Part 6
 

Both Roland and Janette landed outside the building that contained Nick's
loft.  Straightening her clothes from the flight, she felt the need to
explain her actions to her older brother.

"Nichola prefers to receive his guests by way of the elevator instead of the
sky light.  We are going to be enough of a surprise as it is."

"Is he really that determined to become mortal again?"

Reaching up, she keyed in the proper sequence of numbers on Nick's security
alarm, and pulled opened the door that led to the elevator in his building.

"He becomes more determined with each passing day.  Very much like you used
to be.  I am so glad that you have given up that absurd pursuit."

Stepping into the elevator, Janette pushed the button for the loft, and the
old machine creaked and groaned on its way to the top floor.  Shifting his
weight towards his sister, he leaned playfully against her.

"When did I mention that I had stopped pursuing mortality?"

Looking up, she stared at him in disbelief.

"It is not possible that after 1,200 years that you still regret the
decision you made."

With a hurt expression, he pulled away from her.

"Oh Janette, you never could understand.  You are truly your Father's
daughter."

She searched his eyes, and although she found his desire incomprehensible,
she realized that he was quite serious.  How could it have been that she
should fall in love with two who could not accept what they were?  Trying to
clear her mind, she turned her concentration back to exploring her senses,
as the noisy lift began slowing to a stop.  Discovering no sensation of her
sibling through their link, she twisted to address Roland.

"I do not feel Nichola, he must already be gone for the night."

The elevator stopped with a sudden jolt, and he reached across to slide open
the door for his sister.  Afraid that she might not wish to remain and help
him break the news of his existence to Nichola, he lovingly used his free
hand to caress her cheek as he spoke to her.

"Let's go in and wait Janette.  It is important that I meet with him."

Helping the door slide open, the sibling vampires walked into the loft that
was lighted with only one candle, and that taper was being held by their
Master, LaCroix.  Leaning comfortably back into the dark leather chair, the
master vampire slowly moved forward to replace the candlestick to the table
along side him, then folded his hands across his lap.

Catching Janette as she stumbled from the surprise of LaCroix's unexpected
appearance, Roland prudently smiled at his Father's penetrating glare.  Not
allowing himself to be intimidated, he spoke confidently.

"LaCroix!  Why you haven't changed a bit in eight hundred years!"

Extending his hand for a nearby glass of blood, LaCroix thoughtfully took a
sip then confidently returned the glass to its place.  Contemplating his
options, he shrewdly smiled.

"Roland, I am disappointed.  You have been in town for almost a week now,
and you never dropped by."

With that information, Janette's head snapped towards her brother, but his
eyes were fixed on LaCroix.  Frustrated, she spoke anyway.

"A week!"

Her words floated past him as he did not allow his concentration to be
divided.  Disregarding her reaction, he scrutinized his Father's every
action. Desperately trying to secure his Master's sensations, he found
himself to be unsuccessful.  Then with a deceptively calm voice, LaCroix
broke the silence.

"Give up Roland.  You are not competent enough to penetrate my thoughts.
You could not even feel that I was waiting for you just now.  But where are
my manners?  Come, sit down."

"It has been a long time, LaCroix.  Much too long to hold a grudge."

"A grudge?  Now why would I harbor a grudge against you?  Maybe for an
ungrateful child who betrays his family then disappears for centuries
without a word."

Watching the two of them beginning to rekindle their eternal battle, Janette
stepped between them and angrily confronted her Father.

"You told me he was dead.  Why was I not told?  I have a right to know about
my brother."

Her words broke the false peace that her Father was displaying, and he
rapidly stood up with his voice rising.

"A right?  You, like him, have only the rights that I give you!  It is time
for you to leave Janette.  I do believe you have a night club to run?  You
do not need to become over tired, especially after not sleeping for half the
day."

Hesitantly, she turned for reassurance from her brother.

"Roland.....?"

"Go Janette.  I'll be fine.  I knew when I arrived in Toronto that this
encounter could not be avoided.  Please let us talk in private.  I'm sorry
that I have involved you as much as I already have."

With controlled anger still in his voice, LaCroix directed his warning to
his daughter.

"Yes. Go Janette.  I will speak with you later."

Understanding his implied threat, she ignored it and continued to
indignantly express her feelings.

"I will go, but I do not appreciate being left in the dark.  After you talk
Roland, please stop by the Raven."

As the elevator door closed, blocking Janette from their view, LaCroix
motioned towards the sofa as he lowered himself back into his chair.  Twelve
hundred years of experience seemed to slip away from the vampire offspring
as he moved to sit near his Master.  Feeling like a fledgling again, he felt
helpless as LaCroix held each of his thoughts and emotions in the palm of
his hand.  Deciding to remain quiet, he waited for his Master to make the
first move.  The waiting was uneasy as thousands of memories of mortal and
vampire days rushed through his mind.

Seeing no reason to rush the excruciating silence, LaCroix sat back and
allowed himself to enjoy the tension that the stillness generated.  After
several intensely agonizingly quiet moments, LaCroix sat forward and with
his hardened glare spoke bitterly to his son.

"Our deal was that I would never hear from you again, or have you
forgotten?"

Trying to soften the mood, Roland hoped that his Father might listen to
reason.

"It has been almost eight hundred years, LaCroix"

Ignoring his son's attempt, his anger began to grow.

"I do not want you near Nicholas!  I am being more than generous by not
destroying you at this moment.  How dare you go and see Janette behind my
back?"

"Nothing escapes your knowledge, nothing is behind your back.  It was only
without your permission.  You do not own me LaCroix!"

"I more than own you!  I possess you... totally!  You do not exist without
my consent!"

Offended and infuriated, Roland stormed to his feet as he addressed his
Master.

"I see that nothing has changed!"

With a calm yet commanding voice, LaCroix spoke so as to intimidate his son.

"Sit down Roland!  We have more to discuss."

"You cannot stop me from meeting my brother!"

"If it were not for Janette waiting for you at the Raven, I would destroy
you right now for going back on our deal.  Now sit back down!"

Nervously, Roland re-found his position on Nick's black leather sofa while
his Father took a few minutes to study his son and the situation.

"I'm afraid Roland that you have put me in a very awkward position with my
children.  Janette now believes that I have deceived her about you, and you
even plan on fueling Nicholas's little obsession with your own
inadequacies."

"So you know why I have returned at this time."

"I remember your dealings with the Mayans, and now the faith healer.  You
could not resist could you?"

"Nichola might be able to help me."

"Nicholas is a fool!  You both are!  I will not tolerate this whim.  If you
persist, you will die here!  Something that I should have seen to a long
time ago!"

"Why do you fear my meeting of Nichola?  I thought you did not believe in a
cure."

"I fear nothing!  But you would be wise to fear me.  Have you learned
nothing since we parted ways?"

Feeling safer now, he spoke more confidently to his Father.

"As a matter of fact, I have learned quite a bit.  I've been to many places,
and learned a good deal about people.  I've learned that things are not
always as they seem, and you seem quite fearless.  But that's not true is
it?  You are afraid.  So afraid of losing another son that you feel
powerless."

"You are treading on very fine ice, Roland.  Your words are as foolish as
your actions.  Nicholas is not like you.  You deceive yourself if you
believe differently.  You were a mistake, he was not!"

A smile formed across Roland's lips as he tried to hide his pain of his
father's comment.

"Are you trying to hurt my feelings Father?  I was your first."

"Yes, you were my first attempt at a family.  Thankfully I improved with
practice."

"Word games.  Now I really should have known better than to tangle with the
Master."

Rising to his feet, LaCroix glared down at his son.

"I do not play games, Roland, and I do not make idle threats.  Leave
Nicholas out of this, and never let me see your face again."

"But I can't leave Nichola out of this, you should know that.  I will meet
with my brother.  In fact, I'm rather looking forward to seeing his reaction
when he finds out about me."

"You are playing way out of your league.  You may be old, but you are never
too old for me."

Standing up, he confronted the elder vampire.

"Are you feeling threatened?"

Moving to within inches of his son's face, LaCroix's voice dropped to a
harsh threatening whisper.

"If you harm Nicholas in any way, you will look back on the night I brought
you across as one of your more pleasant memories.  I *will* destroy you,
have no doubt!"

