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This is a sequel to "Blood and Fire".  I'd like to thank Cousin 
Laura for conceptual help, as well as a belated thank-you to 
Susan Garrett for help on the first story - in my excitement over 
finishing the story, I kind of forgot to post the credits.  *blush* 
  
        If you don't approve of bisexuality, can't stand the idea of 
polyamoury (loving more than one person at a time with all 
involved parties' consent and approval), despise non-explicit sex 
scenes, and hate the idea of an author changing the 
gravitational constants of the FK universe a little, then don't 
read this.  Otherwise, enjoy!  Comments can be sent to: 
steff@jbx.com 
  
  
                           THE TASTE OF DREAMS 
                               by Darkangel 
  
  
        "Have you seen Jeanette?"  Natalie accepted the glass from 
the bartender as she looked around the Raven for her lover. 
        He pointed toward the back.  "I wouldn't go back there if I 
were you - LaCroix's with her." 
        Natalie managed to keep back her gasp of surprise.  She had 
known all along that Jeanette's and Nick's master would appear 
eventually, but why now, when they were so happy?  The three 
of them had been growing closer ever since Nick began to 
accept himself.  Natalie was still trying to draw up a cure for 
him, but he was no longer starving to death on cow's blood and 
her failed protein shakes.  She smiled to herself, remembering 
how right Jeanette had been - Nick was wonderful to be around 
when he wasn't berating himself.  She cared about him more 
than she ever had when she was mortal.  She allowed herself 
the passion-filled memory of the night Jeanette had brought her 
across.  Nick had been there, full of sorrow until Nat had swept 
him into her arms afterwards, and proven that there were no 
longer barriers stopping them from showing love to one 
another.  Since then he rarely seemed upset over her change... 
        Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking.  
She remembered suddenly the tales that both Jeanette and Nick 
had told her of LaCroix, and was afraid for Jeanette.  She 
accepted another cup from the bartender and turned her mind 
toward work, knowing that when Jeanette needed her she 
would know through their bond.  She was still retaining 
her coroner's job, just as Nick was still a detective.  They both 
were busier than ever, but he still managed to visit the morgue a 
few times a week.  He had even bitten her on the lab table 
where he'd first been lying when they met.  Grace and Schanke 
never suspected a thing about Nat's change, but both were 
happy about their relationship and were asking when the 
wedding was to take place. 
        Nat laughed to herself and got off the barstool. She lit a 
cigarette and drifted about the club, saying hello to friends, 
trying not to think about the agony Jeanette must be in.  Ever 
since her change, she'd become quite a known figure in the 
vampire community.  A coroner in their midst was a great help, 
and she had helped many a vampire out of a sticky situation.  
As a result, most of the newly brought over vampires were in 
her debt because she signed their death certificates.  She sighed.  
As pleasant as it was to be liked, sometimes she wished she 
wasn't so damned *nice*... 
        She sensed Nick behind her just before his arms came 
around her.  She leaned back against him.  "What do you think 
they're fighting about?" 
        Nick, who had bonds with both sides of the argument, 
winced.  "Could be anything." 
        They stayed unmoving for several minutes, each lost in 
thought about the argument in progress.  Nick reached for the 
glass in Natalie's hand, and she gave it to him absentmindedly. 
        "Nick?' 
        "Hm?" 
        "Feel like giving some moral support?" 
        Nick stepped back and held out his arm to her.  "I thought 
you'd never ask." 
  
