This story is #4 in the "Dance Series", but I think it will stand alone, 
even if you haven't read the others.  The first three are "The Last Dance," 
"Dance with the Devil", and "Dance of the Undead", if you are interested, 
and can be read at my website, www.angelfire.com/wi/CourageKnight.  Thanks!  
Encouragement is greatly appreciated.  This is my first story for this Jadfe 
list.  Oh- Permission granted to archive at the Jadfe website.  Others, 
please inquire and give me the address.


Waltz in the Sky
By Lorelei Sieja
Copyright 1999



Tracy stirred as hunger forced sleep away.  She yawned and stretched, 
feeling the now familiar pressure as her fangs erupted.  Cautiously she 
moved her tongue around them, testing their sharp points.  They had had a 
good workout last night, she thought, as she opened her eyes and admired the 
sleeping vampires beside her.

LaCroix slept in the middle; his tall form stretched out on the fur rug in 
front of the fireplace where dying embers barely put out any heat at all. 
Tracy lay on his right side, curled up on his shoulder, while Nicholas slept 
on his left.  Nick's face was pressed against LaCroix's left breast, his 
expression relaxed and sweet in sleep.  She smiled at her men.  They both 
looked so boyish in slumber, even her two thousand-year-old, overly strict 
Roman General foster father.

She wondered if work would ever be the same.  Nick had always been a little 
protective of her, whether because she was younger, or female, or the 
commissioner's daughter, she didn't know.  But now she was also his little 
sister.  Would he be worse?  Was that even possible?  And besides, now she 
was a vampire, and not as fragile as a professionally trained homicide cop.  
Now she was practically indestructible!

For three days they had remained in this apartment together.  Three whole 
days of music and dancing and vampire sex.  LaCroix had done very little 
teaching.  He had only encouraged her, praised her, and almost envied her, 
as she grew closer to Nick through the blood kiss.  She had felt cherished 
as they both made love to her in mortal and vampire fashion.  But the love 
LaCroix had for Nick was far stronger, more possessive, a love born of 
centuries....  She knew he cared for her, but she was painfully aware of her 
place in the family.  She was the youngest, the second daughter, loved by 
both Nick and LaCroix; she had yet to meet her new sister Janette.  But late 
this morning, when she lay exhausted, sated, and they must have thought she 
was asleep, LaCroix and Nick had come together once more.  Nick had begged 
to him, called out to him, crying in ecstasy, as LaCroix possessed him.

Tracy was losing her mortal perspectives one by one.  She had learned that 
LaCroix, as master, had complete dominion over her.  He could beat her or 
rape her and still be within the laws of her new community.  He was her 
teacher, her protector, her lover, her father.  She felt honored to have him 
for a master.  He was ancient and powerful.  And he had granted her the 
privilege of calling him "dad", something not even his precious Nicholas was 
permitted to do.

Still, thinking of her new "dad" and "brother" also as lovers was strange.  
She looked at Nick again.  He looked so young and angelic in sleep.  It was 
impossible to think of him as 800 years old.  He had such a penchant for 
trouble!  Like some overgrown Denis the Menace, he was always getting shot 
at, attacked, kidnapped, imprisoned... he'd been hit by cars, gangsters, 
insane vampires, and even a mortal coroner.  Being his partner might 
actually put her in more danger than working alone.  Her gaze shifted to her 
new master and caught the slight upcurve of his lips in sleep.  With one arm 
wrapped possessively around his son, he slept on.  They were her boys now.  
They needed her and they didn't even know it.  She was going to be there for 
them.

But she was starving!  Slipping from LaCroix's embrace, she moved to the 
refrigerator and poured herself a mug of her new food.  She warmed it in the 
small microwave as Urs had shown her, and marveled at the immaculate 
kitchen.  It mustn't get much use.  LaCroix being what he was certainly 
didn't entertain mortals very often.

She punched the door of the mic to open at the first beep, but already her 
boys were stirring from their slumber.  She watched, curious how they would 
be today.  LaCroix's arm tightened around Nick, and even in sleep he placed 
a kiss on the top of Nick's wild golden hair.  A seductive smile spread on 
Nick's full lips as he curled deeper into the protective embrace of his 
master.  His arm tightened around his master, then moved upward to stroke 
the soft chest hair.  LaCroix's fangs erupted, curving sensuously over his 
lower lip.  One hand moved to stroked the golden hair.  Still, their eyes 
remained closed, and they barely breathed.  She could sense their thoughts- 
wild, erotic desires, and wondered if they were dreaming....

Tracy felt a warmth spread inside and her fangs itched in a way that the 
blood would not sooth.  She drained her mug quickly. She wanted them to wake 
up now!  She poured two mugs, warmed them, and brought them to her boys.  
Only then did she see their eyes open and the teasing smiles broaden.

"We were wondering how long it would take you to serve us," Nick quipped, 
leaning up on an elbow to accept the mug.

"Indeed," LaCroix responded.  "I was beginning to wonder if we would have to 
continue without you."

Tracy laughed as she realized that their morning seduction had been a ruse.  
"You two!"  Then, in answer to their prank, she took them both, Nick with 
her left hand and LaCroix with the right, and lightly massaged their groins.

Nick groaned.  He was instantly aroused, draining the mug she'd brought him 
in one swallow and leaning back on his elbows as he moved in her grasp.  
LaCroix was more controlled in his response.  He lay down and folded his 
arms behind his head to watch his new daughter seduce him.

Tracy admired them as they swelled to their full potential, but felt a 
moment of fear at maybe being in over her head.  She was not only new to 
vampire culture, but also to men in general.  Would she be able to please 
both of them, when in her very limited experience, they were such 
passionate, virile beings?

Nick would not be a problem, as he was very near to exploding all ready.  
Keeping her right hand on LaCroix, she took Nick in her mouth and sucked 
lightly.  She let the tips of her fangs scrape his shaft but did not hurt 
him.  He arched his back, groaning almost painfully, as he pushed deeper 
into her throat.

Tracy knew he would need to bite to release, and wondered for a moment how 
to accommodate him without letting go of LaCroix, until Nick twisted to 
plunge his teeth into his master's shoulder.  Immediately his seed burst 
forth, sweet as honey and wine, filling her mouth. She gulped greedily, even 
as it dribbled down her chin.

With Nick sucking his blood and Tracy massaging his groin, LaCroix came to 
full erection, too.  He closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing his children 
to serve him.  He drew in a deep breath to savor the moment.

Nick withdrew his fangs and backed away, as Tracy moved to mouth his master, 
sucking, tasting, pleasing.  Even as he watched, he felt arousal again.  
Tracy was inexperienced, but willing and eager to try.  Her enthusiasm was 
exciting.  And the sense of danger, that she was an vampire infant and not 
in full control of her own strength, added to the erotic moment.

Tracy sucked harder.  She was on her knees, her face down in LaCroix's 
groin, her ass raised.  Nick could smell her arousal, and knew she was 
thoroughly enjoying herself, but she was not going to find her own release.  
Kneeling, he came up behind her and rubbed against her.  She wiggled her 
hips against him and sighed, even as she increased the pressure she worked 
on LaCroix.

Nick buried himself in her tight inner sanctum.  She gasped.  Nick held 
still for moments, slowing down, holding back, not wanting to race through 
the moment.  He was only slightly fortified by the small mug of blood and 
his recent release.  Tracy ground her hips against him, demanding.  He began 
a slow rhythm, pumping into her snugly, withdrawing entirely, only to pummel 
her again.

LaCroix groaned.  The sweet torture was bringing him right to the edge and 
holding him there.  It had been a wonderful start to the day, but now it was 
time for completion.  He shifted, rising up on his knees.  Tracy kept him 
firmly in her mouth, so he leaned over her crouched form to embrace his son. 
  They buried their teeth in one another's throats.  The blood circle was 
complete.  LaCroix flowed into both Nicholas and Tracy; Nick poured his 
blood seed into Tracy even as his blood filled LaCroix.  Tracy gulped down 
LaCroix's blood seed, not tasting Nick but still sensing his essence inside 
her.  In a united, gigantic moment, they each reached their climax and clung 
to one another as le petit morte crested and passed.

In silent awe they drew apart.  Tracy smiled shyly up at LaCroix.  Nick just 
smiled.

"My children.  I think it is time for a bath," LaCroix suggested tenderly.



Shortly, they gathered around the kitchen table.  Tracy refilled their 
glasses, wondering with amusement if this was going to be solely her task 
now.  When she joined them again, LaCroix smiled at her.

"You will test your wings tonight, my daughter.  I will permit you to return 
to work with Nicholas, under certain conditions."

She sipped, letting the mortal blood nourish her.  It was fantastic, like 
fresh pizza or juicy stake and fine champagne and smooth chocolates, all in 
one.  It was the best food she had ever tasted, yet even so, it was nothing 
compared to drinking from her master.

"What conditions," Nick asked, when she remained silent.

"Just what common sense would dictate," LaCroix began.  "If she shows any 
signs of weariness, bring her home.  Tracy, you will spend five days a week 
here, and I will continue your training before and after sleep.  You may 
have two days off, which you will spend in the company of either Nicholas or 
Vachon.  You are strictly forbidden to be alone until I say otherwise."

He paused, allowing the firm tone of his voice and chilling glare of golden 
eyes to tell her just how important this rule was.  She looked surprised, 
but not indignant.  This was good.

"You are too young, my dear," he continued, graciously explaining his 
command.  "Infant vampires are never left alone.  Nicholas was not out of my 
sight once for a full year.  Even after that I was never far away.  You do 
not know your own strength.  You are a danger to the mortals you associate 
with, and you are in danger from all other vampires.  Do you understand?  
This rule is imperative that you obey."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders and nodded at him, recalling just how 
thoroughly he enforced his rules.  Her biological father had never spanked 
her, no matter how much she had deserved it.  He would sigh, and tell her 
how disappointed he was with her, and threaten her, but in the end, he never 
did a thing.  Being a parent required more effort that he was willing to 
expend.  She had grown up feeling like a burden, but never feeling loved.  
LaCroix, however, had spanked her rather soundly before soothing away her 
pain with his blood.

"Anything else?" she asked, hoping the rules wouldn't be so numerous and 
confusing that she would have trouble remembering them.

LaCroix grew distant as past memories stirred.  What else must he tell this 
child before letting her venture forth?   He felt uneasy with letting her 
return to the mortal world so soon.  Turning towards Nicholas, with a 
piercing gaze, he spoke again in firm, chilling tones.  "I am entrusting you 
with her care.  Do not disappoint me."

Nick sat up straighter, his chin lifted just ever so slightly- whether in 
defiance or indignation, Tracy wasn't sure.  "I can handle it," he promised. 
  Then, it was time to go.




Tracy felt very strange as she kissed LaCroix lightly before going out.  
Except for that one night when she had defied him and slipped out the 
bathroom window for some fun, which had nearly ended her new existence, 
Tracy had been inside LaCroix's apartment for over two weeks.  Now the night 
seemed so much more alive!

The noises were constant.  She could hear dozens of different conversations, 
all the traffic sounds for a radius of about six blocks, even the squeak and 
patter of rats, which she would rather have not detected.

"Just relax," Nick whispered into her ear.  "Block out the extra stimuli by 
concentrating only on the immediate."

Tracy closed her eyes, following the gentle suggestion.  The rats were gone, 
as were many of the street noises.

"Better?"

She smiled and nodded.  "Thanks."  Her partner grinned boyishly, and 
escorted her to his waiting caddy.  He even opened the door for her.
Tracy slid in, but as he joined her on the front seat she chided him 
lightly.  "You'd better quit treating me like that."
He looked startled.  "Like what?"

"Like I'm going to break!  If you open any more car doors for me, the whole 
precinct is going to know we've been "doing it".  I'd just as soon keep that 
new twist in our partnership private, if you don't mind."

He grinned.  "Got it."

Nick started telling her about his two shifts he made with Detective 
Roberts, and the kids he'd met- Logan, Pony, Digger, Rock.  He kept up the 
light conversation all the way to the precinct.  Tracy tried to concentrate, 
but her stomach was all fluttery.  She had made some major changes in her 
life, and she couldn't tell anybody!  But surely they would suspect.  Didn't 
she look different?  Although her complexion was normally very fair, she was 
deathly white now.  She'd tried putting on a little blush to cover that 
fact, but she thought she still looked peeked.  Well, she was supposedly out 
sick for a week with the flu.  If she still looked under the weather, 
perhaps it would make her story more believable.

The caddy stopped and Nick switched off the engine.  Tracy's heart beat 
twice in quick succession.

"Relax, kid," Nick teased her.  "You'll do fine."

"Why are we here?" she asked, recognizing the city coroner's building.

"Nat's orders," Nick sighed.  "She says I can't show up at work completely 
healed."

Tracy laughed.  "So she's going to put make-up on you, Nick!  Aren't you 
lucky it's not raining!"

Nick groaned.  "Just shut-up and come with me, Button."


Nat pulled her desk chair out and pushed Nick into it.  "Which cheek was 
sliced?" she asked.

Nick shrugged.  He had a near perfect memory, but trivia like that didn't 
seem important.

"You are impossible, you know that?  I don't know how you ever managed 
before without me to help you cover up."  She continued to scold him 
lightly, her tone growing more teasing, as she stained two Band-Aids with 
iodine and taped them over one cheek, then shaded one eye to look black and 
blue.  Tracy teased him about the make-up, too, and told him what a great 
new look it was.

"That's it, that's enough," Nick said, jumping to his feet.  "Nat, I'll see 
you later."


The lights of the precinct seemed too bright.  Tracy squinted, and suddenly 
the sunglasses she'd often seen Nick wear made more sense.  And the scents 
overwhelmed her.  Officer Schultz passed them, the young dispatcher.

"She smells like chocolate," Tracy whispered sotto voce.

Nick grinned.  "I know.  And Reese smells like banana crème pie."

Tracy giggled.  "No!  Really?" she whispered, so that only a vampire could 
hear.  "Somehow I just can't picture him as a crème pie.  How do you manage 
to look at him seriously, when he smells like a crème pie?"

Both of them burst out laughing just as they entered the bullpen.  Every eye 
there looked up to stare at them.  They'd both had a week of vacation, 
followed by taking the same sick days.  Although Reese had sent Nick home, 
thinking he'd been beaten pretty severely by Bunati, the rumors that ran the 
police force were laying bets that they'd shared a sick bed together.  Now, 
as Nick returned, obviously sharing a private joke with his junior partner, 
the rumor mills had enough grist to keep going indefinitely.

They leaned in to Reese's office first to say hello.  The captain gestured 
them inside.  Tracy took a seat, giggling again as the scent of the 
captain's blood assailed her.  "Banana crème, all right," she whispered to 
Nick.  Nick laughed aloud, before he was able to stop himself.  He scowled 
at Tracy, but they both grinned.  When Reese cleared his throat, Nick put on 
a straight face and concentrated more on his captain.

"Glad to see you're both back and feeling better," Reese said, an odd 
inflection in his voice.

"Thanks, Captain," Nick said sincerely.  "You're looking better yourself."

"Tracy," Reese began, "That was some flu you had. Are you sure you're ready 
to return to work now?"

"Ah, yes, Captain.  I still tire easily, but I'm sure I'm ready."

"Mind telling me where you've been?  I've called your apartment repeatedly, 
and only got your machine.  Your dad's been worried about you."

Tracy was momentarily confused, until she realized that Reese meant her 
birth father.  Strange, she no longer thought of him as "dad".  "Um, I 
wasn't home, captain.  I was really sick, and I went to a friend's house, 
where I had some help."

"And you couldn't call your father or check your answering machine for a 
whole week?  Tracy, that doesn't sound like you."

She shrugged.  What could she say?  Of course it didn't sound like her, 
because she wasn't herself these days.

"Perhaps you should give us this friend's number.  The next time you decide 
to run off we'll know how to get a hold of you if we need to."
Nick gave him the number without even thinking.  Reese wrote it down, then 
scowled.  Looking at an open file on his desk, he pried his detectives a 
little more with a worried tone in his voice.  "That's your father's number, 
Nick."

Nick blanched, as he realized his mistake.  He didn't know how to answer 
now.

"Yes," Tracy said.  She could see the suspicion on Reese's face, and knew he 
would have heard the rumors concerning her and Nick.  "It's not what you're 
thinking.  I really was in need of care.  LaCroix's been very caring and 
supportive.  He's been more like a father to me than my own."

Reese looked at his two favorite detectives.  He'd been a cop long enough 
that he knew a snow job when he saw one.  They were snowballing a big one.  
The question is, why?  What were they trying to cover?  He had met Nick's 
new girlfriend, Urs.  He wouldn't need to play around with his partner, when 
a dish like that was waiting for him at the end of his shift!  He didn't 
think that was it.  But something was definitely different between these 
two.  They seemed much closer.

"Tracy, be careful," he warned.  "I've met LaCroix, and my gut instinct 
tells me he's a dangerous man.  Nick, have you been honest with her about 
your relationship with him?"  He glared at Nick.  His foster father had 
admitted to abusing him, to even drawing blood in his fury.  Reese wasn't 
sure what he could do for Nick.  He wasn't really a child anymore, so why 
did he still suffer at the hands of an abusive parent?

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair and considered whether he should 
wipe the last ten minutes of Reese's memory away, but eventually, if he 
learned that Tracy was staying at LaCroix's apartment, he might regain these 
memories and also the knowledge that Nick had taken them in the first place. 
  No, maybe it was better that Reese knew.

"Captain, I am fine.  Tracy is fine.  We are not a couple, and we would 
really like to get back to work."

Reese looked him in the eye, then gave Tracy the same deep inspection.  They 
were telling the truth, what little they told.  He nodded.

"Welcome back," he said.


End, part 1.

Waltz in the Sky, 02/14

It continued to be Tracy's favorite game to identify each person in the 
precinct by the scent of his blood.  Each attempt made her giggle.  Nick was 
enjoying the private game as well, although all that talk of blood was 
making him hungry, even though he'd fed well before arriving.

"Tracy, give it up," he begged, flashing her a toothy grin before once again 
concealing the vampire.

Tracy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle.  She could 
hear the muffled suspicious conversations, and knew the bets were placed 
concerning her and Nick.  "I think maybe Vachon and Urs should both come to 
meet us after work," she whispered.

"I agree," Nick answered, "but not tonight.  You won't be able to stay the 
whole shift, I'm sure."

A while later a call came in.  A body had washed up on the beach.  Nick 
reminded Tracy to grab her coat and together they left, almost eager to get 
away from their desks.  Nick glanced at Tracy with concern.  She'd always 
had a difficult time with the sights and smells of death before, and now her 
senses were greatly enhanced.

"Perhaps you should drink something," he cautioned her, as he turned the 
radio down low.  Now that Tracy's hearing was as sharp as his, the volume 
would never be painfully loud again, he thought, relieved.

"Nick, I'm fine.  Really."  She sounded irritated.

"Tracy," he said again, and waited for her sigh to subside.  "Then open it 
and pass it to me.  All that talk about how delicious everyone smells has 
really whet my appetite."

She reached under the front seat for the private label LaCroix had sent with 
her tonight.  She let her fangs drop so she could pull out the cork.  At 
once the heady aroma stirred her with an acute sensation, almost like pain, 
and her stomach rumbled.  She put the bottle to her lips and chugged half 
its contents instantly.  Then she passed it to her partner with a sheepish 
grin.

"Umm.  Maybe I was just a little hungry," she stammered.

Nick smiled.  "It's okay, Tracy.  But don't ever go to a scene hungry.  
Understand?"

She nodded.  She'd been so sheltered ever since the big change that she 
really didn't know how she would react.  It was a little scary and 
exhilarating all at once.  She stuffed her worries away by concentrating 
only on Nick.

He drank all that was left in the bottle.  Although it wouldn't spoil, as 
each bottle of mortal blood was processed with a few drops of vampire to 
preserve it, it would lose all its mortal essence, the very thing that made 
it so sensual.  It was about like warm beer or flat champagne-- not really 
worth consuming.

Nick's gaze was on the road tonight, not some distant century.  He looked 
contented.  Until a few weeks ago, she'd never really been attracted to him. 
  He'd been so stuffily righteous all the time, like a boring do-gooder.  
She had compared what she thought she knew about her "mortal" partner with 
her irresponsible vampire boyfriend, and Nick had not fared well.  It had 
been nothing short of earth-shattering to learn that Nick was also a 
vampire.  Then she saw beneath the tightly controlled exterior that he built 
to insulate him in the mortal company he kept, to discover the real Nick 
Knight, 800 year old Crusader.  Now every time she looked at him she wanted 
him.

It embarrassed her.  Two weeks ago she had still been a virgin.  Now 
enjoying any one of the three vampire men in her life was all she seemed to 
think about.  They were each fantastic and unique.

Vachon was tender.  He was youthful, irrepressible, sensual.  He was sonnets 
and serenades, violins and romance.  His gentle hands were expressive, and 
they played over her body with the skill of an accomplished musician.

LaCroix was power.  He was hurricanes and tidal waves.  She felt overwhelmed 
in his presence, and their lovemaking was incredible.  With him she felt 
cherished and protected.

Then there was Nick.  He was such a contradiction, but of the three, he was 
the most passionate.  He was moody; he could go from anger to desire in 
moments, and leave her swirling dizzily in his wake.  He was Romeo and 
D'Artagnon and Zorro all rolled in one, with just a bit of Dracula for 
spice.

"Tracy, stop that," Nick said hoarsely.

She snapped out of her reverie and nervously wondered if he'd guessed what 
she was thinking.  She felt too warm and moist all over.  She tried to cover 
her discomfort with an innocent grin.  "Stop what?"
Nick turned to her, his eyes were red and his fangs fully pointed.  "You," 
he said.  "Are drooling, and there is no blood left in the bottle."

Suddenly her fangs descended as well.  She wanted him now, immediately, and 
slid closer to him on the seat.

Nick cranked the steering wheel to park in an alley.  He killed the lights 
and the engine, just as Tracy threw her arms around his neck and pulled him 
close.  There was no time for finesse now.  They didn't even bother to pull 
at their clothing.  Fangs sank into naked throats and they drank.  Desire 
built and further aroused each other through the blood kiss.  Fast they 
climbed the road to completion, and their orgasm was no less sweet for the 
shortness of the trip.  Moments later Tracy was quivering in his embrace 
until the moment had passed.

"Thanks, Nick," she whispered in his ear, attempting to dispel her 
embarrassment at losing control on the job.

"That's what brothers are for," he answered lightly.  "Now, perhaps we 
should show up at the crime scene, Button?"

Tracy punched his arm as she straightened and returned to her side of the 
seat.  "I really hate that nickname.  Can't you think of something better to 
call me?"

"Nope."


"Follow the yellow-tape-road," Tracy quipped as they neared the lake.  That, 
plus the flashing lights of the police cars and the coroner's van, were sure 
indicators of where they needed to be.

"Tracy," Nick began.  She could hear the warning in his voice, and she 
wasn't sure if it pleased or annoyed her.  He was so damned overprotective.

"It will be different now.  Drowning victims are among the easiest for us to 
face.  They don't smell good, so they are less likely to stir your hunger.  
But, you see, smell, and sense everything much clearer than before.  If 
anything happens, I want you to get back in the caddy and lock the doors.  
I'll come and take you home as quickly as I can."

"Yes, mother," she sighed.

Nick glared at her, but then he shrugged and let it pass.

They both spotted Natalie at the same time and set off to join her.  There 
weren't many people gathered around; it was a bit cold for the usual 
passers-by to be down there.  A wintry wind blew in off the lake, chilling 
the mortals and driving many away.  Natalie glanced up at them as they came 
near, but her look was guarded and unfriendly.

"Okay, people, carry him away," she said to her assistants.

"Shouldn't we look at him first," Tracy asked.

Natalie's eyes narrowed at Tracy, and she distinctly felt the woman's 
disapproval.  Still, Natalie moved aside to let Tracy see.

It had been a man.  Now cold in death, he looked faintly disgusting, yet 
even in the dark Tracy could tell that his hair was blonde.  He was a big 
man, over six feet, broad and solidly built, like a linebacker.  There was 
only one small injury, a slashed wound in the side of the neck at the 
jugular.  Tracy shrugged and looked at her partner.

Nick glanced from the body to Natalie and gave her a wide-eyed look of 
innocence.  Natalie brushed the dirt from her coat and walked away from the 
body, while her assistants bagged him to deliver him to the county morgue.  
Nick walked with her.

"What is it, Nat?" he asked.

She glared at him.  "Don't you know?  Doesn't Tracy?"

He shook his head.  "Know what?"

"It's a vampire kill," she said, dropping her voice too softly for mortal 
hearing.  "I thought maybe it was Tracy's, that LaCroix had been teaching 
her to hunt."

Tracy giggled.  Nick shot her a warning look, but she couldn't seem to stop 
herself.  Teaching her to hunt would be a good step in giving her 
independence, something she was certain the ancient had no intention of 
teaching her for a few centuries.

"No, Natalie," Nick said.  "Tracy hasn't learned to hunt, and if she does, 
you will never find the body.  LaCroix is much too discrete for that."

"So, what do you want me to do, Nick?"

He hated to ask her to lie, knowing how much it offended her, but it was the 
only option and she knew it.  If she revealed it as a vampire's kill, she 
and everyone she told would disappear, courtesy of the Enforcers.  He put a 
comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I will find the careless culprit, Nat, and see that it doesn't happen 
again," he promised.

She patted his hand where it rested on her.  "Thanks, Nick.  I know you 
will.  I'm sorry for being crabby.  It's just been a while since I've seen 
you, and I guess I'm feeling ignored."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

His voice had become all soft and soothing, tender and inviting.  Did he 
know how much that drove her crazy?  She stepped back from him before she 
could lose control and fling herself into his arms.

"I'm almost done babysitting," Nick said, with a glance at his partner.  "Do 
you want to come by tonight and watch a video?  Or just talk?"

"What about Urs," Nat asked, hoping she didn't sound as jealous as she felt.

"What about Urs," Nick replied.  "She's not there now.  I don't think she's 
coming back until tomorrow."

Nat hesitated.  They had to move beyond this.  Nick was her best friend.  It 
wasn't anyone's fault that they could never be anything more.  She hadn't 
succeeded in curing him, in making him mortal, and she wasn't ready to 
become a vampire.  "I'd like that," she said finally.  "It's my turn to 
chose the movie."

Nick laughed.  "Okay.  Just no more giant apes or giant lizards."

"Deal."


Tracy was waiting for him inside the caddy.  Nick turned the key to unlock 
his door and slid behind the wheel.  She leaned against her door, her eyes 
closed, her blood slow and soothing as she was nearly asleep.

"Hi, Button," he said.  "Time to go home."

"Hm.  'Kay."

He drove thoughtfully through the dimly lit streets of Toronto, his master's 
voice spilling out of the radio in his usual esoteric nonsense.  He didn't 
know what LaCroix was talking about tonight; the content of his message was 
couched in mystery.  Nick didn't even try to figure him out but just enjoyed 
the familiar velvety voice.  Father, sister, lover, family.  For now, he 
felt like he had it all.  Nick was happy.  It was a wonderful feeling.

At the Raven he lifted Tracy, who was sound asleep by now, and flew into the 
apartment through the skylight.  LaCroix opened her bedroom door and pulled 
down the quilt while Nick laid her on the bed.  Together, they tucked her in 
and left the room in silence.
LaCroix poured himself a drink and offered one to Nick.

"No, thanks," he said.  "I can't stay.  But, we found a vampire kill 
tonight.  The body washed up on the beach, and it was pretty sloppy.  Nat 
thought it was Tracy's."

LaCroix snorted contemptuously.

"I assured her that it couldn't be," Nick said quickly.  "But, I just 
wondered if you knew of any new vampires in town."

"I assure you, Nicholas, that I associate with neither the stupid nor the 
ignorant."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  But if you hear anything, will you let me know?"
LaCroix nodded almost imperceptibly.  Nick was strangely reluctant to leave. 
  If he didn't go immediately, he knew he would not go at all.  Besides, 
Natalie would be really ticked if she waited for him at the loft while he 
stayed to play with his master.  Abruptly he turned and left.





Tracy awoke, somewhat disoriented, and emerged from her bedroom.  She was 
home again.  Home.  In such a short time it felt more like home than the 
place she had spent her childhood, or even more than her own apartment, 
which was really just a bed and breakfast.  She sensed the presence of the 
ancient vampire and went to him.

It was still dark outside.  She glanced at her watch and felt a twinge of 
guilt.  Nick would still be at work, doing their shift alone.

"You require more sleep," LaCroix stated, sensing her guilt.  "Nicholas 
knows that.  So tell me, how did your first night among mortals go?"

Tracy described for him her game and how she would always think of banana 
crème pie now whenever she saw her captain.  She told how Nick's 
uncharacteristic laughter was spicing up the bullpen rumors.  LaCroix seemed 
to enjoy her story.  She knew Nick wasn't much for sharing and sensed 
LaCroix sometimes felt a little left out of the loop.  So, she strung the 
story along, adding details, and found LaCroix to be an attentive listener.

"You've done well, my daughter," he said.  "Now, we will have a lesson, and 
then you may return to bed."






Nick went down in to the Raven before returning to the precinct.  If there 
were a new vampire in Toronto, eventual he or she would find the way here.  
He didn't want to alert the general populace and perhaps spook away the 
culprit before he had a chance to educate him.  Patrick and Vachon were 
probably the only two he could trust.  He made his way to the bar.

"Ev'ning, Boss Jr.," Patrick said with a friendly grin.  "Can I get you 
something?"

Nick was all set to refuse as customary, but suddenly he wanted it. He 
wanted more, and it had to be human.  He nodded at the young bartender, 
afraid to voice the words aloud as his control had disappeared all together.

Patrick said nothing if he noticed.  He took a wineglass from below the 
shelf and filled it with LaCroix's favorite blend, then set it before him.  
Nick took the glass greedily and drank half the contents before he felt he 
could speak again.  Maybe it was Tracy's fault?  Maybe, through sharing her 
blood, he was re-experiencing vampirism threw her newborn eyes?

"Anyone new in town?" Nick asked.

Patrick shrugged.  "Looking for someone?"

Nick took another sip, pleased that his control was returning.  It was an 
excellent blend, pure and uncut with wine, which would have been difficult 
to explain while on duty.  "Someone was careless.  The police found a body; 
the neck wounds were poorly concealed, and the body is too fresh."

Patrick shuddered.  Such blatant carelessness was unforgivable among his 
kind.  He was grateful that his position here as bartender meant he never 
had to get that hungry. "Can't say I've met anyone new, who's both young and 
foolish.  There are two new vampires that just came by last night, though.  
Mind if I talk to them, before I tell you their names?"

Nick thought for a moment.  If Patrick was hesitant to be forthcoming with 
him, then the new vampires were probably elders.  Older than Patrick, 
anyway, and possibly even older than Nick.  They weren't likely to be 
responsible for the kill.  Still, Nick didn't like being in the dark.  Then 
he nodded.

"If they agree, you can meet them here tomorrow night," Patrick said.

