Nicholas has been debating whether or not it is possible for a vampire to
have faith for a very long time.  He equates faith with the mortality he
seeks. While he desperately wants faith, he is fearful that it may be denied
to him because of his not so righteous past.  Natalie tells him in "Last
Knight," that because of his faith that he may just be, "the most mortal man
she has ever known."  But how strong is his faith?  How badly does he want
his mortality? Would he kill for it, give up his faith?  Nick has found a
cure, but how much of his humanity will he sacrifice to be mortal again?

This fan fiction story takes place in the second season.  All the best of
"Forever Knight" will be present including Nick, Nat, LaCroix, Janette,
Schanke, Captain Cohen, and a very special new addition.  Come meet Nick and
Janette's older vampire brother, Roland.  He is definitely a new member to
the vampire family who you will love.  This story was written in true
"Forever Knight" style so as to have easily been included as one of the
second season's episodes.

Again, I send my gratitude to Rosemary who has always so graciously and
enthusiastically agreed to beta-read for me.  Her speed and accuracy has
made this story more enjoyable for everyone.  Thank you Rosemary for taking
the time to examine and correct this work, and thereby entrusting me with a
most valuable asset - your time.

This story is dedicated to my husband Neil whose faith, hope, and love have
made my words possible.  He is the one who has always had the faith in our
ever changing relationship, and each day proves that there really is such a
thing as happily ever after.

Archive Permission:  Permission to archive to Mel's FKFanfic Archive, and to
the FK FTP site IS GRANTED.  All others must ask permission.

Disclaimers:  The Forever Knight characters belong to Columbia Tri/Star.  No
copyright infringement is intended.  This story and all other characters are
copyrighted by me.

Please send all comments to [email protected]
 

Part One

It was not the most pleasant time to be in Buffalo, New York.  The roads had
been plowed, but the early in the season record snow fall had made getting
around very difficult- but only for mortals.  There had not been any snow in
Toronto when he had left, but this city looked as if it had been bombarded
with the white frozen particles.  A truck had been by, freeing access to the
cemetery's driveway.  The remainder of the cemetery lay blanketed in over
two feet of snow.  All except the occasional cross or tall monument lay
hidden from view.  The impressive wrought iron gates stood opened and
immersed in mountains of snow that the snow removal machinery had pushed
against them. Although he could have followed the cleared pathway, he chose
instead to be led by her heart beat.  It was a more natural way to locate a
mortal, it was the way of his kind.  Gradually, he stepped towards a freshly
dug grave and the shivering body that cried over it.

"Good evening Mrs. Stiller."

Startled, the woman stepped back and lost her breath when she turned to see
the tall imposing figure that had been behind her in the dark.  Smiling, he
offered his hand to steady her, but she refused.

"I did not mean to alarm you.  I merely wish to pay my respects."

Distrustfully, she looked into his eyes.  "It is almost midnight.  Why do
you come here now?"

"I did first try to visit your residence, but it seems as of late, you are
not there much."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she calmed herself and again directed her
attention to the grave before her.  "No, I'm not.  There just doesn't seem
to be any reason to be there any more."  Tears filled her eyes then poured
down her already moistened cheeks.  The tears caused her to cough, and when
she again felt some control, she turned her gaze back to him.  "I do not
believe that I know you.  How did you know Sylvia?"

"I did not know your daughter, Mrs. Stiller.  I only thought to express my
sympathies for the pain you must now be experiencing.  Has the faith healer
come to comfort you over your loss?"

Bitterly, she looked away.  "No one has been here!  Not even a card has been
sent!  My daughter died because of that faith healer, and she reacts to us
as though we are nothing.  In her eyes we must not even be worthy of a
call."

The dark stranger's voice became smooth and clear as he stepped closer to
the grieving woman.  "Not even an offer to cover the expense's of the
funeral?  It must not have been easy for you to have afforded this final
resting place for your only child.  Especially after all the costs of her
special equipment. The faith healer is quite wealthy, is she not?"

Tears came again as she thought about all that she had lost.  "She has so
much, and has left me with nothing."

"I'm sure that at the time of this unfortunate incident that the faith
healer must have tried everything in her power to assist until medical help
arrived."

"No one helped.  She died in my arms."

"Not even some words of faith from the healer to comfort you?  It seems that
you are the one with all the faith.  A misguided faith that your daughter
died for a reason, faith that the two of you somehow deserved this tragic
turn of events, and faith that you have no recourse even though the faith
healer walks unaffectedly away with her riches.  She... cries... not... over
her child's grave in the dead of night!"

"There is nothing I can do."

With red swollen eyes, she watched as the man pointed firmly to the new
grave. "If she were mine, she would not lie cold in her grave without
retribution. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life!"

"Are you suggesting that I kill Orah?"

"I only suggest that there exists options and a greater justice.  If there
is ever to be any peace for your daughter and yourself, then you must
consider these other options."

"I'm so confused.  Please, help me.  I don't know what I want."

His voice filled with anger.  "You want a resolution to this.  Your daughter
will never come back to you.  Why should those responsible live without
consequences?  Look at her grave!  Is this to be your conclusion?  Is this
how it all ends?"

Holding her head, it suddenly felt heavy in her hands.  His words felt as
though they burned her, and she screamed out into the night.  "NO!  NO!"
Then turning back to her child's grave her uncontrollable words fell out as
she sobbed.  "Sylvia, I'm so sorry that I took you to see her.  I'm so
sorry, my baby."

Again the man took a step closer and almost whispered in her ear.  "You will
never be able to hold her again or hear her call your name.  Take care of
this problem now, and the faith healer will never hurt you or another
again."

Suddenly, her legs gave way from all the weight of her stress, and she fell
across the grave and hysterically sobbed.  "I will!  I need this to stop!  I
need to stop this pain!"

His voice boomed down around her.  "Orah will be in Toronto for her next
show. Don't let Sylvia down Mrs. Stiller."

The graveyard grew silent as she struggled to get up and thank the
mysterious stranger.  As she turned and wiped her tears, she found no trace
of her unexpected guest.  On the ground lay an envelope.  She picked up.
Inside, she saw a plane ticket and several thousand dollars.  A note was
enclosed that read......."So Sylvia can rest in peace."  It was apparent
what she must now do.

End Part 1

****** One week later ******

The sun had risen an hour ago and she was exhausted, but running the Raven
meant those extra hours beyond the clubs closing time.  It was the only way
to guarantee all the proper provisions for both mortal and vampire alike.
After completing the last of the re-orders, she returned her ledger to the
desk drawer.  Although there were no windows in the Raven's back room
office, she could not block out the effects of the daylight hours that had
saturated the city of Toronto outside of her club's door.  Over the
centuries, she had spent much time and effort learning how to cope with the
strain of the light, but it never felt comfortable.  There was no way around
it, the best way to survive was to just give into the sleep during the hours
in which the light reigned.

