Episode 106: Filial Bonds--a Forever Knight story By April French Characters: Nick, Nat, and others Author's Note: This episode deals with the marriage of Detective Nicholas B. Knight and Dr. Natalie Lambert. And I have only one thing to say: It's about bloody d*mn time!!!!! There are too many characters to name in this one, so anybody you don't recognize belongs to me. Everyone else belongs to the Forever Knight PTBs. Once finished, this story will be archived at my site, http://www.geocities.com/runeshard/fkficindex.html along with all the others. Praise, comments, criticisms and kudos will be rewarded with party favors and your choice of the bouquet or the garter. Anyone who flames me will be forever doomed to be a bridesmaid (or an usher) and never a bride (or a groom). Permission to archive is given to the FKFIC2 site and the FTP site. Anyone else must first bribe me with big gold ankhs and gold-and-garnet Jerusalem crosses. ~~~ Filial Bonds (1/?) Toronto: September, 1997 In the Captain's office of the 96th police precinct, an argument was taking place. Well, not an argument, not exactly. More like a civilized but very heated discussion. So heated, in fact, that Nick Knight was debating loosening his collar. He ruffled his loose blond curls in patient annoyance. "It's my wedding," he pointed out, very calmly and logically, for the twenty-second time. "And I have every right to invite whomever I--" "Yes, Nick, but for God's sake! The man's a criminal!" "So say you." "But you can't prove anything; you can't even come up with any crimes to charge him with. There's also that little matter of him being my father." "And that's another thing!" Reese thundered, thrusting a meaty finger into Nick's face. "You've got a father who's potentially one of the most dangerous men in the city, a step-mother who's young enough to be your sister, and two brothers--" "Half-brothers." "--who could be your own kids! Is this really someone you want to invite to your wedding? If I were you, I wouldn't want him within fifty feet of my wife--" "Cap'n, will you please stop maligning my guest-list?" Nick spread his hands wide, in a pacifying gesture. "You want to know why I didn't tell you that LaCroix is my father? Because for a very long time, it wasn't something I wanted to think about." "Because for a long time he and I didn't get along." "Because it was nobody's business but mine, and because I knew you'd react like this!" Nick thought approvingly. He and LaCroix and Janette had spent the last part of August and the better part of September rearranging their public files to compensate for their recent personal earthquakes. He ticked off the bombshells on a set of mental fingers. >From the authority and comparative safety of his chair, Captain Joe Reese eyed his star detective with a pair of dubious eyes. Nick returned the look politely but stonily. Reese could almost see the phrase "I dare you" flit across Nick's face. He sighed begrudgingly. "It's your wedding," he conceded. "He's your father. He deserves more consideration than I do; after all, I'm just your Captain." Nick chose to ignore that last remark. "So you'll still come?" "Yeah, I'll come. Just because we're in the same room doesn't mean I have to pal around with the guy." Nick bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning. "Just tell me he's not your best man." Nick's grin faded a bit. *** "Ding dong, ding dong, wedding bells on a September evening. Good e'en, gentle listeners, this is the Nightcrawler, telling one and all to make new plans for tomorrow night because I will not be here." LaCroix caught sight of Nick through the glass and gave a vicious grin. "Marriage must be in the air this year. First the father, now the son. Best be careful, Nicholas. The old ball and chain have been known to be fatal." He turned off the microphone, allowing Nick to enter the booth. "As an annoying old man once said to me, 'Now that I've seen the cure, I'd rather have the disease.'" "One of your dead philosopher friends?" Nick stared balefully at his master. "Oh, Nicholas, where's your sense of humor? Besides, I never said that." "Well, you said something like it. I just made it fit." "You're twisting my words to serve your own needs. Nicholas, I'm proud of you!" LaCroix clapped Nick on the shoulder. "You're taking some of my lessons to heart, at least." Nick scowled. "You have a big day next week. Shouldn't you be off dry-cleaning your tuxedo or putting frosting on the cake or something?" "I need to know, LaCroix. Or should I look somewhere else?" LaCroix turned disinterestedly back to his equipment. "I'll be there. In my official capacity." A little disappointed, Nick turned to go. "Nicholas?" Nick flinched, but he caught the little leather bag LaCroix tossed him. "An early wedding present." Nick fiddled with the laces on the bag, and pulled out a solid gold ankh. He frowned, tracing the loop with one finger. There was a small, pure blood ruby embedded in the metal, just where the loop met the crossbar. He turned it over, and saw the word engraved on the back of the crossbar. 'Forever' "You just don't give up, do you?" LaCroix leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, with an expression on his face like a contented cat. "Pick any period in history, mon fils. If I had ever 'given up' on you, where would you be right now?" Involuntarily, Nick's fist clenched around the ancient Egyptian symbol. Filial Bonds (2/?) He showed it to Natalie when he got home. She took it carefully. "It's beautiful," she agreed, tracing the loop in the same manner as Nick had done. "Kind of an odd wedding present, though." Nick snorted softly. "Look at the back." Natalie read the word, and looked at her fiancée curiously. "It's one of the few holy symbols that has never been used against vampires." "Why?" Nick took the golden ankh and set it on the mantle, propping it next to his jade cup. "Because it's a symbol of eternal life. It's LaCroix's way of saying that no matter what you or I do, I'll always belong to him first." Wishing to forestall the dark mood threatening to overtake him, Natalie touched his shoulder but couldn't think of anything uplifting to say. So she leaned possessively against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I think Reese is getting ready to sack me. I knew it was madness to invite both him LaCroix to the ceremony." Nick rubbed her hands. "You know, Nat... This is going to sound horrible." "What?" "I'm almost glad Schanke's not here to see this." Natalie could only laugh in surprise and a bit of shock. "Why?" Nick grinned sadly. "So he can't throw me a bachelor party. My whole life has been a bachelor party. How was the fitting this morning?" "Tedious and full of anxiety. God, getting a wedding dress made, it's like--like 'false matrimony' or something." Nick turned and looked at her askance. "Like hysterical pregnancy? I'm getting myself all wound up before the fact and nothing's even happened yet!" Natalie chuckled. "Although I've got to say, Julian's sister Naomi is a wonderful seamstress. She's made the whole process a lot less damaging to my sanity than it might have been." She rubbed her forehead tiredly. Nick kissed her forehead. Then he kissed the tip of her nose. Then he kissed her lips several times, lightly, before lacing his hands behind her neck and delving into the warm, inviting depths of her mouth. Natalie pulled his silk shirt from his waistband and ran her hands up and down Nick's back. "Still," she continued eventually, "it's a good thing I've got tomorrow night off. I plan on taking the world's most divine solitary bath." Natalie had managed to snag some Chinese food on the way home from the Coroner's Office, so they had a bit of dinner. Even though he was more or less used to 'tasting,' as Julian Gorey called it, Nick still had some trouble downing foods he hadn't known as a mortal. And Szechwan Chicken definitely fell into that category. He crumbled dried noodle after dried noodle between his elegant, nervous fingers while the food settled in his stomach, and looked slyly at her from under his eyelids. "I ought to get you to try goat," he commented. "'Goat?'" Natalie repeated, choking. "Yeah. I ate tons of it when I was in the Holy Land. It's not all that bad... when it's fully cooked." Natalie was looking dangerously exasperated at him. "Or some of the stuff I ate when I was a kid. Ever had venison? Or tripe? How about peacock?" "I'm warning you, Nick. One more word and I'll gag you with a fortune cookie." "That reminds me, there's French Vanilla ice cream in the freezer so you can dunk." "Hey, you remembered!" He watched Natalie at the counter, scooping ice cream into a bowl to go with her fortune cookies, and wondered about many things. He wondered at the strangeness of the universe. He wondered how long he would be allowed to enjoy his time with Natalie before the insidious lumps in his brain grew too large to endure. He wondered how many of his vampiric Family would actually show up for the reception, and whether or not they would be able to control themselves. At least he had one wonder that he could share. "I was wondering where you'd like to go for our honeymoon," he admitted, toying with his napkin. "I thought... maybe... you'd like to go to Belgium. To Castle Brabant." Natalie's face lit up brightly. "Your home." Nick nodded, and smiled bashfully. "Well, you do have other options, you know. Hawaii, the Caribbean--Belgium's not exactly warm in September. And I think I could convince LaCroix to loan me the use of his villa in Tuscany-- " "Honestly?" Natalie reached out and took his hand, the one with the cabochon sapphire she'd given him for Christmas. "I would be honored to spend our honeymoon in Brabant." *** Étienne Le Mort was sitting at the desk in his makeshift bedroom, staring into space. So many phone calls, so little time. Well, that was what he got for doing Nicolas a favor. Tailors, caterers, the wine broker, florists, musicians--not to mention the hassle of getting the damn place readied for the reception... "My head hurts," he moaned. "Go for a swim," his wife suggested pragmatically, looking up from her own work. "That was one of the reasons you bought this rattletrap: for the lake in the cellar." "So I'm a sentimental fool," Étienne shrugged. "It's part of my charm." "Why are all the men in my Family sentimental idiots?" Shosha asked the ceiling. "You, Nicolas, Lucius... It's the best thing in the world for Nicolas to be married. He's halfway to being domesticated already. But I never thought I would see the day that would marry." "Ma Shosha," said Étienne, in the masterful, caressing voice that reduced all other women to liquefied butter but only heralded his wife's polite attention. "What is this vendetta you have against LaCroix's wife? You've never even met Miranda; you always had some excuse to absent yourself whenever Kai brought her to Paris." Shosha's face was shaped like a very severe heart; wide at the cheekbones, pointed at the chin, with a widow's peak of untamed black curls that tumbled in a riot down her back, it was a face scoured of nearly all softness and romance by a life of hardships that had taken its toll on her sensibilities long before vampirism had entered her realm of experience. She shook it now. "Then, I saw no reason to subject myself to your own self-torture." A brief spasm of pain flashed over Étienne's face. "As for now, Lucius is my brother. He is all that is left of my true Family; the Family that surrounds me now is his, not mine. Even you, whom I am glad to call my husband, are not mine, but his. Yet he and his are all that I have. I have to be certain that nothing, not even Lucius and his foolish heart, does anything to jeopardize that." Resolutely, Shosha Le Mort went back to her studies. Filial Bonds (3/?) With a