Untitled Art Imitating Life January 2002 Karen Gunther Disclaimers: The following story is a work of fiction inspired by 'Forever Knight', which is the property of Sony/Columbia/Tri-Star... although they don't seem to appreciate it as much as the fans do! No profit is being generated and I promise to put Nick and Natalie back when I am done! Permission is granted to archive at the ravenawards archive, fkfanfic.com, Fanfic2 and the forever knight ftp archive. It will also be available on my story page (www.angelfire.com/tx5/kannegun/archive.htm) Anyone else who wishes to put this story on their web site, please ask first!! Special thanks to my very special beta-reader- Stephane Plante. Thanks for filling in the blank spots! Authors note: The story is set between first and second season. Nick and Schanke are still working out of the 27th precinct with Stonetree as their captain... LaCroix is thought to be dead... CHAPTER ONE "What is this place?" Detective Don Schanke stared open-mouthed at the faux stone and mortar that had transformed the ordinary looking warehouse into a castle of medieval proportions. The room was complete with artificial lighting that was realistic enough to appear as if the sun was high in the sky. When last Don had looked, the sky was covered with thick gray clouds that barely let the sun's rays peeped through. Toronto in February was not as clear and bright as the interior of this warehouse would make it seem. "It's called a movie set," responded a uniformed officer with obvious sarcasm. "And when you are finished gawking, the body is that way." He pointed toward an adjacent area, in what appeared to be a garden. "Yeah, yeah, gimme a break, okay? Haven't seen the sun in a month at least, can't a guy fantasize or anything?" he sighed, striding past the clusters of technicians who waited impatiently for the police to finish their work. Nodding to the officer who stood just inside the doorway, he gazed around the room. Another day, another homicide, he mused as he took in the surroundings. The only difference being that he was working solo on this one. His partner only worked the night shift. A supposed allergy to sunlight restricted him to the hours of darkness. While the studio's sunshine was artificial and it was still lighter than it had been outside, this call had come after 8 a.m., after his partner had signed out. Since Don was officially still assigned to the day shift, he got the nod. More times than not over the past year, Don had found himself on nights as often as days. Every new case that came in, he swore that he would leave on time and let his partner finish the paperwork or do the legwork but here he was. Covering the dayshift, even though he'd been called in for an interrogation several hours after supposedly signing out for the evening. It was enough that he was beginning to think that life would be easier if he simply transferred to the night shift. A broad smile lit up his face as he saw the petite auburn haired woman crouched by the body. Any case that had Natalie Lambert as M.E. was more likely to go into the books as solved. She had an uncanny intuition when it came to homicide. Not to mention the fact that she was definitely easier on the eyes than any of the other coroners on staff. Natalie was chief coroner on night shift but with the chronic short staffing in that department, found herself working cases pretty much any time, day or night. "Hey, Natalie," he called out, striding into the room briskly. "What's the news?" She glanced up, gesturing for him to come closer, "Detective, I'd like to introduce you to Marcus Wayne, a male in his mid 30s, formerly cast as Sir Robert... a nobleman in medieval France. Now he is most assuredly deceased." "Ah, yes, of course," he peered down his nose, in a mock gesture of disdain. "So what had the late Monsieur Wayne told you so far?" Standing, she picked up her black medical bag and motioned to the movie set, "I think someone took the plot just a little too far." Hands scrunched into his pockets, Don pleaded, "Humor me, Nat. I haven't kept up on the entertainment news. I don't know anything about whatever they are filming here. What happened to the actor over there?" "This is a movie about vampires," she explained grimly. "The only marks on him are a set of puncture wounds on his neck." In her mind she was calculating how many hours it would be before Nick was alert enough to share this bit of news. She could not tell if this was truly the work of a vampire, or simply an act. That was his territory. "Great, just great," he mumbled. Somehow over the past year, he'd been blessed with more than his share of odd cases... starting with the guard at the Royal Ontario Museum. He walked closer and peered at the body. He doubted that he'd find anything that Natalie hadn't, but had to see for himself. "Not much blood," he observed. "No, there isn't," she confirmed. "Don't ask me where it is though. I didn't see much either. That's your job." "And your cause?" he asked with obvious reluctance. He longed for a simple, straightforward domestic case. Those were simple when compared with the pseudo-supernatural ones. "Right now, I'm saying exsanguination. I'll let you know more after I've done the post-mort." She nodded toward a cluster of men in costume standing to the periphery. "Those are the guys who found him." "Thanks, Nat." He gave her a wave and walked over to the men that Natalie had indicated. "Detective Schanke, Metro Homicide. Who found him?" "That would be me," a tall, dark haired man spoke up, extending his hand to shake Don's hand. "Jim Merrill." "And the rest of you?" Don prompted. "Jim called me over to look. I've played enough doctors in my career that I feel like I am one," a slim redheaded man joked. "I'm Eric Peters." "And what did you do then?" "Oh, don't worry, Detective. We didn't touch anything." The third man responded. "Let me guess. You've played a cop too?" Don asked, with a hint of annoyance. He had little patience for civilians who thought they knew police procedure. At least, in this case, their 'knowledge' had told them to leave the scene alone. That was a plus. "Well, yes I have. Maybe you've seen me. I'm currently a detective on..." "Sorry, I'm not up on current shows," Don interrupted. He gestured for an officer to come over. "Miller, take these two into the other room. I'll talk to them next. OK, Jim, what exactly did you find?" he asked, flipping open his notebook, and leading Jim away from the other actors. "Marcus was just laying there... I thought he'd just come in early to practice some of his stunts or run lines and then decided to take a nap in the garden. We've all used that set for naps." "And?" he prompted. "I called to him. We were going to need that set soon, and he was due in makeup... and, well, he didn't respond. So I came closer. And he was... dead..." "How did you know that?" Schanke asked, trying to not be as sarcastic as he felt. The entire area felt, in his mind, weird. Something was going on that went beyond one dead actor. "I'm not stupid, detective," he said impatiently. "He was cold. I did try to check a pulse... I took CPR once, you know." "OK, so what did you do next?" Schanke asked in his most calm, professional voice. "I freaked. I screamed for help. Eric came over and then we called you guys." He wrung his hands nervously. "Honestly, Detective, I didn't see anyone around. The techs were in the other set, fixing the lights. Most of the other guys were in makeup. Even the director was in his office. We weren't scheduled to start today's filming until 9 am." "Hmm, okay then, let me ask this. Who has access to the studio when you aren't filming?" "The cast, the crew... basically anyone with a pass, I would guess. Our passes are coded for access through the security doors." "Thanks. You'll be around if I need to talk to you again?" "Of course. I want to see whoever did this caught." "Well, that's my job. I'll be in touch," Don responded. Seeing the captain approaching, he nodded and met the captain mid way. "What do you have?" Stonetree asked, gazing around the room. "Victim is an actor who was found this morning by another actor. No one saw anything, at least not that they are saying." "Do you have a TOD or cause?" "Cause is blood loss, at least that's the preliminary. Natalie has the body at the lab." "Blood loss? I didn't see much blood in that garden area where they found the body." "Yeah, well, this is a movie about vampires," Don replied with a wry smile. "Maybe someone took it a little too seriously." "Maybe. But let's keep this in the here and now." Stonetree said sternly. He had fought to keep the supernatural out of previous cases under his supervision. Some explanations had no business being in print... and the only print that he wanted to see about vampires was in fiction. "Someone killed Mr. Wayne, and it's our job to figure out who it was." He chastised. "Any ideas?" "Well, someone who was here before working hours. I'm going to pull their security records to see whose badges were used early this morning. Maybe we can narrow the field a bit. Figure out who else was at the studio." "Get to it," Stonetree agreed. "Since you've brought up the over-imaginative actor motive, it might not hurt to read the script." "I'll request it immediately." Don agreed. ***** The thinnest ray of sunlight penetrated a narrow space at the bottom of the tall windows. It was part of Nick's morning ritual to keep the heavy steel shades open as long as he could. Even after the sun's rays kept him imprisoned in his loft apartment, he was reluctant to seal himself within. Even after 800 years, he had not forgotten how it felt to stand under the noonday sun. To feel the heat of the day, the power and energy that came from being alive. Oh, yes, he was still *alive* in a manner of speaking, but he could no longer stand in the sun. Even the thin sliver that cast vague shadows in his dimly lit apartment would burn him. It was the early morning that was the most difficult for Nick. It reminded him of his limitations. In his early years, he would be seized by an uncontrollable urge to seek shelter and to sleep. A self-defense survival urge, he'd been taught. Now he did not need to sleep as much and so, he was alone, at home. There was nothing to keep him from his thoughts and memories. Most prominently though, he relived his regrets. For as long as he'd been alive, he'd not been able to forgive himself the sins of his youth, the choices that he'd made in moments of passion. The choices that had led him to this moment in time. "Hey, hey, Nicky boy! Wakey! Wakey!" the voice of his partner came over the answering machine loudly. Nick had somehow missed hearing the ring, or the outgoing message. "What is it Schank?" he asked as he leaned over the machine, phone pressed to his ear. "We got a live one... or should I say, a dead one," he responded with a broad chuckle. "Obviously I can't meet you there," Nick sighed, looking again at the ray of sunlight. Being unable to work during the day made his ability to blend into mortal society an even greater challenge. "No problemo, partner. I've done the preliminary work. There will be a pile of paper sitting on your desk tonight awaiting your magic touch," the humor was hard to miss. Neither man was overly fond of writing reports but it was rare that Nick would be doing the menial tasks while his partner did the interviews and investigation. "Magic touch?" Nick asked with a heavy sigh. This was not good. "You got it. The typewriter awaits you. I gotta run. They're bringing over some witnesses for me to interview. Have fun. Hasta-la-bye-bye!" "Yeah, sure," Nick groaned. Just what he needed. Something to remind him on man's inhumanity to one another. Something more to remind him of his own urges... CHAPTER TWO Natalie had done more post-mortem examinations in her career than she cared to count. In her four years in the Toronto's Coroner's office, she'd risen to the position of chief medical examiner on the night shift. That meant that she reviewed every case that came in between the hours of 7 pm and 7 am. More often than not, she was the pathologist on duty and did the exam herself. There was very little that could shock or surprise her any more. Or so she had once thought. That had changed three years ago when one of her clients sat up on the autopsy table and altered her reality forever. The knowledge that vampires existed in the modern world was a closely guarded secret, a fact that Nick impressed upon her regularly. The veil of secrecy that was necessary had drawn them together with a friendship that went deeper than simply being co-workers. It was a bond of trust upon which their lives depended. The fact that Nick Knight, a detective with the Metro Toronto Police homicide division, was in reality an 800-year old vampire, was not something that she would discuss with anyone. It had opened her eyes to some events that were not quite what they seemed. There was only one case that she *knew* was the result of a vampire's attack. How many others she'd seen and simply attributed to other causes was anyone's guess... Despite the fact that she'd been on duty for fourteen hours already, Natalie chose to finish the case before heading to her apartment for some much-needed sleep. Some things she needed to see for herself, because she knew that no one else in the department would know what to look for. Things like whether or not this was the work of a man or a vampire. The cause of death remained acute blood loss, and the only wound that she found were the two small punctures over the jugular vein. The appearance of the punctures was not what she remembered from the vampire case that she'd done previously, but for that degree of blood loss to occur from that vessel, there had to have been some suction or drainage device. Was it a mouth that caused the slight discoloration? Or a machine? The preliminary case report was finalized, printed and filed. Some blood work and drug testing remained before the report could be finalized but it would not change the outcome. Someone had drained Marcus Wayne of enough blood to cause circulatory collapse. It was Nick's job to figure out just who that was and why. Although she knew that Nick would be sleeping, this was something that he needed to know. Sunset was a good 6 hours away, but this could not wait. In a gesture that spoke of the trust he had for her, he'd given her the security code to his loft apartment. For a vampire to reveal his daytime resting place and allow access to a mortal was the utmost gesture of trust and respect. With copies of the autopsy photos and the final reports in her briefcase, Natalie left the office shortly after noon, driving directly to the warehouse district and Nick's apartment. She parked in the alley next to his building and punched in the code with a yawn. All was quiet when she got off the lift. A single taper set on the piano was lit, and cast a pale glow in the main room. She knew better than to actually go upstairs and wake him. The few times that she'd woken him from a deep sleep had convinced her of that. She'd seen the vampire numerous times, mostly when Nick was intensely angry but always in control. Not so when he was disturbed during the day. The vampire would emerge first, and she'd not been sure that Nick was truly aware of his actions until he'd consumed an entire bottle of blood. He would then wake, but seem very confused how he got downstairs and why she was she there. She knew that had she gone to her own apartment, she would have fallen asleep and missed him before he went into work. This was something that he needed to hear from her first. After setting her briefcase on the kitchen table, she went to the closet to grab a pillow and blanket. Settling on the couch, she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. **** The clattering sound of the automatic shutters rising woke Nick later that afternoon. He'd programmed them to open as soon as the sun's shadows no longer posed a risk. He could still watch the fading glow of the sunset from the relative safety of his kitchen. As he rose from the bed, he heard a sound that didn't belong... the beating of a human heart. It took him a moment to recognize the cadence as being that of his friend and confidante. For Natalie to come specifically to see him unannounced, after a shift, meant that there was something that he needed to know before he went in to work. Belting a robe snugly over his black silk pajamas, Nick went down stairs cautiously. He could see her sleeping soundly on the couch. Crossing to the refrigerator, he took out a green glass bottle and uncorked it. The aroma of the steer blood hit him immediately. It was a compromise that he endured. He had vowed to not partake of human blood many years ago, but had yet to find a substitute that nourished him other that the blood. It was Natalie's contention that the blood was what kept him from crossing back over... and becoming mortal. For that reason, she continually tried to devise other beverages for him. Some were better tasting than others, but none took away the craving. Even the steer blood did not completely ease the desires. After consuming a goblet full of blood, he sat at the piano and began to play. Music had been a companion for many years and he had studied with some of the masters. Music was one way that he could express his deepest emotions without fear of killing anyone. "Now that is a wonderful alarm clock," Natalie said softly, running a hand across his back as she stood behind him. "I aim to please my house guests. Even when I don't know that I'm going to have house guests," he frowned, turning on the bench to face her. "What brings you over, Nat?" "Case that came in after you left," she responded, walking over to the dining table and opening her briefcase. "Schanke called and said we had a new case but didn't give me the particulars. You think that it's important enough that I needed to hear about it from you, not Schanke or Stonetree?" "What you'll hear from me is not exactly what you'll hear from them," she said dryly, handing him the autopsy photographs. He studied the pictures carefully. It didn't take long for him to figure out her concern. "And the Ccause of death?" "Blood loss. Didn't look exactly like that case last year, but I need you to take a look," she admitted. "Hmm, yes, of course. Where'd you find him?" "That's the other problem and the main reason that you needed to know about this. He was on a movie set. A movie about vampires. Set in the middle ages." "Really?" he was incredulous. This was something that was way too noticeable for it to really be a vampire. Most vampires were more cautious than that. On the other hand, it would be interesting to see just how historically accurate... or more precisely *inaccurate* they were being. "Yes, really. Know anyone that would be that obvious?" she asked. "No... but we're assuming that it was a vampire," he said thoughtfully. "No, I'm not assuming anything," she corrected. "I'm just warning you so you don't freak at all the vampire jokes that you'll hear tonight. I do want you to take a look at the body just so I know whether I should worry." "Nat, as long as you've worded your reports to look as if a mortal did this, you don't need to be concerned." "If you say so," she shook her head. "Personally, I'd rather not risk it." "That is probably the safest attitude," Nick mused. "I'll come over later in the shift. I'll see what they've figured out today." He stood and handed the photographs to her. "Thanks for the advance warning." "I need to head home, feed Sydney and shower. I'm on pager at 6:30 but I won't be in the office until nine." She put the file back in her briefcase and pulled her jacket on over her scrubs. CHAPTER THREE Signing into the precinct log precisely at 9 pm, Nick observed the controlled chaos with mild disinterest. Having spent much of the past thirty years in law enforcement, there was little that went on in a police station that could surprise him. Despite the cold and gloomy weather, the citizens of Toronto were not hibernating. That was quite obvious from the throng that filled the lobby and surrounded him with notepads and cameras in tow. Nick ignored the attempts of several people to catch his attention and pushed his way into the bullpen. Glancing at the drawn shades, he turned to the uniformed officer standing guard by the door. "OK, Steve, why are the shades down?" "Fishbowl effect," he said sarcastically. "Day shift got tired of being watched. Some of those reporters started getting out of hand." "I noticed the crowd. What's up?" "Beats me. Some actor died. That's all I know," he shrugged. "So what's the commotion about?" Nick asked. "Ah, some bozo from the cast is telling everyone that the guy was attacked by a vampire," Steve explained. "A vampire?" Nick's carefully schooled expression reflected the disbelief that he knew was appropriate. "You think maybe it's the same one that was at the museum a few years ago?" Steve laughed, "Could be. You never know. Anyway, Schanke escaped out the back door when he booked off a few hours ago to avoid them." "Maybe I'll try the same thing," Nick mused, seeing a thick file sitting conspicuously on his desk blotter. "Only after you've put in some legwork on the case," Stonetree commented as Nick opened the file. "After you've read the scene report and the autopsy, I want you to cross reference the studio's security log. Figure out who was there officially. Supposedly it is a closed studio with a pretty good alarm system. You have to have a security badge to get in, and there is no indication of an intruder. When you get a chance, read through the script." "What's the working theory right now?" Nick asked, flipping though the stapled pages of the script. "Professional jealousy?" "Possibly. Or maybe an accident. A stunt gone wrong. It's very possible that it is someone on the inside." "Cast?" Nick began to consider the possibilities. "That's why we need to figure out exactly what scenes have 'Sir Robert' and what he is doing. If it was a stunt gone wrong, that's more an issue for the studio. If they're covering something up, we need to get them talking." "Understood. I'll get something to you by the end of the shift," Nick agreed, pulling the printout of the security logs. "Just one question. What are all the media waiting for?" "You got me. I've already told them what I can. The guy is dead, and we are investigating." Stonetree leaned over the desk, speaking low. "I refused to comment on the whole vampire thing. Maybe they are trying to make this something supernatural. Scoop the cable television horror channel. I don't know." "I promise, no vampire jokes will come from me," Nick said solemnly, looking Stonetree in the eye. For a moment the captain was still, as if he knew that Nick knew more that he'd let on. Exchanging a long silent gaze, Stonetree went back to his office. Nothing had ever been said, but Nick had long believed that the captain had suspicions about him. Neither man had ever said anything. Nick was content to leave it at that. **** Analyzing the security logs was precisely the type of tedious detail work that Nick tried to avoid. It amazed him how many people were coming and going at all times of day or night. Especially since the filming schedule that week called for only daytime work. "Getting anywhere?" Stonetree asked when he saw Nick pulling on his jacket, as if leaving. "I can tell you who was there when they *found* him, but I need the estimated TOD to give you more. I'm heading to the morgue." "Don't take too long. Those vultures will be back at daybreak," he joked. After Joe's third request, most of the media had dissipated. They would be back. Parking in his usual spot in front of the coroners building, Nick was aware of a shadowy figure waiting by the loading dock. As he got out of the car, he stood under the streetlamp, as if in challenge. A tall woman wearing a black trench coat approached cautiously, "Detective?" "Yes?" Nick responded, reaching out with his senses. It was not an Enforcer. They were not usually this communicative. It was, however, a vampire. An old one. More than likely, she was one of the ancients who investigated events that might warrant future action from the Enforcers. Nick had had a few encounters with the vampire equivalent of Internal Affairs. That was more than enough. "What can you tell me about the television reports of a vampire attack?" "Not much," Nick replied, with an apologetic shake of his head. "If you give me an hour, I'll know more. I'm going in to check out the body." "What is the coroner calling it?" the woman persisted. "I told you, I don't know," he said firmly. "Yet. Do you want to wait?" "Not here. I will be at the Raven," the woman replied. "I expect you will be in touch." "Absolutely," Nick agreed. Since his sire had perished, he'd had little contact with the older, more powerful vampires. He maintained a relationship with Janette, his immortal sibling, and had a loose friendship with a few others, but for the most part avoided other vampires. It was no longer his preferred lifestyle, and that was hard for the others to understand. With a nod to the receptionist, Nick walked down the hall to Natalie's ground floor lab. The smell of formaldehyde only barely covered the tantalizing scent of human blood. He avoided her office area whenever she had fresh cases. Keeping his instincts in check was even more difficult when faced with the temptation of the scent of that which he'd given up. After nearly 7 centuries of consuming human blood as a source of nutrition and strength, he now drank only cow's blood. It was not as sweet, not as satisfying, but it also did not add to his sense of guilt. He could tell long before he reached the lab that Natalie was working on a case. The terse comments spoken into a small tape recorder and the clatter of instruments against the steel surface were as clear to his ears as the acrid scent of the blood. A sly smile crossed his face as he strode down the hall. His footsteps becoming lighter, he blended into the shadows. After 800 years, it was instinct. He might not hunt anymore but he hadn't lost the instincts, nor had he forgotten how to conceal his presence. Once it was a matter of survival. Now it was fun. The door opened with a hint of a breeze that went undetected. Clad in blood-splattered scrubs, Natalie was intent on her dissection. He loved watching her work. Her face was scrunched with concentration as she passed in front of him. Lightly stepping to the foot of the autopsy table, Nick leaned over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Ahhh," she shrieked, dropping her instruments with a loud crash. Turning quickly, she smacked his arm, heedless of the blood on her gloves. "Don't DO that!" she exclaimed. "Couldn't resist," he laughed. "I've been here five minutes without you noticing." "Have you ever tried a simple 'hello'?" she retorted. It was hard for her to stay angry with him grinning like a little boy. "That wouldn't be as much fun," he pouted. Stripping off her soiled gloves, she pointed to the desk area. "No, I don't suppose it would but it would do wonders for my heart," she commented. Tossing the gloves and her blood-splattered apron into the hazardous waste bin, she followed him to the corner of the lab that served as her office. Clicking off the tape recorder, she glanced at him expectantly. "So what can I do for you? Besides provide entertainment?" "You finished with the post on that actor? I need the official TOD to start figuring out who was in the studio legitimately." "Yes, I have it right here," she pulled a file out from the stack sitting on the desk. "I was hoping you'd stop by tonight." Nick skimmed through the pages and gave her a non-committal grunt. "Body been released yet?" "No, I haven't signed off yet." She stood and opened the heavy metal door to the cold room. Switching on the light, she pushed the shrouded gurney toward the center of the room. When Nick did not immediately follow her, she peered out, "You coming? I wasn't planning on pushing him all the way out." "Oh, uh, yeah," he stammered. Carrying the file tucked under his arm, he followed her voice. The bare light bulb cast harsh shadows and reflections off the metal walls. While he'd adjusted to the odors of the autopsy room, the cold storage area reeked of death. It was an area that Nick avoided whenever possible. Watching as Natalie pulled back the drape, Nick could readily see the evidence of the recent autopsy. His attention was drawn to the neck. Twin punctures stood out against the pallid skin. "That isn't a vampire bite," he stated without hesitation. "Sure about that?" Natalie questioned. Nick shot her a look that silenced any doubt before replying firmly, "Yes." "OK, OK. I'm just making sure," she stammered. She seldom heard that particular tone of voice and knew better than to argue. Before she'd finished covering up the body, Nick had swept from the room. He was leaning on her desk, studying the file intently. "So where do you go next?" she asked gently. "Same place I was going before you showed the body to me," he replied. "This is still a case. Even if I knew it's futile, I still would investigate this like any other case. I know it isn't a vampire, so I continue with the leads we already have." He was being more abrupt than normal, which made Natalie question how truthful he was being. It was rare that a body crossed her table that she knew, beyond a doubt, was a vampire's kill. Not that she'd *ever* put that in an autopsy report. "No vampire would be that stupid," he added with obvious disdain. "Not unless they want to invite trouble." "Right," she agreed. She'd heard vague references to a vampire police force but like most of what she knew of Toronto's seamier side, it barely skimmed the surface. "I've got a toxicology report pending, but once that's back, I can finalize it for you." "Good," he sighed. "Maybe that'll take care of all the media camped out at the precinct." "Which, I'm sure, is making Stonetree's day," she added sarcastically. "You know it," he smiled. Neither of them had much fondness for media attention. Over the past year, they'd both had microphones shoved in their face with unpleasant consequences. "So what's next on your agenda?" "A scintillating evening of cross-referencing the security logs with the TOD in your report." He rolled his eyes with mock boredom. Having a copy of her report fresh in hand, he had another appointment to keep first. Ancients were not known for their patience. When one was asked for information, one provided it- quickly. "Sounds like fun," she commented, pulling a fresh pair of gloves out of the box. "I'll let you know if I learn anything else." CHAPTER FOUR With a nod to the bouncer, Nick pushed open the black door of the Raven. The pounding beat of the music echoed around the half empty club. Striding across the room, he met Janette next to the bar. "It's about time you showed up," she chastised him. "She's waiting in the back room." "Who is she?" "Someone older and more powerful than you," she sniffed. "Of course, being more powerful than you is not difficult to imagine these days. I swear, the youngest of fledglings would carry a stronger aura than you." "Janette, please," he groaned. "This is an old argument. You aren't going to win." "I know," she sighed. "That doesn't mean I won't try. But that is for another night. Right now I would like you to take care of whatever business you have with the ancient one. Her mere presence in the club is driving away my customers." "I'll take care of it," he pledged. Approaching the office door, he knocked and waited to be acknowledged. "Did it really take this long? I have been waiting over an hour," the ancient demanded as soon as Nick entered the room. "My apologies, ma'am," Nick began. He wasn't sure who this was but figured that being deferential never hurt when dealing with ancients. "What is your assessment?" "I detected no aura of a vampire's feeding from the body." Nick explained. "Your own aura is so weak, I'm not sure you could detect *anything*," she sniffed. "Do you have the coroner's report?" "Yes, she is calling it blood loss," Nick confirmed, handing him the copied file. "How does she explain the blood loss? Do we have anything to be concerned about?" the woman asked, skimming through the pages quickly. "She does not explain it. She speculates that the marks were made by a large intravenous device." "That seems an odd explanation," she remarked. Her eyes met Nick's steady gaze. "I find it odd that an experienced coroner would not comment on the absence of blood." Her voice took a stern tone as she spoke slowly and deliberately. "Is there a reason that she does not notice something so obvious?" "A reason?" Nick questioned. "Does this coroner know more than she should?" "Not that I'm aware of," Nick replied, schooling his voice to be even. The line of questioning did not surprise him. That it was phrased in such a way that he could answer with a modicum of truth was unusual. "Hmm," she commented, keeping her eyes on Nick's expression. "I don't see anything here that is concerning. Your cooperation has been noted. I will leave my contact number with Janette. I trust that you'll let her know of any developments that warrant my attention." "Of course," Nick agreed. "I'd also advise YOU to nourish yourself better, but from what I've heard, you wouldn't listen to me any more than you listen to your immortal family." She stood and looked at Nick sternly. "There is no way back. You must live with the decisions you made 800 years ago." She swept from the room, leaving Nick to puzzle how this virtual stranger knew anything about him, much less his quest. He had endeavored to stay clear of the community for some time. He was still standing in the center of the office when Janette came in. "What are you doing in here?" she asked, breezing past him to flip open a large ledger that sat on the mahogany desk. "Thinking," he shrugged, turning to face her. "Thinking?" she questioned. "Hmmm, well, I have work to do. You are very distracting. Unless you'd care to enlighten me, can you think elsewhere?" "Oh, uh, sure," he stammered. "I should head into the precinct anyway." He gave her a quick wave before departing. She watched him leave with a mix of regret and annoyance. She had not intended to push him away. It was never her intent to encourage him to keep his distance. Their long history together was complex and her feelings for the former crusading knight ran deep. It was at her request that LaCroix had brought him across. A disillusioned, tired man, who no longer believed in his God or King, he was the perfect addition to their little band. At first a lover who'd seduced him into a new life, she became almost like a wife to him, living as a couple for nearly a century. Finding his passions and devotion to be overwhelming, she had left him. It was then that he began to vocalize all of his questions about his existence. For centuries she had been trying to find a way to appease him. It was to no avail. Neither could understand the other's opinion of immortality. For Janette, it was a better existence. She could be as independent as she desired. Ties to family and church had little meaning to one who'd been sold to a brothel by one's husband. She could not fathom the guilt that had plagued him for centuries, nor the desire for atonement. Her time in Toronto marked the first time that century that she'd been with Nick for any length of time without the difficulty of their master hovering over them both. LaCroix's relocation to Toronto had resulted in Nick making contact with her. His presumed demise had resulted in Nick maintaining a loose contact with her, something that he hadn't done for the previous two years. She could not help but think that it was induced by the guilt he felt for his role in their master's death. As she reflected upon their centuries together, she'd realized that LaCroix had a tendency to pressure Nick to the point where he'd leave. The strong-arm tactics that their sire preferred obviously would not work, they had never worked. She wanted to try a different approach in her desire to reconcile with her immortal sibling. She still hoped to find a way to reverse Nick's long-standing unhappiness. Surely there was something about his life that he found enjoyable. It remained her greatest fear that he'd simply give up and walk into the sunlight. She had never thought that to be a risk, no matter how unhappy Nick seemed. The knowledge that a long-time friend and former lover of Nick's had ended her immortal life within the past year made Janette worry. It suddenly seemed possible for Nick to do the unthinkable. That was something that Janette would do anything to prevent. ************ Don Schanke was less awed each day that he trudged through the barn-like structure that housed the movie set. He was learning more than he ever wanted to know about filmmaking. The more he watched the tedious nature of the craft, the more he was glad to *not* be involved. This production was much more complex than he'd experienced when the crew of 'Cop Watch' had filmed Nick and him last year. He'd actually had delusions of an acting career and still sometimes fantasized about having his name in lights. Every time the episode was repeated, Schanke's colleagues teased him about trying to retain an agent. At this point in the investigation he was becoming more confused why such money was being spent to simulate a dark garden or field indoors when they could have simply filmed outdoors after sunset. For a movie about vampires, with so much 'night' being depicted, it seemed odd to him that it was filmed mainly during the day. If they'd done outdoor filming at night, his partner could have had the 'pleasure' of dealing with the temperamental director. While not happy about the disruption in their filming schedule, the director had worked around the faux garden that was still a closed murder scene. With the role of Sir Robert needing to be re-cast, and the script being revised they'd had other sets to use. There were still a substantial number of scenes that needed the garden but no one seemed to be in a hurry. Having a police presence was becoming routine. As time progressed, the shock had worn off. Everyone with official access to the studio had alibis. The question in Don's mind now was whether someone had gotten through