There was no time for Roland to respond, the only sound in the loft was that
of the displaced air as LaCroix departed through the skylight.  As his eyes
drifted away from the ceiling and back into the room, Roland took a long
deep breath and released it slowly.  An involuntary shudder swept across his
body as he realized that he had survived his worst nightmare.  He had
persevered through an ambush attack from LaCroix, and lived to talk about
it.  A self-confident smile lit up his face, and he could not help but feel
good about himself.  This occasion definitely called for a drink.  With a
quick assessment of his new surroundings, he headed for the kitchen.
Opening the refrigerator, he grinned at the selection of emerald bottles
that huddled together on the top shelf.  After turning a few and not finding
their labels, he pulled out the closest one and located a glass.  With the
glass full of red liquid, he moved back to stand beneath the skylight to
raise his glass towards the roof as if he were making a toast.

"This is for you old man.  To the day that we meet again.....in hell!"

Bending his elbow, he brought the glass to his mouth, and in one rapid
movement emptied it of its contents.  His eyes opened wide as he swallowed,
and his entire body quivered as he tried to spit out the rancid taste that
caused him to gag.

"Oh, Oh...this is terrible!  Oh Nichola, what did you do to deserve this
punishment?  Ohhhhh, I do not even think LaCroix would be so vindictive."

Going back to find the bottle, he cautiously sniffed at its contents.  His
features twisted to form a disgusted smile.

"Cow. I can't believe that anyone drinks this stuff.  Well brother, it looks
like this is going to be a lot easier than I thought."

After going to the sink to rinse the bad taste from his mouth, he moved back
to the leather sofa, found the remote, and turned on the television.

"I better get comfortable.  It looks like I missed you tonight Nichola, but
I will be here waiting for you when you arrive home in the morning."

After playing with the remote for a few minutes, he did a visual search for
the phone and found it on the table behind him.  With the phone in one hand,
he maneuvered his other hand deep into his pocket and pulled out a gold
colored book of matches.  As he waited for the operator to get on, he
examined the black bird that decorated the cover.  After a brief wait, the
operator got on, and he began to speak.

"Yes operator.  Would you find the number for a club called the Raven and
connect that call for me too please?"

Humming as he waited for his call to be answered, he played with the
matchbook.  A loud female voice finally ended the phone's ringing sound.  It
was obvious that he had the right place as he listened to the music blasting
in the background.  Speaking at the top of his lungs, he slowly enunciated
each word so that she would hear him through the clamor behind her.

"Would you please tell Janette that Roland wishes to speak with her?"

There was no verbal reply, there was only the sound of the receiver being
placed on the counter.  Following a few minutes of listening to the new age
music, Janette anxiously picked up the phone and wanted to know how his
meeting with LaCroix had gone.  Dismissing the entire encounter as
inconsequential, he instead made a point to request that she immediately
have some of that fine vintage of hers sent to the loft.  Although he joked
with her about having some "real food" at Nick's place, she knew that the
coming together of her Father and brother was not insignificant at all.  But
since he seemed alive and well, she told him that his order would arrive
shortly and dropped the subject.  As he hung up the telephone, he knew that
his casual tone had not fooled his sister, but she had accepted it.  And why
shouldn't she?  He had done well.  In fact, everything except for LaCroix's
unexpected visit seemed to be working out quite well.  In hindsight, he
realized that he should have anticipated LaCroix's social call more than he
had.  It would not happen again, not if he wished to remain alive.  Damn,
but LaCroix was good! Something that he had better never forget, or he would
rapidly run out of next times.

End Part 6

A guard had been stationed outside of Orah's hospital room, yet Nick felt
better being there.  The angel had not stirred in the past six hours, and he
could feel that the sun would be rising soon.  After pacing the room all
night, he was certain that he could have, without any trouble, found his way
around with his eyes closed.  Schanke had been by twice before he had told
him that he was wrapping things up to go home.  The first time he had been
by was to inform him that forensics had finished up at the scene, and the
second time was to tell him that Captain Cohen was out for their blood.
There was panic in his voice when he related her message of their badges not
being worth the metal they were stamped on if anything happened to this
woman while under their protection.  And she was correct to be upset with
them.  They had been there, yet they had nothing to go on.  From what
Schanke had told them, forensics had a nice set of tire track prints from
the snow, but almost half the cars in Toronto matched the description.
There were no footprints, which meant that the perpetrator waited in the
car, maybe for hours for the right time to strike.  The murderer had known
how Orah would leave.  Of course knowing that information did not take a
genius.  There were only two ways out of the building, and the presence of a
long black limousine parked by the back door was no different than posting a
sign stating "Here I am!"  Throwing a concerned glance at the sleeping
woman, he sighed.  Orah's whereabouts were certainly no secret, with every
newspaper and television station covering her arrival and performance times.
  Frustrated, he paced the room once more.  A man had been killed before his
eyes, and he had no information that would help them apprehend anyone.
Feeling powerless, he knew that there was nothing he could do now but
protect her and wait for this killer to strike again.  He would strike
again, and whether he liked it or not, Orah was the bait. Hopefully, they
would be able to anticipate the killer's next move before it would be too
late for her.  After a quick glance at his watch, he looked out the window
onto the lightening horizon.  The sky did look lighter in color, but then
the snow had made everything look brighter.  As he watched the subtle shades
of darkness gradually transforming themselves into dawn, the stillness from
within the room was shattered.  Gasping for air, Orah sat straight up in her
bed as Nick raced towards her.  Unsteadily, she tried to escape the bed, but
Nick prevented her from leaving the bed's safety.  As he held her back from
jumping down, she screamed out.

"SETH!  OH MY G-D, SETH IS DEAD!"

Having a difficult time holding her without hurting her, he was relieved to
see the guard from outside the door crash into the room followed by several
nurses and a doctor.  Her violent reaction had set off all of the monitoring
devices.  Looking into Nick's eyes, she screamed again at his touch, and he
pulled away to let the doctor near.  Two nurses on each side helped to hold
her and lay her back down as the doctor administered more of the sedation.
Trembling, she stared in wild eyed terror at Nick who had backed away to the
far end of the room.  As the nurses tried to wipe away the excess
perspiration from her forehead, she continued to scream and point towards
him.

"WHAT ARE YOU?  ARE YOU REAL?  ARE YOU A NIGHTMARE?"

Wishing he could disappear, Nick managed to back further against the wall.
Seeing the detective's reaction, the Doctor turned to him.

"Please, don't let her upset you.  It is all the medications that are in her
that are causing these delusions."

Feeling uneasy, he nodded that he had heard the Doctor.  But he knew that
she could see him for what he was.  There was no hiding from her, he was
transparent.  Through the heavy medication, she managed to sit up and push
the nurses to the side so she could see Nick clearly.  As the medical staff
moved to force her back down again, she reached out to the tense detective.

"You!  Tell me.  Is Seth dead?  I can feel a presence, but it is not of this
earth.  I know you will tell me the truth."

Moving slowly towards her, he took a few cautious steps and looked her in
the eyes.

"Seth Barrett, your body guard died at the scene.  I'm sorry."

Calming down, after his words, she studied him for a few seconds then softly
spoke to him.

"You tried to save us all...........thank you."

Allowing the nurses to help her, she relaxed into their arms and fell into a
drug induced sleep.  Gingerly pulling away from his patient, the doctor
stopped in front of Nick.

"She is going to sleep for most of the morning.  You will have to come by
later to talk with her."

As the doctor and the medical team left the room, Nick once more glanced out
the window.  He had to agree with the doctor, now was not the time to get
his answers.  The sun would rise soon.  Now was the time to go home and get
some sleep.  There was only twenty minutes of the night that remained.
Flying would get him home fastest.  Anyway, Schanke still had the Caddy with
him. After leaving instructions with the guard, he took the elevator down to
the Hospital's lobby and walked until he found the service exit.  Finding
himself in a small outdoor storage area, he looked around and was in the sky
before the door had time to close behind him.

******

The noise of the elevator grinding its way towards the loft, startled Roland
awake.  Immediately, his gaze took in his surroundings, as he tried to
refresh his memory as to where he was.  In an instant, he realized that he
must have fallen asleep while waiting for his brother's return.  It felt
strange to rise with so much of the daylight hours still ahead, but his body
quivered from the vibrations of one of his kind that was close in blood
approaching.  With no difficulty, he shut off any vibrations that would make
his presence known.  He knew that the termination of his link would make his
presence a complete surprise to his sibling.  In the centuries that he had
spent with LaCroix, he had learned many valuable lessons, but the ability to
block another of his own kind was particularly beneficial many times.  Even
one as close as Nichola would not know of his presence unless he willed it.
It was a talent that LaCroix had never taught his other children, and he was
certain that his Father damned the day that he had shared this with him.  In
all of his Master's zest for a son, he became careless and gave too much
away.  It was a mistake that he never again repeated.  A smile crossed his
dark rugged features, as he mulled over the idea of how close LaCroix had
come to allowing his first son to become almost as powerful as himself.
Yes, he would have to stay alive if for no other reason than to be a thorn
in his Father's side. Snapping his thoughts back to the present, he scolded
himself for letting his mind wander so.  There were more pressing issues to
attend to, and he could not allow himself to indulge in frivolous daydreams.
  This was going to be quite a shock for Nichola, too bad Janette could not
be here to soften the blow.  There was talk that she could handle her
brother in any situation, but then she could handle most men.  When they had
been together, he had wondered if she had ever needed to use her hypnotic
skills to bring her male victims into her snare of death.  Most likely she
had only to glance at them, and they willingly surrendered all of their life
blood.  Unfortunately, she was not around now to buffer this situation, and
it was about to erupt.