After blowing out the sole candle, she moved towards her back door and the
darkened stairway that led to her apartment beneath the Raven.  Finding her
way through the darkness was no effort, with the vampire's eyes everything
seemed brightly lit.  She had taken this same route to her hidden retreat so
many times in the past twenty years, that she could have found her place
with her eyes closed.  As she moved closer to her door, a familiar wave of
sensations swept across her and she stopped.  Someone waited for her inside,
one of her own kind, one of her own blood.  Now things made more sense.  All
night long she had the feeling that someone was nearby, but now it was
unmistakable.  Closing her eyes, she locked in on the vibration that
emanated from the other side of her door.  A knowing smile began to creep
across her lips, the sensation was that of her brother Nichola.  It was
pleasurable to feel him so much a part of her again.  Several months must
have passed since his last visit, and only then had he returned to her for
information on Toronto's low life.  Maybe this was his way of surprising her
by spending the day.  The blue in her eyes twinkled as she thought of
several ways in which Nichola could make up for his inattentiveness.
Excitedly reaching for the door's knob, she thought again and held back from
going in.  Maybe she should play along with his little plot, and pretend
that she was unaware of his presence.  No, she would not let him back into
her life that easily.  Anyway it would be more fun to have him squirm a
little first.  With renewed determination, she flung open the door and
called out.

"Did you think that you could fool me Nichola?"

As her eyes caught the others, her words stuck in her throat.  Frozen in
place, she stared at the dark-haired vampire that leaned against the pillar
with his arms folded across his chest.  An amused smile lit up his face as
he studied her reaction.

"Janette, is it possible that the centuries have made you even more
beautiful? But I am not Nichola.  You are close, however.  Care to try
again?"

"You!  You are dead!"

"Nice to see you again too, sis. But I'm afraid that the rumors of my death,
as they say, have been greatly exaggerated."

Closing the door tightly behind her, her body shook as she crossed the room
towards him.  Moving close, her fingers trembled as she cautiously reached
out to touch his face and whisper his name.

"Roland."

"Ah, so you do remember me, it has been a while."

"LaCroix said you were dead."

"Yeah, well I guess he would say that.  By the way, how is the old man?
Still his same carefree pleasant self?"

Stepping back, she tried to make sense of what her eyes and ears were
telling her.  The pain of all the years without him, felt as if it were
crushing her as she looked again into his eyes.

"Roland, it has been almost 800 years.  Where have you been?"

"Like you, I have been everywhere, but most of all I have been out of
LaCroix's path.  Speaking of being out of LaCroix's path, I heard it did not
take him long to replace me.  This Nichola that you mentioned, he is the one
who took my place, oui?"

The sweet memories of their time together caused him to reach over to her
and run his hand softly down her face.  Her eyes briefly closed as her head
moved to follow the caress of his hand.

"I also heard Janette, that you were the one who chose my replacement."

Gently closing her eyes from the sweetness of his touch, she sighed.  The
hand that caressed her face then slid around to her back, and he drew her
towards him and he kissed her deeply.  As he pulled away slightly, he smiled
as he noticed that her breaths had quickened.  It had been so long since
they had been together, but their chemistry was still strong.

"Don't you know Janette that there is no substitute for the real thing?"

Feeling her strength to resist him beginning to weaken, she pulled away and
went to retrieve one of her bottles of blood.  After releasing her, he
followed her into the narrow kitchen.  There were several already opened
bottles, and she browsed through the assortment until she found one with the
highest concentration of human blood and poured its contents into a crystal
goblet.  Consuming the drink to fortify herself, she then began to pour
another as she looked up at Roland.

"Would you care for some?"

Smiling, he moved closer to her.  "Always the hostess, but no.  I have
already helped myself while I was waiting for you."

As she finished her second glass, she again felt calm enough to think and
speak.  Placing the glass on the counter, she then confronted her brother.
"I did nothing wrong, Roland!  I thought you were dead.  Did you expect me
to turn down LaCroix's offer to pick the next one?"

Quickly he went to her and pulled her into his embrace.  "Non Janette, you
misunderstand.  I would never deny you anything nor resent you in any way."
He smiled.  "Although, you could have at least waited a year before going
off to the next lover."  Bending down, he softly kissed her lips then gently
pulled away to look at her.  "I needed to leave, and you needed to forget."
Moving from her, he sat down on one of the bar stools near the counter, then
again directed his attention to his sister.  "What did LaCroix say happened
to me?"

Before she spoke, she reached over and began to pour another drink.  "He
said that you were still in the castle that we used to occupy during the day
when it burned down.  He said that you had been trapped by the daylight, and
could not escape the flames."

"OUCH!  That would hurt!  And you never thought to question him?"

"I was barely two hundred years old, and I would never have questioned
anything he said then."

"And do you now?"

Feeling hurt, she indignantly turned away and finished a third drink.
Rising from his seat, he rushed to face her.

"I'm sorry Janette.  You know how I feel about his interference with our
lives.  Actually, I'm glad that you felt free to choose another.  It was the
only way I could escape."

"Then LaCroix knows that you are still alive?"

"Of course, but thankfully he has allowed me to move on.  A large part due
to you and Nichola.  I guess that the two of you have provided him with more
than enough distractions that kept him from pursuing me."  Taking her hand
in his, he brought her towards the richly embossed love seat in the
adjoining room. "Please, sit with me so we can talk."  Giving his hand a
gentle squeeze, she sat close to him and looked into his eyes.

"Why did you leave me, Roland?"

"My disappearance was for everyone's good.  LaCroix was able to say that I
was dead and save face.  You were free to choose another, and I was free to
go my own way -not LaCroix's way."

"But you stayed away so long."

Moving an arm around her shoulders, he sighed.  "The truth is that I never
planned on returning.  It is too dangerous."

"Then why are you here now?"

"Janette, tell me about my brother, tell me about Nichola.  I would ask
LaCroix, but I doubt he would be receptive to me.  He might even try to make
my supposed death a reality."

"Why do you want to know about Nichola?"

"I'm here because of him in a way."

Starting to feel like she was being used, her voice sounded annoyed.  "Then
go and speak to him yourself!"

"I intend to, but I thought a little introduction from you might make things
easier for both of us.  After all, even if he were to believe that I am his
long lost brother, he may not be too happy to discover that it was my
departure that precipitated him being brought across."

Feeling irritated, she glared angrily at him.  "You left me alone with
LaCroix!  Why should I help you?"

Tenderly raising his hand to her face, he again began to gently stroke her
cool skin.  His dark brown eyes lovingly met hers.  " Janette, you have
never been unhappy as a vampire, and I envy you that.  Did you ever know
that I was the one who told LaCroix of your mortal whereabouts?  I selected
you to be my sister.  To release you from that vile place in which you were
a mortal slave."

"So I should thank you for changing my status from mortal slave to eternal
vampire slave?"

"You had a chance to choose just like the rest of us.  I did not create your
situation.  You could have gone back to your prostitution, he would not have
taken you.  At least you had that chance to choose, and you chose wisely.
You were saved from your world, I was forced from mine."

Intrigued by his words, she allowed the harshness she had just shown him to
melt away.  "You never told me Roland, what happened between you and LaCroix
before me?  What made you hate him so?  You were his son for almost four
hundred years, yet there was always something dark that separated the two of
you."

