Summary: Nick and Schanke investigate a deadly home invasion. Is it
a case of self defence or murder? Can Nick tell Natalie about his
family and the violent beginnings of his vampire life? What happened
when Nick went back to his homeland forty years later to see his
remaining family? 

This is fic takes place a bit after my first one “Pure”. It is
definitely a sequel, and you’ll probably need to read the other one
to understand this one. I got such a nice reaction to the first one
that I decided to write this one. There are spoilers for “Be my
Valentine” and “Fallen Idol”. I tried to write it in an episode
format again. This story is probably a mature, because of some
violence, and non-adult (sorry I don’t write adult, but please read
my story anyways). I don’t claim to be any great historian, so I was
a little scared of writing a flashback. I loved the comments last
time, and I’d appreciate any comments this time.

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me they belong to
James Parriot and Sony, I just borrowed them. 

Permission granted to archive this story wherever you want, just
leave my name on it, please.

Kin

By E.S. Nelson

Chapter [1/14]: On the Gardner Expressway

“Myra says if you want to impress a woman you have to get creative,
and do the unexpected,” Schanke said, peering over a submarine
sandwich at his partner. “I haven’t quite figured out what she meant
by that. After all, I though my plan to go to the Breeder’s Cup would
be a great surprise. Places a few bets, have dinner in a swanky
clubhouse, but no-ooo. Did you know they even have little TVs so you
can watch the track while you eat?” Schanke took a large mouthful of
pastrami and chewed audibly.

“Sounds perfect, Schank. I can’t believe that Myra would not find
that a dream come true.” Nick laughed. He knew that Schanke had the
best intentions, but the big detective sure had a strange way of
expressing them sometimes. Ever since Schanke had heard the news of
Nick and Natalie’s burgeoning relationship, the cop had been giving
out advice. Nick took it in stride, though. Finally, there was
something he could discuss with his partner.

“Go ahead and laugh partner, but let me tell you women are strange
creatures. What is on the outside ain’t necessary what’s happening
inside.” Schanke waved his finger around his ear in a crazy gesture
then took another bite of his sub. Between chews, he added, ”If she
says, Does the pattern on this make me look fat? Do yourself a favour
and don’t answer!” 

“O.K., I won’t say a thing,” Nick promised, his eyes scanning the
road ahead. 

The two detectives were on their way to check out a burglary gone
wrong. A youth had forced his way into home on Baker Street, when an
elderly woman at the residence had gone to answer the door. Her
husband had heard her scream and had retrieved a hunting rifle. The
perpetrator’s body now lay cooling on the living room floor.

“Good. Listen to the guy who’s been happily married for fifteen
years. You could stand to learn a little from me you know.” The
detective pushed the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth with a
look of pure satisfaction. “I know many, many things about pleasing
the other sex.” Schanke winked. 

Nick remembered back to married life. Sure, what he and Janette had
shared for almost a hundred years wasn’t exactly the same, but it had
similar elements. He remembered a discussion or two around the
subject of Janette’s wardrobe. The boundaries, however, were much
looser than a mortal marriage. It was the sexual nature of vampire
feeding. 

At the beginning of his vampire life, Nicholas had been voraciously
hungry. His mate and he had hunted together at times, but they fed
separately, locked in an intimate embrace with the victim until the
climax of death. Nicholas would hunt alone as well, an addict for the
rush of feeding off human prey. There was no calm in the first years
as a vampire; the drive for sustenance had been continuous. Even when
Nicholas had just fed, he would feel the hunger start to bloom. 

It made him shiver now to think about it. Nick didn’t know how to
share those darker memories with Natalie. Like a fledgling, he’d
hungered madly for her blood not long ago. His desires had been so
painfully recent, he remembered them well. 

Valentines Day at Azure had made things spin out of control. He had
come so close to taking the object of his affection, when Lacroix had
goaded him. The ancient had promised to kill Natalie as payment for
the loss of his own love, Nicholas’s sister Fleur. Nick had had to do
some quick thinking. 

Pretending not to love Natalie had been extremely difficult.
Brushing his lips to her ivory neck (the killer in himself thinly
held back) and trying to convince Lacroix that he could turn the
petite doctor, had teased the darker side of the younger vampire to
the point of madness. 

Nick had hungered at the mere thought of the beautiful coroner
afterward. He’d almost killed her once at the loft. And, then there
was the incident at the Human Touch warehouse. Nick had gone to stop
a crazed vampire from slaughtering young men, and had brought himself
neatly into a trap.

Nick shivered a bit at the thought of the burning chemicals that the
crazed one had injected into his skin. Swallowing a bottle of
Natalie’s garlic pills would have had a milder effect. The waves of
nauseating pain had caused him to lose consciousness. The detective
only remembered pieces of the rest of the ordeal, but what he did
recall terrified him. 

Nick thoughts wandered back to that night when Natalie drained his
infected blood and replaced it with her own. The sensations of the
coroner’s life-giving blood shocked his system with energy and
pleasure. Part of Nicholas had craved to possess the petite coroner
for years and now she was giving of herself freely. The vampire
wanted more. His eyes shot open, and he looked at Natalie with a red-
tinged glare. With his instincts in command, he could only manage a
snarl.

There was no rational thought, no whispers of conscience. Nick
struck the doctor with lightning speed and sucked greedily at her
neck. The need was far too great, and he just couldn’t seem to get
enough. His mind swam with feelings of respect for life from her, but
he could not even stop for a tinge of guilt. There was also love, and
courage, as well as the sadness of loss. All of these things made up
Natalie Lambert.

It took only a few seconds before the seemingly endless fountain of
vibrancy began to wane. Nicholas was content to drink to the last
drop. His heart and his instincts were in agreement on this. This was
what humanity felt like. He needed to feel this. He’d tried to
emulate it, but now he knew he wasn’t even close. 

Abruptly, cold hands gripped Nicholas’s shoulders, and he felt
himself jerked roughly from his prey. Icy rage swept through him.
He’d finally gotten a glimpse of humanity only to have it ripped
away! He brought a burning red glare up to his master, and let out a
hiss of displeasure. Why had his master interrupted his feeding? He’d
been doing what Lacroix had always wished him to do. He was taking
what he desired.

Lacroix cuffed the younger vampire, sending Nicholas to the floor.
The sharp pain of impacting the concrete shocked the vampire back
into reality. Nicholas looked down at his victim. Another part of him
emerged, took hold and suppressed the killer. He saw her for the
first time with his whole self. He noticed the pallor of her skin and
her glassy, unfocused eyes. And, then there was the most deafening
sound of all. Nothing. No heartbeat. “Natalie!” he gasped in horror.

6666666666

“Nick? Nick! Red Light!” Schanke shouted over at his partner.

Nick snapped back to the present. He saw that they were headed
towards the busy intersection at great speed, and he used his quick
reflexes to slam on the brakes. The hulking green Cadillac protested
with a groan and its brakes locked in defiance. Nick swerved to avoid
a cube van in front of him. The car went sharply to the left where
its front end connected with the concrete support of the overpass
above. Cadillac’s hood crumpled on the driver’s side with the force
of the impact. 

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [2/14]: Flashback - The Duchy of Brabant, 1267 A.D.

The pain in Nicholas’s chest was unbearable. The blade had passed
through him, puncturing his lung. It burned his flesh like fire, as
if it had been dipped in holy water. Blood tears rimmed his eyes with
pain but he refused to let them fall. To show any signs of his nature
among these mortals would be suicide. 

The bustle of men and woman in the market had ceased. All eyes were
locked on the slick-haired, bearded man leaning over the odd blond
nobleman. 

“Quel effet cela vous fait-t-il? (What does it feel like?) You do
feel pain, eh demon? My heart is glad of this. Are you quite
terrified yet? Maybe you will understand what it a bit of what they
felt when you came to them each night!” The man’s hazel eyes held no
hint of emotion. 

Nicholas felt his body responding to the damage it had received. The
wound in his chest was already starting to heal, but very slowly.
With this healing came a price of course, one which he was prepared
to pay with pleasure. Hot hunger roared to life within him. 

Not yet, Nicholas thought. Quelling his instincts took immense
effort. His hunger was largely the bigger part of himself as a young
vampire. It was all he could do to appease it most days. As if on
cue, his need pounded at him again and he moaned.

“Are you dying? How delightful!” the hazel-eyed man laughed. He
pulled at something hidden in the leather pouch around his waist, all
the while holding the burning tip of his bloodied blade to Nicholas’s
chest. “I know their names. I took the time to know their names.
Isabelle, Adèle, Geneviève, and my Mado….You touched my Mado! I vowed
dear un—“he stopped, he couldn’t say it, “bête (beast), to avenge
those you took for your hunger. I do not care for any words you might
have to convince me to be merciful!” The man spit at the creature
lying near death on the pavement.

Nicholas closed his eyes. His heart throbbed twice in panic.
Precious blood flowed from his wounds and pooled onto the dirt. His
whole body screamed to take.

6666666666

Nick awoke from a horrible dream which left his body humming with
the beginnings of hunger. He even imagined that he smelled his own
blood as he had that evening so many centuries ago. The blond
detective could hear the rapid thudding of his partner’s heart. He
sucked in a calming breath. A second later, he forced open his blue
eyes to look around. 