the security system. They had not given up on that possibility but as each piece of equipment was tested, it became less likely that mechanical problems had permitted a random criminal to enter the studio. When that had been absolutely ruled out, the investigation would shift from looking for a random outside criminal to focus upon the cast and crew. In that case, who was being less than truthful? Filming was in progress when Don arrived on the set for yet another conference with the director. This time he remembered to keep quiet until the camera's red light went out. Hands shoved into his coat pocket, Don stood just behind the tall chair occupied by Bob Hewes, the film's director. "What's the word?" Bob asked abruptly, seeing the detective's approach. "We've gotten as much evidence from the garden as we're going to," he replied. "My captain has cleared me to take down the barriers." "About time," he exclaimed. "I need that area. We were already behind schedule and we'll still need to re-shoot a lot of scenes when we've replaced Marcus." He slid down from his chair and grabbed a clipboard before leading Don further away from the set. "So are you done?" "Done?" "With the investigation. You know, arrested someone and all that." "No, we aren't finished," he acknowledged. "You aren't rid of me yet." "Whatever you need. As long as you don't interfere with my schedule, I'll do whatever I can to help. I want you to catch whoever did this but I have a job to do too. You can talk to anyone you need to, but let my assistant know if you're taking them anywhere. I don't want to blow up at someone if they're trying to help you. I do enough of that already," he said absently, gesturing to a crewmember. He paused for a moment, eyeing the detective intently. "You aren't shutting us down are you?" "No, we aren't. I can't tell you anything more than that, but I'll let you know if we need to talk to anyone again." CHAPTER FIVE Only a few reporters still lingered around the precinct when Nick breezed through just before nine p.m. With the crime nearly a week past, it was old news despite the fact that no one had been arrested. Only the tabloids remained and they paid scant notice to Nick as he signed in. They were too busy trying to pump the desk sergeant for any scandalous crime he could tell them about. "About time you showed up," the desk sergeant commented. "Stonetree's looking for you." "Yeah, yeah," he shrugged. Following the chain of command as part of his job wasn't easy. While the concept of unquestioning obedience to one's superiors had been bred into him at an early age, he learned the hard way that commanders did not necessarily have his best interest at heart. Trust was earned. He slung his jacket over the back of his chair and flipped open the top file from his 'in' box. Amidst his usual joking comments scrawled on post-it notes, Schanke had summarized his leads on the case. Essentially, they added up to a big 'zero'. He was still reading the penciled notes when a shadow was cast over the paper. "Anything interesting?" Captain Stonetree asked with a hint of sarcasm. "No," Nick answered flatly. "It's been long enough without a solid lead. Time for plan B," he announced, tossing a thick manila envelope on the desk with a thud. "What's that?" "The latest version of the script. I asked the powers at the studio for the current working script. Read through it and see if you can figure out anything that would be helpful. We'll play the professional jealousy angle." "Sure, Cap," Nick agreed, extracting the sheaf of stapled papers. **** The more he read, the more worried Nick was becoming. It was eerie to see the events of his own life being played out as a drama. As fiction. It had to be coincidence. It had to be. No one knew that much about him except Janette. At least no one who was still alive. His sire knew even more than Janette, but he'd been killed a year ago. Killed by Nick's hand. The reminders were etched in soot on the wall of Nick's loft apartment. He'd never even tried to wash it off. They served as painful evidence to the end of centuries of disagreements between his sire and himself. While he had long tried to escape LaCroix's domination, his death had not been part of the plan. He could not imagine Janette revealing anything to a mortal scriptwriter, much less personal detail of their lives. The need for privacy was something that every vampire took very, very seriously. If they lapsed, there was always the fear of the Enforcers to make sure that the knowledge of their existence remained secret. Nick had taken a calculated risk in allowing Natalie to live and become close to him. It was something he'd done a few times over the years. He'd been betrayed several times, which made him even more cautious. A cold chill ran down his back as he read a scene where the young Crusader was seduced into embracing the darkness of eternal night with a promise of a "thousand lifetimes". Those were the very words that LaCroix had used to call him back. **** "Don't be ridiculous," Janette exclaimed, motioning to the back room. Nick followed her closely, shutting the door firmly behind him. He paced the length of the room as Janette sat behind her desk. "I'm serious, Janette. Somehow my life is being told as a Hollywood drama." "And you think that I...?" she spoke vehemently, standing, her hands planted firmly on the desk's surface. "You know better." "You're the only one that knows my past," he replied. "A bit egocentric, aren't we, Nicholas?" she commented, walking over to the credenza and taking out several crystal goblets. "Is it not possible that this is merely a coincidence?" "The movie is about a vampire, a Roman general as a mortal, who is now in 13th century Paris. He finds a former Crusader and convinces him to turn his back on God. Fast forward to the present, and the Crusader is now fighting for his freedom from his master because he wants to be mortal again." "Interesting story. You forgot the part about him being a homicide detective," she mused. She could not help smiling to herself at the annoyed look that Nick shot her. "Vampires are popular once more it would seem. Television, movies, books. They are shrinking our domain. The world might yet discover our existence but in this case I fail to see the connection to me." She filled the goblets from a bottle she'd pulled from the wine rack behind her desk and offered one to Nick. "No thanks," he shook his head, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. "Ah, that's right. You're on duty," she said with disdain. "Even if I wasn't, that isn't what I prefer," he informed her emphatically. "You actually *prefer* that swill that you insist upon drinking?" she questioned. Their eyes met with a silent acknowledgement of what they both knew. "I thought not. Is it merely some form of misguided penance, or simply self-abuse?" "Janette, I didn't come here to fight with you. Can't we have a civilized discussion without focusing on my diet?" "Or lack thereof," she said softly. "Oh, Nicholas, I am simply concerned about your well being. It is not my intent to be such a shrew." "I didn't say you were," Nick commented, sitting on the corner of her desk, taking her hand in his. "I swore not to take human life to feed my monstrous appetite. I've taken too many innocent lives. I can't do that any more." "It isn't that you *can't*. You are still perfectly capable of living as a vampire. You have not forgotten how. It's that you *won't*," she added. "I know, I know. You have regrets. I'm not asking you to hunt with me as we once did. I'm merely suggesting that you occasionally partake of some of my excellent vintages. I can assure you that no one died for my very special blends." "It's too much of a temptation, Janette. I can't do it," he shook his head, turning away from her. In truth, the blood she held in her hand was only the beginning of what he wanted. In the end though, it would be a betrayal of all he believed. "You'd rather go hungry?" she chastised him. "The blood of animals will keep you alive, but does not satisfy all of your needs." "I know. It's something I live with," Nick replied softly, his eyes averted. "I'm doing fine." "That is a matter of debate, mon frere," she sighed. "My offer is an open one. Think about it. Someday you may change your mind." "I doubt it," Nick smiled, relieved that Janette was not going to push him further. He stood and kissed her hand lightly, pacing to the far side of the room. It was simply too tempting to be next to her. He didn't trust himself to do anything further. She was right, that he did have needs that were not being met. "So, you swear to me that you had nothing to do with this movie?" "Me? Dabble in Hollywood nonsense? Such foolishness. You give me far too much credit, Nicholas. In any event, why does it bother you so?" "You know why. It's dangerous," he reminded her. He watched as she slowly walked across the room, every step a seduction. She'd lost nothing over the centuries. He still remembered the vision of her across a smoke filled hall. Whispering to him. Calling to him. "Dangerous? For whom? Moi? I think not," she declared, standing next to him, her hands brushing along his shoulder. "For the community. It's too close to the truth. The Enforcers will never let it air." He moved away from her. Her presence was too distracting. Too much of a temptation. He wanted things that she was only too willing to provide... "Ah, so you are concerned about the mortals who are creating this work of fiction," she commented, knowingly watching his restless movement. "Admirable, Nicholas, but hardly your concern. Even if the Enforcers do learn of this motion picture, you are not involved, so why are you worried?" "But I know about it. Is that not the same thing? Should I notify the Ancient?" "You may, if it makes you happy," she shrugged. "It makes no difference to me. If you lived by the Code, you would not have this constant worry about discovery. Life would be so much simpler." "Janette, don't," he warned. "I'm telling *you* out of courtesy. I think I'm old enough to know when something doesn't feel right. This doesn't feel right." "Duly noted, mon chere," she nodded with a hint of impatience. "I'm not worried about it and I fail to see why you should be. Then again, you seem to thrive on worrying." "Janette," he sighed. "We've had this argument before. You won't win." "I was not trying to," she smiled. She knew that Nick had purposely avoided the club for the first three years that he was in Toronto. She was sure that he was aware of her presence as soon as he'd moved there. She'd known immediately that he was in town, and had waited patiently for him to seek her out. Their previous encounter had been bitter. He had escaped LaCroix and she had betrayed his confidence by telling their sire how to find him. She had done so with the best of intentions but Nick wouldn't listen. He had moved again before she had the chance to apologize. They had not seen each other since then. He'd first come to the club 'on business' and most of his visits to her were for the purpose of finding information. In the past few months, that was beginning to change. Ever so subtly he was beginning to come more often, to the point that he was close to being a regular. She had learned from her past encounters and knew that he would not back down. Anything that she did to push him would only serve to force him further away from her. "I am truly curious. What is it that you fear? Enforcers?" "A bit," he confessed. "Don't you?" "Ah, but I live by the Code. If your conscience was clear, you would not need worry." "I follow the code, Janette," he shot back quickly. "Oh?" she questioned. "Do you really? Might I remind you that your doctor friend knows too much?" "She's a resistor," he said firmly. "I assure you, she can be trusted." "So you say," Janette mused. "The Enforcers might think otherwise. Whether you trust her, or I do, would not matter if *they* don't. Far be it for me, however, to report *that* transgression. You'll be gone from her life soon enough, mon chere." "That's my concern more than anything," he nodded. "I'm not ready to leave this life. Is it possible that someone is trying to force me out?" "Anything is possible, Nicholas. Is it possible? Yes. Is it probable? No. Enforcers wouldn't bother to be that subtle." She brushed in front of him, resting her hands on his shoulders to draw him closer. "All right," he sighed, leaning forward to kiss her lightly. "I'm not convinced that this is simply a coincidence," he stood and moved to the door. "The question remains though. Is someone trying to set me up?" "Set you up? For what?" she questioned. "It isn't like you are trying to take power within the community." "True," he agreed. "My ideas are not popular ones. Could someone be trying to expose me?" "For what purpose?" she asked with genuine confusion. "To force me from this life. To force the Enforcers to take action against me. I don't know. There could be any number of reasons." "None of which are likely," she reassured him. "If it makes you feel better, I'll keep my ears open. Something might turn up." "Thank you," he said as he opened the door to leave. "I'll be in touch." "Of course," she nodded, watching him leave. "That was very well done, Janette," the low voice came from the shadows. She didn't need to look. She knew who it was. She was simply a pawn in the larger game. Brute force had failed to bring Nicholas back to the Community. A more subtle approach was being tried. The most ancient of the vampire Community had enlisted her assistance. While she regretted the deception, fearing that it would erode what small amount of trust existed between them, she would do anything to keep her immortal sibling. Besides one did not refuse *any* request that came from an ancient. "This is a risky proposition," she stated simply. "It was your idea," the woman replied from her perch against the wall. "I know, but it was not my idea that he be aware of the film prior to its completion." "No?" the woman questioned. "Here I was going to complement you. It's a stroke of genius. He has always been rather contemplative. I should think that you'd have better success if he has time to digest it all. Analyze the plot and so forth. Viewing a film once is less likely to be as illuminating." "Contemplative, perhaps. May I remind you that our Nicholas tends to leap before he looks. It might be better if he had not had the opportunity to overly analyze the story." "Sometimes that 'look' is not advisable, as you well know," she said sternly. "Je sais," Janette murmured, slipping into her native French. "That is what I'm afraid of. This could backfire on us." "I have another issue that I will require your assistance," she said thoughtfully. "Mais oui, madame. I shall be happy to do as you ask," Janette agreed readily. "Nicholas is handling some carelessness," she stated assuredly. "Yes, despite my misgivings regarding his current incarnation, it does come in handy at times," she smiled. "I believe he gave you the files, did he not?" "He did. My concern is the way the coroner wrote her report. It is very odd." She paused for a moment, her power and authority reflected in her expression. "You know what I am talking about." It was not a question. "Nicholas has been less than discrete," Janette stated simply, trying not to show her dismay. She knew only too well that Nick played loose and free with the code. It was only a matter of time before he was caught. The fact that it happened to be the coroner did work to their benefit but she worried that this ancient would not see it that way. "Something I'd suspected for some time," she replied matter-of-fact. "I am not totally naïve about what is going on here. If you feel this coroner can be trusted, I will leave the situation alone. On the other hand, if she is a danger, I need to know." "I don't believe that Natalie is a danger to the Community. Her loyalty has been an asset on more than one occasion. Is there something you wish me to do?" Janette asked simply. She was immensely relieved that she was not forced to betray Nicholas. She'd done that a few times and it always put a strain on their friendship that was becoming harder to overcome. "You've met this woman?" "Yes, I have," Janette acknowledged. "I'm sure that if Nicholas has revealed himself, he's also told her of the dangers." Giving Janette a quizzical glance, she said softly. "I'm glad you're so confident. I am not. I will be watching. I may deem it necessary to meet her as well. I will rely on you to set that up should I request it. I also require that you watch her and report anything interesting." She had not risen to her position by being foolish. There was more going on in Toronto than either were saying. "Of course," Janette agreed. "But if you are confident that Nicholas has been careless with her, why not ask him to bring the doctor to you?" "I don't trust his reaction. He may do something foolish trying to save this woman, not realizing my intentions toward either of them. If, as you say, she is a valuable ally, I am loathe to change that relationship by acting prematurely." She drained the last of the goblet she'd carried and set it on Janette's desk. "If I'd intended to summon Enforcers, it would have happened already." "I see," Janette nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. She knew only too well that if Nick thought the Enforcers were coming, he'd run, and take Natalie with him. "Do you think an oath of loyalty will be necessary?" "Perhaps. Of course, if he was wise, he would already have taken her blood and bound her to him. We'd have no argument if we saw she had a link to someone. I won't force it at this time. I may change my mind. It may be necessary for her to have a link to someone other than Nicholas." She spoke the last clearly and solemnly before fading into the shadows and disappearing. **** Pausing for a moment, staring through the skylight, Janette thought more about her discussion with Nick. She had longed to mend the rift that separated her from him for a long time. His moving to Toronto was a stroke of good luck for her and it allowed her the chance to put into play a plan that the oldest of their kind had proposed to her when she lived in Los Angeles. There, she had fallen into a crowd that dabbled in the Hollywood crowd. Indeed, many of the 'B' vampire movies of the 30s and 40s had been made by vampires with full knowledge and consent of the Enforcers. Anything to deflect true knowledge of their kind was not only permissible, but was encouraged. It had taken 50 years to feel that the time was right to implement her plan. The script idea that she had 'fed' to a screenwriter friend was closer to the absolute truth than had ever been presented and had required close contact with ancient vampires, most of whom she would just as soon avoid. She was still standing there when he levitated to the roof and sat next to her. "Are you planning to sit out here all night, or do you want to come in?" he asked with an amused smile. "Thank you, Nicholas, I was awaiting your invitation," she said demurely. In truth, she'd been debating how best to approach him. "I believe I will come in." She followed him to the lower level and set a full bottle on the table. "I see you brought your own," he commented, handing her an empty goblet. "But, of course, mon Coeur," she smiled. "I know what is on *your* menu. How you stand that swill is beyond me." He shot her a look of exasperation. "Janette, I have my reasons." "I know, I know," she sighed, patting the surface of the couch to ask him to sit. "I did not come over to lecture you." "Then why did you come over here?" he asked, uncorking her bottle and filling the glass. If nothing else, he could be a good host. Sitting at the far end of the couch, he viewed her carefully. "Because," she whispered, sliding closer to him. "I sensed that there was more that you wished to discuss." "About?" he questioned. "Our lives, our past. Whatever is bothering you about that film." "I don't know, Janette," he sighed. He stared at the flickering light of the fireplace as he spoke slowly and deliberately. "It was so strange." "Tell me," she commanded. "I don't know what to think. I know you said it's just coincidence, but it seems so real." "Real in the sense of?" she continued in her subtle seduction with every movement. He had, at first, kept his distance but had not moved off the couch as they both now sat at one end. He had moved his arm to rest against her shoulders. "I've never seen a vampire movie that seemed so real," he observed thoughtfully. "Maybe that's what struck me. They aren't the exaggerated fake creatures that you usually see." "Does that bother you?" she teased. She leaned against his chest, her hands splayed around his waist. It had been far too long since she'd been in his arms. She had, in a moment of restlessness rejected him many years previous. Things had never been the same between them afterwards. "You, who seek humanity as if it were the Grail. I should think you'd like being portrayed as the humanity that you covet." "Bother me? No, I don't think so. I was just commenting." He was silent for a moment, draining his goblet in one smooth motion. He was all too aware of the effect that she was having on him. He should tell her to leave before he did something he'd regret. "In all the time that I've been here in Toronto, I can only think of one time that you've been over here. Why tonight?" "I longed to see you again." She spoke in soft tones, her expression full of desire. "We have needs, just as mortals." "I haven't seen you lacking for company," Nick observed. Gently disentangling himself from her embrace, he stood and crossed the room, leaning on the carved fireplace, further away from her. The temptation was great. He had not been with another vampire for several decades. Celibacy was not easy for any vampire. Their very nature was one of seduction. That was one of the reasons that he'd not sought Janette's company as soon as he arrived in Toronto. Oh, he knew she was here as soon as he'd moved. He also knew that he would not be able to resist her charms. At least not for long. "I haven't been," she agreed, standing and following him to stand in front of the fireplace. "But you have." "I'm around people every night," he argued. He paced across the room restlessly. The automatic shutters rattled loudly as if to punctuate the fact that the sun had risen. It meant that Janette was there for the day. Not even he would turn her away. With a tired sigh, he sat down on the couch. "People, yes. Those of your own kind? No. Not unless you need something," she observed, sitting next to him. "You need us, just was you need your mortal friends." She slowly began to caress his arms, moving to his chest. He stared impassively at the ceiling but did not pull away. He knew precisely what she was doing. It was a scene that had been played more times than he could recall. "I don't need anything. Not from the community at least. Not now, not ever," he declared. He was torn between his long standing vow to distance himself from the lifestyle and the unfulfilled desires of the vampire. He had been celibate for over a century. For a vampire that was a very, very long time. With his awakening desires for a deeper relationship with Natalie, the danger of his losing control was looming. He'd never attempted to be exclusively faithful to a mortal woman. Any relationship he'd had before was short-lived. Inevitably, he'd succumb to his desires. As he sat cuddled with Janette, he began to think back to the centuries with his immortal sibling. One thing was becoming clear in that moment. He wanted her. He needed her. How could he resist her? But how could he forgive himself if he didn't? "Are you sure, mon Nichola?" she purred, sliding her hands around his neck to pull him toward her. "I'm sure," he declared. He kept a miniscule space between them. If not physically, it was an emotional distance. "Why do you fight it so?" she whispered. "One night, that's all. Then you can go back to your little cops and robbers game." "I have to fight it. I have to," he said firmly. "No, you don't. Give in to your desires, to your needs. You want me. I want you. What is so wrong about that?" she spoke slowly, deliberately, molding her body against his. "I'm not the man you seduced 800 years ago, Janette. I won't let myself fall into that life again." "Who said anything about coming back to the community? Yes, I would welcome you with open arms, but I am offering something far more simple. You aren't the same man. That I realize. But the longer you ignore your needs, the more out of control you will become. Let me ease your pain." "I'm fine," he protested. She had not moved, nor did she seem willing to relent. "No, you aren't. You are strung so tight that you are about to break," she declared. "I told you, I'm fine," he declared. "Shall I invite your coroner friend over? Let her see how *fine* you are?" she asked gently, reaching behind him for the phone. "No," he exclaimed, turning glowing amber eyes to her. "It is for her safety, and that of your other mortal friends that I am here, my love. You are very close to the edge. Let me ease your pain," she whispered, bringing her wrist to her mouth and slicing a small incision on her hand. Holding it in offering, she sighed in delight as he kissed her palm, lapping the droplets of blood. "All right, yes, you win," he wrapped his arms around her. The merest taste of her familiar essence sparked a fire in him that had long been smoldering. "Yes, Janette, yes. I need you, I need your strength," he said fiercely. Their mouths met with a crushing kiss. With the haste of long-buried desires, he pulled off his shirt and tie while she slid her gown from her shoulders. Fangs unsheathed, he drew her to him. His kisses strayed up her arms to the juncture of her shoulder and neck. The vein stood at attention, waiting for him, calling for him. He drove his fangs within her, and drank deeply of her nectar. Sighing with delight, he felt the sting of her fangs. Their hopes, dreams, desires became one in the mixing of their blood. He pulled away, the stains of feeding dripped down his back as she leaned over him. "Are you sure you want to give this up, mon Nicola?" she whispered. "Janette, I can't hide anything from you and never have, but surely you can now understand what I want," he replied, sitting straighter. He eyed his full goblet, but knew that the flat bottled bovine would be even more bitter now that he'd sipped of another vampire. Especially Janette. "Ah, yes," she commented. She'd felt a flurry of emotion from her immortal sibling, but most prominent was the desire to be with a certain mortal woman. To her, the solution was simple, but nothing was ever easy with Nicholas. He would rather torment himself than do what he needed to do. "I do understand. I don't understand why you torture yourself so..." "I don't want to talk about it," he commented, standing and walking away. Leaning against the carved mantel, he spoke deliberately. "It has nothing to do with you. I hope you know that." "Of course," she agreed. "You don't need to talk. I will think on what you have shared with me." She stood, and slowly approached him. Taking his hand, she kissed it gently. "I will leave you to the solitude that you seem to prefer. I am ever present should you change your mind." "I won't," he declared. He watched as she left the room. As soon as the door to the bedroom closed, he collapsed on the couch. He might allow Janette to shelter with him for the day, but he would not share a bed with her. Sharing her blood was more than he'd intended. In his mind, this was the ultimate betrayal. To Natalie. To himself. He'd never declared any commitment to Natalie, but nonetheless, he felt one. Like the knight-errant gazing from afar, he longed for something he couldn't have. Faced with the ultimate temptation though, he had failed. He was too weak to hold himself back completely. It had been a very, very long time since he'd tasted the blood of another of his kind. The infusion of vampiric blood had restored the sagging energy in ways he'd not even realized were possible. He felt physically stronger than he had in decades. It only served to sicken him spiritually. What had it taken to restore him physically? Merely something that he'd foresworn along with the other urges and indulgences of the life he sought to escape. CHAPTER SIX "Haven't seen you in a few days," Natalie commented, watching Nick's restless pacing. "Hmm?" he grunted, stopping momentarily to lean against the steel autopsy table. He wasn't sure why he'd drifted over to the coroner's building that night. He didn't have any new cases, and she'd already provided what information she could regard his most recent homicide. He was still somewhat unsettled from seeing the script. Even with Janette's denials fresh in his mind, he was not convinced that she was as blameless as she claimed. It would not be the first time that she'd betrayed him, claiming it was for his own good. Even after sharing blood with her, he was uncertain of her innocence. He had not detected anything in her memories that was of concern, but his own emotional state made it difficult to get as clear a picture as he might. "You seem awfully preoccupied," she observed. "What's up?" "It's that last case," he admitted. He did not want to reveal all of his reasons for being distracted. Despite the fact that he'd not admitted his feelings to her, he felt as thought the activities with Janette were a betrayal. Explaining the nuances of acceptable vampire behavior was not a topic for current discussion no matter the reason. "The actor?" "Yes," he sighed. "We're playing the professional jealousy angle, so I read the script." "Hit a little close to home?" she asked casually. "A bit, yes," he nodded, settling on the corner of her desk. "How close?" she repeated. Despite knowing him for several years and becoming closer as a friend and confidante, she'd learned precious little of his origins or early years as a vampire. Her knowledge came in bits and pieces. He seldom slipped. What he told her was deliberate. "Close enough," he said with a non-committal shrug. "Closer than most movies, I would take it. Is it closer than Emily Weiss's novels?" she probed. She could almost see the veil of secrecy being dropped. It was her biggest frustration. He claimed to trust her, but that trust went only so far. "Nick?" she prompted. "I have to go," he said abruptly and was gone before she could protest. ***** The conversation, or lack thereof, bothered Natalie for the rest of the night. What had he read in the script that had him so spooked? Over the past several years, she and Nick had viewed every vampire film that she could find. Generally he found them humorous or would spend the entire time critiquing all of the flaws. While he hesitated to say much about the accuracy of the depiction of the vampires, he never paused in his commentary of the historical facts. This time there must be something more. Something that she needed to understand. She needed to read the script as well. Knowing that Nick would have signed out already, she went to the precinct at the end of her shift on the pretense of delivering reports. Neither Nick, nor Schanke were in the bullpen when she sauntered in, speaking casually to a few of the detectives as she passed out final reports. Usually they were sent by messenger or inter-office mail. This time, however, she had a purpose to coming in person. Dropping a folder on Nick's desk, she saw the thick envelope in his 'in' box. Judging by the size, it had to be the item of her quest. Tucking it in the stack of folders she breezed out, pausing only when she got to her car. As she suspected, it was the script. , she thought to herself as she drove home. **** The sun was high in the sky and the coffee pot was drained when Natalie finished reading the script. She found herself captivated by the story, drawn to the tale of medieval bravery and the struggle of a young crusading knight to reconcile himself to the betrayals of those he trusted. She could understand why the knight chose the seductive power of vampirism. A chill ran down her back as she realized, precisely, what Nick had gone through so many years before. He spoke very little of his mortal past, but his reaction to the movie's script told her more than words ever could. This *was* his story. As long as she'd known Nick, known of his 'condition', she knew he cursed his existence but she never knew why. She still didn't know why, but she did understand better what led him to make the decisions that he had. It was time for a serious discussion. **** Without bothering to call ahead, Natalie went directly to the loft. She was beyond the need for sleep now. Her mind was moving a mile a minute and until she spoke to Nick, she could not relax. The room was dark except for a single candle on the grand piano. Nick would still be sleeping. Settling into the overstuffed leather chair, Natalie pulled out the script and began re-reading it. She could wait. It didn't take long though, for Nick to appear at the top of the stairs, still wearing his pajamas and a loose red silk robe. "Nat?" he questioned, seeing her in the main room. "What are you doing here?" "I don't think we finished our discussion," she said simply, watching as he walked down the stairs, belting the robe as he came closer. "What discussion?" he asked, confused. She held up the script, "I had to see what was bugging you." "So did you?" he sighed, crossing to the refrigerator. He knew it bothered her, but *this* discussion called for fortification. "Yes," she said shortly, watching him drain half a bottle of blood. He usually did not drink that much around her unless he was trying to make a point. Coming over unannounced with the intent of forcing a discussion was probably not the wisest thing she'd ever done but she was tired of his evasiveness. "And I understand." "You understand?" he retorted. "How can you understand? You've never lived my life. You've never felt the insatiable hunger that drives you to do unspeakable things. You don't *know* anything. You don't *understand* anything." "Who's fault is that?" she commented sarcastically. She'd refrained from commenting on the quantity of blood that he drank, but she would not allow the conversation to degenerate any further. "I've never asked, and you've never told me. I try to help you, but you don't tell me if I *am* helping. I'm grasping at straws here and I don't know what and why I'm doing it." "Nat," he sighed, plopping on the couch with a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to turn this into a shouting match. You help me simply by being my friend." "I'm glad to hear that," she nodded with a tentative smile. "If you'd let me continue, what I meant was this. If this script parallels at all the events of your life, I understand why you'd make the decisions that you did. I understand why Sir Robert chose to become a vampire. Everything in his world was not as he believed. He was surrounded by death and was powerless to change anything, including his own destiny. It's no wonder that he'd take Sir Julius's offer." Nick was silent, reflecting on her words. She'd hit upon the very essence of his decision without a word from him. "Nick?" she prompted. "Am I right? Is that what's bugging you? Did this hit a raw nerve or something?" "I suppose," he spoke softly. "They even used the exact phrase that LaCroix used to call me back." "What's that?" she probed. Now that she had him talking, she wasn't about to stop him. "He promised me a thousand lifetimes, a power beyond my understanding," he recited, watching as Natalie thumbed through the pages finding the quote. She sat back in the chair, setting the sheaf of papers on the end table. "OK, so what has changed? He gave you all that he promised." "He only told me half the truth. He didn't tell me the cost," Nick replied coldly. "He didn't tell me that I'd become a killer." "But as a soldier, you'd killed men. What makes this so different?" Natalie used her most professional, matter-of-fact voice. If she was going to succeed in getting him to open up to her, she could not allow this to disintegrate into an emotional shouting match again. "That's different," he declared. "How is it different, Nick? Tell me," she pleaded. "I was never a soldier, so I don't understand." "It just *is*," he said stubbornly. "My hunger has driven me to do unspeakable things. I still could. I could do it now." She remained still, emotionless. She knew the tactic. He was trying to rattle her. "I know that. I also know that you don't. You stopped a long time ago, or so you claim." Their eyes met, and she continued, "You killed for sustenance. What is different from me eating meat?" "You don't take someone's husband in front of them, drain them dry," he spoke low, his voice taking on the rumbling low tones that heralded the vampire's emergence. "You don't *enjoy* it. You don't do it for sport." "All right, so I'm not intimately acquainted with my dinner," she acknowledged, ignoring his tone of voice. She refused to cave into his melancholy. "I also know that there are plenty of blood banks now. You could satisfy your hunger without killing. That doesn't explain everything." "Blood banks didn't exist 800 years ago, Nat," he commented. "I *know* that," she retorted. "There has to be more than that, or you would not be going to such lengths to try to go back now." "Are you saying that you won't help me?" "No, not at all. I think I understand what led you to become a vampire. What I don't understand is why you want to become mortal. What do you hope to accomplish?" "Redemption," he breathed. "Forgiveness in the eyes of God." "And you can't do that as a vampire?" she questioned. "Of course not," he asserted. "How can I say I will 'sin no more' if I'm still a creature of the night?" "I'm not a theologian, so tell me this. Which of the commandments do you violate simply by living as a vampire, Nick?" "All of them," Nick answered vehemently. "I find that hard to believe," she sighed. "Regardless, it seems to me that if you prayed and asked for God's forgiveness, it wouldn't matter if you were a vampire, or a mortal." "It would matter. It does matter. I can't do this anymore. I just can't live this life," his voice rose louder and with his last statement he stood and was gone in a flash. The