        Jeanette's office was a distaster.  The argument had 
seemingly halted for the moment, as Jeanette was sulking on 
the couch and LaCroix was staring out the window.  Natalie 
quietly went to the vampiress and put her arm around her, 
letting her sympathy and concern wash over their bond.  In 
return she got a quick, furtive hug and a weak smile.  Nick 
stood next to the closed door, bracing himself for whatever 
LaCroix would say next. 
        "Well, Nicholas, it's nice to see you've gotten your colour 
back."  LaCroix turned toward the younger vampire, smiling 
coldly. 
        Nick looked at the floor, twinges of guilt over his return to 
drinking human blood making him unable to answer. 
        "And Natalie Lambert..."  He walked towards the black 
leather couch, glass crunching under his feet.  Nat looked at him 
defiantly.  "I'm pleased to see that you've joined us.  It's so nice 
of you to help me regain control of my...children." 
        He reached out to touch Natalie's hair, and she barely kept 
herself from jerking away from him.  She felt his cold, dead 
breath in her ear, as he whispered, "Perhaps you are a worthy 
companion after all, my dear doctor.  I would so enjoy getting to 
know you better..." 
        She felt his fangs against her neck - not piercing her, but 
just pressing against her still-unbroken flesh, enough that she 
knew it as a threat.  She still did not move or speak, preferring 
to stare at a paperweight on Jeanette's desk to keep herself from 
screaming.  She heard Nick snarl, and LaCroix turned to face 
Nick.  She felt her body relax slightly, glad to have his fangs 
gone. 
        Nick's eyes were yellow, and he was growling at LaCroix.  
"Leave her alone!" 
        The older vampire chuckled, thoroughly amused at Nick's 
anger.  "Come, come, Nicholas.  I didn't hurt your ladylove, did 
I, my sweet?" 
        Natalie ignored the endearment.  "I'm fine, Nick."  She 
looked at the blonde vampire steadily, trying to calm him.  It 
seemed that LaCroix enjoyed rousing Nick's hatred - she had a 
feeling that apathy would anger the bastard more than 
defensiveness. 
        LaCroix had caught on to what she was thinking.  "So you 
think you know me, Ms. Lambert?"  He laughed derisively.  
"Come, my pet, but we have only just met."  The fangs were at 
her neck again, the snake poised but not striking.  "Though if 
you wish to take up my offer..." 
        Natalie took a chance.  She reached over to the endtable, 
pulled out one of Jeanette's cigarettes, and lit it, looking bored.  
She stared at him pointedly, and he laughed. 
        "Beautiful, beautiful performance, my pet."  He smiled.  
"You have strength.  I like that."  He kissed her mouth briefly, 
barely touching his lips to hers.  "I'll see you soon, cherie." 
        Hearing Jeanette's pet name for her come mockingly from 
this beast's lips made her want to punch him, but she continued 
to smoke slowly and stare unblinkingly at him. 
        Then he was gone, laughing as he closed the door behind 
him.  Nat collapsed, glad she had the calming cigarette in her 
hand.  "You're right, both of you - he is a bastard!" 
        Nick grinned, proud of her performance, but Jeanette 
looked stern.  "You should have whimpered or begged or 
something.  He is not interested in taming what is already 
meek, but now you've caught his interest." 
  
        Natalie stormed into Jeanette's bedroom and wished that 
she could kick something hard without breaking it.  It was her 
night off, and she and Jeanette had decided to dance.  They 
made the mistake of getting a little too friendly on the dance 
floor, and it was obvious from the stares and crude comments 
that even vampire men had fantasies about "hot bi babes".  She 
sighed, disgusted.  At least Nick didn't have that particular 
affliction--when the three of them were together, it was three 
vampires having a lot of fun together, as opposed to 'one guy 
and two women'.  She looked around for the pack of cigarettes 
she'd left in the room and gasped.  LaCroix stood, smiling, and 
bowed. 
        "Hello again, Ms. Lambert." 
        Natalie tried to regain her composure.  She saw the 
cigarettes on the dresser, and walked calmly to pick up the pack.  
LaCroix held up a lighter, the small flame was too bright in the 
darkness.  She allowed him to light the cigarette, and took a 
deep drag. 
        LaCroix smiled.  "I brought you something."  He held out a 
bouquet of black roses.  She looked at him warily, and took the 
flowers.  The thorns pierced her hand, and she dropped the 
bouquet.  LaCroix took her hand and looked at the pinpricks, 
and the blood welling out of them.  He lifted her hand to his 
mouth and delicately licked the blood from it, sucking ever so 
gently on the tiny wounds.  She felt her insides melt against her 
will, and suddenly understood the true meaning of vampiric 
charm.  She moaned, her eyes closing in arousal for a moment 
before she jerked her hand away, realizing what he was doing 
to her.  He smiled knowingly. 
        "I brought you something else - a gift much less... 
dangerous."  She examined the contents of the envelope he gave 
her - four front row seats to "Faust".  "I thought we could all 
attend, together."  The menace in his voice had receded slightly, 
and he smiled again.  "Consider it an apology for that dreadful 
scene in Jeanette's office." 
        She wasn't sure what to say.  Part of her was filled with 
terror at the thought of spending time with this beast 
voluntarily, yet she was both intensely aroused by him.  Of 
course, what would he do to her if she said no?  "Thank you."  
Her voice sounded a lot more passionate than she meant it to. 
        He nodded.  "Until then, cherie."  He kissed her suddenly, 
deeply.  Her arms twined about his neck, crushing him to her, 
before her brain even understood what what happening.  Then 
she was alone, and she wasn't sure whether the coldness in her 
was hatred or disappointment. 
  
