I..." He sighed,
and shook his head. "Never mind."

"As you wish." The White-Blond Boy gestured to the
board. "It's your move."

***

Leif studied the instruments intently. "Huh."

Bridget came up beside him. "What is it?"

"That's really odd... for a minute there was a spike
in the readings."

"A spike? You mean he was coming around?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But these readings are
definitely better than they were yesterday." Leif's
mismatched eyes narrowed. "Well," he drawled. "I guess
Russell really does know what he's doing."

***

Natalie dropped her medical bag on the kitchen table
and scrubbed her tired hands through her hair. The
book was still lying on the couch where she had tossed
it that morning. She picked it up and walked across
the living room and put it away. Natalie turned away
from the bookcase and promptly walked into Kai. "Eep!
Could you please warn me before you do that?"

"Natalie," he said without preamble, "there's
something I need to discuss with you." He took her
hands and drew her to the couch. His grey eyes were
unusually anxious.

She steeled herself for the worst. "Is it Nick?" she
asked calmly.

"No, nothing to do with Nicholas." Kai chewed on his
lower lip. "It's about Miranda. I need your help."

"Miranda? She was just here last night. What's
happened?" For a split second, Natalie wondered if
Miranda and LaCroix had gotten into a fist fight and
needed patching up.

"No, no," Kai shook his head, reading her mind,
"nothing like that. But there is something about her
that you don't know. That very few people know. If I
tell you, no one else can know, not even Nicholas."

"But he'll see it in my blood. How could I keep it
from him?"

"I can teach you how to block the images from your
blood. It's something I'm very good at."

"O...kaaaaay," said Natalie, not quite convinced.
"What's so special about Miranda?"

"She's... just special," he said lamely. Natalie
cocked an eyebrow. Kai was having some trouble putting
his thoughts into words. Nick had that same problem at
times; Kai had the identical look of frustration on
his face. "This is important, Natalie. I need to tell
<someone>!"

"All right, okay. I believe you. Now... just take a
deep breath, and start from the beginning." Natalie
put a friendly hand on his shoulder.

Kai closed his eyes, took a deep--if somewhat
raspy--breath, and when he opened his eyes, they were
glowing molten. Natalie froze. She liked Kai, but when
someone vamped out in front of her, she generally
started to move away. Kai grasped her wrist. "I won't
say it aloud," he whispered hoarsely, "under any
circumstances..." He trailed off, but it was clear to
Natalie what he wanted to do.

She was afraid. But she trusted Kai almost as much as
she trusted Nick. Natalie nodded her consent.

Eyes never leaving her face, Kai drew her towards him.
He pushed aside her hair and tilted her head gently to
one side. Then, with a sharp breath, he sank his fangs
into Natalie's throat.

There was a sharp, searing pain which quickly dulled
and vanished, but it was not followed by the familiar
sucking motions or the ecstatic intimacy that Natalie
was used to. Kai seemed to be channeling into her
rather than taking from her, and Natalie's brain was
flooded with an onslaught of images. It was like
watching a movie, but one playing at warp speed, and
with a garbled sound track to boot. She felt him
withdraw after a minute or two, but her vision was
still filled with the memories he had given her as she
tried to process them.

When her sight finally cleared, Natalie was gasping
for air, stunned and horrified by what she had seen,
and Kai was curled in a corner of the couch, sobbing.

"Shh. Shh." Natalie held him; he was shorter than she
was, and so wasted from his own illness that he was no
heavier than a good-sized child. "Kai, it's okay. It's
okay." When he had calmed down a bit, she asked, "Why
haven't you told her?"

"After all that she's been through, I couldn't let her
know." He shuddered with the effort of holding in a
bout of violent coughing. "But do you understand why I
had to tell you?"

"I think I understand a lot more about everything you
do," said Natalie gently. "You're an incredible man,
Nicholas T. Quartermayne."

Kai straightened and wiped his eyes. "Thank you.
Now... I'll teach you how to block."





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (8/?)

When Natalie walked into the Corvina a few nights
later, she was immediately aware of a change in the
atmosphere. She could breathe more easily, and the
clientele seemed to be happier and looser than they
had been in some weeks. "What's Kai putting in the
coffee?" she asked Nire.

The teenage manager shook her head, grinning, her
brown curls bouncing. "Not the coffee. Mr. Creepy took
the night off."

Natalie's eyebrows rose. "Russell's not here?" She
dove into her bag and pulled out her cell phone.
"Janette, it's Natalie..."

***

Kai brought Natalie a cup of the best gourmet coffee
he stocked. "That was a very magnanimous thing you
did," he said gently, sitting down beside her.

"It was the least I could do. Honestly, I hadn't
thought about the effect Russell would have on the
others... the other members of the Family," she
corrected herself. "I just thought they were all too
busy to come see him... or too upset. He doesn't
bother you or LaCroix, or Julian, or Leif."

"He bothers LaCroix very much," Kai corrected. "He
just deals with it. As for myself and my two born
friends, we make heavy use of a nerve suppressant, to
block the pain of being near a lilim. It could not be
given to Nicholas because of his condition at the
time." His thin lips twisted in a queer half-smile.
"And I wouldn't allow Julian to give it to anyone
else."

"Why not?"

"Because I do know him better than anyone else. And
because of that, I trust him with my life and health.
No one else's. That's why I wanted him off Nicholas's
case in the first place."

"Étienne seemed as distressed as Janette," Natalie
commented after a pause, sipping her coffee. "When he
came in, he looked almost... jaundiced."

Kai nodded. "He gets that way when he's very
distraught. Despite the disparity in their ages, he
and Nicholas are very close."

"Isn't Étienne only a hundred and fifty or so?"

"Roughly." Kai set down his cup. "But Nicholas is...
well..." He sighed. "Natalie, do you remember what I
told you about vampires and our sexual orientations?"

"You said you don't really have them. That it's more
preference than orientation."

"Precisely. Gender is what we are, physically. Sex is
what we feel we are, inside. And most vampires feel
rather free internally--although," he amended, "I will
say that few vampires are as uninhibited as Alain. But
that is neither here nor there.

"When Étienne was mortal, and very young, he suffered
abuse at the hands of a man in its worst form. And
throughout his life, he was shunned by his fellows,
taunted and hounded by both men and women. The
experiences left him badly scarred, and suspicious of
everyone around him. In all his breathing years, I
don't think he had more than one or two close friends,
people whom he honestly trusted.

"When LaCroix brought him across, he was as skittish
as a wild horse. He wasn't used to being in a room
with more than two people at one time, he was almost
oblivious to the concept that touch could be used to
convey more than pain. He'd been with a woman perhaps
once in his life--and he was at least fifty when he
joined the Family.

"Nicholas was the first person... the first <man>...
to show Étienne that a touch could be used to do more
than wound." Kai considered his next words carefully.
"I don't think that before that, he honestly trusted
any of us. LaCroix was his master, but... well, I
don't think I have to elaborate." Natalie smiled
wanly. "And his past wouldn't let him believe that
Shosha was actually fond of him--although she'd fallen
in love with him months before, and was desperate to
prove it to him. With Nicholas it was different. He
was given the task of strengthening the Family bond in
Étienne."

Natalie digested this little speech, as well as all
the things Kai had not said. "Nick and Étienne were
lovers?" It seemed to be a month for revelations.

Kai nodded. "But so much more than that." He tried
again. "We are immune to all but the pain of a broken
heart. And hearts can be broken by more than loss of
love. What about loss of dignity? Or self-respect? For
that is what vampires thrive on; the knowledge that we
are better than everyone else. It is the keystone of
our psychology. Take that away, and we crumble.
Nicholas knows this, for all his reluctance to admit
it.