Standing up from the sofa, he took a few steps and positioned himself in
front of the fireplace.  Remaining with one arm leaning against the wooden
mantle, he took in a short breath knowing that this would be his brother's
first vision of him.  The door slid noisily open, and the two brother's
instantly made direct eye contact.  While Roland broadly grinned, Nick's
police instincts kicked in and as naturally as mortals breathe, he whipped
out his gun.  With a steady outstretched arm, he aimed it at the unexpected
intruder. Rolling his eyes, Roland shook his head and sighed.

"Is this any way to greet your relatives Nichola?"

Scrutinizing the strangers every movement, Nick slowly moved towards him.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!"

The words caused Roland to smile again.  This mortal game of cops and
robbers was sort of fun.

"This is quite unnecessary, Nichola.  I really am related to you."

"I do not know who you are.  I have no relatives.  Now turn around and face
the wall!"

Moving close to his brother, he twisted him around and began to search him
for weapons.  With his face now pressed against the mantle, Roland was
beginning to lose interest in continuing this amusement.  Uncomfortable with
the treatment, he tried to speak with his mouth squeezed against the wood.

"I know what the problem is."  With a quick conscious effort, he allowed the
vibrations of the vampire to resurface.  Trying to see Nick's reaction out
of the side of his eye, he addressed him again.  "How's that?  Now do you
believe me?"

Stumbling backwards from the rush of the sensation, Nicholas began to step
back and let his vampire nature take over.  With glowing eyes and protruding
fangs, his words became mixed with growls.

"If you came for trouble, you will not be disappointed!  I have no desire
for your kind here."

Turning to face his brother, Roland looked stunned.

"My kind?  Why aren't we the same kind?  You are a vampire Nichola are you
not, or am I mistaken?"

"I am different than the others.  I have denounced the evil.  Isn't that why
you have come?"

"Oh, now you believe me to be one of those nasty little enforcers.  I think
I should feel offended."

"Then what do you want?"

"You reacted too quickly, Nichola.  I cannot tell you how disappointed I am
in how lacking LaCroix's education of my siblings has been.  Try again to
feel the vibration."

"Siblings?  Are you one of LaCroix's creations?"

End Part 7

"Oh, I guess I let that information slip, and I so wanted to see if you
could feel our bond."  Watching his brother with his gun still tensely
pointed at him, he motioned towards the sofa.  "Do you think that we could
sit down and talk or do you feel more secure holding that gun on me?"

Relaxing his arm, Nick slid the gun back into its holder under his jacket.
Glancing skeptically at Roland, he pushed the vampire down, and took a long
hard look at the uninvited person before him.  After allowing a moment to
pass, Roland moved to sit down then gestured for Nick to join him.

"I'm afraid that I have you at a disadvantage brother.  I know much about
you, but you did not even know I existed until moments ago.  If you do not
believe that I am who I say I am, then why don't you give our sister Janette
a call down there at the Raven?"

"You know Janette?"

"Yes, I know Janette.  In fact, I *knew* Janette almost two hundred years
before you joined our family."

Stepping closer, Nick still stared at him.

"I know of LaCroix's children.  Why is it that I never knew of you?"

"It is as they say, a long story.  Please, sit down, you are making me
nervous by standing there."  Thoughtfully, Nick rubbed his chin as he took
the remaining steps to the sofa, but he did not sit down.  Roland smiled up
at him.

"Still do not trust me brother?  Well I guess that is to be expected.  Let
me introduce myself.  I am called Roland, and I was brought across by
LaCroix in 846.  In my short mortal life, I was a warrior and a nobleman.
My only love died a natural mortal death with no memory of my existence.
Since then, I have been many things and have covered the Earth several
times.  My first almost four hundred years as a vampire were spent with my
Father.  Later we were joined by the beautiful and enchanting Janette.  You,
my dear brother, became a family member after I moved on."

Listening in amazement at this vampire's open and honest summary of his
life, Nick finally sat down as he tried to make sense of all the
developments that were now in his life.  He watched as his brother reached
over to the bottle that stood on the table and poured himself a drink.
Feeling his brother's eyes, Roland held up the full glass towards Nick.

"You don't mind if I drink do you?  I had Janette send over something a
little more robust than what I found in your refrigerator.  You don't really
drink that stuff do you?"

"It's cow's blood."

"Tastes like poison.  I'm afraid I would rather starve to death then drink
that.  But I am just dying to know why you have it stored away in there.
Please tell me that you don't drink it."

"You would not understand."

"Oh my, you do drink it.  You don't like it do you?  You're not one of them
are you?"

"A carouche?  No, I have my own reasons."

"Thank goodness!  I'm not sure how I could handle having a family member who
was.........well you know."

Starting to feel impatient about why this vampire who claimed to be his
brother was sitting comfortably drinking human blood in his living room,
Nick decided that he had better things to do then to listen to his
ramblings.  It was interesting to meet the family member, but it was getting
late.  The sun was out, and he was tired.  Trying to be polite, he smiled
patronizingly at Roland.

"Roland, is it?  This little family reunion has been interesting, but I have
to work tonight and I need my sleep."

"Yes, your work.  You're a detective now.  What was it before that?  A
teacher.  Or was that an archeologist?  You have been quite diverse over the
last hundred years.  It has been difficult keeping up."

"You have been keeping tabs on me for that long, but only now you decide to
reveal yourself?"

"Longer actually, and not just you, LaCroix and Janette as well.  And then
there has been my work to take care of as well."

"And what work is that?"

"So many positions I have held over the centuries, but in every case I never
strayed too far from any Country's leader.  I have always been the closest
confidant in every political government that has risen or fallen since
.....well since you came across.  I have always been the closest to the
king, monarch, president, prime minister, or whatever title they choose to
refer to themselves."

"You work as a mortal, why?"

"Because I enjoy it.  Why do you?"

"I need to try and give back to humanity all that I have taken, and it also
reminds me of my lost mortality that I wish to reclaim."

"Ha!  I'm surprised that you are still alive.  Ha, Ha!  How is it that
LaCroix has not done away with you?  I'm sorry that I find this so amusing.
I really shouldn't be laughing.  I already knew of this quest of yours.
It's just that the thought of LaCroix with two sons that desire the same
thing.....  It must be killing him.  I'm surprised that he hasn't
spontaneously combusted just out of the frustration.  This is great!  This
is too rich!"

"Two sons?  You have this desire as well?"

"For more years than you have been alive.  Well not alive, dead.  No, not
that either.  You know, been a vampire."

"LaCroix sent you here didn't he?  You can just go back and tell him that it
didn't work.  Whatever it is that you were to tell me, I have no interest."

"You want me to go to LaCroix?  Do you think I have a death wish?  Why do
you think I have been away so long?  Anyway, LaCroix was already here
earlier, and he would like nothing more than if the two of us would never
have met.  I'm afraid that Daddy dearest thinks that I may be a bad
influence on my baby brother.  I am here under threats of death by him."

"Why should I believe you?"

Throwing his head back against the sofa, he stared at the ceiling and
sighed. "Ask yourself why you never knew of me.  Why in your almost eight
hundred years has there been no mention of me?  Why has my name not been on
my Father's lips?  And why has he erased all memory of me?"

As Roland sat back up to receive his brother's responses to his questions,
he went to pour another glass of blood.  After thinking for a few moments,
Nick looked over to his brother.

"Even if what you say is true, it still does not explain why you are here
now?"

"I see your point.  Would you believe that I'm here out of brotherly love?
No huh?  It was worth a shot."  Nick watched as his brother stood up then
crossed the room.  He stared at him as he showed tremendous interest in his
artifact collection, picking up several of the priceless pieces.  Finally
after replacing all but one piece, he looked over to Nick.

