Arching a disdainful eyebrow at his child's assortment of vests that filled
an entire quadrant of his closet, LaCroix snorted.  To think that his son
had
once been as fashion conscience as Janette.  And that pastel pink
monstrosity!  What thrift store had Nicholas purchased that from?  He
really had to introduce the boy to his tailor.
 

Pulling out a sky blue shirt, Nick presented to his elder for inspection.
 

"Don't be ridiculous, mon fils."
 

Forcing his eyes not to roll heavensward, Nick put the shirt back---the
third his sire had refused with little grace, and considered the remaining
options.  His hand wandered over to the pink shirt that Nat had given him.
 

"Offer me *that*, Nicholas, and I most certainly *will* perform for my
audience 'skyclad', LaCroix nearly growled.
 
 
 

"Well, choose something then!" the annoyed detective grumbled.  Lord!  It
wasn't like he was offering the man rags!  They may not be Armani's, but
they weren't cheap either.  Working as a detective didn't allow him to
openly splurge his true income.  If he did, IA would have a field day with
him.
 

After a lot of unnecessary stalling, LaCroix finally picked out a long,
black, Autralian duster that he knew was Nick's favorite.  Before his son
could protest the choice, he shrugged it on and buttoned it up.
 

"Now *this* should as the mortals say:  "Cover a multitude of sins."
 

The corner of Nicholas's lips edged upwards in a bemused smirk as he noted
the way the jacket was stretched taught over his sire's larger frame.  "If
that's so, then its no wonder that it looks fit to burst."
 

His sire straightened up into a regal pose that would have done Caesar
Augustus proud.
 

"Flattery will avail you nothing, mon fils," he advised his chuckling
offspring.
 
 
 
 
 

Fortunately, Schanke was all too willing to forget what he had seen---once
LaCroix had explained to him that his death was his only alterntive.  He
knew that Nicholas hated having to allow his friend's recent memories to be
rearranged, but it was necessary---not only for Schanke's health, but for
all of those involved if the Enforcers should ever hear of this.  He sent
the man on his way, well aware that the coroner was giving him the 'evil
eye' during the entire procedure.
 

Now that they were alone in the garage, the doctor lost no time in verbally
pouncing on him.
 

"Alright...just who are you, what are you doing here, where's Nick, and why
are you wearing his jacket?"
 

LaCroix ignored her inquiries, seemingly taking interest in the
'casual/dressy' ensemble she was wearing:  a bare-sleeved and v-neck  number
made of burgandy red silk.
 

"What a delightful dress you've chosen for the occasion, Doctor.  A pity it
was all for nought seeing as I must rescind the offer of a date."
 

"What do you mean?"
 

"I'm afraid that the dinner invite you received was more my idea than
Nicholas'."
 

"What?  I don't believe you."  She crossed her arms in front of her chest
and demanded again:  "And you didn't answer me.  Who the heck are you?"
 

"Really, Dr. Lambert---such aggression!  Under any other circumstances, I
would find that quality alluring.  Let me assure you that it was I who spoke
with Grace at the morgue---not Nicholas.  As for who I am..."  He eyed her
narrowly.  "Are you sure you *really* want to know?" he growled, letting his
eyes go amber.
 

Natalie gulped, taking a step away from him before she collected herself.
"You're a va.. you're like Nick, that much is obvious.  And since you didn't
drain Schanke," she added with barely concealed hopefullness,  "I'm guessing
your a friend of either his or Nick's since we are both still alive.
 

The vampire chuckled under his breath; not, Natalie decided, a pleasant
sound.
 

"My, my... and you still consider yourself a scientist despite all that
jumping to conclusions you are doing?  Whether I am his 'friend' or not is
currently up for debate between Nicholas and I.  Fathers cannot always be
'friends' to their children.  There must needs be authority on one side and
obediance on the other.  But to answer your questions in order.. I am Lucien
LaCroix, what I am doing here is my business, Nicholas has very likely not
left his bed since falling asleep into it but a moment ago, and I am wearing
this garment because Nicholas rather objected to the alternative."
 

Natalie's eyes widened as his earlier words sunk in.  "Father?  *You're* the
bastard that's been abusing him!"
 