"Nicholas taught him how to trust again."

***

"God," Nick said, looking out the window. "I'd almost
forgotten about that."

"I can promise you that Étienne never has." The
White-Blond Boy lit several candles standing in an
elaborate upright candelabrum. "Thanks to you, Étienne
was able to make a new life for himself." He raised a
pale eyebrow. "Had you forgotten about that as well?"

"I--I never thought his success was any of my doing. I
thought it was all Shosha, and his own strength of
character."

"You freed him, Nicolas. Not LaCroix, not Shosha, not
even Étienne himself. You." The Boy held out his hand
to Nick. Curious, Nick looked.

The White-Blond Boy carried a live flame in the palm
of his hand.

"How are you doing that?" Nick asked.

His host smiled, and with a flourish of his hand, made
the fire disappear.

***

Étienne Le Mort stood quietly by his brother's bed.
<This,> he thought, <is the worst part of being
immortal. Not seeing your mortal friends die, but
seeing your fellow immortals fade away, when you
thought they would live forever, as you did.>

"Have you so little faith in Nicolas's strength?"
asked Janette. "He will come back to us, mon frere. He
is too stubborn not to."

"I was only making a general statement. Nicolas will
not die." Étienne touched the back of Nick's pale,
still hand. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

Janette smiled. "You sound like LaCroix."

"Merde..." Étienne groaned. "Shoot me now."

"That was not meant to be an insult," she sulked. "Now
you sound like Nicolas."

"May I sound like myself, please, Janette?" Then he
sighed. "Nothing sounds the same anymore, not even
myself. Not with this infernal silence in my mind. I
pity Natalie; this must be a torment for her."

"Strange as it sounds, I pity her, too."

Étienne raised an eyebrow. "You? Even though she took
your Crusader from you?"

"Nicolas is my brother, my Family, and I would welcome
him to my bed as such. As you would," she added, and
Étienne nodded. "But I feel no more than that for
Nicolas, not anymore." Janette, too, stroked Nick's
hand. "And I pity Natalie for other reasons.

"She has a deep longing for a child of her own. A
child of Nicolas's. It goes deeper than even she
realizes."

"Medicine has progressed a great deal since I was a
mortal," said Étienne softly, in his musical voice.
"But not to the extent that medical intervention can
give a mortal woman a vampire's child. Should Nicolas
live--as we know he shall--and give her his child, it
will not be through these machines and chemicals."

***

Someone knocked on Miranda's bedroom door. Surprised,
she looked up from her music. "Come in."

Tal stuck his black-and-white head in. "Miri, we just
got a call from the police station. They're asking for
you."

"Me? How'd they get this number?"

Tal shrugged.

Highly taken aback, Miranda followed Tal into the
Eidolon's office. "Hello? Yes, this is Miranda
LaCroix." She listened to the voice at the other end.
"I see. I'll be there shortly." She stood there for a
minute with the receiver still in her hand, perhaps
thinking about calling someone. Whatever it was, she
apparently decided against making another call, since
she hung up the phone with a decisive click.

"I need to go down to the station," she told Tal, "and
I'm going to need some memories altered. Care to
come?"

Tal grinned. "Sure."





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (9/?)

"Come with me, Nicholas," said the White-Blond Boy.

Nick jumped up. "Is it time for me to go back?" he
asked eagerly.

"No, not yet."

"Then... what?"

"You keep saying you want someone to talk to. I've
found you someone to talk to."

With heavy trepidation, Nick followed the Boy through
the study's only door. He fully expected to find
himself standing on the plain, the wind whipping at
his face. Instead, Nick stepped into a bar.

Nothing fancy or ostentatious, just a good
working-class pub, full with the smells of old wood
and new grain. Once Nick's eyes had adjusted to the
pleasant darkness, he registered two or three men
sitting at a table, conversing happily over large
glasses of beer. The Boy nudged him. "Join them,
Nicolas. They're waiting for you."

One of the men looked in their direction, and his face
lit up. Nick recognized him instantly. "Richard," he
smiled.

"Hey, Nick!" Richard Lambert waved him over. "Come on,
have a beer." He thumped Nick on the back as he sat
down. "Listen, thank you so much for everything you've
done for Sarah and Amy. Yeah, I know all about that
trust fund you set up for her through your foundation.
Oh, and by the way, congratulations!"

"Umm, thanks. And you're welcome." Somewhat shyly,
Nick glanced at the other two men. One was a
brown-haired man with a bluff, rosy face, open and
good-natured; the other was a tall and wiry fellow
with iron-grey hair, bright blue eyes and a very
familiar smile. This one stuck out his hand. "Nathan
Lambert."

Nick gulped, and grasped the hand firmly. "Sir. Glad
to meet you."

"Yes, I'm glad to finally meet you." He eyed Nick
shrewdly. "Richie tells me you've swept my Natalie off
her feet."

Nick blushed--literally blushed.

"Well, I'm glad. She always had a hard time with
men--too intimidated by her intelligence, her
independence."

"Those're some of the things I love about her," Nick
said sincerely. Gingerly, he tasted a sip from his
glass of beer.

"That's real Guinness, that is," said Nathan.

"Good stuff." He could tell that the other man was
itching to speak to him, but he wasn't quite sure how.
Richard saw, and whispered in Nick's ear, "That's
Bobbie. Robert McDonough."

Robert. Janette's Robert. Nick held out his hand.
Robert let out a relieved breath and took it. "My
pleasure," said Nick. "I never thought I'd get the
chance to thank you. For giving Janette a little
happiness. And for giving her Jesse. He's a joy."

Robert's anxious face relaxed. "Thanks. I don't get to
see him as often as I like. And he can't see me,
obviously." He chuckled. "But I have heard Janette say
he's got your stubbornness on top of mine." He and
Nick shared a grin. "I'll thank you, now, for taking
care of Jesse when I couldn't."

And they talked, for hours on end. Just four normal
men, chatting over beer and sandwiches, playing pool
and darts (Nick won a substantial amount of money from
Nathan at darts; he took an IOU). When the White-Blond
Boy finally came back for Nick, he had made three very
good friends. He shook all their hands again.

"Listen, Nick," said Robert, "when you get back, find
that brother of yours--the fruity one, Alan or
whatever--and kick his ass for me, will you?"

Nick chuckled. "Don't say another word; I know exactly
who and what you're talking about. I'll be glad to."

Richard wrung his hand. "Nick, take care of yourself,
okay? And Nat. I don't want her left alone."

"I don't mean to. Goodbye, Richard."

Nathan Lambert brushed aside Nick's hand and took him
by the shoulders. "You and she are meant for each
other," he said simply. "I know all about you, about
what you are, and I say, who gives a damn? You're good
for her."

"Thank you, sir," said Nick sincerely. "I wish I could
have known you."

Nathan shook his head. "Her mother and I were gone
long before you and Natalie met." He smiled. "But I'm
glad to know you, Nick. If you're here much longer,
maybe I'll convince Rosie to join me."

"Rosie?" Nick had stopped asking where 'here' was.

"My wife, Rosemary. I think she'd like you, too."
Nathan gave his daughter's husband a strong hug. "Take
care, son."

"Goodbye, Nathan."

Reluctantly, Nick followed the White-Blond Boy out of
the pub, and back into the simple drawing room. Nick
sat down at the piano, absently picking out chords.
The Boy noticed his furrowed brow.

"What's the matter, Nicholas? Didn't you have a good
time?"

"Yes, but..." Nick frowned, confused. "I just thought
I might find Schanke in there. That's the kind of
place he would have liked."

The White-Blond Boy, as was his wont when Nick desired
an explanation, said nothing.