"You know you have some very valuable pieces here.  Who would have known
that all those ordinary everyday things that I used would have such value
one day? I never bothered to save anything, too much of a burden.  Anyway, I
always liked starting new each time I moved on."

Now feeling extremely uncomfortable, Nick glared at Roland as he again began
to pick up each of the ancient artifacts that he had painstakingly gathered
throughout time.  With his uneasiness increasing by the second, he stiffened
as Roland scrutinized each item.  It felt like he was being searched, he
felt like his privacy was being violated, until the last of his handling of
the objects was done and Roland walked towards him.

"No Nichola, unlike you I really never was much of a collector, but I did
keep a few things along the way.  And you know, I thought that you had
something very similar to what I saved, but I don't see it."  Reaching into
a side pocket, Roland produced a jade cup that Nick easily recognized.
Rising angrily to his feet, he approached his brother with fire in his eyes.

"You stole the jade cup!"

Thinking briefly about his brother's words, he nodded.

"Yes. I guess you can say that.  But I do believe that the statute of
limitations has run out.  In any event, there are not any more Mayans to
press charges."

"It was at the Royal Museum."

"Really?  Well I seriously doubt that.  I have had this cup close to me
since the 900's.  So they have one too?  I wonder how many of these cups are
floating around.  All these copies are bound to bring down its value.  So
Nichola, where is yours?"

"I do not have it.  I donated mine to the Museum after their cup was
destroyed by LaCroix"

"LaCroix destroyed the Museum's Mayan cup?  Now that is fascinating.  I
guess he didn't know that I know the whereabouts of several others.  So, it
looks like he believes that there may be something to this cure after all."

"You know about the cure?"

"Know about it?  Know about the cure?  Please Nichola, I was there and
witnessed it work."

"It worked?  The cure?  You saw it work?  You saw a vampire become mortal
again?"

"Yes, it was done often then, but it required a special ceremony."

"You saw one of us become mortal?  Are you certain?"

"I saw it on several occasions, with my own eyes.  LaCroix saw it too, even
though he dismissed it as a fraud."

"So you are here to get the cup that I gave to the Museum, and with our two
cups we can be mortal."

Turning away from Nick, he took a few steps then turned back to look at him.

"Did I mention the ceremony?  There was this part about the drinking of the
sacrificed person's blood.  You are aware of that part too, right?"

"Yes, I learned a great deal as an archeologist on the Mayan dig.  I'll get
the cup back and we will use the two cups."

Getting excited as well, Roland began to plan out loud.

"We will have to perform the ceremony.  I can do that.  I remember exactly
what they did."

Moving up to Roland, Nicholas took the jade cup from his hands and began to
run his fingers over its cold stone surface.  Looking up at his brother, he
smiled.

"Roland, I am sorry that I was so uncomfortable about you being here.  I
just cannot believe that after all this time that you can just walk in here
with the cure.  It is that simple!"

"Simple?  No, not simple.  It took all this time to recreate all the proper
ingredients."

"What do you mean?  We have both cups now, so just say whatever their magic
words were and we will drink from the cups."

Roland gently tugged the cup from Nick's grasp, and placed it back in his
pocket as he crossed the room.  Confused, Nick's eyes followed him.  Then
suddenly Roland spun to face him.

"Yes, we have the cups, but I have always known where I can find more cups.
Think Nichola, if I had known that you had a cup then why did I not come
sooner?"

"It was out of fear for LaCroix."

"No, the time was not right, until now.  If we work together, we will be
mortal again."

"I do not understand."

"How much do you know about this cure?  Only bits and pieces of what you
found that lay buried in the ground for centuries?  There was more than
merely drinking from the cups, there was so much more!  Are you certain that
you are ready for this cure?"

End Part 8

"I have not been more certain of anything.  What else is involved in this
cure?"

"As you are most likely already aware, the Mayans were quite a paganistic
group.  They had sacrifices and blood rituals for everything.  They knew of
our existence, in fact many of them were like us.  It was not uncommon for
family members to switch from mortal to vampire then back again, regularly,
depending on their needs.  When they needed to be immortal, such as during
battle, they became the vampire.  When they needed to be in the light or to
reproduce, they became mortal.  The system worked very well for a long
time."

"It was common practice for them to switch from mortality to immortality?"

"Depending on their needs.  The practice fell out of favor when the ratio of
vampire to mortal became too high, and they practically destroyed themselves
with the bloodlust.  Too many vampires, not enough blood."

"But you know how to use the cure.  Why didn't you use it?  Why didn't you
come sooner?"

"It was not time, and you were not ready."

"Ready?  I am more than ready."

"That remains to be seen."

"I told you that I will retrieve the cup.  What more is there to this cure?"

Slowly, Roland headed for Nick and placed his hand on his shoulder as his
eyes searched deeply into his brother's soul.

"You and I Nichola, must be joined in this venture.  In order for this to
work, there must be two who are brothers of the same blood.  We are both of
LaCroix's blood.  We will have to drink alternately from the jade cups."

"I did not know that it would take another to erase this curse."

"Yes, it is only done in pairs of men.  There was a different practice for
the women, but women were rarely chosen to become immortal then."

"Why did you not come to me sooner?"

"Be patient brother, there is still more.  The reason for the wait has to do
with the sacrificed victim's blood.  The victim must die in the way
prescribed by the elders.  They must die from a single silver dagger to the
heart.  It is the blood from the heart wound that is used, and most
importantly this blood must be from one of special holiness.  The blood must
be that of a healer, a true healer.  In those days there were many, but
since then there has only been one.  And this is why I come to you now."

Turning away, Nick moved back to the sofa feeling drained of all hope.
Looking up at his brother, he spoke in disbelief.

"The blood of a healer, a faith healer.  You want to kill Orah so that we
may be mortal."

Moving to sit across from him, he tried to convince him of his sincerity.

"I'm afraid it is the only way brother.  You do understand, don't you?  I
could not return to my mortality then because I did not have a brother of
similar blood, and I had to wait until now for one of such faith to arrive."

"You must be wrong.  I cannot gain my mortality by taking another mortal
life."

"Then you and I cannot ever regain what we once cherished."

Looking down at the floor, he shook his head and tried to clear his mind
then looked up and stared at his new-found brother.  There were no words
right at this minute, only a blizzard of thoughts and images that made no
sense.  This was too painful to be true.  How could the only chance to be
mortal again come with such human cost?  This had to be one of LaCroix's
cruel lessons to him. Abruptly, Roland broke into his thoughts.

"I see Nichola that you are having trouble with this cure.  I have spent
many centuries waiting for this one of faith to walk the Earth.  You have
only had a short time to assimilate all of this.  A new brother and a cure
all at once. I know that you are reasonable, and that you will come to the
same conclusion that I have.  Orah is our only way out of this existence.
She was born to help, and this is how she will help us."

"I still do not know that LaCroix is behind this.  He has had me kill
innocents before."

"I don't know how to convince you.  I can only imagine how difficult your
life has been with LaCroix.  Your experiences with him in the past are even
now creating obstacles to our freedom."

"How could I take another life?  How could I live with myself?"

"Think about it.  We are talking about one life.  This life will return us
to a life we should never had been taken from.  This one sacrificed life
will end any chance of future vampire killings.  To exchange one life for
thousands of potential victims.  How many less victims would there have been
had we been able to do this sooner?  How can you turn away?"

Rubbing his eyes and his head, he looked to the other side of the room and
stared into space.

"I'm not.  I have to get some rest.  I have to think."

"Don't take too long.  LaCroix is already making plans for my funeral.  I'll
be at the Raven if you need to talk."

Standing up, he moved towards the door, but Nick moved to stop him.

"You cannot leave now, it is daylight."

"I'll be fine, Nichola.  I just will never get over how much LaCroix left
out in his teaching of you.  I'll be at the Raven."  As he got to the opened
elevator, he turned back to Nick.

"Oh, don't worry about the other jade cup.  It is as good as in our hands
already."