little regret but all her muscles blissfully relaxed, Nat stepped out of the bubble-filled tub. Yes, that had definitely been the world's most divine bath. She dried herself off, put on a big fluffy robe, pulled her curly, still-damp chestnut hair into a scrunchy, and was going to go into the bedroom to read when a sudden, overpowering urge for hot chocolate filled her mouth. So she went downstairs... and found a mug of hot chocolate steaming on the table. And not just a packet of Swiss Miss, either. This was the hot chocolate of the masters, thick enough to eat with a spoon and so sweet it was capable of inducing comas, laden with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, even a cinnamon stick. It was such a work of art, Natalie was afraid to touch it. "I hope it's to your liking." At the sound of the cultured, silken-steel voice, Natalie momentarily froze. "I thought that if I came bearing gifts, our conversation might actually proceed along civilized lines." When her heart and lungs remembered how to function, Natalie turned to face the intruder, her hand wrapped around the massive mug for protection. "I didn't know you stooped to bribery." >From Nick's big leather chair, LaCroix gestured briefly with his fingers before returning them to their tented position before his lips. "You forget, dear Doctor, I have been a father many times, so I know all the tricks of the trade. And bribery works at any age." Natalie plopped warily down on the couch opposite LaCroix, being very careful of the way her robe was arranged and acutely conscious of the fact that she was wearing nothing underneath. And judging by the way LaCroix had arched those dark eyebrows of his, he knew it too. "I can come back," he offered solicitously. "If you like." "What do you want, LaCroix?" "What do I want? What makes you think I want anything? Why do you and Nicholas always extend such mercenary motives to my visits?" "Because you never do anything without expecting something in return." "I think Nicholas is having a negative effect on you! I have been known to have my generous moments." LaCroix leaned forward. "And this is one of them. So drink your feminine indulgence without fear. I've come to extend the olive branch." Uncertainly, Natalie took a sip of her chocolate. "Hmm." Thankfully, she wiped away the whipped cream before LaCroix noticed the puffy white mustache. LaCroix's ice-blue eyes watched her closely. "A truce, then. Any special reason?" "Well, you are going to be Family in less than a week." "If you really want an end to open war, General, you'll have to do better than that." "I wish I'd had you with me in Gaul." "I know there's another reason." "Indeed?" "There has to be. I'm already Family, remember?" For a split second, LaCroix thought she was referring to her blood bond with Nicholas, and was about to snort in derision, when abruptly he did remember. One year ago, almost to the day, he had taken Natalie Lambert's head in his hands and gently kissed her lips, effectively saying, 'This woman belongs to us.' And he wondered if she realized the true import of that kiss. "I hadn't realized Nicholas was discussing our more private customs with you. His trust in you must be very great." Not wanting to press her luck, Natalie simply nodded. "All right, Doctor. All cards on the table, as they say. No... aces up my sleeves. If Nicholas can trust you, I suppose I shall learn to. There are... several subjects I wish to discuss with you. The most important of which... L'Azure." Despite Nick's best attempts to spare her the memory of that terrifying dinner date, Natalie now remembered everything. "I never thought I'd live to see the night that I would hear an apology from you." "An apology?" In the interests of peace and good will, LaCroix tried not to chuckle too loudly. "Doctor, you misunderstand. If I wanted to apologize, I would first have to feel remorse over what happened." A little put out, Natalie nursed her hot chocolate petulantly. And then, before LaCroix could continue, she had a sudden flash of what could only be called 'vampiric insight.' "Of course. I understand completely." "Do you?" "Believe it or not, I think I do. You're going to tell me that you were simply fulfilling your bargain with Nick. It had nothing to do with me. It was... nothing personal." Coherent speech vanished from LaCroix's mind, and all he could do was sit and regard his future daughter-in-law--and his potential granddaughter--with yet another measure of newfound respect. "You wanted to take from Nick what he took from you. How very Old Testament." "My fleeting acquaintance with the divine does tend more towards the wrathful God." "I just happened to be the bargaining chip. It could have been any woman in my place." LaCroix inclined his head. "As you say. No hard feelings?" Natalie thought about that. "No." "Quite magnanimous of you." "I do try." Natalie tucked her legs up under her and stirred her drink with the cinnamon stick, and waited. Her guest shifted awkwardly in his seat, swallowing several times. He was looking studiously at the floor, and it occurred to Natalie that this was the first time she'd ever seen LaCroix move in any way that was uncoordinated and less than graceful. "What's bothering you?" LaCroix's eyes clouded over for a short second. <> <> <> The warm, soft mental touch of his beloved flower brought LaCroix back to the present. "Tell me," he said, his voice oddly strained, "why I had to find out from Janette that my son is dying." Now it was Natalie's turn to be speechless. "He has never kept secrets from me. He has never to keep secrets from me. But now it has come to me asking you: why didn't he tell me?" "I don't know." And to her shock, Natalie found that she actually felt pity for LaCroix. "I'm sorry. I don't know." Filial Bonds (4/?) Nick stared off into space. Tracy threw an eraser at him. "Wake ! Honestly, I know the wedding's next week, but still, get it together, will you?" "Sorry, Trace. I was just... thinking. About Natalie." "Oh, I'll bet you were," Tracy muttered under her breath. Before Nick could formulate a reply, his phone rang. "Yeah, Knight." His cobalt eyes shot open. "I didn't realize you were still in town. Yes, that's very considerate of you. Why? I can't; I'm on duty." Nervously, Nick tongued a canine. Then he sighed. "All right. Where? Where?? Um, okay. I'll be there in twenty minutes or so." He hung up. "Tracy, I hate to leave you in the lurch like this, but--" "Go on, get out. One warning, though: keep doing this and I'll throw you that bachelor party." "Yeouch." Nick threw on his duster and made his way out of the precinct. Tracy went back to her paperwork, but was soon interrupted by a nervous pair of chocolate-brown eyes staring down at her. "Hey, Julian, what brings you here?" "Well, um, you see... Nick and Nat--That is, the wedding's next week." "I know that." "I've been invited to the reception." "So've I." Tracy stuck her pencil behind her ear and grinned expectantly. "And all these obvious statements are leading to...?" "Will you--I mean, would you like to come with me? You know, with me? Like... come as my date?" Tract pretended to think the offer over, while Julian stood by the desk and sweated, twisting his cap in his hands. Finally, she said "Sure." With that one word, Julian's face lit up like a Christmas tree. Overflowing with giddiness, he actually did a back flip! Right there in the precinct! "Um, Julian? Calm down." She grabbed his arm. "Down, boy. You're not gonna behave like this at the reception, are you?" "No, no," Julian promised hastily, jamming his cap backwards onto his head. Grinning, he almost danced out of the office. Tracy shook her head. He really did have a nice smile, she reflected thoughtfully, especially when it reached into his liquid eyes. *** LaCroix held the box of matches out of Miranda's reach. "No," he said. "You can't have them." "Lucien!" "No, I'm not letting you set fire to your chemistry textbook. What would Dr. Lambert say?" "I think Natalie has more things to worry about right now than me torching a torture device. Give me the damn matches! I need to vent." "Vent?" With a flick of his wrist, LaCroix tossed the box into a hanging light fixture. Miranda crossed her arms and scowled. She didn't pout; she scowled. And unless you were LaCroix, it was a scary sight. "Oh, please. If you really wanted them, you would have bowled me over and kicked me in the crotch to get them by now." "I can come up with more creative ways to vent my emotions on you." "Why do you need to vent?" "I need to expel all my negative feelings before I meet your sister so I don't make an utter ass of myself." "Ah." The letter from Shosha had arrived yesterday, a terse note in her spidery handwriting, stating exactly what her intentions were for attending Nicholas's wedding reception. "She 'wants to see if I'm suitable'!" Miranda ran a hand over her head, from her hair line to the top of her braid. "I'd be insulted if I wasn't so terrified." "'Terrified?' Mon petit chou--" Miranda snorted. "You don't know the meaning of the word." "I'm about to be confronted with my husband's one-thousand-nine-hundred-year-old sister, who apparently carries the 'Family' pride on her shoulders, and who--if I don't measure up to par--will eat me alive--" "Miranda, I think you're more on edge than the connubial couple! Stop worrying so much." "Don't I have a reason?" "Well... yes." "But why?! We're already married, so what can your sister do? Wait," Miranda retracted, "don't answer that." "She is the matriarch, of sorts," LaCroix pointed out. "Family welfare and all that." "But honestly, it's not as though there's a bloodline to protect." Miranda brushed a long strand of dark blond hair behind her ear. "Tell me about her," she ordered. LaCroix smirked at the idea of being ordered around by this tempting morsel. "You can at least tell me what I'm walking into." LaCroix shrugged. "She's a first century Roman Jew who lost her husband, child, and the better part of her family to gladiators in the Colosseum. Which is where I found her? She's intellectually curious, possessed of an incredible, almost royal pride, and she's very protective of me. Overprotective, I'd say. You've got a lot in common." Miranda chewed on her lip. "What if she doesn't think so?" "Let's not think about the possibility, all right?" "What did Natalie tell you about Nicolas?" LaCroix took up his wife's small hands in his. "It's true," he said quietly. Miranda closed her eyes. "Damn you, Nicolas... Damn you." Her youthful face was suddenly tired. She laid her head on his chest, and LaCroix stroked her hair. "I hate Septembers." Filial Bonds (5/?) Nick rode the elevator up to the top floor of Toronto's most exclusive hotel--an establishment that even he, with all his centuries of accumulated wealth, would have hesitated to patronize. His fingers drummed against his thigh. He stepped off the lift, walked down the finely-carpeted hallway, and knocked on a particular door. "Glad you decided to come, Nicholas." "Isn't this a little up-scale for you, Matthew?" "Not when I'm entertaining. Come in." The massive, coppery-skinned Welsh vampire stepped aside to allow Nicholas to enter. Matthew led Nick into the suite's living room, and gestured to a woman draped languidly over the sofa. "Nicholas Knight, Kara Fergusson." Kara was one of the most striking women Nick had ever seen. The shape of her face and body defied description, her bone-straight hair was so black it was nearly red, and Nick could only think of her skin as 'lilac-white.' She was frighteningly beautiful. She was also one of the oldest vampires Nick had ever encountered. Her sharp green eyes fastened on Nick, and involuntarily, he shivered. Matthew smirked. "Sit down?" Nick took an empty chair. He noticed several official-looking documents spread out on the coffee table, as well as a large, flat wooden box. "I would have thought you'd have gone back to Brabant after what happened earlier this month. You and Miranda got what you wanted." His host stood in front of a window that reached from ceiling to floor and looked out over the city. "Yes, we did." Matthew said shortly. And then, "I don't blame you for what happened to Paula. It's not your fault, anymore than those so-called 'suicides' last year were your fault. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. "I'm going back to Brabant tomorrow night." His somber façade cracked, and he winked. "Have to get the castle ready for the Lord and his new Lady." Nick nodded gratefully. Years after Matthew had saved his life, Nick had been able to return the favor by making him head groundskeeper at Castle Brabant. Menial as the position might seem for an Ancient, Matthew had asked for it, and Nick had never regretted it. "I appreciate the invitation to the wedding reception, but... I can't. You understand. So I wanted to give you your wedding gifts tonight." "Oh. Matthew, I--" Nick felt slightly ashamed. "I don't know what to say. You didn't need to get me anything." "I thought I did." Matthew nodded to the box. "Open it." Kara said nothing, only watched closely. Nick slid the box closer. He undid the latches and lifted the lid carefully. Within the box lay a bulky something wrapped in dark green felt. He pulled aside the cloth. "Oh, my God... Matthew..." "It's a pretty fair replica, wouldn't you say? It's been a long time since I carved the original, but I think I've still got the knack." Reverently, Nick cradled the beautiful swan harp in his arms. He closed his eyes and laid his cheek against the cool, painted ash wood. With trembling fingers, he plucked the taut wires, and listened to the magical, delicate sounds. "I know it's not the true harp," said Matthew softly. "I know it's not the one that holds the memories for you. But I hope it gives you some comfort." "Thank you," Nick murmured, fighting back tears. "Thank you." "There's more," said Kara, speaking for the first time. Nick straightened, wiping his eyes. With a single graceful motion, Kara lifted herself from the sofa. Her hair slapped softly against her shoulders as she shuffled through the papers on the coffee table. "Here. Read it." Nick read through the document. First he frowned, then he gawped, then finally he dropped the paper as if it burned him. "You can't be serious!" "We are very serious." "But... why?" Matthew dropped to his knees beside Nick's chair. "Nicholas. You gave us back the harp. You gave the soul back to our land, our people. This... piece of paper is poor thanks, but it's the best we can do." "Delabarre was the last of his family," Kara continued, leaning close. "And his will, to all mortal eyes, is authentic. The executors of his estate have been looking for you for two years. You, the oldest living descendent of Nicholas de Brabant, called the Crusader, betrayed by the first Lord of Carreg. Do you understand what this means, Nicholas? are now Lord Carreg." "I can't accept this. What will do with a Welsh estate?" "Whatever you like, so long as you don't abuse it. Use it in conjunction with the DeBrabant Foundation or something. Look, we're not giving you the land, Nicholas. It's not ours to give. We're giving you custodianship of Carreg. Better you than someone else we don't know and can't trust." Matthew gripped Nick's arm. "Please, Nicholas. For Gwynyth's sake, for the sake of all her descendents. Take the place that we have prepared for you, that should have been yours eight centuries ago." Her descendents. Nick had known that Gwynyth had had children, of course. She had been a widow when he had met her in 1218. He had never come face to face with her children, but he had seen them from afar, two girls and a little boy with the palest blond hair Nicolas had ever seen. He had forgotten all about the three children. "Joanna Shay." Kara nodded. "Joanna, yes. And someone else you know, Nicholas, someone you know very well." <> <> <> <> "My God," Nick realized. "He..." "And Miranda." "No, Miranda is Kai's adopted daughter," Nick said absently, completely missing the meaningful look that passed between Kara and Matthew. "Does he know?" "If he does, he didn't learn it from me." Then, "For Gwynyth's descendents. Who should have been yours." Nick fingered the beautiful instrument in his arms. "LaCroix always said, 'Living forever is the best revenge,'" he muttered under his breath. He took a deep breath. "All right." By the time the sun rose, all the paperwork was complete, and all the necessary phone calls had been made. Kara would take care of any remaining red tape when she returned to Wales, but for all intents and purposes, Nicholas Brabant Knight was now the Lord of Carreg. Filial Bonds (6/?) While her husband slept, Shosha found herself wandering through the dusty, ramshackle old building that Étienne had purchased, ostensibly for Nicolas's wedding reception. She knew him better; he'd keep the wretched place. In fact, he probably wasn't going back to Paris after the wedding. Shosha wasn't sure. 'Husband' and 'wife' were terms they had adopted for ease of reference when circulating in mortal company, which neither of them enjoyed, and for denoting territory when among their own kind. Even if there had been no ceremony, the simple word 'spouse' could easily ward off the unwanted attentions of any sensible vampire. Shosha wondered. Shosha had seen her only brother's heart broken before. Unbidden, she wondered if he had told Miranda how they had become Family. @}----- The woman looked up swiftly. "If you've come back for more--" she warned, trying to sound threatening and doing a damn good job of it. "Oh, but I've only just arrived." From the shadows a stone's throw from where she was chained, a figure emerged. It was a tall, muscular man, in a white toga and red cloak. He had the close-cropped hair and arrogant bearing of a military man. She eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you?" "My name... is Lucius." The dark-haired woman laughed humorlessly. "And I suppose you've come to bring some light into my last dark hours. Well, try elsewhere," she suggested bitterly. "I'm all used up for tonight." "Ah, but tomorrow you will die," Lucius pointed out, dispassionately. The Hebrew woman brushed her abundant black hair behind one ear, exposing a livid bruise on her cheekbone. "You won't stand a chance against the lions." "I will take my chances with the lions. Better the lions than the soldiers." instructed Lucius's master. "What would you say it I were to offer you a way out of here?" "I would say, find yourself a brothel." The woman looked over him appraisingly. "What exactly are you offering, sir?" "Nothing less than life." "In return for what? My virtue? My soul?" "Your acceptance will do for now will do for now." Lucius offered her his hand. "As for the others... all in good time." "My husband is dead." Lucius raised a dark eyebrow, but she didn't seem to be speaking to him. "My children... my sisters... my aged father..." "I've always seen death as a release, not a punishment." "This world is a harsh place," she agreed. "Even so... I do not wish to be released just yet." She took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You don't even know my name," she objected. "If I now belong to you..." Lucius raised a finger. "Oh no. Not to me." He swept his arm around. A tiny girl walked into the flickering torchlight. She was smiling, and the smile had exposed her fangs, and they were glinting. "To her." The Hebrew woman swallowed, but held her head high. @}----- *** When Nick got home, he found Natalie asleep on the couch in the living room, in her bathrobe. There was an empty mug on the coffee table, fairly reeking of hot chocolate. Despite his fatigue and his rapidly forming headache, Nick smiled. He carefully set down the box containing his new harp and gathered Natalie into his arms. Coming half awake, Natalie burrowed into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Nick buried his nose in her hair, smelling her special scent of spiced wine and chocolates. The chocolate was quite a bit stronger than usual at the moment... Natalie mumbled something. "What was that, Nat?" She sat up and looked at him. Nick thought. "I didn't mean to wake you." "It's okay. Nick, why didn't you tell LaCroix about your cancer?" Nick was speechless. "He came over tonight--with the best of intentions!--and he asked me why you hadn't told him, why did he have to find out from Janette. Nick, if you could've seen the look on his face..." Natalie shook her head. "He was... he was devastated. I felt sorry for him. Oh, my God. I can't believe I said that out loud! I felt for LaCroix! I thought the sky was going to come crashing down around my heels--" Nick pressed a finger to his lips and stopped her tirade. "You wanna know why I didn't tell him?" he asked in sorrow. Natalie nodded, so he told her. "Oh... Oh, Nick." She laid her hand against his unshaven cheek. Nick kissed her palm and nuzzled it gratefully. "You really do care for him, don't you?" "More than he has any right to be cared for." Natalie could say nothing to that. She could only lay her head back on his shoulder and let Nick hold her and kiss her chestnut hair. Filial Bonds (7/?) It was three days before the wedding, and Nick was sitting in his loft, trying to read. He'd taken out a subscription to an archeological magazine some time ago, and this was the latest issue, but it just wasn't keeping his interest. He sighed, and flipped a page. His shift was over, his shoes were off, and there was a bottle of good vintage just within reach, yet Nick felt... restless. He tossed aside his magazine and rubbed his chin fretfully. Natalie wasn't there, that had something to do with it. Myra, Sarah and Grace had decided to throw her a bridal shower. So Natalie was with them and Nick was all by his lonesome, and he had no doubt that they were plying her with various styles of intimate apparel and X-rated 'recreational devices.' Nick grinned to himself. He took a sip of his bloodwine, but it did nothing for his jittery nerves. "Aw." Nick looked up. "Nicolas's gettin' cold feet." "I am not," he retorted. "And what are you doing here, Alain?" The gypsy rolled his lanky shoulders in a shrug. "I'm just the advance scout, so don't shoot the messenger." "Oh no, if you're throwing me a bachelor party--" "Not a bachelor party; a wedding shower. An informal wedding shower," he hastened to add. "What for?" asked Nick suspiciously. Alain stuck out his tongue. "'Cause we want to give you your wedding gifts now. Any objections?" "I... guess not--" The loft was suddenly filled with vampires. LaCroix was setting a case of bloodwine on the kitchen counter, Kai was arranging various packages and parcels on the table, and Étienne was seated very comfortably on the piano bench, with a prince at one knee and a pauper at the other. The lift hummed to life, and promptly discharged Miranda--also laden with boxes--and Janette, who was carrying Jesse. Miranda carefully shrugged off her burden on the table where Kai was sorting through them. Janette, holding her son close with one hand, held out the other to Nick. He pressed it to his lips gratefully. "Janette, you are the embodiment of grace and forgiveness." "I make my own choices in all things, Nicolas. There is nothing to forgive." She settled into his arms the month-old child who, in a strange way, was Nicholas's son. Jesse waved his arms and giggled. Nick touched the tip of his nose to Jesse's; the boy was growing quite a mop of brownish-black fuzz. And his eyes. LaCroix had called them strangely old, almost... knowing in their maturity and their bright, bright blue. The boy was a