        Natalie poured herself a glass from the bottle the bartender 
had set in their booth, and Jeanette smiled at her.  She and Nick 
had been arguing over some painting they'd seen in Italy during 
the Renaissance which no longer existed.  Natalie was glad for 
the time to pull herself back together.  Nick started talking 
about his latest case, and she nodded and tried to look 
interested. 
        "Oh, by the way - I got us tickets to see 'Faust'."  She figured 
it would be better if her lovers didn't know where she got them 
until she had to tell them. 
        "I thought those were sold out."  Nick looked puzzled. 
        "Nicholas, we are vampires.  We have our ways..."  Jeanette 
pressed herself closer to him and looked at Natalie teasingly.  
"And I'll bet our dear Natalie didn't even kill anyone to get 
them." 
        Nat smiled in agreement.  "Well, I must go check on Sidney. 
Keeping up the pretense of living in my apartment is hard, but 
I'm so afraid to bring the cat here - one of our vampire friends 
may decide he looks edible." 
  
  
        Nat decided to spend the day at her own apartment.  As far 
as she knew, LaCroix had no idea where her home was, and she 
needed time to sort out her feelings without her lovers' opinions 
in the way.  She knew Jeanette and Nick would try to save her 
from becoming as entangled with their master as they were, but 
she knew that he could never have that hold over her - he had 
not created her, and she doubted that even the bond between 
LaCroix and Jeanette could make Jeanette hurt her - love was 
too strong a tie for such betrayal.  But it couldn't hurt to distract 
LaCroix from trying, just in case she was wrong... 
        Sidney seemed happy to see her, though he had become a 
great deal more wary of her since she'd come across.  Poor baby. 
She scooped him up in her arms and hugged him as gently as 
she could.  He purred and licked her nose, and she laughed as 
she lay down to sleep. 
  
        She dreamt of him, of them together.  She knew in her sleep 
what it would feel like to be at the mercy of his touch, to be the 
willing recipient of his centuries of experience.  His blood 
would be full of the ages, and would excite her as much as her 
young, freshly-across blood would arouse his passion... 
        She awoke, sweating blood.  She examined her neck with 
trembling fingertips, the dream being so vivid that she was 
afraid it was real.  To her relief the flesh was untouched.  Was it 
her desire that made her think such things, or did he have the 
power to influence her very sleep? 
        She rose, knowing the sun was almost below the horizon.  
She dressed and microwaved breakfast, having discovered that 
blood was infinitely better warm.  She petted Sidney once more, 
and than left for work. 
  