The door crashed closed blocking Roland from his sight, and he moved back to
the sofa.  After eight hundred years, he had thought that nothing could stun
him like this.  That Roland was his brother, that was a shock, but it was
believable.  LaCroix would go through bouts in which he would add another to
the family.  Roland had said that he had been LaCroix's son nearly four
hundred years before him.  That meant that even Janette had known him for
two hundred years.  Why had his brother been kept a secret from him?  How
did he get away from LaCroix?  They would need to speak again, and if Roland
was telling the truth he would be in tremendous danger from their Master.
He could not stop the thought of a cure from pushing back into his thoughts,
even now as he tried to not think about it.  But the doubt kept nagging at
him. What if all that Roland said was true?  What if they must kill to
regain their mortality?  NO!  It cannot be this way.  It did not make sense,
but then what of the Mayan culture made sense?  If Roland had actually been
there and had witnessed this ritual, then there may be truth to what he
said.  The excitement of being so close to a cure began to build inside of
him.  But then just as abruptly, he pushed those thoughts away.  How could
he ever consider performing such a ritual?  He had to forget this.  How
could he be responsible for protecting the only person he needed to kill?
He would have to talk to Captain Cohen about putting someone else on this
case.  Sunset would be at 5:50 PM tonight, if he could get some sleep now,
he would have time before work to talk to Natalie about this cure and to
Captain Cohen about reassignment.  Getting up, he rubbed at his eyes and
began to climb the stairs to his bedroom.  Why must everything be so
complicated?  As far into the future as he could see, there was no peace for
him.  Mechanically, he changed into his black pajamas, and fell exhausted
into bed.  As he lay still in the darkened room, he stared up at the
ceiling.  He tried to block out the pain of yet another obstacle to
achieving his goal, but all he could feel was a deep sense of loss.  Just
another chapter of emptiness to add to his long and lonely life's story.
All his desire to be mortal again would be in vain, for such an attempt
could never be.  Allowing the agony of this dilemma to fade, he tried to
relax and listen to the silence that occupied his empty loft. Then closing
his eyes, all sounds gradually disappeared as he drifted into the voiceless
murmur of the sleep of the undead.  The only place where he could sometimes
escape from such heart wrenching decisions.

******

The ringing of the alarm clock startled him awake, and he sluggishly crawled
out of bed.  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, it was obvious that the seven
short hours of sleep had not been nearly enough with all that had been going
on in his life.  Finding his clothes to dress, a sudden familiar wave of
vibrations penetrated his body, and he knew that he was not alone.  An
unexplainable strange feeling of impending doom rushed his sensations, and
he used all his powers to tear towards the bedroom's closed door.  In his
haste to plunge forward, the door was almost pulled from its hinges as it
wildly swung open and hit the wall.  In time only used to measure the speed
of sound, he found himself at the rail overlooking the downstairs living
quarters.  The view of what lay beneath him, paralyzed him with horror.  Not
even a breath was taken as he overlooked his brother Roland standing over
Orah who was securely tied to his kitchen table.  He watched as Roland
raised a shimmering silver dagger high above his head then look up towards
him with eyes that flickered with red sparks.  Then opening his mouth wide
to reveal a fierce fanged smile, Roland swayed and chanted in a language
that was foreign from all of his eight hundred years.  A soft moan from the
captive faith healer, and his eyes swiftly shifted from his brother to
Orah's face.  Looking at her, he could see that there was no fear in her
eyes.  Listening to the only mortal heartbeat in the room, he knew that she
was at peace with her fate.  The chanting took on a high pitch tone, and
Roland slipped two jade cups onto the table close to Orah's head.
Desperately, he tried to stop the barbaric ritual by calling out, but his
voice and his movements were equally immobile. Fighting the overwhelming
loss of control, he felt as if all of time swirled around him.  Had he been
drugged so as not to interfere?  Trying to steady himself, he focused on
Roland and Orah beneath him.  Their images separated and became two before
his eyes.  As he tried to blink away the doubled image, they divided again
and became four.  With each blink, they reproduced themselves until dozens
of copies of the two all turned before him as if they were held captive
inside a kaleidoscope.  With all the strength he could gather, he closed his
eyes and thrust himself towards the stairs.  Successful in reaching his
destination, he felt himself begin to tumble down in slow motion as only the
floor below stopped the force of the fall.  The downward spill broke the
spell that had him incapable of movement, and he weakly stood up and
re-opened his eyes.  Trying to focus, his eyes began to cloud over as his
gaze once again located the spot of the ancient ritual.  He was too late.
Roland had already plunged the dagger into the middle of her heart, and was
collecting blood from the oozing wound.  Hesitatingly, his eyes moved up the
beauty's body and rested on her face.  Her death stare had frozen wide open
reflecting the shock of the knife that had pierced her heart.  In an
instant, his brother began to walk towards him with two full cups of the
healer's blood.  As he cautiously glided towards Nicholas, he carefully
tried to not spill the magical liquid.  Smiling confidently, Roland stood
before his brother and with a satisfied smile, he raised the first of the
cups to his lips.  Drinking until the cup was half emptied, he handed the
remainder to Nick.

"Drink, it's all you have to do.  Drink, and you shall finally be free!"

Pushing the cup away, he looked away in disgust.

"I can't!  Not this way!"

Lifting off the ground, he rapidly landed and confronted Nick with his voice
filled with bitterness.

"Then she dies without reason.  Is that what you want?  Is that what she
would have wanted?"

Cringing from the scent of her blood so tantalizingly nearby, he again
declined the offer.

"I can't be a part of this."

"It's too late for that Nichola.  You are already a part of this.  Now drink
this and then we will be what nature had intended us to be."

As Roland extending the hand that held the jade cup, Nick could easily smell
the scent of Orah's blood and it ensnared him.  Feeling compelled, Nick
reached for the half full cup.  The liquid sloshed in the cup as he brought
the still warm fluid to his lips and swallowed.  A rush of goodness and all
that is holy flooded his body.  This was the answer.  This was the cure.
Roland had been correct, and it was so easy.  Greedily, he finished the
first cup and reached for the second.  This would be the cup that would seal
his mortality.  Excitedly Roland relinquished the second cup and watched his
brother move to consume the first half and then pass it back to him.  As he
waited for his turn to drink, both of the vampire siblings were interrupted
by the sound of breaking glass as their Master tore through a closed window.
With his jaw clenched and his eyes glowing, LaCroix angrily demanded the cup
that his son Nicholas held.  He moved towards both of them but spoke only to
Nicholas.

"Nicholas, give me the cup!"

"Why LaCroix?  Are you afraid it may work?  Are you fearful that there may
be something more powerful than yourself?"

"I will not ask again, Nicholas!"

Raising the cup in a gesture to drink, he ignored his Father's demands.

"No!  Not this time LaCroix!  This time you will not win!"

"You are so mistaken Nicholas!  You will pay dearly for this act of
defiance. I will deal with you after I take care of some old business."

Faster than Nicholas thought possible, LaCroix produced a wooden stake and
threw it hard at Roland.  The wooden weapon struck the vampire with
tremendous force through the heart and pinned him to the wall several feet
away.  The horrible screams of Roland's death cries filled the loft, and
Nick looked down onto the full cup of Orah's blood that he still held.  It
was useless without his brother, and LaCroix knew that.  The brother that he
had barely known then vanished before his eyes, taking with him all hopes
for a cure.  Before he could look up again, LaCroix turned his attention to
him and was upon him. With unnatural strength, his Father pinned him to the
wall that his brother had just died against.  He offered no resistance,
knowing that within moments that he would most likely die from the same
wooden stake that had destroyed Roland.  Feeling as if every bone had been
shattered from the force in which LaCroix had thrown him against the
plaster, his Master held him up securely keeping him from sliding down the
wall.  Gasping for air, he only silently prayed that the death blow would
come quickly and end his suffering.  But the stake was not what was produced
by LaCroix.  Instead his Father's other hand held up the blood filled jade
cup.  The same jade cup that but a moment ago had held his chance for a new
life was now in LaCroix's hand.  The elder vampire pushed the jade cup hard
into his son's mouth, then picked its bottom end up and poured the now cold
blood down his throat.  Glaring at his son, he poured fast so as to choke
him.

"DRINK!  This is what you wanted!  DRINK IT THEN!"

As Nicholas gurgled and gagged on the blood, his Father held it tightly
against his face and made sure that every drop was finished.  Seeing that
the cup was empty, he threw it powerfully across the room.  Then turning
back to his son, he firmly grabbed him and threw him against the same wall
as the now shattered cup.  With little strength, Nicholas looked up from the
bottom of the wall where he had managed to sit himself up, and saw his
master approaching again.

"Kill me already LaCroix!  Just be done with it."

"No Nicholas.  You are not getting away that easily.  You are mine, and you
shall always be mine."

Lifting his son from the ground with one hand, he threw him against the wall
and held him up by his neck.  Blood poured profusely from Nick's face as
LaCroix's flaming red eyes glared at him.

"You think that you are suffering now Nicholas?  This is only the
beginning!"

With a start, Nick sat straight up in bed, and reached up to touch the beads
of bloodsweat that had accumulated on his forehead during his nightmare.
Catching his breath, he reached over to pick up the clock.  It was only 4:30
PM, but he was not taking any chances by going back to sleep.  It was time
to get up and work this all out before things got out of hand.  Maybe
Natalie would be able to offer an objective perspective on this possible
cure.