"That will be fine.  I'll be here a little after 1 AM, when I bring Tracy 
home."  Nick tossed down the remainder of his beverage then and left.  He 
would talk to Vachon later, if Patrick's lead didn't pan out.


Tracy's lesson was very short.  LaCroix smiled at her indulgently.  "Rest 
well, little one.  I shall see you later."

She waved a weary hand in his direction and crawled back into bed without 
even stopping to undress.  She had thought they were both just being 
overprotective in not letting her go back to work before.  Now, she wondered 
how she would ever make it to the end of the week.  Before she could worry 
another moment, she was quite literally dead to the world.

Hours later, though, she awoke.  The sun was still high.  She knew that 
instinctively, even though no light slipped through the steel shutters.  
Tracy listened, extending her new abilities.  LaCroix was sleeping and no 
one else was here.  She wondered idly what had happened to Vachon, but 
perhaps LaCroix had told him how tired she had been.

Hunger drove her to the refrigerator and moments later she curled into the 
corner of LaCroix's couch to sip the soothing liquid.  She thought back on 
last night.  Making out with Nick in the caddy had been an unexpected 
pleasure.  Maybe being his partner now would have a few added bonuses?

Captain Crème Pie came to mind then, and she covered her mouth lest her 
giggling wake LaCroix.  Then she remembered how Reese had scolded her, and 
told her that her other dad had been worried about her.  Picking up 
LaCroix's phone, she dialed her number and accessed the messages on the 
machine.

There were a lot of them.  So many, that it had run out of tape.  Her dad 
had called six times, each message getting angrier and angrier.  He demanded 
that she contact him or he would put out an APB on her and have her hauled 
in to his office in handcuffs.  She sighed.  Dreading the confrontation, she 
placed the call.

She recognized his secretary's voice answer on the other end.  "Um, hi, Deb. 
  This is Tracy."

She had to pull the receiver away from her ear then, as Deb had always had a 
rather loud voice.  Now it was painful.  She rambled on excitedly, telling 
Tracy just how ticked the Commissioner was, and she'd put him on right away. 
  Tracy wished now she could just hang up.  She didn't really feel like 
talking to him, which really meant listening to him.

Strange, but he didn't seem like her dad anymore.

Then his voice filled the earpiece, several decibels louder than Deb had 
been.  He demanded to know where she'd been, and why she didn't call, and 
who was she with.

Tracy smiled.  He used to intimidate her, but now she knew that it was all 
just empty threats.  She made insolent faces and silently mocked him while 
he continued his tirade.

"Tracy.  I want to see you today.  Either you come here, or I'll embarrass 
you by stopping at the precinct tonight!"

"Dad, no!  You can't do that," she gasped.

"Just watch me.  Now when can I expect you?"

"Um-" Tracy thought hard.  When could she go?  LaCroix and Nick would not 
let her out of their sight.  She didn't really want to see him, but maybe if 
she did, she could kind of reassure him and get him off her case.  Maybe, it 
would be like saying good-bye?  If Nick left her alone at all, she could 
slip out and be back, without him even knowing about it.  Or maybe, if she 
asked him, he would take her?

"You know I work nights, dad.  I'll stop by the house around 10pm.  If I'm 
late, just wait there.  I'll be by."

He fumed a while longer.  Tracy interrupted him, yawning into the 
mouthpiece, and telling him she really had to get to bed.  Then she hung up 
the phone.

"And what do you think you are doing, Tracy!"

She jumped, startled by the chilling sound of LaCroix's voice.  "I'm sorry.  
I didn't mean to wake you.  I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."

Her vampire father stepped into the room and stood before her now, his arms 
folded across his chest and his expression firm.  "What were you doing," he 
repeated.

She thought fast.  Had she done anything he'd forbidden her?  No.  She was 
certain he'd not told her she couldn't use the phone.  "I checked my 
answering machine," she said quickly, looking up at the wall of fire before 
her.  "Then I called my dad, because he was worried about me."

"He is not your "dad" any longer," LaCroix stated.

"Well, he thinks he is," she blurted, wishing again that she could learn to 
button her lip.  That was how she had got that stupid nickname in the first 
place.  Her high-school friends were always telling her to "button it".  "I 
can't just disappear.  He'll have half of Ontario out looking for me."

LaCroix pulled her to her feet and glared at her, his firm grip hurting her 
arms.  "I am your parent now.  You must break all your mortal ties.  You 
will not contact this man again."

Tracy trembled.  Her father could be rather impossible.  It would be 
difficult to break her ties with him instantly, but she didn't dare defy 
LaCroix while he was standing right in front of her.  She nodded weakly, 
afraid to open her mouth.

LaCroix released her then and buried his fury beneath a cool exterior.  "Let 
us both return to sleep, then," he said.

Tracy wandered into her room and crawled back under the covers.  Maybe she 
was just a little tired.  How to handle her dad and LaCroix and working and 
adjusting to the changes in her life could all be settled later.

End, Part 2.


A Waltz in the Sky, 03/14
By Lorelei Sieja

Natalie's visit had been a lot of fun, Nick thought as he dressed for work.  
Keeping to the theme she'd started several movies ago, she'd selected one 
about a giant baby stomping through the streets of Reno.  Nick had laughed 
so hard, and Natalie had laughed with him.  Unlike King Kong, this movie was 
intended to be funny.  He didn't remember her leaving though.  When he 
awoke, he discovered that he'd slept on the couch, and she had tossed a 
quilt over him.  He must have fallen asleep while the movie rewound.  He 
hoped she wasn't mad at him.  Babysitting Tracy was wearing him out.  Maybe 
he'd have to make sure he fed a lot better until she was older.

Nick climbed the stairs to LaCroix's apartment wondering why Tracy couldn't 
manage to be ready when she'd said she would be.  Whatever.  He smiled at 
LaCroix.  The ancient seemed distracted.  "Is there something wrong?" he 
asked.

"No.  Nothing, Nicholas," LaCroix answered in a way that made Nick even more 
suspicious.  Well, maybe Tracy was still giving him headaches.  He turned to 
hide the grin at his master's expense.

Tracy emerged from her room muttering something under her breath.  "I can't 
wear pierced earrings anymore!  You never warned me about that.  I have tons 
of earrings.  What am I going to do with them now?"

LaCroix leaned over her, his breath whispered lightly over her neck raising 
the sensitive hair and bringing a shudder up her spine.  "It would be a 
shame to conceal such perfect ears behind cheap baubles, my dear."

Tracy wasn't amused.  She must have slept on the wrong side of her bed.  
Nick tried to hide his smirk, but not before she'd seen it.

"And you!  You will stop babying me!  I am a detective, Knight.  I know how 
to do my job!"

Nick looked startled.  Had they had an argument last night?  Not that he 
could remember.  "I have no idea what she's talking about," he told their 
master.

"Nick is too damn bossy, LaCrox.  Tell him to knock it off!"

LaCroix filled three glasses and held out two to his children.  Nick shook 
his head but LaCroix insisted.  "We will have a chat before either of you 
may leave," he said firmly.

Tracy took hers and plopped on the couch.  Nick decided it was safer to take 
the chair than sit anywhere near her.  LaCroix remained standing as he 
regarded them both.

"Tracy.  Tell me, about what exactly are you upset with Nicholas."  
LaCroix's tone was firm but patient.

Tracy gulped her beverage and tried to calm the strong emotions, unsure what 
they were really all about.  "I'm sorry I'm crabby tonight," she apologized. 
  "Last night went fine, mostly.  Only, Nick was always a little 
over-protective before.  Now it is definitely worse.  It's like he doesn't 
think I'm capable of doing my job."

LaCroix eyed his son.  Nicholas could be rather obstinate.  It was probably 
that overactive knight-crusader ethic of his again.  Then again, Tracy was 
stubborn and strong-willed.  He could not undermine Nicholas's authority and 
still expect him to protect her.

"Tracy, in police matters, you may argue with Nicholas to your heart's 
content-"

"LaCroix!" Nick interrupted.

The master held up a hand to silence him.  "Would it not further arouse 
suspicions if she suddenly became compliant in all things, Nicholas?"

Nick nodded reluctantly.

"However," he said, turning to Tracy with a stern expression.  "In all 
matters pertaining to your existence as a vampire, you will obey Nicholas as 
you would me.  Is that clear?"

She started to object, but saw that as far as he was concerned, the 
conversation was over.  "Yes, sir," she replied.

"I suspect that she is not getting enough rest," LaCroix said as he held her 
coat for her.  "Return her earlier tonight."


Nick shrugged.  If Tracy stayed this crabby, she'd be home in an hour.




"So, partner," Tracy said, as they drove in to work together.  She was 
wondering how they were going to squelch the growing rumors regarding her 
and Nick if he continued to chauffeur her around.  "How do we go about 
handling last night's case?"

"We don't," he stated, accenting the first word.

"Nick, I will not be kept in the dark!  This is a police matter!"

He held up his hand to cut her off.  "Tracy, I'm sure that LaCroix meant 
"mortal police matters".  You will not go anywhere near this one.  You know 
the killer's a vampire, and I can guarantee that he is older and more 
dangerous than you are.  LaCroix made me promise to take care of you, and 
that is one command I happen to agree with."

"Well, I don't.  What if he's stronger than you are?  What if you need me?  
You know that is what partners are for."

"Tracy!"  Nick was getting angry, but she didn't fear him.  He was nothing 
like LaCroix.  "End of discussion!"

By then they had reached the precinct.  Tracy entered, slamming any doors 
that she could and slumped behind her desk, fairly radiating her irritation. 
  Nick came in at a more dignified pace but also exuding anger.  Many in the 
bullpen concealed grins behind their hands, and wiggled their eyebrows 
knowingly at this "lover's spat" being enacted before them.

The two detectives worked almost silently, grunting one-word comments until 
Nick took a call from the coroner.

Tracy could hear their conversation now.  It was something to be thankful 
for, and one more way to tease her partner, for now anything Nat said to him 
would be "public" information.

This call was just business.  Nat had some information on the identity of 
last night's John Doe.  His name was Alvin Jacobs, an American from 
Louisiana.  The case just got a lot more difficult, since it crossed 
political borders.

"I'll be there shortly," Nick said, before hanging up.

Tracy reached for her coat and brazenly followed Nick out the door.  She 
sensed his growing anger at her defiance, but she knew he wouldn't make a 
scene in front of the mortals.  Once out in the parking lot, though, he 
turned on her with glowing eyes and sharp fangs.  He was so beautiful when 
he did that, she thought.

"You are NOT coming," he ground out.  "You will stay here and wait for me to 
return."

"Are you going to make me!" she snapped belligerently, her hands on her 
hips.

Nick took a deep breath and some of the anger receded.  "I would hope that 
won't be necessary," he said.  He loomed over her, his fangs scraping along 
her sensitive neck.  "But I could leave you too tired to resist."

Tracy almost hoped that he would, as the now familiar feeling of warmth and 
moistness filled her core.  Still, if he were going to be gone, it would be 
a perfect time to slip out and see her birth father one last time.  She 
remained silent, no longer fighting him, but not agreeing to stay, either.

Nick took it for submission.  He nipped playfully at her throat, his voice 
becoming thick and husky.  "Wait at your desk.  I expect to be gone about an 
hour."

She hugged him impulsively, one hand slipping unnoticed into his pocket for 
the keys.

Then, leaving the caddy behind, Nick leaped into the night sky and was gone. 
  She grinned.  She had hoped he would do that.  She adjusted the seat in 
his car and drove away.

It was a little earlier than she'd expected to be able to get away.  Maybe, 
if she were lucky, her dad wouldn't be home yet... but as she pulled into 
his driveway, she saw his car parked in the garage and some lights on in the 
house.

Nearing the front door, she was struck with playful curiosity.  Her dad had 
always been such a private person.  Conversations would end the moment she 
came in to a room, doors were always closed, and drawers were kept locked.  
With her vampiric senses now she could unveil a little of the mystery.

Filtering out many of the sounds she could detect, she focused only on her 
father's voice.  It was deep, but a little nasal- not thrillingly powerful, 
like LaCroix's.  He had an odd habit of speech- not ignorant, exactly, but 
uncultured.  She'd never really noticed before.  He was talking with someone 
he called "Turk", and they were not happy.  She couldn't hear both sides of 
the call from outside.  Her mom had always kept a spare key under a fake 
rock in the rose bushes, for nights she couldn't remember where she had left 
her purse, or the car, or anything else she'd misplaced while under the 
influence.  Tracy nudged the rock aside now and found it was still there.

Feeling some of the old excitement, like when she'd still been a rebellious 
teenager, she turned the key in the lock and silently slipped inside.  Her 
dad was in his office, down the hall and on the left.  Stealthily, she drew 
nearer and listened.

The other voice was still hard to detect through the closed door, but it 
carried fine through the floor vents.  Her dad was irate, but this Turk 
sounded confident.

"His body washed up on shore last night, you a**hole!  I paid you to get rid 
of him and I've never seen a sloppier job!  I don't know how you stay in 
business!"

Tracy covered her mouth to muffle a gasp.  No, it couldn't be!  Surely she 
hadn't heard right.  Her dad was a police commissioner!  Surely he had 
nothing to do with this murder!

She'd missed some of Turk's reply.

"... it will all be swept under a rock, and filed with other unsolveds," 
Turk promised.

"My force is not that irresponsible," her dad yelled.  "It would have been 
far better to get rid of it right the first time.  Now take care of it, or 
you will have no further business with me.  You hear?"

She could have heard the phone slam down even without her special hearing.  
Suddenly, she wished she'd been a good little girl and waited outside 
ringing the doorbell. It certainly sounded like her dad was involved in 
something clandestine.  And she didn't want to try to lie to him now, while 
she was shaking.  Using vampiric speed, she fled the hallway and returned to 
the front door.  She buried the key and straightened her jacket before 
ringing the doorbell.  Now she would have to see how good she was at acting.

Her same old dad opened the door shortly.  He didn't look like he'd just 
chewed out a hit man.

"Baby!  You're early," he said, stepping aside to let her in.  "This is 
great.  Can I get you something?  A soda, some chips perhaps?"

Tracy plastered a perky grin on her face even as the thought of greasy chips 
and flavored, colored, sugary burpy water made her stomach pitch and roll.  
"No, thanks, dad.  I've eaten."  That much was true.

She walked with him through the wide, familiar halls towards the den at the 
back, feeling strangely like an intruder.  This wasn't home anymore.  This 
was another lifetime.  Her dad helped himself to a beer and popped the top, 
guzzling the foamy brew that squirted forth.

"Baby.  You look awful," he said tactlessly.

"I feel fine.  I just got over the flu, remember?"

Predictably, he'd found the subject of tonight's debate rather quickly.  
"It's that night shift.  I expected you to pull graveyards as a rook, but 
you've really proven yourself.  It's time that captain realized it and 
promoted you to days."

"No, dad!"  She felt a moment of terror.  That would be disastrous.  "I love 
working nights!  And my partner is the greatest."

"Cocky, arrogant a**hole.  He's a good cop, but he sure ruffles my feathers. 
  Look at you.  You're pale as death.  Not my little sunshine girl anymore.  
You need a week off on the beach.  Can I send you to Cancun for Christmas?"

It had been a mistake to come here.  She glared at him, experiencing all the 
old feelings of inadequacy.  He would boss her around, and push her around, 
until she did something really stupid.  Then he'd tell her how disappointed 
he was, and maybe her mom would seek solace in the bottle again, and Tracy 
would feel responsible.  Well, it was over.

"Dad.  I came because you commanded it.  But I am fine.  And I am staying on 
night shift, and I will remain Nick's partner.  If you do anything to change 
all that, then Toronto is no longer big enough for both of us!"

She grabbed her purse and marched to the door, eager to make her exit.
Her dad followed after her, yelling obscenities.  How dare she speak to him 
like that!  He told her to stop, demanded she apologize.  Tracy blinked back 
blood tears and kept her back to him.  Slamming the door behind her was one 
of the hardest things she'd ever done, but she knew she would never come 
here again.

She sat in the caddy for long moments to still the trembling in her hands.  
Then, with a sigh, she drove back to precinct to wait for her partner.


*******************


Nick felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Tracy alone.  LaCroix had made him 
promise to take care of her.  But, how much trouble could she get in if she 
was sitting behind a desk?   He also had a duty to find the guilty vampire 
quickly, and at the moment, the two obligations did not mix.  He tried to 
shrug off his concerns, and promised himself that he would just finish his 
tasks as soon as possible and return to her.
Natalie smiled at him as he entered the morgue.

"So how's babysitting detail?" she asked.

He shrugged, hoping he didn't look too worried.  "Fine.  What have you got?"

She pulled down the drape and let Nick examine the deceased's neck.  There 
were two unmistakable neck wounds, which were only partially concealed with 
a sloppy knife-cut through them.  The neck wounds were 3 and half 
centimeters apart- most likely a male vampire.  But the odd thing was that 
the man had been drugged before being killed.

"Are you sure," Nick asked her.  "That doesn't make sense.  Why would a 
vampire drug his prey?"

"To keep him quiet?" she suggested.

"That's why we hypnotize them," Nick said.

"Well, maybe he was a resistor?"

Something still seemed wrong.  Nick couldn't think what it was.  If the man 
had been a resistor, most vampires would just ignore him and find easier 
prey.  If the man had already discovered their identity, then he had to die, 
but why the drugs?

Nick took the file she'd written for his private viewing only.  Not only was 
the vampire sloppy, but he'd let a lot of blood go to waste, too.  The 
victim was only partially drained.  Nick would have to return to his 
computer to research this man's background- see if he could learn why he was 
here, and who his friends had been.

"So how's Tracy doing," Nat prodded, strangely curious.

Nick shrugged again, still trying for indifferent.  He didn't want to 
describe to Nat how great Tracy was in bed, or in the caddy, or even in the 
middle of the floor.  "It's nice to have someone else for LaCroix to pick 
on," he said lightly.  "Nat, I have to go."

"Could you bring her by sometime?"

He looked surprised.  He usually came to the morgue alone, partly because 
when Tracy had been mortal, she'd always gagged around bodies, and because 
he enjoyed the light, unprofessional teasing with Nat.

"Why?"

"I'd like to have a little "girl talk" is all.  And it might be interesting 
to compare her new vampire blood cells with yours, and the few others 
samples I've collected."

He nodded.  "Soon then.  But, you should clean up the place first."  He 
winked at her, and then was gone.


He shouldn't have set up the meeting at the Raven, Nick thought as he drove 
there.  But then, if LaCroix was going to get mad at him for leaving Tracy 
unattended, then they'd better get this argument over with in a hurry.  He 
went inside, grateful that he could not sense his master's presence.

Patrick poured him a drink.  "They're willing to meet you," he said.
Nick didn't have to ask who they were.  He'd sensed them ever since entering 
the Raven.  They were old, cold, and distant.  He wasn't sure if they were 
as old as LaCroix, but he sensed they were much older than he was.  
Fortifying himself by chugging the drink, he squared his shoulders and 
approached them.

The two vampires were dressed all in black, but the styles were a little 
different for Toronto.  The tailored tunics and blousy pants tucked into 
leather boots looked more eastern European and from some past century.  As 
he drew nearer, he noticed the woman's tunic even had black embroidery with 
tiny mirrors embedded in the center of each design.  It was exceedingly 
beautiful.

She was not.  Her too-narrow face and close-set eyes looked pinched and 
disdainful.  Her dark hair was pulled back into such a tight pug, that he 
wondered if it pulled the corners of her eyes into their unpleasant squint.  
She was overly tall and thin, almost a manly figure.

The male vampire was tall as well, but big all over.  Broad shoulders with 
just a bit too much padding to look muscular.  His face was mostly concealed 
behind a bushy beard, and thick eyebrows cast his dark eyes in shadow.  Nick 
could not read any emotion in their cold faces, nor could he sense them as 
he drew near, which made his apprehension grow.
Finally, he stood at their table, feeling strangely boorish.  He stammered 
once, then drew a deep breath and pushed on ahead.

"Good evening.  I am Nicholas Knight.  May I speak with you?"

The man nodded slightly.  Nick sank into a chair, relieved he could sit down 
before his knees went out.  He had to form his sentences carefully, that he 
didn't offend these newcomers.  If only LaCroix had volunteered to do this!  
But his master had never shown any interest in his "mortal" life as a cop.

"My sister, Corda, and I am Caspian," the vampire said gruffly.

An awkward silence floated around the table.  The elder vampires were not 
going to engage in the mortal customs of small talk.  Nick had always hated 
dealing with such stuffy Old World elders.  He cleared his throat and began.

"I am a detective with the Metro police," he said.  Already he could see the 
sneers on their faces, so like his master's.  This was going to be even 
worse than he'd imagined.

"We found a corpse washed up on the beach.  It is the work of a vampire- a 
sloppy one, at that."

Corda sniffed.  Caspian slapped the table with the flat of his hand.  "Why 
disturb our evening with your tale of such wastefulness?"

Nick squared his shoulders, trying hard not to squirm beneath their 
condescending glares.  "I must find out who is responsible," he said.

"Are you insulting us?" Corda blurted with indignation.

"No!" Nick said quickly.  Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that LaCroix 
wasn't here now.

"It sounded like it to me, fledgling.  How dare you even suggest that we had 
anything to do with it."

"I didn't," Nick stammered, beginning to squirm anyway.

"And now you call us liars?" Caspian jumped to his feet.

Nick felt the temperature of the room drop, and sensed the customers pulling 
away from the trouble that was brewing.   Nick stood, struggling to remember 
LaCroix's lessons on submission and humility, which had been some of the 
hardest to learn.  "No, master," he said, keeping his voice soft.  "I would 
never deign to impugn your noble character.  Please accept my humble 
apology."

Caspian continued to glare at him for a tense moment.  Then Nick felt his 
master's presence behind him, and felt both relieved and fearful.
LaCroix nodded at the two guests.  "Good evening, Caspian," he said.

So he knew them, Nick thought.  Why hadn't he told Nick that?  It would have 
saved him from having to come here, unless his master could not vouch for 
them.  Perhaps they truly were guilty?

"Is there a problem?" LaCroix prodded.

Caspian glowered at Nick a moment longer then turned his gaze away, 
effectively dismissing him as unimportant.  Nick grit his teeth, struggling 
to keep his irritation from showing.  "Your cub needs more lessons in 
manners.  But I will forgive him this once.  See that you tend to his 
education."

LaCroix laid a hand on Nick's shoulder.  It was a gesture of ownership and 
would tell the vampires that Nick had his protection.  Nick wisely held 
still and silent.

"My son does the community a great service," LaCroix said softly.  "While he 
plays in the mortal world, he is able to protect us from discovery.  He has 
found vampire kills in the past, and managed to conceal the truth from 
mortals.  If he seems outspoken, bordering on rudeness, it is merely his 
passion that he devotes to everything he undertakes.  However, I promise 
you, that we will continue to work on those lessons he has not yet 
mastered."

The two guests nodded curtly at LaCroix.  Then they left the Raven without 
another word.  Nick shuddered with relief at their passing.  And he was 
stunned by LaCroix's speech.  If he didn't know better, he would almost 
think his master was proud of him!

"And what are you doing here," LaCroix said, his voice low and menacing.

Nick scowled at him.  All the anger and rebellion he'd felt at the other 
vampires was now unleashed on LaCroix.  "My job.  I have to find the 
careless vampire, and I didn't want to put Tracy in danger.  I left her at 
her desk in the precinct, where I don't think even she can get into 
trouble."

"She must not ever be left alone," LaCroix said firmly.  "I seem to recall 
telling you that.  I am not in the habit of tolerating such blatant 
disobedience!"

"She's not alone," Nick insisted.

"She is a lone vampire among mortals.  That is sheer stupidity for a 
newborn.  Come!  We will go see her together!"

LaCroix's grip on his arm was painful.  Nick could not shake him off.  
Together they left the Raven and flew towards the precinct.


end, part 3.


Waltz in the Sky, 04/??
By Lorelei Sieja

Tracy had no sooner sat at her desk when two men from Internal Affairs 
surrounded her.  "Come with us," they said coldly.

She knew her dad must have sent them.  Not wanting to make a scene, she 
followed them out as far as the hallway.  "What's this all about," she 
snapped at them.

"Just come with us, Miss Vetter," the first man said.

She glared at him.  He was familiar, some lackey whose loyalties were more 
to her dad than the law, she was sure.

"I'm going no where.  You have no right to take me."

They each took her by an arm and continued towards the door.  "Commissioner 
Vetter wants us to deliver you to the 24-hour clinic for an immediate health 
examination.  He's concerned that you are not fit for your job, Miss Vetter. 
  Now you can come along nicely, or we have permission to cuff you and bring 
you in."

Tracy was livid.  She yanked herself from their grip with surprisingly 
little effort.  If only she knew how to hypnotize, she could get rid of them 
without further bother.  And where was that partner of hers!

"I'll go," she agreed, "but only if we wait for my partner."

"No."

While she whirled on the one who'd denied her, the other carried out his 
threat and handcuffed her wrists together behind her back.  Tracy was 
mortified.  She was ready to scream.  Then they took her arms again and 
forced her out into their waiting car.

Now what, she wondered.  It was just a clinic.  Maybe, if the doctor didn't 
do anything too invasive, he wouldn't be alarmed.  After all, Nick had been 
in the emergency room a few times.  She muttered under her breath and 
struggled at the handcuffs.  She should be able to break them.  But then, 
how would she explain that?  Tracy wished she'd never gone anywhere near her 
dad.

"Will you go inside like a good little girl, or do we need to leave the 
handcuffs on," one man asked snidely.

"Take these off me now, if you know what's good for you," she threatened, 
striving to keep the red-gold glow from her eyes.

They sniggered, but removed the cuffs before escorting her inside.

The lights were too bright.  It hurt.  She blinked rapidly, praying she 
wouldn't weep the telltale red tears now.  A nurse came then and put her in 
a small examining room.  Tracy strained to listen to her captors, wondering 
if they would leave, or wait around to drive her back to work.

"Now, what seems to be the problem, Miss Vetter," the nurse asked cheerily 
as she opened a file folder and clicked her pen.

"My dad," she answered.  "He's demanding this.  I feel fine.  So, let's not 
waste another moment of the good doctor's time, and I'll just go."

"Now, now, that's okay, dear.  The doctor has plenty of time to waste- this 
isn't our busy period.  I have orders here for a complete physical- chest 
x-rays, blood panel, urinalysis... but we'll start with your blood 
pressure."

Tracy argued.  She tried to leave.  The two IA men came back in to hold her 
still for the nurse to strap the blood pressure cuff around her arm.  Then, 
when she had no blood pressure at all, the nurse went to get another cuff, 
and then another.  Tracy struggled harder, but the growing team of nurses, 
the doctor, and the two IA men held her captive, demanding to know why she 
had no pulse, no blood pressure, and her skin was so cold.  They probed her, 
withdrawing four large vials of blood and placed a call to the lab to handle 
them immediately.  Tracy was so frightened she started to cry, which alarmed 
the medical staff even further.

Then the door was thrown wide open.  LaCroix and Nick stormed inside the 
crowded little examining room.  Nick was furious, but LaCroix looked 
deceptively calm.  Tracy could sense his intense anger.  Still, he was very 
much in control of the moment.

"Nicholas, take her home at once.  I will clean up this mess," LaCroix said 
coldly.  When the IA men tried to interfere, LaCroix sent them to search for 
a red '62 volkswagon with a burned-out tail light.  They left at once to 
complete the assignment without question.  "And you," he ordered Tracy, 
"will go straight to your room and wait for me."

Tracy swallowed back her fear and nodded.  "Yes, sir," she whispered.

She felt his eyes on her as she left the room.  Even turning the corner and 
going down the hallway, she sensed his nearness and his anger.  She had 
disobeyed, and she knew what he would do to her.  She felt both frightened 
and aroused, and was surprised at her own reaction.

Nick grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside.  She didn't see the 
caddy anywhere.  He took her roughly and lifted into the night air.

She was so tired.  The tension had been especially draining.  All she wanted 
was for this night to end.  She was even too tired to be excited about 
flying with him.

Nick was silent.  She could tell by the set of his jaw that he was still 
furious.  A small muscle twitched, and she thought she saw blood sweat 
forming on his brow.  Was it that tiring to fly with someone?  Or had he 
really been worried about her?  He avoided even looking at her now.  At the 
Raven, he entered the apartment through the skylight and deposited her on 
the floor.

"Nick," she said softly.  "I'm sorry."

His eyes burned into her, flaming red passion.  "Tracy," he said.  "For the 
first time, I'm sorry I even know you."  Then he soared out through the 
skylight.

Tracy stood there, alone and tired, and wept.

She'd really messed up big time.  He'd been telling her a little bit about 
the code, and how important it was to keep knowledge of their existence a 
secret.  She'd already heard that from Vachon while still a mortal, but just 
how dangerous the smallest thing could be surprised her.  From now on, all 
contact with a doctor was to be taken seriously.  And her biological father 
was strictly off-limits.

She knew his punishment would be harsh; and she was already hungry and 
tired.  She went to the refrigerator and drank greedily an entire bottle.  
Then she went in to her bedroom to wait.

An hour later she felt his approach and roused from the light sleep.  She 
heard the door close, heard the lock catch.  Heard him call her.  She froze. 
  She wanted to run and hide, but knew there was no escaping him.  And part 
of her felt strangely drawn to him.  Soon, it would be over, and maybe they 
would make love again.  She got up from the bed and exited her room.

LaCroix stood, the immovable statue, barely contained rage and volatile 
passion.  Tracy trembled at the sight of him.

"You know what you did wrong," he stated.  His voice sent shivers up her 
back.

She nodded weakly.  "I disobeyed you.  I went to see my other dad."

"And?"

She thought quickly.  And what?  "And, six strokes for disobedience," she 
recalled.

"That is only the beginning," he said firmly.  "You showed disrespect by 
obeying Commissioner Vetter's wishes over my own.  You erred again when you 
allowed the doctors to make records of your condition.  Breaking the code 
can be punishable by death, but as my fledgling, it merits six more lashes.  
Then, what did you do when you returned home?"

"I went to my room, like you told me to," she said, her voice trembling.  
They were already up to eighteen.  He'd only hit her twelve the last time 
and it had horrible.

"Yes, I told you to go straight to your room.  That did not include a side 
trip to the kitchen.  Direct disobedience again."

Tracy felt cold as ice.  Her hands trembled.  She undid the snap on her 
jeans and stepped out of them as she bent over the table.  LaCroix grabbed 
her panties and tore them off.  She waited long moments, dreading it, as he 
pulled off his belt.  She heard him draw it back, heard the swoosh of air as 
he brought it down.  Heard the smack as it struck her.  She gasped, tears 
filled her eyes, and she bit her lip.  One.

He drew the belt back and struck again, the leather bruising her tender 
skin.  Two.  Three.  Four.  The tears were flowing freely.  Why had she 
defied him?  She had known he would follow through on his promise, that 
disobedience would always be punished.  Had some perverse part of her longed 
for it?  The last spanking had been painful, yet it had also been incredibly 
erotic.  Now, all she felt was pain.