***

LaCroix was sitting alone in the empty club, nursing a
glass of blood and vodka. His senses were extended and
sharp, and he heard the back door open and close.
Muffled voices, then the zip of a vampire flying up
the stairs--Daniel--and the sound of footsteps
approaching him.

"Lucien."

"Miranda." LaCroix set down the glass so she would not
see his hand trembling. "You're finished sulking about
those foolish letters?"

"Oh, yeah, all through sulking. I burned the letters."
LaCroix looked up. "Can't have you reading too closely
into them. No more sulking. Now, I'm fuming." She
approached him slowly, blond hair and flawless skin
perfectly set off by her elegant black outfit. "What
have you been doing for the past month that you didn't
know what your son was about?"

"I have many sons."

"And a responsibility to all of them!"

LaCroix shot out of his chair. "I have told you
before! <Never> lecture me on my responsibilities to
my children! I know what they are!"

"Then take them seriously for once!" Miranda, although
a good deal shorter than her husband, stepped up to
him and looked fearlessly into his cold blue eyes.
"Would you like to know where I was tonight?"

"I am breathless with anticipation."'

"I was at the police station, removing Daniel from
official custody."

LaCroix frowned. "For what?"

"He's been shoplifting, Lucien. He says he has been
stealing from stores for a month. He's even gone back
to picking pockets. For a month, Lucien! I'm gone for
<one month> and he turns back into a juvenile
delinquent."

"Then you obviously shouldn't have left."

"Oh, no." Miranda tossed her long hair angrily. "You
are not foisting him off on me. He is your fledgling.
I'm not responsible for his upbringing or his
behavior."

Uncomfortably, for in the pit of his stomach, he knew
she was right, LaCroix brushed past her. "I have had
other things on my mind than the petty crimes of a
small child."

"Petty crimes grow into larger ones. And you know
better than anyone the potential for evil in a small
child."

LaCroix stopped dead in his tracks. "Don't you
dare..."

"Lucien, I know you're worried about Nicolas. We all
are. But that does not give you the right to ignore
those in your care! If he's really as anal about your
fledglings as you say he is, Tenebres is not going to
appreciate your behavior--"

"Don't mention that name to me!" LaCroix almost
shrieked. "You know nothing about him. Nothing! He is
conniving, manipulative and grasping and uses others
for his own purposes without their knowledge or
consent."

"Sounds like you two have a lot in common."

"I am <nothing> like him," LaCroix spat. He stalked to
her and whispered in her ear, "You have no idea what
he has done to me."

Miranda turned her head. "I'm all ears," she said
icily.

"He has bent or broken and in come cases, completely
ignored the Code, for both Nicholas and myself. He
presumes to lecture me on my duties when he ignores
his own as an Enforcer. He refuses to tell me who this
mysterious Elijah of yours is--so obviously he is a
dangerous man." Miranda laughed. "He has influenced
the councils in my favor, both that of the Elders and
of the Ancients..." LaCroix's lips curled. "He has
undermined my authority beyond repair."

His wife was incredulous. "That--<that's> what this is
about? All this pointless shit because he's been
secretive and pulling strings for you behind the
scenes?"

"I am master of my own destiny," LaCroix snarled. "I
don't need <anyone's> help! And you are my wife! I
demand that you tell me!"

Miranda all but snarled back. "That's fine by me,
<General>, but I am not going to let you invade my
privacy just so you can get your manhood back!"
Incensed, she turned to walk away from him. Equally
enraged, LaCroix grabbed her arm.

Miranda punched him.





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (10/?)

"Mr. Thorn!" someone called as Kai was leaving the
church at the end of afternoon mass. He turned to see
Father Rochefort running towards him.

"Father," Kai greeted him cordially.

"I, um, I heard about Detective Knight," said the
young priest hesitantly. "About the accident."

"Ah."

"I'm sorry. I know he's your godfather. I, I hope you
don't mind, but I've been praying for him."

Kai was deeply touched. "Thank you," he said
sincerely. "I think he would appreciate that."

"I was wondering--if it's allowed--if I might be able
to visit him in the hospital."

"He's in a private clinic. And his father isn't
allowing any visitors, outside of immediate family."

"Then, would you speak to Mr. LaCroix for me? I, I
know it's impertinent, but I-I consider Detective
Knight to be a, well, a friend of sorts, and I feel
like I owe him something."

Kai smiled. "I rather think that he is the one owing
you. As you like, Father Rochefort. I'll see what I
can do. Be warned, though, LaCroix has been in a foul
mood of late."

***

Daniel paced around the living room and cringed every
few seconds. They had been fighting non-stop all day,
and fiercely. He was surprised they were both still
alive. "Bloody 'ell," he muttered. "All this because I
nicked a few Rolexes?"

"No, all this because you nicked a few letters."
Abruptly, Daniel was in the air and flying, tucked
securely under Tenebres's arm. "Lucky for you that
Miranda knows exactly where the blame for this should
be placed."

The boy-vampire's mouth felt dry as sand. "Wh-what're
you gonna do with me?"

Tenebres looked down at him with enigmatic brown eyes.
"I'm not going to kill you. I don't kill
three-foot-vampires for picking pockets. I'm taking
you to the Eidolon until the two lovebirds are
finished beating each other to a pulp." He raised an
eyebrow. "And boy."

"Sir?"

"Don't get caught next time."

***

Dropping her weapon, Miranda scowled, spat blood and
wiped her mouth. The Raven was in shambles, and would
probably have to be closed for repairs. "Gods, what a
mess," she said, disgusted. She pressed a hand to her
side; some of her ribs were broken, she was certain.
Groaning, she hauled her unconscious husband out to
her car.

***

Natalie didn't bother turning around. "Hi, Kai," she
said nonchalantly, seasoning her stir-fry.

"Evening, Natalie," he returned in a cheerful voice.
"Would you mind abandoning your supper and coming over
to the Corvina with me?"

Natalie dropped her spatula. "Is it Nick?" she asked
hopefully.

Kai shook his head. "No, more's the pity. It's
Miranda."

"Miranda? God, what is it this time?"

Kai's grin was one of pure wicked high spirits. "She
and LaCroix got into a fist fight, and I need you to
patch them up."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope."

"Is Miranda okay?"

"Oh, Miranda's fine. Pissed as all hell, but only a
few scrapes and bruises. LaCroix needs you more than
she does; apparently, she cracked him pretty good on
the skull with a wooden chair leg." He grimaced.
"She's got a high temper when roused, my Miri." He saw
Natalie's expression and winked. "Better laugh now.
You don't want to annoy LaCroix any further."

Natalie burst into hysterical giggles, and Kai joined
her.

***

Tracy examined her plate. Thanks to her father's
insistence that she have frequent dinners with him and
his lady friend, she was actually getting quite good
at distributing food around a plate, making it look
like she was eating. <Never> had she been so thankful
to have a master like Kai, who had taught her very
quickly how to control her bloodlust around mortals.
He couldn't do anything about her discomfort, though,
at being around her father--her mortal father.

She smiled and nodded at the appropriate places in the
conversation, but her mind was elsewhere. When Nick
had first gone into the clinic, Kai had stayed away
from her bed for several weeks. After Nick had slipped
into the coma, Kai had been with her every night,
simply to hold her and comfort her while she cried.

Tracy looked up and said, "Oh, thanks, Dad," when
Commissioner Vetter congratulated her on the arrest of
Martin Belarusse. She didn't bother telling him that
Nick had done most of the leg work getting the
warrant; for some reason, the Commissioner did not
have a high personal regard for Nick Knight.
Professionally, yes. But when he was with what he
considered safe ears, he never missed an opportunity
to badmouth his daughter's partner. Even in her
hearing. It was one of many reasons Tracy had become
very good at ignoring her father lately.

