There was noise. The sound of shutters kicking into motion to perform the everyday task of locking the sun outside where it belonged. The roar of the occasionally passing trucks, speeding down Gateway Lane to their unknown destinations. The refrigerator’s incessant humming.
Indications of the passage of time.
Except to her, it felt like time had stretched and suddenly solidified, every second extended to infinity, every minute a practice of excruciating strain. She looked up at Nick, who had become silent an hour ago, after spending the better part of the day soothing her, comforting her while explaining what had happened. He had talked about the Enforcers, the Community, the High Council and the Code, unaware of her total lack of comprehension. Just the reality of how good it felt to be in his arms was enough for her to know. She just wanted to stay like that, in his arms, and not have to listen to what would come next.
Nick’s injuries had long since healed, but his appearance had stayed that of a troubled man. He was extremely agitated, and jerked at every unexpected sound, most of them inaudible to her normal human ears. All the while, he had tried to make up for what he had failed to do in the past few days, to explain to her what went wrong and the possible consequences. But now it appeared to be too much information all at once. Too many fables presented as facts for her brain to understand. She laid her head against his chest, reveling in the comfort and protection it gave her, remembering how she had longed for it for so long. Longed for his touch that had become part of her dreams ever since she had started thinking of him. And when had that been? Last month, when she saw him in his crisp white T-shirt and dark Denim jeans? Last year, when he saved her from Roger Jameson and her date from hell? Or was it right from the very moment he sat up on her examination table, when he grabbed her hand and placed it on his soiled, handsome face and told her what he was. And it seemed so long ago: ‘I’m dead.’---‘No, you’re not. You’re not dead.’ She pressed herself harder against him, wishing they could stay like this till the end of time. But when the tiny pins of sunray penetrated through the shutters—against all their high-tech impeccability—and elongated to their mature length, indicating the nearness of the night, she knew their perfect moment was over. And today, accompanying the familiar sense of loss her heart always felt in the last stages of their rarely occurring intimacies, was another sensation from the trauma they had faced last night, a sense of dread and of impending danger.
As the day started to fade into night, Nick slowly untangled his arms from around Natalie, and holding her by her shoulders, turned her so they were face to face. Through his touch, he could sense her body’s faint trembling and could hear her heart as it pounded wildly in her chest. He looked at her deeply, hoping to obtain her full attention.
“Nat, you must leave town immediately.”
She blinked, her eyes betraying her inner feelings. A fountain of diverse emotions reflected in their depths before she actually found the words to voice them. And even as she did, they sounded nothing more than a desperate plea, although verbalized in the form of a vulgar objection.
“No, I’m not going to leave you all alone here at their vile mercies. I’m not…”
Nick silenced her imploringly by putting a finger on her lips. His face, filled with an unspoken sorrow, almost resembled the hopeless expression it had that first night she’d met him in the morgue.
“Please, Nat. Just listen to me, just this once. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She countered, “But what if he’s really gone, Nick? What if last night was the end of all his threats? He roughed you up and scared me to my death and left. Suppose what he said at the end was just a load of bluff?”
Nick shook his head in negation. “No, Nat, it wasn’t. I know Enforcers better than you do. The only reason he left us alone last night was because your case was outside his jurisdiction and not a part of his assignment. He’s probably gone straight to the Toronto Council and presented it by now. If you don’t get out of here before the sun sets, they’ll catch you and set you on trial based on their own twisted laws, and most likely condemn you to a death worse than you can ever imagine.”
“And you? Isn’t that the same treatment they’ll give you if you stay behind?”
Nick’s eyes took on a distant look and she knew he was struggling to hide his contempt. “I’m a vampire, Nat. I can stand their treatment, perhaps even rescue myself.”
“Against that crazy sonofabitch? He’ll tear you to shreds with those stiletto fangs of his. My gosh, I thought I was looking a prehistoric mountain lion in the face.”
Nick smiled at her sense of humor, even in a situation like this. But it was short-lived and he knew he had to try again. “Nat, please listen to me. They will kill you if you stay. There is no question about the fate of a mortal who knows of our existence without being bound to a vampire.”
“Then ‘bind’ me to yourself.”
“It’s not that easy.” He looked away. “For a mortal to become bound to a vampire, it requires the vampire to drink from the mortal’s blood over a consistent period of time. It is a dangerous practice, and even done right, it will cost the mortal her independence and her power of will. It will turn you into a thrall, Nat.” He let go of her shoulders and clutched his hands in his lap, looking intensely at the floor.
Natalie threw her hands up angrily. “All right, then come with me. Why do you have to stay behind and face them alone like some foolish martyr who needs to sacrifice himself…?” Her voice broke on a sob before she could finish her sentence coherently. Nick reached out and folded his arms around her shoulder again, drawing her back to his embrace and holding her while she cried.
He brushed his lips on her hair and spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Nat. I’m really sorry, but I can’t go with you. If I do, they’ll track us easily down by sensing my presence as one of their kind. I don’t want to risk your life by signaling them towards you. Not only can I not come with you, you also have to make sure not to tell me where you’ll go, so that if they try to extract that information from me unwillingly, they can’t.”
At his last words, Natalie’s eyes widened and she looked up. “What do you mean, unwillingly? You mean they are going to torture you to find out where I am? Oh Nick, how can I let that happen?”
Nick cupped her face with his hands and stared caringly into her eyes. He said, “If you stay, the odds would be even worse for me. They can use you to make me do anything they want. They can torture me by hurting you; make me kill for them to save you. I will never recover from the guilt of it, and I may even lose my sanity. At least this way, I don’t have to worry about you.”
She blinked her tears from her eyes and let them flow down her face. At last, she just pleaded.
“Then run away by yourself. What is the point of staying behind and waiting for the inquisitors to show up and give you the medieval treatment?
Nick patiently stroked her hair. Amidst all the anguish and confusion, he still couldn’t help but smile at the loveliness of her face. He traced his finger over the line of her jaw and her lips, and spoke to her benevolently. “No, Nat. I have to stay in town to watch over Schanke and his family. What happened last night might have undone the jury’s conclusion about their case as well, making them a potential target for the Enforcers again. It would be extremely selfish of me to leave them here just to save my own hide.”
She closed her eyes and burrowed tighter in his embrace, unable to contain the exasperation in her voice as she said, “Yeah, that is the damned problem with you. It should always be you who saves everyone at the cost of his own suffering. You whose body will shield the world against all the pain that rains down on it. You! The white knight, the self-sacrificing hero.”
Nick kissed her tear-soaked face, trying to comfort her. He didn’t speak anymore, for he knew that no matter what he said, she wasn’t a fool and was right in her concern over the situation. He contented himself with brushing his cheek against hers and closed his eyes. After a long time passed, he finally was able to speak again.
“Nat, please don’t worry about me, ok? I swear I will take care of myself and everything will eventually be all right. Arthur was a little mad last night because he thought I lied to him. But in truth, he is a very rational Enforcer. He will listen to reason if I tell him about our situation, and maybe they’ll even drop the whole thing, you know, like they did with Myra and Schanke. But for me to be able to handle it, I need you to be out of harm’s way. I can’t afford being diverted by having to worry about you. So please, do this for *me.* Leave as fast as you can, at least for tonight.”