shutters has risen during their conversation, and despite her repeated calls, he was gone. CHAPTER SEVEN Reporting to work with no sleep, Natalie was running on adrenaline and caffeine. Fortunately, there was enough work to keep her mind occupied. If she'd had to stare at the computer screen or a pile of papers, she would have fallen asleep for sure. Walking into the lounge for her third mug of coffee for the night, she was surprised to see Don Schanke coming down the hallway. "Nat, hey wait up," he called out. She paused at the door and waited until he was closer. "Awfully late for you to be up and around," she commented, glancing at the clock. "Blame Nick," he shrugged. "Oh? What did Nick do?" "It's more, what did Nick *not* do?" Don grinned, following Natalie into the lounge and helping himself to a package of crackers. "Like show up to work tonight." "Nick called in?" "Not exactly. We got a new case at shift change. He didn't show up at the scene, so I'm doing a little recon before I go back to the shop." "For Nick or for the case? I didn't get that call, so I can't help you with the case," Natalie replied with a casualness that did not reveal her true feelings. "The body might be here soon. You asking me to do the post tonight?" "That's okay. Frank was at the scene. If he does the post tomorrow morning, that's fine. I'm more worried about my partner. You seen him today?" "No, I haven't," she lied. There was no point in telling Don about her discussion earlier. It would raise more questions than it answered. Her relationship with Nick and their work together was carefully concealed both from their mortal co-workers and from the vampire community. "Sure about that?" "You know something I don't?" Natalie questioned. "Just that Nickie-boy watches you a little closer than the average co-worker. I think there's more going on here than either of you are telling old Donnie." "You have a very fertile imagination," she smiled. "If it makes you feel better, I'll do a little search mission for you. I've got the codes to Nick's loft. I'll go check on him." "You have the keys to the castle?" Don's eyes lit up. "Oh, wait'll I see him. Just friends?" "Don?" she sighed. "Leave it alone. For my sake, please." "All right, all right," he grumbled. He was secretly glad that his suspicions were true. Few men gave a woman free access to their residence unless there was more than just friendship. Nick might be secretive, but his feelings for Natalie were evident in every glance. He just didn't know why the two of them were choosing to keep secret what was so obvious to those that knew them. She waited until Don was out of sight before going back to the office to get her purse and coat. After a brief word to the receptionist she headed to the isolated warehouse where Nick lived. It was dark. The caddy was still in the garage but he was not there. His words just before he'd fled the loft that afternoon were fresh in her mind... . If she didn't know better, she'd think that to be a suicidal statement. Only once before had she seen him in that much of a funk. That was after a failed attempt to use a '12 step program' to attack his addiction to blood. His solution was to go to the Raven and drink heavily. She had found him there after Janette had called Schanke. Her contact with Janette had been brief but tense. She knew that the vampiress had a relationship with Nick but she didn't know much more. It was worth facing whatever attitude Janette chose to give her to find Nick, or at find out if her fears were justified. The club was much as she remembered from her infrequent visits before. Dark, noisy, crowded. At one point in her life, she had enjoyed going dancing with friends at similar clubs but that had been years ago. Letting her eyes adjust to the dark, she surveyed the crowd before she saw the tall dark haired woman standing at the end of the bar. Their eyes met, as if Janette had been expecting her, or knew that she was there. It gave Natalie a chill to realize that in all likelihood, Janette had seen her or heard her enter. Taking a deep breath she pushed her way through the crowd. "Doctor, a pleasure to see you again," Janette commented, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "You can cut the attitude, Janette. I just want to talk." "Nicholas is not here," she observed, taking a long drought from her goblet. Natalie stood firm, unphased by her efforts to shake her. After her last meeting with Nick, she wasn't sure that anyone would be able to rattle her. "I didn't think he would be. I came to see you." "Oh? Indeed, I am curious now," she studied the mortal woman closely and saw no sign of fear. "What could you possibly wish to speak to me about?" "What do you think?" Natalie retorted. "What, or whom, shall I say, do we have in common?" "So you wish to *discuss* Nicholas?" she questioned, her tone holding the barest veneer of civility. "If this is an attempt to ask me to leave him alone, I assure you that it is *he* who seeks me out, not I. We have a relationship that you could not even begin to understand and always will." "I know that. I understand more than you think I do." Natalie kept her voice even. No matter how her feelings toward Nick had grown, she did not know that they were mutual. It would not serve any purpose to alienate her only resource to understanding a man who had lived centuries. Janette paused for a moment before responding. It did not surprise her that Nick would befriend such a strong woman. She had used her best verbal and non-verbal intimidation skills and Natalie held her ground. Setting her glass on the bar, she commented, "I suppose that Nicholas is out serving and protecting and that is why you are so certain that he isn't here." "Truthfully, I don't know where he is. He didn't show up for work tonight and his partner asked me to find him," she acknowledged. Leaning closer, she let herself show the emotion that she'd held back. Fear. It was in her expression and voice. "He said some things tonight that bother me. I'm worried about his state of mind." "You think he might do himself harm?" Janette asked, her voice softening. She feared the same thing. If he was acting self-destructive around his mortal friend then perhaps it was a valid concern. Considering that he treated his employment among mortals as more than a mere diversion, the fact that he would fail to report to the job he took so seriously was indeed a worrisome issue. "He might," Natalie replied. She must have hit a chord, since there was an abrupt change in attitude. No longer was Janette giving her the disdainful attitude. "I think we need to take this discussion somewhere more private," she commented and led Natalie through a long corridor to a back office. It was quieter, but just as dark. She unlocked the door and stood aside for Natalie to enter the room. Pouring a goblet full of wine, she gestured to a pair of overstuffed chairs. Handing the goblet to Natalie, she sat opposite. A glass bottle was on the end table with a goblet. Janette paused to fill her own glass before commenting, "Don't worry, it's a merlot." "Thank you, I didn't think you'd give me the same beverage as yours." "You know what I am drinking?" "Of course, I do. I'm not stupid. I know what you would be drinking." "That does not bother you?" Janette asked, taking a very deliberate drink. "From the woman who has been urging Nicholas to abstain from doing the same?" "Look, I have no arguments with your lifestyle. I'm a doctor, I'm only doing what Nick wants. He doesn't want to be a vampire. He doesn't want to kill to feed his hunger. I know you don't share his ideas. It isn't my place to make judgments regarding your choice of beverage. I would hope that it's donated and if it isn't, I really would rather not know." "Enlightened attitude," she mused. "Not exactly what I expected, but then again, we really have not spoken on such issues. Now then, why did you seek me out?" Natalie straightened in the chair, still somewhat self-conscious around the more elegantly dressed vampire. She'd never been in this section of the club, and had really not spent much time with any vampire except for Nick. "I'm worried about Nick." "Worried?" Janette prompted. "We had a discussion this evening and he said some things that bother me and then he didn't show up at work tonight. I didn't know where else to turn." "What *exactly* did he say?" "That he couldn't live this life," Natalie quoted. "Perhaps he is moving on. We do that fairly frequently," she commented casually. Ever since the day she'd spent with him, Janette had felt unsettling emotions from Nick. She knew he was alive, and unhurt, but that was all she knew for sure. "No, it isn't that. He left very suddenly. I'm worried that he might do harm to himself." Janette sighed. She had detected a strong burst of emotion from him earlier that evening. Without their sire to hold the threads of their connection together, she only would feel very strong outbursts and would not be able to discern the reasons for it. Even with their very recent encounter, she did not feel their bond as she once had. "What were you discussing?" "It's complicated," Natalie explained. "There's a case we're working on." "The movie. Yes, I know. It was *not* a vampire, I assure you." "I know," she acknowledged. In a way, it didn't surprise her that Janette already knew about the movie. "I figured that part out. Well, Nick read the script and he's been acting weird ever since." "Yes, I can believe that," she sighed. "Janette, I read the script too. I figured out what bothered him and went to his place before sunset to talk to him. He told me of the parallels to his own life, even to use quotations that he recalled." "Ah, so that is why he accused me of revealing secrets," she nodded. "I wondered where he was drawing connections. Most Hollywood interpretations of the vampire life are so laughable that I did not take him seriously." "We got into a more serious discussion than we've ever had before. I asked him why he wants to be mortal. I don't know. He just sort of snapped and disappeared." "And so you came to me?" she questioned. She still was not sure how to handle Nick's mortal friend. While she was getting to understand the young woman in a clearer sense, she was not sure how far to go in their discussion. "How do you know that I am not sheltering him so that he can move on?" "If you are, tell me and I'll leave. I won't worry if that's what he wants," Natalie replied. "I hope that he'd at least say 'good-bye' when he does move on, but if he doesn't, well, I can't do anything about it." She eyed the woman suspiciously. "You don't know where he is? Do you?" "No, I don't," Janette acknowledged. "I just wanted to know your intent." "I'm worried about him. Is it possible for a vampire to commit suicide?" Natalie asked softly. Janette snapped to attention, focusing directly on the other woman's heartbeat. Her concern was honest. She'd risked her life to come to someone she might consider a rival. Perhaps it was time for some honesty. "Yes, it is. Did Nicholas ever tell you of Erika?" "The 'old friend' he lost several months ago?" "Yes," she confirmed. "Did you know her? Nick talked a little about her but he was in one of his self-destructive moods and didn't say much." "Yes, I knew her. She was an actress and play-writer that had a relationship with Nicholas in the 16th century. I'd watched over her for the past decade when she came to Toronto. She could not keep up. She grew tired of living and walked into the dawn." "Do you think Nick could do the same thing?" "I suppose it is possible, but Nicholas is different. Erika's depression lasted several centuries. She did not grow and change with time. She was still in the theater after all this time. Still writing plays and performing. She had always said that when she was no longer contributing to society that she would end her life. I suppose it was her time. It happens. No matter how much you love something, 500 years is a long time to continue the same activity and lifestyle. I have done numerous things over the centuries. I may try fashion design next. One cannot stagnate, or eternity becomes a chore and not a joy. These lives that we create to interact with the world are our playthings. They are diversions to make eternity more interesting, but we cannot take them seriously." "Nick does," Natalie interrupted. "I know he does," she acknowledged. "He always has taken life seriously. He has been hurt more than I can tell you. He's been forced to relocate, made friends only to watch them grow old and die. It takes great mental fortitude to survive when all around you do not." "You've known Nick longer than anyone. Do you think it possible that he's given up?" Natalie could not help but show the fear that had prompted her to seek out a woman some might think to be her rival. "Hmmm, I doubt it but your concern is justified," Janette mused. "He has great strength. He adapts well to changing technology, changing language. He has held numerous professional roles." "But he wants to go back, be mortal." "He had that notion the first night after LaCroix brought him over," Janette sighed. "I thought we had gotten past it when he seemed to embrace the life for the first few centuries. The questions and distance grew greater and he tried to leave us for most of the 19th century." "Leave you?" "Well, leave LaCroix," she explained. "Our sire was never far from either of us. He gave me greater rein than he ever gave Nicholas, but I never disappointed him. Nicholas has, and on more than one occasion. It has only been in the past sixty or so years that Nicholas has succeeded in being more than one step ahead or that LaCroix would leave him alone." "Other than to thwart his efforts to be cured," Natalie observed. "Can you blame him?" Janette asked. "Would you not protect your offspring from harm? Our Nicholas may have adapted to the vampire life and has the mental fortitude to live for eternity but he is so careless. He leaps before he looks and always has. He would no sooner be happy as a mortal than he is a vampire. I do not believe the grass is greener, so to speak, on the other side. He does. He is looking at mortality to bring him the happiness that he has not found as a vampire. Not that he was truly happy when he *was* mortal, so I'm not really sure what he wants." "Redemption," Natalie commented thoughtfully. This was not a conversation she would have ever predicted. She had always assumed that Janette would know all that there was to know about Nick, including why he wanted to regain mortality. "That's what he wants. Redemption for his sins." "Hmmm. Well, we don't need worry about suicide then. If he is still concerned about matters of faith, then he will not take his own life. I vaguely recall some prohibition by the church of such actions." "Yes, especially if he was Catholic," Natalie confirmed. "You need to question that?" she could not help being sarcastic. "That *was* the church in the 13th century, Natalie. He was a man of faith. That was one of the things that attracted LaCroix. He might say that he no longer believes in the church, but I don't believe him." "So his faith won't allow him to take his own life. That doesn't mean he won't put himself in a position where another might take his life," Natalie added. Shooting her an intense glance, Janette nodded. "Perhaps that is why he is so often in law enforcement." "But you can't be killed by conventional means, so that doesn't make sense." "No, it makes a lot of sense to me," Janette said thoughtfully. "He gets shot frequently does he not?" "Yeah," Natalie laughed nervously. "If I had a dime for every bullet that I dug out of him, I'd be able to retire." "So you see, he *is* allowing himself to be symbolically killed in place of another, a mortal who would not bounce back." She leaned back in her chair and thoughtfully swirled the wine in her glass. "What can I do?" Natalie asked softly. She had not thought of it in that manner but Janette was right. "Right now? Nothing. He will contemplate his unlife in some secret place for a while and then he'll come back. This is not unusual behavior for him. He won't tell you where he went. He never does. I, too, am concerned about Nicholas's well-being. Physically and emotionally." She stood next to Natalie's chair. Their conversation had convinced her that Nick was right. This woman could be trusted. In fact, having her as an ally might serve her purpose in more ways than she'd imagined. "I think we will get further if we work together and not separately. Besides, it has been a long time since I've had a friend who was not of the community." "What difference does that make?" "Among our kind, age brings increased strength and skill as well as social position. Without revealing my precise age, I will tell you that I am older than Nicholas and there is no one else in Toronto that is more than half my age. I am treated with deference as is proper but I have no peers. No equals that I may speak my mind with." "So you want to do a little 'girl-talk'?" "I suppose that is the best term," she smiled. "You are welcome to come back, if you so desire. I believe we have more in common than you think." "I'll keep that in mind," Natalie agreed. To her this seemed quite ironic. Nick had done his utmost to set them up to be enemies, or at least rivals. That they would become the unlikeliest of friends was unexpected to say the least. She could not be certain that Janette did not have some other motive, but was willing to explore this alliance. CHAPTER EIGHT Nick reappeared at the precinct the following night, as if nothing had happened. When asked, he merely shrugged and mumbled something about "following a lead." It was not totally foreign behavior for him. As penance, Schanke had left a stack of missing persons reports to collate and sort while cross checking against the case that had come in while Nick was 'unavailable'. Menial tasks that he knew Nick would detest. Knowing better than to complain, Nick spent the evening at his desk. It was not that he was really *avoiding* Natalie, but he didn't know how to respond to her right now. She had, without his assistance, figured out more about his psyche than anyone ever before. Her assessment was uncannily accurate. Some of her questions were leading him to think seriously about his quest. He could not articulate why he wanted mortality. It had been his desire for so long that he'd forgotten the reasons. At first it was the killing, the insatiable hunger that fought reason. But did that same rationale apply in the era of blood banks and voluntary donation? He barely noticed the pair of nervous men who appeared toward the end of his shift and were closeted in conversation with the captain. They were at a standstill with the murder of the actor. No one knew anything, and Nick had not been able to find anything in the script that would suggest professional jealousy. At least nothing that was in writing. He still had his suspicions. For once, he regretted not being present at the questioning of the other cast members. *** Stonetree greeted the men wearily. He had nothing to report to the producers of the film and was growing impatient with the inability to find anything to implicate anyone. "If you're here to look for answers, I'm afraid I don't have any." "No, actually, we're here to talk about another issue," the taller of the two men commented, taking the chair that the captain had gestured to. "Go on," Stonetree prompted, taking out a pad of paper. "I apologize for not saying anything earlier but Bob has been reluctant to report all the incidents," the other man said with a sigh. "Incidents?" Stonetree questioned. "You know anything about this Paul?" "I guess that's the best way to describe them. At first we thought they were just pranks," he replied. "Any project is bound to have a jokester on the set. Usually they're things like giving someone a dummied script revision or hanging things on their door. Mike has seen more serious things happening." "Things had started before the murder, but no one noticed. We had a lighting guy fall off a ladder yesterday. I thought it was an accident but on closer inspection, we could tell that there'd been some tampering." "Is the guy okay?" Stonetree asked quickly. "Oh, yeah... some bruises and he was a little shaken up. He wasn't up high. The pranks have gotten vicious is all Bob told us. Makeup with black goo hidden inside, costumes falling apart, cockroaches in dressing rooms, that sort of thing. We had a sound board spark and one of the technicians was shocked but wasn't hurt. " "Is it possible that this could be related to the murder?" Mike asked with obvious reluctance. "I wouldn't rule anything out," Stonetree said thoughtfully. "I think the best option at this point is to have one of my men in the studio undercover." "Whatever you think," Paul replied quickly. "I'm happy to cooperate with the police in any way that I can. We have a lot of money invested in the film, so we'll do whatever it takes. Are you thinking of getting someone on a tech crew or what? We have union rules that need to be watched so if you're thinking of a technician, I'll need to do more preparation." "I had spoken to your director about using an undercover officer," Stonetree added. "We agreed at that time to wait until you were actively casting some parts. He and I felt that putting someone on a crew would not be as effective as having our man come into the studio as an extra." "That makes sense," Mike mused. "There were so many cops investigating, is it possible to have someone who has not been to the studio?" "As a matter of fact, one of my detectives who has been doing a lot of the background work on the case has not actually been to the scene," Stonetree replied. "He's on duty right now. I'll let you meet him." He rose and went to the door, "Knight," he called out, gesturing for Nick to come to the office. Seated opposite the desk were two casually dressed men. Nick glanced at them curiously when he entered, and stood against the bookshelf. "Cap?" he questioned. "These are the producers of the film that we've been investigating, Paul James and Mike Izzo." He nodded toward the two men. "Nick Knight," Nick extended his hand to greet each man. "Nick is partnered with Detective Schanke so he knows the case." "Don't think I met you yet," Paul commented, looking at Mike for confirmation. "There were a lot of cops there, but if you'd been at the studio as much as Detective Schanke, I'm sure I'd have run into you." "I only work the night shift, so I haven't actually been to the set." Nick explained. "Is there something I can help you with? I'm sure the captain has told you where we are." "Yes, there is and I think this will work," Mike commented. Seeing Nick's questioning look, Stonetree held up a hand to silence further comments. "Paul and Mike came over tonight to discuss certain incidents that have been happening on the set that are arousing some concern." "Incidents?" Nick questioned. "Nothing serious enough alone to cause us to call the police, but when you add them up, I have to wonder," Paul explained. "Loose lights, tampered costumes. Some things were simply annoyances or could be pranks." "Since the murder is still unsolved, folks are a little on edge though. It took a while before Bob even said anything to us, but since the filming schedule is already behind because we've needed to recast a fairly major role, we can't afford too many more delays." Mike explained. "So where do I fit in?" Nick questioned. "We think that someone on the inside has a grudge, or doesn't want the film to be completed. We want someone to go undercover." Stonetree explained. "Ever done any acting?" Mike asked. "A bit," Nick replied cautiously. "Theater or film?" "Theater," Nick commented. "But it's been a while, and strictly amateur stuff," he said quickly. "What do you have in mind?" "You'd come to an open casting call as an extra," Stonetree explained. "The only ones that know you're a cop are here. The director and casting director won't know that you're a police officer. They've been told that we're putting an undercover cop on the set but they won't know when, where or who it is. It's up to you to either get on the set as an extra, or get a small part." "You don't want me to simply be part of the crew?" Nick asked. While he had more acting experience than he'd *ever* say, he thought it more likely to be on the crew. "No, we want you to have access to the dressing rooms, and conversation among the cast," Stonetree said. "If you're an extra, you're more likely to have down time. If you're crew, they'll put you to work and you won't be able to do as much investigating." "Haven't you pretty much casted everything?" Nick questioned, glancing between the producers. "When we lost Marcus, we were about halfway through filming. His role was fairly substantial and we'd had to re-shoot a lot of scenes. Because of the cost, we've re-worked the script and increased the storyline involving Jake who is our other lead. We still need to recast Sir Robert, and some minor parts that were developed as part of Jake's back-story. With all that's happened in the past week, we had two other actors walk out. They are convinced that the movie is haunted or some such nonsense." "But you're still finishing the movie? You aren't going to simply stop and say forget it?" Nick questioned. "No, I'm committed to the project," Mike answered. "Besides, Jake's agent insisted on payment up front, so if we don't finish and air it, we're out a lot of money." "I knew that guy was trouble," Paul mumbled under his breath. "Well, it's too late to do anything now," Mike responded with a tired sigh. "You think Jake is behind all the accidents?" Nick questioned. "Is he capable of violence?' "I wouldn't put it past him, at least the pranks. I don't think he'd kill anyone. That isn't his style." "No, he'd rather embarrass them on camera," Paul commented. "Like a costume that was missing a few seams. It was funny the first time, but I've seen that happen on three projects that he was involved in. It's an old joke and isn't funny anymore." "I get the picture," Nick said grimly. "I'll watch him." **** Spending the rest of the shift compiling progress reports on all the work he had in progress, Nick never left his desk. He was accustomed to abstaining while working but had not fed that evening before coming in to work. After his discussion with Natalie he'd flown to his favorite meditation spot. It was an outcropping on Lake Ontario's rocky shore that was a flight of several hours duration. There was a nearby cave that he used for shelter when the sun's rays became harmful. The last thing that he expected was to hear the familiar rhythm of Natalie's heart beat approach. That and the ever-present fragrance of her perfume, both what she applied and what was her natural aroma... her rich, warm blood called to him. It was stronger than usual. Without conscious thought, his fangs pressed against his upper lip. Willing himself into submission, he looked up, and gave her a small smile of greeting. "Nat?" he questioned. "So you've reappeared," she commented. "Had us worried there." "I'm fine," he assured her, standing and taking a few steps back as she got closer. He knew what it was that made his senses come alive. That one week every month that he had to stay as far away from her as possible. The temptation was so great. Her blood was too accessible. If he stayed one more minute, he would not be able to hold himself back. "I have to go," he said suddenly and rushed out the door. He was gone before Natalie could respond. She looked around in confusion she thought to herself. Nick had done his share of disappearing acts but never twice in a row. Forgetting to finish the task that had brought her to the precinct in the first place, Natalie headed out to her car. She pulled out her cell phone and began calling him. First the home phone. Next the cell phone. Then she paged him. Repeatly. There was no response. It was time for another 'recon' mission. As it was the other evening, the loft was dark. She knew that he had left the caddy at the precinct. She let herself in, and called out several times. "Nick, I'm not giving up. I just want to talk." She could not tell if he was there, but knew that he would not respond to her. She'd come back *after* she went to her new resource. From his perch, high above the skylight, Nick watched her leave. Only then did he come inside. He had feared that she would wait for him. He could not face her. Not until he had his desires under control. Her protein shakes could not satisfy his hunger and to be around her right now would be dangerous. Only blood would ease his pain. The cold steer blood was a pale imitation of what he wanted, what he needed. She could give it to him but he was too embarrassed to ask. The fact that he even wanted it was a mortifying thought. CHAPTER NINE The bouncer gave her a bored nod as he held open the door. Pushing her way through the mass of people to reach the bar, she could not help but notice that she was getting a lot of second glances. She had not frequented clubs much since her university days but she knew leering looks and it puzzled her. "Come with me," a terse voice came from behind her before she had a chance to speak to the bartender and a cool hand grasped her upper arm. Natalie looked up and saw Janette standing next to her with an expression that bordered on concern. Obediently she followed the woman to a back room and watched curiously as Janette closed the door firmly. "Are you naïve, or simply ignorant?" she asked harshly. "What are you talking about?" Natalie asked with genuine confusion. "Hmm... you are both, it would seem," she announced, gesturing to a pair of overstuffed chairs in the far corner of the room. Filling two goblets, she handed one to Natalie and sat in the other chair. "If you'd prefer a different beverage, let me know." Natalie sipped from the wine and looked around. They were in Janette's private office, much as they had the first time that she'd come to the club. "I did come here to speak to you, but I didn't plan on being hustled into your office. What just happened out there?" "Surely you understand what kind of club this is," she commented and waited for Natalie to nod slowly. "And I am sure you realized the attention you were attracting?" "Well, yes. I haven't had that many men look at me since... well, I don't think I've ever had that many men look that way at me," she admitted with an embarrassed smile. "Before you inflate your ego too much, I assure you that it had nothing to do with your looks. Did you not notice that the women were also watching your every move?" She smiled at the discomfort that Natalie showed clearly. "It has everything to do with the calendar." "Calendar?" "Don't be stupid," Janette admonished harshly. "Are you so foolish as to not realize that we all know what time of the month it is?" With Natalie's continued silence and puzzled look, she sighed before replying, "You are menstruating, are you not?" Natalie flushed crimson, holding her arms tight against her middle. "Yes," she squeaked. "How do you know?" Janette simply tapped her nose, and refilled Natalie's wine glass. "It was not wise for you to come in here unescorted. Even the young ones who know you are Nicholas's friend were finding it hard to resist. All of us noticed." "I didn't realize," she began. Shifting her gaze to far corners of the dark room, afraid to make eye contact, she spoke in a cautious tone. "So Nick knows too?" "Most assuredly. He would always know." "He's never said anything," she whispered. "That does not surprise me. Nicholas is too much the gentleman to speak of such matters. I would imagine that he avoids you more often than not when you are having your cycle." Natalie was silent for a moment. It had never crossed her mind. "That explains it," she said softly. "Explains what?" Janette questioned, draining her glass and then refilling it. "I was at the precinct. I'd just said 'hello' to Nick and he backed away from me and then left in a big hurry." Nodding with understanding, Janette took her hand lightly, "Natalie, it isn't your fault. He is unaccustomed to speaking of matters of intimacy. He would never *tell* you. He probably did not feed appropriately and was losing control." "I went to his place, but he wasn't there," she commented with an embarrassed shrug. "If I'd known..." "Yes, I know. You have more common sense," she leaned back in the chair and spoke deliberately. "Or at least you have sense about things that you've been taught. I would not expect you to know that I can smell your blood. All the time." "Not just...?" "No. Our senses are enhanced." She explained. "Natalie, I did not mean to embarrass you. I can believe that Nicholas had not warned you of this particular issue but I am sure that he would not be happy that you came here unescorted at any time." She stood and walked over to her desk, pulling out a small envelope which she handed to Natalie without a word. Opening it, Natalie withdrew a key, and looked at Janette, puzzled. "What's this for?" "Your protection," she smiled. "It is the key to the back door. Should you desire further discussion and I am not readily available, please come upstairs to my private apartment. It would not be wise for you to spend much time unescorted in the club. I am also thinking that perhaps it is time that someone told you enough to allow your safe interaction with our kind." Looking at her confused, Natalie answered carefully, "safe interaction?" "You've known of us for several years and you've maintained silence. I trust you and I know that Nicholas does as well. I am sure that you have questions. I doubt that Nicholas has allowed you to voice them, much less answered them. For as much as he says he wants to be mortal, he probably has not told you enough about himself to allow you to really do the sort of research that you'd need to do. If you have questions that he will not answer, come to me. Unless it is something that the knowledge of which would cause you danger, I will clarify anything you wish." "Thanks," she began, looking at Janette with obvious confusion. "I can't help asking you why. We've not exactly been friends, why are you doing this?" "For exactly the reasons that we discussed the last time that you came here. I have an ulterior motive, you realize." "And that is?" "Nicholas's well being. We have a bond that you would not understand. What hurts him, hurts me." She was firm, matter-of-fact but her expression revealed the deep emotion she felt. "Perhaps if you understood more about our kind, you'd be able to help him more." "Okay," she said cautiously. "So you are telling me that your sense of smell invades my privacy, is that it?" "There is a reason and it isn't to invade anyone's privacy," Janette commented. "Natalie, there have not always been blood banks or the ability to bottle blood." "I know," she acknowledged. "Then you know what our senses are designed to do. Our vision, hearing, smell, are all designed for life in the darkness and the ability to find and track our prey." Natalie shuddered at Janette's words. She knew intellectually that she spoke the truth. It did not make it easier to hear. "I know that is not what you want to hear, but it might help you understand." "I....I know," Natalie said softly. "That is the life that Nick is trying to escape. The life that treats humanity as prey." "It is what we are," Janette said gently. "He never did acclimate completely to it. There was always an underlying current of guilt. In any event, I would guess that Nicholas was hungry and when you arrived, he could not help dropping his fangs. His body knew what it needed, even if his mind would not allow it." "So he took off," Natalie responded, finishing the thought. "Exactly. Rest assured, he is somewhere wallowing in guilt for allowing himself to 'lose control'." "But he didn't lose control," Natalie protested. "In his mind, he did. He walks a very fine tightrope between worlds." She drank another full goblet. Even being well fed, Janette knew why Nick would not want to be with his friend right now. The blood scent was overpowering. If he desired her as a woman in any degree, this would be torture. Having shared blood and therefore, memories with her immortal sibling just that week, she knew precisely what he felt about Natalie. Those feelings were not of a platonic nature either. "Then I should just stay away from him for the rest of the week?" she protested. "How can I do that? What if I am called to a scene that he is covering?" "I'll talk to him," she offered. "Wait until tonight and then call him. He will be in a better frame of mind. Think of it this way. You have known him for several years, and did not know of his reaction to your cycle. You simply caught him in a weak moment." She paused, and took Natalie's hand loosely. "As you have drawn closer to my world, you will learn things that Nicholas has hidden. His intent was not to deceive but to protect. Much as you might resent it, he is concerned for your safety." "I can take care of myself," she protested. "Among your own kind, yes, you can. Against vampires, I think not. You do not know what you are up against. Heed our warning, Natalie. Allow Nicholas and I to protect you." Natalie nodded silently. Her first tendency was to protest anyone 'protecting' her, but there was something in Janette's eyes that told her that this was not something to shrug off. CHAPTER TEN Landing softly in the center of the room, a bottle cradled in the crook of her arm, Janette shook her head with exasperation at the sight before her. Disheveled, paint stains splattered across his shirt, Nick was taking out his aggression on a large canvas. The abstract painting was taking on a life of its own with the intensity of Nick's emotions. "What do you want?" he asked irritably. He did not take his eyes off the canvas. "Interesting," she mused, her calm voice belied the urge she felt to shake him senseless. "What are you calling it?" "Janette, I asked you a question," he commented with a sigh, setting the brush on the edge of the frame. He turned to see her sitting in the center of the couch, leaning back comfortably. "I had a visitor at the club this evening," she explained, uncorking her bottle. "I'm sure you have a lot of visitors at the club or you wouldn't be in business. What makes you think I would be interested?" He pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of goblets before sitting in the chair opposite her. It was quite obvious that she had something to say to him, and would not leave until she had said it. "Ah, but I think you would be interested in this visitor," she replied, filling her glass. She gestured to his glass but he held his hand over it. "No thanks, Janette. I have my own." She sighed. "That is why I am here." She took a drink before continuing. "My visitor was your friend Natalie." "Natalie was at the Raven? Tonight?" he asked with obvious concern. He stood, as if to leave. "Relax, mon frere, she is safe. A bit more educated, perhaps, but safe for the time being. I would assume that she's gone to her office. She left the club an hour ago." "More educated?" He frowned. He had long discouraged Natalie from seeking further information about the vampire community. This was precisely what he had hoped would not happen. "You and I both know why tonight was not a good night for her to decide to come to the Raven. Too bad *she* did not," she commented. "What did you do with her?" "Nothing. I pulled her into the office and explained a few facts. Facts that you should have told her already." "Facts that are dangerous for her to know," Nick said emphatically. "Nicholas, how long has she known of our existence? Two years? Three? She is not likely to stay away from the club simply because you say so. She does not fear us." "She should." "Well, she doesn't. You cannot continue this half-hearted method of protecting her. She already knows enough to condemn her in the eyes of the Enforcers. To tell her enough to protect her from the rest of our kind is merely being prudent." "So you took it upon yourself to endanger her?" "Nicholas," she sighed. "Your friend is a big girl. She might have discovered your secret by accident but she has chosen to further her own knowledge." She smiled at Nick's quick glance and angry frown. That must have hit a nerve. "If you are her friend, you owe it to her." "I won't put a death sentence on her head," he declared. "And I resent your interference." "What interference?" Janette sighed. "All I told her was something you should have told her long ago. If you are going to befriend mortal women and not eat a proper diet, you ought to tell them why you are going to pull disappearing acts." "She told you?" he asked, dismayed. "Yes, she did. Nicholas, she is concerned for your well-being. I am as well. It is quite obvious to me that she is attracted to you, and you care for her. What I don't understand is why you deny it." "It's too dangerous," Nick said emphatically. "It need not be," she sighed. "But that is a topic for another day. I did not intend to come here to lecture you, but once again I find myself in that very awkward position." She stood and cautiously moved to the couch, sitting along side him. "You have needs, Nicholas. The longer that you neglect them, the more they will control you. What we did the other day helped but it was not enough. You need me." "What you are suggesting is a betrayal, Janette. I won't do it." His voice was firm. She stood, giving him a long gaze. "It is an open offer, mon chere. Someday, you will. I can wait." Without giving him a chance to respond, she rose and was through the skylight. *** After a shower and shave, Nick was ready to face his actions. He was chagrined to admit it, but Janette was right. He'd hidden things from Natalie that he had not needed to. Some things about his vampiric life were unpleasant to contemplate. One of those things was how he could unconsciously react to the merest scent of blood. With years of working among mortals, especially mortal women, he had become adept in hiding sudden changes. Most of the time, no one noticed. Natalie was different. She always had been. She noticed and confronted him for his actions. Dialing the familiar number, he waited to hear her voice. "Nat?" he began. "So... feeling better?" she questioned. "A bit, yes." "I assume that Janette came over?" "Umm hmmm, she did, and she put me in my place." "Oh?" "I apologize for running off like that," he continued. "Well, if I'd known how you'd react, I'd have kept my distance," she sighed heavily before continuing in a more reproachful tone,. "Nick, we've known each other for three years. How could you not tell me?" "Nat, I'm sorry. Truly I am," he replied. "That's just something that a gentleman doesn't speak about. Especially to a lady." "Ah, medieval chivalry lives on," she sighed. "I am what I am, Nat," he said with a resigned sigh. "What does that mean?" she asked, her annoyance barely concealed. Much as she enjoyed their friendship, there were times that his old-fashioned attitudes were a bit hard to take. "Some habits are ingrained and the way I behave around women is something I learned long ago. You might be able to teach an old dog some new tricks..." "I get the picture, Nick," she said dryly. "So what did you come to the precinct to tell me?" he asked, hoping that this form of apology would be enough and she wouldn't push him further. "Oh, I just had the final report on the Mollar case." "Anything interesting?" his voice lightened. Anything to keep the conversation purely professional. "Nothing surprising. As we thought, it was self inflicted," she commented. "So what is this I hear about you going undercover?" "Word travels fast," he laughed. "I just got that assignment this evening." "So, it's true, then." "Yes, I'm going to an open casting call on Monday." "If they only knew that your entire *life* is an act," she mused. "I'll try to act natural," he laughed. "I'm supposed to be an extra." "Well, break a leg or something." "Thanks. Nat, I'll try to be more honest with you. I promise." "I won't hold my breath. Like you said..." Natalie's voice trailed off. At least she had him talking again. CHAPTER ELEVEN "Name?" a bored looking woman tapped her pen against the battered clipboard as she perused the line of men waiting entrance to the studio. "Nick Hubbard," Nick replied with an equally bored tone. His goal was to fit in, and judging from the length of the line, fatigue would be the natural response, no matter how eager one was. "Hmm, yeah, your agent called," she checked his name off the list. "Take one of those forms and fill it out. When you're done, take it to the next table." Nick took a clipboard from the stack. The forms were fairly standard demographic information and a brief release form. He glanced around the room, which was filling up with men of all ages, races, sizes. All seduced by the opportunity to be seen on screen, to be made immortal on film. **** "OK, show us what you've got," Nick stood in the barren stage, surrounded by hot lights. Natalie's words were forgotten as he skimmed the page he'd just been handed. Taking a breath to clear his mind, he put himself in the mind of the character. A 13th century knight, describing his experiences in the Crusades. It was too real, too close to his own life. It wasn't acting. It was life. Finishing the reading, Nick put the paper on the table and turned, as if to leave. "Wait a minute," the director tipped back his cap. "I know you have an agent, but there isn't anything of note on your resume. You sure you haven't done this before?" "Not since high school," Nick replied. That was the cover that he'd agreed upon. While Larry Merlin could have easily come up with an actor's union card and an obscure resume filled with foreign films for him, Nick wanted to maintain a low profile. He was not convinced that within the small world of film it was possible to forge a history. "Hmmm. Where have you been hiding?" the other director asked with a smile. She turned to the other director who nodded with an equally enthusiastic look. "I think we can find a place for you." "Yeah?" Nick glanced between the two. "We've got some more guys to see, but we'll make a decision by the end of the day. Jenna Mason, our casting director will be in touch." He stood, gesturing to the woman who sat next to him and held a hand out, "I'm Bob Hewes, director of the project. It's good to meet you, Nick." "Likewise," Nick responded, shaking their hands. **** "They done with the cattle call?" leaning against a stone ledge, two men occupied a darkened set. "Yeah, Jake, the last one stumbled through the scene an hour ago," one of them laughed. "I guess they've got another bunch of guys lined up to read tomorrow as well. I heard there was one that wowed Bob." "Oh?" Jake responded, his brows furrowed. "I thought they were just looking for some extras to replace those cowards who can't take a joke. Why were they having them read and what was Bob doing there? I thought Jenna handled extras." "She does. They still need to fill Marcus's role, remember?" "Why aren't they bringing someone in from LA? I'm sure they had some other guys read for that part when they first held auditions. They can't all be working." "I don't know the politics. I guess Bob was taking a stab in the dark by checking out the local talent." "An amateur? They are actually putting an amateur in this film as my co-star?" He didn't know whether to be relieved or angry. This would actually be his chance to headline a project. Maybe a feature would be next. "I didn't say that, Jake. All I said was that Bob watched them read and liked one of them. I don't know if they are actually going to use him. Jeez, man, don't be so paranoid. There are a lot of films shot in Toronto. This guy might not be as inexperienced as you think." "Yeah, sorry, Jim. I'm okay. Just the thought of having to re-shoot all those scenes is enough to make me crazy. Especially if I have to do them with a rookie." "Is that all you have to say about Marcus's death?" Jim rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I miss the guy? Get real. I never liked him and you know it." "That's not the point." "Then what is?" Jake responded vehemently. "I've been in this business at least ten years longer than Marcus was, and he was getting top billing." "Oh, so you killed him?" "Don't be stupid," he said vehemently. "I had nothing to do with it." "Just checking, that's all," Jim put his hands up in surrender. "Awfully convenient that you got at least an extra half hour with the new scenes." "I had nothing to do with that," he protested. "Didn't say that you did." Jim responded quickly. What had started as a simple conversation was rapidly deteriorating into a heated argument. Discussions with Jake had a tendency to do that. While a very talented actor, he was not known for his interpersonal skills. "The cops haven't arrested anyone, have they?" "Not that I know of, but who has time to watch the news?" "I hear you," Jake nodded in agreement. "Hey, if you hear anything, let me know." "Anything about what? If you didn't like the guy, why do you care if they've arrested anyone?" "I care what happens to morale around here", he declared. "It makes for an ugly working environment to have this uncertainty dragging down everyone's mood. Besides, I'm getting sick of that detective hanging around. I'd like him to do his job and get out of our studio." "Yeah, whatever," Jim rolled his eyes. He'd worked with some prima donnas before but Jake was an especially difficult actor to fathom. For his blatant ambition, his professional resume was not that remarkable. One had to wonder if he was trying to skip a few steps on his way to the stardom that he thought he deserved. CHAPTER TWELVE It was shortly before noon when the phone rang. It was the special phone line that had been installed as part of his cover. Since they'd already determined that there would be no outdoor filming, Nick had not mentioned anything about his nocturnal habits or 'sensitivity' to sunlight. When he heard the phone, he took a deep breath and cleared the cobwebs from his mind. Being completely awake when the sun was so high in the sky took great effort. "Nick Hubbard?" a pleasant sounding woman began as soon as Nick answered the phone. "Yes, can I help you?" "This is Jenna Mason. I'm the casting director for Nightowl productions. You read for me last Monday." "OK," Nick replied simply. "We'd like you to come in to meet the producers, and read another scene." "Sure, I'd be happy to." "This afternoon, say around 4?" "Same place?" "Yes, I'll see you then." She hung up and Nick took a deep breath. From the tone of her voice, he knew. He'd been too good. They were going to offer him something more than simply a background role. He didn't know if that was good or not. His task now was to find a way to get to the studio when the sun had not set. He hit the memory button and waited for Natalie to answer. "This better be good," she grumbled sleepily. "Is that any way to greet a friend?" Nick teased. His fatigue had disappeared with the thought that he'd get to act again- and not just 'act' to maintain his cover. "It is when they call at noon," she groaned. The sound of her rolling over was clear to his sensitive hearing. "Jeez, Nick, what are you doing up?" "Answering calls from casting directors," he replied. "I need a favor." "Oh?" she prompted. "A ride to the studio at 4." "OK, OK. And what are you going to do when you have to be there every day?" "Go in early," he shrugged. "I'll figure it out. So, do you mind?" "No, it's okay," she sighed. "I'll be over around 3." "Thanks, Nat. I owe you." "I know. One of many. Don't worry, I'll figure out a way to collect." **** Pulling into an alley next to the studio, Natalie checked the angle of the sun's rays before tapping on the trunk lid. She held an open umbrella over the edge of the trunk as Nick climbed out. "I'll be fine from here," he announced after surveying the area with a quick, critical glance. "Sure?" "Yeah. It would be sort of conspicuous for me to be using an umbrella in broad daylight." "Sorry, but I didn't want you to fry," she said defensively. "Nat, I didn't mean it that way," he commented. "I'm just thinking that you might be recognized and that doesn't go with my cover." "OK," she responded, chastened. "Have fun, break a leg or whatever you say." "It's break a leg," he grinned. "I'll call you later." "And you'll need a ride home?" "I can get home on my own, but thanks." "OK," she said hesitantly. She knew that meant he was going to fly home. Flying was the one vampire skill that she envied and it was the one that she wondered how willing he was to lose. Ultimately, her search for a cure would mean an eventual decision. Was he truly willing to go back to being a 'mere mortal'? He turned and walked to the end of the alley, staying close to the building and out of the direct light. The public entrance to the studio was halfway down the block. He gave a small wave as Natalie drove down the street and out of sight. Pushing open the door, he entered a small, sparsely decorated reception area. A dark haired young woman was chatting on the phone but thrust a clipboard at him. As she read his signature, and cross checked it against a list, she held her hand over the receiver. "Have a seat. I'll buzz Ms. Mason for you, Mr. Hubbard." Nick barely had a chance to flip through the stack of magazines that littered the small table that was between the two chairs in the corner of the room. Entering from the opposite side was the petite woman that Nick recognized from his previous audition. "Nick, glad you could make it," she greeted him. "Well, I have to confess. I'm intrigued. My agent just said you were looking for background people for a period piece. Do you always bring extras in to read a second time? To be honest, I was surprised that you had me read the first time." "Your agent was correct, but only partially," she explained. "We have a few speaking parts that were added mid-production and..." "And?" he questioned. "I don't know how well you keep up on current events, Nick." "What? Did someone quit?" "Not exactly. We, uh, lost one of our actors." "Lost?" "He died," she said briefly. She paused in her rapid walk down the hall to hand him a manila envelope. "We want to see you read through this scene with Jake Marckel. He plays Julius Maximus, a former general of the Roman army who became a vampire. You will be reading the part of Sir Robert deRoen, a nobleman in 13th century France." "OK," Nick commented, taking the envelope and extracted a sheaf of stapled papers. He skimmed it quickly as she waited next to him. "Any questions?" "No, not that I can think of," he said briefly. "Good. Follow me," she instructed, pushing open a door and leading him into a studio. He saw the producers and the director seated at a long table. Stacks of papers littered its surface. "Nick Hubbard, this is Bob, our director, Paul and Mike, our producers." Nick reached over and shook each man's hand. Paul gave him a brief raised eyebrow look, but Mike showed no visible sign of recognition. "Good to meet you," he said briefly. "OK, Nick, you're over there. We'll begin on the top of page 4 as soon as Jake gets here." Bob pointed to a taped mark on the floor. As Nick moved to the position, he heard a door slam and the approach of another man. "OK, I'm here. What do you want?" "We're doing a run through of Scene 14-B," Bob replied, handing him the script. "And who's this?" "Nick Hubbard," Nick said pleasantly, holding his hand out. The man merely nodded and rolled his eyes. "Hmm, very well," he took a deep breath and moved to another taped mark. "Gentlemen, it's all yours," Bob pointed at Nick. The scene was one that Nick remembered all too well from his own life. The newly converted vampire, pleading with his master to go back. To not kill again. Reading it was like living it again. He poured 8 centuries of repressed emotion into his pleas, knowing it to be futile but hoping nonetheless to have his words heard. When they were finished, even Jake stood in silence. "Anything else?" Nick asked, setting the script on the table. "Uh, no, not right now," Bob stammered. "Jenna, take Mr. Hubbard over to the commissary for a drink. We need a few minutes." He motioned for Jake to come over to the table as Jenna led Nick out of the room. "Jake, what do you think?" Bob began, gesturing to an empty chair. "Where'd he come from? I've never seen him before." Jake replied, shaking his head. In a way, he'd been pleased that an unknown was being considered to replace Marcus but now that he'd seen the guy, he wasn't so sure. "That isn't the question," Mike commented. "Then what *is* the question?" Jake sighed, filling his water glass. "Can you work with him?" Bob asked. "You can't be serious," Jake replied, incredulous. "You're actually thinking of putting an unknown in that part?" "Yes, we are. May I remind you that your contract does not give you veto power over other roles. This meeting is a courtesy because we're already in production." "If I choose to walk?" "If you don't complete the project against our wishes, we'll take you to court to get the advance back. I don't think you really want to do that. Your stock in this business isn't that hot right now. You need this. It's as simple as that. It'll be top billing unrestricted for you. He'll be below the title." Paul said casually. "You're right in thinking he doesn't have much of a resume. That means that this is your project." "So I'll be carrying the bulk of the scenes." He commented, looking to the two directors for confirmation. He had assumed as much when he'd been given the new script pages with scenes focusing on him. It never hurt to ask, though. Truthfully, it never hurt to get it in writing either. "You are already. When we re-worked the script after Marcus died, we took out the Crusade scenes and severely cut back on the present-day scenes to take out everything that had Robert alone. You're the only one with a history that is seen." "Yeah, so?" "That means that I think we've made enough concessions, Jake. I like Mr. Hubbard. I think the chemistry between the two of you came out in that scene. It doesn't matter if you like the guy. In fact, it's almost better if you don't. As I recall, you weren't fond of Marcus either." "Marcus kept tripping on my lines," Jake complained. "Well, you won't need to worry about that anymore. Marcus isn't coming back." Paul said sarcastically. "I think we're in agreement then." He looked at Mike with an unspoken statement. It was plain that they needed some time with their undercover cop. ***** When Jenna finished her tour of the various sets and led him to the offices, only Paul and Mike were in the room. They quickly nodded to Jenna and motioned for Nick to sit down. "It should come as no surprise that we are offering you a job," Paul commented, handing Nick a thick, stapled document. "As I recall, that was the idea. Come to an open casting call, integrate onto the set and then see what develops," Nick shrugged, glancing between the two men. "Somehow, I didn't think that winning a major role was part of the plan," Mike added. "That was your decision, or your director," Nick said casually. "All I did was show up and read the scenes that I was given." "Like I said, this wasn't the plan, but I can see that you are a man of many talents. What are you doing wasting your talents as a cop?" "You don't think that cops have to act?" Nick questioned as he skimmed through the contract. "This isn't my first undercover assignment." "Undercover assignments are a little different from being a professional actor," Paul commented as Nick set the contract back on the table. "Yes, your life is not at risk when you're a professional actor," Nick replied matter-of-fact. Paul nodded in acknowledgement. There wasn't anything that he could say to refute Nick's statement. "I know you are doing a job here but we have to offer you a salary for your services as an actor. It would be suspicious otherwise." "The salary will be donated to charity," Nick's voice was firm as he signed the document. "Don't you want a lawyer to look at that?" "Why? We all know why I'm here. Besides, my cover is an inexperienced actor, so I think he'd be happy to work for scale. That *is* what you're offering, isn't it?" "True," Mike laughed. "Yes, the contract is for the union scale. I'm not sure if we'll hear anything about casting someone who isn't a guild member but it doesn't matter. I think you're better suited to the part than Marcus was. I'm happy to have you aboard. Let me know if you need anything." "One question," Paul interrupted. "Will you be armed?" "No, it's against regs to have a weapon when you're undercover. Don't worry about me. I can protect myself without a gun." Nick's voice was firm and sure. "Just asking," Paul said quickly. "I'm not telling you how to do your job. We just needed to know." "OK, since you've signed on the dotted line, Bob said to tell you that we start rehearsing around 9 tomorrow and here's the current script with a production schedule so you know what scenes you'll need to learn first. On days that you have scenes being filmed, you'll need to be in makeup by 8. He wants you to meet with the costume department and the stunt coordinator tomorrow." Nick nodded and took copies of the contract with him as he left. The sun had long set. He had work to do, and would need to get some rest before morning. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Sipping from a near empty goblet that had been full when he started, Nick closed his eyes and imagined himself in another time, another place. The script had transported him backwards in his own life. The images were powerful and the story all too familiar to him. A Crusader seduced into the shadowy world of the vampire with the promise of immortality. "Dozing on the job?" Natalie's amused voice woke him with a start. He had not heard the lift power up. "I suppose. But since I have to be at the studio this morning, I thought a nap was a good idea." "So, how was the audition?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the empty bottle that was next to his chair. He gave her a helpless look that said volumes. "How bad *were* you?" she asked with dismay. Her first thought was that he'd been so inept that they were not even letting him in the studio as an extra. She knew immediately that it was a false thought since she saw the script on his lap. "I've been offered the role that Marcus had." "What?" she exclaimed. "Wasn't he, sort of, umm, the lead?" "One of them, yes." "So, who helped you?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Helped me?" "I thought movie roles weren't based on talent so much as who you know," she responded sheepishly. "I wasn't referring to your ability to act. I of all people, know what a talented actor you are. Your entire life here is an act." "In this case, talent won out," he sighed. "I'm afraid I immersed myself a bit. The scene they had me read hit a little close to home." "Are you really going to be able to do this?" she asked gently. She saw in his expression how this was costing him with emotional pain. "You doubt my acting ability? You're the one who just complimented me," he teased. "Not your acting ability, your ability to do a movie. This is sort of out of your league." "Nat, I was in the theater for several decades," he mused. "That was in the 16th century as I recall, wasn't it?" she questioned. "Doing a movie in the 20th century is a bit different. Besides, if that script is giving you this much emotional distress now, what will it be like for you to actually be reading those lines, in costume?" "Yes, I can do it. I need to do it. Nat, this is giving me a chance to really look at what I was before. I know it won't change anything, but maybe it'll help me figure out where I really want to go from here." "You're giving up your quest?" she asked gently. She'd detected a pensive quality to his voice. As long as they'd worked together, she'd never known him to have any doubts about his desire for mortality. On the other hand, she'd also not seen him think so much about *before*. "I didn't say that, Nat." "Then what do you mean?" "When I know, you'll be the first to know," he said thoughtfully. "Haven't you ever wanted to look back at your life and re-examine your choices?" "No, can't say that I have," she commented. "You're lucky then," he set the script back on the table. Straightening, he handed her a folder. "Could you take those to Schanke?" "Sure. What is it?" She saw in the resolute expression that he now wore that the discussion was over. It was one of her constant frustrations. When he decided that the conversation was finished, it was. No amount of persuasion would get him to re-visit the topic. "The production schedule. That's so you know how to find me. There's a copy for you, too." "OK, thanks," she nodded, opening the folder and glancing at the pages. "Planning to make me the go-between?" "Sort of, I guess. Do you mind? He was on the set so much that I can't be seen with him and I certainly can't go to the precinct. I'm not sure that anyone would remember you being there. I think it's safe for you to come over here. I can't come to the lab to see you. If anyone saw me, it would be hard for me to explain why I'm going to the coroner's office." "I don't mind, Nick. Don't worry, though. I can still find a way to get samples from you here." He groaned, giving her a stern look. "Nat, don't start." "I wasn't. I didn't say *anything* about the binge I see here." She gave him an innocent gaze as he stood and picked up the empty bottle. "I'd scarcely call this a binge," Nick commented. "OK but it is over your quota, isn't it?" "Yes, but it's not like I'm going to be able to feed while I'm at the studio and I'll be there for the day so I need to be satisfied before I go." "I realize that, Nick. I'll work on a more palatable beverage for you. Can't have the other actors thinking you're weird or anything. You'll be the new guy so they'll be watching you." "I can take care of myself," he protested. "I didn't live this long by being careless." "OK, OK, I hear you," she raised her hands in surrender. "Do you need a ride today?" "No, I'll drive myself. It's too risky to have you driving me to the studio." "Nick, your car sort of stands out. I don't think there are too many vintage Cadillacs in Toronto." "Don't worry. I'm not driving the caddy. I do own more than one car." "Oh, really?" she asked, intrigued. She knew that the lower level garage had multiple bays but never knew what, if anything, was stored there. "I like the Caddy best, so I drive it the most. I keep a car for undercover assignments." "A little less conspicuous?" "Weeellll," he hesitated. "Nick?" she said sternly. "Don't tell me. A cherry-red convertible?" "Yes. A corvette. I think it's a 1968. I bought it when I was in Chicago." "Still vintage then, and not much trunk space," she joked. "No," he agreed. "It'll still stand out," she commented. "But it isn't registered to 'Nick Knight', and isn't known around town. I've had registration papers drawn up that will match my assumed name. It's something that an actor would drive. You know, a flashy car." Shaking her head at the ease that he was slipping in this role, she stood, gathering her briefcase and jacket. In a way, it made her wonder how easily he would transition to being an ordinary mortal. "Far be it for me to argue with that logic," she laughed. "If you're going to get to the studio before sunrise, you'd better get moving. Call me if you need anything. I can look very unprofessional if you're worried about someone recognizing me." "Thanks," he replied. ****** Parking in the secured lot behind the studio, Nick walked into the back door shortly before sunrise. He'd been very relieved to learn that most of the set construction was done at night, so with the security badge, one could access the studio in the wee hours of the morning. It was several hours before he was required to be on the set, and there were few people wandering around the dressing room area. He was halfway down the hallway when he saw the sign with his name taped to a door. Hesitantly, he pushed open the door, and flipped on the light. A couch was against one wall with a table lining the other wall. Exploring the room, he found a bathroom and a long clothing rack in the back. A card was propped on the table against the mirrored wall. He opened the card, finding a word of welcome from the director. Setting his duffle bag on the floor next to the couch, he noticed a small refrigerator that also served as an end table. He'd packed a few thermal bottles filled with Natalie's latest mixture figuring that he could claim they were health drinks. "Ah, you're here early," a slim brunette woman greeted him enthusiastically. "I'm Carrie." "Nick," he reached over to shake her hand. "I'm in charge of costumes," she explained, pulling a tape measure out of her pocket. "Do you want to have me try things on?" "I'll just take a few measurements. You look about the same height as Marcus so I doubt I'll need to do many adjustments. The period costumes are meant to be loose." "I'm ready when you are," Nick replied. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she smiled. "If you want, there's probably coffee in the lunchroom down at the end of the hall." "I'm fine." Nick had barely had time to pull out the script pages when Carrie poked her head in the door. "OK, Nick. Ready to be a medieval knight?" "Absolutely," Nick replied enthusiastically, taking the garments. Turning his back to the opened door, he changed quickly. His jeans and shirt were discarded carelessly as he transformed to the man he had once been. "I'm impressed," she commented. "People usually need some instruction how to wear medieval dress. You've got all the pieces in the right order and everything." Nick shrugged. To him, wearing a coarsely woven linen shift and heavy woolen tunic was natural. It might have been many centuries, but he still remembered the feel of the natural fibers, the leather belt securing a heavy sword by his side. In his haste to relive his past, he'd forgotten to show the proper unfamiliarity that would be appropriate. He realized now, that Natalie had been right. This was going to be harder than he thought. "I guessed right then," he said carelessly. "It seemed logical." She looked at him skeptically. For now, the ongoing debate that he'd acted before would suffice to any curiosity seeker. "Uh huh," she mumbled, studying him intently before stepping closer and measuring him. "I think you're okay with this one. I'll bring the chain mail suit tomorrow. It's a little more tricky to alter so I'm hoping that you'll be okay as it is. When we get to the present day scenes, come over to wardrobe and we'll pick out a look for you." "Sounds good," he agreed. "Do I leave the costume in here, or what?" "Yeah, I'll come in to check it for laundering periodically. Holler if you need anything." Nick nodded and waited for her to leave before changing back into his regular clothes. Wearing the clothes of his youth brought questions to his mind. Questions that only someone who had been there could answer. CHAPTER FOURTEEN "That was good work, Nick," Bob commented, making a quick notation on his clipboard. They had just finished filming Nick's first official scene. In it, Sir Robert had just witnessed Sir Julius changing into a vampire form had been threatened into silence. In the sequence of the movie, it was near the middle, but it seemed that the entire project was filmed out of order. That in itself was disconcerting to Nick. He had experience only in the theater where a story was told beginning to end. Before Nick could respond, Bob was heading toward another set. The movements of the director caused a flurry of activity in his wake. Nick could only shake his head in amazement. He had more energy that any mortal he'd known. No matter how long the day went, Bob seemed to keep going. "Better than the last time we filmed this scene," another actor agreed. They all knew that their director was not one to give undeserved praise. "Right, Jake?" "If you say so," Jake replied. Straightening his robes with an impatient gesture, he turned toward Nick. "Got a minute, Nick?" "Sure," Nick responded, following Jake to the back of the set. With the lights dimmed, the stone wall seemed as cold as the expression worn by the older actor. Stern and humorless, he backed Nick up against the wall and spoke in a low voice. "This is your first week, so I'll give you a break. This is the only warning you get, so listen good." He paused, making sure he had Nick's full attention. "Don't ever show me up again." "What?" Nick asked, not sure if he'd heard correctly. "You heard me. This is my project and don't forget it. I refuse to have some know-nothing amateur screw up my scenes." "Sorry if you feel that way. It was not my intention and I don't see..." Nick began. "That's the problem. No one ever sees," he interrupted. "I'm the lead. That means I lead. I call the shots. I get my face on screen. You get your back." With an angry glare, he stalked away. Nick stood for a moment, stunned at the actor's brazenly rude behavior. Switching his mind into 'cop mode', he began to analyze the interaction he'd had. It made him very suspicious. Could this anger have turned into rage? Could Jake be the man he was looking for? ****** Schanke's arrival on the set came with the usual groans. While the actors and crew were accustomed to him wandering among the closed areas, and speaking to random people, his presence merely served to remind them of the loss they'd suffered. "So, Detective, what can we do for you today?" one of the interns greeted him at the door to the commissary. They all knew that the detective would grab a donut before seeking out his interviews. "I hear you have some new folks on the set," he commented, taking a big bite of a chocolate glazed donut. "True, several actors, a lighting tech and some extras," she confirmed. "Mind if I have a chat with them?" "Far be it for me to interfere with police business," she protested. "Tell me who you want, and I'll point you in that direction." "How about we start with some names?" "No problem," she agreed. Taking a page from the clipboard that seemed to be part of the intern's uniform, she scribbled a few names. "We have a new man playing the role that Marcus had. He just started this week so he might not know much but I'm sure he'd talk to you. His name is Nick Hubbard, I know he isn't busy this morning, so he's probably in his dressing room." She handed him the paper and pointed down a corridor. "I'll start there," he commented, trying his best to avoid smiling. It wouldn't be good for him to break Nick's cover so soon. Grabbing a jelly filled glazed donut, he trotted down the hall, checking names on the doors. Seeing 'Nick Hubbard' taped on a door at the end of the hall, he knocked and waited for a familiar voice to reply. Nick was sitting on a couch at the far end of the room, script in hand. He glanced up as Schanke opened the door. Looking alarmed, he tossed the script on the couch and motioned to the door. "Close the door," he commanded. "Mr. Hubbard, I'm Detective Schanke. I'd like a few words," he said loudly. Nick smiled, recognizing the tactic. "Certainly, Detective. What can I do for you?" He replied firmly, pitching his voice so that anyone in the hall would hear. As soon as the door was closed, he motioned for Schanke to come closer, whispering, "What are you doing here?" "This is still my investigation, partner," he shrugged. "I'm investigating." "Uh huh, sure you aren't checking up on me? Seeing if I really can act?" "That does have its potential. Maybe I will stop by sometime to see you in action," Schanke agreed. "On the other hand, I thought I'd see if I could do it. It isn't very often that a cop gets to talk to his partner during an undercover assignment." Settling back on the couch, Nick grinned at his partner's tactics. "Getting anywhere on your end?" "Nada," he sighed. "Not getting anywhere on any of our open cases. How much longer are you going to be pretending to be an actor?" "Well, they're predicting another six weeks to finish filming. I don't think I'll break cover before that, even if I do figure out who did it." "You sound like you have an idea. Spill." "Nothing concrete, Schank," he frowned. "Your gut feelings usually are worth looking into, my friend. Tell me." "No, nothing even remotely worth discussing," he sighed. "This is only my first week on the set." "I know that look, Nick. You're holding back on me." "OK, it isn't much. I had a little run-in with one of the actors." "And?" "He warned me to not show him up. That's all." "Nick, you wouldn't bring