"I promise to tell you soon Janette, but for now I need to know of Nichola
and his search for humanity."

A surprised expression crossed her face.  "For someone who has been dead for
almost eight hundred years, you seem to know too much already.  How do you
know of his quest?"

"There are some things among our kind that cannot be hidden, and throughout
the centuries I have always kept track, and out of the way, of my family."

As she stared deeply into his expressive eyes, her body began to ache for
his touch.  The longing for their past relationship ignited inside her.  The
desire to be near him pulled at her fangs, and she wanted to be a part of
him again.  She wanted to taste his blood.  Sliding closer to him, she began
to unbutton his shirt.  Then licking at his neck she whispered seductively
to him. "I can think of a way for you to gather the information that you
seek without the bother of talking."

Turning towards her, he smiled.  "I was just thinking the same thing
myself."

Lovingly, he ran his fingers through her long dark hair, as she gazed back
at him, and their eight hundred year separation seemed like just a flash in
time as he picked her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

End Part 2

Sliding off the bed, Roland began to redress as he leaned over to give his
sister a kiss.

"Didn't LaCroix teach you anything?  Or are you in the habit of not holding
anything back?"

Seductively, she smiled back, "Not everything, Roland."

"Are you kidding?  I even know the name of your nanny when you were two
years old." he smirked, "Don't you have that best selling book 'Everything
you wanted to know about being a vampire, but were afraid to ask?' Remind me
to give you a few pointers before I leave."

"Leave?  You just arrived.  So you only came to me for the information in my
blood?"

"I came to you despite the information you provided me, but it was a good
excuse.  I guess I was more informed than I thought, but I did happen to
notice that you have not remained faithful to me these past centuries."

Rising from the bed, Janette resentfully moved before her brother and
confronted him.  "Did you expect for me to be celibate for a man who
supposedly died almost eight hundred years ago?"  Fuming, she turned away.

Taking hold of her arm, he tenderly pulled her back to face him.  "No, of
course not."  Trying to think of a way to make up for the insensitivity that
he had shown her, he suddenly had an idea.

"How would you like to hear a bed time story about a time and a place that
existed two hundred years before you were born?"

Delightedly, Janette's eyes lit up.  "Really Roland?  After all these years,
you will finally tell me of your first encounter with LaCroix?"

Smiling at her enthusiasm, he teased her.

"I had better tell you.  I can't hold my breath that long waiting for you to
discover the information from my blood."

Throwing him a vicious glare, she impatiently pulled at him.  "So, are you
going to tell me or torment me?"

"Please Janette, don't have me make any more difficult decisions today."
Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa and pulled her close as she sat down
next to him.  With the smile from his teasing of her fading, he turned his
attentions to having his sister lean comfortably against him, and to their
birthplace nearly two hundred years before his sister's eternal life began.

****** Flashback ******

"My Country of France was very poor, but not my family.  I was of noble
blood, and the only son of the king's personal advisor.  The sick and the
poor were everywhere, but not around us.  We lived on the court's grounds.
Each day my two younger sisters would sit with my Mother and the other
ladies of the court.  They were taught to sew and to keep themselves out of
trouble, while I would follow my father around as long as I did not have
classes to attend.  Oh yes, the classes!  Words cannot describe their
intensity and the feeling of power they inspired.  We were taught to ride
the horses and to fight.  We were all males, of course, and all quite young
by today's standards.  I was sixteen when I was prepared for battle, but
many of the others were even younger, some less than ten.  Much emphasis was
placed on hand to hand combat, but I excelled with the swords.  They were
heavy, not like the metals of today.  It would take all of my strength to
lift the weapon, and I would be exhausted after practicing with it for only
a short while.  Our teacher would place wooden pillars around the yards, and
would have us believe that they were the enemy.  We were taught to hack at
the poles as if our lives depended on it, for one day we all knew that it
would.  When I grew older, I was sent off to war with my king.  Charlemagne
was a brilliant and talented fighter, and we had many victories.  I was in
my mid twenties when the wars ended, and of course we were victorious.  The
time of peace that followed was magical at the palace, and I was free to
wander anywhere on the courtyards.  For me it was a time of wonder, and I
was in awe of the splendor of all around me.  The castle's dining room
tables never wanted for food.  I doubted that I could have given names to
all the different varieties of exotic dishes and fruits. I had never seen so
much abundance, and I never failed to walk by the fireplaces to watch the
endless rows of pots simmering with their delicacies. But of all the plenty
that we had been blessed with, what caught my eye the most was the stunning
women of the court.  I was surrounded in the splendor and elegant charm of
an endless parade of enticing fair ladies, but it was Tyfainne that captured
my heart.  Barely a woman at sixteen, she was the most exquisite maiden that
I had ever encountered.  On warm summer nights, we would secretly meet in
the gardens, and spend what seemed like a spellbinding eternity gazing into
each others eyes.  Our favorite rendezvous was at the Hot Springs that
Charlemagne had turned into a private bath house for only his family and the
closest of staff.  So many nights, the two of us would steal away in the
early hours and share the privacy of the bath house for ourselves. The most
erotic hours I have ever spent were with Tyfainne, for it was there that we
explored our love for each other and were lost to all else in the world.  It
was obvious to us that our love was like no other, and soon we made
arrangements with our parents to marry.  We were overjoyed the day we heard
that Charlemagne had given his blessing, and the preparations began.
Surely, our love could not wait for mere words to permit us to be joined,
and we continued to meet secretly in the night to seek the closeness that we
shared. I was a prisoner to her love, and there was nothing I would not have
done for her had she asked.  She was my only world, my only reason to live.

It was the night before I was to wed my treasure that I became personally
acquainted with LaCroix.  I had seen him fight along side Charlemagne on
many occasions, and I knew him by sight and reputation, but I had never
exchanged words with him.  His look had always frightened me, and I saw no
reason to learn anything more of him.  Many said that he had sold his soul
to the devil for they had witnessed him being run through with a sword, yet
never fall in defeat.  One of my friends swore to me that he saw an enemy
warrior cut off his entire arm during a battle, yet only to see him whole in
less than an hour with no damage at all.  So I was content to be far from
this man, no matter how close he was to our king who seemed to love him
dearly.  It was on this fateful night that I had gone to the usual site near
the fountains, only to find my lovely Tyfainne draped across this vile man's
arms.  My first thought was that she was lifeless, and I ran without
thinking towards the demon that so effortlessly carried her. But as I
approached, he ordered me to stop, and he stared at me with eyes the color
of fire.  His glare and voice stopped me in my tracks, and I even turned to
run until I remembered what this monster held within his hands.  My innocent
Tyfainne, was in his clutches.  My mind raced wildly for possible plans to
remove her from the situation, but there was no other choice but to fight
this evil.  I braced myself, reminding myself that I had fought much greater
enemies for my king and Country.  This battle would be for no less.
Enraged, I faced and approached him, while fear of whatever he was, beat
hard in my chest and throat.  As I neared him, I was able to see that my
delicate belle still breathed, and tears of relief began to cloud my eyes.
I could not hide my fear for her life, and my first words to him vibrated
with terror.