Natalie sat up, still hiccuping from her recent weeping. She absently searched for one of her shoes she had lost during their hugging and crying scene, and brushed the tears away from her face. She said, “I first have to call the coroner’s office and tell them to book me off for the night. I--I don’t even know where to go, but if this is what you want, then all right, I’ll go, just for you. Hope you remember afterwards how I listened to you tonight and pay me back for it. Oh yes, am _I_ going to enjoy making you swallow my protein shakes by the gallon to get even with you, you bastard piece of chivalry, you.”
She slapped his hands away when he tried to help her straighten up her clothes, and stood up. She walked to the sink, and washed the tears and makeup stains from her face before she turned to him once again.
“Do you know how this makes me feel? How much guilt it puts on my shoulders just to think I’m leaving you here with them? It was my fault anyway that I couldn’t shut my big mouth and not…”
Nick interrupted her before she could say another word and rob his guilt for herself. “No, Nat. Never say that, it wasn’t your fault at all, it was mine. I should have told you sooner about what was going on around us this past week. But now is not the time to think about that. The sun will set soon and you only have that much time to put a safe distance between them and yourself.”
She hiccupped again. “Ok, I won’t think about it. Where is my purse?” She reached and grabbed it from the table, continuing her thoughts aloud. “I won’t think about it. It’ll be fine, all fine. I’ll go far. Very far. Let me think where I can go. Oh God, I don’t even know. Maybe I should go to…”
Nick was at her side in an eye blink, stopping the rest of her words from coming out by putting his finger on her lips. His expression was serious. “Nat, you mustn’t tell me where you go, do you understand? Just take off and leave. And don’t look back or anything until I call you and tell you it’s safe. Will you promise me that?” Nat nodded her head like an obedient little girl, with Nick’s finger still resting on her lips. Mumbling around it she said, “All right, I’ll take my cell phone with me.” Her hand rose and closed around Nick’s arm, pulling his hand and finger down from her face. Her eyes never left his. “Promise you’ll be careful, Nick.”
“I promise.”
They hugged one last time, holding onto each other like they needed to for a while. Then she stepped away and headed for the elevator. Once she walked in, she turned and looked at him, a hesitant farewell balancing on the tip of her tongue. He looked so lonely standing there all by himself in the loft. The door slid closed in front of her, hiding him from her view behind its unforgiving solidity. He never sensed when she was gone.
--------------------
Nick stared at the stack of piled paper awaiting him on his desk in utter frustration. Why was it that whenever a case was over they were immediately buried in a mound of unsolveds and bureaucratic rubbish? His brain froze when he remembered how these had been his exact same thoughts the night they were assigned to the Timanus case. How long ago was that? A week, a month, a century ago?
The shift moved at a snail's pace, but then again, desk duty always did. Yet when he looked up and saw the clock strike four, he knew he wasn’t ready to leave. He felt safe back there behind the paper fortress, the fake barrier resembling the façade of his mortal life. It was like a boring dream, one you didn’t enjoy but didn’t want to wake from either, because if you did, you would have to face another day and the painful truth of real life from which there was no escape. One more hour to go, then it would be time for him to wake up and face reality.
He heard Schanke call his name and looked up. His partner was looking at him quizzically.
“Hey, Knight! You all right back there?”
“Yeah, Schank, why are you asking?”
Schanke threw his shoulders up. “I dunno, you look like Jenny on an exam day with no cramming the night before. Now tell me, have you talked to Natalie at all tonight?”
He couldn’t repress his involuntary flinch at the mention of Natalie’s name. Immediately, he got himself together and attempted to cover his apparent apprehension with a smile.
“No, why?”
“Umm, well, there was this thing I had to ask her, about the last report on our guy Timanus, but she seems nowhere to be found. I already checked the coroner’s building, but they said she had booked the night off. She wasn’t at her apartment either and even Grace said she had no idea where she could be. Although she said something about Natalie calling her before the shift and telling her she was going to…”
“It’s all right, Schank, I don’t want to know where she is.” Nick almost jumped out of his chair in an attempt to cut his friend off quickly.
Schanke looked at him in surprise, his suspicion confirmed that something was certainly wrong. Nick tried to keep his hands steady as he opened another folder and pretended to work.
“A-ha, so my first guess was right. It’s about Natalie, isn’t it?”
Nick looked up, aggravated. “What? What’s about Natalie? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being all edgy and on the frying pan tonight. It has something to do with Nat, doesn’t it? Did you guys have a fight or something?
Nick stared at him and inadvertently snapped the pencil he held in his hand. The sound of the pieces hitting the tabletop and the floor made Schanke start. Nick never moved his gaze.
“I have no problems with Natalie. I have no problems at all. Drop it, Schank, all right?”
“Ok, ok, Mr. Ivan the Terrible. I won’t say another word, see?” He made a sign of zipping his lips. “All zipped and sealed.”
Nick banged his fist hard against the surface of the table, as if something new had ignited him, and shouted at his partner, “Ivan IV of Russia was not terrible in any way. Most of what he did was aimed at uniting the country. It was his greedy family and those Russkii nobles who accused him of being mad.”
Schanke was speechless. He threw his hands up in a gesture of total confusion and said, “Wow, man, cool down a little, will you? No offense intended to your Russian buddy, how the heck would I know who he was? I heard his name in this show on A&E Myra was watching the other night, and thought it sounded cool, that’s all. What’s wrong with you tonight, anyway? It’s like you’re waiting for me to say something to get angry. Since when did you become so super sensitive?”
Nick sat back in his chair and grabbed his head with both hands as he muttered, “I--I'm so sorry! I’m sorry I snapped, Schank, you’re right. I don’t feel that well tonight. Maybe I should just go home.”
Schanke wiped his forehead and sighed, “It’s all right, partner. But try to drive carefully, ok? Looks like you’re a little upset tonight; can cause accidents you know. I’ll cover the rest of the shift.”
Nick thanked him silently as he reached for his coat and got ready to leave. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Whatever awaited him out there had to be confronted sooner or later. There was no sense in hiding in here, other than running the risk of endangering his friends’ lives even more. He waved his partner a charming goodbye and walked out of the precinct, the night air blowing to ruffle his hair. He was on his way to the Caddy when he saw something move in the shadows and disappear out of his sight. The next gust of wind brought coldness and dread. Not believing that anyone of his kind, Enforcer or not, would be so naïve as to confront him in an open parking lot, he wrote it off to his agitated imagination and walked the rest of the way to his car. He drove home in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1368 AD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LaCroix entered Acheron’s throne room with the same air of superiority he used to display every time he entered Caesar’s court as the victorious Roman general in his mortal days. Acheron was sitting on his throne placed high on a wide ornamented platform, fully dressed in his regal attire and holding his heavy sword in one hand. The Enforcer lord was leaning to the right, his elbow propped against the arm of the chair and his knuckles touching his lips in a contemplative manner. His eyes were fixed on LaCroix. Two of his warriors each stood on either side of him. Clad in black armor and the traditional and rather fearsome Guetenne’s headpieces that covered the larger part of their faces, they added to the dramatics of the scene. One look to the side revealed to LaCroix that the body of the mortal Germaine had been removed from the table it had lain on before, implying that the Enforcer lord had most likely recovered from the grief over his loss and was now ready to confront his opponent. Both vampires, lord and general, were radiating so much supremacy and mental command that it seemed to sway the room.