morsel of untapped potential, and the thought of him becoming a mindless assassin for the Enforcers caused Nick no little pain. He touched his lips to Jesse's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Jesse's little hands came up and became playing with Nick's nose. "Come over here, Nicholas," LaCroix ordered, determined to be as cheerful as he was allowed to be, "and drink a toast to yourself." "No, no. Allow me." Alain dipped his hand into the case and pulled out a wine bottle. Kai took one look at the label and made a face. "Careful," he warned blandly. "That stuff does nasty things to your depth perception, you know." "Yeah, yeah. Whistle me up a storm, Quartermayne." "I've generally found that heeding Nikaila's advice is a wise thing to do," commented LaCroix, pawing through the case of bottles. Alain snorted. "Like I'm going to believe anything that La Voyante over there tells me." Kai's snow-grey eyes narrowed dangerously. "A ? Is that what he called me?" "Alain," Janette cautioned, "don't..." "Damn right it is, you sorry excuse for a--" Incensed, Kai dashed his drink in Alain's face. Alain blinked, totally in shock for a full five seconds. Then he licked the bloodwine from his lips. "Hmm. Suddenly I have a refreshing mint flavor. Cool!" Kai stared at him incredulously. Then he laughed, almost without coughing, and refrained from pounding Alain into a pulp. "Oh, you're flavored, all right," said Étienne caustically, running a finger over Alain's dripping forehead and then licking the blood from his skin. "Flavor of the week." "All right, all right," Nick said quickly, rushing over to separate them. "Étienne, in the corner. Alain, head down, it's quiet time." Alain shook off Nick's hand and ducked into the bathroom to clean himself off. "Maybe we should give Nikolai his gifts and get out of here," Alexei suggested. "Before this turns into a nice rowdy game of Happy Families," Daniel added. "Right. Well, the case of wine is from Alain, whose knowledge of fine wines and spirits is surpassed only by his knowledge of--" "Lucien." LaCroix cocked an eyebrow. "No, you're right, that is neither here nor there." "I resent that!" Alain shouted from the bathroom. Rolling his eyes, LaCroix handed Nick a simply carved wooden box. When he opened it, Nick found a St. Nicholas medallion. His 'father' shrugged. "That was Nikaila's contribution." "I couldn't find one that said 'St. Kai,'" Kai grinned. LaCroix tapped the box. "For Family, mon fils," he said quietly, knowing his son would understand. Nick nodded. LaCroix added silently. But this was neither the time nor the place to confront Nicholas about his health. There was also a piece of brown fluff in the box. Nick looked at the child cradled in his left arm and the open box in his right hand, and smiled. "Janette. Thank you." Miranda handed him her package. "It's sappy and romantic," Miranda complained sheepishly, "but honestly, I couldn't resist." >From the rustling tissue paper, Nick lifted two slender crystal champagne flutes, their pewter bases cast into the shape of swirling dragons. "Miri, they're gorgeous." "I know they're a little dumb--" "No." Nick held out his arm. "They're just right." He hugged her tightly. "Merci, ma petite soeur," he whispered, kissing the crown of her head. Filial Bonds (8/?) For his part, Étienne gave Nick a wide, flat, grey plastic case. "What's this?" The Parisian vampire only motioned for him to open it. Inside, in various neat little compartments, Nick found a collection of stage makeup--putty, grease-based and cream-based face paints, sponges, Q-tips, hair dyes, and what Nick recognized as yak hair for fake eyebrows. "Something for those beauty marks of yours, should you find the need," Étienne explained with a half-smile. "And if it should come to that, for the Graying." The Graying. The practice of false aging that was every vampire's last ditch effort to hide their true nature. Nick was solemn. "Do you really think it'll go that far?" "You're marrying a mortal, one you've shown repeated reluctance to bring across. And you're in a very public profession. So it can't hurt to prepare. "Shosha sends her blessings," Étienne continued. "Nothing else, of course. You know how she feels about the accumulation of material possessions. And my kids--you haven't met them yet--said to say congratulations. They'll be at the reception." He lowered his voice and leaned closer. "I brought them to keep the Prince and the Pauper out of trouble. Plus, my oldest boy's playing piano for me." Nick punched Étienne lightly on the shoulder. "Gonna sing 'Music of the Night'?" he teased. "Merde! Mon Dieu, no." "Why? I thought you liked that musical." "I do! Matter of fact, as soon as you and Natalie get back, I'm dragging you two out to see it with me. I just don't find that song particularly appropriate for a wedding." "Why not?" "Bad luck, Nicolas," said Étienne sadly. "Every song from that play is bad luck." Nick allowed his friend and blood brother a moment for quiet reflection. "You're as bad as Natalie," he said at last. "She won't tell me what her dress looks like and you won't tell me what songs you've got planned for the reception--I had to do almost no planning for this wedding and frankly--thank you." Étienne laughed. "Well, I did have some input from the other half of this imminent partnership." A look of mock fear appeared on his handsome face. "And from her formidable bridesmaids. Ye gods, Nicolas! That Schanke woman is as vital as a sandstorm." "And she's got just as much grit." "I really hope this is as bad as she gets." "Hey, I remember when Schanke was alive. They once crossed wires so baldy he moved in with me. Duck lamp and all." "Yikes." "He cooked breakfast for me." "Ça me fait peur." * "Next day he went back to his wife." "Ça me fait peur even more." I thought you had the utmost respect for formidable women." "I have the utmost respect for all women. And for Myra Schanke. But... ah." Étienne sighed and scrubbed a hand through his well-tamed black curls. "If I keep trying to describe her, blood will start shooting from my ears." Nick chuckled. It was done discreetly, but eventually, Nick got around to noticing that one by one, each member of his Family had covertly made their ways upstairs and down again. Discreet, to be sure, and done with vampiric speed, but Nick just had to ask. "Maybe I don't want to know," he said, "but what do you all find so interesting about my bedroom?" "Nothing," replied Janette innocently. "We're just leaving our gifts for Natalie on your bed." "Awright, enough chitchat," Daniel insisted chirpily. "It's our turn." He shoved a box into his older brother's hands. Nick unwrapped a hinged pair of silver picture frames. They held two small watercolors. One was of himself, and the other was of Natalie. Both inexpertly done, but showing very strong promise. Daniel bounced on the balls of his feet. "Well?" "Did you do these?" Daniel nodded proudly. "When did you start painting?" "Oh, back in the seventies. Do you like 'em?" Nick grinned and ruffled Daniel's blond hair. "They're great." Taller and quieter than Daniel, Alexei asked Nick to hold out his palm. In it he placed a medal. Nick turned over the medal and its faded ribbon. "This was your father's, wasn't it?" "He was your friend," Alexei said. "I think he would have liked for you to have it. Oh, and this as well." And he gave Nick a deck of cards. Alexei grinned. "After all, a friend gained at the gaming table is the truest one of all." As they were all getting ready to leave, Kai lagged behind. Nick started to approach him but hesitated; now that he looked at his fledgling, he could see the incredible resemblance. He could . Unaware, Kai gave Nick two small items: an etched silver flask, and a coin. An American coin; a quarter from 1842. "Well," he said by way of explanation, "I only give those to my very closest friends." Filial Bonds (9/?) With a little difficulty, Natalie shut the door of the elevator behind her. "Nick?" she called, shifting her mass of bridal shower gifts. "Upstairs." "Could I have a little help?" "Sure." Nick whisked down, picked up Natalie and her presents, and flew back upstairs. "How's that?" "Peachy." She looked at the bed. "What's all this?" "Wedding gifts. From the Family." "From the--? bought wedding gifts?" Natalie dropped her load, composed of very flimsy-looking (and tempting-looking) black and red garments and mysterious small boxes onto her dresser. She knelt on the bed and picked up a neatly wrapped, oblong package. She looked at the label. " bought me a wedding gift?" "You're Family, Nat. How many times do we have to repeat it? Open it." "The shape is putting me off. Ooh, bad thoughts. Yuck. That is the thing I want to get from LaCroix..." "Natalie!" Nick laughed, horrified. "Okay, okay." Natalie undid the wrappings and lifted the cover as thought she expected a snake to come slithering out. "It's a knife." Nick looked. "No, it's a dagger." He hefted the blade by its hilt of expertly carved, twisting wood. "A rondel dagger, and a nice one." "The etchings on the blade are beautiful." "What's the card say?" "'For Natalie. Just in case.' In case of what? Smart ass." They had a lot of fun unwrapping the rest of the gifts, but this time, it was Natalie who was... off. Nick grasped her hand. "How was the shower?" "It was nice. Lots of girl stuff. And that's all I'm going to say on the subject. If I'd known ahead of time, I'd've invited Miranda. But I doubt she minded." Nick studied his soon-to-be-wife. "You know, Nat, I'm not known for my perceptiveness but... You're nervous about something." Natalie nodded. She got up and started pacing around the small bedroom. "What is it?" he asked gently. "Even if... Nick, even if your Family has accepted me... what about the rest of the Community? And the Enforcers?" "There's nothing they can do about it. It's our marriage. It's our Family. It's none of their damn business." He rolled off the bed, got to his feet and put his hands on Natalie's shoulders. "Are you really that worried about a response?" "I think I've got a reason." "You're mortal," Nick replied. "That's the reason. And by now, it's a minor one. Nat, after all that you've done for the Community, no one, not even the Enforcers, is going to try and touch you. They've got no reason; they've got no right. Now. Try to get some sleep, okay?" "Okay." They got into bed, and Nick turned out the light. Filial Bonds (10/?) The days between that night and the wedding literally slipped through Nick's fingers, so that abruptly he found himself in his bedroom, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo. His hands were shaking. LaCroix rolled his eyes. "For pity's sake, Nicholas, anyone would think you were getting married or something. Here, hold still." Nick didn't seem to hear him. LaCroix jerked sharply on his son's lapels. "Hold still, I said!" Meekly, Nick allowed LaCroix to fasten the tie properly. "Nervous?" "I don't think I've ever been so petrified in my life." Kai was downstairs. Should he ask Kai now? Or should he wait until after the reception? After the honeymoon, even. Should he explain to LaCroix why he had kept his illness secret? Should he even bother trying to explain? His mind was in jitters, but LaCroix seemed oblivious, placidly brushing stray dust motes from Nicholas's shoulder. "There," he said. LaCroix looked Nick up and down and nodded curtly. "You're presentable." Nicholas started. He looked into his dresser mirror. Tall and elegant in his best tuxedo, sleek and well-groomed, every dark blond curl in place. His chin and cheeks were freshly shaved, which brought out the hard line of his jaw as well as his scars, but tonight, they seemed to add to his appearance rather than detract from it. He shook his head. "Something's... What's missing?" Nick snapped