All in all, she decided, she would rather spend time
with Kai.

***

Wincing, Miranda tried her best not to curse as
Natalie prodded her rib cage. "You have three broken
ribs," the doctor scolded. "Maybe four. You're lucky
you didn't puncture a lung. Kai, I'm not qualified to
do this. She needs to see a medical doctor, not a
pathologist."

Kai shrugged, went to the sink and began scrubbing his
hands. "Medicine's changed a lot since I was
certified, but I think I can still bind a few broken
ribs."

Natalie gaped at him. "You're a doctor?"

"Yes. Why so shocked? Nicholas is a physician as
well."

"An army surgeon. But that was over one hundred years
ago."

"So were my days in med school. But I can still do the
basic stuff, and broken bones are older than Adam."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "And what Dad is not saying
is that generally, he makes it a rule never to
practice on me." She grinned. "He can stand the sight
of any blood but my own."

"It's a parent thing," replied Kai, refusing to be
embarrassed. "Natalie, while I finish with this
knock-down, drag-out bruiser--" He poked his daughter.
"--would you mind going and checking on LaCroix? He's
in room number three." Natalie looked vaguely nervous.
"You're more than adept at treating vampires; more
adept than I am. Leif's busy with Nicholas, Russell's
got tonight and tomorrow off, God only knows where
Julian is. Don't worry, Nat. He's still a little woozy
from that bump on the head. He won't give you any
trouble."

The ancient Roman was lying quietly on a hospital bed,
not unconscious, but he was nowhere near lucid, and
certainly more docile than she had ever seen before.
Carefully, Natalie peeled off his jacket and silk
shirt. He was covered in bruises of not-so-delightful
colors, but these were all in various stages of
healing, so she ignored them and concentrated on the
more substantial injuries Miranda had inflicted, and
as she did so, all she could think was <I wish I'd had
a ringside seat for this fight.>

His throat was a swollen; she must have tried to choke
him... or break his neck. Natalie didn't want to
speculate. A huge lump was purpling on the back of his
skull and he had a fine slit ear, so clean it looked
like it had been sliced with a piece of glass.
<Probably a broken goblet or wine bottle,> she
decided. She lifted his head from the pillow and
probed the bump carefully, but as far as she could
tell, there was no fracture, and she was fairly
certain Miranda's makeshift club had not caused a
hematoma. That would have made her job far more
complicated. As it was, things were more than enough
fun, what with the fractured forearm, the black eye,
and the stab wound in the upper thigh. And from the
placement of that injury, Natalie fancied she could
imagine <exactly> what Miranda had tried to do.

"She really gave you a working over, didn't she,
General?" Natalie murmured, cutting away his trousers.
<That's in an awkward spot, and it looks like it might
need suturing... Oh, thank God, he wears boxers.>
Surprisingly, the knife wound was already showing
signs of a virulent infection. She finished cleaning
the small but deep wound and sewed it shut, inserting
a tube between the stitches to allow any infected
fluids to drain out. Throughout the operation, LaCroix
seemed not to be affected by the needle. She then
splinted his fractured arm, set an extra pillow
beneath his head and an ice pack on his eye, and
pondered what to do about his ear. In the end, she
left it as it was, trusting that a good feeding would
knit it back together. His throat was too swollen to
allow him to swallow, so she placed a catheter into
his arm and attached it to a drip bag of the medicated
blood that the clinic stocked.

"So, tell me, LaCroix," Natalie said conversationally,
pulling off her sterile gloves. "Did you go easy on
Miranda or did she really just beat the living hell
out of you all by herself?" The General groaned in his
chest, but could not speak.




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (12/?)

"Remind me never to cheat at poker with you," Natalie
commented, coming back into the examining room.
Miranda chuckled, and then winced; breathing hurt. Her
father helped her back into her blouse and handed her
some aspirin and a glass of water. "You came pretty
close to castrating him."

Miranda's lovely face was disheartened. "You mean I
missed? Damn!"

"Will he be all right?" asked Kai, lips twitching.

"Maybe." Natalie eyed Miranda. "Once she tells me what
she stuck him with. His leg is infected."

Kai hissed. "Shit. Miri, you didn't. On your own
husband, too."

She looked vaguely ashamed. "Spur of the moment."

He sighed. "You've got a vampire's reaction to threat,
that's for damn sure. Hold on, Natalie, I'll be back
in a minute."

When he came back, he was holding a small cut-glass
bottle, like a vinegar cruet, full of an oily green
fluid. He sprinkled an amount of this onto a pad of
gauze and handed it to Natalie. "Ugh," she grimaced.
"Smelly."

"But effective. The substance on Miranda's boot
knife--which she was told to stop carrying when she
was fourteen, I might add--is another concoction of
Julian's. That noxious ooze is the antidote. Also, the
poison is one that he created especially for her, so I
don't expect you'll encounter again."

Natalie returned to LaCroix's room. His pale eyes were
now clear, and watched her closely. She reached for
the wound in his thigh, to remove the draining tube.
As soon as her fingers brushed his skin, LaCroix
flinched. A low warning growl reverberated in his
chest. "Easy," soothed Natalie. She tried again; this
time, LaCroix's uninjured hand shot out and grabbed
her wrist, growling more loudly. He tried to sit up,
but his hundreds of bruises had all stiffened, making
sustained movement very difficult, and his hand soon
unclenched.

Slowly, Natalie drew back. She left the room briefly,
and came back with a dark green bottle. Uncorking it,
she gently held the rim of the bottle to LaCroix's
lips. The swelling in his neck had gone down enough to
allow him to swallow, slowly and clumsily, but he
drained the bottle dry. Calmer now, LaCroix allowed
Natalie to bandage the antidote to his leg. "What was
that?"

LaCroix swallowed, and licked his lips. "I said, among
other things, 'ouch.' Another, please."

"Take some friendly advice, LaCroix," Natalie offered,
holding a second bottle for him. "Since Miranda has
more sense than most people, the next time she decides
to keep something private... listen to her, please. I
don't exactly get a thrill out of repairing your
testicles." LaCroix promptly turned whiter. "So it's a
good thing she didn't damage them."

"You are a devious fiend, Doctor," said LaCroix with a
wry smile, a minute amount of color returning to his
face. "How is Nicholas?"

"So-so." Natalie sighed. "You'll need to sleep the day
here."

"Is Miranda here?"

"Yes."

"If... she will consent, I would like to see her."

"I'll see if she's up to it."

"Thank you."

***

Standing stiffly in the doorway, Miranda regarded her
husband's vulnerable form consideringly. Her own end
of their bond was still heavily shielded. But... it
seemed to her that she could feel his defenses
weakening, although whether by accident or design, she
couldn't say. "You summoned me, Master?" she said
glibly.

LaCroix turned his head a fraction; the swelling in
his eye and throat had vanished, and his slit ear had
healed nicely. "If I were your master in truth, my
dear, I might have tried much harder to give as good
as I got."

"Please, Lucien. Don't be so vain."

"I wouldn't have succeeded. But I would have given the
matter greater effort." He flexed the fingers of his
bandaged arm experimentally. Another hour or two, he
estimated, before it was fully knitted. "I struck out
in anger," LaCroix admitted quietly. "Something I...
try to avoid doing. For that, I apologize."

"Well... that's something, anyway. All right, I
accept." Miranda raised an expectant eyebrow. "Is that
all?"

"What more do you want from me, you blasted woman?"
asked LaCroix angrily.

"I want you to say, 'Miranda, I'm sorry I rummaged
around in things you didn't want me to see. I'm sorry
I pried into your personal life. I'm sorry I took out
my anger on you and I'm sorry I abused your trust. I
was wrong.' I want you to say all of that, Lucien. All
of it. Or I'm not coming back."