LaCroix instantly recognized Acheron’s maneuver to intimidate him by arranging the imposing scenery. He was fully aware of the old lord’s standing with the High Council and the power he yielded over nearly all of the legions of the Enforcement. He also knew the difficulty of the situation he and his son were in, as according to the Code, Nicholas’ deed was unquestionably punishable by true death, and that his son was only alive due to the old lord’s mercy and his fondness to take him for himself. Nevertheless, he was all but ready to face the challenge and save his most precious possession by relying on his own recently gained design for battling the superior foe. The thought brought a smile to his face as he walked toward the throne, head held high, his wide heavy cloak floating like a dark mane around him. He made sure his boots hit the stone floor hard enough to make the sound echo through the entire high-ceilinged room. Finally, he came to a halt in front of the steps that led to the surface of the platform and the massive seat, and looked at the peer of the realm with piercing eyes.
Acheron straightened in his seat. He put the sword at the side of the chair, where the jewels decorating its shield reflected the light from the room’s chandelier, and intertwined his fingers in front of him. He raised his chin and looked down at LaCroix with an air of dominion.
“Your business here is finished, General. You can gather your family and leave at any time.”
LaCroix fought to keep out the beastly snarl from his voice. “I am indeed more than eager to depart from your restful home, Lord Acheron. But I will only do so if my son is returned to me unharmed. I will not leave here without taking Nicholas with me.”
Acheron sighed, staring at the ceiling in a gesture of frustrated disapproval before responding, “General, I thought I made myself fully clear with regard to your son’s case. Nicholas has committed a felony against the Code which warrants him a death sentence. I am generously granting him his life, but for that, he has to join the Enforcement and serve to protect the Code. That is the fairest judgment I can give you. Watch him delivered to the Council either as a convict or a soldier, the choice is entirely yours.”
LaCroix observed his opponent with restrained hatred. He wouldn’t back down now, regardless of how much advantage the other wielded. Unknown to the other, he was still holding one last winning card in his hand, his last hope for winning this round. Closing his eyes briefly, he braced himself for the ultimate attack and put down the card.
“You would not want to face the Council with me,” he retorted.
“And why would that be?”
The vampire master opened his eyes. “Because if you do, I will tell them about your secret.”
Acheron was stunned momentarily, unsure of what he had just heard.
“What secret? What are you talking about? ”
LaCroix’s lips turned up in a smile. “You know exactly what I am talking about. I was there at the assembly of the Guetennes, the one they held at the secret hideout between the south hills, only they did not know about my presence. Credit that to my outstanding ability to shield myself.” He stopped, knowing too well how his speech was raising the level of anxiety in the old lord’s pretended coolness. Narrowing his eyes so that his words were amplified with his menacing gaze, he continued, “I know your secret, my friend. I know how you are gathering forces behind the High Council’s back, planning to create a legion of your own to defend your profits if time calls. I know they are vowed to obey you, to follow your command when things get rough. I guess with the power you gain as centuries pass, you justly anticipate the Council’s concern over your jurisdiction, and that they will eventually consider taking action to limit your command. You have prepared yourself for that moment, Lord Acheron, have you not? When you summon your personal army against the High Council to demonstrate how mighty you are and keep them off your back.”
He enjoyed the silence that ensued as Acheron fidgeted in disbelief. LaCroix had delivered his final blow, and he could see the effects of it on his adversary.
The first thing that came to Acheron’s mind was to deny the accusation. LaCroix could just as well be bluffing. But then he thought better of it. LaCroix was an ancient, and if he took his claim to the Council and proved it, it would mean the definite end of his career as the lord of the Enforcers, or perhaps even worse, the end of his un-life. Not losing an ounce of his nonchalance he stated, “What do you demand from me, General?”
LaCroix let out a well-hidden sigh of relief. At last, things were starting to turn to his favor. He folded his arms in front of his chest and spoke in an assertive voice.
“I want Nicholas to be released immediately, and I want all charges against him to be dropped. I will leave the castle promptly after that.”
“Agreed. However there is still the matter of your kin’s contribution to the Enforcement.”
“I will make my contribution by handing over another one of my children to the force. I assure you, he will live up to your expectation.” He grinned sardonically.
Acheron gritted his teeth. Although he did not consider this as defeat—merely a changed bargain between two sovereigns, each having something to use against the other—he wasn’t happy about the shift in the situation. He cursed himself for not being more careful in his affairs and for underestimating the enemy. LaCroix had been a military man, planning attack and defense was a part of his daily life, and for sure he had defeated many of his enemies using strategy and ploy. He had been just too self-confident to see it coming.
“I accept your treaty, General. My guards will be ordered to free your son right away. Arrangements are made for you to leave as soon as you wish. But before that, you must take your chosen child to the middle room at the east turret and mark him or her with the seal of the High Council. I assume you know that after that, you will lose all claims of ownership over that one. Are you content with that?”
LaCroix nodded his head in agreement. “I will have Nicholas in my room this very night. I will take care of the other task immediately after our conversation is over, but when I return, I expect to see my son safe and present in my room.”
Acheron bowed his head, even as he seethed inwardly. He cursed LaCroix under his breath and couldn’t help his instinctive growl when he saw him smirk in satisfaction.
“You know, my lord, you’re not the only ruler who has tasted my power of manipulation. I have survived by it for centuries, both as mortal and immortal. Remember that for the next time we meet, although I strongly hope it will be a very long time from now.”
When he turned to leave the room, he was pleased with the sound of Acheron’s sword being fiercely pulled out of its sheath. <What a waste of craftsmanship,> he thought as he listened to the noble ruler chop and break parts of his embellished throne seat with his sword in the fit of his unleashed anger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@}--`--}--,
-----
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were there. He knew it as soon as he turned the car into the garage. The area vibrated with their presence, and he felt it as he rode the elevator up to the loft. When it reached the top, he spent a long time just staring at the door, anticipating what was beyond before at last summoning the courage to grab the handle and yank it open.
He was greeted by four pairs of voraciously blazing eyes and a pair of stony green ones. Arthur and his Destroyers where waiting for him.
He silently stepped out of the lift and closed the door. The light from behind disappeared when the door was shut, leaving the large living area bathed in moonlight and the tiny flickers that were coming from the fireplace and one single candle lit on the kitchen table. He made a quick survey of the surrounding. Aside from the five Enforcers, he could sense other beings, ancient and powerful, standing just beyond the dim light in the shadows at the back of the loft. The feeling he was getting from them was the same he had felt when he had stood in trial in the dog-fighting arena two nights ago. He knew they had been informed and that this time, the handling would be rather different. He turned his eyes back to his brother, who was now standing in front of him, hands behind his back, chin raised, like an acrimonious SS officer ready to arrest a cornered resistance fighter.
“Greetings, Nicholas.”
