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"Blonde Desire"
A trio of Forever Knight stories
by Cagey
Feb 14, 1996


Legalese:  The characters from Forever Knight do not belong 
to me, but no copyright infringement is inteded.  The song 
"The Beast" is written by Johnette Napolitano and performed 
by Concrete Blonde on the album "Bloodletting".  The story 
belongs to me, however, so please do not repost or reprint
without permission.  WARNING:  some strong language,
violence, or adult situations.
 
I set myself a personal story challenge of writing three stories 
based on the same song, "The Beast", each with different plots, 
and--in honour of Valentine's Day--all featuring some sort of 
encounter between LaCroix and Nat.  How's that for complicated? 
:)  Here's the result. 
 
For all the Valentines.... 
 

Blonde Desire, Take 1  
 
 
the prey of the beast screamed 
bloody murder... 
 
"Stop!" her voice screamed in her head, adding to the din 
pounding her ears already from the dance floor at the Raven. 
Irritably she brushed the thought aside, but the fear still 
coursed through her, pushing her heartbeat faster than she 
would like.  It must sound like a homing beacon to this group. 
She wanted to laugh, but could not. 
 
A few heads did turn her way, but it was probably due more to 
her bedraggled appearance than the unsteady pulse.  Natalie 
Lambert had not slept in three days, and hours of constant 
watchfulness were playing havoc with her nerves.  When Sidney, 
her cat, had nearly given her a heart attack simply by jumping on the 
bed, she knew that it was time to act.  Still, she probably looked 
like she had not eaten, slept or changed clothes in too long, and 
that was why they were looking at her. 
 
Either that or they had heard.  They knew. 
 
the line is so fine between 
hoping and hurting... 
 
The treatments had been going so well for a change.  Nick had 
been making real progress, actually cutting down his blood 
intake.  The injections which she had formulated seemed to 
have increased his tolerance to sunlight and real food.  They 
had been so close.  Nick had hugged her fiercely before the last 
injection, his lips brushing softly against hers, surprising her. 
She had tried not to show how much it had affected her, but 
her hands were shaking as she administered the shot.  So close. 
 
former believers they beg for release... 
 
The tremors had wracked his body first.  He had looked at her 
wide-eyed, seeing the panic in her face as he was nearly 
doubled-over by the pain.  She'd knelt beside him, calling his 
name, trying to find something concrete to do, when he had 
finally raised his face to hers.  His eyes were red and 
dangerous, more so than she had ever seen, and he shouted at 
her fiercely, "GO!" 
 
"No!" she'd cried.  "I won't leave you here like this." 
 
But he had pushed her away with enough force to send her 
crashing against the wall.  "Leave me," he'd said again, this time 
with that voice that curled around the edge of her mind, trying 
fruitlessly to hypnotize her into it. 
 
She had picked herself up and moved toward him again, 
determined, when his eyes returned to their normal, pleading, 
sane blue for just a moment.  "Nat, I won't be able to control it 
if you don't.  leave.  Right.  Now."  The last few words were 
punctuated by quick gasps, then his eyes turned gold, 
and he snarled at her. 
 
She'd fled. 
 
as love looking down on them 
smiles and picks his teeth... 
 

LaCroix had appeared out of nowhere, naturally, and leaned 
toward her as he spoke so that she could hear him over the 
noise of the Raven.  "Dr. Lambert," he said pleasantly, "to what 
do I owe the honour of this visit?" 
 
"I'm sure that you can guess," she said flatly.  "Is there 
somewhere that we can talk in private?" 
 
trapped in between heaven and hell 
he knows all the secrets 
and don't want to tell... 
 
He simply nodded and led her to a back room, closing a door 
on the crowd.  She sank gratefully into a chair, exhaustion 
making her limbs feel sluggish.  LaCroix sat in a chair on the 
opposite side, with a desk between them, managing to look 
remarkably like a king about to hold court.  A sinister king in a 
court of death, her macabre imagination insisted. 
 
"What do you want, Dr. Lambert?" 
 
She sighed, trying to think how to begin.  "It's about Nick.  You 
have to help me."  He raised an eyebrow, but she continued 
without interruption.  "We were trying a treatment, some 
injections.  Something happened after the last one.  Something 
is wrong with Nick." 
 
LaCroix leaned back in his chair and sighed dramatically. 
"Something is always wrong with Nicholas, my dear.  I'm sure 
that you are well aware of that fact." 
 