End Part 9

After several attempts to catch Natalie at home, Nick had finally been able
to track her down at the Morgue.  She had explained to him that it had been
one of those days when she couldn't sleep while thinking about all the work
she wanted to complete.  So after tossing and turning, she had given up on
sleep and had come in early.  By the time he had arrived at the lab, she had
already changed into scrubs and was well into the autopsy procedure.
Standing in the opened doorway, he watched her work.  It still amazed him
how she was able to be so distant from her work.  Rarely did she let her
emotions get in the way, even though she knew that each person that went
through her Morgue had until recently been an active alive individual.  She
was able to distance herself, and always complete her work professionally.
Leaning against the doorpost, he only saw her and none of the gruesome
detailed work that she performed. Smiling, he watched as her soft brown
curls tried to escape from under the surgical cap that she wore.  He loved
listening to the sound of her voice as she recorded details of the autopsy
into a tape recorder.  Her voice soothed and relaxed him as he waited for
her to notice him.

Without missing a beat, she turned suddenly and acknowledged him with a nod.
It was obvious that she had been aware of his presence for some time, and he
again smiled at her subtle attempt at teasing.

"How long did you know I was here?"

"Not too long.  I didn't want to disturb you.  You seemed lost in thought."

Stepping into the room, he began to move close to her.

"No I was only admiring the view."

Smiling, she graciously accepted his compliment, as she pulled off her cap
and gloves.  As he stepped close, she pulled back the sheet to reveal the
body on the table.

"Is this the victim from the hit and run last night?"

Taking on a professional tone Natalie answered.

"Yes. Mr. Seth Barrett.  Personal body guard to Orah.  C.O.D. was from
massive hemorrhages as a result of being hit by a large blunt instrument.
In other words, he was killed when the car struck him."

"I guess there is nothing else?"

"Well, not from me. but I heard from forensics.  The car that hit him was
found abandoned.  They were able to find pieces of skin, hair, and blood
from the victim under the front tire.  It's definitely a match."

"Did they say who the car was licensed to?  Or was it stolen?"

"The only thing that I heard was that it was a rental car, but I know that
Schanke was going to look into it.  You really didn't see anything Nick?"

"No."

"Too bad.  There is not much else to go on and that killer is still out
there and probably not too happy that he killed the wrong person."

"I know."

Seeing how depressed he looked about the poor prospects of a swift
apprehension of this suspect, she changed the subject.

"So, how is Orah doing?  I heard you stayed at the hospital all night."

"She slept most of the time, but she did wake up once.  Nat, she knows about
me."

"How could she?"

"I don't know, but she was hysterical when she looked at me.  She could see
right through me.  She could see the evil."

"Nick, that's not possible.  You only believe that because you want to
believe in her powers.  But people do not have powers like that.  She only
acted hysterically because of everything she had just been through."

"You were not there.  You did not see how she reacted."

"Nick, she is only a person, just like the rest of us.  She cannot make the
crippled walk, the blind see, and she cannot see the vampire."

"You are wrong Nat. I saw her do all those things."

"It was an act Nick!  That is her job.  To make you and everyone else
believe in her."

"I saw her put her hands on a boy's legs and then he walked to her.  It was
no trick."

"Really, and how do you know that?  Of course it was a trick.  One of the
oldest tricks in the book, but shouldn't you be the one telling me this?
Nick, you have been around for quite some time.  Don't you recognize a scam
when you see it?"

"She is the real thing.  I know it, and she could be the key to my quest for
mortality."

"What?  Do you think that she can place her hands on you and make you
mortal? If you believe that, then why have I been spending years searching
for a real cure?  I should just go to the local magic shop and purchase a
black hat to pull a cure out of."

"She can cure me, but not by the placing of hands.  I need her blood.  I
need her to die."

Feeling all her emotions begin to drain from the astonishment of his words,
she shook her head.  The thought that he would even play with such an idea
made her sick.

"So what are you going to do?  You are supposed to be protecting her, but
instead you are going to take her blood and kill her.  Why didn't I
understand this before?  The way to your humanity is to kill!  You know
Nick, I have really been on the wrong track.  I'm sorry that I wasted all
your time."

Watching her turn away, he realized how hurt she was.  Circling her waist
with his arm, he turned her towards him and drew her near.  Softly, he
whispered to her.

"I'm not going to kill her Nat. I cannot.  But I do believe her blood can
cure me.  Nat, could what her blood contains be a cure for vampirism?  Do
not just answer no, think about it.  Is there anything that could alter this
condition that might be found in her blood?"

Pulling slightly away, she looked up at him.

"Oh Nick, you are grasping at straws.  Why do you believe this?"

"Remember the jade cup from the Museum?  It is her blood that must go
inside."

"That's right.  You really do believe in that ancient cure.  But you only
had one cup, I thought you needed two."

"I know where there exists another cup, but they must contain the blood of a
special holy person and Orah is that person.  Could this be a real cure?"

"No Nick.  You are trying to make something where there is nothing.  There
is no magic in mixing jade and blood, and I doubt that there is anything
different in her blood's chemical composition.  I'm sorry Nick.  I can't
tell you what you want to hear.  You are chasing rainbows."

Pulling away from her, he briefly closed his eyes and felt what little he
imagined was left of his soul tear apart.

"Forever chasing rainbows, maybe that is part of this curse too."

Sadly looking down at the floor, he turned and headed for the door.  He
heard her voice trying to call him, but he did not have the desire to look
back. Maybe there was no cure, no answers.  Maybe coming to terms with the
fact that there was no way out was the answer.  Why must there exist a
solution to every problem?  After all this time searching, maybe the answer
simply was that there is no answer.  No, he couldn't believe that, at least
not yet.  Giving up hope would be what LaCroix would want.  He could not be
like his Father, existing without hope and faith.  Giving up would never
lead to a cure.  And one day, if the heavens would will it, there would be
an answer.  But this answer would not come about by sacrificing another's
life.  There would have to be another way, but for now something would have
to be done about this cure and his brother.  Even if it meant following
another unsuccessful path, even if it meant chasing another rainbow.  There
had to be a way to work this out, but working on Orah's case was not a good
idea for him.  Now he should be further from her, not watching her every
move.  He was too close to her to think, and he had better step away before
she needed protection from him.  If he hurried, he could catch Captain Cohen
before she went on duty.  A cold breeze filled with snow flurries, blew into
the Coroner's building as the door swung closed behind him.

******

The atmosphere of the day shift made the precinct seem like a different
place than what he was used to.  At night everything and everyone felt more
ominous. Maybe the job just took on more of a grim tone when darkness fell.
Or perhaps it was only the natural way of things to be more wary of what
evil might lurk in the darker hours.  It was wise to beware the of shadows
of the night, and who would know better than himself.  Yes, he had for
centuries been the hunter, and his only prey were the foolish who braved the
night.  Desperately, he stopped the progression of his thoughts.  It was too
dangerous to relive the memories of the stalker that marked time inside of
him, and waited for the opportunity to ravage life.  Straining to regain
control, he managed to push back the beast who even now scanned the precinct
with hungry eyes.  Recovering control of his human side, he looked around
the room.  Hardly anyone looked up as he passed, all were busy contending
with the last of their paperwork so that they could return to their homes
and families.  As he made his way to his desk, he toyed with the thought of
how it would feel to possess that eagerness to go home after work and to be
a part of a family.  For the briefest of moments, he fantasized how full
life would be with a wife and children who loved him and who he could love
too.  But this was all a dream, that could never be realized.  Because he
had only selfishly taken for centuries, his punishment for all his excess
would be eternal exclusion from all that was human.  Ostracized forever for
following a decision he had made a long time ago.  Having the chance to
observe these few moments, of those who led a normal life, made the yearning
to be mortal feel so much stronger.  It was only during these Winter hours
that catching glimpses of the mortal world could occur.  Although these
fleeting Winter days gave him abundant freedom from the light, they also
permitted him to observe and long for a life that existed only in his
imagination.  Crossing the room, he took note of every face.  Some seemed
familiar, but most did not.  However, that did not matter, he had not come
in early to socialize, he was hoping to catch Captain Cohen.  Approaching
the Captain's office, he gave the slightly ajar door a light push and peeked
inside.  The office was unoccupied, and he rapidly reached for the doorknob
to pull the door closed.  A passing thought told him to go in and wait, but
the idea was too uncomfortable.  If he had wanted to speak with his prior
boss, Captain Stonetree, he would have had no uneasiness about being alone
until he arrived, but Captain Cohen was a different story.  Going in without
her consent felt like a desecration of something sacred.  With the easy
going Stonetree, he had felt that there was always an open door policy in a
relaxed atmosphere.  The impression he received from Cohen however, made him
feel that her office was off limits, and if he hung around, he would believe
himself to be trespassing.  So he turned around, and headed for his desk.
It was too early to have expected her to be in, it was a good time to catch
up on some of the work he had missed while guarding Orah.