His voice was different. Nick could sense the tinge of threat within it. Behind Arthur, the fully vamped out Destroyers formed a barrier, standing just a step away from the interrogator in a semi-circular formation. As the fluttery light of the candle was cast on their bulky forms, he saw for the first time that they were all armed with sharp stakes and special rifles. He forced himself to stay calm and show none of his inner feelings.
“Greetings to you, Arthur, and to your companions. Of course, you all are most welcome in my home.” In his sarcasm he almost sounded like LaCroix, and was oddly proud of it.
Arthur raised his eyebrows, but other than that, his stance didn’t change a bit. He continued in the same noncommittal tone.
“This is not an ordinary visit, as I’m sure you know.”
Nick fought to restrain an involuntary shiver. He knew of these visits; the stories of the Enforcers’ fearsome interrogation sessions had been told around in the Community for centuries. Most of their subjects either caved in or died the true death. He gulped uneasily, but didn’t take his eyes off the vampire who stood in front of him. He would not show fear, no matter what the cost; weakness would only denote his ultimate defeat. Just as he had strained himself to hold the interrogator’s gaze for as long as it took, he suddenly saw something different in the eyes: an age-old sorrow, a never-recited tale of pain and rejection, well hidden behind the impenetrable mask.
//I crave all that. I want all of what you said, the pain, the pressure, the punishment and the love. //
The memory of his words came to him entirely unbidden, but it was cut short by the echo of the cold voice coming from behind the mask, the stoic tone now leveled to utter the next unfeeling, reproachful announcement.
“You stand accused of violating the first article of the Code, the rule of concealment. There is a mortal in this city that knows about you and your nature and is _not_ by any means bounded to you or any other vampire. We need to know the whereabouts of that mortal, now.”
He didn’t blink. His eyes stayed fixed on the cruel and demanding face in front of him, but he didn’t speak a word.
//They were leaving the castle on the darkest of nights. No moon, no stars, not even fireflies in the forest. He felt cold even though he knew their kind wasn’t supposed to. The nightmare of the castle’s dungeon, the terror of his life hanging by a thread, of how he would be chastised by either the dark lord or his displeased master, stirred in his mind and made his body shiver as if standing in the path of a cold wind. He felt Janette squeeze his hand before she released it and went to get in the coach. Then he saw his master point to him and with his head hung low, he obediently walked to where the coach was waiting. But then he looked back—he didn’t know why, but it was as if something had tugged at his mind—and saw a face at the window looking down at him. He slowed.
“LaCroix, didn’t you say all the others had left? I think I see someone standing behind that window.” He pointed toward the middle window of the east tower directly facing them.
“All the others _have_ left, Nicholas, come here and let us be gone, too.”
“But, LaCroix, I see a face behind that window. Someone is looking at us from there.”
He felt his master’s anger flare through the link and then his large hand as it grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him toward the waiting coach in a nearly painful wrench. At the same time, he heard sullen words spoken into his ear. “I said there is no one left in the castle, boy. Come and get in the coach.”
He had no choice but to comply. A minute later, after they were all seated and settled down, the coach started to move, taking them away from Lord Acheron’s castle and Charente with all its memories and secrets left behind. //
The silence stretched between them. Arthur, watching the other’s muteness and reading it as concrete defiance, dropped his gaze to the floor and started pacing around him like a predator circling its prey. Having reached behind Nick, he leaned over his shoulder to speak softly in his ear.
“This isn’t a trial, Nicholas. You and your mortal ally are already convicted by the Council’s jury. All that we ask now is to know where she is.”
“And why is that, Arthur?” Nick finally countered, just as Arthur completed his circle around him and they once again stood face to face. “I mean, why do you need her to be here right now if the judgment is already passed? Could it be because the jury hasn’t really taken your word for it and needs more proof? Isn’t that why you need her present, to show them as evidence?”
Arthur’s eyes blazed. It seemed like he had greatly underestimated Nick’s astuteness, which had naturally sensed the presence of the jury. It was important to bring in the mortal soon, before he jeopardized his own reputation and that of the British Enforcement that he represented. Infuriated, he stepped up before Nick and hissed in his face.
“Tell us where she is.”
Nick stayed unspeaking as he coolly eyed the intimidating creature in front of him. Good, he was getting angry. Maybe that would give him a chance and prolong this interrogation enough for Natalie to put ample distance between them.
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me were she was going when she left.”
Arthur huffed like a steam machine. Nick discovered that he was actually enjoying giving the interrogator a tough time. He watched him turn around and take a few steps before he whirled again to address him.
“But I’m sure she left you a way to contact her. A cell phone number, a pager perhaps? She’s with the Toronto PD like you, isn’t she? Shouldn’t you guys always have a way to stay in touch?” He eyed him expectantly.
“I don’t know of any way to contact her. She left without saying a word to me or anyone else. I don’t think you can reach her at this point through any means.”
Arthur marched up to him, this time shouting irritably. “LIAR!”
He pushed his bare fangs in Nick’s face and Nick was reminded of Nat’s remark of the prehistoric mountain lion.
//I can crush you with my bare hand if I want, right here and now.//
With a swift movement, Arthur broke off the gaze and stepped back once again, studying him. Sensing that he would not get anything more out of his captive, he returned to the daunting interrogator mood and contemplated his next move. Then, as seamless as a dark cloud, a frightening calmness spread above his head and slowly floated down, covering his whole being like an evil cloak. He finally decided that time was over for senseless dialogue and had come for them to get some real answers.
He motioned to one of the agents to come closer and whispered something in his ear too hushed for even a vampire to hear. Then he turned toward his brother.
“Nicholas de Brabant, in respect of powers bestowed upon me by the High Council, I am to interrogate you to uncover the whereabouts of a certain mortal who is suspected of having illicit knowledge of our existence. You denied having knowledge either of her location or a way to contact her. I ask you once again, Nicholas de Brabant, is that what you claim to be the truth?”
Nick hesitated to answer. This was a difficult predicament. One did not lie to an Enforcer, the consequences of such a lie—if detected—were said to be deadly. Yet the truth wasn’t any less harmful, either, as it probably meant Natalie’s death in light of her extended knowledge about their kind. He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t know where she was, but the phone number she gave him before she left that night was the freshest thing on his mind, and he couldn’t deny that knowledge.
Finally, he lowered his eyes and answered, “It is the truth that I know nothing about her location. She didn’t tell me when she left.” He looked up, a kind of determination shining in his eyes. “That is all I will admit to you.”
Arthur snarled as he pressed on, “So you don’t deny possessing the knowledge of her way of contact? She did leave you a phone number by which you could reach her, didn’t she?”
Nick didn’t meet his gaze. He was now looking straight ahead, into the dismal void that shrouded his home.
//You don’t deserve to be with her. You don’t deserve any of this. You are just a mere infant who thinks he’s the prince of the realm. //
He knew they were watching him, that this wasn’t a trial anymore but a battle of wills between him and his brother. Taking in a single shallow breath, he answered the question with the truth.
“Yes. She did.”