"What do you want with her?"

"No Roland, you have misinterpreted my motives."

When I heard him use my name, I could hardly breathe from the weight of the
shock, but I struggled so as not to lose this battle before it began, and I
pushed on.

"You know my name.  I am but one of many.  How can this be?"

"You are wrong again, Roland.  I have been watching your movements since you
were but a child.  You are of nobility, and you have much potential.  I only
wish to place you in a position that better suits you."

His words mesmerized me briefly, but then I shook it off, and my bitterness
returned.

"Release Tyfainne, so that she may awaken and return home!"

Looking down on his prey, he smiled then glared back at me.

"Wouldn't she then miss your nightly rendezvous?  Yes, I have been
watching."

I must have gone mad with anger at that point, for I foolishly drew my sword
and held it out towards him.  I remember hearing my voice tremble as I tried
to show no fear.

"Let her go NOW or I will have to harm you sir."

His only response was a short laugh at first, but that suddenly transformed
into a terrifying snarl which revealed two long white teeth.  I had never
encountered such a beast in my life, and I jumped back as I found it
impossible to withdraw my gaze from the fangs that glistened in the moon's
light.  It was at that point that LaCroix placed my love on her feet next to
him, and began to lick her neck.  Then turning to me, he challenged me.

"Why don't you come here and get her brave warrior?"

I had run out of all ideas and any hope that I could save her.  This was an
enemy that I had not been prepared to fight, and I did not know how to
defend Tyfainne nor myself.  I sadly looked at the beauty that was soon to
be my wife.  Her eyes were wide open, yet she saw nothing.  She breathed,
but only enough to sustain her precarious life.  I called out to her to try
and break her of her trance.  "TYFAINNE!"  She never even twitched a muscle,
she was locked into a world that I could never reach.  My eyes drifted back
to LaCroix, and I almost pleaded to him this time.

"What have you done to her?  It is as if she is under a spell."

"She is under a spell!  My spell!  She would do my every bidding, even kill
you if I mentioned it.  But that is not my intention."

"Then what is it that you want?  What manner of demon are you?"

"I am what you will soon be.  I have been alive for over seven centuries, a
long time to be without any family.  In my mortal life, the gods never
blessed me with a son.  I have searched a very long time for you."

Suddenly, everything became clear to me, and I knew that I had no options of
a safe escape for my Tyfainne and myself.  I looked hard at him as I spoke.

"I now know what you are, you are a creature of the night.  You can survive
only in darkness, and you feed on humans.  You ......are a vampire!"

Knowing that my fiancee was only a breath away from being his meal, I chose
my words carefully as I continued.  "And now you want me to live as you?  I
will not!  I want no part of you!  Release Tyfainne from her trance at once
and return her to me."

I watched as a condescending smile crossed his lips as he seemed unaffected
by my demands.

"Since you are soon to be my son and I your Father and master, we should
learn to communicate better.  You have no choice!  I have chosen you to
travel throughout eternity with me.  You will do as I demand."

"You are mistaken sir.  I do have a choice.  I would rather die than be a
part of your world."

"Oh yes, you will need to die first, but then I will need you to return to
me. As for Tyfainne, is it?  Yes Tyfainne.  Let us just say that she is my
guarantee then when you see that light, that you will turn away and come to
me to drink my blood.  I will keep her safely next to me until you come
back. Decide to walk into the light, then you only need to wait for her to
join you shortly thereafter."

"You would kill her?"

His answer came back to me colder than ice.  "Without even blinking!"

I knew that all was lost, yet I gave up all dignity and began to beg.

"Please sir, I will do anything if you only let us live in peace.  We are to
wed tomorrow."

"Touching, but I am afraid that you are going to have to change your plans."

I watched as he lifted then laid the love of my life down on the ivy draped
stone bench, and caressed her long dark curls.  When he finished with her,
he turned to me.

"It is up to you whether she sees the sun rise tomorrow."

I looked longingly at her.  The light from the moon had cast shadows of
light and dark across her youthful face.  She was too perfect to die at such
a tender age.  The thought struck me that I could return to her as a
vampire, and continue to love her.  So I turned to my captor and again
pleaded.

"If I do as you wish, would I be able to return to her and live with her
until her natural death?"

"Once you have become what I am, you cannot love her as a man.  Your desire
for her would kill her.  But there will be so many others, that you will
soon forget this one."

I remembered turning to look at her again, I felt like my life had already
been drained as I spoke.

"No, I will never forget her, and I only pray that she will not be grieved
by my absence."

"After you return to me, she will be made to not even remember your name.
Now Roland, your time has arrived.  My name is Lucien LaCroix, and you must
come to me."

My heart was broken as thoughts of never seeing her again or feeling her in
my arms filled my mind.  As I courageously approached my moment of death,
there was no fear.  I only felt the pain of what I was about to lose filling
my body and soul.  As he placed a hand on each of my shoulders, I never let
my eyes stray from the beauty who innocently slept in the warm summer's air.
  Then I felt the searing pain at the side of my neck, but I did not
struggle.  I simply closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, as I felt my mortal
life slip away.  Then I saw the light that he had referred to.  It was
captivating, so alluring that I felt drawn to it.  But then I heard
LaCroix's voice as if he were calling to me in my dreams.  He called for me
to come back to him, and I then remembered what he held hostage.  I turned
away from the light, and I never looked back.  The next thing I felt was his
sweet warm blood rolling down my throat.  It was finer than the richest wine
I had ever tasted, and all I could think of was how hungry I was.  When I
arose, I was weak, and I then learned what I must do in order to remain
alive and to be his son.  It was necessary for me to kill.  I had killed
many times before, but only in battle. I looked again at Tyfainne through my
new vampire eyes, and everything inside me strained to make her my first
meal.  It was LaCroix who stopped me, he could not have her die.  She was
the reason I remained.  Just then a servant on her way to the castle with
clean linens walked by.  LaCroix immediately hypnotized her, and she was to
be my first meal.  Satiated, I watched in agony as my new Father told my
love that she never heard of me.  Finally, I silently held back and watched
as she walked out of my life forever."

The story was over, and Roland looked over to his sister.  It was hard to
imagine that she had no comment on his story.  Moving her to the side, he
gazed at her sleeping features.  Smiling he realized that she had fallen
asleep during his reminiscence.  It was already late in the morning, and
they both did need their sleep today before meeting Nichola.  It was time
for him too to get some rest while the sun was still out.  Reaching
underneath his sister, he picked her up as he stood.  With a few immortal
steps, he placed her in bed and laid next her.  Hopefully Janette had heard
most of his painful story.  He had no intentions of ever telling it again.