Dropping his leather jacket over the back of his chair, he sat down and
began to plow through the stacks of files that had accumulated while he was
gone. While only half-way through the first file, he startled as a heavy
hand plopped down on his shoulder causing him to whirl around.  His partner
had managed to sneak up on him again when he was engrossed in thought, and
with a satisfied laugh at Nick's reaction he moved to sit at his own desk
which was across from him.

"I had a feeling that you would be in early tonight.  That Orah is a
beauty."

"Schanke, is there anything more on the car that almost killed her?"

"It's being checked for prints, but it doesn't look like we are going to get
anything.  Whoever did this wore gloves, which makes sense, you would have
to be crazy not to wear gloves in this weather.  I'm waiting for a call now
from the rental agency."

Reaching back for his jacket, Nick began feeling around in his pocket for
his car keys.

"I'm going to go to the car rental agency now, and check it out in person."

"No, no, no, my ambitious partner.  You have the very enviable task of
picking up our surveillance job from the hospital.  You know, I think that
Orah, the sorcerer, likes you."

"She's a faith healer Schank, but anyway I cannot pick her up.  That is why
I am in early.  I wanted to talk to Captain Cohen about re-assigning me."

"You what!?  Why would you do that?  The Captain will never go for it
anyway. I heard that she spent half the day that she devotes to her beauty
sleep, keeping Orah in the hospital until you would be able to get to her."

"Trust me Schank, I am not the one for this job."

"Are you kidding?  You're perfect.  Think about it, a beautiful young woman
relying on a big strong *single* police detective to protect her.  You
couldn't be more perfect for this job Knight."

"I'm not interested."

"Yeah, sure."

"I have an idea, why don't *you* pick her up?  You are in on this protective
custody case too."

"You must think that I don't want my head connected to my body.  If the
Captain would not kill me, Myra would.  Orah is all yours.  What's your
problem anyway?"

"I do not think that I can adequately protect her."

"What's the matter Knight, losing your confidence?  Try not to even think of
her as this magnificent creature who will spend the long lonely dark night
with you.  Don't even give a thought to her wanting to place her hands on
you so that she can heal you of....of....who cares?  Is it getting warm in
here?"

Leaning back in his chair, Nick smiled and shook his head at his partner's
description of the faith healer.

"I'll speak to the Captain when she comes in.  And try to settle down
Schanke, you wouldn't want Myra seeing you like this."

A look of panic tore through Schanke's eyes as he wildly swung around to
look behind him before turning back to his partner.

"Don't ever do that again Nick.  I almost sprained my neck just now."

"Then I would suggest concentrating more on your work and less on your
fantasies of Orah if you want to keep that neck."

With an annoyed glance, Schanke leaned over his desk and looked directly
into his partner's eyes.

"I can tell you right now Knight, the Captain is not going to let you out of
this."

Suddenly, Nick broke away from Schanke's glare and looked up to see Captain
Cohen standing directly behind his partner, but it was too late to warn him.

"What am I not going to do, Schanke?"

Grabbing his chest where his heart beat fiercely, Schanke twisted around and
looked up.

"Jeez Captain!  Couldn't you give some sort of warning before sneaking up
like that?  I'm not a young man anymore."

After a quick smile to her out of breath detective, she turned her attention
towards Nick who used the opportunity to speak up.

"Can I see you for a moment Captain?"

"Sure, in my office."  Then turning back to Schanke, she studied him for a
second.  "And Schanke, you should be more aware of your surroundings-being
that you are a detective."

Pressing his lips firmly together, Schanke forced out a worried smile and
watched as his partner followed the Captain into her office.

After turning on the lights, Captain Cohen found a place for her coat and
sat down behind the old desk.  With a quick movement, she pushed a pile of
reports off to the side, and glanced up at Nick who was turning to close the
door behind him.  After he positioned himself to face her again, she
gestured for him to be seated, but he remained standing.

"So what is it that I will not allow?"

"I cannot protect Orah, Captain.  I need to be reassigned."

"Absolutely not!  Your partner is right, as much as I hate to admit that."

"Captain, you do not understand.  I am not the right one for this."

"There is nothing to understand.  Orah is Schanke and your responsibility.
I have no one else to spare.  Just keep her out of harm's way until she
leaves here.  There is only one more show tomorrow night."

"I'm not right for this Captain.  Let Schanke handle this."

"Do I look like I care if you are the right one?  She is yours, just do your
best.  Schanke should be by to relieve you on and off during the night.
Which reminds me, after you pick her up, I want you to take her to your
place.  No one should know to look for her there."

Looking defeated, he stood before her silently.

"Is there anything else Knight?"  "No Captain."  As he went to reach for the
door's handle, she cleared her throat and he glanced back.

"Knight?  I believe you *are* the best man for this job."

With a nod, he tried to sound optimistic.

"Thanks Captain.  I sincerely hope that you are right."

After closing the office door behind him, Nick moved back to his desk and
sat down hard causing Schanke to look up.

"So was I right, or was I right?"

"You were right Schanke."

"Take it easy Knight.  You are thinking about this all wrong.  Think about
this as a blessing.  She can lay her hands on me and cure me anytime she
wants."

"Cure you Schanke?  I don't think that is possible."

"Oh ye of little faith, ye of little faith."

"Well, just do not let Myra see how much faith you have.  I rather not have
you sleeping at my place again."

End Part 10

After clearing off the snow that had accumulated on the Caddy, Nick pulled
out of the parking spot that he had occupied in front of the precinct.  By
now, the snow covered roads were becoming impassable, but the weight of the
Caddy made the trip to the Hospital uneventful.  The massive green vehicle
easily glided through the harsh weather.  Not wishing to turn on the radio
in anticipation that he would have to endure another lecture from his
Master, he turned his attentions to the sounds around him.  The low hum of
the motor combined with the rhythm of the windshield wipers that cleared his
field of vision.  He watched as each snowflake seemed to fling itself
against the wet glass as he sped into the night.  Suddenly, the wind driven
snow began to blow harder against the car.  He had driven into a squall, and
it was becoming impossible to see.  Carefully, he pulled over towards the
curb to wait for the storm to pass.  Turning off the motor, The Caddy stood
still by the side of the road.  The view before him instantly became
obscured in a thin layer of white, and he became engrossed in the patterns
that the newly fallen snow performed before him.  Staring deeply into the
cool whiteness, his thoughts drifted back to the time just after LaCroix had
followed him to Los Angles with Janette.  The time right after Don
Constantine had told his Father of his whereabouts.

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

As they rode further away from the city's lights, he knew that she could
feel his stare penetrate her.  Even though more than a week had passed since
LaCroix had tracked down his run away son with his sister's help, he still
could only feel coldness towards her.  Of all that he had endured, it was
her betrayal that hurt him the most, even more than the ruthless beating
that he had to bear from LaCroix shortly after he had been located.  In an
exceptional act of viciousness, LaCroix had demanded that Janette stay to
witness his unmerciful beating so that she would suffer as well.  He knew
that she had agonized tremendously as their Master made certain that every
one of his bones had shattered, every muscle had torn, and not one part of
his pale complexion escaped the multicolor discoloration of the bruising.
He had tried not to let her know that he was aware that she too had
experienced each and every injury that their Master inflicted upon him.
Through blood filled eyes, he had seen her biting her lip and tightly
closing her eyes as she first handedly observed the resigned look on his
face as he never once resisted LaCroix's punishment. It was obvious that the
guilt over telling their father about how she had arranged for her brother's
escape to Don Constantine was consuming her.  What she had done was a
betrayal, and of course he could only view her now as disloyal.  Would there
ever come a time when he could trust her again?  He looked over into her
sullen eyes, and he could easily feel her torment over what had happened,
yet he could not summon up any feelings of forgiveness. Maybe it was too
soon to feel anything different.  In a strange way, he almost enjoyed that
she felt his resentment of her.  And it was even better that she could feel
the pleasure that LaCroix was receiving that both of his children continued
to suffer for their acts of defiance.  After all he had gone through, he
could only feel that it was just that she should suffer too.  As he studied
her, he watched as her eyes unconsciously shifted to their father who
recognized her with a small nod of his head.  It was readily apparent how
well he held them captive both physically and emotionally.  As she quickly
looked away, he could feel her hurt over the situation deepen.  Turning his
head away from his sham of a family, he looked out his back seat window.
The large car that LaCroix had hired was having a difficult time driving
over the broken dirt roads causing them all to vibrate from the motion.  The
bright city lights of Los Angles had long since faded from a distant glow to
only the moonlit sky.  As a farm and a home appeared off in the distance,
LaCroix directed the driver to stop.  After the vampire family departed from
the car, LaCroix paid the driver who anxiously left them on the side of the
dirt road. The drive from the heart of the city had been almost an hour, and
not one word had passed between the family members.  As the dust from the
departing car began to settle, he turned towards his father.