Arthur was pleased. Not because he wouldn’t have enjoyed Nicholas’ condemning himself more by lying to them, but because the confession had cleared all doubts in his own mind about the situation. Of course the vampire wouldn’t let the mortal run off without having a way to track her. Vampires were highly territorial creatures, even if they were sometimes careless in doing it the right way, such as binding the mortal completely to themselves. But that was why they—the Enforcers—were there. To take care of other people’s carelessness.
“All right, then. You just admitted to having her phone number. Therefore, I require you to contact her immediately and tell her to come here. *Now*”
As if materialized out of the darkness, a phone was pressed into Nick’s hand by one of the Enforcers, who suddenly appeared at his shoulder and just slightly behind him. He looked down at the phone in his hand for a few moments and then—as if having already finished with it—turned and handed it back to the one who gave it to him.
“What is the meaning of this?” Arthur inquired angrily.
“The meaning of this,” Nick countered calmly, “is that I am not going to call her or tell her anything. This is between ‘our kind,’ as you may say. There is no need to get the mortals involved.”
Arthur pounded his fist so hard on a nearby table that it cracked. “This _is_ about the mortal. And if you refuse to call her yourself, you will give us her phone number so that _we_ can do it.”
Nick’s voice wavered as he spoke. “I won’t do that either, and I think it’s unnecessary to tell you I haven’t written it down,” he said as he watched Arthur look around the loft in unchecked fury.
Arthur stopped his frenzy and looked at his brother through glowing eyes. So many years, so much time passed, and this one still managed to irritate him. No matter where he went or what he became, it was an unspoken and unfaltering law that Nicholas would be the winner, always one step ahead. With Janette, with LaCroix, with the Huberstein painting, and even now, when he was in such a dire position as a convicted violator of the Code. He simply wanted to reach out and break his victorious neck. <Not this time,> he told himself. Not here and not tonight. He would put an end to this unending chain of defeat and denial and wretchedness once and for all, in the proper legitimate way, the way of the Enforcer.
“You will tell us what we want to know or we will use other methods to obtain it from you.”
Nick looked up; his blue eyes reflected the iridescent light coming from the fireplace like sunlight bouncing off the surface of a lake. They were soft, filled with all possible emotions but fear, even though he knew only too well what Arthur had meant with his last indication. The beautiful eyes flickered for another few seconds before they were cast down.
He knew about those ‘other methods.’ LaCroix had used them with him many times in the past. In all those centuries, whenever he had a secret he didn’t want to share with his master, or something he wanted to protect, like a friend, a possession or something the knowledge of which had to be kept from him, LaCroix would eventually employ his other methods to extract the information. When asking and shouting—and sometimes even beating—wouldn’t work, he simply switched to biting and drawing blood. A cruel practice that Nick loathed, not just because of the access it provided for his sire to his thoughts and feelings—there would be more than one occasion that those were used later on against him—but because the actual act in itself was contemptuous to a person, human or vampire. Throughout the years, as he grew older and more skilled, he managed to develop ways of defending himself by blocking his thoughts against the onslaught on his mind through the blood. But even though it protected his thoughts from being invaded, it was no protection against the assault itself.
He emerged from his rumination to see Arthur standing mere inches in front of him. His face held a deadly expression that didn’t fit with its youthful features. He was all Enforcer now, no trace left of the vulnerability Nick had spotted earlier in the emerald green eyes. He heard the callous voice; sounding like someone was asking another person if they wanted to die.
“For the last time, Nicholas de Brabant, will you tell us the phone number of the mortal woman?”
Nick took in a deep breath and replied. “No!”
Arthur made a sign to the Enforcer standing behind Nick. In a fraction of a second, Nick’s arms were grabbed and twisted behind his back and he was flung to the floor and onto his knees. The Enforcer who held him crouched next to his body, but far enough away to give room to another Enforcer who came to his side, also kneeling behind him and holding his shoulders in a death-like grip. They lingered in that position and waited for their superior to give the next command.
Arthur was now standing over him, his eyes back to their normal green, and remarkably passionless, just like his voice.
“I give you one last chance to give us that information willingly, and I highly suggest you take it. I assure you, it would create an unpleasant situation for all of us if you resist.”
Nick stared up at him from the floor, his jaw stubbornly set. With a wave of his hand, Arthur gave the last order and the Destroyer kneeling behind Nick tightened his grip on his shoulders before he savagely bit into his neck under his left ear, sinking his mammoth fangs deep into the cool flesh.
Nick bit back his yell of pain. He felt all his muscles tense as his blood was forcefully sucked away from him. The fangs that pierced his neck were so deep they had severed a nerve, sending shots of pain through his entire body whenever his assailant moved them. He tried to concentrate on something other than the pain, but his vision was clouding rapidly. Through the red haze that covered everything around, he saw Arthur’s towering figure, leaning slightly forward, watching him with those same heartless green eyes.
//Why do they all love *you?* Why should you be his chosen one without having proven a thing to him? Why doesn’t he throw you out like he did with me two centuries ago?//
The world spiraled around him. As the lethargic nausea that always accompanied being drained started, he began to sense something else coming at him. A mind probing at his brain, searching through the images that rapidly flashed in front of his eyes. He knew it was the Enforcer looking for Natalie’s phone number, the one piece of information they were searching for. Breathing hard to shut out the pain and nausea, he tried to concentrate on hiding that part of his mind from the invader, burying it deep under layers of thoughts, memories and useless data to keep it from them, an ability he had mastered during his years with LaCroix.
He felt the Enforcer stir, his drinking slow as he tried to break through the barriers Nick had erected. Nick’s mind fluctuated with his attempts, and he held on vigorously, fighting the repeated efforts of the other to break through.
At last the Enforcer retreated. Nick felt the fangs withdraw from his neck and heard a voice speaking very close to his left ear. Talking to Arthur.
“He is blocking.” The voice was flat. Not complaining or accusing, just informing, coming from the soulless creature that it was.
Bending down, Arthur grabbed a fist full of Nick’s hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to open his eyes and to look him in the face. He growled.
“Let go if you don’t want to hurt more.”
He was trembling now. He struggled to keep his eyes on his tormentor. His arms were still in the steel grip of the other Enforcer, and the one who had bitten him continued to hold him by the shoulders. He would admit he was grateful for that, because if they let go, he would most likely slump to the floor.
Suddenly, his world exploded in pain as Arthur backhanded him brutally across the face with a force that would break a mortal’s neck. He gasped for air as his nose and mouth filled with blood and some of it started flowing down his chin. Just then, Arthur grabbed his hair again and snapped his head back, making him look in his eyes again.
“We’re going to try this one more time. I don’t want to hear you block anything, you understand?”
He let go of Nick’s head and watched it drop to his chest. With another signal of his hand, the fangs returned to the trembling vampire’s neck, piercing the artery this time, drinking down the flowing blood viciously.
His brain started to float afresh with the prodding presence returning for another assault. He bit down on his lip with the already protruded fangs and squeezed his eyes tightly, focusing hard on separating the parts he wanted to expose and the parts he didn’t. It was getting harder, as with each passing second, more of his precious life-giving blood was being pulled out of him. He felt the Enforcer shake his head rapidly; shredding the wound he had made to get more blood. He knew he was trying hard to read the blood and fought to block him from the part he sought.