LaCroix lay back against his pillow, muscles in his
cheek twitching furiously. "If you would just <tell>
me..."

"It's the past, General, nothing more. He's not an old
boyfriend, he's not an ancient enemy of Kai's, he's
nothing but a family friend who's had a difficult
life."

"That... that's it?"

"Yes," said Miranda testily.

"Then why didn't you tell me that before?!"

"Because it was none of your goddamn business!" she
flared. LaCroix winced. "And because for some asinine
reason, you never bothered to ask me, did you?"

LaCroix opened his mouth, ready with an angry retort.

<<She may tell you, she may not, but I will tell you,
her anger at your prying will be nothing compared to
her fury if she finds out from any source other than
your lips. I know her of old, Lucius--she is not to be
trifled with.>>

He closed his mouth. "No," he said softly. "I did
not." LaCroix held out his hand to his wife.
Haltingly, Miranda came away from the door, and
allowed her small hand to be enfolded in his large
one. "I was wrong," he admitted, eyes trained on her.
"And I am... I'm sorry."

Miranda took a deep breath. She searched his face, and
then released her mental barriers.

Both gasped, and then fell silent, as they eagerly
reaccustomed themselves to the memories and
passageways of each other's minds. There were still
places in Miranda's psyche that LaCroix was not
allowed access to, just as there were things in his
consciousness that he had no wish for her to see, but
he had always respected her mental privacy. Now, if he
was going to keep her, he would have to respect her
personal privacy as well.

He broadcast waves of love and reverence at her, and
she took them and wrapped herself in his affections
gladly. But she shied away when he projected his
continuing desire for her, and LaCroix pulled back,
burying his hurt. He had spoiled his relationship with
Miranda more than he had imagined.

<What have I done?>





All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (12/?)

Kai waited until his daughter was in LaCroix's room
and involved before punching the intercom button and
having his guest brought up from his office. The
priest was completely bowled over by the hidden
clinic, but he obeyed Kai's injunction to keep silent,
so as not to disturb 'the other patients,' and
followed him to Nick's room.

"Not quite what you were expecting?" inquired Kai.

"I thought... Actually, I didn't know what to expect."
Rochefort turned his gaze from Nick to Kai, and then
hurriedly looked down at his Bible. Being in Kai
Thorn's presence was a strange experience, but looking
into his eyes was simply unnerving. The clear grey
eyes seemed to see straight through into Pierre's very
soul, and the light and warmth radiating from him was
both calming and confusing. Then he would shake his
head, and the almost saintly man once again became
Father Rochefort's ailing parishioner. Fumbling with
his book, he cast about for something to say.

"What are all these?" Father Rochefort asked,
marveling at the myriad of trinkets covering Nick's
bedside table.

"Tokens of health and good wishes, from family."

"There's so many!"

Kai shrugged. "It's a big family." The bulk of the
well-wishers had left small wooden boxes or velvet
pouches. Kai knew what they contained: crosses.
Crosses from all divisions of Christianity as well as
symbols of many other belief systems, in all forms,
from very plain to very ornate. It was a curious
thing, that vampires would bring to one of their
fallen the symbols of the faiths that many of them had
sworn they had forsaken. Curious, Kai pawed through
the pile. Simply by fingering the items, he could read
the psychic impression of who had left them, and what
they believed. <Catholic, Catholic... Episcopal...
Presbyterian--that will be Leif...Baptist,
Catholic--he's got a lot of nerve, coming here!--I
think that's a Romany amulet... Russian Orthodox--poor
Alexei... Methodist... Lutheran, Episcopal,
Lutheran... Hmm, an outstretched hand in silver; an
Islamic friend... several Stars of David... Wiccan,
Baptist, Voodoo, Druidism, Episcopal--it was good of
her to come, she doesn't even know
Nicholas--Presbyterian, Presbyterian... Man has
friends he's never heard of.>

"These are horrible injuries." Rochefort felt a little
stupid, proclaiming such an obvious, insensitive
thing. But Kai did not seem offended.

"Indeed. Eyewitnesses said that the two cars collided
head-on. But the doctors tell me his injuries are more
consistent with there having been a driver's side
impact on the Cadillac. Nicholas had a seizure and
blacked out, the car swerved... and boom."

"He had a seizure?" the priest repeated, stunned. "But
he is a police officer... I, I wouldn't think that the
city would allow epileptics to perform such a delicate
job."

"Nicholas does not have epilepsy, Father Rochefort. He
had a very severe brain tumor."

"Oh! I--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

Kai waved it aside. "He did everything possible to
keep that fact from his superiors. Probably very
illegal, but then, Nicholas is and ever shall be a
very private man. Occasionally to his detriment."

"His prognosis is poor, then?" asked Father Rochefort.

"Oh, yes, very poor. Terminal, in fact. But he won't
die. He has too much on his conscience. He's afraid to
die." Kai looked up at the hidden camera in the
corner, and then looked at the priest with
consideration. Finally coming to a decision, he said,
"You have heard of the Constantine crime family?"

"Of course. Who hasn't?"

"Then you will understand when I tell you that
Nicholas, and LaCroix, and myself, are part of a
family three hundred times more dangerous than the
Constantines. Most of us consider ourselves beyond the
law. Beyond the reach of the gods... Nicholas has been
trying to leave the family for years, without success.
He has been trying to atone for all the things that he
has done. He has done things that he loathes and
things that he abhors. He has also done things that he
enjoyed, and they weigh the heaviest on his soul. He's
not a greatly religious man, not anymore. But he still
believes in God, and Satan, and Heaven and Hell. He
believes that his own heart is still too black to be
worthy of salvation. That is why I say he is afraid to
die."

Pierre Rochefort could only stare at the man in the
metal and plastic prison.

***

After Rochefort had gone, Kai ducked into the doctors'
lounge. He was soon followed by Leif Rimer, who was
looking for his bi-hourly mug of blood and coffee. "Is
there a reason you spilled so much information to that
dog collar?" Leif asked irritably as Kai flipped
through a phone book. Kai barely glanced at the
Enforcer-doctor.

"Yes. And don't call him a dog collar; it's
offensive."

Leif snorted. "He's a mortal priest? He's a dog
collar. Tenebres won't like it."

Kai glared at him. And although he had a good seventy
years on Kai, Leif's ear flushed a delicate shell
pink, and he looked away. "Kindly do not lecture me on
what Tenebres will and will not 'like,' Lewis." Leif
flinched.

"Ah, Kai..." he complained, slipping into his native
Welsh, "ye sound like me mother. 'Lewis this' and
'Lewis that.'"

The pale blond vampire glanced up from his phone book
and smiled briefly. "Don't act like a spoiled child
and I won't treat you like one. It's that simple."

"Aren't I older than you?"

Kai's snow-grey eyes shot open and stared at Leif, who
abruptly felt a burning between his eyes. He gritted
his teeth until the pain passed. Raising a hand to his
nose, Leif wasn't surprised when his fingers came away
bloody. "But I outrank you... Lewis."

***

Per sudden emergencies, most of the Family kept spare
sets of clothes at the clinic, and now Miranda helped
her husband into one of these. "You're not going back
to the Raven," she told him.

"No," he agreed. "I am going to see Nicholas. And I
refuse to wear one of those preposterous hospital
gowns."

At any other time, his wife would have made a highly
suggestive comment about the inability of hospital
gowns to cover all normally private body parts. All
Miranda said tonight was "All right."