“Oh man, Nick! Are you O.K.?” Schanke called from his position on
the passenger side. He couldn’t move. The seatbelt had locked during
the crash, keeping in him firmly in the car. Thank god, he thought.
He turned to his partner, and noticed a large, open gash on the other
detective’s forehead. He blinked twice, for he thought he saw it
visibly grow smaller. 

Nick could only manage a small grunt. His head hurt like hell and
his vision was blurry. He must have hit his head on the steering
wheel. One finger on his brow confirmed that he had received a nasty
cut in the process. The blood had run down his forehead, on to his
face. 

Schanke stared at his bloodied partner. Suddenly, there was a rap at
his window. The dark haired detective forced his eyes towards the
sound. A small, black man in a brown delivery suit peered into the
Caddy. Schanke rolled down the window. 

“Are you alright?” the man said, poking his head through the open
window. “I’ve called the police, and they’re on there way.” 

Almost as quickly as the man had spoken the words, a police cruiser
came into sight. The car had pulled to the curb, and two uniformed
officers rushed to the scene. The ambulance arrived quickly after in
a blaze of flashing lights.

Nick tried to avoid the paramedic’s scrutiny with a suggestion, but
he found that he could not summon his power. His head was swimming
from the accident, and it left his thoughts muddled and his body
weak. He’d been feeding very poorly since the berserker case, trying
to settle his guilt a bit about attacking Natalie. Now with the blood
loss from the accident, he was beginning to feel drained and truly
hungry. 

Before the vampire could argue, he was pulled out of the car, put in
a neck brace and transferred to the back of the ambulance. He saw
Schanke being helped inside to join him.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [3/14]: At the Mercy General Hospital

“They are looking him over right now. They don’t think anything is
broken but they want to make sure. The doctor said he seems fine.”
Schanke explained to a frantic Natalie. “They asked me if I wanted to
contact Nick’s next of kin and let them know about Nick. Does Nick
even have a next of kin?” 

The petite coroner didn’t answer. She was beside herself with worry.
From the scene of the Andersen shooting that Schanke and Nick were
supposed to be en route to before the accident, she’d sped directly
to the hospital. The staff here in the emergency department did not
respect her medical background. When she’d asked to see Nick, the
triage nurse had curtly informed her that there would be no visitors
until the doctor’s examination was complete. Now, Natalie was left to
twist the ties of her large beige overcoat while she sat in the
waiting room like Schanke.

The coroner hated the Mercy hospital ever since her grandmother had
withered away in it ten years ago. She hated its mint green corridors
with their stainless steel trim, and she hated the sickeningly, sweet
smell of disinfectant that permeated every inch of every floor. Above
all she hated the threat that the experts in this hospital posed to
Nick. It wouldn’t take to many tests to discover that he was not as
human as he seemed.

If Natalie’s thoughts were running wild, then Schanke’s were not
much better. He remembered the paramedics in the ambulance and what
they had said about Nick. They had set the big detective on a
stretcher opposite his partner with a heavy wool blanket to recover
from the chills of mild shock. Schanke noticed his blond partner look
up at his surroundings with droopy eyes and puzzlement.

“Holy shit Roy, either my gauge is not working or guy’s bp is way
out of whack,” Schanke heard an astonished, young sandy-haired
paramedic say after looking at the equipment he had fastened on
Nick’s upper arm.

“Let me try,” said the other with a tone of disbelief. Schanke
watched through half-slit eyes as the paramedic called Roy fastened
the cuff on Nick’s other arm and squeezed until the cuff inflated.
After a few seconds of looking at the blood pressure gauge, he let
out a whistle. “This guy should be dead if that thing is right.”

That last line echoed through Schanke’s mind.

6666666666

“I am fine, really. Stop looking at me that way.” Nick said to his
partner, as Natalie, Schanke and he left the hospital. “No cuts, no
bruises, just a sore neck, o.k.?” Nick rubbed the back of his neck
for Schanke’s benefit. His body ached, but for a different reason. He
was glad to be rid of this place, and he looked forward to the liquid
comforts of his loft. 

Without blood, Nick’s thoughts had taken a while to clear. When
they’d rushed him here, he had begun to piece together what was
happening. He had gathered the last of his energy to “convince” the
nurses and emergency room doctor everything was normal. 

Nicholas had never been in strong command of the mental abilities of
the vampire and in his weakened state he wasn’t sure he could pull it
off. But, miraculously he had. Now, his body screamed at him for
sustenance in return. Nicholas was glad of the dim light of the
parking lot for he was sure there must be tinge of green in his eyes.

“Yes, I heard. I know the feeling.” Schanke replied, rubbing his
hand on his neck. “I’m just concerned that’s all. Myra sends her best
wishes too. She couldn’t stay long with Jenny.” Schanke said, his
voice soft. He turned his eyes away momentarily. No cuts, no bruises,
his mind repeated. It had been a long night. He didn’t want to think
anymore. The big detective took a calming breath, stopped all
irrelevant thoughts swamping his brain, looked back at his partner
and said, smiling “Did they give some of the good stuff I got?”

Nick nodded and smiled. Tonight had been a rough night. He was glad
that Schanke was in good humour about everything. The vampire would
have never been rid of his guilt if the other detective had been
seriously injured.

“Well boys,” Natalie said, gesturing to her blue sedan in the
visitor pay parking, “Your ride awaits.”

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [4/14] Flashback – the Duchy of Brabant, 1267 A.D.

“She will await you comfortably. I will take good care of her until
your return,” the young stable boy stated to the nobleman in front of
him. Nicholas handed the reins of Tonnerre (Thunder), his favourite
travelling companion, to the boy. The stable hand gently stroked the
white stallion’s velvety nose, and the horse responded with a nudge
for more. Nicholas smiled. As he left, the knight knew he had left
his friend in good care.

Leuvain, in Duchy of Brabant, was ever the bustling city Nicholas
remembered it to be. As a boy, he had accompanied his father from
their rural estate on family business with the duke, Henri,
Nicholas’s uncle. This walled city had stood proud through countless
battles. It was the keystone of the Duchy, and one of the main
centres to which many had returned after many civil feuds had
practically laid waste to the land. The people of Brabant took
shelter within its solid fortifications. Now in his current life,
Nicholas needed only a few words to open its locked, iron gates. 

Nicholas remembered the last time he’d gone to Leuvain before
joining the crusades in Jerusalem. Henri de Brabant had looked upon
his nephew so proudly, not so much for the knight’s religious
mission, but for the young one’s bravery. The duke had promised
Nicholas a fief upon his return. 

Nicholas knew Henri had granted many such tracts of land to soldiers
who agreed to fight for him. And, this was an opportunity for Henri
without risk. With Nicholas, there would be the knight’s bond of
loyalty to duke, and the bond of family as well. 

Nicholas walked through the streets of Leuvain, reminiscing until he
reached the residence he was looking for. André le Tisserand,
Nicholas’s nephew, had a modest house. It was certainly nothing
befitting of the boy’s heritage, the vampire thought. Still, it
glowed with soft, inviting lamplight. 

The blond chevalier longed to knock at the door. In the shadows, he
stood instead. His fear held him back. He had not seen his nephew
André in two decades, and the terror in the boy’s eyes at their last
meeting was burned into his soul.

André had only been a boy of twelve when his mother, Fleur, had
passed away. She’d married a distant cousin, Richard. It had been
arranged by the duke, Henri, after years of waiting of Nicholas to
return and claim not only the land promised to him, but also the
tracts the boy’s late father had overseen. Fleur was wed quickly so
that the lands would stay within the control of a de Brabant. 

Fleur had written Nicholas of her humdrum life as Richard’s wife in
the first years of marriage. Then, Richard had died suddenly on a
hunting trip not ten years later. His horse had bolted unexpectedly,
throwing him off and breaking his neck. Gradually the joy that filled
Fleur’s being began to drain out of her until she wasted away, became
ill and died. 

It was Fleur’s dying request that Nicholas care for her son. She had
seen Nicholas’s vampire condition years before. When he had shown her
the eyes of flame and sharp teeth of the vampire, she looked at him
the same as she always had. There certainly was no fear or loathing.
Part of her charm was that she always believed in the good in people.
She saw beauty in everything. 

Nicholas felt great pangs of sadness for making his sister forget
about what he had become. He was convinced she would have accepted
his decision to enter this new life, but he could not leave her with
any memories. Lacroix had expressed an interest in the pretty, petite
woman when Nick, Janette and Lacroix had come to pay a visit to the
de Brabant manor. Nicholas had wanted to protect his sister fiercely
from a life with the tyrannical general.

After Nicholas’s hypnotic suggestions, the pretty daughter Thomas de
Brabant believed nothing had changed in her brother. Fleur was
convinced the blond crusader was the same hero she had worshiped in
childhood, brave and true. Nicholas had always cared for her and
protected her. In later years, she when lay dying, she made her
decision to ask Nicholas to care for her son. What better father
figure for her son than her loving brother?

Now, Nicholas stood in the shadows beside André’s small home. This
boy had changed the vampire over the years. When the lad had caught
him feeding on peasant women in the basement of the de Brabant manor
only weeks after the vampire had taken the boy into his care,
Nicholas had been ashamed. Gradually shame festered to guilt; a guilt
that rubbed him raw at times. Nicholas still enjoyed his life as a
vampire, but lately his feedings had not been as rapturous as they
once were.