Another blow to his face was the answer to his struggle. His breath came in a short gasp and he fought down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. His mind was filled with images now. He could see them as clearly as a slide show: Janette showing him her new dress; LaCroix sitting in a large chair reading a book; the three of them in the woods, hunting; Lord Acheron’s castle; Arthur’s face behind the window… his pain. Yes, that _was_ what he had felt that night. It was the sorrow of a forlorn vampire abandoned by his family and his father, to be cursed into a life that turned him into a monster, an Enforcer, a creature that even his own kind loathed and feared. He took another small breath as he looked at his brother with more concentration, through tear-filled eyes, and was hit once more across the face, with the pain immediately searing through him.
Images of Natalie were starting to surface. He tried to figure where they had come from, but saw them being instantly snatched away by an unseen hand, like a big hungry lizard with a large lapping tongue stealing them as soon as they appeared. He let out a whimper and tried to gain back his focus, but everything seemed to move differently now, and the insistent pain in his head kept him from thinking clearly. He saw Natalie in the morgue putting on her surgical gloves, then the image changed into a picture of her sitting on the couch watching TV. Again, the scene flashed away and another one appeared, this time of her standing in the loft, reaching inside her purse and bringing out a cell phone. Then she punched some keys on it and turned it toward him, speaking to him in a muted voice. The scene came closer, the phone enlarged, its green LCD screen filling up his entire vision, a row of numbers visible on it, coming into focus…
“Nononononononono!”
He screamed as Arthur hit him again and again. A feeling like falling into a bottomless pit overcame him, the world slowly going dark as a ghostly blackness oozed from all directions to cover his view. He tried to fight it, but only managed to sink deeper into it. Finally giving in, his body screamed for relief as he allowed his mind to go blank and the unconsciousness to take him over. He felt his body hit the floor and the last thing he heard was Natalie’s fear-filled cry, calling his name from some place beyond the world, through thunder and storm, through the thousand other voices that had suddenly filled the air. And then someone turned off the lights and shut down the sound system and all of a sudden, he plunged into a dark silence, and sighed.
Arthur was startled by the sound coming from the lift, the clunk of the door closing and then a woman’s loud and piercing shriek. He broke from his taut concentration on the now unconscious Nick to where the sound had came from, and saw the mortal woman he was looking for. She was standing by the door looking with terrified eyes at the prone figure of the blond vampire. An insurmountable joy filled his whole being and he was on his way to leap at her and prevent her escape when all of a sudden he saw her run… toward them. She kept screaming Nick’s name as she fell to her knees next to his lifeless body, and slid her hands around his neck to turn him over and lay his head on her lap. Her face was wet with streaming tears.
“Nick! Oh, Nick, what have they done to you?”
Arthur was stunned by the scene. Nick seemed completely out cold and didn’t respond to the mortal’s caresses and pleas. The woman had taken out a handkerchief and was dabbing at the blood running from his nose and his lips. She kept calling to him, completely oblivious to her surrounding or the dangerous creatures that were present in the room. He didn’t even have to restrain her; she had walked with her own feet into the trap.
“This mortal has clearly shown her awareness of our existence right here and now and therefore must die. I will see to her elimination.” He was looking at the space beyond the dark but was aware when the mortal raised her hate-filled gaze toward him. He looked down. She was beautiful, her round face bathed in trickling tears, her chest jumping from her gasps every once in a while. She was only looking at him, but her eyes said more than her words could ever do, and her hands cradled the golden head in her lap so protectively, it resembled a mother’s embrace of her child.
One of the Destroyers moved. Arthur held up his hand, palm out, commanding him to stop, then reached down and grabbed the mortal by the neck of her shirt, pulling her to her feet and breaking her hold on Nick. She was now hanging by her collar, held like a kitten in his grip. He bent over her throat and touched his lips to her hot skin, he could almost smell her fear, which made the blood flow wild, made it jump at the bite and taste incredibly delicious. He opened his mouth and bared his fangs over the smooth flesh, nearly breaking the skin.
“STOP!”
From the shadows of the back, a young woman emerged, dressed in a ceremonial Native American attire. Her face shone in the firelight as she stepped closer and the medallion she wore around her neck reflected the flames, its symbol clearly that of the High Council’s. Her hair was silky black falling on her shoulders and down her back. A feather hung from one side of it.
Arthur looked up at the authoritative shout that came from the presence in front of him. His eyes returned to their regular human color, but he wrapped one arm around the mortal and held her firm as he addressed the other woman with a courteous nod.
The woman answered his greeting with a nod of her own, then spoke in a voice that sounded deep and wise.
“Arthur of Wales, the mortal woman you are holding now is Doctor Natalie Lambert. She is a medical examiner at Toronto’s coroners’ office. You were right about her knowledge of our secret, but you never mentioned her name. You may not know that Dr. Lambert’s case had been a subject of debate for a while now at the Toronto Council and the decision is still pending. She is a resister, yes, and therefore a danger to the Community, but she also has helped the Community in many ways in the past by covering up mistakes and mess-ups created by those who don’t know the Code. She’s proven to be more useful than dangerous since she has been aware of our existence for a while now, and we haven’t had any problems regarding her knowledge so far. Hence, on behalf of the Toronto Council and as a high member, I suggest you release her and finish the interrogation, now.”
Arthur looked at her for a long time, hesitant, as if he couldn’t believe what she had said. Slowly, his hold loosened on Natalie and she slid onto the floor with no sound. The Enforcer stepped forward and addressed the Native woman in wonderment.
“You mean you knew about this all along, and you never took any active measures? How could that even be possible? Does the High Council of the old world know?”
The cat-like eyes of the woman observed him smoothly. “I told you about the conditions of this case, and need not repeat myself. This is too small a thing to trouble the High Council with. But if it makes you feel better in doing your job, yes, they are informed.”
Arthur seethed, still not believing the change that just had happened. He thought he had finally succeeded, finally cracked the case that had taken him so far from home. His whole travel to the North Americas would have gained a meaning, a sense of usefulness, if he had finished this. It would have meant one more step toward enforcing the Code, one more step to fortify the High Council’s power, a warning from the European elders to these New World greens. And perhaps something even more significant for him, he thought, as he looked at the still figure of Nicholas lying at his feet. It could have been a victory, this time for him, to finally overcome all those caged up feelings that had been eating on him for such a long time. And now, it was all gone.
Noayak—clearly considering the argument as finished—took a step toward Natalie, but stopped before reaching her side and looked up at Arthur with a commanding gaze. Getting her message, and regarding the fact that she was a prominent member of Toronto’s Council, Arthur stepped back and allowed her access to the mortal’s side. He was as calm and obedient as any Enforcer would be in relation to a Council member, but his inside was boiling like vampire blood exposed to the sun. Noayak knelt by Natalie and held her dazed face in her hands, looking her deep in the eyes. Natalie stared for a time before she roughly pulled back, already gaining some awareness.
“No! I don’t want you to erase my memories. I want to remember what happened, to help Nick. He deserves to know all this, after the way you treated him.”
The female vampire shook her head reassuringly as she placed her cool palms once again on the sides of Natalie’s face and said, “Don’t worry Dr. Lambert. I’m not going to wipe out anything from your mind. I believe it’s better for you to remember what was said about your case and the Council tonight. Now close your eyes and try to relax, and I’ll make your pain go away.”