They walked down the corridor together, LaCroix
limping slightly from the wound on his thigh. His
son's room was not yet in his line of sight, but
LaCroix knew already that Bridget was on guard outside
the door. The former detective was actually his
'granddaughter,' thanks to the Barber, but thanks to
her Enforcer training, she was almost a complete blank
to the ancient patriarch. And due to her parentage,
and her close companionship with a known Hunter,
LaCroix was reluctant to acknowledge the relationship.
Some Family just needed to be buried, and kept there.

Once outside Nick's door, Miranda released his arm.
"I'll wait out here," she said.

***

There was a shadow by Nick's bed. The shadow looked up
with glowing eyes, and motioned for LaCroix to enter.

"Why are you here, Tenebres?" asked the General
blandly.

"For my own edification, Lucius," the Enforcer
responded. And indeed, his expression as he gazed at
Nick was thoughtful. Mournful, even. "This is the
second time I have seen someone brought to their knees
by a pursuit for mortality. It makes me... almost
question my own mission for our people."

"Calceus major subvertit," LaCroix commented in a
quietly acid tone.

<Quem Di deligunt, adolescens moritur,> Tenebres shot
back, accenting the proverb with a harsh snarl. <You
will mourn for a son if he dies. I will mourn for all
of our kind.> The shadow faded, but the rumbling growl
remained in the room. The General sat down in the
chair beside his son's bed.

"You will come back, Nicholas," said LaCroix. He
reached out a hand to touch Nick's forehead but then
thought better of it. "You <must> come back. It is
your destiny. And destiny must not be trifled with."

*"Calceus major subvertit" -- An ambition too large
fails altogether.

*"Quem Di deligunt, adolescens moritur" -- He whom the
gods love dies young.




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (13/?)

A warm touch on her shoulder woke Tracy from sleep.
She looked up to see her master standing over her bed.
"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Then why'd you wake me up?" Tracy pouted, rubbing her
eyes. "You usually just get into bed."

"I didn't mean to wake you, child," said Kai gently,
caressing her cheek. "I guess I was careless." Tracy
watched as he undressed. His frame, already small, had
lost much of its compactness over the past few months,
due to stress, and the muscles of his arms and legs
had shrunk from round and hard to the rippled
consistency of steel cords. With his unhealthy grey
pallor and sunken stomach, he looked as ill as he said
he was. But Tracy knew from experiences both pleasant
and painful how misleading his apparent state of
health could sometimes be.

She settled into the circle of his arms, enjoying the
safe, familiar feeling of his lips brushing her hair
and the occasional beat of his heart beneath her ear.
"How's Nick?"

"About the same," Kai sighed. "Russell's coming back
tomorrow, so I've no doubt he'll give us his usual
doomsday prediction for Nicholas's future, but I think
he's doing better, myself."

"That's good."

Kai turned his fledgling's face so that he could see
her more clearly. "And what about you, little girl,
hmm? What's troubling you?"

"Too many dinners with my father and his girlfriend,"
Tracy grumbled.

"Ah." With delicate fingertips, Kai stroked her face
in a comforting fashion. "I had hoped that I would be
able to wait on this lesson."

"What lesson is that?"

"The importance of distinguishing between the mortal
family and the vampire family." His expression was
very serious. "Tracy, you don't have to see him
anymore if you don't want to. You can avoid him."

But Tracy shook her head. "He'd make my life a living
hell if I so much as stopped returning his phone
calls."

"And then I'd return the favor," replied Kai fiercely.
Then he winked. "You could always say you've got a new
boyfriend," he teased. "A high maintenance one."

Tracy socked him softly. "Then he'd want to meet you,
and then he'd promptly make <both> our lives
unbearable. The mortal world thinks that you're Nick's
godson, and for some reason, he loathes Nick." She
snorted. "Probably that damn vigilante streak."

"Most likely."

"And since when are you high maintenance?"

A slow, promising smile spread over Kai's face.

***

When Natalie walked into the Corvina clinic that
night, it was a few moments before she realized she
had walked past someone in the waiting room. She
turned and was suddenly eye to eye with a very, very
old vampire. "Dr. Lambert," he acknowledged her. Then
to her surprise, he stood and actually inclined his
head slightly. "I am Tenebres."

Yes, of course. She had heard Bridget and Liam and
Leif talking about him, their 'superior officer.'
Unsure just how one addressed a high-ranking Enforcer,
she lowered her eyes and murmured some non-threatening
greeting. When she looked up, Tenebres was looking her
over with a slightly appraising expression. Natalie
shivered.

"I am looking for Dr. Gorey."

"Julian? He's--he's not here. He hasn't been here for
a week, at least."

"Yes, I know. My people here cannot tell me where he
has gone, and Kai is... otherwise occupied. Do you...
have any idea where he might be?"

Natalie shook her head. "No."

As an Enforcer, Tenebres had been trained to detect
when an individual was lying. He was satisfied that
the mortal doctor was being truthful; indeed, she was
too intelligent and too well-versed in the ways of his
kind to attempt lying to one such as himself. It was
disappointing, though. Tenebres could only hope that
the little American was taking care of the assignment
he had been given.

"You were the one who took care of Lucius's injuries
last night?"

Startled by the abrupt change in topic, Natalie
blinked. "Yes. The other doctors were either busy or
away, and Kai said his medical knowledge only extended
to mortals."

"Indeed. In any case, I am grateful for the care you
gave him. He would have healed, regardless, but with
far less ease."

"He is my husband's master, and for all intents and
purposes, my father-in-law. And I'm a doctor; I can't
stand idly by while someone suffers." Natalie
hesitated. "Even if it's someone I'm desperately
afraid of," she finished softly.

Tenebres actually chuckled. "Dr. Lambert," he said in
his deep voice, "between the two men, were I you, I
would fear Kai far more than Lucius."

Natalie met his dark eyes unwaveringly. "Should I be
afraid of you, too?"

"Not until you give me a reason to frighten you," the
Enforcer assured her with a dark laugh. "You're too
valuable, you know. As for Lucius... Lucius is a
wonderful gambler. But he only guesses. He thinks he
knows what you're thinking. Kai <knows>." He bared his
long fangs in a wolfish grin. "Ask Lucius sometime why
he's so wary of Kai. If he tells you, he trusts you a
great deal, but you'll understand more about the
Family saint then Kai would willingly divulge."

"You say that like you're a member of the Family."

The Enforcer's smile faded. "Now who said I was not?"

And before Natalie could blink, he was gone.

She shook her head, fiercely. "My life just gets
weirder and weirder," she muttered. Walking down one
of the corridors, Natalie knocked softly on the door
to room number three.

"Come in." LaCroix was lying in almost the same
position she had left him in, except that now, there
was a small blond head lying on his chest. "Quietly,"
he cautioned his son's wife. "She's asleep." Natalie
squashed a smile.

"Did you two kiss and make up?"

"Something like that," he said wryly, holding out his
bandaged arm. Natalie removed the splint quickly.

"How's your leg?"

"Fully healed and functional. As is everything
surrounding it, thank you kindly." He eyed her with
his piercing blue eyes. "By the way, thank you for
what you told Tenebres."

"Damn. And here I thought these walls were
sound-proof."

"I have known for some time that you would not deny
your healing gifts to any vampire. Even to me." He
raised his dark eyebrows. "But I am grateful to know
that you still fear me."

"Really."

"Oh, yes. It's quite the ego-booster. Especially when
I reflect on this tiny morsel--" He looked down at his
sleeping wife, who was shivering slightly. "--and
precisely how I got all these injuries."

This time, Natalie did smile. "You're whole again, so
you can leave whenever you like. Or whenever Miranda
wakes up."

"Which may not be for sometime. Our epic battle seems
to have tired her."

"I can't imagine why," said Natalie dryly. She took a
blanket from the closet and draped it over the couple
in bed. Miranda immediately relaxed. "Can I ask you a
question, LaCroix?"