Five. Six. Seven.

Tracy was certain she would never sit or stand and move again without 
permanent discomfort.  Eight.  Nine.

A part of her blocked out the pain.  She tried to recall the last time.  The 
joy of mating with him.  Of discovering that he did love her.  A warmth 
filled her, even as the belt struck again.  She wiggled her hips, imagining 
LaCroix's view, and wondering if he was aroused, too.

Eleven.  Twelve.  Still the punishment continued.  Tracy's fangs erupted as 
her instincts cried out for blood.  The sound of the belt echoed in her 
sensitive ears, pounding on her brain.  She lost count, convinced that the 
torture would never end.

Finally LaCroix laid the belt down on the table.  Stiffly she stood, afraid 
to move.

"You may think I am severe," LaCroix said coolly.  "Our culture has few laws 
and even fewer punishments.  The most common is death.  If any other vampire 
had been in that clinic tonight, you would no longer exist.  I demand 
obedience, and I thought you knew that."

She nodded miserably.  "Yes, LaCroix.  I do."

"Then, please explain yourself."

How could she?  She was so hungry and weak and hurting that she couldn't 
even think.  But she dare not disobey him again.  "I'm sorry.  I know you 
said not to see my dad again, but I just felt that I ought to, like say good 
bye or something.  Only I'm so sorry I went.  Not just because I disobeyed 
you, but because I learned what a creep that man really is.  I'm ashamed of 
him.  And I never want to see him again!"  She couldn't continue.  Her voice 
cracked into sobs.

LaCroix pulled her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head.  "My 
child.  Some lessons are painful.  Now go to bed.  We will resume your 
education tomorrow."

Tracy's lip trembled as she pulled away from him.  Her stomach hurt with 
hunger that was nearly as painful as her rear.  Why wouldn't he put her to 
bed, like he did before?  Because, she realized, he intended that she should 
endure the punishment a little longer.  Dolefully she went into her room.

Sleep did not come.  She could not rest on her back, and the mattress was 
too soft to sleep on her stomach.  Even lying on her side was uncomfortable, 
and she was only able to doze for a few hours at a time.  She heard LaCroix 
leave, and some time later, she heard him return.  She sensed a sadness so 
profound from him that it made her cry again.  Tracy vowed that she would 
try to never again disobey him.  Not just because she dreaded his 
punishment, but because she loved him.


In the middle of the afternoon Tracy gave up trying to sleep.  She showered, 
but wasn't yet ready to dress.  She pulled on a terry robe and cinched the 
belt, listening for LaCroix.  Was he up yet?  Would it be all right to feed? 
  The welts on her rear had mostly healed, although it was still very tender 
and her stomach rumbled painfully.

Hesitantly, she opened her door.  LaCroix sat in his favorite chair, sipping 
a beverage and reading.  He didn't look up when she joined him.  Was he 
still angry with her?

"Um, good evening, master," she ventured softly.

He closed his book and eyed her, his face a cold mask.  "Good evening, my 
child," he said.  "Have something to ease your hunger, then we will begin a 
new lesson."

Gratefully, she moved to the refrigerator, although part of her grieved that 
he wouldn't make love to her right now.  The bottled blood was not filling, 
nor did it do much to heal her discomfort.  He was all she could think 
about.


"Last night's lesson included controlling hunger," LaCroix said.  "Going to 
bed hungry is not pleasant, and should be avoided at all costs.  Let it be a 
reminder to you, never let yourself get too hungry.  And when we must hunt 
for our meal, it should be done well before dawn."

Tracy nodded.  She had thought that "going to bed without supper" had just 
been part of the punishment.  Now, she realized that it had been a lesson, 
and one she would have had to face eventually.

"You did well with controlling your instincts.  The ability to control 
yourself is one of the most important lessons if you wish to live and work 
among mortals.  We will cover this frequently until you have it mastered."

Tracy tried to concentrate.  His voice was a balm.  She watched his lips 
move, watched the slight indent in his cheek as it peaked in and out while 
he spoke.  On anyone else, it would be called a dimple, but the word seemed 
incongruous to describe the ancient Roman.  He had such a cultured way of 
speech.  His word choice was eloquent, if not readily comprehendable.  Her 
tongue slipped between her fangs to moisten her lips as she stared at him.

LaCroix laughed softly.  Tracy jumped, startled to realize that she had not 
been paying attention to him at all.   "I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly, 
her words awkward around her teeth.  "I'll try harder."

"No, my dear.  It is quite all right.  You require more sleep."

Her heart fell.  Her bed was cold and lonely.  She was almost too tired to 
go there.  Then she felt herself being lifted up.  Her master held her 
effortlessly and carried her into her room.  Laying her on her bed with 
surprising tenderness, he slowly pulled the belt loose from her robe.

She saw his fangs emerge at the sight of her nakedness.  She grew warm and 
moist again, yet was afraid to hope that he would stay with her.  Then his 
cool hands traced up her abdomen, across her breasts, to ease each sleeve 
from her arms.  Slowly, passionately, he made love to her.  He nuzzled her 
to arousal, then he entered her.  His thrusting motions brought her to 
climax again, and when he finally let her drink the nectar of his blood, her 
passion crested and exploded, filling her completely.  She was only vaguely 
aware as he lay beside her and pulled her into his embrace.  She sensed him 
brush a kiss on her forehead, and thought she heard him whisper.

"My little daughter.  It pains me to see you suffer.  I fear you are coming 
to mean very much to me; I wish only to keep you safe forever."

She cuddled closer to his chest.  She shivered, until he pulled the quilt up 
over both of them, and then she slept soundly.



Tracy waited nervously for Nick to arrive.  She burned with remorse, wanting 
to apologize, yet not sure how to make it up to him.  It was certain that he 
wouldn't trust her now.  And partnerships had to be built on trust.  She put 
on makeup, but still felt pale and miserable.  Hearing a car's horn, she 
looked out the window.  Nick was parked just outside the back door of the 
Raven.  He wasn't coming upstairs tonight like he had every other night.  
Blinking back tears, she grabbed her coat and purse and started to leave.

LaCroix escorted her down the stairs and to the back door. He placed his 
hands on her shoulders then and kissed her forehead.  "Behave yourself, my 
daughter," he said lightly.

Rising up on her toes, she whispered into his ear.  "Sure, dad!"  Then she 
kissed his neck and went outside, relieved to know that LaCroix was not 
still angry with her.

Nick was another story.  His manners were more than brusque- almost 
vengeful.  He didn't say a single word to her the entire trip.  Tracy 
blinked back tears again, not knowing what to say to make things right.

In the parking lot she bolted from the car to confront him before he could 
escape inside.  "Nick, I'm sorry!  I screwed up!  All right?"

"Fine," he spat angrily, and sidestepped her.

"Nick, stop!  Talk to me!"

"I've nothing to say."  How often had she seen him like this before- a 
seething wall of rage- driving everyone away from him?  It had earned him 
the nickname of the Knightmare.  Now though, she was not afraid of him.  
They had to get beyond this, if she was going to work with him.

"Nick!" She cried and grabbed his arm to stop him.
He blanched visibly and gasped in pain.  Tracy let go at once, but she knew 
she wasn't that strong.  He turned away from her.

"Nick, what is it?  What's wrong?"

Still, he didn't speak.  His head hung low and he looked so alone.  She 
wanted to comfort him, but didn't know what was bothering him.  "Nick, if 
you won't trust me and talk to me right now, then I'm going to the captain.  
I'll tell him that we've been sleeping together, and demand a new partner."

"You can't do that," he whispered.

"I will."

He glanced off in either direction, then took her and flew to the rooftop.  
He put her down and glared at her, the familiar obstinate expression firmly 
planted on his face.

Tracy didn't say anything.  She opened her new senses and tried to touch 
Nick's mind.  He didn't really seem to be angry.  The anger was just a smoke 
screen.  She wasn't certain what she did sense from him, though.  Tenderly, 
she reached out and touched his shoulder.  Again she saw him wince.  He 
sucked in his breath and pulled away from her.

"Oh my gosh, Nick," she whispered, suddenly knowing what was wrong.  She 
stepped closer, tears filling her eyes and spilling over.  "But why?" she 
asked.  "It wasn't your fault!  I went out on my own!"

"Because I promised to protect you and I failed."

"So what does he expect from you!"

Nick turned his back to her and stared off into the night.  She saw the 
defeated slump of his shoulders and nearly wept.  Just yesterday he had been 
proud and strong... and now he was confused and hurting.

"He wants me to be more like him," Nick said.  "And I can't."

Tracy stepped closer behind him.  She didn't know where it would be safe to 
touch, only that she needed to comfort him.  The pieces were falling 
together, parts of the picture.  Nick had failed LaCroix, and the ancient 
would demand he be punished.  Only Nick, the proud Crusader, would have 
refused to submit.  So it had been no simple punishment, but a brutal 
beating.  Then LaCroix must have denied his healing blood to his son, who 
continued to defy him.

Tracy had learned that mortal blood fed and comforted her and over time, 
would heal.  But when she'd been seriously injured, the blood of the ancient 
vampire healed instantly.  If Nick had even fed from Urs, he should have 
recovered by now.  But in his anger and shame, he must have avoided even his 
lover.

How many times in the past had he come to work, beaten and hurting, using 
his anger to keep anyone from touching him?

"Nick," she said, moving closer behind him.  She put her arms around him on 
either side, but without touching.  She felt for the buttons on his shirt 
and undid them, one at a time.

"Nick, please, take me.  Feed from me!  I beg you!"  The last button gave 
way.  The soft silk shirt slipped from his shoulders and fell to the 
rooftop.  Nick was shrouded in dark and shadows, but with her new sight, the 
angry wounds and bruises were plainly visible.  Lightly, baring touching, 
she kissed each one, caressing them with her tongue.  Broken ribs, partially 
set, dark bruises over them... after nearly sixteen hours to still be so 
vivid, she couldn't even imagine when he had looked like earlier.

Nick didn't move.  He didn't stop her, either.  Slowly, she saw the tension 
leave his shoulders.  When she'd kissed the entire length of his back, she 
moved to one arm and then the other, caressing, softly brushing against 
damaged skin, being careful not to cause any further discomfort.

She was feeling too warm again, which annoyed her.  She'd only meant to 
comfort him, to somehow make up for the fact that he was hurting and it was 
all her fault.  She didn't figure that she should find pleasure in this 
exchange.  She wouldn't drink from him tonight.  Not when he was already 
weakened.

Nick took her wrists and stopped her deliberate seduction.  She groaned, 
ready to beg him to let her continue, but he lowered his fly and stepped out 
of his trousers.  In moments he stood before her, indescribable beautiful, a 
naked statue of marble in moonlight, and fully aroused.  Then his hands went 
to her clothes and removed them.

She shivered involuntarily, not from cold but rather anticipation.  Nick 
began a slow assault on her senses then, as he touched her skin with 
feather-light kisses.  She marveled at his control and concentration, as she 
saw sore muscles wince at every movement.  She was moist and ready and eager 
for him now.

Nick stood, giving her a toothy smile.  She felt her own fangs descend.  She 
loved his vampire face.  It was the most erotic, arousing vision!  He was 
such a contradiction- a boyish, innocent face with the eyes of a demon and 
the teeth of a predator.  She would never tire of looking at it.

Nick lifted her, pulling her legs on either side of him, and supporting her 
thighs with his hands.  The tip of his erection rubbed against her.  Tracy 
hesitated, wanting to touch him.  She put her hands on his face and kissed 
him.  Then he lowered his hands to impale her with his shaft.

She moaned, arching her back, and thrilling at the feel of his cool member 
deep inside her.  This was so much more than she had imagined.  All sense of 
the night, of the rooftop, of themselves as separate creatures, was gone.  
There was only the passion, and two halves of the whole to complete the 
ancient ritual.

Tracy began to rock against him, finding the rhythm that would please and 
satisfy.  Her teeth ached.  She didn't know if she could keep from biting.  
"Take me, Nick!  Oh take me now!" she sobbed.

Nick plunged into her throat.  His seed exploded into her, even as her blood 
gushed into his mouth.  He sucked fiercely.  Her passion, her love, her 
shame and remorse, all became a part of him.  He drank more, as his essence 
continued to pulse into her, until the trembling slowed and still he clung 
to her.

He withdrew his fangs then and licked at the twin wounds, just realizing 
that she had not completed the circle.  She had given without taking.  He 
felt the healing process begin, but he worried for his infant sister.

Tracy felt limp in his arms.  He tightened his hold on her as real fear 
quickly replaced the passion of moments ago.

"That was fantastic, Nick," she whispered dreamily.

He withdrew from inside her and set her on her feet.  "Tracy, you are too 
young.  I should not have fed from you. You must take from me."

Tracy did feel a little light-headed, but even as she watched she could see 
his bruises fade.  That would slow if she fed from him.  Images of his abuse 
at LaCriox's hands filled her, not clear but present just the same, as her 
vampire nature claimed his blood seed.  Then she grinned.  Kneeling before 
him, slowly, tenderly, she licked his blood cum from him.

Nick sighed, shuddering and returning to a state of arousal even as she drew 
strength from him.  Her mouth was firm, her teeth carefully covered with her 
lips to protect him.  She grabbed his thighs and held him while she 
continued to work down his shaft.  What had begun as a light snack turned 
into rekindled passion.  His moans of pleasure encouraged her.  She worried 
that he was too big for her, but even when he pressed against the back of 
her throat she didn't feel any discomfort.  It must be another benefit of 
being a vampire, she thought, and sucked harder the full length of him.

With a loud cry, Nick grabbed her wrist and bit into it, tasted her blood 
again, but just a taste.  With the blood he found release, and spurt his 
seed into her hungry mouth.  Tracy gulped, as it came in waves too fast for 
her to consume.

Finally, sated and healed, they stood together and embraced.  The winter 
wind blew around their naked bodies, but they did not notice.  As they 
hugged, the vampire blood that still lay spilled on their flesh was 
reabsorbed.   Finally, they replaced their clothing and straightened their 
hair.  Nick's movements were more fluid now.  She had experienced the 
vicious beating he'd suffered through tasting his blood and was suddenly 
grateful that she was not LaCroix's favorite child.

"You, little sis, are a woman of many talents," Nick said huskily.

Tracy would have blushed if she'd been mortal.  As it was, she just shrugged 
and accepted the lightly teasing words as a sign that all was forgiven.  
"Shall we show up at work tonight?"

Nick lifted from the roof, laughing as she called out to him for a ride.  
Swooping back for her, he carried her swiftly down to the ground, making her 
stomach flip at the sudden descent.  They were both laughing as they went 
inside to work.

The gossip makers decided that the lover's quarrel had been resolved.

end, part 4.


Waltz in the Sky, 05/14
By Lorelei Sieja


Tracy took the top file and opened it, not really caring about the case.  It 
was old, and there was so little to go on that it would probably be filed 
with the unsolveds shortly.  The dead guy had been despised by many, and yet 
they all had alibis.  It didn't seem like a case worth solving.  Her cold 
attitude shocked her only a bit.  Her perspective was changing daily and she 
wasn't sure anymore what was right and wrong.

Feeling Nick's eyes on her, she looked up surprised to see the intent gaze 
with soft gold flecks and wondered what was running through his mind now.

"Thanks, Tracy," he said.

She grinned broadly.  "I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to 
return the favor, bro."

He laughed.  "I hope for your sake, not too many."

"Nick," she asked, laying aside the folder.  "I understand that you don't 
want me involved with the Jacobs case, but, will you tell me about it?  Keep 
me informed?  And I promise to stay out."

His smile softened and he considered her request.  Then he nodded.  "Fine.  
But, let's talk in the car."

"So where will we go?"

"To see Nat," he said.  Once inside the caddy, he started to tell her what 
little he'd learned.  "The victim was Alvin Jacobs.  He was 33, from 
Louisiana, and we haven't learned much about him yet.  We don't know why he 
was in Toronto, or who he knew, only that he arrived here four weeks ago and 
he was asking a lot of questions about you."

Tracy jumped.  "Me?  Why me?"

Nick shrugged.  "I haven't a clue."

Tracy's heart beat twice in quick succession and her hands trembled.

"What's wrong?" Nick prodded.

"I wish I had never gone to see dad," she said, as two red tears spilled 
down her pale cheeks.

Nick had had similar feelings, but he thought they were over that now.

"I overheard him talking to someone on the phone, and it sounded like he was 
somehow involved in this murder."

"Tracy?  Are you sure?  What exactly did you hear?"

Tracy closed her eyes to concentrate better.  Then carefully, she told Nick 
everything she remembered.  "I don't love him, Nick.  I don't even like him. 
  But, I don't want to see him dead.  I just wish he'd go away and leave me 
alone," she confessed.

Nick nodded and put an arm around her shoulders.  "I can understand that.  
Tracy, tonight, when you go home, tell LaCroix everything you just told me.  
Alright?"

She nodded, wiping away the tears.  "But why?"

"Well, for one, you don't want him to think you were keeping information 
from him, and for two, it will make a difference how he handles the 
commissioner in the future."

Nick held open the door for her, absently showing that outdated chivalry 
she'd accused him of before.  Tracy just grinned and went in.  Maybe some 
habits could not be changed.  She didn't really mind the gossip, either.  It 
was kind of funny.

"So why are we here?" She asked.

Nick pulled her closer and whispered softly.  "Nat wants to meet you, now 
that you're one of us.  Do you mind if she takes a blood sample?"

It seemed like a strange request.  Tracy had heard about Nick's desire to 
become mortal again.  She thought it was ridiculous, and wondered why 
LaCroix permitted him to search.  Still, he looked so hopeful just then, and 
she still felt responsible for getting him in trouble.  She simply shrugged. 
"I guess."

"Thanks, kid," he said, and grinned at her.

Natalie got up from her desk as they entered.  Tracy noted that there were 
no bodies visible.  Nick must have asked her to put them away before 
bringing her in.  Tracy didn't mind the added consideration.  Bodies no 
longer grossed her out, and she no longer felt embarrassed, like she had to 
prove herself.  Now they just looked tasty.

"Hi, Tracy," Natalie said awkwardly.  "I've been looking forward to this.  
Can you stay and chat?"

Tracy looked at Nick.  He nodded.  "I'll wait outside," he said.

Natalie looked surprised, like he didn't trust her with Tracy.

"LaCroix's orders," Tracy explained.

That seemed to satisfy.  Nat turned up a radio.  "For privacy," she 
explained.  She knew Nick could hear through doors, but perhaps the music 
would further confuse him.  "So, Tracy.  What was it like?"

Tracy felt oddly embarrassed.  Somehow, making love totally naked on the 
roof of the police precinct seemed perfectly normal, but trying to tell this 
mortal woman about her new, sensual experiences was just too weird.  "What 
was what like?  Why do you want to know?"

It was Natalie's turn to blush.  "Let's just say that I've given some 
consideration to coming across, and I'm curious."

Tracy sat in the other chair and accepted a plastic pouch of blood, while 
Nat stirred her tea.  Just like two friends chatting over lunch, she thought 
dryly.  Then she started to tell Natalie, and was greatly encouraged at the 
woman's questions.  Nat was more interested in the actual act of becoming a 
vampire, from a scientist's perspective, than in the sensual experience.

"I admire your courage, Tracy.  I've thought about this for years, and I 
just can't seem to make the final commitment.  I guess, because, other than 
having no love life, I love my life here."

"Well, I regretted it at first," she admitted then.  "I think it would have 
been different if I'd had a vampire sister.  Guys can be so obtuse and that 
doesn't change with eternity.  I was feeling things, and no one- not 
LaCroix, or Nick, or Vachon, was able to help me deal with my emotions.  My 
first week would have been unbearable if not for Urs."

Natalie stiffened at the mention of Nick's girlfriend, which irritated her 
further.  She loved Nick, but she knew she was no longer in love with him.  
She shouldn't begrudge him the brief happiness.  He'd had precious little in 
his long life.

"Urs is really a sweetheart," Tracy said gently, sensing her discomfort.

Nat forced a bright smile.  "I'm sure she is.  And I am happy for Nick.  
Really."

"So why didn't you ever come across to be with him?  I always thought you 
loved him."

"I do," Nat said quickly.  "I've loved him ever since he first sat up on my 
table.  But something always held me back.  I'd be ready to do it, to make 
the commitment, and then he'd do something really stupid, and I'd ask myself 
if I was willing to give up everything to be with a man who would not grow 
up."

Tracy grinned.  She'd already noticed Nick's Peter Pan tendencies herself.  
Even though by mortal appearance he was a good 10 or 12 years older, and in 
actuality was almost 800 years older, she still saw his actions as often 
immature.

"So why are you still considering it, then?" Tracy asked.  Natalie's heart 
was pulsing wildly.  She had a secret and she was fairly bursting to share 
it.  Tracy watched as emotions played across Nat's face: concern, eagerness, 
hope, denial.  "I can keep a secret from anyone, except LaCroix," Tracy said 
by way of encouragement.

Nat smiled then.  "Okay.  LaCroix has intimated that he is interested in 
me."

Tracy gasped.  "You can't be serious!"

Nat blushed and her smile widened.  "I don't know what to think.  For six 
hears I have hated him, blaming him for all of Nick's troubles.  Now, things 
are changing.  We're not fighting about Nick and I find I miss LaCroix's 
company."

"So, when would you do it?  Are you getting serious?"

Nat laughed.  Tracy was displaying some of the old perky youthful 
enthusiasm, and suddenly she didn't seem so very different.  "No, I won't 
come across for a few years yet, if LaCroix gives me that long.  Eternity is 
too long to make a mistake.  I want to get to know him better, maybe let him 
court me.  And, I have to let my relationship with Nick settle, so there 
won't be any jealousy between them."

"So," Tracy said slowly, mischief playing in her expression.  "Would that 
make you like my little sister, or my mom?"

"Yes," Nat answered, and they laughed together.

Tracy stood.  She was feeling very tired and explained that to Nat.  "So, 
Nick said you wanted to draw some blood?"

"I do," Nat answered.  "But, I suspect I should ask LaCroix first.  We'll do 
it some other time.  Okay?"

She followed Tracy to the door.  Nick had pulled up a chair across the hall 
and kept his eyes on her office the entire time.  Now he rose and approached 
them, trying to act indifferent, yet his innate curiosity was coming out.  
Nat couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him.

"Okay, Nick.  We're all done talking about you for now!"

Tracy giggled.  "Let's go home, partner.  I'm beat."



Nick wouldn't walk her upstairs once they reached the Raven.  "Oh come on, 
Nick," she prodded.  "Forgive and forget.  It's over."

He refused.  "I have work to do."

She felt his protective gaze follow her until she knocked on the door and 
LaCroix let her in.  The two men glared at each other but said nothing.  
Tracy sighed.  She knew she had a vampire sister somewhere.  If only Janette 
would come to visit, maybe she wouldn't feel so outnumbered.

LaCroix brought her a glass and escorted her into the living room.  Soft 
music played over the speakers, the lights were dimmed.  He seemed mellow 
tonight.  Tracy wondered if he was missing Nicholas.

"Tell me about your evening, my dear," he asked gently.

"I had a nice visit with Natalie," Tracy began, watching his face.  She 
thought she saw a spark of something in his cool, blue eyes, but wasn't 
quite sure.  "Nick was there.  He waited in the hallway, watching over me, 
but Nat wanted to have a girls-only chat."

The spark of interest fanned.  He wasn't irritated with Nick, in fact, she 
wasn't certain he was thinking about his son at all.  LaCroix's face was 
carefully controlled, cool, like alabaster stone, and yet she was nearly 
certain that his heart beat at the mention of Natalie's name.  She'd have to 
say it a few more times and see if she was right.

"And what did the irrepressible Miss Lambert want to talk about?"

"She wanted to know what it was like to come across," Tracy

said, sipping her beverage and drawing out the conversation even though she 
was so very, very tired.  "I know that kind of talk is not allowed with 
mortals, sir, but Nat seems like the exception.  I mean, since the Fever and 
all.  I hope you don't mind."

LaCroix smiled indulgently.  "It would be better to ask permission before 
you do something, but in this instance, I do not mind."

Tracy decided not to tell LaCroix just how much Nat liked him and was 
considering his advances.  She would drop a few hints and watch.  With 
LaCroix, she felt it would be better not to become too involved in this 
relationship.  The parent/child/master/lover relationship was already too 
complicated to add "matchmaker" in to the equation.

LaCroix finished his beverage and rose.  Drawing Tracy in his arms, he put 
her to bed.



Nick didn't return to the precinct.  He'd pulled a photo id of Alvin Jacobs 
from a record of his visa and obtained sketchy personal information.  Jacobs 
had no family; his sister died three years before.  The incident must have 
shaken him, for he quit his job and had traveled extensively ever since.  
Nick would hit some of the nightclubs and convenience stores and see if 
anyone recognized him.

But after hours of footwork, he'd learned that Alvin Jacobs never went to 
the nightclubs, never went shopping, and so far, no one seemed to know him.  
He hadn't even been able to find an address for him!  It seemed incredible, 
that in this age of technology, a man could just die, and no one would miss 
him.

But something about the conversation Tracy had overheard at the 
commissioner's house bothered him.  The caller, "Turk", had answered as 
though he'd known how vampires would conceal a sloppy kill.  And Jacobs had 
been killed by a vampire.  But if the hitman was the vampire, then why had 
he botched the disposal so badly?  What was he trying to do?  The more Nick 
thought about it, the angrier he became.  The only possible answer was that 
this vampire wanted to cause Nick trouble- perhaps another meddling elder 
with a grudge against him working for mortals.  It was time to find this 
"Turk".

The name wasn't familiar.  Maybe Larry Merlin could be persuaded to help.  
The vampire computer expert helped others to relocate when it was time to 
move on, managing the paper trail that would support their new identities.  
It was a long shot, but maybe he could help Nick uncover something about 
Jacobs or this Turk.  After all, it was a case that threatened vampire 
security.



Merlin smiled at his guest.  "Planning on leaving now, Brabant?  Baby sister 
not working out?"

"No, that's not it," Nick hedged.  He offered Merlin a gift of Raven private 
stock, which had been a gift to him.  It might help his case.  Merlin's eyes 
widened.

"This must be serious," he murmured.

"I wouldn't trouble you if it were otherwise," Nick said.  He waited while 
Merlin chose to open the bottle and share it with him.  Then the older 
vampire encouraged Nick to speak.

"Mortals have found someone's kill," Nick began, jumping right to the heart 
of the matter.  Merlin was instantly alert.  It was almost a vampire's worst 
fear; only facing a gang vampire hunters was more threatening.  "I have 
nothing to go on, really.  Tracy overheard a conversation that a hitman, 
Turk, might be involved.  Do you know a vampire that might be going by that 
name?"

"No," he said slowly.  "But, you know how easily names are changed.  What 
else do you know about him?  Do you have a description?"

Nick shook his head.  "I was hoping that you might use your skills to help 
me learn something about the deceased, at least."

Merlin shrugged.  Researching mortals wasn't much fun, but neither was it 
challenging.  After getting a few details from Nick, he began to hack away, 
a useful skill he had developed to perfection.  Nick had scarcely drained 
his glass before Merlin had the access he sought.

"Alvin Jacobs' sister was Bonnie!" Merlin exclaimed.

Nick stared blankly.  The name Bonnie Jacobs didn't ring any bells for him.  
"Why?"

Merlin whistled through his crooked teeth.  "Sweet Baby Bonnie.  She was 
Herman's newest progeny.  Such a pretty little thing, but she was staked 
while still in her infancy."

Nick choked.  "She was a vampire?"

"Are you all right, Nick?  You seem a little dull-witted tonight, of course 
she was a vampire.  So that's the link. How does that affect our Alvin, and 
put him in a vampire's path?"

"Do you think Herman would have done it, for revenge," Nick asked, thinking 
aloud.

"Herman would not have been careless," Merlin snapped.

Nick started to pace.  It seemed that something about this case must be 
obvious, but he wasn't getting it yet.  "Alvin has a job, a home, and a 
sister.  Then she changes, becomes a vampire... maybe Alvin finds out the 
truth.  Maybe they were more than just close."

Merlin listened, enjoying the tale, whether there was any truth in it or 
not.

"Some humans develop a closeness," Nick continued.  "Merlin, how old was his 
sister- when was her birthdate?"

Merlin returned to his screen, searching for the public records.  "Date of 
birth was February 10, 1966."

"The same as Alvin's!  He called her his younger sister, but in fact, she 
was the younger twin!"  Nick lifted Merlin's gift bottle and absently 
refilled both glasses.  "So, Alvin suspects the change in her, through 
whatever bond the twins shared.  Did he stake her?  His own sister?  That 
would make him a target for any vampire.  But, it doesn't quite hold, not if 
he loved her."

"Where did he work?" Merlin questioned.

"He was a teacher at Louisiana Tech, a junior college, and was studying for 
his Ph.D."

Merlin then broke in to the college's computers and accessed Alvin's email.  
Luckily, the man had set his mail to retain a copy of all sent documents, 
and the seldom-used account still held the out-dated mail.  For the next two 
hours the vampires poured through Alvin's private mail, learning more about 
the man than Nick would have ever believed possible.

The oldest letters were unimportant, except to show how much he loved his 
sister, a fact Nick already suspected.  Then, after her conversion, Alvin 
started to seek new email buddies.  Some of them used the word "vampire" in 
their nicknames or email addresses, which made Nick smile.  A true vampire 
would never do such a thing.  Apparently, Alvin was searching for vampires 
online!  Many of those letters were cryptically brief, until Alvin located 
one called "spvh".  Inside the message they learned that the name was an 
anagram for "Saint Paul, Vampire Hunter".

Merlin shivered visibly.  "Your man had some dangerous friends, Nick."

Nick read further.  "It looks like Alvin was only trying to find help for 
his sister, not kill her."

"True.  But he unwittingly led the hunters right to her.  I wonder if he 
ever discovered his error."

Nick sighed.  "So, we now have uncovered more or less, the mystery of his 
sister's demise.  That still doesn't help us with his killer."

Merlin agreed.  "And, charming as this is, I'd rather you left before 
sun-up.  I'll search a little while longer.  Stop by tonight before you go 
to work, and I'll tell you if I've learned anything new."

Nick got up to leave, rubbing at a stiffness in his back.  Maybe Urs would 
rub it for him?  The thought brought a wave of anticipation, and he had to 
turn away to conceal his arousal from the elder.

"And Nick," Merlin said.  "Bring another bottle with you.  That one seems to 
be empty."


Waltz in the Sky, 06/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Urs drifted through Nick's loft, feeling it's gloom and loneliness like a 
curse.  He'd acted so angry last night, shutting her out lest she discover 
his fear.  He had told her to leave.  Urs quietly flew to the church and 
spent the night with Vachon, where she learned at least part of the story.  
Tracy and Nick were both in trouble, and LaCroix was on a warpath.

She'd been nearly asleep when she was awakened by strange feelings.  Somehow 
she knew what Nick was going through.  She wept for him, wishing he had 
allowed her to stay with him.  She could have offered him solace after his 
master left.  But she also sensed Nick's need to be alone.