She slammed her hand against the arm of her chair, frustration 
biting into her.  "This is different.  He made me leave, when it 
was obvious something was wrong.  I didn't know what to do, 
where to go that would be safe, so I just drove around until I 
thought he might be okay again.  I went back to the coroner's 
office."  She stopped, recalling the scene of destruction and 
chaos which had greeted her in the shambles of her office.  "He 
had gone crazy.  Everything was destroyed.  And he had taken 
all of the blood." 
 
She could have predicted his reply.  "So Nicholas has simply 
returned to his true nature.  Good." 
 
Natalie shook her head wearily.  "It's more than that.  He came 
to me at my apartment, near dawn." 
 
there's nowhere to run and there's 
nowhere to hide 
love knows you all too well 
he will find you... 
 
She had been sitting on the couch, her notes from the injection 
regimen in hand, attempting to find some reason for the 
dramatic results of that evening's treatment. 
 
"Natalie."  The word had been a whisper against the back of her 
neck, making the hairs there stand on end.  She had leapt off 
the couch and turned to find Nick, dazed and paler than usual, 
staring at her. 
 
"Nick!"  She had begun to move towards him, but paused, 
confused.  "What happened?  Are you okay?" 
 
His expression had cleared slightly, and he looked directly at 
her--his eyes were blood red.  Blue would have been nice, gold 
would have been tolerable, but this terrible fire in his gaze 
scared the hell out of her. 
 
love is the ghost haunting your head 
love is the killer you thought 
was your friend... 
 
"Natalie," he had said again, rolling her name off his tongue 
with almost a physical caress.  "I had to thank you." 
 
She'd moved back a little bit, away from the couch between 
them, and asked, voice shaking, "Thank me for what?  Are you 
okay?" 
 
"Okay?"  He'd smiled, a terrible smile.  "I'm wonderful. 
Marvelous.  Fantastique."  Then he'd giggled.  Giggled!  "I had 
to thank you.  And share this with you." 
 
She had frozen in place.  "No, Nick.  There's something wrong. 
You have to let me help you." 
 
love is the creature who lives 
in the dark 
sneaks up, will stick you 
and painfully pick you apart.. 
 
He'd vanished, and she'd looked back and forth frantically, 
trying to find him. 
 
And had found herself slammed against the wall, Nick's face 
leaning dangerously close to hers.  "I have to thank you," he'd 
repeated, his breath tickling her lips as he bent down to kiss them. 
 
love is a poet, love sings the songs 
pointing his finger you follow along... 
 
Normally the prospect of being kissed by Nick would have 
pushed all rational thought out of her head.  All she could 
think about, though, were those red, dangerous eyes. 
 
"Natalie," he'd murmured again, his voice entrancing.  "This is 
*life*."  He had leaned back a little, so that she could see him 
clearly.  "Are you afraid of me?" he asked, tracing a finger along 
the line of her jaw. 
 
She had nodded mutely. 
 
The red eyes blazed.  "Good."  Fangs flashed.  "This is death." 
 
voices are calling, 
the monster wants out of you 
paws you and claws you, you try not to fall... 
 
His fangs had slid into her neck with a gentleness which she 
did not expect, but a determination which terrified her.  She'd 
felt the coldness sweeping through her, and frantically tried to 
push him away.  Flinging out her arm, she'd met the fabric 
of the curtain.  With her remaining strength she'd wrenched it 
aside, letting in the warm fingers of light breaking the dawn sky. 
From a distance she had heard his cries, but all she could think 
about was that he was away from her, that he wasn't killing 
her. 
 
love is the leech, sucking you up 
love is a vampire, drunk on your blood 
love is the beast that will 
tear out your heart 
hungrily lick it and 
painfully pick it apart... 
 
LaCroix's cold eyes reflected nothing.  "He's out of control," she 
said, trying to convince him.  "You have to help me.  Help him." 
 
He folded his hands lightly together.  "What exactly do you 
want from me?" 
 
She took a deep breath.  "I want you to bring me across."  That 
surprised him--she saw it.  "He came back the next night, but I 
was ready."  A look of distaste passed across his face as he 
contemplated mortal "preparations" for dealing with vampires, 
but she ignored it.  "He is obsessed.  I don't know whether he 
wants to kill me or just bring me across, but he is out of control. 
He follows me everywhere--I can feel it.  But I also think that I 
can reverse the treatment--I just need *time*." 
 