End Part 3

Nicholas rested his glass of cow's blood on the window sill as he looked
below onto the moonlit streets of Toronto.  The first of the Winter's snow
had begun to fall, and he gazed out as everything became covered by the
white blanket. It was barely after 6:00 PM, yet it was already dark.  The
streets were at their height of activity as the snow fell on all the rush
hour citizens.  It was definitely more hectic than usual, the first snow,
though hardly an inch, had traffic crawling.  There were also many more
people struggling with heavy shopping bags.  They were most likely worried
that they would not have enough provisions if the storm were to worsen.  But
not all struggled in the snow as he peered out his window.  Smiling, he
watched as a young couple playfully threw snowballs at each other in the
lightly blowing snow.  The snow was so light that it appeared to have
trouble sticking to itself, and the snowball fell apart long before it made
contact with its target.  Unconsciously, he raised his half full glass to
drink, but was intercepted by Nat who seemed to magically appear before him.
  He startled for a moment as she guided his hand back down to the
windowsill to deposit the glass of blood.  Curiously, her eyes wandered to
the sight that had Nick so fascinated.

"I can see why you were distracted.  It's beautiful!"

"Yeah, it is, and no matter how often I see it, I never tire of it.  Its
simple purity.  Its cleansing whiteness."

As he again reached for his drink, Nat produced a full glass of the white
protein shake that she hoped he would substitute for his usual nourishment.
Taking the potion from her hand, he stared into the drink before clenching
his eyes and taking a long labored breath.  Opening his eyes, he could see
Nat's anticipation of his acceptance of this poor replacement, reflecting in
her eyes.  Holding the glass up to the moon light from outside, he mumbled
out loud.

"This is my reminder that assimilating the white, the pure, the light, is
not easy at first, but with much pain and time it may become more natural."
Lifting the glass higher he raised his voice.  "To my atonement."

Bringing the glass's rim so that it gently rested on his lips, he steeled
himself for the first sip.  Swallowing fast, he willed the horrid liquid to
remain inside him.  It burned and tore at him internally as if he had
swallowed acid.  Looking into Natalie's eyes he smiled and ran his hand
gently down the side of her cheek.

"Another small step towards my mortality, so many more on this journey."

"The small steps count Nick!  Look at all those tiny snowflakes that are
falling.  Each is needed, each is a part of this beautiful picture.  You
have to believe in yourself and what you are doing."

Staring down into the milky white mixture, he mournfully whispered.  "Yeah,
I know."

As he began to raise the white drink for another agonizing sip, the
telephone rang.  Nat watched as he placed the full goblet of white on the
sill next to the other glass before crossing the room to answer the phone.
The call was short, but Nat could tell that it was important by the tone in
Nick's voice.  After replacing the receiver, he looked over towards her and
asked.

"Does the name Orah mean anything to you?"

"I've read that she will be in town for the next few days to perform to a
very large audience.  There never seems to be a problem finding an unlimited
number of gullible victims."

"Victims?  You do not believe?"

"Nick, for heaven's sake, she's a faith healer.  Nothing more than a magic
act for people who need to believe.  Are you asking me if I believe that the
blind can see with her help?  Then my answer would be a definite of course
not!"

"Her life has been threatened.  That was the Captain just now.  She wants
Schanke and myself to keep an eye on her during her stay in Toronto."

"Well, I've heard that she is quite beautiful, probably part of her charm,
but be careful Nick.  You tend to be vulnerable to false hope."

"You just told me to have faith, and now you advise against it?"

"I told you to have faith in yourself, because that is the only place that
it is real and lasting.  Faith comes from within, don't look anywhere else
for it."

Twisting around, Nat scooped up the milky drink from the sill and held it up
to him.

"How about another one of those small steps?"

Moving close to her, he gently kissed her on the forehead then went back
across the room to retrieve his long black trench coat.  As he headed for
the door, he stopped and turned back to her.

"I'll have to go that short distance another time Nat. The Captain said that
Schanke is waiting for me at the auditorium where Orah will be performing."

Giving her a quick smile, he turned back towards the elevator and stepped
in. As the elevator door slid closed, she went to retrieve the other drink
from the sill.  With one hand carrying the cow's blood and the other
carrying the protein shake, she moved to the sink and poured them both down
the drain.

******

Nicholas slid comfortably behind the Caddy's steering wheel, and started the
car.  Pressing the button on the remote, he opened the garage door, and
drifted out into the night.  Every street in the city had been covered in a
fine layer of snow; only tire tracks marked its perfection.  As he paused at
the first traffic light, he watched as each blowing snowflake glittered as
it passed through the head light beams.  It was cold, he knew it, but he
could not feel it.  In fact, he could not even remember the sensation after
all these years, but it was important to dress like he could feel it or too
much suspicion would be aroused.  Reaching over, he played with the controls
for the heater, but they did not work.  The heater might never have worked,
he had only noticed it when his partner complained while riding with him.
Each of his breaths were easily visible because of the frigid temperatures,
but he was comfortable in any dark climate.  Although everyone complained
about the snow's inconvenience, it was always special to him.  The bright
reflection of the snow was his own personal way of being immersed by the
light without burning.  It was a form of purity that did not hurt him.  It
was white, and the color white was made up of all the rays of the sun.  Even
though being mortal and feeling the freezing air would have been preferable,
it was still a rare gift to be able to enjoy the snow without its cold
companion.  A smile began to form as he wondered what poison LaCroix would
have to comment about the start of the Winter season.  Leaning over to reach
the radio, he flipped it on and music filled the car.  It was not his music
of choice, but much better than the regular depressing melodies.  After a
few minutes of driving and listening to the strange harmony, the voice of
his Master interrupted the CERK rhythm.

"Good evening gentle listeners.  There seems to be a storm brewing tonight.
A change in the weather.  But it is not the snow to which I am referring.
The disturbance of which I speak is not physical in nature. It is a squall
of a different kind.  It is a spiritual turbulence of which I speak, and
revolves around faith and the one who heals with it.  Listen dear listeners
and think. Think about where your faith comes from.  Is what you call faith
real, or is it only another desire?  Faith is nothing more than a cruel
joke.  A tool that was invented to allow you to believe in the impossible.
Faith is merely a word.  A word that describes the act of believing in what
we cannot see. There are many who are in asylums for claiming no more.  We
are deemed good to believe in what we cannot prove if it is faith, but
branded as insane when we speak of what we cannot see in all other aspect of
our lives.  And is this belief that you strive to attain a benefit to you?
When your faith wavers do you ask, what is wrong with me?  Does faith make
the poor wealthy or the sick well?  No!  Yet we feel less adequate when we
lose this faith.  How many Mothers have fruitlessly cried for their sick
babies?  How many have held to their faith while being tortured and killed?
And how many watched their lives destroyed, yet clung to their faith?  Faith
only mocks us, it gives us nothing of value in return.  Hold fast to faith
and it will give you nothing but pain.

How comforting to believe that there exists a divine plan or an answer for
everything.  How soothing a thought to know that if you only believe
strongly enough, that your suffering will end.  If this were true, then it
would be only a personal level of belief that prevents you from achieving
the impossible.  Do you really believe that?  Haven't you lived long enough
to know better than that?  Only a fool believes all things!"

The Caddy interior became deathly silent.  With his Master's last words, the
radio frequency seemed to disappear.  Not even the music returned, allowing
only the words of his Father to swirl in his head.  Turning off the sound of
dead air, he murmured to himself.

"Only a fool believes?  Then let me be such a fool."