Tonight she had returned to his loft, not permitting herself to indulge in a 
petty sulk to wait for him to apologize.  She tidied up a bit, straightening 
the furniture that had been tossed about in their battle.  Tonight she 
couldn't sense him.  Maybe because she hadn't shared his blood recently, or 
maybe it was only strong emotions she could sense, but Urs didn't mind.  She 
knew he would be returning shortly, and she would just wait for him.

When she heard the unmistakable sounds of his caddy as it rumbled into the 
garage, she quickly flew into the bedroom and shed all of her clothes, then 
wrapped herself only in his silk robe.  She returned to the lift and waited 
for him to emerge.

Nick looked so tired.  He smiled at her sheepishly, and Urs went to him, 
hugging him warmly.  His arms went around her, he nuzzled her neck, but she 
could feel his exhaustion.  She would still have to wait.

She helped him to undress and then helped him to bed.  There were no angry 
recriminations that he had avoided her last night, no accusations or 
righteous indignation.  Only patience and love.  Nick knew he should 
apologize to her, but he was just too tired.  He'd make it up later.

Urs gently massaged his back, rubbing at the tightness between his 
shoulders, keeping her motions soothing.  She heard his breathing slow and 
nearly stop, felt his thoughts slow as well, until she knew he was asleep.

Urs let him nap.  He looked so worn out and she wanted him fully recovered.  
Still, as she cuddled up against him, she longed to wake him.  She ached for 
him.  For an hour she held him.  Then, her patience had reached its limit.  
She breathed softly into his ear.  Stroking the sensitive skin at his throat 
with a long fingernail, she watched the sleeping vampire slowly respond.

He slept like the dead.  His eyes remained closed and his breathing almost 
non-existent, but his body responded.  One arm crushed her to him in a 
dream-filled embrace.  She felt his arousal press against her.  She nuzzled 
at his neck, then licked the tender spot over the jugular as her fangs 
descended.  Finally, she nipped him.

A growl issued from his throat as his eyes opened, glowing red embers of 
desire.  In one swift movement he traded places, pinning her beneath him.  
He grasped her hands in one of his and held them above her head, then used 
his free hand to trace the smooth line of her throat.

Urs smiled shyly.  "Good morning, Nicky," she whispered.

"So is it time to play?" he said huskily, nipping her lightly with his 
fangs.  She gasped, struggling to free herself that she might embrace him in 
her desire.  Nick laughed.  "Who now is the prisoner?  What do you plead?"

"I plead guilty, my love," Urs said.  Her arms were still immobile, but she 
squirmed her hips against him.  "Take me!"

In a swift thrust, Nick buried his fangs in her throat and drank hungrily of 
the love she offered him.  He released her hands then, and turned to bare 
his own throat to her.  Urs completed the circle, taking in his sweet 
essence, the taste of honey and wine.  They drank until their passion 
exploded and they lay weak and contented in each other's arms.

"Good morning, Urs," Nick said.

She saw the tears pool in his eyes, and reached into the memories of the 
blood kiss they'd just shared.  He was overwhelmed with guilt.  Guilt for 
turning her away last night, guilt for the renewed tensions between him and 
his master, guilt for the dead mortal, and even guilt for the vampire 
responsible.  Misappropriate guilt, she realized.  Except for his 
relationship with his master, he had done nothing wrong.  Quickly she tried 
to reassure him.

"I love you, Nicholas Knight de Brabant!  Don't ever doubt that!"

"I'm sorry about last night," he began, but she shushed him with a kiss.

"Don't be.  I love it when you share a bed with me, but don't feel guilty 
for the days you chose to sleep alone, my love.  I will be here when you 
want me."

He blinked, but the tears still slipped out.  Urs licked at them lightly.  
Was it the guilt that made him taste so sweet?  But he had had enough 
self-recrimination to last an eternal lifetime, and she vowed she would not 
add to it.  No matter what transpired between them in the future, she would 
love him enough to let him go.  She would only love him.  At some point, he 
would chose to move on, as such was their way.  She would not hold him back, 
nor even consider walking into the sun to end her misery, as he would feel 
guilty about that as well.  No, her gift to him would be to find happiness, 
that she could love him as he was meant to be loved.  As he needed to be 
loved.

Nick hugged her then.  "Thank you," he whispered.  He yawned and his eyes 
grew heavy.

"Sleep, my love," she cooed.  "Rest well..."





Nick went inside the Raven and waited at the foot of the stairs.  When Tracy 
appeared, he looked behind her at LaCroix, striving to keep his expression 
neutral.  The ancient returned a cold, blank stare.  Tracy glared at Nick.  
One of them would have to make the first move, but the two stubborn vampires 
continued to face off, both wanting reconciliation, and neither willing to 
work towards it.

"Come on, Partner," she snapped angrily.  "Time to go."

Nick drove towards Merlin's in silence.  She got out of the car and followed 
him to the hidden apartment, wondering when he was going to get around to 
clueing her in.  She felt strange.  Something was familiar about this place, 
although she was certain she had never been here before.

"Come in," called a man's voice, even before Nick knocked.

She followed him inside, leaving behind a dark, vacant alley with trash on 
the road.  Inside, there was a long, cement stairway that lead to the living 
quarters below, which were filled with computers and electronic equipment 
that might have put a NASA lab to shame.  She stared, open-mouthed, at the 
technology visible.

The man looked older than Nick, with thinning hair and slightly crooked 
teeth.  He wore wire-framed glasses and was casually dressed, just what she 
would expect from a geeky computer hacker.  Then he took her hand in his and 
placed a kiss lightly on the fingertips.

"Larry Merlin, at your service, Miss," he said gallantly.

"You're a-" she blurted, her mouth moving before her brain, as the familiar 
tingle of a vampire alerted all her senses.  "Uh, you're sweet," she quickly 
replied.

Merlin smiled indulgently at her near lapse in etiquette, but did not make 
any further comment.

"Larry Merlin serves the community," Nick said, wishing now he'd prepared 
her for this visit, instead of wallowing in his misery during the drive.  
"When it is time for us to move on, he will create new names, identities, 
careers, whatever we need to slip in to a new life in another town."

"Handy," she said nervously.  "Are you planning a move?"

Merlin smiled.  "No, he is not.  I am doing him a RARE service, helping to 
solve the Alvin Jacobs case, a service I will not provide in the future."  
He directed his last statement at Nick with a firmness that spoke of his 
authority among vampires.

Nick nodded, accepting the statement.  "Did you uncover anything else?"

"Yes, but not directly related to this case.  I learned that there is quite 
a network of vampire hunters online, and that by linking together, they are 
growing in numbers and becoming more of a threat.  I must leave tonight to 
bring this information before the council.  Action must be taken at once!"

Tracy trembled, as she experienced Nick's fear in a sudden slap of emotion 
before her older brother could recover.  She didn't know enough to be 
afraid.  Vampires were immortal.  What harm were some mortal hunters?

Nick gave him the bottle he had requested.  He had had to purchase this one, 
as he wasn't about to ask LaCroix for anything.  "Thanks, Merlin.  Safe 
journey."

Tracy followed Nick back towards the caddy and reached out with her senses 
to try to understand him.  He seemed conflicted- fear, anger, passion, and 
guilt warred within him.

"Nick?" she asked.  "What danger are hunters?"

Nick was silent until they were inside the car, the windows and doors 
closed, and he started the engine.  Then he turned to her with a serious 
look.  "They are deadly," he said.  "They know our weaknesses, and often 
prey upon us while we sleep, when we are most vulnerable.  They come in a 
pack, with wooden stakes, holy water, garlic oil, and anything else their 
twisted minds can think up, and take us out.

"Vampires cannot even report the murder of one of their own.  There is never 
a body left behind for evidence, since at death, we become nothing but ash.  
We are not protected by mortal laws.  We depend on one another more at such 
times than ever before, and yet, fear of hunters often scatters vampires 
into hiding, into small isolated groups that are more vulnerable than ever 
to the danger of the hunters."

Tracy stared, wide-eyed, at his explanation, and felt a growing sense of 
fear herself.  "Do you think there are hunters in Toronto?"

Nick shrugged.  "I don't think so.  It's possible.  But Alvin Jacob's sister 
was killed by hunters in Louisiana.  Now he's dead, from a vampire bite.  We 
still don't know why he came here, though."

They arrived at the precinct, neither laughing nor arguing, and the gossip 
was fuddled to know why.

Tracy couldn't stop thinking about her mortal father.  He had spoken to an 
unknown "Turk", and talked about paying him money to do a task.  It bothered 
her.  She worried at it, and wondered how she could get access to her dad's 
bank account.  It was certain no one in the police department would give her 
permission; they were too intimidated by him.

"Nick," she asked, pitching her voice too low for mortal ears.  Being a 
vampire had some wonderful benefits.  She and Nick could hold very private 
conversations even in a crowded room.  "You're not getting anywhere with 
Jacobs.  Maybe we need to try a new tack?"

Nick scowled.  That Tracy was right didn't make him feel any better.  "Like 
what," he grunted.

"We should check out my dad, and that Turk he talked to."

Nick shook his head.  "Not a wise idea, to investigate the commissioner.  
And his conversation might not have anything to do with this case."

"We won't let anyone know we're investigating him," she insisted.  "But I 
have to know.  If he's not involved, I will feel so much better.  Please?"

Nick thought about it, then nodded.  She was right about one thing.  He was 
getting nowhere.  "Come along," he said as he grabbed his coat.

Tracy grinned.  Nick had told her that she couldn't help with this case, and 
yet he invited her along.  Well, he must have felt that her dad's house was 
safe enough.  And it was.  LaCroix had forbidden her to see her birth-dad 
again, but it was Thursday.  He wouldn't be home for hours.

Nick parked several blocks away from the commissioner's house and they 
walked the remaining distance, keeping to the shadows.  The house didn't 
look empty.  There were lights on in three rooms, a radio or TV playing.  
But their sensitive ears could not detect a mortal heartbeat.  Nick was 
ready to force open the lock, when Tracy showed him the key.  Quickly, they 
both went inside.

A swift search through the house didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, 
except that Commissioner Vetter seemed to live on more money than he earned. 
  Nick had suspected the man was involved in some schemes, but had no proof.

Tracy went to the computer in the den and brought up her dad's email.  
Nothing there of interest.  He must have a second, private account.  Nick 
searched through closets.  He found dozens of firearms which seemed 
strangely similar to ones that had "disappeared" from lock-up.  Was Vetter 
reselling them on the black market?

They worked for over an hour, so deep in thought, that neither had heard the 
car approach, until Vetter was at the front door.  Tracy gasped, her face 
paled and her heart beat twice.

"Nick, we've got to go NOW!" she whispered.

Nick shook his head.  "I think I should question him.  Maybe with a little 
hypnotic push, he'll tell us what we need to know?"

"I- I can't!  LaCroix forbid me to see him again!"

Nick grinned.  "So close your eyes."

Tracy gulped, staring at the older vampire in disbelief.  Then, she did as 
he suggested.

Vetter slammed the door and glared at the two detectives in his house, an 
angry threat already on his lips.

"Tracy, what-the-hell is this about!  Is this a social visit?  You know I'm 
not home on Thursdays!"

Nick interrupted him, speaking in a soft, soothing voice.  It took a while 
to capture the commissioner, and Nick was afraid for a few moments that he 
would be a resistor and Nick's life as a cop was going to be over shortly.  
But then Vetter grew silent and compliant, responding to all of Nick's 
suggestions.  He sat down and told them what he knew about Alvin Jacobs.

"He was sniffing after my baby," he said.  "Asking questions.  Suggesting 
she was into something evil.  Said she was possessed, and he was going to 
free her spirit.  I warned him to stay away from her.  He continued to 
pursue her, and I paid Turk to get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?  How?" Tracy gasped, still keeping her eyes covered.  She 
turned her back to the man, to further ensure she didn't just forget.

"Turk's worked for me twice before.  Usually gets rid of the bodies real 
nice."

"Where can I find this Turk?" Nick asked.

Vetter was silent.  Nick asked him again, but Vetter didn't have an answer.

"When I want to reach him, I put two lamps on in the east window.  Then, the 
next night, I go to Brooks Park over on seventh, and he arrives.  I've never 
called him.  He calls me only from phone booths.  And he's always paid in 
cash."

Nick directed him to put the two lamps on, then to forget everything that 
happened and go to sleep.  Taking Tracy's arm, he led her back outside.

Tracy shuddered.  "I know he thought he was protecting me, but I can't 
believe that man is really my father," she said disgustedly.

Nick put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.  "He isn't anymore, 
Trace.  Let's get back to the precinct."

She remained quiet.  Nick heard her yawn twice and decided to detour pass 
the Raven.  Maybe she should knock off early.

LaCroix greeted them at the backdoor, a questioning look on his face.

"She's kind of upset," Nick explained.  "We went to the Commissioner's 
place, and found out some things she'd rather not know."

"I told you never to see him again," LaCroix hissed, glowing red with anger.

"She didn't see him," Nick said firmly.  "I told her to shut her eyes."

For a tense moment, no one spoke.  LaCroix stared at his progeny.  Tracy was 
frightened of him, but also very upset.  Nicholas seemed defiant, almost 
daring him to fight.  Well, Nicholas must have felt it important to 
investigate the commissioner, and he had been told not to leave Tracy alone. 
He had obeyed the command, even if his attitude was a little cocky.  LaCroix 
touched Tracy's chin and brought her face up to look at him.  "Perhaps 
Toronto is not big enough for two Vetters?" he asked gently.

"Please don't kill him, sir," she asked softly.  "I know he's a crook, but I 
just don't feel right about it."

LaCroix brought her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head.  "Then 
perhaps he will take an early retirement and move someplace further south.  
Where it is sunny?"

LaCroix observed his son's actions as he comforted Tracy.  A look of 
longing, and maybe jealousy, came to Nicholas.  LaCroix released Tracy and 
told her to go to bed.  Then turning to his son, he hesitated.  "Nicholas, 
I...."

Should he apologize?  He knew it was what the boy waited for.  He had been 
too harsh on him again, but damn it!  The boy always made him lose his 
temper.  800 years, and Nicholas was still so defiant and obstinate!  He 
would have to learn, or they would continue to battle one another.  He 
hardened his voice.  "Good night, Nicholas."

Nick swallowed the thickness in his throat.  LaCroix had been so tender with 
Tracy.  Why couldn't he be with him?  Did he love her more?  Because she was 
a girl?  Or she was younger?  Did she taste better?  But once again LaCroix 
was turning him away, and he would go and comfort her.  Nick blinked 
quickly, trying to summon up enough anger that he wouldn't humiliate 
himself. Turning sharply, he left the Raven, slamming the door behind him.





LaCroix found Tracy waiting for him in the living room, her anxiety level 
running high.  "You are afraid," he observed calmly.

She shifted on her feet awkwardly, reminding him at once of his obstinate 
son.  She stammered, trying to explain that she had meant to leave as soon 
as the commissioner returned, but then she heaved a sigh and faced him 
bravely.  "It's my fault.  I knew what you meant when you said not to see 
him again.  I'm sorry."

He considered her thoughtfully.  He had told her that disobedience would 
always be punished, and he always kept his word.  Yet, she was owning up to 
her mistake, not becoming obnoxious and belligerent, as Nicholas was wont to 
do.  "I believe that you have learned, my dear, and so I will overlook this 
infraction."

He felt her relief as a wash of elation that bubbled over into foolishness.  
She lunged into his arms and kissed him gratefully, making him regret his 
moment of weakness already.  She was fairly bursting with enthusiasm that 
was most annoying.  "Perhaps you would like to spend an hour in the Raven 
tonight, to unwind before we begin our next lesson?"

"Cool!  Great!  Let's go!" she said.

"I will be in the soundbooth," he said, removing her arms from his neck.  
"Do you think you can behave yourself in a bar crowded with vampires?"

"Sure," she said.

"I will be keeping an eye on you.  Do not disappoint me."



Tracy decided to change quickly, pulling on a top that was much too 
revealing to ever wear to work.  It was a snug-fitting shirt that laced up 
the front.  She left the laces loose, baring her neck and much of her 
shoulders.  Then she bounded down the stairs and into the Raven.

As a mortal, she had always thought it was too dark.  Now the lights were 
just comfortable.  Vachon's band was playing softly.  Patrick grinned at her 
and poured her a glass- still the pure uncut variety.  Tracy accepted it, 
wishing LaCroix would let her sample the bloodwine soon.  It wasn't like she 
was on duty or anything, and she'd turned the legal drinking age years ago.

She took a table near the stage and smiled at Javier while he played.  Many 
of the vampires in the bar smiled at her, but no one came to talk.  She 
watched them, wondering if they were just afraid of LaCroix, or if she was 
not pleasing to them as a vampire.   The insecurities surprised her, 
reminding her of junior high.  Maybe, becoming a vampire was like being 
reborn in more ways than one.

One waitress stopped briefly and refilled Tracy's glass, then left the 
bottle on the table with her.  Tracy looked at her questioningly.

"It is a gift," Rita explained.  "From the elder in the back corner."

"Uh, thanks.  I guess," she said awkwardly.  She tried to look around the 
bodies, but couldn't really see any elders.  Besides, she didn't want to 
meet them without LaCroix around.  Nick was afraid of anyone older than him, 
and she was beginning to respect his years of experience.

She sipped the beverage, then her eyes widened with surprise.  It was very 
different!  It was sweeter, fruity, cut with wine.  She took a bigger sip, 
and her eyes smarted as she swallowed.  Her stomach lurched once, but the 
wine stayed down.

Vachon took a break and came to join her.  "Querida," he whispered in her 
ear.  "What brings you here tonight?  You off for good behavior?"

Tracy giggled.  "I think I'm driving the old man crazy," she said 
conspiratorially.

Vachon cocked an eyebrow at her.  "You aren't afraid he'll overhear you?"

"He's doing his show," she said, and swallowed more of the bloodwine.  It 
seemed stronger now than she'd ever recalled alcohol being before.  "And 
Nick's at work, so all my babysitters are busy.  Want to cuddle?" She 
snuggled close to him and nipped at his earlobes.

Vachon's fangs erupted at once, but he put firm hands on her and held her 
back.  "Tracy.  Not here, love."

"But I've missed you," she whispered, moving closer again.

Vachon got to his feet and took her hand.  Tracy grabbed her bottle as she 
followed him.  He slipped through the hallway towards the back and pulled 
her inside a small room.  Its purpose was lost on Tracy.  There was a window 
and a tacky couch, but little else.  If it was for storage, then the bar was 
drastically low on supplies.

Vachon kicked the door closed and pulled her into his embrace.  Tracy forgot 
about everything then except her Spanish lover.

By the time Vachon's band came banging on the door to demand he return to 
the stage, they had drained the bottle.  Vachon giggled, slightly 
inebriated, and staggered into the hallway.  "Later, Querida," he said, 
slurring his words slightly.

Tracy waved at him; her arms felt heavy and clumsy.  She rolled to her knees 
and struggled to get up.  Maybe LaCroix wouldn't mind if she went up to bed 
early?  Her head was hurting.  How much alcohol was in one bottle of 
bloodwine?  She couldn't remember ever feeling this affected, even from the 
wapatuli parties in college.

Once back in the bar, though, she slunk into her former chair and enjoyed 
the band.  The music seemed louder tonight, and freer.  Vachon smiled openly 
in her direction as he played and she had the sensation that he was playing 
just for her.

The crowds shifted, most of the mortals had left.  She could see the elder 
vampires now, and the man was staring at her.  Tracy waved cheerfully, then 
decided she'd go thank him for the bottle.  Her legs didn't quite want to 
obey, though.  She tipped over a chair on her way, and when she reached 
them, she fell into his lap.

"Hi there, Mister," she said loudly, her fangs fell into place as she 
grinned up at him.  "Aren't you good-looking.  I love a vampire with a 
beard.  Who's the mummy with with you?"

Corda jumped to her feet.  "Insolent whelp!  You go to far!"

Tracy laughed, looping an arm around Caspian's neck.  "Is she your master, 
mister?  Can't have a little fun?"

Caspian stood up then, dumping Tracy on the floor.  She sat for a moment, 
confused, before she struggled back to her feet.  Her head felt muzzy.  She 
couldn't sense these vampires, nor could she sense her master.  She yawned 
widely, wishing someone would put her to bed.  It was such a long way away.

Corda grabbed her by her shirt front and slammed her into a wall.  The music 
stopped.  All the patrons turned to watch the altercation.  Tracy cried out, 
as the sudden movement sliced her lip on her fangs.  Corda had her sharp 
teeth out as well, and it looked like the angry woman was going to bite her. 
  Tracy squirmed, trying to get free from her grasp.  The party was over, as 
far as she was concerned.  "LaCroix!" she cried.

LaCroix was there, seething with rage.  Tracy felt blood tears slip down her 
face.  She'd messed up again, somehow, and made him angry.  If only she 
could turn the clock back a few hours!  "Master, forgive me," she whispered.


Waltz in the Sky, 07/14
By Lorelei Sieja

"What is the meaning of this," he demanded, a white-knuckled grasp of 
Corda's shoulder prohibiting her rape of his child.

"Your offspring are incorrigible," Corda shouted.

His hand shot out.  Tracy blinked, and would have ducked if she could have 
moved.  But he didn't strike her.  Instead, he flicked one of her tears with 
a finger and tasted it.  "Bloodwine," he stated.  "Where did you get this, 
Tracy!"

"It was a... a gift, from him," she stuttered.  Her head hurt.
"You give an infant wine, then dare to complain when she acts like a fool!  
Get out of my bar!  Now!"

Corda glared at him.  Caspian was carefully expressionless as he looked from 
his sister to his one-time friend.  He tugged on Corda's sleeve, but she 
didn't move.  He put both hands on her shoulders then and shook her firmly.  
"It is time to go," he said.

Corda tightened her hold on Tracy, leaving bruises on her shoulders, then 
released her.  Tracy's knees gave out and she would have fallen, but LaCroix 
caught her.  His arms felt strong and protective.  She laid her head against 
his shoulder, wondering if she closed her eyes if the spinning would be 
better or worse.

LaCroix stared at at the door until Caspian and Corda were gone.  Then he 
turned to the band.  "I don't pay you to gawk.  The side show's over, 
everyone."

Vachon started another song, and slowly, Tracy heard the muffled noises of a 
dozen conversations.  LaCroix carried her up the dark stairs to his 
apartment.

"I'm sorry, dad," she cried, the tears flowing again.  "I don't know what 
happened.  I'm so sorry!"

He carried her into her room.  He pulled the covers down and laid her in her 
bed.

"You aren't mad at me?  Aren't you going to punish me?"

LaCroix chuckled.  "My dear, my anger was with Caspian, not you.  And you 
will punish yourself enough in the morning.  Now get some sleep."

Tracy sat up, although the motion nearly made her upchuck.  "I'm really 
sorry," she whispered.

His chin lifted in acknowledgement.  "Good day, Tracy."


The following afternoon Tracy understood fully what LaCroix had meant.  Her 
head was splitting, and she spent half an hour in the bathroom vomitting up 
the wine.  She felt like crying, but was too weak to spare the tears.  There 
was no way she could go in to work feeling like this!
A knock sounded at the door, then LaCroix stepped inside the tiny, 
immaculate, seldom-used washroom.  Tracy winced at the noise he made, but 
dared not complain.

"Come, child.  Have something to drink," he said, offering her a glass.

Tracy leaned into the stool, as her stomach threatened again.  "You have got 
to be kidding," she groaned.

"No, Tracy.  The blood could not heal you until you had rid yourself of the 
excess wine.  Now, it should make you well.  Come, drink up."

Gingerly, she accepted the glass and forced herself to sip it.  Her stomach 
hurt like a bleeding ulcer, but the blood soothed.  She drained the glass, 
then ventured a timid glance at her master.

LaCroix looked neat as always and slightly amused.  No one should look that 
good first thing in the morning... or afternoon, or whatever hell the time 
of day it was.

He held out a hand and she accepted it, as he pulled her to her feet.  She 
followed him to the kitchen, where he refilled her glass.  He sat and joined 
her in their breakfast.

"Why did it make me so drunk?" she asked.  "I've had alcohol before."

"Blood is our only food," LaCroix explained patiently.  "Nothing else can be 
tolerated.  We have no digestive enzymes, so when we consume anything other 
than blood, it is like poison.  Mature vampires can tolerate wine mixed with 
blood only in small amounts, and fledglings cannot tolerate it at all."

Tracy was silent as she listened.  Again she realized that when she had 
thought that he was being merely bossy and overprotective, he had, in fact, 
been wise and absolutely correct.  She would take his wishes more seriously 
in the future.

"So, why would those older vampires want to get me drunk?"

LaCroix was silent for a time.  Tracy wondered if he was going to answer.  
Then he seemed to come to a decision.  "They are angry with me, and seek to 
hurt me through hurting my progeny."

"Why are they mad at you?"

"It is a long story, my dear," he began, moving with her towards the couch.  
He sat in the corner, one leg folded across the other, and she curled up 
beside him, leaning against his chest.  He wrapped one arm around her 
companionably.

She waited, hoping to hear the story.  She'd gathered from the first 
meeting, before she knew anything about LaCroix, that he wasn't much of a 
sharer.  She would encourage any intimate moment and treasure it.
"I staked one of their siblings a long time ago, and they have never 
forgiven me," he said.

She waited.  There had to be more to the story than that.  "Why did you 
stake him?"

He hesitated, seeming to war with himself on how much to tell.  Then he told 
her all.  "He assaulted Nicholas, when he was still a young fledgling.  I 
killed him in a rage.  Killing another vampire is a serious thing.  Caspian 
and Corda brought me before the council."

"But surely you had every right to defend Nick!" she blurted, looking up at 
him.

His eyes were distant.  He was no longer quite in this century, but reliving 
a past, painful one.  Tracy fell silent and waited expectantly.

"The rights of fledglings were negligible then.  The rape of a fledgling was 
not sufficient cause to kill an elder.  I defended my case before the 
judges, and Caspian was only accorded the right of retribution.  He could 
not take my life.

"So, when you got out of line downstairs, I think he saw his chance to get 
even.  I, however, believe that the death of his brother has already been 
duly recompensed and could see no reason to punish you."

"Am I safe now?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.

His arm tightened around her protectively.  "I hope so, little one.  But I 
do not want you alone, away from either Nicholas or myself.  Do you 
understand?"

"Yes, master," she replied.

LaCroix then made love to her.  Slowly, tenderly, he made her feel 
treasured.  And when she sank her fangs into his throat, he allowed the 
memories of his beating at Caspian and Corda's hands to cross over in his 
blood.  It was not his intention to gain her sympathy, but only to show her 
how dangerous her new community could be.  If his suffering would save her 
from her own foolishness, then the intimacy was well shared.

Later, LaCroix took her hand and lead her on to the roof.  "My dear," he 
began.  There was a surprising tenderness to his voice that made her legs 
weak and her undead heart flutter.  "I believe you are ready to begin flying 
lessons."

Tracy shrieked with glee.  Bouncing on her toes, she threw her arms around 
him impulsively and kissed both cheeks.  "Thank you thank you thank you!" 
she spurted.

LaCroix tugged her arms free and tried to force a stern look, but his lips 
curled in amusement.  "Control yourself, child," he chided.

Tracy stood straight at attention, eager to learn.  "Yes, sir!"

Putting an arm around her shoulders, LaCroix drew her close and gestured 
towards the moon.  "That is the source of light in our world.  Close your 
eyes; feel it on your face.  The light is cool and safe; it will never harm 
you, for it is not real.  It is a mere reflection of the sun's dangerous 
rays.  But the moon is much more to us than light.  It is almost our god.  
Our ancient ones claimed it is the source of our power.  Tradition claims 
that Lilith, wife of Cain, refused to share in his banishment.  She forsook 
him, turned against both God and Devil, and mated with the moon.  She was 
born into a new existence, and became mother of all the creatures of the 
night, but the vampires were her firstborn and her favorite."

"There are others?" Tracy whispered.  She was enjoying the story, and didn't 
want to interrupt the magical spell he wove around her.

"Many others.  Carouche, werewolves... lesser beings than ourselves.  No one 
really believes the tales of our origins, anymore than they believe either 
the myths of Adam and Eve or monkeys becoming men.  But that is beside the 
point.  I have always felt an attraction to the moon.  When frustrations 
mount and troubles are many, a flight before the face of the moon has always 
comforted."

Tracy closed her eyes again and leaned against her master.  She felt the 
soothing balm of his voice, the faint warmth of the cool moon's glow, and 
peace filled her.  She felt LaCroix's presence in her thoughts.  Without 
words, he was instructing her.  She relaxed, letting him fill her.  
Thoughts, sensations, closeness, weightlessness.  Then, he spoke aloud.

"Tracy, open your eyes."

When she did, she screamed.  The Raven was far below them.

She felt herself fall, but LaCroix was there to catch her.  He smiled as she 
clung to him fearfully.

Relax.  Remember.  Let my thoughts instruct you.  LaCroix's gentle coaching 
reminded her, and then she was flying.  He held only her hand now, as she 
flew beside him.  Higher, towards the moon, then they leveled off and flew 
to the edge of the city and out over the lake.
"You will practice your landings over water, my dear," LaCroix informed her. 
  "They can be rather tricky at first.  If you lose control and plunge 
earthward, the water will break the impact.  If you control yourself, just 
above the water's surface, you may fly towards dry land."

Tracy was attentive.  It sounded so easy.  But she splashed into the 
ice-cold water of Lake Ontario again and again.  Being a vampire, she wasn't 
really susceptible to the cold.  She didn't shiver, and hypothermia was not 
a concern, but the cold, wet clothing was very uncomfortable on her 
sensitive skin.  She was getting angry, and her crash landings were coming 
more frequently.

"Enough," LaCroix called.

"I can do this!" she snapped.  "Just let me try again!"

He took her by the shoulders with a firm grasp.  Tracy's heart fluttered, 
but she saw no anger in his face at her disrespectful tone.
"I know you can do it, Tracy.  But the night is over."

He gestured towards the faint light on the horizon.  Tracy had never stayed 
up this late before in all her undead life.  LaCroix took her hand and 
together they flew back towards the Raven, where he held her close and 
landed safely.

On the rooftop Tracy hugged him again.  "Thanks, dad.  This was really fun.  
Can we do it again tonight?"

"Perhaps," he said, returning her embrace.  "Although there are many things 
to learn, and this is but one.  It is also tiring.  Whenever you fly, you 
greatly increase your need to feed.  I need your solemn promise not to 
practice this skill alone.  Plunging earthward can be very dangerous for a 
fledgling.  Your ability to heal is not as developed."

"I promise," she said.  "And I understand now why you waited so long.  I can 
sense you much better now than even last week.  There aren't words to 
describe what you taught me through the link.  I couldn't have learned it 
before."

He smiled his assent.  "Now that you have managed to soak my clothing as 
well, shall we step inside and change?"

Tracy grinned.  She was very hungry, and suddenly she couldn't seem to stop 
yawning.  It had been such an eventful night.  She couldn't wait to tell 
Nick her news!