"Eternity?"  A bitter smile touched his lips.  "You want me to 
give you eternity so that you can cure Nick?  Of this...little 
control problem, and then perhaps of being a vampire 
altogether?" 
 
"Would you prefer that he be killed by the Enforcers as a 
danger to the community?"  She knew that hit home.  He could 
gamble that she would never find a cure, but she knew that he 
would not count on shielding him from the Enforcers if he was 
really as far gone as she claimed.  "Believe me, this is not my 
personal preference.  But I did this to him, and I want to fix it." 
 
love is a ghost, haunting your head 
love is the killer you thought 
was your friend... 
 
They sat silently for a moment, each taking the measure of the 
other.  Finally, he spoke.  "And you are willing for me to be 
your master?  Should you return Nick to his normal self, he 
will be rather angry." 
 
She swallowed.  She had thought about this--did she want to 
spend centuries bound to this creature as Nick had been, 
knowing the way that he had treated Nick?  Did she want to 
save Nick?  "I'll deal with Nick, when the time comes," she said 
firmly. 
 
He gave a little snort at her presumptuousness, but remained 
quiet, reflecting.  Hope grew within her--he was going to agree! 
 
He was going to agree...the realization came as a shock.  Why 
was LaCroix agreeing?  Why had it been so easy to convince him? 
Could she trust him to really bring her across, and not simply kill 
her?  Was this really what she wanted--lifetime after lifetime 
with Nick and Lacroix?  What if she could not cure Nick?  Did 
she want to spend centuries without him?  She opened her 
mouth to speak-- 
 
LaCroix leaned forward, his expression darkened, dangerous. 
"Very well, Natalie Lambert.  Ask and you shall receive... 
eternity." 
 
love is the teacher who lives in the dark 
sneak up and stick you 
and painfully pick you apart. 
 
 
***************************** 
 
Blonde Desire, Take 2  
 
 
the prey of the beast 
screamed bloody murder... 
 
He would hear her beg for mercy.  In his mind played her anguished 
cries, just before he ended her pitiful mortal existence.  LaCroix 
nearly licked his lips in anticipation as he approached the 
darkened apartment.  The mere proximity to the woman fueled his 
anger.  He had not seen Nicholas' death, but he had felt it--a 
stabbing pain that tore through his soul. His wayward son was 
gone forever.  Forever. 
 
He entered the apartment on the wind.  The only light in the 
room was pale moonlight, casting what no doubt seemed to 
mortals as an eerie glow.  He had no difficulties maneuvering 
through the quiet rooms.  She was here.  He could hear her 
heartbeat.  Smell her.  Taste her. 
 
the line is so fine between 
hoping and hurting... 
 
Nicholas' quest for humanity had ended pitifully.  Before the 
end, though, he had been excited.  LaCroix had felt it 
reverberating off him like a mortal heartbeat--an enticing, 
intoxicating mix of the old Nicholas, a new Nicholas, a lost 
Nicholas. 
 
The heartbeat of the woman shifted slightly, breaking him from 
his reverie.  Somehow, she had sensed him.  She knew he was 
here.  Good.  Let her anticipate the end.  It would be worse than 
she feared. 
 
former believers they beg for release... 
 
She was sitting in a chair beside the bed.  The open window across 
from the bed admitted a halo of moonlight and cool night air.  She did 
not stir as he entered the room, nor when he moved to stand before 
her.  "Dr. Lambert," he said, in a voice calculated to send a shiver 
through the bravest man.  He knew--he had seen them turn to quivering 
wrecks before. 
 
She did not move. 
 
Her heartbeat did not stir, but remained slow and steady.  Her 
eyes, normally flashing fire in his presence, were dull and 
lifeless.  In the pale light of the night, she looked like a corpse, 
an empty shell.  For a moment he wondered if he had come too late to 
savour her end. 
 
as love looking down on them 
smiles and picks his teeth... 
 
He grasped the woman with just a tiny portion of his vampiric 
strength.  He need hardly have bothered--he pulled her 
unresisting from the chair, like a doll.  "Dr. Lambert," he said 
fiercely, looking into her eyes for signs of animation.  "Natalie!" 
 
She blinked. 
 
"LaCroix."  It was a statement, holding barely a whisper of some 
emotion which he could not identify.  Not at first.  "LaCroix," she 
said again, and this time he recognized the tone.  It was...relief. 
"He's dead, LaCroix.  I killed him." 
 
trapped in between heaven and hell 
he knows all the secrets 
and don't want to tell... 
 