Why I am here, Nicholas thought as he waited. Lacroix said that the
young vampire enjoyed tormenting himself of late. What would Lacroix
think of his son, pressed against a dark corner? The general would
rant about the folly of holding on to the past no doubt. You must
lose this guilt you feel or there will be consequences, Nicholas
could hear him say. 

Abruptly, Nicholas thoughts were interrupted by a small girl coming
down the street with quick speed. 

Madeleine looked back to see if the Roland was still behind her. No
one was there. At least this time she had been able to outrun that
beast! The bully had thought he had her back on DesRoches but she had
quickly slipped from his grasp. Madeleine slowed her run to a walk as
she neared her home. Best not to let papa see how frightened she was.
He would already be upset at her lateness and the loss of her flute.
She did not want to give him another reason to lecture about the
importance of being home before dusk.

Madeleine did not wish to enter just yet. Perhaps a flower or two
from the window box might soften papa a little, or at the very least
maman might appreciate some marguerites. She looked around to see if
anyone was about. There was a flicker of light to the left. A big
boot with a large, square silver buckle came out of the shadow,
followed by a man. 

Madeleine bolstered up some courage to look at the man in the fancy
boots and coat who now stood before her. “Qui est là?” (Who is
there?), she demanded. 

Nicholas looked at her with a broad, genuine smile. Then, he
crouched down. This one could not be more than eight, the vampire
thought. Looking into her clear, blue eyes (which mirrored his own)
Nicholas said, “Personne d’importante (no one important), young one.
Your father frets for your safety. He has been calling for you. He
may come out at any time.”

Madeleine’s brows knit together with a mixture of fear and slight
embarrassment. She chewed on her lip for an instant and said, “I am
late. Papa worries needlessly.” Then, she looked at the stranger’s
halo of bright golden locks, and said, “My flute was stolen. It is
precious to me. It is the only thing that I have of my grandmaman.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. “I tried to
get it back, but I could not!” she sobbed.

Nicholas was charmed immediately by this brave little honey haired
one. He had no doubt that this was André’s child. The well of emotion
he saw from this one was much like that of her grandmother, Fleur.
Fleur had had floods of tears the time she had misplaced her beloved
flute. 

Fleur’s flute! Nicholas had had it carved for her as a gift on her
tenth birthday. It was a beautiful instrument. Fleur had learned
every melody she could, and had even created her own. “Who took it?”
the vampire asked, taking the young girl’s hand.

Madeleine looked up at the stranger with the widest eyes. “Ro—“, she
started to say.

“Mado! Madeleine! Qu’est-ce que tu fais dans le cour?” (What are you
doing in the courtyard) a female voice called from behind. 

Both Nicholas and Madeleine turned to face the round, red-haired
woman in the doorway. Madeleine was the first to speak. “Maman, I was
on my way inside. I just stopped to talk to this monsieur—“the girl
started to explain.

“You are never to talk to strangers Mado, especially at this hour!
Come in at once!” The woman left no room for argument. She grasped
the child by the ear and turned toward the house, stopping at the
archway of the door. Realizing her manners, the woman turned toward
the stranger standing in the courtyard. “Monsieur,” she said, nodding
goodnight to Nicholas before she pulled her child inside the home.

Nicholas squinted briefly when the large cross around the woman’s
neck glinted in the lamplight. Symbols of redemption made his heart
pick up with terror and drained him of his strength. He did his best
to mask any effects the cross had on him. He managed a smile and a
nod to the both of them, then he watched them go inside..

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [5/14]: Nick’s Loft, Present day

Nick sat down at his piano and played softly. He didn’t remember the
name of the melody anymore. Un Rayon de la Lune (Moonbeam) or Le Rêve
Doré (Golden Dream) or something, he thought. Fleur could always
think of such fanciful titles for her tunes. He could still see her
in the rose garden caressing each note she played out of that flute.

Nick had taken the next few days off to recover from the accident.
Several bottles of blood had helped. Human. He’d needed it. He was
feeling better a day later, but Natalie had convinced him to take the
whole week off. He was proud of the control he’d had the night of the
accident. Not once had he slipped, even when the hunger had risen.
Maybe the poison Galois had injected into his system had lessened the
beast (although he doubted it)—or maybe it was Natalie.

Nick had not taken human blood from the source in decades. He had
forgotten how wonderfully soothing it was, and Natalie’s blood was
the ultimate balm. The purity of her soul reminded him of his goal of
humanity. He’d forgotten many things about being human long ago when
Lacroix pulled him into the life of a vampire. He had enjoyed every
minute Natalie could spend with him while he recovered. He loved her
smile, her laugh, her every human gesture.

The ringing of the phone abruptly cut off Nick’s reverie. The blond
detective moved to the table that held the phone and picked up the
receiver. “Yah, Knight,” he said.

“Nicky boy! How’s it going?” Schanke said on the other end.

“Hey, Schanke. I’m fine. How are you these days?” Nick grinned and
added, “Still, recovering from your Tylenol haze?” He remembered
Schanke’s phone call several days ago. The balding detective had
proceeded to tell him about every neck muscle that had been pulled in
the accident.

“I’m clean and free partner and back at work. I called because we’ve
got an interesting twist to the Andersen burglary shooting.” 

“What? Why are you on that case? I thought Greenwood and Wright had
that one now.” Nick answered. 

“Yah well, they closed it. According to their report—“Nick could
hear a rustle of papers, then Schanke continued, “—64 year old
Fredric Andersen shot James McCreed, a 24 year old Caucausian male,
when the younger man attempted a home invasion at the Andersen’s home
on 5673 Baker Street. Nicola Andersen, wife of Fredric, stated that
McCreed forced open the door, breaking the chain link safety lock,
when she had gone to answer it.” Schanke stopped for a second.

Nick could hear the loud sipping sound of Schanke’s straw reaching
for the last drops of a beverage. “And?” Nick asked impatiently.

“And, that’s when Mrs. Andersen says McCreed pushed her onto the
living room floor and made threats of killing her. He told her he had
a knife, Nick. Fred Andersen heard the threats from McCreed from his
den, got a rifle from a gun cabinet, and shot the perp. It sounds
pretty neat and tidy, I agree, and Nat’s report backs it all up.” 

“The coroner’s report says that McCreed was killed instantly by one
bullet to the head fired at close range. Anderson admits to firing
the gun at McCreed. Andersen’s fingerprints were found on a rifle,
which forensics matched to the bullet that killed McCreed. Gunpowder
residue on Andersen’s clothing also links Andersen, and the rifle was
given to police by Andersen when they arrived at the crime scene, and
is properly registered in his name.”

“Sounds like an open and shut case to me.” Nick replied.

“That’s what Greenwood and Wright thought. They wrote in their
report that Andersen had believed his wife and himself to be in
danger and had fired on McCreed in self defence, but they also
reported that McCreed did not have a weapon on him. They figured the
perp must have been bluffing about having a knife.” 

“This is where things get interesting, Nick. I got a call from a
youth who knew McCreed. This guy says he was with perp that night,
and that he knows the truth, but—“Schanke paused, “he wants to talk
to you.” 

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [6/14]: At the Police Precinct

The precinct was buzzing with non-stop energy just as Nick left it a
week ago. The blond detective pushed open the small door to the
bullpen, and made his way around the office to his desk. He could see
Schanke looking tiredly at the mountain of papers in his in-box.

Nick moved past his partner and sat down in his chair. He noticed a
pile of papers to rival his partner’s in his own in-box, and sighed.

“Nick!” Schanke greeted his partner. “I talked to Cohen about the
Andersen burglary. She agreed to let us look into this case if the
witness has anything interesting to say.”

“Well, that’s good, but I think we should be cautious,” Nick
answered. “I mean, it’s one thing to reopen a case that you’ve
closed, but it’s another to reopen the case of other detectives.
Greenwood and Wright covered for us when we were out, and now it
could look as if we’re checking up on them.” 

Nick recognized the case file as the Andersen shooting on his desk.
He picked it up and opened it.

“Yah, I know. I’ll keep it under wraps. The kid that phoned calls
himself Jazz, short for Jaswinder Palmar. This guy knows McCreed from
the police academy. McCreed was a recruit, Nick!” Schanke said with
surprise. “Palmar gave me a number you can call him at.” The big
detective pushed aside the papers across his desk, retrieved the
notepad he written on, and passed it to Nick. 

“How’d he get my name?” Nick asked.

“Nick, I get my name in paper every other week, Knight,” Schanke
said with a weak laugh, and added with mock sincerity, “I have no
idea.”

Nick frowned a little. He did not like to draw attention to himself,
and sometimes his life as a cop did just that. There had been a write
up in the National Inquisitor several weeks ago, highlighting how he
had faced down the “Stalker of Toronto” in the Human Touch warehouse,
and shot the lunatic before the man could harm Schanke. The press had
been all over that case from the start. 

Nick just hoped no one important had been reading. Lacroix had
assured him that everything, with regards to the Enforcers, had been
taken care of. The roman general and his son had attended a meeting
with two elder Enforcers just recently over berserker matter. Nick
had known they would come.