"I see that Nicholas has been sharing a bit more than he should," LaCroix
grumbled.  Fortunately for this one, he had promised his son that he would
not harm either of the mortals; it had been the only way he'd been able to
get Nicholas to even consider going straight to bed before he passed out on
the floor.  Indeed, his son had practically done that anyway and he had had
to help the boy up the stairs.  Of course, he could just 'retract' the
promise, but his child had already gone through enough trauma tonight.
Also, he was feeling a bit magnaminous to the whims of his favorite just
now.
 

Not that Nicholas' little heart-to-heart had affected him.
 

"Yes, Miss Natalie Lambert," LaCroix sarcastically went on, "I am the
villian parent modern pyschology so loves to blame.  And you, dear Doctor,
are the ignorant would-be adventurer partaking on a mission that has far
more lethal potential for yourself than you can imagine.  Indeed, that
Nicholas has not either brought you across or snacked on that pretty neck of
yours is something of a marvel.  Time was he had no patience for playing
with his food."
 

"If you think that Nick would hurt me, then you don't know him at all.  I am
only doing what he, himself, wants." Natalie pointed out, hoping she could
get him to see reason somehow.  Yeah, Lambert, she inwardly cringed.  Nick
has only been trying to do that for how long?  God, I can't believe I'm
trying to argue with a 2,000-year old sadistic vampire!
 

"My dear, what Nicholas wants is immaterial.  It is what he has already been
*given* that is important.  When he understands that, then he will have
ceased to be a child---though he will ever be my son."  With mock
graciousness, he offered her the handbag she had set aside while watching
him whammy her coworker.  "Get Nicholas to understand that, Doctor, and I
will be in your debt.  But continue to feed his notions of regaining an
existence that consists---for all intents and purposes---of one foot in the
grave, and you will find yourself the recipient of your replacement's
handiwork.  That is... if they find you at all."  He pointed out to her the
exit to the outside world.  "Goodbye, Doctor.  I'm sure Nicholas has already
warned you about the dangers of disturbing a sleeping vampire."
 

"But--!"  Natalie started to protest, but the rather sinister vampire was
already gone.  Sighing heavily in both frustration and relief, she
shouldered her hand bag and hit the garage door release, planning on coming
back later---when Nick might be awake and his father absent.
 

Assured that the mortals were gone for now, LaCroix flew back upstairs to
Nicholas' bedroom.
 

Nicholas was, as he expected, still dead asleep, his face peaceful in
slumber.  He reached out and smoothed back a lock of hair in order to lay a
light kiss on the knight's forehead.
 

"Nicholas...  You want to be my equal?  Mon fils, why ever would you wish
for that?  Blood of my blood, created irreplaceably precious for having been
*chosen* rather than basely made like some poor mortal's 'accident of
birth', can you not see that you already hold a far more loftier position in
my heart than mere equality can ever attain?"
 

Gently, he caressed the unshaven cheek before straightening.  It was time he
went home as well.  For rest, yes, but also to think.  Nicholas would need
to be given at least the illusion of having a longer leash---while not
actually having the freedom he was not ready for.  This would take some
strategizing on his part.  Too, he did not like the fact that the griffin
had chosen to stay in the loft instead of disappearing back to wherever it
had come from.  (After Nicholas had fallen asleep, he had stopped at the
metallic sculpure now planted on the loft's floor thinking to fly it away.
The thing refused to budge from the spot as if it was part of  the
building!)  He also needed to talk with Aristotle about what sources of
information the Greek had found on the creature.  One way or another, he
would find a way to protect his naive son should the animal's friendship
with Nicholas disintergrate like its mist the minute it got hungry again.
 
 
 
 
 

Epilogue:
 
 
 

"Nick!"  Natalie's call echoed throughout the loft.  She hoped he was alone.
 

"Hold on, Nat!  I'll be right there!" came his voice from the upstair's
bedroom.
 

Natalie walked over to the couch, intent on taking a seat while she waited
for him to come down.  After meeting LaCroix, she had tried to call Nick,
only to get his answering service.  Which had meant that either he was out,
or that the vampire master had not been lying.
 

Noticing a new addition off to the side of the fireplace, she went over to
inspect it.
 

A stone and metallic griffin?
 