His grip on her arms tightened involuntarily, pulling her closer. 
He could still smell the scent of Nicholas upon her.  "Yes," he 
almost hissed.  "You killed him." 
 
And then, to his utter amazement, she buried her head in his 
chest.  Her hair curled softly around them both, hiding her face 
and muffling her words.  He could hear them, of course, but they 
were oddly distorted. 
 
"You were right," she said in that dull, lifeless tone.  "We were both 
kidding ourselves.  Nick didn't want to be mortal.  He didn't want to 
be alive.  He didn't want to be--" her voice broke, "with me." 
 
"He wanted redemption," LaCroix heard his words echo harshly in the 
cold room. 
 
"And didn't find it."  Natalie pushed against him further, her lips 
practically forming the words against his chest.  In a whisper, she 
said, "As he was dying, he was terrified.  He thought that he was 
going to hell.  Everything he had ever done that was--" she 
choked on the next word, "--good--it didn't matter.  He didn't get 
his redemption." 
 
LaCroix pushed her back from him, his eyes gold.  He wanted her 
to see death's descent.  She simply stared back at him, saying 
quietly, "He was frightened.  He died, when he did not have to." 
She closed her eyes. 
 
there's nowhere to run and there's 
nowhere to hide... 
 
With a cry of savage pain, he bit into her.  Her blood tasted not 
of fear, but of tears, regret, weariness, misery.  Her pulse echoed 
in his head, crying in his ears to make the pain end. 
 
love knows you all too well 
he will find you... 
 
And he tasted love.  Years of passionate, longing, unfulfilled desire. 
Her blood pulsed a throbbing, hypnotic refrain of unrequited emotion 
which he recognised all too well. 
 
love is the leech, sucking you up... 
 
Her body, so still and unresisting, did not react even as he neared 
the end of her life's blood.  She had given up already.  He knew, 
though, that it was not his physical act which drained her tenuous 
hold on mortality. He felt strangely cheated--her love for Nicholas 
was killing her.  That fragile human dream had been broken by the 
terrible results of their idiotic quest, and still she could not 
comprehend the tragedy of it.  If only they had slipped the bonds of 
mortal existence, they could have lived out eternity together--as he 
and Nicholas were meant to have done. 
 
love is the vampire, drunk on your blood... 
 
Carefully he lifted her up and placed her on the bed.  With a quick 
motion he tore at the flesh of his wrist and moved it toward her 
pale lips.  He wondered if she would taste his love for Nicholas 
in the drink. 
 
love is the beast that will 
tear out your heart... 
 
When she awoke, he was leaning against the headboard, her body folded 
neatly in his arms.  He recognized the fear and hunger in her 
expression, and with a tenderness he had not thought possible beckoned 
her to him.  "Here," he said gently, "feed." 
 
Her eyes flashed fire--there was the Natalie he was accustomed to-- 
and with a ferocity he scarcely expected she buried her fangs in his 
neck.  Her bite was desperate--drinking, kissing, tearing.  He had 
expected his fledgling to be...more reluctant. 
 
hungrily lick it and 
painfully pick it apart... 
 
When they finally released one another, she drew her hand across her 
mouth to wipe away the last traces of blood.  She examined a drop 
which lingered on her fingertip clinically, licked it off, then 
said evenly, "You are such a selfish bastard." 
 
He clicked his tongue in annoyance.  "Is that your way of thanking me 
for not killing you?  A bit crude, I think.  Still, you're welcome." 
 
She glared at him.  "I should have known that with Nick gone you 
would want someone new to pick on."  She pushed a hand against his 
chest, testing her new-found strength to press him back against the 
pillows.  "I won't be your plaything." 
 
He looked at her hand, then removed it from his chest, bringing the 
fingers to his mouth to kiss them lightly.  The smell of Nicholas on 
her had almost completely faded, and he became aware of her own 
particular scent--the honey of her long hair, the slightly medicinal 
traces from the morgue, combined with the blood-sweat of their 
feeding. 
 
love is the teacher who lives in the dark... 
 
She grabbed her hand back from him, and said almost plaintively, "You 
were going to kill me.  Why didn't you just do it?"  He could see the 
remote look in her eyes, and knew she was reliving Nicholas' last 
moments. 
 
His expression hardened, and he said coldly, "As you said, I needed a 
new toy."  He gestured vaguely towards the open window.  "If you are 
so unhappy, you can always sit out there and await the sunrise." 
 