As he drove, LaCroix's message nagged at him.  Not that it was any surprise
that his Master knew of his struggles in maintaining his faith, but it was
unsettling that he had also alluded to the faith healer's presence.  If
LaCroix had bothered to mention her arrival, then there must be something
more to her than mere theatrics.  Also strange was that his Father directed
his attack at him and his faith, and not at the faith healer.  LaCroix was
trying to make him doubt his own faith, as if how much faith he had would
make a difference.  Maybe this faith healer's appearance was a threat to his
Master's power over him.  But he did have to be careful, Nat was right.
There were too many instances where he had been led astray by unscrupulous
prophets with false hopes.  In his desperation to regain his humanity, he
had undergone torturous treatments and trusted the unprincipled.  Even now,
going in with his eyes wide open, he knew that he was easy prey for anyone
who would promise to show him the way to his salvation.  But he had no
reason to even speak with this faith healer.  All he had to do was to keep
her safe until she moved her show to the next town.  Taking in a sharp deep
breath, he relaxed.  There really wasn't much to this assignment after all.
Seeing that he was not far from the building where Orah would be performing,
he reached down under his seat and felt around for the police light.
Grabbing hold of it, he brought it up and placed it on his dashboard.  He
was not in the mood to start searching for a place to park his large car,
and with his flashing lights he would be able to drive directly to the Hall
without any obstacles.  After securing the fixture, he turned on its
flashing red lights and siren and glided into a spot directly in front of
the highly secured building.  Leaving the light flashing but the sound off,
he exited the Caddy and began to scan the area.  Large groups of hopeful
believers poured out from buses and onto the pavement, and long lines began
forming down the snow covered street.  There were so many that patiently
waited in wheel chairs and with crutches or canes.  The line grew as the
police took the time to search each visitor to be certain that each was free
of weapons before granting them access.  A sudden wave of disgust mixed with
pity flooded him.  All these pathetic souls searching for a magical answer
to their problems.  So much tragedy was represented here, yet there was also
so much faith and hope.  If he were not here on business, would he have come
to join the sorrowful masses?  There really was no difference between
himself and these hopefuls.  There was no easy way to a cure.

A firm hand slapped him on the back causing him to turn around startled.  As
he turned he saw the satisfied grin of his partner.  Rubbing his hands
together, Schanke tried to generate some heat as he savored Nick's reaction.
Making his perfect partner jump was one of the perks of his job.

"Glad you decided to join us from the Twilight Zone Knight.  Luckily, we get
to watch the soothesayer from the inside.  I'm freezing my tail off out
here."

"Captain Cohen said that there has been a threat on her life.  Anything more
on that?"

"We had a phone number traced, but it led to a phone booth.  The interesting
thing is that it's that telephone on the corner down there.  Probably just
some nut trying to have some fun.  Let's face it, you can't throw a stone
around here without hitting one of these loonies.  Anyway, I've been around
the building a few times, and it looks as if we have two access points.  The
front door here and a small service door in the back.  Both of them are
heavily guarded."

"Let's go in then Schank, and check the situation in there."

Both detectives moved across the snow covered sidewalks, with each step
crushing the newly fallen snow beneath their feet.  A cold wind caused
Schanke to pull his long coat closer together, but the change in temperature
went unnoticed by his partner.  As they drew closer to the door both
detectives produced their badges, and squeezed past the crowds.  They
stepped into the main hall where at least fifty more people waited for seats
to the show. Finally they were able to negotiate a path through the hall
where they would take their positions.  Studying the crowds, Nick couldn't
help but think of all those who would not gain admission and would be turned
away tonight. Maybe the ones who could not get in would be better off.  At
least they would not be racked with the pain of having their hopes crushed.
Moving around was difficult in the tightly packed room, but at first glance
the security seemed to be well done.  There were no windows or obstructed
areas to be concerned about, and the layout of the uniformed officers made
it impossible to get near the stage without tremendous effort.  Leaning
against the wall, he looked down at his watch.  The show should have begun
thirty minutes ago.  As he looked up, he noticed that the guards from the
hall were starting to close the huge doors that led to the room they were
in.  The sound of the two doors closing was joined with the dimming of the
lights, and the room fell silent as all eyes focused on the stage.  The room
became as dark as night, and Schanke moved along side of Nick and gave the
whole idea of protecting someone in the dark a disapproving shake of his
head.  After acknowledging his partner's silent objection with a nod, Nick
turned his attentions back to surveying the crowds.  With the room's uncanny
silence, he needed no reminder that this theatrical production was about to
begin.  All eyes seemed riveted to the stage's curtains as they suddenly
began to glow with an eerie red illumination.  Slowly the curtains separated
enough in the middle to reveal a veiled woman seated on a chair that was
meant to resemble a throne.  The back of the chair towered at least two
meters above her head, and was embedded with tiny pieces of broken mirror
that cast long streams of light over the audience.  The hush was soon
shattered as a voice rang out from over the speakers that were dispersed
throughout the room.

"Orah is now in a trance.  She is reaching down into the deepest part of her
soul to help you.  Her name means light.  She is your light to follow into a
new life.  A life of health and goodness.  You have come here to be healed.
You have come to the right place.  Orah will shine her inner light on as
many of you as she can."

A smirk crossed Schanke's face as he leaned over to whisper to Nick.

"At $100.00 a person, I would shine too."

Nick only replied to Schanke's comment with a short irritated wave of his
hand in which he tried to communicate to his partner that he was not
interested in hearing any more of his editorials.  Then his eyes turned
abruptly back to the stage, as a long collective sigh arose from the
audience.  Orah had arisen from her chair, and although hardly audible Nick
heard her words.

"I am ready now."

End Part 4

The lights in the room slowly began to get brighter as she removed her veil
and began to descend the few steps that led from the stage.  His gaze was
fastened to her, and he could not look away.  It was impossible not to look
at her, for with each movement she would radiate more.  His eyes gradually
drifted down her long black hair, and he followed each wave as it swayed
freely around her oval face.  His vision then effortlessly wandered to her
warm dark eyes, as she studied the hopeful group before her.  Then lovingly,
she moved towards a small boy in the first row.  Moving carefully so as not
to frighten him, she gently smiled as she bent down to touch his youth sized
wheel chair.  All watched as she closed her eyes and desperately explored
the boys body with her hands.  With great interest Nick watched as she
grimaced from pain as her fingers passed over certain areas of his legs.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she trembled while holding his hands, and
spoke to him as though the two of them were the only ones in the room.

"How tiny and innocent you are to live with this much darkness.  I am going
to press on your legs, and I might hurt you a little bit, but it will be
fine. Do not be frightened.  I can feel where the blackness dwells within
you, and I want to try to get it to move away.  But I need you to help me.
Will you do that?"

The frightened boy nodded as Orah stood over him and placed a hand on each
of his thighs, as she continued to talk to him.

"I want you to concentrate on the places I touch.  When you feel me press
hard, I want you to scream out.  I want you to tell the darkness to leave.
Are you ready?"

