Family A Forever Knight story by Cagey Autumn 1996 Legalese: The Forever Knight characters do not belong to me, but no infringement is intended. The story does belong to me, however, so please do not repost or reprint without permission. Family LaCroix watched the mortal silently, unobserved as always. The young man moved quietly through the house, absentmindendly performing the daily rituals which marked him as one who had lived so long alone--putting out the frozen dinner to thaw, moving to wind the grandfather clock which had been in his family for barely sixty years, turning on the evening news with the volume down to dampen the stories of death and destruction. Ah yes, LaCroix knew how much those stories troubled the young man. LaCroix saw how he lay at night on his bed, his blue eyes unable to close as he played over in his mind the fears and temptations of the day. Temptations were something that LaCroix knew a lot about. "Really LaCroix, don't you have better things to do than spy on mortals?" He had sensed her approach, but just barely. Despite the number of years which they had spent together, they were growing apart. Or perhaps it was because of the number of years they had spent together. In the first handful of decades she had been entrancing, captivating, exciting. They had reveled in one another, exploring, challenging, enticing. Now her eyes glared at him balefully, with just the slightest touch of longing. He drew her to him for a moment, grazing his teeth across her neck. As he had hoped, she arched forward, capturing his lips with hers. He did want her cooperation, after all. "Ah, LaCroix," she breathed. "Why do you waste your time here? Come home with me." He pushed her back, her entreaties inflaming anger rather than passion. "I have a task for you," he said quietly. Her eyes flashed. She jerked her head angrily towards the house. "What do you want with that one? Leave him be, LaCroix." He cupped her chin in his hand, turned her to face the window, to see the man sitting morosely in the barren living room. "But my dear, see how troubled he is. He is unhappy. He has doubts." "He's a priest," she snapped. "He has his faith. Leave him be." She pulled on his arm ineffectually, but he brushed her off with a snarl. He had been watching the young priest for some time. The young priest who was so troubled by the injustice in the world, who spent so much time on his knees praying, plagued with doubts. LaCroix had heard his prayers--give me faith, give me certainty, give me answers. "I have a task for you," he repeated. "Together we can bring him across. We'll be a family, together." "You don't want a family. You want another Nicholas," she snarled, and then took flight. He caught up with her easily, and they tumbled through the air, fighting, eyes flashing, struggling. He pulled her back to earth, his embrace holding her captive, pressing her to him. He bit into her with a savagery which he had not felt for some time; she growled deep in her throat, but stopped trying to wrest away from him. "Help me," he whispered into her ear. "We'll be a family again." "Yes," she said dully, but her eyes were tinged with desire and a small spark of hope. "We'll be together again." ******* He awoke in the darkness, dragged from restless sleep by some movement. There had been a touch, almost like a caress against his cheek. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness of his bedroom. Perhaps it had been a dream. A very vivid dream. "Yes, a dream," a soothing voice whispered at his side. "You're still dreaming." He started, moved back across the bed, gathering the blankets as a shield. "Who's there?" he demanded. Cold flesh pressed against his, a hand smoothed sweat- drenched hair from his brow. "You're dreaming," the woman's voice crooned. "I'm part of your dream." "I'm not dreaming," he said, but his tone was uncertain. Her face swam into view. Piles of dark curls framed her pale features, highlighting the soft eyes filled with anticipation. She kissed him softly, leaving a slight chill where her lips touched his. "You're dreaming," she insisted quietly. "I'm part of your dream." "Who are you?" he demanded weakly. "I'm Natalie," she whispered, her voice like a caress. "I can take away your worries, your fears." LaCroix watched placidly from the shadows. He would have a family once again. *end*
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