Natalie stared at her with disbelieving eyes for a second before finally closing her eyes and trying to ease her brain. Something cool touched her mind, like fresh, cold water in a hot summer’s day, soothing and comforting the chaos that was tormenting her inside. She felt herself leaning into the touch as the more painful memories of the past two nights slowly unwound and smoothed through the threads of her thoughts. She smiled when the slender hands retreated in the end.
“Take care of him, Dr. Lambert; he has been through a rough trial tonight, which—as you justly said—he has not deserved. Give him our high regards when he awakes.”
Natalie turned to look at Nick, who was still lying on the floor. She moved to his side, cradling his head once again in her arms and stroking his ruffled hair with her hand. Noayak stood and walked up to Arthur. Facing him, she reached inside her dress and pulled out a sealed parchment that she handed to the Enforcer.
“You can go back to Europe, Arthur of Wales. I think your work here is done. These are the final remarks from the Toronto Council to the Council in Europe, together with a confirmation of the closing of this case.”
Arthur bowed his head as he accepted the roll of paper. He watched the young woman walk back to her companions, who had stayed in the shadows through the entire proceeding, and then turned toward his men. With a gesture of his hand, he ordered them to leave and proceeded to follow them. As he was passing by the pair of mortal and vampire huddled on the floor, he stopped and stared at them intensely, an unreadable expression evident in his eyes. Natalie almost expected him to say something when he broke away and left abruptly. She knew she would not forget that look ever in her life, but decided to disregard it for now. Gently, she leaned down over the golden head she was holding in her arms, and placed a tender kiss on Nick’s lips. Her hand stroked the sweaty blond tresses matted on his forehead as she spoke to him affectionately.
“You see how weak I am? I couldn’t find the heart to leave you, not even for one day. I told myself that’s what he wants, that’s what he’s asked you, but I couldn’t. What can I say; I care too much? You know, sometimes I ask myself who the real fool here is. You with your incessant sacrifices to achieve a dream of atonement, or me, the fool who always comes back, always sticks around, even though she knows there would never be anything other than pain and suffering for her in that dream. She always comes back, the fool, and do you know why, Nick? Did you ever ask yourself that question? Why she stays around? Would it surprise you too much if I said that this fool loves you? Loves you more than anyone else in her life? Would you not admit that she’s a fool?”
She bent down to place another kiss on his lips, and smiled when she felt him stir.
The cool night air swept over Toronto, taking the city’s sounds and silences with it. The night was calm and mystic, like a gentle lullaby sung by a gypsy or the embodiment of a magical dream where darkness was punctured by man-made stars. The lights of the downtown high-rises shining from afar blended with the tiny stars that in turn looked pale against the fullness of the moon. Smoke rose from a nearby building lit from below, drifting in the air like the puff of a sleeping dragon. From somewhere down the alley came the sound of someone playing a saxophone, its sad tunes meshed with the city’s usual nightly noises of traffic and roaming salesmen.
He landed on the rooftop, his long coat flapping in the wind. He stared at the city lights before him, at Toronto’s skyline which he was going to leave before long. He could sense the other standing behind him; he didn’t need to turn. Even after so many centuries had passed with the two of them so far apart, the feeling still was something more than just a simple awareness of another’s presence; the feeling was what it had always been, one of a kind.
The other was silent too, most likely waiting for him to utter the first words. And wasn’t that so much like him? Like what he remembered of him, what he had been, how he had stayed in his shattered and lost memories? He could hear the flutter of the other’s coat echoing his own; he, too, was looking at the city, listening to the silent tunes and the sounds of life. The mortals who saw this night would all die some day, their homes would crumble and turn to dust and new buildings would be built on top of them. The city would rejuvenate over and again as time went by; it would never die. Just like the two of them. And perhaps, one night, they would stand in this very spot once again, looking at the reconstructed city with the same old eyes, listening to the same unending tunes of life going on.
At last he decided to speak. He didn’t turn toward the other man; instead he kept his eyes roaming over the city.
“You were here all the time.”
“Yes.” The voice came from behind, like a velvet caress, yet so strong. Oh yes, that had not changed, either.
“Even though you were told to stay out of the city for the length of the investigation?” he continued.
“I do not take orders from anyone. I thought they knew that.”
He looked over his shoulder at the tall figure of the ancient man, watching him out of the corner of his eye. This power, this daunting superiority that emanated from him, had haunted his thoughts for as long as he remembered yearning it.
“You gave your word not to interfere. You do value your own promises, don’t you?”
“I do indeed.”
“Then why did you stay?”
“I did not interfere, did I?”
“You picked up his body from where he had collapsed in the arena on the night of the trial. You carried him to the Raven that night.”
“Was it said that he must perish in the sun after that ludicrous show of yours? Don’t you think it would have ruined the fun you were planning to have by interrogating him yourself?”
At that, he turned to face him. The usual cold face, the eternal smug look, one eyebrow raised in mock amazement, daring the other to challenge his words. He was the statue of intimidation and awe, no matter how much time might pass.
“I can still arrest you for breaking your vow. I can argue to the Council that you interfered with the investigation.”
“Oh, by all means, my dear, try. I am sure your last argument’s remarkable success will certainly endorse you in accomplishing your next one.” A smile formed on his lips, showing his enjoyment of the conversation.
Arthur bit his lip, annoyance palpable in his glassy green eyes. He stared up at his one-time master, to whom he knew he didn’t owe anything now. Their bond had been broken centuries ago on the night he was left behind in the castle of Charente. Yet even now, looking at the ancient—at the man before whom he once would’ve fallen on his knees to gain his acceptance—still carried a sense of mixed emotions, some he could not put into words. A long time had passed, his life changed to a whole new direction. All that was left for him now were the assignments, the High Council and the Code. The empty gap his family had left him with had long been sealed by his vow to those entities, or so he thought. He lowered his eyes, not daring to look at the cold blue gaze in fear of what the ancient might read in them. But the acknowledgment escaped him before he even knew how.
“You still care for him. After so many centuries, you still do.” The green eyes rose to meet the glacier ones.
“Of course,” came the short reply with an assurance that shook him.
“Why?” He didn’t want to ask that, either. He didn’t want to open the old wound. But again, he was not able to stop himself in time.
The answer came in the same sardonic tone. “Why, he is my son. Every father worries when something bad is about to happen to his child, don’t you agree?”
For a single split second, he wished he were somewhere else. The pain of hearing those words was nothing compared to the things he had endured on his way to becoming an Enforcer, but a lot more intense if he had to listen to them while looking at those cold, piercing eyes that were so terribly empty of passion.
He turned and decided to leave.
The weight of a hand pressing down on his shoulder suggested that he wait. The voice was more vibrant this time, as it came from a close distance behind him, albeit the words still stabbing.
“You knew that a long time ago, didn’t you? You can not blame anyone for what happened back then. Not me, and certainly not him. It was all your own doing. You planned a clever scheme, set up all the pieces carefully in place, and were so sure of your win that you didn’t even see it backfire.” A small breath touched the side of his neck and he pulled away swiftly.