The ancients had seemed very satisfied with the way in which Nick
had dealt with the berserker. They had even turned a blind eye to
Natalie. Her knowledge of vampires had helped to save the younger
vampire. Both elders had agreed that she could live, for now.

There had been one condition to the Enforcers’ understanding. All
Nicholas’s tainted blood was to be given to them, including the
samples from the litovuterine experiment, as well as any papers about
Nicholas’s condition. Natalie was tearful when Nick came by the
morgue to collect her diary and vials. 

The Enforcers themselves had managed to track down Galois’s
residence in Toronto and confiscate his copy of the Abarat. That book
had been outlawed by the Enforcement council for nearly five
centuries. 

When Nick had turned Nat’s research over to the vampire police,
they’d left him with one clear message. Stop trying to go back or
else. Nick half listened to their threat. As Lacroix had often said,
the younger vampire was as determined as he was stubborn. Nick wished
he’d had just five minutes with that ancient book.

“Nick, hello?!” Schanke called, waving his hand in front of his
partner’s face.

Nick blinked, bringing his eyes to focus on the dark-haired
detective. “Sorry Schanke,” he said sheepishly, “I’ll call the kid
and arrange a meeting.”

“Too late, he’s on line three,” Schanke with an annoyed look.

6666666666

Schanke parked his brown Ford and entered the Tim Hortons on
McCallum St., with Nick close behind. Nick had surprised him when the
blond detective insisted they take Schanke’s car instead of the
courtesy car the mechanic had given him. The bigger detective was
enjoying being in the driver’s seat tonight. Nick almost never let
him drive the Caddy. How much longer until the Caddy got repaired? It
would take a mint to fix that thing. 

Nick followed Schanke into the donut shop. There were better places
to meet an informant, he thought. This certainly seemed like one of
Schanke’s ideal meeting places, however. The vampire wondered how
long Schanke had been on the phone with Palmar before passing the
phone to him. 

There were very few people at the tables. Palmar recognized Nick
immediately and waved. The blond detective cringed a little. He was
use to his anonymity. It had always protected him. Nick sighed, and
moved toward the young East-Indian man. “Jazz, I assume?” Nick said
with a smile in place, and offered his hand.

Jazz Palmar rose a little, and shook Nick’s hand. “Detective
Knight,” he said smiling back. “I’ve read about you in the paper. You
did a brave thing, rescuing your partner like that.” He gestured for
Nick to sit down.

Nick snorted softly at Palmar’s praise and sat down. “You told my
partner you had some information for us,” he said, changing the
subject.

At that moment Schanke came up and sat down on the chair beside
Nick. The guilty look on the balding detective’s face did not escape
Nick’s attention. In his left hand, Schanke held a maple donut. Nick
smirked and introduced him to Palmar. Then, the blond detective urged
the young man to continue.

“I met Jimmy at the academy. He was from Calgary, and I was from
Whitehorse. We both didn’t know Toronto too well, so we had something
in common from the start. Jimmy was a real decent guy,” Palmar
explained.

“You said that you were with Jimmy the night of the robbery,” Nick
said.

“Yah, we were on our way to a Leafs game, when he told me he had to
stop at Andersen’s,” Palmar said.

“Why did he want to stop there?” Nick asked.

“He said that Andersen owed him some money, and that the guy had
stopped answering his phone.” Palmar explained.

“How did he know Andersen?” Schanke asked this time, putting his
donut down uneaten.

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty bothered that night, but I didn’t
ask, you know.” Palmar put a hand on his forehead. His body sagged
with guilt. “Now after everything, I guess I should have asked.”

“Can you tell us what happened when you got to Andersen’s house?”
Nick said.

“Jimmy went up the steps to the entrance and I followed. Andersen
opened the door a crack to see who it was. He was furious when he saw
Jimmy. He tried to slam the door in our face, but Jimmy forced it
open.” Palmar shivered a little. “Jimmy went in, but I stood at the
door. Andersen was really pissed off. He started yelling.”

“What did he say?” Schanke asked.

“He cursed a whole lot of what sounded like German, I think. That’s
when I’d had enough. I told Jimmy I was leaving and that he should
come too. I didn’t want trouble at the academy for trespassing on
Andersen’s property. Jimmy didn’t budge, though. So,” Palmar
hesitated, then added, “I left.” The young man’s voice cracked with
emotion on the last word.

Nick could see the tension on the young man’s face. “Did you notice
Andersen’s wife at when you were in the house?” he asked.

“No. She wasn’t there.”

Schanke and Nick looked at each other for a moment.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [7/14]: At the Police Precinct

Jazz Palmar had given the detectives very few, other tidbits of
information. Schanke dropped Nick off at the precinct to look at
Andersen’s phone records a half hour later, while the he went to the
academy to see if he could talk to anyone there. Nick was a little
sore that he had been stuck with the less interesting legwork.

Finding nothing in Andersen’s records, after several hours of
searching, to link Andersen to McCreed, Nick yawned and decided to
give up. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time for a
change of scenery. He would look at McCreed’s phone records tomorrow.
Nick dug into his pocket for the little key the repair shop had given
him, shuddered a little, and left the precinct.

The vampire stood out in the middle of the police parking lot and
stared at it. The little purple Geo almost seemed to smile back, with
its large circular lights and rounded mouth of a hood. Nick sucked in
his pride and got in the vehicle. His pushed the seat back as far as
possible, but his legs were still cramped. The engine turned over and
hummed with a perky purr. Pulling out of the precinct parking, Nick
snapped on the radio, turning the dial until he heard the voice of
Lacroix:

“Way before our time, wealthy nobles would feud over lands in a
useless game of chess. With power and pawns, they would fight until
one declared himself the winner and moved in to claim the spoils of
victory. Then, just as quickly, another would come and rip everything
away. The countryside was razed and torn and people died in the
masses. And, for what? No one can hold on to something forever.
Someone will always be around to take it away.”

6666666666

The Raven was a mass of dancers. The nightclub was always popular on
Saturdays. Nick pushed passed several writhing bodies to reach the
back of the club. He had hoped to enjoy a little time with Janette,
but it was Lacroix that greeted him.

“Nicholas, so good to see you back again. Can I interest you in a
drink?” Lacroix smiled at his son. Nicholas nodded, and Lacroix
understood. He’d felt the peace in his son of late. He knew that
Nicholas was drinking human blood again. The roman gestured to a
waitress for glass.

“I heard you tonight, talking of possessions. You have many things,
Lacroix. What is it that you do not possess?” Nick smirked, and then
added, “Who can take anything away from you?” 

“There was one who took away the greatest love I have ever known,”
Lacroix said with a soft voice. He looked up at Nicholas with ice
blue eyes. There was no anger in them.

“She was not yours, Lacroix. She was her own person.” Nick said
flatly.

Flashback – the Duchy of Brabant, 1267 A.D.

Nicholas enjoyed watching Madeleine skip around the grand marché
(market). It seemed to the vampire, that this sassy little girl did
not pay much attention to the warnings of her mother. Madeleine had
been out numerous times after dark. She would bustle around the
stands at the market, causing the merchants to cluck angrily at her.
Her parents would chastise her every time she reached home. Just like
her grandmother, she was her own person, with a streak of
stubbornness. 

Nicholas had decided to keep watch over the little wandering spirit.
Not too close, though. Ever since his first encounter with Madeleine,
he’d noticed an acidic odour that burned his nostrils. He attributed
it to the strange bunch of herbs laced together about the little
girl’s neck. Attached to this strange necklace was a small silver
cross. The noxious thing made Nicholas sick, so he kept his distance.

Nicholas noticed Madeleine crouch low, fixing her stare on a caged
chicken. It was flapping about in a desperate frenzy. The vampire
could see a frown of worry for the bird crease the little girl’s
face. He knew what Fleur would do in this situation, and he was not
surprised when Madeleine stood up and looked to see who was watching,
then wiggled the latch that held the bird. 

The instant the door of the cage fell open the chicken rushed out.
The bird half flew, half jumped around the centre of the marché. Some
boys in the street thought its crazed dance of freedom an excellent
game and began to chase it. The chicken darted down a narrow street
with several boys in pursuit.

Nick saw the stocky, old farmer who had lost the chicken pick
Madeleine up by the ruff of her dress and shake her. The man cursed
in a thick, rural accent as he looked down into her round blue eyes.
Nicholas could see Madeleine’s eyes widened in terror. The farmer
dropped her, and she landed on the dirt with a thud. 

“Je vais te gifler au bord des larmes pour la perte de cette poule
(I’ll slap you until you cry for the loss of that chicken). I’ll take
that bird out of your hide,” the man snorted at her. He leaned down
so that his pudgy face was inches from the girl.

“Laissez l’enfant tranquille! (Leave the child alone),” Nicholas
shouted with the command of the vampire. He could hear the farmer’s
heartbeat loudly in his ears. The beast paced hungrily below the
surface of the knight.

The man was not convinced by the soothing tone of the vampire for a
second, but he did recognize the sound of a nobleman. He straightened
to eye the stranger. “Who are you?” he asked taking in the blond
man’s fine clothing.

“No one of importance,” Nicholas said. He towered over the old man
by at least a foot. “Let the child go and I will pay for the bird.”

“Non, this one needs to pay for her deeds. This is not the first
time. She has done this to others!” The farmer looked down at the
child with fury.