LaCroix followed her to bed and let her feed from him again.  He said it was 
to revive her after the arduous flight lessons, but she sensed it was 
something more.  He seemed lonely.  Although his actions were satisfying, 
the passion was missing.  It was so different from just last week, when he 
had taken both her and Nick.  She realized then that it was Nick.  
Strangely, she didn't feel jealous.  She knew LaCroix loved her.  But he was 
missing his son, as he had done so much in this century, and Tracy resolved 
that she must see their cold war brought to an end at any cost.



That evening she and LaCroix had their meal together, as was now their 
custom, waiting until they felt Nick's arrival.  LaCroix always felt him 
first, but Tracy was learning to recognize him as well.  She drank heartily, 
having awakened with a major appetite.  Two more shifts, and then she'd have 
two days off.  She might have to wait until then to work on Nick.  But how 
could she stay at the loft without hurting LaCroix's feelings?  And with Urs 
there, maybe she wouldn't be successful?  She could stay with Vachon, but 
how then would she get Nick to realize that he must make amends with his 
master?

"I was wondering," Tracy said, thinking aloud.  "About this weekend.  The 
city is so tiring- all those sights and sounds and trying to block them out 
all the time.  Could I go away somewhere?  Out in the country?"

LaCroix thought a moment before speaking.  "Nicholas owns a small cottage."  
He seemed hesitant to say more.

LaCroix wouldn't ask Nick to use it, since they weren't speaking yet.  Tracy 
suffered for him, but maybe she could help.  "That would be great," she 
said, forcing a cheerfulness into her voice.  "Maybe Nick, Vachon, Urs and I 
can all head up there together.  Would that be okay?"

He scowled and looked almost angry.  "I gave you permission to spend two 
days a week with whomever you choose," he snapped.  He stood and walked away 
from her.

Tracy wanted to comfort him, but knew that would be the wrong thing to do.  
Straining to keep her tone light and bubbly, that he would not suspect her 
ulterior motives, she rambled on.  "And it might give you a chance to see 
Natalie, since you won't have to worry about me."

There it happened again!  She heard his heart beat at the mention of 
Natalie's name!  He cared for her!  Tracy turned to grab her coat while she 
struggled to hide the knowing smile.

"You may present your intentions to Nicholas and seek his approval," LaCroix 
said.  "You have mine."




"I can't believe it is finally Friday night," Tracy stated with relief as 
she climbed inside the caddy.

"I know what you mean," Nick breathed.  He hadn't made any plans for the 
weekend yet, but doing anything besides chasing the deadends after Jacobs' 
killer had to be an improvement.

"LaCroix says you have a cottage somewhere," she said.

Nick scowled.  So he knew about it?  Well, maybe he didn't know where it 
was, yet.

"And I was wondering if you'd take me there this weekend?  And maybe Vachon 
and Urs, too.  I've got to get out of here, and LaCroix says I can go.  
Please, Nick?"  She begged harder, as she sensed his lack of enthusiasm.

Nick glared at her, but couldn't keep an angry face.  She was such an imp at 
times.  "We'll see," he hedged.

"That's great!  Oh, it will be great, you'll see!"  She flung her arms 
around his neck and kissed his cheek.  The car swerved wildly before he 
could get it back under control.

"I didn't promise anything," he warned her.

"It's okay," she agreed.

Nick shook his head.  She only heard what she wanted to hear.  Women!
He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine.  "I'm going to meet 
this Turk later," Nick announced.  "I'll drop you back at the Raven before I 
go."

Tracy shrugged.  "That's fine.  I should pack a few things for the weekend."

He rolled his eyes as he got out of the car.  "I can see why he wants to get 
rid of you for a couple of nights," he groaned, teasing her.


Back at their desks Tracy fidgeted endlessly.  The constant gossiping among 
the other officers was getting annoying.  She'd known it had existed before, 
but it was different now, being able to hear things she was never meant to 
hear.

"Ignore them," Nick advised under his breath.

"Easier said than done."  She heaved a sigh.

A wicked grin split his face. "I think it's time to give the rumor mills 
something new," he whispered, his eyes sparking with mischief.
Tracy grinned.  He was so moody so much of the time that this was a side of 
him she didn't often see.  "Okay.  How?"

Nick lifted the phone and punched in a number.  Tracy grinned as she 
recognized Urs's voice.

"Hi, Urs," Nick said softly.  "I need a favor.  We're going to my cabin for 
the weekend.  Will you and Vachon meet us here at the precinct about 
four-thirty?  And, wear something... leather," Nick said, his voice low and 
sultry.   "We should allow two hours to get there before dawn."

Tracy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream of delight.

"No Urs, Tracy's fine," Nick said.  Urs had heard her muffled scream, even 
though the mortals in the room had not.  "She's just hyperventilating.  Yes, 
that'd be great.  Bye, love."

Tracy uncovered her mouth. "What's great?  Oh, Nick, this is going to be so 
much fun.  I can't wait.  What's your cabin like?"

Reese cleared his throat.  "Ah, do you two still work here?"

"Yes, Captain," Nick and Tracy answered in unison.

He stared at them curiously.  Something had changed in their relationship.  
He'd been hoping Nick would be able to adjust to a new partner after losing 
his last one so tragically, but Reese had been about to give up hope.  Now, 
suddenly, they were thinking alike, answering alike, hell, they were even 
starting to look alike.  If he hadn't already known Commissioner Vetter and 
Mr. LaCroix, he would have suspected that Nick and Tracy shared some genes.

"Well, good," Reese said then, as he saw their expectant faces.  "Then go 
take a look at this body."

Tracy accepted the report while Nick grabbed his coat.  "We're on our way," 
they answered in unison.  Reese just shook his head at their retreating 
forms.



Waltz in the Sky, 08/14

By Lorelei Sieja





Natalie smiled at them.  "I was wondering when you two were going to get 
here," she said lightly.

Nick shrugged, but Tracy moved closer to whisper conspiratorially in Nat's 
ear.  "He wouldn't let me out of the car until I'd fed well," she confessed.

"Well it's a good thing, too.  It's pretty messy," the coroner warned.

Nick stepped protectively between Tracy and the body then, before lifting 
the drape.  A woman around forty years old lay on the carpeting, gunshot 
wounds to the chest and abdomen.  The blood was cold.  It didn't affect him 
at all, but he could hear Tracy behind him.  Her breathing accelerated.  It 
was the sense of adventure, of the hunt, he suspected, and she wasn't even 
aware of it yet.  He dropped the drape and moved closer to Tracy.

"Was she married?" Tracy asked.

Nat nodded, but a uniformed officer answered.  "Not really- they were 
separated a year ago."

"So, we look for the estranged husband," Tracy said, glancing at Nick.

Nick moved away from the body to examine the room.  Already a team was 
dusting for prints and cataloging everything.  Nick didn't interfere with 
them.  Anything they found would be in their report.  He looked for things 
they might not see, using senses they didn't possess.

"So where's her dog?" he asked.

"Dog?" several others asked.  "Did you know her?  What makes you think she 
had a dog?"

Nick thought fast as he looked around.  He couldn't say because he'd smelled 
it's presence, or they'd be calling him "bloodhound" for months, which was 
definitely worse than "knightmare".   His eyes fell on a plate on the 
kitchen floor.  It had been licked clean, but the noxious scent of dog food 
clung to the dish.  He pointed at it.  "Because she's got a dog."

Tracy pulled open a few cupboards, but there was very little in the way of 
food fit for consumption- dog or human.  Then she peeked into the trash and 
pulled out a small empty can of a name-brand dog food.  "Nick's right.  And 
I'd guess it was a little dog.  But either she was planning on moving out, 
or she didn't have much money.  These cupboards are pretty bare.  With 
winter coming, most women tend to stock up."

They spent another half-hour going through the room, then Nick decided it 
was time to take Tracy home so he could keep his appointment at the park.

The park was empty this hour of night at this time of year.  It was a 
smaller park, and the neighborhood had changed.  Once it had been apartments 
and children, now it was mostly abandoned buildings and warehouses.  Now 
only cats dug in the sandbox.  Most of the swings were broken; their chains 
dangled uselessly or were wrapped around the top bar.  There was a single 
streetlight over the parking lot, but the remainder of the park was dark and 
neglected, just like the neighborhood.

He waited inside the car, trying to shield himself from the presence of 
other vampires.  It was something he was not very good at, but with younger 
vampires especially he could succeed.  He still hadn't decided if he thought 
Turk was a young one, or an older one just setting him up.

For over an hour he waited, then he felt the tingle as another vampire 
approached.  No cars drove up.  This vampire was flying in.  Nick growled 
angrily, as he waited for him to arrive.

Just on the other side of the playground, beyond a mortal's ability to see, 
the vampire landed.  Nick got out the car and closed the door.  Then in less 
than an eye-blink, he slammed the other vampire into the trunk of a tree.  
The tree shuddered at the impact.  The young vampire gasped, his eyes golden 
with his surprise.

"You must be "Turk"," Nick hissed.

The vampire stuttered.  Nick tossed him across the playground, flew over to 
haul him to his feet and fling him again.  The younger one was thoroughly 
intimidated.  "Stop, please stop," he begged fearfully.

Nick pulled on his coat front until his feet lifted off the ground and held 
him in the air.  "Who are you!  Where is your master!"

The vampire trembled and his speech was unintelligible.  Nick shook him and 
demanded an answer, but that only further frightened him.  Realizing the 
young vampire was not going to be capable of resisting him, Nick released 
him and let him drop to the ground.

The vampire remained there, bringing his arms up protectively and begging 
him for mercy.

"Answer me!" Nick demanded.

"T-t-t-Trevor!  Trevor Ulrick Kincaid, -- Turk for short," he cried.  "Why?  
What do you want?"

"You've been killing mortals," Nick accused, "and leaving around the 
evidence!"

Turk shook his head.  "No, sir whoever you are, I didn't.  I clean up good.  
I never left anything for 'em to find, honest!"

"What about Alvin Jacobs?"

Red tears leaked from Turks eyes.  Nick felt awful.  He was acting like 
LaCroix, and the realization disgusted him.  He reached out to offer Turk a 
hand but the vampire shrank away from him fearfully.  Stifling a growl, Nick 
reached again and hauled him to his feet.  He observed the other carefully.

Turk was 20-20.  Twenty years old by both mortal and vampire age.  He had 
red-brown hair, green eyes when they weren't filled with red tears or amber 
lights, and a childish dimple in one cheek that winked in and out of sight 
when he spoke.  He was shorter than Nick by nearly a head, but broad 
shouldered.  He might have played high school football as a mortal, but he 
didn't seem like he'd have made the team in college.

Now his stomach rumbled hungrily, and the amber lights of his eyes further 
announced his discomfort.  Nick reached out with his senses and guessed the 
young Turk had not had a full meal in several weeks.  Had Alvin Jacobs been 
an act of desperation?  Nick could remember going hungry in centuries past, 
and how LaCroix would feed him his own ancient blood when the pain was too 
severe.  But now, with bloodmobiles and places like the Raven, vampires 
should not have to suffer any more, even though modern technology also made 
their life more difficult.

"Where is your master," he asked again, this time controlling the volume of 
his voice.

Turk lowered his eyes and his shoulders slumped.  "She's dead.  Of the 
Fever."

"How did you survive?" Nick asked then.  Natalie had made the antidote and 
the vampires helped to distribute it around, giving it out to masters to 
treat their children.  But Nick hadn't known this Turk, and no one at the 
Raven seemed to know him either.

"When she first heard about the fever, she locked me up, kept me safe.  She 
filled the room with bottles, then went away, promising she'd come for me.  
But she must have died.  I stayed in there for weeks, until everything was 
gone, and I was near crazy with hunger.  I don't know where I found the 
strength, but I tore my prison apart and escaped."

"Her name," Nick insisted.  Turk responded better, now that Nick wasn't 
terrorizing him, but his hunger was blocking his ability to concentrate.  
Nick took his arm and led him towards the caddy.  He still had a bottle 
tucked under the seat for Tracy.  It would be a drop in the bucket for this 
starved infant, but it was a start.

"Auriel," he whispered.  Nick heard the pain in his voice.  Being an orphan 
was painful for a vampire.  The instinctive longing for a master drove some 
mad after a while.

"Auriel," Nick repeated.  The golden one.  Her loss was a tragedy.  Nick had 
met her, even danced a few dances with her, over the centuries.  He wasn't 
sure of her age, only that she'd been older than him and younger than 
LaCroix.  Auriel was an unusual name, often used for Roman Slaves, and 
although he'd never been told, Nick had guessed that was her mortal origins. 
She'd been a different master, taking in children one at a time, loving 
them, training them, then granting them freedom.  She never kept them like 
LaCroix did.  Still, locking Turk up at the time of the fever had probably 
saved his life.

Nick pulled the bottle out from the caddy and handed it to the infant.  He 
waited while Turk pulled the cork and drained it instantly.  "So you've been 
orphaned for about three months," Nick guessed.  "And you took up life as a 
hitman."

Turk nodded.  "It seemed like a good idea.  I get to hunt, and feed, and I 
get rent money, too."

"Well, it's a terrible idea," Nick snapped, and Turk flinched.  "I know 
Auriel must have warned you how we must maintain the secret of our 
existence.  Now Alvin Jacobs body lies in a mortal's morgue, with vampire 
bites on his neck, and you are in pretty deep trouble."

"But I didn't kill him," Turk exclaimed.  "Honest!  I didn't!"

"You were heard in a conversation with Commissioner Vetter.  He paid you to 
kill Jacobs.  Don't deny it!"

"I took the money," Turk cried.  "And I was going to kill him.  But, 
somebody beat me to it!  He was missing, and his body turned up dead before 
I had a chance to do it.  But Vetter thought I'd killed him, and I needed 
the money.  I'll give it back, if that's what you want, but I spent some of 
it, I can't give it all back."

"You didn't kill Jacobs," Nick stated flatly.

Turk shook his head.

Nick needed to know for certain.  And the infant was still starving.  He 
hesitated only a few moments before opening the buttons at his throat.  For 
years he had denied himself to share vampire blood, but now, it seemed he 
craved it.  It felt natural to offer to feed the infant, even while 
satisfying his need to know the truth.  He took Turk and pulled him close, 
offering the infant his throat.

Turk trembled fearfully, but he licked at Nick's neck, bringing the vein 
beneath the skin closer to the surface as Nick's blood quickened at the 
erotic gesture.  Then the infant's teeth plunged into him and he sucked 
hungrily.

Nick held him close and waited, feeding the infant before he returned the 
bite.  Turk's blood slowly filled his mouth.  He tasted the hunger and 
loneliness, the desperate need to please and to belong to someone.  Turk was 
innocent of the Jacobs murder.  He had killed two mortals over a span of two 
months, both at the request of the Commissioner, and he'd received less than 
two months rent for his efforts.  The commissioner was paying slaves' wages; 
no other hitman in the country would have done it for that.  Nick pulled out 
of Turk, but held the infant a few moments longer before pulling him away.

The infant seemed embarrassed.  The blood exchange was always so intimate, 
so sexual, and the infant had not fed from any other except his master 
before.  "It is our way," Nick explained.  Although, it was a way he had 
denied himself for so long.  But no more.

"What's going to happen to me?" Turk whispered.

Nick pulled open the door on the passenger side and shoved Turk inside 
before climbing behind the wheel.  "No more killing mortals.  I'm taking you 
to the Raven.  You can stay there until we find a new master to adopt you.  
You will not be allowed to remain unclaimed, until your training is 
complete."

"You aren't still angry with me?"

"No," Nick answered gruffly.  Turk was young and ignorant, but not evil.  
Janette would have taken him in and loved him.  How Nick missed her!  He 
would do all he could to find this stray a home, in honor of her.



The Raven was crowded with mortals celebrating what they called "TGIF", but 
there was a fair crowd of vampires as well.  Nick brought Turk to the bar 
and spoke to Patrick.  "Give him all he can drink of the uncut stock, and 
put it on LaCroix's bill."

Patrick nodded knowingly.  The ancient was not philanthropic, but Janette 
had demanded that he provide for strays.  Nick had just informed Patrick 
that this was a stray, under protection from Janette's phantom presence; 
LaCroix would care for him, whether he liked it or not.

"After you've had your fill, I'll show you where you can bunk down tonight," 
Patrick said to Turk.

Turk turned fearful eyes to Nick.  "Are you leaving me?"

Nick nodded.  He was not going to adopt this one.  Tracy was more than he 
could handle at the moment, and she was only his part-time.  This one would 
drive him crazy quickly.  "I still must find the one who killed Jacobs," he 
explained.  "You will be safe here.  And I will find you a home."

"Thank you," Turk said sincerely.



Nick felt Tracy's approach.  He moved towards the back of the bar to greet 
her at the foot of the stairs.  She carried a small bag over her shoulder, 
and LaCroix kissed her lightly before turning to sneer at the new stray at 
the bar.

"Have you been demoted from detective to dogcatcher?" he asked scornfully.

Nick grit his teeth but refused to be baited into another fight.  "His 
master, Auriel, died in the Fever.  He needs a home," Nick answered.

LaCroix's eyes closed at the mention of her name.  Nick sensed his grief, 
and wondered how well he had known her.

"That is unfortunate," LaCroix said, his voice strangely husky.  "Run along 
then."  And he escaped inside his soundbooth.

Nick led Tracy back to the caddy and returned to the precinct.  The shift 
was nearly over, and they were no closer to closing the case than they had 
been a week ago.  Damned frustrating.  Maybe after two days off, not 
thinking about it at all, he could come back at it with a new perspective.  
Maybe the cottage would be the perfect place to unwind....



A little after four, Nick knocked on Reese's door.  "Uh, Captain?  Here are 
my reports, and I was wondering.  Would it be all right to knock off a 
little early?  I wanted to get out of town for the weekend, and I'd like to 
arrive before sunrise."

"What about you're partner?" Reese asked.  Nick had certainly earned a 
little leniency- he'd put in six years with the force already, and most of 
his sick leave had been taken only in the last few months.  But Tracy would 
not be allowed to work alone.

"Um, I'm taking her with me," Nick hedged.

Reese stared at him hard.  He still didn't believe the rumors going around, 
and Nick wasn't blushing.  "Yes, go," he growled good-naturedly.  "Get out 
of here."

Tracy didn't have to ask Nick the verdict.  She cleared off her desk with 
growing excitement.

"Hey, Baby, calm down before you burst something," Nick whispered softly, 
but not soft enough.  Several officers heard his new nickname for her and 
took it to be a term of endearment.  Tracy was about to say something, when 
she felt Vachon's approach.  Nick restrained her with an arm around her 
shoulder, before she could fly off to greet him.

Vachon entered the precinct, his usual scruffy-looking self in black 
leather, but Urs looked fantastic.  Lusciously wrapped in sensual innocence 
and black leather, she was turning heads everywhere.  Vachon had his arm 
around her in a way that was acceptable between masters and children, but 
the mortals stared wondering what the knightmare was going to do to that guy 
flirting with his girl....  Nick just moved to greet them with his arm still 
draped around Tracy.  Then they made a show of trading partners, and 
arm-in-arm, they left, unable to hear any gossip at all, as the mortals were 
speechless.



"I say we take the caddy," Nick insisted.  "There's more room in the trunk 
for cargo."

"You always drive," Vachon argued.  "I say we take the bikes, and take less 
luggage."

Urs smiled at Tracy.  Men.  The bikes were fun, being in the open, the wind 
in her hair, the daring, the small thrill at the imagined sense of danger.  
The caddy would be fun for Tracy, since Nick would insist on driving and she 
and Vachon could have the back seat.  "Does my opinion count?" she asked 
innocently, smiling up at her lover.

The men glared at each other before looking at her.  "Of course," they said.

"I would prefer the bikes, this time," she replied, feeling she had let Nick 
down.

"Me too," Tracy agreed.

Nick shrugged.  "Fine.  The bikes.  But ladies, this is the size of the 
saddlebags.  That is all you bring."

It didn't take long to make the final decisions.  Except for Nick, none of 
them had been to the cottage before.  He assured them that there was a 
sufficient supply in the refrigerator and the cottage was fully equipped 
with bedding, towels, even some spare clothing.  He hadn't been there in 
almost a year, though, and it might not be very tidy.  Urs, being a 
practical sort, packed soap and some new CDs.  Tracy packed games.  Neither 
one of them thought clothing would be important.

When Nick straddled his bike, all thoughts of his caddy were gone.  It was 
as if he had peeled back another layer of the veneer in which he cloaked 
himself, and they were able to meet him on another, more intimate level.  He 
was younger, daring, and wild.  Urs climbed on the seat behind and hugged 
him.  Revving the engine, Nick grinned at Vachon wickedly.

"It's a good thing you're carrying Baby," he said, "or I might just lose you 
on the way!"

"Ha-ha," Tracy complained at his new nickname for her.  She wasn't sure if 
it was better than "Button" or not.

"If you think you can outride me, Knight, you're sadly mistaken," Vachon 
challenged.  And they set off, breaking every speed limit they passed by 
almost double.







Natalie sighed as she finished the autopsy on Professor Dubois.  He had died 
of a heart attack, possibly brought on by thieves that were in his house.  
The perpetrators were guilty of breaking and entering, but not murder.  In 
fact, no one knew who had put the call in to 911, but it must have been the 
thieves, themselves.  Poor Dubois.  He wasn't very old, but poor diet, high 
stress and too much cholesterol killed him at the age of 45.  Not that much 
older than her, she realized with fright.  Life's a bitch, she muttered.

"And then there is unlife," LaCroix said gently, enjoying the way she jumped 
when he startled her.

"Why do you guys always have to do that!" she snapped.

He smiled and offered her a light shrug.  "Because we can."

Natalie stared at him for long moments, awkward in the silence and unsure 
how to break it.  A few weeks ago she would have snapped at him, and they 
would have had a verbal conflict, and then he would be gone, leaving her 
breathless and confused.  She was willing to jump to the breathless part and 
leave everything else out.

"So how are you tonight," she stammered.  It sounded really dumb.  Vampires 
were never sick, they never aged, nothing really hurt them.  How else would 
he be but the same as he was last night?  And all the nights before?

Only, LaCroix wasn't laughing at her.  His patrician features were smooth, 
neither contorted with rage nor mirth, but something about the eyes was 
different.  A loneliness, perhaps, that she'd not noticed before.  She was 
probably wrong, reading mortal feelings into this unmortal being.

"Nicholas has taken Tracy to his cottage for the weekend.  She was finding 
the constant stimuli of the city overwhelming.  It is strange, that without 
her constant presence replete with annoying habits, my apartment seems a bit 
empty."

"You miss them, huh," Natalie surmised.

"I believe that is what I just said," LaCroix replied with the touch of that 
aristocratic snobbishness that she associated with him.

She smiled.  "So, you came over to the neighborhood morgue for a bit of 
entertainment?"

His eyes widened with surprise.  She had ruffled that cool exterior!  This 
was something to remember!

He stammered.  "No, that was not my intention."

Natalie watched as he backed away from her, and feared he would leave 
without saying whatever it was he had come here to say.  If she didn't act 
soon, he would be gone.  And maybe forever.  She knew that guilt or honor 
would not hold LaCroix here, as it did Nick.  Did she want him to stay?

She closed the gap between them.  "Is there something you wanted?" she 
asked.

He grew very stern.  "I came to ask if you would like to attend the concert 
with me tomorrow evening."

"I'd love to," she said quickly, against her better judgement.

The sternness left at once.  A smile touched his eyes, even if it didn't 
quite reach his lips.  "The concert begins at 8.  I will come for you by 
7:30."

She nodded her agreement, too stunned to speak at the moment.  Then he left 
as silently as he had arrived.

What was she getting herself in to?  She sure had strange tastes in men!  
The only mortal date she'd had in the past few years had been a rapist 
murderer.  The others had all been vampires.  Nick, of course, and one 
near-fatal date with Spark, and now LaCroix.  "Girl, you have to go out 
more," she chided herself.


end, part 8.



Waltz in the Sky, 09/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Nick didn't know how Tracy managed to nap on the motorcycle, with the crazy 
way Vachon drove.  He hit every pothole he saw, thrilling at the moments the 
bike became airborne.   Nick rode too fast, too, not even letting the 
speeding ticket he'd received alter him much, but he wasn't reckless.  And 
after a time, he didn't want the trip to ever end.  Urs was cuddled up close 
behind him.  He could feel her breasts pressed against his back, her breath 
on his neck, the Harley Davidson motor rumbling between his legs.  Life 
didn't get much better.

Still, the faint pink on the horizon made them push even harder.  He didn't 
want to have to ditch their bikes and fly the rest of the way.  The last 
roads were gravel- keeping up a speed of 170 kph would not be possible.  At 
least LaCroix wouldn't be worried about Tracy.  He, like Nick, had assumed 
that there was plenty of time to reach the cottage before dawn.  Neither of 
them had remembered how long women take to pack and get ready, even for 
anything as short as an overnight trip.

Finally the woods parted to reveal the little rustic hideaway.  Nick didn't 
come here often.  He had bought it three years ago, when LaCroix had found 
him again, suspecting that he might need a safe haven from time to time.  He 
didn't think LaCroix knew its whereabouts.  If he did, at least he had 
respected Nick's need for this small privacy.

It wasn't much.  A small, three bedroom log cabin, the kind that was made 
from a kit.  The workmanship was less than stellar, as Nick had done much of 
it himself.  The kitchen was still unfinished.  It had a refrigerator and 
microwave, but no stove, although a small dishwasher had been installed on 
his last visit.  The appliances were neutral colored, unlike the black of 
his loft.  This place was meant to be different.  It was not a 'home away 
from home' but rather, another life.

The walls were a light pine color, the carpet a matching beige called 
"winter wheat".  It had huge windows along the northern wall of the living 
room, where he could see the forest and the stars from the couch.  There was 
no television set.  The reception out here would have been poor anyway.  He 
did have a small stereo CD player.  There was a cast-iron fireplace, but it 
was still unused.  He'd never brought a mortal here to need the warmth, and 
the few times he had hidden here, he had not felt up to the comforting 
sounds of a fire.

Two of the bedrooms were downstairs, behind the living room.  They were 
smaller and adequate, with full-sized beds and dressers.  But upstairs was 
his room.

It was a loft bedroom, which had always appealed to him.  There were 
skylights in the steeply pitched roof that gave him a view of the night sky 
from his bed.  The oversized mattress was round, and made up with satin 
sheets with a velvet spread and dozens of pillows.  He had taken great pains 
to make the bedroom comfortable and luxurious as he had hoped one day to 
bring Janette here.  However, his sister's tastes had always been more 
aristocratic.  She would not enjoy a single day in this rustic cabin in the 
woods.

Urs and Vachon walked around the lower level and smiled their appreciation.  
Tracy stood still in the doorway, her eyes more closed than opened.

Nick brought in the saddlebags from his bike and urged Vachon to do the 
same, before flying through the cabin to make certain all the shades were 
drawn.  He didn't have them on remotes here.  He hadn't even had electricity 
brought in.  He had a small generator for emergencies, and solar powered 
battery cells for general use.  There were only a few electric lights; 
mostly he just used candles.  His thought was to keep this place secret- and 
bringing in power meant creating a paper trail of utility bills that could 
be traced.

Being secretive now didn't seem so important.  When Tracy had first asked to 
come, he had hesitated.  Once she knew where it was, LaCroix would soon know 
as well.  Still, they would enjoy this weekend retreat, and then maybe he 
would sell the cabin.

"Tracy, do you want to drink something before going to bed," Nick asked, 
nudging his sleepwalking baby sister.

"Yeah," she murmured.

Urs took a bottle out of the fridge and smiled at him curiously.  It was not 
Nick's usual bovine product.  He shrugged sheepishly and accepted the glass 
she offered.

Tracy ignored the glass Vachon held out to her, taking instead an entire 
bottle and draining it instantly.  It had the effect of waking her up.  
"This is really great, Nick!  If I had a place like this, I think I'd come 
here every chance I got!  This is so cool!  Will you build a fire?"

Nick rolled his eyes at Urs.  This was the enthusiastic "perky" mode he had 
told her about.  With a playful smirk, he answered Tracy.  "Why, Baby?  Are 
you cold?"]

She was too happy to notice the patronizing tone.  "No.  I just love the 
sound and smell it makes.  Please, please!"

Nick humored her.  He had a large pile of firewood stacked just outside, and 
a basket of pinecones for kindling.  Before long the pungent aroma of hot 
pinesap permeated the air.

Vachon yawned.  Dawn was almost upon them.  It seemed to him that it was 
bedtime, not build a fire and party time, but Tracy had other ideas.  
Rifling through her small bag, she came up with a deck of cards.  She 
plopped down on the floor in front of the couch and shuffled the deck like a 
casino gambler.

"Poker, anyone?"  She smiled her best innocent-look, which might even have 
rivaled Nick's.

"Do you know how to play?" asked Urs.

Vachon snorted.  "What are the stakes, Baby?"

She batted her eyelashes at him, not taking offense at his use of Nick's new 
nickname.  Nick kept silent.  He thought he was watching a con-artist at 
work, and suspected that she knew very well how to play.  Just in case, he 
wasn't going to take off his jacket, although the others already had.

"I thought a game of strip poker might be fun, before bed," she suggested.  
"It shouldn't take long.  You know I probably can't stay awake much longer."

Now Nick was certain it was a snow job.  She'd napped on the trip.

Vachon grinned.  "Count me in."

Urs sat on Tracy's left and Vachon on her right.  "Come on, Nick.  Even you 
have to know this game," Tracy urged.

Nick shrugged.  "I've played a little."  He sat across from Tracy, giving 
her the innocent-look back.

She offered Vachon the cut, then started dealing.  "Five card draw, deuces 
wild."

It didn't take long before Vachon and Urs realized they had greatly 
underestimated the opposition, as they sat completely naked.  Either Nick or 
Tracy had won every hand.  Nick had lost his jacket, shoes, socks, and 
shirt.  Tracy had lost sweatshirt, jeans, and her bra, pulling it off under 
the T-shirt she still wore.  Vachon had called "no-fair", but Nick just 
laughed.

It was distracting, trying to continue the game, while their lovers were so 
near, and so tantalizingly naked.  Nick struggled to keep his eyes on his 
cards or his partner, although Urs was breathing in his ear.  Tracy didn't 
fair much better.  Vachon wanted the game to end so he could take her to 
bed.

"I am not going to lose, Knight," she challenged.

"We'll see, Baby," he said.

She lost the next hand.  She still had shoes and socks, but with a wicked 
grin at Nick she tore off her sweatshirt.  He stared, open-mouthed, as her 
small, firm breasts created yet another distraction.  Two hands later and 
Nick lost his belt, Tracy her panties.

Nick was fighting sleep.  He was fighting against the primal urges his lover 
was stirring.  And now Tracy assaulted him through the link they shared, as 
she brazenly displayed herself before him, recalling how he had touched her 
before.  Her hands went to her own breasts, absently stroking them, as Nick 
struggled to remember how many cards he needed.  In two hands flat, Nick 
joined the ranks of the naked, leaving Tracy the victor.  She jumped to her 
feet and did a victory dance, clad only in her socks and shoes.