The figure behind him stood still, hands dropping to his sides, but even without seeing, he could feel the icy gaze on him. All of a sudden, he realized he didn’t want to talk anymore, didn’t want to dig up the past. It was there where it should’ve stayed, buried deep in earth with constantly revivifying cities built and destroyed on top of it. He looked at LaCroix in detached nonchalance, then turned back to the city to deliver his final words.
“When you brought me across all those centuries ago, at first I thought that it had been an accident, that you never wanted me as a son. Then you fed me and took care of me and I felt glad. As a mortal, no one had ever taken care of me like that. I was a child of nobility, brought up by nurses and servants with a father who spent all his life on battlefields and horses and a mother who couldn’t choose between her many lovers. Then I met you and you showed me fatherly care, tenderness, and when it was required, discipline. And for once, I felt treasured. I was happy during those years, thinking I was your chosen one, your precious son, all until Pericleia died. You do remember that time, don’t you?”
The master’s proud head slightly tilted. He had kept his eyes on the Enforcer during the recitation of a tale he had strangely felt compelled to listen to. But now, he, too, had to look away.
“When she died and you left me, it took me some time to realize what had truly happened. At first, I thought you were angry with me, that somehow I had done something to deserve your hate. I desperately wanted to see you again and ask for your forgiveness. It wasn’t until our second encounter in Obuda, after you told me to stay away from you and Janette and not to ever try to find you again, that I realized the truth. It was the hardest thing I had to accept and somehow I never did.”
“When I heard about Nicholas, my mind went on a frenzy to try and find an excuse for why you had picked him. I simply couldn’t accept you choosing another son; I convinced myself that the same scenario must have been repeating itself. You picked me to keep Pericleia company, then discarded me when she died; now you had Janette and had brought over Nicholas to make _her_ happy. Hearing about the circumstances of his conversion, and Janette’s active part in it, strengthened my theory. I was almost accusing you of being a bore who couldn’t do anything innovative other than repeating himself, until I saw you with them at the castle of Charente.”
“When I saw the way you looked at Nicholas, the love you had for him shining so vividly in your eyes, I felt a fracture of anger and doubt crack through my confidence. The picture of the three of you arriving together, standing together at all the meetings, spending day and night in each other’s company, clearly showed me what my mind so desperately was trying to deny. It was an undeniable truth that everyone else seemed to know about except for me. And they all did talk about it. About how close you were to your newest fledgling, how protective you were of him, how possessive toward your right of ownership over him. They talked about the hours and days you had spent, that you still spent after a hundred plus years, teaching and training him. And how harsh and disciplinary you were towards him. I didn’t want to believe it, took it all as one big misconception, not until after Acheron chose him as the next Enforcer-to-be, and you gave your speech on who your family really was. Then I knew it was the truth.”
He finally turned toward his father, his face a cold mask of indiscernible emotions. The ancient’s mood didn’t seem to have changed a bit during his recital—his face as cold a mask as his own—and he hadn’t expected anything else, either. He wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know; he was just pointing it out. Shooting a glance at the sky, he walked to the other and put hands on his upper arms. LaCroix raised his head and looked him in the eye.
“Take care, Father. I, too, hope our paths never cross again. I understand your abhorrence of me now, since you’re not the only one. I know what I am and how others feel about us. At least when you handed me to the Enforcers, you provided me with a reasonable rationale for why others, including yourself, would hate me. Now, I don’t have to worry about it, and I am strangely grateful for that.”
He dropped his arm and walked to the ledge, a gust of wind catching his long trench coat and winding it around his form. He turned his eternally youthful face toward LaCroix and smiled.
“Goodbye, my friend.”
He was gone in the next blast of the wind, taking his image away in a blur as if it never had been. As the wind stilled, LaCroix found himself standing alone on the rooftop and looking over the deserted streets. The moon was halfway through the sky and was pouring its pale light all around him. Slowly, he turned up his face toward the reflected light of the sun, to where his companion of a few minutes ago seemed to have disappeared, and whispered.
“So we were, and so we shall be.”
In a different part of the city, Natalie was getting ready to go home. She had spent all day taking care of Nick as the wounded vampire finally came to, and had fed him all that he had stocked in his refrigerator. She had made sure he was comfortable on the couch while handing him one bottle after another and recounting what had happened that night after he had lost consciousness. Everything was like the previous day, only this time there was no fear, no undercurrent of threat running through their conversation, just cooling peace as she sat next to him on the couch and massaged his shoulders. They had made jokes and had laughed. Later, as the evening progressed, she had checked his vital signs again to make sure everything was fine. Noting his drawn features, she had suggested that he book the night off and go to bed again to spend the rest of the day and the next night in complete rest until he was ready to join the mayhem of the precinct. His request of her to stay with him a little more was delivered in such a sweet way that she just couldn’t refuse.
It was almost dawn when she groggily got out of his bed, looking at the fast asleep vampire with caring eyes. After so many years, Nick still slept like a child, his features filled with delightful abandonment and simple innocence. She threaded her hands through the golden strands of hair before she tucked him in and grabbed her purse to go back to her apartment and catch some real sleep. She looked at him as she was leaving the room, then walked back to the bed and placed a small kiss on his forehead. She felt a hand close around her wrist just as she turned to leave, causing her to look back at the man lying on the bed. Ocean blue eyes stared up at her from the warm confines of pillows and blankets, his voice soft and sleepy as he said, “Thank you, Natalie, for everything!”
She bent down and kissed him again. “Always, my little devil, always.”
Janette looked at the paling sky while getting ready to go to bed. She liked these early hours of dawn when it wasn’t too bright to be a danger to their kind, yet still bright enough to give everything its natural color. She slipped out of her expensive evening gown, leaving it carelessly on the floor as she revealed her perfect body to her tall dressing mirror. She grabbed the sides of the clip that held her beautiful raven hair in a tangle of curls on top of her head, and opened it in one pull to release a waterfall of dark strands around her shoulders and her face. She distractedly ran her fingers through the tangles and walked to her dressing table to take her sleeping gown out of the drawer, when she was startled by a sound coming from the window. She looked up, staring intently at the space beyond, but her acute vampiric vision didn’t register anyone or anything visible there. She took out the silk lingerie and dropped it absently on the king-size bed as she walked up to the window to observe more carefully. There, on the outside ledge, laid a single red rose together with a card. She opened the window to the coolness of the predawn and picked up the flower and the card. Her heart trembled as she turned the card over and saw a picture of the Hungarian capital on the back. It was a postcard from Budapest with a few hasty words scribbled on the side. She turned the picture and looked at the handwriting intensely.
“Forever ours.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as she turned her eyes toward the rapidly lighting sky, and a smile slowly graced her luscious red lips. She raised her hand and planted a kiss on her palm, then tenderly blew it to the breezy morning air that passed by the window. Pressing her treasures to her breast, she finally closed the window and the shutters and returned to her bed for another day of restful sleep. Only that day, her sleep was filled with dreams of a memory lost a very long time ago, turned into dust by a thousand years of un-life and buried on the shores of the Danube with the remains of a city called Obuda.
THE END
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“Courage, is when fear meets faith”
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