Last night when she had arrived at the loft in anticipation of spending a
pleasant dinner alone with Nick, she'd been met inside of the garage by a
very upset Schanke.  Don had babbled on about 'weird stuff' happening
upstairs and how Nick had wanted her to stay in the garage.  At first, she
had thought that Nick had inadvertently lost control of the vampire while
Schanke was there---exposing his Beast---and wanted his mortal partner out
of harm's way until he could collect himself enough to whammy Don into
forgetting what he had seen.  But then LaCroix had come down and done the
deed instead.
 

She hadn't thought much of it at the time (being primarily concerned for
Nick's state of mind and then his health after learning that the abusive
LaCroix had been up there with him), but somewhere in Don's excited
ramblings Natalie thought that she had heard him say that LaCroix had fought
with a griffin that had almost torn all of them to shreds.
 

Griffins, she knew, were not real.
 

And even if they were, a statue wouldn't have been able to do much damage to
an ancient vampire save maybe knock him out if it fell on his head.  Maybe.
 

And yet, LaCroix had come down to them inexplicably wearing Nick's long
jacket.
 

Curious, she reached out to touch the hooked beak--
 

--and nearly fell over backwards when the eyes glowed a yellowish orange.
 

Startled, she looked at the cold orbs again.
 

Glass.  The eyes were made of of some tangerine-colored glass.  Obviously, a
bit of light must have hit the glass at just the right angle to make them
appear as if they had glowed for a split second.
 

Sure... just a reflection.  Any other explanation would be...
 

"Hey, Nat!" Nicholas called out as he bounded down his staircase to give her
a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.  "Sorry about that dinner.  I had a lot
of unexpected company and they all just wore me out.  Whaddya say I treat
you to someplace special out on the town?" he asked as he hooked his arm
around hers and headed for the door.
 

He's trying to get rid of me, Natalie thought as she considered his overly
excited expression.  Or rather, he's wants me out of here.  She delibrately
freed her arm and turned away from him.  Moving back to the statue, she put
her hand on the bronzed and silvered head.
 

"Collecting more accessories, Nick?" she asked him.  "It goes well with the
mantelpiece."
 

Nicholas followed her eyes to the carved gnome and dragon.  "I suppose so,"
he answered in a quiet voice.
 

When he had purchased the wooden mantel he hadn't bothered to research its
history.  Now he was almost afraid to, lest it turn out that the two
arboreal monsters had their own respective legends.  One vampire Community
and a griffin were quite enough of fabulous myths for an ex-knight to have
to deal with, thank you very much.
 

He forced himself to smile at his coroner friend as he handed her the
caddilac keys.
 

"Why don't you go down and warm the old girl up while I get my checkbook?"
 

Now Natalie was *certain* something was up.  Nick never let anybody handle
his baby unless it was absolutely necessary---like he needed to ride in the
trunk while she drove him somewhere.
 

She opened her mouth to demand that he come clean with her, but shut it
again when he gave her that puppy-dog look of his.
 

The look she was sure he must have spent all eight centuries perfecting.
 

"Okay." she caved in.  "But only if I get to chose the restaurant and you
promise to eat whatever I ask you to."
 

He looked pained at that, but nodded his agreement.
 

Stepping into the lift, she smiled cheerfully at him.
 

This isn't over, Mr. Nicholas B. Knight, she thought.  But a full course
lobster dinner will grant you a reprieve.
 
 
 
 
 

Walking quickly back to the griffin, Nick knelt down and gave the statue his
most fearsome glare.
 

"Very funny, Grif," he rebuked it.  "Just remember.  If she finds out about
you, you may just discover yourself giving specimen samples.  So I highly
recommend that you mind your manners around Dr. Natalie Lambert.  Capiche?"
 

Giving the cold metal head a last admonishing wack with his billfold, he
left to join Natalie in the garage, snuffing out all of the lit candles as
he did so.
 

Alone in the darkness, glass eyes glowed eerily as the beak twisted into a
smile.
 
 

======
Finis
Hope you enjoyed despite all the typos I missed.
Is this the last of Grif?  Darned if I know.  Depends on whether the thing
is satisfied or still hungry.  Time will tell.  :)=

Back to Part Five!