Fear crossed her face, then determination.  "Maybe I will," she said. 
And she was gone in a blur of speed, out of the window and into the 
night. 
 
He did not follow, but lay back against the pillows of the bed once 
again.  He wondered how long the desire for Nicholas would flow in 
her veins.  Perhaps tomorrow night it would be there still. 
 
This time he did lick his lips. 
 
sneak up and stick you 
and painfully pick you apart. 
 
 
***************************** 
 
Blonde Desire, Take 3 
 
 
the prey of the beast screamed 
bloody murder... 
 
The shriek of her victim told him exactly where she was.  They 
had been hunting since the first shadows of dusk made the 
battlefield safe.  Hunting together, it seemed.  She was stalking 
dinner; he was stalking her.  The end result would be the same-- 
death. 
 
The shriek was rather sloppy of her, Nick thought with a tinge of 
regret.  He had not expected to find her so easily.  Still, her 
control seemed to have degenerated; she was growing 
careless.  Moreover, she had taken to playing with her prey, 
toying with them as he had seen Sidney pounce on catnip mice. 
The analogy only brought a sad smile to his lips.  How far they 
had fallen; as much as he had once loved Natalie Lambert, now 
he was determined to kill her. 
 
the line is so fine between 
hoping and hurting 
former believers they beg for release 
as love looking down on them 
smiles and picks his teeth... 
 
He had left the city without a word to her.  Their quest was 
accomplishing little, and their relationship had degenerated 
from near-lovers to bitter, tired antagonists.  He had looked for 
Janette, but with no success.  He had traveled, wandered, 
searched.  In the end, he had returned to the city, the dawn 
forcing him to seek refuge in his barren, dusty apartment.  It was 
as he had left it, with a single exception.  On the kitchen table in 
an elegant crystal-cut vase sat a single red rose, its delicate 
petals so fragile and dried that his slightest breath had crumbled 
them. 
 
trapped in between heaven and hell 
he know all the secrets 
and don't want to tell... 
 
As soon as the shadows made travel safe he had gone to her 
apartment.  She was not there, nor at the coroner's office.  His 
apprehension had grown--how could he have left her alone and 
defenseless?  With mounting concern and anger, he had finally 
flown to the Raven.  He would get answers from LaCroix. 
The Raven had been more subdued than he remembered.  The 
strippers were gone, the crowd thinned of mortals.  It was 
almost welcoming. 
 
"The prodigal son has returned once again," a voice had 
whispered in his ear. 
 
*Almost* welcoming.  He had turned to LaCroix, saying evenly, 
"Your taste is improving.  The Raven looks almost respectable." 
LaCroix had gazed at him calmly, a strange expression barely 
concealed in his hooded eyes. 
 
"Yes," he finally said, with the trace of a smile.  "New management. 
I found someone uniquely suited to dealing with the public--she's 
had experience handling our kind." 
 
"I'm not interested in your business ventures, Lacroix," he'd 
snapped.  "Where is Natalie?" 
 
LaCroix had extended a glass of wine, saying "Lost your pet, have 
you?" 
 
Nick had pushed the glass away irritably, his voice growing 
louder, "What have you done with her, LaCroix?" 
 
With an eye to the heads turning their way, LaCroix had gestured 
to the back room.  "Perhaps we should discuss this in private?" 
 
there's nowhere to run and there's 
nowhere to hide 
love knows you all too well 
he will find you... 
 
The office too had been transformed.  It was organized yet 
elegant, a two-way mirror allowing the occupants to look out at 
the patrons of the Raven without being observed.  Nick had 
barely taken in the appearance of the room, however, before he 
turned on the older vampire with a snarl.  "Where is she?" 
 
"Calm yourself Nicholas.  I am sure that you will find your 
Natalie well.  In fact, here she is now."  He had indicated towards 
the mirror, and Nick turned. 
 
She stood in the main room of the club, looking more beautiful 
than he had remembered.  She wore an elegant black dress, the 
likes of which he had seen only on the all-too-rare occasions that 
they had gone on a "night on the town" together.  "Natalie," he'd 
breathed. 
 
On the other side of the mirror, she looked up.  Looked 
straight at him. 
 
love is the ghost haunting your head 
love is the killer you thought 
was your friend... 
 
"LaCroix," he'd begun dangerously, but then she was there. 
 