"You should have warned me how conniving she was," Vachon pouted 
good-naturedly.

"I hate a poor winner," Nick said.  Grinning, he and Vachon tackled her, 
pinning her to the carpet and started tickling her mercilessly.

"Stop it!  Stop!  Please!" she cried out, laughing hard.

Urs came to her aid, knowing just where Nick was ticklish as well.  
Wrestling naked was not easy, Nick realized, releasing Tracy to face his 
lover. "You're on your own, Vachon," he called.  He grabbed Urs and flew to 
the loft.





Natalie worried all day long, which wreaked havoc with her ability to sleep. 
  What sort of concert would it be?  How should she dress?  Was she really 
stupid to encourage another vampire to become a part of her life?

She searched the entertainment section of last Sunday's paper to see which 
concerts would be playing.  The London Symphony was at the Jane Mallet 
Theater.  There were several rock concerts, and a stand-up comic.  There was 
also a one-man play being performed, but that wasn't a concert at all.  She 
took a guess that LaCroix would attend the London Symphony.  This could be a 
very formal affair.  It seemed to suit what little she knew of him.

It was winter now.  That limited her choices.  She had only two formal 
gowns, and one was definitely for summer.  Maybe she would have time to go 
shopping?  But that wouldn't leave her time to fix her hair.  Well- she had 
plenty of time to make an appointment!

Jumping from bed, she called the beauty salon at the Mall while heading in 
for a shower.  There was no time to waste.  By the appointed time she was 
suitably attired in a sleeveless velvet evening gown of midnight blue, with 
long white gloves, and a small velvet choker at her throat.  Her shoes and 
wrap were white, as well.  Mountains of chestnut hair was demurely piled on 
top of her head with star-shaped sequins sprinkled among the curls, and two 
curling strands hung loose to frame her face.  She felt pretty.  She felt 
like a woman again, and it had been a long time since she'd felt like that.

LaCroix arrived at precisely 7:30, and briefly appeared surprised that she 
was ready and waiting for him.  He recovered quickly though, and presented 
her with a corsage.  Natalie blushed, feeling like a prom date, while he 
pinned the fragrant orchid at her breast.  Then she was escorted to the 
limousine below.

The evening passed in a blur.  He was attentive and polite.  He said the 
right things, touched her just enough to feel prickles of desire, and not 
enough to feel pushed.  The program included many Christmas numbers, 
including selections from Handel's Messiah and Tchaikovsky's oft-played 
Nutcracker.  She glanced at her date, wondering if the music offended him at 
all.  Nicholas seemed to crave religious contact and fear it all at once.

LaCroix simply seemed to be enjoying the music.

"Did you ever meet them," Nat asked, suddenly curious.

LaCroix nodded and gave her a slight smile.  "Yes.  I preferred Tchaikovsky, 
though, but I didn't encourage Nicholas to spend time with him.  He was 
entirely too melancholy, which does dreadful things for my son's usually 
"cheerful" disposition," he said, letting a trace of humor show in his 
voice.

Natalie smiled.  She had heard Nick play his piano on a number of occasions, 
and he did seem to prefer Russian composers, with their sense of the tragic. 
  "The Nutcracker is cheerful, though," Natalie thought aloud.

"Yes.  And Peter Ilich despised it.  He thought it was a trite bit of fluff, 
and later in life he even refused to perform it.  He was much happier being 
miserable with his operas."

She became silent again, enjoying the music and the company.  If she chose a 
life with LaCroix, it would be like a living history lesson.  But Nick had 
made his life with his master sound like a living hell.  She knew they were 
on better terms these days, although she sensed it was not solid.  How much 
of their difficulties was actually Nick's fault?  She had always taken 
Nick's side...  Nat knew Nick wasn't easy to get along with.  He was 
stubborn, proud, passionate, and impulsive- loving one minute and 
thoughtless the next.  Perhaps, she had judged LaCroix too harshly?  Could 
anyone have put up with Nick for 800 years and done any better than he?

After the concert, LaCroix escorted her into the reception area and 
introduced her to some of the musicians.  Natalie was speechless.  They 
seemed to know him, and two even looked a bit pale, like they might have 
known him for a very long time.  When she shook their cold hands, she was 
almost sure of it.  Still, her hands got cold when she was nervous, and 
finding vampires everywhere was a dangerous activity for a mortal, so she 
said nothing.

After the concert, and the limo ride back to her house, LaCroix escorted her 
to the door and kissed her hand goodnight.  She hesitated.  Should she 
invite this very proper, elegant, powerful creature into her humble and 
less-than-tidy abode?  He did not seem to expect it though, as he held her 
hand.

"May I call you again," he inquired.

This was it.  She sensed that at her word, he would either go away and never 
see her again, or she would be committed to a relationship with him.  The 
evening had been perfect.  She smiled up at his blue eyes.  Before she had 
always thought of them as "ice blue"- cold, hard, unyielding.  Tonight 
something was different about them.  They were blue, and still powerful, but 
more like the sky.  Often changing.  Sometimes a clear blue like a summer 
sky, sometimes gray like before a storm.  They were fathomless.  And 
perhaps, just a little lonely tonight.

"I would like that very much," she answered truthfully.

He continued to hold her hand, but slowly move closer.  Very slowly.  One 
glance, and she could break the spell, turn him away, but all she could do 
was to lean towards him encouragingly.  As if in slow motion, the distance 
between them closed.  His lips sought hers.  For one breathless moment, they 
kissed.

"Good night then, my dear Natalie," he whispered.  And he left.  It was not 
a hasty retreat, like Nick had often done after a too-close moment.  LaCroix 
was more in control of himself.  Strange, she thought, watching his 
retreating form.  He was so much more powerful than Nick, but she felt safer 
with him.  He would not do anything he did not plan to do.

"Good night, Lucien," she whispered to the empty hallway.  Although she 
hadn't slept much all day, she suspected sleep would still be a long time 
coming.



LaCroix returned home satisfied.  The evening had been utterly pleasant.  
Miss Lambert was enchanting, even when she wasn't arguing, he realized.  He 
would have to move very slowly, however.  Enough mortal time must pass that 
she would be a more suitable mate for him than for Nicholas.  He loved his 
son, and was not going to let a woman come between them.  Also, she had to 
be certain that this was what she truly wanted.  While fledglings sometimes 
did not adjust well and did not live long there after, this was another 
situation he could not allow to happen.  Besides, Tracy needed him rather 
more full-time.  If he waited half a decade or more, perhaps he would be 
freer to pursue more personal interests.

It was faint dawn by the time he lay in his bed.  Gently, he reached out to 
sense his children.  Janette had grown distant of late.  She was not clear, 
only that she was contented, for Janette.  Next he sought Nicholas.  The boy 
was mirthful, as was Tracy.  They must be enjoying one another, he realized, 
trying to staunch the sense of longing that arose in him quite suddenly.  
They were safe.  And he must find a way to keep them like that.

Sleep would not come to him, though.  Natalie was fine, his children were 
fine, what was it that troubled him and kept him awake?  He tossed about and 
turned again, finally giving up and went in search of some delicacy to 
satisfy his hunger.  Later, sitting alone in his favorite chair by the 
fireplace, he knew what was the matter.  He was alone.

Much later, as he still lay awake in bed, he was struck by a sense of 
longing.  He had been expecting as much from Tracy, and was a little 
surprised he hadn't felt it sooner.  Now as he closed his eyes and tried to 
comfort her over the link, he was startled to realize that it was not Tracy 
he felt, but Nicholas...





Tracy awoke midday absolutely ravenous.  The sun was still high, she knew, 
and the other vampires were all sound asleep.  She often awoke to feed more, 
and usually could return right back to sleep.  Moving carefully, so not to 
awake Vachon, she left the bedroom.

The fire was nearly out.  A few embers still burned and the house still 
smelled that fresh wood-smoke and pine scent.  Inhaling deeply, she tried to 
memorize this scent.  She's have to make sure she had a fireplace in her 
next house.

She went to the fridge and was just pulling the door open when Nick startled 
her.

"Trace?  Everything all right?"

"Geesh, Nick!  I didn't think you could still do that, now that I'm not 
mortal any more!"

He just shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm fine.  You can go back to bed and stop being Big Brother.  I 
often wake up hungry."

Nick got out two glasses and sat at the table.  "I'll join you," he said.

She poured and took a seat.  It was a perfect time to talk to him, she 
realized, without the distractions of the others, but now she didn't quite 
know what to say or how to start it.

Nick actually gave her the lead, unknowingly.  "I'm surprised that LaCroix 
let you come here.  How did you manage to get his approval?"

She smiled.  "I think he was thrilled to get us both out of Toronto for the 
weekend.  He'd probably prefer it if we stayed here until Caspian and Corda 
leave."

Tracy saw Nick wince at the mention of their names.

"I doubt that," Nick said derisively.

"Then you just don't know," she said.  "They mean to do us harm, to spite 
him."

"I sure get tired of bearing the brunt of his interpersonal relationships," 
Nick snapped.  "What did he do this time?"

"You don't know?" she whispered.  "Nick, their brother was Takis."

Tracy was struck with fear so sharp that she broke out in a blood sweat, and 
in the next instant, with a rage that turned her eyes to red.  With 
trembling hands she grabbed her glass and drained it, slowly realizing that 
those emotions were not her own, but Nick's.  His eyes were clenched shut, 
but a soft red glow illumined his eyelashes, as he upended the bottle in a 
vain attempt to calm his beast.

"Nick, I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Forget it.  It was over a long time ago.  It was the night that taught me 
never to count on LaCroix."

Tracy nearly choked.  She had learned the exact opposite, from the same 
story!  "Nick, how can you say that!  He loves you!  He would do anything 
for you!"

"He wasn't there," Nick spat angrily.  "Takis took me, assaulted me, and 
LaCroix did not protect me!"

"And he killed Takis in his rage."

"And then he left!"  Nick rose from the table, pacing restlessly, his hands 
still trembling.  Tracy saw the blood sweat on his brow, smelled it on his 
skin.

"He had to," she started to explain.

"No!  He left me alone.  For a week.  I was hurting, and I needed him.  He 
was nowhere to be found.  A week later, he returned, no explanation for 
where he'd been, and informed me it was time to move on.  Nothing was ever 
quite the same after that."

"Nick, do you honestly think he would have left you alone then if he'd had a 
choice?"

"What else was I to think?  I'm sorry, Tracy.  He's your master now, and you 
have to depend on him.  But forgive me if I don't."

"Nick, don't be an ass," she snapped, getting angry herself.

He glared at her.

Tracy got up and faced him, her hands on her hips.  "He killed an older 
vampire.  I wasn't around back then, but I've been told that killing a 
vampire is a serious crime.  Caspian and Corda brought him before the 

council where he stood charged.  They did not win his life, only the right 
to exact a pound of flesh.  Nick, they beat him severely.  He, being every 
bit as stubborn and pig-headed as you, refused to come back to you until he 
had healed.  And he was too proud to explain that to you."

"So why did he tell you," Nick demanded, sounding a bit less sure of 
himself.

Tracy sighed.  Perhaps it was time for total honesty.  She told him then 
about her run in with the elder pair.  "Nick, he misses you.  Please, make 
things right with him!"

Nick sank back onto a chair.  He stared at his hands, no longer trembling.  
"I don't know if I can."

Red tears slipped down her cheeks.  Nick looked up and brushed at them with 
his thumbs.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No, it's not that," she said quietly.  "I was just struck with this feeling 
of- I don't know.  An empty spot, like I really really miss him and I wish 
he was here right now."

"I know," Nick said.  "That is the link.  A fledgling craves his master.  It 
is part of who we are."

She looked at Nick then, through unshed tears.  "Poor Nick.  You felt this, 
that week, and he wasn't there.  And Poor Vachon.  Do you think he feels 
this longing, since he never really had a master?"

Nick took her into his arms and held her.  "Don't fret for us, Baby.  Come, 
you are just overtired.  Let me take you back to bed."

She leaned up on her toes and nuzzled his neck.  "Let's not go right back to 
bed, Nicky?  Please?"

Nick's fangs fell instantly and he growled low in his chest.  She was the 
most mercurial vampire he had ever met.  She was like a whirlwind, and he 
was dizzy.  Taking her in to the living room, he caressed her, until they 
were both clinging to one another in the after throes of their passion.

Tracy had tried to concentrate on her memories of what LaCroix had passed to 
her in his blood concerning his torture at Caspian's hands, hoping that Nick 
would see it.  She wasn't really sure how this vampire thing worked, and 
concentrating on anything except Nick while he was doing that to her was 
next to impossible.  He was so passionate, so gentle, and so wonderful!  And 
she was thrilled that he was her new brother, as it was a tie that would 
last beyond the centuries.

Nick lifted her and carried her back to Vachon's bed.  She was nearly asleep 
in his arms.  "Sleep well, Baby," he whispered.

"Hmm," was all she said.

Slowly, he found his way back up the stairs.  He'd seen LaCroix in her 
blood.  That wasn't surprising, as she'd been thinking about him just before 
they made love.  But, he'd seen LaCroix, bleeding on the floor of a prison 
cell, hungry and unfed, chained, suffering.  That was unusual and more than 
a little unsettling.  Was it true?  If only his master had told him!  Takis 
had been a vile creature, preying on the weaker, torturing them, raping 
them, sometimes killing them in his depraved violence.  The world was better 
off that he was dead.  But Nick and LaCroix had suffered enough at his 
death.  No one should suffer again.  He would do all he could to avoid 
Caspian and Corda for the duration of their stay in Toronto.  And perhaps, 
it was time to forgive LaCroix for yet another old hurt.

Laying down next to Urs, he pulled her into his arms.  His eyes were heavy 
and he was nearly asleep.  It wasn't Urs that filled his thoughts, though, 
neither was it Tracy.  "Master," he thought.

From the link that tied them over the miles, over the centuries, Nick was 
comforted with an answering thought.  "My son."

End, part 9.




Waltz in the Sky, 10/14
By Lorelei Sieja

An unholy sound shrieked through Nick's subconscious.  He rolled over and 
tried to return to sleep.  He still felt groggy and the bed was so 
comfortable.  But the noise filtered through again, incessant and demanding.

"Snow!  Snow-snow-snow!  Wake up, everybody!"

Urs groaned.  "Do something, Nicky."

"Hm.  I am," he murmured, breathing into her ear.

Tracy burst into his loft room and jumped on top of the bed, shattering a 
romantic moment.  "Get up, lazybones.  It snowed last night, and it is so 
pretty.  Come on, get up!"

Urs sat up and smiled.  "One would think you'd never seen snow before," she 
said.

"I haven't," Tracy confessed.  "Not like this.  Not with vampire vision!  
Everything is so much clearer now, and I can play and not get cold!  Nick, 
let's cut a Christmas tree tonight and trim it!"

Nick laughed.  "Tracy.  Vampires do not celebrate Christmas."

She pouted only a moment, then started tugging the comforter off from them.  
"I know.  I just want a tree.  I already figured LaCroix wouldn't let us put 
one up in the apartment.  So can I have one here?  And we'll come visit it 
on weekends!  Please!"

Vachon came in then, fully dressed and partially awake.  "You might as well 
get up, now, Knight.  No one sleeps after the baby wakes."

Nick grumbled good-naturedly.  "Fine, fine.  A tree.  Baby wants a tree.  
You're going to spoil her, Vachon."

Before long they were dressed and fed, and began to hike through the woods 
in search of the perfect tree.  Tracy didn't want a long needle pine.  She 
didn't want one too small, because it wouldn't hold enough trimmings.  One 
tree was too sparse at the bottom, another was lop-sided.  Their shoes got 
soaked, the wet flakes clung to their hair.  After a few snowball fights, 
and making a snowman, she finally found her tree.  A pretty little balsam 
fir, growing too close between two larger ones, and didn't have much of a 
chance to mature.  Nick chopped it down, and Vachon flew it back inside the 
cabin.

Nick had never put up a tree before.  Tracy had to explain to them every 
step of the process- finding a bucket and some stones to hold the tree 
upright, in the absence of a tree stand, then filling it with water.  Nick 
had no tree lights, but he had hundreds of candles.  She selected the 
smallest ones and wired them to the branches, then they cut paper star 
ornaments.  Late in the night, they lit all the candles and sat around the 
darkened living room to admire Tracy's tree.

Nick felt a moment of melancholy, as he vaguely remembered his mortal family 
and the quiet, spiritual way they had celebrated the Christ child's birth.  
The memories were not clear- not like his near-perfect recall of events 
since becoming a vampire.  He'd suffered amnesia about six months ago from a 
gunshot wound to his head.  LaCroix had been able to give him back many of 
his memories, through sharing blood, but not all.  And his mortal memories 
were probably gone forever.

"Know any songs?" Tracy asked, looking around the cabin.  "What, no piano 
here, Nick?"

"No," he said.  "The cabin is unheated much of the year, which is terrible 
for an instrument- it would always be out of tune.  And I told you, vampires 
don't celebrate Christmas."

Vachon remembered some carols from his childhood, but Tracy didn't know the 
Spanish songs.  Urs said they had never celebrated the holiday as kids.  
Tracy looked glum, finally losing some of her bubbly enthusiasm that annoyed 
Nick.  She snuggled in to Vachon's arms and the four of them sat around the 
couch and shared the silence.  Then, as if on cue, they all started to 
sing...



"I'll be home for Christmas,

You can count on me.

There'll be snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree...



"Christmas Eve is coming

As the twilight gleams

I'll be home for Christmas,

If only in my dreams."







Vachon kissed a tear from Tracy's cheek.  "What's the matter, Querida?" he 
whispered.  "Are you missing your mortal ways?"

"No," she said.  "Well, maybe.  But not my mortal family.  You are all my 
family now.  But this weekend's been great.  I'm kind of said to see it 
end."

"We can come back next weekend," Nick offered.

Tracy stared at him.  Nick, the morose, was suggesting that they actually 
have fun?  "Do you mean it?  Really?"

Urs was already on his lap, kissing him in her happiness.  "The week is 
going to drag by too slowly, now, my love!"

Tracy jumped up from the couch to refill all their glasses, her enthusiasm 
returned, even if exhaustion was still creeping in on her.  "Let's make 
something for LaCroix!"

The others fell silent.  "I don't think that's such a good idea," Vachon 
hedged.

"He doesn't need anything, he's rich," Urs said.

Nick reminded Tracy for a third time, putting more firmness in his voice.  
"He will not celebrate Christmas."

"I know that!  So you've told me!  And I know he can buy what he needs, and 
that you all think he is not a sentimental old fool, but I want to make him 
something, just to show him my gratitude for all he's done for me.  And all 
of you could show him a little thanks, yourselves."

The older vampires were quiet.  Tracy addressed them each.  "Urs, he gave 
you a job.  He's treated you fairly, and he protects you from being harassed 
by the older vampires.  Don't you feel safer in the Raven than any other 
nightclub?"

Urs nodded sheepishly.

"Vachon-- he's tolerated your rudeness, since he knows you've no master to 
defend you.  He doesn't take that crap from any other vampire in Toronto.  
He's hired your band, and he pretty much lets you set your own hours."

Vachon shrugged his indifference, but Tracy felt a twinge of shame from him.

"And Nick, you know you have a lot to thank him for!  And surely you must 
know that you are cherished, and protected.  When's the last time you told 
him thanks and meant it?"

"I think that is a sweet idea, Tracy," Urs interrupted.  "But what did you 
have in mind?"

The two girls talked about a few possibilities, tossing each out as 
impractical or impossible to complete in the time they had left.  "Maybe we 
should all just write him a letter," Nick grumped sarcastically.

"Nick!  You're a genius!"  Tracy exclaimed.  He wiggled his eyebrows at 
Vachon.  It was past time to put Baby to bed.

Urs smiled brightly.  "Yes, he is!  We can all sign a quilt!"

"Exactly!"

Vachon laughed.  "Do they practice this in nursery school?"

"What?" Nick asked.

"That ability to carry on a totally female conversation that no one else can 
follow?"

"Oh, that.  No, I think they're born doing that," Nick said.

"Velvet and satin.  Nick, do you have any?"

"Oh, sure.  I always keep velvet and satin at a cabin.  You never know when 
it will come in handy."  He and Vachon burst out laughing.  Urs punched him 
playfully.

"Nick, be serious!  Christmas is only a little over two weeks away.  We'll 
have to get started right away!"

"So, how much velvet and satin, and what colors, and what are you going to 
do with it," he said, still laughing hard enough that he had to wipe red 
tears from his face.

Tracy held her hands about six inches apart.  "Fabric scraps- no bigger than 
this.  And dark colors would be best."

Nick got up then and went to the loft, the other three following close 
behind.  He disappeared into the deep closet, and came out shortly with six 
evening gowns on padded hangers, the clear-plastic bags from a dry cleaners 
still over each one.

"Oh!  These are gorgeous!" Tracy exclaimed, lifting a velvet hem and rubbing 
it against her cheek.

"Nick, these are too nice to cut up," Urs said.

"Nope.  These are perfect," Nick said.  When the girls looked skeptical, he 
explained their origins.  "These were Janette's.  She'd left them at the 
dry-cleaners when she moved on.  I brought them here, hoping she'd return 
for them eventually.  But, she never wears a gown that's over a year old.  
And what do you do with old evening gowns.  They're hardly appropriate for 
the Good Will, and somehow, I just can't bare the thought of someone else 
wearing them.  So cut them up and make your quilt.  In a way, the gift will 
be from her then, too."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Tracy said enthusiastically.

She took the gowns back down by the fireplace and started to cut them into 
irregular shapes.  Small piles of crimson, black, royal blue, and forest 
green velvet shapes began to form.  Urs cut the satin slip from one gown 
into six-inch squares.  "Here, Tracy. Sign your name on this, and I'll see 
how it looks."

She accepted the pencil, and thought for a minute.  Embroidering all the 
names was putsy, so her message shouldn't be too long, and yet, she had to 
say something meaningful.  "To my father, my friend, and my hero, Love, 
Tracy."

"That's perfect," Urs whispered.

Tracy shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to hide her embarrassment.  "Yeah, 
well, I just wish we could start embroidering them tonight."

"It is past your bedtime already," Nick chided her softly.  "We are not 
going in to the city tonight for thread."

She laughed, even as she yawned.  "That's fine.  Each of you take a square 
and sign it, too.  Then I'll go to sleep."

Urs's message was brief.  "Respectfully, Urs."  Vachon wrote about ten 
words, but would not tell Tracy what they were.  He'd written his in 
Spanish.  Nick thought.  This quilt idea was Tracy's, and seemed so 
important to her.  He was beginning to warm to the idea, too, but wondered 
how the ancient general would accept it.  Would he be pleased?  Or 
embarrassed?  Or merely angry that they marked a mortal custom?  His message 
needed to be nice, one didn't write angry words on a gift.  And it needed to 
be true.  He couldn't write a eulogy to feelings that he didn't share at the 
moment.  Finally, he knew.  In his elegant, medieval script, he wrote: 
"Forever yours, Nicholas."

Tracy kissed him on the cheek.  "That's perfect, brother.  Good night."





LaCroix eyed the elder pair as they sulked in their booth at the far corner. 
  They had seemed almost petulant that his children had not been in for two 
nights.  He was angered as he thought about them bringing any harm to them!  
Nicholas, although no longer an infant, was still so vulnerable.  He wanted 
to be brave, daring, independent, even as he denied himself the very essence 
that would help him achieve his goals.  And little Tracy... he had been 
unsure about adding her to his family, and immediately after the event he'd 
regretted her intrusion, but she was coming to mean much to him.  She was so 
like his son in many ways.  She was emotional, passionate, a golden ray of 
sunshine in the dark.  Yet, there was something unique about her.  She was 
younger, fresh and eager, loving, ... she was distinctly feminine.  He felt 
his undead heart quicken as he considered his children.  He would do 
anything to protect them.

Caspian looked bored.  He seemed to be only half listening to his sister, as 
she complained in his ear.  That made LaCroix smile.  Caspian had been fun, 
once.  He and LaCroix had been best friends back in the second century.  
LaCroix had not liked his sister then, and the years had not been kind to 
her.  She was older than them both, but not by enough years to matter.  He 
had taken her once... which had been a mistake.  She was always coming 
between him and Caspian, and ever since their little brother Takis had 
assaulted Nicholas, LaCroix had had nothing to do with either of them.  
Eight hundred years was a long time to carry a grudge.

"Patrick, hand me the special reserve, from under the shelf," LaCroix said 
at last.

The young bar tender eyed his employer suspiciously before complying.  The 
case of vintage mortal was blended with a potent wine, and the last time 
LaCroix had consumed it had been the only time he had ever seen the ancient 
inebriated and out of control.  Still, one did not defy a two 
thousand-year-old vampire, especially if he was also your boss.  Patrick 
took the key from his pocket, unlocked the door and withdrew the bottle.  
LaCroix accepted it, taking a glass for himself, and went to join Caspian at 
his table.

The other vampire looked up and almost smiled as his one-time friend 
approached.

"Hell and damnation," Corda complained as LaCroix sat down.  "It's getting 
too crowded in here.  It's time to go."

"No," LaCroix said, barely civil.  "It is time to chat."  He uncorked the 
bottle and watched for the reaction as the fragrant scent tickled their 
nostrils.  Caspian's eyes took on the golden flecks.  Corda blinked and 
turned away disdainfully.

LaCroix filled his own glass, then looked questioningly at Caspian.  The 
other pushed his glass nearer.  LaCroix poured his as well, but set the 
bottle down without offering any to Corda.  He knew she was too arrogant to 
ask for it, and she would sit there and stew for hours without allowing 
herself to taste it.  He smiled to himself.  Although women as a whole were 
delightfully unpredictable, Corda was the exception.

"Why are you here," LaCroix asked then, after he and Caspian had each tasted 
their beverage.

Corda snorted.  "What?  We need a reason to sit in a bar?"

LaCroix opened his mouth to snap at her, but Caspian made a gesture.  
"Corda, don't waste our time.  You know what he meant."

LaCroix was surprised.  Caspian had always acted like the baby brother, 
falling behind her shadow and obeying her blindly.  It was the first 
independent thought LaCroix had seen him voice.

"We were sent by the Council," Caspian began.  "Not to investigate you, 
Lucius.  But, there has been so much happening in Toronto recently.  That 
strange fever for one.  And dozens of vampire deaths, including two 
ancients.  There have been rumors of mortals who know about us, besides that 
doctor who cured the Fever.  Your son is still a topic of debate among the 
elders, and the community here has grown quite large- perhaps too large for 
safety.  We are simply to observe and report back.  Nothing more."

"Then why the petty taunting of my children," LaCroix demanded.

Corda started to speak, but again Caspian cut her off.  "I apologize, 
Lucius.  It is over.  And I will be pleased to report to the council that 
your son seems to be changing his ways.  Although I disagree with your 
decision to allow him to be so involved with mortals, he is not breaking the 
code and he seems more contented now as a vampire.  Certainly, you must be 
pleased with him now."

LaCroix nodded to his former friend.  "Very.  And I will not permit anything 
to harm him."

The air was stiff with the implied threat.  Then Caspian nodded and smiled, 
almost looking like the friend he once knew.  "And congratulations on your 
newest child.  She really is quite delightful.  I have been considering 
taking on a child of my own.  Seeing her has deepened my feelings."

"You are a fool," Corda spat.  "Both of you.  Excuse me!"  She got up and 
left the table.  A look of sadness crept across Caspian's face, but neither 
said a thing.  They sat together, finishing the fine wine, deep in their 
memories.  When the bottle was empty and Caspian was no longer quite steady 
on his feet, he rose slowly.

"Good Day, Lucius.  I am sorry that our presence here has been awkward.  We 
do not plan to remain much longer."

"You, Caspian, are welcome to return," LaCroix said firmly, his inflection 
clear that the invitation did not include Corda.  The other made a slight 
nod of acknowledgement before he left.



LaCroix felt mellow.  The wine was affecting him as much as the encounter.  
Once, he had thought of Caspian as a brother.  He'd been alone for nearly a 
century, and Rome was changing.  It was weaker, more corrupt, and under 
constant attack from barbarian invasions.  He was almost ashamed to call 
himself a Roman.  Traveling further south into Turkish lands, he'd 
discovered a new life, teaming with wealth and power just ripe for the 
taking.  Together, he and Caspian had plotted their schemes.  But Corda had 
been jealous.  At first, she had flirted with LaCroix, but when he took her, 
it was Selene who filled his thoughts, the lovely, vengeful prostitute, now 
long dead.  Corda was livid.  From then on, his relationship with Caspian 
became strained, as the other was torn between friendship and family.  
Finally, LaCroix moved on.  Now, he suspected that the family ties were 
choking Caspian.  How much longer would the vampire tolerate her?  It was 
almost a shame that they planned to leave soon.  LaCroix would love to be 
there when Caspian finally turned the tables on that conniving bi*ch.

Caspian's word that his children were no longer in danger was not enough to 
ease LaCroix's fears.  Not as long as Corda still breathed.  He would have 
to keep a careful watch on them when they returned to Toronto.  And if she 
so much as looked at them, LaCroix was prepared to see she never breathed 
again.

He missed them.  As he reached out to sense them, he could feel their 
happiness.  Whatever activity they were involved in, they were both enjoying 
it immensely.  He was glad they were there, safe for the time being, and 
yet, part of him longed to be with them.  Perhaps he could call Natalie...  
but no.  It was too soon.  She might get the mistaken idea that he needed 
her.  And that would never do.  Angry with himself for his musings, he 
locked himself inside the sound booth to pre-record some dark advice for the 
city's foolish listeners.



It was the last night at the cabin.  They would have to return to Toronto in 
a few hours, leaving enough time to arrive before sunrise.  No doubt, 
LaCroix would want Tracy home early enough for her lessons.  Nick recalled 
the centuries he had spent in the hot seat, learning from their hard master. 
  Some lessons had seemed cruel at the time.  Would LaCroix teach Tracy in 
the same way?  Or had the ancient vampire mellowed?

The girls finished up cutting the quilt shapes.  Their project didn't look 
like much to him, but they seemed happy with it.  It was hard to imagine how 
the pieces would fit together, and what it would look like.  Part of him was 
dreading Christmas.  Tracy was so excited about this quilt.  What if LaCroix 
didn't like it?  She was so young.  Nick had faced many disappointments at 
the hands of his master.  Would Tracy be strong enough?

"You worry too much," Urs whispered in his ear.

Nick cocked half a smile.  "Guilty.  What are you going to do about it?"

She nibbled on his ear.  "You get to help by gathering signatures," she 
said.

"Uh-uh, no way," Nick denied.  "That's such a girl-thing.  I can't possibly 
go around asking anybody to write mush on fabric."

Vachon agreed.

"But, I'm not supposed to visit vampires alone," Tracy reminded him.  "You 
have to help!"

Nick saw her sad expression and felt responsible.  He had to do something.  
"I can take you around," he volunteered reluctantly.  "But you have to do 
the rest."