it up if you didn't think it was anything." "OK, fine. He didn't exactly threaten me with bodily harm, but he did say I'd regret it." "So who was it?" "The lead, Jake Marckel." "Yeah, I remember him. He barely gave me the time of day. If I hadn't threatened to bring him downtown, I don't think he would have agreed to the interview at all." "Well, I don't know if he's simply obsessed with his work or if he's truly dangerous." "I hear you. I'll run a background on him. See if anything jumps out." "Good idea. Did Nat give you the schedule?" "Yep. How'd she get it so quickly?" "I gave it to her. She came over after the audition." "Uh huh... and what is this I hear about her knowing your security codes? I don't even know your codes." "She's a friend. She comes over a lot," Nick commented casually. "Methinks there's more here than either of you will admit," he smiled. "I won't rest until I know the whole story, partner. I do know that very, very few men will give a woman the keys to the castle if they are simply co-workers." "Well, we are friends, Schank, just friends." Nick's voice left no room for question, although Schanke longed to ask more. "What do you think of the movie business?" Schanke asked, settling back in the chair. "Tell me about what you're playing." "It's tedious. In a play you do the story from beginning to end. In a movie, it's done in bits and pieces. Right now, we're working on some parts in the middle. Why? Are you still longing to do more than 'Cop Watch'?" "No," he said emphatically. "I'm still trying to live that down, my friend." He shrugged casually and finished his donut before continuing. "I'm just interested. Is that a crime or something? I see costumes for a variety of periods. What are you doing?" "Right now we're working on scenes set in the 13th century. The majority of the movie is set in 13th century France. They already did some parts that were set in ancient Rome. We'll do a few scenes set in the 18th century before jumping to the present." "OK, that explains the costumes," he observed. As in many other things lately, he took vicarious pleasure in Nick's activities. "Tell me about your character." "You sure you want to hear all this?" "Absolutely. Come on, Nick, indulge me. Since when do we poor slugs get the inside track on a Hollywood production." "OK, fine," Nick agreed. "The movie begins in the present, with my character, Robert, fighting to escape the domination of his vampire master, Julius. In flashbacks, you see how Julius as a soldier of Rome, becoming a vampire on the battlefield and then roamed the European continent for a millennium before finding Robert. Robert has fought in the Crusades and is disillusioned with the people who sent him there, with the Church, with his king. He's been wounded and imprisoned and barely escaped death. He comes home to France to find that his brother has run their estate into poverty before dying of a fever. Julius has come as a suitor for Robert's sister. Robert sees Julius, as a vampire, killing one of the servants, and he forbids the marriage, fearing what Julius will do to his sister. Julius sees the marriage more as a way to seduce Robert into becoming a vampire and refuses to leave. At first, he tries to persuade Robert to allow his sister to marry him, promising that he will grant them both eternal life." "Hey, sounds good to me," Schanke interrupted. "Really?" Nick questioned. "Robert sees vampirism as going against God's will and refuses. When he orders Julius to leave, they fight, and he is wounded mortally. It is only then that he reluctantly accepts Julius's offer. Returning to the present, he is trying to find a way to be mortal again." "Why would he want to do that?" Schanke asked, shaking his head. "Man o man, if I could live forever, I wouldn't look back." "He sees his immortality, his need to drink blood as a sin. The thousands of lives he's taken weigh heavily on his conscience. He wants redemption." "Redemption?" he asked thoughtfully. "As in, forgiveness from God?" "Yes," Nick confirmed. "Has he ever asked for it? Has he tried praying? Going to confession?" Schanke shook his head. "This isn't the 13th century. I don't see how mortality equals forgiveness." "How can he pray when he can't go into a church?" "You can pray anywhere, Nick. Didn't you ever go to Catechism?" He paused for a moment. "Come to think of it, for all the Bible verses you can quote, I've never heard you say what you *did* believe, or what church you attended. You do go to church, don't you?" "That isn't important right now, Schank," Nick replied quickly. "Besides, don't you have more interviews to do?" "Yup, you're right. Need to get cracking," he stood, giving Nick a quizzical look. For a fractional instant, it had looked like Nick's questions were more personal than they were hypothetical. "I'll run that background check and get back to you." Nick watched as his partner left. He could not help thinking how much Schanke's arguments reflected Natalie's statements regarding forgiveness and redemption. Was that really what the church was teaching now? It seemed so very different from the religious thought of his youth. The religious ideology that had sent him to a battlefield far from home. CHAPTER FIFTEEN The lights were on, and cleaning crews swarmed around the Raven when Nick pushed open the front door. It had been three long days of fighting his nature to remain alert through the daylight hours since he'd first put on the coarsely woven linens and wool tunics. Despite dressing in modern clothing for the rehearsals, Nick had not forgotten their feel and weight. It was as though he'd immersed himself in the role. Even the dialogue coach had commented on the ease of his accent. All the while, he had in the back of his mind the memories of his own experiences. The need to discuss it with Janette was growing larger with each scene. He found himself heading to the Raven as soon as the sun set and he could leave the studio. He had an unexpected day with no scenes to be rehearsed or filmed, the directors had told him to just take the day off. "We're closed," one of the workers called out, not looking up. "But we will make an exception for you," Janette's voice came from the rear of the club. She approached him with slow, deliberate steps. They met in the center of the dance floor, their hands joining with fingers twined together. "Janette, I... I..." "Shhhh," she soothed, drawing him closer. "Come..." "I shouldn't be here," he murmured. "Nonsense," she said confidently, breathing a sigh of relief as his arms snaked around her. The embrace was familiar, comforting. Their encounter several weeks earlier earlier that week had but whetted her appetite for being with him. It was as if she was an addict, and had just received a small taste. She wanted more, so much more. "Ah, mon Nicola," she whispered. "Stay. You don't have to remain in the club if you don't want. Come to my apartment upstairs. Shelter with me this day. Let me ease your pain." "I shouldn't," he protested. It was ineffective at best. She felt no move on his part to actually leave. "I won't pressure you to do anything. I just want to feel you in my arms," she declared. She was not taking no for an answer. She just needed him to realize that. **** Sitting in her elegant parlor, Nick slowly sipped his blood-wine. It had surprised him immensely when she set the bottle of steer blood next to him. She'd not made any comment, sarcastic or otherwise. "What has you tied up in knots, mon frere?" she asked gently, running her hands along his shoulders. She could feel the tension eased as she massaged him. "It's work," he warned. "Tell me," she urged. He looked over to her, not sure if he'd heard correctly. Janette usually detested any mention of his 'mortal dalliances' and would dismiss his concerns with a shrug and change of subject, usually laced with sarcasm. With her encouraging nod and continued massaging of his back, he spoke reflectively. "I've gone undercover." "Yes, yes, I know." He glanced back at her momentarily. "How do you know that? I haven't spoken to you since I took this assignment." "I hear things," she said with a smile. "You are not the only one to come into this club, Nichola." He wasn't sure whether to believe her vague protestations but she'd continued to deny any involvement. "I was supposed to be just an extra, someone in the background," he sighed. "I guess I buried myself in the part and the director saw it." "What is the part?" "The movie is set in the 13th century. The part is that of a knight, just returned from the Crusades. He is bitter, disillusioned with his king, with his God and with his fellow man. He saw atrocities that led him to question everything he'd been trained to believe." "Sounds like someone I know," she commented, kneading his shoulders with more vigor. Knowing her role in this little game, she was becoming increasingly nervous. "That's the problem. I find myself looking at the situation with the benefit of 800 years of hindsight." "So you are questioning now, decisions you made then?" "Yes," he confirmed, leaning back and meeting her gaze as she stood behind the chair. "Ah, I see the problem then. You have questioned those decisions ever since you made them. What insight do you hope to gain by punishing yourself so?" "It's true that I questioned myself immediately. I didn't know the cost of immortality." He turned slightly to face her, grasping her hands in his. "That is true of many choices I made. I didn't know that serving under Lord DeLaBarre would cost me so much. Many of the choices that I made had unanticipated consequences." "That is true," she said reflectively. "We are all the product of our experiences. You are not the same man that you were in 1228 although I still think I'd see you at the far side of a smoky hall and want you." "So, it was you?" he queried, watching her expression closely. He'd always wondered who had pegged him from a room crowded with men. "Yes and no... I saw you when we arrived at the Inn. You intrigued us both. You were older than all of the other warriors and had a sadness about you. We learned that you'd been injured in the Crusades and had only recently returned. I intended just a night of pleasure, but I soon learned that our master had other ideas. I did not know until that night that LaCroix had been looking for someone to add to our entourage. He had made other vampires after me, but he did not allow them to stay at his side as I had. His goal was to find someone who would be a son, an eternal companion." "An eternal disappointment," Nick sniffed. "I never did fit his mold." "Many sons don't," she shrugged. "Many sons disagree with their fathers. It does not mean you were a disappointment." "Janette, I can't even count the number of times he told me that he was disappointed," he stated in a bitter tone. "Being disappointed is not the same thing as being a disappointment, Nicola," she mused. "Not living by LaCroix's expectations is quite different from not being strong enough to survive this life. You know as well as I do how many young vampires do foolish things and perish very early. That would be a disappointment. You are not that." "No," he agreed. "But that does not mean I did not displease him." "Oh, Nichola, he thrived by the challenge that you presented. Think how dull life would have been had you always been the obedient good son." "I wouldn't say I was a good son. Not at all. How many good sons kill their fathers?" "You are absolutely certain about that?" she questioned. "I *watched* him burn, Janette." "I'm just asking," she protested. "I feel things on occasion. I knew when you were in town..." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I never felt my connection to LaCroix severed. Weakened, yes... but if he were truly gone forever, I would know it. Think about it. Did you truly feel your bond abruptly break?" Nick pulled away to stare at her directly before asking in a deliberate tone. "So you're suggesting that he might show up some day just to surprise me?" "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who's to say?" "Great," he said heavily, leaning against the couch's cushions. "I'm sure he'll be really pleased with me." "He would be pleased to see us spending time together. No matter how long you stayed away, he always said that you would return to me." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. "Janette, you are an important part of my life. I may reject the vampire lifestyle but I don't want to hurt you. This was never intended to be personal." His words were a balm to her. She had long feared that her leaving him so many years ago had damaged their relationship beyond repair. She had no illusions that they would ever be what they had once been. She had not the temperament for a strictly monogamous relationship, as he had wanted. To her, the sporadically intensifying renewal of ties was sufficient. "So, are you truly returning to me?" she asked gently. She knew the answer but still needed him to say it. "No," he replied abruptly. "I'm here now because I needed to talk to you." "For me, that is enough," she commented. "Is it?" he shot back. "You push me for more. You want me to *be* a vampire again." "I *want* you to be happy" she said emphatically. "I don't want to lose you. If you are mortal, you will grow old. You will die and therefore, I will lose you. Can you blame me?" "Not when you put it that way," he acknowledged. "But if you want me to be happy, you won't fight my seeking mortality." "I would not call questioning the wisdom of such activities the same thing as fighting you. Is it not the role of the older sister to encourage you to think through your actions?" "I suppose," he nodded. "Too bad I didn't have an older sister in Paris." "Once again, dwelling on the past," she groaned. "Nicholas, you cannot change that night, no matter what you wish. Even if you could go back in time and avoid that tavern in Paris, would you be happy?" He looked at her silently. He remembered that night with uncanny clarity. He knew the despair that had gone through his mind as he rode closer to his estate in Brabant. He knew in his heart that she was right. He had not been happy. Nothing in his life had gone as he'd hoped. Serving with Lord deLaBarre had not brought him an estate and the stability that land would provide. Instead it had resulted in being sent to Jerusalem. Fighting in the Crusades had not been the glorious battles that the poets romanticized. It had been dirty, bloody and barbaric beyond anything he'd dreamt possible. "You weren't? Were you? Were you really going back to a better life than LaCroix offered you? I think not. You would have served your family, just as you served your king." "I would have married, raised a family," he commented absently, looking off into a space and time that did not exist. "Perhaps," she acknowledged. "Perhaps not. Such things are not guaranteed. I know that first hand. I thought my life would be simple. I would do as I was taught from birth. I would serve my family through a marital alliance. I was to be a wife to a minor nobleman. I would bear him an heir and grow old watching my children and my children's children. It didn't happen. You don't know that even if you had found a wife that you actually had feelings for, that she would have borne your heirs, or that you'd be content in that life. How can you know that you would have been happy to simply grow old in rural obscurity?" "I don't," he finally replied. Her logic was well-thought and showed an understanding of the customs of that time that few people could give him. He glanced up at the chiming of the clock on her mantle. Six. He couldn't believe that he'd been in Janette's apartment all night. He'd intended to simply talk for a short time and then get some official work done. Now it was too late for that. He could feel the sun rising in his mind. It was that built in 'clock' that all vampires held inside. The one that told them to seek shelter. "I should go." "No, my love, you don't need to. Come, rest with me," she urged, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom. ***** It had been many years since Nick had woken in the arms of a woman. Longer still since he'd cradled Janette's raven tressed head against him. They had brought each other to the pinnacle of pleasure more times than he could count. He could feel her slow ascent to consciousness. She kissed his chest lightly as their eyes met. "You've not lost anything over the past few centuries." "I'm not out of practice?" he teased. "Non, not at all," she smiled. "Although, I must say, you've led the life of a monk." He frowned, realizing that with the intensity of their blood-sharing, she would know everything there was in his past and present. "Not quite. I didn't take a vow of poverty or obedience, and certainly not silence." She chuckled softly. "But chastity? It has been far too long since you took a lover, mon Coeur. At least several centuries if I am reading you correctly." "You know the reason for that," he said carefully. "I would kill a lover before the day was out." "That's because you are malnourished," she chided him. "Janette, please," he began. "Shh... I know. I know. You also have some very medieval notions about women. Regardless, I don't understand why you don't act on your feelings." "Feelings?" he questioned. "You have very strong affections for Natalie. Why have you not done anything about them?" "Because I'd kill her, and she deserves better." "Oh, by spending time with her, showing her a little romance, you would kill her?" she questioned. In so many ways, he was naïve to the needs of women. "Nicholas, there are many ways to show your feelings that don't involve physical relations." "But they lead to it. Why start something that I can't finish?" "Again, you are assuming that you cannot finish it. I am not so sure." "I can't believe this discussion," he commented, turning on his side and leaning over her. "I'm in bed with you, and you are telling me to take another lover." "Why not? It is our nature, or have you forgotten? I have had many other lovers over the centuries since we were last together. I may prefer you above all others, but that does not mean that I won't be with other men. Why should you not take a lover as well?" she kissed him lightly, her eyes sparkling. "Besides, she is mortal. Long after she is dust, I will still be here. You may come and go from my life as we both feel the need." "Assuming that I don't become mortal, that is," he added. "Yes, assuming that," she sighed. Always that quest, she thought with quiet dismay. Her discussion that morning had not dissuaded him in the least, it would seem. "Nicholas, she is worthy of your attentions in ways other than simply protection." "I know you've met but I'm not happy that you are feeding her information." "I wouldn't have had to, if you'd taken responsibility as you should." "I still think it's dangerous," he said stubbornly. He looked at her darkly before continuing. "You will let me know if you meet her again." "Perhaps. I don't agree with your assessment of danger but I will keep you apprised. I can see what attracted you to her," she smiled. "Besides, if you don't tell her, I will." "Is that a threat?" "No, a friendly warning. She has feelings for you. I see it in her eyes. There is nothing worse than unrequited love. Nothing lonelier. Even if you cannot act upon it, she should know of your love. Let her make the decision if the sacrifices are worth it," she pleaded. "I don't know if I could," he said quietly, staring at the ceiling. In his mind, he had fantasized of telling Natalie, of sweeping her off on a romantic vacation to a moonlit beach. The fantasies all ended the same way. With him killing her in the throes of passion. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Ever. CHAPTER SIXTEEN After a week, Natalie had adjusted to the fact that Nick would not be dropping in unannounced at work. It made her more productive but nonetheless, she worried how he was faring. According to the last email that had been carefully sent to her home account, everything was going well. She didn't know if that meant he was making progress on the case or if he was simply immersing himself in the role and liked re-living his past. To her surprise, Schanke knew more about the status of the investigations. He continued regular visits to the studio, ostensibly to follow up on the pranks that the producers had reported. She'd learned that just that evening when he'd come over to the lab to talk. "Now, wait a minute," she exclaimed looking up from her microscope. "Since when do partners get to talk to undercover officers on location?" Don shrugged with a sly smile. "When you're good, you're good." "Oh, come on," she protested. "Seriously, though, I could justify interviewing Nick since he's new to the set, and might have heard something." "That much is true," she mused. "So how is he doing?" "Hmmm, now is this interest personal? Or professional?" "We're friends, okay?" "Yeah, sure," he teased. If it was the last thing he did, it would be to get them to admit the feelings that were so obvious to anyone who was around them both. "No big break yet, but these things take time." "Keep me informed, okay?" she asked, trying not to reveal her real need to know how Nick was doing. "Sure, no problem," he agreed. He could see it in her eyes. The interest was not just professional. "Catch you later," he said before leaving. Finishing an uneventful shift, Natalie loaded her latest stack of journals to take home. Not expecting any distractions, she figured that it was a perfect day to catch up on the latest in forensic pathology. The gray light of early dawn had just begun to lighten the skies when Natalie arrived home. It struck her immediately that the curtain was drawn. That was odd. She seldom closed the living room drapes unless Nick was there. Carefully setting her briefcase by the door, she kept her cell phone in hand as she flicked on the lights and eased her way farther into the apartment. "Natalie?" Janette's voice came from the kitchen, causing Natalie to jump in surprise. "Don't *do* that!" she exclaimed, clutching her hand over her chest. "You're just like Nick. Sneaking up and scaring the life out of me." "I'm sorry, Natalie. I can't help it. It is second nature," she said apologetically. "OK, Janette, I think I can figure out how you got in, but do you mind telling me what you're doing here?" Natalie asked, relaxing enough to put the cell phone on the counter. "We need to talk, and I thought it best if I came here. I don't want to be overheard." "Oh, so this is a forbidden conversation or something?" "In a way. I think we've already covered that territory though. You know the rules." Natalie nodded in acknowledgement. Her plans of professional reading were forgotten as she pulled out a goblet and a bottle of wine. Whatever Janette had to say would require fortification. "Sorry, I can only offer you Nick's blend. He left some here last week." "Thank you, no. I brought my own," she replied, gesturing to the bottle that she'd just uncorked. "Why am I not surprised?" Natalie shook her head. Her life had been anything but normal since that night that one of her customers woke up and walked off the autopsy table. Sometimes she wondered what her life would be life if the past three years were different. Taking their beverages into the living room, Natalie settled on the couch while Janette sat in the chair next to her. "You realize that Nicholas is not happy that we've made acquaintance?" "You mean that you're telling me stuff, don't you? That doesn't surprise me a bit. You know, it's his fault that we met in the first place. I mean, we don't exact move in the same social circles." "Quite," Janette smiled. "He thinks that I'm putting you in danger." "What? By telling me things that he should have told me years ago?" she snorted. "As in, how to protect myself?" "Yes, yes, you're correct. He has these medieval notions after all," she sighed. "Has he changed *at all* in the past 800 years?" Natalie asked with an exasperated sigh. "In his treatment of women, only slightly," she mused. "Especially if it is a woman he cares for. He will treat you like the crystal doll in the castle." "Well, I wish he'd join the 20th century. Some things are okay, but it can be annoying. A little chivalry goes a long way." Natalie lamented. "But, that was not what you came to talk about, was it?" "Not exactly," she acknowledged. "There are some things that you should know." "Okay, I'm listening," Natalie prompted, trying not to sound so eager. She could tell that what Janette was about to discuss was something Nick would *never* tell her. "Has Nicholas ever spoken to you about the blood?" she asked carefully. "Just that he can't give it up, that he craves it." "There is good reason for that, Natalie," she replied quickly. "It is your food as I understand it," she commented. "Sort of like how I crave chocolate and coffee." "Natalie, the blood is more than our food. It nourishes us, yes, but it also nourishes our minds, our senses." "What do you mean by that?" she asked with obvious confusion. "When we take blood, especially from a living host, we can feel what they feel, know what they know. It is an exhilarating experience, one that is very difficult for me to describe." "And from a bottle?" "It's blunted, more difficult to discern. Especially since most bottles contain blends from several hosts, one cannot read the emotions as clearly." "So you sense what they are thinking?" she asked, her fascination evident in her steady gaze. Her wine was untouched on the table beside her. "Yes, but it's more than that. Your life is in your blood. Everything about you. Your hopes, your dreams, your life knowledge," she met Natalie's gaze directly before continuing. "Didn't you ever wonder how Nicholas became fluent in so many different languages?" "You mean, it's like osmosis, or something?" "Something like that," she nodded. "There's more, and I think you have a right to know it." "Okay," she prompted. "You realize that Nicholas and I have known one another for many, many years." "Umm hmmm," she nodded, wishing that Janette would get to the point. She was beginning to think that all vampires discussed painful topics in a round-about manner and the topic must be painful or she would not hesitate so. "Therefore I know him very, very well, perhaps better than he knows himself." She took a deliberate sip from her goblet. "It isn't from simple companionship that I know Nicholas." "You've taken his blood," she stated with certainty. "Yes, I have," Janette acknowledged. "Recently?" she asked softly. Janette nodded, waiting for her companion to comprehend what exactly she was being told. "Well, it's not like he's ever said he had any feelings for me," Natalie said finally, draining her wine glass in one motion. "He doesn't need to tell me. I know he does." Janette's words hit her like a brick wall. All of a sudden her fury was gone as she realized that this was not a meeting of rivals. Janette was genuinely concerned over them both and was willing to tell Natalie the truth. "Why isn't he telling me this?" she asked with a calmness that belied her true feelings at being told by Janette of all people, that Nick had *feelings* for her. Much as she had longed to know how he felt about her, she'd hoped that he would be the one to tell her. "Like I said, he has many medieval ideas, and he wants to protect you. He thinks you deserve better." Natalie sighed. "He would." She stood and went into the kitchen. This time it was Scotch in her hand. This discussion was nothing that she'd expected. After pouring a healthy quantity into the glass and draining it in one swift movement, she turned to her guest. Janette had remained silent. It was as if she knew the turmoil that she was feeling. "So what do I do about it?" "That is up to you. I felt that you had the right to know. If you want to confront him, you may get him to admit it. You may not. I told him that it isn't fair to you to maintain this charade." "Charade?" "That you are merely co-workers," Janette explained. "He is fixated the physical aspects of romance and forgetting that one can be attentive in other ways." Taking a deep breath, Natalie focused on Janette. This discussion was more difficult to bring up. "Are you saying he is not capable of having sex with a mortal woman?" "No, I'm not," she replied. She sat next to Natalie, taking her hand loosely. "He is *quite* capable of pleasing a woman." She tightened her grip as she felt Natalie's discomfort. "I can vouch for that first hand." Natalie remained silent. If she could have bolted from the room, she would have. She'd long suspected that Nick's relationship with Janette was far from platonic. Hearing it confirmed so bluntly was painful to say the least. Had Janette not been holding her hand so firmly, she would be long gone. "Natalie, I do not mean to cause you such pain," she said softly. "Then why tell me this?" Natalie asked in a voice barely above a whisper. She felt like a dagger had just be thrust into her heart. "You have a right to know why he holds himself back," she explained. "You have a right to know that he does care for you, deeply. More intensely than I've ever seen him care for a mortal woman." "So why *does* he hold himself back from expressing love?" "Because you are mortal. While he is quite able to be with me in an intimate fashion, it a different story for you." "Why?" Natalie persisted. "You mean to tell me that in 800 years, he's never been with a mortal woman?" "Yes, he has. Unfortunately, no woman has survived it. At least not with Nicholas. Some vampires can control their urges enough to have carnal relations with a mortal, but Nicholas has never learned." "Why? Would he bite?" Her pain was pushed away, as Natalie realized that now was her chance to understand what made vampires tick. Nick would never be so bold as to discuss matters of intimacy with her. "Of course. You must understand that the sharing of blood is the ultimate in experiences for a vampire couple." "Better than sex?" "Much," Janette confirmed. "In the heat of passion, one forgets that one's partner is not a vampire." "So you take blood from your partner when you have sex?" Natalie asked. This was a topic Nick had never broached. He kept insisting that a physical relationship with her, with any woman was impossible, but he never said why. "Yes," she nodded. "Sometimes, it isn't planned but of course there are times that it is deliberate. Pleasured blood is the most exquisite." Natalie shuddered at the thought. It didn't take a genius to figure out why vampires would seduce their victims. "So he'd bite. Why is that a big deal?" For as much as she'd been trying to get Nick to foreswear human blood, the idea of giving him her own blood was not something she'd ever considered. If it meant they could achieve the relationship they both wanted... "He would kill you, Natalie." Janette spoke simply, matter-of-fact. "Oh," Natalie replied in a soft voice. "He would forget himself and take too much. He's done it before." She sighed, remembering the centuries it took to get Nick to forgive himself when he'd killed his wife during the 15th century. It was after that event that she'd begun to live with him full time. To some degree, she believed that incident still colored his perceptions of his vampiric life. "Why doesn't Nick tell me all this?" she asked "I think he is still punishing himself," she said thoughtfully. "For what?" "I told you that he'd done it before," Janette began. Taking a deep breath, she made a decision. She'd warned Nick once. "I am confident that he'd never discussed this with you and I doubt he'd be happy that I'm telling you about this incident." "Go on," she urged. "It was a long time ago. Centuries ago. Nick had gotten married. Before you ask, I don't know that he truly loved her. Marriage among nobility was an economic matter back then." "So what happened?" Natalie prompted. "I suppose he was trying to bring her across. At least that's what he told LaCroix. In any event, on his wedding night, he attempted intimacy. He failed." "Failed? As in he couldn't do it?" she asked, puzzled about what Janette was terming 'failure'. Was this, failure in the mortal sense... or something worse? "No, Natalie. He killed her. He took too much." "Oh," Natalie breathed softly. Her mind was working a mile a minute. Knowing that Nick's decisions were based upon experience and not fear changed her perception of how to address the issue. "Does he really think I'm so inconsiderate that I'd push him to do something he can't do?" "It isn't you, Natalie. It's him. He thinks that it's something you need, want or deserve." Draining the last of her goblet, Janette sat next to Natalie, taking her hand loosely. "I believe it is up to you to convince him otherwise." CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Nick was very quickly learning that modern cinema was nothing like the Elizabethan theaters that he'd performed in. For one thing, there was a lot of time spent doing nothing. Oh, sure, something was going on. Someone was rehearsing or stage lights were being set but as an individual, it gave Nick plenty of time to simply roam the sets. On Natalie's suggestion, he'd spent a long time in the garden where Marcus had been killed. They'd hoped that his enhanced senses would find something that the forensics team had missed. Unfortunately, the passage of time and frequent use of the area made it impossible for him to discern anything. The other cast members were cautiously polite to him. He couldn't blame them for being wary. After all, he was an outsider trying to integrate into a group that had been together for close to two months. In some ways, it was frustrating, but he was not totally surprised. The hardest thing about this undercover assignment he'd quickly learned was staying mentally alert all day. No longer a fledgling, he did not have the uncontrolled urge to seek shelter and sleep as soon as the sun rose. Even eight centuries did not allow him to totally forego rest. To his surprise, he was able to sleep at night, although it had taken him several days to get fatigued enough. The weekend could not come soon enough. Time to rest and most importantly, time to see Natalie. He was just beginning to realize how much he depended on her. At first it had been a professional doctor-patient relationship then co-workers. Now he wasn't sure. He wanted more... so much more... ***** Finishing his last rehearsal of the day, Nick was ready to take a snooze while he waiting for the sunset that would allow him to venture out. He'd developed a reputation for being eager, considering he was typically the first one there every morning. Of course, he had a reason that he was not about to discuss with anyone there. As soon as he felt the last waning radiation from the sun's light sinking below the western horizon, Nick hurried out the back door. It was a calculated risk taking his 'undercover' car to Natalie's apartment, but he could not wait a moment longer. The few phone calls and emails were not enough. Walking swiftly down the familiar corridor, Nick heard voices. He was not close enough to hear the conversation, but he could hear Natalie talking to someone. As he came closer, he knew who it was. Janette. He felt her presence as clearly as the day he'd first come to Toronto. To his relief, the discussion he heard as he prepared to knock on the door was about fashions. Perhaps Janette was, as she'd said, befriending Natalie as a woman friend and not only to tutor her in the ways of the vampire. The door opened quickly in response to his soft knock. It was obvious from Natalie's expression that Janette had sensed his approach and had told Natalie. Was the discussion he'd overheard a decoy? Had they really been discussing something else? "Come in," Natalie greeted him with a tentative smile, holding the door open and then following him into the apartment. "Nicholas, how delightful to see you," Janette commented, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen. "Is it?" he questioned, looking at her quizzically. "But of course, mon Nichola. It is always a pleasure mon frere," she replied softly. He glanced between the two women, noted the inscrutable expression that Natalie wore. She'd been trained almost as well as Janette. Her body language revealed nothing that she didn't want it to say. "Wasn't expecting to see you here," he commented, focusing on Janette. Their bond, so recently strengthened hummed with the close proximity but was still shielded from his thoughts. "Obviously," Natalie interjected. The tension between the two vampires was palpable. "Look, do you want me to stay in the living room while you both argue?" "That won't be necessary," Janette commented, sweeping past Nick toward the door. "I thank you for your hospitality, Natalie." She said loudly. In a low voice, she spoke as she focused long and hard on Nick. "I warned you, Nicholas." As soon as the door closed, Natalie walked into the kitchen and filled her coffee mug without a word. With Nick watching her every move, she sat on the couch. "Help yourself, Nick. I have a choice of beverages for you." It was not spoken but when he saw the plastic pitcher on the top shelf of the refrigerator next to an unlabeled bottle, he knew it was a test. He recognized the bottle from that evening he'd spent with Janette. One of the bottles of 'Private Reserve' was pushed to the side, half empty. So, Janette must have spent the day, he mused. His choice of beverage would be more than a dietary preference. Metaphorically, it would illustrate his choice. Natalie or Janette. Vampire or human. What did he want? A wine goblet and a ceramic mug were left on the counter awaiting his decision. Taking the clear glass goblet, he filled it with the thick pink liquid from the plastic pitcher. He wasn't sure what it was, nor how palatable it would be but he did know that he had to demonstrate his commitment to Natalie in this small way. He felt Natalie's intense gaze as he entered the living room. Her face lit up when she saw his drink. "So, you like this blend?" she asked excitedly. "One of your better recipes," he replied, taking a small sip as he sat in the chair next to her. In some ways, he was being truthful. The chalky liquid was tasteless and sat in the pit of his stomach. At least he hadn't gagged. Some of her concoctions would not stay