his fingers. "Of course!" He dove into his closet and from a chest, pulled out a black silk sash, embroidered in red and black, with the Brabant lion in bold relief. Nick slipped it over his head and LaCroix helped him to adjust it so that it hung straight. He scowled. "Are you really going to wear this?" "I think my wedding is an appropriate place to wear my coat-of-arms. I'd consider wearing yours, but since you're older than the heraldic code..." "All right, all right, touché. And I'll thank you to shear away from the age cracks tonight. Bad enough that Aristotle had to bump my 'public age' up twenty years, just to make you physically possible." Nick smiled beatifically. "Well, then. It's a good thing you don't have an ego to bruise." He cuffed his master on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go downstairs and mingle. Oh," and he caught LaCroix's arm. "Please be courteous to Captain Reese." "The man who's been harassing me for over a year?" "Yes." "I won't eat him. Beyond that, I'm not making any promises." It was the most Nick could expect, so he nodded. "By the way, Janette apologizes for not coming to the ceremony. But since your esteemed captain still has a price on her head, she decided it was better not to chance it. But she will be at the reception." "He'll recognize her here but he won't recognize her there? How'd she come to that conclusion?" "Better lighting." As they descended the stairs to join the wedding guests, LaCroix surreptitiously dug his elbow into Nick's ribs. "Look at that." "What?" "That." LaCroix was pointing to Nick's TV, in front of which were plopped Jenny Schanke, Natalie's niece Amy, and the Prince and the Pauper. All the furniture in the studio-style loft had been pushed back against the walls, so they were sitting on the floor. Jenny had the TV remote control and was expertly channel-surfing. "Hmm," Nick cringed. "Before you got here, Jenny asked me if either of the boys were cute. I didn't know whether to be amused or terrified." "They will behave, Nicholas." "You're certain?" "Of Alexei, I'm certain. Royal good manners and all that. As for Daniel... I have the sneaking suspicion that he has been on his best behavior ever since he got to Toronto. It'll wear off eventually, but I doubt that will happen tonight." Trotting quickly down the stairs, Nick strode over to his 'godson' and hugged him tightly. "Air, Nicholas!" Kai laughed, but he returned the embrace. Nick frowned concernedly. "Are you all right? You look exhausted." "Ah, it's nothing," Kai shrugged. "But you know, I had the strangest dream today. I think it had to do with this new girl who's taken to hanging around the store. And... Cadbury Cream Eggs?" He shook his head sharply. "Must be this new pain medication." Meanwhile, LaCroix had approached Captain Reese. "You look ill, Captain. Stomach troubling you?" "Well, Mr. LaCroix, you'll have to excuse me. But the idea of someone like you being responsible for one of the most decent human beings I've ever had the privilege of knowing--yes, that does make me a little nauseous." He walked away, leaving LaCroix smothering in his own laughter. Miranda commented wryly. LaCroix turned around to face his wife, and cupped her chin in one hand. To anyone observing--as Reese was--the grip looked painful, but LaCroix knew his own strength. "And just because you're nervous about meeting Shosha, don't take it out on me. I only accept punishment that I deserve." Swiftly, LaCroix bent down and claimed her mouth. S omeone cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but there are children present," Nick pointed out, grinning. LaCroix looked over his shoulder, and saw the four children. Daniel and Jenny had their hands over their mouths to smother their giggles, Amy was watching with big, solemn eyes, and Alexei was shaking his head from side to side. LaCroix just shrugged. The lift buzzed to life, and after a moment the elevator disgorged Father Pierre Rochefort from the Church of St. John. The priest tugged uneasily at his collar. "Father Rochefort! Good evening!" "Detective Knight," replied Rochefort gratefully. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in; you did give me the access code--" "No, no, it's not a problem," Nick assured him. "Come in." It was sheer human curiosity that made Rochefort's eyes wander eagerly over every surface in the fairly exotic loft apartment, but it was something more... spiritual within him that caused him to realize that there was some odd thing in his immediate vicinity. Whether it was good or ill, he couldn't say. He wasn't even honestly sure what was causing it. Rochefort had felt something strange about the blond police officer the first time they had met, some five years ago, but tonight the strangeness was somehow diminished. It was still there, but nowhere near as strong. The odd thing might be Detective Knight's father, the infamous Nightcrawler, a man who refused to shake Rochefort's hand and greeted him with only the barest mask of civility. Or it might be the godson. Yes, Father Rochefort decided, shaking Kai Thorn's hand. It was definitely the godson. Something about the way those pale grey, nearly silver eyes, probed at him. "I've seen you before," he realized. Kai smiled serenely. "You usually come for 4 o'clock Mass. I've seen you standing in the back of the church." "Yes," Kai said. "I'm not a Catholic, but I do enjoy your sermons, Father Rochefort. You've got a real talent for them. I'm pleased Nicholas asked you to officiate tonight." "You'll keep things , I trust?" LaCroix asked. "Not too much obligatory preaching?" Rochefort saw the young blond woman beside Mr. LaCroix--his wife, he realized with a slight start--shoot a glare at her companion. "Y-yes," he stammered. "Just a few words, and the ceremony. This would have been a bit easier if you had all simply come to a rehearsal--" Just having the Nightcrawler look at him made Rochefort want to shake. Nick took a step forward to pacify his master, but Kai cut in first. "Take no mind of LaCroix, Father," he said in a friendly tone. Kai winked. "I don't. Now," he continued, business-like. "Where do you want us all to stand?" Filial Bonds (11/?) Natalie had felt butterflies in her stomach before, but never like this. Hidden away in the guest room while they waited for the ceremony to commence, her mind was running in circles. Nick. Vampire. Marriage. Community. Nick. Marriage. Vampire. Community. Nick. Marriage. Nick. Nick. Nick. Nick... She shook her head. "Don't move your head!" Myra screeched, waving the hairbrush. Natalie froze. "Sorry." Grace, her best friend and maid of honor, rolled her eyes and took the hairbrush away from Myra Schanke, who was brandishing it like a deadly weapon. With a few expert strokes, she set Natalie's hair to rights. "Nervous, Nat?" asked her sister-in-law, Sarah. "A little. I mean, it's not that I'm worried about marrying Nick. But I can't... can't wrap my brain around the idea of married." She rubbed at one of her satin cuffs. "Tell me I'm not totally nuts." "You're not," her three friends said simultaneously. They all looked at each other. "Although we may be," Grace finished. "Don't worry, Nat," said Sarah, hugging her. "When I married Richard, I was literally out of my senses for weeks afterward. But in a good way." Sarah released the bride-to-be, and moved aside to allow Myra to set the tiara on Natalie's head. *** Nick tapped his 'little brothers,' who were watching late-night TV, on the heads and took them aside. "Here," he said, handing each boy a simple gold band. "Hold on to these for me until the priest asks for them, okay?" Alexei and Daniel nodded solemnly. "Alexei, you have my ring, so you stand beside her. Daniel, you have Natalie's, so you'll stand next to me. "Do. Not. I repeat: Do. Not. Lose them." "Nikolai! We're in your flat and the ceremony's in fifteen minutes. How could we lose them?" "You'd find a way," Nick winked. "And turn the TV off, will you? It ruins the mood." He straightened, muttering to himself. "Now where is that photographer?" He showed up finally, and set up his equipment in a mercifully small amount of time. They dimmed the lights, turned on the music, and got into place. Nick felt oddly relieved that as his best man, LaCroix was standing at his back like a tall boulder, a cold but steadying presence. Reassuring. The music was Mendholsson's "Song Without Words." The candles cast gentle shadows over everyone. And Natalie, when she walked down the stairs with Grace and Myra and Sarah behind her, stopped the breath in Nick's throat. The dress was of a vaguely medieval style, one that belonged to no one era in particular but would have been at home in any time. Made of a soft grey-blue, with pale blue satin at the cuffs and the deep, wide collar, it made his Natalie look like some ethereal creature whose experiences and maturity only added to her indescribable charm. A diamond and gold tiara sat on her forehead, holding her chestnut curls away from her lovely face and sending them cascading down over her shoulders. Her eyes met his, and the world receded. Filial Bonds (12/?) When she saw Nick, a half-remembered fragment of poem from her high school days wafted through Natalie's mind. Byron, she thought, and with a few alterations, it fit to perfection the man before her, in his dress clothes and black and red sash. He walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in his aspect and his eyes. With the kind of clarity of mind that normally only comes in dreams, Natalie walked across the floor with more grace than she knew she possessed, and took Nick's hand. His eyes truly were dark and bright, and they were shining. The guests clustered closely around them, silent and respectful. Father Rochefort opened his book. "Friends, we are gathered here today to join Nicholas Brabant Knight and Natalie Lambert in the bonds of holy matrimony. In the interests of brevity, I've been asked to skip the rest of the usual proceedings. So I will only say that no matter how many weddings I have the honor to officiate at, I will never tire of knowing that love is not an ideal dream, pursued in vain." The priest looked at the guests. "If anyone present objects to this union, let him speak now or forever hold his peace." LaCroix opened his mouth. Miranda immediately sent him a mental jab. Nick, Natalie and Kai exchanged some apprehensive looks, as LaCroix considered. Then he bit his tongue and held his peace. All Family present breathed a collective sigh of relief. Father Rochefort, who might not have been telepathic but had seen the entire exchange, nodded, satisfied. "Nicholas and Natalie have written their own vows. Nicholas?" Nick had that boyish, wondering look on his face, and when he opened his mouth, his prepared speech seemed to pitch itself out the window. He shook his head. "No words that I can say will ever tell how much you mean to me. You were the light that guided me through the dark times. You've saved my life, and you never once gave up on me, even when I was ready to give up on myself." Looking into Natalie's eyes, Nick recited something in French. Her ears managed to catch every third word, but her mind and heart understood perfectly: "To the dearest, to the most lovely, who lights the heart in me, To the angel immortal, the idol, praise to eternity. To the purest, to the most lovely, my joy and my sanity, To the angel immortal, the idol, praise to eternity!" Daniel stepped up and carefully held out the small gold circlet. "Repeat after me," Father Rochefort instructed. "With this ring..." "With this ring..." "I thee wed." "I thee wed." And never did a plain gold ring slip more easily into place. Natalie gripped Nick's hands tightly. Nick smiled. "My life hasn't been the same since I met you, Nick. It's been a long, strange road and