Nicholas looked at the man, letting the vampire rise. Gold flooded
his eyes. They locked on the smaller man. “If you do not let this one
go, you will have to deal with me,” he said in a quiet but powerful
voice.

“You!” The farmer looked up at Nicholas, his eyes wide in
recognition. “I knew that I had seen your face seen before. You are
Thomas de Brabant’s son! Nicholas, the one that turned away from
God!” The farmer crossed himself. The merchants in the square could
not see Nicholas’s face, but they began to murmur to each other.

Nicholas hissed softly and retreated a few steps. He pushed the
vampire down and looked at the farmer with clear, blue eyes.
Madeleine rushed to the knight with no fear. He put a hand
protectively around her. 

Trust one of his father’s peasants to find him here in Leuvain.
After weeks with André at the de Brabant manor, Nicholas was sure
many rumours had gone through the countryside about Thomas’s only
son, the crusader with the demon heart. Nicholas had left only bodies
behind—and André.

The vampire picked up his grand niece, and fled the square.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [8/14]: The Raven, Present day

“You’re thinking about Fleur as well,” Lacroix said, picking up
Nicholas’s faraway eyes more than his thoughts.

“Yes—and no. She has been on my mind, but I was thinking more of
André.” Nick offered his master a rare bit of honesty. After the
night with Galois and the affair with the Enforcers, the general had
reached a more favourable position in Nicholas’s eyes. For now. 

“Yes, whatever did become of that young one, I wonder,” Lacroix
thought aloud. Of course, he knew far more about the boy than he
would ever tell. He’d visited Fleur just before the terrible accident
had befallen her husband, Richard. Poor sod, dying in such an
undignified manner. The general had given his flower comfort, and
cared for her son. Then, he’d erased all memory of his time there. 

Lacroix’s face held no hint of anything as he looked at Nicholas.

6666666666

“The report is open to interpretation, I suppose. The guy admitted
to shooting McCreed. Whether he did it in self-defence or not, I
don’t know. I only indicated that it was Andersen who did the
shooting, and that he did it at point blank range. Finding a motive,
that’s your department.” Natalie said from her stance over the body
of a heart-attack victim. She had just finished an autopsy, and was
pulling a linen sheet over the corpse.

“Did you get them?” Nick asked about the tulips he’d sent with a
boyish grin. 

“Yes I did, thank you. They’re lovely, just like the ones in my
grandmother’s garden. You were listening, obviously. You know, you
don’t have to send me flowers. I am just happy to help you to feel
better.” Natalie gave him a weak smile and moved away to open the
freezer door.

Nick saw Natalie grin, but it seemed to lack sincerity. “Is there
something wrong?” he asked. “They don’t remind you of any bad
memories, I hope.”

Natalie pushed the gurney with her patient into the freezer. She
shut the freezer door and pulled its handle down to secure it. “Well,
yes. As a matter of fact, there is.” The coroner sat down at her
desk. There were several things she needed to say to Nick right now.
She had been thinking about them for a while, but had decided to
delay things after the accident. 

Nick had been so upset that he’d put Schanke through the car crash
because of his tendency to daydream. Natalie had spent time with Nick
afterward just talking about how much she and Nick really appreciated
the big detective. Natalie felt as though Nick understood a few of
the things he took for granted having Schanke as a partner. Sometimes
Nick could be a bit too much the lone wolf type. 

Now it was time to get back to the beginnings of a relationship with
Nick that had begun this past month. Natalie had talked more openly
with Nick since they had started dating than she had ever done
before. She told him everything about growing up with her brother and
her controlling, sometimes abusive, grandmother.

Nick had been very receptive to her stories. He had asked questions
and laughed along with her at the happier times, and he had held her
hand for the tougher memories. When Natalie had asked Nick about any
of his past, however, he had become silent. She knew he had
tremendous guilt about the things he’d done. She wanted to do what
she could to ease that guilt, for it was obvious that it was far too
much for one person to carry.

“Nick, you still haven’t told me what was it like growing up in your
family?” Natalie said.

Nick’s eyes darted from her gaze. He had never shared that part of
his past, not with mortal. He doubted he could do it with Natalie.
Life as a vampire had taught him that he could not trust anyone.
There had been so many times he’d revealed a piece of himself to a
mortal, only to be betrayed or looked upon as a monster.

Flashback – the Duchy of Brabant, 1267 A.D.

“Please let me down!” Madeleine said, wiggling in the vice-like grip
of the blond stranger. She had seen this one watching her in the
market a few times. He had protected her from the farmer in the
market square. Now, he held her tight and rushed through the streets
with dizzying speed. She was beginning to feel a little ill.

Nicholas stopped in his tracks with his grandniece. He listened with
his keen hearing for the sound any of the merchants following them.
There was nothing. The blond knight put his little charge down on the
ground. Before he let her go, however, he crouched down, snapped the
offensive necklace from her neck and tossed it away. He had had quite
enough of that little charm.

Madeleine looked at the blond stranger standing in front of her.
“Why did you do that?” she asked. She did not particularly care for
the necklace, but her mother would be upset if she lost it. “Maman,
gave that to me.”

“I know. It was awful to see such an ugly piece of jewellery on such
a pretty girl.” Nicholas answered with a smile.

Madeleine smiled back. She liked this odd one. “Who are you?” she
ventured.

“Nicholas is my name. I knew your grandmother.” Nicholas could see
much of Fleur in Madeleine. He could see her acceptance of him, even
when she could not explain what she had seen in the square. “You are
a little flower, aren’t you?” he said brushing her cheek with his
thumb. “You must go now and return to your parents. Please do not
tell them of me.” Nicholas said with every bit the authority of a
granduncle.

“Merci, Monsieur. I will not tell,” was the girl’s reply. Then, she
did something miraculous. She bent over and kissed the vampire on the
cheek.

Nicholas stood in shock. He watched the little girl turn and skip
towards her home, seemingly unbothered by anything. He knew it was
almost time to leave this town. A reunion with André would not happen
at this time. 

Nicholas had known this the minute he had seen the cross about
Madeleine’s neck. The vampire did not leave with a heavy heart,
though. He had had a chance to encounter Madeleine, and that brought
him joy. Nicholas had one thing left to do before he left Leuvain,
however. 

“Madeleine!” Nicholas called the honey haired girl. The vampire saw
the little one stop at the sound of her name. She turned to face him
once again. “Who took the flute?” Nicholas asked.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [9/14]: The Coroner’s Officer, Present day

“I can’t talk about it,” Nick said, looking up from his memories of
Brabant. He saw a disappointed look in Natalie’s eyes. She’d shared
so much of herself these past two years, especially these past few
weeks. He’d owed her more than this.

Natalie watched as Nick turned and walk out the door.

6666666666

“Jackpot!” Schanke said as he came up, sat in his chair and leaned
over onto Nick’s desk. “I think I got a little bit of something that
back’s up Palmar’s story.” The big detective was smiling ear to ear.

“Yah? What’ve you got, Schank?” Nick asked. He had been slowly
plodding through McCreed’s phone records. He welcomed any distraction.

“Well, I went to the Admissions department at the police academy
last night. It was closed. I talked to a professor at the academy
that knew McCreed but that went nowhere. He did say that McCreed was
an excellent student with an easy-going personality. He liked
McCreed. That’s all. So,” Schanke paused for effect.

“So?” Nick asked tiredly looking at the silly grin on his partner’s
face.

“I went back to Admissions this morning and talked to Wanda. She is
this cute little Admissions clerk—“ 

“Schanke, get to the point, please!” Nick cut in impatiently.

“Well, alright. McCreed was about to be kicked out of the academy.
He hadn’t paid his tuition fees for months,” Schanke said.

“That would give him a reason to track down the outstanding debts
people owed him.” Nick looked at his partner thoughtfully. Then, he
added “I found a little something too, Schank.” The blond detective
looked down at his desk where he’d piled any records of interest on
one side. 

“It took some digging. Nothing showed up in Andersen’s phone records
last night. This evening, I looked at all the numbers that McCreed
had phoned in the last few months and checked for Andersen’s number
but there was nothing as well—until I checked the cell numbers.” Nick
frowned as he shuffled his papers. He could not find the correct
ones. The detective let out a great, weary and frustrated sigh.

“Are you beginning to get tired of following the paper trail on this
one? You stick me with this stuff more often than not. It’s about
time you drove the desk, for a change!” Schanke laughed.

“Stuff it, Schank!” Nick said irritably. He located the pages he’d
been looking for. “Here they are,” he said. “I phoned Rogers to get a
list of names for some of the cell numbers that McCreed had dialled,
and I found one for Fred Andersen.” Nick offered the pages to his
partner.

“How many times did McCreed phone Andersen?” Schanke asked. His eyes
were still on the papers.

“Several times in the last three months, but there were no calls to
Andersen in the last two weeks.” Nicked looked at his partner.

“Kinda like when you call someone and they see your number but they
don’t answer the phone.” 

“I think we have enough info now to talk to Fred Andersen, don’t
you?” Nick said.

6666666666

Having to dodge around detectives Greenwood and Wright all week had
made Nick and Schanke very uneasy. Everyone in the department worked
hard to clean up Toronto and make it safe, including Greenwood and
Wright. However, it was obvious to now that the Andersen case
warranted additional attention. At the same time, just as in any job,
there were politics and pride. 