down at all. It didn't even begin to compare to the bounty that he knew ran through her veins, a thought that plagued him every time he allowed himself to think it. "Uh huh," she commented cautiously. She could tell that every sip was a struggle but at least he was trying. "So, what brings you by?" "I wanted to see you. Is that so unusual?" "No, I suppose it isn't," she mused. "How's the movie business?" "Tedious," he sighed, setting the goblet on the end table. "So far, I'm not discovering much more than Schanke had already determined." "Ever thought of making a life as an actor?" "Too risky," he said quickly. "We can't lead public lives. The more anonymous, the better." "But if you're as good as I think you would be, don't you think that some other director is going to come along and want you to be in their movie?" "When this case is solved, I break cover and let them know, I'm not an actor, I'm a cop." "Somehow, I don't think that would stop Hollywood from beckoning," she said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean I'd accept," he commented. "So, what were you and Janette talking about?" "Oh, you know... girl things." "Girl things?" he questioned, sensing the abrupt increase in her heart beat. "Care to enlighten me?" "Let's see," she mused. "Hemlines are rising again. Tech stocks are falling. Platform shoes are coming back. Oh, and what was that other thing?" She watched as he focused on her intently. The tension was rising. "I remember now. She told me a bit of history." "History?" "Specifically her history. With you." "Oh," he said slowly. Leaning forward, he took her hand in his, caressing it with his thumb. "Please believe me. It is just that. History." "Oh really?" she pulled her hand away, and stood, facing the closed curtains, allowing them to part slightly. "Evidently it isn't ancient history." "What, precisely, did she tell you?" Nick asked, his gaze following her to the tiny shaft of moonlights that reminded him symbolically of the sunshine they'd never share. "It's not so much what she said, it's how she said it," Natalie began. "She sort of hinted that it wasn't so ancient. That you've been together recently." She looked away, nervously playing with the drapes. This was not how she'd intended to confront him, but the longer she'd gazed into his blue eyes, the more she was losing her nerve. "Well, it's not like I can really blame you. Like you said, you do have history with her. I'm just a friend, passing through a long line of friends." "Nat, you are more than that, and you know it." "Do I? Have you ever said anything to let me know what you feel about me?" She pulled the drape closed, and paced across the room. He stood and followed her restless journey, capturing her in his arms. "Nat, you are my life, my light in the darkness. I could not go on without you." He punctuated his words with light kisses running from her forehead until their lips met. Their kiss was gentle as he held her tightly against the firmness of his chest. "Yes, I was with her a week ago," he confessed softly, maintaining a tight hold on her. "Do you love her?" "Not in the way that I love you," Nick declared firmly, pulling back to make sure he could look her in the eye. "Janette and I have a history together as the children of LaCroix. Yes, we shared blood last week but it doesn't mean what you think it does." "How do you know what I think it would mean?" she retorted. If she accomplished nothing else, it would be to get him to realize that he should not simply presume to know what she was thinking, feeling, or knowing. "OK, I'm assuming things. Forgive me," he sighed. "What do you think it means?" "You made love to her. You were with her intimately. You've just told me that you love me. How can you say that in the same breath that you tell me that you've made love to another woman?" "Nat, I didn't make love to Janette," he responded swiftly. "At least, not in the sense that you're implying. Intimacy among vampires does not signify a commitment, or emotional tie. I have a bond with Janette because LaCroix brought us both across." "Do you do that often?" she asked, holding her breath. Was her relationship a mere illusion? A plaything to him, much as his job. "No, we haven't been together for years, probably several hundred years. I have not been with any woman intimately in over a century." "So you want me to believe that you do feel an emotional tie to me? Even though I'm mortal." "Especially because you're mortal. Nat, you mean more to me than my own life. I would never endanger you. That's why I can't be intimate with you." He gently kissed her forehead, feeling her relax in his embrace. "Yeah, Janette told me the reasons in explicit detail," she commented, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Then you understand?" "I understand that you can't make love to me. I accept that. I'm not thrilled that you're seeing Janette but I have that narrow mortal view." She found it hard to hide the bitter tone in her voice. One of these days, she hoped that he would just be honest with her, and not hide behind his vampirism as an excuse. "Nat, don't knock yourself. I don't expect you to understand what my life is like. I don't think you want to." "Maybe I do," she interjected. "Maybe I do want to understand you." He pulled away, and walked to the other side of the room. "You know what you need to know. You know more than is safe." "Nick, I'm a big girl. I may have been introduced to your world by accident, but I've chosen to go pursuing things that go bump in the night. How can I be in more danger by understanding you?" He sighed, "There's a lot you don't know about the Community. It could get you killed." "Like what I know now couldn't? Come on, Nick. I'm being realistic here." "True," he smiled at last, sitting at one end of the couch and patting the seat next to him. It was as Janette had said, her knowledge was dangerous, but knowing more would not put her in any more dangerous than what she already knew. She sat down, keeping a miniscule distance between them. "You promise to be honest with me?" "Absolutely," he pledged. "I know you took the protein drink, but I think you did it to make me happy. You've barely drunk an ounce. You took it because I was watching." She paused, noting his continued silence. "So, I'm asking you now. If you could have anything to drink, anything at all, what would you want?" The silence was palpable, until in a low voice, he replied simply, "You." "Me?" she squeaked. "You want my blood?" "Yes. Does that surprise you?" "Sort of. I mean, you've said that you didn't drink human blood any more." "Yes, I've made a lifestyle choice. I don't kill any more to feed my hunger. I rarely drink human blood. That doesn't mean I don't want it. I assure you, just because I want it doesn't mean I'm going to take it." He leaned forward, capturing her hand in his. Deliberately he brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed it lightly, inhaling deeply. She shivered in anticipation. She'd never felt so aroused by a simply kiss. At this moment she would have given him anything. It was a shock to realize how quickly she'd fallen under the seductive power of the vampire. All too quickly, he pulled away, moving to the chair and picking up the goblet. "I won't do that to you, Nat. Not now, not without your consent." He took a very deliberate swallow of the protein drink. "Nick, I can give it to you. You wouldn't have to bite me," she began. "Nat, you don't know what you're saying," he protested. "It's more than you realize." "Janette told me," she said flatly. "Did she tell you everything?" Nick questioned. "Did she tell you that it would forge a bond between us, that it would start a cycle that would end only with your death." "How is that possible?" "It starts innocently enough," he replied, thinking of the times he'd attempted to forge a relationship with a mortal woman. Invariably, it was fatal for the woman. His greatest fear came from the knowledge that he'd not loved any of them to the degree that he loved Natalie. "A sip here and there. Each sip larger than the last. The desire to be with one another grows greater with each encounter. The vampire longs to possess completely but it can't. Eventually you would be brought across or would die. I've managed to hold out sampling for several months, but I've never been successful longer." His voice was grim as he spoke slowly and deliberately. "That still sounds like you're biting the person. Have you ever simply drank someone's blood without biting?" "No," he confessed. "Not intentionally, not someone I knew. Certainly not someone that I loved." "Then you don't know that it would be the same," she replied matter-of-fact. She knew that he was trying to rattle her, push her away to a comfortable distance, but she wasn't going to make it easy. "I suppose you're right," he said thoughtfully. "That doesn't mean that I want you to run out and get your bag. I still think it would be dangerous for you." "It's an open offer, Nick. I know I've pushed you to abstain from blood so it's totally out of character for me to even make this offer," she said sheepishly. "But Janette called it the ultimate in love-making. I just wanted you to know that I am willing to share myself with you." He hesitated for a fractional instant. It was all he could do to not urge her to get her medical bag right that minute. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to feel her love in his mind, in his soul, but he was not prepared for the consequences and didn't think she was either. "The offer is, uh, tempting," he replied. "I don't think this is the right time, though. This was not something I was even remotely prepared to discuss so let me think about it." "That's fine, Nick," she agreed readily, breathing a silence sigh of relief. "To be honest, if you'd taken me up on the offer right now, I'm not sure if I'd really be ready. In the meantime though, I think it's high time we were honest with each other, with our friends." "What do you mean? I think we've just been really honest with each other. I've said things to you that I've never said to any woman." "That isn't it," she smiled. It came as no surprise to her that he had no idea what she was talking about. "Oh come on, Nick. Even Schanke is getting suspicious that our interest in one another is more than professional. You've just told me in no uncertain terms that you love me." "What, you want me to kiss you in the middle of the precinct?" he teased, realizing what she meant. "Well that would turn a few heads, I'm sure," she laughed. "I was really thinking something less conspicuous." "As in?" "Act like a couple. Stop sneaking around. If someone were to ask you where you spent the day, you say that you were with me." "Maybe even go on a date," he added. "Oh? A date? A real date?" she teased. "Yes, when this undercover assignment is over, I'll take you on a date that you'll never forget." His mind was in a whirl thinking of the possibilities. This could be a lot of fun. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Reporting to the studio Monday morning, Nick was greeted by a tall stack of paper of varying colors resting on the table in his dressing room. Sitting on top was a memo explaining what color corresponded to what scene as well as a schedule for rehersals and filming. Things were winding down, with only three weeks left on the official schedule. So far, all he had was a suspicion that the lead actor knew more than he let on. Unfortunately, he kept to himself and had rebuffed Nick's attempts to be more cordial. There had not been any practical jokes or other incidents since Nick had joined the cast. He wasn't sure if that was coincidental or not. Most of the cast believed that there was an undercover officer around but it was widely believed that it was someone on the crew. After putting several containers of Natalie's latest recipe in the refrigerator, he studied the schedule, leafing through the stack to find the pages he'd need to read first. For the first time, he had an appointment with the stunt coordinator. He'd been waiting for this. It could only mean that they were getting close to working on the fight scene in the garden. The scene that had proven fatal for Marcus Wayne. "Nick?" looking up from his paperwork, Nick saw a tall, athletic man standing at the doorway. "I'm Kevin Hage. I'm the stunt coordinator. We have an appointment." "Yes, I just saw the schedule," Nick agreed, stacking the papers back on the table and following Kevin down a corridor to an area of the studio he'd not seen previously. They entered a large room with an extremely high ceiling. Pushed against one wall was a long table that had a variety of armaments. The other walls were padded, as was the floor. "Before we start, have they given you next week's pages?" "That's what I was glancing through when you arrived." "OK, so you know the scene I'll be setting up for you?" "Not exactly," Nick said apologetically. "Like I said, I just got the pages. I haven't done more than skim through them." "I'll lay it out for you then," he strode to the opposite side of the room and picked up a wooden sword. Taking a few practice swings, he began to move into a combat stance. "You're in the garden with Julian. He has announced his intention to marry your sister despite your objection. You know that he's a vampire, and won't give your consent." "He's angry and threatens to kill me," Nick finished. "Not exactly," Kevin replied, resting the sword tip on the floor. "He tells you that he doesn't need your consent." "That's not true. She would not marry without the consent of her lord." Nick blurted quickly. "Medieval scholar or something?" he looked at Nick quizzically. "Something like that. I guess I've buried myself in the role. I've done a lot of reading. Go on." "Uh huh," he responded, keeping a curious look at Nick. "Anyway, Julius declares that he is a superior being and can do what he likes." At this comment, Nick could not help rolling his eyes in disgust. That sounded precisely like something that LaCroix would say. "He'll take your sister, and make her a vampire whether you agree or not. You draw your sword, and threaten him." "Who wins?" Nick asked grimly. He'd not read the revised scene but if it ended the way the original script did, he would be mortally wounded and would succumb to Julius's persuasive ability and accept the offer of immortality, more to protect his sister and family than anything else. Like Nick, Robert would soon regret the decision and spend the rest of the millennium trying to go back. "He does," Kevin said matter-of-fact. "So you're going to teach me to fight a losing battle," Nick commented, accepting a wooden sword from him. The fact they were fighting with wood, he knew was because it was considered less dangerous. To Nick, it was more dangerous and it merely made him more nervous. He had no doubts about his abilities to fight, but he'd not used a wooden sword since he was 8 years old. "I'm going to teach you a well choreographed scene. Just like a ballet. I'm hoping you can handle a sword in a believable manner. We'll go from the wooden weapons to the real thing after we've run through it a few times and I'm comfortable that you won't hurt yourself." "OK," Nick agreed, watching as Kevin demonstrated the moves, coaching him to move a certain way. They worked in slow motion at first, gradually working up to full speed. It only took a few times before Kevin shook his head, walking over to the table. "I think you can handle the real thing," he said setting the wooden weapon down and picking up a sword. Nick followed, and perused the variety of weapons before selecting one and taking a few practice cuts. "Yeah, you can handle a sword." Practicing the scene exactly as Kevin had demonstrated, Nick did his best to keep himself in character and suppress the vampire's instinct to react to being threatened. On the third run, he cracked. When he was supposed to be tiring, and his swings becoming more defensive, he instead fought back. Within a few minutes, he had Kevin backed against the wall. "Oops," he grinned, stepping back, and allowing Kevin to catch his breath. "What was *that* about?" Kevin asked shaking his head in amazement. "Got tired of losing," he shrugged, reaching out to shake Kevin's hand as a gesture of peace. "I see that," he commented, incredulous how quickly he'd been defeated by an *actor*. That had never happened to him. "No harm intended," Nick said apologetically. "I guess I don't need a stunt double for you," he said, picking up his sword and moving back to the starting position. "That was a consideration?" "Well, since you'll be fighting him, I guess you should know. Jake can't handle a sword believably, so you'll actually fight a double. They'll edit in a few close-up shots of him." "I bet that'll make him *real* happy," Nick observed. "He wasn't keen on the scene to begin with, so I doubt it'll make a difference," Kevin replied. Nick was not convinced. If this wasn't 'showing up' the other actor, he didn't know what was. It would be interesting to see his reaction. "Shall we do this again? I want to make sure you can do this as we planned. Remember, you lose the fight." "Got it," Nick said sheepishly. ****** "OK, Kevin, tell me something good," Bob demanded as the two men paused over late afternoon coffee. The week's schedule was covered with penciled notations. "We're set for 122-B," he announced, looking around the room to see who might be listening in. "Got a double set for Nick?" he asked, stirring another packet of sugar into his mug. "Don't need one. He'll be fine," he replied casually. "Oh? That's good. I wasn't expecting it, but it'll make the editing easier if I only have to replace close-ups of one actor." "Sure will," he agreed. "I gotta tell you though, he's almost too good. If I let him, he'd defeat our stunt man easily. He had me pinned in less than ten minutes and didn't even break a sweat." "You're exaggerating." Bob scoffed at the idea. "I'm not. I've seen a lot of guys fence. This guy doesn't just fence. He's fighting like he really *is* fighting for his life. Doesn't make sense." "Maybe he's fenced before." "I tell you, it was more than that. How much do we really know about this guy?" "How much do we need to know, Kev?" he sighed. "The private lives of my actors aren't my business. The guy can act, he's doing a job. That's all that matters here." "If you say so," Kevin said hesitantly. He'd heard the rumors as much as anyone else. Supposedly there was an undercover police detective on the set. Everyone thought it was an extra or someone on the tech crew. From the bits of incongruity that he'd seen from Nick, it made him question that assumption. CHAPTER NINETEEN Finished with his scenes for the day, Nick retreated to his dressing room, ostensibly to study his lines. In reality, he was lost in memories. He knew what was going through the character's mind. The Crusades had changed the character much as it had personally. Physically, emotionally and above all, spiritually. In this story, Sir Robert came back to his home disillusioned, tired. Forced by a sense of duty to see to the welfare of his mother and sister following the death of an older brother, he put his own life and happiness on hold. Nick had been on a very similar journey when he'd met LaCroix on that fateful night in Paris. He'd not had the chance for the tearful reunion until he'd already become a vampire. Would he have made the same decision if he'd made it back to Brabant? They would be filming tomorrow. Powerful, emotional scenes that laid a foundation for Robert's eventual accepting the offer to become a vampire. The actual conversion was not yet scripted but would follow a fateful battle between Robert and Sir Julius Lucius. It was a fight that would culminate in his character being mortally wounded. The murder that Nick was investigating had occurred after rehearsals for that particular scene. The work he'd done with the stunt coordinator was to prepare him physically for the scene. The fight was a challenge for Nick in ways he'd not anticipated. To lose to a lesser opponent rankled his sense of pride, but he kept telling himself that it was only theater. He'd been very careful to stick to the choreographed moves, not to improvise or fight back. He'd done it only once and ever since then, Kevin had been very cautious around him. They'd gone back to practicing with the wooden swords which made it even more obvious that the stunt expert was all too aware of his skill. "Nice work, Nick," he looked up to see another actor leaning against the door frame. "Uh, thanks," Nick responded, gesturing for the man to come inside. For all of their plans that Nick would gain information from other actors, it had not worked that way. With his own dressing area to retreat and dealing with the powerful emotions, Nick had not developed the rapport that he'd hoped to. "Sam, Sam Harris," he replied, holding his hand out. "Nick Hubbard," Nick accepted the handshake and offered a seat. "I know. I've been asking about you." "Oh?" "Well, you came from out of nowhere to get a major part. You're obviously talented but no one had ever heard of you. Seriously, where've you been hiding?" "To be honest, this is my first professional job in Canada. I've done some stage work overseas but it's been a while. I've been doing a little carpentry work to pay the bills." Nick leaned back against the couch's cushions. He was being truthful, as much as was possible. "I just heard they were looking for some background people for a period piece and my agent sent me over. I'd no idea they were looking for a lead." "It sort of surprised us all," Sam shrugged. "I've been on projects that replaced folks mid-shoot, but never been on one that someone died." "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you about his death," Nick asked hesitantly. "Sure," he agreed. He thought that everyone on the set knew all of the details but then again, Nick wasn't around at that time. Maybe they had not told the new cast and crew everything that had happened.. "I've told the cops everything I know, but you're not a cop." "How did Marcus die?" "They didn't tell you?" Sam commented, shaking his head. What did the studio have to hide? Were they protecting someone? Why would they not tell new cast that someone had been killed? "Course not, why would they? He was killed. Throat slashed." "Where? Was he mugged or something? Should I be worried about my car?" "If I drove that car, I'd be worried all the time," Sam commented. He'd noticed the vintage Corvette the first day it appeared in the parking lot. They'd all noticed Nick's car. "No, he was killed right here in the studio. On the garden set to be precise." "Is that why the cops are around so much?" Nick asked casually. "Yeah, they haven't figured out who did it," he spoke in a low voice. "Get this. I think they suspect someone here." "No, you're kidding." "I'm serious. The rumor is that someone on the crew is an undercover cop." "Wouldn't you know that someone was new?" "After the murder there wereas a lot of accidents. Several of the extras and a few and a lot of the crew walked." "Accidents? What kind of accidents? I haven't seen anything happening unusual." "The usual movie set pranks but some got out of hand. Give him time. He hasn't been pissed off lately. "Who?" "Oh, you know. Every project has its prankster. For us, it's Jake. He can be a pain in the butt but he's basically harmless if you don't show him up." "If you do?" "My advice is, don't," Sam said with a deadly serious tone. "Look, I don't know you, but believe me, you don't want to be on Jake's bad side." "Is he dangerous?" "I'd call it more vindictive. You're a good actor so you're a target. You've got a lot of scenes with him in the next week. Check your costumes before filming. Jake's been known to alter them. He also likes to tamper with the water glasses. Put salt in them, stuff like that. He thinks its funny but I think it's sort of juvenile." "That doesn't sound too bad," Nick observed. "I can't prove it, and I didn't witness it, but I think he had something to do with Marcus's death." "In what way?" "I heard them fighting the day before. Jake had some flashback scenes cut because they were adding more for Marcus. Jake had not gotten past the fact that Marcus's name would come first in the credits. He thought he was the better actor and should be first named." "What possible difference does that make?" Nick asked with genuine bewilderment. He'd heard a lot of motives for murder, but this had to be the strangest. If, indeed that *was* the motive. "Ego. Come on, Nick, you're in the business. You know what some people will do to get their name above the title." "So he'd kill a man, just for professional jealousy?" "I didn't say he killed him. I just think it's possible that he was involved." Sam studied Nick's expression closely. "You aren't going to tell that detective, are you?" "What would I tell him?" Nick scoffed. "That I heard a rumor? Come on. I have no desire to get involved in something like that." "Good. For a moment, you sounded like someone who's done interrogations before." "Just done my share of interviews. That's all." Nick replied carefully. The conversation had only served to strengthen Nick's suspicions. "Hah, don't I know it," Sam agreed. "So, where do you come from? Any family?" "No family around here," Nick commented, deliberately not fully answering the question. "You?" "Wife, two kids," he said briefly, noting that the other man didn't seem too eager to discuss personal matters. It was not unusual for people in the business to want to maintain a semblance of privacy but Nick's reticence went beyond that. He was not the first person on the set to wonder about the talented actor that seemed to come from no where. It had been the stunt coordinator that had first mentioned it to Sam. "Got a girlfriend?" "Yes," Nick acknowledged. Stating that he was seeing someone would make it less suspicious if he was seen with Natalie. Besides, this was what they both wanted. "Haven't seen her around. You should bring her with you. Most of the guys have brought their wives or girlfriends to the set at least once." "Maybe I will, but she works nights," Nick commented. "She's a doctor." "Too bad. I bet she'd like seeing you in action. You should at least bring her to the wrap party. I think the details are being set up so you could find out the date. Maybe she could get the night off. Ask one of the interns. They know that sort of thing." "I'll think about it," he replied, knowing it would depend on the status of the investigation. If things were not closed, to bring the coroner to a social gathering would surely blow his cover. It was one thing to talk of Nat in vague terms but it was another thing to actually bring her to the set as a visitor He wasn't sure if anyone would really remember her, but he wasn't willing to take that risk. CHAPTER TWENTY Despite having over a month on the set, and filming numerous scenes, the fight still gave Nick a sinking feeling. He'd convinced himself that it was simply because of the risk it posed to his instincts. To allow himself to be defeated deliberately took great concentration. The truth ran much deeper. As scripted, this was the catalyst to Robert's conversion. Nick could not help thinking intently on what had led *him* to accept the offer of immortality. Despite years of proclaiming that he didn't know what he was doing, that he could never have accepted LaCroix's offer had he known the whole truth, he was realizing that was not the case. He would have accepted anyway. He would have turned his back on the Church, on God, on his family. The weight of his obligations coupled with his experiences while imprisoned in a Moorish castle had left him without hope. Without dreams. The centuries had dimmed his memory of that time when he could still step into the sun, touch a holy icon and love a woman without fear. In all those years, he'd not spent this much time contemplating his past. The scene was the only one Nick was scheduled to complete that day. It made him wonder just how many takes they were expecting. He'd been working directly with Jake's double for the past several days. Having heard that Nick could handle a sword with more expertise than was being allowed, the stuntman had engaged him in a few unscripted sparring matches, just for fun. Even so, Nick had held back. To turn himself loose totally would certainly be fatal for the stuntman. His knowledge of weaponry was intended for show, for fun. Nick's training with a sword was for self preservation, for defense. To Nick, it had been a matter of life and death. Looking around, Nick realized that someone was missing. Where was Jake? He knew that a double was being used for the most intense part of the fight, but had expected to run through the entire scene in order. "We'll run through the fight a few times before Jake gets here," Bob instructed, nodding to the stuntman who stood off to the side. Taking their positions, the two men performed the scene exactly as scripted. It was easier than Nick had imagined. Just as Kevin had told him the first day they'd met. This was not a fight, it was a carefully constructed dance. Off to the side, he saw Jake arrive. As usual, his fur trimmed costume was impeccably pressed. It bothered Nick to no end, knowing that a man's robes would *not* be perfectly straight and pressed but for him to say anything would open an argument he couldn't win without revealing more than he should. Seeing Nick on the set, wielding a sword expertly, his brows narrowed. Even before Marcus's death, he'd begged off that particular scene, making merely a half hearted attempt to learn how to swing the weapon. Of course, that had made it only too easy for him to truly defeat Marcus. The other actor had assumed that Jake could not use a weapon, not that he simply would not. To see Nick demonstrating an ease that surpassed even their weapons consultant infuriated him. With the cameras rolling, he couldn't do anything, but he was determined to come up with something that would put the man in his place. "OK, gentlemen, let's take the scene from the beginning," Bob called out and waited for Jake to take his place in the center of the garden. There would be a sequence where the two men would argue. Nick would draw his sword, and they would then edit in the parts that had been filmed with the stunt man fighting in Jake's place. Bob was hoping that there would be more emotion, more feeling in the scene. While Nick had run through the scene expertly, he was clearing going through the motions. Somehow being with Jake brought out an intensity in him that captivated the cameras. By the time that Jake stepped aside, it was clear that Bob had been right. While the movements were still the scripted steps, the facial expressions revealed more intensity, more feeling. It was a much better scene, and while he knew that Jake would be less than pleased to have to wait, in Bob's eyes, it made for a better film. "OK, Jake," Bob called out. "We're ready for you. Nick, stay where you are." Holding his sword loosely, Nick waited for the stunt man to trot off to the side. With a tug of his fur trimmed robe, Jake strode onto the set and stood opposite Nick. The fury in his eyes was clear. As soon as Bob had called for the cameras to start, he swung into action. Despite his previous disdain for the sword fight, he punctuated every word, every gesture with his sword, with his body. The carefully choreographed scene had called for Jake to simply gesture with his sword, pinning Nick against the wall. The anger flowed through him with every word. Despite their extensively rehearsed plan, he stepped back, swinging the sword viciously. It was a good thing that, while polished to a brilliant shine, the swords were not terribly sharp. Nick was not about to surrender so easily to Jake's challenge. Despite the fact that his character was supposed to be tiring under the assault of a more experienced fighter, Nick returned the thrust of Jake's sword with his own. The two men continued to fight as if their lives depended upon it. It was only with tremendous strength of will that Nick allowed his part in the scene to continue as scripted. He allowed the lesser fighter to gain the upper hand and pin him against the stone wall of the castle. The desperation and fear were clear in his voice. He knew only too well what was going on in the character's mind. For him, it had been an ambush in a hot, dusty Moorish castle, not the lush French countryside that the movie set depicted but the feeling was the same. This time his desperation was to fight his every instinct by not fighting back. "Cut!" Bob called out as Nick slumped to the ground. It was hard for the director to hide his enthusiasm. He didn't usually like actors improvising important scenes, especially ones that included dangerous stunts activities, but this had been powerfully done. It was even better than had been rehearsed. "Good work, gentlemen. I don't want to lose the mood. We'll keep going. Both of you stay there," he called out and gestured to the makeup people to do their work. Nick was immediately surrounded by the makeup crew and was given the appearance of having severe wounds. He was given clothing that was bloodied, and torn and artificial blood was painted along his arms, neck and face. As soon as they stepped away, the signal came to resume. Jake stood over Nick's prone body, gesturing with his sword, his eyes dark and menacing. "Now do you realize that I am a superior being?" he hissed malevolently. "You would prevent your sister from being like I am? Immortal. Never knowing sickness, weakness or death. You would prevent her from enjoying life everlasting?" "She will enjoy life everlasting when she goes to her eternal reward," Nick coughed, breathing heavily as he clutched his wounded arm against his chest. "You mean when she *dies*," Jake responded with disdain. "She could have so much more. She need not die." "At the cost of her immortal soul?" Nick responded vehemently, writhing in the pain he knew came from sword wounds. It had been 8 centuries but he still bore the scars. He still carried the memories. "Such spirit. Such determination," Jake mused standing over Nick, leaning on the sword, periodically brushing the sharp tip against Nick's chest. "Such a waste," he declared. He clucked his tongue and began to walk away. The cameras kept rolling, focused on Nick. Ever so carefully, Nick slowed his breathing and closed his eyes to wait for Bob to cut the scene. Stopping a few feet from the edge of the set, Jake turned and strode closer to Nick. This was a calculated risk, and he wasn't sure if Bob would stop him, but he had to try. No way was he going to allow this amateur to upstage him on camera no less. The idea had come to him while watching Nick film, and he'd scripted it in his mind. "On the other hand," he gave a sinister growl, keeping his back to the camera as his drew his sword over the palm of his hand. The blood welled swiftly and pooled as he turned so that the cameras could catch his expression and actions. Kneeling next to Nick, he held the bloodied hand next to Nick's face. "It would be an even greater waste to not allow you to see what I will do with your sister. I will have her, whether or not you agree but what is even more important. I will have you at my side as well." Dripping the blood across Nick's face, he held it next to his mouth. "Drink, Robert. You will live a thousand lifetimes at my side. Drink and you will be mine." Nick was shocked beyond rationale thought. He'd played the dying part just as had been scripted. Yes, the fight had gone beyond what they'd practiced, but not to any extreme. He'd remained motionless, breathing as little as possible while he waited for Bob to yell 'cut'. The scent of the fresh, warm blood was bringing his vampire instincts dangerously close. He could feel the tingling pressure of his fangs, aching to descend. Aching to drink from that fountain that was being offered so freely. With the blood filled hand next to his mouth, and the cameras rolling, Nick did the only thing he could. He drank. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Settling into his darkened dressing room, Nick sifted through the thoughts and memories that had come to him with the simple taste of Jake's blood. The case was solved. Now to gather the evidence to prove it. He was still shocked at how the scene had played out. They'd not done another take. Nick had fled to set as soon as Bob yelled 'cut'. The unexpected taste of human blood, warm and fresh coupled with the stress of suppressing his instinct to fight had brought the vampire closer to the surface than he dared. A soft knock on the door broke his reverie. Nick opened it, and let Bob inside. "That was, umm, not planned," Bob commented, seeing the towel in Nick's hand. The first thing Nick had done was to wash the blood, both real and fake, off his face. "You handled it well," he commented apologetically. "I didn't think you'd spring that on me," Nick replied dryly. "Tell me you aren't going to make me do it again." "No. We got it on several cameras. The footage looks great. Means I have to scrap several pages but this was better than what we'd planned." "What *was* he thinking?" Nick asked rhetorically. "You'll have to ask him," Bob shrugged. "Like I said, I didn't ask Jake to do that. I was about to cut it when I saw him turn around. I wasn't sure what he was planning, so we kept rolling. The two of you have done some pretty good unscripted things so far, so I took a chance. I'm glad I did. It worked, and we're going to keep it." "So I don't need to learn these pages?" Nick asked, holding up a sheaf of pale blue papers. "No. We'll rework it. We're figuring out a new schedule, but you're done for the day." He paused for a moment, as if reluctant to continue. "We've asked Jake to get tested for HIV and hepatitis. Don't know if you could get either one from drinking his blood but you never know." "Thanks," Nick replied. Bob shook his head slightly, "You know, I don't think I could have done that. Even with the cameras rolling... I just want to thank you." "You're welcome," Nick replied simply. In all the time that he'd been on the project, he'd never known Bob to go to anyone's dressing room, nor thank any of the actors. In reflection on the situation though, he realized that to a mortal, the drinking of blood intentionally was, indeed an odd act. **** As soon as the sun was low enough in the sky for Nick to venture outside he found himself drawn to Natalie's apartment. Having been away from the world of homicide investigations, he was not sure of her work schedule anymore. "Nick, she exclaimed, opening the door with a broad smile. "What are you doing here?" "I needed to see you," he replied following her into the living room. "Are you working tonight?" "Give me a minute and I'll call the office. Things have been pretty quiet so I should be able to take an on-call night." She scurried into the kitchen and soon returned with the phone in one hand and two bottles cradled in the other elbow. Setting the phone on the table, she handed a bottle to him and twisted the cap off her soda which settling into one end of the couch. He studied the green glass bottle intently, swirling the contents slowly. Natalie never simply handed him blood before, even bottled. Had she been talking to Janette again? "Go on Nick, you've been at the studio all day. I'm sure you're hungry." She urged, seeing his reluctance. "Actually, I'm not," he said flatly. She raised an eyebrow at his tone but said nothing. "I've already eaten." "The shakes are holding you then?" she asked mildly. He took a deep breath and blew it out in a low whistle. "Not precisely," he shrugged. "I didn't come over to talk about my diet." "OK, sure," she acknowledged. Now she was intrigued. If she was reading him correctly, he'd eaten, but not one of her shakes. What else could he have found at the studio? "I solved the case," he began. "That's great," she exclaimed. "So you're here to celebrate? Where's Schanke? When do you come back on active duty?" "Not so fast," he cautioned. "Schanke doesn't know and I'm not sure what to tell him. I'm not quite sure how to handle this." "Wait a minute," she looked at him suspiciously. "Start over. What do you know and how'd you learn it?" "Jake, the lead actor, killed Marcus in a fit of jealous rage," he commented casually. It made it more real to say it. "OK, I know you were both suspicious of him," Natalie commented. "Now tell me the rest. Who told you and how reliable a source are they?" "Oh the source is impeccable but I can't tell anyone but you." He sighed heavily. "Jake told me." "He confessed?" Natalie questioned, puzzled at Nick's obvious reluctance. Usually he was jubilant when he'd settled cases and she knew that this one had been a particularly long and difficult investigation. "Not exactly. I saw it in his blood." "Nick, what did you do?" she asked sternly. This was not even close to what she'd been expecting to hear him say. From her conversations with both Janette and Nick, she knew better than to argue the validity of his knowledge. What had possessed him to use that tactic? "It wasn't my idea," he protested, slowly explaining what had happened on the set. "Why on earth would he do that?" she asked "I'm sure he intended it to be a practical joke of some sort." Nick shrugged his shoulders, trying to distance himself from the thoughts and knowledge that was now in the forefront of his mind. Jake had gotten by on his wits more than talent for many years. It was disturbing to know all of the shady deals that had kept him employed despite a reputation for being difficult. That alone was enough to convince Nick that he would not do well in the Hollywood environment. "But they got it on film?" she asked with dismay. "Yes, they were filming. Nat, I was careful. I had my eyes closed and I never let my fangs drop. I came close but I got out of the room pretty quickly. I didn't reveal anything. Bob thinks I'm an overly dedicated actor." "What are you going to do now?" "I don't know," he admitted. "Jake wouldn't know that I now know the truth. I certainly can't tell anyone how I figured it out. I can only hope he slips somehow." "What are the chances of that happening?" she asked skeptically. "I don't think very good. He's made it through several interviews with Schanke without doing anything more than annoying us with his attitude." "Let's face it though. Schank is a good cop, but he isn't you." "Natalie, you know how I get my information," he pointed out. "Yes, I do," she nodded. "It's a bad habit." "I have my reasons," he commented. He knew that his skills came in handy and he used them more often than not when interrogating uncooperative suspects. He'd obtained more than one confession that would not have been obtained otherwise. He rationalized it by thinking that the ends justified the means. To put criminals behind bars was as good a reason as any. "I'm sure you do. I'm sure they are good reasons, but if you truly want to be mortal you won't be able to do that any more. Think about it." "What are you trying to say?" "Simply that you have skills that you use without conscious thought. You'll lose them when you cross back over. It would be like a mortal losing a sense, going blind or deaf. There will be an adjustment." She saw that she had his attention. "Becoming mortal is more than being able to go outside in sunshine or go to church." "I know that," he said emphatically. "For everything that you gain, you'll lose something," she cautioned. This was a discussion they'd avoided far too long. She wanted him to be happy above all, but was beginning to question whether it was really mortality that he wanted. "Now you sound like Janette," he said suspiciously. "Have you been talking to her again?" "No," she frowned. "You know that I'd like nothing more than to go to a tropical island with you and not worry about the SPF 2000 sunscreen." She leaned over and took his hand loosely in hers. "On the other hand, I don't want you regretting it. You've been a vampire so long...." "You know what I want, Nat." "Do I? You also know why you want it?" she questioned. "Yes," he said emphatically. "Nat, we've been over this before." "No, I've asked. You've given partial answers. Maybe I'm not convinced. Let's go over this again. You say that you want redemption." "Yes, forgiveness for my sins," he elaborated. "Maybe theology has changed, but I don't see why that isn't possible right now. Have you even tried to pray? Have you tried to go to a church lately?" "Yes, there was that case last year," he replied. "I was weakened, sickened." "That was still a very traditional appearing church filled with statues, and symbols. Try going to a contemporary church that doesn't have crucifixes all and statues of the virgin everywhere," she paused for a moment. "Watch Mass on television or simply pray. You can read the Bible, can't you?" "I can't hold it but yes, I can read it," he acknowledged. "It burns me. That means that I have not been forgiven." "How do you know that? Have you even tried talking to a priest?" she asked with frustration. Sometimes he could be so set in his thinking. "Nick, mortality doesn't equal redemption. Think of all the mortals that do things just as evil as the worst of vampires." She sighed. This conversation was simply going round and round. Neither was likely to change their thoughts on the issue any time soon. "Think about what you do for a living." "I know that some mortals are capable of doing evil, but even the worse serial murderer does not compare to things that I've done." "Are you so sure about that? I could name you some pretty evil mortal men. Besides, you haven't done those evil things for centuries," she commented. "Nick, before you ask for God's forgiveness, you have to forgive yourself." "That's the hard part," he whispered. Sitting straighter, he gazed at her calmly. "In my heart, I don't think that God will forgive me as a vampire. How can I say that I'll sin no more if I'm still a creature of the night?" "I'll ask you this again. Which of God's commandments do you break simply by living as a vampire? You sin less than most mortal men, or at least you're more aware of it. Besides, I'm not convinced that it isn't possible. I want you to think this through. Who's to say that you would be happy as a mortal?" "You won't help me any more?" he asked softly. He'd always feared that she would tire of his quest, grow discouraged with their lack of progress. Was this her way of bowing out? "I didn't say that," she replied quickly. "Think of me as the voice of reason. Don't you wish someone had done that 800 years ago?" "I suppose," he acknowledged. "If nothing else, doing this movie has reminded me what my state of mind was. I have a clearer picture in my mind why I accepted LaCroix's offer." He sighed, remembering the feeling of being in that smoke filled tavern, watching the younger warriors in their naïve enthusiasm toasting victory. A victory that he knew would not come. He knew only too well that many of them would perish fighting a needless battle in a foreign land. "Even if he'd told me the whole story at the beginning, I don't know that I would have refused." "I thought you said that you wanted to go back almost immediately." "I did," he nodded. "Natalie, I'd seen so much death, so much suffering. The thought that I'd cause more death, just so that I could survive was more than I could stand," his voice came out in a rush. "I was very ambivalent at first." "At first?" she laughed. "Nick, listen to yourself. You're still ambivalent. You seek mortality like it's the Holy Grail but you don't know why. It's like the quest of the knights of King Arthur." She paused for a moment, eyeing him intently. "Don't tell me you met him too?" "Wrong millennium, Nat," he observed dryly. He could see her point. It was the same one that Janette had been trying to make. What was he trying to accomplish by seeking mortality? "If I want to continue the search, you'll still help me?" "Of course," she agreed. "I don't give up a research project that quickly." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "There is something that we need to think about, though." "And that is?" he prompted. "At some point, you'll move on, correct?" "Well, yeah," he acknowledged. "People will notice that I don't age. I've never tried staying in one place more than ten years continuously." "You've been in Toronto for how long?" "I'd been here for about a year before we met but if I'm not interacting with many people, I don't worry." "So we have about six more years," she began. "At least, he interjected. "Like I said, I've never tried, but I could probably stretch it to fifteen years if I'm careful." "If things have not changed," she murmured, almost afraid to say more. "Nat, leaving is always the most difficult thing I do. I never take it lightly." "But sometimes it happens quickly," she studied his expression closely before continuing. "Doesn't it?" "Yes," he nodded. "If I'm close to being revealed, I disappear. Quickly." He saw the fear in her eyes, heard the tremulous way she was breathing. "Nat, if I ever had to leave, I'd get in touch. You know that." "Would you take me with you?" she asked quietly. "That is a decision best left for when it really needs to be decided. I don't want to commit to something, or hold you to something that abstract." She nodded. That was a reasonable answer and, at least was not a flat denial. Keeping her voice as steady as she could, she softly asked her final question. It was one that she'd long wondered but had never had the courage to voice. "If I asked, would you bring me across?" He was stunned. Never in a million years had he imagined that phrase coming out of her mouth. Their eyes focused on each other, he finally answered in an unsteady voice. "I... I don't know." She squeezed his hand, her eyes shining, hopeful. "I haven't given up and I don't plan to. I didn't expect you to give me an answer. Either way, I'd have known you were lying." "That, too, is a decision that I don't think should be discussed in an abstract setting. If you were to ask me to bring you across tonight, I'd say no. Is that an absolute never? I don't think so," he replied thoughtfully. "But in regards to your first question, I have one for you. Do you know what it means to move on?" he asked seriously. "Sort of," she hesitated. "It means you disappear, Nat," he replied, calm, matter-of-fact. "Completely. You are dead to all that know you in this life. "It isn't just a vacation somewhere or that you've transferred. You start a new life. Take a new name. You never see or communicate with your family or friends again. You take a new job in a different profession. One that no one would know you from before." He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly. "I love you, and would like you by my side for the rest of out lives, but I don't know if I can ask you to make the sacrifices that you'd have to make." "Would you at least give me the choice?" she asked. "When the time comes, which I hope is not anytime soon, but when that time does come, would you let me decide for myself?" "Yes," he said simply, pulling her closer until she was cradled against him. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO It hit Nick shortly after he walked into the studio the next morning. Everyone who saw him had something to say. Some joked, some were merely appalled but it seemed that everyone had either seen, or heard of the stunt. As soon as Nick flipped on the lights in his dressing room, he saw the stack of papers. Evidently the scriptwriters had been burning the midnight oil while he was having his heart-to-heart with Natalie. "Got new scenes?" He looked up to see the stunt man leaning on the door frame. "Looks that way," he acknowledged. "Come on in." "Just wanted to congratulate you on a good fight," Kevin smiled, sitting on the couch opposite Nick. "You sort of hurried off yesterday." "Can you blame me?" "No, not at all," he laughed. "I think I'd have been praying to the porcelain god if someone had done that to me," he shuddered with the thought of what he'd witnessed the day before. "Well, I came close," Nick grinned. "So what's the consensus? People think I was an idiot for going along with his little prank?" "No, from what I heard, Jake didn't score too many points with anyone. That was beyond gross." He shook his head slightly. "I'm not that dedicated. I may do a lot of crazy things, but *that* takes the cake. You actually drank his blood. I may have swallowed some of my own once or twice but..." "Well, it had been a good shoot. I didn't want to ruin it," Nick interrupted. That his fangs had dropped didn't seem like a very good answer, he thought to himself. "So, do I get to work with you anymore?" "No, unfortunately not," he frowned. "I would like to play a little, if you have time. I could use the practice and not too many of the guys pose much of a challenge." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I may be wrong, but I think you were holding back." Nick nodded in agreement, "I was." He was hoping to simply leave it at that, rationalizing that Kevin had already made an accurate assessment of his skills. "Thought so," Kevin smiled. He would have loved to know where Nick had learned to fight so fiercely but he knew better than to ask. It was a military type style, and if he had truly been trained in any sort of military unit, that knowledge was unlikely to be shared. "Stop by the gym anytime." "I'll keep that in mind," Nick agreed. Kevin stood, holding out his hand. "It's been a pleasure working with you Nick. I wish you the best. If you don't have time to come play, I'll make sure you have my email. I'm in Toronto fairly frequently." "Thanks, I'll try to make the time to do a round or two," Nick smiled, shaking Kevin's hand. He settled back into the couch, picking up the folder that had today's date on it. **** It was routine to do an initial reading of each new scene around a conference room. It allowed awkward dialogue to be adjusted as well as giving the director an initial chance to set up what would be happening. Nick usually enjoyed these early morning exchanges. The lively discussions gave him a better sense of the art of acting from modern professionals. A lot had changed since his foray into the Shakespearean theater. He'd meant it when he'd told Natalie about the possibility of him acting again. It was a risk he couldn't take, much to his regret. While, to some extent, his numerous mortal personas were acting, it was not the same. That particular morning, Nick had very mixed feelings about what was to come. Being in the same room as Jake was not going to be the same since he'd tasted his warm, fresh blood. In his mind, he could recall every thought, every nuance of what was going through Jake's mind. It had been a very, very long time since he'd obtained information that way, even if it had been unintentional. Pulling his thermos out of the refrigerator, Nick filled a tall plastic cup and attached the lid. This blend was the best that Natalie had ever made. She'd handed it to him that morning with a sneaky smile, waving off his usual test taste. She'd just said, "Oh, I know you can tolerate it. Enjoy." It was enough to make him wonder just what she'd been doing with Janette lately. Taking his cup and the script, Nick went to the conference room. He knew that Jake would wait until the last minute to show up. Bob and two other actors were already there, guzzling coffee. He nodded to them briefly and took his seat. "Coffee?" the young assistant offered. "No thanks, Amy," Nick shook his head, holding up his cup. "Well, while we're waiting for Jake, I think we can start working on the opening part of the scene. We'll take it from page 1 and work to page 4, when Julius enters the room." Bob set his mug on the table. Forty minutes later, the assistant had refreshed the coffee twice and they'd discussed the scene's opening act with Nick and Mariana, the young woman that portrayed Robert's sister. Nick had not had many scenes with the petite brunette but had enjoyed every minute. She had a passion for her profession and learning that bore an uncanny resemblance to his true sister. Fleur had been educated far beyond most of her contemporaries. She was interested in astronomy and science, not counting linens or endlessly comparing dowries. Mariana spoke three languages and had studied Medieval History in preparation for this role. She met Nick's commentaries of the historical accuracy of their scenes with great interest. Fighting to protect her from a vampire suitor seemed real, almost too real. "Amy, call him again," Bob instructed with an exasperated frown. "Tell him that I'm docking his pay if he isn't here in ten minutes." "You wouldn't dare." "Try me," Bob stared him down. "This reading was supposed to start at nine. It is now 9:40." "Then let's get down to business, shall we?" Jake waltzed into the room and sat at the far end of the table, as far from Nick as possible. "We'll pick it up on the bottom of page 4," he said calmly. He paused for a moment, eying Jake's expressionless face. "Before I let the writers leave for the weekend, got any more surprises up your sleeve?" "We'll see," Jake shrugged. "I'll let you know if I don't like the way this is written." "That would be preferable. I'm not a fan of actors improvising while we're rolling." "And I think it truly unprofessional to have this discussion in public," Jake replied angrily. "Too bad. I think Nick has the right to hear it. After all, he's the one who was forced to be the recipient of a really bad joke." "It wasn't a joke. That scene needed a boost." "Jake, the reason we have these readings and all the rehearsals is to get a feel for the scene and to see if it needs any alteration. I don't recall you making any comments." He silenced him with a stern look. "Don't do it again." "Fine," Jake huffed angrily. "Let's get this over with." "Why the hurry? Hot date this weekend?" Bob asked sarcastically. He knew better. He knew that Jake spent all his days off holed up in the hotel, usually watching old films alone. "Maybe I prefer other company that isn't in Toronto." The coldness of his expression and still voice told Bob not to push it further. They still had some important scenes to finish and he could not afford to have his lead actor blow things. "Shall we?" he asked rhetorically, gesturing to Nick to begin. The tension added an unexpected element to the reading. Neither Nick nor Jake said anything directly to one another. They poured it all into their acting. They *became* the characters. At the end of the scene, Bob set the script on the table and applauded. "Do that with the cameras rolling and we'll have a winner." "Are we done?" Jake demanded. "Do you have anything to add?" "No, it'll be fine." "I have your word?" Bob pressed. "Yes," he said briefly. "Good. We'll meet after lunch on the set. We'll shoot first thing Monday morning." He turned to Nick while Jake quickly left the room. "I assume the makeup people have fitted you." "Fitted me?" he asked, thinking through the scene they'd just read. To his recollection, no special costuming was required. "You know. Fangs." "Oh," Nick said sheepishly. "Forgot about that." "Find them this afternoon then. You'll need your mouthpiece and contacts next week. I think there are four different scenes left to film with you as a vampire. Since you came on board mid-shoot, I wasn't sure they'd remembered." "I'll take care of it," Nick promised. He would go through the motions but cringed at the thought of actually having to wear a prosthetic over his fangs. The fangs that Jake had worn in their earlier scene were too real looking for Nick's tastes. He had hoped that the effects people would have developed off color or overly large fangs. If the fangs looked too real, would the Enforcers be paying him a visit? **** The fitting went better than Nick had hoped. His fangs were exquisitely sensitive and the mere idea that someone would be touching them was enough to send him running far away. Knowing that there were scenes where he'd be seen as a vampire, he'd long wondered when they would be filming them. More importantly, he'd wondered how he would mesh reality with fiction. For a change, Jake was waiting on the set when Nick arrived after the lunch break. This particular scene was the prelude to the fight they had already filmed. It was a fight concluding with Sir Robert's death and rebirth as a vampire. In this scene, Sir Robert would reveal to his sister that her intended fiancé was a vampire. It was for that reason that he forbad the marriage. Drawing on his own memories of his sister, and how he'd felt when she had become enamored with LaCroix, he poured the emotion into the scene. He was saying all the things that he'd wished he's said to Fleur. In reality, things had happened too quickly. He had come upon his sire in the garden, poised to take her. His argument was swift and in the end, he'd lulled her to sleep with his new-found vampiric powers. The bargaining chip in this case was some unnamed future mortal love. At the time, he'd doubted he would ever find such a woman. Matters of the heart were of little consequence to a man who'd devoted his life to service of others. Eight centuries later, the bargain had a name, a face and a fear. Natalie. How safe was she? Not just from his urges and desires as a vampire, but from the others. One vampire in particular instilled fear in him like no other. Janette's suspicions about their sire were too accurate for his tastes. He knew she was right. He'd not felt his connection to LaCroix severed. Yes, he'd seen the ancient vampire burn, but was he really gone? If he wasn't, when would he reappear? If Nick continued to intensify his relationship with Natalie, was would LaCroix do? Would he be able to bring her across before his sire became too aware of his feelings towards her? CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE "Gentlemen, shall we begin?" Bob called out over the steady buzz of the technicians and assistants that congregated whenever filming was in progress. Having trained in the theater, Nick was accustomed to having an audience. Indeed, he preferred the energy that came from the reactions to his work. They were well schooled enough to be quiet, but his sensitive hearing picked up reactions that the average man would not. While he'd not been in contact with his partner since their 'interview', Nick had noticed Schanke several times. Indeed, he was sure that Don had been hovering in the background during filming at least once. This was Nick's first scene to be filmed with his prosthetic fangs in place. He was thankful he'd had a weekend to get used to wearing them. He knew better than to complain to Janette. She would simply have mocked him, making some sarcastic comment about burying himself in the work to extremes. While the fangs fit adequately enough for him to talk, they were uncomfortably tight over his descended fangs. He'd allowed himself to change, in the hopes that he'd be able to skip a few steps in the makeup process. He'd succeeded in avoiding the contact lenses but not the fangs. Unfortunately, the arrival of several other actors had prevented him for hypnotizing the makeup artists in time. Nick took his place on the set, a sparsely furnished room in a castle. The simple table and chairs were not unlike what he would have had in his own estate. That is, if he'd ever had his own estate. He would be confronting his sister for the first time since his conversion. "Nick? Let me hear you for a minute," Bob instructed as Jake sauntered slowly through the crowd. He, obviously, was in no hurry. "I'm fine," Nick replied, reciting his opening line to demonstrate that the mouthpiece would not hinder his speaking voice. "Let's go." He waited for Jake to take his position on the set and for Bob to give the signal to begin. "Robert," Jake said in greeting, letting his gaze trail over Nick slowly. "You look pale. Have you fed?" "Not since..." He narrowed his eyes, his voice taking on a stern tone. "You must eat. You are too young in this life to be hungry." "I can't," Nick said softly. "Why is that?" "You know why," Nick spoke emphatically. "Ah yes, the remnants of your conscience. You are reacting to your experiences when you awoke yesterday. She was quite delicious, was she not?" He smiled at Nick's reaction. "You'll get over it soon enough." "You made me a killer," Nick exclaimed. In his mind he was remembering making a similar statement to LaCroix. "And you did not kill when you were in the Holy Land?" he questioned. "That was different." "How was it different, Robert? Tell me." He circled Nick, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. "Remember, I, too, was a soldier. I did unspeakable things on the battlefield and rationalized it as the fortunes of war." He watched as Nick turned away, staring out a window. "So tell me how providing a merciful end to a pitiful life is different from killing in the heat of battle. You can't, can you?" He gave a small, bitter laugh at Nick's continued silence. "There is no difference. Mankind is born to die. Does it really matter how? Is it better to die of a disease or some needless battle?" "Then what you're telling me is that to survive, I must kill. Is that how I'll live for eternity?" "The blood is our food, our nourishment. You have long survived on the flesh of animals. Now you drink the blood of man." "Killing an animal is not the same as killing a man," Nick commented, swinging around angrily to face Jake. "It is only because you are young and lack control that you will always take the life. With time, perhaps you will learn to take your nourishment without the death of the source." "Really? Have you?" It was not the scripted line, but it was a question that Nick had longed to ask LaCroix. Flashing a confused, then angry look while turned away from the camera, Jake continued. "Of course." Pausing for a moment, he resumed with the scripted scene. Nick could tell that this was not over but Jake was not about to ruin the scene while cameras were rolling. "Robert, I have lived this life for over a thousand years. You can't expect to have the control that I have. How long did it take you to master the art of the sword?" "I trained since my youth," Nick acknowledged. "So you see the wisdom of my words," he smiled at Nick's slow nod of agreement. "If you are incapable of identifying an appropriate source, I will assist. It is either that, or I'll bring your sister to see you." "No," Nick said quickly. "She thinks I'm near death. How would I explain?" "Simple. You chose to reveal my identity to her. I will show her what you've become. After all, she is in the chapel praying for your life. Would you not want her to know that your life has been spared?" "I don't think I could control myself around her," Nick said quietly. "Let her pray while she can." "Then you consent to our union?" "You've told me already that you have dominion over my life. In exchange for giving me eternal life, I must give you eternal loyalty. You could order me killed, or do it yourself with no argument from anyone. How can I say no to you?" "You need not fear me, Robert. As long as you are with me, I will guide and protect you. I will teach you the wisdom I've learned and together we will travel the world. Is it so bad a life?" Nick looked away. When spoken that way, it didn't sound bad. Unfortunately, he knew more than the characters. "She needs to know the whole truth. I will not order the marriage. If she wants you and this life, she may have it, but I won't tell her she must." "Fair enough. I agree." He extended his hand and they stood silently, waiting for Bob to stop the scene. With the rising buzz of background techs, getting ready for the next scene, Jake dropped Nick's hand and gazed at him intently. "What the hell was that?" "What?" "You know what I mean. I thought we weren't going to improvise any more? Are you trying to embarrass me?" "No, I'm not. I didn't make you drink my blood, did I? I only asked you a question, and you answered it without any problems." "This isn't over," he responded as he walked away swiftly, leaving Nick alone on the set. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR They had finished the last of the scenes set in the 13th century. Despite intense observation, Nick had not detected anything to justify formally investigating Jake. It was a frustration to know, yet not be able to prove it. It was a true test of his resolve. Filming was done for the day. Nick had changed out of his costume and washed off his makeup. He was simply waiting until sunset to leave for the day. They had already begun tearing down the sets, and constructing the modern day street and rooms that would serve as the backdrop for the last week of filming. The changeover meant he had an unexpected day off. Dozing with lights off, Nick was startled to hear soft footsteps and the creak of a door being eased open and then shut lightly. Someone was coming to see him. Someone who did not know who it was they were attempting to surprise. Well, this was a game that Nick was very willing to play. The lights were off but Nick had no trouble recognizing his intruder. Watching him through slit eyes, he feigned sleep. He was startled to feel a sharp stab on the side of his neck. The lights remained off but he could no longer ignore the attack. "What the hell?" Nick growled. "I told you. Don't show me up. I warned you more than once." The low, angry voice got progressively louder but remained below the level that would be heard in the commissary down the hall. At this point of the day, that would be the closest place for any other people to be. "Let me review it for you. First you spoke in fluent French when it wasn't in the script. I'm not sure what you said, but I didn't appreciate having to fake a foreign language that would be later subtitled." "I told Bob that wasn't necessary. It just happened. I reacted to what you said and forgot my line." "Sure, that's what they all say," he said bitterly. "Then let's not forget the sword fight. I heard Kevin saying you were better than he was. We'd agreed to have stunt doubles fighting." "Maybe you agreed with Marcus. That wasn't in my contract and you never said anything to me." Nick turned to face Jake, still sitting on the couch as Jake stood behind it. The room was illuminated only by a sliver of light coming from the hallway. "The ability to fence is not acting." "No? You'd think it was with all the fuss people were making." "Well it isn't." "That was strike two. Strike three was today. You almost made me blow my line. I am not very forgiving of that." "I already apologized. Besides you did fine with it." "I warned you not to upstage me. I warned Marcus too, but he didn't listen either. He was stupid enough to fight me for scenes. Scenes that were mine." "So you took care of him?" Nick commented. He could feel the burning sensation of a drug burning into his blood. It wouldn't affect him like his attacker was anticipating, but he knew it was there. "He never knew what hit him. He didn't know I was prepared. Yeah, want to rehearse that fight? Practice being killed? What a sap." He laughed cynically, studying Nick as closely as the thin light allowed. Something wasn't right. He'd injected the full syringe and then placed the catheter in the artery. At least he thought it was the artery. Had he missed? He was sure he'd hit the right spot, but he didn't understand why it wasn't working. He leaned over, a small flashlight illuminating his handiwork. "And you think I'm a sap, too?" Nick demanded, standing and facing Jake directly. The needle trailed from his neck, a bag hanging down his back, slowly filling with blood. "No, you're just too stupid for your own good. Don't know when to butt out. Don't know when to listen. In way over your head." Jake's voice remained terse as he slowly backed up as he beheld the man in front of him. The thin light of the flashlight wavering as fear began to take over. "Am I?" Nick's voice took on the low resonant tones that heralded the vampire's emergence. He had not even tried to prevent it. Shining the flashlight on Nick's face, Jake looked at him with a mix of confusion and anger. "Are you so enamored with your role that you won't take off the makeup?" "Makeup? You think I need makeup?" Nick laughed softly. Jake was still in full makeup, the fangs pressing on his upper lip. With his eyes glowing amber, Nick yanked the needle from his neck and tossed it on the couch as he walked closer to Jake who was now paralyzed in fear. "What are you?" he spoke slowly. Somehow the contacts looked different on Nick, or was it the pale light of the dressing room? "What you pretend to be. What you think is fiction," he replied sternly. "I am your worst nightmare." "Nightmare? How would you know what I think is a nightmare?" Jake asked with bravado that belied the pounding heart and sweat beaded brow. He was terrified. Somehow this didn't look like the makeup Nick had worn on the set that day. "It's quite simple, really. You told me." "When have I ever said more than 3 words to you that weren't scripted?" "I don't need words," Nick declared, baring his fangs with a low growl. "I have had your blood." He smiled at the increase in Jake's heart beat. "Didn't know what you were doing when you made me drink from you? Did you?" "N-n-no," he stammered. "When you gave me your blood, you gave me your memories. Your life. I know you better than you know yourself. I know what you did to Marcus," Nick explained, holding him with his arms held tightly behind his back, "and you are under arrest." "For what?" Jake asked with obvious confusion. Had this guy been in too many bad TV shows was all he could think. "For the murder of Marcus Wayne. For the assault of a police officer. Yes, I am a police officer. Surprised?" Focusing on Jake's rapid heartbeat, he captured his thoughts and slowly instructed him to confess to Detective Schanke and that he had only seen Nick in full makeup. Allowing the vampire to retreat, Nick kept a tight grip on Jake, pulling his handcuffs out of his jacket. Once he had the actor handcuffed to a chair, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Schanke... I need you at the studio. I have a confession that you need to hear. I'll be in my dressing room." "What are you doing?" Jake finally spoke. His mind was in a fog. "You're going to tell the detective what you just told me, remember?" "Yeah, I need to talk to the detective. I need to tell him what happened to Marcus," he recited mechanically. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Schanke arrived at the studio quickly, accompanied by several uniformed officers. He was visibly shocked to see Nick standing guard over the lead actor. "What have we here?" he finally asked. He saw the drainage bag, partially filled with blood sitting on the couch. "Got an evidence bag? It needs to go to Natalie." "What is it?" Schanke asked, watching as one of the uniformed officers handed Nick a plastic bag. "What does it look like? Salsa picante? It's blood," Nick replied with an exasperated sigh. "Mine. Jake, why don't you tell the detective what happened in here?" "I, uh, tried to kill him," he said in a low voice. "OK... I think this needs to be done in a more formal setting," Schanke breathed. "Miller, want to read him his rights and give him a lift to the station? I need to talk to my partner." As soon as the officers had taken the suspect out of the room, Schanke turned to Nick shaking his head. "You okay?" "I'm fine." "From what I see here, that guy just tried to drain you. You aren't even upset? You don't even want to see a doctor?" "Schanke, I'm doing my job. That's why they put me here. I'll have Natalie check me over." "Oh, I see," Schanke grinned. "Playing doctor?" "It isn't what your very fertile imagination is cooking up, okay?" "Sure, whatever you say. You, uh, coming too? You want to join my in the grilling chamber?" "We better check with Stonetree. Since he attacked me, I think the Crown won't accept me interrogating him." "Oh, yeah, sure." He glanced at Nick again. "You sure you're okay?" Before Nick had a chance to answer, the door was pushed open. "Nick? What the hell happened here?" Both men looked over and saw Bob standing at the threshold. "Allow me," Schanke commented. "Bob, I'd like to introduce my friend and partner, Nick Knight." "You? You're a cop?" Bob asked with visible shock." "Yes," Nick confirmed. "I'm an undercover cop. I was assigned here to find who killed Marcus." "I think you can take it from here," Schanke commented. "I'll see you back at the shop." "Paul and Mike knew about this?" Bob asked, ignoring Schanke's departure. "They met me at the station before I came to audition." "Why didn't they tell me?" "I was told you knew the department had someone on the set," Nick commented. Seeing Bob's nod, he continued. "Would you have put me in that role if you knew I was a cop, not an actor?" "Probably not," he agreed. "I guess I'm glad I didn't know." After a momentary pause, he looked at Nick. "So what happened here?" "He attacked me and then confessed to killing Marcus." "How?" he asked, visibly paling at the thought. "Right now that is police business. Suffice to say, he won't be filming any more scenes." "What happens to the project?" "That's up to you and the producers. I'm no expert but I hope you have enough to finish it." "So you can see your name in print?" "That isn't the reason I was thinking of. I wouldn't want the work that you and all of the other people on this project to be wasted. Besides, it won't be my name. I used a different name when I took this assignment." "Sure you don't want to have your real name on the project?" "I'm sure. I took this project as Nick Hubbard. That's the name that will appear in the credits." He stood, picking up his dufflebag. "I need to go to the station and make an official statement. I'll be in touch." ***** Nick walked into the precinct with a lighter step then when last he'd been there. He could not help smiling as he officially signed in at the desk and went to his desk. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to find it with the piles of papers that he was sure would have found its way to his 'in' box over the six weeks he'd been undercover. "Knight?" Stonetree leaned out of the office and gestured to Nick. Following the captain into the office and sitting down while Joe took his seat at the desk, he waited for the captain to brief him on what was next. "That was outstanding, Nick." "Thanks, Cap." "Have you had a doctor check you out? I hear there was quite a bit of blood in that bag we sent to the lab." "I feel fine," he began. Seeing the concerned look on Joe's face, he smiled, "You know how I feel about doctors." "Do I need to order you to go to the ER?" "No, sir. I'll have Natalie run a hemoglobin on me. Satisfied?" "Not my idea of good medical care," he sighed. "But you're the one that has a coroner doing your physicals. I guess she knows you better than anyone else." He flipped open a folder and gestured to the handwritten form. "I read the preliminary statement the officers made. I agree with you. There's no way I can allow you to do the interrogation of Mr. Marckel. It wouldn't even take a good attorney to get it thrown out." "I figured as much. Schanke will be fine." "I just got off the phone with the producers. They want to talk to you tomorrow about finishing the movie." "You aren't seriously thinking of letting Jake out, are you?" "No, no. They're coming up with a plan that only involves you. I told them I wouldn't expect you back on duty for another two weeks. Finish your movie, take some time to yourself. You deserve it." "Ah, well, thanks Joe," Nick stammered. "Sure about that?" "Might as well make your last undercover assignment memorable." "Wait, *last* undercover assignment?" "At least for a while," he commented. "Anything you do undercover for the next couple of years will be in the persona of the actor. Unless you want to dye your hair or something. I've asked the producers not to say anything to the media about how the arrest happened, or who the undercover detective was, but word will get out." "You're right there. I didn't realize how many people it took to make a movie." He shook his head remembering the crowds that circulated the set every day. "Write up your statement, have Natalie check you out and then take off. The mail will still be on your desk in a couple of weeks." "Will do," Nick nodded. ***** Natalie was in the middle of a case when Nick arrived in the lab. Seeing him enter the room, she very quickly flipped off the tape and pulled off her gloves. "Congratulations," she smiled, giving him a light hug. Sitting on the edge of her desk, she watched him pace the room. "You did it the mortal way." "Thanks," he said hesitantly, shaking his head. "I'm not sure I would call it a mortal way." "You want to explain?" "Nat, if I was mortal, I would have died. Just like Marcus." He gestured to the body on her table. It wasn't Marcus, but they both remembered the actor's body lying on that very table, just as Nick had three years earlier. Nick had walked off, Marcus had not. "I know. I got the present from the officers." She gestured to the evidence bag that sat on her lab bench. "Then how do you figure that I solved this in a 'mortal way'?" "You've known that he was the killer and didn't act on it. Didn't even tell anyone you were suspicious. Doesn't that count?" "That could also be considered toying with him." "Toying with him?" Natalie questioned. "Playing with my prey, you know... toying with him." His pacing had taken on the silent, stealthy creep that mimicked stalking his prey. She rolled her eyes. Only he could take the resolution of a case and turn it into a time to angst. She saw how quickly his behavior changed to the vampiric habits. "I know you, Nick. That is not what you were doing." "I'm glad you believe in me." "You should believe in yourself as well," she said softly. "I'm working on it," he said with a shrug. "Anyway, about the blood. You'll take care of it?" "Yes, I'll take care of it." She looked at him curiously. Extracting blood from him was a challenge. When the officers had first handed her the bag, she doubted it was Nick's. She'd not had the chance to fully analyze it, and prove that it *was* his. "You want to tell me how he got that much blood out of you?" "He injected me with some drug first and then put a large bore IV catheter in the carotid artery. Can't help it that my blood drains slower than mortals." "Ingenious," she commented. She had not thought of that method but had been challenged in her many efforts to obtain blood samples to test. Nick's blood did not drain as quickly, nor were the vessels as easy to hit as with a mortal man. To have actually catheterized the carotid artery without a pulse to guide you took skill. It was enough to make her curious how an actor would have developed such skill. "So I was right. Marcus died from a intravenous device." "The injections were spaced so that it looked like fang marks," he mused. "You didn't find drugs in Marcus's system?" "There was so little blood that I couldn't test it. I suppose I could run a toxicology screen off the tissue samples I still have." "Might be the icing on the cake to put him away." "Not that you need it," she said. "Assaulting a cop and a confession are pretty convincing evidence." "A good lawyer could get that thrown out, claiming I tried to frame him." "Nick, will you just allow me to complement you on a job well done?" she pleaded. She knew he was right, but hated to see him continue to downplay his success. "You may complement me whenever you wish. My point is that it never hurts to have more evidence." "I guess," she commented doubtfully. "I'll get on it." She unlocked a small refrigerator and fished around until she found the box she sought. "I still have the tissue slides here. Might be difficult to find anything, but I'll see what I can see." She set the box on her lab bench and turned to face him. "I need to finish this autopsy and then I'll work on your projects. Are you going back on duty?" "Yes and no. I've broken cover but they want me to finish the movie. Stonetree gave me two weeks to finish filming whatever they come up with to end the movie. I sort of screwed up the original plan by arresting the lead actor." "I'll call you when I know more," she promised. CHAPTER TWENTY- SIX The news that the secondary lead was in fact, an uncover cop was the buzz of the studio. That their lead actor had killed a co-star threw the cast in turmoil. Continuing to film the remaining scenes was impossible. "What will you do?" Nick asked, glancing around the table. "I think we have enough to put together a good film. It isn't what we'd originally intended, but I think we can still do it," Bob stated simply, glancing between the two producers for confirmation. "We'll use the Crusades scenes we'd filmed with Marcus. With some creative editing, it won't be as obvious that it isn't you. If you're available, we might be able to do some effects shots to edit you in. The theme will be what led both men to that point in time." Mike explained. "It'll still end with a present day scene that will tie to the opening that Jake had already filmed. The epilogue scene will tie it together." "You want me for that?" Nick asked. "If you don't mind," Mike began. "I know that your job with us is done, but..." "My captain has authorized me to finish the project," Nick agreed. "I'd be happy to do it. I'm not sure I saw the dialogue for the opening." "We can run the footage for you," Bob offered. "I'll have the pages to you by tomorrow. It will be a fairly simple scene." "No problem." "If you ever want to hang up the badge, I can make some introductions for you," Bob commented. "You were a pleasure to work with. A true professional." "Thanks, but I'm happy being a cop," Nick stood, and shook each man's hand in turn. "Ending the project like this is unusual to say the least," Mike commented. "But we are planning a wrap party next Saturday. I hope you can come, and bring your girlfriend." "I'll think about it," Nick agreed. ****** "So you have solved your little adventure?" Janette asked softly, watching the crowd dancing to the pounding beat. Nick had come to her unannounced to proclaim his success. "In more ways than one," he nodded, keeping his gaze on the dance floor. While he felt a need to talk to her, he didn't want to fall into her seductive charms. "What does that mean?" "Yes, we found the killer." He took a sip from the bloodwine that she'd placed in front of him. To his surprise, it was not human blood that she'd mixed with the burgundy. She'd not made any disparaging comments either. "I also thought about things that I haven't thought about for years." "If ever," she interjected. "You've fought this life, sought to change and I doubt you've even known why." She watched his expression and saw his silent agreement. "So what will you do now?" "What?" "Are you still seeking mortality?" "I don't know," he acknowledged. "Hmm, well, at least that is an honest response." She looked around the club, surveying the masses once again. "I would think that you would be out celebrating your success with you partner." "He's out with his wife," Nick shrugged. That it was Nick's idea wasn't something he was going to bring up. "Of course," she smiled slyly. "What about your other friend? Has she not played a part in this little mystery?" "She's taking care of some business." "Business?" she questioned. "You speak as if this business involves you personally. Or is it really just business?" "It's a long story," he commented, draining his glass. "I have time," she replied, motioning to the bartender to refill his glass. "So do you." He glanced at her quizzically before explaining. "He tried to kill me by putting a drainage device in my carotid artery." "Oh, how delicious," she breathed. "A Nickie slurpee. Maybe I should find a straw." "Janette," he looked at her sternly. "Obviously it didn't work." "But there was a bag of your blood that some of your colleagues saw." "Actually, I let them find it. It's evidence that he attacked me. I had to have Natalie examine me as well." "I'm sure that was a truly unpleasant situation," she smiled. "It isn't the first time that she's covered for me" Nick replied calmly, ignoring the suggestive comment. "Anyway, she's in the lab verifying that the blood in the bad was mine. Then she'll destroy it." "Or use it in some experiment." "I suppose," he agreed. "Why are you so interested?" "Over the past several months, I have become acquainted with your mortal friend. She is a strong woman. She is worthy of your attentions." "So you're playing matchmaker?" "Not precisely. You found her, so I could hardly be considered a matchmaker. Think of me as the older sister who is here to encourage you, aid and support you." "Uh huh," he said, his hesitation obvious. Janette seldom did anything for anyone else without some ulterior motive. "You don't trust me, mon frere?" "Let's just say that our history has been difficult to say the least." "I'll say it plainly then. You have feelings for Natalie. She has feelings for you. You are afraid to do anything about it." "That much is true. So what are you thinking?" "Since we have been in closer contact recently, I have a clearer sense of you." "And?" he prompted. "If you would like to pursue this relationship further, I can assist you. I can protect her, by sensing you. If you are losing control, I can prevent you from harming her." "How?" he questioned. "You doubt my strength?" she asked mockingly. She gestured to their drinks before continuing. "Unlike you, I consume a complete diet. I am at full strength for one my age. You are not." "So you'd hide out in the loft?" "If that is what you wish," she nodded. "I am offering this for your happiness, and hers." For so long, Nick had simply convinced himself that pursuing an intimate relationship with Natalie was a physical impossibility. He had never imagined this as an option. He finally met her calm steady gaze and took her hand. "I'll let you know. This would be Natalie's decision as well. I won't do anything that she is not willing to do." "I would expect no less," she smiled. "I believe you know how to contact me." He paused for a moment, seeing that he was not leaving. "Was there anything else?" "I was thinking," he said hesitantly. "Yes, go on." "Do you think I should tell the ancient about the case's resolution?" "It might not be a bad idea," she mused. "It would show that you would not neglect your duties to the community. I will contact her. Come back tomorrow night. I am sure it would not take her long to get here." ******* Nick felt her presence as soon as he pushed open the door of the Raven the next night. Much as he had seen the previous time, the dance floor was half empty. Few of the younger vampires that frequented the club had any desire to be noticed by an ancient. "I know, Janette, she's in the office. I promise to make this quick," he said in greeting as he passed Janette at the bar. He strode confidently past her to the private areas. Knocking politely on the heavy oak door, he waited for the commanding voice to invite him inside. "Nicholas, a pleasure to hear from you. I had hoped you would apprise me of the situation," she said smoothly, gesturing to the chair opposite hers. Taking the seat, Nick waiting for her nod to begin speaking. "I thought you would be interested in the resolution of the case. As you suspected earlier, it was a mortal man responsible for the murder. I believe he was using the fact that he was on the set of this particular murder to hide his method." "You know what this method was? Just how did he create the illusion of fang marks?" "They are needle marks, much as the M.E. suspected, spaced to appear as if they are the bite of the vampire. One injection was to administer a powerful sedative that would render a human unconscious. The other needle was to place a large catheter in the carotid artery. The average human would very quickly bleed to death but the blood was contained in a drainage device that the attacker would take with him, so there would be no evidence." "Interesting," she said thoughtfully. "How did you determine this in such detail?" "He tried to do it to me," Nick explained. She smiled uncontrollably. It was the first time that Nick had seen her with any expression besides stern determination. "You must be very good maintaining the illusion of humanity." "I've had lots of practice," he said, maintaining his calm expression. "Before you worry about it, he thinks he hit the wrong blood vessel." "Of course," she nodded. "I would expect nothing less. I assume that you completed this little project successfully." "I have a few scenes left to film but the majority is finished. I have been told to expect some time for editing. The movie is supposed to air in November." "I look forward to seeing it," she commented, pausing to study him more intently. "I sense a difference in your aura, as if your spirit is more at peace." "I've had a lot of time to think about how and why I got to where I am today." "You have accepted the decisions that you made eight centuries ago?" "In some ways I understand what led me to the choice better. I'm not sure what impact that will have on my future decisions and plans." "Reasonable. That is as much as I could ask at this point in time." She stood, holding a hand out to him. "I trust that you will not hesitate to inform me of any future developments." "Of course," he agreed. ***** "Has Nicholas left the club for the evening?" "He went to see his coroner friend," Janette explained. "I trust your conversation went well." "It did. You have done well here. I sense a peace within him." "Perhaps it is a temporary illusion but yes, he does seem to have accepted the decision and is going on with his life." "So he is no longer seeking mortality?" "I cannot guarantee that, but I don't think so. He will, most likely continue to live within the mortal world, and develop friendships with mortals." "Will he take a mortal lover?" "I... I don't know." "Don't you? Janette, don't try to deceive me. Answer the question." She sighed and looked away. "He hasn't yet, but he might." "The coroner?" "Yes," Janette confirmed. "He has not had much success in this area, so he hesitates." "Wise thinking," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps now is the right time for him to realize that it is only by accepting the vampire within him will it be possible for him to have a mortal lover." She paused for a moment, draining the ever-present goblet. "We will allow this relationship to continue. It will be to our benefit for this coroner to have forged a bond with Nicholas." CHAPTER TWENTY- SEVEN The caterers had finished setting up the buffet table. The food was carefully packed in the refrigerator with labels for final preparation. The bar was set up and stocked. All that remained was the arrival of the waiters. That would not happen until midway through the movie. By the time the guests were leaving the theater to be whisked by limousine to the loft, all would be ready. He had endured the cast parties and hoopla that went with the premiere and had even enjoyed it. This party, though, was for the colleagues and friends that were so important to him in real life. It had been years, if not centuries since Nick had been a host. He was determined to make the most of it. He'd planned the event in great detail. Not only would it be the first time he had his colleagues over to his home, it would also be the first time he allowed his relationship with Natalie to be noticed publicly. There wouldn't be any grand announcement. That simply wasn't his style, nor hers. Over the months since he had completed filming the movie, he'd had numerous discussions with her. Slowly, carefully, they were proceeding with, as she called it, 'being a couple'. The sound of the elevator's motors powering up made Nick pause on his way upstairs to shower and change into his tuxedo. Only one person simply dropped in unannounced like that. "Hey, Nat," he greeted her as soon as the door slid open. "How?" she began. Seeing his 'little boy grin', she laughed, and waved her arms. "Never mind." "Nothing mystical here, Nat," he said, drawing her close. "You're the only person who knows my security codes." "Really? Not even Schanke?" "That shouldn't come as a big surprise," he commented. "You know more than he does." "True," she agreed. She'd never thought of it in that way. It suddenly made sense why Don made such a fuss about her knowing the codes. "Are you ready for tonight?" "Almost. I need to make myself fit to be seen with you but the loft is ready." He stepped back, taking another admiring glance at her sleek midnight blue silk dress. He recognized the design as one of Janette's personal friends in Paris and was not surprised. Of course, Natalie would seek Janette's fashion advice for an event like this. "I see you have actual edible items here," she observed, trying not to blush under his intense scrutiny. "I wasn't about to invite people over without changing the contents of my refrigerator. Of course I have things to eat." "That's a first," she teased. "What? That I invite people over, or that I have food?" "Both, I guess." She gestured to the buffet table that occupied the corner that previously held his art supplies. "What did you do to the studio?" "I moved it upstairs," he explained, pointing to a door at the other end of the catwalk from his room. She did not remember ever seeing that door before. "I'm working on finishing the upper level." "Oh, really? Why?" "It'll give me a guest room for one thing." That was not what she was expecting to hear. Her heart pounding with the unexpected prospects, her eyes locked on his. "What are your intentions, Nick?" "I think you can figure that out," he said gently, wrapping an arm around her. "I've spent too much time hiding my feelings from you, from our friends. No more. If I've learned anything from the past few months, it's been the foolishness of living in the past." "So you're ready to move on with your life?" "In a way. Not in the way I usually use that term. No, I'm not leaving Toronto, or leaving you. By accepting myself, as I am, I am ready to share myself with you, with others." "I'm proud of you." "To answer your original question though, the room is for you, so you won't need to use the couch." He kissed her forehead lightly. "Sharing my bedroom is more dangerous than you realize, and I want you to have another option." "Nick, I've already told you that physical intimacy is not a high priority for me," she declared, pulling away slightly. "I know," he acknowledged, stepping away and glancing at the clock. "I respect that and that is why I wanted you to have space here." Hearing the chime of the clock, he stepped away. "The limo will be here in an hour. I need to change clothes." **** A waft of tempting aromas filled the air as Nick led the way to his loft apartment. Four limousines had brought his guests from the theater and formed a line of elegance out of context with the industrial neighborhood. For many of his fellow officers, it was their first experience with that luxurious form of transportation. Three waiters in formal attire were standing at the elevator door, one with a tray of champagne. The other two men gathered coats and pointed out the buffet table. Schanke was the only detective to have ever been to Nick's apartment before, and even he was suitably impressed, if not skeptical about the lavish party. "I thought you donated your movie pay to charity," he commented in a low voice. "I did," Nick acknowledged. "Don't worry, Don. I can afford to celebrate. I got a bonus for finishing the movie. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it." "OK," he said slowly. "Must have been a heck of a bonus. I've never seen this much food in your place." "That's the same thing Natalie said." "Well, it's true," he protested, draining his champagne in one long draught. "I think I'm going to check out your gourmet tastes." He took a step and then stopped, seeing Natalie coming down the stairs. She had been showing Myra and several other wives where the bathroom was. No one questioned the fact that Natalie seemed so very comfortable in Nick's home. "Although I think it's really Natalie's tastes that we will be seeing. Am I right?" "Yes, Nat picked out the menus. I selected the wines. Satisfied?" "I'll be satisfied when I see rings on both of your fingers, my friend. Unlike the character you played in the movie, you are not immortal. Life is too short to keep denying yourself." "I hear you," Nick replied. He breathed a sigh of relief when Schanke gave a wave to his wife and headed over to the buffet. He was content to mingle with the other detectives and swap memories of undercover assignments. “Knight, was that really you swinging that sword?” Nick turned to see Captain Stonetree next to him. “Yes, that was me. Surprised?” “Not really.” He shook his head, smiling. “You have a habit of not telling people all of your talents. Somehow letting us find it out for ourself must be more fun.” “I just don’t feel the need to brag,” he replied. “I didn’t see how the ability to fence would help my police resume.” “Ah, but you lost the fight, didn’t you?” teased one of the detectives. “That was scripted. You ever see me *really* lose a fight?” That got a laugh from both men. They knew that Nick wasn’t known as the ‘Knightmare’ just for fun. Standing on the catwalk, observing the activity below, Natalie had finished yet another 'tour'. It was incongruous to her that Nick was stationed in the kitchen socializing while she was taking various guests around the loft. She had not realized how that looked until Grace followed her to the catwalk. "How is it that you know Nick's place so well?" she teased. It truly came as no surprise to her but it led her to think that there was more going on than either one stated publicly. Maybe all they needed was a little push. "I've been over here before," she shrugged. "Oh, really? You’ve been here more than once, if I’d have to guess. What do you do when you're over here?" "Watch videos, eat, talk," she replied, turning away to see if Nick was still in the kitchen. "Is that all?" "Yes," Natalie said firmly. "Grace, I promise. If there is ever more to tell, I'll tell you. Please don't push." "OK, sure," she responded, curious at the tone of voice. If she read her friend correctly, things were progressing, albeit slowly. “Have you eaten yet? I’m going to check out the desserts. I’ve been waiting all week for this Chocolate Amaretto mousse. It was highly recommended.” “Let me guess, you picked out the desserts,” she teased. “Absolutely. You think I was going to let Nick pick out the chocolate?” “Not the connoisseur?” She laughed at the idea of Nick being expert on anything edible. “He knows wine, but no. Nick does not appreciate a fine chocolate as much as I.” With a wave, she descended into the living room and made her way to the buffet. The loft usually felt so spacious, but with forty people mingling in various corners, it had filled up quickly. As she crossed the room, it seemed that every other person wanted to talk to her. To her surprise, Nick was standing by the desserts, as if waiting for her. He held a flute of champagne in one hand as he locked eyes with her. Taking the drink from him, she slid her other hand in his. “Thanks,” she said glancing over the glass goblets with their luscious contents. In addition to the chocolate mousse, there were parfaits of white and dark chocolate topped with raspberries and a variety of cheesecakes. Everything that a chocolate lover could want. “You’ve been very patient,” he observed. “It’s been two hours, and you haven’t been over to the chocolate once.” “I’m being good,” she commented, reaching over to take one of the dishes of mousse. She looked up to meet his steady gaze. “Are *you* being good?” she asked with obvious meaning. She hadn’t seen him sneaking out to add to his drink, or taking anything other than the red wine that the waiters were carrying. “Yes, I’m being good,” he nodded, patting his pocket. He’d hidden a small flask of blood in case he started weakening. He’d feared that seeing the finished film on the large screen would be more than he could control. “I fed before you came over and I’ve been fine.” She glanced around the room, savoring the chocolate dessert. She could hear snippets of conversation and realized the room was too crowded to comment further. “Did the movie turn out as you’d hoped?” she asked, changing the topic to something safer. “I didn’t have any preconceived ideas,” he replied, picking up his wine glass. He had very quickly picked up on her tactic. Perhaps they needed a bit more privacy to talk. Stepping away from the table, he led her away from the main part of the party. “Did you like it?” she pressed as they slowly walked toward the kitchen where she set the now empty dessert glass on the counter. Oblivious to the passing glances they were getting from some of the other guests, she leaned closer to him as they talked. “Yes, I did. I think they did a good job getting the theme to come through. The vampire parts were done better than most film versions.” “You ready for the attention this is going to give you?” “I’ll only get attention if I allow it to happen,” he said mildly. “I won’t.” “You seemed to be enjoying the cast party and walking down the red carpet tonight,” she observed. “Just because I enjoyed seeing the other people involved in the project doesn’t mean I want to do this again. Not all of them were like Jake.” “That’s a relief” she shuddered at the memory of the angry glares the actor had sent her way every time she sat in the Court room. They had relived the events just the month before, when Jake had been tried. The trial had been quicker than either had anticipated and with far less hoopla than high profile cases in the U.S. The fact that Jake had accepted a plea bargain meant that the trial was mercifully simple. “There was one benefit to doing this assignment that I don’t regret,” he commented, wrapping his arms around her. “And what is that?” she asked, molding herself against him, her arms clasped behind his neck. “It forced me to think, and for the first time in 8 centuries, I have accepted who I am, how I got to where I am today and have hope for the future.” “Really?” she whispered, their lips touching lightly. His hand twined into her auburn curls, pulling her closer and he kissed her lightly. “Yes, I know that we can be together,” he murmured, deepening their kiss. Standing next to the large television, Schanke and several detectives had begun an intense debate regarding the upcoming hockey season. He looked up just in time to see his partner’s activities. Not wanting to break the mood, he simply watched as Nick gave Natalie a kiss that was anything but platonic. Excusing himself from the conversation, he walked over to the pair and tapped Nick on the shoulder. Breaking away from Natalie, Nick turned to see his partner’s grinning face. “Just friends? If that’s how you treat friends…” Staying within Nick’s embrace, Natalie flushed with embarrassment but had the composure to reply first. She had felt Nick’s fangs lengthen with the intensity of their kiss and knew that he would need a moment. “Don, perhaps we are just a little more than friends.” “I *knew* it,” he crowed with delight. “Took you long enough.” “Well, perhaps I’ve learned to be cautious,” Nick replied, kissing Natalie lightly on the forehead. His eyes focused only on her, he spoke softly, “I’ve made mistakes in the past, done things that I’m not proud of. Natalie knows and accepts me for who I am. Acting in this movie helped me realize that I’ve been dwelling on the past for too long. Natalie is helping me look to the future.” “Well, whatever it took, I’m glad to see you finally admit it.” He took a step backwards, glancing between the two. “Just let me know when to set up the bachelor party.” He looked around the room, gesturing to the guests, most of whom had been quietly observing their host. “You want all of us to, uh, leave you two alone?” “We aren’t teenagers, Schanke,” Natalie protested. “No, you are both adults who love one another. You deserve some happiness.” He waited as Myra came across the room and took his hand. “Take it from an old married man. Don’t let time catch up with you. No one lives forever. Life is too short to waste it waiting.” “I hear you,” Nick acknowledged. “That is the best advice you’ve ever given me.” He gestured to the waiters to circulate with the trays of champagne. Lifting his glass he glanced around the room before speaking. “To the future.” It was well into the wee hours of the morning before all of the guests had been driven home. The party had been declared a great success by one and all. The waiters had carefully packaged the leftovers and cleaned up the buffet area while Nick and Natalie continued to socialize. Nick had gone down to escort Schanke and Myra to the limosene that would take them home. Taking her wine glass to the living room, Natalie reached under the couch for the slim plastic case that she’d hidden there. It was time for her to do something she’d thought about for the past six months. She took out the packaged needle and attached a syringe. Cleansing the crook of her elbow, she punctured the vein quickly and filled the syringe. Holding a small gauze square over the puncture site, she took the needle into the kitchen and dropped it into one of the empty wine bottles. She took a clean goblet off the shelf and squirted the blood into it. Filling the glass with wine, she stirred it before going back to the couch as she heard the elevator’s motor. Nick sniffed as he entered the room. His eyes flared amber and then as quickly went to their normal blue. “Nat?” he questioned. “I’m over here,” she said. “I think I need a drink,” he commented, accepting the glass that she thrust into his hand. He realized as soon as he took his first swallow that he should have know that she was planning something. She never simply handed him bloodwine… even when it was cow. It hit him immediately. Her love filled him, surrounded him with warmth. His eyes met hers as his brought the glass to his mouth and savored every drop. Leaning back into the cushions of the couch, he reached for her. She settled against his chest wordlessly. “That was dangerous, Nat,” he said softly, running his hand through her hair. She took his other hand and held it tightly. “We’ve talked about this for months. It’s what we both want. I’m not afraid of you.” “Maybe you should be,” he cautioned. “I don’t know how this will affect me.” “You’ve said yourself that you wanted to taste me. Janette has told me that the sharing of blood is sexual. You can’t tell me that most of our friends don’t think our relationship is platonic. I’m sure Schanke is dreaming up some erotic fantasy that he’s assigned to us. I knew we can’t do all that, but maybe I’m ready to consummate our relationship in this one way.” “To really do that, we aren’t done,” he said seriously, pulling their clasped hands to his mouth. Kissing her hand, and each finger one by one, he spoke softly. “Do you really, truly want to commit yourself to me?” She saw the faint flecks of amber in his eyes, felt the nervousness as he waited for her answer. “Yes,” she said simply. Not taking his eyes off her, he allowed his fangs to descend, his eyes fully amber. He uncuffed his sleeve and pushed it up, and brought his wrist to his mouth. Slicing a long incision, he sucked on the wound to bring the blood to the surface. Allowing the blood to flow, he took her wrist and kissed it, waiting for any hesitation on her part, any sign of reluctance. “Do it,” she commanded, gasping as she felt his fangs slice across her skin. The blood welled to the surface quickly. He pressed the wound against his. The blood flowed between them, mingling their thoughts, emotions as the blood swirled. She saw his memories, his hopes and dreams. She knew of his despair and his joy. The emotions were overwhelming as she felt filled with the depth of his love. Catching her breath, she looked at him, her eyes shining. “This movie, it wasn’t just acting to you, was it?” “It was my life,” he agreed, separating their arms reluctantly. He saw that her wound had already sealed, and was barely visible. “It was my past. I meant what I said earlier. You are my future. I want to build a life with you.” She studied her wrist, seeing no evidence of the recent wound. It still tingled from the contact and she felt bathed in warmth, cherished. “Nick?” she questioned. “You’re starting to feel the bond,” he explained. “Bond?” “We are bonded by our blood. Maybe I should have explained it to you, but when I shared myself with you, I forged a bond with you that we will carry together for the rest of our lives. That is why I’ve been reluctant to do this but when you gave me your blood, I saw that you were ready. You might not have known what was involved in a relationship with a vampire, but you weren’t afraid to take that step.” “Then, in your eyes, we are married?” “It’s deeper than that. We are a part of each other. If you were to go into the Raven now, you will be safe. The others will feel my presence in you and they will leave you alone.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his chest. “Do I want to marry you? With all my heart, I want you with me every day.” “That’s the real reason you’re adding a room for me,” she smiled. It was as if she could read his thoughts and emotions. It was strangely erotic to feel him so intensely. “It will fade somewhat,” he explained, feeling her confusion at the sudden influx of his emotional responses. “Our bond is particularly strong right now because we just shared blood.” “Will we share again?” she asked shyly. “I hope so,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Nat, you didn’t answer the question. Will you marry me?” “Yes,” she replied, reaching up to caress his cheeks as he drew closer to kiss her. “I will marry you. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I know I want to share it with you.” From far above, two figures hovered by the skylight, observing all that had transpired. “So, he has finally done it.” “I knew he would not be able to hold out forever,” Janette commented. “She will be an asset to the community,” the ancient vampire found it difficult to hide her happiness. “It looked to me like she initiated their bonding, not the other way around.” “Doesn’t surprise me. She has always been more willing to learn of us than he was to reveal.” “Then perhaps one day her transformation will be complete. On that occasion, I want you to make sure she is properly welcomed.” “Of course,” Janette agreed. “You are leaving?” “My task here is complete. With his new mate at his side, he will not stray. She will not let him do foolish things.” “No, she won’t,” Janette agreed. She could feel the hum of contentment from her immortal sibling and the thinnest, most fragile of joy from Natalie. This was but the beginning. ***fin****