sometimes it's been downright scary. But from the first time you spoke to me, I knew you were something special, and I wasn't letting you go." LaCroix confided. Alexei handed Natalie the second ring. "With this ring..." "With this ring..." "I thee wed." "I thee wed." Father Rochefort closed his Bible and grinned. "Well, then. With the power vested in me by God and the province of Ontario, I now pronounce you husband and wife. "You may kiss the bride." So Nick did, and he and Natalie were completely oblivious to the clapping and cheers of their Family. Filial Bonds (13/?) The building that Étienne had chosen for Nick and Natalie's wedding reception looked utterly dilapidated from the outside. But the inside--oh, the inside... He was waiting for them in the foyer, the only person on the planet who could look better in a tuxedo than Nick. "This way," he beckoned, leading them down a hall. "This way!" The hallway blossomed into a wide landing, and the wedding party found themselves standing at the top of a grand staircase. Below them was a massive wide-open space, crammed with people. Nick's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head. "I don't remember inviting this many people," he hissed to LaCroix. "It's not people. The walls are mirrored," LaCroix realized. He listened carefully. "And the acoustics are fantastic. An acoustically perfect ballroom. Oh yes, this is Étienne's doing." He looked down at Daniel, who was tugging on his jacket. "Somethin' feels funny," he complained in a soft voice, and tapped the back of his head. LaCroix closed his eyes briefly. "He's right, Nicholas." He snorted softly. "I should have known." "What's wrong?" "Oh, that depends on your perspective. We've never had such a gathering of Family before, you know." He was keeping his voice as low as possible, as Captain Reese was watching his every move. "Apparently, the draw of the invited congregating here was too much for the uninvited to resist." He craned his neck out over the crowd. "Yes. I see Alexandra... and Serena..." Nick winced. "Sophia... I don't recognize him." "That's Tal," Étienne broke in. "He's mine. Chloe also." "Alain's bass player? Small world." LaCroix touched a finger to his chin. "Oh, no, there's Tobias. And Edward..." "This Family's bigger than I thought," Natalie marveled dryly. "I'm almost two thousand years old, Doctor," LaCroix reminded her lowly. "Did you honestly think the only children I had were those you had encountered?" He looked at the guests again, and an expression of surprise flickered across his face. "Huh. I had wondered what happened to her." "To who?" "Alyce." Nick gritted his teeth. If he was lucky, the people he was going to try and dodge would have similar agendas; after all, they didn't to be here. With Natalie on his arm, Nick held his head high and began to descend the staircase. Someone looked up and saw the new bride and groom, and the sound of one person clapping became a crashing roar of cheers, whistles and stamping feet. Tracy and Julian and a tall, regal woman with dark hair whom Natalie did not recognize met them at the bottom of the stairs. Tracy hugged them both. "Thanks, Trace," she said, hugging back. Julian grinned and waved a hand at both of them. "Congrats, Nat, Nick. I think I can speak for the entire 96th precinct when I say, it's about damn bloody time." "I'll second that," Reese said gruffly. Nick met the dark eyes of the tall woman, and felt LaCroix's eyes on the back of his head. "Natalie, this is Shosha Le Mort." The woman inclined her head the merest fraction. Natalie did the same. "Étienne's wife and..." "And LaCroix's sister, so I guess that makes her my aunt." Nick kissed Shosha's narrow hand. "" she said in stern French. Nick bowed his head. Shosha raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. Congratulations, Nicolas. And Natalie," she added. As Nick and Natalie moved on to greet their other guests, Shosha held out her hands to her brother. LaCroix grasped them fondly. "You're well, I trust?" "Very." She kissed his cheek. "Daniel, Alexei. Mes petites gamins." The boys hugged her hard. Shosha whispered something in Daniel's ear and he lit up like a fireworks display. The boys grabbed Jenny and Amy and together the children ran off in another direction. "The children have a separate room for their own amusement," Shosha reassured the girls' mothers. Then she saw Miranda. "" she began in Hebrew. "" "" "" he cautioned. "" With an encouraging look at his wife, LaCroix melted into the crowd. Shosha stared at Miranda probingly. Miranda raised her chin. "Come, child," said Shosha finally. "We must talk." *** While he and Natalie were making the rounds of the guests--purposely avoiding some people--Nick took the opportunity to dart away and confront his best man. "Natalie was a little surprised with your gift," he said. LaCroix leaned against a white-and-gold marble pillar, a goblet of bloodwine in his hand. Nick frowned. "Already?" "Don't nag, Nicholas," said LaCroix succinctly. "You've been drinking far too much, lately. I... I worry." "Do you?" LaCroix swirled the red liquid in his glass. "How touching. It's straight, if that makes you feel any better. Étienne must have robbed a royal treasury to get Winter's services. I suggest you drink your fill tonight. As for my gift to your lovely wife..." "I thought it a little odd." "Oh?" "That's the kind of superstition even you tend to abide by, if only for sentimental reasons. You don't give a knife to a newlywed!" LaCroix handed Nick the glass. "Try it." Eying his master, Nick took a gulp, and his senses were flooded with the images. An avid historian, with a love of fishing and horseback riding. The scents of salty water, sand and leather. Nick could also detect a faint tinge of grapes and olives and the ghost of hot sun on his back, remnants of the vacation that the historian had taken to Tuscany, where he had doubtlessly crossed paths with Willem 'Winter' Rasna, LaCroix's blood broker and business partner. "Delicious," Nick proclaimed neutrally. "Acceptable." LaCroix slowly reached out and took the goblet back. "The knife is my last word, Nicholas. My last word on this subject." A flash of saffron lit Nick's eyes for a moment. "Your superstition. I assume you're referring to the one that says a knife as a wedding gift promotes a breakup of said marriage? As I thought. Good, Nicholas. It's refreshing to see you can be quick on the uptake sometimes." LaCroix took one step closer. Just one step. "I wish you all the luck in the world, my son. But on my terms. If your marriage to Natalie succeeds, it will be because allow it to. "Don't assume, Nicholas. Don't think that simply because I am allowing you to marry your mortal that I plan on relinquishing you. I'll share you... but I will not give you up. And you will not try to make me. That," he reminded his wayward child, "was our bargain." Nick searched his master's face with narrowed eyes. "You got what you wanted. You have Fleur. Our bargain is broken." "The old bargain is broken. The mortal in question now is Natalie, not Fleur. And that was the bargain, Nicholas--that I would allow you to live your life as you pleased, and that you would allow me to remain a part of it." "Why?" Nick shot back. "So you can continue to control me?" LaCroix ran a hand through his close-cropped white hair. "Let me put it to you this way, Nicholas: though he seems in the best of health, we know Kai to be quite ill, and even dying. In his condition, if he asked you to walk away, to remove yourself from his life--would you?" "But I'm not dying. And my relationship with Kai has nothing to do with my relationship with you." Something like disappointment flickered in LaCroix's eyes. "Nicholas," he murmured sadly, in a rare moment of confiding. "We are too old to be doing this dance. With all that you and I have been through, even when I questioned your motives and your sanity, I have never doubted your trust. Even when you despised me, you trusted me." He grasped Nick firmly by the side of the neck. "Why didn't you me?" "Because it's my own fault!" Nick hissed vehemently. He threw off LaCroix's arm. "Because it's something I have to live with." "But not for much longer." "And because I didn't need to hear you say 'I told you so.'" He shook his head stiffly. "I couldn't handle that. Not anymore." Nick composed himself, and straightened his tuxedo jacket. "I have to get back to my guests." Filial Bonds (14/?) "What do you want to know?" Miranda asked. Shosha Le Mort sat down on an overstuffed old couch, in the battered old room she had led Miranda into. Obviously this portion of the building had not been repaired yet; the furniture looked like it was sixty years old. "I want to know about you." "Why not simply take my blood?" "I said I wish to know you, not shoulder the pain of your burdens." So Miranda told her. Told her everything. The death of her mother, growing up in the ass-end of Hell, the Spensers, Manx, Teal Ramsey, the baby, Garek... And as she spoke, she could see tiny cracks forming in Shosha's stern façade. Very small--miniscule--the marks of shared suffering. "Why," she ventured, "is this so important to you?" Shosha absently tugged on a strand of her curling black hair, a gesture of deep disturbance. "Because... I have seen his heart broken before. "I knew what Divia was," she said gravely. "As a woman and as a mother, I knew. I was glad when Lucius killed her, though I grieved for him, for his pain. That was the first time. "I met him in Tuscany after he arrived there from Brabant, when Nicolas deprived him of your previous incarnation. That was the second time. "And I nursed him back to health after Nicolas nearly killed him. That was the third time. "I have no intention of seeing my brother's heart broken again, Miranda Thorn." "I have known pain. I have known grief. I have known horror and hate. Separately, and all at once. So it won't be," the mortal woman vowed determinedly. "Not by me." "I can see that now." "Then what do you have against me being married to your brother?" "Nothing, really." "Then why all this...?" Shosha Le Mort flashed her eyes in amusement. *** LaCroix leaned against his pillar and slowly rotated the glass in his hands. He wasn't... quite... certain... what to make of his son's reason for secrecy. A year or two ago, LaCroix wouldn't have believed him. But now... He loved his son past the point of dying; his children were his only weakness. More than once in his long life he had nearly been killed because his emotions towards his favorite son and daughter had overwhelmed his common sense. But he got so with his golden child at times. The pointless quest for mortality, the denial of his nature, the rejection of his master--it was enough to make LaCroix want to take a whip to the boy. But the source escaped him at present. He watched Nicholas moving easily among his guests. Generally, LaCroix stopped 'scourging' and 'chastising' his children when he thought they were old enough to be on their own. But he had always worried about Nicholas's maturity... <> Rubbish, of course. But still... "Observing the masses, Mr. LaCroix?" "And a roiling, boiling mass it is." Reese saw the glass of wine and frowned. "The toasting is supposed to come later," he pointed out, remembering the rumors he'd heard about Knight having a drinking problem and wondering if he'd just found the source. "If I might make a comment?" "Oh, by all means." "You don't look nearly old enough to have a forty-year-old son." "I beg to differ, Captain. I'm sixty-six years old." "You're kidding." "No, I'm not. Be my guest--check my records. If you haven't already done so." "And it doesn't bother Nick that his step-mother is young enough to be his sister?" "I'll admit, he wasn't thrilled with the idea at first. He certainly wasn't happy when we