"Okay," she said.  "That will work."

"You realize, that the first time you share blood with LaCroix, he's going 
to discover your secret."

Tracy gasped.  "He can't!  He'll ruin everything!  Oh, Nick, what am I going 
to do!"

Vachon put a comforting arm around her.  "How do you keep a secret from him, 
Knight?"

"I don't," Nick said.  "I've never been able to keep something from him."

"Bummer," Vachon mumbled, suddenly grateful his master was dead.

"Just don't share blood," Urs suggested.  "Christmas isn't that far away.  
Couldn't Vachon just come over every night?  Maybe LaCroix won't bite you?"

"As long as I stay out of trouble," Tracy grumbled.

"You can do it, Baby," Nick encouraged, "just put your mind to it."

"Yeah- you too, then.  I dare you."

"Do what?" Nick gulped nervously.  Tracy had the look of trouble in her eye, 
and he knew he wasn't going to like it.

"I dare you to stay out of trouble until after Christmas.  I dare you to be 
the perfect son."

Urs laughed.  Vachon was grinning from ear to ear.  "Come on, Tracy," he 
said, teasingly.  "Give him a break.  Dare him to do something he at least 
has a chance of succeeding at."

Nick wasn't certain whom he was more annoyed with at the moment.

"Come on, Nick," Urs challenged.  If you and LaCroix share blood before 
Christmas, you'll spoil the surprise as well."

"Time to go," Nick replied.  "Now."

The girls laughed harder.  Vachon clapped him on the back.  "Too bad, Nick.  
I think you've been duped."

He shrugged, trying to look indifferent.  "It's no problem.  I know how to 
handle the old general.  Tracy's the one who's going to spoil it."

She laughed.  "We'll see!"


End, part 10



Waltz in the Sky, 11/14
By Lorelei Sieja


They all rode to Raven together, escorting Tracy back to LaCroix.  The 
ancient was in his soundbooth when they arrived.  He acknowledged their 
presence with a lift of his eyebrow without interrupting his monologue at 
all.  Tracy looked a little hurt that he didn't make her feel more welcomed. 
  Nick tugged her out of the soundbooth and quietly closed the door.

"Rule number 342," Nick said softly.  "Never interrupt him."

She nodded.  "Right.  Thanks for the lovely weekend, Nick."

"Hey, he's busy now.  It'd be a good time to get a few signatures from 
around the bar."

Tracy brightened.  "You're right!  Let's do it!"

Tracy and Urs hit on every vampire there, moving discretely through the 
crowds.  Being a Sunday night the mortal population was down.  Vachon 
watched protectively, from just outside the soundbooth door.  It was 
supposed to be his job to warn them before LaCroix emerged.  Nick introduced 
Tracy to everyone.  They treated her with respect, partly because of her 
master, and partly because of the new respect Nick had earned, since he'd 
killed Divia.  Odd, he thought, how killing the ancient had raised him in 
their estimation.  He was still the same Nick, still conflicted with his 
nature, still prone to mood swings, but now, the other vampires fairly 
worshipped him.  As he watched them signing their scraps of satin, though, 
Nick was humbled at the messages they wrote for LaCroix.  The messages were 
in a variety of languages, which frustrated Tracy to no end, but Nick could 
read them all.  Words of appreciation and gratitude.  It surprised Nick, in 
that his master had never been particularly philanthropic, and yet, somehow, 
the entire community in Toronto owed him for something.

An hour later Vachon cleared his throat and signaled Tracy.  She stuffed a 
scrap of satin into Nick's pocket and turned away from the vampire she'd 
just met.  Reaching up on her toes, she pecked Nick lightly on the cheek.  
"See you tomorrow, partner," she said.

Nick smiled.  "Good day, Baby.  Behave yourself."

She rolled her eyes at him, but her grin was genuine.  "You, too!"



LaCroix seemed distracted.  Tracy tried to tell him about their weekend in 
the cottage, at least, the parts that she'd decided were okay to share, but 
he didn't seem to be listening.  When she asked if they were going to have a 
lesson that night, he had declined.  "You are tired from your weekend," he'd 
commented without emotion.  "Get to bed early, and I will see you tomorrow." 
  Tracy tried to conceal the look of disappointment as she went to her room. 
  Had something gone wrong between him and the coroner?  She'd have to call 
Natalie tomorrow.



The following night, Nick came to the apartment to pick her up.  He still 
seemed stiff and awkward around his master, so he had not yet forgiven him, 
but at least he was trying.  And as she grabbed her coat to leave, LaCroix 
had put one hand on Nick's shoulder, the other on hers.  "Be careful," he 
cautioned them.

Nick shrugged.  The advice fell on deaf ears.  Tracy looked at her master 
with concern.  He was worried about something.  "We will, sir," she said, 
and kissed his cheek.

At the precinct, Tracy felt the silent stares from the bullpen.  "When are 
they going to give it up?" she whispered to Nick.

"When they find someone else to gossip about," he answered.  He'd always 
hated being the source of the gossip, but it wasn't so bad now that he 
shared it with Tracy.  It was sort of funny, in a way.  And it made him 
wonder about when they moved on. Would it just be easier to call her his 
sister in their next life?  But then, family members were seldom allowed to 
work together.  And he was getting used to her being his partner.  Well, 
they wouldn't have to worry about moving for a while yet.  If LaCroix didn't 
create problems, they could manage for about ten years still... maybe.

"Saw your name in the paper, Nick," some of them called.  Nick shrugged.  

His name was often in the paper as the arresting officer.  He didn't see 
what was so funny.

Captain Reese stood outside his office and motioned to them.  He looked 
solemn.  Nick listened for his heart rate.  The captain was worried about 
something, and Nick didn't think it had anything to do with the rumors.  He 
held the door for Tracy, then stepped inside and waited for Reese to speak.

"Tracy, I'm sorry about your father, and I wanted to know if you're okay," 
he said quietly.

Tracy swallowed.  Her father?  But he was alright, wasn't he? LaCroix wasn't 
going to kill him.  Had he slipped up and made a mistake?  Is that why he'd 
been so distant last night?

"What about her father," Nick asked, sensing her turmoil through their bond.

Reese glanced at him.  "Didn't you hear?  I know you were away this weekend, 
but it was all over the news."

Nick shook his head, wishing the captain would just get to the point.

"Commissioner Vetter resigned, effective immediately.  The press is 
speculating that he was involved in the sale of contraband, but they have no 
proof.  As far as I know, there is no investigation into his activities.  
But he cleaned out his office, and word has it that he's moving to 
Scottsdale, Arizona."

Tracy nodded.  He was alive, he wasn't going to be investigated, and he was 
going to retire in a yuppie neighborhood.  Was she sorry?  No, it was 
probably better than he deserved.  "Captain, I'm fine," she said 
emphatically.

"He called me, after announcing his resignation," Reese continued.  "Tracy, 
he told me to put Mr. LaCroix down as your next of kin.  None of this is 
making any sense to me."

Nick concealed a grin.  His master was certainly being thorough these days!

"Is something going on between you and Nick's dad?"

Tracy burst out laughing.  Nick's grin was no longer concealed.  Reese 
seemed irate that his concerns were being treated so lightly.

"He probably wants you to contact LaCroix in an emergency, just because he 
is so close, and can forward a message to him if needed," Nick suggested.

"I can assure you, Captain, that LaCroix has been like a father to me.  
There is nothing else between us," Tracy lied.  Yes, a vampire father, which 
meant, they had been lovers, too.  But Reese would not understand.

"Well, welcome back then," Reese said.  "And check with Schultz.  She got 
some faxes while you were gone, relating to the Jacobs case."

"Uh, Captain, there is one more thing," Nick said.  "We were planning to 
return to the cabin this weekend.  Would it be okay if we come in a little 
early, and take off early again?"

Reese stared at Nick hard, keeping his expression blank.  Nick looked 
innocent enough, which usually meant he was up to something.  Reese was 
beginning to read this complex detective better.  But it was a harmless 
request.  Still, it might be good for a little leverage.

"Under one condition," Reese said.  "You provide the entertainment for the 
Christmas Ball."

"Me?  I can't!" he exclaimed.

Reese smiled.  "Sure you can.  I heard that you did it once before, for 
Cohen.  We had a group all lined up, and their lead singer just had a 
tonsillectomy.  They cancelled all engagements until after the New Year.  
We're desperate, and I've heard that you are quite talented."

Nick groaned.

Tracy nudged his arm. "I'd love to hear you, Nick," she said.  "Do it!  Do 
it for Urs!"

Reese kept silent, watching the unspoken interaction between the two 
detectives.  The light teasing was not uncommon among coworkers, but Tracy 
and Nick seemed to have developed it to an art form.  It was good to see 
Nick a little looser these days.  After Schenke's death, Reese had been 
worried that Nick might not ever recover, at least, not without professional 
help.

"I'll do it," Nick said quietly, "But only with Tracy's help."

"Nick!  I can't sing," she objected.

Reese was shaking his head.  "Nick, the Policeman's Ball is a big thing.  
You know the top brass is going to expect a quality program."

"Vachon and Urs will join us," Nick continued, warming to his subject.  
Misery loves company, he decided.  "Vachon's a talented musician, and Urs 
has been a dancer for ages."

Tracy slugged him in the gut.  "Don't let her hear you say that," she 
quipped.  "She's not THAT old."

"Fine, fine.  It's in your hands, Nick.  Give us a good show, and I can let 
you out early on Friday."

"I can't sing," Tracy told Nick again as they got up to leave.  Reese just 
shook his head as he heard Nick's reply before the door closed behind them.  
"Sure you can.  I've heard you in the shower, remember?"

"Oh, and Nick," Reese called, jumping up to pull the door open again.  "If 
you ever get a ticket like that again, I'll have you working traffic for six 
months!"

The bullpen erupted into laughter then.

"What ticket?" Tracy asked.

Nick grinned sheepishly.  "Um, last Friday night- Vachon and I were both 
speeding, but only I got pulled over."

"I don't remember," she said.

"You were sleeping."

"So how fast were you going?"

The other officers all answered for him. "He was clocked going 170 kph!  
That ticket is not going to be pretty.  And the paper's making a big deal 
about him being a cop.  The shit's going to hit the fan big on this one, 
Knight."

Nick shrugged indifferently.  If they took away his motorcycle license, then 
they'd be taking the caddy this weekend.  Besides, in his next life, all his 
tickets from this one would be lost.



Nick was having a hard time concentrating.  He kept thinking about the past 
weekend, and was overwhelmed with the desire to make Tracy happy.  It seemed 
so important to her, and LaCroix couldn't be counted on to be appreciative.  
Maybe he should make something for Tracy?  But what?  He didn't really know 
anything about her.  He knew her feelings for Vachon and her fascination 
with vampires, but he didn't know her likes and dislikes, her hobbies, her 
life outside of being a cop.  Maybe, she just didn't have one?  Maybe, now 
that she was out from under Mr. Vetter's oppressive thumb, and she had all 
the time in the world, she would have the opportunity to develop some 
hobbies.

She was enjoying this quilt she and Urs were going to make.  Maybe that was 
a start.  He could give her a sewing basket, or a book about quilts...   
Then he had an idea.  A quilting frame... The was a special shop, where the 
products were all hand-made by Amish craftsment.  Nick admired their 
workmanship.  A quilting frame for Tracy might be perfect.  But then, what 
should he give to Urs?  Suddenly, the night seemed too long.

Tracy stared at the faxes without reading them.  Maybe she should remember 
Nick, Urs and Vachon this Christmas, too?  They had been adamant that they 
didn't celebrate the holiday, and yet they were willing to help her with the 
quilt for LaCroix.  Would it be so wrong to give them each some small, 
meaningful gift, as well?  But, the quilt was going to take a lot of time.  
She couldn't make their gifts- unless it was something quick and easy, and 
she didn't feel particularly talented.  It would take some thought.

Vachon was easy.  He didn't know any of the popular, English Christmas 
songs, and he'd just been volunteered to do the Christmas Ball.  She should 
find him a Christmas Fake book with the guitar chords in it.  And Urs was 
living with Nick, now.  She deserved a crown.  Tracy grinned at the thought. 
  Nick was a really wonderful guy, and she loved him dearly, she realized 
with a start.  But, he must be difficult to live with.

Then she remembered the photos she'd taken of them some weeks ago.  One she 
had enlarged and framed, and Nick kept it on the dresser in his bedroom.  
Maybe Urs would like to have the photos in an album of her own?  She didn't 
seem like she'd collected much over the years, and traveling with Vachon had 
meant traveling light, since he'd spent centuries fleeing from the Inca.  
Now, he was changing, and collecting stuff of his own.  Maybe, Tracy could 
take a few more pictures between now and then to add to the album?  Pictures 
around her Christmas tree?  She'd have to remember to pack the camera this 
weekend.

So what about Nick?  She was really stumped.  Maybe Natalie could help her 
think?

The phone rang, startling her from her musings.  "Vetter," she said into the 
mouthpiece.

"Is Nicholas there?" the cool voice asked.

Tracy smiled.  LaCroix sounded worried.  That was good.  "Yes," she said.

"Is he listening?"

She kicked Nick under the desk and grinned as he jumped and glowered at her. 
  "Now he is," she replied.

"Corda is missing, and Alma's child Rita is dead.  It appears that hunters 
are in Toronto."

Tracy felt a shiver up her spine.  She glanced at Nick, who stared right 
through her, a look of panic on his pale face.

"Nicholas is not to take his eyes off you for a single minute until this 
matter is solved," LaCroix spoke firmly, for her benefit as much as for 
Nick.

"Yes, sir," she said softly.

"Come to the Raven.  We must discuss this in private."  Then the connection 
was broken, as LaCroix must have hung up.

Tracy stood and pulled on her jacket, waiting for Nick to do the same.  He 
drove silently towards the Raven.  His dispute with their master was set 
aside, now that they had more urgent matters to face.  Tracy didn't fool 
herself that the cold war was over, only tabled until later.

The Raven was unusually silent.  No music blared from the stage, and no 
mortals mingled among the crowd.  Tracy wondered about that until she 
watched the bouncer hypnotize any mortal guest, and tell them that they did 
not want to come inside.

"Why doesn't he just lock up," Tracy wondered.

"We don't want to discourage any vampires from seeking refuge, and closing 
it with a crowd inside might look suspicious," Nick explained.

LaCroix hadn't come right over, but hovered among the vampires in his 
nightclub giving them comfort just with his ancient presence.  He had 
Patrick deliver a bottle and three glasses to the far table, and shortly, he 
joined his children.

Nick told him about Merlin's discovery on the Internet.  LaCroix nodded 
distractedly.  Virtual dangers were nothing compared to the very real threat 
here in his home.

"Caspian is out flying over the city.  He hasn't been able to sense his 
sister since yesterday, and fears the worst.  If these hunters can kill an 
ancient one, they are too powerful and dangerous for you.  I don't suppose I 
could convince both of you to take a long vacation and leave town?

Tracy was willing to do whatever he said, but Nick shook his head 
emphatically.

"If we change anything in our routine, it will only alert the hunters' 
suspicions," Nick said.  "I say we go back to work and do our job."

LaCroix smiled at Tracy smugly.  "I knew he would feel that way."

Tracy giggled, and Nick glared at her.  "Then why did you call us here," 
Nick demanded.

LaCroix looked out over the frightened crowd.  Janette had made him promise 
to take care of her strays when she'd sold him her nightclub.  She wanted 
him to make sure that the lost vampires always had a place to go.  He'd kept 
the club open for nearly two years now, but only since the Fever had he 
taken his duty seriously.  That fateful time had seen dozens of her strays 
die in a single night, and he had been powerless to protect them.  If he 
wasn't careful, half the vampire population of Toronto could be dead by this 
time tomorrow.

"I want you to be here for a few hours.  You are older than many.  Your 
presence will help to calm their fears," LaCroix said.  "I have a show to 
put on, and tonight's message must be carefully composed."

Nick looked at his master with surprise.  It was the first "selfless" act he 
had ever seen the ancient do, and yet he could think of no ulterior motive.  
LaCroix looked decidedly melancholy as he stared out over the club.  Nick 
shrugged.  If LaCroix was manipulating him, he would find out soon enough.  
He stood and looked through the crowd.  Vachon wasn't present, but the rest 
of his band was.  "Go call Vachon," he told Tracy, "and tell him to get over 
here."  Then he stirred the band and told them to play something cheerful.  
Nick went behind the bar and spoke to Patrick.  Within minutes they had the 
waitresses- the vampire ones- serving free drinks.  Nick took a glass for 
himself and began to work the crowd.

LaCroix smiled proudly.  His son was a magnet.  People and vampires alike 
were but iron filings, attracted to either loving him or hurting him.  
Tonight's crowd was the loving type.  They seemed to flock around him, no 
longer caring that for a century he had denied his vampire existence.  They 
knew that he had been the one to destroy the ancient Divia, and for that 
they respected him, as much as for the fact he was LaCroix's son.  Nicholas 
was reassuring them with his calm, quiet presence.  LaCroix imagined what he 
would say to these vampires, and the ones still out in the city.  Somehow, 
tonight's message had to warn them of the hunters' existence, yet not bring 
suspicion on his station and the strays who looked to the Raven for safety.

Taking a notebook from his pocket, he began to write.  "My children... all 
who look to me heed my voice tonight.  Come to me.  Let us gather together 
and share old times.  Days of yesteryear.  Come without delay for your 
father misses you.  Beware of the night.  Tonight the moon hides her face 
from us, weakens us... the shadows promise ill tidings.  Come to me, my 
children of the night, and I will watch over you."  Well, it was a pathetic 
start.  He had another thirty minutes before he would broadcast.

Urs and Vachon finally arrived.  LaCroix wondered then if his son would 
abandon his duty to flirt with his new lover.  He tried to conceal his 
irritation from him, but Nicholas glanced in his direction curiously.  
LaCroix put on the cold, expressionless mask he wore so often, which Nick 
took for anger and wondered what he'd done now.  With a shrug, he put his 
arms around Urs and kissed her.

"No one sleeps alone," he said to Vachon, "until this mess is over.  If you 
have no one to stay at the church with you, then you may either stay here or 
come to my loft at dawn."

Vachon grinned casually.  "Sure, Knight.  But I figure maybe I'll keep Tracy 
company, if your old man doesn't object."

Nick grinned.  Vachon was more afraid of LaCroix than he was, and knew the 
Spaniard would never speak so disrespectfully if he thought LaCroix was 
listening.  "He is here, you know," Nick whispered evilly, watching Vachon's 
face pale as he glanced nervously about.


end, part 11.



Waltz in the Sky 12/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Caspian returned near midnight.  He looked far different from the arrogant 
posturing elder who had intimidated both Tracy and Nick.  His eyes were 
sunken and he seemed to have aged a century over night.  Tracy felt sorry 
for him, but was afraid to get too near.  Instead she gravitated towards 
LaCroix, as was becoming more and more her habit.

He smiled at her, already sensing her question even before she spoke.  "I 
believe Corda is dead," he explained.  "She was the older sister, and they 
were closely bonded.  However, she was the shrew of the two.  It is as if 
the spiteful half of himself has died with her.  He is lost, but he will 
recover."

"How do you know him," she asked.

LaCroix glanced at Caspian, as he slunk into a booth, alone in the crowded 
club.  "We were fledglings together, and friends for a time.  Until Divia 
destroyed their master and put enmity between our families."

Tracy nodded with understanding.  Still, two millennia was a bit long to 
carry a grudge.  Now Divia was dead, as was Corda.  Would the ancients pull 
together in the common goal of eradicating the hunters from Toronto?  She 
could hope.  "May I speak with him?" she asked.

LaCroix looked surprised, but he did not deny her request.  "As you wish, my 
dear.  You may go to him when I am near."

She kissed him on the cheek before taking her drink and joining Caspian in 
his secluded booth.  LaCroix smiled, once again feeling very proud of his 
children.



Urs nudged Nick playfully.  "You are such a tease," she said.

Nick licked her throat, inflaming her eyes with desire.  "And you, my 
pretty," he growled softly in her ear, "will wait here for me.  We can 
journey to the loft together."

"Are you leaving?" she asked with surprise.

Nick nodded.  "We can't all go in to hiding.  The hunters will know we 
suspect them, and become twice as careful.  Our best chance is to catch them 
off-guard."

Urs nodded solemnly.  "Please be careful," she admonished, knowing full well 
her words fell on deaf ears.

Nick grinned at her boyishly.  "Always, my love."  Then he went to speak 
with LaCroix.

"I need to return to work for a few hours," Nick stated.  LaCroix made a 
slight gesture of ascent.  "Tracy will go with you," he said.

"But it isn't safe for her!"

"I know," LaCroix responded.  "And I know that you will avoid danger if she 
is with you.  Take her, or stay here."

Nick rolled his eyes, then went to get Baby.  LaCroix had the strangest 
ideas sometimes.  Nick thought the best way to catch these hunters was to 
lay a trap- to intentionally put a vampire in harm's way, to lure the 
hunters to attack.  But the ancient would never permit Nicholas to 
volunteer.  His job would be so much easier if LaCroix would permit him to 
just do it.

Tracy seemed quieter tonight.  She followed Nick closely, still trying to 
act like the seasoned cop, but he could sense her distress.  Damn LaCroix!  
He should have kept her with him!

They would stay at their desks for the rest of the night, he decided.  They 
were safer there, in the lights, surrounded by mortals he trusted.  Then 
maybe tomorrow he could speak to LaCroix about setting a trap.



Suddenly, Reese's door opened and the big captain rushed to Nick's desk.  
His heart rate was elevated; sweat and fear were on his face.  "Nick- 
there's a fire.  It's your father's place- the Raven.  Fire trucks and 
ambulances have been dispatched, and we've got some blues responding to the 
call now."

Nick and Tracy jumped to their feet, wearing twin expressions of fear and 
disbelief.  "No!" they exclaimed.

"Nick, from what I hear, there've been few injuries, mostly just smoke 
inhalation."

Nick grabbed Tracy by the arm and was already leaving the precinct.  Reese 
stared after them.  He didn't like LaCroix one bit.  The father was abusive, 
overpowering, and probably not completely honest.  Still, that Nick loved 
him and feared for him was evident.  He shook his head sadly.  It might be 
better for the young detective if his father died in the fire- freeing Nick 
from his influence.  Reese grunted, angry with himself for such dark 
thoughts.  "Take care of yourself," he whispered as he watched the green 
caddy pull out of the parking lot below.



They could not get close to the Raven; the roads were all blocked with fire 
trucks, ambulances, police cars, and crowds.  Nick reached out with his 
senses, and felt his father.  LaCroix was seething with rage.  Nick smiled 
at Tracy.  "He's okay," he comforted her.

She nodded weakly.  She too had felt LaCroix's wrath, and knew it was 
directed at mortals in general, hunters specifically.  Still, she wanted to 
be with him now.  This night was becoming a nightmare, and she only wanted 
it to end.

Nick flashed his badge at a police officer who was trying to keep the 
curiosity seekers out of the way.  The officer nodded and let them pass.  
There were so many mortals present.  Did any of them suspect the clients of 
the Raven were not quite human?  Since he knew his master was safe, Nick 
thought he'd do a little damage control on his way to the center of the 
crowd.  Holding Tracy's arm that they wouldn't get separated, Nick drifted 
through the crowds, listening to snatches of conversation.

"He was as cold as ice," one EMT was telling another.  "I could find no 
pulse, either.  It is so weird!"

Nick flashed his badge and pulled the curious EMT aside, quickly hypnotizing 
her.  "There is nothing weird here tonight," he told her, before turning to 
erase the other's suspicions as well.

Suddenly the crowd near the EMTs turned.  Twenty hands grabbed Nick and 
Tracy and pushed them backwards.  "What are you doing!" Nick demanded.  "I 
am a police officer!  Unhand me!"

The faces leered at him, and he was struck in the face.  Tracy started to 
scream, but rags were stuffed into her mouth and she was gagged before she 
could draw breath.  Nick was furious, but still kept the vampire concealed.  
It was possible that he could convince these hunters that they had made an 
error.  He shouted, demanded they let him pass.

He was slammed against the back of what looked like an ambulance on the 
outside, but the inside was gutted.   He lost his balance.  The throng 
grabbed him and tossed him inside.  Tracy soon followed.  Then the hunters 
opened plastic containers of holy water and doused the fallen vampires.  
Nick screamed in pain as the water burned and evaporated on his cold flesh.  
Tracy was weeping, but could make no sound around the gag.  The door was 
slammed and chained shut.  Then with the lights and siren swirling, the 
ambulance parted the crowds and left.

Nick flew against the back door and pounded on it angrily, although he was 
weakened by the water.  He tried to reach LaCroix, but could not sense him.  
Until the holy water had all burned away, he probably would not sense him, 
either.  He tore at Tracy's gag, fumbling as his hands were severely burned, 
having deflected much of the water away from his face.

Tracy's eyes were wide with fear and she was shaking.  Twin trails of blood 
tears stained her face.  There would be no fooling the hunters now.

"Tracy, as soon as I tell you, you must leave and go to LaCroix," he said 
firmly.

"I can't," she cried.  "You'll need me!"

He shook her a little too forcefully.  "No!  You Will Go to Him, or we are 
both dead!"

Reluctantly, she agreed.  Then he hugged her to him.  "We'll be fine, I 
promise," he whispered.

Tracy could hear the doubt in his voice.  She hugged him back, drawing 
strength from him.

The ambulance jerked to a stop.  Nick motioned to Tracy to be silent and he 
strained to pick up the outside conversations.

There were many heartbeats beyond.  Maybe as many as twenty- it was hard to 
tell when their pulses raced so erratically.  There were shouts and a 
commotion, and the sounds echoed as though they were in a large empty place, 
like a parking garage or unfinished basement.

He heard the chains rattle in the door and grabbed Tracy, pulling her behind 
him.

"Come out of there you devils," shouted angry voices as the door swung open. 
  Oil was tossed inside, followed by a lighted match.  Nick leaped out, 
carrying Tracy with him.  He faced his attackers, growling fiercely.

Several jabbed at him with long wooden stakes, while others murmured.  
"Jonston was right!  They are devils!  Look at his eyes!"

Nick glanced around nervously.  It was the parking garage, but it was mostly 
empty at this hour before dawn.  At least there might not be any innocents 
hurt in the melee.

A jar of holy water was thrown at him.  Nick turned his back to catch the 
spill, shielding Tracy with his body.  He howled in pain as his shirt soaked 
through and the water burned his flesh.  The burns were shallow though, and 
he had well fed earlier.  "You must get away," he whispered to her again.

More oil was dumped on the cement in a half-moon, trapping the vampires 
between the oil and the blazing truck behind them, then it was ignited.  
Pebbles and garlic were thrown at him; still he shielded Tracy behind him.

Fire was terrifying.  It was more dangerous than wooden stakes, and its 
yellow tongues lashed out at Nick, licking his flesh and singeing his 
clothes.  The hunters backed away from the flames as well.  It was the 
opening he needed.  Grabbing Tracy, he leaped over the flames, rolling along 
the pavement.

"Run!" he screamed, getting to his feet to block the hunters from pursuing 
her.

Tracy didn't want to leave.  Nick needed help, but she knew that she was no 
match for the hunters.  Nick's only chance was if she could get to LaCroix 
quickly.  Ignoring the guilt she felt, she raced for freedom, lifting off 
the pavement as she took flight.

The hunters surrounded Nick, tossing a net over him to keep him from flying 
away as well.  Several jumped in to cars to take off after Tracy, but Nick 
hoped she had put too much distance between them.  He tore at the net, 
fighting for his life as the garlic sickened him and the pebbles continued 
to annoy him.  He let his fangs descend then, to tear at the net.

The leader clubbed him with the stake.  "How many of you are here in 
Toronto!" he shouted.

"Go to hell," Nick hissed.

They clubbed him again and again, but were careful not to kill him.  He 
understood then that he would be tortured, as they expected to get 
information from him before they killed him.  He reigned in his anger.  He 
would need his strength, and prayed LaCroix would arrive in time.  Tonight 
was not a good night to die.  This would be an ignoble death.  He had not 
yet atoned for his many sins; if there was a God for vampires, please let 
him live that he might redouble his efforts to help those in need!

"Where are your hiding places!" The hunters shouted.  "Where will you vermin 
crawl now that your den is gutted?"

Nick kept silent as the blows continued to weaken him.  He was bruising now, 
and the bruises were not instantly healing.  He rolled around on the 
pavement, still tangled in the net, and tried to avoid as many of their 
blows as he could.  His arms were scraped and bleeding as he shielded his 
face.  "Please, Tracy," he whispered.  "Hurry!"



Tracy flew out of the parking garage.  LaCroix had told her never to fly 
alone, but that didn't matter.  She would do anything, even defy him and 
risk his anger, if it meant saving Nick.  Only, she didn't know where 
LaCroix would be.  Was he injured in the attack at the Raven?  Would he be 
down at the precinct giving a statement?  Or would he go to the loft to wait 
for his children there?  Nick didn't have time for her to be wrong!  She 
shut her eyes and concentrated hard, screaming one word, "Master!"

"Here I am," came the reply instantly.  It was not so many words, but a 
presence in her thoughts.  LaCroix was at the loft, as were other vampires.  
She headed there straight away, just beginning to worry how she would land.  
LaCroix threw open a window and she flew through it as he grabbed her.

"What are you doing!" he demanded angrily.

Tracy hugged him tightly, gasping for breath with which to speak.  "Nick!  
Hunters!"

LaCroix's face paled noticeably and blood appeared on his brow.  "Where!"

"The parking garage, on seventh," she panted.

LaCroix leaped from the window, and Caspian followed.  Vachon went to the 
window to close it.  He gathered Tracy in his arms and soothed her.  "He 
will save him, Trace.  Don't you worry.  That was some landing!  I like your 
style."

Tracy ignored him.  Although the light teasing was meant to relieve her 
fears, she was too worried to want to be consoled.

Urs brought her a drink.  Tracy accepted it and glanced around Nick's loft.  
There were ten vampires seeking refuge, and of them, Vachon was the oldest.  
"Shouldn't we follow them?" she asked.  "Give them aid?"

"No," Vachon replied.  "He told me to "keep these children here", and under 
no circumstances are we to leave.  I think you should listen to him."

"But," she argued.

"No." Vachon was firm.  "The two ancients can handle this better, if they 
aren't distracted.  You can help LaCroix best if you calm your fears and 
allow him to concentrate."

Tracy nodded weakly, feeling duly chastised.  She sank on to the couch and 
closed her eyes.  It was the night that would never end... suddenly eternity 
didn't seem long enough.



LaCroix reached out but could barely feel his son.  What he could sense was 
terror more than pain and that encouraged him.  Their link was weakened 
somehow, but not severed.  LaCroix focused on Nicholas's fear, telling him 
that they were coming.

Caspian flew beside him with grim determination.  It was his chance to 
avenge Corda's death.  He had volunteered to help LaCroix track down the 
hunters, laying aside their feud.  The garage loomed ahead.  They flew 
through the low-ceilinged structure, right into the throng of hunters.  They 
lifted bodies left and right, tossing them into cement supports with 
bone-cracking force.  LaCroix tore at the net and freed his son.