Nick and Schanke had avoided the other two detectives that had
covered for them up to this point. However, with a very sour Fred
Andersen being led through the precinct tonight by a uniformed
officer, it was very clear to everyone what was happening. Wright,
who was without his partner tonight, gave a quick glance of
displeasure to Schanke and Nick. The pair ignored him for the moment
and went into the interrogation room.

Nick was the first to speak to the dark haired man sitting in the
room. “Mr. Andersen. My name is detective Knight and this here is my
partner detective Schanke.” Nick gestured over to the bigger
detective. “Mr. Andersen, I don’t think you were entirely forthcoming
when you gave your statement after the shooting. Did you know James
McCreed before he came to your home that night?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never met James McCreed
before in my life,” Fredric Andersen replied. His eyes were so dark
that they almost seemed black. They matched his neatly trimmed, black
hair and beard exactly. He sat straight in his chair and looked into
Nick’s eyes without hesitation. 

“Did you ever speak with McCreed on the phone?” Schanke asked.

Andersen straightened his monogrammed sport coat a little. He
brought his eyes this time to Schanke, pausing for a moment. His eyes
raked over the big detective. “Yes,” he answered flatly. “He had
phoned me to ask for my assistance in finding a job. He was a student
with a lot of debt. He wanted to work nights to make some money to
cover his tuition. It’s my job. I’m in the recruitment business. I
help companies fill positions, and people find jobs.” Andersen pulled
out his wallet and produced a business card.

“Do clients come to your residence to use your services?” Nick asked.

“No, I have an office downtown. I don’t know how that guy got my
home address. I never gave it to him. He must have got it from the
telephone book.” 

“So you knew Andersen from before through your business. Tell us
what really happened that night,” Nick said curtly. He looked at
Andersen with cold eyes.

Andersen wasn’t bothered by the intense, chilly stare of the
detective. “I already told the police what happened that night.
Maybe, I forgot to mention that McCreed was a client—“

“That’s a pretty major omission, Mr. Andersen,” Schanke interrupted.

“Yah well, I didn’t want anything to do with that crazy kid. He was
desperate for money, a poor, hopeless case!” Andersen practically
spat out the last words. “I would not get him a job. He had no
skills. He yelled at my wife that he would kill her. I had no choice,
so I got my gun and shot him.” Andersen sighed heavily.

“Was there anyone else besides your wife, yourself and McCreed in
the room?” Nick asked.

Andersen looked at the two detectives and sighed again. “Yes, he
brought his Paki friend, but the guy didn’t stay long.” he admitted.

Nick stiffened at the racial barb. He did not like this man before
him, but disliking him did not prove anything. He looked at his
partner briefly. They both knew that they’d have to release Andersen.
They had nothing yet to prove that he didn’t kill McCreed in self
defence.

As soon as Nick told him he was free to go, Andersen walked briskly
out of the interrogation room. The look from his black eyes that he
gave Nick before he left would have sent chills down any person’s
spine, but the vampire was unimpressed. 

When Andersen was gone, Nick quietly closed the door.

“He’s lying.” Schanke said. “Pavarotti could fit through the holes
in his story.”

Nick smiled at the opera reference. The Polish-Italian detective’s
love of opera just didn’t go with his semi-macho image. “Well, now we
just we have to prove it. I know one thing for sure. There’s no way
McCreed could have found Andersen’s address in the phone book. Thank
goodness for those boring old phone records.”

“Why?” Schanke asked curiously.

“Andersen has an unlisted phone number.” 

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [10/14]: Nick’s Loft

“So, you’ve got two versions of the same story, both with missing
information. What do you think?” Natalie asked, pouring a couple of
mugs of tea.

Nick sat on the couch, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he
said.

Natalie came up to the couch and cuddled up against the vampire.
“Let’s see if I can warm you,” she said with a big smile. The petite
woman offered Nick a cup of tea, and laughed when he made a face.
“Come on, you’ve had French fries, what’s a little tea? We’ve been
here before, it seems to me. Really Nick, yours is more water than
tea, and every living thing needs water.”

“But, I’m not—“Nick started to say.

“Don’t make me have to hit you!” Natalie cut in. For all his charms,
Nick was infuriating at times.

“Alright,” Nick said. He choked down a little liquid for her benefit
then put the mug down quickly. He looked at his little Natalie
tonight. She looked beautiful in her casual pants and baggy top. He
gave her a little peck on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” Natalie asked.

“Just because—“Nick said, and gave Natalie a sly grin. He moved
closer, and kissed her again but deeper this time.

The kiss was electric. It left Natalie with a tingle all over her
body. “Because?” Natalie teased.

“—because, I love you.” Nick exclaimed. He had wished to say those
words several times before, but had never quite had the courage. It
was hard for him to see himself deserving of love. Certainly, he
didn’t deserve the love of one such as Natalie.

“I love you too, Nick,” Natalie answered her knight then added, “All
of you.”

“You don’t know all of me, Natalie,” Nick said soberly. His fears
pushed at him again. The few recollections of Nick’s family, the
stories that Natalie so want to hear, were interwoven among the most
bloody parts of his past, his random killing years as a new vampire.
He’d almost forgotten his mortal years, for he’d not had the flawless
memory of the vampire back then to record them. 

“I understand that it’s hard for you Nick to let anyone in. You have
had to live with secrets all your life. I know you think you are a
brave creature of the night that need not fear anything. Isn’t that
the standard training they give all you guys when you’re recruited?”
Natalie’s tone was firm but gentle. She knew what she wanted, and she
was going to get it. She would help this angsty vampire or die trying!

Natalie saw Nick laugh, and she smiled. “Look, what I mean is—I know
your secret, Nick.” She looked straight into the clear blue eyes of
her love. “Nick Knight. You’re afraid to trust me. You’re afraid I’ll
reject you.”

Nick crossed his arms defensively and stared for a minute at the
auburn-haired lady who could see into his soul. He let out the breath
he’d been holding in with a heavy sigh. “Fine, you asked for it,”
Nick said finally. He could hear her heartbeat strongly. She was not
afraid. Suddenly, he leaned in and nibbled on Natalie’s earlobe. 

Natalie swatted Nick’s face lightly with her hand and said, “Quit,
stalling!”

“Okay, okay,” Nick answered sheepishly. And, he began by telling
Natalie snippets of what he remembered of his life with Fleur, his
maman and the few memories he had of his papa. He told her of the de
Brabant manor and the peasants. Then, he began to tell her of André
and the flute. For better or for worse, she would learn about the
bloody beginnings of his vampire life. 

Flashback – the Duchy of Brabant, 1267 A.D.

It had not taken long for Nicholas to track down the mop-headed
adolescent, dressed in rags, who had stolen the flute. When the boy
saw the blond knight materialize out of nowhere to stand over him, he
sprinted out of the alleyway and into a bustling crowd of people.
Nicholas’s eyes burned. He bowed his head a little, hiding his golden
gaze from the passers by. His fangs lengthened. 

The vampire in him coiled around his mind such that his anger at the
boy quickly turned to darker thoughts. Hunger snapped in Nicholas’s
belly. It had been too long since he had fed. The whores he taken the
last few nights were only a dim memory. Nicholas pushed through the
crowd. He would feed, return the flute and leave Leuvain forever. It
had been a mistake to come to his homeland. People still remembered
him.

The boy led Nicholas through a wild mess of narrow streets,
courtyards and corners. The scenery gradually became more dingy as
Nicholas followed. Finally, the chase ended at a dark, old shack in
the slums of Leuvain. The boy pulled the door open and darted inside.
Nicholas could hear the sounds of shouting inside. He pulled the
vampire back inside, for the moment.

A large, balding man opened the door of the home. His mass took up
the whole doorframe. He looked at Nicholas, taking in the blond
knight’s noble apparel. “Vous aviez faites une peur bleue à mon fils!
(You scared my son stiff)! What do you want?” The man demanded.

Nicholas could barely recognize the man’s slurred French. The stench
of alcohol wafted to Nicholas from the big man’s breath. “Your son
has taken something that belongs to me, a wooden flute.”

“I did not steal that flute,” said a small voice from behind the
large man. The mop-haired teen poked his head out from behind his
father. “I found it, papa, at the market square.”

Nicholas could hear the boy’s heart flutter. He knew the boy was
lying. “Where is the flute?!” Nicholas snapped, stepping closer to
the man and his son. His patience was wearing dangerously thin. The
beast inside him scratched at its tethers to come out. The hunger,
sharp as only a young vampire possessed, would not be controlled much
longer.

“A little bit of money, and I am sure my boy will be able to find
your flute.” The man smiled with a mouthful full of yellow teeth.

The vampire’s fragile breaking point had come. Nicholas’s mind and
eyes were shrouded in red. He grabbed the balding man and pulled him
closer. With his other hand, the vampire pulled the man’s head back,
exposing his neck. He reared back, hissing to reveal long, slender
fangs, and struck. There was nothing but the ecstasy of rich, hot
blood for the next few seconds. 

When the vampire had finished, he tossed the body aside and turned a
red gaze to the other, faster beating heart that thundered in his
ears. Nicholas gave the adolescent a gory red, sharp-toothed smile.
There was no warmth in it at all.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [11/14]: Outside the Police Precinct 

Schanke slammed the door of his brown Ford harshly. He was late for
work again. It was a bad habit of his; one that he was not
particularly proud of. The detective pushed his hefty form as fast as
he could, taking great strides, towards the steps to the back
entrance of the building.