eloped. But he's warmed up to the concept. And he and Miranda are very fond of each other." Reese grunted. "What about your other sons?" "What about them?" "All three of your sons have different mothers--" "Oh, so you have been reading my records." "And none of them feel any resentment towards your wife? Do they even have contact with their natural mothers?" LaCroix sighed and turned to face the Captain more fully. "Captain Reese. All three of my sons' mothers are deceased. And I would thank you not to bring up the subject with any of them. Particularly Alexei. She died... rather traumatically. And he is a sensitive boy, as you may have noticed. "Whatever game you're playing with me, leave my sons out of it." *** When Nick saw them, he practically bolted across the floor, lifting Professor Lili Toeffler-Bäumer off her feet and spinning her around in a joyful hug. Then he did the same to Katherine Barrington. "Oh, Nick, congratulations! Where is she?" Natalie promptly disappeared into a-- "What's the collective name for an over-enthusiastic group of women?" Kai wondered. "A hug?" "Nick, I've got wonderful news for you!" Lili said excitedly. "I've found it." "You've--you've found it. You've found it?! Lili, that's fantastic!" "I've brought it with me." The middle-aged professor from Germany shrugged and grinned. "Call it a wedding present." "What's this?" asked Kai. Nick hugged his new wife tightly. "The Abarat." "Ah." Kai nodded, thinking. <> But Kai kept his mouth shut. While they were all talking, Natalie's eyes were drawn to two men, literally lurking in the shadows around the many gold-and-white pillars. They were dressed, like many of the other male guests, in dark suits and shirts, but the set of their faces, the way their mouths seemed to jut slightly around the upper lip... Their hooded eyes... "Oh my God, Nick," she whispered, clawing at his arm. "Look." Nick looked--and two splashes of pain blinded his left eye. "Shit," he hissed, doubling over and digging the ball of his palm into his eyeball. "Nick, are you..." Katherine touched his shoulder. "No, no. I'm okay." Nick straightened up, but the two men were gone. His left eyebrow was twitching like mad. Natalie was shaking. Kai tried to reassure her. "They're not here for you, Natalie. They're... they're just curious." Mentally, though, he sent one of them a barb. Kai growled under his breath. Terrence and his dark-auraed companion moved out of Kai's line of perception. Filial Bonds (15/?) "Lucius, I take it, did not explain to you the reason for my... evaluation of you." "He didn't say much on the subject," Miranda admitted, "no." Shosha shrugged her lean shoulders eloquently. "Marriage not being a focus of study for him, he may not know. Then again, with all the rigors he has subjected Nicolas to, he may indeed know, and simply think that portion of the Code does not apply to him." She raised an eyebrow. "Your father has explained the Code to you." "Some of it. But... the Enforcers stay away from Black Falls. I know to keep my mouth shut but other than that--" "And Kai makes no pretense of following it." She gestured for Miranda to sit down. "According to the Code, child, when a vampire takes a mortal wife or husband, the closest Family members must approve. His master, his siblings, his favorite fledglings. Without Family approval, the vampire risks ostracizing himself." "Like an arranged marriage." "Hmm... after a fashion. But the Family doesn't choose the partner. We only decide if the match is suitable. If not, the Enforcers may be summoned." "Isn't that a bit drastic?" "The Enforcers will enforce the Code, no matter what. If that means killing a vampire who has become careless, they will do it. If it means preventing a marriage, they'll do that as well." "The original multi-taskers." "Indeed." Miranda mulled over that. "So you have to see if the mortal is going to be a threat to the Community." "Yes." "But Lucien wasn't evaluating Natalie's suitability," Miranda protested. "He was trying to drive them apart." "True. But see what his actions accomplished. He not only proved their love genuine, he tested her commitment to the secrecy and protection of the Community, and she passed the test." "You can't honestly think that I--" "No, I don't. Now. But Lucius told me nothing of you. And he married even without telling Nicolas. That concerned me." "You could have asked Étienne." Shosha did not answer right away. At last, she said, "There are some subjects about which my husband can be less than objective. You are one such subject. You have always reminded him of... someone. You know who I am referring to?" "Yes," Miranda nodded. "I know who Étienne was." "Then you understand how his judgment can become clouded." "Yes." Then, "Did Lucien have to 'approve' of Étienne?" she asked curiously. "I know he was mortal when you met him." Shosha stifled a small laugh. "His amusement was approval enough. But when I asked him to bring Étienne across--although he was not Étienne then--yes, he did take some serious concern. Asking me if I knew what I was getting myself into, et cetera, et cetera. I was vastly annoyed at the time," she remembered ruefully. "So," said Miranda with a bit of sparkle, "when he eloped, you lost your chance to get back at him." Shosha eyed her for a moment. Then a smile slowly spread over her heart-shaped face and she laughed, a rich, throaty sound. "Does this mean I pass muster?" "You're getting there." Miranda looked at her watch. "The music's going to be starting soon." Shosha stood. "Will you come with me to get the children?" Miranda felt as though she had been bestowed with the highest of honors. *** Captain Reese crossed the floor to join Nick and Natalie, who were speaking with Nick's old captain, Joe Stonetree, a dark-haired man Reese didn't recognize, and a striking woman whom he thought looked very familiar. "Captain, I'd like you to meet Alain Barbour, an old friend of mine--" He paused while they shook hands politely. "--and Janette DuCharme, my..." Janette nodded. "My ex-wife." "A pleasure, Captain," Janette purred. She was dressed to the nines and in fine form, the kind of woman that made even a stable married man like Reese a little warm under the collar. "Miss DuCharme--" "Janette, please." "Have we met before?" Reese asked. The three vampires exchanged a warning look. "No, Captain," Nick said in an oddly resounding voice. "You've never met Janette before." "Are you sure? She looks so familiar..." "You've never met Janette before," Alain repeated, pressing the hypnotic suggestion further home. "You've never even seen her before." The waves of mental force pouring off all three vampires were so strong that Natalie and Stonetree--even though he didn't know what it was--both had to step back. Reese pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked. "Sorry about that, I... I could've sworn I... What was I saying?" "You were congratulating Alain and Janette," Nick said quickly. His siblings stared at him. "They just had a baby." "You were also saying something about how nice it is that Nick and Janette are on such good terms," Natalie added. "Yes," Janette said, playing along. "Nicolas is the godfather." "Well, congratulations all round," said Reese, shaking everyone's hand again. "Come on, Joe," said Stonetree. "I'm gonna go say hi to Myra Schanke, why don't you come with me?" "Triple hypnosis?" Natalie murmured when the captains had gone. "He's not going to suffer any long term effects, is he?" "Er... you may want to keep an eye on him," Janette admitted. Alain shrugged. "At least it keeps him out of the General's hair. Damn, though. LaCroix's really behaving himself tonight." "He'd better," said Étienne coming up beside their cluster. "I won't have any blood spilled in my ballroom." He brushed some imaginary dust from his immaculate cuffs. "If LaCroix wants to kill someone, he'll just have to go upstairs." Just then, Nick saw the two unfamiliar vampires again. Étienne followed his gaze. "Ah. I am sorry about them, Nicolas." "So they are Enforcers." "Yes." Étienne sighed huffily. "Nicolas, I don't want them here, but I don't have the authority to refuse them." "As long as they're not here about Natalie. And they behave themselves." To Nick's surprise, Étienne chuckled. "Actually... the only person who's causing any trouble is your captain." "What?" "He's making a complete nuisance of himself, asking questions about LaCroix and you and Shosha and the whole 'LaCroix family'... good thing the mortals are off-limits tonight, or would have shut him up permanently by now. "No, the Enforcers aren't interested in you two, not tonight. The one, I think, is something of a friend of Kai's." "A friend?" "Something of a friend." "The other one... the tall, thinner one. He's... off." "Off how?" "He... He makes my scars hurt." Étienne pursed his lips. "Hmm. I don't know anything about that. But I know why he's here. He's watching Janette." "Me?" Instinctively, Janette took a step back. Alain's arm came up around her shoulders. "From what I know of him, his name is Tenebres. He's responsible for the training of the Enforcers' Hunters. He's trying to glean what he can of Jesse from you." With a sudden, abrupt jerk, Alain was pulled out of the group. "You promised," Kai reminded him, pushing him up the stairs. Filial Bonds (16/?) Neither man was familiar with the bowels of the cavernous building, but all the hallways were crisscrossed with vibrations, some of which Alain knew well, so those were the ones he followed. The dim light played on the planes and wedges of his face, and the dust like a snowstorm created ghostly haloes around the both of them. Alain tapped on a door at the dead end of a hall. "Cherie," he called softly. "I know that you're in there." "Come in, then." Fifteen seconds later, Kai was face to face with his only living sibling. Alain hugged Serena loosely. "Too much of a draw, eh? Just couldn't stay away?" "Don't think I didn't try." Serena had fled Nicholas the night she was brought across, that much Kai knew. She had to have been strong as a newborn vampire to have survived even an hour without a master. She had stumbled into Alain, drawn to the first Family member she could find. He had taken her in, taught her, mitigated to some extent her pain and loneliness, and the two androgynous vampires had formed a sort of parent/child relationship. Kai reflected. She was watching him. "You're one of Nicolas's," she said accusingly. "I am. So are you." "What do you want?" "He just wants to talk, Serena," Alain scolded gently. "Just give 'im the benefit of the doubt. He threw a glass of wine in my face the other day." Apparently, that made Serena's estimation of Kai rise a notch or two. "Listen, I've got to get back to the reception. They're gonna be starting the music soon." He kissed Serena's forehead. "Soyez sages, okay?" * "C'est promis." * Kai stared at his... sister... for several minutes after the door had closed. "I think," he said finally, "that you and I have made out pretty well, considering. Nicholas doesn't exactly have the best track record with fledglings, does he?" "You got what you wanted." Kai raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Did I? I really didn't have any interest in becoming a vampire. I just wanted to live." "And you lived." Kai held out his wrist. "What?" "Smell it," he insisted, thrusting his wrist under her nose. "It's thin, Serena. It's poison to anyone but Nicholas. I'm dying. is dying. Because we tried to go back. Don't make our mistake." Kai growled and drew back. "I didn't intend to throw that in your face," he said. "But that's why I wanted to meet you. I've only got a few years left. I wanted to meet you before... well." "I understand. So. You've met me. Now what?" Kai lifted a pale eyebrow. "I'll leave. If you like." "Please. The