Nick flung himself into LaCroix's arms.  He was shaking uncontrollably, 
weakened, bruised, and bleeding, but none of his wounds were serious.  
LaCroix tried to pry him loose that he could assist Caspian with the last of 
the hunters, but Nick's grip was firm.  He sighed and welcomed his son's 
embrace.  Caspian seemed to have matters under his control, and the rage 
with which he tore at the hunters was cathartic, in a way.

"What is the matter, Nicholas," LaCroix asked softly, as his trembling 
continued.

"I was afraid," he whispered, his voice shaking.  "That you wouldn't get 
here in time."

"But you knew I would come," the ancient prodded, seeing an opportunity 
here.

Nick nodded, burying his face into LaCroix's shoulder.  He was soaked with 
the blood sweat of his fear, which further weakened him.

"Why would I come for you," LaCroix continued.  "I am a harsh master.  You 
seldom obey me.  What ever reason could I have for coming to help you when 
you defy me so often?"

Nick didn't answer.  He wanted to draw warmth and comfort from this vampire, 
not a lecture.  Couldn't they talk about it later?

"Tell me, Nicholas!  Why would I come to rescue you!"

"Because," he whispered.  He shook harder, feeling exhausted, and his undead 
heart was pulsing too fast.  He felt nauseated and faint.  "You love me," he 
finished.

"Yes," LaCroix snapped angrily.  "I do!  But you continually seem to forget 
it!"  Then he held his son to him tightly, feeling a wash of fear himself 
that he had come so close again to losing this precious one.

Caspian drained a hunter and howled victoriously.  His face was that of a 
beast, his chin red with the blood of mortals.  They would have to drain 
them all, and dispose of all the bodies quickly.  He went to the next and 
sank his fangs.

LaCroix pried Nicholas loose then.  "Feed, my son.  You must!"

Nick grabbed a fallen hunter, a young man, and felt the desire to kill 
overshadow him.  The hunter trembled fearfully, shocked at how easily the 
vampires had turned the battle.  Nick caught the scent of fear and it 
further aroused him.  He was weak and he needed to feed.  Still, he couldn't 
turn away from nearly a century of non-killing.  Draining Janette's 
attackers last year had not eased his pain but only increased his guilt.

"You will forget," he demanded, trying to hypnotize the man.

"Get thee behind me, Satan!" the man shrieked.

Nick thought of Rita, and Corda, and Tracy.  This man had hunted his family. 
  Rage overpowered him, and he sank his aching fangs into the soft flesh of 
his throat.

The man's life floated over his tongue and the hot blood gushed into his 
mouth.  The man's name was Gordon Hemmings, and he had killed many vampires. 
  He had even killed a mortal, Alvin Jacobs.  He had tried to make it look 
like a vampire's kill, to incite his followers to action.  Nick sucked 
harder, tearing at the throat violently, punishing his victim before killing 
him.

Hemmings heart slowed as his body cooled.  Nick released the body, watching 
it drop to his feet.  He sank to his knees, horrified at what he had done 
and what he had become.  Tears filled his eyes.

LaCroix and Caspian had completed the carnage.   LaCroix looked sadly at his 
son, feeling his guilt like a heavy cloak pulling him down.  He went to 
Nicholas and touched his shoulder.  "It was necessary," he said softly.

Nick looked up at him with tortured eyes.  "I know."  He stood slowly.  "And 
I'm not sorry.  He was an evil man.  I'm just surprised that I can still be 
such a beast and not feel shame.  I had thought I was closer to becoming 
mortal at least in my actions."

LaCroix hated his foolish quest, but he sensed how deeply his son was 
hurting.  "Just because you seek vengeance on one who has hurt you, has 
threatened your family, does not make you less like them," he reasoned.  
"Any mortal man has the power to kill in self-defense.  They do not even 
punish such an act, or call it murder."

Nick nodded slowly.  His master was right.  And Nick was only very tired.  
He felt strong arms around him, and let himself be lifted up.  LaCroix held 
him close and flew him towards his loft.  Caspian watched them depart, then 
began to dispose of the bodies.



LaCroix regretted now that he had brought the strays to Nick's loft, wishing 
he and his son could just be alone.  Their relationship was still tenuous at 
best.  There was nothing he could do now.  He entered through the skylight 
and gently set Nicholas on his feet.

The boy was nearly asleep, heedless of the dried blood on his chin, the 
stains on his shirt, or the many wood splintered wounds that irritated his 
hands and arms.  LaCroix pushed him towards the shower.

"Clean yourself up, then come downstairs.  Natalie will tend to your 
wounds," he ordered, knowing that a command would reach his son, even in his 
sleep.

Nicholas moved like a zombie into the bathroom.  LaCroix shook his head.  
His son was so predictable at times.  He went in with him, turning on the 
water and pulling his ruined clothing from him.  Nicholas would have to do 
the rest alone.  LaCroix left and went to comfort the children downstairs.

Tracy reached him first.  She was fearful, for Nicholas, but also of 
LaCroix.  He wondered about it briefly, then remembered that she had defied 
him by flying alone.  "Nicholas will be fine," he reassured her.  "And your 
quick flight here saved him.  I did not want you flying alone, for your own 
safety, my dear, but in saving your brother, you have made me eternally 
grateful."

Tracy smiled, hugging him impulsively.

Natalie was in the kitchen, still checking out the injured vampires.  Most 
of them had suffered only minor burns, which were healing on their own, but 
a few had been injured in the initial explosion, as bits of wood splintered 
through their flesh.  Natalie sat, her magnifying visor pulled over her 
eyes, as she plucked splinters from Patrick's hand.  The young vampire 
flinched like a baby, while flirtatiously chatting with her.

LaCroix stood behind Natalie and glowered at his audacious bartender.  
Patrick shivered, jumping again as Natalie yelled at him to hold still.

"How is he?" Nat asked.

"Nicholas will be down shortly," he answered.  "I thank you, doctor, for 
coming here tonight."

She pulled off the visor and smiled at him.  "It is my pleasure, LaCroix.  
You guys are becoming my favorite patients."

end, part 12


Waltz in the Sky, 13/14
By Lorelei Sieja


The vampire strays were yawning as the sun lightened the horizon.  They 
drifted off into corners, taking up floor space, and trying to get 
comfortable for the day.  LaCroix watched Tracy and Vachon move behind the 
grand piano.  She had a pillow and blanket, ensuring their own comfort.  
LaCroix sensed her own fear subsiding as Vachon aroused her to other 
interests.  Urs waited patiently in the kitchen with Natalie.  Nicholas 
should be down soon, he thought impatiently.

Shortly, he saw his son approach, although Nicholas was still more asleep 
than awake.  He moved towards the kitchen and Urs handed him a glass.  
LaCroix indicated the chair facing Natalie.  "Sit here, Nicholas.  Let the 
doctor tend your wounds."

Nick slid into the chair obediently, not fully seeing any of them.  LaCroix 
heaved a sigh and pulled off his pajama shirt.  Natalie gasped at the many 
ugly swelling wounds, some still bleeding, on his arms and back.  Nick sat 
still, without comment; she began the process of tugging out the splinters 
one at a time.  As each splinter left, the wound faded and closed quickly.  
Natalie knew they healed fast, but to heal this fast, she knew Nick must 
have had fresh blood quite recently.  He had killed tonight.

"Nick?" she asked gently.  She wasn't sure what she felt about it.  The 
hunters had attacked them, it was self-defense, and yet she worried how long 
Nick would suffer over this.

Nick didn't respond.  LaCroix scowled at him.  It was time to clear this up, 
while Nicholas was still weak and frightened.  He moved to hover over his 
son, and spoke low near his ear.  His voice was chilling.

"Tell the doctor what you did tonight, my son," he demanded.

"I killed a man," Nick said.

Natalie saw the slump of his shoulders and her heart ached to comfort him.  
She patted his arm affectionately.

"And what do you feel?" LaCroix prodded.

"Okay," Nick said.

"Do you feel guilt?"

Nick hesitated.  He felt guilty in that he didn't feel more guilty.  But 
LaCroix wouldn't understand that.  His master repeated the question in a 
tone that demanded an answer.

"No," he said.

"And what did you learn tonight," the ancient continued.

Nick turned to look up at him, exhaustion and confusion on his face.

"Why did I come for you tonight!" LaCroix snapped.

Nick lowered his face.  "Because you care about me," he confessed.

"Care!"

"You love me," he said.

"And?"  LaCroix was not going to let him off lightly this time.

"You love me more than yourself," Nick said.  "Master."

The confession was necessary, and he wanted Natalie to hear it as well.  For 
six years she had thought of him as some sort of monster, solely responsible 
for all of Nick's miseries.  Now from Nicholas's own lips she heard the rest 
of the story.

"And?" LaCroix continued, hoping to hear a full apology from his son for his 
disrespectful behavior recently.

Nick hesitated.  Then he grinned up at LaCroix with that innocent-angelic 
expression that had always melted his anger in the past.  "And you can take 
my bed?"

LaCroix tried to keep from smiling.  Nicholas was still defying him by 
refusing to apologize, and yet, this night, hearing the words no longer 
seemed important.  His actions were respectful, and perhaps that was all 
that mattered.  He pulled his son into his arms and embraced him.  Too 
softly for mortal ears, he spoke.  "You and Urs may take the bed.  Perhaps I 
will join you later."

Nick nodded obediently and took Urs's hand.  Natalie watched them move to 
the loft.  She felt a pang of jealousy that it was not her in his hands, 
then she stuffed it away.  LaCroix was behind her, breathing down her neck, 
sending shivers of excitement up her spine.

"Will he forever come between us?" he asked softly.

Natalie shook her head.  "No, Lucien.  It may take a little time.  Please be 
patient with me?"

"My dear," he said, pressing a kiss against her neck.  "I have all the time 
in the world."



Natalie had finished nursing the vampires, and made herself a cup of tea, 
which she drank while LaCroix consumed a different beverage.  They were 
companionably quiet, as all around them they sensed the contented slumber of 
vampires.  When she closed her eyes, Natalie could almost feel the sense of 
peace that floated among the bodies.  When she was ready, and joined LaCroix 
in the nightlife, she too would be a part of something more than herself.  
She would become a part of a whole, an individual in a large, protective 
family.  Once again she felt the jealous monster, but not for Urs.  She 
envied Nick.  He had this family and didn't even appreciate it.  Perhaps it 
was time she help him end his quest?  Could she encourage him to live 
rightly, and remain a vampire?  Would it be enough to satisfy his master and 
bring peace between them?

"I guess I should be going," Natalie said then, when she covered a yawn.

LaCroix nodded his assent.  "Will you join me at the Raven tomorrow 
evening?"

She considered his invitation for only a moment.  She had plenty of 
leave-time accrued, and everyone knew she was a close friend of Nick's.  No 
one would think twice about her taking off to help him clean up the bar.  
"Gladly," she said.  "Should I bring some cleaning supplies?"

LaCroix looked at her curiously for a moment before understanding dawned.  
"No, my dear.  We shall leave the cleaning detail for the children.  You and 
I shall be upstairs, near enough to ensure that work is accomplished, yet 
involved in activities far more interesting."

Natalie blushed.  It was such a treat to be considered "one of the adults" 
she realized.  Maturity certainly had its benefits.  LaCroix walked her to 
the lift.  Then he moved tentatively nearer.  She had never known him to be 
anything less than positive and his hesitation pleased her.  She leaned into 
him, raising her face to accept his kiss.  His arms crushed her to him, even 
as his kiss took her breath away.  He was so strong, so manly, and he not 
only loved her, but he respected her.  She returned his kiss, parting her 
lips that their tongues could dance together.

For long moments she relished the passion that swept through her.  She felt 
his fangs descend, and felt warm to her core as she caressed his teeth with 
her tongue.  LaCroix did not lose control, though.  When they ended the 
kiss, although his eyes were erotic, golden globes, his speech was 
controlled.  "Good day, my dear," he said.

Natalie smiled at him, and knew she was falling in love.  It didn't matter 
that she'd more or less "just broke up" with Nick.  It was LaCroix that made 
her melt.  "Good day, Lucien," she whispered lovingly.

LaCroix watched as she left, waited as he sensed her leaving.  The sun was 
up, or he'd have watched her car drive off.  It had been a long time since 
he'd taken a lover for his own.  There had been many vampires throughout the 
centuries- a fair pleasant toss whenever his children were too annoying to 
please him.  But he'd only loved twice before.  Once was the prostitute, 
when he'd still been mortal.  His daughter's mother, Selene.  He had loved 
her, although he'd been unable to marry her, or even to claim his child.  
The prostitute had turned bitter over the years, rejecting his love.  Then, 
he had loved again, Nick's little sister, Fleur.  He turned away from her, 
letting her forget about him, to satisfy Nicholas.  Now, again, he was 
offered the miracle of another's love.  How unfortunate that it had to be 
his son's old girlfriend.  It was a delicate situation, and one that could 
cause great harm if not handled carefully.

He wandered through the loft, checking in on Janette's waifs.  They looked 
so innocent in sleep.  Vachon's dark hair splayed across the pillow, one 
strand covered his pale cheek.  One long, slender hand- a musician's hand, 
rested on his breast.  Tracy curled up at his side, her hair the color of 
moonshine.  They were such opposites- Vachon was the irresponsible drifter, 
and she was ordered and grounded.  Yet, they looked so right together.  He 
smiled, imagining the centuries of battles and making up that they would 
share.

Turk was there, hunkered down into a ball, all alone.  Caspian needed a 
fledgling to bring his existence meaning.  LaCroix would speak to him about 
adopting the orphan.  Turk was eager to please, if a little dull-witted.  
Just what Caspian needed.

On he moved, his mind wandering as he watched the young ones sleep.  He was 
grateful that they were safe once more, and regretted that the hunters had 
not been found in time to help Rita.  She was an annoying vampire, to be 
sure, but she had been a good waitress and he would miss the almost nightly 
little problems she created.

LaCroix was feeling his age.  He was contented, but he felt removed from 
this generation.  It was time to sleep and end this useless woolgathering.  
Slowly he climbed the stairs.

Nick's one-bedroom loft was not set up for company.  LaCroix thought about 
that, as his son had tried to live alone all the while suffering in his 
loneliness.  Would that change soon?  He knew Nicholas was still jealous at 
times of Tracy.  LaCroix would have to make certain that he knew he was 
always welcome.

The room was dark and quiet.  Nick and Urs lay entwined in each other's 
arms, on one side of the bed.  LaCroix smiled as he removed his clothing.  
He lifted the sheets and slipped inside, trying not to awaken them.  
Nicholas was so exhausted.

His son rolled over in his sleep, laying an arm around LaCroix's ribs.  The 
golden hair tickled under his nose.  He stroked the smooth, new skin of 
Nicholas' back.

Nicholas stirred, still more asleep than awake and nuzzled at LaCroix's 
neck.  The ancient held still, wondering if his son knew what he was doing.  
Nicholas whispered breathily into his ear.  "Master!  Father, take me!"

LaCroix groaned as his fangs descended.  Nicholas squirmed against him, 
licking his throat, arousing him and begging him, but the boy respectfully 
waited.  It was LaCroix's right, as ancient and master, to either grant his 
wish or deny him.  In one fluid movement LaCroix rolled on top of him, 
embracing and protecting, and plunged his fangs into the throat of his 
beloved son.  Nicholas bit him then, completing the circle.  His youthful 
essence filled LaCroix, as his more ancient blood soothed and satisfied his 
child.  They gave each other more than blood, more than love.  They gave one 
another forgiveness and acceptance.  LaCroix knew then that he would have to 
allow his son the freedom to be different.  In loosening the hold he had on 
him, he would receive the love and honor he craved.

Nicholas was weakening.  LaCroix withdrew his teeth, allowing his son to 
suck a moment longer.  Then they parted.  LaCroix lay back with Nick curled 
tightly against his side, and Urs snuggled up against Nick.  They would have 
to get a bigger bed, LaCroix thought distractedly, so Natalie would be able 
to join them one day.  Then he sank into sleep.

end, part 13.



Waltz in the Sky, 14/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Evening came, and the loft was astir with sleepy, dislocated children.  They 
were irritable, as their routines had been disrupted, and they were as lost 
sheep.  LaCroix quickly hurried from the shower to bring peace among them 
before any of Nicholas's antiques were destroyed.

"Quiet!" he demanded, as he descended among them.  They scattered out of his 
way and their squabbling ceased.  LaCroix opened the refrigerator and passed 
around the mortal blood he had shipped there for Urs.

"The hunters are dead," he repeated, to remind them of their debt to him.  
"Tonight you will clean the Raven, and you may stay there if you have no 
other place to sleep."  He sensed grumbling from a few, but none dared to 
voice it.  He nodded regally.  Age had its privileges.  He went one step 
further and telephoned the precinct for Nicholas, asking to speak with 
Captain Reese.

"I understand," the captain replied.  "I'm just grateful that no one was 
seriously injured in last night's blaze.  Tell Nick we've taken the fire 
under investigation, and I'll let him know if anything comes up."

LaCroix smiled.  They would find nothing, and no one.  Caspian was too old 
to make mistakes.  "Thank you, Captain," he answered agreeably, just as Nick 
came down the stairs.

His son glared at him briefly.

LaCroix held his glare without apology.  Nick broke off and turned away.  
Then the master addressed him.  "I require your assistance tonight.  Your 
captain is very understanding."

"Fine," Nick shrugged.  He was too tired to go to work, anyway.  Today had 
passed all too quickly.

"Come here," LaCroix demanded.  He fought down a fear that his son would 
again defy him, while hoping that Nicholas had finally learned a thing or 
two.

Nick stretched and gave a toothy yawn.  LaCroix loved him like this, 
sensual, passionate, and utterly clueless.  His undead heart beat twice as 
the boy obeyed and came to him.  Nick hesitated only a moment, then embraced 
him, and laid his head against the ancient's breast.

"Are you fully recovered," LaCroix asked hoarsely.

"Uh-huh," Nick answered sleepily.

LaCroix placed a chaste kiss on his head then broke off the embrace.  "Come, 
children," he called the vampires.  "Time to get to work."



Nick stared at the gutted remains of Janette's Raven and felt a heaviness 
settle around his heart.  Everything was charred black with soot and soaking 
wet.  The fire department had given it a thorough dunking.  He turned a 
circle, not knowing where to begin and feeling overwhelmed already.

Urs took charge.  She brought out the shop-vacs and set two volunteers to 
vacuuming up the water.  Opening the back door to the alley, she directed 
the rest to begin heaving out the debris.  Two waitresses and Patrick were 
to sort out the undamaged bloodwine and wash ash and soot from the bottles.  
Nicholas and Vachon sorted the tables and chairs that were repairable, and 
began to clean them up.  The damaged windows had been replaced that 
afternoon, but she went around with a razor blade to scrape off the gluey 
labels, and then washed them down with vinegar.  The vampires listened to 
her, not because of her age or authority, but because of her quiet, 
unassuming take-charge attitude, and she seemed to know just what needed to 
be done.

LaCroix came down periodically to check on their progress, and he piped his 
radio station into the room so they could have music to clean by.  He gave 
only a brief talk tonight, in which he discussed the fire, and how the club 
would be closed indefinitely until the repairs were completed.  That started 
a call-in session, as countless mortals needed to share their experiences of 
loss from fires.  He was about ready to puke from their angst-filled 
confessions.  He brought it to an abrupt halt with a sardonic sense of humor 
as he stacked the CDs to play: Scotland's Burning, Burn Bright My Baby, You 
Light My Fire, and half a dozen more numbers of the same theme.  He smiled 
as he heard the busy vampires in the next room singing along the words of 
fire and flame while cheerfully cleaning up the ash.  They sounded very 
happy; Nicholas must have offered free drinks again.  That his son could 
afford it was no matter; he was pleased that Nicholas seemed contented among 
his own kind again.

He heard Natalie's car approach and went to greet her.  She was attractively 
dressed in a peach colored sweater and crème pants, and wore just a trace of 
peach perfume.  He inhaled, savoring her delicious mix of scents.  Nick 
jumped up to greet her, grinning from ear to ear as he extended a hand to 
shake that was covered in soot.

"You're not dressed very good for working," Nick said lightly.

LaCroix stood behind her tensely, worrying if the inevitable moment of 
confrontation had arrived already.  Natalie just laughed.  "I'm not here to 
clean, Nick," she answered, and stepped past him.

Tracy tugged on Nick's sleeve, distracting him.  "Nick?  Do you think this 
if fixable?" she asked, wobbling a chair's leg for him to see.  While he 
turned to answer her, LaCroix lead Natalie away, picking his way through the 
mess.

Nick glanced up at Nat, and noticed LaCroix's hand on the small of her back. 
  He frowned, unsure what it meant.

Tracy tugged on his sleeve again.  "Nick.  She's not jealous about Urs 
anymore.  Can you let her find her own happiness?"

"But LaCroix's not in love with her, is he?"  Nick asked softly.

"I think he is," Tracy said.  "And I don't think he's doing this just to 
piss you off.  I think he's loved her all along, and that's why he's 
tormented you so for the past few years."

Nick closed his eyes and reached out tentatively, half-afraid of what he 
would find.  LaCroix sensed his son's presence and permitted it.  Nick felt 
love and concern from him.  Love for Nicholas, concern how he would react, 
and passion for Miss Lambert, along with resignation that she would not 
become a vampire for some time.  Nick wondered about his own feelings.  
Natalie was just a friend.  A very special friend.  Someone to watch videos 
with, and to ask advice.  Someone to share confidences.  But, as he watched 
Urs wipe the chandeliers, and the soft curves of her hips sway on the wobbly 
stool, he felt intense desire for her.  It was Urs he loved.  He 
strengthened the bond with his master.  "Have a pleasant evening, LaCroix," 
he thought.  Then LaCroix gently closed their bond.  Nick smiled.



Natalie touched the piano in LaCroix's living room, trying to understand 
more about him through his home.  "Do you play?" she asked.

"No," he answered.  "I purchased that recently for Nicholas to use when he 
visits."

She nodded, and continued to observe the Spartan furnishings.  It was dark, 
like Nick's loft, but it was barren of the many treasures Nick collected.  
There were two paintings on the walls- she recognized Nick's style in them.  
The furniture was black leather but comfortable.  They must clean up well 
from bloodstains, she mused.  There were many candles set around the room, 
all lit, and soft music coming from the CD player.  There wasn't much of 
LaCroix here at all.

"I would have thought that after 2000 years you'd have collected more 
trinkets," she said.

LaCroix shrugged indifferently.  "I'm not sentimental about inanimate 
objects, my dear.  The only thing I want with me when I leave are my 
children."

Her eyes fell then on the strange stringed instrument.  "You play this, 
don't you," she said, remembering the times she'd heard it's music over 
LaCroix's radio station.  She hadn't known what it was, but guessed it was 
similar to a viola- deeper sounding than the violin, and a little 
melancholy.  "Will you play it for me?"

"Some other night, perhaps," he said vaguely.  "Would you like to dine?"

"You cook?" she blurted with surprise.

LaCroix's eyebrows shot upwards and a disdainful sneer flicked across his 
patrician features.  "Absolutely not.  I ordered take-out."

Natalie almost laughed, but caught herself.  She didn't want to insult her 
host.  The smell of hot Chinese was making her mouth water.  Nick had 
ordered her Chinese before, too.  Was the scent of ginger tolerated easier 
than Italian foods with their predominant garlic sauce?

LaCroix held her chair for her, then joined her at the small table elegantly 
set with fine china, crystal goblets, and rose-shaped candles floating in a 
glass bowl.  She held her red wine, and waited as he lifted his glass.  She 
wondered if he would make a toast, but he just stared at her for a moment, 
his expression almost hungry, then he smiled and drank.  Of course, toasting 
was too mortal a custom, she realized.

But conversation was not.  LaCroix made excellent conversation, and she 
found she was enjoying herself more than she could ever remember.  Whether 
anything came of this or not, she knew the time they shared together was 
special.





The cleaning was boring.  Nick lost interest, as he yawned a few times.  He 
drank plenty, and was feeling sleepy and contented.  His hands were black 
with charcoal, his clothing was smudged, and he tried hard not to breathe, 
as the ash was unpleasant in his lungs.

The vampire strays were still working, but they too seemed to be running out 
of steam.  Only Tracy was still bubbling along with her usual perky grin and 
childish enthusiasm.  Nick grinned and he picked up a small handful of ash.  
When she bent to pick something up, he sprinkled the ash over her.

She didn't seem to notice, so he did it again and again.  She brushed it out 
of her hair, and sneezed when it got in her mouth.  Finally, she looked up 
just as Nick dumped another handful.  "You!" she yelled.

She lunged for him.  He wasn't really caught off guard, but he was laughing 
pretty hard.  He fell back onto the charred dance floor, and she landed on 
top of him.

"You are such a brat!" she said, grabbing a handful of ash and rubbing it 
into his hair.

Nick coughed as some of the ash went into his mouth, then he rolled her over 
and pinned her down.  "I'd rather be a brat than a baby," he teased, 
stuffing ash inside her shirt.

"Nick!  Stop!  Don't!" she screamed, struggling uselessly beneath him.

Vachon joined in, intending only to pull Nick off his lover, but Urs dumped 
a clump of crud down his back.  Within seconds the entire club was 
pandemonium as the other vampires joined in the ash-fight.  Anything was 
more interesting than the boring clean-up task.



LaCroix heard the racket downstairs build, but tried to ignore it until the 
sounds were so loud that Natalie took notice.

"Do you think they're all right?" she asked.

"The Natives are restless," he commented dryly.  "Wait here.  I will settle 
this."

As he descended the stairs, vampires that had been playfully fighting began 
to sense his approach and quickly returned to work.  All of them except two. 
  His children were still rolling around in the ash, oblivious to his 
presence.  He cleared his throat.  When they still did not respond, he spoke 
firmly.  "What is the meaning of this!"

Nick and Tracy got to their feet and faced him.  It was hard to tell who 
they were, as they were covered with black soot from their once golden hair 
to the soles of their shoes.  He sensed Tracy's fear and submission at once, 
but Nick was not afraid.  He stepped forward bravely, pulling Tracy behind 
him.  LaCroix smiled inwardly at Nick's action.  Once a knight... but then, 
he was not treating Tracy like his Lady-fair, but like his kid sister.

"I'm sorry, LaCroix," Nicholas said.  "It is my fault.  I started it."

Tracy peeked around his shoulder, smiling up at LaCroix cautiously.  "Um, 
I'm sorry, too," she said.  "But I couldn't let him get away with it.  He 
dumped ash in my hair!"

Nicholas turned towards her and brushed at her hair, wiping the ash off her 
face with blackened, grubby hands.  The gesture was sweet and loving, even 
if it was rather fruitless.  LaCroix felt a hard lump in his throat, as he 
sensed his son.

Tracy was the missing part in Nick's life!  It wasn't Natalie, or Urs, or 
even LaCroix.  He had been missing his little sister!  LaCroix replaced his 
mortal father long ago, and somehow, Natalie had become more motherly 
towards him, even if he didn't quite realize it yet.  He was surrounded by 
friends- mortal and vampire- and he had a home.  But now that he had Tracy 
to love, to tease, to protect, as he had done for Fleur for most of his 
mortal years, his life was once again complete.  Why hadn't LaCroix ever 
thought of that before?

Nicholas turned back towards him then, waiting.  He must have half expected 
to be knocked down, or at least to be scolded.  LaCroix saw the familiar 
stance, yet his son's face was not angry or defiant.  His children really 
were very amusing together.  "I must be getting old," LaCroix thought to 
himself.

"You will wash up elsewhere," he admonished them, "before you set foot 
upstairs."

They nodded in unison.  Then LaCroix surprised them both by just leaving.  
Being old definitely had its advantages, he thought, as he sensed their 
confusion.  Natalie had waited for him at the top of the stairs and greeted 
him with a smile.

"Are you getting soft?" she whispered, a teasing grin on her face.

"Sh-sh.  Don't tell anyone," he answered.  He changed the CDs then to play 
the waltzes of Johann Strauss.  He made a courtly bow, then took Natalie's 
hands and stepped into a waltz.  She moved into his arms and danced.  He was 
pleasantly surprised- not many still knew how to waltz.

"Nick taught me this a few years ago," she said.  "I dragged him to my 
cousin's wedding, and he said he'd only go if I would waltz with him."

LaCroix nodded.  How like his son.  But would he always come up when LaCroix 
was with Natalie?  She moved closer, leaning her head against his breast as 
they waltzed.  LaCroix closed his eyes and he swirled through the open 
living room.  Perhaps not.  She was here with him now, while Nicholas was 
slaving away downstairs.  LaCroix felt a lightness in his step that he 
hadn't felt in a long time.

Natalie  noticed they were flying as her feet no longer made contact with 
the floor.  LaCroix held her firmly, continuing to dance the broad, sweeping 
waltz, even as he rose towards the ceiling.  Pushing aside the skylight with 
one hand, he brought her out onto the roof and beyond.

Natalie stared at him.  She saw his eyelashes resting on pale cheeks and 
softly illumined from the amber eyes behind closed lids.  Snow was falling 
silently in the still night.  She felt the wet flakes kiss her cheeks and 
arms, and wished she had a coat, but she wouldn't break the spell of the 
dance for anything.  His arms were around her protectively, and there was no 
breeze.

The music grew more faint and they danced ever higher up, until Natalie 
wondered if even LaCroix could still hear it.  The city of Toronto was very 
small now.  It looked clean and bright, the many city lights looking like 
strings of tiny Christmas lights in a porcelain village.

Suddenly LaCroix stopped.  His eyes opened and he looked almost embarrassed. 
  "You are cold," he stated sheepishly.

"Oh, please don't take me back yet," Natalie said.  "It is so beautiful up 
here!"

LaCroix closed his mouth before he spoke his surprise.  So Nicholas had 
never taken her flying before?  Perhaps, they never were as close as he had 
assumed they were.  He felt strangely pleased that he was the first to share 
this experience with her.

She shivered, and loosened a button on his shirt to lay her icy cheeks 
against his cool chest.  LaCroix felt his fangs slip at her nearness.  She 
looked up at him and smiled.

The face of the vampire had once frightened her.  Now she found it strangely 
erotic.  Lucien did not turn from her, or look embarrassed.  He was proud of 
his existence, and in control of himself.  It wasn't that she wasn't afraid 
of him hurting her, only that she knew he would never do something in a 

moment of weakness, for that would never occur.  Her lips parted and her 
face lifted to meet his, as they moved together.

His lips were no colder than hers were right now.  His tongue met hers.  Her 
breath caught and she no longer felt the cold.  Then, even though she was 
high above the ground, she released her tight hold on him and gently 
caressed his face, knowing he would protect her.

"My dear Natalie," he breathed, and the dance resumed.  In wide, sweeping 
movements, he swirled her to the phantom strains of a waltz as all life 
below continued oblivious of the joy she knew.



The End.

    Source: geocities.com/area51/hollow/1228/arc

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