       After Natalie's shift she went to the Raven, hungry.  
Working around so much blood was tempting, but she always 
managed to stave off her hunger until after the corpses had 
been autopsied and she was free to be with those she loved.  
Jeanette was nowhere to be seen.  Natalie knew she was 
in the back, but wanted a drink first.  She hoped the blood 
would erase the lines under her eyes from her disturbed sleep. 
        She wound up drinking straight from the bottle. Luckily, 
her lovers were nowhere in sight and the booth she was in was 
hidden in the shadows.  She drained the last of it and lit a 
cigarette just as Jeanette emerged from the back. 
        "Been here long?"  Jeanette's French accent never failed to 
arouse Natalie. 
        "No, just got here." She indicated her empty glass, having 
disposed of the bottle.  "I was hungry."  She kissed Jeanette, and 
the brunette signaled the bartender for a glass for herself.  
"Nicholas came by about one of his silly cases earlier.  He said 
he'd be late tonight."  She grinned evilly.  "Want to keep 
ourselves busy while he's gone?" 
        "Sure, love."  Natalie managed a smile. 
        "You look tired, cherie."  Jeanette looked at her intently. 
Natalie tried to hide her thoughts from her mistress, but failed. 
"LaCroix!  What has he been doing to you, darling?" 
        "Nothing.  Not a damned thing."  Embarrassed, Natalie told 
her lover of the dream she had.  She left out the happenings of 
the other night, and Jeanette, in her concern, didn't bother to 
search Natalie for any other incidences. 
        Jeanette sniffed.  "While he may be quite attractive 
physically, he is a ruthless, coldhearted bastard.  And if you 
don't watch yourself, cherie--"  She gasped as LaCroix appeared 
behind Natalie. 
        "The ruthless, coldhearted bastard may well decide that he 
likes you."  LaCroix finished Jeanette's statement.  "Too late, 
Jeanette, I already find our dear doctor most intriguing." He sat 
down in the shadowy booth next to Natalie.  "May I?"  He took 
one of Jeanette's cigarettes even though he had not received an 
answer.  "You know, Jeanette, you always did think the worst of 
me.  Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to destroy your 
pet?" He laughed as Natalie tensed, hating the way he referred 
to her.  "Maybe I just want a taste of what you and Nicholas 
get regularly." 
        Natalie tried to slap him, but he caught her hand in midair 
and pulled her to him.  He kissed her roughly, and the pleasure 
was exquisite.  She tried to back away, but he was too strong for 
her; he just held her closer, and her body pressed against his 
unyielding flesh was betraying her.  She relaxed into his arms, 
letting herself go limp, and thought very hard about the 
autopsies she'd performed earlier.  Her false apathy made him 
laugh, and he let her go.  She smoothed her hair and took a 
drink.  Jeanette sat stonily, looking at LaCroix as if he was no 
better than the street thug she'd had for dinner.  He ignored her. 
        "Actually, Ms. Lambert," he said in his always-sarcastic 
voice, "I wanted to bring you something.  A gift."  He proffered 
a bouquet similar to the one he had given her the other night.  
"Don't worry, I made sure there were no thorns on these, not 
like last time.  See you at the play tomorrow night."  He kissed 
her hand slowly, lingering with his lips on her skin, before he 
disappeared. 
        "That pig!"  Jeanette started cursing in several different 
languages before stopping in confusion.  "Cherie, what did he 
mean about 'not like last time'?  And what about 'Faust'?  Did 
you invite him?" 
        'Damn him!' Natalie thought, fuming.  He would make sure 
that Jeanette knew that she'd been lied to.  "He gave me some 
flowers the other night, and the 'Faust' tickets."  She looked 
miserably at the tabletop.  "I didn't tell you because I didn't 
want to worry you." 
        "Cherie, he is too dangerous for you to be keeping secrets 
from me.  Promise me you'll tell me next time he shows up?" 
        Natalie nodded. 
        "Well, I suppose we'll still go to the theatre tomorrow.  
After all, I already bought the dress..." 
  
        The play was wonderful, and the acting superb.  After the 
show, the four of them went for a walk in the night.  Natalie's 
heart had skipped a beat at seeing Nick and LaCroix talking 
together, both dressed in evening clothes, and at Jeanette in her 
jewels and black opera gown.  Natalie was dressed in black as 
well, but her velvet dress clung to her in a much more modern 
style than her lover's.  They were all relaxed, and LaCroix even 
joked as he and Nick walked arm in arm. 
        Jeanette kissed Natalie and whispered, "don't they look 
great together?"  Natalie nodded.  LaCroix's fearsome stance and 
white hair were a perfect contrast to Nick's boyishness and 
yellow curls.  She wondered what it would be like to have them 
together. 
        "Jeanette, did you ever--" 
        "Of course, cherie." The vampiress' smile was nostalgic.  
"And what a time we had..." 
        "Do you think--" Natalie broke off, not sure how to phrase 
the question. 
        "Yes, I do.  But LaCroix isn't always the best person to be 
around.  It's best to enjoy him when you can and hope he 
doesn't show up again anytime soon."  Jeanette frowned.  "He 
could hurt you, cherie.  Nicholas and I would do our best to 
keep him from you, but...  we are his creations." 
        "I understand." 
  
        It was the dream again.  She felt his hands on her, igniting 
her most secret places, his touch rough but not painful.  She 
moaned and arched her back to feel him against her, and felt his 
teeth at her throat.  She begged him to give her release, to drink 
from her, to let her come.  Her eyes grew yellow and hot with 
frustration, and when he drank from her it was animalistic, 
savage.  She buried her fangs into him and tasted the ancient, 
salty fluid, crushed him to her as they drained each other in a 
neverending cycle. 
  
        She woke late to bloodstained sheets and an ache at her 
neck.  She remembered her dream and smiled, then frowned at 
the black, thornless rose next to her.  She opened the note on the 
pillow, written in blood-red ink, and sobbed at the single line of 
writing. 
        "My dearest doctor," it read, "the dream is real." 
  
darkangel    steff@jbx.com    "dance the ghost with me..." --sisters 
of mercy     "i went looking for trouble - and boy, i found her." -
type o negative             "what doesn't kill me makes me 
stronger." --nietzsche