“Detective Shanke!” 

Schanke heard a female voice call him from behind. He turned to see
a slim, blond woman running to catch up to him. The large bag wound
around her shoulder flopped as she moved.

“Detective Shanke!” the woman repeated. “Hi, my name’s Sidney Beck
and I’m a freelance journalist. I covered the “Stalker of Toronto”
last month for a local paper.” The woman talked fast, realizing that
she would only have a few minutes to sell her idea to this man. 

The detective’s eyes were already glazing over with disinterest.
“It’s Schanke—with an C.” he corrected. “And, I’ve got nothing more
to comment on that case.” If there was one thing he didn’t like it
was the media. 

“I know, but I think I have something of interest to you, and I need
your help. Can we talk privately?”

6666666666

Schanke had entered the precinct only to inform Cohen that he
thought he had some information for the Andersen case, but that he
needed to talk to an informant. The Captain had agreed that he should
go, and had mentioned that Nick had already left to talk to Jaswinder
Palmar. Schanke took Beck to a diner two blocks away.

“Detective, I check my stories meticulously to make sure I’ve got
all the facts. I covered the stalker story from the beginning. I
talked to David Benton’s family and Daniel Longpré’s neighbours. I
had solid sources.” Ms. Beck explained.

Schanke could tell that she was nervous. She’d hardly touched her
coffee and she kept fiddling with her spoon. “No doubt, you had,” he
said shortly. His patience was wearing a little. His could think of
many more important things that he should be doing right now.

The blond woman looked at the balding detective with her light green
eyes. “I understand that your partner broke into the Human Touch
warehouse to save you, and killed Michael Gervais. There’s just one
thing I need to know about,” She paused, not knowing quite what to say.

“What’s that?” Schanke said.

“I found this at the warehouse wedged under some crates. I guess you
guys missed it.” The blond journalist took a plastic baggy out of the
satchel strapped to her side. She put it on the table.

It was a plastic syringe with a brownish green liquid inside. 

Schanke looked at it with wide eyes. Foggy images of that night swam
over his vision. All of them had Nick in them, but none of them made
sense. 

Not even Lacroix knows how different you are from the others, does
he? Schanke heard a ghostly voice say.

“I had some of the stuff in there analyzed. The guy said it was a
mixture of some strange herbs and lamb’s blood.” Ms. Beck knew she
had hooked the detective by the shocked expression in his eyes. “So
tell me, detective,” she asked. “Did Gervais belong to some devil
cult or something?”

Schanke rose from his seat and looked at the blond woman with a sour
face. His belief in journalists as annoying insects was still firmly
intact. “You’re from the Inquisitor, aren’t you?” he said quickly. He
knew of the tabloid rag. Then, he grabbed the baggy, and left the
restaurant. 

6666666666

When Schanke arrived at the precinct, he immersed himself in the
Andersen case and ignored the itch in his mind that the journalist
had planted. The number for McCreed’s next of kin had been missing
from the file. He wanted to avoid asking Greenwood or Wright, not
that they were really talking much to him these days anyway, so he
placed a phone call to Wanda at the police academy and got the info
from her. After a half hour conversation with James McCreed’s uncle,
he hung up the phone. At the same time, Nick came by his desk.

“Did you get anything?” Schanke asked, as his partner sat down at
the desk facing his own. 

“Not really,” Nick said. “Palmar is sure Andersen’s wife was not
there when he and McCreed arrived at Andersen’s. He didn’t know
anything about McCreed’s financial situation. Maybe McCreed kept the
whole thing to himself.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I called Patrick McCreed, James McCreed’s uncle, in
Calgary. James was raised by a single mother, Georgia McCreed. She
died ten years ago in a car accident. Pat was Georgia’s only brother.
She had no sisters. Georgia never mentioned anything about James’s
father, and Pat was the godparent, so he took the boy in and raised
him after that.” Schanke said. 

“Did the uncle have anything to say about James’s money situation?”
Nick asked.

“Yes. He was ashamed that he could not help James out with his
education. He said he didn’t make enough money,” Schanke said. “I
wonder why James didn’t just apply for a student loan.”

“Maybe he did,” Nick said thoughtfully. “Let’s find out.” Nick
picked up his phone.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [12/14]: The Metro Savings Bank of Toronto

What seemed like an easy task had taken more time than Nick and
Schanke could have imagined. Finding the application that McCreed had
made for financial assistance was like searching for the needle in
the proverbial haystack. They had to phone bank after bank until they
found a hit at Metro Savings. 

When Nick and Schanke arrived, the old, hawk-nosed financial advisor
at the bank was not happy to accommodate the detectives’ visit past
the bank’s hours of service. Few well-chosen words and a smile from
Nick convinced her to stay just awhile longer. After that, the old
woman was very agreeable.

“What are the circumstances under which candidates may be rejected
for a student loan?” Nick asked.

“Well there are many, it all depends upon the situation. The federal
government is getting out of the loan business somewhat, and some of
the major banks have taken over. Our rules here are a little more
rigid than they have been in the past. 

“We don’t accept candidates with parents that make a substantial
income. That was the case with James McCreed. His father is a very
wealthy man.” The advisor said. “We expect that those individuals who
make a substantial amount can help their children with their
education. I don’t know the policies of the other banks. But I would
assume that they are similar.”

“Do you have James’s fathers name and number?” Nick asked, producing
a warrant.

“Yes, I do. It’s a standard requirement on our application form.”
She handed the file she’d found to Nick, pointing to where McCreed
had filled out the information. 

Georgia McCreed may not have told her brother who had fathered her
son, but she had told James. In the area marked “family background”,
James McCreed had written “deceased” for his mother. He had, however,
written a name down for his father.

Fredric Andersen.

Flashback – Duchy of Brabant – 1267 A.D.

Nicholas dumped the bodies in the bedroom of the dingy shack, and
washed his hands of everything in a cracked basin. He had searched
the house for the flute, locating it finally on a table in a dusty
corner. He made sure to disturb things so as to make it look like
there had been a robbery. Tucking the flute in his arm, he left for
the market square. 

The amount of people milling around the grand marché in the late
evening surprised Nicholas. He searched about for the honey haired
girl with the clear blue eyes, hoping that she would show tonight. He
would give her the flute, get his horse and leave Leuvain promptly.
He could not leave until he gave Madeleine back her treasure.

Suddenly, a stranger’s voice called the vampire’s name from behind.
Nicholas turned towards the sound. 

André le Tisserand stalked up to Nicholas and drove his blade
through the chest of the blond man without hesitation. He knew how to
kill a vampire. He had been waiting for the opportunity for two
decades. He had made sure to rub his sword with holy-water and garlic
so as to inflict the most agony. 

The pain in Nicholas’s chest was unbearable. The blade had passed
through him, puncturing his lung. It burned his flesh like fire.
Blood tears rimmed his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. To show
any signs of his nature among these mortals would be suicide. 

The bustle of men and woman in the market had ceased. All eyes were
locked on the slick-haired, bearded man leaning over the odd nobleman. 

“Quel effet cela vous fait-t-il? (What does it feel like?) You do
feel pain, eh demon? My heart is glad of this. Are you quite
terrified yet? Maybe you will understand what it a bit of what they
felt when you came to them each night!” The man’s hazel eyes held no
hint of emotion. 

Nicholas felt his body responding to the damage it had received. The
wound in his chest was already starting to heal, but very slowly.
With this healing came a price of course, one which he was prepared
to pay. Hot hunger roared to life within him. 

Not yet, Nicholas thought. Quelling his instincts took immense
effort. His hunger was largely the bigger part of himself as a young
vampire. As if on cue, his need pounded at him again and he moaned
slightly.

“Are you dying? How delightful!” the man laughed. He pulled at
something hidden in the leather pouch around his waist, all the while
holding the burning tip of his bloodied blade to Nicholas’s chest. “I
know their names. I took the time to know their names. Isabelle,
Adèle, Geneviève, and my Mado….You touched my Mado! I vowed dear
un—“he stopped, he couldn’t say it, “bête (beast), to avenge those
you took for your hunger. I do not care for any words you might have
to convince me to be merciful!” The man spat at the creature lying
near death on the pavement.

Nicholas closed his eyes. His heart throbbed twice in panic.
Precious blood flowed from his wounds and pooled onto the dirt. His
whole body screamed to take and end the pain. The vampire could not
stop the gold from coming to his eyes or his fangs from descending. 

The knight looked upon his nephew with glowing eyes. The acidic
mixture in his wound burned sharply. The groan of agony that escaped
Nicholas sounded more animal than human. “André,” he rasped
desperately around long canines.

“Do not speak, you vial thing! I have waited so long to kill you. I
despise you!” the young man shouted. “You have destroyed the lives of
so many, but none so much as mine! When you left no one would believe
me. Everyone thought I was mad when I told them I had seen a demon.
They thought I had a sickness of the mind.”

Nicholas flinched at the huge silver cross around André’s neck. The
lanterns of the marché seemed to make it glow. It burned his eyes.
With a hiss of pain, he flinched and turned away.