Again he nodded.  As she began to apply what looked to be like a great
amount of pressure, her breathing started to become labored.  There was no
reason to remind him to scream as he cried out in pain from the pressure
that she administered.  Still pressing, she calmly reminded him to direct
the darkness to leave, and he complied through his tears.  And as she
matched him tear for tear, she coaxed him to yell louder.  Then abruptly,
she pulled away, and extended her arms out to the still sobbing child.  With
great courage the boy reached out to her from his wheel chair, but she
backed further away.  After leaning forward as far as he could, he pushed
his foot off the chair's footrest and unsuccessfully attempted a step.  As
he fell to the floor, several of the adults rushed to his rescue, but Orah
yelled out.  "NO!"  Again she smiled as she looked down on the boy who lay
crumpled on the ground and reached out towards him as she spoke.

"There is no more darkness inside of you.  There is only the light, bright
and strong.  I know you can feel it."

Without taking his eyes off her, the child pulled himself up with the help
of his wheelchair and clung to its side.  Again, he moved towards Orah's
hand, but this time his legs supported his body.  His tears turned to
laughter as he took one step then another.  In a moment he was in her arms,
and the excited crowd began to rush her.  Immediately Nick and Schanke were
at her side, but it was her own personal body guards that were prepared for
this and did an admirable job at protecting her.  As all this happened, one
of Orah's crew moved to usher the boy and his Mother into a back room behind
the stage. Suddenly the room became filled with the words and cries of those
who pleaded to be next.  The veil was once again placed over her face as she
wearily leaned against one of her two body guards who guided her back to the
stage and into her chair.  With great interest, Nick continued to glance
back as he and his partner pushed their way through the crowd and back to
their original positions.  When they arrived Schanke just starred at him
with a huge smirk across his face.

"You're not falling for this hocus pocus Knight, are you?  I saw a better
magic act at Jenny's last birthday party."

"But you saw that, he walked!"

"Yeah, probably almost as good as he did before the show."

"You think this was all staged?"

"You don't?  Come on Nick, you know she's got to have a few shills stationed
in the group.  She's got to make it look good or they wouldn't keep coming
back with the big bucks."

"We still need to protect her."

"Yeah, but I think that we should be protecting these poor suckers from her.
What a crock!"

Nick's eyes turned from Schanke as the room again began to darken, and both
put themselves back on guard.  As the following couple of hours impressively
passed, Nick watched as one devastating disability after another was healed
by Orah.  It was quite a spectacular show as Nick counted five who could now
walk, two who could now see, and even a disfiguring skin condition vanish
before his eyes.  But now after two non-stop hours, Orah fell exhausted to
the floor.  And although she begged her body guards to allow her to
continue, she was helped up and the show was proclaimed over.  The crowd's
mood changed as those she did not get to, angrily demanded more time with
her.  Reluctantly, she pulled away, for it was clear to her that she had
used up all of her physical and emotional strength during the performance.
Ushers began to fill the aisles to direct the disappointed patrons towards
the outside lobby where they could exit the building.  Without losing Orah
from his sight, Nick gestured for Schanke to follow him to where she was
being moved to.  As Orah and her entourage disappeared behind the curtains,
the two detectives were close behind.  As Nick pushed through the curtains
to catch up with the departing group. a huge hand grabbed him by the front
of his jacket. Effortlessly, Nick brushed the body guard off him and
produced his badge.

"I'm Detective Knight and this is Detective Schanke of Metro homicide, and
we have been assigned to protect Orah during her stay here in Toronto."

"Homicide?  Aren't you guys being a little premature?  They were only
threats, no one has died here."

"Nevertheless, we have been assigned to make sure Orah stays safe."

"Well I don't know who called you guys, but we have the situation under
control.  It's not uncommon to get someone upset because they feel cheated
that Orah didn't get to them.  So we can handle it."

Pushing in front of his partner, Schanke spoke up.

"Listen, we have our orders, and until we hear differently from our Captain
we are going to be sticking to you like glue.  Comprende?  So where are we
going?"

Conceding that he was not going to win this battle, one of the guards
hesitatingly answered.

"After the show, Orah needs to recover.  We will take her back to the
hotel."

Schanke smiled, "Fine, we'll give you a police escort."

It was now Nick's turn to intercede as the one guard seemed to ignore his
partner's words and moved to leave without their protection.  Handing the
Caddy's keys to Schanke, Nick pushed past Orah and her small group.

"Schanke, why don't you bring the Caddy around the back here, and we will
wait for you?"

Mumbling something only Nick could hear, Schanke turned towards the front of
the room to retrieve the car as his partner had asked, and Nick turned his
attention to the beautiful miracle worker.  It had been the first time he
had seen her close up, other than when the crowd had mobbed her after she
had healed the small boy.  And now in the more natural glow of the overhead
lighting, her intense attractiveness made him feel as if he were in the
presence of a goddess.  She had remained silent since he had been back
stage, as the decisions about who would be protecting her went on around her
and were made by others.  Listening to the strain of her heart, he could
hear how diminished she had left herself from her performance, and he
wondered how she had the will to stand.  He had never witnessed another like
her, and he fully understood why her name meant light.  It was as if an aura
of light encompassed and embraced her.  Standing in awe of her power, he
silently watched as her bodyguard helped with her coat.  When they looked
ready, he stepped outside first to check the alley before the other's
exited.  Feeling uncomfortable about this avenue of departure, he cautiously
looked around. The area was dark except for the one bulb that burned over
the back doorway, and Schanke was nowhere in sight.  As he looked down the
long alley way, the bodyguards who were anxious to leave, pushed past him
and moved towards their parked limo.  They moved as one into the alley, but
froze as they heard the roar of a car's engine as a vehicle rushed towards
them.  The car had been covered with snow, and Nick and the guard who had
been posted at the back door had assumed it to be empty when they had seen
it at the far end of the alley. But now it screeched towards the three with
increasing acceleration.  With immortal speed, Nick slammed into Orah's
group, and pushed her out of harm's way.  The car screeched onto the main
street just as Schanke was about to pull the Caddy into the alley.  It was
only Schanke's well judged reaction that prevented the speeding car from
hitting him head on.  Steering the car to the side and hitting the brakes,
he stopped and ran to find his partner and the others sprawled across the
snowy ground.  Relieved to see them stir as he approached them, he arrived
as Nick began to help Orah up.  Moving her into a sitting position, she
blankly stared at him as he gently shook her.

"Are you all right?"

There was no response to Nick's question as she transferred her stare to
where he held her arms.  Suddenly a violent shudder crossed over her, and
she pushed his hands off her.  Then stumbling up, she began to back away.
Nick tried to reach for her, but she only stared at him in horror.

"I think she's going into shock Schank.  Call the paramedics, I'll check on
the others."

Warily, Orah continued to back away until her body was against the building
on the other side of the alley.  She then began to shake, but Nick could
tell that she had not sustained any physical injuries so he turned to help
the others.  He could hear that one was in significant distress.
Immediately he could see that one of her guards had already stood up and was
brushing the dirt mixed with snow from himself, but the other remained
unmoving.  Rapidly, Nick went to him, then yelled over to Schanke.