"You may ask."

He didn't promise to answer, she noted. And if he had
overheard her conversation with the Enforcer, he
probably already knew what her question would be, but
she asked it anyway. "Why are you and Kai on such poor
terms?"

As she had expected, the ancient Roman was silent.
Then, as he stroked Miranda's hair, he offered, "He
overcame me once. I suspect he taught her, and that is
why I lost."




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (14/?)

Natalie closed the door softly. She was walking back
to the examining room when Leif came barreling down
the hallway and scooped her up in a bear hug, swinging
her around. "Where have you been?" he asked. "I've
been looking all over for you!"

"Leif, calm down! Now breathe--is it Nick?"

"No, it's William Wallace, ye daft woman!" His
blue-and-brown eyes were full of excitement. "His
recovery has speeded up considerably since coming from
surgery. All his superficial and internal injuries
have healed and his readings are wonderful. I've been
looking for you, because I wanted to tell you not to
leave the clinic. I've set up a cot for you in his
room." Leif could not keep a giddy smile off his face.
"There's a good chance of him waking up in the next
twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

Speechless, Natalie hugged him back, hard.

***

Like the Red Sea parting, the patrons of the Corvina
all plastered themselves to the sides of the store, as
Dr. Jonathan Russell literally stalked through. The
only person not cringing as he walked by was Nire, but
even she waited until he was safely up the stairs
before sticking her tongue out at him.

Upon entering the doctors' lounge, the first question
Russell asked was "Is he dead yet?"

Bridget calmly turned a page of her magazine. "Not
yet," she answered, not looking up.

"You must be joking!"

"No. Why? Were you expecting him to die?"

"To be perfectly frank..." Russell began angrily. Then
he remembered he was speaking to an Enforcer and
modified his voice accordingly. "No, I didn't. Only,
you understand, because of the lack of... strength...
in his... character," Russell finished lamely.

Bridget raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, he's
steadily improving. Leif expects him to wake up in a
day or two."

"Ah, well then, it appears that I am no longer needed.
A pleasure," he offered insincerely, "as always."
Russell turned on his heel and walked out the door.
Bridget's hand on his chest stopped him.

"I don't think so," she said, her friendly smile
coming nowhere near her eyes. "Tenebres would like a
word."

Russell's lips pressed together. "Lead the way," he
said tightly. He followed Bridget out of the office,
and was not seen again in the Corvina clinic.

***

"Where are you going?" LaCroix asked his wife later
that night. Miranda brushed her hair briskly.

"I'm going over to the Eidolon. I need to see Daniel.
To talk to him. I didn't get to the other night. You
and I got rather... involved." LaCroix grunted. "Why
are you still here? Natalie gave you the all-clear.
You can go back to the Raven."

"Yes, but I don't want to leave Nicholas. Don't look
that tone of voice at me!" he mock-snarled at her. "I
will pay more attention to my sons than they can
stand, but when Nicholas has recovered."

Miranda rolled her eyes. She leaned over and kissed
him chastely on the forehead. "I'll see you later,"
she promised.

***

Natalie had only meant to lie down for a moment. But
the soft beep of the monitors quickly lulled her into
an exhausted sleep. When she opened her eyes, LaCroix
was suddenly standing over her cot, watching her with
his icy blue eyes. In the few moments between sleep
and full wakefulness, she thought they looked less
cold than normal.

She sat up. "What time is it?" she asked groggily,
rubbing her face.

"About ten minutes to one."

"Oh!" Quickly, she stood. "When I laid down, it was
8:15." She ran a hand through her hair. "Must've
really needed the sleep."

LaCroix hovered over her as she checked Nick's vitals.
"Any change?"

"I can't actually tell," Natalie admitted with a trace
of exasperation. "According to Leif, he's improved to
the point where he might actually wake up soon, but I
haven't seen a change. I've never encountered this in
Nick, or in any other vampire. I guess I really am an
amateur." And she laughed, although LaCroix was
hard-pressed to find any humor in it.

"You once saved this entire Community from being wiped
out," he reminded her, not realizing he had slipped
into the tone he normally reserved for his youngest
fledglings. "And you have kept Nicholas from the edge
of self-destruction. Is that really the work of an
amateur?" LaCroix then put both hands on Natalie's
shoulders, leaned down and gently kissed the crown of
her head. "I never thanked you."

"Thanked me?"

"For your advice, regarding Miranda. It was... most
wise."

"You two are back on speaking terms?"

"Speaking terms? Yes. Anything else... I have severely
compromised. But I am immortal, and she is young.
Anything else, I can wait for." Mentally, he checked
his internal clock. "The sun will be rising shortly.
You will stay with him?"

"Of course. I'll call you if there's any change. Sleep
well, LaCroix." The note in her voice, a respect that
bordered on affection, surprised them both. He
squeezed her shoulders.

"Thank you... ma fille."

LaCroix turned away. Natalie squeezed Nick's hand.

Nick squeezed back.

"LaCroix!" Natalie whispered. "Get the doctors!" But
he was already pushing her aside, taking up his son's
hand. Natalie quickly went to the other side of the
bed, gingerly touching his left hand. "Nick? Nick, can
you hear me?"

In response, Nick slowly opened his eyes and looked at
her. His beautiful cobalt eyes were tired and
confused, but they were aware. He closed them briefly.
With great difficulty, Nick turned his head to look at
LaCroix. He swallowed a few times, throat and mouth
working. Natalie and LaCroix waited. LaCroix put his
ear very close to Nick's mouth, listening.

He brushed a short blond curl from Nick's forehead,
and kissed him gently. Natalie tugged on his sleeve.
"What did he say?"

LaCroix glanced at her briefly, but had eyes only for
his son. A strange emotion was rising in his gullet,
and he was doing his best to push it back down. "He
said, 'Mon pere.' And 'Mon amour.'"

***

As he had so many times before, LaCroix sat by his
sleeping son's bedside. Every ten minutes or so,
Nicholas's chest rose and fell in a single breath.
Through the half-open door, he could hear Kai and
Natalie in quiet conversation.

"Nicholas's feelings for LaCroix are... complex," Kai
was saying. "They do have a lot in common, yes. But
they are still very different people. Different ideas,
different morals. They're such diametric opposites,
he'll never understand how he feels about LaCroix."

<Indeed,> LaCroix thought, remembering.

@}-----

1850s: The Crimea

LaCroix was slowly worsening, appearing ever more
withered and ancient-looking. It was as though he was
slowly imploding.

Nicholas bent down next to him. He supported LaCroix's
shoulders and poured blood from a wineskin into his
mouth. He lapped it up weakly.

"I'm afraid it's not going to be quite enough,
Nicholas. I need more than nourishment."

"When you're stronger, you can go and feed for
yourself," Nicholas replied, although in the pit of
his stomach he knew it was folly. His master was
enfeebled now and close to death. "God knows there's
more than enough death about to take advantage of..."

"There is another way that I must be bolstered."
LaCroix smiled weakly. "You must give me the very gift
I've given you." Nicholas stared at him, confused.
"I'm afraid that the soldier literally took a piece of
my heart. Enough to guarantee my end ultimately, but
not enough to kill me straight away. We are creatures
of the strangest biology, are we not? This is one of
the darker secrets of our nature." He chuckled
slightly. "Immune to all but the pain of a broken
heart."

Nicholas pointedly ignored that last comment. "What is
it you need?"

"I need you to give me some of <your> eternal life,
Nicholas. To transfuse me as I once did you."

A muscle in Nicholas's cheek twitched. He quickly
stood and turned away. "And if I say no?"