"Why do you bring us out here?"

Brushing the dust from his black cloak, a smile began to cross his face.

"It has been so long since we have done anything as a family.  I thought
that the country air might re-awaken some of your instincts."

"You brought me out here to kill."

"Not just kill, but to feast.  To gorge on the holy ones."

Out of the side of his eye, he saw Janette step back as she felt the rage
seethe within her brother.

"I do not kill anymore, and nothing you can do can change that LaCroix."

"Suit yourself."  Turning towards Janette, he put out his arm for her hand.
"You will join me my daughter, will you not?"

The discomfort of her dilemma to stay or to hunt was easily felt by her
brother.  It was clear that the thought of having her pick of so many was
intriguing, but she hesitated.  Her predicament gnawed at her as she tried
not to cause a further division between herself and him.  Finally she let
her quandary end with her response.

"I will stay with Nichola, you can go on without me."

"My, my, all this food.  Whatever will I do with all of it?  Are you sure
you will not change your mind Janette?  We are far from home, and I do not
recall you feeding before we left."

"I am not hungry now."

While raising both eyebrows, he thoughtfully considered her sacrifice to
stay with her sibling and smiled.

"Why Janette, I cannot bring to mind ever hearing those words from you.
Very well then, I will be down at the meeting of the holy ones should you
change your mind.  Why not join me to watch the show?  It promises to be
quite interesting.  You do not have to indulge to see what fools these holy
ones are."

Taking a step closer to her brother, she held her ground.

"I will find my own entertainment LaCroix."

"As you wish, but do remember that we must depart at least an hour before
dawn."

The lighted old barn filled with worshipers stood more than a mile from
where they stood, and they watched as their Master arrived at the door in
less than a second.  For a moment Nick listened with his heightened senses
to all the chanting and voices that surrounded his Master as he watched the
elder vampire walk inside and lost visual contact with him.  Even though he
was far from the crowd of devoted worshipers, he could feel their excitement
in the air and he was more than a little curious as to what was happening.
Surely LaCroix knew that he would not be tempted to kill merely because he
took him out to the country.  There was a lesson here for him, it was the
only explanation as to why LaCroix had taken them so far from the city.  He
was testing him, even baiting him with the mortals that he admired the most.
  The ones who would have complete faith in a Supreme Being.  Even though
his hunger stirred inside him, the idea of draining one filled with goodness
sickened him.  If it was his Master's plan to have him succumb to his hunger
at the sake of the righteous, then he was sorely mistaken.

Once more, his hunger clamored to be satisfied, and his thoughts turned to
Janette who he was sure was not finding this self imposed fast desirable,
especially with the feast that lay only seconds away from them.  It was
admirable that she denied her nature enough to stay with him.  It was a
gesture that she made out of love, and his irritation of what she had done
began to soften.  After all, it was not totally her fault that she had
disclosed the information of his whereabouts.  Had she resisted, she would
only have been beat as well, and LaCroix would have had his information that
way.  Having her hurt would not have been what he desired.  It was time to
let go of all his anger.  It was unfathomable to imagine despising her for
this act for all of eternity, for they had shared too much time and love to
allow that to happen.  After all it was his actions to escape that put her
in this situation with their master, and now by not allowing her back into
his life, he was acting no better than LaCroix.  How he was treating her was
cruel, and he shuddered to think that he was picking up his fathers
attribute for revenge.  Glancing over at his sister, he smiled as he watched
her brush the dust from the road from her shimmering silk dress.  Here they
were out on an isolated country road, and his alluring sister was dressed as
elegantly as if she had recently walked out of the most chic salon in all of
Paris.  Feeling his heart soften, he moved to remove a small patch of soot
that she had missed.

"Janette, you really do not have to stay with me."

"I know that I do not have to.  I want to."

"It does not change what has happened."

"I'm sorry Nichola.  I never wanted you to get hurt."

Moving to put her arms around him, he felt his resentment of her return and
he pushed her aside.  Angrily, he turned away from her.

"When you told him who you sent me to, what were you thinking?"

"I only wanted us all to be a family again.  I did not want to lose you."

Shaking his head, he turned back to face her again.

"You had to know of LaCroix's reaction to my leaving."

"I was afraid that you might be harmed being so far from us."

The irony of her reasoning only frustrated him more as he sadly looked away.

"The only one who can hurt me is the one you directed to me."

His remark was accurate, and it stung at her as the rays of the sun.  She
longed for the answer that would have him understand how truly sorry she was
that he had been hurt because of her.  Moving closer to him, she lightly ran
her soft fingers down his face as she lovingly spoke to him.

"Please Nichola, can we forget this and start again?  It feels terrible when
we are apart.  Please come back to us Nichola."

Pulling her hand from his face, his resolve once again became hardened.

"I will never come back Janette, not in the way of our kind.  Not to him and
not to you."

Again she approached him and tried to relax him by messaging his shoulders.
Tenderly, she pressed her body against him.  Then sliding her hand behind
his head, she pulled him close and deeply kissed him.  Pulling slightly
away, she checked his reaction to her ministrations.

"Just for tonight.  Come back to me, just for tonight."

Without a word, he bent down and deepened their kiss as he felt his hunger
for her consume him.  Passionately, he wrapped his arms around her and
crushed her into himself.  Then after several intense kisses, he pulled
slightly away to reveal to her the vampire's eyes that glowed with desire
for her.  He smiled when he saw that the fire in her eyes matched his, and
she was content to see him like this.  While letting his anticipation for
her grow, he took his time as he pushed away her long dark hair from her
neck.  After revealing all of her long porcelain colored neck, he gently
kissed her throat.  He felt his body vibrate from the need for her.  Again
he pressed his body against her, as he moved his moistened lips across her
neck until he found the spot that once beat with a vibrant mortal artery.
The hunger for her intensified, and he was grateful to feel his fangs
emerge.  Licking and nibbling at the source of his desire, his entire mouth
quivered as he forced his teeth to pierce her flesh. The warmth of her blood
rushed into him, making him feel as close as he could to alive.  Savoring
her as a rare delicacy, he sucked slowly and sensuously. Trembling still, he
withdrew from her and allowed her to consume him as he had just taken her.
Now he could feel the pulsating waves of pleasure pour from him as they
crashed into her mouth.  His excitement grew again as he listened to her
moan in ecstasy as her fangs deeply penetrated him and drew from his
essence.  He had not held back anything, and she knew that she no longer
needed to fear that his love for her was lost.  After feeling her fangs
release from his neck, his thoughts were assaulted by the sensation of his
Father, and he could feel that he was pleased.  He was satisfied that his
children were once again back together, and gratified that they had
expressed themselves in a way fitting to their true nature.  Although he
tried to block his Master's feelings, he could not rid himself of his
intrusion even during this most sensual of times.  Trying to ignore his
Master's satisfaction, he slid behind his sister and pulled her against him.
  He had denied himself her sweet essence for too long, and he relaxed as he
rested his head on her shoulder and gazed into the cool whiteness of the
full moon.  It was one of the most peaceful times that he could remember for
a long time.

Suddenly the calm was shattered as the static from his police radio shocked
him back into present time.  The only whiteness he now saw was cold and had
completely covered his car.  Reaching for his radio, he pressed in the
button to respond.

"Yeah, Knight here."

"81 Kilo, Captain Cohen was concerned about your whereabouts in the storm.
Will you still be en route to the Hospital?"

"81 Kilo, yes.  I will be proceeding there now."

Turning on his wipers, he watched as the heavy snow was pushed to the side.
The beauty of Winter surrounded him.  The squall had ended, and only a few
flakes still fluttered in the air.  Pulling the car back onto the road, he
knew there were only a few more blocks to the Hospital.

End Part 11

Back to Parts One - Five! / Onto Parts Twelve - Seventeen!