fewer reminders of Nicolas, the better." Kai nodded. His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back. "Do you believe in fate?" "No." "Hmm." Kai's eyes were distant. He nodded once, sharply. "Goodbye." *** By the time he returned to the ballroom--odd in being located underground--the reception guests were being ushered to their seats. The round tables were clustered towards the back of the ballroom, with the musicians taking their places at the foot of the grand staircase, an arrangement that left the whole rest of the ballroom free for dancing. Kai skirted past the musicians and slid into his chair at the head table, next to his daughter. On her other side, LaCroix stood up to give the toast, raising his glass imperiously. "As the majority of you are aware, I am the unfortunate father of the groom..." A low undercurrent of laughter ran around the ballroom. Others gasped, shocked and scandalized. LaCroix grinned; now Nick's parentage would be all over Toronto before he and Natalie made it to the airport. "As you are also aware, Nicholas and I have not always been on the best of terms. At one time, I even opposed his relationship with Dr. Lambert. But, as always, Nicholas ignored me completely and did as he pleased and for once, his independence didn't blow up in his face." Nick snorted quietly. "A backhanded compliment if ever I heard one." "And so, a toast to you, Natalie, for showing me that Nicholas can stand on his own two feet." Natalie could've sworn the General's eyes were . "Provided he has someone to help him. Welcome to the Family." * Behave yourself. * I promise. [Note: the quote that LaCroix can't remember correctly should read "For whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth." Hebrews 12.6.] Filial Bonds (17/18) Étienne grabbed a microphone and bounded up a few steps. "Before we begin with the dancing and all the other shenanigans and goings-on... I would like to honor a request from the priest who performed Nicolas and Natalie's marriage ceremony." Nick and Natalie blinked in surprise. Étienne's face was bland and totally sober, but his trembling hands betrayed his excitement. "Nine months ago, on Christmas Eve, our Nicolas proposed to his lovely wife. And as they left the church, Father Rochefort heard the soft, jubilant sound of someone singing. I would like to sing that song for you now." He nodded to Tal. His son began to softly play his piano. Étienne opened his mouth, and the sounds that came out turned the very air to gold. "O holy night The stars are brightly shining It is the night Of our dear savior's birth." Grinning and slightly embarrassed, Nick took Natalie's hand. "I guess Father Rochefort's more of a closet romantic than I gave him credit for," Natalie whispered. "Fall on your knees O hear the angel voices O night divine O night, O night divine O night divine O night... O night divine." Étienne bowed gracefully. "As an old friend of Nicolas's once said, 'I wish you all the good that life can offer. Think of me kindly, and rest assured that no one would rejoice more to hear of your happiness.'" "Who was the old friend?" asked Natalie, curious. Nick winked. "Beethoven." "Come now, Nicolas, Natalie," Étienne laughed, "time to do your civic duty." With blunt, underhanded skill, LaCroix quietly shoved Nick out of his chair. Nick picked himself up, brushed himself off, glared at LaCroix (whose expression was one of disgusting innocence), and led Natalie out onto the dance floor. Étienne's voice resounded throughout the ballroom, sending shivers down every spine. "I close my eyes and there in the shadows I see your light You come to me out of my dreams across the night You take my hand though you may be so many stars away I know that our spirits and souls are one We've circled the moon and we've touched the sun So he will stay... "For always, forever Beyond here and on to eternity For always, forever For us there's no time and no space No barrier love won't erase Wherever I go I know in my heart you will be With me "From this day on, I'm certain that I'll never be alone I know what my heart must have always known That love has a power that's all its own "And for always, forever Now we can fly And for always, forever We will go on, beyond goodbye "For always, forever Beyond here and on to eternity For always, forever You'll be a part of me "And for always, forever A thousand tomorrows may cross the sky And for always, and always We will go on, beyond goodbye." *** After the first dance, other couples began slowly to make their way onto the dance floor. And LaCroix tapped his son's shoulder. "I believe it's my turn," he said. Nick raised an eyebrow at his new wife. Natalie looked past Nick, to where LaCroix was waiting patiently. So Nick reluctantly backed away. LaCroix stepped up, and Natalie forced herself not to cringe when his arm encircled her waist. Someone came up beside him. "Not too keen on letting your old man dance with Natalie?" Stonetree asked. Nick smiled wanly. "No, not really." "Did he actually try to stop your relationship?" "Vehemently." "Hey, Nick. Mind if I talk to you about something?" Curious, Nick allowed his former captain to beckon him behind a pillar. "That was a nice trick you pulled on Joe Reese before," he commented. Nick began fiddling with his cuff links. "It's not the first time I've seen you pull a stunt like that, either," Stonetree continued amiably. "Must come in real handy at times." "Joe, listen to me. You didn't see--" "Yeah, I did." He put a hand on Nick's shoulder. "I won't keep you from your guests. I just wanted to tell you, Nick: I don't know what you are. I've got my suspicions. But you've saved my life. You're a good guy and a great cop, and that's all I really need to know, isn't it?" Nick didn't know what to say. He could only stare at his former captain in open-mouthed amazement. Joe Stonetree nodded to him and walked away to find his wife. *** "Nicholas and I had a very interesting discussion earlier this evening," LaCroix commented conversationally. Natalie pretended to be interested. "Oh?" "Yes. We discussed his illness." Her pretend interest suddenly became real. "I see." "And your wedding gifts." LaCroix twirled her expertly. "I think it only right to warn you that my relationship with Nicholas may be somewhat strained for the next few months." "'Somewhat'?" LaCroix's expression warned her not to push her luck. "It's not unusual," he continued, choosing to ignore her sarcasm. "We have our 'love-hate' cycles." "More hate than love." "And I think we've come to the end of our current 'love' cycle. I won't repeat what I said to Nicholas regarding your new union. But I will remind you of our... conversation this January?" Natalie sighed. "I will not take advantage of your falling out," she promised testily. "I'm not that underhanded. Not like--" She bit her tongue quickly. LaCroix grinned. The song ended, and he bowed and kissed her hand. "A pleasure, as always, Doctor." He returned her to Nicholas and looked around for his own wife, but she was nowhere to be found. Neither was his sister. He spotted Étienne by the drinks table--the 'special' drinks table. "Where's Miranda?" LaCroix asked, joining him. "With Shosha." "Again? Should I be worried?" "I am." Étienne swallowed and explained. "They're discussing the fundamentals of rabbinic law." "Ah. Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go flee in terror." "Lucien, I don't blame you in the slightest." Étienne drained his glass and shrugged. "Be merry, mon frére. At least they're getting along." Étienne set down his glass and went back to his musicians and his microphone. LaCroix reached out for a glass--but his wrist was stopped by a strong, stark white hand. "No, Lucius." LaCroix looked up. "Allow me." The ancient vampire known as Winter poured his old friend a drink. "You're in much better trim than the last time I saw you," he commented in his deep, cultured voice. LaCroix inclined his head. "I thought I remembered seeing you there. Or hearing you. But I put it down to hallucinations." LaCroix took a small sip of his bloodwine, the very finest that the Winterborn Winery had to offer. "So you were the one who brought me to Paris so that Shosha could repair me." Winter's albino features, even paler than LaCroix's, were smooth and expressionless. "I shall neither confirm nor deny that accusation," he said jovially. LaCroix shook his head. "You may well have saved my life." "Well, it wouldn't be the first time." "And you took in one of my children." In tandem, both ancient men turned their heads and saw a short, slender, dark-haired woman, once known as Alyce Hunter. She was in animated conversation with Winter's other adopted fledgling, a bluff, rumpled fellow commonly called Ever. "Well," Winter shrugged. "Some of us are just made to take in strays. She's been far less trouble than Ever was. She's been a true joy, Lucius. Not a burden at all." "Even so. This is something I cannot repay you for," LaCroix pointed out, very humbly for him. "Indeed it is not." Winter raised his glass and clinked it against LaCroix's. "So don't try." Filial Bonds (18/18) Among the guests at Nick and Natalie's wedding, there were six young children. Amy Lambert, Jenny Schanke, the 'LaCroix boys', Alexei and Daniel, as well as the 'Le Mort' children, twelve-year-old Lori and five-year-old Aiden. They were all getting along swimmingly, despite the disparity in some of their ages, something that Nick was very grateful to see. He might have been wrong, but he thought he'd seen Alexei and Amy dancing together. "And I swear, Daniel and Jenny were utterly disappointed when we didn't smash the cake in each other's faces." "Well, it's the little things that make life worth living. Nick," Natalie continued, "Etienne's kids..." "They are mortal. Beyond that... I don't know. I think Aiden might actually be Shosha's responsibility." "Some people," said LaCroix, "are just made to take in strays." He folded his arms and looked at them under hooded eyelids. "If I remember the sequence of events correctly, isn't it time to throw some things?" He glanced at Grace Balthazar, the maid of honor, who confirmed his memory. "Come on, Nick," Natalie grinned. Nick nodded, looking around. He didn't see... "Hang on a few minutes, I need to find someone." *** He found Kai wandering through the unrenovated portion of the great building, which Nick had finally realized was an old theatre of sorts. he kicked himself. Kai was leaning his elbows on the faded velvet rim of a box seat, looking out at the dusty auditorium, gutted of nearly all its chairs. The badly warped stage was strewn with broken sets and props, and no chandelier hung from the hook in the ceiling. "It's a depressing sight, isn't it? But it'll be beautiful once Étienne's done with it." "Why didn't you tell me?" Nick asked, doing his best to keep the accusation out of his voice. Kai turned his ash-blond head a fraction. "How much difference would it have made?" "Did you know?" "Not really. I knew my mother came from Carreg, but that was all. She taught me the language, the legends, the songs, things that any immigrant woman would do. My mother--rest her lovely heart--had a favorite old story about an ancestor of ours who fell in love with a foreign knight and was killed because of it. I didn't know there was any significance to it. Until I met you." His eyes were distant, his mouth smiling wistfully. Nick touched his shoulder and Kai straightened and turned around, and looked him squarely in the eye. "If you can have your secrets, mon pere, why can't I? Some secrets should never be revealed." His expression altered subtly. There was a tilt to his head, a wry quirk to his mouth, and a knowing sparkle in his snow-grey eyes. Nick's breath stilled in his throat. "" Kai said in gentle, lyrical Old Welsh, "