"I'll die," LaCroix said simply. "You'll be free of me
but you <will> be incomplete." He paused. "Our bond,
Nicholas, is destiny. Centuries ago, I chose to give
you immortality, to bring you across, not on any
whim." He struggled to sit up. "But because Fate
instructed me to do so. We share a destiny that may
not be fulfilled for centuries into the future." He
could feel himself, fading. "And, if you let me
perish, it will not be fulfilled <at all>." LaCroix
slumped back, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

Nicholas turned back to LaCroix and studied him. Then
he raised the wineskin to his lips and drained it with
a few swallows.

All he had to do was wait, and he would be free.
But...

Nicholas reached into his cloak and pulled out a
knife. He bared an arm, held it up, and raked the
blade of the knife across his wrist. Blood ran down
his hand.

It flowed across his knuckles, down to his fingertips,
where it collected into a drop.

That drop fell onto LaCroix's lips.

@}-----

LaCroix's hand rubbed fretfully at the scar tissue
over his heart.

"But when the world crumbles, he will always run to
LaCroix. And LaCroix will never turn him away."




All I Was in Ashes: From the Ashes (15/15)

Hesitantly, Janette smoothed the newly-grown curly
hair from her brother's head, and was overjoyed when
he opened his eyes and looked at her. Nick smiled and
moistened his dry lips. "Ma soeur... Hello, Janette."

"Welcome back, Nicolas," she greeted him. Overcome,
she leaned over and kissed his lips tenderly.

"Are you well, Janette?"

"Well enough. Glad that your thick head has maintained
his integrity."

Étienne, who could not speak for the lump in his
throat, also kissed his brother. "Pas le cri, le frčre
de mon sang. Je ne vous partirais pas, n'importe quel
de vous."* Face wet with red tears, Étienne nodded,
and then swooped out of the room before he could
humiliate himself. "Hey, Trace. Did you get
Belarusse?"

"Hog-tied 'im."

"Good for you."

"Enjoy your vacation?"

"Yeah... remind me to fire my travel agent. How's my
car?"

"In better condition than you. Kai paid for the
repairs. She just got out of the shop. She's waiting
in your garage."

Nick managed a small nod. "Thank him for me." He was
getting tired, but it felt vaguely foolish to go back
to sleep after a coma of a month-and-a-half. <Go to
sleep anyway,> said a soothing and very welcome voice
in his mind, and Nick obeyed it without further
question.

The warm, bright tendril around her spinal cord was
pulsing again, making Natalie almost giddy with
relief. "Come on, let Nick sleep." Reluctantly, she
gave Jesse back to his mother. "He can see Nick when
he's a bit stronger," Natalie promised.

Jesse pillowed his chin on Janette's shoulder, looking
back at the sleeping Nick. "He's already doing better.
He's sleeping through the day again."

"It's going to be interesting when he has to go to
kindergarten," said Tracy, giving Jesse a finger to
gnaw on. "What with him being nocturnal and all."

"I favor home-schooling," answered Janette. "Family
preference."

Natalie just smiled.

***

Kai didn't look up at the person standing in front of
his desk. "I'm very busy," he said brusquely, "and I
really need to go and see my father before the sun
comes up, so--"

"The sun doesn't bother you anymore. And if you're so
anxious to see Nick, what're you doing down here?"

With great care and deliberation, Kai closed the heavy
ledger. "What do you want, Julian?"

"For one thing, I'd like my clinic back." He paused,
but his gaze never wavered. "And your trust."

There were a tense few moments, during which Kai
stared at Julian with hooded, cold grey eyes. Then he
rose, forbiddingly, and with his thin, brittle hand
grasped Julian's neck, turning his head to one side.
But he did not bite. Instead he took in deep breaths
of Julian's faint, almost undetectable personal scent.
When he released Julian and stepped back, Kai had a
queer smile on his face.

"He petrified you into behaving, didn't he?"

"Tenebres? Yeah. Made me realize that I have a lot of
personal concerns that I need to protect."

"Such as?"

"My nephew. Tracy. You." He smiled lopsidedly. "Come
on. We both know that eventually, I'm gonna do
something so monumentally stupid that there'll be a
reward for my head on a spike. I don't want you or
Tracy to be hurt by that.

"And it's more than that. I found out something I
didn't know before. I should've figured it out when I
first met you, but it's taken me this long. And <I>
want to be here when it comes to fruition. I don't
want it to be that stone-cold bastard or that
establishment prat that sees it happen."

"Fair enough." Kai raised a bony finger. "But. No more
playing with members of my Family. Understand? My
tolerance for your habit of conducting tests <stops>
there."

"All right, all right, I know. Okay."

"Fine. Now..." Julian tensed. "Go and say hi to Tracy,
or she'll think you're just playing her for a loop."

The tops of Julian's ears flushed a very delicate
shell pink.

***

Nick woke up when someone slipped their arm behind his
shoulders. "Ungh?"

"Hush, mon fils," soothed LaCroix, while Leif
carefully disconnected Nick from his various machines.
"I'm taking you home."

"Natalie?" he asked groggily.

"She is waiting for you there."

***

Enough of Nick's motor control had returned to allow
him to lean against the wall while he showered, and
the battering hot water made him feel considerably
more real. His head felt clearer than it had in many
months, and the gentle touches of his Family were
stronger and more defined. It was a wonderful feeling.

With Natalie's assistance, Nick dried himself, and
then limped into the bedroom to put on a pair of
pajamas. He lowered himself onto the bed with a
wordless groan. Then he looked to his right. "Aren't
you on the wrong side of the bed?" he asked his wife.
Natalie chuckled; she usually slept on Nick's left,
but because that whole side of him had been so badly
injured, she had temporarily changed her sleeping
arrangement.

"Does it bother you?"

"Yes, it does!" retorted Nick with mock fury. "I'm out
of it for one month and you go and change all your
habits on me. It's not fair!"

"Since when do I play fair?"

Nick's face brightened. "Hey, that's right," he said,
in a low, seductive tone. He rolled onto his right
side, and since he had limited use of his left arm,
reached hungrily for his wife. Natalie gently batted
his hand away.

"Uh uh, sorry, sweetheart. No extracurricular
activities until you're given the all clear."

All lust left Nick's eyes, leaving only a profound
loneliness, and the deep, abiding love Natalie never
tired of seeing. "Then just let me hold you," he
pleaded. "I've missed you, Nat." She capitulated,
snuggling gratefully into his embrace. Nick buried his
nose in her hair, taking deep breaths of her delicious
scent. "God, how I've missed you."

"I missed you more."

"Did not."

"I was so scared... There were times when I was sure
you were just going to give up on me. Leave me
behind."

Nick stroked her soft skin, relearning the curves of
her body. "Now how could I do that?" he wondered.
"When I haven't finished everything I've set out to
do?" Natalie looked up at him, curious. "I haven't
made a good, long life with you. I haven't taken you
around the world. We haven't had children, or
grandchildren. Jesus, I'm too busy to die!" He yawned.

"And too tired to talk anymore." Natalie stroked his
face. "Sleep well, Nick. I'll see you tonight."

Nick kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm not going
anywhere."

*"Don't cry, brother of my blood. I wouldn't leave
you, any of you." (Courtesy of Freetranslation.com)

~~~

~~Dedicated to KC Smith, and to cancer survivors
everywhere~~

~~~

~Finis--August 21st, 2003~

April French daomir_darkfell@yahoo.com

=====
~Forever Knight: The Sons of Lilith~
http://www.geocities.com/runeshard/fkficindex.html
~The Corvina~ http://www.geocities.com/runeshard/index.html
"And we shall exist by amusing ourselves, by dreaming of monstrous loves and
fantastic universes, by complaining and quarreling with the pretenses of the
world..."
     --"The Flash of Lightning" by Arthur Rimbaud