André ignored the vampire’s reaction. “How embarrassing it was for
the noble de Brabant family, especially the duke, to have a crazed
one among them.” he continued. “So, they banished me. They stripped
my name and made me a ward of the church. I grew up in the slums of
Leuvain when I should have been at the de Brabant manor. I am a
tisserand (weaver). I should have had the wealth of a de Brabant.”
André pulled a wooden stake from the leather pouch around his waist.

Nicholas held Fleur’s flute up at his nephew. “Kill me if you must,
but this is for Madeleine,” he said weakly.

André snatched the instrument from his uncle. “Bloody is everything
you touch,” he spat, tossing the flute on the ground. Under a heavy
boot, the man crushed it. Then, he raised his stake and struck.

Nicholas’s hand moved fast than eyes could follow. He grasped his
nephew’s wrist with an iron grip, crushing bones.

André let out a yelp of pain, and cradled his hand to his body. His
stake fell to the ground.

The vampire rose, and disappeared from the market square in blurred
burst of speed. When he had fled far enough he gathered the last of
his strength and took to the air, away from Leuvain.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [13/14]: The Walnut Grove Estates on Baker St.

Nick walked quickly up the steps to the house of Fredric and Nicola
Andersen. His partner and he had waited down the street until Fred
Andersen had come out and left in his car. Now was their opportunity.
Nick moved to knock on the door, with Schanke right behind. 

A petite, grey-haired woman answered the door.

“Mrs. Andersen?” Nick asked.

“Yes?” Nicola Andersen answered.

“My name is detective Knight and this is Detective Schanke.” Nick
said. “We would like to ask you a few questions about the burglary
two weeks ago.” 

Nicola Andersen nodded, and opened the door. The elderly lady
ushered the two detectives to the living room couch.

“You told police in your statement that you answered the door that
night,” Schanke said, leaning forward a little from his sitting
position. 

“Yes,” Mrs. Andersen said. She sat on the tip of her high-back
chair, tensely rubbing her hands together.

“And, you also said that James McCreed forced you on the floor. Is
that correct?” Nick asked this time.

Nicola Andersen nodded.

“Was your husband in the room?” 

“No, just me,” she answered.

“Was there anyone else in the room besides yourself and McCreed?”
Schanke asked.

The woman looked up at the two detectives and softly said, “No.” 

“We spoke to a man who says he was with McCreed that night. He says
you didn’t answer the door, but that your husband did. Is that true?”
Schanke looked straight into the woman’s eyes. 

Nicola Andersen’s mouth trembled. She was silent. 

“We know your husband knew McCreed before he came to your home that
night.” Nick asked.

The elderly woman just stared at the detectives.

“We also know that your husband is James McCreed’s father.” Schanke
said flatly. “Why would your husband tell us that McCreed was just a
business client?” 

The woman said nothing.

“What really happened that night, Mrs. Andersen?” Nick looked into
the woman’s eyes, capturing her heartbeat.

The woman’s eyes widened at the blond detective’s voice, and her
body sagged. Her voice took on a flat, lifeless tone as she began to
speak. “James McCreed said that Fred had raped his mother. He said he
had the evidence to prove it. The boy wanted money or he was going to
the tell police. Fred was afraid. He didn’t want his reputation to be
ruined.” Nicola Andersen said.

“So he shot James McCreed when the boy came looking for money,”
Schanke said with shock. 

Nicola Andersen nodded.

6666666666

It hadn’t taken long to get to the high-rise office building that
held Fredric Andersen’s recruitment business. Nick had burst out of
the car as soon as the two detectives had arrived. Schanke lagged
slowly behind him. The security guard indicated that Andersen’s
offices were on the tenth level. The elevator was out of service, so
Nick charged up the stairs.

Upon looking at the flights that awaited him, Schanke sighed. “Oh,
Man!” he whined. He could see his partner quickly rising higher and
higher, almost as if the blond detective was floating up the stairwell.

Nick opened the heavy metal door that led to the tenth floor, and
followed the signs down the hallway that pointed to Andersen’s
business. When he arrived at the glass entrance, he tried the knob.
It was locked. Nick didn’t bother to knock. He pulled at the door
until the deadbolt snapped, and entered.

The vampire listened with his sensitive hearing, locating a single
heartbeat. He followed the rhythm down the hallway to the right.
Approaching the open office door, the detective saw Andersen turned
towards a computer screen. 

Fredric Andersen whipped around at the sound of Nick entering the
office. His face didn’t register any shock at Nick’s surprise
appearance. “What do you want?” he said instead, with tone of
annoyance.

“We know what really happened the night of the shooting Mr.
Andersen. You’re under arrest, “Nick told the dark haired man.

“Like hell!” Andersen yelled. The black haired man stood up, eying
the detective coldly. He then rounded the desk to where Nick was
standing until he stood before the blond detective. Without warning,
Andersen picked up a letter opener and lunged at Nick.

The blond detective was caught by surprise. Nick hissed
automatically when the blade cut his shoulder. The vampire smelled
his own blood, and it brought his anger forth. He locked a glowing
golden gaze upon the man who had injured him. A snarl issued from his
lips through extended fangs.

Andersen looked at the thing before him in terror. He held his
weapon up weakly and backed away. “What the hell are you?” he gasped.

The vampire advanced upon the man with slow grace until Andersen was
against a wall. In a blur of movement, the detective latched an iron
hand onto the dark haired man’s neck and raised the man off the
floor. The letter opener dropped uselessly to the carpet.

A little taste would be all it took to know if this man had raped
Georgia McCreed, the vampire thought. Nick remembered in detail what
it had been like to taste from the source not so long ago. His body
ached with the need to feel that feeling again. The air was filled
with the scent vampire blood. The smell of it infuriated Nick,
pushing him closer to the edge.

The blond detective ignored the soft cries of the man. He closed his
eyes to listen to the compelling rhythm of a heart in terror. A sip
would give him all he needed to know. Opening his blazing eyes once
again, he pulled Andersen down slowly, keeping the man pinned to the
wall by the neck. The vampire then grabbed Andersen’s wrist with his
free hand, brought it up to his mouth, and licked the tangle of blue
veins gently. A devilish, sharp smile came to the detective lips. 

“Nick! What are you doing!?” Schanke called from behind.

Nick dropped Andersen at the sound of Schanke behind him and froze.
What had he been doing? The taste of human blood may have dulled his
hunger these past few weeks, but feelings it had brought back had
sharpened his desire to hunt for warm donors. As he had so many times
before, he pushed the vampire down inside with shame. Turning back to
his partner, he looked him with clear blue eyes. There was a hint of
sadness there.

“He pushed me against the wall! He had insane yellow eyes and sharp
teeth!” Andersen cried to Schanke from his crumpled position on the
floor.

Nick turned to Andersen and locked on his heartbeat. With a
commanding tone, he said, “Forget what you saw.” He waited to hear
Andersen repeat the words flatly, and then he turned the man around
and slapped handcuffs on him. The blond detective pushed Andersen
past Schanke out of the office, citing the suspect his rights.

Schanke stood alone in the office, in the midst of an onslaught of
weird images of Nick with yellow eyes and sharp teeth.

Kin by E.S. Nelson

Chapter [14/14]: Nick’s Loft

“If the victim comes into a clinic within 48 hours of the rape,
semen and hair samples can be recovered. There are hundreds of
evidence bags around the country chilling in forensic refrigerators
from rape crimes, Nick. Many, many times this type of thing goes
unsolved,” Natalie said from her cozy position on Nick’s leather
couch. “Until I see the samples from the Georgia McCreed case, if
they ever get here from Calgary, I can’t tell you much more than you
already know.” 

“Why didn’t she go to the police and tell them who raped her? I
mean, she took the time to go get tested at a rape clinic,” Nick
responded from the kitchen. He had just poured himself a glass of
blood; bovine this time. His stomach groaned in protest, but his will
was determined to suppress any killer urges that drinking human blood
might have spawned. He had allowed himself one small comfort, though.
He’d heated the blood up in the microwave.

“Rape is a horrific thing, Nick. It takes courage to come forward.
At least Andersen will be charged with James’s murder,” Natalie
answered. 

Nick nodded and came around the couch to join her. “Can you try to
warm me up again?” he said nudging up to her. On his face was a big,
boyish grin.

“I don’t know. I try and I try but you are still so cold. Oh well, I
like trying all the same,” she laughed and cuddled up to her knight.
“What are you going to do about Schanke?” she asked.

Nick’s stomach clenched a little. He had tried to make the big
detective forget about last night. Usually it was an easy task, but
something had made the Schanke resist. Now, Nick didn’t quite know
what to do about it. There was only one thing that could make a non-
resistor immune to hypnotic suggestions. Evidence. But, Nick was sure
he had never left any hint of his nature behind. Or, had he?

6666666666

Schanke fingered the plastic baggy that held the syringe. He would
have it analyzed tomorrow. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know what
was in there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he already knew
right now. 

Something was very wrong about Nick.

La Fin?

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


By E.S. Nelson

I tried to finish this story with the all loose ends tied but the
whole thing with Schanke would have been bad to finish too quickly…..

I’ll let you decide what happens. Maybe you want to write your own
ending to this? I much prefer reading stories than writing them. 

Maybe I’ll write my version of the ending, but not until I think
about it a bit.