"This one is badly hurt!  Tell them to get here right away!"

Feeling a presence, he suddenly looked up.  Orah had moved from the wall,
and was now standing over him and the injured body guard.  Carefully, she
began to stoop down and run her fingers over her bodyguards damaged body.
Her body swayed, and her eyes rolled back as she began to lose consciousness
and her balance.  Quickly, he reached over to stop her from falling.

"The paramedics are on their way.  You need to rest.  Let the professionals
handle this."

Taking in a deep breath, Orah gathered as much strength as she could and
tried to again heal her bodyguard.  As she placed her hands on the guard's
bleeding chest, she pleaded to Nick.

"Let me try to help him.  He needs my help!"

With her words, she began to fall backwards, but Nick grasped her hand and
looked deeply into her eyes.  Then picking up the sound of her heart, he
locked onto each of its beats as he spoke to her.

"You need to rest......Ahhhhhh......."  A pain similar to being struck by
lightning ripped through him exploding into their locked glance, and he was
knocked over.  Blinded, he clutched both eyes with his hands and rolled in
the snow as the pain consumed him.  Her gaze had burned him, and he screamed
out as Orah collapsed unconscious to the ground.  Taking in the whole scene,
Schanke was overwhelmed, not knowing which way to turn first.  A moment
before, he had begun to move back to them, but now he reached for the police
radio in Nick's car and demanded both police and medical back up.  After
hearing the dispatchers acknowledgment, he got to his partner just as he was
beginning to recover from Orah's gaze.  Helping him up, Schanke's voice was
both frantic and concerned.

"Nick, what happened?  I didn't think the car hit you."

Rubbing his sore eyes, he could see only large shapes as he tried to focus
on his partner.

"No Schank, I was not hit.  I do not know what happened.  My eyes started to
feel as if they were burning, but I'm fine now.  I'm sorry I frightened
you."

The paramedic's truck was the first to arrive, and both detectives were
grateful to see it.  Within a moment, several other emergency vehicles
entered making the alley come to life with their colored flashing lights
that simultaneously bounced reflections from building to building.  After
regaining most of his sight, Nick moved over towards where the paramedics
were assisting Orah.  As he looked down, he could see that she had fainted.
But was she that way because of her physical state, or because of their
shared glance just a few moments ago?  Something powerful had taken place
when he tried to enter her mind, something he had never before experienced.
Her gaze burned him like the sun, and his hypnotic attempt weakened her into
unconsciousness.  Taking a step back, he watched as the medical team worked
on Orah and her body guard. The team worked frantically, but the man's heart
slowed then stopped.  Several minutes went by as they shocked, pounded, and
used drugs to get his heart to start, but it was to no avail.  A hush filled
the alley as dozens of officers stood and watched.  Breaking the silence,
one of the medical team called out to stop the resuscitation attempt and to
call it.  The next sound was the voice of the young medical assistant
calling out the time.  It was 10:37 PM.

Sadly Nick looked down, then over to the paramedic's truck where Orah had
been moved and now lay.  A strong reassuring pat on his shoulder, caused him
to turn to see that his partner had moved next to him.

"Looks like this is a homicide case now."

Sighing, and with his eyes still inflamed, he shifted his gaze back to the
strange but fascinating woman who was being prepared for the ambulance ride
to the hospital.  What had happened when he looked into her eyes?  What had
happened when he reached out and touched her soul?  In all his years as a
vampire, he had never felt such scorching temperatures from another's eyes.
The enchanting beauty that now slept, was divine.  He was sure of that.  In
her resided a spirit so holy, so pure, that his mere touch had sent her into
convulsions.  Somehow, he believed, that she had no idea of how
extraordinary she really was, but it was clear to him.  What he had heard
must be true.  It does take the dark to realize and appreciate the light.
No one was filled with more darkness than himself, and she had been blessed
with an unusual gift of purity of which he had never before encountered.
How curious to meet ones opposite: how unique.  The smartest thing for him
to do right now would be to run and never face her again, but he could not
do that.  Maybe it was the fact that they were opposites that made him feel
the attraction to be near her. Just like opposite poles on a magnet, he felt
drawn to her.  He needed to know more, to understand her and to have her
understand him.  Coming to his senses, he stopped all his wild thoughts from
proceeding any further.  What was he thinking?  What madness was this?  She
would probably be unable to tolerate his presence.  He already knew that she
could not tolerate his touch.  What did he want from her?  He had no answer
to that, but he knew that he could not just let this go.  For some unknown
reason, he would follow this through as far as it would take him.  Was there
anything to be gained by pursuing her? There had to be, but what?  Maybe it
was only his instincts telling him to follow this enchanting beauty.
Whatever drove him now, it did not matter. This was as close to a religious
experience that he had ever had, and this was right.  Abruptly, he was
startled back into reality as Schanke waved a hand in front of his face.

"Are you sure that you are okay?"  Then he realized that Nick couldn't take
his eyes off the alluring woman.  "Don't worry about her, she is going to be
fine.  I spoke to medics, and they said that she is just stressed out and
shaken up.  Listen, I'm going to make sure that forensics gets down here
ASAP. Why don't you ride with her to the hospital, and I'll meet you there
later." He watched as his partner nodded, then decided that now would be a
good time to ask.  "Nick, did you catch the plate number of the car?"

"No, It happened too quickly.  How about you?"

"It was all I could do to get out of the way from being the next victim.
That maniac was headed straight for me.  Then I had to make sure that all of
you were not hurt.  So I didn't go after him."

"You did the right thing Schanke."

"I hope Captain Cohen agrees with you.  Man O Man, how are we going to
explain this one?  Her two detectives are witnesses to a murder, and neither
can give a description of the car or the suspect.  Cohen is going to blow a
major artery or worse, blame us."

Rubbing his still burning eyes, he took a deep breath as he gazed into the
darkened sky.  The snow had slowed, and he let the last of the drifting
flakes fall into his eyes.  Its coolness helped to soothe his physical pain.
  In the background, he could hear that his partner had returned to the
scene and was directing several officers about the proper procedure of
securing a crime scene.  If he were not so absorbed by what had just
happened between Orah and himself, he would be trying to protect the young
officers from Schanke's over dramatization and perfectionism.  Tonight they
would have to be on their own. Whatever this woman was, one person had
already died because of her, and it looked as if the murderer had missed.
Anyone that intent on killing was sure to try again.  Any one that obsessed,
would strike without regard of innocent bystanders.  One thing was certain.
Orah was a target.  For all her goodness she had elicited another to murder.
  At his first opportunity, he would speak with her.  If he guided her, she
might recall something that would help them know what they are dealing with.

The paramedics began to prepare to leave, and Nick moved towards the closing
door to stop it.  With a quick flash of his badge, he jumped into the back
of the truck and sat off to the side.  He watched as the medic checked the
various tubes that now led to Orah.  Inside there was no sound aside from
the beeping of the heart monitor and the medic's occasional movements to
check the numbers on the machines.  As she slept, he watched her breathe.
It was as if he were watching an angel.

End Part 5

Onto Parts Six - Eleven!