"Nick."  It was a soft statement, echoing acknowledgment, 
sadness, regret.  "I didn't expect you back so soon.  I figured 
another forty or fifty years at least." 
 
The comment bit into him; no longer was her tone bantering, 
stern yet laced with affection.  "Nat," he said simply.  "What 
happened?" 
 
"What happened?" she spat, her gentle features turning cold. 
"You left.  What else do you need to know?" 
 
"But..." he'd waved a hand, taking in her new appearance, her 
new being. 
 
"Oh, this?"  She punctuated it with a flash of vampire eyes.  "The 
new me, Nick.  You left, and I realized something.  I realized that 
we weren't ever going to be together, not like I dreamed.  And I 
realized that I could never go back to the way things were before 
I met you."  Her tone had turned so sorrowful that he moved 
towards her, to comfort her. 
 
love is the creature who lives 
in the dark 
sneaks up, will stick you 
and painfully pick you apart... 
 
But LaCroix was there first.  His hand was caressing her cheek, 
wiping away a single blood tear, and she was leaning on him for 
support.  Natalie drew a shuddering breath, then said quietly to 
Nick, "And I have to thank you for it." 
 
And then she was moving closer to LaCroix.  They were kissing, 
their lips brushing softly, tenderly. 
 
love is a poet, love sings the songs 
pointing his finger you follow along 
voices are calling, 
the monster wants out of you 
paws you and claws you, you try not to fall... 
 
"No!" he'd cried, and moved towards them in a blur.  He was 
grappling with LaCroix, venting his anger, frustration. 
 
Jealousy. 
 
Natalie was yelling at him to stop.  LaCroix was snarling at him. 
They were fighting, clawing, falling.  Falling towards the mirror 
with the velocity of two tangled, oblivious vampires.  Crashing 
through it. 
 
When Nick had picked himself off the floor, most of the patrons 
of the Raven had disappeared.  Natalie was bent over the still 
form of LaCroix, her body covering his protectively. 
 
"Nat," he'd tried to explain, moving towards them, but he'd been 
pushed back by a blur of fury which grabbed his throat with one 
pale hand. 
 
"Go, Nick," she'd said, her tone low and dangerous.  "Go, or I'll 
kill you now." 
 
And he'd seen LaCroix, laying on the floor with a dazed 
expression on his face, and a deadly spear of glass piercing his 
heart. 
 
love is the leech, sucking you up 
love is a vampire, drunk on your blood... 
 
He did not know whether LaCroix had survived or not.  He could not 
sense his master in the way that he once had.  It was as if Natalie 
had somehow usurped that bond which had always linked him to LaCroix 
despite their differences.  Though he could not feel him, Nick could 
certainly sense LaCroix's youngest child.  He did not need the bond 
between master and creation to feel her anger and the eyes which 
tracked him in the dark.  Whatever he and Natalie had once shared, 
it was subsumed under bitterness.  Could he forgive LaCroix for 
bringing her across?  Could he forgive her? 
 
Would she forgive him? 
 
It did not seem so.  She seemed to have gone crazy since his fight with 
LaCroix.  She hunted recklessly, dangerously.  He had no doubt that it  
was only a matter of time before the Enforcers took action to stop her.   
She did not seem to care.  She was bent on destruction. 
 
And revenge.  There was the corpse left in his living room.  The 
kill left in his car.  She was mad.  He was determined to stop her. 
 
love is the beast that will 
tear out your heart... 
 
The young man was still alive, barely.  Her latest conquest lay dying 
in an alley not far from the Raven, the lips which had cried out now 
still.  Nick grimly noted the man's superficial resemblance to 
himself--blonde hair, and blue, tortured eyes.  Nick knelt down 
beside him, knowing he would have to make sure that the boy would 
not become another of their kind.  Anger flared in him; for a moment 
he hoped that she and LaCroix would burn in Hell together. 
 
"Not I, Nick."  He must have spoken aloud.  She was here.  He could 
feel the pressure of her hands on his shoulders, caressing the back 
of his neck.  Those hands once so familiar, rough-hewn by grisly 
work, caressing and gentle, were now cold, elegant, and dangerous. 
 
"I found happiness of a kind, Nick.  But then, you never could stand 
to see anybody happy, could you?"  Her lips touched his neck lightly 
for a moment. 
 
An ugly shard of broken mirror caught the moonlight, reflecting it 
back into the sky. 
 
hungrily lick it and 
painfully pick it apart. 
 
 
*end*